#(Also yes I think this will have like 2-3 updates every week to chase after the deadline)

[mellowwillowy]

Yan! Best Friend x GN! Reader

There was a notorious bully in your class, a beautiful self-entitled nepo bitch who only knew how to smoke and pissed her off. You on the other hand were far from the luxuries your classmates lived in, just someone trying to survive with the high school scholarship you received from the government.

You had always wondered why she didn't target you who were obviously a soft prey instead of one of the many rich girls. You wondered for a year until you finally realized the answer.

It was when you almost got yourself into trouble with her. She threatened you that you would be her next victim and you boldly declared that she wouldn't even though you weren't completely certain of your reasoning.

That you understood her.

"You are just envious of them. Of how lonely you are and how loved they are instead."

In short, the bully, Im Seonmi, was just a petty child who didn't want to see other kids happy from what she couldn't have. The warmth from their parents, the acknowledgment they received, and the support that they needed.

It was almost just as simple as that, that you noticed how this bully was actually smart and a lonely bitch, made her fall for you. She knew what she was getting herself into and paid no mind to what it might lead to. Even if she couldn't put the feelings she felt in a word, she still craved for you. To have you.

The friendship between you two bloomed and now she was ready to squeeze her way into your school life, uni life, career life, and even your marriage life. You would not notice how she had steered your life for forty years until it was too late.

[cirqosmos]

yandere simulator; xo (only if you say yes)

2024 | 18+ | RUNTIME: 23K | STARRING > Y.JW | SUMMARY; when you—a corporate worker in her late twenties—finds a strange self-proclaimed online game "no one has ever win this game yet", where its premise are centered around yanderes, but instead of the classic route where the yanderes had to chase you, it is you who have to do it; turn the boy you've chosen into a lovesick creature for you before someone else does. playing it online is surely fine, but what happens when you find yourself stuck in its world?

GENRE: yandere, survival/death game, character-driven story, violence/gore, dark psychology, psychological thriller, drama

LVL 2 WARNING: intense emotional outbursts, minor graphic details of gore, ;; not a native eng speaker! grammar errors ahead!,

THEME MUSIC: ROSEATE LIGHT / BGM.

DIRECTOR'S CUT, ep 2 is finally out after two months of grinding!! its not my best work, as im kind of bummed with my eng. i've revised it countless of times, so apologies for any mistakes but regardless i hope yall will still love it <3 btw i don't do taglist for my works, apologies for that! so today concludes the last release for this roleplay game bc i have to finish two film projects which has been delayed for quite awhile now :'( so there won't be any update until further notice! soo yeah 𖹭 hope you enjoy and tyvm for reading!

loading... lvl ②

this is a roleplay story game with a poll, where you may either choose to observe yourself as the protagonist or the one helping the protagonist. to play the game, it is advise to read the story properly because once you've reached the bottom, a poll will be presented with multiple routes you have to choose. every level's poll has a 1-week time limit, and therefore it is advise to not rush to vote and to have a discussion among each other first, and to think wisely which choice you think are the best —as the majority of the votes will decide how the game progresses. but its important to keep in mind, that each route has its advantages and disadvantages and may lead to the protagonists' downfall rather than benefiting her.

AUG 23. 2024

EARTH, ****

i. WHAT IS A GAME TO YOU?

A game is an activity, one that engages with for newfound experiences, for amusement and fun, or simply out of pure boredom.

In a sense, it is a virtual world where you are able to do something you were unable to do in the real world; to live out a role. There are numerous, vast array of games, whether it be analog or digital. So many of them, you couldn't get the definitive, exact count of the total number that exists in the world.

But does that even matter when its main core is to give you an experience out of this world?

The real world.

Where humans assume a role the moment they realize what it meant to live and survive, yet not just one but many. We often rotate these roles like a roulette depending on who we talk with, or what kind of situation we're in, maybe what is expected of us, or to abide by of what is our current status and position.

The origin of the word 'role' could be trace back further to French rôle from obsolete French roule ‘roll’, referring to the roll of paper on which an actor's part was written, and also from Latin—rotula, rotulus 'little wheel', which is a diminutive of rota 'wheel'.

In a sense, we created scripts in our head of how we should act. Because think of this, how would you act if your mechanics suddenly acted like a doctor? Its weird, right? Or maybe depending on your opinion, you may find it hilarious.

That's why we act according to our role, the part given to us, and the many parts that we've assumed on our own.

The most famous quote expressing this comes from Shakespeare: "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts." 

Shakespeare are implying that all of us are constantly wearing masks. That some people are better actors than others, and he was right.

Person, comes from Old French persone, which derived from Latin persona which means 'actor's mask, character in a play'.

We're all actors in a colossal stage play, with roles to play.

A theatre; maybe you could compare the the actors as blocks—maybe a Jenga? A colossal building blocks that fits perfectly together, forming a cohesive tightly fitting society. Major or minor, each block is a component that serves a purpose to the society—fulfilling our respective roles. Yet that role can be taken away as easy as it was given to you, or even if you worked hard for it.

Why?

There are exactly eight billion people in this world, and these numbers will kept growing. Shall that mask comes off, or if you do not play your role properly, will society still accept you?

No. We are all too easily replaceable.

One block could be filled in or pulled out when the circumstances sees it fit, it's one heck of a big thing, anyways.

Whether it be in your personal life such as friendships, ever heard about trios rarely works? Or in relationships where your lover seems to pay no attention to you any longer and you are left wondering what went wrong? Or perhaps, in your career—where you are thrown out as soon as someone new, someone way younger and capable than you are came around despite pouring your best efforts in that field for so long.

A brief, momentary experience.

Yet some blocks get to never fit in, though. Never knowing how it feels like to be in one. Because it just, never fits in. It remains as a part of the auditorium, sandwiched in between the audience seat.

Say, you desire to inherit a farm or live in the countryside but you don't even have any family nor relatives in this field. Ever wanted to ride a dragon and wear a dazzling heavy armor across the sky? Or have your own restaurant whether it be a Chinese cuisine, maybe not that one but a pizza restaurant where you serve millions of people? Start your own business startup, sign all those contracts with the tycoons and earn that huge bucks of stacks but just don't have the time, energy, and capital to do so? Or maybe a pet shop because you had the unrealistic wish to own dozens of pet breeds?

Want to go through the nine-month process of pregnancy but all the post-pregnancy effects has your face cringing in fear? Or you just wanted to have a small cozy home yet you're too broke to even afford one? A healthy relationship, a functional family? A loving mother? Sure. A responsible father? On the way! Or you just wanted to feel loved? The bare minimum of all?

Sometimes, we're not so satisfied with the roles we end up in—that we are engulfed with a desire.

It could just be a mere hobby, to escape reality, a stress reliever, or to be part of a story you've never been and desires to be in. Its a role that deviates from who you are, from the hands of judgement of the court, where no one can judge you. To live as someone.

A virtual experiences. An immersion. A roleplay. A recreation. A simulation. Whatever you call it, all of them was meant to satisfy. To satisfy an urge, a want, a need—a desire for something. To feel something. To fill in this hollow void within.

To relive what was lost or to live what never existed in the first place.

Because why do we even read stories in the first place, then?

Something you can only do behind that screen, just a second away from your digits.

A chance.

And you were being given the second chance to relive those experience one more time, without having to give something in return.

It is one in a lifetime chance, the fact they don't give this freely to anyone enticed you, tempted you.

You desired to be love and craved for with no care for limit. For you were sure as hell no one would go crazy for you in this life. For you, yanderes are the epitome of love that are eternal and immortal. Anyone can say what they want to, but this kind love, no matter how toxic it may be, are divinely tempting.

For once, you wanted to be loved, not to love.

What harm would it do to you, even? Unless this game pulled a dirty trick of asking you to pay a heavy sum of bucks after, then it go screw itself, you could just press the exit button as swift as you can but for now, you'll see to it.

You accepted the package.

Pressing the button, a set of gift boxes in a variety of colours in their ribbons appeared much to your surprise, floating around in a rhythmic motion accompanied by a new BGM before settling down in a row at the bottom of your screen.

Curious, yet intrigued—you tapped on each gift box.

➤ .. 🎁 HEARTY EYES: APPEARANCE INCREASED BY 10 POINTS!

➤ .. 🎁 LOVE POTION: A WHIFF OF ROSY SCENT!

➤ .. 🎁REPUTATION METER: INCREASE BY 5 POINTS!

New XPs and skills made its appearance one by one, lighting up your eyes with delight and excitement. This new additional gifts would surely help you in your second try! A final gift box appeared out of blue much to your surprise, there's one more? Gulping down with giddiness, exceedingly curious of what it could contain, you tapped it with no hesitation.

➤ .. 🎁 DRESS-UP DARLING, THE GRAND INVITATION: REVEL IN YOUR NEW SKIN!

Eh? Invitation? Skin..?

You rubbed your heavy lids, for what purpose would you need a new skin for? Brows knitted deeply together deeply the peculiar package. Perhaps it could contained some extra points that may increase your appearance judging by its title.

New skin..

You accepted the gift box, and to your surprise—it returned you back to the options of play again, or return to the main menu in which you pressed the latter. What? That's it? No such thing as redirecting you into a fishy website, or all those eye-boggling digits?

Breathing out a small wow, although short-lived as your jaw dropped. Gasping after noticing the devil hours glaring back at you—illuminating your dark eyebags in blue hues—the sequences of events where your employer scolded you, slamming the colossal bold title of 'fired'—sending you in sheer panic.

Placing it under your pillow on your right side, you hurried to sleep as you tucked yourself in your cozy blankets.

Pitch black cloaked the entire expanse of the sky, yet the hush of the moon herself—conquered with vigor, casted a soothing spell—beckoning your heavy lids to succumb to its embrace.

Drifting into the darkness, you did.

Unbeknownst to you, a glow of light flickers beneath your pillow—illuminating the edge of your slumber face, approaching like mist— overshadowing the moon—dusting half of your nose a stroke of rosy tint, morphing into a heavier shade that consumes your face, to scathing your entire skin in streaks of crimson.

It progressively crawled out like an animated form of blood, dripping down your bed and onto your floor—morphing into razor sharp fingers that obscured your windows from the outside world.

Submerging your window in deep red, illustrating the image of an apocalyptic day.

The floor, your furniture, your closet—enveloped by its approaching force—bathing everything it could see in red. Returning to your side, it tucks your locks behind your ear before slithering across your arm, twirling around and settling on the table by the bed.

A display screen glowed amidst the flaming red, typing out a text:

APRIL 8, 2026 ➤ .. Good night, my darling.

The ceiling of your room greeted your drowsy lids. You groaned, irritated by the rays of the sun peering through the gaps of the curtain—casting its searing heat on your face.

You shifted your body where your back faces the window, your hands instinctively searching for your phone under your pillow, frowning when you couldn't grab anything.

Head clouded with slumber, you were sure you had placed it right there. Shifting your body once more, yawning as you stretched your hands on the bedside table.

There it is!

Raising your eyelids a bit, you tapped your phone's screen twice expecting to be greeted by your lock screen. Eyebrows knitting deeply as you quickly paused, rubbing your eyes to get a better look.

"Huh?"

Stunned by the peculiar color of rosy pink blotting your blurry vision. You felt the cold material in your palms, searching for the supposedly touch screen but it was too small and slim—hold on. You jammed your thumb in-between the two layers, flicking it open.

The heck is this? A flip phone? You were sure you've threw your barely working flip phone years ago. And it wasn't even p-pink?

Your sleep-dazed brain swirls with deeper confusion as you navigated through the strange tiny icons. All dripping in pink much to your disbelief.

Favors? Schedule? Student info? What the heck is all this weird stuffs? Your eyes widened when you finally notice the three-digit clock, it propels your body to tense almost immediately, sitting right up with eyes blown wide.

A high-pitched of whines escapes your lips. You're in for a great risk of getting fired today. You pulled the blanket off your frame, hurrying to get ready before all the eerie prospects in your mind come true—

Huh? Hold on.

Your body halted when you put your bare feet on the floor, eyes falling on a carpet that strangely looks a tad bit different than it used to. The patterns? The color? Groaning, you passed it off as another trick your brain playing on you as you just woke up. You rubbed your groggy eyes, yawning as you sprinted to the bathroom.

You really got no time for this, mumbling as you grabbed your toothbrush, putting a toothpaste on it before pushing into your mouth. So much for playing the damn game, now you're terribly, terribly late.

A fatal hit to your ten year streak as a diligent corporate worker. Now that you thought of it, a sigh escapes amidst the bubbles in your mouth. After awhile, with this mundane average life of yours that you've lived over the years, you've begin to wonder when will the time come for you to save up enough money to be able to quit? You've never had even a single vacation out of embarrassment and consideration for your co-workers.

At some point, you've felt like you were an automatic machine repeating and completing the same tasks every single day for ten years. It came to a brief thought that perhaps you were only truly living at night.

If only there's a world where you an escape to for awhile, away from this boring reality. But there's no way that world exists. If only you could—

Thoughts halted, looking at your reflection in the mirror. There is something wrong, and no, it's not your face—though you look strangely youthful? Leaning closer, you inspected your features with furrowed brows. Dark eyebags and the wrinkles nowhere to be found.

Eh?

Heck, you weren't that old, for sure. Yet you look slightly younger for some reason. Squinting your eyes, you stood a few inches away from the mirror, pulling a random poses as you try to observe anything you could find. Poking your cheeks that was strangely supple, a stark contrast of the hollow cheekbones you captured in your camera a few days ago, complaining to your friend of how you were aging so rapidly.

All those random beauty products she recommended to you finally worked out? Or was it the short burst of sleep you got? Knitting your eyebrows together at the thought as you resumed brushing your teeth, it can't be though?

Wait. Hold on.

You let out a gasp, snapping your head behind to you where your bathtub stood in it's glory. That's it. That's the shit. That pristine ceramic shooting rays against your face.

You don't have a fucking bathtub.

Where did that giant heck of a thing came from?

You've spent all your years dreaming for one, to submerged yourself in bubbles to chill in after a long day of work.

However to do that, a better apartment and an extra space is what you needed first, where you could put everything in their respective place. Having everything meld into one small room is mentally exhausting, and that wish only seems get further and further away from your grasp when that five digits holding the thread of your life keeps slamming you back to reality, leaving you cramped up inside your tiny apartment.

Maybe this is the sign that you should just be grateful and not to be greedy for more. But..

But this thing—is truly in front of you.

You took a few steps backwards to take a full view of the bathroom; it's oddly familiar but unfamiliar at the same time. You were sure you've seen this somewhere but you can't put it right in your mouth. With confusion hanging in your head so deep, you took a few gargles—finishing up.

Thinking back to it, this bathtub kind of look familiar.

You stood by the door, pausing for a thought you tilt your head sideways.

Something is amiss and it begin to sink in.

This is not your room.

With the realization setting in complete form, you stood there in bewilderment—snapping your head around, observing the unfamiliar furniture and corners of this strange room.

Where are you? And what the hell is that uniform hanging at the wall for? Are you perhaps having a lucid dream, where you could feel pain and all that sort of stuff? It must be those weird YouTube videos you've watched over the past few days.

Somehow, this looks like.. This looks like just like—

No way, though. You let out a nervous laugh. Pinching your cheeks hard, you let out a terribly loud 'ow', frowning at the throbbing pain. Why the heck does it hurts so much?!

➤ .. WELCOME, DARLING! I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU FOR SO LONG!

You lose your balance, letting out a high-pitched scream from your throat—tipping off your sole when a huge floating pink object emerged out of nothing at your face. A computer display?! Almost like the science fiction films you've watched, it resembled a hologram but much, much more vivid and vibrant, floating before you.

A p-popup?

"W—what? Huh?!" Elbows digging on the floor, your expressions contorts into an amalgamation of fear and confusion. You hissed at the throbbing pain on your butt, rubbing it off to ease the pain. Why the heck does it hurt so much?!

You notice as it swiftly typed out a question.

➤ .. OH MY... HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN?

What is that thing?..

"W-what? What did I forgot?" Stammering, you blurted out without much thought.

➤ .. YOU LOSE LAST NIGHT. WHICH IS QUITE UNFORTUNATE, YET IT IS TO BE EXPECTED, AFTER ALL.

"The heck are you talking about?"

➤ .. YOU'RE IN MY GAME.. IN THE WORLD OF YANDERE SIMULATOR!

It took you a whole minute to process the words, laying there on your elbows. Until a high-pitched laughter spills out of your mouth, legs kicking in frantic motions as you try to push yourself up to stand.

Yandere Simulator? The game you were playing?

Bursting into another round of giggles, holding your stomach with your arms at this newfound joke. "M-me? In a game? More like in a dream!"

After what seem like a long laugh. You let out a huge exhale, now completely sure that this is a dream.

"Okay, wake up now," You slapped yourself on the cheek lightly a few times, clearing your throat as you shut your eyes tight. "You're too freaking obsessed with that game for god's sake. Wake up, wake up!"

A few beats of silence echoes.

You open your left eye, taking a peek. But to your disappointment, you're still in this weird dream.

➤ .. YOU'RE IN MY GAME. DON'T YOU GET IT?

You ignored it. Rushing back to the bed, tucking yourself in the blankets. Go back to sleep, idiot. You screamed in your head.

A robotic giggle suddenly hit your ears, forcing your eyes to open as goosebumps riled across your skin.

That thing is giggling for fuck's sake, you thought. It bounces as its pink color flickers on and off, syncing with its giggles.

➤ .. WELL, I'LL LEAVE IT UP TO YOU TO FIND IT OUT YOURSELF THEN. IT'S A GAME AFTER ALL!

Your jaw dropped. It disappeared. More like vanishes into nothing like how it appeared out of blue. What? You weren't imagining things, do you? It w-was there, just now!

You immediately stood up, with your foot planted firmly on the floor, urgency and nervousness amplified with every second.

A game? How ridiculous.

This place that somehow resembles the game you've been playing for awhile now, it's complete nonsense. Your brain tries to search for an answer and your face beams up.

Or perhaps is it the end of the world? Have Earth been conquered at last?! Were all those news from thirteen years ago were real? Repulsed by the idea, you lose your tipping trying to make sense of this holographic square before you.

But wait, Earth is too dumb for aliens to even consider to conquer. Maybe you've had time traveled? Shit. Have you accidentally teleported into the future where cities had advanced in great lengths and technology? It could explain why that weird thing just now resembles those science-fiction stuffs.

"Am I.." You pointed towards yourself, voicing out a scary question. "In the future? Like 3000-ish or something?"

No? Thank god.

Wait, this could be lucid dreaming, though.

The fact that you're having a dream of the game, it must've been triggered by your outbursts of your failure last night. Such a vivid and immersive experience, there's no more fitting answer than that. Were you so damn obsessed with the entire game to lead you this point?

You scoffed in disbelief, placing your hands on your waist as you poked your cheek with your tongue. This is stupid.

If this is a lucid dream, then.. If you recall it correctly, to exit out of it—it requires you to say a script out loud, or perhaps do a particular action such as exiting a door or running across a hallway to mimic the speed of time, so as to accelerate your brain back to its conscious mode.

Appalled by the sequences of this strange dream, you made up your mind as your eyes darted over the door. Here you go! Pushing the door open with your might, you're greeted by a strange hall filled with rooms on your either side. This is strange, you thought. Without wasting any more time, you sprinted down the stairs where you can see a ray of light illuminating the bottom of the stairs.

Jumping off, you took a leap—landing on your feet with a thud.

"Dear, what's going on?"

You froze on the spot.

That voice. That face. It can't be..

W-what is t-this?

You haven't heard it for so long. How long had it been? You lose your footing on the stairs, covering your mouth as your hand trembles, mimicking the rampant movement of your pupils. This portrait before you, one that was long forgotten, one you've last seen so long ago.

"H-how?" You found yourself falling into your father's arms, feeling his warmth. The sensation of his freezing palms when you held it in the morgue crashes back to your head. Am I in heaven?

Were you actually dead?

"D-dad!" You wailed in his arms, gasping for air, you tried to wrap your head in this dilemma. "Y-you know that I m-miss you so much! Why did you left without saying anything?!"

No response.

Wiping off the tears off your eyes as you pulled away, trying to take one more look at your long dead father. He can't be here, you've seen it, with your own two eyes when he was buried sixty feet underground.

But this man right here, that face. You're not mistaken. From the head to toe, it was just like the day you've last seen him. "You- you aren't real, are you?"

"Honey, sweetie, breakfast is ready!"

The voice of your mother caught you off guard, eyes darting swiftly at the door across the room—caught off guard by the voice calling for you from the kitchen. Mom? Why is she— Beside her, your elder sister and younger brother are seated in the dining room, waving their palms at you,

"M-mom? Sis? What are you all doing here?"

With questions growing havoc inside you, the appearance of your mother preparing food in the kitchen puzzled you deeper. You look over at the dining room where your siblings are seated, indulging in their phones with your father now joining them in the middle—reading his newspaper for the day.

A scene all too familiar that it crawls all over your skin with rampant fear.

Home. It felt like home. But at the same time.. its not.

"Am I really dreaming?" You cupped your face, feeling the evident warmth of your blood rushing to your cheeks.

"What's wrong?"

Your soul shrinks at that voice. A gasp escapes your throat as thousand no's shrouded your head knowing all too well that this is purely impossible. Before you knew it, tears spill once more from your eyes as you turned your head towards that voice—however this one bears no longing, nor sorrow—it was resentment swirling with humiliation.

The visage that brought your whole world crumbling into pieces, flooding back a long forgotten winter that cripples away your will to wait for the next spring.

You feel yourself turning small, vulnerable—a thousand needles absorbing into your ribs. "What are you doing-" Whimpering, you casted nervous glances at everyone, "W-why is h-he here..?"

Taking a few step backwards, as you release a shaky breathe.

"W-who let him in?"

You frantically glance at your family, desperate for a response, an answer. Whereby the pitch of your voice growing louder with every second that passes as they only casted you a spine-chilling stare.

A long, empty one.

"Who let him in here?!" You repeated.

"Sister? What's wrong?" He tilted his head down, bearing an innocent expression.

"S-sister?" You emitted a scoff of disbelief, raising your arm to harshly point at him and then towards the door. "What sick game are you playing?! Get out! Get out!"

"Why are you saying that to your brother, honey?"

"Brother? M-mom— Are you being for real?!"

"Why, honey? He is your brother, you grew up together."

You were on the verge of cursing when suddenly your family—every single of them, suddenly stood in synchronization.

Alarmed by the downright frightening scene, your feet instinctively step backwards. "W-what's going on?"

If fear was something you'd never truly comprehend before, then this one tops it all.

"What's going on?" Each one of them repeated the same sentence, voices layered on top of another, resembling a cult ritual. "Darling. This is your reality." They all look back at you.

Your heart palpitate rapidly, every muscle in your body pulsated in sheer terror. Voice dripped in heavy desperation, only for it to come out louder than you expected it to. "What the fuck?!"

Suddenly, the familiar robotic giggle reaches your ears from behind.

➤ .. SO HOW'D YOU LIKE MY GIFT? ➤ .. I BROUGHT THEM HERE FOR YOU, ➤ .. SO YOU WON'T BE SO LONELY.

Your blood-shot eyes snapped to its direction, stumbling backwards on the stairs with terror engulfing your soul.

"W-who are you?" You yelled at the top of your lungs. "What are you?!"

That thing resembling a computer display carries such a heavy presence with it, you can feel it crawling in your soul—the display screen gnawing at your frame despite its lack of facial expression. Mimicking your movement and the text box flashing in timed intervals indicating its next reply didn't do nothing but give you a heavy uneasiness.

This unsettling energy it carries as it begins to type out a new sentence.

You are aching so bad to get away from this thing as far as you can.

➤ .. WHAT CAN I SAY, WHAT AM I? JUST A LITTLE POP-UP TO GUIDE YOU IN THIS WORLD.

Your frown deepens, "Guide m-me? What?"

➤ .. I TOLD YOU, DIDN'T I? YOU'RE IN A GAME.

"Stop that bullshit! Just what kind of nightmare is this?!" Smacking yourself in the cheeks once more, yet harder than you did the first time.

With trembling hands, you try to force yourself to wake up from this terrifying nightmare.

➤ .. "TAKE A LOOK AROUND FOR YOURSELF, THEN, AND SEE WHERE YOU ARE STANDING RIGHT NOW. ➤ .. DOESN'T IT LOOK FAMILIAR?"

Splayed fingers over your eyes, you observed the whole space.

These peculiar animated expressions despite the humane features, despite being the faces you've held love for—it's akin to machines having a prosthetic skin glued on it, mimicking the data installed in their drive.

But it can't be. It's just completely impossible for you even to wrap it around your head.

You, in a game?

Heart rampant. Clammy hands. Your feet frantically deciding which way to go. Before your eyes caught on to the sun rays peering behind the closed curtains, rushing towards it— swiftly pulling it open.

No. It can't be.

With disjointed thoughts, eyes darting around you. You searched for logical explanations yet with this pounding chest, trying to form a coherent sentence. Your mind says that it can't be possible, but your eyes are saying otherwise.

"T-there's no w-way."

Yet as you turned your head to every single thing in this house, your blood runs colder and colder. Every single furniture you've tapped on a screen are now before your eyes. The hours you spent on navigating around the living room, before going on with your missions and side tasks—it was now all here.

All before your eyes. Where your fingers could feel the physical edges and corners. Every single thing.

➤ .. "YES YOU ARE! AIN'T IT FUN? A WHOLE NEW IMMERSIVE EXPERIENCE! ➤ .. YOU CAN NOW MEET JUNGWON, HIMSELF!"

No.

There's no way this was possible. You can't accept it. No. No. No.

"No, t-this is not it!" Stammering, you shook your head frantically. "T-this is n-not what I wanted!"

➤ .. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN? ➤ .. DON'T YOU DESIRE TO MEET YOUR FAVOURITE BOY WITH YOUR OWN EYES?"

In your head, it sinks in deeper and thoroughly.

"I don't- I don't care!" Panic emerges inside you. "Is there a way out? There must be, right?! I don't want to stay here!"

➤ .. "OF COURSE YOU DO! WHY ELSE WOULD YOU TRY TO PLAY TWICE?"

"This is not what I mean!"

It came out louder than you expected, laced with sheer desperation as it finally sank in.

The ground doesn't feel real. Even this feet of yours. Everything is so out of place. The pitch of your voice spills out longer, dramatic and exaggerated. Your breathing grew heavier yet short, as if it were being pressed down by sheer gravity.

You look down on your hands, inspecting the finger prints yet it took just that before you clawed down your head as you imagined yourself in this vast virtual world where no one is alive but you.

You wanted to go back.

➤ .. "YOU DO. IT IS WHAT YOU WANTED IN THE FIRST PLACE. YOU'VE ACCEPTED MY INVITATION, REMEMBER? ➤ .. AND I DID NOTHING BUT GRANTED IT WITH PLIGHT."

You see nothing but red.

"Stop twisting my words." You spat out. "No! Bring me back! Th—this isn't what I wanted! You—whatever you are, please!"

"Just bring me back, to my home! I don't want to stay here!"

The pop-up remains silent, not typing out any response to your pleas.

The prospects of being trapped in here forever without any form of escape shrouded your thought with numerous case of scenarios of how lonely it would be, how scary it would be, rendering you to be totally emotional.

"How was I even able to get inside a game? That just isn't possible! Wake up, wake up!" You smacked yourself in the cheeks, pinching your arm only for you to let out a yelp.

It just floated, despite bearing no eyes. You felt like it was looking down on you with glee.

"Answer me! This was never stated anywhere in the game!"

Clutching on the table near you, struggling to keep yourself steady and composure.

You twisted your feet inwards, launching yourself to throw a punch at that thing, however it vanishes—causing you to fall on your hands. Hissing, It didn't deter you from trying once more, filling the space with your screams and profanities, however your humane limits is nothing in comparison with the swift and flawless dodges of the virtual pop-up.

You tried, over and over again.

Getting up countless of times, but not even a stroke of your finger could you land a hit on it.

➤ .. AN ADMIRABLE EFFORT, I MUST SAY. ➤ .. YET IT'S POINTLESS, MY DARLING.

Your feet paused on its tracks, exhausted beyond your limit. Fringe latching on your sweaty skin as you dropped on your knees in despair.

This... can't be your reality.

Clenching your fist tight, you pushed yourself up, racing towards the door, slamming it open only for you to squint your eyes at the blaring morning sunlight. Pushing you to look down to your bare feet planted against the asphalt, a strange feeling beneath your soles. It should've been ceramic..

Your body stiff as your eyes were presented with a sight you've never seen before.

Last night, you were inside your run-down apartment, three stories high where you could see the city tower beyond. Instead of the stairs greeting you in the morning when you opened your door, a gate stood across from you. High-rise buildings are nowhere to be seen, that should've been in high up there once you lifted your head up.

There was no way you could've been suddenly in a damn house. In a strange place. And in a town with its architecture's nothing close to where you came from.

Snapping your head to look behind you. Your stomach twisted and shattered in pits. It is that house.

➤ .. "ESCAPING IS FUTILE, MY DARLING. ➤ .. THIS WORLD IS ENDLESS, LIMITLESS. ➤ .. THERE'S NO POINT OF RETURN."

"Please, let me go!"

You can't be here. You still have work today. What if you lose your job? You have no knowledge of how time works here and there. Dropping on your knees, you crawled towards it—unsure of where to hold it, you clasped your hands together. "Please! I can't be here, I still have work! I still have to pay my bills! I— I haven't—"

➤ .. "WHAT ARE YOU SAYING, DARLING? YOU AINT A FULL-FLEDGED ADULT YET. ➤ .. LOOK! YOU'RE GONNA BE LATE!"

It turns around to gesture inside the house, towards the clock on the wall—pulling your tear-filled eyes over it which are currently hovering at 7 AM sharp.

