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followmybadreligion · 3 months

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"Je te laisserai des mot"

a valentine’s day date with your sweet, sweet boyfriend.

“Hyunjin, come here.” You called as you dusted your hands free of the white, cakey flour that’d made a thin coat over them. Your voice bounced off the tall walls of your apartment and played back in your head like a loud, jarring record that disturbed the once quiet, peaceful atmosphere, and you immediately regret not just going to get him.

In front of you sat a large bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough, which you’d spent the better half of the morning preparing– from scratch. On the side of that lay two pink, heart-shaped baking trays, one for you and one for him. You’d already coated them in butter (The only non-stick agent you had) and sprinkled a thin layer of brown sugar across them, and now all that was left for you to do was preheat the oven.

“Three seventy-five,” you whispered to yourself, spinning away from your work to assess the settings on your oven. It was brand new, much like the rest of the place, but the controls were easy enough to work with the typical dials traded for a sleek screen. You tapped it once and waited for it to illuminate before pressing the “Bake” option promoted on its right side and setting it properly.

A small smile spread across your lips as you looked at the cute, white fixture nestled among brown cabinets with tops of beige wood. Its once-dark interior lit up with an orange hue, courtesy of the heating panel built into the bottom, and you could just barely feel the heat begin to radiate from it. Just a few minutes before you’d be able to get your treats in there and baking— that was if Hyun were to hurry.

You moved over a few feet to an empty counter space, lifting yourself onto it and crossing your legs over one another as you waited. The wood was warm underneath your exposed thighs, pressing into you firmly enough to leave marks for sure. You giggled as you thought of his reaction to seeing you like this. More than likely, he’d be a little surprised at the sight— you, in his Dear Daniel tee, your panties and socks, and virtually nothing else, lightly dusted with flour and sugar— it’d be a trip for sure. But knowing him, he’d love it. He always loved seeing you in his clothes, and he loved seeing you work on your hobbies even more.

From your spot on the counter, you had the perfect view from one of the living room windows to the incoming sunrise. The sky swirled with beautiful shades of orange and pink, contrasted with the masses of gray and yellow underneath it. Skyscrapers, hoards of cars, lively apartment units— all of it did little to dull the beauty of the new day, and you took a few minutes to bask in it.

You could faintly make out the sound of beeping, rushing cars, even from how high up your flat was, but somehow that only added to the ambiance— warmth enveloping you at all sides, a show of such pretty colors, and the sound of what felt the most like home— Seoul.

But oh, this moment would be so much better with your boy.

You sighed deeply, realizing it’d been a good few minutes since you’d called his name and he still hadn’t answered. You turned towards the oven again, catching sight of the pink, square-shaped clock resting above it on the spice rack. It read 6:34, which was no surprise to you with the sunrise and all. What was a surprise, however, was that Hyunjin still wasn’t up. Normally, he’d already be at the window with his sketch pad, drawing whatever subject had come to mind (It was almost always you) while he sipped away on his coffee or tea of the morning.

You pushed yourself to the edge of the counter, allowing yourself to slide over the edge and onto your feet before you took off towards the stairs of your loft. The railing– a black, thin fixture– was crisp and loud under your touch, prompting you to let go of it as you climbed the remainder of the stairs. You wanted to wake him as softly and sweetly as possible, especially today.

A soft smile adorned your lips as you approached your bedroom, eyes locking on the adorable sight that was your boyfriend. He was sprawled out over the bed, arms clutching your pillow to his chest in his sleep. His face rested on your other one, buried under a mess of long, dark hair, but from what you could make out— his pink, swollen lips and red, flushed cheeks— he was sleeping peacefully. Several large windows fixed across the space poured in more of that golden hue, making him seem even more angelic than he was, and for a moment, you just wished you could draw as well as him.

“Honey,” you called, this time a lot softer as you approached his resting figure. He hummed softly in response, but his eyes still didn’t open.

Crawling into bed next to him, you grabbed the pillow he clung to and pulled it away to catch his attention. He whined at your antics, stirring more as he reached for something else to hold.

“You gotta wake up now.” You said through a smile of pure admiration. He looked so cute to you like this, and there was little you could do to stop your hands from coming up and fanning through his pretty locks. You started at the front, lightly combing away the strands that obscured his pretty face— a face sculpted by some Greek god whom you’d thank every day for the rest of your life. Then, you brought your hands back to gently fluff up the rest of his mane, giggling at how he whined more under your touch.

“I have a surprise for you.”

He blew out a deep breath, eyes clamping shut for a few seconds as he struggled to wake up fully. After a few more moments of silence, his eyes opened in a squint, dark brown irises magnified by light tears. He didn’t speak and opened his mouth in a wide “O” shape, letting out a soft yawn that only made your heart grow softer.

“What surprise?” he whispered, hands coming up to wipe the sleep out of his face.

“You’ll have to come with me to see.” You whispered back, beginning to raise yourself from the bed.

His touch against your thigh immediately halted your actions, the warm sensation sending a small jolt of electricity up your body. It was jarring— the feeling of his hand squeezing into you— but it was also incredibly welcomed, and you immediately allowed yourself to sink back into the plush surface beneath you.

“Wait,” his voice was soft but raspy, still stale from the lack of use overnight, “Will you lay here with me for a few more seconds, please?”

“Baby, I-” but before you could finish your sentence, he was pulling you into his bare, broad chest and laying back down with you.

“Just a few more minutes.”

You weren’t sure how long you spent nestled in Hyunjin’s arms before you realized you’d still had that oven on. While the boy rested peacefully above you, you slid out of his grasp as swiftly as possible, as you knew he’d only pull you back if he were to wake.

Then, you were back downstairs, without your boy, right at square one.

You sighed as you glanced around at the setting you’d created for the two of you: mugs of hot chocolate (That’d long gone cold) with heart-shaped marshmallows floating in it, festive cookware, pink and white candles, your Polaroid loaded with red and white film; a cute baking date for the two of you to bring in Valentine’s day, and yet you couldn’t get him down here.

Sunrise had long since passed, and now, a pale, white light poured into your kitchen, adding a lighter feel to the scene you’d set. It still looked just as pretty to you, even though you hadn’t envisioned it like this, and you were itching for Hyunjin to see it as well.

You racked your brain for what to do, contemplating going up and trying to get him a second time before your eyes ghosted over the light pink vinyl player you’d set up when you were decorating. You immediately walked over to it, looking through the few records you sat out. Most were by Lana Del Rey, a guilty pleasure of Hyunjin’s, though he never seemed too guilty. The only one that was different was one with a brown and beige cover, depicting a man and woman who you could only assume were from the Victorian age. The man was on his knees, facing away from an unknown woman who used his capped head as an armrest or a leaning post. The image of the two was encased by dark, interlinking tiles, snaking from one end of the vinyl to the other, leaving a space at the bottom where you’d penned in a simple titled: “Je te laisserai des mot.”

After lifting the needle, you slid the vinyl from its casing and delicately placed it on the player, taking a second to wipe away any dust that’d settled on it. Then, you dropped the needle to its proper position, lifted the volume slider to its maximum setting, and pressed play.

The melodic humming of a man filled your mind immediately, accompanied by the few keys of a piano. The feeling fluttering through your heart was hard to explain; it was lovely, like a mix of bliss and happiness that possessed you as you melted into the chords, but there was also a sense of pain and longing etched into it.

Your eyes clamped shut as the song forged on, his humming growing quiet as a symphony of strings and piano overtook him. When you first saw the record, you thought that perhaps you’d left it out by mistake. You’d always found it to be a particularly romantic song, and it did remind you of Hyun, but part of you felt as if it were too sad to play at a moment like this. However, now you could see why you’d chosen to leave it out.

When you listened to it, moments that you and he had shared flashed through your mind like pretty scenes from a movie: driving in the rain with your hands intertwined, slow dancing in the living room as the city lights shined on you, staring at each other until you both got shy and laughed the feeling away: all those beautiful things that the two of you had done moving by like a montage. But you didn’t want the moment you two were about to share to be a part of that; you wanted it to be the scene itself.

Just as the symphony faded and the man’s voice bled back in, you began to hear shuffling from upstairs, which snapped you from your sudden idleness.

You turned to the two mugs of cocoa and put them into the microwave to heat for a few minutes, excitement coursing through you.

The song continued to lull in the background, the man’s words echoing through your head.

Je te laisserai des mot

“I will leave you with notes,” you translated out in your head. You didn’t speak French, no, but you’d listened to the song so often that you made it a point to look up translations of the lyrics, and you now knew just about everything he sang by heart.

En-dessous de ta porte

“Underneath your door.”

En-dessous de les murs qui chantent

“Underneath the singing walls.”

You began to sing along with the lyrics lowly, admiring the way your voice seemed to blend in with the silkiness of the singers. At the same time, you could hear how Hyunjin shuffled out of bed, taking a few seconds before he walked towards the stairs. He paused at the top of the case for a few beats, almost as if to get a better listen, before hurriedly skipping down them two steps at a time.

You looked his way, smile gleaming as you took note of his disheveled state. Despite your smoothing earlier, his hair was back to being a mess, some of it making a curtain over his eyes while the rest swooped and curled about. He still wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the several love bites you’d given him the night before were very visible, making your cheeks heat a bit. The most amusing part of it all, though, was the boy’s face. Even with his tired appearance, his eyes were wide with shock and excitement, and his lips formed a small circle as he analyzed the kitchen for himself.

“You did all of this, baby?” He finally quipped after a few seconds of staring. You couldn’t suppress your giggle as you moved to stop the microwave, gently grabbing the handles of the mugs and placing them on the counter.

“Of course I did.” You replied, walking towards him. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my boy.”

A soft smile spread across his face at your words, and he began to walk towards you, meeting you in the middle and wrapping you up in his arms without a second thought. You could feel how fast his heart was beating against you, the beat so clear with your head against his chest. Even after dating for so long, being that close to you never failed to make him nervous.

“I love you.” He whispered, breaking the brief silence that’d settled between you. His hands squeezed your waist tighter at his statement, and you could feel how bated his breath was as the words left his mouth– almost like he was scared.

You paused for a second, giving yourself the time to pour over his words. He’d told you that so many times. So, so many times, yet it caught you by surprise each one.

You pulled back for a second and ran your hands down from his neck to his bare chest, allowing them to rest there as you looked up at him.

The song still hummed in the background, a soft, melodic humming drifting through the air as the two of you gazed upon each other. You fought against yourself, wanting nothing more but to press your lips against his and pour as much of your love into as him could, but you knew that you couldn’t. He knew what it felt like. He needed to hear it now.

“Hyunjin,” you started, watching as his eyes widened a bit as he became more eager to hear what you’d say, “there aren’t words strong enough to describe the way I feel about you.”

“I mean…I need you.” You continued, tilting your head slightly as you moved your hands up to play in his hair. His eyes blinked closed a few times at the sensation of your fingers against his scalp, causing you to giggle a bit, before he diverted his attention back towards you.

“I adore you.” A blissful smile crossed his face at that, eyes crinkling at the sides.

You inched your face closer to his, standing up on your tippy toes in an effort to level with him more.

“I love you, baby.” You finally whispered, voice as smooth as honey. “I love you so much.”

And with that, your lips were against his.

“What’d you write on yours?” You questioned, looking over only for him to shield his pan with his arm.

“Not yet!” He exclaimed, lowering his face closer to his work as he moved the piping bag along as slowly and carefully as he could.

“Hyunjin…” you whined, tapping his arm slightly to his panic. You’d long been done with decorating and were now standing off to the side, sipping on your second mug of hot cocoa of the morning.

You knew how particular Hyun was when it came to his art, and it was always something that you admired, but it was killing you that he was being so secretive, especially because you hadn’t expected him to take it that seriously. It was food coloring and frosting after all. Not oil canvases and watercolors. What was taking him so long?

You shifted away for a second towards the record player again, noticing how Lana’s dreamy voice had faded out and the record was starting from the beginning once again. You flicked the pause button and lifted the needle, bringing your finger down onto the vinyl and letting it scape against its surface as it came to a stop.

“Do me a favor, please.” Hyunjin pipped up.

You paused, looking back at him as you waited for him to continue.

“Play our song.” This time he looked back, piping bag in hand as he met your gaze.

You threw him a soft smile before you turned back, putting the first vinyl away and grabbing the all-too-familiar beige cover.

For the fourth time that morning, you loaded it onto the player and began to play it, humming softly as you did so. Hyunjin joined in, voice softer than yours, but still there. He always did that when you sang– joined in with you, softly enough to hear you, but loud enough to let you know he was there.

Just as the man’s voice began to fade in, Hyunjin broke away from the song, and whispered a simple, “Come here, baby.”

You did as he asked, sitting your mug down on the counter in front of you and turning to approach him. You rested your head against his shoulder, one arm draping across his shoulder as you peered down at the pink, heart-shaped pan that rested right next to yours.

In his, lay a heart-shaped cookie cake, covered from top to bottom in light brown frosting. It was perfectly smooth, not a single dip or line in its foundation, and you just knew that Hyunjin had gone over it time and time again to make sure of that. Around the edges of the cookie were white, interwebbing vines that crawled up the sides and stopped just shy of the upper edge. The most captivating part, however, was the top that was particularly bare, away from thirteen, white cursive words.

“I will always leave you notes if you will always pick them up.”

Je te laisserai des mot.

A/N: Hey y'all! This was meant to come out on Valentine's Day (I'm a day late and a dollar short, I know🥲) but I've been swamped and had to push it back. Still, I hope you guys enjoy having a late V-day with this sweet boy. Thanks for reading! -M'k <3

#happy valentine's day #skz fluff #skz hyunjin #skz scenarios #skz imagines #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #domestic fluff

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sithlordchopper · 1 year

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Can I Ask You Something?

Tech x Reader (implied female, no y/n)

Tech decides to clarify something that has been on his mind as you two are stuck alone in a broken lift

18+

Word Count: 8194

Warnings: NSFW, face fucking, phone (comm channel) sex, oral sex, dirty talk, cum swallowing, slightly dom Tech, armor kink, mentions of voyeurism

"Can I ask you something?"

Your hands stilled as you took a second to comprehend what was just said to you. Reaching down to carefully put the panel still attached by it's wires against the wall of the lift, you let out a warm huff of air, scrunching down on your knees further as your head lolled down and to the side, you could feel the warmth of your breath radiate back into your face from just how close you were to the durasteel plate lining the lift wall.

"No, Tech, I haven't finished disconnecting the wires from the lift control panel, it's too dim in here and I can't quite see what I-"

"That was not the subject of my inquiry, but I do appreciate your honesty." Tech interjected, standing to your right. He did not change positions to look down at you as he attempted to clarify what he meant. His hands were still busy at work within the right side control panel located within the lift, or so you thought. From your position crouched on his lower left you couldn't really see much of what he was doing. For all you knew, the clone was elbow deep inside the walls of a broken Imperial lift, hard at work trying to fix a broken circuit. The light on the side of his goggles was still on, yet he stopped moving before reaching up to turn the light off. The small bit of illumination provided from the light now gone as the rich red glow from the emergency shut off light above, embedded in the ceiling was all that was left.

Turning to now look at your compressed form, Tech could see you without blinding you, albeit the red light did not allow for the eye to pick up much detail, especially from that distance. The sound of Tech shuffling around was enough to cause you to look up at him, instinctually turning towards the source of the sound.

"What did you want to ask me then?" You really had no idea where he was going with this. Your head was swimming with a thousand different thoughts right now, and for the first time in a long time, Tech was not one of them. Being trapped inside an inoperational Imperial Lift in a now abandoned outpost facility was the first and only thing that had your undivided attention. Yet every passing second where you and Tech were not working in tandem to get yourselves out of this situation, the realization that you and Tech were trapped together, in the tightest and most secluded place you could possibly fathom grew, until it was at the forefront of your brain. Still, you had no idea what to expect from the technician as you glanced up at him and placed the spanner grasped in your left hand onto the cool redlit durasteel floor.

Making eye contact with you, Tech blinked and then looked back into the opened control panel he had his hands inside. You couldn't extrapolate much emotion or intention from the extremely brief glance you two threw at one another, however, you knew that whatever it was, it was distracting enough to cause Tech some discomfort. He was still wearing his helmet after all, which blocked out all facial cues, except for the ones he unconsciously made with those brown eyes of his. Even so, you had no read on the trooper, but the lift was getting warm and any second longer you spent in here you swore you would begin to go stir crazy especially if Tech didn't get on with it.

