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the-wintershade · 4 years

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a feeling | rain (2)

pairing: connor (rk800) x reader summary: Connor discovers something about you that doesn't add up while you, Connor, and Hank get a lead on the deviant and move to intercept. (plus some fluffy moments cause why not?) wc: 4.8k+ genre: fluff,

Rain: series — 01 | 02 | 03

“Here, take your shoes off at the door.” The door to your place beeped as you typed in the code, 5961, and gives with a soft click. Connor followed closely, his LED a quizzical yellow as he was excited to regard the way you decided to decorate your apartment. He has read that the way humans furnish their living space says a lot of the character of a person, what they like and dislike, who they are. It feels to him as having the knowledge of a telepath and it is thrilling.

He walks with small, short steps as if he is a child being introduced to a room full of strangers. He is not tense, actually quick relaxed, ambling into your kitchen without a hint of stiffness. His eyes fall onto your living room and he will not lie in the fact that he is a bit disappointed. Your living room and its decorum are quite muted.

There is a large dominance of the color guy with small accents of white and black here and there. The only bit of color the living space holds is your blue mug sitting on the table. His eyes take in the other parts of your place that are visible; a medium sized flat screen, a bookshelf that is partially full, and a painting on the wall, it is in black and white of course, but there is the slight tint of gold if you look close enough. It is not all what he expected from you, from someone with so much vibrancy about them, with so much light.

You turned to find him looking about the place with a faint crease on his forehead and his head minutely slanted to the right. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was thinking, why was it so bare? Why didn’t you have more things? Why is it so bleak? You would know, you’ve asked yourself the same thing and the answer tended to change every time your brain tried to create a response.

“Is there anything I can get you?” You questioned, leaning on the counter. You tried to draw him out of those thoughts.

His LED blinked a bit before he was able to turn and look over his shoulder, giving a tiny smile. “No, Officer (y/l/n), I’m fine.” He looked at the ceiling, the light fixtures (nothing special), and the smooth paint of the walls. “I was just observing your apartment.”

You chuckled as you moved to sit on the sofa, your keys jangling as they hit the island’s countertop as if that wasn’t obvious. “Well do tell, how’s the view?” Spinning a bit, you raised your arm, gesturing to everything in the room.

He took a minute to think, his eyes never leaving yours. “I think that the tones are a bit muted, I’d have expected more color from you.” He nodded his head forward as he said the last part, trying to convey his feelings gently.

You weren’t disappointed nor hurt by his statement, it was the truth. You wanted your apartment to be that way, it made redecorating that much easier. If you found pieces that were of a monotone persuasion, you could add in accent colors and different colored throws without making a big hassle about it. Plus, it was great for feeling aesthetically pleasing.

“I’ll take it.” Your feet guided you to the bookshelf and you plucked a volume from the many on that line. You hadn’t been able to get out to the bookstore yet, but you were thrilled to see what kind of stories the local bookstore would hold.

“If it’s not too much to ask, why so monotone?” Connor’s voice rang through the stillness of the apartment, its pitch bouncing off the walls a bit. You cradled the book in your hands before moving to sit on the sofa, falling down with a small rush of air expelling from the cushions. Letting your fingers graze over the tops of the pages, you met his widened eyes, his previous question lingering on them.

“It makes redecorating easier.” You hummed. It was the truth, well, partially.

“Do you part take in that often?” He moved a bit closer, opting for the loveseat to your right.

You chuckled before an uh slipped out. “Not, really.” Your eyes glanced around you as if the answer would be written on the coffee table. “Just sometimes,” your hands played with your book cover. “Sometimes, you just need a change of scenery.”

Sighing, you found him watching you with a high level of interest. It was a little startling. You have never seen him so intent on what you’ve said before, it wasn’t even that interesting. His LED was whirling, however, the only object indicating the words you had said had hit their mark. What he was thinking so hard about, you had no idea, but you knew this was strange behavior, even for him.

“I’m not sure I understand. You said you don’t redecorate often and then you proceeded to say that sometimes you need a change of scenery, doesn’t that mean that you do alter what you find attractive in your living space often?” He did that head tilt thing again.

“Well, if often is about once a year, then yes,” you nodded setting your book down. “I do it often.” You stood and proceeded into the kitchen and prepared to cook your close to growling stomach something to eat. The sound of pots and pans clicking against each other was the only thing that filled the silence of the apartment for a beat and then you heard Connor’s voice fairly close.

“Officer (y/l/n), I know a substantial amount of recipes. Would you like me to recreate one for you?” His voice was closer, you could hear his socks on the wood flooring, moving now within an arm's reach.

“No, that’s alright Connor. I’ll manage.” You slid over to the fridge, grabbing a few items before closing the door and turning back to the pots on the stove. Your seasonings at the ready you prepared a meal and let the water in the small pot coming to a boil, watching the tiny bubbles rise to the surface of the water.

Connor was at a loss. It seemed in the time here, he had failed to attain any source of information that would be helpful in his mission to get to know you. All of the questions he asked were answered with a vague response, one that prompted more than five more inquiries to take the place of the one before. Perhaps, you were a much more complex person than what he initially expected.

There was this quality, one he could not pinpoint, but one that drew him to you even more. He wanted to get to the bottom of this and the only way he could do that was by asking deeper questions. He would figure you out, even if it killed him.

“Officer (y/l/n), can I ask you a personal question?” He leaned onto the island and you turned to see those warm brown eyes lingering on yours. Here we go. Whenever he asked a “personal question” Hank had returned either fuming or with a pleasant attitude, which one would it be today?

“Sure, Connor.” You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back into the counter behind you.

“What happened at the house, today?” He tried to read your reaction, in case he might have pushed too far, but your expression remained neutral, enough that prompted him to continue with his follow up. “You had this look in your eyes, one I’ve never seen.” I was worried about you.

Your eyes dropped and your posture changed a bit. It went from relaxed and loose to standing up straight and a bit rigged. Connor knew he just touched on something you were not comfortable speaking about, Lieutenant Anderson would display similar reactions. He was getting ready to back peddle but you started talking.

“I…” You turned, flipping the eye of the stove off so the water wouldn’t boil over. You sighed. “I apologize. That wasn’t like me at all, I don’t know what happened, I just - I just reacted, I know that probably frightened you.” You dumped the pasta into the water and turned the eye back on, adding a pinch of salt. “I didn’t mean to get like that, it’s just - nevermind.” You let the corner of your mouth tilt up a little before bringing it back down.

“It won’t happen again.” You nodded at him, looking at him directly in the eyes.

Connor was not sure what he was more afraid of; the fact that you might never open up to him or the fact that there was a part of you hidden so deep inside you were scared to let come to light. He was well aware of the fact that you did not have full confidence in him, but the hesitation that laced your voice meant he was getting somewhere and he would keep going, keep pushing till you opened up to him. He wanted you to trust him, he wanted it more than anything.

For now, he watched you throw together a quick and easy chicken alfredo.

...

You had insisted that he stay and Connor took pleasure in the fact that he could conversate with you on many different topics. He had a hunch it might be as a result of all the books you spent your time reading, but he was not one hundred percent sure.

Eventually, the both of you made your way to the couch, sitting next to each other, nearly touching. Connor watched you flick through the television in an attempt to find something that would peak your interest. He was not watching the screen, he was watching you. In your concentration, your forehead furrowed, eyes wide open, trying to capture everything so your brain could keep up with the information it received.

“Is everything alright, Connor?” Your eyes never left the screen. You must have noticed him watching you so intently.

He flushed a light blue, somewhat embarrassed you had noticed so quickly. “Everything is fine, Officer.” Smiling a bit, he moved his eyes to the screen.

Software Instability ^^^^^^

...

It did not take you long before you were fast asleep, your head lolling to the side. Connor was still caught up in the movie you had chosen, a fast-paced action thriller, Equalizer, before he noticed your slumbered state. Your head easily slid over to your shoulder and the touch of it had rather startled him.

“Officer (y/l/n)?” He said, moving his attention from the television to the weight of your cheek upon his shoulder. Upon taking in your sleeping state, he was struck again at how fascinating you were. Your face was a mask of calm and peace, very different from that of the previous night. The very fact that when humans slept it wiped all of the emotional stress and worry on their face and made them look similar to what he would compare to an angel still shocked him. However, there were noticeable differences between your facial expression and Lieutenant Anderson’s. You were soft and delicate, a beautiful culmination of features, an angel in the literal sense and Lieutenant Anderson was relaxed, but still tense even when resting, a sort of strain that his face still held, like a type of emotional weight he could not escape even when he dreamed.

Connor had no idea what dreaming was like, the closest thing he had was when he would meet and talk with Amanda in his head. It was not a dream but he was not conscious of what was happening around him, similar, he would like to think, to the action of dreaming. He wondered what his dreams might be filled with; a list of never-ending ones and zeros, playback of what he saw earlier in the day, or maybe what he found pleasing to the eye, his most favorite moments. Your soft breaths drew him back into the now, the exhales gently moving the fabric of his jacket, pressing it further to his shoulder.

He knew that you had to either be tired enough or comfortable enough to fall asleep while he was there next to you, but he liked to think it was the latter, hoped it was the latter. His fingers reached out to brush a strand of hair that had fallen over your face back behind your ear, just as he had seen the people on the television do. He did not completely understand why it was such a soft, touching gesture when observing it on the screen, but doing it now, he understood its gentleness and intimacy. His fingertips barely brushed against the smooth skin of your cheek but it was enough to feel a connection, to feel as if he had just touched the most precious item in the world.

Smiling to himself, he located the blanket draped over the back of the couch and gave it a small tug. Using his arm that did not support your snoozing frame, he moved the blanket so it covered you completely. He was afraid to move you for the possibility he could wake you and from the little bags underneath your eyes, you were not sleeping very well to begin with.

Connor did not want to pry too much as seeing your previous reaction to his personal question, but one was lingering in the back of his mind. Why was the name under the apartment, Larkyn Cavallion? That was not your name. He did not mean to discover that detail, but when you gave him the address, everything connected to it popped up, including the name of the tenant. He did not want to say anything and the fact that you had a key meant that you did, in fact, live here, but he could not help but worry over the fact that you chose to cover up your identity.

Connor hoped he could make more progress with you, he wanted to help in any way he could but you had to open up first. He hoped that him spending time with you would help you feel more comfortable, hoped that it would allow him to be worthy of whatever emotional turmoil you would confide in him about, but until that day, he would make sure you knew how much he cared for you because the simple truth was, he did care for you - a lot.

Software Instability ^^^^^^^ [9 EVI]

...

The next morning you awoke asleep on the couch and the smell of bacon drifting to your nose. Connor had generously cooked breakfast, something you hadn’t had the chance to do in years, let alone wake up to it. You dragged yourself off the couch and apologized for falling asleep on their movie watching. Connor didn’t seem to mind, a small grin took over the corner of his face as he placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front of your groggy figure.

“Do not apologize, you were tired.” Connor spoke as if he’d read your mind. He moved back and placed a glass of orange juice in front of you.

He watched you eat eagerly, waiting to see your reaction. His LED moved to yellow as he studied your facial expression.

“This is really good.” You said between reaching for your glass of orange juice. “Thank you, Connor.”

Relief pumped through his veins, “You’re welcome, Officer.” He stood and moved towards the door, slipping his shoes on.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Where are you going?”

“I thought you might find it uncomfortable if I was in the apartment while you got dressed, I was going to stand outside the door.”

“Connor,” You deadpanned, “I’d feel even more awkward if you stood outside my door like some bodyguard. You’re welcome to watch something while I finished getting ready, it’s only going to take ten minutes, just sit on the couch.” You rose from your chair and went behind him, giving him a slight push to the sofa. “Sit,” You pressed his shoulders down, forcing him to flop on the sofa. “I’ll be back in a few.”

Connor was at a loss, that was the first time you have ever touched him in a playful manner. Maybe he was getting somewhere. His LED returned to a warm blue and a similar color bloomed on his cheeks.

...

Connor drove the two of you to a lead on the crime scene he had received word of, a comfortable conversation filling the car. It was a long car ride, about an hour to be exact, and to be completely frank, you weren’t sure why this was under DPD’s jurisdiction any longer, but you didn’t mind spending more time with Connor. You talked about the different departments and various cases the two of you worked on.

“...there was this one android I was chasing, I had to cross a highway to get to it and it had a little girl with her. I didn’t catch her but I know what she looks like. I remember the Lieutenant was furious with me after I returned back to where we’d started.” Connor kept his eyes focused on the road but his LED went about halfway yellow.

“Hank cares about you, you know.” You looked at him.

“I am a machine, if something happened to me, there would be another machine to replace me.” His LED moved towards yellow even more.

“Connor, we don’t want another machine, we want you. The you we’ve known for a long time now, the you we trust. I know you feel like you can’t die, but to us, you are alive. If something were to happen to you, we’d take it as hard as if a human died. You should think higher of your importance to us.” You patted him on the shoulder before moving to look out the windshield.

His LED went blue.

Software Instability ^^^^^^^^^ [9 EVI]

The conversation died as soon as the both of you laid your eyes on a large warehouse. Hank pulled up around the same time the two of you did, his expression just as confused as yours.

“What the hell?” Hank shut his car door and meandered his way over to the both of you.

“Lieutenant, I don’t understand. There are many places for a deviant to hide but I was not aware this was one of them.” Connor spoke out, his LED yellow.

“Me neither, Connor.” Hank looked over at you. “You doing alright?”

You smiled and nodded, “I just needed some sleep, that’s all.”

Hank seemed satisfied with your answer as he turned back to face the warehouse, a hard look passing over his features. “Welp, standing here doesn’t solve anything.” Pushing off the car, he started moving in the direction of the building’s door. “Let’s have a look.”

...

It took twenty minutes of scouring the large enclosure before you found anything and even then it was a bit of fabric, nothing drastic and not enough to confirm it was the deviant you were searching for. Now, walking through the large space for the third time, you were scanning behind a bunch of crates for the sixth time when you heard Connor yell.

“Lieutenant, Officer, I believe I’ve located something.” Hank and you exchanged a glance before moving to inspect what Connor had uncovered. He was crouched over whatever he found, blocking your view. You dropped down by him, placing a hand upon his back to steady yourself.

“What’d you find?” You looked at him, but he was already looking at you, brown orbs gazing at you with something hard to pinpoint. Surprise? Confusion? Either way, you removed your hand and placed it on the ground. His eyes shifted. They were still on you and once again, you were at a loss. Bafflement? Discouragement? Disappointment?

Hank cleared his throat, “Connor.”

Connor blinked and returned his focus to the ground. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

“What did you find?” Hank annunciated exasperatedly.

“Right,” He held up his pointer and middle fingers. “I found a trace of blue blood, I believe it is the deviant’s.” The air moved by your head. The sound of shattering glass echoed a few feet behind you.

“I think we found him,” Hank spoke up, drawing his gun. You drew your own but Connor had already taken off after him.

“Hank, call the department.” Your feet were already moving.

“Where are you going?”

“To help Connor!” You moved towards the direction you had last seen him, the wind whooshing by your ears. Your feet propelled you forward, faster than you ever thought possible. Connor was close behind, his jacket flapping in the wind. The deviant jumped a gate.

Connor climbed it with ease. You, on the other hand, had never climbed a gate in your life, so that was not going to work. “Connor! I’m going to work around, I’ll converge on you!” Connor paused, shocked you tagged along.

“Okay!” He dropped to the other side and you took off.

...

It took a bit of maneuvering, a bit of tree dodging, a bit of getting scratched by low hanging branches, but eventually, you broke clear and circled around to a clearing. The grass crunched underneath your feet. You saw a man in a dark jacket following a figure in a green hoodie. That had to be them. You corrected your trajectory and ran straight for the hoodie.

Green hoodie was moving. You weren’t that far behind. Neither was Connor. You didn’t shout, it would draw too much attention, just kept running. Pumping your arms faster. Breathing harder. The world moving faster than you could process it. Green hoodie found a building along the route and ducked into it, his figure no longer visible. The two of you came to a halt. You were breathing hard, but Connor obviously showed no signs of difficulty.

“Officer, your heart rate is spiking, are you okay?” He moved a little closer, but you held up a hand.

“Connor, it’s called cardio. I’ll live.” You smiled. “Let’s go get this guy.”

You drew your gun into both of your hands, keeping it taunt with your arms. There was only one way in and you were going in gung-ho, it would be faster than trying to wait it out. Connor followed you closely, not letting you move more than a footstep away from him.

“Officer (y/l/n), I believe I should go in first.” He moved a bit in front of you, forcing you to slow down.

“Connor, I have the gun. I’d feel better if I went first.” He did not like this answer as his LED moved to a blinking yellow.

“Please, Officer, let me enter first.”

“Connor…”

“I’m an android, if I go in first, it might not be as alarmed and I can talk it down.” He looked at you with wide, pleading eyes. Why he was so nervous, you still didn’t quite understand but it was a good idea, you couldn’t deny it.

You let out a sigh, “Fine,” Connor’s LED moved to a blue and a contented grin captured his face. “But, one indication of something going wrong, I’m shooting.”

His features steeled, determination taking over his face. “Okay.”

You walked up to the door together, this time you were close on his behind. Craning his head over his shoulders, he found your eyes. “You ready?”

Nodding, you gestured for him to proceed. “You first.” Right before he threw his shoulder into the door, you put your hand on his shoulder. “I’m right behind you, Connor.”

His eyes did that thing again and a warm expression took hold of his features. Then he tore his eyes off yours and forced the door open. You heard movement, but didn’t force your way in with Connor; he needed to do this alone, no matter how much you hated it.

“Hi, I’m Connor. I’m an android sent by cyberlife.” You’d have smiled if this wasn’t such an intense situation. “I’m not here to hurt you, I want to help you.”

“You can’t help me!” The deviant’s voice rang clear to you behind the door. “No one can!” The pitch of the deviant’s voice worried you, he was obviously sensitive and unstable. Deviants react like humans do and if you were in his position, you’d be ready to start throwing things.

“I know you don’t want to believe that, but trust me, we want to help. We all want to help.” There was a pause and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. “What’s your name?”

“Gregory.” His voice cracked.

“Gregory, we just want to talk. We know your owner was abusive, we just want to help make things right.”

“You don’t understand! You don’t understand what it’s like to be abused, to be treated like you're nothing!”

“Grego-”

“No! This ends now, maybe then you’ll know what it feels like.”

You didn’t wait any longer. Gun drawn, you moved through the doorway and right in front of Connor.

“Officer (y/l-” His LED was a furious red.

“Gregory put the weapon down.” You leveled the muzzle with his shoulder. You didn’t want to kill him but you would injure him if you had to, you would do anything to keep Connor safe. Gregory was hesitating, it was clear from the red of his LED and the way his arm was shaking, but he wasn’t calming down. That same frustrated and angry look captivated his eyes as they fell to the floor. Then they moved to you.

Everything happened in slow motion. From the way Gregory’s eyes changed, you knew without a doubt, he was going to fire that gun, but you needed to move quicker. You zeroed in on his shoulder and was about to pull the trigger when suddenly, Connor was there. He grabbed you around your waist and threw your weight to the side as a bang echoed off the walls. You weren’t sure who fired, but the fact that the android was still standing meant you had either missed or not fired at all. Connor cradled your body as you both hit the ground, the impact rattling your bones.

You didn’t have the time to question if you sustained any injuries, you needed to disable this android. Finally, aiming for the second time, you took your shot. It landed. You gave out, letting your head hit against the concrete floor. Closing your eyes, you took a couple breaths.

You felt a warm hand upon the side of his face, “Officer (y/l/n),” His voice was laced with worry and you didn’t need to open your eyes to know his mouth was turned down with a frown and his eyes were opened wide, scanning your face. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

A dull throb came from your non-dominant arm and you grunted a bit as you tried to move. He let you go a little so you could adjust your position, but he didn’t let you go all the way. His hand shifted to hold the back of your head. You pressed your arm to your side and came back with your finger covered in red. Blood.

You looked at Connor’s shoulder and saw wires and sparks and blue blood. “Oh my God, Connor, are you okay?” He looked down at the hole.

“I’m fine, Officer, I am replaceable.” He smiled at you, a gentle pressure now lingering on your neck.

“Connor, you aren’t replaceable to me. You remember what I told you earlier? You matter. You matter to me, do you understand me?” His figure loomed over you, your noses almost touching and his face paused in an expression of confusion and happiness.

“Officer (y/l/n), I can be replaced. You,” He smoothed a bit of your hair back. “Cannot be replaced. If you died, you could not return. Your life is more important than mine.” He cocked his head, his eyes becoming that of a puppy dog.

A warm feeling set in your stomach as you saw the way he watched you. You closed your eyes and pressed your foreheads together. “Your life is just as important to me, you reckless idiot,” you breathed out, letting the feeling of your pulse kill the pain in your arm.

Connor did not know how to receive this display, but he enjoyed having you near. His LED was a warm blue as he kept his chocolate orbs on you.

Software Instability ^^^^^^^^^^ [A9 EVI]

#rain series #connor (rk800) x reader #rk800 x reader #rk800 fic #connor x reader #connor fic #yay #more connor content #rain #series: rain

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romansrace · 3 years

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Season 13 Sassy Reviews: Episode 02 - Condragulations

Oh mama. This one didn’t do anything to address the strangely - and unnecessarily - tense atmosphere, and instead actively stirred the pot with bizarre remarks from Tina, Kandy and LaLa, and our first (but surely not last) instance of blatant producer favour.

Let’s get into it.

So episode 2 opens with the Porkchop girls being forced to *actually*, no gag, vote off one of their own people based just off of first impressions. Because...what we really needed in 2020/21 was for a group of marginalized people who had had their income and culture taken away for six months to, on first meeting nationwide-reaching colleagues who could become friends and found family, to be instead forced to create divisions between themselves. Really?

So the group votes out the kooky queen and the queen wearing the least feminine clothing, and then when it comes down to a re-vote on just those two...production makes all the queens vote again until a sacrifice is chosen. Seriously unpleasant stuff. Rosé, the queen who objects most virulently to this, is painted as haughty and self-important by the edit for...literally raising valid concerns and trying to stand up for the group. So I guess our hopes of the show moving on from having a vendetta against Jan and any of her friends are crushed just like that.

Then we cut over to the ‘winner’ group of queens. Production-influenced or not, they spend a LOT of the episode crowing and boasting about how brilliant they are, after all, they’ve all made the massive achievement of.... being voted by Ru to win a lipsync in the previous episode, including some VERY questionable performances.

The BIG TWIST that no-one could have seen coming is that... gasp, MAYBE the 7 eliminated queens weren’t actually eliminated on day one of a show that hasn’t had less than 9 competitors ever. And then the queen the losing girls voted out, Elliott with 2 Ts, is introduced to join the winning girls.

As I said in my previous review, it feels really bizarre in the same season that every second word out of Ru’s mouth is chicken soup for the soul about self-love and how actually they’re all winners, to actively go out of your way to split girls into two groups, one of Losers and one of Winners, in which the Winners get smoke blown up their ass about how they are better, and kind of reinforced by the show by focusing on them and only them in episode 2. Especially if they’re going to just proceed to do a split premiere group challenge LIKE THEY DID IN THE LAST SEASON without needing an arbitrary way to justify dividing the girls.

Anyway, the dolls have exactly the same mini and maxi as E1/2 of S12, which... I’m not sure how I feel about. Obviously everyone really enjoyed it in season 12, but a straight redo feels lazy.

Mini-challenge: present two runway looks with a loosely connected theme. Maxi: perform a RuMix with original verses to a new Ru song. Runway theme: a material.

So onto the mini first. All of the queens do broadly as well as each other, with - to my eye - Gottmik being head and shoulders above the group nailing both runways, Olivia Lux’s day look being the second best look on the runway, Tina Burner doing the most impressive bodywork out of the group on her night look, managing to compress her substantial body into a tiny vinyl-latex-esque miniskirt and tube top, and Symone being wildly overpraised for simply having a slim and fit physique that she decorated with material, a la Courtney Act from S6 or Naomi Smalls from S8. Brace yourselves, because this won’t be the first time.

The maxi challenge is a hot mess. The song isn’t great, and the queens take wildly varying approaches in terms of style, genre, and tempo. If you thought Roxxxy Andrews’ random singing on Read U Wrote U was out-of-place... for Condragulations (providing an episode title drop) by my count, three queens give us a rap, two queens sing, one queen gives us spoken word and one queen (Gottmik) gives us literally two bars as an intro.

And onn that note, there’s a bizarre production moment during the rehearsals for the performance in which a moment in which Gottmik experiences gender dysphoria, for including his gender identity in his verse - “I was born a girl” (which, in itself... is that really how a trans person would self-describe rather than e.g. AFAB? I kind of feel like I don’t know how I feel about that line going out to a straight audience) - is represented as Gottmik not having any idea that the other queens would hear his verse. In a group challenge. Where the challenge is to each perform a verse of the same song, as a group, in front of each other. Ok Henny.