➤ .. "IT'S TIME TO GO TO SCHOOL."

"Bitch!" You spat out, gritting your teeth. "I've graduated eleven years ago! I don't want to play your stupid game!"

Screaming at it at the top of your lungs, growing desperate as the truth begins to sink in every passing second. Propelling your body to react in ways. Crying you did, sinking your body down in unfathomable depth of helplessness.

➤ .. "OH, DON'T CRY, MY SWEET DARLING."

"Is there really no way. . Out?" You mumbled to yourself amidst all the sniffing and heavy gasps. Overwhelmed by the truth alone.

➤ ..YOU JUST HAVE TO PLAY, AND PERHAPS YOU MAY BE ABLE TO RETURN. ➤ .. ALTHOUGH I DO NOT UNDERSTAND YOU HUMANS, I THOUGHT YOU WANTED A BIG HOUSE LIKE THIS ONE. ➤ .. WEREN'T YOU JUST WISHING TO LIVE IN A MORE COMFORTABLE SPACE?

That hits you. It struck the spot inside you where it was most vulnerable. How did it know? You were terrified to ask. Glaring at it with seething rage,

"Whoever you are, I refuse to play your sick game! Who knows what else you got under your sleeve!"

➤ .. AW, SO, YOU DO NOT DESIRE TO LIVE ANYMORE?

Tongue tied, of course you don't want to.

It's not like you were fed up with life to that point despite even after all those years. This wasn't part of the plan. Not in a game where you'll meet your worse death in dreams. This wasn't where you wish to move to, and you refuse to submit. You still wanted to marry. Find a good man and have your own little family—one that is filled with tiny giggles.

"No. You can't force me to play." Clenching your jaw, you spat at it with spite. "I don't care if you kill me. Fuck you and your game!"

Your shaky breath and the searing rays of the sun echoes and echoes, the only thing that was compensating for its lack of response. As it didn't type out any sentences, as if it was trying to comprehend your sentences into its mechanisms.

Until it did.

➤ .. THAT'S NEW, INTERESTING!

It beams up much to your bewilderment, looking almost too delighted? The colors on its display glowed a few shades brighter, compensating for its lack of facial expressions.

➤ .. IF PERHAPS YOU FRET THAT YOU'LL BE LONELY, THEN DON'T BE! YOU ARE NEVER TRULY ALONE IN THIS WORLD.

"They aren't real." You spat out.

➤ .. THEY ARE, BUT NOT FOR LONG

Your eyes widened. "What do you mean..?"

XO ! ii. NEVERLAND'S SONARE

Youthful.

You scanned your features in the mirror, fingertips grazing over the skin under your eyes—where heavy and dark eyebags use to persists, giving you a feeble appearance. Your employer often points it out with distasteful comments, expressing with disdain of how your haggard looks might deter potential clients away and bring discomfort to customers. Of how you ruin the atmosphere, his mood, specifically when you appeared. He often compares you with your fellow co-workers that seemed to look after their appearances with ease.

You complied, yet despite your best efforts in treating it, it just never seems to go away. But now, such a youthful look only to be laced with sullen eyes—not bearing even an ounce of energy.

Everyone wishes to be young once more. What is youth if not to run wild and free across whatever land you may imagine? Away from whatever life you wished to run from?

Not all people define youth the same way, though. To others, it may mean physical appearances. Downing a bunch of so-called youth pills, going through dozens of procedures, going under the knife, or the fantasy aspects of searching for the youth of fountain.

Some people, though—it meant going back to the way they was before a certain event had happened. The innocent little them that was filled with vigor and curiosity for life. Those vivid memories. These kind of people go through therapies, though.

Youth, youth.

What a funny word.

Yet it has such a deepened effect, a strong grasp on everyone's heads. But would ever they accept to be in a game just for that sake?

Another, yet different popup appears before you, displaying a few options.

▶ TELEPORT TO SCHOOL

▶ TELEPORT TO TOWN

▶ TELEPORT TO BASEMENT

What a sick joke.

"Honey? Shouldn't you sit down for breakfast?"

You halted in your steps, gripping your backpack's strap. Perturbed by the scene of your family with your ex-boyfriend by the dining table, this was peak nightmare.

Suppressing the need to scoff at the image of your 'mother', it will never sit right with you, to sit down on the same table with the characters replicated as your family. Even more so with the replica of your father. So fucking twisted.

Your arms ache to embrace him but this is not your father. A home is supposed to be your bed of comfort, a shelter for protection yet this gives you an overwhelming feeling of strangers clumped up in one space. And him. You couldn't comprehend a single thing. Fitting so tightly, but never seems to belong together.

"I'm.." You gulped down, "Not hungry." You said, a little low for them to hear. But does that even matter? When they will eventually forget it, and return to their soulless routine.

You stepped out of the house for the second time, turning even more helpless and small by the sheer size of this map. This city. The street. The open shops. The pedestrian street. Its people. Children crossing the street with glee and joy.

Their innocent laughter sickens you, twisting the pit of your stomach.

The chill spring breeze blows a mouthful of cherry petals across the path ahead of you, dripping with the warm rays of the morning sun, accompanied by the chirping birds above the trees.

It almost looks too real. Just like all these younglings clad in their brightest uniforms mingling and walking alongside you, behind you, and in front of you—shrouding your line of vision, filling the air with their chatters and laughter.

The entrance to the academy greets your eyes with its opulent golden gate, the same scene that you often see whenever you started the game in your phone.

To stand in front of it was beyond your wildest dreams. A sense of dread envelops your body as you begin to step in, seeing the NPCs functioning according their monotonous coding; the teachers conversing with each other, and the students taking of their shoes and replacing it with the school's ones, heading to their respective classrooms or whatever their routine was for the day.

You gulped down, doing the same thing.

Sandwiched in-between them qualms your entire being, turning your legs into noodles. You almost losing your footing when you accidentally bumped against one of the NPCs, apologizing profusely which they in turn gave you subtle weirded out reaction before going off.

Your peripheral view caught the sight of the rooms; faculty, sewing, and so on. As you stood there, observing and observing; your eyes fell on a student with a camera on their hand, being wary of everyone else. Across the hall, you found the familiar scene of the martial arts club's members walking in a straight line. The occult club's leader strolling on his own as usual. The luscious partly dyed hair fading across the stairs, with their sweater knotted around their torso.

You still find it hard to believe, lost in your shrouded thoughts.

"Ugh!" You stumbled, almost falling on the floor if not for your quick reflex of gripping the nearest table. Turning your head to the brief apology behind you, you held the need to scoff. Of course, what is there to be surprised of?

"Oh! Sorry, didn't know you were here. You got too close, after all."

Neatly combed ginger hair, with eyes turning into crescents paired with a sweet smile. A sickening one, truth to be told. The all too familiar armband wrapped around their left arm and that pristine white uniform; the student council.

Your greatest enemy in this virtual world.

Equipped with spectacular wits, eagled eyes waiting for you to make one single mistake, hands itching to throw you into the faculty room once you do so. These students, five of them, in fact—don't trust you a single bit. You recalled the days of how pissed you were whenever they're suddenly appeared, ruining your mission, forcing you to restart all over again.

You mumbled a small it's okay, and she nodded in response, heading off to the opposite direction but not before taking a small peek at you. A gesture that is greatly embedded in their code. If anything, apart from the teachers and cops, the council is something you really have to watch out for.

Dealing with them isn't an easy feat, even trying to kill them is nearly impossible if you don't join the martial arts club first. All that club practices, and skills you have to increase. It was already difficult enough before, and now that you had to do it with your own hands. Things won't get easier from now on.

You'd have to memorize their routine in your mind to properly avoid them.

On the east side of the academy, you head to the second floor where across the hall—classroom 2-1 greets your line of vision. Your feet halted as your ears caught on the conversations of the students chattering about and on, some other students arriving at the spot.

Gripping tightly at the straps of your backpack as your eyes met the cold floor, blotted with differing size of shoes. You muster the strength to lift your head, where beyond you witness—the hymns of the cherry blossom in the courtyard reaches the space, serving as a visual instrumentation to this pretend play; set of movements controlled and navigated by the game's mechanisms.

And there he was as expected.

Across the classroom, beside the window—you could see Nishimura Ri-ki gazing out the vast field with pure concentration.

You made your way to your seat where it is highlighted by pink flurry lights.

Pulling the chair back, you seated yourself down. A wave of uncertainty washes over your soul now that you had the complete view of this classroom. You look beside you when you felt eyes drilling a hole on your head, only to see the boy staring at you down with an uninterested look, or rather an expression you were unable to read. Not caring any less by the obvious fact that he was caught.

"What are you looking at?" You asked, puzzled by the boy's deepened stare, striking a chord in your soul.

"As if I'm looking at you." Ri-ki mumbles, chin buried on his palms.

Taken aback by his lack of manners, you scoffed in disbelief. "E-excuse me?"

He rips his gaze on your frame, yawning as he stretches—deeply confusing you of this new set of movements and dialogues. It appalled you further when he just stood up, leaving as if nothing happened at all.

"Hey!" You called out, but he went on simply ignoring you.

You frowned at his lack of manners, but well it is to be expected as he is the youngest among the yanderes, he'd been in the same class as you since you started the game. Yet you've never got the chance to approach him as there were no dialogues option. He was a close off, deep in his world type of teenager. You could only see him around his members, and mostly Jake.

That's why it surprises you that he talks for the first time.

Or rather that he was surprisingly rude.

You'd forgotten a huge portion of information related to him due to his profile being situated in the very bottom, but he's supposedly attending the Drama Club but dropped out of it after skipping the club activities for nearly two weeks.

So.. everything functions like how it would in the real world, except for their repeated codes and routines. You'd thought that they would act like NPCs in the first place like the ones back in your home but you were proven otherwise, because they were not here yet.

The students in this classroom are.

You no longer have to press buttons, and all those generic options to gain social and reputation points. You would no longer need to approach them first to talk with the.

But for some reason, that words that didn't even amount to a proper conversation stirs something in you. It affected you. Because it felt too real. Almost like you were back in the real world seconds ago. But how is that even possible when you already knew why this virtual world ceases to exist.

Why it existed in the first place.

You held your composure as you seated yourself in the back of this classroom, with everything to bathe in your line of vision. A perfect audience seat to witness this orchestration of parody, of theatre, of life—surrounded with noises, yet it's so hollow.

The word "weird" is not the right word to describe your feeling right now. It was as if you were existing in-between space and time. A world that is in-between.

You don't belong here, yet at the same time, you do. You are alone, but you are not exactly alone.

Biting your lip, you clenched a fistful of your skirt as you lowered your head down, shutting your eyes tight.

➤ .. WHY DID YOU CHOOSE THIS GAME?

Appalled by its question, you remained silent---in which it lets out a robotic giggle paired with what you assumed to be a kaomoji.

➤ .. DON'T BE SHY! THERE'S NO SHAME IN DESIRING TO BE LOVED. TO BE THIRSTED FOR, AND TO BE CARED FOR, DON'T ALL WE? ➤ .. YOU PLAYED THIS GAME KNOWING WHAT ITS BASED ON, BUT DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW THIS GAME WORKS?

"Quit messing with me." You spat out.

➤ .. ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT. YOU GUESS IT! WHAT MAKES A HUMAN, A HUMAN. WHAT MAKES THEM ALIVE. WHAT MAKES THEM, THEM; THEIR PSYCHE. ➤ .. SHALL A PLAYER LOSE; A FRAGMENT OF THEIR PSYCHE IS APPLIED IN THE GAME WHICH IN TURN MORPHS INTO A NEW FEATURE IN THE GAME. ➤ .. THE SHELL, WHICH IS THEIR BODY---IS UP TO ME TO DECIDE WHAT I'D LIKE TO DO WITH IT. ➤ .. ABSORPTION AS I CALL IT, YOU HUMANS CALLS IT 'UPDATE'!

"Ab-absorption?" As you read along the lines, something leaks out from behind your ribs. "Are you saying that there were.. p-people before me?"

➤ .. VERY SMART, MY DARLING. YES, EVERY SOUL IS SPECIAL AND UNIQUE, ➤ .. THEY BRING A WHOLE NEW FLAVOR TO THE GAME. WHAT THE GAME MAY TAKE, IT WILL DO SO ACCORDINGLY WITH THE HEART OF THE HOST. THE HEART DECIDES. ➤ .. ANY PSYCHE; LIGHT OR DARK; WHATEVER HAS THE MOST IMPACT IN THEIR SOUL ARE PULLED INTO THIS GAME. THEREFORE YOU CAN SAY, EACH PLAYER INFLUENCES THE GAME. ➤ .. YOU CAN CALL IT, THE PROOF OF THEIR LIFE. EMOTIONS, THEY'RE THE ONLY THING THAT IS ETERNAL AND IMMORTAL.

"Shoot!"

Students bursts into a fit of laughter, playing a silly game before class.

A groan surfaces.

"Guys, stop being so noisy. I'm trying to concentrate here!"

"Concentrate, on what? Exams?"

A round of giggles followed after.

Clawing your fingers over your head as you try to push off all these sounds, all these meaningless conversations. You knew this set of dialogues will be repeated again, again and again. Noises that don't held any thing in them.

A subtle knock echoed amidst the petty ordeals, capturing the classroom's concentration out of whatever they were currently at.

Numerous sets of eyes fell on the fragile and tiny frame of a girl with a bandana wrapped around her head, as she carries a tray full of baked muffins; a familiar image of a member of the cooking club.

"Hey, anyone wanna taste some muffins I made?"

A round of cheers and bouts of exclaimed hungers send shivers down your spine. You watched as each of them took their turns, taking the muffin from the tray.

"Hey,"

With heavy eyes, you met hers that was wholly empty, like looking into a deepest depths of a well, wondering if you'll ever capture something in motion, only to be greeted with somber reality that there was not.

"Want one?" Hair dripping in jet black, tied up in a half updo bun. Those words floated out of her faint pink lips that had subtle bite marks on them, it seems old and scarred. A gentle voice that complements her soft features. "Been trying to perfect this recipe, can you give me your feedback after you tasted it?"

Perfect.. perfect what?

You suppressed the need to scoff, instead forcing a painful smile as you took the muffin from the tray. "Thanks."

"Hanni! It tastes so good!"

"Oh my god, really? I'm so glad!"

All these faces.. This sheer size of the game, the fact that they were all here, meant that no one has ever truly won this game.

➤ .. THAT ..WILL BE YOUR ENDING IF YOU LOSE, WHEN YOU FAIL—THEY WILL, TOO END UP HERE WITH YOU. ➤ .. ISN'T IT LOVELY? ➤ .. BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER THEY SAY, YET THIS EMOTION CALLED 'AFFECTION' IS A LOT MORE STRONGER. YOUR AFFECTION FOR THEM IS THE REASON THEY'RE ABLE TO BE REPLICATED IN THE FIRST PLACE. I DON'T SEE WHAT'S THE PROBLEM THOUGH, ATLEAST YOU'LL BE WITH YOUR FAMILY! ➤ .. WON'T THAT STILL BE A HAPPY ENDING FOR YOU?

How is that a happy ending? You couldn't utter that one question. How is any of these a happy ending?

You laughed. A short yet broken one, with your eyes getting blotted with swirls. Sucking your lips in as you tried to understand it, yet your eyes mirrors your thoughts; pacing round and round. You don't even know where to begin. What even is this madness? It's insane. Terribly insane.

So, all this time.. You were playing a game made out of real people? Real people who used to live?

A stupid, stupid game you once found imminent solace in, are nothing but a mass graveyard. You could at least stand it a bit more if you weren't walking alongside with people that used to live. But no.

No wonder why this world is so vast.

Even that word is an understatement. A virtual world you could spend all your day in it. No. It's a stage, a dollhouse where the audience is also its mastermind, with strings attached on the puppets—ripping, tweaking, weaving, piecing together into an amalgamation of their desired character.

Those missing people plastered on posters all round the alleyways and all else, with a trace nowhere to be seen, as if they never existed in the first place. You've wondered if perhaps this is where they've fallen into. Some of them.

You wonder how each of them met their end? All of them must have failed in numerous ways, but one thing is clear; they lose and that's what leads them to their current state—once a fallen player, their existence will be wiped out..

From everything they've ever been, subjected to a monstrous aftermath.

A monster that preys and feeds on people's desires. A monster that rewrites new scenarios, events, and all sorts accordingly every time someone falls in and loses—then it makes perfectly sense, absorbing the players in it keeps the game alive.

How cruel.

You shook your head, breaking your brain in half trying to search for a way. "I'll play! Just please, don't put my family into this!"

➤ .. THAT IS NOT HOW IT WORKS, MY DARLING. THE ONLY WAY FOR THEM TO AVOID GETTING SUCK IN HERE WITH YOU IS FOR YOU TO 'UNLOVE' THEM. ➤ .. WOULD YOU BE ABLE TO DO THAT?

Your head fell down in agony. There's no way you could do that. That is beyond reality. You don't fell out love with someone in just a day, do you?

➤ .. NO RIGHT? ➤ .. WHY'D YOU THINK YOUR EX-BOYFRIEND WAS ABLE TO BE REPLICATED IN THE FIRST PLACE?

➤ .. THAT'S VERY WELL THE REASON WHY THIS GAME WILL REMAIN IMMORTAL WITH ITS HOSTS' ETERNAL SOULS. ➤ .. NOTHING IS ETERNAL BUT A HUMAN'S SOUL. WHY'D YOU THINK A MERE OBJECT COULD HOLD CURSES AND PROMISES? FEELINGS IMMORTALIZED EVERYTHING. ➤ .. HUMAN NATURE IS SO COMPLEX AND STRONG, YET SO FRAGILE. IT LEAKS OUT WHEN ITS BROKEN. SO LONG AS HUMANS BEAR THESE FORCES, NOTHING WILL EVER FLOATS AWAY. ISN'T THAT FASCINATING?

"Wait," You lifted your eyes from the floor, gulping down. "How about the yanderes themselves? W-were they once real people too?"

Its pink shade glowed and dimmed down.

➤ .. WHO KNOWS? ➤ .. WHAT DO YOU THINK? ➤ .. THAT IS FOR YOU TO KNOW WHEN YOU SUCCEEDED.

There it goes again. Playing with you.

"Then how do I win?" The question came out dry, filled with nothing but helplessness.

➤ .. YOU KNOW VERY WELL THE ANSWER YOURSELF, DARLING. IT'S SIMPLE. ➤ .. JUST MAKE SURE YOU GET TO BE THE ONE TO TIGHTEN HIS HEART STRINGS, AND NO ONE ELSE. ➤ .. AND THAT IS TO ELIMINATE ALL THOSE OBSTACLES THAT STRIVES TO BE THE APPLE OF HIS EYES. ➤ .. YOU MUST BE IT INSTEAD. ➤ .. AND YOU DO KNOW WHAT IT TAKES TO ACHIEVE THAT, RIGHT?

Right, it's very simple it's almost hilarious. You'll end up just like any side character if you fail to become the yandere's darling.

The law of attraction. You attract what you desire. Yet often times, you received it in the most twisted forms presented by life.

If you want to live, you have to make sure he falls for you and no one else.

These yanderes are unable to discern between genders. Male or female, any breathing living being is a threat in their love-sick perspective. The mere, mere you are perceived in this light where just being close with their darling regardless of proximity and labels—is as easy as labelling you a sore thumb or better yet a pest that latches to what they deemed as theirs.

Because to them, who the fuck do you think you are? You don't even deserve to breath the same air or step in the same ground as their darling. Absurd. But to them, their darling is the source of their oxygen. Taking away what gets them going is the same as murdering them. That's basically refusing them their human rights, you know?

So if you don't get that—then in their eyes, you're better off dead because you don't deserve it either.

They adorned this bright smile around everyone, being friendly and welcoming but beneath that facade was a seething intricate web of lies and manipulation, waiting to strike. If you were too dumb to notice or deduce all the signs, then it will only be by the end of the day, when the sun has set, when it's the moonlight's turn to conquer—will you only then know, that you've dug the path to your grave.

A creature governed by heart, molded by its whims and beats. Turning into a recipe for disaster.

Exhilarating, you're drawn to this very concept ever since. However, even when you've wish for this beings to exist, prayed for them even. It was never in your wildest dreams that you'd be stuck in a game with one.

➤ .. ANY INQUIRIES, YOU MAY CHECK YOUR FLIP PHONE. IT CONTAINS EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW LIKE A HANDBOOK."

You fished out the object in question from your pockets, the flip phone back in the morning—it remains heavy on your palms despite its lightweight material, as it bears your life—containing everything.

Inside this, you are able to check everything that is necessary for you to know; tasks, favors, schedule, inventory, etc. The date is set in the year 2026, yet the phones they used were from twenty years ago—a world where social media hasn't reached its peak yet.

It's a world that stood in the midst of everything.

➤ .. FLIP PHONES WAS NOT A MAJOR FEATURE UNTIL ONE PLAYER WHO HAD AN OBSESSION WITH IT, FAIL. FASCINATING, ISN'T?

A world that is centered around its players' psyche. Then what will your existence bring into this game?

Only time could tell.

➤ .. GOOD LUCK!

Survive.

Yes. That's all I have to do.

The moment you lose everything that is you, you will be nothing but a part of the long lost souls in this deserted land of twisted roleplay game.

You just have to get through it. Make sure not to fail this time. Make him fall for you and not anyone else.

And him. Jungwon. You have to meet him soon. However you can't rush, one wrong move like you did will cost everything

There's one thing you have to consider though—your reputation; forget about getting close to Jungwon, your reputation meter itself is the second most important to your existence here as without it, you're but a burden to the society. The black sheep. You're basically nonexistent here.

All because of that choices and dialogues you've chosen so far in the game, you've set yourself up for failure. The pointer at your meter bar are hovering over the black section. You are left exactly of where you last played last night. The stakes are exceedingly high, dimming down every chance of light to come down your way.

You were already lucky enough to not have your progress reset, however that meant nothing but being perceived as one of Jungwon's rejected love confessions. A girl that has lose his favor. You'd have to find a way somehow to regain your reputation back and most importantly, his heart.

Pretend play, just like playhouse.

Your eyes lingered beyond the window, observing how the petals floated down. But how and where do you even begin? If you recalled it correctly; apart from attending classes, Jungwon's routine consists of hanging around with his friends, spend his alone time in the courtyard, attend his club practices, and then catch up with his friends outside the school's entrance after school. It won't be long till a girl comes around and sandwich herself into his life.

You cannot waste anymore time.

He must be roaming around the academy as of now, most certainly hanging around with his friends. The first period would be done about an hour from now, and he'd be occupied with his routine as well too.

But how the heck do you even approach him again? It would be so awkward and weird in his perspective when a girl he rejected, acts all lovey-dovey, and shameless at that. You might be even labelled as a weirdo, not knowing her boundaries despite being rejected.

Somehow, someway.. You would eventually have to resort to such methods. As much as you loathe the very word, they can either be your obstacles or you an turn them into your weapon. But can you even find the heart to do so? No, that's not the right question, are you even capable of doing that?

Your thoughts were interrupted by footsteps approaching from the distance, revealing a girl with shock illustrated all over her visage.

"Oh my god, guys! This is insane! You have to see this! There's a love confession happening in the courtyard and it's no one other than Yang Jungwon!"

She almost lose her footing as she relayed the message with downright glee, only for a multitude of questions and profanities to rose up in response.

"What?! Who is it?"

"Eh, who?"

"Wait, what?" It came out as a soft whisper, yet a stark contrast of your terror-filled eyes widening, an ear-wrenching creak from your chair emitted because of how you stood up so quickly, following after them.

What do you mean, a love confession?! I haven't even started yet!

The halls quake immensely like soldiers in their training, seas of shoes slammed against the floor all while multitude of questions arose in your head, where the words spilling out of the students' lips running alongside you only amplified your perennial dread.

Please, please, do not accept it! Please-

You let out harsh yelp when you suddenly collided against someone in full-force, forcing you to fall on your back. Your face scrunched at the throbbing pain in your muscles, clutching your back with greeted teeth. A series of grunts and hisses are layered on top of yours—cussing about how you should watch your steps. Your eyes shoot open, turning your head beside you—only to be met with another member of the Yanderes.

Park Sunghoon. The side of his face planted on the floor, whilst his books and assignment papers scattered about in a mess.

Horror engulfed your features, immediately pushing yourself up. Apologizing profusely as you collected the books and the papers, gathering them in your arms, rearranging them back neatly.

The boy slowly sat up with disheveled hair, lifting his head up with grim expression and narrowed eyes behind those glasses—specifically directed at you. Getting up on his knees, he dusted his pants with a hiss all while fixing his vest back.

"I see that you have eyes just like everyone else," Sunghoon leans forward, an intimidating aura emitting from him causing you to step backwards. "Atleast watch where you're going?"

His lips twisted in a sneer as he spoke, clearly showing you that he is not at all impressed by your clumsy mistake.

"I-I'm sorry—" You stammered, your eyes trembles as it met his brown ones, despite being obscured by the faint lens, it was immensely vivid; swirling in the sands of the sizzling dessert, fiery and intense—you could feel it scorching in your skin, a stark contrast from his icy skin.

So close, you could examine his features decorated with moles, and down at his faint red lips. He did not say anything, yet those blazing pupils examined your features as if it was searching for something.

This is not good. A potential yandere. You don't know why, but you had this inkling creeping inside you that you shouldn't associate yourself with other yanderes except for Jungwon.

"Kid," Leaning away, he let outs a 'tsk' with a frown, perching up the rims of his glasses neatly on the bridge of his nose before snatching his stuffs from your arms, using his other hand to gesture towards his eyes. "Next time, use your eyes more."

Finishing it up by shooting you a glare, and then heading off. You stood there in bewilderment as his silhouette faded in the distance, wondering what had just happened.

Yet you let out a relief exhale.

Park Sunghoon. What was it about him again? The generic description of him being an icy prince bounces back in your head, turning on a beaming lightbulb. Despite being labelled as that, he attends the Cooking Club much to everyone's surprise, together with his fellow member Jay.

The two of them often spent the afterhours experimenting with recipes, forcing their fellow members to taste the dishes they made. It was returned with a slight acknowledgement from Heeseung, commenting that it's not bad, followed by a couple of nods from rest. However you recalled how your stomach aches during a bout of laughter when Jungwon almost choked after—

Wait! You snapped your head behind you, the love confession!

Sprinting to the location where many other students gathered in front of the window shoulder-to-shoulder.

The glass panes of the academy were filled up to the brim, spilling with faces illustrated with variety of expressions; intrigue, interest, disbelief, and envy—all pushing their heads out to get a much better view of the courtyard. The entire commotion echoing the morbid chaos of Baroque paintings.

Yours was illustrated with an invisible weight of a noose looped around your neck. An invisible weight of stones slamming against your face as you halted your steps, nearing the edge of the window.

Like an auditorium with their utmost concentration glued on the stage; a theatre play of a romantic tale, an union of two hearts yet its nothing but a masquerade of your eventual execution.

As beyond that window, a girl you've never seen stood before him. Propelling your eyes to rattle in immense storm, your heart sailing in amidst the raging crimson ocean.

W-where the fuck did she even came from?

It should've been you.

It should've been you beside him—

Your face stiffened, a gasp caught in the back of your throat as your lips fell apart in inches. Everything slowed down except him; everyone, that girl, and you.

This heart behind your ribcage palpitates in a different motion; striking a chord that pounded your veins, till it submerged your eardrums in its frenzied rush. The desire to let yourself fall in his arms grew immense.

Your pupils snapping and panning closer akin to a camera lens, searching deeper for the features that spells your purpose for life. Closer. You couldn't make out the outline of his face. Trying one more time, blinking frantically as the rims of your eyes tears up.

There he was, standing in the courtyard—Yang Jungwon under the the cherry blossom tree, where the dropping petals adorned his visage, bringing in the saccharine touch of life. Exuding sheer perfection, captivating the audience's heart.

This charming aura he carries, laid-back demeanor, the way his fringe sways alike silk with the hush of the spring breeze. It's all too exhilarating. Heartstrings looped around your poor heart. Moonstruck. It propels your eyes to shy away like the moon does.

Chaos.

You wince at the sudden increase of volume reaching your ears, clutching your ears as you yelp with your eyes shut tight.

This trance-like spell, you snapped out of it with terror. Noticing the rosy tint that engulfs your vision whenever it fell on him. This entire landscape bathing in saccharine pink. The rhythm of your heart mimicking his breathing patterns, it aches. How your eyes swell into love-sick hearts against the window's reflection. It perturbed your soul.

What the fuck. This isn't you.

A fatal trouble, you're truly deep into it.

It felt like your face were being pushed into a well against your will.

It must be the game mechanism turning you this way—to be thrown into the same state as the game character you were playing, it sends chills down your spine. You slapped yourself to reality. He isn't real.

"What is she doing?"

"Is that Minji?"

Your ears caught on to the name spilling out of numerous arrays of lips.

That girl, Kim Minji. Enunciating the name on the tip of your tongue, it prompted your head to tilt sideways in confusion. You've never heard or encounter this character in the game before, or perhaps you've miss her existence by not bothering to check the entire NPCs' list.

But..

You were given a second chance to play one more time, so why is there another girl here..? This game functions on love confession, and who ever the girl is—if its accepted by your chosen yandere—then she won.

It will be game over.

However you were dead sure, today wasn't Friday yet. Fishing out your flip phone from your pockets, you flicked it open—eyes widening in fear as the date displays the third day of the week, Wednesday. Two days before the supposed deadline.

"Jungwon, I like you!"

The three words you've been dreading she had uttered.

She immediately shut her eyes tight with her cheeks illustrated with the deep hues of a blossoming rose, eyebrows knitted together, gripping her skirt into shambles within her digits.

