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The Last Days of Judas Iscariot

Summary:

overdramatic stretching of episode one. saw that twitter art just ate ts up and shat out 16 hundred.

i would never have made this if it wasnt for my beautiful friend this is dedicated to. thank you for the excuse.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

 

 

The ship’s fluorescence had no effect on White. Office buildings, mansions, hospitals. The shine of light on metal was neutrally familiar. Beside them, however, someone squinted.

“Is it really that bright?”

The other sighed, “Is it always?” They shut their eyes and pulled their hair back. Dark natural hair that pushed a bit past their shoulders. They turned to face them.

“Sorry, green.” Green held out their hand. They gasped rudely before taking it, “White.”

“Pleasure to meet you!”

“All mine, really.” They felt their face warm.

“So where are you from?”

“Near Los Angeles.” They refrained from relaying the question.

“Oklahoma.”

“Is it, uh, nice? In Oklahoma.”

“It is…” They sighed, “But I’ve always dreamed of getting out of it. My town collected a ton of money so I could come here on an internship. It’s a great community!”

“Yeah. That sounds really nice.”

They looked over each other for a bit before the speaker in the video entered the room. White turned at the other, whose attention was fully taken up by their instruction, seeming so excited by just the notion of the trip. There was a bit of weight off their chest for a moment because it was that sweet. And for a second they convinced them that they wouldn’t have to go back to their business at the end of the trip, and that Green would get out of the farm for good. And they would never go back home. And they would never be home again.

 

Orange, another, more official, crewmate took them around the ship the day after. They first visited the cargo hold, then the reactor room, then the medical bay, where Green fawned too honestly over an admittedly beautiful doctor. The open attraction made White almost uncomfortable, before they dismissed the immaturity, chalking it up to second hand embarrassment. Of course Green didn’t know how to act–you don’t have to with that sort of face.

The day after, they were brought to the cafeteria. It was certainly embarrassing for them to not know anything about Green and the chef’s conversations. They seemed so invested, too. Yet White could only chime in on common grounds–like capitalism.

A month passed, and the jet got boring to someone like White. They crashed in Medbay when the doctor was out and began nursing a glass of wine in the boring dark, only illuminated by the rhythmic flashes of green light that spun on the hospice monitor.

“Hello?”

They backwashed, “Green?”

“White? What are you doing here?”

They shakily placed the glass on the floor by the bed. “Nothing.”

“You’re doing nothing?” The light came on their face; a lopsided smile, crooked teeth.

“I’m sleeping.”

They didn’t turn on the lights. Air rose to White’s head; they stifled a burp.

“I think you’re drinking.” The light came again and they could see their smile sweeten.

“Don’t tell purple!”

“I won’t.” The door closed behind them.

“Green?” Light fell on their uncertain face for a moment.

The sound of their legs tripping against the glass echoed in the bay. They stepped over them and onto the bed.

“Do you want some?”

“I shouldn’t.”

“We’ve done our tasks.” White pulled the glass off the ground and held it to the other’s lips. “Just relax.” They heard them swallow.

“It is really good…”

“Isn’t it?” They took some for themselves, a bit of spit left on the glass. They licked the edge in the dark. The other took it back.

“Where’d you get this, anyway?” They drank.

“Snuck it on the ship.” They drank.

“Is it a habit?” They drank..

“It’s a lifestyle.” They poured.

They took it back.

“Well it’s good. I wouldn’t expect any less from you though.” They drank..

“No?” They hesitated.

“Not at all.” They laughed a bit, finding the glass again and watching their reflection in it. “I should turn on the light.”

“Why?”

They twirled it in their fingers, “So I could see you–all red with alcohol.”

“Red.”

“Did you just roll your eyes? Come on, I want to see you.” They put the glass down on the bed unsteadily. They were pinned against the backboard.

“White…”

Their words were stuck. The other’s breath became more and more defiant, warm–hot. They felt their composure slip,

“Do you want..?”

They nodded, shifting to lay upright on the bed.

 

“Do you want me..?” The other lowered, falling onto one side and moving against them. They shut their eyes.

“Yes..!” Their suntanned features glowed as the light passed them, their wet lips slightly parted. They sighed, suddenly.

 

“There’s nothing you want.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? Are you indulging me? Aren’t you?” They turned at the ceiling. White pulled their face towards them, pleadingly,

“You’re wonderful.”

“It is wonderful, White. It’s wonderful and you know that so much better than I do. Look at me.”

“I am. I want to.” They moved,

“God, don’t turn on the light!” They hiccuped.