The choreography is not great in the challenge, with the best performance of the group going imo to the underrated Elliott, who is, of course, a dancer. Despite the fact that Tina Burner, having lipsynced against her in E1, was well aware of this, Elliott was shut out of the choreography discussion by the other girls - who throughout the episode gave Elliott the cold shoulder & even, bizarrely accused her of being a spy! - for who, QAnon?? Elliott, not wanting to rock the boat, kept quiet, only to go on to NAIL her own performance with a jump split and impressive, confident verse, with dance elements throughout.

So naturally she wasn’t put in the top 2 for the episode, despite everything in the storyline pointing to the ONLY REASON you would separate the queens into winners and losers and then bring back a loser would be for a redemption (RuDemption?) arc. Nope!

The top 2 queens are of course...Olivia Lux, who to be fair, performed her socks off in the challenge and wisely wore an outfit that accentuated her movement, and...Symone. Again. Who wore this.

Whose verse consisted of a walk to the center of the stage and pretty poor lyrics and vocal (”the ebony enchantress...is me” is giving Mariah in all the worst ways). Who looked a little manic during the performance. But who - like Ru - is tall, slim, and statuesque. Anyone else getting S2/S3 flashbacks?

Off the bat let’s make something clear. I don’t dislike Symone. I think she’s a fierce queen, I think she definitely won the top 2 lipsync, I think she’s an excellent lipsync performer, and she has a great body and a great swagger as a drag queen. And I know she can do flips and acrobatics if it calls for it - look for yourself on youtube.

But I think favoritism drags the show down, and ESPECIALLY - as we saw in S12, too - when applied to queens like Symone who are ALREADY among the strongest of the group. Let’s face it, on skill alone, Symone is likely to pick up at least 3 wins of the 11 weeks of this contest. So why stack the deck by giving her an early 4th?

Olivia Lux, the other top 2 queen, performed decently in the lipsync, but was perhaps a bit literal with the lyrics. Her runway gown was highly praised by the judges, but for me was on the simpler side, although she definitely sold it with her walk and attitude. All other queens were given an equal Safe this week which... may or may not have been used to shield the worst performers overall this week, Gottmik and Kandy, who were unsure of themselves during the performance and made a few slips.

I’m ending this week as I ended the last one - wary, but hopeful. After such a focus on how entitled and unpleasant the Winners were in this episode, perhaps the next episode will cast the Losers in a more sympathetic light. My favorite and second-favorite queen, Tamisha, and Denali, are in that group, and I’m hoping to get good confessionals and meme-worthy moments from them if nothing else. And also, I’d hope that this team have bonded and will give a better performance as a group as a result. Although the threat to eliminate one of them next week given by Ru at the end of this one seems like insult to injury in terms of creating division.

Was S12 a fluke? Will S13 be another S11? Will I start genuinely liking any of this? Be here next week to find out~ xoxo

#romansrace #rpdr13 #shady reviews #rupauls drag race season 13 #rupauls drag race #drag race reviews #gottmik #olivia lux #elliott puckett #elliott with 2 ts #sassy reviews #2021 #rpdr 13

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rapeculturerealities · 4 years

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I moved to Los Angeles to become an actress at 24. These are character descriptions of roles I have read for: “thin, attractive, Dave’s wife”; “robot girl, a remarkable feat of engineering”; “her breasts are large and she’s wearing a red sweater.”

I stuffed my bra for that last one. I still did not get the part.

After a while it was hard to tell what was the greater source of my depression: that I could not book a part in a horror film where I had three lines and died on Page 4, or that I was even auditioning to play these roles at all. After dozens of auditions and zero callbacks, my mom suggested I get breast implants. From her perspective, I had walked away from a coveted job at Goldman Sachs and chosen a profession of self-commodification. She wanted to help me sell better.

But I wasn’t drawn to acting because I wanted to be desired. I was drawn to acting because I felt it would allow me to become the whole, embodied person I remembered being in childhood — one that could imagine freely, listen deeply and feel wholeheartedly.

I continued to audition and continued to fail. My depression deepened. My self-esteem plummeted. My boyfriend would get drunk and punch holes in the wall next to my head. I let him. He spat in my face. I let him. He dissolved into tears in my arms. I let him. And then I sifted through the ashes of his anger and his father’s anger before him to help him uncover the forgiveness he needed to move on. I was auditioning to be “Dave’s wife.” I was “robot girl, a remarkable feat of engineering.”

After a day of running from men with chain saws in audition rooms and a night of running from the man I shared a bed with, I decided I was done auditioning. I felt I had to write my way out of these roles or I wouldn’t find my way in the real world, either. I could not be what I could not see onscreen.

So I went to the library in downtown Los Angeles and started reading books and watching films about how to write dramas for the screen. I clung to Jodie Foster in Jonathan Demme’s “Silence of the Lambs,” to Holly Hunter in Jane Campion’s “The Piano.”

But aside from a handful of exceptions, I was overwhelmed by the number of dramatic narratives that murdered their female characters.

In “The Big Heat” she has a pot of boiling coffee thrown in her face and is then shot in the back. In “Chinatown” the bullet tears through her brain and out her eye. And in case this seems like a trend of the past, consider the more recent noir “Blade Runner 2049,” where the holographic femme fatale is deleted and the remaining women are stabbed, drowned and gutted like a fish.

Even the spirited Antigone, the brave Joan of Arc and the unfettered Thelma and Louise meet tragic ends in large part because they are spirited, brave and unfettered. They can defy kings, refuse beauty and defend themselves against violence. But it’s challenging for a writer to imagine a world in which such free women can exist without brutal consequences.

We live in a world that is a direct reflection of these stories we’ve been telling. Close to four women a day are murdered in America at the hands of their partners or former partners. One out of every four women in America has been the victim of a rape.

I am one of those one out of four. Our narratives tell us that women are objects and objects are disposable, so we are always objectified and often disposed of.

There are centuries of trial and error inside the “hero’s journey,” in which a young man is called to adventure, challenged by trials, faces a climactic battle and emerges victorious, changed and a hero. And while there are narrative patterns for the adventures of girls — “Alice in Wonderland,” “The Wizard of Oz” — those are few and far between, and for adult women, even less so.

Even when I found myself writing stories about women rebelling against the patriarchy, it still felt like what I largely ended up describing was the confines of patriarchy. The more fettered I felt inside the real world, the more I turned toward science fiction, speculative fiction and lo-fi fantasy.

I eventually co-wrote, produced and starred in two microbudget films, “Another Earth” and “Sound of My Voice.” Both stories left reality just far enough behind to give me the mental freedom to imagine female characters behaving in ways not often seen onscreen.

I emerged from the Sundance Film Festival with offers to act in projects I would never have been allowed to read for a week prior. Most of those roles were still girlfriend, mistress, mother. But there was a new character on offer to me as well, one that survived the story.

Enter, stage right: the Strong Female Lead.

She’s an assassin, a spy, a soldier, a superhero, a C.E.O. She can make a wound compress out of a maxi pad while on the lam. She’s got MacGyver’s resourcefulness but looks better in a tank top.

Acting the part of the Strong Female Lead changed both who I was and what I thought I was capable of. Training to do my own stunt work made me feel formidable and respected on set. Playing scenes where I was the boss firing men tasted like empowerment. And it will always feel better to be holding the gun in the scene than to be pleading for your life at the other end of the barrel.

It would be hard to deny that there is nutrition to be drawn from any narrative that gives women agency and voice in a world where they are most often without both. But the more I acted the Strong Female Lead, the more I became aware of the narrow specificity of the characters’ strengths — physical prowess, linear ambition, focused rationality. Masculine modalities of power.

I thought back to the films I watched and stories I read burrowed deep in the stacks of the library. I began to see something deeper and more insidious behind all those images of dead and dying women.

When we kill women in our stories, we aren’t just annihilating female gendered bodies. We are annihilating the feminine as a force wherever it resides — in women, in men, of the natural world. Because what we really mean when we say we want strong female leads is: “Give me a man but in the body of a woman I still want to see naked.”

It’s difficult for us to imagine femininity itself — empathy, vulnerability, listening — as strong. When I look at the world our stories have helped us envision and then erect, these are the very qualities that have been vanquished in favor of an overwrought masculinity.

I’ve played the Strong Female Lead in real life, too — as an analyst at an investment bank before coming to Hollywood. I wore suits, drank Scotch neat and talked about the women and the men I was sleeping with like commodities on an open market. I buried my feminine intelligence alive in order to survive. I excelled at my linear task of making more money from a lot of money regardless of the long-term consequences for others and the environment.

The lone female V.P. on my floor and my mentor at the time gave me the following advice when she left to partner at a hedge fund: Once a week, open the door to your office when they finally give you one, and place a phone call where you shout a string of expletives in a threatening voice.

She added that there doesn’t actually need to be someone on the other end of the line.

I don’t believe the feminine is sublime and the masculine is horrifying. I believe both are valuable, essential, powerful. But we have maligned one, venerated the other, and fallen into exaggerated performances of both that cause harm to all. How do we restore balance? Or how do we evolve beyond the limitations that binaries like feminine/masculine present in the first place?

In 2014 I went back to the library and encountered Octavia Butler’s “Parable of the Sower,” a sci-fi novel written in 1993 imagining a 2020 where society has largely collapsed from climate change and growing wealth inequality. Butler’s heroine, the 17 year-old Lauren, has “hyperempathy” — she feels, quite literally, other people’s pain. This feminine gift and curse uniquely prepares her to survive the violent attack on her community in Los Angeles and successfully encourage a small tribe north to begin again from seeds she has saved from her family’s garden.

Butler felt to me like a lighthouse blinking from an island of understanding way out at sea. I had no idea how to get there, but I knew she had found something life saving. She had found a form of resistance.

Butler and other writers like Ursula Le Guin, Toni Morrison and Margaret Atwood did not employ speculative fiction to colonize other planets, enslave new life-forms, or extract alien minerals for capital gains only to have them taken at gunpoint by A.I. robots. These women used the tenets of genre to reveal the injustices of the present and imagine our evolution.

With these ideas in mind, Zal Batmanglij and I wrote and created “The OA,” a Netflix series about Prairie, a blind girl who is kidnapped and returns seven years later to the community she grew up in with her sight restored. She opens up to a group of lost teenage boys in her neighborhood, telling them about her captivity and the inter-dimensional travel she discovered to survive it. It turns out these boys need to hear Prairie’s story as much as she needs to tell it. For the boys face their own kind of captivity: growing up inside the increasingly toxic obligations of American manhood.

As time has passed, I’ve come to understand what deep influence shaping a narrative has. Stories inspire our actions. They frame for us existences that are and are not possible, delineate tracks we can or cannot travel. They choose who we can find empathy for and who we cannot. What we have fellow feeling for, we protect. What we objectify and commodify, we eventually destroy.

I don’t want to be the dead girl, or Dave’s wife. But I don’t want to be a strong female lead either, if my power is defined largely by violence and domination, conquest and colonization.

Sometimes I get a feeling of what she could be like. A truly free woman. But when I try to fit her into the hero’s journey she recedes from the picture like a mirage. She says to me: Brit, the hero’s journey is centuries of narrative precedent written by men to mythologize men. Its pattern is inciting incident, rising tension, explosive climax and denouement. What does that remind you of?

And I say, a male orgasm.

And she says: Correct. I love the arc of male pleasure. But how could you bring me into being if I must satisfy the choreography of his desire only?

And I say: Good on you. But then how do I bring you into being?

Then I hear only silence.

But even in the silence I dream of answers. I imagine new structures and mythologies born from the choreography of female bodies, non-gendered bodies, bodies of color, disabled bodies. I imagine excavating my own desires, wants and needs, which I have buried so deeply to meet the desires, wants and needs of men around me that I’m not yet sure how my own desire would power the protagonist of a narrative.

These are not yet solutions. But they are places to dig.

Excavating, teaching and celebrating the feminine through stories is, inside our climate emergency, a matter of human survival. The moment we start imagining a new world and sharing it with one another through story is the moment that new world may actually come.

#sexism #misogyny #entertainment #workplace #strong female leads #voices

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higuchimon · 4 years

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[fanfic] What’s In A Name: Chapter 4

Ken’s heart leaped. “It can…?” His fingers shivered as he stared down at the Crest. Then his eyes jerked upward and he stared at the spread of eggs before him. Was one of those – he couldn’t fully wrap his head around it, but he wanted it to be true so very much.

“I believe it can. Crests and their Chosen and partners are all tied together.” Leomon stared down at him. At least Ken thought he did. He was too busy trying to find what could be Wormmon’s egg.

Yuramon jumped up and down, glaring hard at Ken. “Make him go away, Leomon! He doesn’t deserve to be a Chosen! He doesn’t deserve Wormmon!”

“Of course I don’t!” Ken sputtered. “No one could be good enough for Wormmon. Everything I did – everything I didn’t do that I should have – and he still tried his best to help me, and all I did was yell at him and hit him! And he still tried to help to the very end.”

Tears seared down his cheeks yet again. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever strop crying. Every tear flowed from some deep inner part of himself – that vast emptiness that he had no name for – and it had no bottom to it.

“Why do you want to find him?” Leomon asked. Ken sniffled and dragged his arm over his eyes, still searching for one egg. How would he even know which of them could be Wormmon’s? They were all different, but how?

“Because I was wrong. Because he was right. And I want to tell him that.” Ken dragged in a breath. “I want to be who he wanted me to be.”

The Crest of Kindness began to shimmer. Ken stared down at it, then again searched the eggs. Slowly he took a few steps forward and Leomon allowed it. Yuramon kept on grumbling, but that didn’t mean anything to Ken. He clung harder to the memories that stirred deep within him.

Wormmon died to show him the truth. Wormmon believed in him, no matter what. He’d gone along with what Ken did as the Kaiser just in the barest hopes that Ken would one day realize his errors.

I won’t forget again, Wormmon, he promised. I’ll do what I can to make up for what I’ve done. I’ll never fall again, I swear.

The Crest’s glow grew stronger with every breath and from up ahead there came a matching glow. Ken stumbled towards it, vaguely aware of Leomon following, more by the sense of his presence than by the non-existent sounds of his paws. What Leomon wanted, Ken wasn’t sure. But he knew what he wanted, and he all but collapsed next to an egg that glowed the same shade of pink as the Crest in his hands.

If dying is the only way I can make up for what I did, I’d be glad to do it. But if I died, Wormmon would miss me. I think he’s the only one who really would. But would dying – would it really help? It probably wouldn’t. Dying meant an end – it would be what he deserved, but it wouldn’t be good enough.

Only one thing held a chance to be good enough – to live and fight to fix the damage that he’d done. He alone knew all of it, and he wasn’t even sure if he’d remembered it all. Most of it was a blue of rage and destruction that once seethed in his veins.

Ken rested a hand on the glowing egg. “Wormmon?” He murmured softly, and the egg, covered in hearts, twitched under his touch. Then there was a pop and the egg itself vanished, turning into a tiny cradle. Set in the middle of the cradle was a strange, small green creature, a bit of green with a sort of leaf curled over it’s head. “Wormmon??”

“Ken-chan,” a soft, sweet voice spoke, and again those tears spilled. It was and wasn’t Wormmon’s voice. “It’s me, Leafmon. I’m Wormmon’s baby form.”

Oh. He thought he remembered someone having mentioned how Digimon grew – from eggs into babies and eventually to Adults and Perfects. So this would become Wormmon again one day. He held out his arms and Leafmon leaped towards him at once.

“I’m so sorry,” he wept, cuddling the little creature. “You were right and I was wrong all this time. It was all real – and I was such an idiot. I promise, I won’t ever do that again.” He’d already told himself that, but saying it to Leafmon made it feel more real, as if he’d taken a vow of some kind.

He had, he decided. He vowed this and nothing would make him break it.

Leafmon purred against him. “I know you won’t, Ken-chan.” Oh, he’d heard that before and he’d never thought he would hear it again.

Then Wormmon looked past him to where Leomon stood and his eyes grew wider and rounded. “You’re big!”

Leomon chuckled softly as he reached down to rest one hand on Leafmon’s head. Ken gulped; Leomon’s hand covered Leafmon to the point he couldn’t even see his partner now.

“Welcome back, Leafmon,” Leomon rumbled. Then he glanced at Ken again. “You wish to atone for your wrongdoings?”

Ken lowered his head. “More than anything.” He would have gone back in time to stop himself from ever being the Kaiser in the first place if he could. With that not a possibility – well, he’d do what he could.

He swallowed. “Is there anything that I can do?” He had ideas. The spires had to come down. He wasn’t sure if all of the captive Digimon had been freed or not. They probably wouldn’t obey him anymore but some of them might still have Rings or Spirals on. And – and there were a few Digimon he’d never needed to enslave, because they wanted to work for whoever the ruler of the Digital World was.

Assuming they didn’t want to be the ruler themselves.

“A great deal. You are not the only person to have made mistakes. Don’t ever underestimate your own ability to fix what you’ve done wrong.” Leomon offered a warm chuckle. “I could introduce you to someone who made mistakes of his own and has done his best to recover. Though if you asked him, he hasn’t changed at all. But he has. A great deal.”

“Ogremon's the best!” Half a dozen babies babbled. “He’s big and strong and amazing and he brings us food!”

“He also hasn’t yet learned proper hygiene,” Leomon muttered. Then he smiled. “But I think meeting him can be for another day.”

Ken couldn’t deny a bit of interest. But with Leafmon in his arms, he was more than a little aware of how exhausted he really was. Not the draining sleep of before as he tried to put himself back together, but a bone-deep exhaustion from all the emotions he’d run through in the last – how long had he been there? He needed to go home. His parents were going to be worried about him.

For the first time in he couldn't actually remember when, that mattered to him. He’d not cared about them being worried for years. He’d not cared to the point he’d simply left that world entirely in order to not deal with them.

And – he was hungry. Very hungry.

“Come on, Leafmon,” he murmured. “Leomon’s right. We need to go home.”

To Be Continued

Notes: Oh, look, we’re half done!

#Fanfic.#higuchimon writes #digimon adventure 02 #ichijouji ken #wormmon #chapters: what's in a name

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thesims4blogger · 4 years

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The Sims 4 on Xbox & PlayStation 4: New Game Patch (February 4th, 2020)

There’s a Sims 4 update available for players on Xbox One and PlayStation 4.

Update: 02/04/2020 – V1.22

The Sims is another year older and here we are with a big update full of new content and fixes. As if the Gallery in the last update wasn’t big enough on its own. As there is so much to go through, lets dig straight in…

What’s New? The Child Statue makes its grand appearance across consoles

The Music The following music has been added to the alternative station:

“Nicknames” Performed by Dayglow Written by Sloan Struble Copyright Control Recording courtesy of AWAL Digital Ltd.

“4am” Performed by girl in red Written by Marie Ulven Copyright Control Recording courtesy of AWAL Recordings

“prom dress” Performed by mxmtoon Produced by Robin Skinner & mxmtoon Written by Maia M-T Published by Songtrust Music Publishing Recording courtesy of mxmtoon LLC under exclusive license to House Arrest/The Orchard By Arrangement with Bank Robber Music

“Win You Over” Performed by Whethan & Bearson feat. SOAK Written by Ethan Snoreck, Jakob Bjørn Hansen, Birdie Monds-Watson, Anthony Whiting and Emily Phillips Published by Whethan Publishing/These Are Pulse Songs (BMI) c/o Pulse Publishing Administration, Next Wave Music Publishing, Universal – PolyGram Int. Tunes, Inc. on behalf of Universal Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Corp. on behalf of itself and PW Arrangements, and Domino Publishing Company USA (ASCAP) Whethan appears courtesy of Atlantic Recording Corp. SOAK appears courtesy of Rough Trade Records Recording courtesy of Ultra Records LLC

General Issues

Fixed an issue where Nice or High Quality harvestables would disappear from Sims’ inventories after Travel or Save/Load.

Fixed an issue where Freelancer Career tasks would not complete after Sims would Travel.

Fixed an issue in which the game would jump to Ultra Speed randomly when some Service NPC, specifically Maids, were on the Lot. Talk about speed cleaning!

Photo frames used within Gallery Uploads would not retain their chosen color once those lots were downloaded from The Gallery. They’ve been properly chastised and will listen to you now.

Freelancer gigs can now complete and/or update accordingly while on Vacation. So if you want to work while you vacay I guess you can now. Sucker.

Fixed an issue where two “Tuck In” interactions were able to be selected when Children slept on any bed.

Sims that were seated at a 6 seat round table can now clean up the dishes.

Child Sims will now be able to enjoy Quick Meals again!

Fixed an issue where Sims didn’t write a genre book when “Write Genre Book” was selected.

Multiple duplicate interactions should no longer appear in pie menus when you have certain objects in your inventory.

The Jet Set Luxury Bath was listed as being Unbreakable when but Sims took that as a challenge and broke it. It has been recalled and fixed so now it truly is unbreakable.

Speaking of Unbreakable, we fixed an issue with Hot Tubs and Stereos where unbreakable upgrades would not work if these objects were in use when upgrading them.

Fixed an issue in which some Sims could stand on, or walk through solid objects.

Adding a Sim to an existing household via the Create a Sim Stories feature will no longer subtract Simoleons from the household.

You can now extinguish a fire, even if the fire is within another object.

Sims can now Scrap the unfinished paintings of visiting Sims

Light intensity will no longer reset when setting Auto Lights options

Fixed an issue which made the item Tiny Globe & Sycee of the Prosperous Moon appear twice in Build Mode

Half Wall Trim can now be applied to half walls on all levels of your lot

Fixed an issue that caused Lots downloaded from The Gallery to be placed backwards and not being able to rotate them to an appropriate view

Households downloaded from The Gallery should now have their starting funds set to the correct amount, and not just the base 20,000 Simoleons

Child Sims will no longer receive Whims related to workouts

Walls no longer disappear when Taking a Photo in a Basement level room that does not have a staircase

Fixed an issue in which Hygiene was not being resolved when Taking a Shower on any Bathtub and Shower Combo

Bookshelves will no longer have the option to purchase University books if you do not own Discover University

Sims will no longer flicker on and off the landing pad, when in the Rocket Ship using the WooHoo or Try for Baby interactions

Sims in the Supreme Villain career working on the mischief interaction task can now use the Slablet to Troll the Forums to complete the task

Small rugs can no longer be placed over the cutouts created by stairs

Caterer Sims will now be able to make a Cake and complete their Party event goals

Some example interactions that were reported: “Play Fetch”, ”Give Potion”, “Blackmail”, “Scan Here”. The LastException related to this issue should also be fixed.

Still not sure a stereo and hot tub are the best combo from a safety perspective

Specifically Baby Bassinets…

This could occur if a large object caught fire. You would have to wait until the fire spread outside the bounds of the large object in order to extinguish it.

Artistic types can be so rude, just leaving their unfinished work for you to clear up

Get Together

Toddlers will now route appropriately when selecting ‘Plan Outfit’ on Closets. Well, as appropriately as those slow little Sims move anyway

Get To Work

Aliens will now display selected options for Eyebrows and Beards accurately in Create A Sim.

Fixed an issue where Scientist Sims would record their findings in Notebooks twice.

We addressed an issue that could prevent Sims from not being able to ring up customers who attempt to purchase from the warming rack.

Some boots, along with the Sims feet, were disappearing when the camera was zoomed all the way out. This should no longer occur.

The “Refer for Surgical Treatment” interaction is now available on surgery tables that have had their color altered with the bb.enablefreebuild cheat.

Oh wait, now I see where they picked up that habit.

City Living

There were a number of confusing situations that arose as a result of Invites your Sims would receive. In some cases these would appear as two invites for the same event, one that was the “hey, I just wanted you to know” invite, and the other would be the real invite.

Sims with the Shrewd reward trait weren’t as shrewd as they thought they were. We have restored their shrewd’ness and they should now actually receive the money they so rightfully shrewded away at the end of each week.

Fixed an issue in which some shirts in Create A Sim would not tuck in appropriately into skinny jeans.

Some Sims just want you to know that their invite was coming by sending a pre-invite I guess.

We blame it on bad investments, the cd market apparently didn’t mean compact discs.

Seasons

Sims can now complete New Year resolutions on any lot, and not just their home lots.

The Lottery Holiday is back in your calendars! It should not be a surprise disappearing act any longer.

Solved an issue with swimwear that made it display incorrectly and no one wants a swimsuit malfunction!

We spoke to the Holiday Gnomes and they have agreed to stop dropping seed packets if your Sims are not on Lot when the Holiday ends.

Fixed an issue where Weather would affect items inside buildings.

Flower Bunny’s contract has been renewed for them to appear on any Holiday or Tradition that they are scheduled to.

Mandrake and Valerian Root plants are now able to be planted indoors when it is Too Cold if Simmers have Realm of Magic installed.

Holiday Gnomes will no longer break Unbreakable objects when having a negative relationship with them.

The pedestal gnome will no longer spawn as part of the Harvestfest gnomes tradition.

They wanted to spread holiday cheer… or they were attempting to bring about the end of Simanity, and usher in a new world order. Tomayto, tomahto.

We don’t know what was done to make them angry, but even as magical as they are, they should not be breaking the Unbreakable.

Get Famous

Married Celebrity Sim Couples will no longer React in Disgust with each other then they enter the same room.

Household members will no longer react to members with Pristine Reputation every time they travel together.

Fixed an issue that caused Recording a Product Review to fail if the Sim had previously interrupted a review by traveling to another Lot.