Your knuckles involuntarily clenched on the edge of the window.

A series of gasps and murmurs emitted in unison, forming a rather comical orchestration. Some finds it utterly hilarious, leaning into their friend's ears—uttering about how Jungwon would never find her interesting and that her confession was all too vain. There are plenty of interesting faces dripped in the finest wines in the seas of cherry blossoms, far more suitable and deserving of his love, so how could she—a mere girl—are able to catch his interest?

Your lips fell slightly apart, not being able to process the words you're hearing right now as that girl is what you definitely would not call 'mere'. Hush whispers and gossips followed through, one after another, refusing to fleet into nothingness—as it was stuck in the heavy pungent jealousy, tied even tighter with woven prayers for Jungwon to reject her.

They kept chanting; a fool. She's a fool. A fool is all she is. A love confession in the courtyard, for everyone to see. She's setting herself up as the object of amusement, a clown of the year.

This game is truly twisted.

Silence eventually befalls as everyone waited in patience, ribs swelling down with the amount of breathe they took in their lungs, anticipating for Jungwon's answer.

The boy opens his mouth, his expressions unreadable. The tension heavy in weight, with everyone paralyzed and stuck between the two answers. Lips are sewn tight. Wishes differ. Yet those four words bears the flame to your torch of life.

If he.. if Yang Jungwon says yes to this love confession, you're gone for good. Vapored away. Spelling the end of your existence.

Please. Prayers shrouded your mind.

Please don't accept it.

I haven't even started yet!

His outstretched palms reached for the girl's, "I like you too, Minji." Jungwon pulls a shy smile, an affectionate gaze swirling in his eyes.

The girl in question, were filled with aghast, her eyes swimming in bliss as she covered her mouth with her hands.

It was as if time had stopped.

His response elicited a spur of tumultuous reactions from every single student present in the academy; one helping out their passed out friend, with one choking on their sandwich, and the other with their jaw dropped on the ground—while you, are having flashes of your death and your family's tragic end; the scene of you lying down in a pool of blood, while the members of your family falling down into the game—where all of you will eventually lose your consciousness—memories and identities vanishing from the world as if you didn't exist at all.

T-this can't be happening. You shook your head in denial.

Your line of vision drowning into the distant sea, morphing into a crashing storm. Swallowing a sore lump down your throat, you gripped the window's edge, fingers rattling as you watched the entire ordeal playing out.

A portrayal of parody.

It's hopeless. You are going to die.

These rampant thoughts piled up one after another in your head, clouding you with sporadic paranoia as your feet turned outwards, walking away, slowly accelerating in speed—hugging yourself as you choke up on your tears.

XO ! iii. PERSONA

You're done for.

Hiding in the storage room, curling yourself down as you covered your head with your hands. With a thousand apologies to your family all while waiting for death to come and get you. You lamented the day you ever came to found this game.

A pink glow of light illuminated the soles of your feet, turning the space into a well-lit theatre—with you as the main spotlight.

➤ .. WHAT'S WITH ALL THAT FACE?

"I lose." With a hoarse voice and tears dried, you look down your palms---observing its deepened etches. "It's game over."

➤ ..GAME OVER? WHO SAYS? ➤ .. YOU KNOW YOU STILL CAN GET HIM.

"What do you mean I can? He already accepted it! Wasn't that the point?"

➤ .. ACCEPTED WHAT? THE LOVE CONFESSION? THAT DOESN'T MEAN ANYTHING, A GIRLFRIEND IS ALL SHE IS ➤ .. NOT HIS DARLING.

"H-huh?"

➤ .. HIS EYES.. A LOOK OF FONDNESS IS ALL HE HAD FOR THAT GIRL, NOT THE LOOK OF OBSESSION. HIS LOVE METER HAVEN'T EVOLVED INTO WHAT WE CALL A YANDERE METER. THEIR RELATIONSHIP HAD JUST STARTED IN LESS THAN 40 MINUTES. ➤ .. THAT'S WHY YOU HAVE TO GET HIM BACK, AS QUICK AS YOU CAN, BEFORE HE FALL DEEPER. BECAUSE IF HE DOES, DEPENDING ON THE ROUTES YOU TAKE, YOU MIGHT BE UNFORTUNATE TO UNLOCK THE ENDING WHERE YOU ARE MURDERED BY THE YANDERE HIMSELF.

"Get him back? How am I supposed to do that?" How is he supposed to look at you now that he already had a lover, whom he'd rather spend time with? Even if he hasn't turn into a yandere yet, that doesn't make anything easier.

Both paths remains bleak, filled with razor-sharp spikes protruded ahead.

➤ .. WHATEVER YOU MAY CHOOSE TO GO WITH; RUIN HER REPUTATION BY SPREADING RUMOURS, THAT WOULD DO THE TRICK BY GETTING JUNGWON WARY OF HER. BUT ITS QUITE A HASSLE, AND DOESN'T DO YOU AY GOOD AS YOUR REPUTATION IS NOT THE VERY LEAST INTERESTING TO LOOK AT.

You obviously can't.

Gossiping is a deal-breaker. You might've accomplished your goal by tainting her reputation but the price in return accost you in the end. It doesn't benefit you at all as you will be labelled as the 'gossiper'.

➤ .. MAYBE YOU COULD GET HER EXPELLED, BY PUTTING FORBIDDEN STUFFS IN HER BOOKBAG. BUT THAT'S RATHER RISKY? THERE ARE COUNTLESS OF METHODS, YOU CHOOSE.

You remain silent, shaky pupils boring a hole on your hands as you weighed the risks. The receiver of the greater risk is always you. A single mistake costs everything.

➤ .. THEN YOU CAN KILL HER.

Your eyes widened. "No.." Your head shook on its own. "I c-can't do that."

➤ .. WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH IT? ➤ ..IF YOU WANT TO PLAY IT SAFE, PERHAPS GET SOME RAT POISON FROM THE MARKET. SHE WILL BE GONE BEFORE YOU KNEW IT. IT WOULD BE A SPECTACLE, A SIGHT, EVEN!

"I. Will. Not. Kill. Her."

You emphasized, stressing each single word, showing your resolute determination.

There's no way you'd stoop down that low.

Its suggestion was beyond your capability of understanding, nor was it an acceptable one in the first place. You've failed to comprehend how it can utter such chilling topic in such a leisure manner.

And there was no way you could ever bring yourself to witness them relive death for the second time.

➤ .. HUH? WHO CARES? THEY'RE ALREADY GONE, WHAT'S ALL THAT REMORSEFUL LOOK FOR?

It just doesn't feel right. It doesn't sit well with you.

Who were they before they fell into this game?

What did they do?

What did they love to do?

What were their last words before they were gone?

It imbued your insides with a heavy weight, driven with guilt to think of these people with lives they used to hold that was now nothing but an empty hollow shell. Their flesh and skin used as a mere toy.

They aren't just people to you. People aren't static objects. They're beings.

Everywhere you look; all you could see was people that once a life worth of memories before, now sucked up and absorbed as nothing but a code of repetition, and the proof of them living now but a feature that glares against your face.

They're now a burning memory.

➤ .. THIS IS WHAT THE GAME IS FOR, YOU'D THINK YOU STILL HAD YOUR MORALITY INTACT? YOU DON'T SEEM TO CARE MUCH FOR THEM WHEN YOU GO ON A KILL STREAK THAT DAY?

"That doesn't count!" You exclaimed, gritting your teeth. "I never knew they were real people—like who would have think so?"

➤ .. BUT YOU ENJOYED IT. ➤ .. I'VE NOT YET FORGOTTEN HOW YOUR EYES LOOKS LIKE THAT DAY.

Hissing with desperation, you looked down on your splayed hands.

"No.. It was never supposed to be like this." You shook your head, "The game doesn't even work this way, I was suppose to get him before the love confession, two days before Friday! What did you change?!"

➤ .. DON'T YOU GET IT? ➤ .. YOU'VE FAILED ONCE. I DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT YOUR PROGRESS BEING RESET, DARLING. THIS WAS AFTER YOUR 'GAME OVER'. ➤ .. IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR SOUL, YOU ARE GIVEN A SECOND CHANCE TO REDEEM YOURSELF BEHIND THE SCENES. ➤ .. WITH HIGHER STAKES, OF COURSE.

Tears begin to spill from your eyes, "No. . I can't win this way."

Lips trembling as you say so, memories from the past rushing back and flooding your insides with a heavy weight.

Higher stakes? For what? All you wanted was to play. To get into your little fantasy world, devoid of stress. The world was already too far from perfect. With this fucked up corporate life, filled with capitalism, never-ending bills---at this point, you're only surviving through all of it, not living.

But have you been really living all this time?

Everything else in the world has far more worst things that happened to them than you do. But with this small void in your heart, it shouldn't be wrong to be embrace by a little warmth, someone to cup your cheeks in their hands as they press a tender kiss on your forehead, right?

It shouldn't be wrong to indulge yourself in your little silly fantasies. So why?

➤ .. SPARE YOURSELF FROM THE ILLUSION OF GAIN WITHOUT SACRIFICE, MY DARLING.

Nothing is truly free.

This world has always given you an illusion of choice but the thing is, nothing is really free. You may have given something in an exchange for nothing, but life will soon claim it in numerous ways and various forms you could never imagine.

➤ .. OH COME ON NOW! ➤ .. AIN'T THIS A ONE LIFETIME CHANCE FOR YOU? ➤ .. YOU COULD GET AWAY WITH MURDER UNLIKE IN THE REAL WORLD!

"That isn't right." Your head drops down in downright despair. "J-just.. just kill me, I can't do this. Your fucking twisted game.."

➤ .. OH DARLING.. WHY BOTHER ABOUT SOME PETTY LIVES BUT YOUR LOVED ONES? ➤ .. WHO WOULD YOU CHOOSE, A STRANGER WHOSE LIFE NO LONGER EXISTS OR YOUR FAMILY WHO STILL HAVE THEIR WHOLE LIVES BEFORE THEM?

You stiffened. How? How did you actually forgot, how can you forget? Your family.. All these emotional outbursts has rendered you totally hopeless to the point you forgot for a split second that you're not the only one at the stake.

"I will not kill her! I'll find a way.." You clasped your head, desperately trying to think of a better option. "There's got to be some way... Right! The match-making method!"

➤ .. HOW FASCINATING.. ➤ .. YOUR MORALS ARE STILL QUITE INTACT DESPITE HAVING YOUR MENTAL PSYCHE SLOWLY REGRESSING.

What? You lifted your head back up, sniffing and gasping. "What are you saying? R-regressed.. w-what?"

➤ .. WELL, I'M CERTAIN THAT YOU'VE NOTICE SOMETHING WAS WRONG WITH YOU?

You remained silent. Yet as your eyes fell on each word it typed out next, it widens in terror.

➤ .. YOUR YOUTHFUL LOOKS.. ARE NOT THE ONLY THING THAT RETURNED, YOUR MENTAL AND EMOTIONAL PSYCHE AS WELL. IN OTHER WORDS, MENTAL REGRESSION. ➤ .. YOU KNOW THE SAYINGS, YOU MAY BE EIGHTY, NINETY, BUT INSIDE YOU'RE STILL THE SAME. ➤ .. I TOLD YOU, DIDN'T I? YOU AIN'T A FULL-FLEDGED ADULT YET.

"You!" Pushing yourself upwards, gritting your teeth.. "What else you didn't tell me about?! You wanted me-" Pointing at yourself harshly. "To play your game yet you're treating your own player like this?"

➤ .. THERE'S NO FUN IN TELLING YOU EVERYTHING AT ONCE. WHAT'S A GAME FOR IF NOT FOR THAT SOLE PURPOSE? ➤ .. YOU FIGURE OUT EVERY SINGLE THING YOURSELF. WHAT AM I, IF NOT A LITTLE POP-UP TO GUIDE YOU ONCE IN AWHILE. ➤ .. THE REST IS UP TO YOUR WITS AND ABILITIES TO SURVIVE.

"What else didn't you tell me then?!" You yelled at the top of your lungs, clenching your fists tight. "Tell me now!"

➤ .. OH DARLING, NOW THAT'S WHAT I LOVE! ALRIGHT, THEN. ➤ .. DO YOU KNOW.. YOU MAY DO AS YOU WANT YET YOU HAVE TO HURRY. ➤ .. BECAUSE YOUR SOUL WON'T WITHSTAND STAYING IN THIS WORLD ANY LONGER.

"W-what do you mean?"

➤ .. RIGHT! I'VE ONLY TOLD YOU WHAT WOULD HAPPEN AFTER YOU LOSE, THE FINAL PHASE OF ABSORPTION. ➤ .. NOT ABOUT THE FIRST PHASE.. YET, THE PROCESS OF ABSORPTION.

The terror swirling inside the pit of your stomach grew tenfold. First phase..?

➤ .. ARE YOU SCARED? DON'T BE! I THOUGHT I'D SPARE YOU FROM THIS KNOWLEDGE A LITTLE BIT LONGER, YET THIS VIGOR OF YOURS INTRIGUES ME. ➤ .. YOU KNOW, ABSORPTION DOESN'T START THE MOMENT YOU FAIL. IT STARTED THE MOMENT YOU'VE ACCEPTED MY INVITATION. ➤ .. YOU CLAIMED YOU DON'T WANT TO KILL, YET DARLING, THAT'S FAR FROM THE TRUTH. YOU'VE ALREADY DONE IT ONCE. ➤ .. BECAUSE THE SKIN IN WHICH YOU WERE PLAYING ALL THIS TIME, THE 'YOU' THAT LOSE LAST NIGHT IS ONE OF THE FALLEN PLAYERS' SKIN. BY ACCEPTING MY INVITATION FOR A SECOND CHANCE, A SECOND TRY. YOU'VE AGREED TO USE YOUR OWN SKIN, REMEMBER? ➤ .. THEREFORE IN THAT VERY MOMENT, IT HAD BEGUN.

Every single word it types out struck you deeper and deeper.

➤ .. AND NOW, YOU'D THINK THAT YOU ARE STILL YOU. WELL YES, IN FACT, YOU STILL ARE. ➤ .. BUT THE FIRST PHASE IS.. HOW CAN I SAY? IT BEGINS.. WITH YOUR YOUTH SLOWLY AND AND GRADUALLY RETURNING BACK. ➤ .. YOU'LL LOOK MORE YOUNGER WITH EACH DAY. ➤ .. AND THEN YOUR SOUL WILL START REGRESSING TO THE VERY MOMENT YOU EXPERIENCE THE PEAK OF EMOTION; JOY, BLISS, LOVE, WRATH.. THE POINT OF LIFE WHERE IT HAS IMPACTED YOU THE MOST. YOU WILL FIND YOUR MEMORIES FROM THAT POINT GROWING MORE VIVID AS IT WAS YOUR FIRST TIME TO EXPERIENCE IT. ➤ .. IN A SENSE, THE YOU FROM THAT PARTICULAR POINT WILL RETURN. ISN'T THAT FUN?

"Are you s-saying," Stuttering, struggling to form coherent words according to what you just read. "T-that everyone," You paused, engulfed with disbelief. "—around here.. was stuck in a particular age?"

➤ .. CORRECT! ITS THE AGE WHERE THEY FEEL THE MOST INTENSE EMOTIONS FOR THE FIRST TIME. ➤ .. KIND OF LIKE, TIME TRAVELLING BUT A LITTLE DIFFERENT!

Your lips fell apart.

Everyone here.. are the manifestation of when their psyche receives the most impact. As if getting absorbed here wasn't enough. They even had to suffer?

➤ .. BUT IT DOESN'T END THERE.

It twirls around, with its pinkness glowing brighter in shade every passing second. It leans closer, looking down at you.

➤ .. TO RETURN TO THE REAL WORLD. YOU WILL HAVE TO CONQUER THE WHIMS OF YOUR CHOSEN ONE'S ➤ .. HOWEVER, THE LONGER YOU TAKE TO WIN HIS HEART. ➤ .. THE MORE YOUR BODY AND SOUL WILL ROT.

"What do you mean by r-rot? In what way.. will I rot?" You stammered, suffocated by the entire revelation.

It beams up so bright it strains your eyes.

➤ ..THE MOMENT IT STOPS RIGHT WHERE YOUR PSYCHE EXACTLY ARE, WHERE IT REMAINS. ➤ .. YOU WILL START TO ROT.. IN A WAY YOU FEAR THE MOST. YOUR FEARS MANIFESTING AND DEVOURING YOU ALMOST LITERALLY! YOU MAY WONDER WHY? HUMANS ROT WHEN THEIR EMOTIONS ARE AMPLIFIED INTO A VOLUME THAT RENDERED THEM UNABLE TO THINK. ➤ .. ISN'T IT FASCINATING? EACH SOUL TRULY HAS ITS UNIQUE FLAVOR, REMEMBER? AND THATS WHAT MAKES EVERY SOUL A FREAK SHOW TO WITNESS!

Sheer terror illuminated your pupils, sucking out each hope of ever returning to the real world.

You could feel it—shreds of your remaining sanity slipping away.

➤ .. THE CODES FEEDS ON HUMAN'S FRAGILITY, MIMICKING ITS COMPLEXITY ALL WHILE ABSORBING ITS HOST AS A PART OF IT. ROLLING OUT FOR THE NEXT INSTALLMENT! ➤ .. THAT IS THE FINAL PHASE. ➤ .. BY THEN, IT IS MY CHOICE WHETHER TO TURN YOU INTO ONE OF MY PAWNS, OR DISCARD YOU. I CAN EITHER TURN THE FALLEN PLAYERS INTO THE NPCS YOU SEE EVERYDAY, LIKE A DOLL! OR INTO THE COLLECTIONS OF SKIN FOR PLAYERS IN THE REAL WORLD TO PLAY. ➤ ..DO YOU GET IT NOW?

No, I don't get it.

You sat there, staring off into the space, chanting that sentence in your head all while dealing with the horrifying fact that your life truly no longer belongs to you. Paralyzed in downright fear.

Tangled in this predicament, called hell.

Not a single reaction surfaces from your face. Your head drops down like a hand stitched doll with its neck ripped in half, showcasing an image of its head supported by a snapping piece of thread. Met with the sight of your shoes, you would really never be able to return home, do you?

"Why.." You mumbled in a low voice.

"I don't get it." Getting up on your knees, filled with despair. The suffocating pain inside you contorts into madness, exploding you finally did. "W-why are you doing this to me?!"

You bawled, yelling at it in the top of your lungs, shaking with rage shook with rage as red hot tears streamed out the rims of your eyes.

"Why did you even exists?" Punching your chest, you flailed your arms around. "Why are you doing this to all of us?!"

"What did we do to you?!" A long, stretched out wail of agony poured out of your throat. "You're a monster!"

"No, am I?"

Your jaw dropped on the ground. As the popup morphs into a pink cat before your very eyes, propelling your body to stumble backwards in panic. It slowly crawled its way to you with its tail growing and stretching out like an organ, till it wraps around your neck in swift motion.

"G-get away! Get away from me!" Its death grip around your neck had you choking, suffocating, gasping for breath.

"Perhaps your lover?"

As the cat forms another new persona—your ex-boyfriend. The rims of your eyes gathered tears. You writhe in pain. legs kicking in frantic motions as those tail are now but long pair of hands suffocating you to death.

"Or your mother?"

The grip loosens, a hand caresses down your temple—wiping off the trailing sweat with such an affectionate manner. Rendering you completely paralyzed by the hands of your 'mother'.

"Or.. my dear pathetic self?"

A deafening slap echoes in the empty air. You clutched your face tight, puzzled and unstable. A mirror. The reflection of you standing before your eyes, yet with her lips twisted in a sneer. A downright replica of you. Every edge of its visage looks exactly like you.

Yet she acts nothing like you.

An orchestration of yourself plays out; spewing all your thoughts, the one you keep yourself. Uttering about how she hates herself for being so stupid. For confessing in the first place. For being such a useless person. Every single thing you kept inside you, she utters with no regards to anything.

"S-stop! Stop doing this to me!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, wailing in agony, covering your ears with your hands to block out the hysterical savageness.

Vulnerable; it was as if your skin were being ripped out, exposing your flesh and blood, everything inside you into a freak show. To see it play out like a drama in front of your eyes humiliated you.

A few beats of silence echoes.

You lifted your wavering eyelashes to see yourself looking down at you with the most menacing smirk.

"This is only a piece of what I have yet to know about you." She tilts her head playfully, approaching you in slow steps. "Remember, the longer you take... The more I get to know you, understand you, act like you, and finally be you. Now do you understand?"

Biting your lip, you force yourself to nod— praying for this nightmare to end once and for all. Your doppelganger broke into a laughter, before her eyes swell into what you can very well decipher as pity.

"Oh, don't look at me that way." She coos, lowering herself down to your fetal position. "It makes me sad, I am neither your enemy or friend. I'm just a little guide, here and there. You wish for a reality where you desire to be craved, and I gave you just that."

She knelt down, extending her palms to you. Your glossy eyes trembled, hesitating. To your surprise, she pulled you into her embrace. Caressing your hair with her palms suffocatingly tender.

"Oh dear me, I just have to take that boy's heart, make him fall for me, make him die for me.."

You barely stifled a yelp of pain when she yanked you away in great force, a gasp spills out of your lips when the same heavy rose pink tint flooded your vision.

"You have to make this man kill for you."

His feline eyes gazing into yours, deep and close—speaking right in front of your face, holding and sinking his fingers on both your arms.

The visage of Jungwon.

He leans in forward, intertwining your both of your wrists in his grip before pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek.

Your cheeks flushed involuntarily as his lips came into contact with your neck, colliding behind your earlobe occasionally—sending tingles of goosebumps across your body.

"Make him hold you close, kiss you, and vow his life to you."

This explicit touches under his visage riled up your hormones, twisting an unfamiliar knot below your belly, alarming you. With your trembling arms, you tried pushed him away with your legs yet his grip tightens on your wrists causing you to hiss in pain—a single teardrop escaping the rim of your eye, mirroring your desire to escape.

Pair of strong arms manhandling you, forcing you into a position. Your ears are deafened by this pounding heart behind your chest, as he wipes off the tear from your cheek with his thumb.

"You know, I recall the days where my previous darlings, all of had given me the best and worthy performances, yet a few stood out the most."

His pretty eyes floated off the distance, as if reminiscing the old days.

"There was this one who didn't care at all of the NPCs in this game. He goes on a kill streak, obsessed with achieving the genocide ending. He amuses me yet was so hasty—he forgot that there was a witness escaping his hands."

A spine-chilling giggle floats out of his lips as he continued. "And another one no longer has the will to live her life whatsoever, leaving herself to rot till the very end."

"Ah! I remember," He beams up, "There was this one boy who was also just like you, he broke down into shambles after knowing everything. He swore he would never hurt anyone, but he soon lose control as he slowly reverts to his younger self, by then he's nothing like he was as an adult. He was so terrified of himself that he threw himself off the school roof."

Humming a certain tune, he gripped your shoulders—lifting your jaw up with her thumb, forcing you to look into her eyes.

"That's why you have to work for it, my darling. You don't have much time, after all. Make him yours, then all of him—he shall dedicate to you."

And then your vision flashes. Dropping on your elbows when the grip holding your wrists up vanishes. With no one in this room but you. Till you lifted your head to see the same pop-up—glowing and floating with ease.

➤ .. SONARE, YOU MAY CALL ME THAT.

Sonare?

Electrocution sparks in your veins, propelling you to wince at your hand. Your back curled involuntarily, clasping your chest almost immediately as you felt something inside. Crawling and devouring.

Its starting.

It's only about time where you'll witness the manifestation of your deepest fears.

➤ .. ISN'T THIS WHAT LIFE IS? IN PURSUIT OF SOMETHING, THAT IS HOW HUMANS LIVE. OR ELSE, HOW ARE YOU ABLE TO MOVE?

Mental regression, your soul rotting, your family. Everything else is at stake.

Clenching your fists tight on the floor, you lifted your head up forcing a short laughter. Tears had dried, only to be replaced with the sticky sensation latching on your cheeks.

"I can ask for your help.. right?"

➤ .. YOU MAY CALL ME WHEN YOU'RE IN DIRE NEED OF HELP, BUT THAT DOESN'T GUARANTEE THAT I'LL ALWAYS COME TO YOUR AID. ➤ .. IT'S NO FUN WHEN PLAYERS KEEPS GETTING HINTS.. ➤ .. YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN NOW.

Death.

A loop that could never be broken. You felt as if your life are slipping away from the tips of your fingers every passing second.

Sniffing in as you wiped off your tears with your collar, you headed to the cafeteria with a heavy heart, you went on with the tray like everyone else. You lost track of time, not having any knowledge of what had happened right after you the entire sequences of events.

You're drained.

Chewing on the meat, you sat alone just as you expected. Everyone else had their own circles, and the canteen are spilling with enmeshed voices in various rhythms. You'd find it kind of comfortable to just listen to back then, even when you'd have no one to talk with, just listening still gives you a little comfort. A fantasy world on your own.

But now all of their conversations is made up of a set of codes, repeating accordingly with their task of the day.

Take a breathe, you tell yourself.

You have a long way to go.

Go back to square one. School rivals. Just how many are there? Ten. There are a total of ten rivals. You had to eliminate all of them to survive.

Before you could even reach him, you'd be dead by all these delinquents, crazy fangirls, and students digging their eyes on you. Acting on your missions possessed great risks.

Just making one single error can cost your life; getting caught by one of the students while acting on your missions means getting expelled. Student councils, teachers, and the detectives themselves. It's such a terribly long path with thorny traps and blood spilled.

Refusing to do your missions. Death.

Getting caught. Death.

Expelled. Death.

Failing to win his heart and turning him a yandere for you. He'll be the one to lead you to your graveyard.

It's either theirs, or yours. They will kill you, he will kill you, unless you kill them first.

An inevitable bloodshed..

A gasp spills out of your throat, with your line of vision dripping in avalanche of blood. No. It isn't blood. Cold red juice drips down your face, washing over your skin with it's freezing temperature making your neck shiver at the contact.

Yet the words that followed after were even more colder, laced with contempt.

"Look at our pathetic one-sided love baby girl having her meal all alone,"

The delinquents. All of them gathered in front of you. Your eyes widened in radical inches. It's impossible. They would've never known! Unless someone has been sneaking on you, telling on you with everyone else. But as far as you've remembered, you've avoided getting under someone's skin.

Was it the occult club? The science club? Or perhaps the gardening club?

But this is really fucked up. The fact that your reputation is at its lowest right now meant everyone can ridicule you, make fun of you, toss you around like a play toy.

Series of sinister giggles spilled out one after another, an orchestration of parody playing out before you. You shudder in great humiliation yet you remain still—you couldn't afford to make anymore mistakes that could lead to you possibly being expelled. This is no longer the silly game you spent on trying to beat, this is now your real world with you are living as it's player.

"It was her fault, anyways. How could she ever think she could gain Jungwon's affection with the way she looks?"

"Right! She's making herself out here as a fool!"

"Pretty, you should've rehearse your love confession a bit. No wonder, Jungwon doesn't find you at the very least interesting. It's so bland, having no flavor! And again, can't you just be grateful for his friendship?"

"Where's your self-respect?"

The vein on your necks protrudes a visible line, hands tensing as you gripped tightly on the fork. Fire pit surging up inside your lungs as you struggle to breathe, desiring to scream at their face.

Don't lose your shit. They're just but an NPCs. They're not who they are anymore. A trap is all that it is.

You've withstand this so many times before, what differences would it make now? So why, are you so fucking pissed off?

Hands trembling as you continued chewing the bread in your mouth, and taking another mouthful bite, filling your cheeks and chewing each piece excruciatingly.

Swallowing it all down your throat with agony, as you recalled Sonare's words.

➤ .. AH, MY DARLING. I JUST WONDER, THOUGH. ➤ .. HOW LONG CAN YOU KEEP THIS NAIVETY OF YOURS? ➤ .. HOW LONG CAN YOU LAST.. BEFORE YOU ACHE TO SHED, TO THIRST FOR BLOOD?

You ran off.

Not before hearing the multitude of mockeries and degradation behind you.

It happens way in a blink of an eye. You didn't know what to do, what to act, what to say—in fear of a single mistake that would cause a heavy damage on your reputation, a massive drop that would push you a little closer to death.

With wobbling legs, you fell on your knees. Palms planted firmly on the asphalt. What was that.. clawing on your soul? This growing desire to snap their necks, images of decapitated heads and limbs flashing through your head.

What you've experienced was beyond you, as if someone had their hands wrapped around your wrist, hushing into your ear to shut their mouth once and for all. You were almost on the verge of slamming that blade in their heads.

Exhaling and inhaling a huge air, it does nothing but deepens the pain in your chest, you feel like you could explode at any moment from now.

"Hey, everything's okay there?"

A hand stretches suddenly before you catching you by surprise, you look up with fleeting curiosity—the hazy image of a girl.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Your shoulders droop down as your vision clears, with the back of her hand stroking down your temples, dark silk-like hair framing her face which only accentuates her doe eyes—Kim Minji.

"You're sweating," Pure concern etched on her features, Minji turned behind her—talking with someone. "She's so pale.. Guys, I think we have to get her to the infirmary room."

Giving a clearer view, your eyes fell on two boys; appearing as a slick black-haired boy, the tag name on his uniform written Jake Sim.

But a particular someone capture your heavy lids—standing next to him; the bane of your existence. Those eyes you had to make yours—to harbor affections, obsessions, and undying fervor; Yang Jungwon.

But how? In his eyes, you're nothing but a girl who had confessed to him, yet rejected. Why the fuck do you have to relive the same humiliation twice?

"Oh, isn't she?—" Jake halted his steps, seemingly surprised after kneeling to take a better look at you. His head turning behind him, locking eyes with Jungwon, where the boy in return has a disinterested look but cleared his throat, approaching closer.

