#I WILL NOW PROCEED TO SCREECH AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sassooda · 3 years ago

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Worlds Away JJK AU / Chapter 39 - Run

w/c - 7,590

**Warnings- This chapter is very violent.**

The waiter returns with replacement drinks and sets them down accordingly. He doesn’t stay long this time but he once again intensely stares at them all. Toji postures himself and rolls his shoulders back while unabashedly glaring him down. He’s sure the waiter can tell but his brown eyed gaze is now of Elska as he leaves. Toji grumbles, “He’s begging for an ass whooping doll, would you be upset if I delivered?”. She giggles out, “You are not allowed to hit him!”, and bumps him with her shoulder playfully.

Naoya cracks up from Toji’s words and adds, “I’ve felt your punch, you’ll fucking kill the guy!”. His deep laughter carries through the patio causing the young parents of the three kids to look over awkwardly and smile. Naoya nods and waves to offer the universal gesture that he wasn’t intending to be that loud. He looks over to Toji and Elska with a grin while lifting his glass into the air, “I just want to say that I’m grateful to be here with you two today.”. He brings his eyes to Toji, “I’ve always looked up to you and hoped that I could be that cool when I grew up…,” he chuckles with slight embarrassment, “…and I know things with all of us are, unique but I appreciate you having the room in your heart for me, it means a lot...”. Toji’s face experienced a quick wash of gentleness that Naoya was happy he saw, returning it without being shy. The Zenin now looks at Elska, “And you my princess…”, he sighs at her sweet eyes, “Thank you for showing me what it means to be cared for by a woman. Come what may, I will always be rich in all things with you by my side.”. He watches Elska sip her wine with watery eyes as he drinks his Mojito until the opportunity to kiss her arises. After he hums to the feeling of perfection, he pulls back and chuckles, “It’s so peaceful without Gojo around, isn’t it?”, he admits as Toji cackles and leans forward while setting his drink on the table.

Elska sips her wine and puts the glass down before wrapping her arms into both of theirs. “Thank you so much for bringing me out here today!”, she feels it’s impossible to address both of them at the same time so she scoots back, “You two bring so much happiness into my life, Sati too…”. She squeezes their arms, “I can’t imagine what life would be like without you.”. Her eyes now take to the kids as the youngest is waving at them in the awkward manner that a toddler would. “We’ve made a friend!”, she laughs as she waves back. ‘Could I be a mother? A good one?’, she asks herself as she watches Naoya interacting with the child, wearing a goofy face. ‘He would be a good father…I know he would.’, the idea creeps into her heart as she heavily considers giving him what he wants. Naoya leans back and says, “They’re reeeeally cute actually. It doesn’t help my baby fever whatsoever.”. Elska inhales sharply after a stark possibility blares into her brain, “I could already be pregnant and not even know it...”, her words sounded dreadful but only because she wouldn’t have the first fucking clue as to who the child would belong to. She didn’t want to say anything out loud but Toji was hot on her trail of thought.

“Any one of us could be the father!”, Toji’s eyes widen as he’s not even considered what a quandary that could turn out to be. He looks over at Naoya who’s left eye is twitching and feels defensive, “Boy don’t make that face, I never pull out.”. As soon as the words left his lips, he can feel the heated aura from Elska, “Doll, I have no idea why I just said that...”, but is relieved to find he’s not in the doghouse after she says, “I’m going to pretend that didn’t happen!” with a squinted expression.

“You dirty old bastard!”, Naoya does not like the idea of anyone else knocking her up. “You’re not supposed…she’s a princess!”, and looks at Elska with a furrowed brow. She seems pretty uncomfortable and he assumes it’s because of his reaction so he feels bad. He huffs, “Well I don’t either!”. Elska can be heard humming like she’s thinking of a punishment but his mind takes to the night of him, Gojo and Elska. He recalls something he feels is important and darts his eyes to Toji with a devious grin, “But Gojo does.”.

“Naoya…I’m about to take your drink away again!”, she buries her face into her hands as she tries to not feel grossed out by herself. Naoya pulls her hands away and turns her in his direction, “Baby! Like I said before…we’re unique!”, and brings his drink within his guard. She feels his lips against her own and somehow the simple action instantly comforts her. ‘We’re all degenerates…’. She leans back into her seat after they break away and looks up to the sky. Thinking of a great comeback she smirks and flippantly says, “Maybe Choso’s the daddy.”. She laughs when Naoya gasps with anxiety but is surprised by how Toji saw right through her.

“Baby? Are you messing with me right now?”, he knows she’s laughing but is honestly afraid of that thought after the lack of clarification with what happened between her and the being. “Tell me you’re just kidding!”, he leans up and pokes at her sides until she admits that it was just a bad joke. Once he’s satisfied and reassured, he sits back again and threatens, “That deserves a spanking...”, and bites his lip as he envisions it. He looks to Toji, “How were you able to be so calm?!”, but pouts when Toji shrugs and says, “I just know better.”, and Naoya now feels silly for getting worked up. “That’s two spankings now since my pride is hurt as well!”. He giggles with her as she doesn’t seem to protest against the idea. ‘Just you wait, Elska!’, he’s now planning to give them to her tonight.

The waiter approaches them again, still eyeing Toji. “Ugh…not again…”, Toji feels the man staring at him and wants to avoid having to directly deal with him but the brown eyed fellow walks over to Toji’s side. He gives Elska and Naoya a loathing look as he warns of his tolerance being low. The waiter says, “I’ll explain the menu since you’re unfamiliar with the language.”, but his tone was different. Toji abruptly states, “I’ll take anything chicken.”, and starts to feel aggressive as the waiter remains. The man leans down and places a hand on Toji’s shoulder and the moment it makes contact, Toji feels a surge of pain shoot through his arm and bellows out an inhuman screech. Naoya stands up immediately and asks what’s wrong but Toji’s unable to respond.

Naoya looks at the waiter, “What the fuck did you do? WHO ARE YOU?!”, and then back at Toji who has doubled over, heaving in pain as his presence darkens. “Baby, get up…GET UP NOW!”, He grabs Elska and moves her away while glaring at the waiter who arrogantly standing by the giant. The man laughs wildly and says, “This is for Master Kokoro…”. The waiter goes to lower his hand back onto his shoulder but Toji snatches it, crushes his wrist and cries out as his wings start to form. “Oh fuck…”. The Zenin man yells to the other tables, “GET OUT OF HERE NOW!”. Naoya steps back with Elska tightly in his grasp and worries about everyone around them. All of the people sitting outside have now tuned in and are watching in horror as the skin of Toji’s back stretches to form the bones and feathers…but they do not move.

“TOJI DON’T!”, Elska breaks away from Naoya to run to her beloved but before she can reach him, Toji yanks the waiter down by the wrist and proceeds to send energy at the man’s torso, hollowing him out completely. The body remains standing for what seemed like forever as Elska views the beautiful river through him until he collapses. Screams erupt chaotically as terrified people try to flee but Elska’s only focus was on Toji, who seems to be falling progressively deeper into this dark energized way. “TOJI!”, she cries out to him again but feels Naoya securing her. The children can be heard squealing in tears at the top of their lungs as their parents struggle to function well enough to gather the kids. “Why…This is…?! Naoya!”, she’s already crying as he takes hold of her. The clamor of fear booming around them was almost too much all together but it abruptly silences as a warm liquid sprays her and Naoya. In what seemed like slow motion, the entire family and table was crushed into the pavement, leaving nothing but a compressed pile of bones and flesh where their beautiful faces used to be. She can’t move. She can’t avert her eyes. She can only watch in absolute horror.

“Oh my God…”, Naoya is also left otherwise speechless and mortified as the high chairs can still be made out due to their green color, amongst the mounds of human tissue. He calls out to Elska who is back in his arms but she’s unresponsive and hysterical. Toji flies past them and Naoya screams when he watches his cousin shred through a businessman before turning to one of the middle-aged women, tearing her arms off simultaneously. The woman screams but soon falls into shock and seizes on the ground. “TOJI!!”, Naoya finds himself crying too, shaking while Toji uses his strength to literally rip through the innocent humans. “Holy fuck…he’s going to kill them all!”, his cries are muffled as he dips his face into Elska’s hair, not knowing how to react. He needs to stop his cousin but understanding that this is an attack, he doesn’t want to leave Elska alone. “Baby… What do I do?!”, he sobs with her. The others that were outside with them are unable to open the door to the building for some reason and he perceives another of the businessmen try to make a break for the water. Naoya screams again as he helplessly watches Toji tackle him and tear the man’s neck from his shoulders. Toji now turns around eerily and targets him while the remaining survivors cower and mentally decompose. With wide eyes, Naoya picks Elska up and activates his projection technique. He feels so heavy when he engages it and can’t understand why Toji is getting closer as he exerts his full force into the speed. ‘It’s not working!’, the weight of the dread hindering his usual decisiveness brings him to a new low as he surmounts the worse of outcomes. He holds Elska tighter and says through his cries, “Baby, you have to run. I need you to run.”. He’s not sure if he’s going to make it out of this but knows it will be worth it as long as she escapes. His heart breaks while he lowers her down fearing that this will be the last time they’ll see each other. He shouts with urgency as tears stream down his face, “RUN ELSKA!”.

She’s aware that she’s being placed back on her feet but feels so cold without Naoya’s body heat. “The children…”, she’s still in shock. Upon looking around she notices the other bodies, at least 2 overlapping each other near the door leading inside. She stands there, dazed and numb until the restaurant and all neighboring buildings explode. The powerful shock wave sends her flying towards the water as she feels a blunt object hit her side accompanied by internal cracking. Moments pass as she lies there incoherent as multiple smaller explosions erupt from the establishments around them. Her ears are ringing loudly. She tries to push herself off of the ground but her equilibrium is shot so she falls over to her right side. Her eyes are struggling to focus but when they do, she sees that the object that likely cracked her ribs is some poor man’s mangled leg. She can’t make out her own voice but she cries for Naoya and shuts her eyes to the fear that him and Toji were caught in the blast. Her own bloodcurdling sounds now make way to her ears, finding she doesn’t recognize her own voice. Only when she can feel her body being jostled around do her eyes unfasten.

Naoya was thrown into a table near the edge of the patio. He feels the burns lacing up his body as he stumbles over to Elska. She’s covered in cuts from the glass and can tell she’s not breathing normally but is alive. ‘BABY!”, he scoops her up into his arms but they fall backward since he’s yet to fully regain his senses. He sits up and tries again while looking around and witnesses the gore and destruction. His breath is hitched in his throat as he sees the dismembered pieces of people all around them, some bits floating in the water nearby. He’s crying again as he struggles to his feet with her, “Baby, we have to run!”, is all he can say as his eyes finally spot the wings. “TOJI!”, he wails as he sees the charred feathers, it looking like he suffered burns as well. He finally is able to stand up and releases more tears when he sees Toji stirring. “Thank fucking God…”. He checks around for other survivors but is unable to make out anything amongst the body parts and debris. To his left a table is crushed right before his eyes, leaving a depression into the concrete. ‘Getou’. His eyes widen when he hears Toji release another wild call. “Baby…”, he shakes Elska, trying to get her to respond. “BABY YOU HAVE TO SNAP OUT OF IT!”, and panics as Toji growls and picks up speed towards them. “SHIT!”, he places Elska back down, straining from his melted skin and whispers in tears, “I love you Elska, forever.”, before charging the best he could towards Toji.

She heard him. His voice itself guided her out of her own mind and back to the disaster that’s before them. She fully comes to when she sees Naoya and Toji exchanging energy. Upon trying to stand, she sways but doesn’t fall and has yet to realize all of her wounds as the adrenaline kicks in. She screams feverishly at the two men to stop but is forced to watch them struggle against each other, Toji having the upper hand as he seems to have lost his usual reservation. “NAOYA!”. The scene around her is completely disturbing as the heat from the flaming buildings add to the smell of over-cooked flesh. She starts running towards Naoya and Toji but an unfamiliar voice calls out to her so she turns around to see where it came from.