"Why do you look at me so often?" Tech stated in a very flat and critical manner, his voice catching you off guard and pulling you from the false sense of comfort provided by the previous silence. By the sound of it, Tech really had no idea. Not that you expected him to, but you were thrown off by how candid he was being. Before you could reply, Tech reached back up to turn the light on his goggles on once again and he resumed tinkering around in the opened panel.

"I need some more to go off of than just that, Tech." You countered, trying to keep your cadence and tone as close to his previous delivery as possible, not wanting to sound nervous.

"Let me rephrase my question." He kept his head straight, as you decided to take a much needed break from fiddling with the panel you removed from the wall earlier and changed positions to be sitting flat on the ground, back against the wall that was adjacent to you and Tech, on the left.

"Go on, I'm ready." You added, stretching out your legs behind Tech and removing your gloves.

"The frequency of you simply glancing in my direction as often as you do is far too low of a probability to be coincidental. I was wondering why that is. I tried to ask the opinion's of Hunter and Echo but they dismissed my concerns...seemed to find it quite amusing for some reason they did not fully explain to me. " You could hear the irritation towards his brothers in his voice, something about this was bothering Tech more than he was currently displaying physically. That compounded with the swift dismissal from Hunter and Echo, Tech was sure to be feeling disregarded about the true nature of your curious behavior, like he was the only one not in on this silly little secret.

Shit, did he know? Did he figure it out, or had Hunter been noticing you all but gawking at his brother and trying to keep your composure, and divulged Tech?

"Tech, don't put too much stock into whatever your brothers told you, you had a very valid question." You hummed out, feigning ignorance to his predicament and just flat out refusing to answer his question. Closing your eyes and crossing your arms you took in the borderline serene stillness of the broken lift before Tech could notice your own inner turmoil unfolding.

"So you do know you are doing it." Tech blurted out too quickly and curtly for your comfort as your eyes snapped back open and your hands grew clammy. Without thinking you recoiled your legs, knees moving up to your chest and jaw now clenched shut. Once you stopped moving, you realized that you couldn't hear Tech clamoring around in the wires anymore.

"D-doing what, looking at you?" You could feel your heart rate steadily increasing. "I didn't realize that I wasn't allowed to look at you or your brothers." The reply you gave was not very succinct or even a real reply at all, but the increase in adrenaline from Tech's impromptu interrogation was enough to ground your wit, preventing too large of a silence from being created and hopefully preventing Tech from prying some more. "There's some sort of clone joke in there somewhere, you know, similar appearance and...h-how you all look." You chuckled, but your accidental inflection on 'look' just gave away far too much, far too quickly and Tech's mind had already begun placing the pieces together. Tech could feel his mouth curling into a slight smirk before regaining his trademark level headed composure, however he stood still and didn't dare turn to look at you even as he formulated his reply.

"And how do they...look?" He mimicked your emphasis on 'look' so well that you didn't even catch the fact that Tech said 'they' and not 'we'.

"You look like.." you were trying to pick your next words oh so carefully, "you know...Jango Fett, tan skin, dark hair, brown eyes. You know, your nice, normal features."

Tech's hand dropped the tool he was holding within the panel he was working on as soon as 'your nice, normal features' fell off your tongue.

Shit, you said 'your nice features' and Tech heard it.

"So Hunter was telling the truth." Tech clicked the light on his goggles once again, turning the bright beam off as he turned to see you balled into yourself on the floor. Wide eyed, you looked up at Tech and suddenly back down, eyes falling level to the wall across from you, red light reflecting off of the shiny surface.

"Tech, what are you getting at?" Carefully, you stretched your legs back out in front of you trying to act as naturally and unassuming as possible as Tech stood there and observed. Moving his hand up to his mouth, he cleared his throat slightly before indulging you.

"Hunter told me that all of your glances and staring was due to the fact that you are attracted to me. I, however, did not believe him to be telling me the truth at the time." He pulled his left hand up to his helmet, fingers resting on the side of his head like he was deep in thought, right wrist resting on his hip slightly. "But that changed once you said 'you look nice' rather than 'they look nice.'"

It was far too dim in the room for you to gauge the expression of the clone standing above you. Not even sure if you did want to know, your mouth began to move before your brain had time to scrounge a comprehensive retort together. "Did you wait to ask me this until you got me alone because you're into me too?"

"Now that is an interesting extrapolation." The sound of Tech's smile was audible, causing you to swallow thickly before taking a steady breath.

"You aren't denying it." You couldn't think of any other way to get that statement out, so you just went for it. You two were already stuck in a lift so you might as well get it out in the open. At that thought, you glanced down at his codpiece, but were careful to keep your gaze moving, lest he catch you in the act of checking him out right now.

"That possibility was considered, however I did not want to corner you. Although from what I have read, that is sometimes the best way to invoke arousal with some individuals."

Did he really just say that out loud? There is no way that Tech wasn't flirting with you right now, but to be honest, you still couldn't get a good read on the clone.

"You didn't answer my question, Tech." You were trying to remain calm and keep your cool, and so far it was working. But you were still nowhere as calm as Tech seemed to be in this moment.

"I...have considered my feelings towards you and have come to the conclusion that I am attracted to you as well. Yet, I also came to the conclusion that that is irrelevant. The probability that you were attracted to my brothers was much higher than the probability of you being attracted to me; however, now that I know you do have a thing for clones, and more specifically, me, I have much more information to analyze and consider." Tech was now standing right in front of you, his arms crossed, legs apart and positioned over yours, still currently outstretched. Tech all but had you cornered in this lift, not like you could go anywhere else, it was broken, but damn was he right about being cornered creating a heightened state of arousal.

"What do you mean, a thing for clones?" You had an idea of where he was going with this, but your brain was short circuiting and you were left to think with the throbbing heat developing between your thighs instead.

Tech noticed you shift ever so slightly on the cold hard floor. He raised an eyebrow and looked down at you. Noticing a shift in his position as well, you whipped your head up to look at him, making sure to not look him up and down or stop your eyes on his body anywhere except his face.

"There are countless others on the run from the Empire and none of them are anymore wanted than we are. It is no more dangerous to travel with us than it is any other group or individual. Not to mention that statistically, you are not going to find another group of clones in the same predicament as we are currently. So why opt to travel with us?" Tech's breathing remained calm, yet you could hear the slight rasp growing in his voice as he explained his thinking to you. You opened your mouth to make a rebuttal, but nothing came out and you quickly shut it, huffing out slightly as you crossed your arms once more. He had a point but you weren't going to tell him that. He doesn't need any more ammunition against you, especially at a time like this. Tech shook his head slightly "I do not understand what is so appealing about us, sexually, I mean. We are no greater than any othe-"

"I like your armor. Brown eyes are my favorite. And you seem so stoic and hard to rouse. I want to know what makes you lose focus and let go. I want to watch you come undone." You can't help yourself as it all comes out all at once and it finally clicks once you're done telling Tech everything…well almost everything. The realization that Tech knows exactly what he's doing hits you hard and fast; a lesson you just can't seem to learn and now you are sitting in a durasteel prison of your own making knowing that Tech knows that you know exactly what he's doing, and it's getting to you far more than you or he ever thought it actually would.

"No, I did not purposely wait to get you alone to ask you if you were glancing at me intentionally." Tech finally answered your question that by now you totally forgot all about. You blinked at him before he silently chuckled to himself. "The answer to your question earlier?"

"Riiight." You nodded slowly, looking back up at Tech, trying to glean something from his eyes from behind that helmet of his. "But here we are, alone. Alone alone." You emphasized. Tech's stance remained unchanged but his blank look made you nervously reconsider your mounting proposal. You could feel the throbbing between your legs strengthen and felt your face get hot as you blushed. Good thing the light in the lift was red so it prevented any change in your cheeks from being noticed.

"What are you suggesting exactly?" Tech was quick to inquire, squinting his eyes. His curiosity was noticeable but he tried his damnedest to prevent you from also coming to the realization that he was feeling the warmth of arousal too. Tech hardly ever had to worry about others being able to tell exactly what he was thinking or feeling but the way you were looking at him made him feel as if he was a very hard puzzle that you had just solved. Noticing how much you were squirming on the floor underneath him, he hadn't even considered that standing over you like this would cause such a reaction especially between your legs, as he was also resisting displaying how turned on he really was. However, observing you wasn't enough. He needed to experiment with you a bit and wanted to see what you would do next if he stepped a fraction closer to you. He gave you no time to reply before he took a slight step towards you, his codpiece all but touching your lips, his arms were now fully crossed across his breastplate, and his eyes half lidded and glued to the very slim distance between your mouth and his codpiece. He watched as you took a tentative breath and licked your lips. I would wager that her tongue is so soft Tech thought to himself as you sat there, gritting your teeth and tensing your hands into fists by your sides, fighting every urge not to reach up and touch him.

"It seems to me that you already have it figured out." You couldn't help the slight sarcastic tone of your statement, but Tech found it amusing that you suddenly had an attitude now that he was towering over you, almost like you wanted him to do something about it to force you into admitting every salacious detail of what you wanted him to do to you; what you wanted to do to him.

"There was little doubt that I was wrong. After all, I am hardly ever wrong..."

You couldn't tell if he was being genuine or snide, but something about how he was towering over you, arm crossed, and all on display made you think the latter.

So he went into this mission knowing full well that shit would go south, thanks to that lab experiment bullshit brain of his, and decided that's how he's gonna make a move? Your thoughts were scattered, you couldn't help feeling turned on yet you were beginning to feel irritated, why did he wait so long to bring this up?

Unclenching your fists, you crossed your arms once more and glanced up at the tall clone currently standing over you in a more than suggestive manner. Your glance morphed into a glare and you exhaled forcefully, trying to think of something intelligible to say. However, Tech's expression shifted slightly derailing your train of thought. You couldn't see his mouth, but by the way his brown eyes squinted slightly, you could just tell he was smirking down at you.

"Arrogant little—" You gritted out through clenched teeth, eyes now squinting in annoyance before being cut off by the clone in front of you.

"Took you long enough to articulate yourself." Tech matter-of-factly pointed out. Despite his flat delivery you knew he was enjoying himself more than he led on.

"Very cocky but I guess that's to be expected of a clone whose brain was engineered to be bigger than his di–" You managed to snap out quickly before Tech cut you off once more, sensing where you were going before you even had time to get there.

"Oh, I think you enjoy my sense of confidence immensely by the way you are clenching your thighs and fighting the urge to do anything to me." So Tech definitely knew what he was doing to you, that asshole.

"You just said that you didn't think I returned your feelings, how does that equate to you having no doubt?" You had no idea what he was getting at or trying to prove, but it seemed like he was having too much fun playing with you for him to be sincere right now.

"Ah, I said that you returning my attraction was improbable, not impossible. I did not doubt that you had some sort of interest in me, just that it would have been worth my time to pursue," his voice remained in that typical Tech tone, drenched in rationality and only a slight amount of the condescension that kept your hands busy when you were up way too late, "evidently it is well worth my time. I just had no idea how to press this matter…" Tech couldn't help his almost giggle as he finally admitted that this was something he had considered previously, yet you noticed immediately as his voice stilled after admitting to his trepidation. You began to feel bad for giving him so much lip earlier because he really couldn't help it. He was only going off of what he most likely researched, whatever Hunter and Echo told him, and now, he could only respond and react to the information that you were providing. You took a deep breath and looked back up to Tech. He was still standing over you however his confidence in his current position and choice of action were starting to wane noticeably.

"Tech, do you trust me?" You said in a kind and steady voice, not letting your nerves get the best of you for what you were about to do.

"Of course, you have been kind to me since the day you joined us. I have no reason not to trust you fully." His reply was genuinely sweet, however you didn't let that sway you from leaning forward and placing a swift kiss on the outside of his plastoid codpiece. Pulling away from his armor, your lips created some slight suction, causing that distinct 'mwah' sound to reverberate through the small lift. Tech's face flushed and his goggles began to fog up at the slight pressure your kiss provided to his growing erection underneath his armor and the sight of you pulling your mouth away from between his legs. Tech let out a stifled grunt and stood rigid as a board, noticing your sudden shift in demeanor as well as his own. Regretfully, he wished that you retained that fiery defiance you had not long ago. Something about him watching you get aggressive over your feelings towards him was providing an ever growing stream of warmth to flow down to his center...and then some.

Looking up at the clone through your eyelashes, you licked your lips and sat back against the wall again.

"Oh, I might have miscalculated the effect your eyes have on me. The way you stare at me..." Tech trailed off as he closed his eyes and thoughtlessly palmed at his codpiece, still moist from the kiss you had just planted upon it. You watched in awe as the clone all but rutted himself against his own armor, trying desperately to soothe the excitement you instilled in him.

"Take that off and I can help you out with what's underneath." You chimed and Tech complied without hesitation. Watching as Tech unclipped his codpiece, you sat back and waited in anticipation. You wanted to watch this man come undone and you were determined to make it happen. Eyes glued to his fingers, the piece of plastoid fell to the floor of the lift with a muted clatter, but what really caught your eye was the sight of Tech's erection straining against his blacks. "Can I help you with something there, sir?" Tech let out a slight moan at the new title. You have only ever called Hunter sir out of respect, since he was technically the one in charge. However, the way it affected Tech was something neither of you expected. "You would like being called sir." You giggled as you leaned forward once again, hot breath exhaling out of your lungs and onto Tech's clothed dick.

"And you would like being cornered by a clone in a lift." Tech shot back, his voice straining as he felt the warm wetness of your breath over his now aching cock. Evidently he wasn't done trying to get you riled up either, though if he knew of the puddle you were sitting in right now... You sat thinking for a second, trying to ignore the fact that you were eye level with Tech's hard dick. Inches from your mouth, if he were to remove it from his under armor clothing you're sure that it would smack you in the face.

Oh Maker, that sounds wonderful.

You couldn't help the drool beginning to pool in your mouth at the thought of Tech this close to your face. "I would like it even more if that clone cornering me ordered me to suck his dick." A new sultry tone took over as you watched his dick throb and pulse. Damn, if you knew this was how this mission was going to go you would have pushed for it sooner.

"Is that so? And here I thought that you were one for voyeurism, as all you ever seem to do is stare at me..." Tech leaned down mid sentence and you hissed as his dick was removed from right in front of your flushed face, instead his face replacing it as he began to whisper, "and touch yourself while whimpering my name when you think everyone else is asleep."

You gasped at Tech and swung your arms up to swat at any part of him you could hit. You were able to knock that stupid bucket and visor from around his head, but he had anticipated your reaction and subsequent movements and managed to snatch both of your arms with his right hand and pin them up above your head and against the cold durasteel. You hissed once more at the sudden shift of temperature but that was soon forgotten as Tech grabbed his helmet from the ground where it fell next to your knee and abruptly smashed his lips against your own, eyes fluttering shut. He pulled away just as soon as he initiated the kiss and his eyes gleamed. "Interesting. I will need to research the effects of kissing and endorphins once we get back to the Marauder. You stopped resisting me immediately." There he was, back to his normal Tech self, albeit briefly, as he returned his gaze to you and your pinned arms, goggles fogging once again as he replaced his helmet upon his head and took a breath.

"How do you know that I-that I..."

"That you touch yourself to the thought of me? You are not as quiet as you think you are, darling. You really think I would not notice your high pitched whines and pleading. Sound carries exceptionally well along the metallic walls of the Marauder, not to mention the lewd sound of your fingers squelching in and out of yourself as you whine for me." Tech kept his voice steady, but there was a hint of arousal in there as you noticed the fog on his goggles growing once again. Too bad you couldn't see the way Tech's face was flustered, red light be damned. "It is also worth mentioning that Hunter can smell it. He can smell what I do to you as soon as he enters the room. Of course he would relay this information to me once I finally asked him about you and your wandering eyes. He does not like how…distracting it can be." Tech mused, so proud with himself over the way he got you so worked up without even trying to but he felt an uncharacteristic pang of jealousy over what Hunter told him several rotations ago.

You couldn't help but feel at a disadvantage here. Tech really did have the upper hand which was not something you expected for the type of conversation you two were having. "And what about what I do to you? Or does having your arms elbow deep in an electrical panel just really get you going, Mr. Technician, sir?" You nodded your head towards his very evident erection. The inclusion of his new pet name caused a groan to escape from his throat involuntary. You got him there and eagerly awaited his reaction.