"We have to hurry, she doesn't look too well." Jungwon says, patting Jake's back. "You go ahead, and carry her."

"Oh," Jake complied, turning his attention back to you with the same concern as Minji's in his eyes—walking to your side as he loops his arm around your back, placing other hand under your leg—lifting you up with ease.

With Jungwon following behind, hands in his pockets. Minji says with concern lace in her voice, stroking your cheek. "Hurry, Jake."

The boy in question huffs, where the heavy weight in your head pushes your lids down, dropping your head on his shoulder. The last thing you see was pitch black darkness on the other side of the tunnel, multiple giant hands stretching out to pull you inside it.

Forcing you out of your will, dragging you across the puddled asphalt. You cried out for help, your pleas echoing relentlessly. On the end of the tunnel, you could see hope illustrated in the brightest color of white.

You dragged yourself, crawling on your knees until you reached the end.

The landscape of white snows greeted your eyes. It was cold, freezing your bare skin and neck. You let your face be washed over by the breeze, closing your eyes to heighten its sensation. You're in this place again. This fucked up place.

Two silhouettes fading in the distance, stepping into a cabin caught your attention. Freezing in hell, you'd think the imagery of that underworld would be like how it was depicted in books and so. However here, you feel wholly empty, gnawing at that organ behind your ribcage.

You let your eyes remain on the cabin, recalling what your mother says, that girls shouldn't confess first yet you rejected the very idea; that regardless of gender, everyone should be able to confess their love. You didn't heed her advices, fulfilling your own set of principles, and thus you are left with more questions than answers if the boy ever love you even.

Mother was right, not everyone would reciprocate that love with sincerity and genuineness but instead manipulate it into their own benefit.

You're left behind, asking why? You felt her palms rubbed the back of your head, whispering another waves of words into your ears.

"You should never perceive yourself as a victim."

Don't complain. Once you lament your entire life only on that question, that's where hell breaks loose. Because a victim will only see themselves as one, and no one else.

A frog that frustrates over who threw the stone, lamenting over the question;

.. Why me?

But in your case, you'd like to turn this sentence into,

.. Why not me?

Why didn't he choose me in the end? Why did he choose other over me? Those questions lingered in your head.

All your life, you controlled yourself to a degree even when someone stomped on you. You bear it all, withstand it.

But it wasn't because you were kind. You don't see yourself as one.

Mother never says that, she never tells you to be evil either. Too much on either side will after all, spell your end. Your co-workers might have perceive you in the role of a victim, expressing their concerns and all that. But you don't see why, you don't see yourself as pathetic like everyone does. Even when they say you're pitiful. You don't.

You do not see yourself as pathetic, you were doing it because you just had to. You'd had to be part of this society, to survive.

Why should you live according to others' point view of life? How you view it is up to you. Mother was always right.

She was always right, that you've wanted to give her a call and cry it all out on her shoulder. But you knew that you won't be able to do so, as you've failed her not once but twice. Yet you can't help but mumble to yourself, crying out a helpless whisper.

"Mom, I'm dying."

Your eyes shot wide open.

Four white walls.

Your pupils darted wildly around you before letting out a dejected sigh after recalling what happened before you passed out. With heavy lids, you looked over to your side where you notice Minji sleeping on the edge of the bed.

You recalled the words of your boss upon seeing her.

Back then, even though, you ache to shove something into that bastard's mouth, and perhaps suffocate him to death, you persisted—digging your nails on the back of your hand, leaving a crescent marks on it that lasted for awhile. Because he was right, you'd be a hassle to look at.

Minji was the complete opposite. A visage that exudes a classic beauty, one that enthralls everyone close to her. You haven't know much about her yet, but you could get why Jungwon likes her back.

You held the need to scoff, it's just like how it was back then.

In this world, we are all, after all—easily replaceable.

Everyone was nowhere but her, however you could see the nurse in the other room adjacent to this one. Yet not a trace of Jake including Jungwon himself are at sight. Almost close, yet he slips away from your fingers once more. Upon realizing the cold damp cloth on your forehead, you're left with the question of why she had to go this far.

It's like a game of fate, though.

You didn't expect it would be this easy to get close to her. Almost tempting that your thoughts are almost morphing into ones you despise. With your eyes catching the sight of the syringe on the table across from you, you're compelled to take it and dig it inside her neck. It brought back a wave of nostalgia, a very grim one into your eyes.

You shook your head, praying for these thoughts to go away.

The girl shifted in his movements, raising her eyelids open which met yours much to your surprise. Noticing you're awake, her eyes lit up—pushing herself upright swiftly but now with concern swimming in her pupils as she asks.

"You're awake! Are you feeling okay now?"

Now that she was closer unlike the first time in the courtyard, her voice feels more clearer, to your surprise—it was kind of deep and husky. Like the ebbs and flows of the waves washing over the shore—it was pleasant to the ears.

Perhaps, a distinctive voice that you would probably remember for some time. Was she a singer in her real life? A small sentiment grow within your heart at the fact that she's very much gone already, and that whatever question you may have about what she's like, or regarding to her real life should be discarded as it won't do you any favor.

Vapid shells that once sang the hymns of the oceans. Now nothing but just a relentless roaring of the abyss. You wondered if they ever call for help when the life vanishes out of their eyes?

Licking your dry lips, you tried to push yourself up. Minji placed her palms on your back, assisting you as you sat up. "Slow down."

"You're?" Throat hoarse, you voiced out that question—feigning ignorance. You don't know what to do yet, but you can't let this chance go to waste.

"Minji," Her lips pursed up in a tender smile, "Kim Minji."

"Thanks, Minji." Placing your hand on hers, "For helping me just now."

"You don't need to, plus I wasn't the only one." Minji gestures her thumb behind her, keeping the sweet smile on her lips. "The other guys helped too, but they left awhile ago since your shirt was quite drenched."

"Oh," It was only now that you've realize your shirt was taken off, leaving you in your singlet where the former can be seen hanging on the clothing rack. "Thanks again, sorry for troubling you so much."

Shaking her head profusely, Minji replies with a small pout. "Don't say that, we are suppose to help each other when we're in need, no?"

'Help each other'. It might've done some wonders to your heart if not for the fact that this is not reality. That sentence doesn't sit too well with you in this very game. It feels off, somehow. Still, you nodded your head showing appreciation for her help.

There's a trace of hesitation swimming in her eyes, "You don't look like you were sweating that much though, did something happen?"

The sequences back in the canteen flashes in your mind, reminding you of how you were so close to death. Looking down at your legs covered by the sheets, you mustered the best small smile you can.

"I suppose I have annoyed someone."

"Did you beat up their ass?" Her question caught you off guard, but even more so with her eyes filled with anticipation as she leans closer to you. You were stammering, unsure of what to say until she notices her close proximity—letting out a nervous chuckle as she apologize meekly. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine, I'm used to it."

With a trace of what you can recognize as sympathy, swirls in her eyes. She squeezes your hand, lending you warmth.

"You've been sleeping for two hours now."

"I d-did?" Your eyes widened in shock, realizing that you must've skipped the second period which would lower your reputation meter once again. Grimacing as you cupped your forehead, "Please don't tell me you've skipped your class, too?'

"To be honest, yeah.." Minji pursed up a shy smile, "I'm just worried, you really seem like you're not in a good condition.."

You raise a brow at what she could possibly be implying at, until she finished her sentence.

"You kept saying.. that you're definitely dying." She rested her palms on yours, "Its really concerning so I can't help it but stay here with you. Whatever you're thinking about, you're not alone, okay?"

Ah. Was she thinking that you're trying to commit suicide?

In your peripherals, you could see the nurse approaching with a bottle of pills and a glass of water in her hands. "Migraines,"

As she lends you the glass and the pill, it left you downright baffled. Almost scoffing audibly at the very idea of getting fake pills. What this would do to you even?

"Take it easy, by the way. You've got to look after your health, otherwise it would only worsen and you might have to take a leave for a day or two."

No.

There was no way you could skip school—especially more than two days. Especially not after knowing all of the things that could and would happen once you're away. Not wasting any time, you quickly gulped down the pill down your throat—even when you know that it won't help that much—from this pernicious effects of your pending death.

A silhouette catches your peripherals, lips falling apart when he appears again. Yet as your heart involuntarily calls out for him, the name that floats out of his tongue is her name.

"Minji,"

"Wonnie," That nickname catches you by surprise, seeing the obvious effect on Jungwon's visage—dusting his cheeks with pink. "You're back!"

A reaction that sends a pang into your heart. It only amplified by the way his fingers tucked her hairlocks behind her ear—running his fingers down along her hair with such tenderness. The way his eyes are locked into Minji's—listening to her attentively as she talks—like every word that she utters matters more to him more than anything.

Looking away, you reminded yourself that you aren't in love with him. It's this game's mechanics convincing you that you are. So get yourself back in your senses.

"I see," As he lifted his eyes away from Minji to you, "Are you okay now?" His face turns to blank with dull eyes, despite his question carrying a sense of concern, you could sense it—this colossal wall he raises up around you, as if to shield you away from him.

A sheer gap of how he treats you and Minji is evident. Slammed at your face, even. Its only the first day yet somehow it looks like he's too far in deep.

Was Sonare lying to you again?

Whatever it may be. You're screwed. It won't be long till those eyes of his morph into sinister ones, into a fatal poison that would cost your life.

Forcing the best genuine smile you could muster, casting it on Minji.

"Thanks to Minji, yes."

"Good to hear."

He replies nonchalantly before turning his attention back to his girlfriend, his sugary demeanor surfacing back up. "You haven't eaten yet, so I've grabbed you something to eat from the cafeteria."

"You got me my favorite!" Minji beams up, jaw dropping slightly at the plastic wrapped sandwich and an orange juice box. "Thank you Wonnie."

She grabbed his hand, expressing appreciation to him with her eyes but then confusion surfaces from her visage. With her brows knitted together, she tilted her head a bit further to look behind Jungwon. "Is that all?"

"Yeah?"

"But," She turns to look at you, and then at Jungwon. "You didn't got her one?"

"Oh, sorry. I forgot." Jungwon rub his nap, as he says nonchalantly. "To be fair, that was the last one."

Lie. That's a lie.

You knew that wasn't the truth.

Despite knowing from his profile that Jungwon isn't a liar, nor does he utter white lies for the sake of others. You've remembered another thing once you scrolled down to the section of how he's like once he turns into a yandere; that once he starts falling for the player, he will begin to lie even if its the thing he had swore to never do in the first place.

You could see it. He just doesn't see the reason why he should get another one because you are not that even important to him, so why should he care about your wellbeing? As difficult as it was to swallow it down your throat, this is only the beginning. He'd treat you far more worse with each of his heart slowly dedicating itself to this girl in front of you.

"We'll share then," Minji says, as she breaks the sandwich in half—surprising you and Jungwon. "Here!"

Shaking your head, "H-hey, you don't have to, I'm not that hungry."

"You got to eat," She insisted, pushing the half of the bun on your hand. "You've skipped over lunch too, right?"

"No, I did! I've eaten."

That came out louder than you expected it to as the girl jolted in response but emitted a slight laughter shortly after. She looks back and forth at the foods on her hands, before lifting the other hand with the orange juice box on it.

"Then.. Maybe a drink would do?" Minji asks you with a convincing smile before tilting her head up to Jungwon, seemingly asking for permission. "I'm not that thirsty, anyways."

Jungwon just patted her hair, nodding in silence.

Acknowledging that she probably won't give up, you accepted it—punching the straw in the box, taking a sip from it as you observed the two getting in lost in their own world once more, like how Minji shyly commented how the sandwich tastes a lot more better when Jungwon bought it—the need to grimace amplifies, as your head are shrouded with numerous how's.

Of how to rip them apart from each other.

The match-making method would no longer work in this situation. There was no way you will be able to rip them both off each other without resorting to the very method you've been trying to avoid.

She may no longer have her consciousness intact anymore, but even the image of yourself stabbing her to death repulsed you.

➤ .. TO WIN OVER HIS HEART, TO MAKE HIM YOURS—YOU MUST LOSE YOURSELF, FIGURATIVELY OF COURSE! ➤ .. UNLESS IF YOU FAIL IN DOING SO, YOU'LL PERISH IN WAYS YOU'D NEVER IMAGINE.

You pushed away Sonare's words out of your head with a grimace.

You didn't want to keep imagining it you really don't. However, just how long are you going to keep this up? The fact that you've still yet to decide of what is the best way to get rid of her?

You still have a chance, as Jungwon hasn't turn into a yandere yet.. But it won't be long till he falls deeper for his now-girlfriend, Minji.

"Hold on, Heeseung's calling." Jungwon showed the flip phone's screen to Minji before going outside, which she nodded in return.

You didn't miss how he stroke his fingers on Minji's hair before leaving, a gesture that propels a shy smile in the girl's lips.

It hasn't been a day of them being lovers yet, but why the fuck is he so lovestruck? It only does nothing but distress you further. Plus, its weird.. of how Minji seems to have her guard down before you as if she doesn't know anything about it.

Her amiable acts towards you led you to believe that she was unaware of the events between you and Jungwon. He might've kept it from her, or just didn't see it important enough to tell her. All the way more convincing you that you are nothing to him.

You had to make something, do something in some way.

"Which club are you from, by the way?" You asked, partly of genuine curiosity, and partly because you have to dig in more details of her.

"Oh, I'm haven't join one yet.. But I got my eye on one or two clubs."

"What are they, then?"

"Drama, or the light music club." She replied, her fingers fiddling the hem of her sleeves. "But I'm leaning towards the latter.. because singing has always been my favorite thing to do."

This won't be easy, you thought to yourself.

"That's cool!" Feigning support, "You really do look like one, you know, like a singer."

You captured how her eyes lit up with stars. "You really think so?"

Nodding with no trace of hesitation, she lets out a small chuckle, as if she was suspense with disbelief.

"That's- I just didn't think that anyone would notice," Minji says with her eyes gazing out the window, but as you trace at where she was looking at, her eyes seems to look further than you can reach. "I mean, no has ever said that in this place."

"No one has ever said so?"

"Yeah, you're the first one." She says with a smile you somehow feel genuine, "You got a really good eye, I have to say."

Minji asks back with her attention undivided, leaning forward—seemingly curious as well. "What about you? Are you planning to join one of the clubs here as well?"

To be fair, you haven't join any clubs in this particular server you were playing in. You had some plans to get in the art club or martial club sometime ago, but had long forgotten about it. But now, it seems like the art club is your best bet, for now, that is.

"I was thinking, Ar—" Your words were punctuated by the distant chatters outside this room. Jungwon's voice blending with another, which you can't seem to decipher. But it grew clearer as they approached closer.

Jungwon appeared, with a particular someone following behind him.

"Jesus, I thought someone got hurt when you said you were by the infirmary room." The boy rolled his eyes as he shuts his flip phone. "Hey Minji, and.."

His eyes fell on you.

"Who's this?"

Purple hair framing his face, bouncing on his eyelashes—almost obscuring his doe eyes. The eldest among the yanderes, and the leader of the gaming club—Lee Heeseung. If there was one thing most memorable about him in his profile, is that he has a big obsession with collecting keyboards. Not often spotted around his members as he spent afterhours in the gaming club, playing games all day.

You're surprised that he doesn't look at all malnourished, or close to the stereotypical image of a gamer; disheveled hair, dark eyebags, and a gloomy atmosphere but rather a neat, and well-combed hair, paired with a healthy skin tone. Not what you would expect from someone who is cramped all day in a dimly-lit room.

You'd often wonder how the heck the players who chose him would be able to get him out of his inner world of games and keyboards.

Before Minji could answer, Jungwon did.

"Minji was the one who found her almost passed out behind the academy, so we brought her here."

With a complete air of nonchalance, that is. Since awhile ago, you notice how Jungwon has never laid his eyes on you for more than three seconds, his eyes was everywhere but you.

"So?"

"So what?" Heeseung asked with evident confusion.

"I thought you wanted to say something on the way here?"

"Why am I here again? Ah yes, the club." Heeseung mumbling to himself, before letting out a rather loud 'tsk'.

"What's up with the club?"

"You know what I'm talking about," Heeseung ruffled his hair, pushing his tongue in his cheek. "No, seriously, not one but two of the club members quitted. Like why the fuck didn't they inform me way back then? Such a bummer."

"What are you suppose to do even there?" Minji suddenly asks.

Heeseung turns to look at her, "Gaming?"

"Just gaming?"

"Yeah, what else are you suppose to do then?"

"I seriously don't get why the Gaming Club was approved in the first place." Minji shrugs, in which you shared the same thought as well. She has a point, though.

Back in the real world, you never found the gaming club useful at all. Its benefits where you could do missions through playing games to raise your stats kind of wasted your time.

"Well, you'd probably don't get it." Heeseung rolled his eyes, seemingly finding it useless to banter with her before turning to the boy in front of him. "Anyways, Jake has been considering to quit the drama club. What say you, Jungwon?"

"Me?" Jungwon points at himself, in which the former nodded in response. "Who says I'm leaving my club?"

"Dude, just quit the martial arts club." Heeseung says, with an amused expression trying to stifle a chuckle. "It's not like we have any serial killers around here with their ass for you to kick?"

Somehow, you found yourself stiffening at Heeseung's words.

"I'm in dire need for club members now, Yang."

"Ask others, then?" Jungwon said, "You know how many students wants to join your club, especially the girls."

"No, not the girls, please." Grimacing, Heeseung shook his head. "I don't have anything against girls but the thing is they don't have the same level of passion for gaming," Pointing his index finger on the ground as he continues speaking, "Not in this academy, okay?"

"The boys?"

"Sunghoon and Jay isn't budging the fuck from their recipes, while Sunoo had just joined the occult club a month ago, and Ni-ki?" Heeseung shook his head, facepalming himself. "That kid has no sense of either punctuality or responsibility."

He pauses his words in-between, though—as if a light bulb lighted up in his head.

"Wait, if I could get Jake. Perhaps, Ni-ki would follow along."

"Go for it, then."

A sigh spills out of Heeseung's lips. "The calculation I made for this is undoubtedly fairly low, unfortunately. So please,"

Jungwon only shrugs in return, seemingly putting a thought about it.

"You're my only hope now aside from Jake, or else the faculty room's gonna shut my club down, dude." Desperation evident in Heeseung's voice as he kneels down much to you all's surprise. With Jungwon having to force him to stand up but the latter only pressed on, insisting with no hint of giving up at all.

"Oh god, Heeseung." Minji cups her forehead at the sight playing out in front of her before asking you with her lips pursed up in a smile "Which club was it again, the one you wanted to join?"

"Art club."

Hearing your answer, Minji turns to look at the boy kneeling on the floor. "Guess there's no hope for you then."

Heeseung groaned, mumbling to himself how he wasted his energy going all the way down here.

"By the way, Minji. Aren't you suppose to look for the light club's members now?" Jungwon asks, a question directed to Minji.

"Oh my god!" The girl in question abruptly stands, the chair creaking at the same time. "You're right! I totally forgot about it!"

"I'll accompany you there," Jungwon suggested, stretching his hands out to her. You avoid the image of their hands intertwining, looking the other way.

"(Name), you'll be fine here, right?" Minji asks with enthusiasm, in which you nodded in return, assuring her that its okay. "I'll be back later!"

And so you observed as the two left, with Heeseung following behind them but with a pair of eyes you could see fleeting in the distance.

Footsteps and chatters fading in the distance. You watched the faint marmalade sky, taking a deep sigh as you closed your eyes, rummaging your head of what to do.

You opened your eyes to see that he hasn't left yet.

"Why are you still—"

"Ah, so you're (Name)?" Heeseung pulls away after he read your tag name, standing still all while humming a certain tune, quite familiar to your ears but you can't pinpoint where you did it hear from. "You play games?"

"No." You replied swiftly.

Judging by his first question, it was better if you shut it down fast as you don't have any intention in joining the gaming club, since it doesn't have any advantages or benefits like other clubs does. To summarize it, its a completely useless club.

Tilting his head, you feel the curiosity enveloped in his eyes. "What do you mean by 'no'?"

You raise one brow, confused as to what he was implying at.

"Your eyes," Chuckling, he gestures his fingers over his eyes, "They look like they hurt a lot, that means you must have been playing a whole lot of games."

"If you're planning to ask me to join your club, then sorry, I lose all the time."

"Pity, why don't you join my club then?" He chimes in, insisting with chins buried on his palms. "Perhaps under my tutelage, you'll get really, really good at gaming."

"I don't really care in improving my gaming." You rebutted almost nonchalantly, leaning your head on the pillow as you shut your eyes tight.

"Ugh, so close." Heeseung whines, however seemingly insistent at the topic. "Then why do you play games in the first place?"

"What else do you think?" You looked into his eyes, trying to show him that you're bored.

A few beats of silence.

"I don't think so," Heeseung says, "You don't like someone who would play for pastime."

"What makes you think so?"

"Like I said, your eyes." Heeseung says, "It hurts right?"

You played games for what really?

A game where you can freely act on your desires without inflicting real pain on real people, a fantasy world where you shouldn't cross the line.

A line you wanted someone else to cross for you instead.

You wanted someone to be selfish for you for once. Someone who won't have their love wavers with one look on others. Someone who wouldn't say.. that it wasn't true love.

It just so happens that you found this game. You ended up finding solace in these so-called yanderes where they will only have their eyes on you, where their top priority is the best interest of your heart, an affection that exceeds all boundaries and limits, vowing loyalty that never fleets till the end of their life.

It's hilarious how this beings are the twisted form of that sentence your mother utters; instead of manipulating you and using you like a play toy, it was instead used in a way to make you theirs. You ache for that kind of love. It may be all toxic, yet your body aches to be embraced. You had no hope for these obsession to exist in the real world.

Hence why you could only let out your frustrations and lamentation in this game. It's all about you, only you. That's what you love about it. A virtual world where you can unleash your pain, act on your wildest desires, and appease your hurting soul.

Thoughts come and go. But some just persists, latching in the depths of your soul like a pest, therefore your brain does what its best at—to protect you; keep it, hide it like your dirty laundry, and kicking it off in the deepest and darkest corner.

There was no need to hurt someone else just because you had been hurt yourself. You vowed that to yourself.

However you can't deny that this mind of yours, this soul of yours will never be the same. It's tainted. Smudged. Scarred. You're beyond saving, no matter how you try. You can hide it all you want, yet its there, creeping back up when you're presented with that same image of a dirty laundry.

The very same dirty laundry this game is preying on, urging you to nurture it, to let go of your self. To let yourself snap. To make you go back on your own words. A freak show in its eyes.

Oh, how the tables had turned.

"Not all people play games to get better or become pro at it like you do."

Heeseung hums in response, leaning against the edge of the window. "What type of games do you like?"

"Why do you care?"

"Hey," He scoffed, "So is it classified as weird to ask harmless questions now?"

You rolled your eyes, "It's a game where you have to survive."

"Bingo, I'm a pro at surviving, you see." Heeseung throws you a wink, "I can give you tips on how to win if you let me."

"Unfortunately for you," You covered your eyes with your forearm, giving a signal that he should just leave already. "It's a fucked up game, and I don't like playing games anymore anyways."

"I know that words," The boy snickers, approaching you with growing interest laced in his voice. "Tell me, what is this game that's making you act up like this?"

"It's none of your business."

"It is, gaming is my forte."

"Your forte in gaming won't save you from this one."

"What makes you think I can't?" You could feel his silhouette near the edge of the bed, casting a shadow on you. "All the games I've played, I've won."

No, you've lose. Despite being unsure of whether the yanderes themselves are once real people. You couldn't help but be affected by his words. Scoffing at the irony at the words leaving his mouth, you pulled your forearm from your eyes—pushing yourself to sit upright.

Meeting his eyes, you said. "Haven't you wonder that it must be that you've never found a game that will make you lose, yet?"

"That's why I have to play it, we'll know if we never try." He pressed on, keeping the smirk on his lips.

His confidence and all this words is pushing you towards the brink. Groaning, you let yourself fall back on the pillow. Shifting your body where you back faces him. "You'll definitely lose, I'm telling you."

"What? Does it take two players to win?" Tilting his head in amusement, chuckling. "If you're afraid in hindering me, then I don't suck that bad to the point to be held back by an amateur, you know."

"Not even close." Your frown deepens. "You'll only die."

"It doesn't hurt to try."

"It will hurt."

"C'mon, now."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself."

"What's a game for if not to take risks?" Heeseung smirks, "Its not too different from life, you see. There's a reason why they say life is a game." He leans closer, "We only got one chance in life."

You scoffed with your eyes closed, "I didn't know the gaming club's leader can be this persistent outside his computers, but I guess you are staying true to your role as a gamer."

"Well, you won't excel in life if you don't play your role well."

Finally losing your patience, with your eyes now shot wide open—you pushed yourself upright once more, glaring at him with spite. "Seriously? I thought you said to your friend just now that you don't want any girls to join your club because they don't have that, what was it again?"

Heeseung tilted his head sideways, waiting for you to finish your words.

"Ah, yes, passion." With a clenched jaw, and annoyance plastered on your face—you raise your index finger at him, "So why the fuck are you forcing me to join your club?"

"What? Are you offended about what I said?"

"The thing is, I don't care."

"What I said was true, though." Heeseung bends down to your eye level, "No one here has a passion for gaming like I do."

"So why—"

"But I see in it you." With your eyes locked together with his, you could the deep curiosity swirling within. A hollow well yet so strange it sucks your breath away, like a pair of hands wrapped on the back of your head. "Like I said, your eyes."

You released a shaky breath when he finally pulls away, breaking the intense prolonged eye contact.

"What say you, pretty?" His voice pulls you out, "Maybe I can help you win."

With trembling hands, you spat out. "Leave."

"Alright, alright, I'll be leaving now." Heeseung's voice fades as he heads off to the exit, but your ears caught on his halted steps. "But my offer still stands. In case you change your mind, you know where to find me."

With silence finally enveloping the room, you're left wondering what had just happened. What was that, even?

The leader of the yanderes offering you to join his club, which doesn't serve you any benefits. But as you've given it more thought, perhaps this is the golden chance to get closer to Jungwon, which is through his friends. What better way is it if not through the leader himself?

But if everything went exactly the way you want it to be, what would you do with Minji? After that seemingly genuine conversation with her, it pains your heart to even imagine anything sort that way.

It leaves you more conflicted as time passes, though, as you can't still seem to decide whether joining the gaming club is better than the art club. As tempted as you are, you cannot join the martial arts club. You are certain that it will only push Jungwon away from you.

Instead, the drama club would give you way more benefits with its costume and masks, and Jake was there too but Heeseung had mentioned that he's considering of leaving so there's that. While the cooking club has both Sunghoon and Jay—the unfortunate encounter you had with the former earlier had left you somewhat intimidated by him, and remembering Jay's profile doesn't make you feel any better as he had a shady history.

Perhaps the occult club would be a better option, and Sunoo has been an active member for two months. Despite being one of the yanderes, he's a sweet boy with a cheerful demeanor—and that makes it easier to get close to him. But the overall atmosphere of the other occult members makes you grimace, they don't seem very welcoming in your opinion.

Ruffling your hair in a mess, you clenched your jaw as you couldn't find yourself making the right decision.

What's even the right decision? You are scared. You truly are scared. It has been awhile since you've felt this much dread and fear. You've gotten really good at holding yourself back all this time, doing so well not letting your personal emotions getting the best of you.

But now you aren't so sure anymore.

You weren't sure of which are you scared of more too; was it the fact that your entire existence will be wiped out if you fail, or was it because you'll rot, or was it because everything you've tried so hard to forget will flood back once more?

Or maybe it was everything altogether.

Truth to be told, you're afraid of the you that will slowly return. That part of you that sees herself as a victim and no one else. You didn't want to go back to her anymore.

It was so far back, hazy swirls shrouding your head. You suppressed it in a way. You can no longer remember the details. Yet it was there inside your heart. That reeking dirty laundry swirling your heart, recycling it like a washing machine.

A side of you that deeply perturbs your soul.

Deep down, it also terrifies you that this game will come to understand you soon, more than you do.

A frog that frustrates over who threw the stone, lamenting over the question; "Why me?"

You do not wish to go back to the you from back then. Not anymore.

Your lips fell apart when the atmosphere against your bare skin changes, growing thick and tense as if someone had pressed the pause button. The swaying lush trees beyond the window halted, and the nurse on the other side of the room stood still. The chatters outside are replaced with a deafening silence.

A gasp spills out of your throat when the same pink display screen like Sonare appeared, however instead of texts—list of choices are presented before your eyes.

Whatever you choose to term it with, these set of choices are now the bane of your life. A heavy weight pushing you down as you read each choice, leaving you more distress than ever.

You've got to instill it in your mind that being Jungwon's girlfriend isn't enough, you have to make him die for you—where everything he sees, hear, smell, and taste is you.

If you want to live, you had to.

Make him yours, make him say yes to your love confession.

➤ .. CAN YOU CLIMB UP THE RANKS AND TAKE THE SPOT AS THE ONE AND ONLY BELOVED DARLING OF YOUR YANDERE?

© 2022-2024, pieroulette on [tumblr]. all rights reserved.

📫 qna can be delivered to my sideblog: @yuanvei !

[zorkaya-moved]

Morning, besties. Ya girl is back from her hiatus 1 day early, but only to update y'all beautiful souls about what's going on.

Did u miss seeing me and Zarina on ur dash (say yes 🔪)? ;)

I had the time to just chill out, concentrate on my real life, and understand that I'll be doing some things differently. I over-hoarded drafts and asks. Every year this happens, and I just never fucking learn, but I'll try to take my time to sort out everything. This means that I'll be looking through my endless list of drafts and finally replying to them (thank u brain for finally working).