“Elska Oda!”, Genghis hollers out as Getou and the other Titers now manifest into view. Genghis is especially thrilled by the scene and claps his hands together in praise to Toji’s handiwork. “He has surpassed my expectations greatly!”, He nudges Getou joyously as his pupil studies Elska. He as well takes in how bloodied Elska is and wishes that she wouldn’t have been harmed in the process.

When she sees Getou, Elska completely snaps. “YOU FUCKING DID THIS?!”, and forms her metal wings instantly. “I am going to fucking tear you APAAAART!”, she growls before trying to charge him blindly. She’s consumed with rage as she thinks about the children, the unsuspecting innocents and Toji and Naoya. “FUCKING COWARD!”, she screams at him and is almost taken back by how remorseful his expression is.

Lidia was hoping this would happen. “Winged bitch.”, she mutters while drawing her arm back, aiming her spear. ‘I knew she wasn’t right for Master Suguru…’. She notices Toji become aware of her actions and gets freaked out, so she hurls the weapon towards Elska before he can get any closer. Naoya can be seen trying to run towards Elska. To her dismay, she hears Getou scream for her to stop but it had already left her hands. She turns to him, “She’s trying to kill you Master Suguru!”, and feels her heart stop as he finally looks at her but with absolute abhorrence and wrath. She watches Getou try to stop the spear with gravity but he’s unable to.

Elska was so furious that she didn’t even think about how utterly moronic attacking head on would be. The spear is heading straight for her, leaving no time to react as she simply failed to notice it because of her focus on Getou. Knowing that she’s about to be impaled only fuels her more though as she can’t let this opportunity go to waste. Right before what she assumed were possibly her last moments, she briefly closes her eyes and tries to remember all the good she’s experienced up until this point. The laughs and love she’s received and shared with Satoru, Toji, Naoya and everyone else flood her as she’s so desperate to live but is willing to throw it all away for their safety. ‘I have to kill him.’. The end never comes but her soul leaves her body along with all of her sensibilities.

Naoya staggers in front of her. He was able to use his projection at least this time but the look on her face shatters his heart as he follows her eyes down to see the spear’s large tip sticking out of his sternum. “B…Bab…y…”, he feels the world spinning around him as he falls, no longer having the ability to remain on his feet. He hears Elska shriek and feels her warmth but he can’t focus his eyes or make them stay open. “Bab…y…” is all he can manage to articulate. ‘I made it...’, soothes his mind as blood pours from his smiling mouth.

Toji dashes past them towards the Titers and manages to kill one upon contact. Elska heard the short-lived cries but finds solace in it as she attempts to catch Naoya. They both fall to the ground and the spear tip punctures her hip. She frantically tries to lay him on his side in a specific manner and sobs as she brushes the hair away from his eyes. Using her wings, she slices open her wrist and holds Naoya’s mouth open to force her blood into him but her arm is shaking so violently that it’s causing her essence to get all over his face and neck. “FUCK! NAOYA!”, she yells through her tears as she’s desperate to save him. “My prince…please…you can’t…”, she heaves in shuddering breaths, “You can’t leave me!”. She attempts to take a deep breath but there’s no calming down, he’s barely taking the blood even when some lands into his mouth. “Naoya…please…no…”. She’s met with a choice but before she can decide for herself the ancestral guide within barrels through her.

“TURN HIM.”

She absolves all of her previous restraint on the matter and doesn’t hesitate. After repositioning and somewhat side straddling Naoya, she turns around to see all of the Titers fending off Toji except two. Getou and a shorter but older man are both watching her but with different expressions. Getou looks mystified, probably not understanding because he thinks Naoya is already dead. The other man, next to him, appears to be brimming with anticipation. She says nothing to them as she places her left hand over Naoya’s heart, becoming submerged with relief as it still beats, albeit faintly but then it stops. She screams his name while her world disintegrates.

“SAVE HIM!”.

When she feels the surge of ancient energy course in her veins, she leans down into her prince’s neck and whispers, “I love you Naoya. Please…stay here with me.”. She licks the targeted area and pierces him immediately afterwards.

Toji is taken out of his hypnotic ferocity when he feels Elska’s energy shift. His eyes come clear as he’s surrounded by five Titers. “ELSKA!” He can’t see her initially and panics as his recent actions immobilize his mind. ‘I…killed…I did that?’. Through his own eyes he saw everything but was unable to stop. The complete devastation that was caused by the explosion rocks him again and his frustration with everything happening reaches its peak. He releases a wave of energy that sends all of the Titer’s flying backwards with superficial injuries but can finally can see her. He drops to his knees when he takes in the spear that’s lodged through Naoya and strains into a cry that has no sound. He now understands what Elska is doing and although he’s always hated the idea, he’s not ready to say goodbye to his younger cousin so he finds himself hoping with every cell he’s made from that she’s successful. He hurriedly crawls over to them, becoming more distressed as the details of Naoya’s condition are more apparent. Violet energy travels over Naoya’s body and he jolts like she’s shocking his heart but is otherwise completely still and pale aside from his burns. He hears her moan as she drinks and sees the tears running down her face. Her presence darkens immediately and he holds his breath as he waits worriedly to gauge her. When Elska lifts her head from Naoya’s neck, Toji finds himself overcome with a foreign emotion. Her eyes glow bright purple still but the green dashes are clearly visible and for the first time ever, Toji’s welcoming this. He darts his eyes down to Naoya and notices he’s breathing, “Boy don’t scare me like that ever again…”, and bends down to wrap his arms around Naoya’s head as he was frightened that Naoya wouldn’t have been sustainable in that state. He goes to pick Naoya up but Elska stops him and says in the lowly voice, “He’s safer on the ground, as are you, my beloved.”. Her expression doesn’t feign any emotion but she grips the handle of the spear hanging out of his back and splinters it with ease but holds onto it. With wild eyes she looks down at Naoya, brushing the hair from his face and seethes, “If this doesn’t work, I will enslave and destroy this entire world.”. She now calmly stands up and turns around to head in the direction of the Titers. “My beloved, protect him.”.

Genghis just fell in love. As the true Elska walks towards them he finds himself in complete awe to her presence and mannerisms. “Even covered in blood…”, he sighs and notes how lucky Suguru is. He leans over to his pupil who has become shaken by her switch, “I think we just witnessed Zenin’s rebirth!”. Getou turns to him with an angry face and asks, “How the fuck is any of this good?!”. Suguru wears the expression of a man who has been betrayed but Genghis brushes it off and chalks it up to shock. Seeing that Suguru was not mentally up to the task right now, Genghis smirks and raises his hands high in the air as he takes two steps towards Elska, gesturing that he would like to engage in conversation. In a composed and submissive tone, he tells her, “Miss Oda, there’s something I must do for you.”.

Getou finds himself disgusted by how the plan was enacted. When he engaged his gravity to crush the tables, he didn’t realize there were children present. It reminds him of Kechi all over again and his rage slowly becomes directed towards his mentor. He’s unnerved by how happy Genghis is and finally puts more weight into the idea that something is wrong with him. Watching Elska approach them with the frayed spear handle, he feels the absolute urge to defend her as he no longer knows what to expect but understands this whole situation has only fueled her hatred for him. ‘She thinks this was my idea…’, he glares over at Lidia and desires to smash her into the concrete beneath them as her actions were severely out of line. Elska’s desperation over Naoya wrecked his cold demeanor as the sheer sounds of her breaking in front of him were not as sweet as he once imagined. He doesn’t know why he’s feeling these things but he comprehends that somewhere along the way, he stopped hating her and begins to question if he ever really did to begin with.

Elska stops out of curiosity. It makes no difference to her but she’s intrigued by the Titer Man’s lack of fear. “Proceed.”, is all she says. She becomes more entertained by him when he grabs the red headed girl who threw the spear and brings her back to where he was standing. He announces, “My name is Temujin Genghis, I lead the Titer clan and I am hoping we can be friends. This is Lidia…”, Elska smirks with approval as Genghis jerks her head around by her curly long locks, “…When she attacked you, that was of her own accord. I have never carried any intentions of causing you harm, I admire you deeply.”. Elska can’t help but acknowledge that every word said seems to be truthful although she’s still not moved. She walks up coolly as Lidia struggles, trying to explain her side of the story. Elska sends her glowing red eyes at Genghis who pleasurably shivers into a smile before she turns her attention to the girl and wrenches her grip around her face. In the same lowly and demanding tone she says, “You…you misjudged your situation and threw that spear into my prince.”. Elska notices that the words sting Getou but he seems unphased by the girl being in peril. ‘I see.’. Elska brings her hand into the Lidia’s hair, yanks her head to the side and exposes her fangs. Getou’s eyes shoot open and she keeps her glowing gaze on him and she bites down into the girl’s neck, causing Lidia to moan loudly from the sensation.

Getou can’t take his eyes from Elska as she drinks. He’s so perplexed by Lidia’s reaction as she continues to moan and whimper and wonders why that would be happening. ‘Does it feel good?’, he asks internally but his question is answered as he recalls how territorial Naoya was about her feeding. His lips part as the realization hits him fully and he whispers, “The missing piece of the puzzle…”. Elska flashes him an evil smirk after lifting her head back up as if to help sanction his uncertainties. Suguru is feeling like she’s making a show out of biting Lidia for him alone and is severely confused by her actions.

Lidia has no idea what that was but as the sensation fades, she’s still gasping whimpers. She feels Genghis tug on her hair again and can feel that he’s forming an erection as its pressed against her from his hold. Through her eyelashes she sees Elska glaring into her with superiority but is now noticing that her neck is still bleeding. ‘What…was that?’, she wishes she could see Suguru but instead her eyes take to Toji. His bore holes into her as he bears his fangs maliciously from afar.

Elska wipes her mouth, bringing her concentration back on Lidia and continues, “It’s such a shame…all of this natural beauty is wasted on such a stupid woman.”. Elska was able to decipher the girl with ease and if she could feel anything, it would be pity for the distressed damsel. Elska speaks to Getou while lifting the spear handle up, “This woman is in love with you and she threw the spear to be rid of her biggest obstacle.”. She grabs Lidia’s face again and smiles maniacally, “Me.”. When she tightens her grip, she hears Genghis’s heart start to race and thinks of how strange of a human he is for being so turned on. Looking back to Lidia she says, “Your entire life has been pointless but today you gave me my prince. I would thank you if you were worth it…”. Elska now watches the horror blanket Lidia’s expression as she brings her arm back. “…But you’re not.”, and aggressively flails her wings and laughs as the girl flinches and wails with regret. “Since you don’t use them well…”, she steps aside so Naoya can be in the girl’s view, “…I don’t see why you should be burdened with these anymore.”. She quickly jabs the jagged handle into both of Lidia’s eyes with precision. She closes her own and inhales satisfyingly as the screams erupt through the air and opens them to smile at the leaking vitreous fluid running down Lidia’s reddened face as she panics to being brutally blinded. Elska thinks about Naoya again and finds that was not enough so she takes the handle and violently shoves it downwards into Lidia’s throat, penetrating it through the back of her neck. The woman still lives but is clearly distraught by the mutilation and struggles to breathe. Elska hisses, “Stupid woman.”, but then takes a few steps back while scowling at the pathetic redhead.