With a sudden snap of his hips, Tech stood up straight, towering over you once more as he continued to restrain your arms overhead. "Since you have presumably been 'run through' by several other clones in the past, you know what to do." Tech was regaining that cockiness that he had at the beginning of this conversation, and finally to your anticipation, removed his throbbing cock from underneath his blacks. You let out a small sigh that sounded more akin to a moan and Tech glanced down at you. Carefully pulling his helmet up, he rested it over his head in a similar manner to how you’ve seen Wrecker wear his through downtime during missions and you watched patiently trying to piece together what he was going to do next. Before you had a chance to open your mouth and ask for more direction or question what he was doing, Tech grabbed the base of his hard cock holding it straight out from himself and spit, coating his cock, making it nice and slick. At that display of himself and his accuracy you opened your mouth and whined, tongue darting between your lips. Not only did Tech just insinuate that you had been passed around between plenty of his non-batch brothers, but he made it sound like you liked being used as a clone plaything. The mental image of that alone was enough to send you down a spiral of arousal and it was maddening that you couldn’t even touch yourself about it. You tensed your restricted wrists at the impulse to relieve some of that tension, only Tech did not let go of your arms.

“Tech!” You whined, trying your hardest to sound as desperate and needy as you possibly could, hoping to receive some pity from Tech as you watched how his dick throbbed in his hand. It worked, and Tech began pumping himself to the sight of you throwing a tantrum at being denied sexual gratification, hoping to give you something to look at.

He stopped stroking himself to put his helmet back on over his head fully and you huffed out in protest, not enjoying that your personal show was cut short for a seemingly stupid reason.

“I like your armor~!” Tech mocked you as he grabbed his dick once more, picking up on your displeasure towards something so trivial as him stopping to put his helmet back on. Tech wouldn't consider himself one for mocking others, but the way it was working on you was duly noted as he would surely remember this for later. You grunted in response to Tech and rolled your eyes, face burning much hotter than before.

Analyzing his current situation, Tech decided to do something risky, but he knew the pay off would be wonderful. Angling his hips closer towards your mouth, he glanced from your lips to your eyes back down to your lips, noticing just how much he was currently holding your undivided attention. Time to put everything his brothers implied about the true nature of your behavior to the test. “Now use that pretty mouth of yours. That is an order, do not make me repeat myself.” Tech waved his spit coated cock in your face and you leaned forward, letting him gently smack it against your cheek. It was so damn hard and so damn hot, you could feel your face being smeared with his spit and it only made you squirm against the floor even more. You looked up at him, desire and lust painted across your face, and could see that his eyes were back to their original half lidded position as you opened your mouth and made eye contact with him, sticking your tongue out and licking the head of his dick. Tech let out a moan followed by some curses in what sounded like Mando’a. You pulled away from him and grinned, noticing how Tech’s eyes were now completely shut.

He's moaning this much and I've barely touched him, no wonder he waited until we were totally alone.

Now it started to make a bit more sense as to why Tech would have waited this long to ask you what was up, he wanted to be sure he would be able to get away with this without the possibility of Hunter, or anyone for that matter, hearing him. That only increased your desire to make him lose control. Thinking about the fastest way to get this man to unravel, you started to pull your wrists from Tech’s loosening grasp once more. This time he hummed and obliged, letting your arms down and you immediately grabbed the base of his cock with both hands, causing the clone to choke out a grunt. Not giving him time to prepare himself, you positioned his cock at the opening of your mouth and then pawed at his hips, causing Tech to buck forward and push his dick down your throat. You moaned at his sudden reaction to you grabbing at his waist and felt as his dick throbbed from within your mouth.

Hearing you, Tech pulled his hips back as quickly he thrusted them forward. He wasn't sure if what he just did was okay or if it's what you even wanted, but your expression was slightly reassuring. You sat there, eyes glazed over and glued in-between Tech's legs, hands gripping the sides of his armor, drool dripping down your mouth and off your chin as it began to pool between your legs. Eyes nearly shut and face on fire you slowly looked up at Tech's concerned gaze, taking in every inch of the armor clad clone. You wanted nothing more than to reach up and drag your hands down his chest, whispering all the dirty things swirling in your mind to him.

"Was that alright, I did not mean to…" Tech wasn't even able to finish his sentence as your current demeanor was far too distracting for his brain to function for once in his life. "Oh, my, you look so…mhmm." Once he began to speak, your focus was pulled away from his dick and back up to his face, however that was short lived as your eyes travelled back down his neck, torso, and once again, on to Tech's cock. Noticing how you looked him up and down, Tech's dick twitched, which only caused you to open your mouth and lick your lips in anticipation.

"Tech, that was more than alright. Do it again. I…you—mmhmm, tastes so good." You slurred out, barely able to think straight. You didn't have to tell Tech twice and just as quickly as he thrusted into your mouth the first time he did it again with slightly more force.

The quick and sudden addition of his cock to your throat was not something you anticipated so soon and it caused you to gag slightly. The wet sound of you choking on his dick filling the lift and you could feel Tech's dick, still down your throat, throb at the sound you emitted involuntarily. "Mmm you take clone cock down your throat exceptionally well. You have done this before." Tech's voice sounded unlike it ever had before, it was lower and raspier and by the way he fucked into your mouth it was evident that he was waiting for this moment for a long time.

In order to allow you to attempt a reply, Tech steadied himself as he pulled his dick from your mouth, moaning out, as you lifted your tongue slightly, licking the underside of his dick. You rounded your lips and applied some suction before Tech fully removed himself from your mouth, creating a slight 'pop.' Eyes glazed over, you looked back up at Tech, as he slowly started stroking himself to the sight of you, saliva dripping from your mouth and chin. "A-and what if I have done this before?" You spoke as clearly as anyone could after having a dick forcefully inserted into their mouth twice in quick succession. Truth be told it was hard for you to think and it seemed to get only increasingly hard for you to formulate more than disjointed thoughts and sentences.

Tech, dick in hand, reached up to remove his helmet and tossed it to the ground carelessly. Looking you over once more he opened his mouth to reply. “I would not say that your behavior would surprise me. I have seen the way my brothers look at you, I know what they are thinking as I think it too.” Tech's jaw tensed as he huffed out a response, voice even lower, nearly whispering even though the two of you were alone in that lift shaft, almost like he was ashamed of the way he thought about you. However you knew better than that. Tech might not be the most charming or tactful out of his brothers but he was headstrong and confident to a level most would ascribe to arrogance; being ashamed of his thoughts was not something Tech was known for.

All things considered, not to mention the way he was standing over you, cornering you within this little isolated lift, Tech's behavior had to be calculated. Nearly everything the man did was thought out well in advance and the few occasions where he improvised, well that was also planned.

You glanced up at Tech quickly, hoping he didn't notice the quick side-eye you gave him as a smirk crept up upon your face as you listened to him, gloved hand moving up and down along his dick. “You must be so distracted by that. Thinking about me being underneath someone else…one of your brothers perhaps.” You sat forward, closer to Tech’s hand, held steady and firmly around himself. Tech, looking down at you, raised an eyebrow. He was absolutely certain he knew where you were going with that little comment about being underneath one of his brothers, but he wasn't sure what you were going to do next until he decided for you, taking a step forward forcing you to back up immediately, head making contact with the cool durasteel behind you with a light ‘thwack.’

“I must admit, that thought has crossed my mind, but not for the reason you might be inclined to believe.” Tech’s demeanor was unintelligible, not like you could ever actually tell what was going on behind those damn goggles of his, but something about this was different than before, it almost seemed like Tech was still playing with you. Hard dick still in hand, he lined it up with your mouth, smearing more of your spit across your cheeks, "Truth be told I have imagined you underneath many men, underneath many clones," and with a single motion, Tech’s cock was being shoved back into your mouth, pushing your head backwards once more into the durasteel wall, this time with a much louder 'thwack.' To keep his balance, Tech held up an arm to rest up against the wall as he fucked into your mouth again, with his other hand falling down gently onto the top of your head. You tried your best to keep it together as the clone continued to thrust into your face. Tears spilled out from the corner of your eyes as you focused all your effort on timing your breathing and movements of your tongue together so every time he pulled out you had a swift moment to drink in a much needed breath of air before he sunk his dick back down your throat.

Reaching for anything to give yourself purchase, your hand instinctively raised and grabbed for any part of Tech you could touch, which happened to be high up on his thighs right below his toolbelt. The only sounds within the lift were Tech's grunts and moans and that undeniable wet 'glck glck glck' of someone being face fucked as your solid grip on Tech turned languid and your nails began to scratch across the plastoid surface with every snap of the clone's hips as he continued to use your mouth for his own pleasure.

Tech's grip on your head softened as he slowed down to a halt and pulled himself from your mouth with a breathy moan. Down your cheeks and face, your tears continued to fall, mixing with the saliva and traces of Tech's precum from in and around your mouth. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you cleared your throat, "now who sounds like a voyeur," you all but laughed out now that you were able to talk.

"That is cute that you would believe that watching you get fucked by my brothers is what I desire." Tech leaned down, his face right in front of yours and he grabbed your arms gently. His eyes darker than before "I think we both know that I have the capability to fuck you far better than anyone else." You watched Tech's eyes closely, not able to pick up on anything other than his arousal that was rapidly devolving into aggressive arrogance. It was not like you hadn't anticipated this behavior from Tech, he was engineered to be much more intelligent than others however he always seemed to be grounded and level-headed about that. After all, his intelligence was not through effort of his own, it's just how he was.

"You are awfully arrogant for someone who couldn't tell why the pretty girl kept looking at him." Now was not the time to get mouthy, as Tech, still holding your arms lifted them up over your head at your stupidly timed remark.

"You respond well to confidence and given instructions; two things that I excel at. Not to mention that-" Before Tech could finish his sentence, his comm buzzed from within his helmet, still lying on the cool floor where Tech has nonchalantly tossed it, interrupting the moment between you to thus far.

"Signal finally seems to be going through, Tech are you two still up in that lift?"

You let out a frustrated sigh as you anticipated the release of your arms after Echo had so graciously interrupted the two of you, however that release never came. Instead, Tech casually looked down to his helmet and then back to you, his expression was extraordinarily blank considering his face fucking session was just interrupted. His expression remained blank as he took both of your wrists into his right hand once more and bent down to grab for his helmet. Placing his helmet back onto his head, he could now respond to Echo as he returned his other hand to restrain your wrists once more but not before a new idea popped into your head as you sat as cool as you possibly could in this situation, not wanting to risk giving anything away to Tech, especially since he had a tendency be steps ahead, immediately comprehending your intentions before you could act upon them.

"Yes, we are still up here." Tech said flatly, his voice now back to its normal cadence and tone as he looked you up and down, grabbing his now half hard cock and suggestively waving it in your blushed face, making sure to gently slap it across your lips and cheek as if he was saying ‘now be a good girl and keep quiet.’

"Do you two need any assistance getting the lift up and running?" Echo's voice was still audible to both of you from within Tech’s helmet in the now silent lift and you sat forward in anticipation for Tech's reply.

"That is not necessary, we have everything under cont-'' before Tech could finish his sentence you leaned forward even further and opened your mouth, taking his dick into the warm wetness once again and this time you applied more than a generous amount of suction. Enough in fact to hollow your cheeks noticeably in the dim red light. Tech clearly did not anticipate this type of behavior, or more aptly, misbehavior, from you as he instinctually bucked his hips at your sudden touch and let out a stifled moan, trying not to let his brother hear him.

"Is everything okay over there?" Echo, quick to concern, promptly replied to Tech’s incomplete sentence and to Tech's relief, nothing in the clones intonation implied curiosity or smugness as would be expected from someone who just overheard someone else getting their dick sucked.

"Yes. We are almost finished." Tech gritted out as you continued to suck and lick at him while he tried his hardest not to moan out, lest you actually bring him to orgasm as he speaks to one of his brothers in real time.

"Okay, well, be sure to hurry up. Oh, and don’t mess with anything else. We don’t need to be signaling the Empire of another breach of security.” This time it was Hunter’s voice coming through. You two must have been up here for much longer than expected if he was contacting Tech.

“Copy that, Hunter. I estimate that we will be finishing up momentarily.” Tech all but spat out, trying to keep his voice as even as he could but obviously trying to wrap up the conversation in record time. Once the comm channel was quiet Tech reached up to turn his comm off before he spoke as he shot you a look brimming with disbelief, irritation, and arousal. However, to his annoyance you played coy, making sure to swiftly pull your head back without breaking the seal of your suction, creating a loud, wet ‘pop.’

"You are absolutely unbelievable!" As rarely as it happened, Tech had no words for what you just did. That was something he had not calculated for during his own mental playthrough of this mission beforehand, yet it did not go unnoticed. He would definitely be using this against you at a later date you were sure of it. But for the time being, you wanted to have a little fun with it. You watched as Tech reached again for his comm, turning it back on before Echo or Hunter decided to come looking for the both of you after your brief bout of dead air. You glanced at Tech through your lashes as you blinked seductively and once again took him into your mouth and started sucking with enthusiasm. With each swipe of your tongue, each bob of your head, Tech grew closer and closer to his climax. He was now thrusting his hips into your mouth and clenching his jaw, trying so damn hard to not let any sound escape from his mouth.

"Alright, let us know when you g-." Echo’s voice crackled over the comm for the last time as Tech abruptly reached for his comm switch, fingers rapping against his helmet urgently.

“I, Oh Maker, going to--Ahh!” Tech moaned out unexpectedly and loudly, his face burning red hot with a mix of unchecked lust and a dash of shame, breathing ragged as he hit the comm switch turning it off just in time to prevent anyone from overhearing his climax as he slammed his hips into your face, cock throbbing as his cum spilled into your mouth and down your throat. You gagged, followed by a muffled moan at the sudden warm liquid, not expecting Tech to full on orgasm from you pleasuring him as he talked to his brothers. Making sure to swallow every drop so as to not raise Hunter’s suspicions on your return, you sat back and relaxed your sore neck and shoulders as best as you could considering Tech still had a hold on your arms.

"I think we should really get this lift fixed so we can get back to the Marauder before Hunter starts to put the pieces together." You spoke as you let Tech's now softening dick fall from your mouth. You didn't feel the need to remark about the specificities of how Tech came just now but you were going to tease him with that information another time, after all the ammunition you just provided him sexually about yourself…you're going to need something to retaliate with.

"Do not worry about that, I had finished repairing the controls before you mentioned my nice features." Tech smirked as he recalled your words from earlier. "We will be out of here and back on board the Marauder in no time. Maybe we can continue this later as I imagine you are considerably lubricated for penetration.” Your face flushed at how clinical Tech's correct assumption of just how wet you were sounded, back to typical technical Tech…the man came once and he’s already back to normal.

“...And finish momentarily he did.” You couldn’t help yourself at pointing out the irony of Tech’s words to Hunter, trying to brush over what Tech just said to you.

Tech shook his head and rolled his eyes, opting to ignore your own silly little comment about him orgasming while being addressed by his sergeant, but he would most definitely be revisiting that with you later, as you so eagerly anticipated. Lowering your arms, he helped you stand back up, letting you rest your weight on him to steady yourself. Once you were standing, you retrieved your gloves from the floor and grabbed Tech's spanner that he had lent you as Tech got himself together and redressed, retrieving his codpiece from the floor and positioning it back between his legs. "Oh, and one last thing." Tech didn't give you time to process his words as he lifted his helmet slightly and pulled you into his chest and tilted your chin up gingerly, kissing you. "Was I too rough with you?" Any arrogance or lust from before was long gone and replaced with concern as the clone held your face in front of his.

"No, in fact you could have been a lot rougher, sir." You giggled as you placed the spanner back into a pouch on Tech's toolbelt. The technician rolled his eyes at you playfully as he turned back to the fixed control panel and fiddled with it some more, returning it within the wall causing the red emergency lights to shut off as they were replaced with the normal white ones as the lift returned to its original operational state and started descending.

#tech x reader #tbb tech x reader #tech bad batch #tbb tech x you #the bad batch #tbb #tech #tech x reader smut #tbb tech x reader smut

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afeelgoodblog · 1 year

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1. Girl with incurable cancer recovers after pioneering treatment

A girl’s incurable cancer has been cleared from her body after what scientists have described as the most sophisticated cell engineering to date. Alyssa, whose family do not wish to give their surname, was diagnosed with T-cell acute lymphoblastic leukaemia in May 2021.

Scientists at Great Ormond Street Hospital for Children in London gave her pre-manufactured cells edited using new technology to allow them to hunt down and destroy cancerous T-cells without attacking each other. Less than a month after being given the treatment, she was in remission, and was able to have a second bone marrow transplant.

Can I get a fuck cancer?