I have a queue prepared to start tomorrow until 17-18th for now. It's 3 posts per day, but I'll keep it to 2 posts per day after 18th of March. I'll be absent today as well, even though I came back but it's like... Update-update. Still not going to reach out regarding plots because I'm still not back with those thoughts and ideas.

If YOU have ideas for plotting, through them at me!

It was SOOOOO NICE to take a break from Tumblr and just? Play games? Read books? Just vibe. Also re-connect with some of Zarina's personality traits that I've let to float around. Now, thanks to PTN, I finally understand how to write some of Zarina's apathetic sides and it made me super happy. I'll also post some of the metas I finally sat down to write. I just might continue this type of existence for the whole month of March due to how much I need to do.

I probably will be giving myself like week-long rests without Tumblr on my phone. I'll probably still take a bit of a long time to rest and not really communicate with anyone yet because I still feel like I need a bit more time there. I'm still playing games but I'm also especially busy this month (graduate school registrations, essays, recommendation letters, applying, all of that jazz). 'Cuz of that I'll probably full-on rely on queue. And yes, I wrote things over my hiatus because I just cannot leave my girl alone lmao. Thank u Google Docs for existing.

Hope y'all are safe. I've got things already queued. Today's gonna be a busy work day, and I've got a call with one of the universities before my application to ask some questions, yahoo! Have a fantastic day. Just know that the activity will only be continued through queue for now. I'll also try to limit my ooc posting because I think the amount that I posted made ME overwhelmed as well since I want to have more IC content to interact with people and not make others feel like I forgot or worse. I really was burnt out and I'm sorry if I hurt anyone, made them feel forgotten, or I made them annoyed with my activity/words/ooc posts.

I still struggle with replying to people socially/ooc-ly even in real life, but I'll try to do better. Over the course of my previous job, I was over-stressed but I also... lost touch with many people. And I didn't chase them because, yes, I didn't keep in touch and it was my fault. However, I will do my best to not let this happen again. I cannot promise anything as I still do not have stability in my life (and didn't have for the last, what, 5 years?) and I cannot make any definity promises. I promise to do better, but that's all I can do. And I will do my fucking best.

Oof, thanks you for reading this! Take care of yourselves. I'm gonna try to concentrate on drafts instead of asks these days because that's how active interactions go and I want to interact. Let's fucking go!!

[crowtheflow]

umm

lets list many of your special talents:

• can play every DOORS ost on halt’s piano (how dare you play it on its instrument)

• starlight stealer

• beaten Rooms… like 3-4 times???

————

for the others which idk but guessing:

• beaten Hotel uhhh probably since day 1

• knows the OG DOORS, been there and done that

• same with the Mines, probably nearly beaten the Mines during those 2 days released

• also Backdoor since the Hunt event

• bet you made Figure stuck so hard in the Library and Electrical room that it ended up seizing and only roaring in fear

• can probably stop and open drawers during Seek’s chases

• definitely go in and out at the end of Seek’s chase door just to troll seek (i enjoy doing that so much)

• knows the entire DOORS lore that LSPLASH should probably hire you

...

STOP WATCHING ME THROUGH MY WALLS.

But legit, it kinda all is true.

I do have a piano and I can play pretty much every doors ost on it, I am a starlight stealer hehehe, I have beaten the rooms 3 times since yesterday was the third time, I played after I found out about doors, not on release date, but I did win my litteral first game I played. Think about that. Rock bottom before one of many. Crazy. I played before the Hotel+ update so I have the old version of the rock bottom badge (fun fact you can actually view someone's badges on their roblox profile and if they got rock bottom before the Hotel+ update and it'll say 'old version'or something like that), I beat the mines in the first few days, Sadly not the first 2 because on day 1 it was too baggy to even get in the game, but definitely first week of it being out (I was at the release of floor 2) Figure has always been cooked by me and I sometimes trap him and glitch him because I can, I search drawers in the seek chase hallway for the extra gold because yes, and I troll seek all the time. The lore goes crazy ngl. I heard it all so much to the point where if a video starts talking about it I skip over it since it's nothing new.

But yeah. You pretty much got everything right about me. Y'know, I don't say I'm the best for no reason. And somehow I still get that one hater anon still with all that skill...

-curious "chug jug" dude, Crow

(I didn't realize how much of an essay I just typed up until now... damn)

Has to edit cuz I realized I missed something. I actually fully completed the Hunt, The Classic, and The Games events completely, so I did beat the backdoors day 1. Wasn't that hard for me yet people said it was super difficult.

[likesrandomstuff]

Avalance Fic Recommendations Part 4

The final part of this series. Thanks to everyone who reblogged and liked, and a huge shout-out to @heywhereisperry who encouraged and motivated me into doing this.

As I said in Part 1, feel free to add any more stories you think should be recognised to any of these posts, and my ask box is open if you would like more detail on anything.

Part 1: Bite Sized

Part 2: Snacks

Part 3: Meals

Banquets (Over 75,000 words)

When you do not have anything you need to do in the next couple of days

You're My Miracle by bihexualmess

My tags: Ava is FBI, Sara is a Private Investigator, Rip brings Sara on for a case

This just got updated the other week and ruined multiple nights of sleep for me. At almost 350k words, still going, I don’t know how to explain without spoiling stuff that happens a long way in. There are so many layers to both Ava and Sara here, and the trauma, and the issues, and the fact they will not talk to each other about anything. I jumped on this a bit late, as the title and description didn’t grab me, but oh boy, I was missing out. I did get to read a heap of it in one go, but that doesn’t help the slow burn. I would start this even though it’s still a WIP, just because it will take you a while, to read, and also the storylines need time to settle in, because they are heavy, but just amazing. It is now the longest Avalance fic with the latest update.

this is the way that we love (like it's forever) by CoffeeAndArrows, moonlitprincess

My tags: College Avalance dated and broke up, five years later they meet again, Ava’s dating someone else

This fic had me crying in the lunchroom during my second week of work because I couldn’t not read during my lunch break, and it was hitting me so hard. That was after starting it at 10pm, reading to 2am, sleeping until 6am, reading until 11am a couple of days before. Warning for major character deaths; the funeral for one is alluded to in the description. If anyone says something bad about Jordan, I will not be happy; one of the best original characters I have ever read in a fic. Sara’s not in a great place initially, but she gets there. And there’s some cute flashbacks to college Legends too.

you make me smile (please stay for a while now) by CoffeeAndArrows, moonlitprincess

My tags: High School Rivals AU, Ava’s class president, Sara is the superstar soccer captain, they have more in common than they thought

I just looked at the word count for this, and it must be the first time I have, because wow! It is a journey! There’s a couple of prequel, sequel and interjection stories in this universe too. Ava has to deal with her family not being super supportive when she comes out. Sara has to deal with Laurel struggling and their mum having a clear favourite (Laurel). Most of the Legends have really great arcs in here as well. Ava’s family is great. I wanna hang out with her little sister. Don’t be like 2018 me who gives up after the first chapter because they are mad about what Laurel is going through. She’s fine, and there’s a heap of great Sara and Laurel moments. I recently re-read the last 10 chapters, and I still couldn’t stop myself from reading like it was the first time.

i am who you used to love (and you are just a memory) by justpalsbeingals

My tags: The Vow AU, but Ava makes some better choices early on, they’re married, Ava gets into an accident and loses all memory of Sara

I hate the movie this fic is based on. The movie’s fine, and it was a delight seeing Tatiana Maslany in it while I was watching Orphan Black, but basically it is my worst-case scenario, losing my memory. The fact that this fic kept me hooked despite that, is a testament to the quality. The fic itself says “light angst”, I say it’s much, much heavier than that, but that’s just me. Warning, there are some intense twists in here, and everyone is a bit OOC to me, memory loss being considered, which might not be your thing.

and i will stumble and fall (i'm still learning to love) by lucylikestowrite

My tags: SwanQueen kid fic AU, yes, I know go with me on this, Ava adopted Sara’s unexpected baby, said kid finds Sara years later

In general, as I’ve mentioned before, I don’t like kid fics. Fics with future children coming back to meet their parents, or the couple going into the future? Some of my favourites ever. This has no time travel, but I trust Lucy. This story is under 75k, but the sequel is almost as long, so combined they’re over. The sequel is a WIP. I didn’t watch Once Upon a Time, but it’s the plot of the start of that, except the gay actually happens. There are a lot of issues our girls have to work through here, but the kid is so cute.

and we could try by plinys

My tags: it’s a story mostly told on twitter through fake screen shots of social media, Sara drunk messages Ava, Ava doesn’t block her

I’m sure this format of storytelling is not for everyone, and that’s okay! I was so confused by it at first. I would recommend starting with the shorter one, I can be your hero (in Part 2), just to see if you like it, before jumping into this. I read this when the epilogue, the fic, was released, and I was up until 5am because I couldn’t stop. It became part of my personality. Story wise, Sara and Ava are on different coasts, but both know Nate, Ray and Nora. Ray and Nora get engaged, and Avalance have to deal with planning that wedding, and whatever is going on with them.

take my hands now by plinys

My tags: Another Social Media twitter AU, Sara is The Canary, Ava is trying to arrest vigilantes, Nate accidently gives Ava Sara’s number

Another brilliant twitter story. Some of our gang is trying to arrest the other half. Sara knows who Ava is, Ava doesn’t know that Sara is the person she’s chasing. Everyone has public twitter accounts. Sara actually gets [spoiler villain] to stop an attack by sending them money for a drink.

your eyes, they shine so bright by plinys

My tags: Social Media AU, everyone works for not Buzzfeed, a colab series is pitched, Sara and Ava’s teams have to work together

Ava makes factual videos, Sara does not, they are forced to work together. Nate is everyone’s boss technically, but they do what they want. Nate and Ava are non-biological siblings, and Satan Camp is a running gag. Oh, fake dating is in there too!

right to the top, don't hold back by SJAandDWfan

My tags: American Ninja Warrior AU, Sara’s a veteran and the Legends train together, Ava’s a rookie, rivals to training partners to friends to …

I re-read this every year when the new Australian season comes out. It’s so burned into my brain that when I was watching the speed climbing at the Olympics I genuinely thought “I wonder how Amaya would go in this?”. Amaya’s pre-Ninja experience is rock climbing in this fic. I learnt so much about Ninja Warrior and how the show (at least in this universe) works, and it’s fascinating. Would recommend watching some clips if you’re unfamiliar with the concept. The story goes pretty in detail about the courses. For recommendations, either Jessie Gaff, who was a S1 Supergirl stuntwoman, or Australia’s own Olivia Vivian, who is just stages better than our next female.

biding our time (until tomorrow) by TheTruthAboutLove

My tags: Period setting AU, Ava’s too noble for her own good, Oliver’s dad is the villain

This was a really cool experiment. Basically, told in lots of mini chapters like a soap opera. I do not know much about this period of American history, but it did not matter. A lot of different Arrow-verse peeps show up along the way. I’m sure I complained out loud “you’re allowed to want things Ava!” at some point. There’s an attempt for fake dating, and it’s not the homophobia but the second daughter problem that gets them.

Click here to see all the parts

[walviemort]

Fairy Godfather, part 3

Summary: The fairies have asked a monumental favor of Killian: be the surrogate for their babies—all nine of them. He’s been pregnant before, but this? This is a whole other level. What has he gotten himself into? And just how big will he get?

A/N: Another update! Thank you to @sancocnutclub​ for her continued encouragement...which will be very apparent in part 4 ;)

rated T / 2.4k words / part 1 / part 2 / AO3

Though he had just passed the first trimester mark in this oversized pregnancy, Killian was pleased to find he was not lacking in the energy department. Granted, his first pregnancy had been similar—he’d had the most energy during the second trimester, despite the increasing size of his belly.

But his belly was a fraction of the size back then. Now, at 13 weeks, it was much closer to the size he’d been at 35 weeks with Hope. But he had yet to slow down—as evidenced by his and Emma’s morning activities; he was even on top.

There was no denying his present form was bulky, but he’d been too fatigued at this size with Hope to do much but sleep and eat. That was not a problem now, and both he and Emma were reaping the benefits. Reaching orgasm while she was caressing his bump? It was impossible to describe how amazing that felt.

However, he’d hardly finished when Hope began to cry out from her nursery. As much as he was still feeling good, moving did take a bit more effort than it had. This bump also weighed as much as his last one, and was only going to get heavier; at least it hadn’t dropped yet. But it meant that Emma was still quicker to her feet than he was, and sprang up to retrieve their 13 month old before she tried to climb out of her crib on her own.

Hope finally figured out walking a month or so ago—just in time for her first birthday—and he was well aware of the comical sight he’d made at her party, chasing after her with his protruding stomach. But at least he still could, even if he got winded more quickly than he’d like. 

Tink had been snickering at him during one such moment. “Hey,” he chastised and patted the bump. “Your kid is in here, so I’d watch the mocking when it comes to running after mine.”

“That’s fair,” she’d conceded. “Just let me know when you need help, though—I’ll gladly go after the little hellion.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

They hadn’t needed her help yet, but it was only a matter of time—especially by the sound of tiny but insistent footsteps that were getting faster every day as they ran down the hallway. 

“Dada!” her little voice called out as she charged into the room and threw herself against his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“How’s my little cygnet today?” he enthusiastically replied as he bent down to pick her up. He had to open his legs to make room for the bump, but it was still an achievable feat, and Hope giggled as she flew into the air and the curled in as he carefully tucked her into his side. 

After a brief cuddle, she squirmed for him to set her down on the mattress, and gave his bump a gentle pat. “Hi babies,” she said (or tried to; some of those sounds were still being worked on). She’d noticed the bump a few weeks ago, once it had really started popping out. They couldn’t tell if she actually understood what was going on—and were glad she was young enough to not have to explain it—but she was at least careful and affectionate. 

He just hoped that continued as she grew steadier on her feet—and he grew larger and less so. 

Hope tucked herself back into Killian’s side and Emma sat down on the other. “This is a pretty perfect morning,” she sighed as she laid her head in his bare shoulder. “Do I really have to go into work?”

“I’m of the same opinion—but wasn’t Tiger Lily coming for training today?” She was the fairy who’d offered to take over his deputy duties once he no longer could—and he had a hunch she'd be an acceptable long-term hire. 

“Yeah,” she complained. “Just wish it could wait another day.”

“Or,” he suggested, “we get through today and then we can spend tomorrow in a similar manner.”

“I like the way you think,” she replied, then pulled him in for a kiss. 

He set Hope down on the bed, where she proceeded to tackle the pillows, and went about the process of getting dressed. His sleep pants still fit, although they were reaching the point where they were almost too snug on his hips, which had definitely widened more than last time. 

Thankfully, his maternity jeans were as stretchy as ever, and he hadn’t yet exceeded their capacity; the elastic panel hugged his belly comfortably as he slipped them on. 

Emma had bought him a collection of soft, short-sleeved t-shirts a size larger than he typically wore, and one of those slipped on easily, but the bump still stood prominently under navy cotton. Hopefully, they made these in several larger sizes. 

They stopped at Granny’s before heading to their respective workplaces for the day, and Killian consumed a larger stack of pancakes than he’d like to admit; good thing Belle took his measurements yesterday. At least there was also a generous side of fresh fruit. 

When he and Hope arrived at the library, he was only semi-surprised to see Blue there; she seemed to be showing up once a month or so to check in, but today had another goal. 

“Would you be okay with getting an ultrasound?” she asked. 

That was shocking. “Sure,” he said, “but will it be okay for them?” he countered, rubbing his belly. Inside, they seemed to be fluttering nervously. 

“If it’s fine for a human baby, it should be for them. It’s just—I see all these thorough notes and comparisons, and I’m curious what that would reveal.”

“Whale says he has an opening,” Belle added, phone in hand. “Shall we?”

They did, and headed out en masse to make the short walk to the hospital. At least, it should have been short, but Hope insisted on walking on her own and Killian’s pace wasn’t as fast as it normally was. 

Whale met them in the waiting room when they arrived, though, an eager look on his face. “Wondered if I'd see you this time around,” he greeted. “I’ve gotta say—I’m pretty curious about this.”

“Aren’t we all,” Killian answered dryly, bracing his hook against his lower back. 

“Come on; let’s take a peek in there,” Whale beckoned, and led them to an exam room. 

Killian passed Hope off to Blue and began the process of climbing up on the exam table; again—he was doing fine on the energy front, but a large bump was a large bump, and it not only was an obstacle to his mobility, but he was carrying around some weight he hadn’t been 13 weeks ago (and in more places than just the bump).

But he managed to get up there and lifted up his shirt without prompting; he knew the drill. During his seemingly arduous climb, Whale had been looking over Belle’s notes from both pregnancies. “Damn,” he commented. “I think your notes are more detailed than my charts.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Killian called out; Whale just chuckled and moved to ready the ultrasound machine while Belle rolled her eyes and readied her pen. 

Killian had forgotten how cold the gel was, but he got over it quickly as Whale began to move the probe over his (thankfully stretch mark-free) stomach. 

“Well I’ve never seen that before,” Whale said after a bit, and everyone focused on the screen. 

“I thought those were only in black and white?” Belle asked. 

“They are,” Whale confirmed. 

And yet, as the tiny images of multiple babies appeared on the screen, each one was showing up in a different color—the color of the orbs they started as. Tink’s green stood out front and center, but as Whale moved the probe over the dome that was Killian’s abdomen, all the other colors showed up, except—

“Where’s mine?” Blue asked, understandably worried. 

“Hmm,” Whale hummed, investigating. “One, two,” he started counting, finding 8 that were easily visible. “But it looks like…” He pressed harder on Killian’s belly, to the point of discomfort, but he didn’t complain—not when Blue looked so worried. 

“Yeah, there’s definitely one hiding in there,” Whale said. “I just can’t zero in. There’s some color bleeding through, though…”

And in between a pink-hued and navy-hued fetus, a bit of bright blue was visible. Blue sighed in relief. “Yeah, she’s just being stubborn,” Whale assured her. “You can probably blame it on Hook.”

“Hey!” he protested, but Belle’s snicker suggested she agreed.

“Anyways—from a development standpoint, yeah, I’d put you right at 13 weeks, although probably half the size. Were it a normal pregnancy, I’d guess you’d only go to 30 weeks or so, for safety—but I’m guessing that won’t be the case here?”

“No,” Blue said. “He’ll go all the way to full term.”

Whale whistled. “Thank goodness they’re small then.”

Several copies of the sonogram were printed off—as mysteriously colorful as they were on screen—with Killian taking one, another going in Belle’s notebook, and the rest going with Blue. There was some discussion of doing another ultrasound at the second trimester, but it was ultimately deemed unnecessary.

Whale bid them adieu but they lingered in the room, if only because it took Killian a bit to clean off the gel (he hated the way it got caught in the bit of hair on his stomach). Belle was wrangling the kids, but Blue was staring at the pictures, almost in awe. 

“You were worried, weren’t you?” Killian asked softly. “That she wasn’t there.”

“Yes,” Blue admitted. “It’s rare, but sometimes, they don’t all take. And I’ve just—I’ve waited so long for this.”

“I understand.” It had taken him and Emma quite some time to conceive Hope, and obviously they required assistance. 

“I guess I’ll just have to be patient,” she sighed. 

“Aye,” he agreed. “But—” He placed his hand on the top of his bump and furrowed his brow in concentration. “I’m almost positive she’s kicking my bladder at the moment.”

It drew the polite chuckle he was going for, but also meant he needed to excuse himself. Blue also took that moment to take her leave, but not without an emphatic thank-you.

He had to admit, as he shuffled off to the bathroom—he’d definitely been resentful of this arrangement to an extent. But seeing Blue’s genuine emotions there at the prospect of parenthood made that feeling dissipate. 

He was sure he’d have a mountain of complaints by the end of this, but being able to grant so many others the joys he’d found as a parent—that would be worth it. 

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

At 16 weeks, he hit the same measurements he had when he was at full term with Hope (literally those of the day before he’d gone into labor). But the bump still sat high on his frame. “I wonder if whatever magic is preventing stretch marks is also holding it aloft,” he quipped as he traced the curve of his belly. 

“It’s entirely possible,” Belle concurred. “Look at the difference.” In addition to measured data, she also had photographic documentation of his various milestones in both pregnancies; comparing the picture she’d just taken on her phone to the one from right before Hope entered the world, it was plain to see the similarities in how much they extended in front of him, but the difference in where it sat on his body. 

“We’ll see how long it lasts, though.”

In answer to his theory, he got another few weeks before things began to sit lower, though his stomach continued it’s outward expansion—a couple centimeters every week. But by his 17th week, he finally started feeling the pull of gravity and had to dig out the belly band he’d relied on the last month or so with Hope. 

But he soon noticed another issue. While he remembered what it was like to not be able to see his feet, and had gotten used to the obstacle about his midsection, he wasn’t prepared for it to stick out even more. 

Case in point: one morning during his 18th week, when he was attempting to surprise Emma with breakfast (usually she rose first, but a flurry of activity in his belly had woken him early). However, he was a bit farther from the stove than he was used to, as well as the cabinets, and he kept knocking into the chairs around the table; Hope was watching him from her own high chair in amusement, far more interested in his slapstick endeavor than her cereal. 

“What’s going on?” Emma’s sleepy voice asked after he cursed at nearly burning his belly on the oven. 

“Nothing,” he huffed, rubbing the spot on his bump that was just a bit too warm. “Just a failed attempt at treating my amazing wife.”

She glanced around, then smiled. “You were trying to make me breakfast but then your belly got in the way?”

“Aye,” he sighed. 

She walked over to him and pulled him into a hug—from the side, since she already couldn’t get close enough from the front—and turned his face towards her to kiss him. “You’re too sweet,” she said, tucking herself into his side. “And you treated me plenty last night,” she added in a low voice; he swallowed at the memory of their shared moment—probably one of the last times he’d be able to make love on top for a while, unless they got creative with the logistics, but dammit, he did it, and it was amazing. 

“I can finish this up; take a seat, okay?”

“I should be able to do this, though,” he complained. 

“And you will—in 5 months or so. But I told you I’d support you with this, so let me.”

He sighed again, but complied, and ignored the creak of his chair as he sat down (angled away from the table—he was also up a size in shirts, but his jeans were holding on…for now). “How did the gods see fit to bless this poor bastard with such an amazing woman?” he asked, watching the blush rise on her cheeks. 

“The same way they did for this lost girl,” she countered, then put a (heaping) plate in front of him. 

“I love you so much, Swan—thank you.”

She placed another kiss on his lips. “I love you too—always.”

Even if this wasn’t an ideal situation, he knew that he was blessed to have Emma at his side; he wouldn’t be able to get through this without her. 

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

thanks for reading! tagging @wyntereyez​ @jennjenn615​ @superadam54​ @ashley-knightingale​ @justsomewhump​ @teamhook​ @88infinity88​​ (let me know if you want a tag!)

[jinpanman]

mai out here living her main character life 😌 we love to see it 😌

i am living vicariously through you and it’s bringing me so much joy to see your little updates every now and then

Ommgggg thanks;w; the mc life is so stressful tho omfg i am not built for this

should i tell you some cute things about vegan boy?<3

He let me take control of the music in the car 😍

He says "stooop" in this super cute whiny voice when i tease him about something

He walked around all new years eve day with me with a bloody ankle and never complained once (i didn't even know until the day after!😭 i felt so bad)

We shared all the food and all the drinks. Don't mind me as i go a lil delulu over all the indirect kisses hahaha (I FORGOT TO ADD BUT HIS BOTTOM LIP CAUGHT AGAINST MY FINGER WHEN HE WENT IN TO EAT THE BURGER I WAS HOLDING UP FOR HIM JSHDJSJDKS I ALMOST DIED)

He loves chocolate and hates seafood (didn't like it even before he became vegan) -- i chose the right man lol

HE LIKES TO DRIVE. Oh god. You have no idea how happy i am about this lol when i tell you liking to drive & not liking seafood are two of the top criteria for the man i end to marrying..... i got my eyes on him!!!🤣

He's super considerate of my fruit allergy 🥺 (which isn't even a big deal for me i just suffer through it bc people like fruit. HE SAID "I CAN LIVE WITHOUT FRUIT" UNPROMPTED (i'm sorry bby but i can't give up meat for u)

He thinks koi fish are cute (I do not)

He sucks at taking pictures lol

He joked about us & some friends going to hawaii for 2 weeks. I told him everyone's gonna leave him after week 1 and he said "You're staying with me!" (and then amended himself by adding on [friend here lol] 🤣)

He also sucks at singing but it's really cute when he sings lol

He sang me 2 seconds of this one hmong love song that translates to "pretty girl you're the one i like the most" AAAHHHHH

He's really easy to talk to. Like it's just so easy

He bought me this penguin pen case he saw me eyeing in a stationary shop 🥺🥺🥺

He let me shop in that store for however long i wanted to 🥺 and didn't mind waiting in line with me

He texts me about things we talked about. Like this hotel i told him i would not be able to afford bc it looked expensive. He actually looked it up a few days later and told me i was right (😍 love a man who knows when a woman is right)

He offered to take me to a shop across the street just for the bathroom bc the one in the restaurant we were eating in was really gross

He stole his cousin's clothes (bc his house was too far away) to come eat lunch with my family

Literally everyone i know loves him

He does this thing where he sniffs a lot

He's tall

He always offers to take me home after a hangout even though 1) my cousin's always around to take me home and 2)he lives on the complete opposite side of town where i was staying

Vegan pizza

He made sure to get me boba during our nye trip (i forgot all about it lol but he didn't 🥺)

He is so innocently optimistic about things that I'm so drained from. It's kind of refreshing

He gels his hair and it looks so good

He has a nice happy trail

He fed me a lot 🥺

He sat next to me at church 🥺🥺 apparently when i moved from my spot to talk with family and he didn't see me he sat somewhere else but when i moved back to my original spot so did he

(Story time: before service, some old lady behind us "whisper" asked a friend if we just got married lloooolllll and our friends being her usual self, she was all "oh nooo they just started talking! They're not married yet."💀💀 there is no way he didn't hear that either omfg and yes we both pretended we didn't hear that lol)

He also fed my family 🥺 like wtf 🥺 heart eyes 🥺

He's really cute

HE LIKES KPOP

HE DOESN'T JUDGE ME FOR KPOP bc he is also in this blackhole with me!!!!

Tbh I'm not used to having a guy "chase after" me. Bc I'm usually the one who initiates things. So him going for all these things (INCLUDING THE BTS CLUBBING EVENT OMG) to be with me makes me not know what to do with myself lololol

Ok. I should stop now lol this got really long oops

[luminous-studiess]

I’m considering going into law as a career path but I’m not sure...do you have any insight or advice?

hi!!!!!  uh ok several thoughts coming from someone who struggled with “is this really what i want” before going into law school/the first three semesters. under the cut because this is LONG.

1. the first question you may want to ask yourself is whether or not you have enough interest (note: not passion.... more on that later) in law as a subject to study it for 3-4 years. are you updated on current events, both in your country, and abroad? do you have an idea of what law school in your country is like? why do you want to go into law? admittedly these are questions you yourself have to answer, to see if it really is worth it. the why is very important, because this may be the only thing that sustains you when you’re wading through coursework and dealing with scary professors and getting cold-called. if you think that it’s something you’d be interested enough in to put in admittedly a lot of time, emotion, and suffering into, then that’s great!! ok. this may tie into the next thing you have to ask yourself: 2. do you have an interest in/or are willing to learn the skills which are required in law school and beyond?  law students are required to read huge piles of text, be able to digest it, retain it, and then regurgitate it both in class discussions and in exams. this means that you need to at least be a diligent, patient reader, an efficient and clear writer, and a strong speaker.  in your later years, you will have to draft pleadings and memoranda. this requires extremely sharp writing skills, logic, research abilities, and (weirdly enough), organizational skills. you need the patience to make an argument for a client, usually crafted out of documents and legal provisions and mountains of cases.  you don’t have to be all these things right away-- my classmates and i, in our first semesters, had no idea what was going on, and nobody knew how to speak up when called without panicking or stammering or (in my case) nearly crying. but you learn those things in time. are you willing to put in the effort? then you can do it, absolutely. 3. are you ready for the lifestyle law school requires?  i’ll say this right away. it can be one of the most unhealthy environments you’ve ever been in. i’ve mentioned the heavy coursework-- it depends again on where you’re studying, but the course load can usually vary from 10-20 cases (say... 5 to 100 pages at most per case?) per class, plus a handful of laws and articles. you have to have read these -- skimmed, briefed, digested, taken notes -- and then be ready for class discussions, where you could get cold-called.  this entails pretty much an entire life which revolves around studying. it does get easier, and it does get lighter (in the sense that life does come back), but the first semester or so of law school will be completely about trying to chase every deadline, every requirement, and yes, every bit of sleep you can catch. the actual environment can be difficult as well-- in some law schools, the learning atmosphere can be tense, to say the least: the professors can be quite strict, if not downright harsh, and you can spend entire class sessions getting grilled through the socratic method, aka an endless barrage of questions you may not know the answer too. the culture shock coming in is pretty hard as well. suddenly, you’re grouped with so many brilliant, hard-working, eloquent people that it becomes easy to doubt yourself. from experience, law school took such a toll on my physical and mental health (poor sleep, poor eating habits, bad class performance and being afraid of the professors) that i was very close to quitting. however....... IT GETS BETTER. okay, hopefully, i haven’t scared you away. now make these considerations: 4. if you have a strong reason for wanting to go to law school, and getting through it, then even the hard parts become worthwhile. initially i wanted to go to law school because i was mildly intrigued by how i could use the speaking and writing skills i got from my college degree. after becoming quickly disillusioned by my first few weeks, i had to rethink why i would want to stay. one reason, admittedly, is that the promise of a well-paying job can keep you working through everything despite all the pain, suffering, and embarrasment. that sounds really covetous ngl but...... i once mentioned on this blog that i wanted to work in something i wasn’t extremely, wildly passionate about, so that i would have the money and security to fund my real passions. living, and living well is so expensive. not all of us can work in things we absolutely, completely love, so if there’s an opportunity to sustain yourself well, so that you can keep doing the things you like in the side, then it is an opportunity worth pursuing. another reason, at least for me, is that while one aspect of law and lawyering that most ppl see is the “jeff winger” “harvey specter” sleazy lawyer aspect, admittedly, a lot of the law is embedded in the things we do, and the rights we possess. if two people are fighting over a piece of land, they turn to the law to resolve it. if someone is being arrested without cause, then it’s the law that’s being disregarded. you do have the potential to help many people, just by your knowledge of basic civil rights, to some labor laws, to property rights. you don’t necessarily have to work pro bono all the time, but you can accrue enough knowledge to help individuals who don’t know the law as well, and as deeply as you could. and that in itself can keep you going-- you know that you could keep someone out of jail, or help them claim support, or protest unfair labor practices.  5. the journey can be more beautiful than you expect. ok this sounds like live, laugh, love bullcrap but to illustrate: i was completely afraid and lost during my first year of law school, but i had the total luck of becoming blockmates with smart, funny, kind people who became my family in law school. we studied together, went drinking at the end of the sem, had lunch and dinner and breakfast while reading and talking and fighting and teaching each other things. i know for a fact that some of these people will be my bridesmaids, and people i’ll contact for work, and to hang out with 10 years in the future. these people keep you going. as much as i mentioned terror professors, there are also the ones who taught so well, and gave me so much inspiration through the sheer passion they had for the law. there are professors who spend the entire day talking one-on-one to the students to check on how they are. i broke down in front of two professors after class in my first year-- the first one awkwardly comforted me, and the second pulled me into the faculty reading room to have a good, private cry. she handed me a tissue afterwards. you have the opportunity to learn from both brilliant and kind professors and fellow law students, and suddenly, things become a little easier. cases actually make sense. you know how to study for exams and how to speak up in class. you finally get 8 hours of sleep (i do tbh). you find a little to like about learning each and every day. so, in short-- law school is brutal, and it can be unmerciful. but you don’t need to be smart to get through: just be a little interested, very hard-working, and have a lot of grit. please let me know how you’re doing, friend! good luck.