Toji stands up now, ‘Master…’. He can’t believe what he just saw but is enthralled by the revenge. He knows this isn’t his Elska but is reassured that her in this form was extremely beneficial. He wonders though, ‘Why is she toying with them?’. He looks down at his cousin with heartache until he notices, ‘He stopped bleeding!’, but is still worried as he hasn’t figured out how they’re going to remove the giant spear. Naoya starts violently seizing so he cries out, “ELSKA!”, and looks to her, being completely confused by the smile along her lips. He remains by Naoya’s side, trying to steady him because of the spear. Tears well in his eyes as Naoya flops next to him but he hears Elska’s voice in his mind, “Don’t fret my beloved, that means it’s working...”. His head snaps up in amazement as her eyes meet his. He thinks, ‘Did I just imagine that?’, but jumps when he hears her again, “No you did not. We are able to communicate like this.”. Instantly, he’s brought back to the day he fed from his cousin and how he swore he could sense and hear her screams, becoming marveled. He listens to Lidia’s gurgled broken shrieks of terror but finds they don’t bother him one bit. Naoya settles back into the ground which causes Elska to whip her head in his direction with a hint of disbelief on her face. Toji becomes startled again as he looks back down to Naoya but he hears her, “His transformation is rather rapid…”. Regaining his hope after being fed this knowledge, he unintentionally lets out a grateful sob. He looks to Elska and thinks, ‘Tell me when.’. Toji knew from the moment he saw the green dashes that she was going to hopelessly decimate them. This Elska holds such immense power and was completely ruthless, being the exact and only reason he happy to see her switch.

Genghis is smitten by this version of Elska and is enthusiastic about demonstrating this fact to her. He pushes Lidia to the ground, lodging the handle deeper through her flesh and places a foot on her back before saying, “Miss Oda, I would be more than pleased if you would accept this act as a token of Master Suguru’s and my own affection.”. He leans down to grab Lidia’s red curls again while she struggles in absolute fear and pins her underneath his left foot. She screams, “Master Suguru!”, or it at least sounded like that could be it but Genghis takes his right leg from ground and bends his knee, balancing on her spine while pulling back on her head. He sighs breathlessly when Elska grins to the obvious pain Lidia is experiencing and although he would like to relish this moment, he kicks his right leg out. He can feel the trauma to her cervical vertebrae vibrate through her bones the moment she finally silences. He takes notice to how the handle was launched back out her mouth as it now lays, bloodied in front of them. ‘Godddd it feels so good to finally be able to do that…’, he speaks internally as he releases her hair, allowing her head and body to bounce off of the ground and straightens his posture.

Getou stands in complete disbelief, ‘That’s what he meant by Lidia’s purpose?!’. He’s not upset by her death but he finds himself in complete incredulity from listening to how his mentor behaves around this Elska. He thinks about how spearing Naoya was the wrong route to take now as he can sense the darkness and hostility still seeping from her. Suguru can tell how strong she is by her presence and finally understands why Genghis has been so adamant about her cooperation. ‘Would I be able to overpower her?’, he’s convinced that he isn’t capable and wonders how his mentor can seem so calm in this situation. ‘Does he want her for himself?’, Suguru doesn’t actually believe that but wonders where this strange fascination for her came from. He looks back over to Elska who stands stoically as her smile fades back to that resting ominous expression. He feels like he’s supposed to say something when she looks at him. The cold chill that runs down his back compels him to bow to her, “Elska, I apologize for hurting you in the past.”, but finds that somewhere in him, he actually meant it. He slowly brings his body back upright and feels his tension skyrocket as she near him.

Elska stands before Getou and raises her hand to his face. He flinches which causes her to grin and can see the look of uncertainty in Genghis’s expression. She quickly snatches Suguru’s hair and pulls him down to his knees, being enticed by his lack of resistance. He remains studying her but she can see his apprehension and enjoys causing him such muddle. She now grabs both sides of face and lowers hers down to hover over it. Toji’s presence can be felt magnetizing but thinks to him “I need more energy.”, but he doesn’t respond. She quietly speaks in her lowly tone to Suguru, “You would be suitable if you had you own thoughts…”, and gently kisses the scar on his cheek. He gasps with bewilderment as she thinks to give herself a little more time in this form. She whispers seductively, “I’m going to provide evidence for your suspicions…”, and sinks her fangs into him.

Suguru is stunned immediately as he feels the bliss circulate through him. It takes him a moment to realize that he’s moaning deeply and has even since placed his hands on Elska, holding her as she draws from him. His moans turn into whimpers as he clings to her waist and thigh all while not understanding how this feeling could be possible. He shuts his eyes as he feels his body give and fall to the side but she drops down with him in order to not break their connection. Titers start rushing towards him aggressively but hears Genghis say, “Do not interfere!”, with full authority. What his ears pick up now cause his eyes to roll back as Elska moans into his neck. He feels her presence surge back up but it lowers a little each time until she swallows. He now finds that the hand not supporting his weight is now wrapped in her hair and loosens his grip so that can be gentle. When she’s done, she closes his wounds and whines lowly, “You need more time but you could be worthy.”. Their eyes meet and she continues in a much colder tone, “Be weary of how you approach me in the future…and don’t you dare come after my lovers again.”, as he can see she’s lethally serious.

Genghis helps Suguru to his feet, trying to provide the balance for them both after Elska walks back to Toji. He struggles to steady his swaying pupil and can’t believe that she actually bit him right then and there. Getou is still heavily breathing with wide eyes that are fixated on her. He whispers, “That was incredible…”, and finds that Getou’s expression is now that of someone who longs for the other. He calls out sheepishly, “Th-Thank you for not harming him.”, and shifts their stance as Getou seems to be finding composure.

Elska is so amused by these two. She has a much better understanding of Getou now that she experienced his taste. “Delicious.”, she states as she licks her fangs. Toji huffs out of spite and glares at her but she quickly whispers, “The hybrid isn’t here so that was necessary…”, noting that he doesn’t seem ok with is still. With all eyes on them, she turns to Toji and slowly pulls his head down towards her, giving the soft command, “Kiss me, my beloved.”. Toji’s eyes glow and his wings flutter even with the indecision plaguing his features. When their lips meet, she moans wholeheartedly as she found her turned’s touch to be completely intoxicating. His hesitancy remains although he’s kissing her back but she’s satisfied enough that he obeyed. She feels a weak signal from Naoya, and it steals her attention. He’s not gotten any worse but his energy is already changing. An emotion creeps into her dark heart and it aches as she remembers the actual love she harbors for her prince and Toji both. “I’m going to tend to you two right now.”, she whispers to Toji and nips his bottom lip. Elska knows for a fact that the Titers have more up their sleeve and wishes to draw a curtain on this charade for the sake of her lovers. She locks her lips to Toji’s once more, addicted to the way he feels. After their extended meeting, Elska turns her head to observe the two men’s reaction and laughs when they’re exactly what she predicted. Genghis watches with an endearing envy as Getou’s eyes express heartache. She looks over at the other Titers that are grouped together, on edge. “They will suffice.”. They’re all cowering to her but remain in a defensive stance, one of the men bears beautiful grey eyes but they’re trained on to Lidia’s body. She smirks and kisses Toji again but this time places her right hand flat against her chest and holds it there as her red lightning surrounds them. While experiencing Toji’s tongue, she extends her arm in the direction of the huddled Titers, bends her fingers and unleashes it. The red light travels so fast that three of the four Titers are unable to evade it, their bodies torn through by the energy while being crystalized at the same time. Genghis gasps in confusion as he seemed to think things were going his way. Blood pumps out of Elska’s wings into a pattern of symbols that surrounds her and Toji and then the markings glow. Toji ‘s eyes respond along with hers as his widen, remembering that same blood design around her in the park. She thinks to him, ‘I take life from death.’, and smiles to his wide-eyed nod. What’s left of the Titers bodies breaks down into a red powder, swirls into a vortex in the air and then travels gracefully over to Toji and Elska. The Titer dust blankets around their wounds and fuses with the exposed tissue, healing them both. She waves her hand to direct the remnants and sends it towards Naoya. As the glass shards push out of her body, she watches Toji’s burns become nonexistent and hums with gratification. Naoya’s presence increases as he’s rapidly healed, his burns disappearing as well. His wavelengths tell her he’s still in pain, even when unconscious but she knows it due to his body now rejecting the spear. “That should do it.”. She nudges her beloved to show him and listens to him exhale relief. “He’s taking to the change extremely well.”, she says to Toji confidently, hiding her bafflement of the rate in which the DNA synthesis is working. Her being in true form was surely going to speed up the process but he shouldn’t have such an intense aura already. She runs her hand down Toji’s chest while still studying Naoya, “He is going to be strong.”, and contemplates on his perfection, “Just like you.”.

Genghis retracts his smile as soon as he realizes his fellow clansmen are no more and that things are not going as planned. ‘WHY WOULD SHE DO THAT?!’. He turns to Getou who’s mirroring his wide eyes but doesn’t know how handle this right away. Not once in any of the futures he seen has this happened. He was aware of the possibility of alteration but this goes far beyond anything he prepared for. “Something’s wrong.”, he panics, “We won’t be able to take her.”, is all he can say as he thinks of what to do next. Sain appears by them as he was the one Titer that escaped her lightning and Genghis sighs being overjoyed that he at least survived.

Getou is so astonished by what he witnessed and says, “We need to run.”. He’s still figuring out his new emotions but doesn’t mistake for a second that she won’t kill them too. He thinks of all of the times her importance has been reiterated to him and it finally makes sense. Suguru fails to see how he would be able to control her though and also now understands why Genghis has been pushing him to face his feelings about her. Now he has. The convergence of puzzle pieces lock together to form the bigger picture but he fears that he’s even further away from their goal of her affections as he gathers they’ve royally pissed her off with their actions. His mentor doesn’t seem as eager to flee and Suguru’s had about enough of his twisted games. He grabs Genghis in a panic, “WE NEED TO RUN!”.

Genghis understands Getou’s reaction but turns to Sain, “I have the most daunting task for you but if you can achieve it, the rewards will be endless…”, and passes him a syringe filled with sedative. This will shift all of their plans but he knows there’s really not another choice left at this point. He may even be foolish for attempting this. He brings stern eyes to Getou and whispers, “We need leverage first.”.

Elska watches the third Titer disappear into thin air and becomes aggravated by their inability to take her seriously. Her collected demeanor fades momentarily when she senses him behind them, near Naoya. She bears her fangs and roars as she launches herself towards the man while he bends down over him. She salivates at the idea of ripping his throat out but before she can reach him, he disappears again. She ends up having to use her wings to slow her speed so she can lean over Naoya to make sure he’s not been harmed further. The emotions that usually flow through her begin to resurface as she becomes weary for his safety while searching his body, noticing the spear has almost worked its way out. She sighs gratefully, “My prince…” and feels the love for him melt away at her ability to maintain her form so she steps away, ‘There’s still more to do first.’. She hears Genghis yell, “We will be in contact!”, but quickly snaps her head when she hears Toji struggling. Getou can be heard screaming, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”, and before she knew it, she was racing against time trying to reach her beloved that has fallen limp in the third Titer’s hold with a needle sticking out of his arm. She howls in anguish when her finger tips grasp at nothing, revealing the stark fact that she was too late. They took Toji with them. She doesn’t even breathe as her failure boils through. Looking up to the sky she cries out the demonic like sound while her energy releases a tremoring wave that further devastates the structures that remain around her. When the wave travels into the restaurant, it fans in oxygen, further feeding the flames and she can’t help but think the heat has nothing on rage inside of her. She continues to send out wave after wave until the building begins to crumble and she remembers that she still has Naoya who is defenseless. “My beloved…”, she whimpers under her breath as her presence begins to fade knowing that her time in this state is up, feeling heavy. She walks over to where Naoya lays and drops to her knees beside him. Tears fall from her face as she takes his hand and asks, “What do I do?”. Feeling hopeless and exhausted, she lays down next to him and curls up near his chest while his unconscious body faces her. “I lost Toji…”. After a few minutes of sobbing into Naoya she feels her awareness fading and clings to him desperately. She hears her name being screamed following by her body being lifted off of the ground and against someone’s warmth. The last thing she sees before completely passing out is Satoru’s teary eyes.

“ELSKA!”, his voice is distant as her limbs relax, not having any strength left.