The Well Suited and G.R.A.N. talent agencies are back in business! Gigs from these agencies will now display appropriately.

Super Speed 3 should now work when Sims sleep in their Sleeping Pods and have a pet.

Actor Sims can now Check Open Auditions properly when returning from Work. Get that bread! Be a starving artist no more!

Sims’ Acting Gigs Career Panel will now get updated properly on performing tasks. Credit for your work? Imagine that!

They are just B-list celebrities though, can you blame them?

Island Living

Fixed an issue where Odd Jobs tasks were not able to be completed.

Fixed an issue where Conch Shells were not able to be put in Sims’ Inventories.

Sims can now see their recorded findings in the Notification Wall when performing “Examine Water Thoughtfully” on the Fishing Board.

Released Fish will actually be released back into the water and not be stored in Sims’ Inventory.

Discover University

Sims will no longer be accused of cheating on their coursework or homework if they don’t actually cheat.

Term Presentations should not have missing interactions any longer

We addressed some feedback that getting A’s was too easy. Please be aware that your Sim will have to complete the coursework in order to consistently get good grades

Students will no longer autonomously taunt each other about University Superiority unless they’re at the Game Day organization event or have one of these traits: Childish, Evil, Hot-Headed, and Bro

Please be aware that a Sim’s hunger, energy, and bladder motives will no longer refill on their own just before class

Fixed an issue in which Enhancing Utility Bots would get cancelled inappropriately

Roommates should no longer Bring Food home every time they return

Sims can now Turn Off Computer Glasses when moving to other neighborhoods

Sims that complete the debate showdown, will once again be able to change into their other outfits

Term Papers will now always count toward the course’s final grades

Fixed an issue where the following Build Mode items were not able to be placed on the LearnWell Desk: Lex Light By Dex Pix, Q-Bik Tabletop Mood Light, and Great Gramps’ Light can now be placed properly

Fixed an issue where “The Secret Society Masks” were not being unlocked in Create A Sim

The shower wall will no longer turn on when a Sim attempts to repair it

Active Sims should no longer get the “Not Enough Exercise” tense buff if they have enrolled in the Soccer Fútbol after school activity, or choose to juggle a soccer fútbol ball

Sims must now meet all of the promotion requirements in order to be promoted in the Education Career

Attempting to interact with a bike rider should no longer cause your Sim to route fail when performing the interaction

The Make Offering to Sprites interaction should no longer be unavailable if you only have harvestables in your inventory

Reaching level 5 of the Law Career now correctly unlocks the lawyer suits for your Sim in Create a Sim

Bots enhanced to level 3 will no longer automatically enhance to level 4 upon activation

Interacting with a Sim riding a bike will no longer cause the Sim, your Sim, the bike, parts of the world, or any other potential object or thing to disappear

Inviting your professor to hangout will now actually have the professor arrive to hangout

Servo can now complete the StrangerVille story

Servo Fun and Social motive descriptions no longer incorrectly refer to Servo as a Sim

Bicycles can now be searched for in Build Mode by using the term “bike”

ExoMech suit can be worn by teen Sims, and are visible too

Sims already wearing a helmet, will no longer change into another helmet to ride a bike

Sims in the same household will now automatically know the others degree program

Sims will no longer receive multiple signing bonuses from degree relevant careers. Only one signing bonus is awarded in any seven day period

Woohoo in Shower will no longer give fame

“Chat About Scandalous Lawsuit” now provides fun

Choosing to cancel the Practice Presentation interaction will now cancel the interaction

Servos can no longer get sick

Servos can no longer purchase the Seldom Sleepy reward trait

Sims on probation can now be asked to study with

Sims should no longer route fail when attempting to take a Pregnancy test in a bathroom stall

Asking the Repo Person to not take your stuff will now provide you a Text Notification as to whether or not you had an impact on the Repo Person’s decision

Sprites no longer appear around the Sim after the buff expires after leaving the Secret Society

Sims will no longer see the option to remove Robo Arm when choosing to remove Computer Glasses

Fixed an issue in which the option to Pay Student Loans was available even though students had enough Simoleons to cover their Tuition

Sims can now be warned about losing scholarships if they choose to withdraw from the term

Some lots were unloadable in Britechester and made the game unresponsive. That should no longer be the case

Although I wouldn’t turn it down if they did

Outdoor Retreat

Sims can now roast at a campfire without needing a seating object nearby

A visual issue was resolved where highlighting the Granite Falls Blossom would result in a strange texture for Simmers who had StrangerVille installed.

Spa Day

Fixed an issue where Sims did not have the option to “Take Bath with Soaks” and “Take Mud Bath” on Showertubs.

Sims can now again get massages autonomously at Spas.

Dine Out

NPC Sims will now eat more at Restaurants.

Photos taken of Experimental Foods will now display correctly when put into frames.

Food was sometimes not able to be ordered or delivered when the game was exited or reloaded from the Main Menu.

Vampires

“Influence Emotions” interaction will no longer be available to Vampires that have not yet unlocked this perk

Jungle Adventure

Several objects were not properly being found when using color filters. These should be filterable now

StrangerVille

StrangerVille music has been added to the Lin-Z Smart Speaker

Realm of Magic

Two ‘Inferniate’ interactions display on some rugs. As much as some hate those rugs’ patterns, only one ‘Inferniate’ is more than enough

Fixed an issue where Occult eyes would not properly apply to Spellcasters

Unplayed NPCs not living in Glimmerbrook will no longer appear in Glimmerbrook performing Magic

“Challenge to Magic Duel at Dueling Grounds” performed by a broom and non-broom using duelist will now take place at the dueling grounds

Spellcasters with the “Knowledge is Magic” Perk will now be able to complete the “Finish Reading 3 Books” aspiration goal

Fixed an issue where some Spellcasters would not complete the “Learn a Spell” goal, even though they would learn a Spell

Spellcasters will now be able to Do Laundry while having “Always Transportalate” enabled

Fixed an issue in which Pet Familiars would not stop foraging, never bringing back their findings.

Sages now can be chosen to Play With for a game of Chess

Random non Spellcaster Sims no longer will show up as being Sages

Fixed an issue in which Cauldron made food was not able to be eaten as leftovers when looking at the refrigerator

Sims on cursed lots will no longer always catch fire in all attempts while using the Fireplace or the Stove

Fixed an issue in which sounds from The Magic Realm could be heard in Del Sol Valley if you had Get Famous installed

Fixed an issue in which some shirts in Create A Sim would not tuck in appropriately

Spellcaster Sims can now clean potty messes, child messes, and kitty litter messes by casting Scruberoo

Spellcasters will no longer have duplicate makeup options in CAS

Spellcasters should no longer land in unroutable locations when using the “Always Use Brooms” spell

Spellcasters that cast Mischief Spells will now get awarded Mischief Skill when doing so

Male spellcasters will no longer have a chance of going bald after performing Rite of Dissolution

yfHair_GP08Braids now properly appears within the Afro-Textured texture filter

Mischief spells are now counted towards the Criminal Career daily task Mischief Interaction

Spellcasters with the Spellcraft and Sorcery aspiration will no longer reset or cause a LastException after writing songs

Perfect Patio

We fixed an issue where hired Maids would often change into Swimwear and use the Hot Tub instead of completing their tasks.

It can be so difficult to find good help these days

Romantic Garden

Sims in the Freelance careers, including freelance photography, will no longer be able to Wish for Promotion using the Wishing Well

Sims in Conservationist, Educator, Actor, Style Influencer, Military, Critic, Social Media, or Politician careers will now be able to Wish for a Promotion using the Wishing Well.

Since they are freelance, they can promote themselves without wishing for it. They just need to update their business card.

Backyard

Fixed an issue in which some shirts in Create A Sim would not tuck in appropriately into skinny jeans

Vintage Glamour

Addressed several issues that caused the Butler to fail to perform their assigned tasks

Fixed an issue that prevented Butlers to help put Toddler Sims to Bed

The Butler should no longer make food for themselves when they are not hungry

Laundry Day

Clothes moved to the clothing line to dry were not getting dry. We’ve reduced the moisture in the air and it should work now

Moschino

Emotional auras in photographs can now be toggled on/off

Fixed an issue where some photos were taken were a bit blurry when placed in frames in Live Mode

Tripods placed on floors other than 1, 2, or 3, should no longer cause the camera to change floors when attempting to take a photo

Ask to Pose interaction should no longer fail if the Sim attempts to run the interaction from the Open Street

yfHair_SP15SlickedBackLong was displaying with a grey line.

“Take Photo Of” was allowed to target unmet NPC Sims. Creepy and awkward for sure. Go meet them first for goodness sake like a normal Sim

Freelance Photographer Sims can now see all proper tasks for gigs ‘Genius Professor Outdoor Wear Study’ and ‘Everyday Activities Fashion Shoot.’

Freelance Fashion Photography Gigs ‘Finding the Essence of Efficiency with Everyday Style’ and ‘Fantastic Formula for Formal Style’ now display the correct information for Pay, Due Date, and/or Required Skill Level.

The Amp Stack now functions as a Stereo, living to its full potential. Rock on!

Burnt photos would not be charred anymore once placed outside Sims’ inventory.

Now, where should I put this super deluxe king-sized bed in this Tiny Living lot I built?

– SimGuruLegacy

#news #ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #xbox one #playstation 4 #console

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juleswolverton-hyde · 5 years

Text

Word by Word | 02

Genre: Fluff, Romance, University/College AU

Pairing: Graphic design student!Bangchan x Literature student!/Irish!Reader

Warnings: Swearing (but what can you honestly expect when dealing with an Irish person?)

Summary: An ancient saying dictates that polar opposites attract, which is proven once again once an introverted whiskey-loving aspiring author meets a fairly extroverted boy initially proposing to survive the loneliness brought about by academic administration together.

But soon the meaning of ‘together’ expands as personal creative worlds are explored and understanding stirs up hidden emotions.

Masterlist

Previous part / Next Part

In life, nothing goes according to plan for Fate is cruel and God is dead. There is no other explanation for the amalgamation of desperately ironical chaos which follows in the wake of the checked-in transport card going to the steady place by the window all the way in the back of the bus while blasting music. To be more precise, it comes in the form of bleached locks also lost in songs, cruel enough due to the circumstances to unapologetically settle down on the empty seat that cannot be occupied fast enough by throwing the habitual laptop bag onto it.

Oh, for feck’s sake. Alright, lass, just keep calm and read yer book. Just don’t look and... fuck, he’s looking. Calm down and fake ignorance!

Out of the corner of the eyes, a glint is beheld of jasper eyes staring interestedly at the cover of the current read, clearly trying to make out the title partially obscured by cramped with timid fingers while every thought is overrun by the scent of the widespread ocean lapping at the shore mixed with a light hint of coconut. However, impossible as it might seem, a steady yet vague focus is kept on the letters shaping the memoir of a bookseller and good faith is put in the general universally acknowledged fact that earbuds in is equal to the meaning of “leave me alone”.

Though some, like the fairly unwelcome stranger, never grasp this simple meaning.

‘Good book?’ AirPods are taken out in favour of understanding while patiently awaiting a response, continuing to gaze at a rapidly becoming distracted soul heavily debating whether or not to reply.

‘Sorry, what?’ Despite still sounding annoyed, the level of irritation is considerably lower than when speaking to another person asking the same thing and that is quite a curious occurrence for strangers are kept at bay at all costs and by any necessary means such as music.

Songs which are weirdly put to rest without hesitation.

At seeing uncomprehending brows knit together, fortunately failing to see a part of the confusion is also turned inward at a fluttering heart and discombobulated thoughts, platinum strands elaborate on the initial inquiry. A long finger rises and points at the cover of the novel in a manner that should not be deemed as cute yet is. ‘The book. Is it any good?’

Neither should speech come as difficult as it does, stuttering normally entirely out of the question as well as the want to expand on the curt reply. ‘Uhm, y- yeah. It is.’

The response evokes a bubbly giggle which miraculously turns up the temperature in the vehicle on its way to the university, surely painting cheeks with a roseate flush. Judging by the mesmerized sparkling irises staring back in unwavering contact, they do. ‘That’s not a whole lot to go on. What’s it about?’

How can I act like this? Get yersel’ together, Y/N, and act as you would during an event. Be a cold professional.

A splendid plan that is always immediately resorted to in similar situations because it offers a sufficient amount of social protection. Moreover, it nullifies any further advances pursuing the conversation as it employs the harshest coldness of politeness.

That is the case under normal circumstances.

But not now.

Now there is nothing but an oddly enchanted girl stammering while explaining the premise and cause of the diary written by a Scottish bookseller, gradually becoming more and more flustered with every word that flows from lips eager to engage. In the meanwhile, focus is kept steadily on the friendly handsome face intently listening with genuine interest, clearly doing so in delight.

‘So, uhm, tha- that’s the p- pre- premise.’

‘Huh, sounds interesting. Maybe I should read it.’

‘You should!’ The suggestion ignited a giddiness preserved for private moments with Grandfather, particularly on whiskey nights when books are the sole other companions in whose company to rejoice. ‘I- I mean, if y- ye want to. You ob- obvi- obviously don’t have to.’

‘I mean it, I’ll check it out. Wait, I haven’t even properly introduced myself. Hi, I’m Chris. Or Chan or Bangchan. Whatever you prefer.’ The last bit is added shyly, a careful smile ghosting over pale pink lips while a trustworthy veined hand reaches out.

And is taken for a strong handshake that clearly surprises the lad. ‘Y/N.’

‘That’s a firm hand.’ Both barely suppressing a gasp for different reasons, gripping digits swiftly unravel. Personally, it is because of a sense of being attacked on a womanly front while never having been bothered by it, only endeavouring to act entirely ladylike on important occasions. Until someone cannot shut their gob properly. In case of the lad smelling like a beach day, a grimace as if mourning the loss of contact flashes over the composed expression trying to look merely surprised yet fails in doing so. ‘Which is good, because it signifies a strong character.’

Distant remorse laces the elaboration on the original response, jasper eyes averting from a panicked face to the novel put down. Picking up on this, bookish fingertips rapidly retracted to a denim lap graced with the sarcastic memoir creep ever so slightly towards the edge of thighs to feel the warmth of ones still formed as if they were enveloping those that ran away.

But stop and flee once more.

Falsely calm.

Acting.

Though they are not doing so in the desire to get to know the boy showing sincere interest in a cold professionally introverted and, above all, unlovable girl.

‘Whe- Where are y- ye from?’ To keep the exchange going, a natural question follows from what has been quietly observed from speech.

‘Hm?’ Eyes wide, the brooding grim mood fades from chiselled features and morphs into curiosity due to incomprehension with a tilted head.

‘Yer ac- accent. You’re not from a- around here.’

‘No, I’m from Australia. I moved here recently to study.’ A playful grin promises that the same observation pertaining to the manner of speaking has been made as well, counterattacking the question by means of a proposing comment. ‘But you have an accent as well.’

‘I’m actually from around here, but thanks to Charles I got the good ol’ Irish accent.’ Composure has been regained entirely, mostly thanks to the fact the matter comes up frequently whenever accompanying Charlie to foreign publishing events where everyone always seems surprised to hear from the north.

‘Charles?’

‘My grandfather. He’s the one who raised me.’ Nothing is said about the family name out of a conscious disdain to be associated with a great author instead of being seen as an original person and novice writer. Although, mayhaps it is more of an unconscious endeavour since the thought of even mentioning a surname does not comes up.

‘What about your parents?’

‘I’d rather not talk about them, Chris.’ A brief look out the window shows the long line of variously branded cars in front of a steady red light letting solely up to three pass before halting the ever-growing queue, every driver showing impatience in a fashion as diverse as the range of names on the trunks. Next to the bus is a jet black Volkswagen Polo, a father driving while the mother and lone daughter are chattering away.

That could’ve been me. If only life had been different. If only I wasn’t a bastard.

‘Sorry, I didn’t know it’s a sensitive topic.’ The remorse is more prominent in display than awareness thinks to let filter through to the world, curly platinum strands leaning in apologetically despite not being at fault when reverting attention to Chan.

‘You couldn’t have known, so it’s fine.’ Regardless of sounding as if nothing is wrong, the deeply-rooted pain of being raised in a good yet different life with a father figure rather than an actual parent nevertheless colours the used tone.

Withal, and fortunately fluidly, the subject changes to something casual creating a grander sense of comfort. ‘You said you came here to study?’

To forget what could have been.

Lips part as if to protest but change their mind at the last second, going with the flow and thusly leaving the previous topic behind. ‘Yeah, I did. I’m studying graphic design, but added a literary course to my curriculum this last part of the semester. Unfortunately, all my friends have either chosen a different course or are doing a whole other study.’

‘Then you and I are on the same boat.’ Unintentionally, there is a question of teaming up through the absence of familiar faces placed in other workgroups if present at all. And it is weird it is there at all since loneliness is nothing new and actually bearable, though a little bit more when being in the company of a nice character.

‘Wanna stick together and try to survive?’

Had another person been asked this, no doubt the chance to have a familiar face for support would be taken advantage of. However, it is not so in the case of a bastard who is apparently in the way. Easy to discard, as has been made evidently clear by the monsters that should have raised her instead of the other glorious bastard under a swearing whiskey roof shared with two cats from Inferno.

Trustworthy in action, honest in words, true in sincerity of company.

Just like the aura of the newly met fellow student looking like a puppy anticipating a consenting reply, excitedly wagging an imaginary tail but trying to suppress any signs of enthusiasm under a veil of patience. Still, the gloss over cheerful eyes and pursed lips indicate hoping for the best, despairing when being denied. Henceforth, while the persuasion of attitude comes second in the factors of changing minds, the proposal is accepted gladly with the brightest contained smile that has been given to someone in a long period of time, honest in meaning. ‘I’d like that.’

‘You don’t have to.’ Despite agreeing to the plan, understanding disappointment rings in the taken on tone of speech, Bangchan pulling away barely noticeably yet introducing a familiar abyss that makes the heart sink to the deepest depth it knows.

‘What makes you say that?’ Maintaining the facade of ignorance to hide the unintentional sensitive pain, the face of a summer beach day is carefully analyzed in the hopes of finding an explanation for what has been done wrong.

Why the truth cannot be seen when it has risen from beneath the rose.

‘You seem reluctant.’ The fingers held earlier in a friendly handshake dig their nails in the fabric of the seats to hide the sadness thanks to suspected denial.

But, just this once, there is a wholehearted agreement.

An exception.

For him.

Notwithstanding, the mirage of happiness fades after being built so carefully, flowing down the melancholic stream of the consciousness forever stuck in its grasp with a lowering voice and averted focus. ‘It... it’s a bad habit. A likely wrong thinking pattern.’

‘I don’t understand. What are you thinking?’ Brows knit as the Australian boy stares on in wonder, in need of an explanation to lift the mystery of the cryptic response. In fact, the weird urgency in the inquiry hints towards honestly pondering what makes a mere stranger sympathize with Atlas.

A train of thought which is disregarded by a self-mocking comment of no importance, somberly mumbled with a shake of the head. ‘Nothing. You’ll think me a drama queen.’

Because everyone who knows the truth has judged its teller as such.

An attention seeker.

But why then is she alone?

Dismissed?

But not by Chris, in whose nice to listen to voice has slipped in strong determination underlined with personally deemed misplaced worry. However, perhaps if it is truly so, it would not be evident in the overall distressed attitude sitting on the next seat. ‘No, Y/N, I won’t. I want to know and we’ve still got a ways to go before we’re at the university anyway. Please, tell me about what’s weighing you down.’

We.

Us.

Two.

Of us.

A pleasant notice that is nullified by the knowledge of the inevitable walking away because this lie has been heard one too many times by the grandsons and sons of famed writers who are in contact with Charlie. ‘You’ll discover soon enough, Chan.’

A moment of silence passes, gazes averted and one steadily kept on the memoir of a bookseller with the need to escape and wander alone again. Dwell in familiar solitude and curl up inside it.

Running away is always easier with music. Henceforth, digits already reach towards Airpods and phone.

But are halted by slender fingers wrapping around the forearm, asking for attention with a light squeeze followed by a soft-spoken call. ‘Y/N?’ Kind happiness timidly filters through in the visage of the chatty lad when looking up again, cheerfulness forming a proposal. ‘Shall we first get some coffee after we arrive and walk to the classroom together?’

Curiously, the emphasis on the concept of together remains, thus also continuing to stress the overall paradoxical importance of the word which only enhances the wonder about why contact would want to be had at all.

Why me? Why “us”? Why “we”?

As if reading the train of thought, Chan voices the answer to the unspoken rampant inquiries. ‘Because everyone deserves to have at least someone for support.’ Teeth bite down on the lower lip, the corners of the mouth wanting to curl up but hesitating to do so. ‘And... I want to see you smile again.’

‘My smile’s fecking horrible.’

Don’t go effing and blinding. So much for that.

They shape themselves into a warm smile regardless, an adoring sentiment that filters through into sincere speech. ‘No, it’s not. Happiness looks good on you.’

The heart flutters at hearing the warmth and unknowing how to deal with the show of affection towards a mere stranger, the book which had been put to rest for a wee bit is picked up again to hide the likely very carmine flush dusting over heated cheeks. Adorable laughter sounds from behind the safe protective walls of pages, the sound enhancing the furious blush following what was surely wrongly heard but which was interpreted as a muttered under the breath “cute”. However, eyes do not shift to check the truth, having no courage to face Bangchan while being an uncharacteristic emotional mess.

The bus starts moving.

And so do we.

In music and literature.

Word by word.

#Stray Kids #SKZ #Stray Kids fanfiction #Bangchan #Chan #Bang Chan #Chris Bang

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kinktae · 6 years

Text

Tempting || 7

Y/N is an angel and a good one at that. She steers clear of the seven deadly sins, especially lust. She is out performing her duties when she runs into a demon. Luckily for her, that demon, Taehyung, doesn’t seem to buy into that whole “Angels and Demons are sworn enemies” idea. But unluckily for her, Taehyung just so happens to be the very embodiment of sin. Especially lust.

Or, “For someone who is meant to be so pure, you sure are dirty, angel.”

pairing: demon!taehyung x angel!reader

genre: fantasy, smut, angst

warnings: alcohol use, mentions of suicide/death, lots of dirty talk and smut lol

A/N: this is less biblical and more supernatural?? Like less focus on religion itself and more focus on angels and demons as immortal creatures even though I might reference some “biblical” terms lol sorry this is too unholy anyways it’s fine. oh and this is a dream I had!

CHAPTERS: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 (final)

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Look who is up early once!” Hobi’s bright voice called out the moment he saw me walk emerge down the stairs. Seated at the table were my three roommates, each one of them digging into their breakfast of choice.

I rolled my eyes playfully at the orange haired man’s comment. He wasn’t wrong after all; I often spent my nights awake out roaming with Taehyung. I had no idea the city was so lively at night. There was always something happening, be it good or bad. It was crazy how little of the city I actually got to see. Angelic duties didn’t allow for much sightseeing I suppose.

Some nights Taehyung and I found ourselves went sitting in Jane’s room, listening in to the funny conversations she often had over the phone with her friends late at night. It was good to see that pregnancy didn’t hinder her from living her usual teenage life.

Taehyung and I had made a sort of game out of talking back to her, pretending that her responses were to us and not to whoever was on the other line.

Most days I woke up in the afternoon, completely exhausted from having stayed up all night. But for whatever reason, my body had chosen to regain consciousness earlier than usual today.

Joining my roommates at the dining table, I sat down with an exhausted sigh.

“Those late nights studying have been really getting to you, huh?” Jimin commented, looking at my tired state sympathetically. I froze silently in my seat before relaxing back into it in an attempt to look casual.

“Yeah.” I replied, unable to meet Jimin’s eyes. None of the boys knew about Taehyung and I had zero intention of telling them. We had been taught to resent everything that demons were brought up on, so I highly doubted they would take kindly to the idea of me dating a demon.

Dating.

It was a human term that once meant nothing to me, but now it was a word that made my insides feel warm.

The feeling of Namjoon staring at me had me pushing my happy thoughts away, however, sitting up a little straighter as I turned towards my roommates.

“So, what have you guys been up to? I feel like I haven’t seen you guys in forever.” I laughed nervously, eager to take any attention off of myself.

“Same old, same old. Helping people, restoring hope back into the world.” Hobi sighed dramatically before laughing which in turn caused me to do the same.

“How about you, Jimin?” I stated, turning towards him. He looked taken off guard, mouth full of his omelet. He swallowed it down harshly.

“Uh, nothing new really... Well, I mean, there’s this girl–”

“A girl? You’re seeing someone?!” I interrupted, excited at the idea that one of my roommates was dating someone as well. Jimin’s eyes grew wide at my words, cheeks flushing on cue.

“No, no. Nothing like that. It’s a human girl. She started coming around the park to tend to the flowers.” Jimin explained with a shake of his head.

“Oh man, watch out Jimin, looks like you got competition.” Hobi warned.

Jimin smiled crookedly, shaking his head.

“It’s nice. I appreciate the help.” He replied contently.

Hobi shrugged, “Fine, but when you’re run out of business, don’t come crying to us.”

Namjoon let out an amused chuckle but Jimin merely rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his omelet.