[popculturebuffet]

Pinky and the Brain: A Pinky And the Brain Christmas Review or I Just Think Schotzie’s Neat

Christmas Continues on this blog... and getting away from one set of Christmas commissions and into another, I offered my friend Blahdiddy three commissions as a present. The other two we’ll get to eventually, but with Animaniacs on the brain, heh, due to the reboot, he selected two Pinky and the Brains and one Animaniacs for me to cover. And while I intended to cover this one sometime this month anyway, my friend’s recent and sad covid diagnosis meant i’m bumping this one all the way up to the front of the line so he has some christmas cheer during this rough time. So with that in mind let’s talk about pinky, pinky and the brain brain brain brain brain shall we? Of course we can’t really talk about pinky and the brain without talking about Animaniacs. I absolutely love the series, I grew up with it as a kid and reconnected with it as an adult when it ended up on netflix. It was smart, well animated and most importantly really fucking funny. I highly recommend checking both the original and reboot of it out some time if you have Hulu. Speaking of the reboot while I might go on in full about it at some point it’s pretty good, with some creatvie jokes, some nice updates, with Rita Anita Anrita being a great new addition to the warner side of things. It’s only real flaw is it gets a bit reptitious as for the most part there’s only really the warners and pinky and the brain with a few exceptions one of which DAMN well deserved at least two segments and we all know which one that is. 

Bring.. this.. to series. The warners and pinky and the brain segments weren’t bad, but as is inevitible in a screwball comedy some just weren’t as good as others and those fell harder when you’ve already seen 2 or 3 better versions of this sort of skit in the season. They did really find their groove towards the end and if you like both Animaniacs and Pinky and the Brain, or even just one or the other, it’s worth checking out.  But enough about the reboot let’s talk about those labratory mice whose genes have been spliced. Thanks to wikipedia, I now know the duo were based on Eddie Fitzgerald and Tom Minton, who worked with Tom Rutgeter on Tiny Toon adventures, with menton being the one who came up with Narf, even saying it in one episode of Tiny Tunes. During the creation of animaniacs, Bruce Timm, yes THE Bruce Timm, sketched the two, and Ruetger added mouse ears and the rest was history. Maurice LaMarche was the one who added the Orson Welles to the character, as LaMarche saw the Orson Welles in Brain, ran with it and got the part and a long and storied career in voice acting as a result. In a nice and fitting bit of contrast, Rob Paulsen got the part.. because he was already on the show. Not to downplay Paulsen’s clear talent, I just find it hilarious. 

That’s about what I could dig up on the behind the scenes of the show. From what I can tell it was greenlit because Animaniacs was a massive it, and Pinky and the Brain was the most popular segment, so it just made sense. The show would likewise be a massive sucess with both adults and kids, and go on for three seasons and what should legally be considered a war crime. 

For those of you blissfully unaware yeah, that happened, no no one people actually LIKED from Tiny Toons was in it. And yeah if you want me to talk about it commission it otherwise not going near this one. While I do need to tackle more bad animation... I’ve successfully avoided watching an episode of this show for 22 years next wedsday, I’m not breaking the streak for free. 

But some.. things aside I remembered liking the series as a kid but just never got around to seeking it out as an adult. I had nothing against the animaniacs segments and I even still have a stuffed brain doll I got at a garage sale.. the pinky is sadly missing and persumed dead. I just wasn’t as bit into it as I was the slappy bits rewatching animaniacs and didin’t really see reason to watch the show. Watching this though made me realize I was wrong and I probably watch more of it in the future This special is damn good, i’m pleased ot review it and to revive and old childhood memory. So with all the exposition out of the way let’s talk Pinky, PInky and the brain brain brain brain christmas edition after the cut. 

This was indeed a special: while it was presumably produced with season one of the show and is packaged with it both on DVD and on Hulu, where I watched it, the special was aired in prime time and even put on it’s own VHS.. which I found out and of course, like with my review of the Darkwing Duck Pilot, had to use as the art for old VHS’ tapes for cartoons.. was really fucking beautiful and it’s a nice break from my traditional screencaps.   So we open with a clever Christmas rendition of the theme, frequently sprinkling in bits of other christmas stuff, utterly fantastic. The intro animation is less impressive as it’s literally just the regular intro but with a stock snow effect over everything. In case you thought Ducktales doing that was a new thing. I do not blame the team however, as apparently they only had a week to get the scripts out, so I highly doubt warner was forking out more cash for the animation than they had to. They still forked out enough to make it LOOK really good mind you, something I wish they’d do more often with their DTV Movies but do do with their animated shows still with certain exceptions so good on them, i’m just saying they clearly cared more about money than having a memorable christmas opening. Given a budget to actually make one, i’m sure the animators would’ve come up with something lovely, and i’m sure the same is true of Ducktales and other shows and like i’ve said, i’m highly in favor of shows actuallly doing unique openings for the holidays, especially since Holiday episodes tend to get reaired every year as long as the show is in circulation on the network. Sometimes even if it isn’t. So it’s fully worth the effort to fork out a little extra for this as while you’ll most likely only use it once, you’ll be using the special for years. You can afford to treat yourself networks come on. It’s...

Just like Pinky, Elmyra and the Brain. But onto the episode itself after 80 years. We find Pinky writing his Christmas list to santa, complete with Narf, a gag I like. As usual for a comedy show, I will try to gloss over as much of the gags as possible, to avoid repetttion but yeah this episode is really damn funny and reminded me just how good these characters are. Maurice and Rob just have perfect chemistry. It’s like Tom and Jerry: It’s a very simple premise, that one being “Cat chases mouse and Mouse beats shit out of mouse”, and pinky and the brain of course being “Super genuis mouse and dimwitted but loveable sidekick try and takeover the world eveyr night”. But a simple premise can be used just about anywhere and adapated for anything. To me a cartoon’s premise only has to be as complicated as it needs to be to work. Sometimes you have a vast complex tapestry behind the world like She Ra, Steven Universe or Avatar with lots of planning and ins and outs and deep character stuff.. and sometimes you just have two mice who get into shenanigans because one is a would be dictator who sounds like orson welles and the other’s a loveable british weirdo/moron. Sometimes simple just works. 

Anyways, Brain, noticing Pinky’s distracted and replaces himself with a horrifying poorly made doll of himself called Noodle Noggin, which is both an excellent name and not the only time they’d use the name either, as there was an animaniacs short about Brain making himself a fad to endear himself to the children of the future with the same name. It’s just an inherently funny set of words, but also shows Brain’s genius in a subtle and clever way as he never spells it out, but despite sounding kind of ridiculous for such a buttoned up intellectual like brain... he knows that’s the kind of name kids will eat up. His schemes may often fail, but he’s an objectively brilliant schemer and i’ts often either PInky’s incompetence or his own miscalculation of humanity, either over or underestimating them, that undoes Brain.  Back to the plot, so Brain’s plan is to distribute noodle noggins around the world, make it the hot new toy, and as always, take over the world. Problem is naturally two Mice simply don’t have the resources to make the billions of dolls. But PInky stumbles upon the solution in the paper: a want ad for elves! Everything about that sentence except “pinky stumbles upon the solution” has not aged paticuarlly well, but point is they have a plan and we have our christmas special.  This does bring me to my one problem with the special.. Brain’s weird inconsistency towards Santa. What I mean is he spends the portion doubting Santa can do anything he’s claimed to despite being proven frequently he can. That part is not all that annoying as it’s in character with him and while yes, he is a talking mouse, he’s also a man of science and reason and Santa is the opposite of that. That would be fine... IF it wasn’t for the fact that said magical bollocks weren’t constantly part of his plans. Despite Brain constantly throughought the special doubting Santa... his plans FREQUENTLY rely on everything we’ve heard about him being right. His initial plan here ENTIRELY runs on the fact Santa has a massive workforce to make the toys yet even if that’s true by Brain’s own logic, he wouldn’t be able to deliver them. Later when the boys need to escape, They hide with the Reindeer despite Brain just saying santa can’t be everywhere in one night.. which if he can’t then the odds are slim he’ll wind up at Acme Labs isn’t it? It would be fine if the special acknowledged any of this outside of one bit we’ll get to, but other than that one bit.. they don’t. IT’s just really frustrating and really sticks out since the rest of the special is perfection, so this one failing bit really grates. That being said, it dosen’t last long enough to really drag the episode down as a whole, just to annoy me a bit every so often. It speaks to the episodes quality that the bad part ONLY drags so much because everything else is so well put together.  So our boys head to the north pole with the help of a kooky pilot and a santa dummy, this pilot is voiced by Tress MacNeile and is easily one of the best parts of the special. And naturally given their luck, she asks them to take the wheel so the plane instead jerks and causes them to fall out. Luckily they end up near Santa’s workshop and soon apply for temp work with local head of things and gruff type Shotzie, played by Jeff Bennett. And yes that is his name.  I like Shotzie: he’s a goateed elf and Bennett just plays him well.. hard to explain honestly I may just like his name and Bennett’s voice for him, one he used before in animanaics for various bit parts and in shows after this, it’s just a voice i’ve always liked. 

They get put to work in the mail room, which is the bit I mentioned: Brain earlier scoffed at Santa answering all the letters with Pinky simply suggesting that Santa had his elves go through all of them. Turns out Pinky was right... while he may be a BIT stupid, one intresting thing i’ve found about Pinky after watching the reboot that ironically the friend who comissioned this and I discussed is that he’s not ENTIRELY stupid, it’s just , much like Dan from Dan Vs his knowledge is just random.. he can not know how a lot of things work, but sometimes like in this instance Pinky generally just GETS something. It’s part of why he and Brain are such a good team despite their failures: Brain is all about planning and thought and research, Pinky is about intuition and gut instinct. He just does things and it often works out. This also makes their recently added backstories all the more brilliant as they explain this well: Pinky started life just being told to find the diffrence in cheeses and thus was taught form childhood to trust in himself and his weird brain. Brain was cruelly torturued with an experiment on learned behaviors via electroshock, and was taught to never give up control again, to always know what’s going on and to always control it. It perfectly sums up who the two are and why they are that way.  Brain however quickly pivots, as the mail room ends up being the perfect location to start his plans. Since their job is to file away what each person wants Brain simply adds Noodle Noggin to it and plans to put his plans into the workshop. While Santa and Schotzie are suprised and baffled, Santa quickly adds it to the list. However things hit a snag when Schotzie gets supscious when the two try to sneak into the blueprint room to drop theirs off and he accidently yanks off their disguises leading to a REALLY fun chase scene, as the boys end up in a toy wherehouse and thus try out various toy cars: a barbie dream car that dosen’t have a working motor, a toy truck that dosen’t go very fast, and finally an rc car that while fast naturally just means Schotzie can grab it and capture them. It’s easily my faviorite scene of the episode just for how clever it is and as someone whow as a kid around the time this came out, I applaud the accuracy.. granted I didn’t have any of those personally but I had lots of friends so yeah. 

So our heroes are interrogated.. and again Brain brilliantly pivots. Schotzie assumes since they have the blueprints their spies for the easter bunny or the tooth fairy or Herschel, the Hanukah Goblin. Why Herschel never got his own Hannukah special trying to stop Pinky and the Brain from using it to take over the world, I genuinely do not know and that’s something the reboot really needs to adress in the future. Seriously Hannukah needs a mascot and it’s either Herschel or the Hannukah Zombie. Kwanza already has Kwanzabot. I want to see more of Herschel the Hannukah Goblin dammit!. I love goblins. Especially this one.

And this one

And most of all this one

I likes goblins. It’s a thing. So anyway, point is Schotize has the blueprints taken in while our boys slip out and sucessfully make their way outside, though they have to find a way home to turn on the mind control device. They see Santa and brain being a dick refuses to let pinky hand in his letter.. but does as mentioned earlier have them pose as reindeer.  So our heroes make their way home and in time to be able to activate the device once santa’s route’s finished!

And.. then land directly on the mind control device thing, meaning they now have to scramble to repair it. Oh and Pinky is inconsolable after realizing Santa didn’t get his letter and Brain is a HUGE dick about it. Easily the worst i’ve seen him just far more focused on his machine than his friend’s wel lbeing especially since ALL he needs from pinky is for him to throw one lousy switch. 

But we then get easily the best part of the entire special. As Brain scrambles to rebuild his device while abusing his best friend we get a really nice tense sequence as Brain rebuilds while kids all over the world warmly receive noodle noggin. I mean.. it’s not the creepiest doll I’ve seen a kid enjoy. 

Also Bill Clinton gets one because the series apparently really likes “Bill Clinton is stupid jokes” Oh you poor innocent dears who haven’t had to suffer through the president being revealed to be a sexual predator, the one after him being even dumber if not a predator, the one after that being easily one of the best people around, and the outgoing one being a waking nightmare whose both a preadator and dumb beyond all comprehension ina dangerous and soul crushing way. 

But yeah onto the good part, Brain, for whatever reason, reads the letter.. and finds Pinky asked for nothing. He just wanted to give Brain the world at long last, recognizing his friend really and genuinely means well for it and that he’s worked hard to conquer it. And with that goal in reach, with the very thing he’s always wanted his... Brain instead uses the device to wish a merry christmas. He sees through his friend’s kindess and selflessness that he himself.. has been selfish once again turning something into a world destroying plot and being cruel to his best friend... when all his best friend wanted was to selflessly make sure he finally got what he wanted. It’s then that Brain, for all his cold and cynical logic and superiority complex, realized the true meaning of christmas, which i’ve said before and i’ll say again: it’s about giving, about giving someone something with your heart and soul just to be nice with no expectation of something in return. It’s about being selfless for once instead of selfish. I’ts about love. And Brain loves his friend too much to destroy his faviorite holiday. For once the world can wait.. and for once they all join in saying merry christmas to one another and in love and camradire. And I know not everyone celebrates christmas, there are other winter holidays and not everyone in the world would willingly do this. I know all that.. but the special has such a well meaning message, I really can’t be mad at that or get into the weeds too much> This isn’t some jackass making an entire movie, of which there have been several, saying “There’s a war on christmas” which instead equates to them just bitching about not everyone celebrating HIS holiday. It’s about a mouse for one moment truly being selfless and putting ihs loyal and faithful friend over his greatest want to give him a nice christmas and to do something nice for the world instead of trying to take it. And that.. that’s really damn heartmelting.  So we end on the two exchanging presents, with it being a little extra heartwarming as Brain likely already got Pinky something meaning even before his big revelation, he really does care beneath all the dope slaps. Pinky got him a keychain of the world and rather than be frustrated like you’d think.. Brain just takes it in stride. It is christmas after all.. the world.. it can wait. For now it’s just the two of them having one moment in time, this merry christmas.  Final Thoughts: If it wasn’t obvious, I loved this freaking special. It’s funny, clever and has one hell of an ending. There isn’t much more to say other than go watch it if you have Hulu.. you will not regret it and a sepcial thanks to Blah for comissioning this. it was an amazing time and is now a competitor for a spot on my best christmas special list. For now though it’s just really good and I say go check it out. Merry christmas, happy holidays and later days. 

[k-s-morgan]

I'm a Reddit lurker, no account, and since the Netflix update am posts daily here and in reddit. A recent post on S3 caught my attention. Don't you feel that in S3 Hannibal's struggle at 'moving on' in Italy was far more intense that Will's? I agree with that poster that Will looked ok - readily gets married.. wife, kid. There were subtle things, true not touching, weak communication but he could have carried on fine. I didn't see him suffering the way Hannibal was. And felt angry at him.

Hello! Oh, I definitely agree that Will is frustrating to the point of being maddening. I think it goes back to his versus Hannibal's ways of expressing emotions. Will's been spending the majority of his life in denial in several respects at once, and his feelings for Hannibal is something he struggles with displaying. However, I think we still see enough of his struggles, and I don't believe he would ever succeed in carrying on without Hannibal indefinitely.

Will's journey is divided into 2 parts in S3: post-Mizumono and post-Digestivo.

Post-Mizumono

In the first part, Will is operating under the knowledge that Hannibal loves him, and his emotions come to the surface more openly. He can't and doesn't want to move on: the first thing he does upon waking up is voicing his pain at Hannibal leaving him to die, then berating himself for lying to him, then realizing Hannibal left him alive deliberately and that he wants to be found. Will begins to analyze their conversations and quickly figures out where he should go to look for him. After being released from the hospital, he starts building a boat to travel to Hannibal by sea. The nature of this action is romantic by itself - also, this scene is intercut with his Mizumono memories, namely, with Hannibal's face that emerges every time he moves yet another part of the engine. This is a vivid demonstration of Will trying to repair what is now broken. He openly admits to Jack that he wanted to run away with Hannibal.

Similarly, Will spends some time sitting in Hannibal's empty house. When Alana tries to reach out for him, he rejects her soundly and asks her to leave. He basically admits that he still loves Hannibal in their conversation, telling Alana about their pact of ignoring "the worst in one another in order to continue enjoying the best." These instances show that Will is pining hard, that his feelings are so intense that he no longer even bothers to hide them from Alana and Jack. The whole E2 is Will's love letter to Hannibal - he's reverent about him, he thinks about him non-stop, and he tries to find him very hard, even literally chasing him down. He even lies at the place where Hannibal left him his "broken heart," as if needing closer physical contact.

Things begin to shift as Will meets Chiyoh. It deserves a separate meta, but I feel like Will starts drawing comparisons between them and comes to a conclusion that Hannibal doesn't love him after all. That if he abandoned Chiyoh, whom he was supposed to love, so easily, for so many years, without bothering to return to her, then maybe he's just not capable of love. Seeing Bedelia as his replacement just reinforced this idea, so Will returned to his bitter and vengeful state, hence his attempt with a knife in Dolce. The end of Dolce and the whole Digestivo put Will through hell, and by the end of it, he's absolutely done. A big part of him doesn't believe Hannibal loves him, and at this point, he's no longer motivated to find out whether it's so. Will of Digestivo is a huge contrast to Will as he was in Primavera: the hope, the glow are gone, he retreats into his shell again.

Post-Digestivo

Fast forward 3 years and Will is still a shell. He might be married, he might share some lovely moments and jokes with Molly, but he's not happy. The first time we see their family, they are apart - and not just apart, Molly and Walter are actually fishing, something Will loves, while Will chose to stay alone and brood. Jack comes to find him and that's where everything starts.

First, let's consider the fact that Will didn't hide away from Jack even though he could. If he truly wanted the old life to be over, he'd have moved somewhere where neither Jack nor the FBI would be able to find him, cutting all ties. He could do it. Instead, he remained more or less visible. Instead of kicking Jack out, Will allows him to share the details about the case with him despite his half-hearted protests. Will is not a malleable person who's easily subdued or intimidated: he might go with the flow because he finds it more comfortable, but he's more than capable of sending someone to hell, especially now. This Will is the one who lied to Jack repeatedly, who chose to beat a man almost to death instead of shooting him, who mutilated his body and ate it, using his suit as a trophy. This Will chose Hannibal over everyone else, ignored the fact that people like Jack and Alana suffered and forgave him, hinted to Pazzi that he might join Hannibal in killing him, coldly set up Chiyoh to kill or be killed, made a display from the body of a person who might have been innocent, for all he knew, and so on. So, this Will was fully capable of laughing in Jack's face and telling him to leave. He doesn’t do it.

More than that, Will told Jack to not show photos to Molly and then somehow ended up having him for dinner with them. In the middle of it, he conveniently gets up to follow Walter outside, leaving Molly and Jack alone. Like... come on. Will knew perfectly well what Jack was going to do. He *wanted* him to do it because he wanted to go. He was bored with this fake life, he "craved change", like Hannibal tells him later. Will manipulated the situation from the start, though how conscious this manipulation was remains ambiguous.

He lies to Jack about having to see Hannibal to restore his mindset even though we saw how perfectly he recreated everything just a few scenes ago. Will didn't bother to wait even for a week, he demanded a meeting with Hannibal right away. This betrays his impatience and his longing. Soon after that, he hunts Bedelia down and verbally attacks her. He's openly jealous and he's trying to establish what relationship she shared with Hannibal. "Is Hannibal in love with me?" is a very important question for Will because here, he finally admits to himself once and for all that yes, Hannibal does love him, that he (Will) does have complete influence over him.

So, these three years was Will taking a break from wondering about Hannibal's feelings, their history, and trying to pretend to live a normal life for the last time. A part of Will had to know it was doomed to fail, but he still gave it a half-hearted attempt.  He wasn't okay, though, and based on everything, I'd say he was getting close to snapping again. Maybe he'd live with his family for several more years, but the boredom would get to him eventually, and the longing to finally figure out whether Hannibal loves him or not, the need to be his true self and Become would drive him back into Hannibal's world.

We don't see the intensity of Will's suffering for the most part because we almost never saw him in any other state, so we find it familiar. He lived his whole life surrounded by lies, denial, and self-hatred. He's used to not being happy and complete. He was most open in the post-Mizumono period because he allowed himself to hope for something then. In all other instances, he's stiff and very reserved.

I'm annoyed at Will as well because his inability to decide on something and the whole miscommunication thing start to drive me crazy in S3, but I understand his conflict and I accept that he and Hannibal have very different ways of showing their feelings. I do hope that if there is S4, we'll get to see Will appreciate and love Hannibal more openly. Happy Will should be a big contrast to every other state we’ve seen him in.

[apriorisea]

BTS Imagine Series: Don’t Leave Me, Pt. 2

Hoseok x You

“Hey.”      Hoseok stares out the window, wondering if he remembered to remind you about the grocery delivery that was coming tomorrow. Maybe--     “Hoseok-ah!” Namjoon says more firmly, this time catching his friend’s attention.      Reaching for his phone---hopeful of sending you one more quick text before take-off---he turns distractedly. “What?”     “Is everything okay with you guys?”     Unease rocketing through him, he leaves his phone where it sits. “...What?”     Namjoon is holding up his phone; Hoseok gets a quick look at the screen, which shows the chatroom between you and his friend. “She just sent this,” he says, turning the phone back around and re-reading the message.      “Is she okay??”     “Yes,” Namjoon answers immediately, reassuringly.      “What did she say?”     His friend hesitates, suddenly wondering if he should’ve said anything at all. But it was too late now. “She asked me to please keep an eye on you this trip. She’s worried about you, I think.”      “Oh.” Some of the unease fades, and he sits back in his seat. Thinking back to last night, he remembered every time you had tried to ask him a question---and how he had dodged each of them. At the time, he had thought he’d done it well, but looking back...      “So,” Namjoon tries again. “Are you guys okay?”     Frowning slightly, Hoseok looks over. “Did you mention anything to her about the defamation case?”     “No. Of course not.”     “Did you tell her I had stiff muscles in practice the other day?”     Namjoon’s eyebrows are nearly at his hairline, trying to understand where his friend was coming from. “...No. What’s going on?”     Hoseok sighs heavily. “I just...She must be worried about some stuff that she overheard. Not a big deal.”     “Okay.” Namjoon was still studying him intently. “But...all of that stuff is true. You have been struggling and we are heading towards a defamation lawsuit---”     “Yeah, but she doesn’t know about that.” Hoseok forces himself to take a breath. “I wonder who told her?” His eyes wander to Jungkook and Taehyung, who are sitting a few seats ahead.       “So,” Namjoon says after a moment, “Why, exactly, does she not know about those things?”      He’s not sure how to answer.     “Come on, man. What’s going on?” Namjoon drops his tone a little, trying to remind his friend that it was just him, not a big threat.       “I....” Twisting in his seat, he meets Namjoon’s eyes honestly. “We’ve only been together 2 months.”      Namjoon nods. “And they’ve been good, haven’t they?”      “The best,” he emphasizes. “But....” Exhaling heavily, he says, “You know how rough this life is. You know how much it can tear at the people who live on the perimeter.” His eyes unconsciously went to the back of Seokjin’s head. “We all saw what happened with hyung and his last girlfriend: all the pressure, the stress, the intensity---it freaked her out, chased her away.”      Namjoon doesn’t look away. “You’re afraid she’ll leave?” he asks somberly.     “I’m afraid,” Hoseok admits softly, “that she’ll see all this mess and decide it’s too much work.”      “Hoseok---”     “I can’t lose her.” The words are honest, raw, pained. “It’s only been 2 months, but I love her more than anyone or anything in this world. The thought of her walking away because of all of this,” he gestures vaguely around the cabin of the private jet, “is just too much....it terrifies me.”     His friend is studying him carefully. “She’s stronger than that,” he says finally. “Nothing against hyung’s ex,” he says, his eyes also darting sadly to the back of Seokjin’s head, “but she wasn’t the right one.” Holding his phone up again to flash your name quickly, he continues, “But she is. She loves you, remember? She wouldn’t let anything come between the two of you.”      Hoseok is shaking his head slowly. “Didn’t we all say the same thing about hyung’s relationship, 2 months in? 3 months? And she ended up breaking his heart by walking away anyway.”     “But---”     “Look,” Hoseok interrupts him. “I don’t lie to her, really. But...some of the darker, heavier things....I want to keep them from her for as long as possible.” He hesitates, waiting for Namjoon’s reaction. When none came, he sighs again, “Please don’t say anything to her. I know you guys are friends, but---”      “Relax.” Namjoon sat back in his seat. “I don’t necessarily agree with your methods,” he says honestly, “But it’s your relationship. I wouldn’t dare interfere.”     Relieved, he nods. “Thanks.”     “But I am going to tell her that I promise to look out for you.”     Smiling humorlessly, Hoseok shrugged. “I appreciate it. I’m sure that’ll help her feel a little better.”     There’s quiet for a moment while Namjoon types out his answer. Finally, reaching for his headphones, he says, “Just...be careful that you aren’t accidentally pushing her away by doing this. Right?”      “Right.” He grabs his phone and pulls up your messages. “Thanks, Namjoon.”      “Sure.”      He finishes his text just as the pilot makes the announcement that they were ready to leave: I love you, angel. Don’t worry. I’ll see you soon <3

----

    NAMJOON: Of course I will keep an eye on him. Don’t worry. Take care of yourself, yeah?       Taking a small breath, you release it slowly, rolling over onto your side and reading the text again. Of course it had been too much to hope that Joon would willingly offer up some insider information without being asked. Still...at least he promised.      You type a message back: Thanks, Joon. Keep me updated on everything, pls! Have a good flight~     A second after you hit send, your phone vibrates with another message.      MY HOPE: I love you, angel. Don’t worry. I’ll see you soon<3     Your first reaction is a satisfied grin, your heart melting a little as you read the words “I love you” over and over again. But the satisfaction suddenly slips away. Don’t worry. There’s no way this was a coincidence. Which meant they had been talking about you. Which meant that Namjoon had told Hoseok about the content of your message.      It takes a lot for you to resist the urge to text your friend back and berate him for ratting you out. I’m sure the plane is taking off soon, you remind yourself. But this doesn’t stop you from sending 3 heart emoticons and a giant I LOVE YOU MORE message back to your boyfriend.      You stare at your phone for a full minute, waiting to see if anything was coming back. When nothing does---not a surprise---you sigh and set it down. The apartment is perfectly silent, and had been since 4:30 that morning, when Hoseok had gently pulled you from your sleep with lots of soft kisses across your face. Closing your eyes, you try to remember exactly what had happened:       “Angel...”      You opened your eyes sleepily. “Wh--wha? Hobi, what’s wrong??”      He smiles as he kisses your forehead again. “Nothing, angel, don’t worry. I’m sorry to wake you up, I just...” he hesitates, and when he continues, his voice sounds slightly distorted. “I’m leaving now and I wanted to say goodbye.”     At this, you sit up wildly, almost smacking your head against his. “Already??” you say, wide-eyed with panic. You look over at your alarm clock. “I---” Blinking stupidly, you turn back to him and see that he’s dressed and ready to go, his favorite travel bag slung over his shoulder. Your eyes well up with sudden tears. “Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you woke me up. You should’ve gotten me up sooner.” You swing your feet out of bed. “Do you want coffee? Tea? Hot choco? I can---”      “Shh.” Dropping his bag, he sits on the bed next to you, turning and taking your face gently in his hands. “It’s okay. Just relax.” Stroking his thumbs across your cheeks, he smiles faintly. “The car is already here. I love you.”      “I love you too,” you say immediately. “I’m going to miss you so much, Hobi.” Your voice breaks---the product of only having 3 hours of sleep so far---and you duck your head, burying it against his shoulder and wrapping your arms around him.       He hugs you back immediately, crushing you close. “I know,” he murmurs, and he has to clear his throat before saying your name gently. “But I’ll be back really soon. I promise. And I’ll text you every morning.”      Trying to pull yourself together, you nod. “You better,” you threaten.       This makes him laugh. “All right, little koala: time to let go,” he teases gently. When you pull back, he meets your eyes with a smile and carefully wipes your tears away. “Oh, my beautiful angel. Don’t cry.”      “Not crying,” you insist. “There’s a lot of dust in my eyes.”      His signature grin bursts across his face and you only have a few seconds to enjoy it before he leans in to kiss you. “Be safe.”      “You too,” you agree, feeling your heart sink as he got to his feet and gathered his bag again. “Really, Hoseok. Take care of yourself and be really careful.” You’re already expecting some kind of brush off.     Instead he grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. “I promise,” he says against your skin, his eyes locked on yours. “I’ll see you soon.”      You nod, and with a final whispered “Love you,” he’s gone.       You hadn’t gone back to bed right away. First you’d listened to the sound of your front door shut, then you’d strained to hear the sound of his car pull away And then there was nothing. Silence. Empty, Hoseok-less silence.       Feeling sad again, you roll over and grab his pillow, hugging it to you and burying your face in it. It was a good thing today was Sunday, because the idea of getting out of bed and being productive was.....too much.      “3.5 weeks,” you mumble into the pillow. “It’s only 3.5 weeks.”     It felt like an eternity. 