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howdywrites · 4 years ago

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Chapter Zero

→ an In The Woods Somewhere excerpt

This is from my zero draft of ITWS that won't be in the new draft I'm starting for Camp NaNo. I still thought it would be fun to share since it gives a little insight into Jackie (park ranger main) and a side character named Benny who works under her. NOTE: there is a lot of info in this that's changed as I've outlined so some of the locations will be inaccurate.

Warnings: brief mention of recreational drug use (mushrooms)

Length: 2.3k words

[ WIP Intro ]

Breath burned aching lungs. Boots stomped in slick, dark mud. The icy mist clung to every hair on bare skin and the drumming of heartbeat became the rhythm in which Jackie fell in time with. She jerked, ducking beneath a low hanging branch. Her hair whipped as she cast a worried glance over her shoulder. It wasn’t following her anymore.

A disgruntled skunk and her litter of kits watched her sprint from the home they made in a thicket of bushes. If she had stuck around for just a second longer, Jackie would have paid dearly for her grave mistake. Up on [the mountain], there wasn’t a proper shower to be had at the lookout. In fact, there was almost no running water to be had at all. That’s exactly how she preferred it - being one with nature in every sense of the word.

“Fuck-” A patch of thick mud sent her sliding into the wooden Trail 46 sign that pointed southeast. Jackie held on to it, leaning over with her chest heaving while she caught her breath. A spring of curled hair fell over her forehead from under the brim of her uniform hat. Taking one last deep breath, she swept it back under and ran her hands along her two thick braids to make sure her rubber bands were still attached to the ends.

Static crackled from the radio on her hip. A voice snickered at her from the other end.

“I didn’t know you could run that fast,” the voice teased her, his laughter turning into crackles. Jackie lifted her head and dragged her eyes along the ridge behind her. Ancient trees and wild brush lined the rocky ledge. She squinted, trying to make sense of the map of greens and browns. Despite her year of working in Wyoming, she struggled making out shapes in the woods that weren’t blocky signs. “Surprised you didn’t lose your hat.”

Jackie unhooked her radio and held it up to her mouth. It trilled and went quiet. “Where are you? I swear to god, Benny, if you scare me again you owe me a cone at Marie Bettie’s on Monday.”

She stood there, a hand on her hip and her radio up by her ear. A crease formed between her brows. Birds flit from tree to tree down Trail 42, drawing her eye. Frowning, she didn’t see Benny there. Nor did he respond on the radio. She hesitantly clicked it again. “Benny I’m not playing. Where the hell are you?” She couldn’t hear herself on the other end. Wherever he was hiding, he had turned off his radio so she couldn’t gauge where he was.

Stepping out into the middle of the trail, Jackie circled around like an uneasy horse, feet pressed firmly into the packed dirt. A small creature of amber red and white darted out from a nearby thicket of prickly bushes and skittered across the trail. She gasped, nearly jumping out of her skin. While distracted, a pair of hands touched down on her shoulders, fingers curling over her uniform.

Jackie screeched, launching herself forwards out of the grip of the intruder. The ranger hat on her head tipped off, rolling and bouncing off the gravel. Her arms barely caught her in time to save her face from getting superficial scratches. Squirming, she rolled onto her back and scrambled into a squat. Benny stood there, cackling loud enough to send a few birds flying from their nests in the trees. His smile took up most of his face. Smile lines deepend and the prominent gap between his teeth was on full display.

“I got you good, didn’t I?” He leaned in, holding a hand out for her. Despite the adrenaline soaring through her veins and the annoyance that tumbled within her, Jackie sighed and grasped at it for help off the ground. Freckles splattered his sun-kissed skin, his cheekbones turning to apples with his grin.

“Yeah, yeah. You owe me two cones, now, Wonderbird. Double scoops.”

“Hey, that’s not fair! You know volunteers don’t make squat here-” Benny stooped down to pick up her hat, dusting it off for her. It was true. When he first joined the park just six months ago, Jackie had been assigned as his mentor. The junior program was offered to any college students pursuing their line of work. To get a taste of life as a ranger. They didn’t make a salary, but their summers spent in action were funded by park leadership in the form of bunks and food. A far better deal than what was offered to her in Tennessee. She took up her hat and repositioned it proudly on top of her head. “But I guess it’s the least I could do for doing that.” He pointed down at her green trousers.

A small tear cut across her knee, thankfully protecting her skin from being lacerated by her fall. Sighing, Jackie lifted her leg and inspected the hole. “Luckily I brought my sewing kit with me to the tower. C’mon, let’s finish our rounds. Think the captain has extra radios for tonight? Last thing I want is to not be able to contact anyone - especially this weekend.”

The end of summer break brought in the most guests outside of the spring season. Mostly college students looking to get out of town, but not willing to commit to the cost of going to the Bahamas or Miami all the way down south. Jackie couldn’t remember most of the breaks from her college days. She crunched to get through with her degree as fast as possible. Any break she got was filled with studying or working wherever she could. She would have liked to go somewhere tropical and warm for her breaks, but she preferred the serenity that usually came with visiting state parks instead.

“How many people usually camp here during breaks?” Benny kicked a pale gray pebble into the grass alongside the pack dirt walking trail.

“Could be hundreds. Maybe even close to a thousand or more. Really depends.” Earlier that day, they had already received an influx of campers eager to stake their claim on the best spots in the park before the hoards arrived. Easily several dozen of them, all scattered between RV hookups, the rentable cabins and clearings for tents. “Just be glad you’re not working at any of the offices this weekend. I’d take firewatch over disgruntled campers any day.”

“I can’t thank you enough, you know.” An elbow bumped Jackie’s arm and she glanced at the grinning young man. “If it weren’t for you, Richards probably would’ve never let me take over tower 24. He told me you put in a good word for me.”

Smiling down at the ground, Jackie shrugged and reached out to give him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “It wasn’t all me. You’ve got the passion for this. The drive. Can’t say the same for some of the other volunteers-”

A trill of squealing laughter caught her attention. The two of them paused right at the fork. One path remained wide open with wooden signs encouraging guests to stay on the correct path. The other had overgrowth and a dirt path so narrow, one could hardly call it a trail at all. The usual rope gate meant to block it off had been cut. Both ends laid useless on the ground with frayed edges. Another bark of laughter came from the end it shouldn’t have.

“Damn…” Jackie muttered bitterly under her breath. Just when she thought they could wrap up for the afternoon. Benny puffed out his chest and stood up taller.

“C’mon, ranger,” he chirped, marching towards the rocky side path. “No dilly dallying!”

“You just want to write up a citation.” She snorted and followed alongside him. “You’re starting to sound like the captain.”

Snaking down the path, the trees overhead grew thicker and wider. Branches from lowly pines scraped against their arms. Creatures that remained unseen skittered into their hiding places. The closer they got to the three or four voices chattering away up ahead, the more signs they saw. Brand new, the signs were nailed into the untouched bark of the trees along the path or plastered on wooden signs hammered into the thick dirt.

WARNING: do not proceed! This area has been sanctioned for investigation by the State of Wyoming and local police. Any violations will result in a $500 fine.

“Have these signs always been here?” Benny’s voice lowered to a faint whisper. Jackie stepped carefully around a pile of stones gathered around the base of a thick oak. Her boots slid against their jagged surfaces. “I don’t remember them putting these up.

“I don’t either. I remember some feds were here on Wednesday, but they weren’t up for much small talk.” They stood proudly in their dark suits and shade, holding boxes of flyers and paperwork and speaking in hushed tones to her higher ups. The single chance she had to greet one of them was met with silence. Very rude. “I don’t think this was a missing person’s case, otherwise we would have been informed about it.”

Like something out of a sci-fi movie, bright yellow caution signs littered a shady grove at the end of the short path. The sound of water trickling from a nearby stream joined the quiet voices. The blocky lettering on the big yellow signs yelled at them.

DO NOT DRINK THE WATER! Do not disturb local flora as issued by the governor of Wyoming.

“Dude! You’re going to get us in trouble!” A nervous voice murmured beyond the trees. There, by the creek, four college aged kids stood around a mossy puddle. Two girls and two boys, all wearing their UW school colors. Most likely freshmen given their wide eyes and round faces. One of them stood with his jeans rolled up to his knees in the shallow water, a fist full of curling brown mushrooms that looked like kelp. They went silent at the sight of the two rangers.

“This path is restricted.” Benny took the initiative, his voice wavering just a bit at the end of his statement. Jackie let him take the reins. If he really wanted to do this for a living, he would have to get used to this. As he went over what rules they broke being there, she made her way over to a damp patch of tall grass between two moss covered trees.

Squatting, she spied even more kelp-like mushrooms. They stuck out of the grass like limp, decaying fingers out of a grave. Jackie narrowed her eyes and used a pen from her breast pocket to jab at it with as gentle of a touch as she could manage. It released a pussy substance and a musky scent that reminded her of the single frat party she attended her last year in school. Similar to weed, but different. From looks alone, she couldn’t nail down from which family this fungus derived from. In fact, she couldn’t recall anything remotely similar in all her years of study.

“You can’t do that.” The kid in the water whined, trudging out of the water. He tossed the picked mushrooms. “C’mon, man, we’re just trying to have a little fun! I gotta pay for books next week!”

Jackie looked over her shoulder in time to see Benny’s head fall like a disappointed teacher’s. He sighed and shifted his weight from foot to foot, unable to reply. Tucking her pen back into its spot, she dusted her hands off and stood.

“Here’s what we’re going to do-” She put her hands on her hips and took over for him. She spoke with authority and a rigid stance. “I’ll let you off with a warning, as long as you four keep to the official trails and stay out of trouble. If me or any of my associates catch you out of bounds again, it’ll be a $700 ticket. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The kid slipped his wet feet into his Nike sandals and hung his head. Blonde hair stuck to his pink face and despite his towering height over her, he still looked like a boy. It only made her feel older than she was. The other three murmured in agreement, following behind him. She watched them shuffle up the path until they disappeared behind a thicket of pines.

“I thought I could do it,” Benny sighed, his head swiveling side to side, checking for litter or anything else the rowdy guests may have left behind. Jackie moved to stand beside him and ruffled his mess of red hair. The way his nose scrunched and his shoulders relaxed from the playful exchange reminded her so much of Andre back at home.

“You did better than I did the first time I tried writing a citation - I cried.” Her sidekick blinked, surprised, and chuckled.

“But you’re so good at it. You’ve got a mom voice - in a good way, I mean.”

“Geez, I’m not that old, Wonderbird. First them, and now you? I’m aging by the second. You’ll have to explain to Richards why my knees are bad and my hair is graying when summer’s over, you dingus.”

Benny all but collapsed forward with laughter, holding his stomach and slapping his knee like a cheery grandfather. Jackie smiled so wide her cheeks ached. She had to avert her gaze to not let the homesickness creep in. She would miss him when he had to go back to school. Just like she missed Andre.

The mushrooms among the grass piqued her curiosity again. She stooped down beside them and inspected them without touching. Who knew what they did and who knew why the government and college kids were so interested in them.

“What are they? They were grabbing a lot of them.” Benny squatted next to her, reaching out to touch one. Jackie gently smacked the back of his hand and shook her head.

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t touch them. Let’s get to the office, the captain’s waiting for us by now.”

ITWS Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @lordkingsmith @celestialbunnistories @aeslin-writes @writinginslowmotion @chayscribbles @theramwrites @tiredlittleoldme @sapphcon-ic @hazard-writes @lookingmuchimproved @themidnxghtwriter @draculinawrites @aetherwrites @svpphicwrites @maxgraybooks @writeherewaiting @sjjsalamanders @thelittlestspider @ashen-crest @writtendevastation @ravesthewriter @adie-dee @christine-thinks @cream-and-tea @reeseweston

#itwsdrab #murdereddarlings #writeblr #itws #horror

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isnt-it-loverly · 4 years ago

Text

Fall of Rome// five hargreeves

warnings: blood, alcohol, implications of you know what, mentions of panic attack, and pregnancy

summary: when you learn a shocking truth, you look back on your life to see where it all went wrong.

requested

word count: 2436

A/N: Did I work on this instead of my school work? mmm yeah. Am I gonna regret that later? mmmm yeah. Was it worth it? mmm yeah! ALSO very important!!!! Flashbacks are in italics and Five and the reader are 25ish when rescued by commission

You thought the apocalypse was bad but this was far worse. Sitting on the dirty floor of some rinky-dink motel, clutching that stupid piece of plastic you screamed. How could you have let this happen? How could you let those two lines appear? You closed your eyes tightly and pictured where it went wrong.