Suddenly, a yawn ripped through me. God, I was tired. Maybe a few more hours of sleep wouldn’t hurt.

“Actually, I think I’m gonna go back to bed. Sorry to leave so soon but I’m exhausted.” I told the boys, standing up to leave.

“Uh, Y/N!” Hobi called out suddenly, causing me to pause my movements.

“There’s, uh, something I wanted to ask you, actually.” He continued, sounding uncomfortable. Noticing the atmosphere of the room shift significantly, I sat back down slowly.

“Okay...” I responded, beckoning him to continue.

Hobi glance to Namjoon momentarily, who nodded at him. What was that for?

“Did you, uh, happen to borrow an essence suppressor?”

I blinked in surprise, my body growing cold.

Did he know?

“I... Why do you ask?” I finally responded, not sure whether to answer him truthfully or not.

“Well, they’re not exactly easy to come by, and I’m in charge of them so it’s my job to keep track of how many are left. There was one missing.” He revealed, tapping his fingertips against the table.

“Oh, wow. Are you sure?” I tried, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

I suddenly became aware of how intently the three boys were staring at them.

“Well, it wasn’t me. Namjoon, Jimin, was it one of you guys?” I asked, running a hand through my hair. I could feel myself beginning to panic.

“They don’t have any reason to steal one from me, Y/N.” Hobi told me firmly, causing me to frown.

“So what? You think I have a reason?” I quipped defensively. “I’ve been studying for the past two weeks– Why would I need an essence suppressor?”

Jimin looked at me, clearly surprised at my tone. I didn’t know why I was growing angry with Hoseok. He was right, after all. I had taken it from him.

“I dunno, none of us has seen much of you lately so I figured–”

“Well, you figured wrong.” I snapped coldly, standing up from my seat.

“Y/N, calm down.” Namjoon said, suddenly speaking up. I turned my head to glare at him.

“I am calm!” I told him angrily, my voice coming out louder than I would’ve liked. Something within my chest felt tight and the way the boys were all looking at me only amplified the sensation.

“We know you’re stressed out from studying so hard. It makes sense that you would’ve wanted to go out to Limbo again to let off some steam, no one is upset with you.” Namjoon reasoned causing me to scoff.

“Limbo? You think I stole a suppressor because I wanted to go clubbing? Please, I didn’t take your stupid suppressor.” I huffed.

That’s a lie.

“Y/N–” Namjoon began as if to warn me to calm down again.

“No, you know what, this whole confrontation is just stupid. Just leave me alone!” I frowned, walking out of the room and up the stairs before anyone could say anything else.

There was something wrong– there had to be. Because with every step I took I felt myself growing angrier. I knew I was in the wrong, I knew I should just go back down and apologize but the thought of having to face my roommates once again only made me angrier so I opted instead to head into my room, shutting my door with a dramatic slam.

Letting myself fall onto my bed, I frowned. I let my eyes fall over my room; my lights were off, painting the space in a dark color that once made me uneasy but ever since Taehyung entered my life, now provided me with unexpected comfort.

My hands found purchase onto the nearest pillow within my reach and before I could think to question myself, I shoved my face into it and let out a muffled scream.

A few seconds ticked by before I let the pillow fall down onto my lap, my breathing slowing. I had remembered that one of Jane's favorite movies had a scene where the protagonist had screamed into a pillow and while I wasn't sure what the action was meant to accomplish, I realized the tightness in my chest had lessened.

Letting out a sigh, I ran a hand through my hair.

My anger had begun to subside and in its place was a sinking filling in my stomach. I didn't need to know that Wrath was a sin for me to know that raising my voice at the boys was wrong, I could feel it.

The sound of multiple footsteps coming up the stairs cause my breathing to hitch, turning to face the wooden surface of my shut door. For a moment, I feared that they were headed my way, my grip on the pillow tightening.

However, I quickly realized that I was listening to the sounds of the boys moving to get ready to do their jobs– to be angels.

Laying back onto my bed, I shut my eyes. Between the footsteps were small hints of hushed words that I couldn't make out, a bitter reminder of just how distant I was growing from the people I considered family.

I laid in the cool shadow of my room as everyone made their way back downstairs and out the front door, carrying on to be productive with their day.

Tears pricked at my eyes as my mind fell victim to the darkened thoughts that were racing through it.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I took in the state of our study room. Oddly enough it went by relatively unused despite the fact that this house was home to an Archangel. Namjoon had access to the Angelic Archives, an impressive library only accessible to those in higher ranks; our little at home library was archaic in comparison.

Scanning the bookshelf, I finally came across the book I had been looking for and pulled it from the shelf eagerly.

If I had been studying for your placement test like I was supposed to then maybe this would have been spending my free time, not with a blond demon roaming the city streets.

As I lay in my bed mopping, I realized that perhaps it was time that I did research after all.

Opening the thick book, I let out a cough of protest as an unfortunate amount of dust ejected itself into the air.

Jesus. We really have been neglecting these books.

Waving a hand above the book, my eyes fall onto the page I just opened. Printed at the top read the word ‘Succubus,’ a lengthy description just below it.

If my questions were going to be answered anywhere it would be the Demonic Encyclopedia. Giving the unsettling sketch of the demon printed onto the page a brief glance, I quickly flipped back a few pages. My guess was that this book was in alphabetical order, as most encyclopedias were.

My hunch proved itself to be correct, as my eyes fell upon the word I had been searching for.

“Scelus,” I read out loud, “Latin for the word ‘sin’. Etymology can be found from the Proto-Indo-European branch. The root word ‘skel’ meaning to bend, or to curve. Like most demons, Sceluses possess a demonic and human form.”

Understanding Taehyung meant understanding all parts of him and as much as I didn’t want to know more I knew I had to. There was a small part of me that feared that being with him was changing me– in which way, I wasn’t quite sure.

I let out a sigh, my arms growing tired from holding up the heavy book. Walking over to the study room’s desk, I set it down, peering over it as I continued to read.

Sceluses are demons of suggestion, holding no outward control over their target’s bodies. Routinely, the Scelus slips into the mind of a human, inserting ideas of chaos and misconduct. A Scelus works to tempt humans to sin, disguising their suggestions as being the victim’s own thoughts. Those that are particularly weak-willed are most likely to listen to the Sceluses suggestions, thus embarking on a path towards sin and chaos.

I paused, a cold feeling of uneasiness falling over me.

Taehyung had once slipped into my mind, trying to get me to kiss him– to sin. He hadn’t inserted any more ideas into my mind since that day but given where we were today, it was safe to say Taehyung had succeeded in leading me to sin.

Ignoring that realization, I pressed on.

Although physically unable to physically manipulate a victim like more traditional demons, Sceluses hold more power over a human soul than most. In its demonic form, it possesses the ability to sever the soul from the heart. By cutting off all empathy and love, the soul then blackens, essentially assuring soul a spot in Hell, too far gone to repent. Witnesses of this process have described it as horrifically chilling, the demon entering the human while writhing and thrashing in agony.

A harsh exhale of air left my lips. That night at Jane’s. Taehyung had cut Jake's soul. It was the only way he could hurt Jake and protect Jane.

A drawing on the page pulled me away from its next passage.

It wasn’t what I would expect a demon to look like; there were no twisted features or bared sharp teeth. No, the drawing itself didn’t consist of much at all. The demon drawn was thin and long– dark and entirely featureless except for two distinct eyes. I imagined they would be human-like if it weren’t for the way the irises were shades black, blending into the pupils.

I still remembered that night outside Jane’s house. How I nearly mistook Taehyung for a shadow as he leaned back against a tree, the shine of his eyes being the only thing I could make sense of.

A wave of nausea rolled over me. The idea of that Taehyung used to spent his days lurking in the dark as he tempted people into sin suddenly too much to grasp. Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I let my mind wander, craving anything and everything that would take my mind off what I had just read.

Jin.

Taehyung’s friend wasn’t entirely human, right? What was it that Taehyung had called him? A Demi?

Cautiously, I began moving back into the book, flipping through the pages of demons beginning with the letter D. To my disappointment, the word Demi failed to show up. Frowning, I tapped a finger against the book.

Alright, what else could I look up?

Sifting through the book, I came across “Incubus,” letting out a noise of recognition as I remembered that Taehyung’s friend Jungkook was an Incubus.

Incubus. Derived from the Latin word root ‘incub’ meaning to lie upon. Incubi are demons of Lust, feeding off sexual energy by sleeping with women. Incubi can either feed in their demon form, praying on sleeping women through nightmares or can physically fornicate in their human form. Incubi, along with their female counterparts (see Succubus page 312) are said to be alluring and sexually aggressive by nature. These demons can usually lure their targets quite effortlessly. Incubi are capable of killing their targets but many prefer to keep the woman they involve themselves with alive so they may feed on them habitually.

Goodness. No wonder Taehyung had insisted on keeping me away from Jungkook. I had assumed he was just possessive, but clearly, he had reason to be cautious.

Incubi have on occasion been known to produce offspring with human women. These offspring are formally known as ‘Cambion,’ although often referred to as ‘demi-demons.’ During the 15th–18th centuries, women who claimed pregnancy through Incubi encounters were often accused of witchcraft and burned before the child could be birthed. Cambion hold no demonic power, but as children have been reported as ‘resenting human touch’ and ‘not developing a pulse or need to breathe until after completing human puberty.’

So that was it then. Jin was a Cambion. My heart felt heavy as I imagined the difficult childhood the kind man must have had. I couldn’t even begin to fathom the pain of having your family abandon you over things you have no control over.

I scanned over the rest of the page, finding examples of famous Cambion throughout history and famous cases of Incubus linked serial killers.

A loud knock against the front door suddenly captured my attention, my head snapping up and away from the book.

Cocking my head to the side, I stayed silent. Who was that?

I glanced towards the clock mounted on the wall, frowning as I realized that it was still far too early for the boys to come home. There was still an hour before sunset.

Was it Taehyung?

I shook my head, dismissing that idea immediately. No, Taehyung always came over when it was dark out, besides, he wouldn’t come through the front door. It was too risky considering I lived with three other angels, not to mention he once joked that sneaking in through my window made him feel cool.

Perhaps it was just a group of human kids. Our house had been enchanted to look old and abandoned to the human eye, so it wasn’t a rare occurrence for the children in the neighborhood to challenge one another to knock on the door. I didn’t understand the logic behind it as they almost always ran away scared right after but then again, there were still a lot of human tendencies that confused me.

Realizing that my best bet was to just look through the peephole and see for myself, I quickly shuffling out the room, making my way over the front door. Another loud knock rang out against it just before I reached it.

Cautiously, I peered through the peephole to see, curious to see who it was that was so insistent on entering our house. A gasp fell from me as a pale hand running through black hair came into view.

Yoongi.

I backed away from the door immediately, crouching down before I could think twice. I knew he couldn’t see me through the front door, but fear couldn’t help but burrow its way into me. I had to stay quiet. Surely he’d go away if he thought no one was home, right?

What in heavens name was he doing here? Why was Taehyung’s scary vampire friend at my doorstep? Oh God, I should’ve read the chapter on Vampires. If Yoongi somehow made his way in, I had no idea to protect myself. All my powers were light based and seeing as he had just walked on over here in the sunlight, I doubt it would do much good against him. Maybe I could quietly sneak back into the study room; there had to be some sort of information on how to defend yourself against death vampires in the Demonic Encyclopedia.

“Y/N, I know you’re there. I heard you gasp.” Yoongi’s low voice rang out from outside nearly causing me to lose my footing.

“Um.. I-I... Now isn’t a good time.” I called out, struggling to conjure up an excuse as to why I couldn’t open the door other than the fact that I was terrified of him.

There was no way I was opening this door.

“Open the door.” Yoongi ordered unforgivingly.

Haha, just kidding!

All but lunging towards the doorknob, I swung the door open, not wanting to anger him any further. Yoongi’s disinterested eyes met my panicked ones.

“Hi.” I breathed, paralyzed to my spot. I was pretty sure he knew I was an angel after hearing his conversation with Taehyung, but now, without any essence suppressor present, I had no doubt he knew.

“Hey.” Yoongi replied dryly.

Not knowing what to say, I let silence fall between us.

“Can I come in?” He said, raising an eyebrow. I jumped back into life.

“Yes! O-Of course! Please!” I squeaked, moving out of the way so he could enter. Yoongi walked past me with a small clearing of his throat.

Suddenly, an awful vampire tv-shows Jane watched came to mind. In one of the episodes, the vampire had to be verbally invited in otherwise they couldn't enter the house.

Nice going. I just failed basic vampire self-defense.

“Look, I’m not here to bullshit around. Let me get straight to the point.” Yoongi said suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts. My hands pulled on the sleeve of my sweater nervously as I nodded in response.

“You need to stay away from Taehyung. Move on. Find someone else. Take a vow of celibacy or something, I don’t really care.”

I blushed at the mention of celibacy but otherwise didn't respond. I was too scared to.

“You're not good for him.” Yoongi pressed.

His words were laced in venom, looking at me as if I were something of an inconvenience, causing something in my chest to harden.

The last thing I wanted was to upset Yoonig but as I took in everything that was happening, I began to grow annoyed. Yoongi had marched into my home, unannounced, only to scold me about being a bad influence on Taehyung? This guy really had absolutely no manners.

“You... You don’t know that...” I replied, my voice small, trying to work up my nerve.

“Actually, I do.”

“No. You don’t.” I finally said, my voice steady.

Yoongi looked taken aback, clearly not expecting me to hold my stance. I could feel my hands trembling but if I wanted to hold my ground, I needed to continue on.

“Taehyung is learning how to be good. He... He is good! He’s kind and considerate; he has love in his heart, love that was there long before I even knew him.” I urged, hoping my words would reach Yoongi.

“He is a demon. His soul is corrupt and quite frankly, Hell’s property. The scars on his back are proof of that.” He deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest.

I shook my head.

“Do you think I’d be with him if I didn’t see good in him? Besides, why do you care if we’re together or not? You don’t even know me.” I argued, refusing to back down. The way Yoongi was looking at me made me feel small and meek and it was fueling the anger already boiling within me.

“I don’t know you?” Yoongi said, laughing bitterly, “I know that you’re an angel that has no idea what’ll happen when you guys get caught. That’s all I need to know.”

Enough. This conversation wasn’t going to go anywhere and Yoongi hardly seemed like the find the middle ground type.

“I know Taehyung appreciates your concern, but this has nothing to do with you. Let him make his own choices. I love Taehyung. I know you probably don’t understand that, but it means that I’m going to fight, okay? I’m not going to let anything get in the way of us, including you.” I told him, firmly.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, causing my resolve to tumble.

“Um, also, I– I’m training to become a Power. So if I have to fight you, I, uh, will.” I said before I could stop myself.

The threat sounded incredibly weak, even I didn’t believe my own words. Still, I couldn’t let Yoongi know that if I ever wanted a chance of him taking me seriously. I forced on a calm expression, masking how scared and unsure I actually felt. My hands balled themselves into fists beside myself in a subconscious attempt to ground myself.

For several moments, no one said anything, Yoongi’s eyes refusing to pull away from mine. His stare was extremely unnerving but I narrowed my eyes at him, refusing to back down.

He frowned.

“I have to take a piss. Where’s your bathroom?”

The question took me completely off guard and my serious facade crumbled away as I gawked dumbly at the pale boy.

“Down the hallway past the stairs. The second door on your right.” I said, tilting my head in confusion.

Did I miss something? How did such a tense conversation turn into something so casual so quickly?

Yoongi offered me a nod before walking further into the house, making his way towards the bathroom.

I blinked.

Did vampires even use the restroom? Taehyung said that Yoongi wasn’t a blood-lusting vampire but instead fed off people’s last remaining life source. Did life source make the same journey that regular food did?

I should use this moment to sneak into the study and quickly read up on vampires, right?

Wait, no, the study room was too close to the bathroom. Yoongi could sneak up behind me. I needed to be alert. Also, I feel as if that’d be extremely uncomfortable if Yoongi walked in on me reading about him.

Please, God, don’t let vampires like the taste of Angels.

I shook my head, trying to clear my head of such impertinent thoughts.

Now what?

I swayed my weight from foot to foot, trying to distract myself as I waited for Yoongi to finish in the bathroom. The sound of our grandfather clock ticking consumed the room.

Oh, forget this! I’m not just going to stand here like a stranger in my own house. Making my way into the kitchen, I began to look for something I could snack on– anything to give me something to do while I waited. Eating excessively when I was stressed out was something I had always avoided, as Gluttony was a sin, but lately, I found myself way too stressed to care.

I found a box of crackers in the cupboard and I reached into it blindly. I shoved a cracker into my mouth greedily.

I had a vampire in my house.

A vampire.

Perhaps, I was some sort of demon beacon. I mean, Taehyung had been following Jake who just so happened to be interested Jane who I was in charge of. Two weeks after that initial confrontation, I ran into Jin, who was half demon and then consequently ran into Taehyung once again who introduced me to his whole team of demons. And now I had a vampire peeing in my bathroom.

I let out a laugh of disbelief at how ridiculous my life had become, only to drown the sound out with another wave of crackers.

I had so many questions.

How did Yoongi even know I lived here?

What if the boys were home when Yoongi had knocked on the door? I could just imagine Hobi opening the door, and passing out the moment he found out that our visitor was a vampire.

No, wait. Seriously, what if the boys were home?

That was pretty reckless of Yoongi to just knock on our door like that. I thought he was some kind of ancient vampire. Shouldn’t he be incredibly wise, having had been alive for so long? Or, should I say, dead?

“I thought Gluttony was a sin.” Yoongi’s voice said suddenly, causing me to jump. A piece of cracker that I had yet to chew fell onto the floor, breaking on impact. Yoongi stared at me in mild interest, one of his hands stuffed in his pocket.

I glared at him openly, as he was the cause of my sudden glutton, “It is.”

“Alright.” He replied, before turning to head out the kitchen.

“Um, where are you going?” I called out in confusion, setting my box of crackers onto the nearest surface, hurrying after the vampire.

“Home.” He replied not bothering to stop for me, pushing right through our front door. I poked my head out the door, contemplating whether or not I should be following him.

“I thought you were trying to convince me to leave Taehyung?” I called out. This guy changed paces so often that I literally couldn’t keep up.

Yoongi turned around to face me as he walked, now on our sidewalk. It was beginning to get dark outside, I noted.

“Tried. Failed. Whatever.” He shrugged, before turning around. I could only watch as he left, my eyebrows furrowed in utter bewilderment.

I had always thought that Taehyung was a complex person but Yoongi? Yoongi takes the cake for being the most unreadable person I’ve ever come across.

Letting out a huff, I gripped onto the metal of the doorknob, shut myself back into the house and locking it, for good measure.

New rule: no supernatural creature is allowed into this house without having had conducted proper research into them.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I found myself walking into the study room. I doubted Yoongi was going to pay me any more unexpected visits, but even so, if I need to stock up on cloves of garlic, I wanted to know.

The book was exactly where I had left it and I didn't hesitate to flip over to the ‘V’ demon section.

‘Vacuus’ was the first name to greet me and although it’s brief summary intrigued me, I had a goal in mind.

‘Venenum’ greeted me as I turned the page.

Wait a minute...

Flipping that very same page back, I was once against greeted by Vacuus.

Shouldn’t Vampire come between these two? I stared down at the book, the unmistakable feeling that something was wrong washing over me.

Letting my eyes run down the area between the two pages, I realized that though small, there was evidence of a piece of paper that had been carefully pulled out from the book’s spine.

A page was missing. Vampire was missing.

I took a step back and looked to the floor. Just by the looks of it, the book must have been ancient, the pages flimsy and browning. Certainly, it was possible the page could’ve fallen out.

Sinking to my knees, I checked to see if it had perhaps fallen beneath the desk, only to let out a sigh in disappointment when I realized there was nothing there.

To my understanding, these books had come with this house, meaning the page could’ve fallen out ages ago and I wouldn’t have known. Lord knows whoever had it before could’ve been careless with the book.

I let my finger trail down the ragged edge, pressing my lips together in annoyance.

I scoffed. Of all the pages, it just had to be Vampire.

What the hell?

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

NEXT CHAPTER IS THE BIG ONE FOR THOSE SMUT ENTHUSIASTS ;)

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jincherie · 6 years

Text

Wanted | 04

pairing: Jungkook x reader genre: space!au, alien!au, alien! Jungkook, smut (future) words: 12.6k+ rating: sfw warnings: they get frisky in the forest (no smut :( ) notes: holy shit

You were a deserter, a renegade, a wanted “criminal”. It was never in your plans to crash land on that planet, and it most certainly wasn’t in your plans to fall in love with it’s handsome ruler.

masterlist | moodboard | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | complete

“Hmm, I’m not feeling that one. Try another.”

You couldn’t help the glare you sent the blonde male who was reclining across your bed like he owned it, nibbling on a fruit as he gazed over at you imperiously. You were sure Jimin could feel your annoyance from where he stood several feet away, rifling through the closet.

“Taehyung, you’re not the one helping me choose, stop talking,” you bristled, putting the dress under fire back in the closet despite your words. He’d spent the evening throwing in his unhelpful two cents as to what you should wear tonight— or rather, what you shouldn’t wear. He’d chosen his clothes a while ago and was now bored and relishing in the opportunity to stir you up a bit. As much as it bothered you, he was right, you weren’t feeling this particular dress either— but he was annoying you so you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of letting him know. From the look on his face, however, it seemed like he already did, and he was revelling in it.

“This one, y/n,” Jimin’s mellifluous tone greeted your ears and you turned to see a dress in his outstretched grasp. Your eyes lit up as you saw it.

“Ooh, pretty,” you cooed, fingers coming to caress the deep, wine-red silk. You took it from him, inspecting it closer and already liking what you saw. You’d tried on pant and shirt sets, dresses— pretty much everything by now. But this dress was probably the prettiest and most enticing one you’d seen.

It was almost a week ago that Jungkook, the Kelkie King, had invited you to watch him and Jimin spar. It was almost a week ago that you’d glimpsed a mark on his neck, something Seokjin had informed you was a Fate Mark, and you’d been left burning with curiosity ever since. Within that week, you’d explored the palace a bit more, spent some time with Seokjin and Jimin, and visited Taehyung once as he worked on the radio with the former in tow. The mechanical engineer was making some headway with the radio, which was impressive since with how completely and utterly destroyed it had been in the crash, Taehyung may as well have been building it from scratch. He estimated another couple of weeks, and he’d have it up and running. He was working hard, but you’d made him slow down and take a couple of breaks— getting back to the rest of your crew was important, but not as important as his wellbeing. He’d decided to listen and today was one of the two days he’d taken as a miniature holiday of sorts. It coincided nicely with the event that Jungkook had invited both of you to, the event that you were currently choosing what to wear to.

In short, it was a dinner. Jimin had informed you that in a couple of weeks there was a big lunar event coming up, and that even without the event it was customary that with each cycle of the moons the leaders of the towns within the kingdom would come and meet with the King over dinner, and issues, if any, would be discussed, along with the general status of the towns. It was something you’d been informed not only helped keep peace but helped ensure Jungkook could continue doing what was best for his people. You were eager to attend, curious as to how something like this usually went. There was also another part of you, however, that was eager to go because you knew Jungkook would be there, too. You tried to pretend you weren’t as stupidly excited as you were.

Dress in hand, you moved to the bathroom to try it on. The welcome sensation of the cool, silken material sliding against your skin greeted you as you pulled it on delicately, aware of the garb’s ability to stretch a little but wary of pulling too much and ripping it. It slipped up, over your hips and waist, and finally your chest, your neck and arms sliding into the allotted space with ease. You were always astonished at how the clothing managed to hug your form without clinging in an unsightly manner. You were going to miss this when you finally managed to leave.

The dress fell to the floor with slits along the sides and sported a deep halter neckline that dipped enough to reveal a liberal amount of your chest, the thick, ribbon-like straps meant to loop around your neck and double around in a choker-like fashion to tie at the back of it. It would seem that even in a dress like this, your neck and throat remained covered. You were beyond curious as to why it was that all Kelkie clothing was fashioned this way, but kept forgetting to ask Jimin or Seokjin when you had the chance.

You attempted to tie the ribbon yourself a couple of times, but ultimately gave up since the end results were not something you were proud of. Jimin and Taehyung’s eyes whipped to you as soon as you exited the bathroom, the latter choking on the large bite of fruit he’d just taken and coughing violently. You rolled your eyes— served him right for being annoying on purpose.

Jimin beamed with pride, hands clapping together. “Excellent! It looks just as good as I envisioned!”

You blushed slightly, holding up the ribbons with your hands behind your neck so the top didn’t fall down and you didn’t flash them. “Can you help tie it? I can’t do it.”

When Jimin nodded and beckoned you closer, you moved over, turning your back to him and waiting for him to take the ribbons so you could move your hair out of the way.

Taehyung chortled. “I can’t believe you’re wearing a dress.”

You glared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean? You’ve seen me in a dress before!”

At the befuddled expression that crossed his face you sighed, feeling Jimin take the ribbons from your grasp. “You saw me at Namjoon’s sister’s wedding? Actually, I’m not surprised you don’t remember. You were drunk off your face.”