2. The UK has made gigabit internet a legal requirement for new homes

Updated regulations require new properties to be built with gigabit broadband connections and make it easier to install into existing blocks of flats across the UK. Connection costs will be capped at £2,000 per home, and developers must still install gigabit-ready infrastructure (including ducts, chambers, and termination points) and the fastest-available connection if they’re unable to secure a gigabit connection within the cost cap

3. US cancer death rate falls 33% since 1991

The rate of people dying from cancer in the United States has continuously declined over the past three decades, according to a new report from the American Cancer Society.

The US cancer death rate has fallen 33% since 1991, which corresponds to an estimated 3.8 million deaths averted, according to the report, published Thursday in CA: A Cancer Journal for Clinicians. Partly due to advances in treatment, early detection and less smoking, report says

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4. Lab-grown retinal eye cells make successful connections, open door for clinical trials to treat blindness

Retinal cells grown from stem cells can reach out and connect with neighbors, according to a new study, completing a “handshake” that may show the cells are ready for trials in humans with degenerative eye disorders.

Over a decade ago, researchers from the University of Wisconsin–Madison developed a way to grow organized clusters of cells, called organoids, that resemble the retina, the light-sensitive tissue at the back of the eye. They coaxed human skin cells reprogrammed to act as stem cells to develop into layers of several types of retinal cells that sense light and ultimately transmit what we see to the brain.

5. The ozone layer is on track to recover in the next 40 years, the United Nations says

The Earth's ozone layer is on its way to recovering, thanks to decades of work to get rid of ozone-damaging chemicals, a panel of international experts backed by the United Nations has found.

The ozone layer serves an important function for living things on Earth. This shield in the stratosphere protects humans and the environment from harmful levels of the sun's ultraviolet radiation. In the latest report on the progress of the Montreal Protocol, the U.N.-backed panel confirmed that nearly 99% of banned ozone-depleting substances have been phased out.

6. Uganda declares an end to Ebola outbreak

The Ugandan government has declared an end to its Ebola outbreak, less than four months after cases were first reported. Since 20 September, 56 people have died from the virus, which is spread through body fluids, and there have been 142 confirmed infections.

The country has reported no new infections in more than 42 days – twice the maximum incubation period of the virus, a World Health Organization benchmark for a country to be declared Ebola-free.

7. Doggy ‘daycare’ bus in Alaska goes viral on TikTok

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hongism · 1 year

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mists of celeste ➻ 49.5

➻ characters: mingi, hongjoong, seonghwa, san, minho, yunho ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst ➻ word count: 11.4k ➻ rating: m/18+ ➻ chapter specific warnings: talks of addiction & death ➻ pre a/n: as always, interims are completely optional and made in a way to where you won’t miss out on significant plot if you choose not to read! however, i highly recommend that you read them to better understand the full context of the story ^-^

⇐ previous | next ⇒ | masterlist

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very important pre-chapter note: at the end of mingi’s pov there is a break. at this point, the story is not happening in chronological order. everything that occurs after that break happens prior to recovering mc/minho from rathmos. then it switches back to after recovering them from rathmos. i think i made it very clear in the narrative but i wanna cover all my bases too so please note that happy reading ^-^

──────────── act seven ➻ part 1.5

It’s as the soft wrap over his knuckles sinks into the flesh of the punching bag before him that the door slides open and brings a visitor into the training room with Mingi. It does nothing to stop the pace of his swings, nor does it deter him from his course of action — that being to beat the shit out of an inanimate object, that is — but it does serve to make his senses hone in on the body that just stepped into the room.

Alone.

Laying his hand flat against the bag, Mingi steadies the weight of it before it swings back to him wildly and turns to face the newcomer head-on.

“Do you truly wish to be here, Doctor?” he asks before he even gets a good look at the person. He doesn’t need his eyes to know who it is anyway; the aura of the man is foreign and unnatural to him so there’s no one else it could be besides the new doctor.

“I was in search of the captain, but this’ll do just fine.” His voice lilts a bit, but the sound is grating on Mingi’s ears. “We have not spoken yet. How do you feel about my joining the crew?”

“You’re not Yunho.”

“No, I’m not.” His expression seems to twist in a way that implies he wants Mingi to believe he’s being tentative and careful about this conversation, but the tone of his voice is so directly opposite that that the Berserker sees straight through the ruse. “Is that an issue to you?”

He wants to pick apart your brain.

“You’re not Yunho,” Mingi repeats with more force to each word, “so you don’t know what questions to ask.”

He wants to cause trouble.

“Does that make you feel uncomfortable in my presence?”

Minho, he thinks his name was when Jongho mentioned bringing him onboard and showing him around. He isn’t all too interested in learning the man’s name or anything personal about him, however, when it’s so highly unlikely that he will be around for long.

“I don’t feel things the way you do, nor do I process tonal or visual implications the way you do.” Mingi is at the very least careful in the way he lets the doctor know that he’s not as sneaky as he hopes to be. “That’s your first mistake.”

“First?” There’s a level of amusement to the way Minho speaks, and it grates against Mingi’s mood terribly.

Plaything. Fool. Blood.

“Your second was entering this room alone.”

Blood, blood, blood.

The doctor licks his lips, eyes flitting to the panel beside the door that will let him out quickly, and Mingi feels the first delicious hit of fear radiate off the man a split second later.

“But I won’t hurt you.”

You could. You could kill him so easily. Wrap your fingers around his neck and feel the tendons snap under your weight, feel the bones shift under your fingertips. Think about the blood that would spill if you split him open.

“How gracious of you. I suppose I should thank you for your kindness and mercy?”

“I want to kill you. You’d best keep from acting facetious in my presence because that only makes me want to snap your neck. It wouldn’t be too difficult. I’m certainly stronger than you so I can align your neck to whatever angle I want without issue and violently twist your head so quickly that your neck snaps and crushes your windpipe. It wouldn’t be instant or painless, you’d probably feel quite a bit of pain in that scenario. You wouldn’t be able to breathe at all though, and given how much pain you would be suffering, you would very desperately want to breathe. It would take minutes for you to die, and I would feel none too torn up over it. All that to say, I do not want you as my doctor. I will remain with Yunho.”

“I understand that changing something on such a personal and sometimes intimate level can be daunting. Not everyone is open or willing to change such monumental things. However, as a doctor seeking the best interest of those around him above all else, it is my personal recommendation that you give my services a try. Your personal relationship with Yunho outside of him being your doctor is cause for concern, not because it’s wrong but because it puts a conflict of interest on Yunho’s shoulders.” Minho finds some confidence again as he speaks, and now that the veil has fallen, there is far more honesty to both his tone and expression. It matches exactly what Mingi feels rolling off of him in waves now, every facet matching and in harmony with fear ebbing away by the second.

It makes the voices quieter and quieter, too, until it’s easier to ignore them and push them down.

“If you are honest with me on all fronts, then that’s best for your safety too,” he relays to the doctor quickly. Sharp, cat-like eyes hone in on Mingi’s face. His gaze is similar to San’s in that regard, though San’s holds far more darkness and many more secrets. “Trying to deceive me will only put you in danger.”

“Ah. I think I understand then. My tone, my expression, my emotions — if all three are in line, then… that makes things easier for you?” Mingi nearly laughs out loud for no discernible reason other than sheer disbelief. It took this man all of a minute to understand what took Yunho several years to dissect, with little more than vague threats to guide him to the right answer. “Is that why you do so well in the presence of children?”

Mingi hums his approval, settling with the fact that he likely won’t be returning to the punching bag again today. As he begins to strip the soft wraps off his hands and arms, he takes a step in the doctor’s direction.

“Children have a much harder time lying than adults do. They don’t understand how to deceive or manipulate others’ thoughts and feelings as well either. If they do lie, their tone and expression both match what they’re feeling inside, which would be the conscious knowledge that they’re lying. It all matches. But an adult, an adult can do what you just did upon walking into this room. Feel overwhelming confidence in what they’re about to do, express with their face and gestures that they’re timid instead, and speak in a tone that implies cautiousness and lack of knowledge. You’ve already my file. You know a great deal about me. You did not need to ask my feelings about you joining this crew or my comfort level around you. You already knew, and I felt that.”

“Incredible,” Minho mutters to himself, and the wonder shines through in his gaze too. “Your file did fail to mention the astounding levels of intelligence you possess, although I sense that you do not weaponize it often in front of others unless it’s to warn the way you just did to me.”

“You would be correct.” He sidesteps the doctor to dispose of the leftover wrap in the waste bin near the wall. The man is still a bit in the way, almost blocking the door but not enough for Mingi to be unable to leave, and even as Mingi puts his palm on the touchpad, Minho steps further out of his path. Not out of fear, Mingi notes, but rather some minute level of consideration.

“How truly fortuitous it is that you live amongst such liars and deceivers then.”

The whoosh of the door opening fills his ears with white noise, and it’s joined by a clamor in his brain that spreads distance cheers and clanging metal.

“I expect we will speak again in the future, Doctor. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“The same to you, Mingi. Take care.”

“Oh, and for future reference, you’ll never find the captain down in here.”

“So it seems.” The lilt pushes its way back into Minho’s tone, but the door is already sliding back shut and putting a wall between them. Nails bite into Mingi’s palm as he curls them into a tight fist and refrains from slinging a punch at the wall. Of course he was never after Hongjoong; the man has enough sense to realize that that would have been the last place to look, and yet Mingi fell for that excuse hook, line, and sinker. He almost wants to call the doctor a genius simply on account of how well he pulled Mingi like putty in his hands.

“Everyone in life is after something, Mingi. They will all seek to use you, to lie to you, to deceive you. But I will you the power to fight back. My son, I will give you the power to kill. To fight. To win.”

“How amusing,” he mutters to himself. He won’t lay hands on the doctor as of yet — wouldn’t dare do so without permission from the captain — but should the time come, he imagines it wouldn’t be too difficult a task to snap his neck. A gun to the back of the head would cause too much of a mess, of course, and Spectre would likely not be pleased with having to clean up after him when he could be spending said time with his lover. A knife in the ribs would work too, perhaps, if he wants something more drawn out. The man is a doctor at the end of the day, however, so it would be best to end his life quickly so as to avoid the possibility of him trying to help himself.

Mingi winds up standing at his captain’s door shortly after, and he doesn’t bother knocking at the metal before making his way into the room. The lights are dimmed but not enough to keep the captain from view. It’s hardly a glorious sight either: slumped over his desk with papers strewn about as usual, but also accompanied by an open bottle of liquor near his left hand. There’s no glass in sight, but Mingi finds one soon enough as he pushes closer to the scene. Seemingly, it had rolled off the desk or out of Hongjoong’s hand at some point to find a new home on the carpet in front of the desk. It’s still in one piece, at the very least, though it lays atop a dark splotch on the carpet that makes the room reek of alcohol. Though he could wake Hongjoong now with no trouble, he opts not to for the time being. It’s easier to leave him asleep, easier to see him sleeping and not feel the full weight of everything the captain feels like the worst crashes of a tidal wave against him. So silently, Mingi collects the cork and presses it into the bottle, then picks up the glass tumbler that fell to the ground to add it to the mess on the desk.

“Lieutenant to Captain’s quarters.” The words are quiet enough to not disturb Hongjoong from his spot at the desk. Dragging the lieutenant into this mess isn’t ideal either but Mingi knows his limits. He isn’t suited to look after the captain while he’s in this state, not in the slightest, and he would rather not risk making matters worse by trying. Content to stay until Seonghwa arrives, Mingi drops into one of the armchairs set across from Hongjoong’s desk.

“I’m entirely sober, you know.”

Mingi laughs through his nose.

“You’ve gotten better at playing dead.”

“You didn’t have to call Seonghwa up.” Despite insisting upon his sober state, Hongjoong still seems to struggle quite a bit in peeling himself off the desk. Even when he does get himself somewhat upright, he relies on resting his head against the heel of his hand to keep from falling right back down. “I was just looking through leads and fell asleep.”

“And did you find anything new?”

Hongjoong opens his mouth then closes it just as quickly, gaze turning to the side before he mutters out a half-hearted response, “Let’s wait for Seonghwa to arrive.”

The following knocks on the door are so passionate that it makes Hongjoong sit up straighter if not in shock then perhaps in mild fear because of how enraged the person behind said knocks seems.

“A minute and thirteen seconds,” Mingi quips just before the door opens.

“Are you fucking wasted again, Kim Hongjoong?!”

“He’s gotten quicker,” Hongjoong retorts to the Berserker across from him before moving his focus to the back of the room. “Would you like to come sit, Seonghwa?”

“You… are not drunk.” The tension in the room deflates like air being let out of a balloon, making the pressure on Mingi’s shoulders pull away into something more manageable.

“It’s barely nighttime, of course I’m not.”

The spike in frustration behind Mingi tells him that Seonghwa wishes to say much more in response to that but he holds his tongue instead. Likely out of consideration for none other than the Berserker, and he feels that in full when Seonghwa squeezes Mingi’s shoulder on his way to the other empty chair across from Hongjoong.

“Any idea where San’s at?” The captain’s focus remains honed on his lieutenant like a magnet being pulled in one direction. The question, however, has Seonghwa huffing air through his teeth and leaning further back in his seat.

“Probably fucking—occupied, if I had to guess. It’s late, after all.”

Hongjoong barely reacts to the comments as he busies himself with cleaning a fraction of the mess across his desk. “And? Call him up so he can get back to fucking Miss Occupied quickly.” Seonghwa scoffs. Mingi eyes each paper lifted carefully — each one bearing similar red streaks and scribbled words in ink around words and pictures but that’s the only constant amongst the papers.

“San to Captain’s quarters,” Seonghwa says against his wristband, eyes not leaving his captain even though the favor is not returned.

“Here—” Hongjoong finds a book hidden beneath the rubble of paper and leans across the desk to hand it to Seonghwa. When the lieutenant doesn’t react fast enough, Mingi meets them halfway and takes the book from his captain’s hand to pass it off to his lieutenant in a fluid motion. “Read over that when you get the chance. There are some interesting notes on Fortuna and what’s contained in it. Might be good to have some clue about what we’re looking for when the time comes.”

Some part of Seonghwa reaches out to Mingi and it stabs Mingi right in the chest like a knife. Firm and sharp and like a small needle digging into his heart. But Seonghwa’s face reads no clear emotion, and Mingi hasn't felt such a thing before, so he's lost in a vast sea of unknowns. He isn’t left time to debate it internally either, since San makes a loud and hasty arrival seconds later. Something to ask Yunho about later, he notes to himself.

“Sorry for being late,” the Spectre exhales, and based on his breathing and the amount of time it took him to arrive, he ran to the bridge thinking it to be an emergency. He comes to stand between the chairs where Mingi and Seonghwa sit, one hand coming to rest on the back of each one as he leans towards the captain’s desk. Though the gesture seems casual enough, Mingi can see the quick scan of San’s eyes across the papers and the man behind the desk himself. “Did something happen?”

Hongjoong turns a larger slab of paper — a map of what appears to be the Vida system — towards them with a red pen in hand. He brings it down to circle one of the planets.

“Gorgon. That’s our next stop.”

Silence answers the man for several dragging seconds before San offers a response.

“…Gorgon.”

“There has been talk recently of a witch there,” Hongjoong continues. He pulls back briefly, shuffling through one of his drawers before returning with a tablet. After a few taps, he has another map displayed, though this one is far more detailed and intricate than a simple galactic orientation map. “Sehteno is the most common name brought up regarding the rumors. Small city, rather out of the way compared to other more populated ones. The witch supposedly lives down in the gorge beneath the city, and there’s no direct way to get to her unless it’s through under-the-table dealings. Those won’t be an issue at all. Military is lax in the area and not connected to the Aurum military network, so it will be a sufficient enough place to lay low for a time. Have the crew rest and recuperate on land.”

“What kind of witch are we talking about?” San inquires next. Though Hongjoong opens his mouth to respond, the answer comes from the man on San’s left instead.

“One that is rumored to communicate with the dead. Emphasis on rumored. We’ve looked into her in the past but nothing was concrete enough to warrant a search.” It isn’t as glaringly apparent, but Seonghwa’s tone holds some confusion too, indirect questions for Hongjoong to answer seconds later.

“I have a planet and the name of a city now. That ought to make things easier. A city is better than a planet, and a planet is better than a system. We have all those things and more. Black market dealings are nothing if not a specialty of ours.” The captain’s gaze shifts to the right to settle on Mingi. “I know I’ve asked you this before, but are you certain… you truly want to relive the past in this manner?”

“Is that what this is about?” His heart jumps a bit in his chest, a sudden burst of excitement that he isn’t used to, but this has been a mere pipedream for him for so long now that he never imagined it coming to fruition. “Is she capable of such things?” A true chance laid out before him now, one to settle the score and face the voices head-on. His fingers curl into his palms to curb the trembling anticipation now rushing through his body.