You woke up with a gasp, pain radiated throughout your entire body. You sat up with tears involuntarily streaming down your face. Your surroundings were nothing but rubble and fire as far as the eye could see. You coughed and a few drops of blood spilled over your lips. Clutching your side, you stood up.

“Hello? Anyone?” You yelled. There was no response other than the crackling of fire.

“Mom! Dad! Please, I’m scared,” You cried in anguish.

You sat on a pile of rubble and waited for anyone to come. That’s what your father always told you to do when you were lost. You wailed for hours until your voice went hoarse. You whimpered, and somehow you knew that this is where you were gonna die. You slowly laid down and excepted your fate, you would not be a sole survivor. You just simply didn’t have it in you. At some point, you had drifted off to sleep but eventually awoken by something fiddling in your pockets. You bolted up to see a young boy in a dirty and tattered school uniform, looting through your jacket pockets. You both jerked back and let out shrieks of terror.

“Holy shit, you’re alive?” He asked in utter shock.

You simply just nodded, too shocked to say anything. So you two stared at each other for a moment, both very unsure of how to proceed. The boy cleared his throat and held out his hand. You took it slowly and very cautiously, still dazed from the day’s events.

“My name is Five,” he stated with a small smile, “what’s yours?”

“I- I’m (Y/n),” you rescinded in a meek tone, voice still ragged from your hours of yelling.

That’s where it all began, but that was too far back. Meeting Five was no regret either. He saved your life, and you saved him from being alone. You searched your memory again, trying to find the exact moment that altered the course of history.

It was a cold, winter’s night, the snow was falling down at a million miles an hour and the wind was screeching like a million sirens. Luckily, you and Five found shelter in an old wine cellar that had managed to stay untouched. It was underground and it provided great shelter from the harsh elements. Five had built a fire and you suggested to drink some of the wine for that rush of warmth being drunk provided. Both options sounded amazing. You were snuggled up next to him, bottle in hand, and head on his shoulder.

You watched as the flames dance around the kindling you found. There was a comfortable silence between you two. If you weren’t living in Hell, this would be a perfect moment. You felt a shiver run down your spine and Five instinctively pulled you closer. He was always like that with you, at first it had bothered you how he treated you like a porcelain doll just waiting to break. But as the years went on, He relaxed a bit. Realizing that you were tougher than you looked and that perhaps you were with him for the long run. Boy, had he fallen hard for you. Even if you weren’t the last girl on earth, He would always find a way to be with you. You were the one good thing about the apocalyptic future.

He just wished he had the courage to tell you. Sure there was this unspoken bond between the two of you, you both cared immensely for the other. He was there to hold your hair back when you got sick, you were there to patch up his wounds, he was there to comfort you when the nightmares came, and you were there to sing him to sleep when they plagued his mind from time to time. He had to make sure you knew how he felt, God forbid something happens without you knowing how much he loved you.

“(Y/n),” He spoke softly into your ear bringing you out of your trance.

“Yes?” You respond, gazing deeply into those beautiful emerald eyes.

He didn’t know what to say. How could words describe how he felt, there were none. He leaned in closer, your faces mere inches apart. He took note of every detail of your face, the scar above your eyebrow, the dirt smudges on your face, and the redness of your nose from the cold. God, he wished he could take you away from this place. You didn’t deserve it. He placed a hand on your cheek and you nuzzled into its warmth. It was now or never he told himself. He broke that microscopic gap and kissed you. You were surprised at first, but you quickly kissed him back. It was like electricity and a million fireworks going off all at once.

That was the first of many. You had loved him long before that and was very grateful that he felt the same. From that day on, everything was different. You two weren’t just two traumatized adults making their way in the world anymore, you were lovers. That made the world a little more bearable to be in, and it definitely made life a whole lot brighter. You decided that wasn’t it, there was nothing wrong there, and you wouldn’t change a thing.

Five had been nervous and finicky all day, something very unusual for him. You were getting worried honestly. After twenty minutes of watching him pace back and forth and ramble to himself, you decided to intervene.

“Five, dear, are you okay?” You asked obviously concerned. He would get like this when pining over an equation but he would always come to you for comfort. This was something new and something was off.

“Everything’s fine. Why?” He said instinctively putting his hand in his pocket. Something you noticed immediately.

“Empty your pockets,” You replied unamused.

There was a silence before he spoke up again. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said no, (Y/n).”

“Say it again so I know you’re serious.”

“No!”

Without a second thought, you lunged for his pockets. There had never been any secrets between you two, so you weren’t going to start now. He quickly blinked out of the way. That little cheater! You made a dash for him, and he did the same. Five managed to pin you down pretty quickly but was careful not to harm you in any way.

“Are you done?” He asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“No! Not until you tell me what you’re hiding Hargreeves!” You snap back.

“Fine,” he grumbled in defeat.

He helped you up and began digging in his pockets. He pulled out a diamond ring attached to a silver chain.

“I found this ring in the rubble. I knew it wouldn’t fit because of your inhumanly tiny hands. It took me months to find this necklace for it. Everything had to be perfect. So what do you say?” Five explained nervously.

“I say, I would love to be Mrs. Hargreeves,” you replied while crushing him in a hug and showering him in kisses.

No, that couldn’t be it either. It was definitely not the proposal you had imagined when you were a little girl, and there was no grand wedding in the apocalypse. That didn’t matter to the two of you though, all you needed was each other. You tried to think harder because to you all of this was meant to happen, you had come to love your little makeshift life in Hell. Then it hit you. The day that she came- the Handler. The day that she gave your husband a chance to leave the apocalypse, but not you. Luckily Five didn’t take her up on the offer, not if you weren’t by his side. Eventually, she cracked and you two were recruited for the Commission.

You looked in the mirror. It had been so long since you had seen yourself, you almost forgot what you looked like. You ran fingers through your hair, it was soft and plush. Your stomach was full, and your face free of dirt and debris. This felt wrong. Nearly 15 years in an apocalypse, and suddenly you were tossed back into civilization. You felt a sob escape your throat, what had you two gotten yourselves into. You heard a knock on the bathroom door, and composed yourself quickly- this was no place for weakness.

“(Y/n)? Can I come in? You’ve been in there for a while,” Five asked, worry evident in his voice.

You muttered a quiet yes and your husband lets himself in.

“Ya know, I’ve never seen you not caked in dirt and blood. You were beautiful then, but this is just a whole new level,” He said grabbing your arm. He carefully examined where they had placed the tracker, it was still bruised and he assumed sore. He placed a tender kiss around the area.

“And it’s been quite some time since I’ve seen you clean-shaven and with a fresh haircut. And never in a suit, so much more dapper than those schoolboy shorts you used to wear,” You said while placing a hand over his heart, feeling the crispness of the fabric.

He hummed in response and pulled you into a tight hug. This wasn’t easy for him so he knew it was hard on you. You breathe in smelling his cologne, what a change from the smell of fresh earth. You felt him place a kiss on the top of your forehead.

“We have to get going. Our orientation class starts soon, and after I need to give you a crash course in combat before our first mission,” He said while pulling away. You nodded in response. Surviving this place would be nothing compared to the apocalypse.

Yes, you thought, now we are getting somewhere. This is the fall of Rome. This is where your life began to crumble. That sense of security and the smallest ounce of normalcy gave you comfort and confidence. That was dangerous. That was it! That’s why you were in so much pain right now, that’s why your marriage could crumble, and your life terminated.

The mission had gone sour fast. You hated every minute of it. You hated every aspect of it. You hated this life. You hated your life. You didn’t want to kill someone who wasn’t your target, but they got in the way. They threatened your life, but even worse they threatened Five’s. You had no choice.

Sitting on the crusty bed of your motel room, Five hands you a bottle of tequila. “I know you’re more of a wine gal, but I think you might need something with a little more kick tonight,” He said quietly, carefully unscrewing the cap for you.

Once again you felt like that porcelain doll, except this time you had broken. You took a huge swig and Five did the same. He sat the bottle down and sat behind you. Carefully rubbing your shoulders, you let out a small sigh.

“I’m sorry that happened, Love, I should’ve been quicker,” He whispered into your ear.

You picked up the bottle and took another long sip, loving the burn as it slid down your throat.

“It’s not your fault, we got the job done. That’s all that matters,” you said in a monotoned voice.

Five hated this. He wanted to take you out of the apocalypse and give you a better life- but this is not what he envisioned. He hated how The Handler has made you into a killer, he wished he could keep your hands clean. Sometimes that wasn’t an option. You turned to face him, the flush of alcohol clear on your face. You kissed him deeply and passionately.

“Make me forget,” You whispered in between kisses.

And one thing leads to another. One drunk night in that stupid red dress, and now your life was over.

You stared at the pregnancy test, two lines. Shit. How could you be so stupid and reckless, how could you have let this happen? You hated yourself even more now. You couldn’t stand being in this life, so how could you bring a childinto it. The tears fell freely now, you had royally fucked up. You were so engrossed in your thoughts you didn’t hear Five walk in.

“Honey, I’m home,” He chided jokingly.

Your face paled and you felt like you were going to be sick. He was back early, you thought you were going to have more time to figure out what to say and more importantly what to do.

“(Y/n)? What’s wrong?” Five asked, quickly rushing to your side. He dropped to his knees and wiped away all of your tears. You clutched the test tightly so that he would see. Your hands were shaking too much though for him not to notice. He reached for your hands and you didn’t have it in you to stop him. He let out a gasp and looked straight at you.

“You’re pregnant?” He asked in disbelief. You nodded and let out another loud sob, without missing a beat Five pulled you in close. He whispered words of comfort and stroked your hair. He told you it was going to be okay, but you couldn't fathom how it would be.

“I’m so sorry Five, I’m sorry,” you cried out. He pulled you away so he could look into your eyes. The fear behind them was evident.

“This does put a crunch on time, but I swear to you I will figure out those equations and stop the apocalypse. We will have a normal life, I promise,” He said in a loving yet forceful tone.

“You’re not- you’re not mad at me?” You whispered.

“No, I’m not mad at you. I love you (Y/n), with all my heart. I won’t let anything happen to you or this child,” He said pulling you into a tight hug.

Your fears melted away, and you pretended that this was a normal moment. No impending doomsday, no time-traveling assassins, just two people in love who are cherishing a new chapter in their lives. You closed your eyes and imagined a future. It was bright, and you knew that Five would never break a promise.

“I love you too,” You smiled back.

#number five #five x reader #number five x reader #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five #five x you #Umbrella Academy #number five x you #The Umbrella Academy #aidan gallagher

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pumpkaaboo · 4 years ago

Text

Here's chapter 1 of the Revolutionary Girl Utena/Neon Genesis Evangelion crossover I've been working on with @nerd-dot-jpeg! It's been really fun to work on so far! Full text under the cut.

“Attention, due to the special state of emergency declared for the Toukai region and the surrounding mid-Kanto area, an evacuation has been ordered. Please proceed to your designated shelter immediately.”

Utena stretched nervously, bouncing into a lunge with her left leg forward, then her right, before standing up straight and pulling her arms to the side one at a time, relishing in the weight of her thick black jacket. She grunted with exertion, then sighed, leaning back against a nearby telephone pole. “She’s late…”

For once, the city’s streets and monstrous buildings of concrete, glass, and steel were silent. No cars honked in tune with the screaming of their drivers caught in a traffic jam, no neighbors shouted at each other from their windows, and all the speaker systems that usually blared a cacophony of arguments for why Utena needed countless products she had never heard of only repeated that same toneless message in perfect sync. Not even the pigeons were around to make noise.