Taehyung hummed, eyes glazing slightly as he remembered the night in question, and probably the copious amounts of alcohol he consumed before blacking out. “It was a night of celebration.”

You rolled your eyes, contemplating a response as you grasped your hair and moved it aside. You were distracted by the soft gasp that escaped Jimin as the nape of your neck was revealed. You wondered what he was looking at, but Taehyung was apparently way ahead of you.

“Oh, that mark on the back of her neck?” he queried, meeting Jimin’s gaze over your shoulder. “We don’t know what that is. It just sort of… appeared, out of nowhere, a couple of months ago— around the time we fled the garrison, actually. I guess we haven’t really had time to question it.”

Jimin hummed in acknowledgement, and you peered over your shoulder to catch his facial expression. It was a peculiar combination of pensive and shocked, and it made you wonder what exactly was going on in his mind that made his thoughts transfer into such expressions on his face.

He seemed to shake himself out of his stupor, dark eyes meeting yours and lips curving in a smile that, quite honestly, spelled trouble. You were instantly wary.

“How curious,” the Kelkie commented, mischief glimmering in his gaze. Your own eyes narrowed, ready to question him when he looped the ribbon around your neck and tied it at the back with a certain finesse that rendered you speechless and, as a result of your stupor, completely forgetful of what you had been going to ask. The remainder of the ribbons fell down your back, tickling the skin where it was bare. “There you go, perfect. You look good.”

Taehyung snorted, squinting at you playfully. “Good? She looks amazing— are you sure you’re y/n?”

You threw a brush at him, the blonde cackling as he dodged it and inevitably choking on the large bite of fruit as he did so. You shook your head— of all the people you could have gotten stuck on a foreign planet with, did it have to be Taehyung?

x x x

Apparently it did. You didn’t know if anyone else could have charmed and befriended an entire room of aliens so quickly and so effortlessly. Within minutes of entering the room, Taehyung had grinned and garnered the interest of every single new face in the vicinity. You watched in awe as he flittered about the room, introducing himself and making friends. It was incredible to see him at work— you were now more sure than ever that no one could resist your best friend, Kim Taehyung, even if they wanted to.

All of the town leaders were already present, and Seokjin had arrived not too long after Jimin, Taehyung and yourself. The only one remaining was Jungkook, and Seokjin had said he wasn’t too far behind. In the meantime, you trailed after Jimin since Taehyung was lost to the world for now. The short male guided you around, introducing you to the leaders and vice versa. You weren’t sure what you’d expected, but every leader you met was completely agreeable, friendly and eager to make your acquaintance— you guessed that they hadn’t seen a human before, and the fact that they were now seeing two in one night must have been pretty incredible for them. You got the feeling they were eager to learn as much as they could while they still had the opportunity.

You were currently talking to a tall, slim Kelkie that went by the name Yugyeom and was the delegate from a town not too far from the palace. Much like the King, he was youthful, however he had a certain air of mischief about him that you’d only glimpsed around Jungkook. His eyes were dark, meeting your own with a pleased glint, and you noted that not only did his raven hair compliment him well, but he had a cute mark beneath his eye, nestled amongst the luminescent freckles smattered over his cheekbones and nose. He too wore the same silken garb with a high neckline, and you had to admit that it suited him well.

Even so, a not-so-quiet voice in the back of your mind noted that there was someone you knew that suited it better.

You were quick to dismiss that errant thought, resisting the urge to physically shake your head as another leader, someone named Youngjae, introduced himself to you. You smiled at him, returning the sentiment and providing your name, grinning wider as his markings flared a pleasant, contented violet. As you spoke you couldn’t help but catch sight of Jimin from the corner of your eye, watching discreetly as he sidled up to Yugyeom and leaned up to whisper something in his ear. The taller male straightened, eyes shooting wide and flying over to you, freckles blooming bright blue, before Jimin could smack his arm and stop him— which he proceeded to do anyway to get him to stop looking. Yugyeom leaned to whisper something to Jimin, rubbing his arm where the shorter male had hit him, but before you could continue to surreptitiously peep at whatever they were doing from the corner of your eye the doors swung open and only moments later there was an amused voice sounding from behind your conversation partner.

“Ah, Youngjae. It’s good to see you again.”

At once your spine shot ramrod straight, the softest of gasps catching in your throat. Your mark tingled, something you assumed to be a side effect of the absolute fright you’d just gotten, and you forced your gaze to turn over Youngjae’s shoulder at the King’s rapidly approaching figure.

Jungkook looked just as good as you remembered and better. The silken set he wore today was a deep, glimmering obsidian. There was no coloured undertone, only the richest of blacks, contrasted sharply by the silver embroidery lining the edges of the clothing. It was a hot evening, and so the King had opted for a sleeveless shirt, arms decorated with the engraved silver bands and rings that set your heart on an unsteady beat and your breath aquiver.

It shouldn’t be allowed for someone to look that good, a distant part of you decided.

Until this point Jungkook’s gaze had only been on the male before you, and he hadn’t realised you were there behind him. You could tell the exact moment his eyes fell upon you.

His entire form seemed to freeze, stuttering in his step, his eyes widening and breath halting in his lungs. The galaxy of luminescent markings that had graced his skin a contented blue instantly burned a bright, bright pink before shifting into a deeper burgundy, a wine-red that were it not for its almost imperceptible violet undertone would have perfectly matched the colour of your dress. His gaze burned your skin where it travelled over the length of your figure the dress did nothing to hide. Your heart thrummed, no doubt loud enough and heavy enough in its frantic beats that the Kelkie nearby could hear it, and your tongue darted to wet your lips. The King’s dark eyes focused instantly on the movement and the colour of his marks burned deeper than you thought was possible.

You were broken from your trance by an amused sound from Youngjae as he watched the entire event transpire. Your cheeks instantly flushed, burning as you shot the male a sheepish grin. Jungkook was quick to recover, expression shifting back to one of amicability, but the colour of his marks remained, dimmed only slightly against the warm tone of his skin.

“It is good to see you once more, Your Majesty,” Youngjae spoke, unable to his the amused edge to his words.

“I see you’ve met one of our lovely human guests,” Jungkook voiced as he continued closer on his original path, an almost imperceptible tremor to his tone that your ears nearly— nearly missed.

Youngjae smiled, gushing excitedly about the things he’d learnt of you, and you were carried into conversation once more, the only thing tethering you to the stark heat of reality being the heady, molten burn of Jungkook’s ceaseless gaze against your skin.

The evening progressed and sooner than you thought you were moving to sit at the long, u-shaped table in a large hall with towering ceilings and chandeliers carved from large crystals that illuminated from within. As everyone seemed to take a designated seat, you began to stress slightly— there was nothing indicating where to sit, and you had no idea where you were meant to plant yourself.

Jungkook caught your silent floundering and peered over, hand grasping a chair beside his own at the head of the table as his mouth opened. Before he could even utter a word there was a hand brushing your arm and your attention was brought to a grinning Yugyeom, a suspiciously smiling Jimin a foot or so behind him.

“There’s a space here,” he tugged you over with bright eyes and a brighter smile, pulling out the chair for you; it was at the end of one of the longer parts of the table, probably as far from Jungkook as you could get. “Sit next to me.”

You couldn’t help the way your gaze momentarily flew back to Jungkook, and were surprised to see Jimin pulling out the chair besides the king and plopping down happily. The look on Jungkook’s face was almost comical, and if you weren’t in a somewhat public place right now you probably would have laughed aloud.

You took the seat besides Yugyeom, noting the mischievous curve of his lips and the sly gleam in his dark eyes to ponder at a later time, and allowed yourself to be swept into the process of the evening.

The leaders spoke, and Jungkook listened. When the meals were brought out Jungkook closed his eyes for a second, reminding you oddly of a human tradition you knew of, before reopening them once more and at the smile gracing his lips everyone began to eat at once. As per usual, you were in awe at the food— you didn’t know what the hell it was, but it was good, and it graced your tastebuds in a way you doubted anything else ever could.

The leaders took turns reporting to the King on their respective towns, filling him in on the people’s happiness levels, trade and economy, and agriculture for the towns further from the palace that focused on farming. Your eyes were often drawn to Jungkook, even as you listened and ate, and it was because of your constant gaze on him that you noticed him glancing over to you every so often. His marks were in a constant state of change, wavering from soft blue when he listened to the leaders speak, to the same deep red from before when his eyes fell upon your form.

He seemed embarrassed each time you caught him looking, if the petal pink blossoming on his cheeks beneath his marks was anything to go by. He was always quick to move his gaze back to the speaker at hand, and it made your heart squeeze excitedly each time you caught him.

A Kelkie named Mark was taking his time informing the King of the recent bountiful harvests that came as a result of a generous rain season, when you felt a nudge at your side. You turned to see Yugyeom grinning at you, and caught Jimin peering over from the head of the table.

“Is Kilkhea very different from Earth?” he queried, hand resting against yours on the table— his skin was much cooler than yours, a pleasant contrast to the heat of the day lingering in the air. You couldn’t help the instinctive skip of your heart at the touch.

“Well, yes and no,” you responded, thinking about how to best answer. “Kilkhea is very warm and humid, and there a places on earth like that too— but there are also places on Earth where it’s much colder, and dryer.”

Yugyeom’s mouth fell open slightly as he nodded in understanding. “Does it look very different?”

You smiled at him, the back of your neck tingling as you felt a certain gaze on you once more. “I haven’t been to Earth in a long time, but from what I remember it’s almost completely different! The plants, foliage, flowers— everything is so beautiful here. The way they illuminate the night, and how they glow different colours… I love it. I’ve never seen anything quite so mesmerising, and breathtaking.”

Yugyeom listened eagerly as you spoke, smiling pleasantly. “You’re a fan of the flora?”

You nodded, spearing a piece of meat with your utensil. “Yes! On earth, everything is just green, and brown, and the flowers can be pretty, and different colours, but not much else,” you hummed in thought. “We only have one moon too.”

The tall male gasped, genuine surprise filtering over his face. “Only one?!” he echoed, hand falling over yours. “How do you have festivals and events like the Lunar Festivals?”

At the confused tilt of your head, Yugyeom explained. “It’s an event that happens every couple of years where our three moons align, and sometimes it coincides with another event and the planet’s shadow passes over them. The first event is called a Lunar Union, and the second is called Lunar Null— the Lunar Null is much rarer, but there’s actually one happening in two weeks time.”

Realisation coursed through you— ah, that must have been the lunar event Jimin mentioned earlier. Yugyeom grasped your hand in his— you could feel the stare burning into you intensify at the touch— and shot you a winning smile that tripped your heart up two beats.

“If you are interested, I would be happy to take y—”

“Yugyeom,” It was the King’s voice that cut the male off, both of you turning towards where he sat at the head of the table. Your eyes widened slightly at the deep, deep green of Jungkook’s marks, and the stern clench to his jaw that paired with the darker tone of his eyes. A smile, strained in nature, tugged the King’s lips. You caught Jimin looking rapidly back and forth between Jungkook, yourself and Yugyeom, a sly turn to his smile. “How are things in your domain, down by the river?”

Yugyeom blinked, before he beamed at the King, his hand leaving yours to grasp his utensil and spear a piece of meat. “They have been excellent, Your Majesty! There was ample rain in the monsoon season, the river is flourishing and so is the town.”

And just like that, the dinner resumed. You continued eating, ignoring the satisfied look Jimin had adopted after that little event and trying not to stare at Jungkook like you had been before. It’s not like you could really help it— he looked incredible, your eyes were drawn to him much like they would be a fine artwork in a gallery. Everything about him drew you to him, and tonight it was like it was magnified tenfold.

Yugyeom continued as he had been for the rest of the dinner, a tentative touch here, a sly smile there— you didn’t get the sense he was being malicious, but you definitely knew he was up to something, and if the furtive glances shared with the King’s shorter advisor meant anything, then it had to do with Jimin too. A sneaking suspicion told you it was related to the way Jimin was monitoring each and every one of Jungkook’s reactions to you and Yugyeom, but you couldn’t be bothered trying to decipher it when there were more important things at hand— namely the delicious looking dessert that had been brought out and placed before you.

By the time the evening event was drawing to a close, you were full and very curious as to what Jimin and Yugyeom were up to. As the town leaders rose from their seats at the table and bid the King farewell, you witnessed the two of them whisper to the other once more. It was kind of funny, since it reminded you of the way you and Taehyung would cause mischief as cadets, back when you had free time and your biggest concern was making it through morning training. Seokjin was at your side with Taehyung in tow before you could ponder it much longer, his eyes warm and holding a certain sense of mirth as they greeted yours.

“Are you ready to return to your rooms?” the taller male asked, and at your affirmation he grinned, leading you from the hall, Taehyung gushing to you about the friends he’d made as you went. The last thing you saw before the dark walls of the hall greeted your eyes was the heat of Jungkook’s gaze as he watched you leave, eyes following you the entire way out and his marks a deep, wine-red.

xxx

The air filtering through the open window was, for a change, cool, the sheer gossamer curtains billowing lightly from its gentle flow. The breeze may have been cool, but the air still retained some of the warmth of the day. It was a peculiar sensation, your room bathed in the cool light of the room and the glowing crystal beside you bed, but the air still warm against your heated skin. As much as you admired the deep red dress you’d worn to the dinner, you’d been glad to slip it off and pull on the singlet and shorts you’d been provided as sleepwear. You were praising whoever invented the satin-esque material as it slid against your torso and the top of your thighs, offering some much-appreciated cool relief.

You’d returned to your rooms not long ago, maybe an hour at the most, and had only managed to get rid of Taehyung maybe ten or so minutes ago. You’d had to literally shoo him out the door and down the hall so he’d stop pestering you; you could listen to all his gushing another time. For now, you wanted to relax, and that started with getting changed and ridding your personal space of Taehyung.

The dinner had finished quite late, closer to midnight than you had imagined, and the three moons that orbited the planet sat high in the sky by the time you’d had a chance to slow down and look out the window. The darkness that settled beneath the foliage outside your room reminded you of the last time you’d noticed the night, and your thoughts were taken momentarily to the garrison.

You didn’t know what they were planning, what they were going to do next— if anything. As far as they were concerned you still had the important object they were seeking, the kelkite, and you knew how badly they wanted it, needed it, for their plans. You knew the fact the Kelkie had an accord with the Intergalactic Union was one of the only things stopping them from sending in large forces to retrieve you and the object you stole, but you also wouldn’t put it past them to send another assassin in anyway. They were desperate to reclaim what had been taken from their grasp, after all, and desperate men were dangerous men.

It was a knock that broke you from your thoughts, the sound somewhere between urgent and leisurely. You turned, curious and slightly alarmed, wondering who in the heavens could be knocking on your door so close to midnight. The polished stone beneath your feet was, thankfully, cool to the touch as you strode over to the door quietly. Against what was probably your better judgement, you opened it straight away.

Jungkook flinched, caught wide-eyed as he moved to knock again, freckles tinting pink. Surprise filled you at the sight of the King before your door so late at night, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was here for.

You couldn’t fight the smile that tugged your lips at how flustered the King seemed as you cocked your hip and leant against the doorframe, gazing at him expectantly. You waited as his eyes roamed your form, clad only in small silken shorts and a singlet of the same material and make. Curiously, the King’s marks fluttered to that same deep, wine-red you’d seen earlier, the same colour that was tinged with an undertone of violet. You had to wonder what emotion that lovely colour betrayed.

“Can I help you with something?” you queried, unable to help the slightly amused lilt to your voice. Jungkook’s eyes, with the same burning intensity you’d felt all night, shifted up to meet your own. He smiled, and in its sincerity it was one of the most endearing things you’d ever seen.

“But of course, little human,” his voice graced your ears and the reaction of your body was instantaneous; heart skipping its usual beats before fluttering excitedly against your ribcage, your breath threatening to catch in your throat as your lungs constricted slightly and your tummy was alight with the tentative brushes of thousands of butterflies. “I wouldn’t bother you at such an hour were it not for good reason.”

Your curiosity piqued, you found yourself leaning forward slightly. “Oh? What would this good reason be?”

He faltered for a moment, the smattering of freckles over his form flushing pink. “Well,” he began, gaze averting for a moment and allowing you the luxury of breathing. “I overheard, at the meeting this evening, when you were talking to Yugyeom…”

You waited, watching as he considered how to word what he wanted to say. His doe-like eyes moved to meet yours once more and yet again you were trapped. “I overheard, that you are fond of the flora on this planet.”

Instantly your face lit with a bright smile. “Yes! It’s beautiful, I really do love it.”

Jungkook seemed relieved, a soft breath escaping him before a large smile of his own tugged his lips, excitement welling within him and spilling forth through the light in his eyes. His hand moved to grasp your own, turning and tugging you after him as he led you away from your room. “Excellent! Come, little human. I have something to show you.”

Curiosity burned at you as you allowed yourself to be swept along after him, mesmerised by the sheer excitement— childish, almost, in its nature— glimmering in the depths of his dark eyes. He led you through halls, around corners and through doorways until you were rapidly approaching a large set of crystal doors that lead to a balcony. It was only now that you remembered your state of dress, turning your gaze to see the King wearing his usual style of clothing, with the addition of a thin coat that looked more like a dressing gown of sorts. You were surprised he could wear it, considering how easily you could get hot in the night, before you remembered that Kelkie had a lower body temperature than humans, and so it was probably easier for them to get cold.

“Jungkook,” you voiced, tugging his hand lightly to get his attention as he pushed the crystal door open. He immediately halted, turning to you with wide eyes. You offered a soft smile, gesturing to your body and the short, thin clothing adorning it. You were unsure what laid outside those doors, and whether or not you were going to be seeing people. “My clothes…”

The Kelkie King flushed pink, a soothing colour against his warm, bronzed tone, and his marks followed suit. His mouth dropped open as he realised your problem and he dropped your hand to remove his coat without a second thought. You could feel heat gracing your own cheeks as he slipped his arms from the cloth, turning and draping it over your own shoulders, his fingers lingering against your throat and collarbones for the most tantalising of split-seconds.

“There,” he hummed, pleased by the sight of you in his coat. “Now you won’t get cold, and no one will see y…”

He cut himself off, cheeks burning, and reclaimed your hand with a soft smile before continuing on his original path outside the palace through the crystal doors. His thumb ran over your knuckles and he spoke as he led you off the balcony and into the forest that lay beyond. You almost struggled to keep your attention on him with such absolute, natural beauty around you. The mesmerising, luminescent glow of the plants, the deep blues and violets of the shadows beneath their leaves, and the cool cerulean glow cast upon your surroundings by the three moons hung high in the sky— you didn’t know if you’d ever find another planet so heart-wrenchingly, stunningly beautiful.

“There’s a certain place I know,” Jungkook said, and for a moment you were distracted by the sight of the muscles in his back working beneath the material of his shirt. “I think… you will like it a lot. It is very beautiful, very serene. I often go there to think, and relax.”

You were honestly touched that Jungkook was doing this in the first place, but hearing that he was sharing a place he coveted, a place precious to him, a part of him, with you… you couldn’t calm the quivering beats of your heart, the molten heat that seemed to make itself at home in your cheeks.

“You seem to have good taste,” you smiled when he looked over his shoulder at you. “I’m sure I’ll like it.”

Jungkook’s marks seared bright, blossom pink, his cheeks suffering a similar fate as his chest seemed to swell with pride of sorts. He didn’t respond, his grasp on your hand tightening ever so slightly as he turned back and continued leading you through the forest that took your breath away. You walked a while, maybe ten minutes at the most, with conversation sprinkled across the way, when suddenly Jungkook stopped before you. There was a glow in the air before him, from a source you couldn’t see but could tell wasn’t the moons. He spun, grasping both your hands in his with unadulterated excitement, before his actions seemed to catch up to him and he faltered slightly.

Even when they were coyly flicking from your own to your surroundings, Jungkook’s large, dark eyes were intense in their own right. A part of you, a large part of you, wanted to explore their depths, upturn each and every secret and covet the emotions there, the desires there, as your own. You tried to ignore that feeling, because with each time you met this boy’s eyes, each day you spent in his care, it grew a little bigger, a little stronger, and a little closer to swallowing you whole.

“This is it,” Jungkook’s voice was soft against your ears, but still clear over the sounds around you from a forest that was alive in the night. His teeth sank into his lip and you tried, you tried not to focus on it. “This is the place. I hope you like it.”

With that, he stepped aside so he no longer obscured your view, and at once your breath was stolen from your lungs.

It was stunning.

A lagoon, a pond of sorts, lay before your eyes in one of the most ethereal sights you were sure you would ever see. It glimmered and glowed, inky depths broken by a smattering of luminescent turquoise and cerulean. The surface was still, a perfect reflection of the spread of stars decorating the skies above, but within its depths there was movement— colours shifting, twirling, swirling. Shapes shimmered and wavered, the banks of the pond lined with luminescent mint vines and the surface sprinkled sparingly with violet lilies covered in luminous navy markings, the pads beneath them deep greens. You hadn’t realised the trance you’d slipped into in the face of such raw, untouched beauty, until Jungkook’s soft tone was gracing your ears once more.

“The stars in the pond,” he said, voice much closer to your ear than you remembered it being. “They’re a rare bioluminescent algae, one that the fish adore.”

You realised belatedly that was what the shapes where— fish, beautiful and decorative with long, billowing fins that trailed behind them like ribbon behind a dancer.

Jungkook grasped your hand once more, leading you over to a well-worn space on the ground, the fine soil much softer against your feet and cool to the touch. He sank down, tugging you with him and delivering you with a wide-eyed, imploring look you couldn’t have denied even if you wanted to. You sat beside him, your feet just inches shy of the pond edge when you extended your legs.

For a while, you didn’t speak. There was an understanding between you, both of you simply sitting and admiring the beauty before you, the ambiance and serenity such a sight elicited within your very soul, and the comfort of the other’s presence. You couldn’t say how long you sat there, watching, mesmerised, as the fishes danced in the pond, twirling and tangling around each other before splitting and darting to find another partner. You couldn’t recall a time you’d felt so relaxed, so at ease, so utterly soothed.

“What do you think?”

A soft querie, so gentle against your ears, that reminded you of the fact you hadn’t told Jungkook what you thought of the place yet. You’d been too distracted, too entranced.

“I love it,” for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak above a whisper. Your eyes remained on the pond, and you could feel that his did too. “It’s beautiful.”

Jungkook hummed, a melodic sound, a controlled sound against the gentle wilderness gracing your ears. “I come here to think,” he repeated his words from earlier. “It’s calm, and soothing… It soothes me.”

You could see why. Mouth falling open as you prepared to ask another question, you turned your gaze to him and halted as it met his own. At once it was as though you entered your own pocket of time, the pond, the forest, the skies, and even the palace in the distance all inconsequential when you were face to face with him, like this.

The air that had been brewing between you all evening thickened, tensed and charged, and you could feel it coming to a head as you finally lost yourself in his gaze— and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Already so close to him, his face lowered and something soft brushed your cheek, his thumb, palm cupping your jaw, and you had a split-second more to gaze upon the beauty of him before his lips were on yours and your eyes fluttered closed.

Your heart raced against your ribs, Jungkook kissing you with such—such something, everything, that it stole the breath straight from your lungs and returned it in the span of a heartbeat. Something burned within you, set alight by the soft touch of his lips against your own, the searing press of his mouth against yours and the brush of his firm chest against your breasts. You parted, hardly a second left to catch your breath before his hand slipped to the back of your head and his fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of your neck and you were lost in him once more.

There was urgency behind his kiss this time, lips pressing and moving firmly, eagerly against your own in his hunger to devour more of you. His mouth parted, tongue brushing the sensitive flesh of your own and you trembled, the softest, slightest of wines escaping you as you allowed him entrance. His body shifted, hovering over your own as he rested his weight on his elbow and his free hand found your waist, slipping beneath the material of your shirt and causing a shudder to roll down the length of your spine at the cool sensation and the way it made your stomach flip.

He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth as your hands found his hips and your thumbs pressed into the flesh, heart soaring as you relished the low moan it elicited from him. Your fingers slid against the smooth of his skin, pushing beneath the material of his shirt and clutching at his sides as he pressed your back to the ground gently and shifted above you.

Your mind was spinning, surprising amounts of pleasure thrumming beneath your skin at his every touch, his every noise, his every shift against you. His teeth found your lip and you couldn’t help the sharp gasp that escaped you, or the way it melted into a soft moan. His hold on you tightened possessively, hips pressing deliciously against your own as your thighs parted for him.

The noises you were both making only served to feed the fires blazing through your veins, hands searching, clutching, grasping for something to hold onto, something to tether you to the here and now as Jungkook kissed you so deeply your mind threatened to erase everything else. Your fingers pressed, kneading, over his hips and up his sides, down his back from his shoulders until your fingertips encountered something other than smooth, cool skin. The tentative brushes of your fingers over the peculiar, slippery sensation and the strange indentation in Jungkook’s skin were interrupted as he moaned against your lips, hand rising up beneath your shirt for his nimble fingers to brush over your nipple and bare the underside of your breast to the cool air as your shirt caught on his wrist. You gasped, grasp tightening reflexively and fingers pressing as a result into the slits they’d discovered lining Jungkook’s lower back. A sudden, loud moan tore from the King’s throat, a rough gasp catching on his next breath as his hips rolled against yours and the resulting flush of pleasure had your head swimming and your own whine entering the air to entwine with his.