“I have high hopes that the rumors are true, but we do need to be prepared for the possibility of it not working out,” Hongjoong says under his breath.

“There’s always medication,” the lieutenant adds half a second later, keeping the quiet from lingering to any degree, “like those that Jongho takes.” But Mingi denies it with a shake of his head before the man can even finish speaking.

“Those are to dull the effects of what he feels a residual from his ability. There’s no medicine to quiet the voices.”

Hongjoong looks him in the eye, and Mingi stares back.

In that moment, he feels heat on the back of his neck, like that of the sun shining down on him, and there’s a heat clinging to his skin that makes him itch and burn. How long ago was it that they faced each other in a similar manner to this one? When the arena was very real and very present all around them both, when they stood face to face on the bloodstained sands and Hongjoong called for him to survive.

Kill, kill, kill!

Bring us his head, crush his bones, rip his throat out.

Past Hongjoong’s shoulder, residing as a phantom in the shadows, stands a man hunched over so far that he is at eye level with Mingi in the same way Hongjoong is. Dark brown hair greying to the point of obscurity, beady black eyes that reflect scenes of blood and corpses. It’s been so many years since Mingi set his hands around that man’s throat and forced the life out of him. The last witness to his crime of patricide is none other than the Healer, yet even after all these years, not once have they addressed it. He imagined coming to terms with such a loss was clean cut — finished as soon as it started and wiped clean once Mingi buried that body six feet in the ground behind Yunho’s clinic. His father is the last ghost trailing behind him, however, always moving with him and lingering in places where Mingi wants nothing more than to be alone. He’s settled whatever ghosts were left in that arena, and they’ve been quiet for some time now. All that remains is one bloody thumb pointed toward the ground and the raucous crowd that answers the call.

“Captain…”

“She is rumored to be capable of a lot of things if nothing else. I will see to it that she can do something for you.” His captain’s voice sounds muffled, like Hongjoong is speaking through a tank of water and Mingi’s ears are filled to the brim with liquid. Red seeps into the corners of his vision, then his eyes sting.

“I want them silenced for good,” he says through the metallic scent that brushes against his nose now. His mouth moves but nothing comes out. Hongjoong drops his gaze to the desk, and San’s hand moves from the chair to grasp Mingi’s shoulder.

“I’m not sure if that’s something she can do but we will do everything in our power to try. If nothing else, we can try.” His captain sounds certain and confident in ways that Mingi isn’t. “She may have information on where or how to find more Sirens too. The dead sometimes leave a trail that spreads far beyond that of the living.”

Hongjoong continues to speak, focus now redirected and shifted over to his lieutenant, but San is urging Mingi to his feet and ushering him around the chair. He barely has the right of mind to process what is going on, but the Spectre’s touch is so soft and gentle, something barely there in a feather-like sense, and it feels good on Mingi’s burning skin. He squeezes Mingi’s bicep as they reach the door. His palm spreads across Mingi’s shoulder blades when San turns and dismisses himself from the captain’s quarters.

The Berserker isn’t sure where he is or where they’re going, but San remains firmly by his side as they walk through long corridors and empty hallways. He blinks, and he’s returned to his room, sitting on the foot of his bed in a trance and a daze. The bathroom light is on. San emerges, cradled by the fluorescent light. He passes a damp rag into Mingi’s hands, then brings both of his up to cradle Mingi’s face.

“We will find a way to help you, Min,” the Spectre whispers. Mingi is confused as his face is brought against San’s chest, an awkward cradle meant to comfort him, though Mingi still isn’t wholly sure why he needs to be comforted, to begin with.

When San leaves and the door shuts to finally seal him away in solitude, Mingi looks down at the rag laid across his palms. Beneath it, four crescents dug deep into the skin and stained red with blood on each hand. The trail of crimson drips to the floor.

In the corner of the room, that phantom figure makes itself known again.

────────────

“We’re nearing Sombre, Captain.” Hongjoong glances up from his desk to find his lead strategist standing in the doorway, prim and proper as ever with hands folded behind his back in a way that makes his chest puff out. “You’ll be needed at the helm in roughly ten minutes.”

“Understood. Dismissed, Yeosang.” The room falls so quiet that Hongjoong nearly forgets that he is not alone; it’s only the slight stirring from the chair dragged up against the wood of his desk that clues him into the present again.

“I presume your decision is made then?” Seonghwa’s voice grates on his ears with a sharpness that Hongjoong is quickly growing used to from the man. He clenches his fingers hard around the pen in his hand.

“No.”

A sigh pushes past Seonghwa’s lips. The noise would humor Hongjoong if not for how irritated he is because Seonghwa sounds like he’s having to deal with a petulant child and the rather immature parts of the captain wish to cause some sort of distress in his right-hand man.

“We have one Siren. One, if she is not present on this crew. Please do not tell me you are so bothered by a woman that you would set our goals back so far.”

“We need Sirens,” Hongjoong prepares his counterargument internally as he speaks, and Seonghwa preemptively shakes his head. “And we need useful Sirens. What does she have to offer us beyond her status as a Siren? Good with a gun? A fair shot? Hot-headed, brash, arrogant, disobedient, messy, and walking cesspool of volatility, authority issues, and a savior complex. Did I cover all the bases?”

“If we didn’t so actively attempt to deceive and manipulate her, then perhaps—”

“Perhaps she would already be long gone! San alone was not enough to keep her on this crew and you know it!” Hongjoong jabs a finger at the man, pointed and accusatory in every manner. “You were the one to suggest your first tryst in bed with her, you wanted to offer that to her so that she would more readily stay, and more importantly trust you. I’m not at all surprised that you fell for her after fucking her once, and I warned you before you went through with it that your heart would hurt you in the long run.”

Seonghwa’s jaw snaps shut, making the scowl across his face appear all the more putrid.

“I knew you needed her!” In a shocking twist, their roles seem to flip — now Seonghwa’s tone carries a particular whine to it, the kind he uses when he begins to feel the weight of guilt bearing down on his shoulders. Hongjoong debates leaving him to be crushed under it. It’s a thought that has crossed his mind time and time again, each time they found themselves in similar places in the past, but as always, he comes up short of carrying through with it. His duty, his purpose, and the whole reason he keeps pushing forward with this self-assigned task lie within Seonghwa and everything he encompasses. The first lamb brought to slaughter saved by the very hand that sought to kill him.

Reaching across the desk to plant his palm down on the wood near where Seonghwa sits, Hongjoong fights to meet the man’s gaze.

“I am not going to give her what she wants, Seonghwa. You know what happens when I go get her? She will say that she was right, that I need her, that I can’t complete my mission without her.”

“Heaven forbid you actually do, Hongjoong!” Seonghwa gets like this when he’s denied what he wants, and perhaps that fault lies on Hongjoong’s shoulders for always being so accommodating to him and rarely ever denying him those wants in their years together. He’s spoiled the Siren more than he deserves, surely.

“I need Sirens, not Y/n. I need what she is and nothing else.”

“Then lie to her. Tell her it’s for me, for San, for the sake of the crew — lie like you always do, Hongjoong. You’re damn good at it!”

The captain hisses through his teeth. The flare of anger in his gut is too hot to ignore, and his hand snaps up from its position to clasp around Seonghwa’s face. His fingers bite into the soft flesh of his cheeks, palm smothering soft pink lips and pinching them with the brutish metal of his rings. Seonghwa’s eyes are wide and round, carrying far more innocence than is truly accurate to what Hongjoong knows the man to be.

“I am very much of the mind to let her lie in the grave she dug for herself, Seonghwa. What is it we say whenever one of the crew makes a stupid decision on their own? We’ve long since agreed to let them deal with the consequences on their own.”

“Only if it isn’t a matter of life or death! That man will kill her the first chance he gets, the second he’s done with her, the moment whatever purpose she’s fulfilling for him runs dry! But I suppose it’s not any different than how we’re forcing her to live here, seeing as you’re so ready to throw her away the first chance you get.”

“You keep her close because it better keeps her in line. Do not let guilt in now, not at this point after all the trouble we’ve gone through to keep her right where she is! You have been twisting her arm this long. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you have done nothing to properly teach her how to use her Siren abilities. Are you insecure all of a sudden, dear? Think you’ll be replaced? Do you need to be the only Siren useful to me now? How selfish.”

Seonghwa wrenches himself free of Hongjoong’s grasp but it leaves a pretty red swell to the corner of his lips where Hongjoong’s ring caught on skin. The captain wishes to ruin him more, to see the scowl settle in and make his cheeks blot red with fury.

“Captain?” This time, it isn’t Yeosang who interrupts but rather San. Still bound to that cursed wheelchair, Hongjoong can’t look at him straight quite yet. The memory of just how close that bullet came to paralyzing him springs to the forefront of his mind each time he sets his sights on the man. Three seconds too slow, three seconds of horrible planning, three seconds of absolute failure in his position as their leader. Him, the one who is supposed to guide them safely and protect them from harm. One quick glance at the sorry state of his crew as of late makes him laugh at his own reflection. The perfect picture of failure he is.

“Can you fly the ship?” Hongjoong inquires of the man. San surely came in to ask something else seeing as no one called him to the captain’s quarters, but Hongjoong pays that no mind for now.

“I mean — yeah, I think I can?”

“Then…?” Seonghwa is pushing his luck to the limits today. Maybe Hongjoong is feeling some kind of graciousness for once because one glance at San makes the decision right then and there for him.

“If you want to get to Rathmos to save her, you can go fly the damn ship yourself. Get Yunho to help if you have to, but I will not be doing so myself.”

“Hongjoong, this is truly pathetic, are you serious right now?” Of course Seonghwa would take the order at face value with no care for the nuances behind it or what Hongjoong is truly offering for San. When she left, San was incapable of protecting her to any degree because of his injury, and while Hongjoong isn't keen on it, he does know how desperately San adores and loves that woman — as pathetic of a notion as that is in his eyes.

“Is it not you who is being cruel right now? Let him have this, Hwa, he needs this. He can tell her he was the one to convince me and that he was the one to fly us to her rescue even in his current physical state.”

“All because you can’t admit needing someone to be part of your crew?”

“As long as she knows how valuable she is, she will use that to her advantage to act out of line and against me, just as she has been since she got comfortable on the crew. The second she got comfortable, those feelings of gratitude that she held turned in an instant. If I am to break her of that nasty little habit, then she needs to think she is completely and utterly useless in my eyes.”

“No more. Please, Hongjoong. Don’t make me do anything more,” San whispers, eyes stuck to his lap. Seonghwa exhales a quiet sigh and turns his face away. “I-I will do anything you ask of me. You know that. I’ve always done that, but I just…”

The captain finds himself at a loss for words. His most loyal dog reduced to this level of disarray because of one woman? Incredulous.

“Your hand in things is finished,” he says in return, watching the way San’s expression lifts to something akin to relief in the blink of an eye. All that hope placed in the palm of Hongjoong’s hand — it’s intoxicating to see how heavily these men rely on his word. If he desired, he could snuff out that hope for good. “Go fly the ship. I said no more than a week, we need to pick up the pace if we’re to stay on schedule.”

“Thank you,” San says under his breath. He sees himself out quickly after, wheeling himself to the door and slipping out onto the bridge to leave Seonghwa and Hongjoong alone in the room together. Still, it takes quite some time for either of them to speak, and even when Hongjoong does decide to break the silence, the air feels thick with tension.

“I want you to tell her that San has had a greater hand in things than anyone realizes. If she knows how closely he truly works with us both, it will plant the seeds of doubt.”

Seonghwa licks over the front of his teeth.

“Could you consider letting San have this one thing?”

“This one thing?” The rage he felt earlier comes bubbling up again and threatens to spill over the edges. “He can have her as freely as he wishes once we’ve broken her down into obedience.”

“So you’re lying to him now too then? His hand in things isn’t finished — you’re using what he did against him.”

“And what did he do, pray tell?”

Seonghwa is silent.

“I have not asked him to do anything cruel or unusual. I know San. He will do everything in his power to keep her close to him, and it will work. So I have zero concerns about the relationship between them failing. I did not lie. He has nothing more to do for me in regard to her destruction. Anything that happens next will be of his own volition.”

“Are you gonna turn her into the last one, is that it? Because he still has blood on his hands from that incident, don’t think I’ve fucking forgotten. I didn't ask him to try to kill the last one even though Jin was plotting a fucking mutiny against us! The only reason he got away with his bullshit is because you called San off before he could take care of the fucking problem.”

“You'd like it though, wouldn’t you?” Hongjoong tilts his chin upwards a hair to stare down the bridge of his nose in Seonghwa’s direction. “Love being the only one of value to me, the only one special to me, I bet you would kill her in her sleep if I told you enough pretty words.”

“Don’t. Don’t do it.”

“Anyway, if that becomes an inescapable need, I won't have him do it. I'll do it myself if I have to. Speak again when you’ve come back to your senses.” Seonghwa turns docile without much effort on his part but seeing him slump back in the chair in such a childlike manner makes the gears in his brain turn a little bit faster. He leans forward, moving his elbow up to the table in the same motion, and rests the side of his face against his knuckles. “Do you propose another idea, Seonghwa?”

Wordlessly, the man blinks at the side of Hongjoong’s desk several times before deigning to look the man behind it in the eye.

“You’re becoming obsessed again, to the point of derangement. You’ve been spiraling bit by bit for a while now, but San’s… the mission to retrieve San and the subsequent visit to my mother were like simultaneous breaking points. I need Y/n here, on this crew, on this ship, to prevent what happened when Jin left from happening again. I am still your lieutenant, Hongjoong, and I am still on your side as always. Please, trust that I will not allow her to have any thoughts of mutiny, and should those thoughts arise, I will take whatever steps necessary to squash them.”

The captain grins.

“It’s an honor to have you, Lieutenant Park.”

“And you, Captain.”

────────────

He hasn’t been down this far in the depths of the ship in some time. It’s rare for the captain to go further than the mess hall, though he does so today. It makes his mind wander back to times when the crew was far different and not full of the faces he’s grown used to seeing in the past few years, times when he (according to some) was a better captain to his crew. As time went on, so did the need for him to wander from door to door asking things of those who pledged their loyalty to him. He walks with purpose now to one door in particular that has not been used for months on end. It opens before he can even bring his knuckles up to the metal.

“Captain. I thought I heard your brooding coming down the hall.”

“Two days and you’ve made yourself at home already, I take it?”

The doctor, with his fading lilac hair and upturned lips, gives a few sideways nods.

“Something like that. Come in?”

Hongjoong hasn’t made himself accustomed to the interior designs of his crew either, though Minho’s room still holds memorabilia from people long passed that he does recognize. From the knick-knacks on the shelves to the cheap carpet sitting at the foot of the dresser, even the table and set of chairs placed near the wall are old relics of past memories Hongjoong can never let go of. The lines of scars at his hip seem to sting from the shot of nostalgia placed before his eyes. The chessboard laid out on the table is new, though; the doctor must have pulled that out of the depths of storage.

“Please, make yourself comfortable.” Either out of respect or an attempt to test the waters, Minho remains standing close to the door as Hongjoong moves towards the table. He sits on the side where the black chess pieces reside, already halfway to knowing that Minho intends to make him play this game, and if that truly is the case, then Hongjoong will make him take the first move. Minho, it seems, is one step ahead of him though. He joins Hongjoong at the table moments later, and upon sitting down and setting his mug down, he immediately turns the board around to have the white pieces now in front of Hongjoong’s hands instead of the black. The captain can’t contain the laugh that breaks through his lips.

“Why give me the illusion of choice at all then?”

“You did make a choice, a telling one at that. Thus, I’ll invite you to ask whatever it is you wish of me before I do the same in return.”

“The point of this game?” Hongjoong wastes no time in moving his first piece forward.

“To learn more about the man whose… delicate care I now find myself under.” Minho pushes a pawn further toward Hongjoong with the tip of his finger.

“What do you hope to learn?”

“I would like to see into your mind a bit, understand your decision-making process, see firsthand how you plot things out for both yourself and your crew.”

“This—” the captain passes his hand through the air in a rather dismissive manner “—game will show you all of that? How can you be so certain now that you’ve told me your intentions? I could easily skew the game in whatever way I like now.”

“Hiding our true nature is a near-impossible task,” Minho says under his breath. As his hand moves down to the board once again, Hongjoong slaps the side of the table with enough force to make the pieces quake under the impact.

“I’ve gone my whole life perfectly that craft. It would do you well to not underestimate me.”