“Attention,” the message looped, “Due to the special state of emergency declared…”

Utena pulled her long pink hair into a ponytail. Then she took it out. She kicked an empty soda can into the air, bouncing it between her feet. She made a game out of not letting it hit the ground, before finally sending it soaring to a perfect landing in a nearby trash can. She gave herself a moment to celebrate her shot, but the excitement faded quickly, leaving only a gnawing anxiety behind. Then she put her hair back up.

“Maybe she got delayed by the Angel… I should be out there, doing something… I came all this way to help, but I’m useless now!”

With a growl of frustration, Utena sprang back to her feet and started doing lunges again.

Suddenly, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She whipped around, and met the gaze of a girl with dark skin and long violet hair that cascaded down to her waist. Her green eyes seemed to almost glow in the afternoon light, and she stood perfectly still in the middle of the intersection, the heat distortion causing her form to waver like a mirage, a trick of the light. Something about her seemed familiar, somehow.

For some reason, she reminded Utena of a doll.

Perhaps it was the way her arms hung limply, languid, at her sides, perhaps it was her empty expression, perhaps it was the fact that Utena had been staring at her, frozen, for at least twenty seconds and she hadn’t blinked-

“Attention, due to the special state of emergency-”

Utena jumped, the announcement snapping her out of her trance. She glanced up at it, then back at the girl, who hadn’t moved. She took a step forward. “Hey-”

You need to get to an evacuation shelter, she wanted to say, it’s not safe here, but she was cut off by the sounds of a revving engine and the screeching of tires against pavement as a bright yellow car skidded to a stop in front of her, almost tipping over itself in the process.

The driver’s-side door opened, and a woman in sunglasses and a red military jacket leaned out. “Sorry to keep you waiting! Utena Tenjou, right?”

Utena blinked, then nodded. She stood on her toes, leaning to the side of the car to try and catch a glimpse of the girl again, but the intersection was empty save for the steaming tire tracks and smell of burnt rubber.

“Something wrong?”

“Nothing I just… I thought I saw someone.”

The woman followed Utena’s gaze, then shook her head. “Well, whoever it was, they must have left. I hope they get to a shelter in time… You should get in, by the way. I hate to rush you, but, well… unforeseen circumstances and all that.”

As if on cue, a thunderous boom rang out from somewhere in the distance, as a shockwave rippled across the city. Utena stumbled, catching herself on the car. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry I had to make you come all this way at such a time… it’s rotten luck, really.”

The woman grinned. “Don’t worry about it. I’m Misato Akagi, by the way, and I’ll be your commanding officer from here on out.”

Utena nodded, climbing into the passenger’s seat and buckling her seat belt. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Akagi.”

Misato groaned. “Please, Ms. Akagi is my wife. You can call me Misato.” She took in Utena’s poorly-disguised shock and laughed as she pulled out of her “parking space”. “Let me guess: first time you’ve ever met a real live gay person, huh?”

“I- well I mean- I’d heard of- and of course there must have been some that I just didn’t know they were- but-”

“Don’t worry about it. Just treat us like you would any other couple and we’ll get along fine.”

Utena nodded. “Got it, Ms. Misato.”

“Hey, you’re getting it! By the way, I need to make a call now that I have you, but is there anything you need to say first?” Utena shook her head. “Great, this’ll just be a couple minutes.”

Utena took this as her cue to tune Misato out and stare out the window. Just over the mountains, she could see a couple of silver dots moving through the sky.

“Hey, Ritsuko, it’s me. I have the Sixth, and we’ll make it to the car shuttle train in about twenty minutes, assuming the Angel doesn’t fall right on top of us, of course. Make sure it’s ready.” Some muffled words came through the speaker, but Utena couldn’t make them out. “Of course I don’t doubt you, I just wanted to check to be safe… oh, and make sure Ohtori knows we’re on our way, too. He’s been quite vehement about making sure this one gets to HQ ASAP. Love you too, see you soon, bye!”

Misato hung up the phone with a loving sigh, her eyes taking on a relaxed softness as they returned to the road. Utena glanced at the phone, then back at Misato. “Your wife?” she asked.

“The one and only Ritsuko Akagi, the sharpest mind this side of the Andromeda galaxy. God, I love that woman.”

I can tell, thought Utena. Now that she’d had a bit of time to get accustomed to the idea of two women being… together, she could appreciate what the romance had clearly done for Misato. She fought back a pang of envy at the adoring expression on Misato’s face. Maybe someday, when I find my prince…

They drove in silence for a few minutes, barring the occasional shockwave from the battle with the Angel raging on in the distance. A blinding light cast the entire valley they were driving through into shadow, but it was gone as quickly as it came, leaving nothing but a plume of smoke behind.

Utena shifted in her seat. “I hope the pilot’s okay…”

Misato grimaced. “It’s Saionji-san this time, he’s tough, he’ll be fine,” she said, unconvincingly. The silence, which before had been uncomfortable, was growing unbearable. “So!” Misato said, clearly in a desperate attempt to break it. “From what I’ve read in your file, we actually have a lot in common!”

“Really?”

“Yep! Antarctica, Second Impact, right?”

Utena stared. “You too? I didn’t realize anyone else…”

“As far as anyone knows, the two of us are the only survivors, and we were both kids whose parents worked there. Kind of a weird coincidence, don’t you think?”

“Definitely. Um, if it’s not too forward of me to ask, how long were you…?”

“Oh, I wasn’t in cryostasis like you were, so I didn’t lose any time. Luckily, the protective capsule my dad put me in got found floating out at sea before I died of dehydration, but as a result of my experiences, I was unable to speak for several years.”

“Oh.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. It was a long time ago, and I’m totally fine now!” Misato flashed Utena a grin. “What about you? What’s your story? If you feel comfortable sharing it, that is.”

“Um, this is going to sound kinda silly.”

“Don’t worry about it! This is a bonding exercise, anything goes.”

“Well… it was a prince.”

“Wait, what? What was?”

Another shockwave tore through the car, stronger this time, or maybe they were just closer to the source. Utena cried out in alarm, and she could see that Misato’s hands had tightened on the steering wheel.

“After the wing my parents were in collapsed, but before the big explosion, there was a prince who came to me. Like, right out of a fairy tale. He was shining, and he smelled like roses. He told me to never lose my strength or nobility, even when I grew up, and then put me in the pod and sealed it. Um, but my memories of that day are pretty fuzzy, so I don’t really know where he came from or… anything else.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, seven years in cryostasis will do that to you.” Misato flashed Utena a reassuring smile.

Utena returned the smile, and then, emboldened by Misato’s encouragement, continued. “Well, after that, I decided that I wanted to become a prince who saves people just like he did for me, so I started dressing like a boy, and I adopted a chivalrous lifestyle… and well, here I am now.”

Misato’s eyes shone. “That’s so cool! It really gives me hope, you know, that people still choose to be brave and kind to each other, even after everything… oh, and by the way, the school you’ll be attending has a mandatory dress code, but one of the perks of being an Eva pilot is that you get to wear whatever you want, so you won’t have to fight the teachers on the whole uniform thing.”

“Really? That’s a relief.” Utena rubbed her fingers absentmindedly, protectively, against her jacket’s thick sleeve, enjoying the texture. “My last school had this crazy guidance counselor… I swear, you put one toe over these invisible lines people made up about what boys and girls can and can’t do, and everyone loses their minds.”

Misato winced. “Tell me about it…”

“Oh! Oh right, of course you’d know all about that-” Utena flailed around verbally once more, suddenly remembering Misato’s… situation. “Sorry, I just forgot-”

“Hey, no worries. I guess you could say we’re birds of a feather in a lot of ways, huh?”

“...Yeah, I- I guess we are.”

“By the way, how would you feel about-”

Whatever Misato was about to say next was cut off by another shockwave, this one even stronger than the last. But this time, instead of dissipating harmlessly, it was followed by an avalanche of boulders thrown into the air from when a nearby mountain had- oh dear god, it had exploded.

Misato shouted with alarm and slammed on the brakes, just barely avoiding a crash with the boulder in front of them. Several more impacted with the road behind them, trapping the car right where it was. A roar shook the mountains, and the pair slowly turned their gazes toward the source.

There was an Evangelion standing there in a combat stance, prog knife in hand, its metallic chassis gleaming blood-red in the harsh afternoon light, with green and gold accents shimmering like stars through the heavy smoke rising from the ashes of what used to be a mountain. And standing across from it…

“That’s an Angel?” Utena asked, horror keeping her voice from rising above a whisper. Misato gave a terse nod.

The thing was titanic , almost half the size of the mountain that it and the Eva had just wiped off the face of the earth. It had six sinewy arms and no legs or head, and a red orb portruded from its back. It roared once more from its many gaping, salivating jaws, one at each shoulder and probably several more where Utena couldn’t see, before making another charge at the Eva. The massive robot sprang into action, dodging the Angel’s hands and slashing at it with its prog knife again and again, but was repelled each time by some sort of shimmering orange field.

“I… I’d seen the videos, but…”

Misato didn’t take her eyes off the fight. “Nothing can prepare you for the real thing. I’m sorry you had to find out like this. We need to get out of this car; it’ll be of no protection for us if either of them hurls something — or, god forbid, themselves — over here.”

Utena nodded with agreement, and together they exited the car and climbed on top of a nearby boulder, hoping for a better vantage point. Utena pulled her knees to her chest. “So that’s gonna be my duty next, huh?”

“If we survive this…” Misato’s voice was barely a whisper; she didn’t seem to have noticed that she had spoken aloud. “You’ll be added to the rotation of pilots for Unit R05, yes.”

“Ah.”

They sat together in silence for a few more minutes, watching the fight. The combatants seemed to be at a sort of standstill, with the Angel unable to pin down the Eva for long enough to bite into it, and the Eva unable to pierce the Angel’s strange orange shield.

Misato’s eyes narrowed. “Saionji’s sync rate must be down, if he can’t get through that A.T. field. Argh, I knew we should’ve prepared Miki instead, but he insisted-”

The Angel got a hit on the Eva's face.

There was a moment of sudden, deafening silence.

And then the Eva screamed.

Giant steel-plated arms grasped at its head, metallic and organic screeches blending together. Blood-red spikes shot out of the chassis, fracturing it in several places. Misato cursed and whipped her phone out of her pocket, hastily pressing a few buttons. The face of an intense-looking blonde woman popped up on the screen, with a white hospital room in the background. “He’s been the pilot for too long, psychological contamination is setting in! R05’s going berserk!” Misato shouted.

“We know that!” the other woman hissed.

“So what are our options?”

“We’ll have to shut down R05 and send D10.”

Misato sucked in a breath. “No… Anthy’s still injured! She can’t pilot in her state!”

“Do you have a better plan?” the woman shot back.

MIsato glared at her feet.

The blonde woman turned to her side. “That’s it then. Anthy, you’re being deployed.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Utena gasped in horror as a wheeled gurney came into view of the camera. There was a girl on it-the same girl she had seen in the intersection, but her purple hair was curled into a tight roll all the way around her head, and she wore a pair of round glasses, and almost every inch of her skin was covered in bandages, some of them already showing red with blood soaking through. The girl seemed to mentally steel herself, before sitting up with a soft cry of pain and slumping against the blonde woman’s side, panting.

“No!”

All eyes turned toward Utena.

“I’ll pilot the Eva! That’s what I’m here for, right? You can’t make her do this!”

Misato met the blonde woman’s eyes. “...Could that work?”

She thought for a few seconds. “If we perform a full shutdown of R05, we could buy the Sixth about thirty seconds to get into the entry plug before it restarts itself and resumes its berserk rampage. Of course, that would be thirty seconds of total vulnerability…”

“We could distract it by sending military jets to bomb it,” Misato added.