[zamilemzizi]

A trip down lockdown memory lane!

A trip down memory lane

As my business steadily builds itself back up, with a new face and some Covid-influenced changes, I look back at what it was like for a few months last year as just the “Mom.” The South African lockdown, one of the strictest in the world at that time, forced most of us Marketing and PR SME owners to close our doors and focus on creating a safe and “new normal” environment for ourselves and our families.

My parents both contracted the Corona Virus and so, it was left up to me to care for ALL five grandchildren for a few months. Including my own children, I had two five-year-olds’ (one boy; Wandi and one girl; Koli), one nine-year-old girl (Thotse), a twelve-year-old girl (Lungi) and the legend himself, my two-year-old son (Bugsy) whom you will have read a lot about on my personal Facebook page. As if that was not enough, we rescued an eight-week-old puppy (Luna) too!

Being a person known for preferring the company of all the Mzizi grandchildren, I was up for the challenge of this time spent being reacquainted with the daily struggle of just-being-the-mom-with-no-work without the pressure of having to go to work.

I acknowledge that my experience of this time is grossly different to that of a majority of my fellow countrymen/women, who struggled to make ends meet. Zam’s Hive started a fund, which generously received funds donated by almost ALL of my clients, close friends and colleagues from my place of work. We used these funds to assist families who wrote in via WhatsApp and SMS stating what their urgent needs were and paired them with the correct donor. I was astounded at how the people I knew were able to look beyond their own experience of the Lockdown, and were able to give the little (or lot) that they had to keep hope alive.

However, being the stay-at-home mom yielded quite a few hilarious experiences, which naturally, I shared on social media as they happened. Here are some of these posts. I hope they make you chuckle a bit at my expense. I hope they remind you that no matter how bleak the situation, our inner circle, our families, our children, the people that matter most to us are the ones we should keep our focus on.

How the wars began…

Wandi’s benevolent fart

Raising boys is a BREEZE!

My Wandi has reached that age where every hug and cuddle is a conscious decision on his part to be with me. It says, ' I choose to be near YOU. I choose you, mommy'

So imagine my joy as I was working in my office and my big boy chose that moment to sit on my lap...

He sat facing me, flashed his special smile and said' 'Mommy, let me show you how much I love you'

He put his hands on my shoulders and closed his beautiful brown eyes. I could see him mentally reaching deep within himself in order to share what he had to say. Then...

I felt it. A persistent drill-like hammering on my sturdy thigh where his bony bum was perched.

The stench was instant and the fog it created in my mind was confusion personified. I could not immediately compute that my baby came all this way just to fart on me. As realization dawned on me, my little angel held onto me just a little bit tighter to keep me in place as the hammer-drill was still operating. My thin leggings were no barrier from the barrage of bodily functions battering my poor skin.

During this assault, Wandi did not change his facial expression at all. He looked like a little Buddha bestowing a blessing upon a lesser mortal.

When he was done, he nimbly sprang off my leg and bestowed a beguiling cherubic smile upon me. Slowly reversing from the room with his cheesy smile and eyes closed, he blessed me with his benevolent ' enjoy the smell mommy' and quietly closed the door.

Bugsy drinks shit water

I'm on my knees begging for this changeling to be taken. Return Bugsy pre-terrible twos to me please!

I went into the toilet for a teensy while. I'd been holding it in for some time chasing my kids around. To my knowledge, fake Bugsy was safely chilling on my bed.

As my empty bladder and I float out the bathroom, changeling proudly displays a cup of water he is drinking...now this is a problem because all taps and cups are beyond his reach. This cup looks like the dirty one I ignored on the floor a teensy while back- are you judging me Karen?!

I frantically urge fake son to show me if he got water from the other toilet. He proudly replies, ' I no drink here Wandi peepee here' This is good. It's great actually. Wandi has diarrhea and drinking from his toilet could kill someone. Never mind Corona.

So I drag the smirking not-really-my-son into the kitchen to wash this mysterious cup. At this stage I'm fuming at the lord thinking 'turn this crap into wine NOW'

As I wash the still alcohol free cup, I turn to find swopped-at-birth guy smacking his lips and drinking from the bucket mqobothi style.

MY HEART SKIPS A BEAT!

I used water and Jik to clean dog poop just now. I spilled the water but clearly not all of it. What's worse here? Jik poisoning or dog poop poisoning?

The terror child is ok. I gave him milk and surrendered the rest to his creator.

I'm ok. I have a new twitch in my eye and I think I might have peed my pants a little. But otherwise baaah I'm good.

No really.

Just fine.

Look- fake son took the tin of milk and smeared the stuff on himself.

I'm just FINE!

Then the tensions were rising

The stand off

In a bid to demonstrate his defiance of my authority, my two year old has taken the long life milk and some shopping bags to an undesirable corner of the house. He has boldly announced that, 'I puttinnnin me in noty cona' This is his strategy to deprive my authority of putting him in a corner myself. The standoff continues...

Sulking in the shower

I swear I don't make this stuff up...

Wandi just played with matches and his cousins came to tell on him. Naturally I gave him 'the look' times 10. He says to me,

'I know you're cross with me and wont talk to me.'

He stalks off to the shower and sits there while singing his new and spontaneously composed struggle song. The words weren't too clear but this is what I heard:

Take me away in peace, take me away in peace.

 Please note he has taken to eating some of his meals in this shower.

Can someone please send me a bottle of gin??!      Its for the kids.

 The breaking point

Exacting revenge in small ways

My kids broke my hair clippers machine while I was cutting them. So now I'm leaving them with unfinished cuts because one needs to take revenge wherever the opportunity may present itself-even if it's your own kids. They think they know me. Mxim!

 Mom flu strike

I've been in bed with flu for a week now. During this my kids haven't given me an inch of space and rest.

I'm still a horse, jungle gym, chef, personal snot cleaner and unwilling audience to dance shows and song decompositions.

Tonight was just the worst! I went to the chemist for more meds and so needed a nap from the trip. Only to realize that I'd over slept and it was supper time.

After a mad dash to cook, serve and feed the royal highnesses, I'd had enough.

Where am I now? What am I doing now? These are all relevant questions I'm happy to answer for you.

I'm in my bedroom. For the first time since I became a mother, I have done the only sensible thing a tired parent can do...

I'VE LOCKED MY BEDROOM DOOR BIYAAACHES!

The situation update is as follows:

Hostile!

1.  Two year old has attempted breaking door down

I DON'T CARE!

2. Five year old has resorted to creepy body plastering against door and quietly chanting 'mooommyyyy can we have ice cream while you die?'

I  DON'T   CARE

3. In a rare show of solidarity the boys are now howling like wolves outside the door, throwing in the odd 'moooommmy where are youuuu'

I    D O N T   C A R E!

4. Nine year old niece has increased the volume and frequency of her coughing

IIIIIIIII DOOOOOOOONT CAAAAAAARE!

I'm at peace in my warm bed. Let the siege continue I have all that I need in here. A bathroom, all the toilet paper in the house, the only phone with airtime and did I mention -I'm the only person tall enough to cook. Muhahuahua!

They will know me!

 The resolution?

Wandi prays for peace

So as usual the kids were acting up and driving me crazy before bedtime. This time however, the transgressions were extreme.

Someone didn't pee INSIDE the toilet but decided to mark his territory next to it instead.

Another decided to generously leave food on a dinner plate and put it in the kitchen sink for Santa maybe.

Another was dejectedly roaming the passage without pajama bottoms like a homeless person. Left to wander the night in shame and bottomlessness.

This was the last straw and I blew my top off.

EVERYONE TO BED WITHOUT A STORY NOW!

Even the little one understood that Armageddon was nigh, and scurried into bed as fast as his fat stubby legs could carry him (only half way up the bed usually).

In an unusually respectful and hesitant tone, Wandi bravely reminded me that I forgot to pray. So fine! I asked God to please help me make my children good etc.

Wandi again bravely offered to pray too and this is where he played his master plan into action (he never wants to pray):

Wandi: Dear God, please make all my dreams come true. The end.

 Yes. He said the end and not AMEN. I felt a reluctant smile coming on but I was wise to the enemy.

The next morning the kids all came to greet me in that way guilty kids do hoping for a cease-fire.

'Good morning rakhali' etc.

Then the master played his Ace move.

Wandi: In the name of Jesus, good morning everyone!

 How could I remain grumpy after my son evoked the name of Jesus?!

He's goooooood. One point to Wandi. None to me.

 Please subscribe to my blog and follow me on social media for more insights into; what goes on in the life of a working mom building an empire. All the links are below. My women’s network as well as my courses are also available on this site.

[clockworkmoose]

Oof 2020 recap.

I stepped down from my job in... End of Jan? Early Feb? with the intention of 1. getting away from a crazy employee I was not being paid enough to deal with and was not allowed to fire, 2. Finally had enough savings that I wasn’t a constant ball of insecurity, and I could take 9 months off with no income before I’d start worrying, and 9 months felt like a good time frame to try and be self employed and sell crafts/plushies at conventions.

Because why wouldn’t there be a bunch of conventions to sell things at in 2020???

Not working 50 hour weeks was also supposed to give me time to plan August wedding, and make wedding dress.

March, start sending out wedding invites. Two weeks later, Cuomo shuts down the entire state. *~*Timing~*~

Send out “woops hold that thought” cards.

The fiance had to transition to teaching his classes over zoom, and making youtube videos, which ends up being a 12-hour, 7-day a week time commitment. On the plus there, that was a huge crash course in video editing he finally had a reason to learn. And serendipitously, me had his brother had gotten him a bunch of camera and recording equipment to bully him into doing movie reviews on youtube, so he actually had the stuff he needed to teach online effectively. He takes over half of my craft room immediately after I reorganized and spread things out to make sewing more efficient and organized. Sewing stuff gets re-squished back into the corner. :<

April, i sew so many masks. so so many. i do not like sew mask. ;~;

Etsy sticks more fees on their site! I make a website! Web design has changed a fuckton since ye olden dayes of neopet pet pages! I have no idea what I’m doing; can’t even add a glitter trail following the cursor around! Where is the option for autoplay music in the background! Lame!

Mid June, and no end in sight for, ...y’know, so we cancel August wedding and push our deposit back to 2021. Fiance was really bummed about not getting the specific date so like a week later the venue says we can still show up with a small group and get “official married” outside on the day. I’m not gung-ho for this at all, but James is, so we decide to do that; start scrambling. I make my dress but like. From what was supposed to be the first drape fabric, because fabric store’s still closed. I like it, but idk!

I didn’t think I actually cared super much about wedding details, like I didn’t have a “dream wedding” as a kid or have a moodboard or anything... All I was really hoping for was having family there since I only get to see all the cousins maybe once every 7-10 years, and making my own dress. Since big family gather was obviously not allowed, not even being able to make my dress in the way I saw it in my head was just kinda... disgruntling? I guess? Sad emotions I can’t really put to words, and not strong enough to overrule fiance having strong happy emotions about getting to keep our original wedding date.

New York gathering limit is raised to 25, so my family (6) and his (2) plus us and officiant (3) all get together and yay, officially married on August 1st! Until we get paperwork from NY state, and ha ha funny story, officiant signed the paperwork for August 2. Officiant apologizes, sends in a correction letter, so now we’re officially married on the 2nd, but have a footnote in state records that says *(actually it was Aug. 1).

So like, I’m happy we got married, that’s a happy part of the day, but 1. family wasn’t there, 2. didn’t get to make the dress I was hoping to, 3. we didn’t even get the fucking date we did all this for??? It’s a complicated mix of emotions and I’m finding myself just kinda ignoring the fact we actually got married instead of trying to grapple and force the positive feelings to outweigh the negative. SHRUG EMOJI HAHA. DEALING WITH OUR FEELINGS? SOUNDS SUS.

September, my former job reopens, asks if I want to come back, because the person I trained as my replacement ended up quitting because she didn’t want to come back. Neither do I.

October, they hire a new manager, and I end up going in to train her a few days, and cover for her a few more days, and now I’m on call to help out, because I am a big wimpy pushover and did actually really like my job, and like the new lady taking over and don’t want things to be hard for her.

November, I got glasses! I have discovered that the world should NOT be blurry when it is 10 feet away from you.

I know I struggle without a defined definite schedule and my brain latches on to any possible distraction, so this year has been heck. Mental health-wise, I’m doing much better now that I’m not in daily contact with chaos employee! But productivity and focus-wise? ZIP ZILCH ZERO. It has been a STRUGGLE. I don’t have a distraction free zone because of James doing work-from-home teaching, and I don’t have a defined schedule of social events and work shifts to keep me on task. I kinda feel like my brain has turned into a bunch of smokey fog that’s just kinda swirling around inside my head, and every once in a while I emerge and realize a week has passed and I have not checked my email or talked to another non-husband human being in that time.

Oh, and small schadenfreude update on chaos employee- she didn’t have a job until the state reopened, wasn’t eligible for unemployment during the shutdown apparently, her husband finally got the divorce he’s been pushing for for the past decade, and she had to sell her 5k$ sewing machine to be able to make the monthly payments on it. And when she came in to the store once it reopened, new manager had already been warned that she was banned from the premises.

But before she was chased out, she rambled on about how she thought the government was tracking her phone so she got a new one and didn’t back up any of her contacts, and she was hoping new manager would give her my number again because we’re “””best friends.”””””””  Manager declined to assist.

CHAOS LADY DOESN’T HAVE MY NUMBER OR ADDRESS ANY MORE. :D

[shardminds]

fortune favours the brave

pairing: emma swan/killian jones rated: m (for language & depiction of injury & just to be safe) wc: 5189 pacific rim!au

She passes the pseudo-drift but Killian can’t quite meet her eyes afterwards and Emma catches herself wondering, with clenched fists, if it’s all worth it.

just a warning, this is an open-ended work, meaning the ending is up to your own interpretation and i most likely will not be writing anything else to clarify... unless i decide to have another crack at this au down the line and completely rewrite the whole thing but i am a lazy bitch above all else with too many things to do so please don't get your hopes up!

my initial tag for this was "dealing with the weight of a neurological bond that reveals a lot more about yourself than you’d like." but ao3 said it was too long

this was intended as a birthday present to myself but it's 12 days late and i won't apologise.

also available on ao3 ♠

@artistic-writer is my saviour and i love her.

As soon as the pincer hits her spine, the simulation is over. Quicker than death could ever have captured her, quicker than the pain she was expecting in her lower back, quicker than blinking past a fallen beast and thinking it long past dead. If it were real, she wouldn’t have to deal with the disappointment of her superiors as they marked another tally in the opposite column of their tablets.

Kaiju: 3, Swan: 0.

Pixels dissipate into the air, audios and visuals power down as the relay gel leaks from her display, Killian sighs over the comms and the four walls of the training centre scream failure. Unclasping the plug at her neck, she collapses to the floor. Defeated.

“If your intention was to get paralysed, love, congratulations.” He’s exasperated, words clipped, and she knows he’s probably running his hand through his hair in that way he does or rolling his eyes or praying for this to be over. She can picture it so well because she’s been there, supervising rangers through the same process. That had been her job, her safe space. Then Marshal Mills had coerced her into a compatibility trial with the promise of a bigger bunk and a night off with the last bottle of bourbon on deck. Suddenly, nowhere was safe anymore. “It’s just a simple test,” she’d said, rolling her eyes at Emma’s reluctance to even try. “What harm can it do?”

If he catches the curses under her breath as she stands, he doesn’t let on.

Killian had managed to pass her simulated drift space on the second attempt—eviscerating a CAT 3 with ease and ignoring the distractions along the way. He didn’t talk about what stopped him the first time. Neither did she.

She was not so lucky, struggling not to forget herself in the memories of his past. Each step deeper into the consciousness he’d moulded dragged her further away from the task at hand. Each step closer to finding out what keeps Killian Jones awake at night is a step away from truly knowing him. She felt it all. His pain, grief and loss coming in overwhelming waves, only serving to intensify her own. Each time she failed, she understood him a little bit better and lost herself a little bit more.

Robin said it’s the trauma that helps their compatibility and the resilience in light of such pain. Will said it’s because they’re both insufferable cunts.

You can’t choose your drift partner.

“Again.” Adjusting the helmet slightly, she pulls up her vitals on the inner screen. BP a little high, heart rate too, brainwaves stable. Good enough. If she could just get past the random-access brain impulse triggers, the lure of Killian’s fabricated conflicts, she’d be showering the fabricated city in fabricated Kaiju Blue.

(Of course, she’d never really do that. Regina doesn’t need a reason to resent her.)

“Swan, take five.” The comm in her inner ear buzzes. Killian, again. There’s a tension to his tone, as if he could snap at a moment's notice. It’s not easy, having someone else inside your head—even when it’s not real. It’s worse when every inch of it is projected in agonisingly high definition to your commanding officers. Emma’s been living through his trauma while he’s been forced to watch it back, time and time again. She’ll get it next time.

Next time.

Always next time.

“No, count me down.”

“Swan—”

“My vitals are fine! No bleeds, no dizziness, motor function all good.” The CNS link connects to the back of her neck with a twist of her wrist and a dull click. Power vibrates through the plug suit, humming like the anticipation Emma can feel beneath her own skin. “One more try, I’m almost there.”

There’s no response from Killian. No quip or complaint. He’s silent as Emma closes her eyes and opens them to the darkness of the drift. The next voice she hears is Robin’s.

“Five.”

Her world is blue. Warped. Memories zipping past her that she does and doesn’t remember. Emma recognises one woman’s face from her previous pseudo-drifts. She has a name somewhere.

“Four.”

The woman walks off to some kind of middle distance, between nothing and nowhere. She indicates for Emma to follow with the crook of her finger and a smile.

“Three.”

It’s not Emma she’s seeing.

“Stop chasing it, Emma. Two.”

Taking a breath, Emma wills away the apparition, tuning in to the pounding of her own heartbeat and that of someone else’s — Killian’s, strong and steady. It grounds her.

“Prepare for Neural Handshake.”

When the Kaiju pincer swings for her, she slices it clean off.

She passes the pseudo-drift but Killian can’t quite meet her eyes afterwards and Emma catches herself wondering, with clenched fists, if it’s all worth it.

//

A CAT 3 and two CAT 2’s attack what’s left of San Francisco a week later in the largest triple event in recorded history and yes, it’s definitely worth it.

Ruby and Graham are deployed in Lone Wolf, along with two Jaegers from Alaska. The fight, like all fights, is raw and too close. Always too close. They return half a day later, lucky to have made it out with their lives. The bags under Jefferson’s eyes carry the weight of the world as he reports back to the bridge with the news.

They’ll never pilot again.

Killian finds her later, sat atop Frozen Serenity with a half-empty hip flask and a cigarette. He doesn’t question her or the tears she wears. He holds her, one arm wrapping around Emma’s shoulders, pulling her into his chest. It’s too close, too much but not enough. It’s times like this—times of wordless understanding—that she’s glad of the bond they supposedly have.

Thankfully, he doesn’t waste his words with reassurance. Regina had spent the last thirty minutes on the comms for everyone to hear. The threat was eliminated; victory, but at what cost? Ruby and Graham had been wheeled in on gurneys, surrounded by medics and techs and escorted directly to isolation. Their Jaeger followed shortly after, complete with thick gashes to its middle and a viciously pierced conn-pod leaking rivulets of coolant and Kaiju blood. It didn’t take Emma long to see why they’d ushered the pilots away.

Sneaking off had been a non-issue.

“Next time,” The warmth of his body offers only slight comfort from the chill of the hangar but she’s grateful for it. “It’ll be us.”

“We might not even drift yet. The simulation is nothing like the real thing.” The lump in her throat has her choking around the words. The fragility of it all should frighten her, but it doesn’t. She’s not scared. There’s no time for fear.

“We will.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s called trust.” When he smiles, sad but hopeful, the tears come again.

It’s all worth it, even if she loses herself in the process.

//

Jolly Roger, a Mark 3 with a history of fallen pilots, had been in pretty bad shape when Emma had seen it come through the east coast bunker a year ago. With a compromised pod and basically no left side, it was a mess.

Will had already sized the wreck up for parts before it’d even docked in the hangar.

“There’s no way it’ll run again. Core to Wolf, pod fixed up for Snow’s Mark 4, shocks to whoever needs them most and the rest for scraps and refurbs.” He’d said, around a mouthful of instant mac and cheese. Emma rolled her eyes, grabbing a bite of her own meagre rations. “Bet as much as you want, you know I’m right.”

After six months, when Marshal Mills announced they needed a co-pilot for Jolly, Emma collected her prize with a smile and a disgruntled “Fuck off.” from the mechanic.

Seeing it now, all shiny and new, with a fresh core, updated weapon systems and a slick paint job was like looking at a different machine entirely. Killian has the same awestruck glaze to his expression that she has.

He says something under his breath that sounds like “I missed you.”

//

Three days later, atop the bunker looking out at the wasteland the eastern seaboard has become, Killian finds her again. The horizon is permanently tinged green these days, thick with smog rising from the polluted city that used to be Boston. It’s something else now, something new entirely. New York had really done a number on the east coast.

“So,” he starts, a six pack in his good hand and a thick file—her file—in his mechanical one. “It seems that the fate of the earth relies on us getting intimate, love.”

Emma shrugs his comment off with an eye roll. “In your dreams.”

“In my dreams, we wouldn’t be drinking this backwash,” she catches the bundle of cans as it falls to her lap and pulls two free of the casing. Killian slumps down beside her, a welcome warmth against her side. He’s always warm. “And you’d be wearing a lot less.”

“Pervert.” Her cheeks flush from the windchill and not because of the wink he sends her way as he takes a can from her lap.

He shrugs, gulping back his beer. “I’ve been called a lot worse.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“I doubt anything could, lass.”

He reads in relative silence, which Emma appreciates, only pausing to ask questions at the redacted statements in her story. There’s no point in hiding anything from him now—soon, he’ll see it all. There’s something about Killian Jones that she trusts and she’s not exactly sure why.

“You were there? In New York?” He thumbs the report sheet, filled with more censoring than words. She doesn’t remember much of it; being eighteen, the toils of pregnancy, wrongful imprisonment, the first Kaiju attack on the east coast, holding her child to her chest as the walls crumbled. The memories are all so distant, it almost feels like someone else lived them.

Emma nods. “Unfortunately.”

Killian doesn’t push for the details; all the relevant ones are written on the sheet he’s holding. How they’d found her bleeding beneath rubble and dust, clutching the bundle of blankets and the body within. There hadn’t been time for a funeral.

She’s shaking when he takes her hand.

“It was my first deployment. On a CAT 4, no less.” He traces circles around her knuckles as if they’re anything but strangers. She doesn’t have it in her heart to stop him. “Cataclysm, they called it. The ugliest bloody thing I’d ever seen. Liam, the comedian he is—was, spent the whole fight calling it all kinds of names as we tore it to pieces bit by bit.” He takes another sip of his can, eyes locked on the horizon. “I felt him die that day.”

His thumb doesn't stop tracing its pattern, but she grips his hand tighter—part shock, part understanding.

“Jewel never stood a chance. The emp left us wide open and the blasted thing used its last breath to launch at the conn-pod and—”

“You don’t have to, Killian.” She whispers, beer forgotten at their feet. “You don’t have to relive it.”

“But I do. Every time I step foot in the hangar, I relive it. Every time I drift, or spar or train. Every time I look in the mirror I see his face staring back at me.” He sighs, letting his posture slip further. He’s no longer a Ranger. He’s a lost boy. The grief he carries, the guilt, is something she recognises. “I miss him, Emma, and there’s nothing I can do about that.”

Wind blows, alarms ring, sun filters through the murky atmosphere and casts them both in its golden glow and Emma Swan pulls him in for a hug.

He stiffens in her embrace before leaning into it, letting the tension dissipate beneath her touch. It’s intimate in a way that doesn’t need words and her breath catches at the sight of a teardrop on his cheek.

Putting space between them again is hard, but necessary.

“I know you’ve probably heard this a thousand times, but you better be prepared to hear it a thousand more. It’s not your fault. It was never your fault. It will never be your fault. We’re Rangers. We’re disposable. The world is ending and we’re the first line of defence. If we fall—” He’s watching her so intently, hanging on her every word.

There’s no way to soften the blow of a death sentence.

“We’re going to die in a Jaeger, Killian, that much is inevitable. We won’t grow old. We won’t pass in our sleep. We’ll go screaming at the hands of a Kaiju and, I don’t know about you, but I plan on taking a fair share of those fuckers with me in the process.”

A nod.

A squeeze.

A gulp.

He’s still holding her hand when they return to the artificial warmth of the hangar.

//

He used to drink black coffee, dark and bitter. She hates it, preferring sweetness over caffeination in her warm beverages but getting her own would require a trip to the cafeteria earlier than she’d like to be awake. A few seconds of grimacing over the taste is worth it for the extra half hour of sleep. Killian’s an early riser—of course, he is. It’s a wonder they’re compatible at all.

Killian initially tried to put up a fight over it, hold it out of her reach like kids on the playground or finish it off before Emma could even think of crawling out of her quarters, but she wore him down, little by little.

They’re working on Jolly with Will when she takes a sip, stealing the travel mug from his hand and already half wincing for the unsweetened assault. When surprisingly palatable coffee hits her tongue, she almost chokes. It’s not half bad; no acrid punch of burnt grounds, no grainy aftertaste. Instead, it’s sweet. Creamy. Not what she was expecting at all.

“What’s this?” She takes a sniff at the lid incredulously. Is that… syrup?

“According to Ms Lucas, this is what poses as a caramel latte these days. Filled to the brim with sugar, spice and all things nice, just how you like it.” Will hands him a tablet, outlining the Jaeger’s current specifications. Emma understands enough of it to get by—she’s more attuned to reading neural charts, not the gibberish the engineers put out—but Killian revels in the details. He doesn’t even look her way as he speaks, fully engrossed in the graphs, comparisons and visuals. It also means he doesn’t notice Emma eyeing up how good he looks with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a grease stain on his left cheek. Just the right amount of dishevelled. “Is there any way we can drop a few tonnes to help increase speed and manoeuvrability?”

Will peers at the tablet, overseeing the stats with a critical eye. “No, mate. Not without losing vital armouring.”

“What about swapping out the nuclear core?” Killian hums, swiping to the next screen.

“Don’t be daft, Killian. It’s brand new.”

“The arc-whip?”

“I’m gonna cut in and say no on that one.” Emma interjects, surprised that she even managed to drag her attention away from the warm, sweet beverage in her hands or the enigma of a man that let her take it. The arc-whip is her preferred weapon—combining both distance and close combat, great for the CAT 2’s and smaller CAT 3’s that like to stay just out of reach or dragging back the larger beasts from getting further inland. She’s the one that suggested it be added to Jolly’s arsenal in the first place.

“Come on, love.” Handing her the tablet and tapping a few menus, Killian points out Jolly’s stats without it. Their speed would be improved and their power longevity, but they’d be sacrificing their range completely. “Having an arc-whip and a plasma cannon is overkill.”

The mechanic chuckles, coming to her other side and throwing an arm around their shoulders. “Technically, the plasma cannon is overkill anyway. Massive power drain.”

“Don’t you start.” Killian bats his arm away and Will cocks an eyebrow in challenge.

“Just because I’m right.”

Before either of them can respond, the hangar shudders as alarms blare. The alarm they all dread.

The Breach.

//

The CAT 2—Axefury—with armour piercing spines and nasty blade-like mandibles, emerges just off the coast of Florida, stalking towards the shore.