The doctor matches Hongjoong’s stare with a lopsided grin, arms folded over his chest as he leans over his knees.

“Humor me then, Captain.”

It’s easy to fall into the rhythm of the game. Though it’s been some time since he engaged in any sort of activities outside of missions with his crew, this game is one he used to readily play with Yeosang. The Elitist was, of course, the only one who could match his level of play, and still claims the honor of being the sole member of the crew to beat Hongjoong at the game. It was only one time, but one time was more than enough for him to lose a good deal of credits on the bet they placed. Most of the crew did the same themselves — lost thousands of credits to Wooyoung, who was the sole person banking on Yeosang’s victory that night. The memory almost places a smile on his lips, and it likely would if he were not so conscious of the person sitting across from him at present.

“What is your professional opinion of Ghost?” he asks instead to keep the fonder emotions from slipping through. Minho doesn’t startle at the question, nor does he seem surprised in the slightest at the sudden shift in topic. His initial response is through a close-lipped hum. Words don’t come until the doctor peels his eyes off the chessboard and finishes his turn.

“She is very ready to oppose any sort of authority in her path.”

“Do you know why?”

“Hm.” He sits back enough to pull one leg over the other and clasps his hands around his knee. “Because she is used to doing so?”

Hongjoong moves his bishop behind a pawn.

“How do I fix that issue?”

“I speak to her. Often and with the intent to resolve whatever disconnect is present. These cases are very prominent in my field, and many times fellow doctors struggle with the same arrogance. It starts in pride, of course, but in her case, there is much trauma centered around those who have had power over her.”

“Let me rephrase — how do I resolve that quickly?”

Minho shrugs as he takes his turn at the chess pieces, eyes scanning the board for several seconds before he settles on his next move. Hongjoong watches the pawn sitting beside his bishop fall, then he takes Minho’s attacker in quick succession as retaliation.

“There is no ethical way to do so.”

“Then list the unethical options for me. Quickly.”

Minho stares.

“I’m certain you have already implemented many unethical methods of keeping her under your thumb of control. There is no need for me to add to the list, is there?” The doctor lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck. “I have physical proof of the measures taken to ensure my loyalty. If I did a little digging into that brain of hers, would I find proof of your cruelty too?”

“No. There are no scars there of my own doing. What others have done and will do — how could I have any control over that?” Hongjoong thinks back to Dorado, a fleeting memory that pushes its way in against his will. In his mind, he sees Seonghwa seated at his mother’s bedside with hands clasped over his head as though in some form of desperate prayer from where he had perched in the doorway. How could he have control over that? Before him, his queen lies exposed. He moves a knight into her line of defense without thinking.

“Check.”

He neglected to notice that in moving that knight, he exposed his king to a worse fate. He moves it in front of his queen to escape the check without saying anything, then watches the doctor knock that knight on its side a second later. Hongjoong almost laughs but manages to refrain long enough to move his bishop into its next position before glancing up and across the board.

“Checkmate.”

Minho inhales sharply, and his gaze darts all around the board as though desperate to find a way out of the corner he’s been backed into but Hongjoong already made sure there would be no escape several moves ago. “It seems that you’ve won, Captain.” He sits back as the defeat settles in, leaving the captain to swing his bishop against its final target. The clatter of the ivory on the wooden board is harsh on the ears.

“Did you learn all you wished to with that?” Rather than a straight answer, Hongjoong receives a rather unexpected question from the man.

“What position would you like Seonghwa to be in?”

A litany of filthy thoughts arises and threatens to leave the sanctity of his mouth.

“He’s right where I want him to be.”

“And is that where you consider him to be safest?”

“The closer he is to me, the safer he is.”

“Is he aware of that? Have you told him as much?” Hongjoong stares at the doctor in the hopes it will force him to drop the subject but Minho stares down at the now-defunct chessboard instead. “You hardly made any use of your queen except to protect her when threatened despite having many opportunities to use her offensively. You did not let her leave the king’s side for more than one move, even if it risked other players on your side of the game. Yet — you used your bishop to sabotage and sacrifice some of your own pieces if it meant moving that bishop ahead in the game. That is your telling cue, Captain. It speaks volumes to how you perceive your closest confidants.”

Hongjoong’s hand curls into a fist against his thigh.

“Is it the devotion of man or that which begs worship, I wonder? What compels you of all men to give so much to someone you don’t seem to feel deserves it? Unless… it’s the only thing that keeps that person where you want him? What’s the cost of your religion, captain? Of your faith? What must someone do to be counted amongst your devotees? Your eagerness to bend Y/n to your desires, to have her fall in line with whatever holy crusade you have in your mind… I cannot help but wonder what trials you would have her suffer to earn her place amongst the faithful. You leave me with much to ponder, Scourge. I suppose I ought to thank you for giving me a good game, but — and I hate to be the one to say this, trust that — I do not think you will be the best player I face.”

“He will never agree to play you in this game. I merely did so to entertain you, but Seonghwa has no interest in humoring a fool’s errand.”

“You thought I meant your lieutenant? No, no no, I’m afraid I meant someone else entirely.” Minho laughs to himself, head shaking as he redirects his focus to the floor. “To answer your earlier question, yes, I’ve learned much from this. But I’m left to wonder what exactly it is you want. You are a man who could have anything and everything he wants and yet you are still unsatisfied. What is so unattainable that it drives you to the brink of insanity? Don’t tell me yet — I… wish… to find that answer on my own.”

Hongjoong finds that his initial suspicions upon meeting this man were correct. Beyond the obvious quirks surrounding him, there were more minute details to pick up on from the near-constant swaying of his head from side to side to the slight slur in his tone. He huffs out a nearly inaudible laugh.

“How about we detail my expectations of you?”

“I imagine I don’t have much of a say in the matter,” the doctor says with a kind smile.

“Don’t let her try to play her games with you.”

Minho stops with his hand halfway to the mug on the table and shifts to stare at Hongjoong. He doesn’t try to hide the look of bewilderment painting his features this time.

“Do you fear her being successful for once?”

Hongjoong actually laughs at that, and based on the way Minho’s confusion continues to be apparent, the doctor wasn’t expecting such a reaction.

“She doesn’t need the confidence of success. The only way I am going to get her to stop fighting me is if she continues to fail. Hence—” Hongjoong leans across the table where the remnants of their earlier game linger untouched. Something rattles as he stretches over the board. The doctor reacts like a dog being handed a bone, expression turning suddenly alert as Hongjoong places an orange pill bottle on Minho’s side. “I’ll take every fucking pill off this ship if I have to. Don’t fuck her and don’t fuck around with her. Those are my rules.”

“You are…” the doctor wets his lips. His gaze loses its focus on Hongjoong as something else becomes much more enticing — the little bottle that looks so deceptively innocent in comparison to what it provides. “Quite greedy, Captain,” he whispers. He sits up straight and lunges forward like he’s going to snatch the bottle from the table, but the man opposite him is just as quick to steal it away once again. Minho winces. “I’d like to ask why those are your terms. Something tells me you won’t be wholly honest about it.”

“Desire drives her. Robbing her of what she wants makes her desperate. And when she’s desperate… she obeys. If I manufacture who has her and in what way they have her, then I can orchestrate her destruction, no? The perfect picture of obedience, the way to stop her from fighting me so heavily, to end her attempts to save those who do not need saving. All it takes are a few sweet words and fond glances to have her caving a bit. Imagine what I could do with her full devotion. I hope that is the sort of unethical option you predicted.”

“We have a term for that sort of behavior, Captain.”

“And I don’t need you to diagnose me with anything I don’t know already about myself.” Hongjoong tosses the bottle in his hand across the gap between the two men. It rattles dramatically as it passes through the air, and Minho jerks upwards to grab it before it can slip through his grasp a second time.

“Is this meant to be a reward for my hard work?” he inquires, teeth grinding hard against each other as he speaks.

“You can view it as such.” One corner of the captain’s lips twitches upwards. “But if Yunho starts asking questions, I cannot defend your addiction. He is the one keeping stock of our medications here on this ship after all.”

“You have issues with control. Probably a fear of not having control, which is amplifying pre-existing issues and mental instabilities.”

“Do you want your pills or not, doctor? I for one am not opposed to seeing how you fall apart without them. In fact, I would revel in it. So, tread carefully.” Minho clutches the orange bottle a little tighter. “You are free to do as you wish, but if I find you face down in a pool of your own vomit then my kindness will not last. If you’re alive, that is.”

“I have no qualms with those terms, Captain.”

“Good. Then, I’ll formally welcome you to the crew, doctor. Try not to disappoint me.”

Minho barely spares him a second glance when he gets up, and Hongjoong is all but invisible as he makes his way out of the room. The face that greets him in the hallway is a pleasant surprise.

“Yunho,” he exhales in a saccharine tone.

“Cap—Hongjoong. I was just checking in on San and Y/n.” Yunho’s gaze keeps flitting to the door at Hongjoong’s back now. That simply won’t do.

“Were you?” Hongjoong presses as he moves toward the taller man. “And how are our nesting lovebirds?”

“Y/n is healing well, physically at least. San’s been keeping up with the physical therapy well enough, but you already know that. Were you in—”

That simply won’t do.

“Come up with me, would you?”

“Huh?” Yunho’s brown eyes go a bit wide at the request. It wasn’t Hongjoong’s initial plan, but it was a good diversion tactic and part of him doesn’t want to sleep in an empty and cold bed alone tonight. “We haven’t — since we… with Seonghwa… huh?”

“And? I didn’t tell you to leave me forever. Let’s just go to bed, nothing else.”

“Have you spoken to Yunho at all since the other night?”

Seonghwa's resulting scowl is nothing pretty to behold but he wants to see it deepen further to the point of hatred.

“Of course not. You think he wants to speak to me at all?”

“Okay, um, yeah. I’ll meet you up there? In a little bit? I need to upload my notes and put them in files before I forget.”

“Mind if I stick around?”

“No…” Yunho drags his gaze all over Hongjoong, examining head to toe as though expecting to find something out of place about the smaller man. When his eyes rest on Hongjoong’s face once again, the captain offers a half-smile. “No, come on.”

He waits until they’re within the walls of the medical bay to speak his mind and broach the subject at hand, the metaphorical elephant in the room forcing space between them.

“Have you spoken to Seonghwa at all since the other night?”

Yunho lets out a sigh as he sits down at his makeshift desk.

“No, not even once. I doubt he wants to talk though.” Hongjoong nearly laughs at how horrifically similar the two men are. Instead, he watches Yunho plug his tablet into his computer and get to work on uploading those aforementioned notes. San’s name flickers across the screen.

“I'll talk to him tonight.”

Seonghwa stops where he is, midway to the only exit out of the chambers, and when he turns, Hongjoong sees his expression blossom into something venomous.

“So the two of you are still...?”

“Did I say that? I will speak with him tonight after dinner.”

“Has San’s resolve weakened since Y/n joined the crew?”

“Since he came face to face with her for the first time, more like,” Yunho answers without missing a beat or looking away from his screen. Hongjoong’s scowl reflects back at him on the screen, but the doctor doesn’t pay him any mind. “He’s always been a bit soft around the edges though. I think you set him up for failure in asking him—” Yunho cuts his thought short out of the blue, and Hongjoong’s gaze turns to sharp daggers on the back of his head.

“In asking him what? Who was gracious enough to tell you as much?”

When the younger turns, Hongjoong gets an eyeful of knitted brows and pursed lips.

“You did. You told me, Hongjoong. Because you felt guilty for giving him those orders, or at least you used to.”

“Seonghwa, I told you before that it's not your fault.”

“Then why is it that you're asking me whether I've talked to Yunho yet? Why are you asking as though that’s my responsibility? If you don’t consider me to be at fault then why am I being tasked with fixing this mess?”

Suddenly, Hongjoong wants to lie down. There’s a throbbing in the side of his head that keeps turning into something more piercing every few seconds, and Yunho’s stare feels more invasive by the second.

“I’m done here. Still wanna go up?”

“Let’s go.”

It’s as they leave the med bay side by side that Hongjoong recalls exactly why he hates coming down here so much. There are too many ghosts living in the walls and lining the corridors. Even in the brief darkness that comes when he blinks, he can see their faces at the corners of his vision. Stood still, alert, watching and waiting for the command from their captain who failed to do the one duty asked of him. He looks up to the side of Yunho’s face. Thinks of Seonghwa’s endless frustrations these days, of San being shot, of the kidnappings, of losing his newest crew member to a petty criminal who couldn’t hope to hold a candle to him and all he can taste at the back of his throat is failure.

He pushes further into Yunho’s space, enough to bump his shoulder against the other man’s arm as they make their trek in utter silence. The rhythm of their bodies is familiar as they cross the bridge, when Yunho brushes his knuckles over Hongjoong’s hip, and the captain smiles to himself. But once they reach the door and Hongjoong plasters himself between it and Yunho’s larger form, his wrists are caught mid-air on their path to reaching around Yunho’s shoulders.

“Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

Hongjoong had thought he would have more success with Yunho than he has with Seonghwa thus far — an easier time at least patching a bandage over the open wound still carved into his chest. And perhaps he thought he was already victorious on the walk up to his quarters, but Yunho stops that thought right where it is.

“Yeah,” he exhales back and moves his arms down to his sides once more.

The silence continues to permeate every inch of the room as Hongjoong gets ready for bed. Yunho makes himself at home as usual, but it’s evident that his thoughts are elsewhere based on how he looks around the bedroom like something is going to sprout up from the darkest corner. Hongjoong is no fool. He knows Yunho’s thoughts are on the mess of a situation that occurred not too long ago when both he and Seonghwa were present here for something Hongjoong should have had the foresight to stop far in advance. He finally says something about it midway through brushing his teeth.

“The two of you have got to talk eventually.” He nearly winces at the words coming from his own mouth because of how harsh they sound.

“What’s there to say, Hongjoong? Hey, sorry our fucking threesome didn’t work out because you’re too possessive over a man that’s not even yours. Sure, that’d over great.” Hongjoong glances in the mirror to see Yunho in the reflection, perched on the side of the bed but it’s not his usual spot. He always goes for the other side — has for all this time that they’ve been doing this — yet last time he was on that side, Hongjoong was under him and there were tears. Lots of them, in fact. His stomach turns in disgust at the memory alone.

He spits the leftover toothpaste into the sink.

“It’s unfortunate, Yunho, how everything played out. If I had been… had more common sense, I would have refused it right away.”

“Have your cake and eat it too, huh?”

Hongjoong sighs as he exits the bathroom, hands already moving to his hips in a way that echoes the chastisement he’s ready to hurl Yunho’s way. Either the exhaustion or the shreds of guilt he does feel win over though, because he can’t bring himself to lay into Yunho much.

“Stop arguing with me over it then,” he says instead, climbing into bed on a side that’s foreign and uncomfortable to him. They have their backs to each other even now.

“I’m not even the one who fucked up, Joong! It was Seonghwa’s brilliant fucking idea, why am I being punished for it? Hell, even you fucked up more than I did by insisting that you were okay with it!”

“I get it, Yunho. I know whose fault it is. You aren’t being punished.”

The younger man exhales a pathetic excuse for a laugh. More than anything, Hongjoong wishes he had the courage to turn over and face him, to see how badly he fucked up written on Yunho’s expression, and try to mend the cracks as best he can. At the end of the day, however, he knows what he is — a coward running from his demons, even when they’re at his back begging to be seen. If there’s a grave to be dug, Hongjoong stands at the edge with a shovel and plunges it deeper into the dirt.

“I wanted it. That’s why I pushed for it, and I’m sorry—”

“Now you’re fucking sorry!” Yunho huffs out a scoff. “For fuck’s sake, Joong, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to salvage whatever was left of my relationship with Seonghwa.”

“And I’m sorry, what more can I say? You should have said no from the start—”

“I can’t say no to you, Hongjoong! That’s the fucking problem here! It didn’t matter to me what my feelings about it were because I just wanted you to be happy.”

“I said over and over that I didn’t want you to base your decision on what you thought would please me. It wasn’t about my happiness, it was about comforting — comforting him! He asked to sleep with us, I asked you if it was alright and you said it was, so—”

“What does he have, Hongjoong? What is it that he has that I do not? Why is he enough for you and yet I’m not?”

The rawness in Yunho’s voice is what stops him, at least that’s what Hongjoong will tell himself in the days to come because it is easier to swallow such a pill. Seonghwa has his jealousy, and Yunho has his fear of inadequacy. Hongjoong knows what both sides of their respective coins look like well enough after all these years together, and he knows how they flip. Yunho is teetering on an edge with no knowledge of what side he wants to land on.