“That could work… but there’s still the risk of the Angel realizing what we’re trying to do, or a stray bomb hitting the Sixth.”

“Then let’s leave it up to her. Utena, are you sure you want to do this?”

Utena hadn’t broken eye contact with the strange girl. Those green eyes, shining with pain and fear and despair...

“I’ll do it.”

The girl’s eyes widened with shock and, perhaps, a spark of hope.

Misato closed her eyes. “That settles it, then. Ritsuko, I hope you’re prepared to line everything up quickly, because we’re going to need that time. Utena, I’m going to need you to watch R05 closely. Try to predict where it’s going to fall, because you’re only going to have thirty seconds to get into the entry plug, where its spine meets its neck. Once you’re in there, you’re going to find Saionji unconscious in the cockpit. He’s wearing a pair of triangular metallic hair clips-those are the neural interface, you’ll need to clip them to your own hair, as close to your head as possible. Got all that?”

Utena nodded, her stance tense with determination. “Good. After that… Well, from what I’ve heard, piloting an Eva is sink-or-swim. There isn’t really any advice I can give you, since I’ve never done it myself… so try to swim. Good luck.”

Misato returned to her phone and started barking orders, and Utena slid off the rock towards where the battle was raging on. The spikes piercing out of R05’s chassis had started dripping a red liquid that steamed when it hit the ground. The metal at its shoulder blades bulged and cracked, and she could see an eerie purple light shining through the fissures.

One drop of liquid hit the Angel’s hand, and its howl of pain shook the entire valley. The hand melted away completely, leaving a stump at the wrist. The spots on the ground where the melted flesh had landed turned green, and if Utena looked closely, she could see thorny vines growing out of them.

Utena returned her attention to the Angel. Maybe, without its hand, we have a chance… her thoughts were cut off when the Angel flexed its arm, and two more hands grew from the stump. Oh. It can do that. Okay. The Angel screeched from all of its mouths, and as R05 lunged at it, caught the mech’s arms with two hands each, and began scrabbling at the Eva's chestpiece with its free arm.

With a keening cry, more spikes shot out of R05’s chest, catching the Angel’s shoulders and causing it to stumble back. The Eva took a few steps backward, panting. There was a sickening crack , and Utena could see that the fissures in its back had grown a bit larger, the purple light spilling out a little bit brighter.

Misato cursed. “Its wings are about to erupt! Ritsuko, we need those reinforcements now! ”

“They’re on their way!” And sure enough, Utena could hear jet engines approaching rapidly, Something streaked toward the Angel, and an explosion rang out. The Angel stumbled forward and whipped around to face the squadron of fighter jets that were flying towards it. It let out a roar, and sprinted away from R05.

“Utena, go! ” Misato shouted as the Eva, seemingly about to charge after the Angel shuddered to a halt, then collapsed onto its side. Utena sprang into action, sprinting towards R05 before it even hit the ground and vaulting onto its wrist, before climbing up the arm. She pulled herself up onto its back and began making her way towards the entry plug as quickly as she could, taking care to avoid the red spikes, which she could now see were black at the base.

Another explosion from the Angel’s battle with the jets rang out, and Utena cried out in alarm as she fell into a crouch, clinging to one of the fissures in R05’s armor to keep from falling off. It was emanating some sort of strange energy, and Utena’s hands were starting to go numb. She pushed herself back to her feet, wincing as she tried to massage the feeling back into her fingers, and kept going.

She had just barely reached the entry plug when a shudder ran through the Eva, and it began to move its arms into position to push itself back up. Utena gulped, then twisted the release on the emergency escape hatch on the entry plug and slipped inside, shutting it tightly behind her.

And not a moment too soon, for an instant after the hatch was sealed, she was suddenly vertical, flung forward into empty space. Then she hit some sort of uncomfortably warm liquid, and didn’t even have time to gasp for breath before she was submerged. She coughed and sputtered, but after a few seconds, realized that she could breathe in the liquid almost as easily as air. It was orange, and transparent, thicker than air or water but not gelatinous, and it smelled like salt, with a faint hint of something acrid and sickly sweet. Fighting down a wave of disgust, Utena swam deeper into the entry plug, towards where she could see a chair suspended in the liquid.

Sure enough, just as Misato had said, there was a boy floating there, unconscious, his dark hair swirling around him like a kelp forest, with the triangular neural interface clips attached close to his scalp. Utena gingerly undid the clasps, then with both clips clutched in her hand, shoved the boy (Saionji?) up away from the seat. She settled into it, and somehow, the chair seemed almost made to fit her narrow frame.

Alright, R05 , Utena thought, it’s just you and me now. Moment of truth. With a deep breath, she affixed the clips to her own head.

She was enveloped by the scent of roses.

A heartbeat later, she was nearly bowled over by a wave of sensation and pain. The walls of the entry plug around her flickered , and suddenly displayed the scene of the battle, as if she were seeing through R05’s eyes. She could feel the spikes protruding from the Eva's body just as though it was her own, along with waves of pressure pounding at her shoulder blades.

Utena couldn't suppress a cry of agony, and she curled up in her seat. She could see R05’s movements jerk to a halt as it adjusted to this new connection. Emotions tore through her, somehow more intense than they were normally. Pain, confusion, fear… familiarity? Something about this, about being so close to this monstrosity of steel and fluid felt… right , somehow. Forcing herself upright, Utena reached out and stroked the wall of the entry plug.

“Hey, it’ll be alright,” she said, in the most soothing voice she could muster, “I’m new here, and I don’t really know how to do this, so we’re going to have to work together, okay?”

The Evangelion had stopped moving. It stood at attention, and even though Utena knew on an intellectual level that it was just a robot, it almost seemed… hopeful? “I know it hurts, I’m so, so sorry. Please, just work with me here and it’ll be over soon, I promise.”

Utena felt a ripple of some emotion — was it acceptance? Relief? — and then, suddenly, the pressure at her shoulder blades receded, and the limbs of the Eva became her own. Utena smiled gratefully. “Thanks, bud. Now let’s go kill an Angel.”

Together, they turned their attention back to the fight. Two of the planes had crashed to the ground already, a third was missing with no sign of where it had gone, and the Angel stood on four of its arms, the other two flailing wildly into the air, occasionally extending far past where its bones should allow and requiring a plane to make a hasty dodge to avoid it. “We need to get it to leave those planes alone. Can you do that?”

As if in affirmation, Utena felt her attention directed towards R05’s wrist. A small gun was embedded there; not strong enough to do any real damage to the Angel, but enough to distract it enough to give the planes enough time to retreat. She lifted R05’s arm and fired.

The shot hit the Angel right at the edge of one of its mouths. The thing stiffened, and turned towards them. “Hey wait, how does it see us if it doesn’t have any eye- AH!” Utena’s sentence was cut off by a scream as the Angel charged them, slamming into R05’s chassis and knocking them both back. One of its shoulders collided with the Eva’s forearm, and she gasped in pain as its swordlike fangs dug in. It’s not real , she tried to convince herself desperately, as she felt the fibers of her muscles severed and teeth grinding against her bones. It’s just feedback, it’s not your pain…

But it was R05’s.

Machine or not, R05 felt pain.

A newfound determination welled in Utena’s chest. I can’t let this continue, she thought. I’m fighting for both of us, now.

She clutched the prog knife in her free hand and drove it upward. It crashed into the orange forcefield, sending splinters of pain up Utena’s arm, but she kept pushing. She felt a pulse of energy shoot out from R05’s core, and suddenly, the knife’s blade slipped through the field, right into the monster’s shoulder.

The Angel howled in agony and released her, but Utena didn’t retreat, instead springing back to (her? The Eva’s?) feet. She grasped the knife in both hands and brought the blade down on the orb in the Angel’s back again and again, until she felt something crack underneath the point. She dug the knife deeper, and the orb suddenly lit up, brighter than the sun—

She and R05 were thrown back by the explosion, they hit the side of a mountain, their heads impacting painfully against the rock, stars danced before their eyes—

It smells like roses, Utena thought.

Then there was nothing but darkness.

#revolutionary girl utena #rgu #neon genesis evangelion #nge #shoujo kakumei utena #sku #utena tenjou #anthy himemiya #utena x anthy #misato katsuragi #ritsuko akagi #utenanthy #my writing

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missinghan · 5 years ago

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radiant ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : college!au ; love-hate relationship!au ; frenemies to lovers!au ; fluff

❖ word count : 10k.

❖ warning : explicit language & mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : you've made a mental note to yourself never to make dumb bets with J.One again because who knows you'll fall for Han Jisung over two cups of boba?

one.

College.

That specific morifying seven-letter word can literally make someone jump off a cliff. Like straight up, Lucifer would rather drink and bathe himself in holy water than to join one of the world's most traumatizing systems. Where knowledge is being drilled into people's mind like a tattoo, and it's not even a cute one, one that you most likely will regret later.

Man, what a life.

After highschool, most people thought they were ready, physically and mentally. That's not true. Did you really think that you're ready for monotonous lectures, for back-to-back assignments with ridiculous deadlines, for cramming forty slides of the PowerPoint presentation from your professor the night before an exam just because your brain cells decided to say 'fuck it' in the middle of the lecture ?

No one's ever ready for living to torture themselves.

Not even Hwang Hyunjin. Hyunjin, the boy you grew up having him right by your window. Hyunjin, that one kid in class who would always hand people his homework whenever they asked for it. He's too kind for this world, for his own good, you often say that to yourself but Hyunjin isn't really all that great.

He too takes pain in turning in assignments to the T.A and dreads his 9am classes tremendously. But, since he's got a rich ass uncle who has some spare apartments lying somewhat near college ( as long as he preserves the place and invites someone over to help paying the bills ), he doesn't have to deal with the struggles of living on campus.

And you, just happen to have the honor to live with him. Well, more like temporarily to see how things will work out later. You despise living on campus anyway.

"What's with the long face ? Did Minho ramble about his cats again instead of working ?" Hyunjin walks into the living room before dropping his keys into the gold-accent bowl that he previously purchased from a garage sale. It's quite convenient, actually, the keys never end up under the couch or some random drawers again.

You look up from your laptop screen, sparing him a glare and focusing back on your assignment. Being a media major is equivalent to taking lots of notes and a shit ton of reading which is a pain in the ass. Meanwhile, a theatre kid like your roommate has his midterms and finals as setting up plays for school's events. Pfft, privileged people.

You don't hate-hate the idea of going to school like some people, in fact, you genuinely love learning, but you're in desperate need of another word for 'child labour' to be applied to this ... situation.

"Ohoho.. It's way worse, trust me, you don't wanna know." You lean your head sideways on one of the pillows, words slightly slurred with your cheek being pressed against the soft surface.

Hyunjin raises his voice from the kitchen area. "Did he confess his love for you or something ?"

"Jesus no ! You know he's not into me like that." You almost screech and sit straight up. "We were supposed to finish our project that's due this Friday. And guess who else was there ? Another chick showed up ! I swear that I wasn't hallucinating, he brought a new one home every other day. She said she was just 'a friend'." You make the quote-on-quote sign with your fingers to emphasize.

You pull on your own hair dramatically with all your might, hissing under your breath just by recalling it. "And whenever we had a twenty-minute break every hour and a half or so, she keeps brushing herself against him, acting all innocent about it. I was deadass pissed off—"

"Woah woah, I don't think it's that—"

You throw your hands in the air helplessly, suppressing the urge to throw a tantrum. "It is that bad, Hyunjin ! The chick doesn't know how to take a fucking hint !" Whatever, Hyunjin is probably too tired to wait for you to finish complaining about some random classmate drooling over Minho because they do that all the time anyway.

"Damn." He sips on his apple juice. "I should come over next time. Might be a not-so-shitty, watered-down version of 'Fifty Shades of Grey'."

You shoot him a glare, closing your laptop shut. "I instantly regret moving in with you."