The movement jerked your thoughts back to the present, and all at once reality seemed to catch up to you. Seokjin’s words echoed in your head, out of place but a stark reminder—Kelkie have Fate Marks, Kelkie have Fated Ones… Kelkie have soul mates.

Jungkook was a King, and he had a soulmate, someone he was fated— destined— to be with, and here you were seducing him on the forest floor. It was like you’d been doused in icy water, something crumpling in your chest as you pulled back, the both of you gasping for breath as Jungkook rested his forehead against your own.

Your teeth found your swollen lip before your eyes opened and met his heady gaze, catching the question in their depths.

“You have a soulmate,” was all you could whisper in answer. Jungkook’s gaze remained trained on you despite the shock reflected in his irises at your words. “You have a Fated One. We can’t…”

Contrary to what you’d expected as a reaction to your words, Jungkook smiled softly. His head dipped, face pressing against the skin of your neck, and he adjusted you both so you were both reclining, his arm around your waist.

“Kelkie are free to take lovers before the emergence of their Fate Mark,” Jungkook murmured against your skin, his words bringing further heat to your flushed cheeks as he slipped the hand that had been on your chest lower, fixing your shirt as he went, to rest his palm securely over your tummy, fingers tracing patterns into your skin. You shivered. “But beside that, in my case, you don’t… need to worry.”

Your head tilted questioningly, but his face remained nuzzled comfortably against your neck. He let out a sigh, a moment passing before he continued, “I’m sure Seokjin let it slip by now if you already know about our Fated Ones, but I got my mark early. That… wasn’t the only thing different to how it usually goes.”

“We know our Fated Ones by our matching marks and an inexplicable draw to each other, but I… my mark does not match that of anyone in my kingdom, anyone on this planet. My mark is different in nature to the usual for Kelkie. No one was drawn to the palace, to me, as it had happened for my parents before me, and their parents before them,” Jungkook was silent a moment, the slightest quaver present in his tone. “I’m the very first Kelkie to take the throne so young, to get the mark so young, and I’m the very first Kelkie without a Fated One.”

It took several long moments for his words to catch up to you, your grip on him tightening once they finally did. A soft gasp fell from your lips. “You don’t…? Jungkook…”

He didn’t say anything more, merely humming against your neck and relishing in the feel of you in his arms, the comfort you provided, the warmth. You didn’t speak— you couldn’t find anything to say.

You simply held him in your arms, soothing him where he lay, and together the two of you relaxed against the other until the first inklings of dawn began to peep over the horizon, and you made your way back to the palace, hand in hand.

x x x x x x x x

A week passed since the night of the dinner, the night you’d ventured outside the palace to the pond with Jungkook. Nothing else had happened, but the two of you were closer now— you felt it when you met his gaze across the room, when he offered a smile that had happiness curling in your gut and your heart swelling. You thought that Seokjin and Jimin might have noticed it too, if their sly, knowing expressions when they caught you looking at each other were anything to go by.

The lunar event Jimin had told you of, the Lunar Null, was set to happen in a week’s time. With each night you watched as the moons grew closer and closer together, feeling a certain anticipation build up within you for the day they would align. You were extremely curious about the event, and when Jimin had mentioned there was a festival in each town on the night it occurred to celebrate it, you couldn’t deny the urge that rose within you to go and see it for yourself.

You were currently doing your nightly stargazing, or rather moongazing, leaning against the large window in your room to peer up at the glimmering skies. Honestly, it was late, and you should have been asleep, but your mind had been whirring nonstop all week— a new thought crossed your mind every two seconds and you’d follow down that train until you reached a dead end, at which point another thought would make itself known and the process would begin all over again. It was strange for you, since you were historically someone who hadn’t ever really had trouble sleeping, and now here you were unable to rest, at the mercy of your thoughts and overactive mind.

Being awake longer meant there was more time to become aware of your body’s needs, the ones usually masked at this time by sleep. You’d been thirsty for a while, but had ignored it for the most part. It was getting to be a fairly prominent sensation, however, and you finally couldn’t take the dry, sticky feeling in your mouth any longer. An inspection of the water bottle by your bed told you your stores were empty, and so with a sigh you left your room, heading in the direction of the kitchens. You’d become familiar with the palace over the weeks, but the kitchens were one of the only places you knew how to find. As soon as Seokjin had told you their whereabouts you’d made yourself very acquainted with the path to and from that side of the palace.

The walk there was, expectedly, uneventful. The halls were quiet and barren, something you attributed to the late hour at which you were making the trip. You found yourself easily becoming lost in your thoughts once more along the way, succumbing to the whirling mess that had been overtaking your mind the past week.

If you were being honest, the topic of your deep musings was almost always Jungkook.

How he looked at you, the way he made you feel, how tenderly he treated you, touched you— and what he’d said that night, what you’d done. You were overwhelmed by it all, trying to sort though it bit by bit and how you felt. It was something that at this stage, you honestly didn’t know.

Sooner than you’d anticipated, you reached the large door marking the entrance to the kitchens, and without a second thought you were pushing it open, taking two steps into the large room before freezing as your eyes fell upon a figure seated at one of the long, large tables.

The very object of your tumultuous thoughts, the Kelkie King, sat towards the end of the bench, head resting on his palm and gaze directed down at the table. His markings were a deep, murky blue scattered against his golden skin, and there was a glass of water and a dessert by his elbow, looking sad with only small few chunks taken out of it before it was seemingly left unwanted and discarded.

He was so taken in his own musings he didn’t even notice you were there until you slipped onto the seat next to him, tone soft, “Jungkook?”

He started, stiffening where he sat on the bench, gaze shooting to you— but you noticed even when his eyes met yours, his marks didn’t shift far from that deep, swimming blue. A part of you realised instantly that something was off with him.

“y/n,” he nearly stuttered, blinking at you. You knew something was wrong if he didn’t use the nickname he was so fond of— you didn’t think you’d ever heard him call you by name before now.

You watched him silently for a moment, analysing his features, the depths of his dark eyes that seemed to swim with emotions too deep and murky for you to make out. It would seem you weren’t the only one kept awake by your thoughts this night.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned, deciding it was better to get straight to the point. Jungkook seemed alarmed you’d picked up on his mood so quickly. “You seem… down. And your marks, I’ve never seen them this colour before.”

Jungkook’s cheeks tinged pink at your last comment, the fact you’d paid attention to him enough to notice his marks so much, but he couldn’t muster a smile. A soft exhale left him, and his gaze turned back to the table— only now did you notice the large locket sitting upon the dark wood, opened and displaying a portrait of two dark-haired Kelkie and a child in their loving hold. It didn’t take you long to realise that the child was Jungkook, and the adults—

“My parents,” he mumbled, blinking at the portrait. “They have been gone a while but… I miss them.”

You waited patiently, hand resting beside his on the table, for him to continue at his own pace. You looked to the people in the locket, his parents, and couldn’t help but note just how much he looked like them. Just like Jungkook, his parents had been beautiful. You couldn’t help the part of you that wondered what had happened to them.

“I usually do not think about them so much, miss them so much, but with the Lunar Null so close, in only a week’s time….” Jungkook’s teeth found his lip as he blinked once more, shoulders hunching slightly. “It is a powerful event. The last time there was a Lunar Null, was when my parents…”

He halted, turning to you, a smile tugging his lips that was absent of any humour. “You are probably confused, right? You do not know what happened to my parents.”

“A little, yeah,” you admitted, placing your hand on his arm and offering a soft look that you hoped conveyed your understanding. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Jungkook shrugged, gaze returning to the locket for a moment before his eyes slid closed. “It is fine. There is no reason you should not know.”

You waited, silent as he let out a soft breath before his eyes reopened and sought yours once more— the inklings of pain swimming in their depths gripped your heart firmly and threatened to crumple it in its grasp. His voice trembled almost indiscernibly as he spoke, “Kelkie are all linked in some way, through a dormant hive mind type of method. The rulers, my bloodline, are even more so. When the heir comes of age, they take the throne and a process is set in motion. It happens over years, but when the heir comes of age they begin to grow more powerful, drawing this energy from their own parents. Eventually, the parents waste away. It is the way things are.”

Your mind reeled as he continued. “Kelkie come of age at twenty. We receive our Fate Mark at twenty-five, the final telling of our entry into adulthood.”

He dragged his finger over the wood of the table, nail scraping slightly and his brows furrowing. “You have probably noticed by now, probably heard, that things have not ever gone for me the way they have for others. As a child, the court called me a prodigy. I completed my training, my schooling, with flying colours. I excelled in combat and using my abilities. I used to be proud of it, but possessing so much so early…”

His brows furrowed further. “Everything happened earlier for me. I did not come of age at twenty, but at sixteen. I did not get my Fate Mark at twenty-five, but five years before I should have.”

His hand came to subconsciously rub his throat where it was covered by the material of his shirt. “Everything was different, for me. When I came of age, a Lunar Null was set to transpire only a week from the day. It is powerful alone, but combined with the nature of my already hastened growth… my parents did not last years. They wasted away within the week, a-and I…”

Jungkook’s words caught in his throat, teeth finding his lip once more as he blinked down at the locket, unable to push the words from his tongue. Your thoughts meshed, connecting all he’d told you so far and your heart ached deep in your chest.

“You were left alone, with more power than you’d ever handled before, and no one to help you, to teach you what to do with it,” you finished softly, grip on his arm tightening as he turned to you with wide eyes, surprised reflected in their depths. He nodded.

“Seokjin and Jimin have been with me since we were children,” he started, holding your gaze a moment before it returned forward. “But it feels like… the fates, the universe, have destined me for a lonely path. My parents were gone sooner than they should have been, I am the first Kelkie without a soulmate, and Seokjin and Jimin are my friends, my brothers, but… it’s not the same.”

He sniffled, muffling a soft curse and giving you a somewhat sheepish look. In his moment of weakness the accent that had been fading in strength came back almost in full force. “I am not usually so weak, but next week will be the first Lunar Null since that time and… it has brought up a lot of memories, I suppose. I miss… what I used to have, and I think… I miss what I can’t have, what I won’t ever have, too.”

You didn’t have words for how badly you felt for him, for the tremendous ache in your heart or the sting in your eyes. You hadn’t ever gotten so emotional over someone else’s situation before, but for some reason, when it was with Jungkook, it felt normal.

You lifted your arm around his broad shoulders, resting your cheek on the one closest to you and pushing your side against his. He turned to face you, surprised.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you murmured, rubbing his arm softly. “I’m sorry. I mean, I was an orphan, but knowing your parents so long only to have them disappear from your life so suddenly… I’m sorry. I don’t think anyone really deserves that.”

You could feel the slight tremble in his limbs as you comforted him, continuing when he didn’t speak. “But everything that has happened to you has helped you grow, you’re free to do whatever you want, become whatever you want—already you’ve become someone remarkable. I think your parents would no doubt be proud of you. You work hard, you’re a good ruler, you’re just and fair— I mean you could have killed me and Taehyung when we crashed here, but you gave us a chance… you’re kind. There’s a lot to like about you, Jungkook, and I think your parents would be proud of how far you’ve come and who you’ve become without them.”

You could feel his hand come to clutch the shirt at your waist as you continued, voice soft as it graced the air, “And the universe can try and give you a lonely life, but you’ll always have people around you that care for you, and love you. Even if you feel lonely, you won’t ever be alone.”

Jungkook sniffled slightly, turning so he could bring you into his hold more, arms curling around you and his face pressing against your neck and shoulder. “What did I ever do to get such praise from you, little human?”

His tone was still shaky, but you could tell he was trying to lighten the mood a bit, searching for a way to express his gratitude since he didn’t know how. You smiled, chin resting on his shoulder. “You’re always worthy of praise, Jungkook.”

His grip on you tightened for a moment, and you could feel his back trembling against your arms as he exhaled shakily. It was silent as the both of you revelled in the other’s touch; the warmth, the comfort your embrace brought. It was minutes later when Jungkook’s voice sounded against your ear once more.

“Thank you, y/n.”

You smiled. You’d happily comfort him again. There was a part of you that ached and wailed at his sadness, that yearned for his happiness, and with each day, each moment you spent with him and in his arms—

That part of you grew a little stronger.

x x x x x x x

The air of the night was unusually cool against your skin, the close hour to midnight meaning there had been ample time for the heat of the day to fade from the air. You were being led through the luminescent forest once more, a firm hand clasping yours and a bright smile on Jungkook’s face as he directed you both between trees and through glowing foliage.

It was the night of the Lunar Null, and earlier in the day Jungkook had mysteriously told you to meet him outside your room later, dressed to go out. You’d been somewhat confused— he’d left before you could question what he was up to— but had done what he asked nonetheless. An hour or so after dinner you waited outside your rooms, and he’d arrived not long after with bright eyes and a smile to match, his marks soft violet against his skin.

“Come, little human,” he’d spoken with a grin, taking your hand in his and entwining your fingers instinctively. “Let us go, before we miss the festivities.”

“Festivities?” you echoed, excitement beginning to bloom in your chest as you hastened to walk beside him. Your peered up, meeting his gaze. “What festivities?”

Jungkook’s head tilted, raven locks falling delicately over his forehead— you were surprised to note the lack of circlet, and as you surveyed the rest of his form you found he wasn’t wearing the usual embroidered cloth but pieces that were plainer, less notable. He wore only a few bands and rings around his arms, plain and thick instead of delicate and engraved. You wondered why he’d dressed down so much, and what it had to do with ‘festivities’ he’d mentioned.

“For the Lunar Null,” he smiled softly, and surprise filled you. “There are celebrations, festivities in the closest town.”

You were sure your surprise was displayed across your face plainly for him to see. He was taking you to see the festivities, even though they were for an event that reminded him only of things he had lost? You’d seen firsthand how this event had affected him, yet here he was, grasping your hand and taking you to the nearest town so you could see the festival for yourself. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Are you sure?”

He blinked, before his gaze softened and his smattering of freckles warmed to rose red, cheeks pink beneath them. “Yes, I am sure,” he said softly, grip on your hand tightening. “I considered what you said that night, and decided I want to make the most of this— the Lunar Null brings only bad memories for me, but I wish to replace them with new ones, better ones, with you.”

You were wrought speechless, mouth falling open in shock as you heart gave two heavy thuds before kicking into overdrive and fluttering hastily against your ribcage. Happiness, warmth, and something else bloomed in your chest and you couldn’t have stopped the stupid grin from spreading over your face even if you tried.

“Okay,” you breathed, searching for something to say to convey what you were feeling and coming up blank as your eyes held his. “Thank you.”

He grinned, a boyish action that highlighted his youth once more to you, and sped his pace up. “You are welcome, little human. Now hurry, I wish to show you the festival.”

He’d led you through the forest one more, explaining that the festival didn’t take place in the actual town, but in the forest around it since it was considered sacred and connected to the moons. He continued providing you with information about the event and you listened eagerly, unable to stop smiling as you stepped after him. Many twists and turns later, there was a glow ahead that didn’t belong to any of the plants— it reminded you of the glow given off by the crystals the Kelkie used to light the palace. Jungkook turned to flash you a grin, then he was tugging you forward and both of you broke from the treeline.

The sight before you stole the air from your lungs on your next breath, a sheer sense of wonderment settling within you as you gazed about the clearing that was illuminated, as you thought, by crystals hung along string and thin rope like ‘fairy lights’ back on Earth. Your eyes didn’t know what to focus on first. There were booths, vendors selling things to do with the moons and the eclipse, and there were games— you could see small children running about in cute masks, passing coins to adults and trying their luck. The air was charged with a certain something, and you could only describe it as magic. It was foreign, but in the best way; you’d never been somewhere so peaceful and full of joyful anticipation. These were the people of Jungkook’s kingdom, and they were happy. You were sure your eyes shone as they moved back the male beside you, taking in the soft smile upon his face as he gazed over the clearing full of festivities and celebration.

You opened your mouth, words on the tip of your tongue, when he turned and beamed at you. “Come on, let us get our masks.”

“Masks?” you echoed, blinking as he brought you over to the closest stall that had an assortment of lunar themed masks. He nodded, peering over the selection before him, analysing the colours and shape of each one.

“Yes,” he answered, gaze halting over two to the corner. He reached up, the muscles in his back shifting as he grasped the masks and eased them down. His gaze flew to your face as he compared it to the masks. “It is tradition to wear masks during a Lunar Null, although I’m not sure where it originated.”

The masks in his grasp were beautiful. They were masquerade-style, covering the top half of the face only with shaped holes for the eyes, and covered in the silken material you’d come to associate with the Kelkie. Atop of that, they were studded with tiny gems and crystals in intricate, twirling patterns. Jungkook held up one up to your face, a deep wine-coloured one that matched well with its obsidian partner, a bright look instantly crossing his face.

“Beautiful,” he murmured distractedly, before immediately turning to the vendor who was running the stall and speaking in his native tongue. You were surprised at the sound of the clicks and trills of Jungkook’s language, considering it had been a long while since you’d heard it, but couldn’t deny how nice it sounded against your ears when it was spoken in his soothing timbre.

The vendor smiled, uttering a pleased-sounding response and Jungkook grinned, taking out a small pouch from a pocket in his pants and retrieving several coins, placing them in the vendor’s hand. The old man smiled, eyes flicking to you for a moment as Jungkook tucked the pouch away and grasped the masks, before he spoke once more.

Jungkook chuckled, throwing a response back before he grasped your hand and tugged you to a free space. He undid the silken ribbon at the back of the wine-coloured mask and held it up to your face, spinning you around so he could tie it at the back.

You couldn’t help your curiosity, “What did he say?”

Jungkook chuckled from behind you, turning you back around with gentle hands on your shoulders. His eyes swept over your face and the mask now adorning it, marks flushing deep rose. His eyes glimmered as they met yours.

“He said to have fun,” the King beamed, slipping his own mask on and tying it skilfully behind his head before you even had a chance to offer your help. “To enjoy the festivities, and try the drinks by the last stall on the right.”

Your mouth fell open at the sight of him, the obsidian of the mask matching his raven hair and dark eyes, highlighting the darker parts of his deep burgundy clothes. You didn’t think you would ever get used to how beautiful he was. You had to physically shake your head a bit to get your thoughts back on track.

“Oh,” you murmured, a smile slipping onto your face as you recovered from your shock at the stunning sight of him. “Then we should probably do that.”

Jungkook grinned, and then he was taking your hand once more, leading you further into the festival and celebrating townspeople. A peek at the sky told you that the Lunar Null would happen soon, the moons almost unbearably close together— you were burning with the desire to see them align, and the planet’s shadow to pass over them.

The two of you stopped by many stalls, Jungkook showing you how to play the games and playing with you when the rules allowed. You won a fair amount of times, receiving small wrapped spheres Jungkook informed you were candy, but Jungkook won more. Although, in the end, he ended up giving you half of his hoard, falling victim to your puppy eyes.

Eventually you made it to the last stall on the right, Jungkook obtaining the drinks the old man had mentioned from the vendor with a blinding smile and turning to you with a charming smile. The liquid shimmered in the cups, a luminescent blue that should have concerned you but at this point hardly phased you. Jungkook tapped your cup before downing it and you followed suit, the fluid cool against your tongue and a peculiar combination of sour and enticing sweet blooming on your tastebuds. You’d assumed it was alcoholic in nature, and weren’t surprised when the tell-tale aftertaste hit your tongue.

You didn’t have long to process it, your attention being drawn almost immediately away from the drink you’d just downed and towards your left, past the stalls, where the enticing sound of drums and instruments lured you closer. Noticing the direction of your attention, Jungkook grinned and threaded his fingers through yours once more, leading you over.

To your delight, it wasn’t just music, but a performance too. A large circle of space was cleared for the dancers in silk and ribbons as they moved around like they weighed nothing more than a feather, forms entwining and parting with such fluidity and grace you had to blink and wonder if you were really witnessing it with your own two eyes. The drums beat in a symphony that echoed through your being and called to a deeper, more primal part of you, a mixture of instruments adding to the beat and drawing you deeper, deeper, deeper. A crowd surrounded the circle, hands clapping in unison and urging the beat faster, faster, faster. Those that didn’t clap were dancing along, turns and twists that looked too complicated for your eyes to keep up with. The dancers tilted and spun, movements led by their feet, then their hips, their hands, silken ribbons trailing behind in a shadow of where they’d been just moments before. Another drink met your hands, breaking your trance, and even though there was a haze beginning to skirt the edges of your mind you felt nothing but security, safety, warmth with Jungkook by your side. A large smile split your lips as you met his eyes, and the two of you downed another.

The moons grew closer still in the sky, beginning to infringe upon the other, and when the beat hurried and shifted, more percussion instruments added into the mix and a sound oddly similar to a flute carrying the tune. Jungkook’s hand grasped yours and he was tugging you from the density of the crowd, to a space still within view, and he began to move.

Perhaps, at another time, another day, you would have been embarrassed, too shy to participate, but now… the mirth, sheer joy glimmering in Jungkook’s eyes was more than enough to convince you. You allowed him to take both your hands, and you allowed your body to move and sway, to follow the beat and echo the movements of the male in front of you.

He grinned, leading you with ease, and spun you out to reel you back in, planting a soft kiss on the tip of your nose as you grew close enough. Warmth and affection bloomed in your chest, and you couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you at his action, the sound bordering on a giggle. You continued to dance alone, dipping with the drop in the beat, spinning when it increased, and each time you came back to Jungkook’s chest he would plant another kiss on your face. Your cheeks, your nose, your chin— you were swimming in a haze of him and each press of his lips, so soft against your skin, pushed you deeper, and deeper, and deeper.

As the moons neared their alignment the music and drums began to work towards the climax of the night, a crescendo just over the horizon, and you were lost in the flow of movement with Jungkook. His hands moved from your own to your waist, your hips, his own pressing against yours as you dipped back, so far back that when you returned upright your head swam in the most peculiarly addictive of ways. Jungkook never stopped smiling, cheeks pink beneath the mask and marks alight in all the warmth, the beautiful colours of a sunset on Earth.

There was a haze over your mind, touching, caressing your thoughts and through it you barely registered as the music came to a looming crescendo and at once your gaze was directed upwards. The moons were aligned, and you watched, mesmerised, as the shadow of Kilkhea crept over it, rendering the inky skies a moonless sea of stars and galaxies. A grip on your waist, your hip, tugged you, tethered you to the here and now and you were tilting your head down just in time for Jungkook’s palms to cup your jaw and bring your face forward.

His lips met yours as the last booming beat of the drums ricocheted through your chest and warmth was blooming beneath your skin, your hands coming to cup his cheeks. Beneath a moonless sky, you became lost in him— the sound, the touch, the feel, the warmth, the sensation of every part of him enveloping every part of you — and even as his lips parted from yours, breath hurried and gasping, you couldn’t bring yourself to mind.

The shadow left the moons and one by one they graced the sky once more, the drums beginning anew with another beat, a different beat. Jungkook leant, capturing your lips once more before he was dancing away, grinning with all the glee and joy you would expect of a child, new and innocent to the world. Another drink found its way into your hands and you downed it once more, head swimming and skin alight with the remnants of his touch scorching pleasure over your limbs. Your mark sang as he grasped you and once more, you fell into the beat.

You danced into the early hours of the morning, drinks aiding the thick, pleasant haze over your mind, and eventually you both found your way back to the palace.

You stumbled into a room— was it yours?— with the King’s hands on your waist to steady your wobbling steps, and as one you collapsed onto the large bed. A soft, pleased sigh escaped you as the cool of the sheets brushed your flushed skin, Jungkook’s arm winding around your waist and tugging you close, his body cool against your back as he quickly fell into sleep.

You were out before you could even think to process it.

x x x

When you awoke, it was to a slight headache, tired limbs, and the soft sound of snores beside you. You could tell from the ache in your eyes that you hadn’t gotten much sleep, and noted from the bright light seeping through the open window to your left that it had to have been somewhere around mid-morning. You blinked, trying to…. Wait. You looked to the window again. It was on your left, but the window in your room was on the right of the bed…

At the gentle nudge to your thoughts, your mind flooded with a sudden barrage of images and memories from the night before, a feeling of warmth accompanying them. The festival, the Lunar Null, Jungkook… You vaguely remembered the trip back to the palace, enough to know that the two of you crashed pretty much as soon as you hit the bed. Your gaze flicked to your side, mind suddenly registering the weight of an arm curled possessively over your waist and a face pressed into your neck.

At once, you were reminded of the way you felt last night, the warmth, the elation… the love. You weren’t surprised to find yourself filled with similar emotions right now. You found yourself nuzzling into Jungkook’s hold before you even knew it, turning in his grip to face him more. You were going to miss this… your heart ached at just the thought. You froze, a sudden realisation falling over you and rendering you immobile.

Here, surrounded by the alluring scent of him, the warmth and security of his hold, the tenderness of his embrace— there was a part of you, a very big part of you, that didn’t want to leave. A big part of you that wanted to abandon everything, all of your worries, and stay here, with Jungkook. A big part of you that, even in so little time, had fallen for Jungkook, the Kelkie King, and was continuing to fall with each second longer you spent in his presence, in his embrace, in the warmth of his gaze as he regarded you.