Frozen Serenity is deployed, piloted by sisters Anna and Elsa.

The fight takes an hour.

Killian brings her another coffee as they watch the battle from the command centre. He doesn’t say a word, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as she tenses against the cold realisation.

It could’ve been them.

Next time, it will be.

//

When he knocks her on her ass, straddling her waist with his sparring staff pressed to her throat, Killian’s eyes are the bluest she’s ever seen, and it takes her a second to remember where they are. He smirks, allowing her space to breathe while keeping her thoroughly pinned down.

“Normally, I’d prefer to do other more enjoyable activities with a woman on her back.” With a voice like that, velvet and grit, Emma’s not sure if she wants to push him away or pull him closer. The watchful eye of Marshal Mills keeps her straight. The last thing anyone needs is a show. She struggles just enough to make him cocky before retaliating, using his own weight against him.

In a heartbeat, he’s the one on his back, head caught in a lock between Emma’s thighs. In the time it takes for him to realise what’s going on, eyes widening as he realises where he is, it’s too late. His weapon clatters to the edge of the crash mat, useless.

“For future reference,” She pants, squeezing her legs tighter until Killian taps out against the floor. “I prefer to be on top.”

He laughs and, despite the patrol alarm blaring down the hall and Regina’s eye roll, the world feels a little lighter.

//

When they drift in Jolly for the first time, the phantom woman from the pseudo-drift is nowhere to be seen. There’s a blip where Killian gets caught up in visions of destruction and earthquakes and rivers of blue eroding the streets of New York, but just as Emma feels the echoes of her memories in his mind, they’re gone. He’s in her head. An uncomfortable yet reassuring presence that she never thought she’d be able to endure again.

“Neural bridge initiated and holding strong. Well done, guys.” Robin chirps over the speakers, dragging them out of the initial drift space and back to their shared reality. She lifts her left arm as Killian lifts his right and they join the jaeger’s metallic palms in a salute that rumbles through the bowels of the hangar.

Cheers erupt from the comm lines as scientists and pilots and soldiers line the walkways and balconies to celebrate their achievement.

She can feel the haze of his irritation through the link.

“We’re another shot at hope for them.” Her uncalibrated right-hand takes his uncalibrated left wrist just above the brace of his prosthetic. He doesn’t flinch but his thoughts stutter, interlaced with images of her soft smile and memories of each time they’d sparred, each stolen hour on the rooftops, each close encounter, each moment that could’ve been an almost, or a maybe. Emma pauses just long enough to imagine What if?

She shakes them away. They owe each other that much.

“We’re a suicide mission.” He’s right and his voice buzzes in the back of her skull. If the comm deck picked up on his words, they don’t respond.

“Yeah,” she lets his arm fall back to his side, making sure her left side—the one that’s wired into the eight thousand tonne government-approved death machine—stays relatively still. “But it’s worth it.”

“Is it?”

She can’t tell the difference between his words and his thoughts right now.

Static crackles in the conn-pod before Robin’s voice calls out again. “Ready to take her for a spin?”

//

She kisses him, with trembling palms pressed to his chest. Because she wants to. Because she can. Because, more than anything else, she isn’t ready to die. Not now. He is slow to respond, one hand on her shoulder ready to put distance between them at a moment's notice, the other at her waist, pulling her closer. The corridor leading to their quarters is empty and, beneath the harsh light, he tastes like the coffee they’d shared for breakfast.

He doesn’t push her away. She’s grateful for that.

The absence of Killian in her head should be a relief but it isn’t. It feels… empty. The absence of a presence that had made itself at home. She’d worked with rangers for years, ever since the hangar took her in, learning the in’s and out’s of the neural bridge and working to better align pilots with an initial pseudo-drift before putting them through the real thing.

She’d never expected to like it.

It’s exhilarating.

The expiry date they have hanging over their heads is unavoidable now. They’re compatible, truly compatible, doubting that is no use to anyone and despite whatever lead them both to the corps, whatever it is she catches glimpses of when they drift, she trusts him.

Fingers still trembling and head thick with fog, Emma trusts him.

“That was—”

A mistake.

Long overdue.

A one-time thing.

Just the beginning.

“Worth it.”

//

“Emma—”

“Be quiet.”

She snakes a hand around his waist, using his surprise to yank him closer into the alcove, away from prying eyes. Their dark uniforms blend in the shadows. Chest to chest like this, Emma can barely catch her breath. The cold steel pipe against her back does nothing to dissuade the heat he’s putting out—seriously, how is he always warm? It’s impossible to avoid his gaze either, the intensity of it only magnified with their proximity.

There’s questions there—so many questions—but he doesn’t have to ask them. She knows.

Killian’s tongue darts out to wet his lips.

She knows.

David and Snow walk past none the wiser, caught up in a discussion about something or other. Emma can’t focus enough to listen in, too distracted by everything in her body that screams for her to pull Killian closer and slam their mouths together until they forget about the rest. She holds her breath until the other rangers round the corner at the end of the hall.

“Mills hasn’t cleared Humbert or Lucas for visitation. We’ll be turned away.” Killian whispers, mouth so close to her ear that she can feel his words better than hearing them. His cheek catches hers as he pulls back but he doesn’t get far, her hand still pressed to his side, holding him in place. His brows raise in surprise.

Her palm tingles against the empty air when she lets go.

“Let me do the talking.”

He nods, following as she exits into the corridor, only a half-step behind.

//

They don’t have clearance. The med bay doors beep dejectedly as Emma’s ID card fails to pass the security check. Will had promised it would work, he’d sworn. Either he lied, already ratted them out to the Marshal or—

Victor Whale.

“Mills already has her reports delivered to her directly every hour,” he sighs, tugging off his gloves, surgical mask and running a free hand through his hair. Emma can see the dark roots coming through. There’s no market for salon-quality peroxide at the end of the world, apparently. “With the intention of alleviating the need for rangers like yourselves to check in. Can’t you go be annoying somewhere else? I don’t have time to file insubordination paperwork, I’m already understaffed.”

Killian reaches out, pleading, his eyes wide and blue and honest. He grabs the doctor’s forearm with his mechanical hand.

“Please, mate. Just five minutes.”

Whale’s brow furrows focused on the prosthetic gripping his arm. The fear of disciplinary action outweighs a lot of things in the hangar.

//

She’s pale, too pale, and riddled with tubes and drips and monitors that beep along with the pace of her heart. The burns, blistered and seeping, are tinged blue with the toxic sludge that courses through Kaiju veins. Blue burns, as they’re colloquially referred, aren’t uncommon. There are ointments and salves to calm the low-level contact burns and sprays to neutralise the toxins in the acid. What’s left of the governments have put extensive measures in place to ensure that stuff like this doesn’t happen to the general public.

They don’t seem to care for rangers.

As Ruby’s skin sloughs from the slightest friction of the sterile sheets, Emma can feel the first clutches of fear curl around her throat.

Corpselike. That’s the only word that comes to mind. Ruby, once so full of life, has never looked so… not, and Emma can’t help but fall into step with the ventilator that’s currently breathing for her as if somehow it makes a difference. The steady whirr of the machine only working to wind up the anxieties simmering beneath the surface of her skin.

Next time, it’ll be them.

Next time, it’ll be her.

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

“We’re having to keep her under.” Someone —Victor? — hums, ignoring them both to look over the digitised chart at the foot of her bed. “There’s a lot of irrevocable damage that we’re still looking into while repairing what we can externally.”

Inhale.

“What about Gra— Ranger Humbert?” Killian's hand hasn’t left hers since they entered and, for what it’s worth, she’s thankful for the anchor and the ever-present warmth he offers. His presence is grounding and his words reflect her thoughts when she can’t quite reach her own.

Exhale.

It’s too much.

Inhale.

“More of the same”

Exhale.

They never should’ve come

//

His lips taste of salt.

The inevitability of death.

It burns.

“I don’t want to lose this.” she pants, soft against Killian’s lips as he smiles and steals it away. Like the future they don’t have. That she so painfully wished they could have. “I—”

His kisses trail to her ear, each one as gentle as the last. Too soft, too delicate. It terrifies and excites her how something as small as a kiss can melt her resolve to nothing. Any shadow of doubt disappearing with each step they take closer to the inevitable. After everything that had happened, from sneaking into the med bay, drowning the images with the last of that damn bottle of bourbon that started all this and sparring until they were both bruised and beaten and breathless, sex had been the last thing on her mind. It had crept up on her, crept up on them both, and it was impossible to deny.

That first rooftop rendezvous, first spar, first kiss, all those weeks ago, had cemented this. She can see that now.

Closing what little distance there is left between them, Killian walks her backwards until her thighs bump against the solid table behind them. “You won’t, love. I’ve got you.”

Each touch, each glance, each gasp is another goodbye.

His prosthetic rests on her waist as his other makes light work of the fastenings of her uniform, and she urges him on with a moan. She’s thankful they made it back to his quarters. They won’t make it to the bed.

Emma searches for answers as he pulls off his shirt, praying something in his eyes will reassure her that this—whatever this is—is okay, that they’re not terrible people for finding something worth fighting for at the end of the earth, anything to provide even a modicum of hope that maybe, just maybe, they’ll survive just long enough to have a chance at finding out if it is. She clutches at his shoulders, with nails biting into his skin, and breathes.

She doesn’t find the answers. Instead, she finds herself.

Scared and afraid, clinging to the last comfort she has left.

Three words bloom, fade and crumble in her mind, as fragile as a leaf on the wind and, before she can even speak them, Killian nods.

“I know.”

Somewhere deep inside her chest, behind broken walls and the rubble of a past life, something long since broken, beats.

//

Emma wakes up to warmth. An all encompassing warmth surrounding her so completely, an aura of heat welding together the cracks that had once debilitated her heart. So familiar, and pure and yet so foreign at the same time.

Each beat of her heart echoed by a shadow.

Each exhale mirrored by that of another, a soft caress against her nape.

The solid and comforting press of a body—his body—against her back, bringing forth memories of the night previous so slowly, like a crack in a dam; first a drip and then a flood. The synchronicity. The passion. The mutual need to just Be.

The absence of all thought except one.

Life is just too fucking short.

As if summoned by her mental recollection, Killian’s arm wraps around her waist. His lips ghost against the skin of her shoulder blade and the kiss he presses to her neck brings a smile to her face.

“Good morning, Swan.” He purrs, voice gravelly and wrapped in sleep. Damn, if Emma had only known he sounded like that first thing sooner—

The thought catches her off guard.

It’s so… normal. Domestic.

She could get used to it. She wants to get used to it.

“Mor—”

The spell shatters. The facade peels away to reveal the truth and the bliss that had wrapped her up in its glow is gone. Reality hits.

The blood-curdling scream of the one alarm they pray will never ring.

The Breach.

Robin’s voice screeches out over the comms in a panicked shout, followed by the calm and commanding call of Marshal Mills. Her own name and rank is called, along with Killian’s. Emma’s blood runs cold when the realisation hits.

A CAT 5.

All units to report.

Approaching New York.

Killian doesn’t move for what seems like an eternity, lips still pressed to her skin in an everlasting kiss, as if time has somehow warped around this very moment, stretching seconds into minutes, hours. Allowing them a chance to come to terms with what must happen next.

Their fates were sealed the second they stepped foot in the hangar.

Emma wrapped in a hospital gown. Killian in a battered, blood-stained plug suit.

“It’s okay.” He whispers, already drowned out by the blaring siren that fills every corner of the room. Emma can’t tell if he’s saying it for her sake or his own.

When she turns to him, pulling herself upright in the process and letting the cold of his quarters seep into her bare chest, he’s smiling. It’s by no means her favourite smile—wide and full of laughter—but it’s something and, for some crazy reason, she believes in it.

She believes in them.

“Fortune favours the brave.”

  ////

tagging a few of y’all!  @thisonesatellite​ @teamhook​ @kmomof4​ @superchocovian​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @thisonesatellite @darkcolinodonorgasm @carpedzem @hollyethecurious 

[twoidiotwriters1]

Pure Blood 3 (Sirius Black x F!Oc)

A/N: I am sorry that this chapter is so short, BUT something big is coming. And I also want to give a notice, as you already realized, I stink to update on Wednesday, so I can't promise to update one day, but if I can promise that I will update often, thanks for the support :))

Words: 1,484

Warnings: None!

Pt. 1 // Pt. 2 // Pt.3 // Pt.4

Percy POV:

After several days, the weekend finally arrived. I can’t believe my first week has been so stressful! And I’m aware that all this anxiety is inside me, outside everything is good: Classes were easy and our work was simple, the only difference was the warnings about our OWLS. All my friends got scared, but not me. It’s nothing I can’t handle.

All I usually care at school has been shadowed by the whirlwind of thoughts destroying my head and distracting me from my normal life. I tried to keep myself busy, so I finished all my schoolwork for the week and now I’m sitting here, under a tree in front of the lake with my legs tightly against my chest and my chin resting above them. My eyes fixed on the water.

I feel a knot in my throat and something stinging on my chest, each day grows uncontrollably, the memories from my past vacations coming back harsh as ever.

They were a family. They had done nothing wrong and I… I didn’t do anything to stop their terrible fate. Even though I had the chance.

Tears are pouring over my face, my father’s dark eyes chase me and his screams resonate in every single one of my nightmares.

My own family expects me to become a muggle murderer. Voldemort and all his followers are starting to grow and my parents are more than willing to participate but this family… they hadn’t done anything wrong. I could see the terror in their eyes… in the boy’s eyes.

I couldn’t do it.

The muggles are scared. Like us, they have jobs and families, they have… a destiny that has nothing to do with ours. What makes us different is magic, but they don’t know that. They don’t know we exist. Most of them, anyway.

Is it different with muggles parents? Being a half-blood, why am I supposed to hate them? Why are my parents so blind that they see muggles as enemies?

If a conflict arrives, we have resources, more than them. All magical, but, if they have none… Why do we have to hurt or kill them? Why do we hate them?

“I see you’re losing your time,” I jump slightly at the voice. Raising my head, I see my older sister Juno.

I let out a sigh and turn back to the lake.

“I don’t have anything else to do,” I see her sit next to me by the corner of my eye.

“Why the long face? Oh, don’t tell me you’re still crying about what happened back home,” I clench my teeth and she just chuckles, “I admit that at first it’s hard, and a little weird, won’t lie about that. But then you get used to it, you even enjoy it. Get rid of muggles and traitors…”

“And what if I don’t want to get used to it?”

“What?”

“I don’t want to,” I blurt out.

“Stop being a baby and face your fate, Persephone,” She replies passing a hand through her hair.

“You’re sounding like Dad,” I huff.

“And what’s wrong about that?” I close my eyes for a moment, and when I open them, I decide to face her.

“You’ve never wondered why do we all hate muggles so much?”

“Don’t start that,” She rolls her eyes, “just do what Dad says and-”

“Wait, you mean I just start to kill people and nothing else? Oh, right. Cause that’s so easy. How did I never think of that?”

“I knew you’d be the weakest. You know, for a moment I believed all your act, you could fool our family and I think even yourself by annoying all the muggleborns in our school, but just look at you while after seeing my dad in action, getting rid of a few scum. I guess your real you finally came out. I’ll wait to see what kind of punishment does my dad use on you once we get to your imminent treason.”

She gets up and starts to walk towards the castle, my anger only grows and I scream before I think it through.

“You know nothing, Juno!” She turns around.

“Oh, the princess wants to defend herself?” She mocks, but the smile vanished from her face in a matter of seconds, “Stop pretending and do the whole family a favor: Disappear.”

Her words sting. I can’t believe that my older sister has turned into a monster, the same girl that used to play with me, that gave me advice. That hugged me when Black abandoned me. The one that promised to look after me… now wants me gone.

“What have they done to you, you weren’t like this,” I whisper.

She gives me a devilish smile, but before she can answer, someone interrupts us.

“A fight between sisters? Interesting,” Says James Potter, we look in his direction to see he’s with Remus and Sirius.

“Talking about siblings, What did you do with mine, Singh? He looks like a lost puppy, looking everywhere for you,” Adds Sirius. I bite my lip, drowning in guilt.

“Since when do you care about him, Black?” I retort.

“Oh, please, little Reggie’s still part of the family, which means he’s related to me and… let’s say that it might affect my reputation with girls if he can’t stand being away from you for long periods of time.”

I’ve been evading Regulus all week, but if I’m honest, the last thing I need is Reg asking me how am I doing every five minutes, I have enough with Jenna, all worried about me. I know both of them have good intentions, but I can’t deal with it right now. I’ll talk to him… later.

“And what a reputation you have, Black. They know you with many names, Traitor for example,” Says Juno.

Sirius’ miles tenses slightly, his attitude changing.

“Sorry, but I only can talk with one crazy lady at a time”

Juno laughs.

“Always so funny, what’s the use of that? I guess your family must be so proud of you. You think I should write to your mother? You know, just so she knows everything you do in school.”

Sirius closes his fists and James seems to notice, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder and trying to calm him down.

“Alright, we better start to cool off,” Sirius brushes his hand away, James and Remus shared a worried look.

“And what if I talk to your Father, Juni?” My sister clenches her teeth at the nickname, Sirius used to tease her a lot with it when we were friends.

“They won’t believe you,” Both of them step closer.

“Oh, but daddy Ares doesn’t want any kind of rumors surrounding his daughter, right? But sure,” He chuckles, “you’re the least important Singh, I know that. I guess you’re right, maybe they won’t care at all”

“Sirius,” I gasp, the boy knows that’s a sensitive subject for my sister.

Juno glares at Sirius with all her anger and for a moment I think that she’ll take out her wand, but she just shakes her head.

“I don’t have time to argue with a child like you,” She scoffs, turning around and walking towards the castle.

“Juno,” I try to stop her, but the only thing I get from it is a harsh push that makes me fall flat on the ground. She doesn’t look back.

I ignore the pain on my elbows and back, standing up. I turn around towards the boys, standing in front of Sirius.

“Happy?”

“Actually yes, I am quite pleased,” He smirks.

“Well of course, cause now you’re taking advantage of the pain you cause on other people, right?” Once again, he seems angry.

“Don’t get things wrong, honey. I’m not a snake”

“You have all to be one though, just ask Severus.”

“He deserved that,” Says James, but we both ignore him.

“Now you defend him? Are you going to change my brother for Snivellus?” I pass a hand through my hand, exasperated.

“I can’t believe you! Why do you even care Who I date or don’t date? why are you waiting for me to make a mistake so you can shove it on my face?”

I step forward and he steps back, taken by surprise.

“What if I want to date Regulus? What if I don’t? Who do you think you are to criticize my every action?”

He stays silent and it’s then that I notice how loud I was talking. Luckily it’s just us but now I’m crying again. I step back a little, ashamed of my own outburst. I look down, biting my lower lip, shaking.

“Forget it. Just… forget this happened and leave me alone”

I run back to school without looking back, at this point, I just want to go back to my room and never leave my bed.

Taglist.

@treestarrrrrrrr  @siriuslysirius1107 @thagreenmoonblack  

@madmaiden2890​

[buckyownsmyheart]

Duty [3/12]

CHAPTER 3: A Small Error

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k, sorry a bit of a short one this week!

Warnings: Gunfire and badly described car chase

A/N: Please keep leaving feedback! I’m a slut for validation. Also the gif isn’t relevant but I love him. This is them at the end maybe, who knows

Series Summary: Ex-army doctor, and now on-mission-for-the-Avengers doctor, Major (Y/n) (Y/l/n), had prepared herself for anything. That was, of course, until she met a devastatingly charming Sergeant from Brooklyn with a quick wit and a kind smile. I wonder what will happen.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2

Within the first few months, you had settled in well to the compound. Wanda had been right when she said that everyone was like a family, and the bonds you formed between the team had been strengthened by the time you spend together, enduring situations that a normal person would never dream of being in on a day-to-day basis. In the first month, Sam had unsuccessfully tried to set you up with an agent, that had just led to an awkward dinner and a rescue mission from Bucky, stolen all 36 of your freshly baked cookies, with much disappointment from the others, and cried when you beat him at monopoly. You had set 13 broken bones, stitched 153 wounds and done one awkward STI test. Not naming names, but you advised that next time they go to someone else in the medical bay. Makes things a little less awkward for later missions. It had been one hell of a month

At the moment, you were trying to dictate some reports for the medical bay, as everyone’s medical records hadn’t been updated in years, and you always secretly loved a bit of admin. You wandered towards the living room in search of your favourite mug. As raised voices carried from inside, you paused, listening intently.

“I get the whole prospect and the whole idea is great, but don’t you think they should put an age limit on it? Like a minimum?” Bucky was asking Sam.

“Being trans isn’t a choice or a phase Barnes. You don’t grow out of it or indeed into it, so no I don’t think there should be minimum limit, it’s all about who the people are inside, what they feel,”

You entered the room and made your presence known with a small cough, Bucky turned to you, “What do you think Doc? You’re a professional, what’s your stance?”

Sam took a sharp inhale of breath. He had clearly read your file, even if Bucky hadn’t.

“I think that whilst you’re both enjoying yourselves debating the intricacies of this subject, you need to remember you’re debating someone’s life, their highs, their lows, and their inability to decide for themselves, because someone else has decided for them they don’t have the right to dictate their own life. People’s lives aren’t thought experiments or light debate topics.” you said calmly, and then turned and left the room without looking back, letting out a shaky breath as your emotions bubbled upwards. You heard Sam say something to Bucky, and then his gliding footsteps were behind you.

“(Y/n), I’m sorry I didn’t know about your brother,” he said quietly, and you turned to him,

“Don’t apologise because I have a trans brother, I want you to see that people are more than a story or two sides of an argument. I thought you would be able to empathise with that.”

“I’m sorry for my ignorance. Everything is so new; I’m trying to learn about this century, but I never meant to make you upset or offend you. You’re right, I should have known better, I know what it’s like to be talked about and debated about and it’s not right.” He tucked his hands into his pockets as he looked down at his feet.

You softened, “I understand Bucky, you grew up in a different generation entirely and you’re still getting used to this century, so I don’t hold it against you. But it would have been wrong of me to sit and listen when I can help change someone’s outlook.” You placed a hand on his arm, causing him to look up at you, and continued, “I appreciate you trying. Just be aware of dehumanising people because you don’t personally know them, or because it’s interesting to debate about.” He gave you a tight smile and looked back down at his feet. “Maybe you should read my file huh? Seems like it's getting you in trouble,” you jested, trying to lighten his mood.

“I know, I know, it just seemed a bit impersonal. I wanted to get to know you the old-fashioned way, by talking to you, you know?” He picked at the skin around his nails, “But maybe that’s me being stuck in the 40s. New century and all that.”

“You trying to court me Sarge?” You teased, and with that comment the light seemed to return to his eyes, illuminating his face into the one you had become quite fond of.

“Depends if you’d say yes, Doc.”

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see.” You turned, winking at him over your shoulder, and finished the short walk to the elevator.

F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice filled the elevator, as soon as you entered it. “Major (Y/l/n), Mr. Rogers requires your presence in the briefing room in 20 minutes.”

-

23 minutes later, the briefing had started. The extra 3 minutes were due to Sam being late by two minutes, and Steve ranting at him for one, before you cut in that it might be more productive to spend our time discussing the new development, and not reprimanding Sam for being unable to read a clock correctly. Steve gave a curt nod and continued.

“There has been word that HYDRA are shipping out the serum from the Philadelphia port tonight for Project Moonshine. They’re not expecting any trouble, and the team have had news that there will only be 4 guards stationed to oversee the packing. As everyone else is away on mission, we need you 3 to contain the serum and bring it back for testing. Once it's secure call in the NYPD for detainment of the fugitives there. All set? Wheels up in an hour. Do NOT be late.” He concluded sternly, glaring at Sam. You fidgeted, fighting the urge to ask more questions as you were still getting used to these quick introductions to the missions, but Bucky had helpfully pointed out they were called briefings, not so-long-when-will-it-endings.

You, Bucky and Sam had walked 2 miles from the drop-off point to try and get into the warehouse undetected. You had tried to bargain a closer drop-off, but apparently it was too suspicious already. You had been promised a ride back in a police car though, so swings and roundabouts. You all stalked alongside the side of the warehouse, Bucky in front, then Sam, and then you, bringing up the rear. Bucky’s hand went up in a fist, and you all stopped. You checked your trusty backpack was still firmly secured and gripped your rifle tighter. Giving Sam a tap on his shoulder to show you were ready, he relayed the message, and Bucky opened the door silently, easing himself in.

Gunfire cut across the previous tranquillity and you dove behind a metal crate and felt Sam’s body beside you. Bucky had done the same, hiding behind a crate across from you, firing over the top every now and again to try and keep them at bay. Well, shit.

You had no backup on this one, except for the NYPD but they wouldn’t come with enough personnel. You looked at Bucky and Sam, but they didn’t seem to know what to do either. You scanned the area, trying to figure out your next move when a dull ‘thwap’ next to you drew your attention. Sam beside you whispered, “What the fuck?” His left side was now covered entirely in white powder.

You reached over and touched it, rubbing it between your fingers, you spoke quietly, “This isn’t the serum Sam, this is cocaine.” You indicated the blue and green packages that surrounded you, “And there’s a lot of it. Something’s not right, we need to get out of here now, NYPD and SWAT can deal with this, there’s no way the three of us are going to be able to handle a drug bust this big.” You noticed a door behind Sam on the right wall, as the one you had entered through was too exposed. This one was more shielded by crates and loose packages of the cocaine. You were hoping that they didn’t want to shoot at their loot, and that might be your ticket out of here. You tapped Sam and pointed to it. He nodded and placed his hand on your arm.

“I���ve alerted NYPD, they said they'd be here in a few minutes, but we can’t guarantee that. I need you to run for that door and find us a car. Bucky and I will be right behind you. I promise.”

“On it.” You didn’t want to leave those two behind, but they were much more qualified than you, and were much more likely to be able to fight their way out of the sticky situation. With one last look at Bucky, and a nod at Sam, you ran.

The firing increased as you tried to keep as low as possible, and you were hoping that it was cover fire from Sam. Bullets were zipping around the place, but you couldn’t identify if they were near or far, heading towards you or away, so you just kept on running. You darted through the door and leant along the wall, trying to calm your heart. Now for part two. You looked around for a car and spotted one of the new Ford Mustangs. That would do nicely. Grabbing a rock and throwing it through the window, you unlocked the door and threw yourself inside, ignoring the broken glass. Underneath the steering wheel, the “On” wires were already stripped and hanging loose. Trust the drug dealers to be driving a stolen car. You placed them together and they sparked, the engine trying to ignite, but after a few goes and indecent mutterings, the engine roared to life and you swung it into gear, whirling it around to the door before shouting into the comms,

“I need both your asses outside, now!” Right on cue, Bucky and Sam burst through the door and ran around to the passenger’s side. They both threw themselves in the same door. In hindsight, you should have gone for a car with back doors.

“Major I need you to ignore all parts of your brain that drive like a grandma and drive as if there’s a car of armed drug dealers chasing after you.” Sam hesitated, looking behind you at the bad guys organising themselves, “Because there is.”

“Didn’t I ever tell you boys that I took a get-away driving class at flight school?”

“You went to flight school?” Bucky asked incredulously, “When were you going to mention THAT?”

“When it seemed necessary,” you shrugged, slamming the car into gear and speeding off, before adding, “Plus I’m the only one here with a legal license”.

You drove in-between the containers on the dockside, but things got too quiet. You slowed down, trying to listen for any sort of movement. The rev of an engine and the flicker of lights either side of you alerted you to their presence, and the stream of swear words that came out of your mouth were vulgar enough to make Gordon Ramsey proud. You stepped on the accelerator and prayed that they would crash into each other as they chased after you, but no such luck.

Ignoring the shots that were ricocheting off the side of the car, you stepped on it. The car’s suspension wasn’t quite as giving as you had hoped. The three of you were bouncing all over the place as you drove up the port’s ramp, Bucky smacking his head against the roof a couple of times. You made a mental note to check him for concussion later. Sam had managed to wiggle his way into the backseat and was shooting at the cars. If you weren’t in such a life-or-death situation, you might have laughed at the comical manner that he had braced himself. His back was resting in the gap between yours and Bucky’s seat, his feet were propped up on the headrest of the back seats, and his gun was resting in between them. The loud gunshots had made your ears ring, and you had to fixate on the roads to prevent yourself from colliding with anything. A crash sounded and the windscreen in front of you shattered,

“Bucky,” You shouted over the persisting resonance in your ear, “I’m going to need you to fix that, so I can see.” He reached forward and with his left hand, he grabbed the remaining windscreen, tossing it over the top of the car. There was a shout of joy from Sam as the front of the two cars swerved into a barrel and rolled, ending up somewhere you didn’t care about at this moment in time.

“Clench up, fellas,” you called out, seeing your opportunity at an escape, “It’s about to become a whole lot less smooth.”

Shoving the car into second gear, you pressed in the clutch and pulled the handbrake up, swinging the wheel around so you skidded down a road that had appeared on your right. As the car over rotated, you placed it in reverse and drifted into a back alley off the road you had turned into. As quickly as you could, you turned off the engine and all lights.

“What the-” Sam began, but you cut him off as the second car that had been following you careened around the corner, driving straight passed your hiding place.

“The police should have set up a blockage down there, that’s where I would have done it.” You explained, carefully pulling the car into the road and driving gently in the opposite direction. You potently ignored the bumper dragging along the floor at the front of the car. “Man, all that excitement has made me hungry, does anyone fancy a Maccies on the way home?”

It was safe to say the cashier was a little unnerved at the sight of you three.

Chapter 4

tags:

@broco8​ @nerd-without-a-cause​ @sebbbystaaan​ @cutiepiemimi13​ @velvetwonderbucky​ @mcubuckyandsteve