“Is this how it’s going to be between us now? Arguing back and forth before bed?” Yunho’s tone is still strong, for all that’s worth.

“You tell me, Yun, you’re the one who turned this into a fight.”

“The issue isn’t that you love him, Hongjoong. You know that.”

“What’s the issue then?” Hongjoong sounds as defeated as he feels when those words get pushed out into the side of his pillow. He doesn’t have the heart to admit his true feelings even now, though it should be easy to deny something so heinous. Behind him, Yunho shifts under the sheets as though trying to increase the already obscene amount of distance between their bodies. Maybe Hongjoong should be grateful enough that Yunho is even here to warm the bed with him, despite not touching him or giving in to his captain’s advances earlier. What he says next snipes those hopeful feelings right out of Hongjoong’s chest.

“It’s that you don’t love me.”

Ice crawls its way through his body in a split second, and suddenly it’s almost as though his lungs have been dunked in frozen water.

“You always say that Seonghwa and I don’t get along, that we can’t possibly be suited for each other, that the two of us are the problem because we can’t see eye to eye. But really, if your love was fair and kind, Hongjoong, that wouldn’t be an issue. Don’t worry. I know my place at your side. And I will never try to take Seonghwa’s because I know where I belong. If it’s at your feet, then again I tell you I shall grovel. But, my captain, you cannot ask me to accept an unfair bargain of love. I’m selfish and greedy, but I too just want to be loved fairly. At this point, I don’t think I will ever receive such a thing from you and for that reason, I will take steps back where necessary. I simply request that you allow me to mend myself on my own terms.”

“Yunho—” His voice sounds choked and broken even with just one word uttered. Yunho continues like he hasn’t said a thing.

“It’s nothing personal, Captain.”

The ice pick in Hongjoong’s chest sinks deeper.

“I simply fear that your use for me has run dry.”

“That’s… hardly true at all, Yun.” But speaking those words out loud is harder than imagined, and Hongjoong chokes on them, around the tongue that feels like lead in his mouth. The bed creaks again, but this time Yunho is rolling over to face Hongjoong’s back. Tentatively, the captain shifts to match the movements. “That’s the furthest thing from the truth.”

“Let me salvage what I have left, Captain. Otherwise, you may end up with another notch on your hip.”

Staring each other in the eye like this, however, Yunho hardly looks like a man who has deigned to pull away, especially as he reaches out to touch Hongjoong’s cheek and laughs under his breath.

“Can I even dare to call you mine if this is how things must be?”

“You do this, Hongjoong. You! You take the things you claim to love and care about and you — you break them, you tear them apart! Leave Yunho out of whatever fucked up problems are still left between us, for the love of god.”

Hongjoong reaches up to clasp his fingers around the ones Yunho lays against his face. The line of morality has always been a muddled one for him, yet now with a soul so pure and innocent in the palm of his hand, he feels the full weight of right versus wrong upon his shoulders. The words staining the back of his tongue black with bile are nothing pretty — no encouragement or reassurance meant to bring Yunho down from his hysteria — and so Hongjoong swallows them down in favor of giving him something beautiful.

“Or you… force them into a mold and pretend they’re yours. And every fucking time, they fall for it just to break from the pressure of you trying to pin them there.”

“My Yunho.” In the hierarchy of things that Hongjoong considers to be his, he does not need to think long about where Yunho falls. It’s so very clear in his mind’s eye: fourth from the top on a good day, somewhere lower when other needs arise. The shame is that Yunho has decided to be so greedy as to crave a higher place. He peels Yunho’s hand away from his face and brings those long fingers to press against the soft curve of his lips. The gleam in Yunho’s eyes softens with each kiss Hongjoong lays against him until he’s putty in Hongjoong’s hands. “You’re mine.”

The words are spoken so softly that Yunho doesn’t dare disrupt the fragile peace between them. He doesn’t bother to ask if the same is true of Hongjoong, if Hongjoong is his too, but that thought seems far and away already as the captain guides him to lay flat on his back, leg swinging across Yunho’s hips seconds later. From his new perch, he sees the reverence in Yunho’s eyes. It’s as beautiful as it is delicate. Hongjoong seals the cracks with a feather-like kiss.

──────────── a/n: hi hi long time no moc! ngl the wc got away from me i really expected 6k max on this but then it kept going and going and we don’t stop the writing gods when they want the narrative to keep going thus.. she is a bit long! i’ve been sitting on this for a wee bit just bc i wanted to get a bit of 50 fleshed out and in a good place before posting this so we’re working hard here at caly’s writing station 😎 as always plspls let me know what you think!

as always the questionnaire is available and open (https://forms.gle/rMvFD1TDz52nRJMN9), don’t be shy to fill it out honestly! i genuinely use it to improve my writing and storytelling so it’s very helpful to me to see feedback and work off of it as best i can 💪

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez series #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yeosang x reader #wooyoung x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #jongho x reader #yunho x reader #ateez fanfic #mists of celeste #caly.writes

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eowyntheavenger · 4 months

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By Susan Montoya Bryan

LOS ALAMOS, N.M. — The movie about a man who changed the course of the world’s history by shepherding the development of the first atomic bomb is expected to be a blockbuster, dramatic and full of suspense.

On the sidelines will be a community downwind from the testing site in the southern New Mexico desert, the impacts of which the U.S. government never has fully acknowledged. The movie on the life of scientist J. Robert Oppenheimer and the top-secret work of the Manhattan Project sheds no light on those residents’ pain.

“They’ll never reflect on the fact that New Mexicans gave their lives. They did the dirtiest of jobs. They invaded our lives and our lands and then they left,” Tina Cordova, a cancer survivor and founder of a group of New Mexico downwinders, said of the scientists and military officials who established a secret city in Los Alamos during the 1940s and tested their work at the Trinity Site some 200 miles away.

Cordova’s group, the Tularosa Basin Downwinders Consortium, has been working with the Union of Concerned Scientists and others for years to bring attention to what the Manhattan Project did to people in New Mexico.

While film critics celebrate “Oppenheimer” and officials in Los Alamos prepare for the spotlight to be on their town, downwinders remain frustrated with the U.S. government — and now movie producers — for not recognizing their plight.

Advocates held vigils Saturday on the 78th anniversary of the Trinity Test in New Mexico and in New York City, where director Christopher Nolan and others participated in a panel discussion following a special screening of the film.

Nolan has called the Trinity Test an extraordinary moment in human history.

“I wanted to take the audience into that room and be there for when that button is pushed and really fully bring the audience to this moment in time,” he said in a clip being used by Universal Studios to promote the film.

The movie is based on Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin’s Pulitzer Prize-winning “American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer.” Nolan has said Oppenheimer’s story is both a dream and a nightmare.

Lilly Adams, a senior outreach coordinator with the Union of Concerned Scientists, participated in the New York vigil and said it was meant to show support for New Mexicans who have been affected.

“The human cost of Oppenheimer’s Trinity Test, and all nuclear weapons activities, is a crucial part of the conversation around U.S. nuclear legacy,” she said in an email. “We have to reckon with this human cost to fully understand Oppenheimer’s legacy and the harm caused by nuclear weapons.”

In developing and testing nuclear weapons, Adams said the U.S. government effectively “poisoned its own people, many of whom are still waiting for recognition and justice.”

Adams and others have said they hope that those involved in making “Oppenheimer” help raise awareness about the downwinders, who have not been added to the list of those covered by the federal government’s compensation program for people exposed to radiation.

Government officials chose the Trinity Test Site because it was remote and flat, with predictable winds. Due to the secret nature of the project, residents in surrounding areas were not warned.

The Tularosa Basin was home to a rural population that lived off the land by raising livestock and tending to gardens and farms. They drew water from cisterns and holding ponds. They had no idea that the fine ash that settled on everything in the days following the explosion was from the world’s first atomic blast.

The government initially tried to hide it, saying that an explosion at a munitions dump caused the rumble and bright light, which could be seen more than 160 miles away.

It wasn’t until the U.S. dropped bombs on Japan weeks later that New Mexico residents realized what they had witnessed.

According to the Manhattan Project National Historical Park, large amounts of radiation shot up into the atmosphere and fallout descended over an area about 250 miles long and 200 miles (322 kilometers) wide. Scientists tracked part of the fallout pattern as far as the Atlantic Ocean, but the greatest concentration settled about 30 miles from the test site.

For Cordova and younger generations who are dealing with cancer, the lack of acknowledgment by the government and those involved with the film is inexcusable.

“We were left here to live with the consequences,” Cordova said. “And they’ll over-glorify the science and the scientists and make no mention of us. And you know what? Shame on them.”

#oppenheimer #nuclear weapons #nuclear testing

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hopeisour4letteredword · 1 year

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cmon flynn the man’s waiting for an answer

[ID: A four-panel comic featuring Tales of Vesperia characters in flat color on a pink background. Panel 1: A hand holds a piece of paper which depicts the meme of a person on all fours with sharp teeth and covered in blood. The person also has heart eyes, hearts floating around them, and a bouquet of roses clutched in their teeth. The text over the image reads “do you still like me” Panel 2: Flynn, shown from the waist up and dressed down in a plain black turtleneck, looks down at the piece of paper in his hand. His expression is unimpressed. Panel 3: Flynn lowers the paper and glances up, one eyebrow raised. Panel 4: Yuri is shown from the chest up, beaming. He is blushing slightly and has sparkles and flowers radiating from his face. He is also splattered with blood. He says “well?” with pink hearts in the speech bubble. Flynn, the back of his head and shoulders visible, has an anime sweat drop. /End ID]

#fluri #flynn scifo #yuri lowell #tales of vesperia #the lil meme guy came from #image source tumblr user sandmandaddy69

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probablyasocialecologist · 10 months

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The missing element in our sustainable energy strategy is a renewable source of thermal energy. Geothermal energy produces heat, but its potential is limited to regions that have volcanoes. Biomass is another option, but it faces many problems. If we were to try to provide an important share of heat demand by burning biomass, we would quickly come up against the limits of what the planet can produce. There is only one source of heat energy left, and it is a powerful and inexhaustible one: solar energy. We tend to see solar energy as yet another way to generate electricity, using photovoltaic panels or solar thermal power plants. But solar energy can also be applied directly, without the intermediate step of generating electricity. Basically, harvesting direct solar energy can happen in two ways: by means of water-based flat plate collectors or evacuated tube collectors, which collect solar radiation from all directions and can reach temperatures of 120 °C (248 °F), and by means of solar concentrator collectors, which track the sun, concentrate its radiation, and can generate much higher temperatures. These can be parabolic trough systems, linear concentrating Fresnel collectors, parabolic dish systems or solar power towers. Almost all of these technologies were developed at the turn of the 20th century.

#solar power #solar energy #solar thermal #solar furnaces #solar punk #fascinating and hopeful stuff!

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sinisterexaggerator · 5 months

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WIP excerpt: Stars Above (THIS IS A "FLASHBACK" / Dream scenario.)

Aka me describing why Bane has a metal plate now, the cause clear in the lost bounty hunter arc from Clone Wars -- I finally finished that part from yesterday! And at NIGHT. After WORK. GASP.

Stay tuned ( or not), and I MAY edit this again before posting the whole chapter. I'm crazy, I edit and write as I go. xD

---

His quick draw was the cause of his notoriety. To be outdone - to lose to a snot-nosed kid - it would be an embarrassment, though highly understated. The only thing he had left to him was his reputation, and Fett was out to steal it from him, albeit fair and square. He couldn’t – wouldn’t – let that happen.

Bane pulled his weapon; he squeezed the trigger. Simultaneously, another shot was fired. Superheated plasma - imbued with an explosive quality - transferred kinetic and thermal force to the armor plating that lined his signature bolero.

It was not enough to stay the bolt; he felt a searing pain on the left side of his head, radiating across his brow and the upper part of his domed skull. He fell back flat, staring up at a now starless, barren sky. He was out of breath, and he thought this is where he ought to die.

Bane would close his eyes, legs stretched out and arms taut at his sides. He had no idea the outcome; that it had been a tie; that Boba Fett had saved himself from his demise by wearing his daddy’s beskar, yet the young hunter’s aim had not betrayed him.

“Mister Bane!” he would hear his droid call aloud in a worried tone. He had repeated it three times now, though the Duros found he could not move. The only thing he could perceive in this state was a scathing ache; an excruciating, endless throbbing, right where the bolt made contact with his hat and ricocheted.

The plasma had been so hot, so volatile, it had dissolved his scales clean off and scorched him to the bone — the durasteel panel had dented inward before his hat rebounded off his head and fluttered to the ground, molten metal boring easily through flesh and osseous tissue, slowed only partially.

Tears welled behind shut eyelids, as in that moment he wished the boy had killed him.

#cad bane #wip #stars above #my writing #lost bounty hunter arc #clone wars #star wars #cad bane x oc #boba fett

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alphaman99 · 7 months

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As more & more counties get more solar farms.....

From a STEPHENVILLE resident, George Franklin:

I should start by telling you what bonafides I have for writing this. I am a retired aerospace engineer. A literal rocket scientist if you will. I worked on MX (Peacekeeper) Space Shuttle, Hubble, Brilliant Pebbles, PACOSS, Space Station, MMU, B2, the Sultan of Brunei's half billion dollar private 747 with crystal showers, gold sinks and 100 dollar a yard coiffed silk carpets. I designed a satphone installation on prince Jeffry's 757. I did all of the design work for the structure of Mark 1V propulsion module currently flying on at least 3 spacecraft that I know of. Some of the more exciting projects I have worked on are not shareable. My personal projects include a spin fishing reel with a 4.5 inch spool which is entirely my own designed, machined and assembled. It has 2 features that are patentable. A unique true flat level wind and a unique line pickup mechanism. I am also am FAA certified glider pilot and FAI certified gold glider pilot. I fly both full scale and model sailplanes. I am Microsoft certified and ComTIA A+ certified.

Solar panels are at best about 20% efficient. They convert 0% of the UV light that hits them. None of the visible spectrum and only some of the IR spectrum. At the same time as they are absorbing light they are absorbing heat from the sun. This absorbed heat is radiated into the adjacent atmosphere. It should be obvious what happens next. When air is warmed it rises. Even small differences in ordinary land surfaces are capable of creating powerful forces of weather like thunderstorms and tornadoes. These weather phenomena are initiated and reinforced by land features as they are blown downwind. It is all too obvious to me what will happen with the heat generated by an entire solar farm. Solar farms will become thunderstorm and tornado incubators and magnets.

Solar panels are dark and and they emit energy to the space above them when they are not being radiated. This is known as black-body radiation. Satellites flying in space use this phenomenon to cool internal components. If they didn't do this they would fry themselves.

So solar farms not only produce more heat in summer than the original land that they were installed on, but they also produce more cooling in winter, thus exacerbating weather extremes.

So I conclude with this. There is nothing green about green energy except the dirty money flowing into corrupt pockets.

There is not such thing as green energy. The science doesn't exist. The technology doesn't exist. The engineering doesn't exist. We are being pushed to save the planet with solutions that are worse than the problems.

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milflewis · 11 months

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brocedes and 50 (out of love)…. :’)

[50: out of love]

Lewis leans against the wall, eyes closed, and slides down until he’s sitting on the floor, shoulders squeezed in between the legs of his massage table and the side panelling of his half open wardrobe. He presses his head back against the wall until it aches dully, feet flat on the carpet.

He breathes. He just needs a few minutes before the post race briefing. His shirt sticks to his back with shower water and the residue of champagne.

His music is loud enough, and his noise cancelling headphones are good enough, that most of the sounds of celebrations outside are muffled. He should be out there.

He stuck around for the podium and some pictures after and before and he’ll go back out — he will. He will. He just needs.

He needs a minute.

He doesn’t realise that he left the door unlocked until there’s a cold nose pushing at his hand. He flexed his fingers, knuckles sore and stiff. He blinks.

Enni blinks back up at him, the sight of the Artic Fox as familiar as Alejandra, who is watching them from under the table. The jaguar can just barely fit. Lewis can’t remember the last time he’s seen them with each other. Somehow, the thought is worse thing to happen today.

He tugs his headphones down.

“Lewis,” is all she says, and curls up next to him. She radiates very little heat, as tiny as she is, small chest rising and falling against Lewis’s forearm. When Lewis won his first title, she curled up and around the back of his neck, tail hanging down, and stayed there the whole night, even when Nico disappeared with Mark intermittently.