Your head throbbed, too much thought activity going on for so early in the morning and after as many drinks as you’d had last night. Your eyes closed as you waited for the throbbing to ease, and they reopened when it did, your gaze falling upon Jungkook’s form.

You couldn’t deny the existence of such a big part of you, but still… what did you do, knowing what you did now?

You didn’t have an answer, couldn’t bring yourself to think of one, and decided instead to just relax, and relish this while you could. You allowed your eyes to slip closed once more as you pressed a soft kiss to the top of Jungkook’s head. This was something you could worry about another day, tomorrow, when you were done appreciating all you currently had in your hold.

As your thoughts began to drift and you fell into sleep once more, you couldn’t have ever known what tomorrow would bring.

masterlist | moodboard | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | complete

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musicallisto · 6 years

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Bonjour Belle✨, Can I know more about your ES MC with the MC ask game? ✨

Thanks for asking! I love talking about my OCs until I annoy the heck out of people ^^

#01. Name? Any nickname? Taylor Hera Montgomery-McKenzie, although she doesn’t know she has a middle name. It isn’t written on any of the paperwork involving her since her birth, adding to the mysteries surrounding her. Hera, in addition to being a mythological figure, of course, is also said to derive from the Greek ‘ηρως (heros) “hero, warrior”; ‘ωρα (hora) “period of time"; or ‘αιρεω (haireo) “to be chosen”. Those three ideas combined pretty much sum up her personality and fate.

#02. Birthday? As her file says, she was born on January 1st on La Huerta.

#03. What’s their family like? She has lost all rememberance of her family. It started bothering her more and more as time passed on the island. When she got on that plane, she clearly remembered her parents, her father’s kind smile and her mother’s warm eyes, her little brother’s cheerful enthusiasm, but the more time she spent on La Huerta, the less she thought about them and the more those colors and laughs started to blur as though the island was having some tricky effect on her mind - or perhaps it was revealing the true nature of what she deeply considered as her memories and her history. She has only confessed those doubts to Jake during their honeymoon, but brushed it off lightly, not wanting to kill the mood between her husband and her, and aware he could do nothing about it.

#04. Relationship status? She is handfasted to Jake McKenzie, which can be considered as a marriage despite not being one in the Western norm.

#05. Top 3 songs?

3. Enrique Iglesias - Bailando2. Amaral - Alerta1. Muse - Unintended

She’s definitely one for what people would consider “guilty pleasure music”. She loves all genres, but has always had a soft spot for reggaeton and hispanophonic music in general, whether it be from South America or Spain. Spanish is a language that she’s always felt drawn to, maybe because of its warm and sensual sound. Alerta is a song she finds utterly beautiful, despite not understanding any of the lyrics at first. If you hear her humming a tune, that’s probably the “ale ale, ale ale alerta”s from the chorus. And Unintended… Unintended reminds her of her adolescence, when she went through her rock phase like almost every 90′s kid - the thing she’s never quite gotten out of it, and fell utterly in love with this band and this particular song when she was fifteen. It reminds her of her relationship with Jake every time she listens to it and always manages to soothe her.

#06. Fave book? Taylor is one for mystery, thriller and science-fiction. She’s in love with Agatha Christie’s books, always been, so it’s clear that her favorite book of all time is Ten Little Niggers, a novel that is so different from everything she’s ever read before. The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux is a very close second though. She didn’t think she would like it that much when she first picked it up, usually not that interested in romance nor historical fiction, but it became her number two through the years thanks to the deep, complex personalities of the characters and the mystery surrounding the phantom.

#07. Fave movie? Although the Phantom of the Opera adaptation from 2001 holds a special place in her heart because of how much she adored the book, her favorite movie is Silence of the Lambs.

#08. Fave show? She’s never watched a lot of TV-shows, but if she had to choose one, it would be Black Mirror, which she never finished because of her life-changing trip.

#09. Hobbies? Swimming. She’s a very strong swimmer, it’s her favorite sport and what she’s always done when she needs to get her mind off of things a little bit. She’s never participated in any competitions though. She also used to practise horse-riding when she was little, but stopped when she entered middle school.

#10. What Perfect Match type would they be? She is the Leader. She has that little something that makes all people instantly confide in her and trust her to make the best decisions and guide them through the storms. She’s most comfortable when in command.

#11. Biggest guilty pleasure? As I mentioned before, it’s all about Latino music! She doesn’t personally consider it a guilty pleasure, just songs that are often played at parties and nowhere else, but she loves to have a little Gente de Zona dance party on her own. She’s a terrible dancer, but that doesn’t stop her from enjoying it, right?

#12. Deepest darkest secret? Apart from being the Endless, she doesn’t remember anything very huge, and her life as she remembers it has always been pretty uneventful and calm. Nobody knows that she has stolen money from some of her classmates in high school when she was in very tough times. It’s not something she’s proud of, and wouldn’t really mind if that shameful memory turned out to be a scam.

#13. Fave childhood memory? She remembers when she went to Disney World in Florida with her parents and her brother - she must have been six or seven, and insisted on going on every. single. ride. much to her parents’ dismay, they were dragged by her brother and her all around the park, but that’s still Taylor’s most prized memory.

#14. Sweet or savoury? Savory, and if possible, spicy.

#15. Hogwarts house? She is a Gryffindor through and through!

#16. Fave food? Argentinan parrilla! More commonly known as grill, but Argentinan parrilla sounds better to her, and Argentinan steak is definitely the best of all.

#17. Fave drink? She doesn’t like sodas, so she would stick to water or lemonade most of the time, but she is also a great mojito fan.

#18. Most treasured possession? A quartz necklace her mother offered her when she turned eighteen, something that has passed through her family for generations and generations. She doesn’t know if everything in her past is false, but at least the necklace isn’t, securely resting on her neck.

#19. Their goals for the future? She wants to escape this hell of an island, spend a few years away from everything by the shore with her husband while helping him clear his name and attending college to finally graduate - then find a stable career and maybe have kids.

#20. Dog-lover or cat-lover? She’s a dog lover! Dogs are better than anything or anyone in her opinion. She doesn’t necessarily hate cats, but she does dislike their tendency to be very independent and snobbish at times.

#21. Early bird or night owl? She’s a night owl. She has no trouble being awake past midnight, but is unable to wake up before seven in the morning. Ever. E v e r.

#22. How do they relax after a bad day? She takes a bath, a long, hot shower or goes swimming in the pool. As I said before, she’s literally a fish in the water and that’s her element.

#23. What do they see as their biggest flaw? She’s aware of her tendency to be quite bossy. Accostumed to being the leader of her group of friends or in school projects, the respected older sister, and with lenient parents, it’s understandable that she would develop the tendency to think that she’s in the position to give orders to anyone. When meeting other strong, commanding personalities like Sean, it was obvious it would clash at first.

#24. And their greatest strength? On the other hand, she is cold-blooded and knows how not to lose her temper when facing a dangerous situation. She knows a lot about survival and feels at ease with responsibilities.

#25. Tragedy strikes! How do they handle a crisis? At first, she shuts everyone off, isolates herself and tries to think about it on her own, but not for long or she’s bound to go crazy or do something stupid. Most of the time, she tries not to show the effect it has on her, but it’s sometimes difficult to hide her feelings from people she’s with all the time.

#26. Coffee shop order? I’m not sure she really likes coffee, or at least, if she can avoid drinking it, she will. She often orders a hot chocolate instead.

#27. It’s Friday night and they’re home alone, what do they get up to? Probably go clubbing with friends or throw a party at her place! She loves music, she loves dancing, she loves being surrounded by people, so it’s the best alternative to concile those three things.

#28. Fave pizza toppings? There’s this pizza that has BBQ sauce, lardons and mushrooms… it’s her ultimate favorite.

#29. What would their superhero name be? Harley Quinn. She’s always liked the tortuous comics character and her complex relationship with the Joker, and their partner in crime-like dynamic reminds her of her complicity with her friends and especially with Jake - besides, Joker was the first nickname she gave him.

#30. What would their ideal day look like? Something adventurous, ourdoors, something out of the ordinary, a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Something like paragliding over the bay, or one of her biggest dreams: swimming in the open sea with marine animals.

#31. What did they want to be when they grew up? Has it changed? Believe it or not, when she was little, she wanted to be a firefighter. She’s always been attracted to the idea of helping other people and being in the heat of the action. After she grew up, she abandoned that idea and thought about becoming a doctor. She doesn’t mind what field, she’s sure about the fact that she wants to save people, whatever the cost is.

#32. Do they believe in ghosts? I mean, after being repeatedly saved by one, it’s a little hard not to. But even after La Huerta, a part of her always believed in them.

#33. Do they like amusement parks? oh YES she adores them and would spend DAYS in there if she could.

#34. How many pillows do they sleep with? Three. She likes to be comfortable when she’s sleeping and bury her face in the soft fabric.

#35. What song always gets them dancing? Bailando by Enrique Iglesias. No matter the context, she will always try a few flamenco moves (and fail).

#36. Fave boardgame? Mafia! She’s the one who proposes a game of Mafia at literally every party ever and therefore kills the mood with her childishness lol

#37. If they play Monopoly, what token are they? The ship. To blow up her enemies better, she says.

#38. What does their laugh sound like? High-pitched, a little airy and always with her infamous flirtatious notes.

#39. Describe their aesthetic. Dancing until four in the morning, summer nights and their infinity of stars, tipsily walking down the streets in the unholy hours of the morning, neon lights, cocktail umbrellas by the beach.

#40. Do they exercise? Yeah, she loves running and as I mentioned before, swimming, so she does both on a daily basis. She’s quite athletic, but absolutely not gracious or flexible. So forget everything about dancing or gymnastics.

#41. Fears? Waking up before seven a.m., essentially. Also, she’s terrified ogf being alone, she cannot stand solitude. And she’s never told anyone about her phobia of bugs. Especially wasps. Those creatures deserve hell. She will lose her mind if a wasp is around and try to find the closest source of water to avoid it. They’re the worst for her, and she’s already had panic attacks when being bothered by a wasp when she was little.

#42. Proudest achievement? Surviving La Huerta is already a good one, but apart from that, running 500m in 1′31 minutes when she was eighteen. She hasn’t been able to beat that record ever since, and it’s safe to stay she will never do it again… unless she’s chased down by a horde of zombies.

#43. Fave type of weather? Sunny! She hates the cold and can’t stand foggy weather.

#44. Fave animal? I can see her really liking small monkeys, malicious and clever, but her favorite animal of all of them is the tiger. There’s something so majestic and venerable about them.

#45. Do they like fairytales? She loved them as a kid, but they remained in her childhood. Let’s say she doesn’t care about them that much.

#46. Describe them in 3 words. Fierce piña colada. That’s it. That’s Taylor.

#47. Biggest pet peeve? Slow walkers. she’s always moving, jumping, hyperactive, she has to have space to move.

#48. Hobbies? Swimming, dancing, running - she used to take some guitar lessons when she was younger, but basically only remembers how to play the intro riff of Come As You Are and it’s a very, very painful process.

#49. Extrovert or introvert? Extrovert! That doesn’t mean she can’t be shy in some situations, but she feels more at ease when she’s around a large group of people.

#50. Random headcanon She’s never been to a music festival, nor a concert for that matter. She promised herself she would go one summer to Reading Festival or Coachella with Diego, but never got the chance to do it. It’s one of her biggest regrets when she’s stuck on La Huerta.

MC questionnaire!

#mc appreciation week #pixelberry #playchoices #endless summer #ask

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koushirouizumi · 3 years

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REPEATVERSE Standalone: Ten

Title: Ten Type: Fanfiction / Shortfic / Not-quite Drabble Wordcount: 502 words Genre: Angst {maybe with an outcome aiming towards better but} Characters/Pairing: Taishiro [Taichi x Koushiro] {implied/referenced} [from Koushiro’s side]; Koushiro & Daisuke friendship Verse(s): Post-Advs/02 (can also be post-Tri/Kizuna) Rating: PG-15ish / it’s s.f.w, but {implied/psuedo} injuries are referenced, heed warnings please Notes: some Specific Headcanons are heavily implied technically part of REPEAT?_Verse, ( ficverse version here ); - it can be read as a standalone fic - it can be read as an AU and/or spinoff of the main REPEATVerse; - or as its own standalone AU/spinoff Summary: “...Can you turn around and--- - it's April 2004. (..Or is it April 2003? Spring 2003?) - at the end of Spring 2003, something else astonishing occurred: Daisuke's sister Jun, the Inoue sisters, & Shuu Kido all became Chosen at once. - an incident, (occured, and then) ---

"I'll help, so we, you, can get out of here !!---"

“They {Won’t come}”

... TAICHI-SENPAI's GOGGLES ( ... Are probably absolutely unfitting for Koushiro Izumi, but .... )

... the shadowy, empty cave Seems to spread out for miles ... He opens ... his EYES " ... KOUSHIRO ?!?? " --- is --- collappsed --- before him -- " O-Oi, Koushiro, wake up!!--- " He's about to rush over to the fallen boy, WHEN --- he FREEZES --- -- in the distance ... in the distance, suddenly, a very very VERY-BAD-FEELING --- ... He stands, wincing, but, ATTEMPTING, ... spreads his arms out as wide as possible, --- SQUARES HIMSELF --- as if to " SHIELD " the other {against an UNKNOWN enemy} ... " Koushiro , " -- He tries to whisper it -- slightly louder, more HARSHLY, --- " KOUSHIRO --- " " U-Ugh.... " ...Koushiro's awake ?!?? ...Yeah, Koushiro's definitely STIRRING, BUT--- " DAISUKE...-kun...?? " " KOUSHIRO, I think we gotta RUN, " " ... or at least, MOVE , " " there seems to be ' SOMETHING ' pressing -- in, over THERE ---- " Koushiro makes a strangled kind of noise --- ... DAISUKE turns to look at him now --- in SURPRISE. " ... Koushiro, we HAVE TO---!! " " ... " ... it's only now ... he ... realizes ... KOUSHIRO'S SHIRT ... around his waist ... is matted ... with blood ... Koushiro's legs, too ---- ... completely banged up {... on top of the scarred past injuries that he already had} ... Koushiro won't be able to run ... " NO!!! " Daisuke abandons his defensive stance, RUSHES OVER --- " Koushiro, no, you CAN'T DIE on me here " " TAICHI-SENPAI will KILL ME !!! " " Hell, IORI WOULD MURDER ME --- " " I WOULD ----- " ( never forgive --- ) ... Koushiro ... opens his eyes ... gives Daisuke ... a weak smile ... clutching at the INJURY at his waist. ... where there had PREVIOUSLY already BEEN past wounds. No ... the Digimon ... the others ... where are they ? " KEN --------------- !!!!! " " V-MON --------------- !!!!! " " TAICHI-SENPAI --------------- !!!!! " ... it's a futile effort " ... they WON'T COME , " Koushiro chokes it out, quietly ... that feeling ... It’s getting ... SO MUCH WORSE " KOUSHIRO, come ON --- " --- Daisuke has moved --- ran to Koushiro --- tries to pull Koushiro's arms --- around Daisuke's own neck -- " I’LL HELP, so we, YOU, can get out of here !! --- " ... He's already moved a very slight, short distance, pulling Koushiro along with him --- ... but ... it's futile, right ? ... " ...Daisuke-kun " ... " I(t)... " ( hurts ) ... Daisuke winces ... slowly stops ... lets Koushiro off as gently ... as possible ... Koushiro haphazardly ... lies in a heap, ... gazing up ... at him [ "Take them" ] [ ... a pair ] [ ... of TAICHI-SENPAI's ----- ] [ the kind that can {SEE} DISTORTIONS ] [ ... Daisuke reaches for the goggles with SHAKING HANDS ... simultaneously tries to ... PUSH THEM AWAY ----- ] " WAIT " ... he gets an IDEA ... instead suddenly moves ... off his head, ... YANKS them off --- " YOU " " KOUSHIRO, YOU --- " " TAKE THESE ---- " ... Koushiro ... gazes up at him ---- ... Daisuke moves ... as carefully as he possibly can (albeit clumsily), ... fixes them ... onto Koushiro's own head ... TAICHI-SENPAI's GOGGLES ( ... Are probably absolutely unfitting for Koushiro Izumi, but .... ) ... Koushiro gives him ... an extremely ... gentle ... smile ... " DAISUKE-KUN " , ( " You are LIKE TAICHI " ) ( " You are DIFFERENT from Taichi, but ALSO, ‘LIKE’ --- " ) " THANK YOU , " ... it's said ... informally ... " Can you " ... " turn around " ... " and " ... " COUNT TO " " TEN " " ? " ( YAMATO-SAN, awkwardly stammering, as he talks to MOTOMIYA JUN ---- ) ( " Can you turn around and count to TEN ? " ) ... MOTOMIYA DAISUKE ... shakily ... turns around ... " One " R ... " Two " E ... " T-three --- " P [ KOUSHIRO’S FINGER SWAYS, swiftly --- ] " FOUR " E " Five " A " SIX " T " seven " ? " ei---ggght , " _ " NINE " N/Y_ " T E N " * _Y * [ DAISUKE isn't sure if he gets the chance to TURN AROUND ] [ KOUSHIRO isn't sure if HE ----- ] [ DAISUKE clenches a hand ] [ towards his head, trying to, if they're STILL THERE, FEEL ---- ] * [ " Daisuke-kun , " " ... you're kind " ] * . . . .

Notes: - it’s not quite a Bad End but it’s not exactly the best outcome either - I originally got ideas from the initial previews for Bokura no Mirai - obviously none of those happened - if it’s not obvious enough, Koushiro is basically writing a quick program to warp and Rewrite the Digital Worlds’ coding. He moves so fast/swiftly because he’s already been through numerous timelines by this point, and is either a) subconsciously aware or b) not subconsciously, but hyper-aware {depending on which ‘verse/spinoff scenarios this scene Repeats within} - thus yeah these are psuedo-deaths [non permanent]; they don’t literally die {at least Koushiro himself definitely doesn’t in this scene} - look I’m sorry but if Koushiro fell from such a height, at such a speed, into the kind of place like Taichi fell into {it’s uh kind of replaced with maybe a certain Dark Cave here except 02-style; see: Chapter 11, City}, he’d be banged up too - Koushiro may be skilled by this point but he can’t stop everything - Koushiros’ true aim is to solve the {alternative/timeline splits?} mystery that they’ve possibly got thrown into, so he has a ways to go still; along the way, he’s coming to terms mentally with his own situation while bearing the weight of it all - this bit attempts to explain the canonical timeline gap between Spring 2003 [02 drama CD] ~ April 2005 [Tri start; Saikai] - I really miss my old website / 02 fic and really just want to write Daisuke {02 fav} helping Koushiro during a high stakes moment and them both acknowledging each other[s’/strengths] in turn - I meant to post this a long time ago but {well} Yup

- for the Good End “closest to the latter” see Chapter 22; Adopted - for the best outcome of the AUs verses & most others; Chapter 33: Summertime - for the Good End post-02 AUs, Chapter 24: Scars

- In the end this bit is more of a series of AU ideas that weren’t really supposed to happen in the main timeline of the fic, but I do like to think at least some version of Koushiro came across Daisuke at some point; {especially if we’re counting in my old ficverse} [Koushiro was a major player in a similar timeloops-esque / past lives situation there too, if slightly different back then]

- this fic is not meant to “reverse” or “rewrite” tri actually, thanks. {nor is it meant to ‘rewrite’ or ‘scrap’ Tri!Koushiro or 02!Daisuke} [nor is it meant to ‘improve on their situations’ or retcon the tri ending] (it’s fine to read my stuff if you just didn’t care for tri but if you actively hate Tri!Koushiro you probably won’t like my stuff involving Tri!Koushiro. sorry)

- regardless it’s my own AUs of AUs so yeah they’re just AU spinoffs

#izumi koushirou #motomiya daisuke #koushiro and daisuke #daishiro #daishiro friendship #daisuke and koushiro #koushirouizumi posts #koushirouizumi fic #koushirouizumi 02 fic #fic: repeat #verse: repeat #verse: advs #verse: 02 #verse: 02 spinoffs #verse: tri spinoffs #verse: pre tri #verse: immediately pre tri #verse: AU #verse: 2003 #verse: 2004 #verse: 2005 #(getting this one on the blog but yeah not tagging main tags ok)#(only secondary name tags)#(everything is tagged and warned for)#(I just want to write friendship between my AUs Koushiro and Daisuke)#(because I miss writing Daisuke leave me alone)#(this one is meant to explain a gap between the canon timeline of spring 2003 and tri's 2005 April so if you don't like high stakes AUs)#(yeah please just move on)#(it's not directly 'explaining' in canon terms that is but providing an AU setup for my ficverse that semi works within the canon timeline)#(reminder this is not the entire ficverse)

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operationrainfall · 5 years

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Title NeuroVoider Developer Flying Oak Games Publisher(s) Plug In Digital Ltd Playdius (PC) Release Date March 20th, 2018 (Vita) Genre(s) Twin-Stick Shooter, Rogue-like, RPG Platform(s) Vita, PS4, Xbox One, Switch, PC Age Rating E10+ for Everyone 10+ Official Website

The rogue-like genre certainly is an interesting one. Despite having a pretty well-established list of game mechanics that define what the genre is, the sky’s the limit when it comes to what can be done with those mechanics. From basic RPGs to those that combine elements of platformers and shooters, there are actually quite a few different options that developers can choose to explore. This time around, I took a look at a twin-stick shooter with rogue-like aspects that places heavy emphasis on randomized builds. NeuroVoider originally launched back in late 2016 for PC, Xbox One, and PlayStation 4. After receiving mostly positive reviews on those platforms, it saw a subsequent Nintendo Switch release in 2017 and a surprising PlayStation Vita release in the spring of 2018. For the purposes of this review, I will be focusing on the Vita version.

NeuroVoider doesn’t place much of an emphasis on story, but the tutorial gives you as much as you need. You awaken as a brain floating in a test tube, break out of that tube, and acquire a robotic body by choosing from one of three possible classes: Dash, Rampage, or Fortress. Your goal from that point on is to go from level to level, kill everything that moves, destroy the generators scattered throughout, and use newly obtained parts to upgrade your body. Along the way, you’ll encounter several bosses and make your way to the master at the end. Choosing the Dash class grants you the ability to move quickly from place to place, but your HP may be lower than the other two classes. Fortress class bodies are slow-moving, but they make up for that weakness by offering you more HP. I spent the majority of my playtime using the Rampage class since it’s essentially the best of both worlds.

I’ve labeled NeuroVoider as a rogue-like, but the only real defining characteristics that led to that distinction are permadeath and randomized enemies, loot, and level progression. The structure of each level is also procedurally generated. There are between 5-6 different settings that a level can revolve around. After each level there is an “intermission” screen where you are given the choice of three randomly chosen locations. Each of these will have a randomly assigned size, structure, number of “elite” enemies, and varying degrees/quality of dropped loot. The loot itself is what really makes each playthrough unique, as each item that you obtain can be normal, uncommon, rare, or even “glitched”. You use these items to upgrade your base unit’s core, vision components, mobility, and weapons. Each item also comes with its own randomized values for HP, EP, damage dealt, etc.

When you first begin a playthrough, you can either choose to generate a brand new body for yourself or use a code from one of your previous playthroughs. It’s all luck of the draw for which parts you will be initially assigned. From there, you will obtain new items as you defeat enemies and gather parts. Depending on which level you choose out of the possible three, the quality of loot that you can obtain will increase or decrease. I found that it’s generally better to start off by choosing stages with low difficulty and medium quality items. Once you upgrade once or twice, then you can start ramping up the difficulty. Keep in mind that once you die, it becomes difficult to reclaim your lost items (though it can be done).

The last main point of customization comes in the form of forging new pieces for your body. If you obtain new parts that don’t fit with your desired class/loadout, you can scrap them and use the materials to synthesize new pieces. These new pieces will be generated at random and could be better or worse than what you had before. I’d instead suggest saving the scrap materials to help repair your unit as it becomes damaged. Additionally, if you decide at some point while playing that you’d like to switch classes, you can do so by simply exchanging your current parts for ones that are associated with one of the other two classes. Unfortunately, you can’t mix and match class-specific parts, but that ability would give players an unfair advantage.

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All talk of customization aside, NeuroVoider at its core is a top-down, twin-stick shooter. You use a combination of different guns and energy weapons to mow down robotic enemies before they can do the same to you. Keeping in mind that I’ve only played the PS Vita version, I must say that controlling your unit is easier said than done. While basic movement is pretty fluid, aiming can initially be a bit of a challenge. Something about lining up shots with the right analog stick just feels a bit stiff. This could just be my own perception though and I did get used to it rather quickly. What I didn’t get used to though was the usage of the Vita’s back touchpad. Regardless of loadout, your unit comes equipped with two features, each of which are tied to the back touchpad. Tapping the left side of the pad activates special abilities that you can choose beforehand like HP regeneration or EMP blasts. The right side of the pad is reserved for class-specific abilities like shielding and dashing. The problem with this system is twofold: The left side ability can be used roughly once per level and the right side ability can quickly overheat your unit, causing HP loss. Why is this an issue? Well, if you’re like me, it’s likely that you tend to hold your Vita by resting your fingers on the touchpad. With so few games actually using the touchpad for input, I’ve grown accustomed to simply placing my fingers there. While I attempted to avoid touching the pad while playing, it was a hard habit to break and I found myself wasting my abilities and overheating when I didn’t intend to. This issue won’t exist for other versions, but it’s definitely a point of annoyance on the Vita.