“Are you sure..?”

“Yes!” They pressed into the other, gripping their shoulders before writhing their hands onto their back. White fell into them limply, hands laid over their uniform pants and ass, trying to ignore the taste.

“Ow!” Their lip was bit.

“Open your mouth…” Their voice was thick with alcohol.

They leaned back in, jaw slightly in a tilt. White’s hands moved up to the other’s shoulders. When the other pulled away, they groaned, nagging for more. They were content for a few more minutes before Green tugged their uniform’s zipper.

 

White spoke, the other feeling it against their face–pressed against their back.

“This doesn’t matter. None of it does, you're drunk.”

“Did you not enjoy it?” They pushed themselves off the other.

“Of course I did.” They ran a hand through their ash blonde hair, roots growing unbleached on the ship. “Of course…”

They turned to face the other, “But it doesn’t matter. I want you, Green. I want this to matter.” They broke their stare and stood by the bed. The other looking up at them, then away, at the wine stained sheets.

“I’m sorry, White.”

They held their face and tried to sober,

“Do you want me to-”

They’d left. Light left their face as they fell back on the bed, deciding between covering up their scene or finishing the bottle. They looked back at the door.

 

Orange came back to them 2 days later, asking to show them the pilot’s deck, exciting Green and at the very least entertaining White. They were asked to fly; they sat at the helm. Lost in the captain’s vague directions and Green’s exhilarated shouts (and maybe the smallest amount of liquor), White failed to dodge an asteroid, and the ship was struck. They were scolded and ran to mend the hull.

It was a quick thrill, someone else fixing the problem for them, as always. You could say that in the mess there was no reason for White to have paid any attention to Green, and you’d be right. But it was still White who noticed their disappearance. And their change.

“Do you think Green’s been acting different?”

The doctor glanced up in thought, “I’m not sure. Maybe.”

“You don’t notice it?”

“I guess not.”

They stopped in the hall, looking through the open doorway and into the cafeteria.

“That smile.”

“Do you..?”

“It’s too wide.” They felt the back of their neck, “And their teeth were crooked.”

“Are they not?”

“No.”

“That is odd.”

“Do you think?”

They sat down, “You should ask.”

“I don’t want to be rude.”

“Ask.”

“Alright.”

 

The bay was dim, a white light in the corner and nothing else. They stood in the center, pulling apart.

“Are you even enjoying this? Are you ok?”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?”

They turned, “You’re acting so different.”

“Am I?”

They stifled a groan, “Yes! Yes you are!” Their hands curled into fists against their chest. “You don’t talk about anything but home anymore! You never do your tasks!”

“You don’t either.”

“It’s all you say anymore! Just repeating those same things about your farm! You have no passion for anything! What happened to us? Do you not like me anymore? We would’ve run away from it! You hated that farm! Don’t you remember?”

“White-”

“Look at you! You can’t even touch me!” They pressed their head against their chest. They whined, “You’re not even excited by it; your heart barely beats.”

They looked up at them, features now dull and unappealing to them, “You used to fall into me and talk all about it, y’know? Tell me how the heart was so telling. God, I was so scared of you. And you could tell. Tell me if I am, Green. I don’t know what to think around you, now. Nobody seems to know. I don’t know. Tell me.”

Green shut their eyes and sighed, the other felt their breath against their blonde hair. “You don’t know.” They grabbed White’s hand, cold. Their thumb pressed against its nape. The one steady light of the room flickered. They held it too tight. The other’s fingers shot out.

“You are.”

They looked up in unrealized terror, “I’m what?”

“Scared.”

 

They stumbled into the cafeteria, multicolored confetti slowly falling onto their head. They gripped their abdomen. Pain resounded throughout their body. They tried desperately to be numb to it. A bit of blood dripped from their mouth. The cheering stopped. Their ears rang out and their vision blurred. Ultimately, they thought, it was their fault. That day, Green would’ve never crashed the ship. It might’ve been that realization that would do them in, but it wasn’t. It was the fatal disconnection of their spinal nerve, and blood loss. Could they blame them?

They looked up, and the lights became too much to bear. They thought of a Hell they might end up in. It was really sick to hope they were there, but wasn’t it nice to imagine that they did get somewhere? Not a farm or city, but between them–below. It was a burning, agonizing pain. Their thoughts scattered. They squinted…

 

 

 

Notes:

dont ss. if u know me irl you dont ok. if u dont know who i am i hope you also think the ecstasy orgy scene was really necessary cause it was really very necessary.

bookmark comment so i can ss and share thanks