He runs careful fingers down over her head, circling the shape of her ear. She pushes back up into it. Ale stirs, barely just arching her back and settling back down, eyes yellow and glowing in the shadows, the rest of her near invisible, fur melting into the dark black. Lewis sends her a look. She only blinks defiantly back at him.

“He loves you,” Enni says, and Lewis hums. Nico and his problem was never one of love; not a lack nor overindulgence.

“He will leave.”

She doesn’t flinch. It is no surprise to anyone who knows Nico, even if Lewis doesn’t know if Nico himself even knows he’s going to yet.

There’s a messily handmade tiny collar tied loosely around her neck, interwoven strings of soft colours. Lewis was there when Nico’s kids presented it to her. He helped them tie it on. Vivian had laughed, delighted, hair tucked behind her ears.

“I can’t forgive him,” Lewis says, quiet and tired and heartsore. He considers this for a moment. “I won’t.”

“That’s part of why he’s leaving,” she insists, curling in closer. He drags a hand gently down his back, smoothening her snow white fur.

“Maybe.” Lewis watches Alejandra. “And that’s just something else I can’t — won’t — forgive him for.”

Enni doesn’t understand it. She might never will. She is, fundamentally, an extension of Nico’s soul and Lewis knows, this will probably never be something that Nico will understand. Will scoff and roll his eyes and tell Lewis to stop being so dramatic and it’s just racing and he does it with everyone. And that might be true — it honestly probably is — but he didn’t do it to everyone. He did it to Lewis. And Lewis let him.

Lewis went along with it. Lewis did it with him.

He slides down until he’s lying in his back, head turned so she’s up against his face. His nose brushes hers. He presses a kiss between her eyes, cheek warm on the top of her head. She growls lowly under him, bumping his throat and staying there.

“Take care of him,” Lewis says, the only thing he’s able to give her — and him — right now. “Take care of all of them.”

#made lewis softer and sadder than he was irl but tbf! in this universe he is walking around with his soul outside of his body and so is nico #which i do think would make their whole divorce era even more interesting and messy and sad #personally i think there is a criminal lack of daemon aus in this fandom #credit to akira for helping me pick out daemon creatures and their names!#brocedes #kiss fic prompt ask game #anon tag #niamh.asks

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babyspacebatclone · 6 months

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I don’t know if anyone can help me on this, but it would be appreciated if you.

In the winter, there’s this “whir” noise that randomly happens in my apartment.

It never lasts for more than 2 seconds, and while not exactly it makes me think of the sound a pull-back car toy makes when released.

So I’m assuming a flat coil spring of some kind?

I usually notice it when I’m in my bedroom, because that’s where I spend most of my time.

This means it seems to come from my kitchen, or possibly the electrical panel in that area.

It does not seem to come from the bathroom, and it is definitely not from the radiators. Those line the opposite wall - that is, the radiators are along the outside walls under the windows, and the sound seems to come from the area towards the walls that face into the apartment building hall.

I very much doubt it’s from the hallway, the soundproofing in my apartment (outside the windows) is exceptionally good.

It’s one of those things that’s annoying when it happens, but is so short and infrequent I’ve forgotten about it until it happens again.

Any clue what’s making that noise so I can at least have that much closure?

#ramble #apartment living #noises #random noises #if it was the radiator #i wouldn’t care #but that makes clunk-tick noises

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josiebelladonna · 1 year

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paraselenae | mirage

pairing: alex skolnick x fem!ocs (love is not enough)

genre: hardcore erotica

fandoms: testament

*18+ only; minors dni*

Warnings: sex in front of a mirror

*Please note that you are responsible for your own media consumption. I came here to write and relax, not police you.*

Summary: alex and q at the santa cruz boardwalk (for @teababe27 💜)

Word Count: 3078

Q was woken up the sound of a knock on the hotel door panel. Jay was still sleeping in the bed right next to her, and thus, she climbed out of the bed with one foot over the other down onto the floor. It had been a long trip out to the California coast prior to then, and the two of them needed some time alone to rest and recharge before they did anything else, and anything that involved the making of their money back in any way possible. But she wondered if it would be anything urgent as she padded across the carpet to the door there.

She peered through the peephole, and her heart skipped a few beats when she recognized that little tuft of gray hair at the top of a helmet of black curls as well as an aquiline nose from the side. She opened the door part of the way, and he turned his attention to her and showed her a little smile.

She brought a finger to her lips, to which he nodded his head at her.

“We have to keep quiet,” she whispered to him.

“Why is that?”

She gestured back behind her, and he gasped at the sight of Jay laying there on the bed by the window.

“She had a long night,” Q explained, still in a soft whisper. “We came out here and—you know what, I have a better idea.”

She stepped outside and almost shut the room door all the way right behind her. She stood before him, complete with the crown of her head right up to his chest; she gazed up at him and their eyes locked, like they had never locked with one another before then.

“Jay and I came out here just yesterday, and she was pretty much beat,” she explained, that time in a louder tone of voice, and then she nudged a lock of hair back from the side of her neck and raised her head for a look up at him. “I can be happy to do something for you, though.” She showed him a smile.

“I’m kind of in the mood for a little lovin’,” he confessed to her with a shrug.

“Okay. Uh—where would you like to go?”

“Well, I'm feeling a little hungry right now.” He rested a hand on his smooth flat little washboard of a belly. “What say you and I have something to eat together and we can bring something home to sweet Jay in here?”

She squinted her eyes at him, and then she reached up and rested her hands upon his shoulders for a light little massage. She moved in closer to his body to better feel the warmth that radiated out from his chest and his little belly. Q raised herself up onto her toes to give him a gentle kiss on the side of the neck, as she had missed the bottom of his cheek as part of her proper hello to him.

“Here, lemme help—” He bent his knees so she could have a better caress of his face. She closed his eyes as she gave him the softest kiss by far on the side of his cheek, such that it coaxed a sweet little smile out of him. She gave him another one, complete with one hand pressed onto his chest to feel his heartbeat as well as that tender warmth from inside his stomach.

“I have a better idea,” she told him, right into his ear and in a hushed voice. He licked his lips and opened his eyes for a look into her own; she raised her hand from his chest so as to hold his face and feel the soft skin on his jaw.

“We’re not too far from the boardwalk,” she informed him. “There’s a whole little amusement park there—I don’t really know it very well. This is Jay’s neck of the woods but I don’t really feel like waking her up, though.” He stood up all the way right next to her, and she ran her fingers through her soft locks. “We can bring her a funnel cake—she absolutely loves those.”

“Really?” he chuckled.

“Oh, yeah! You should see her with one of them—it's like watching a little girl eat something sweet and decadent at her grandparents’ house.”

He chuckled at that, a nice hearty little bounce of a chuckle that seemed to come from somewhere deep within his little belly. He then ran his fingers through his black curls and reached into his pocket for something; Q led the way away from the hotel and he put on his sunglasses.

The sun hung high in the sky over their heads as they walked along the boulevard towards the sight of the ocean at the far end. He peered around them to the long low buildings that lined the block: right at the next corner up stood a little open-air surf shack with a rack of sunglasses out in the front there before the entrance.

“You know, I could use a new pair for myself,” he told her as they neared the entrance of the shop. He picked off the pair near the top of the rack, and showed her the mirrored lenses.

She nodded her head and showed him a smile.

“I like those,” she said. “They fit your face nicely. You know what else fits your face nicely?”

He took them off and she showed him a pair of rectangular regular glasses, which albeit had a slight violet tint to the lenses. He put them on and her face lit up at the sight of them.

“Oh, god, so cute!” she proclaimed.

“You think so?” he asked her with a raise of his eyebrows.

“They’re so utterly adorable on you!” He turned to the small mirror at the top of the rack for a look himself, and he showed his reflection a little smile.

“I guess they are quite nice on me,” he remarked. “I saw there was one of those quick glasses places up the street. Those guys’ll change the prescription in like an hour or something like that.”

“Oh, absolutely,” she said as she took out her wallet from the front pocket of her jeans.

“You got it?” he asked her.

“I’ve got you and Jay both covered several times over,” she assured him.

Once she had paid for his glasses and sunglasses, they walked on towards the end of the block, where they were met with another narrow street plus a cream-colored fence across the pavement from them. He turned his head to find the back end of the roller coaster right behind the fence as well as a handful of trees and a few long, low buildings on the other side. Thus, was the boardwalk.

He was eager to make his way inside as the two of them made their way through the entrance and into the actual wooden part of the boardwalk itself, nestled between four carnival games and some cotton candy. The bright colors of the balloons and the candy, the smell of the cooking sugar and the popcorn, the swarming, ballooning feeling of innocence all around him... it was all so nostalgic for him as he remembered the fair and few days as a young boy where he and his parents would go across the country just to go to Coney Island as well as the park back up home in San Francisco.

“This way, this way...” she coaxed him away from the front entrance of the boardwalk towards the center where the walkways met up with one another. It was right then he spotted the place with the churros and the funnel cakes off to the left of them. The roller coaster right next to the fence was already in full swing right behind them, and yet, Q seemed to have another idea for them.

“Before we have any fun and games here, I want to take you somewhere near and dear,” she quipped to him, and she took him by the hand once again, and she led him through the small clusters of people for the day, back towards the roller coaster and those long low buildings in question, particularly to the one on the right.

It stood far removed from the roller coaster with a view of the ocean, and right near another small stand that sold bunches of brightly colored cotton candy and bags of popcorn: the hypnotic smell of both followed the two of them up to the ramp and the walkway around the perimeter of the building itself. He tucked a lock of hair behind his ear and licked his lips: the smells were almost too much to bear for him. One appetite had to be settled first, however.

Q led him to the narrow doorway of the house of mirrors, to which he found himself surrounded by himself. Those same blue eyes that gazed back at him. The plume of gray upon his head that seemed to float around him like the wisps of smoke from a fledgling fire.

“Whoa,” he remarked.

“Yeah. I remember the first time we came in here and she and I were trying to chase one another in here.”

He chuckled at that as he took a glimpse up above them, to the mirrors on the ceiling. Luckily, the floor was made of rickety, slightly aged wood covered in a dark carpet, but he was curious about the rest of the house as Q reached out before her to touch the mirrors all around her.

“There is something weirdly unsettling about this,” he confessed to her in a low voice.

“Unsettling but also hypnotic,” she retorted; they hung a left and the next corridor over had mirrors on the floor. There was no one else in there with them.

The two of them stood there in the middle of the mirrors, surrounded by themselves, shown themselves to each other in infinite fashion. Q glanced up at him and the eternal row of his jet-black curls and ocean blue eyes reflected back to back right behind his head, and he showed her a playful, lopsided little smile.

“We’re all alone in here,” she told him.

“Indeed, we are,” he remarked, and he lowered his voice a bit. She licked her lips, and he raised his gaze to the eternal row of her smooth hair and soft eyes reflected upon each other right behind her head, as well as his own reflection in junction with her. It was too much and yet not enough all at the same time.

“We should—” She cracked him a smile, and he raised his eyebrows at her.

“You sure you wanna do that, Q?”

“Positive.”

“But what about Jay, though?”

“What about Jay? She's sleeping, and she won’t mind, either.”

“And also, what about in here?” he asked her.

“What about this place?” She chuckled at that, a light little chuckle that sounded like a pair of wine glasses clinking together. “Let’s do it on the mirror here, and the mirrors across from us can show off everything about us.”

He swallowed and inched back to the mirror behind him. He glanced all around him to the mirrors on the walls. His reflections upon reflections, the mirrors upon mirrors. Surrounded by himself and by reflections upon reflections of Q and her head of smooth light hair and her sturdy little body.

“Is it driving you crazy, big boy?” she teased him. “Is our love driving you up the wall?”

“Why would it drive me up the wall?” he asked her, befuddled.

“Because we’ve been told that we’re too much, especially Jay herself.”

“You ladies aren’t too much for me,” he told her, and his voice lowered once again just so the echo across the mirrors would subside away enough to warrant themselves moments of silence in an otherwise public place. He took his glasses off his face and tucked the earpiece down the collar of his shirt, and all the while, he showed off his Adam’s apple to her. He then lowered his gaze to her and parted his lips, as if he beckoned her for all the kisses in the world, all the love in the world.

“If anything—I don’t think either of you can handle me,” he whispered right into her face.

“Nonsense,” she quipped back to him in a near whisper.

“Let me ask you a question, dear Q,” he began again. “How do you feel about all these reflections around us?”

“I feel like I'm dancing on the back of a kaleidoscope,” she told him, “and you’re at the helm of it all. You're the glass, my dear baby boy. The glass, the heart of it all—” She moved in closer to his face and the reflections of her head did as well. At the center of it all, and yet the whole entire thing seemed to blend into itself. If neither of them knew better, they swore that one of those reflections were at the center of it all and not the two of them. They were all following each other, in one big symphony, one big optical illusion, one big mirage.

She gazed into his eyes, big and blue and voluminous, out there in the open without the glasses on for all the souls to behold themselves through the mirror’s image all around them.

An eternity and yet one at the same time.

Every reflection did the same thing: the same kisses, the same caresses, the same unbuttoning of his jeans to reveal his burgeoning erection and her fondling him to move it forth a bit more so she could grind him. Every single one, bounced upon itself to the point that he swore it was choking him.

He shot his arms up in the air so she could better feel his body. Every reflection upon itself. All a mirage and the feeling that it was really happening all at the same time. Her warmth and her dampness pressed upon the full length of his dick as she bound down upon him the way that she knew so well.

He pressed his head to the wall behind him, as did every reflection around them. It was almost too much to bear, too much to feel, too much to consider and take within himself, such that he didn’t know if he was the one reaching his climax or the field of souls all around him. Q parted her lips and breathed into his; he then reached down between her legs for a feeling under her hood to make her do it again, and that time for each reflection to hear her.

She tipped her head back as his index finger caressed over that little nub there. She breathed harder, and harder, and more so as he dug deeper within her for another burst of that euphoric feeling. The feeling that no other man or boy could ever give to her or Jay up to that point.

She let out a low sigh, followed by a gentle moan that echoed over the mirrors all around them, and he cracked her a smile as a result of the feeling that he would always bestow onto her. The feeling that would never escape either of them, lest love ravage them both down the line. And yet, somehow, he knew that the three of them would always find their way back to each other. Back to the cozy room. Back to the mirage all around them.

Q leaned forward and rested her head upon his chest to hear his heartbeat, and then she remembered that he had his glasses tucked down right there. She raised her head and gazed straight into his face yet again.

“Let’s go back to privacy,” she coaxed him in a soft voice.

“Of course,” he replied, and the tone of his voice was still low and husky. She ran her fingers down his chest onto his stomach, and he knew that they would be packing in the funnel cakes soon enough.

“Let’s also have a little fun here, too,” he said. “We are at the boardwalk—California's Coney Island.”

“It really is! At least, that’s according to Jay.”

“Okay, now—how do we find our way outta here?” he asked her, that time with a clearing of his throat.

“This way—” Q took him by the hand and guided him along the wooden floor towards the mirror that faced them straight on, and she hung a left down the next corridor. The house of mirrors became a maze right before their eyes.

And yet, she managed to bring them to the centerpiece of the house, the room with the vast mirrors and the small ones piled on top for one great big mirage right before their eyes. He squeezed her hand a bit, and then he lifted up her hand for a kiss on the back. A soft warm blush crossed her face and the mirrors showed it off to the two of them to witness for themselves.

“I think it’s this way, big fella,” she coaxed him, and she led him off to the left, and indeed, there was the other entryway which led out of the house of mirrors and back into broad daylight.

A ride on the roller coaster, a dart game for a pair of teddy bears, one for Q and one for Jay, and then some plates of funnel cake back to the hotel room, and they returned to the hotel room, where Jay herself had woken up and showered off.

When Q unlocked the door, they were greeted by her wrapped up in her bathrobe and a towel coiled upon her head to keep her hair off her neck.

“Oh, hello, cutie pie,” Jay greeted him, and he nudged the black frame up the bridge of his nose.

“I like them, too,” Q said with a quick nod.

“Bespectacled is a really good look for you,” she told him with a wink. Q sauntered over to her with her teddy bear in hand for her, and she whispered something into her ear. Jay shot out her tongue and wrinkled her nose at that. Q then turned back to him for a flash of her eyebrows, and he lowered his glasses frames just to flash them both a wink as well.

#THIS IS HOW YOU SHOW YOUR MUTUALS LOVE YOU FUCKING WEINERS #fuckuary #fuckuary '23 #fuckuary 2023 #day 15 #fanfic #fanfiction #testament #testament band #alex skolnick #love is not enough #love is not enough fanfic #oc tag #smut #also on ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #writing #text

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