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Input troubles aside, the rest of the game plays just fine. As a shooter, it’s pretty competent and I enjoyed using a variety of different tactics and loadouts to see which ones worked best. The text is a tad too small to read at times, but that was never a huge issue for me. Perhaps the only other item to be aware of is the lack of multiplayer support on the Vita. If you take a look at the “New Game” screen, you’ll notice that there are four different test tubes, but only the green one is able to be selected. This is because the other three are reserved for other players. If you have the PC, Xbox, PS4, or Switch version of the game, you can select these and play local co-op with other people. Given limitations with the Vita and its low install base, it’s unfortunate but somewhat expected that this would be the case. Still, leaving out the multiplayer feature altogether seems like a huge loss for this version, especially given the positive feedback for this feature in the other versions.

We’ve talked a lot about gameplay, so let’s shift gears and talk about the art design now. NeuroVoider is a very dark and futuristic looking game. It’s comprised of really well done pixel art, both for the sprites and the backgrounds. Each level has its own theme and each of them are done quite nicely. From laboratories, to sewers, to ice levels, to what seems like hell itself, there are a good variety of different environments to explore. Keep in mind too that each level will be structured slightly differently, so no two levels will look identical.

I have very mixed thoughts when it comes to the music and sound design. On one hand, the soundtrack is done by synthwave artist Dan Terminus and I was very pleased with the tracks that were included. The music overall is very dark and sci-fi sounding so it fits in perfectly with the vibe that the developers were going for. On another positive, the sound effects themselves were pretty nice. I never noticed any issues with these or felt that they were out of place. I did however notice a glaring issue with the background music, namely that it didn’t always play correctly. There were numerous times when I would be in the middle of a level and the background music would simply cut out at random, never to return (until the next level). On none of these occasions did I notice any similarities; they just happened out of nowhere. I’ve seen online that some players of the PC version have reported having no sound at all, but I was unable to verify if my issue was specific to the Vita version or not. Regardless, it is an concern to make a note of.

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Despite some issues specific to the Vita version, I walked away feeling quite impressed with NeuroVoider and I’m certain that I will continue to play it off and on now that this review is done. Aside from my reservations with the touchpad input and the sound issues, it’s still a very competent shooter and an interesting rogue-like. Since this game relies heavily on trial and error, there really is no cookie-cutter answer for how long this will take you to play. I found that my longest run was a little over an hour, though most of mine fell somewhere between 30-45 minutes. My overall playtime was somewhere in the ballpark of 7-8 hours. If you throw multiplayer into the mix, your times may vary further. In summary, NeuroVoider’s interesting use of randomized loadouts, high replayability, and reasonable price point of $9.99 (for the Vita version) earn it a thumbs up from me. Having said that, I’d forgo playing this on the Vita and spend the extra $5 or so to pick up a version that supports multiplayer.

[easyreview cat1title=”Overall” cat1detail=”” cat1rating=”4″]

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Review Copy provided by the publisher for review purposes.

REVIEW: NeuroVoider Title NeuroVoider Developer Flying Oak Games Publisher(s) Plug In Digital Ltd

#Flying Oak Games #NeuroVoider #nintendo switch #PC #Playdius #PlayStation 4 #Plug In Digital Label #PS4 #Roguelike #Vita #Xbox One

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juleswolverton-hyde · 5 years

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A Valediction: Forbidden Mourning | 02

Genre: Smut, Romance, Angst, Stepbrother AU

Pairing: Stepbrother!Namjoon x English student!Reader

Warning: A jealous Namjoon, possessive behaviour, mild swearing

Summary: Love comes in many shapes, but does not always have a prosperous fate. However, whereas parents might have found it, all the children can do is live in kalopsia.

Forbidden yet denying the mourning of the path chosen for them by Fate.

Previous part / Masterlist / Next part

Emotions have an unconscious way of influencing the environment, making a person emit an aura that makes others aware of their presence. Even when not really consciously aware, it happens and sometimes it is comforting - like friends joining you in the morning for the lecture and complaining about the early hour despite it already being almost noon - yet at other times it is all but that.

And in this case, the latter certainly applies as the suppressed rage hardly goes unnoticed and makes every breath the lungs held in anticipation of perhaps escaping the wolf be pushed out in an instant of awed fear. A type of horror which is nullified by the charm which earlier enchanted the mind during the reading of the messages containing a hidden meaning of silent possession, making the heart skip a beat with neither distress nor love. Although, perchance, it is filled with affection because it is secretly relieved and grown perverse by the adoration shaped by daydreams that have grown corrupt since another particular sensual incident. Namely, the first time seeing Namjoon shirtless and not too quietly busying hands with lust-filled phantom play through the crack in the door after coming home earlier than expected since, apparently, there was no need for extra hands on the work floor.

A specification of the change lies perhaps in the detail which was not as heart-wrenching and cruelly teaching as it should have been. It added idiotic rosy fuel to the despicable fires the fool within keeps igniting regardless of Sense trying to bind them down and take the blindfold of Chance off so that the damage which has been done and is about to be expanded could be seen.

A name.

Tethering with the giant on the edge and the culprit of the fall.

Mine.

Breath ceased entirely at that moment, the spine quickly pressed against the wall of the corridor so as to evade any accidental eye contact that would ruin everything with the betrayal of presence. Nevertheless, the speed of the swift retreat was not high enough and gazes did lock, but one turned away in horror and fled up the rickety cedar stairs.

Ran away from the half-dazed wolf who likely would have wanted to explain himself had the silly girl not known without needing evidence it was a mere slip of the tongue, devoid of meaning.

Only caused by the accidental notice of something private.

Nothing.

I still mean nothing.

The power of the amount of helplessness felt by both parties during that calamity mixed with the potion of guilt and self-loathing for still entertaining the thoughts thereafter of being taken against that same futilely protecting wall by him, comes close yet not entirely to the menace as Joon approaches and forcefully grabs the wrist hanging unresisting by the side. The attached body is pulled flush against the dark trench coat like a ragdoll, beckoned back to the realm of secure sharp cologne, while espresso eyes stare Changkyun down, likely calculating how to end the lad.

Withal, that shall not happen before anything is said about this new addition to the rapidly growing list of strange behaviours as Wit awakens and kills the lucid imaginations. This is seriously wrong and needs to be solved, so Judgement cannot be made blind by Fancy. ‘Joon, what the hell are you doing?’

‘I told you we’d be going out for lunch.’ As to emphasize who is meant by the plural personal pronoun, the hand that had folded perfectly over the wrist now does the same at the hip in a closer hold. Briefly, an odd spark within remarks upon the snug fit, the harmony of complementary shapes, edging Sense in the sinful direction once more for a mere split second before it turns around again. ‘I’m here to pick you up.’

None of the surrounding speechless amiable lifelines dares to speak up, all of them engrossed in the wordless war currently being waged by a poet gone haywire and a boy who, judging from the admittance of wrong interpretation given in the short glance from the apparent adversary to the hapless koala at the side of the battlefield, finds the situation curious but also begins to show a new sort of concern floating up from deep within.

Especially at seeing the I-told-you-he-is-weird look that manages to break through the spell of the physical contact, undaunted by the sharp punishing sideways scowl emphasizing the action has not gone by unnoticed.

‘Dude, calm down. I think Y/N is more than capable of making a choice of her own. Besides, she already has an appointment for a cup of coffee.’ Either Changkyun is braver than Sir Gawain in the fight against The Green Knight or more foolish than all the rich men that tried to capture Portia’s heart in Belmont in vain. Whatever the case, the words are clearly taken with offence. ‘After that, she is free to do as she pleases.’

‘And who are you to speak for her?’ The response does almost not sound human. Rather, it is more animalistic, the syllables growled instead of properly articulated. As by instinct, the hand holding a tight grip on the hip easily moves the small figure it holds further behind a broad back.

And it lets him because Red Riding Hood was also foolish enough to trust the Big Bad Wolf.

Nonetheless, this is not stupid because Namjoon is a safe haven.

A natural place to hide.

Trustworthy.

Known.

Protecting.

No, I cannot get lost in him. Not now nor ever. There is no forever. Not for us.

Another taunting threatening utterance does not need to be said to obviously mark it as the moment to intervene in the absurd cockfighting. After all, both parties were presumed to know better than fall into the kind of battles which should have been left behind in high school.

A barely noticeable though harsh tug at the sleeve beckons a reluctant listening ear. ‘Joon, you know who he is. I’ve told you about him many times. We’re just friends.’

Speech becomes increasingly and noticeably harder, gritted teeth diluting the following mocking phrase. ‘Just friends, huh? Then why does he look so hurt when you say that?’

‘I’m not! Look, man, you’re seeing things.’ Now the sonorous voice of the guy who dreams of becoming a rapper someday has gained the same double-edged sinister detail as Namjoon’s, also clearly ready to jump the gun if it is necessary.

‘Oh, so I’m delusional?’ In the time it takes to snap fingers, the guarding palm on the hip has fallen away and moulded into a fist like its trembling counterpart. ‘I’ll make you see things.’

‘Don’t.’ A swift hand on a smooth caramel cheek shifts the grey-haired man’s attention to the touch, fortunately evidently appreciating the soft caresses. Digits see the opportunity to entwine with the temporarily loosened would-be soldiers, thus taking away the chance for Instinct to really throw the mind into blazing red-visioned anger and a worthless scuffle. Drag the attached tall body away with whatever strength has been gained with hours in the gym if the situation gets out of hand, difficult as it could be. Perhaps the lasses will release bated breaths and find the courage to escape the tensity suppressing all sources of preventing help. ‘Don’t, Joon. You know better than this.’

With the wolf distracted by the gentle touches normally meant for lovers, the chance of addressing the oddly opposing party as well is taken. ‘Both of you. By Jaysus, you are grown men. Act like it. Changkyun, I really appreciate you standing up for me, but I’ll take it from here.’

‘Y/N, are you-’

‘I am, Kkung.’ Turning away from a comrade hands the self back over into careful surrender to the menacing poet who is no longer entranced by the soft to and fro movements on the freshly shaven suntanned skin. ‘Come on, let’s go, Namjoon. Lads, see you-‘

The farewell cannot be fully worded due to being pulled along to the exit, forced into endeavouring to keep up with the fast pace long strides put between the people who make academic life not all that bad and the promised place that will also function as a spot for a good talk about these outrageous circumstances.

The fresh breeze feels like a delight after the dusty smell of the long cold clinical corridors and warm tiny hallways crowded with students waiting for a lecture on the subject of years of study, immediately refreshing every jumbled oppressed thought before remembering being anchored to an ever-sailing ship which shows no signs of slowing down. Henceforth, feet stumble over the uneven reddish plum mixing with mustard yellow cobblestones, both colours occurring at irregular intervals, of the papal dyke and past the precariously situated aquamarine statue of the sole pope the Lower Countries has ever produced, towards the plaza where a divided church stands till this very day.

When almost tripping over the bronze outline of the Roman castle wall that stood there two-thousand years ago, the historic remnants forever resting beneath the surface in peace, a short yet powerful tug catches the captain’s attention. ‘Namjoon, hold on a minute, will ye?’

With one hand, since the other is caught in a grip that does not allow any sort of movement, the winter jacket lined with earth-toned wolf fur gone astray over the linen blouse and autumnal brown tartan treggings - messing up the outfit underneath so that it also has to be corrected - is made proper again. The leather bag relieved from its duty as a retail worker’s pack mule is slung over the shoulder instead of letting it sling from the crook of the elbow before eyes brave the animalistic snarl of the contemporary Ares. ‘What the hell was that about? Did you have to make a scene in front of my friends like that?’

‘Maybe you didn’t see it, but that “friend”,’ the word is spat out with as much venom as has crept into the voice of a koala turned into a mirror of the wolf suddenly treating her as a prey solely preserved from him, ‘clearly saw this as a step to something more valuable. Before he couldn’t ask you out because you always head straight home or have lunch with me, but now there was a very opportune occasion to ask you out. All you had to do was forget your wallet.’

Though strange sensations removed from the rage blazing like a storm inside at the humiliating display are provoked, the original anger cannot be entirely suppressed when continuing the verbal battle for the reasoning is absurd. After all, Changkyun is merely a pal asking another who is having an all but grand day out for a comforting beverage and to have a brief repose together. ‘It was only a fucking single cup of coffee! He and I are nothing more than friends and Kkung knows that. You know that!’

The laugh preluding a jeering response is mirthless, devoid of actual amusement and in its place filled with pure mocking. ‘Look at you, calling that dude by his nickname.’

‘It’s true, you bastard.’ A neatly shaped eyebrow raises sarcastically, unconvinced of the outburst at taking the credit of the truth for granted. ‘And that’s normal, Joon, calling people by their nickname. In fact, you and I do it all the time. I honestly see no other problem than you at the moment.’

‘How can you not see it? He’s not the man for you, ba- bear.’ The nickname that was given after the first night of laying side by side after being rescued from nightmares, clinging onto the strong arm wrapped around the waist while the other was draped around the shoulder with its fingers entangled in smooth ash blonde locks thus forming an apparent likeness with a koala, oddly forms a second option. Thoughts run wild with ruminations of the original pet name feeding the foreign emotions floating beneath the unforgiving menace of being made a fool of, momentarily calming the urging need to futilely wrap small palms around a golden throat to gladly strangle the life energies out of it.

Withal, surely the assumptions as to the hastily stopped intent are ungrounded for they are all inappropriate for calling a family member.

However, if the addressed person is alright with the chosen term of endearment and there is no technical blood-based relationship between the individual and the speaker, it should not be problematic.

A wishful empty hope.

A doomed daydream.

The silly fantasy of a stupid girl.

That is what it is, the Truth plain and simple: we are bound by a bloodless bond which is mercilessly deprived of a love that is craved so much in his presence.

As if the chance for the latter to be directed towards me has ever been present.

To not show the inner conflict deteriorating the mind and too stubborn to show surrender as of yet, the argument continues with as steady a voice as can be mustered. ‘Oh, he isn’t the right man? And who would be, eh?’

The painfully tight grip on the hand loosens and falls away entirely, rendering the tongue silent in wonder as hands remove the trench coat and the obsidian turtleneck underneath to reveal a bright crimson shirt of which the two top buttons are made undone to expose marvellously carved collarbones. A complete loss for words occurs when the piece of clothing is patiently handed out for the taking with the softened expression of the bear within that always occurs when being worried about something, a slight shake indicating to do so.

It would be taken directly without hesitation was it not for the inquiry about the sudden change of topic, also slightly indicating there is no need for an additional layer of clothes despite the joy always found in the comfort scented by the poet. ‘Why are you handing me your sweater? Put it back on or you’ll get a cold.’

‘I could say the same for you. Just put it on, that blouse won’t keep you warm.’ Teeth bite down on a plush roseate lower lip when noticing the top of the crisp white lace bralet peeking out from the bare opening similar to the fashion of the ruby shirt containing a chest rising and falling a bit faster with laboured breath.

The classy though suggestive piece miraculously found its way to the sheets of the bed after an afternoon of wandering the city together, during which eyes fell on the piece of lingerie but quickly averted to not make the grey-haired giant whose hand was first held then, small hand wrapped around the pinky, uncomfortable.

A day later, ensuing the return from a tiring linguistics lecture at the university and preparing to go to the gym, a paper bag containing the underwear sat neatly at the end of the bed without any message that could indicate where, or rather from whom it came. Not a second thought had to be conjured to know the story behind what was left clueless since it was not the first time it happened. The sole difference with previous instances is that it did not concern a book, shirt, dress or small note containing a song and its artist.

More than a second thought, however, needed to be conjured to dispel all the crazy fantasies following in the gift’s wake, especially due to the bond with the gorgeous Fox in the East.

Just a present.

Nothing but a kindness.

Simply one of many shown before.

Devoid of sensual intent.

Except for in the phantom play that followed under the twilight of a starless heaven in which the silver moon shone bright, conducted in as silent a fashion as was possible.

‘You’re wearing it.’ The tone suggests that the unconscious desire of being seen even has guided the sense of style for the day for only now does the impact of the choice become apparent to the accidental planner.

‘Do you- Do you like it?’ Although asked in a timid manner, the images flashing by of the sensual wanton morning accident are depleted of any sort of innocence. Instead, they empower the suspicion theorizing that if the choice of underwear had been discovered earlier on, all protest would have been disregarded and the secret longing been fulfilled regardless of the consequences.

If the unbroken gaze and low dangerous growl are anything to go by alongside trembling digits creeping toward the part of the body which was unintentionally explored before breakfast, Namjoon does approve of the most inner outfit. Withal, the dangerous glint also proposes a slight disapproval since it is obviously seen as a means of temptation for other men as well. Another cause to resume the argument, so it would appear. ‘Put the sweater on before the wrong guy sees you. What were you even thinking, going out dressed so minimally?’

‘Minimally? I’m not dressed like a prostitute, but more like the miss Fancy Pants you know I tend to be. Besides, so what if a man sees me? I’m single. Furthermore, what if he happens to be cute, eh? Would certainly shut Da up, constantly pushing me to get a boyfriend.’ Moreover, Heungji still forms the girlfriend of three years connected via digital lifelines despite Korea being miles away across the globe.

None of this should matter to either of us.

But it does.

Oh, how it does to a wolf and a hapless doe.

A more wrong response could not have been given, gritted teeth no longer proposing the offered dark turtleneck but demanding for it to be worn without offering an opportunity for refusal. ‘Put. It. On.’

‘Alright. By Jaysus.’ Secretly delighted at wearing one of the comforting pieces scented by peppery cologne and espresso, formerly with a hint of smoke, agitatedly the sweater is accepted after shedding the beige winter jacket which does a splendid job on its own of holding out the cold of the fairly harsh breeze. ‘Here, hold my coat.’

While fumbling to find the way in the oversized jumper, a pair of big trusted hands roam down the sides of the body briefly, exploring its details and committing them to memory while an indecipherable murmur outside the fabric sounds renouncing of something said earlier.

For a moment, there is an invisible delight in the forbidden touch, revelling in the entertainment of feeling it in other places and be mapped out entirely. Unfortunately, the action is cut short by a curt strong pull which reintroduces the gothic backside of the separated cathedral and entrance to the tranquil ancient gardens of the adjacent monastery lit by the bright winter sun shining in a rare fortunate clear sky. Slender long caramel fingers correct the ashen locks gone astray, running smoothly through them as they are lovingly pushed back in an attempt to reconstruct the style before the transformation into a further dishevelled heap instead of the fairly charming bedhead they were styled in.

An admiring thumb strays via the cheek to the mouth, running over a pomegranate bottom lip and abruptly coming to a breathless halt when it is instinctively enveloped. Carefully it tests the waters, seeking out the limits of the power that can be exerted, by sliding further in and pushing down the tongue a bit. Surprise colours attitude completely when it is allowed, though the flash of a satisfied smile tells of the emotions surfacing thanks to the rather controlling sensuous action.

It is wrong.

We both know that.

Nevertheless, neither makes a move to end this.

None of us wants to stop.

Whereas the induced trance does not permit speech in the case of the girl fallen into a spur of the moment which may come at a dear price - merely the clenching of thighs due to a lucid daydream - Joon breaks somehow manages to break the silent spell with a voice that has gained a new baritone timbre previously only accidentally heard in privacy behind the bedroom door. ‘You’re being such a little brat, aren’t you? Going against me, dressing in a way you know will make me jealous when others look and turn me on, trying to go for coffee with that “friend” of yours. It makes me want to-’

A silent reflecting second passes wherein mildness overtakes a sliver of mighty posture, nullifies it enough to alter the spoken words from their original version. ‘Why, Y/N? Why are you doing this to me?’

The cushiony meeting with only a fracture of skin shamefully ends, but the one between gazes continues, obedience unable to look away from the power finally directed at it. Awed yet scared of the implications of the inquiry, the boundaries are stretched a bit further beyond the unfathomable point they already are in the hopes of hearing what should actually be said to another girl far away from here. Direct whatever serves as a correcting of behaviour at her. ‘What are you saying?’

The intent is never stated, but considering the paradox of emotions storming in the grave though still undeniably jealous stare, it holds the middle between pain and mildness.

‘Stop playing games. You know what I mean. I don’t want to see you with anyone but-’ The rushed bitter comment is abruptly cut off, the speaker strangely appearing to stop himself in time lest something would have been said that should remain unknown. In its stead, a meagre replacement of the original intent forms a response lacking in conviction, still obviously retaining secrets. ‘Any man who sees you like this, the outfit underneath, I mean, they- none of them are- they’re just not good enough, Y/N. Lead by lust. Changkyun might not directly show it, but I’m quite sure he’s as well. You need someone who can provide for you, be there for you regardless of the circumstances, want you as you are.’

‘How would you know, Joon? You can tell me this, but be completely wrong. Furthermore, I know Kkung well enough to know lust has never nor will ever form part of his motives. What’s more, it’s my opinion which matters in deeming a person’s intentions and value to me. You don’t get to decide that because you don’t know. I choose my perfect man, not you.’ The former irritation is ignited and fueled anew, momentarily effectively suppressing the aftermath of the newly made memory that will undoubtedly form a source for fantasy in private loneliness, when the grey wolf turns around and heads further toward the plaza of the broken church and leaves the negative words in his wake. ‘Hey! We’re not done talking!’

For a little while there is no reaction, merely speed-walking flowing over in running to catch up, until the mute solemn poet is stopped by a stubbornly defying palm on the chest in the middle of the square, right where once the ship of the cathedral stood before a tornado blew it to smithereens. ‘I said we weren’t done. What is up with you? First what happened-’ A deep beaten breath accompanies the retreat of the hand under a flustered gaze, one betraying many things are left unspoken yet unable to be said for an unknown reason and another taken by awkward astonishment due to the rash action. Feeling a slight quickening in breathing at the touch.

The softening effect of the dusting of crimson painting the cheeks flows over in speech, knowing that more yelling will get the conversation nowhere if not circling around itself, continuously ending or beginning at the same point. Within the scattered fragments of weakened posture are gathered to revive the blazing phoenix, ready to gain answers from the one who turns her into ashes again and again. ‘First this morning and now this. You’re acting weird for some reason I don’t know about.’

‘You really don’t see it, do you?’ Hands clench into trembling fists, an outburst on the brim of full rosy lips stupidly longing to fight its way to the surface but oppressed into a snarling reply.

You can’t love me.

‘See what? All I can see right now is a person who is dear to me floating off to God-knows-where without telling me why, acting all agitated as their own judge when I merely reach out. Pray, tell, what’s up?’

You never will.

‘I simply don’t want you to be disappointed, but find a man who is right for you.’ The tone of regret makes a sudden appearance, nullifying the entire argument that is meant to put an end to the rekindled subject. Somehow bringing a stranger into two entwined lives would be a shameful unexplained happening.

However, the mind has taken on too much of a careless attitude to pick up on the significance it might hold for it tells more of all that is not said. Instead, eyes roll towards the sky, lips forming into a sarcastic mirthless smile. ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, not this again. I can hardly believe this is why you’re acting so strangely. Yes, you had a difficult night but that does not excuse you from the matter because it forms no motive for what you did. Just talk to me, goddammit.’

Whatever occurred between the wolfish bear and the enchanting fox, the worthless koala is far removed from the private issues of the people depending on digital highways to remain in contact in order to keep the love alive.

But why do you sound contrite? I hate to see you so closed off, so removed from me. Namjoon, please. I know you hate fighting as much as me.

‘I am! And I already told you I’m sorry for what I did during breakfast. How many times do I need to repeat it before you believe it?’ Again, something is left unsaid as an indescribable tone leaning towards remorse finishes the half-yelled reaction. Fists stop trembling, fingers unfurling one by one and reaching out for the cheek of an uncomprehending girl turned into a mirror of his wolf within, shaking. But mid-air they fall away in fruitless resignation. ‘Please, believe me, bear.’

What aren’t you telling me?

‘Oh, you’re talking to me? Sorry for not noticing because it seems we’re continuously going back to a topic that explains nothing. However, since you appear to be so adamant about it, tell me who would be right.’ Regardless of the thought, the stubborn student within longs for a concrete answer to the question which has thus far only a precarious thesis as its reply without evidence to back it up.

There is no trace of the temporary warmth anymore in the gaze pinning down the opposing party, ready to spout out whatever has been wanting to be said and can no longer be contained. ‘You really want to know? Are finally going to listen for once?’

‘By all means, enlighten me. Who would be worthy?’

Ears go deaf after the utterance of a single word, Time standing still due to doubt about whether it is better to move forward, go back or remain a bit longer in curious revelling as Reality shrinks till it is confined to two people.

‘Me!’

#BTS #btssmutclub #btsguild #armyofwriters #kpopwonderlandtag #BTS smut #BTS x Reader #Namjoon #RM #Kim Namjoon #Joon #Stepbrother!Namjoon #A Valediction: Forbidden Mourning

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