"Why ?" Hyunjin pouts and plops himself next to you on the beige-colored couch. He reaches for the remote on the coffee table while obnoxiously sipping on the box of juice.

"Because apparently, you love weird, gross, mushy noises as much as Minho does." You answer flatly, burying yourself deeper into the white fuzzy blanket. Actually, no. Living with Hyunjin isn't as bad as you're trying to make it sound.

He might not cook, but he knows some decent restaurant with reasonable prices. He might be all over the place sometimes while panicking over an upcoming exam but at least he keeps his space organized ( unlike Han Jisung, whose closet is a perfect resemblance of World War III ).

Hyunjin throws his apple juice into the nearby bin while scrolling through the 'Romance' section briefly. And sharing the same Netflix account is probably the best decision you two have ever made. "What's worth-hating here ? No smelly kids, no not-having-enough-personal-space problem. There's good food, a cute, quirky roommate which naturally equals good company. You're living your best life right now. The only downside to this is that you have to deal with my questionable sleeping habits."

Fine. Hwang Hyunjin is cute, and a total heartthrob to the entire school. You won't be surprised if every single male student hates him with a passion ( which they do ). Not to mention, all of your female classmates would be more than happy to finish all of your assignments within two days as long as you hand over his number. Although they might want to reconsider due to the fact that this good-looking boy is also that person who records his alarm by yelling at the top of his lungs into his phone speaker.

But, a good friend wouldn't do that, because even God doesn't know what those creepy girls would do once they had their hands on his phone number. This is also why you always get dirty looks from everyone just because you just happen to be his plus-one for everything.

And Hwang Hyunjin only needs a plus-one when Seungmin decides to hate him on that day ( which is almost everyday ). So there goes your reputation. You're probably nothing but a mediocre girl who just doesn't know when not to be all over her hot best friend in the people's eyes.

Hyunjin snaps his head towards the front door when the bell rings then proceeds to turn back to his roommate, showing those ridiculously adorable puppy that naturally implies as 'Get the door for me, will ya ?'. And although all you want to do is to slap him with your laptop, you still stand up nonetheless. You undo the chains and slides the lock over before swinging the door open.

"Hyunjin, I was wondering if you wanna come see us perform this Saturday. You know, at the school's mini music festival. 8p.m. Got two tickets to spare. You can get yourself a plus-one or something." And before you - with an obnoxiously loud tone, the leather jacket and Balenciaga cap - is Changbin, who sassily brushes past you and makes a beeline towards the couch, where Hyunjin is man-spreading, wrapped up securely in his white fluffy blanket.

He lazily sits up from his previous position, receiving the tickets with half-open eyes. "I'll go. As long as 'Wow' is on schedule." 'Wow' is 3racha's first and most definitely last attempt of a love song but somehow, it's managed to get itself a special place in Hyunjin's heart. Well, more accurately, everyone's heart.

Changbin cocks an eyebrow. "It's first on the list actually." He then turns to you with a smirk spread across his lips. "Whatcha say, Y/N ? We all know your favorite line is 'Excuse me noona, do you have a boyfriend ?' from the lovely J.One." He refers to one of Jisung's lines in a love song which he wrote at the age of 16, Changbin wasn’t even 18 himself then. Good times. And now literally every girl is more than ready to throw themselves at him anytime, anywhere. Chan really didn't lie when he proclaimed 3racha as 'hot'.

You shake your head with a timid smile tugged on your lips. "I don't think so Bin, I'm having midterms on Monday, J.One can be saved later as my midnight snack whenever I wanna grill his ass for pestering me during the golden hour aka 3a.m."

Midterms sound good enough for an excuse because everyone would literally kill keep their A-s on those report cards. But unfortunately, you can't just play on the infamous SpearB that easily because apparently, being roommates with Hyunjin has absolutely nothing to do with improving your awful acting skills.

Just then, the most inappropriate, insufferable, infuriating, and other synonyms for 'annoying' clapback clicks inside Changbin's brain when an imaginary lightbulb pops up at the top of his head. "Man, you two are really out there banging each other in secret—"

And out the door he goes before you feel the need to personally stitch up his lips with your terrible sewing skills from elementary school. You close your eyes and takes in a deep breath, shutting the door behind your back while Hyunjin is too busy laughing his ass off on the couch.

This is getting to the point where you don't even need Han Jisung to be here to have the urge to strangle him, because his trash friends are no help at all.

two.

You step onto the bus with your earbuds on, right hand dropping the bus ticket into the glass box that's neatly placed right beside the driver's seat. Another day, another 4 hours of lectures and 2 continuous shifts which is another 5 hours at the café on campus, in which, sucks. But, what makes it even suckier comes right in three, two, one..

"Two people please !" A disturbingly obnoxious voice chirps right behind you. Just then, a figure dashes through the couple who are currently throwing daggers at him with their eyes. Not this again. You groans to yourself before sliding an extra ticket into the box because you definitely know better than to mess with a cranky bus driver. That boy over there really gotta pay for that shit.

Then, you take a seat beside the window, deciding to ignore the pest who just made you spend an extra ticket for his ride. You really should have taken another bus instead of the 325. Suddenly, a hand reaches towards one of your earbuds and pulls it out quickly. A puff of air hits your left eardrums like a rush of electricity, causing you to jump a bit.

"Can you stay still for a good span of 10 fucking seconds ?" You deadpan and and snap your head around. And before you - with slightly damp fringe covering his warm brown orbs, cute button nose and peachy lips ( gross ) - is Han Jisung. More accurately, the bane of your existence.

Jisung chuckles loudly at the big scowl on your face as he angles his head to take a proper look at you. You look like you just rolled out of bed, literally, not even metaphorically. Sweatpants, flannels and sneakers are the way to go if you're gonna be on your feet all day running around to serve sleep-deprived students and professors. Of course you look like a complete bum, it's 9a.m. What did he expect ?

"Aw." He pouts. "Where's the fun in that then, little cub ?"

And when Jisung reaches a hand out to pat your head, you frowns at his particularly ridiculous nickname for you and slaps his hand away. He watched the new remake of 'The Lion King' before the new semester started and cried like a total baby when Mufasa fell off the cliff, said Felix. Honestly, you wouldn't blame him because those devastating thirty seconds remain to be the most heartbreaking scene that Disney has ever invented. But still, the nickname is painfully unoriginal.

"Man, I hope you bombed your midterms or something." You speak up flatly, a slightly better retort lingering at the tip of your tongue but you're far too tired to argue with him anyway. And not to mention, your previous statement is completely useless because if Hwang Hyunjin is that kid who works his ass off to get good grades then Jisung is the complete opposite of that. He can sleep through ten lectures and still get a minimum of 90% on his exams. The perks of being a prodigy since newborn, can't relate.

Jisung feigns a painful expression, scrunching his nose up in fake agony. "How supportive of you, so incredibly validating." He cocks his head upwards carelessly, giving you a full view of his side profile.

Okay. Despite his annoying personality and questionable nicknames for everyone then Han Jisung is kinda attractive. You get it, you get it, Hwang Hyunjin is attractive but this prick is another kind of attractive.

Whenever he screams his heart out at the mic on stage, there are literal silver and gold specks floating in his eyes like an explosion of stardust scattered across the whole universe. And the way he conveys his emotions into his lyrics to perform an entire song on stage is just tremendously remarkable. No wonder all the girls always come rushing in when J.One is on stage.

Wait, were you thinking about Han Jisung or J.One ? But no, Han Jisung is J.One. It's just that J.One is slightly cooler than Jisung because he doesn't pester people until they have a cardiac arrest. Whatever, your brain is already yelling for retirement.

"You are coming to watch my performance right ?" Jisung suddenly leans over, your noses almost touching. Being the idiotic person that you are, your body immediately locks itself in place, hissing slightly at the current proximity. Great, now what ?

"Ooh." A low whistle escapes his lips. "You were too busy checking me out. It's okay, that's understandable. Not everyone can have a close-up of J.One's out-of-this-world visual." He flips his imaginary long hair and you make a gagging noise.

"I was not !" You exclaim upon embarrassment, cheeks turning into a bright shade of coral. "There's just something in your teeth."

"Uh huh, I doubt it." Yeah, he would never buy that. Jisung smiles at you cheekily and once again, Han Jisung has proved that he's the kind of guy who has the particular type of smile that makes you want to knock their teeth out. Although you can't help but fall for it nonetheless. Very typical of you. "So, are you coming or nah ?"

Your heart tingles a bit, and you feel like you can just pass out right here right now on this stupid bus in the middle of this stupid conversation with his stupid boy and his stupid smile. "No, I have my midterms on Monday. Guess who's pulling all nighters again ?" You push his face away because if not, you might as well just explode and make a fool of yourself.

"Ahhhh, why not ?" Jisung whines as if there's no tomorrow. "It's not like you enjoy drowning yourself in Kang's 40 slides of 'History of Media 101' anyway." Now, for once in a fairly long time, the bastard finally said something that wasn't complete bullshit. And you're starting to reconsider your decision because although Han Jisung is undeniably insufferable, J.One can make it up with his dope performances. But then again, you really just don't want to see his face on Saturdays.

Suddenly he rolls himself over again, his lips drawing a devilish smile. You can tell already from the dangerous look in his eyes, it's not going to end well.

"Are you in for a bet ? If I win, you'll have to go. But if you win, I'll do whatever you want me to, for an entire week. You're basically the privileged one here, don't even deny it."

three.

Changbin wakes up from his long nap to find Chan having his eyes glued to the laptop's screen as if his life depends on it. It makes him wonder how long his friend has been working on the rearrangement of all their songs for this Saturday's music festival.

"I see that you're making quite the progress." He grunts slightly before sitting up straight. The small faux leather couch that their school has in the band practice room isn't exactly the most comfortable thing to sleep on. But after what seems like an eternity in the lecture hall, tolerating the professor's rant then Changbin wouldn't even mind sleeping on the floor.

Chan slowly peels his eyes away from the screen and blinks numerous times so that he won't potentially go blind. He looks over at Changbin's slouch figure on the couch, tapping away on his phone and smiles dumbly at some memes that Minho just DM-ed to their group chat.

"Damn right, I just finished chopping up the bits of back-up vocals. I feel like my back is so fragile that it might break in half if I stand up." He runs a hand through his mop of black hair that's nowhere near the definition of 'doable' and yawns into his other palm.

He peeks over his shoulder to see Hyunjin and Felix sleeping while leaning against the mirror, Minho laying on top of Jeongin as he chuckles creepily at his phone. And Woojin is too busy singing his heart out with his guitar in the corner to notice Seungmin capturing everyone in their greatest glory, meaning when they're all a hot mess.

Changbin swings his legs over and slips into his black Adidas slides, walking over to Chan in a sluggish manner. He crouches down a bit while squinting his eyes to take a proper look at the laptop screen. Chan indeed has finished most of it, no wonder he looks ( and probably smells ) like trash. "I'll give you a hand, just send these over to me after when you got home." He says, giving his friend a pat on his back.

"Yeah sure," Chan puts a hand over his mouth to cover up another yawn. "By the way, where the fuck is Jisung ? He hasn't been answering my texts all morning."

Changbin gives him an indifferent shrug. "He said he would be on campus all day on Thursdays since he has classes and work right after- hold on he's texting me."

[ 5:23pm ]

piece of shit : where are you guys ?

baby changbin : band room, clearly you never listened.

[ 5:24pm ]

piece of shit : yeesh, I was busy you ass. texting y/n and all.

baby changbin : it was fucking 3a.m. !

[ 5:25pm ]

piece of shit : whatever, we'll be there in two.

He pauses for a while and lets the words sink in. Why "we" and not "I" ? Since when this was a plural thing ? Did all of those lectures and serving sleep-deprived students fuck up his brain cells ?

Wow, now Changbin feels bold to assume that Han Jisung even own brain cells. And before he can show the texts to the rest of his friends to make fun of Jisung while he's not here, the glass door swings open. Hyunjin and Felix jolt up in surprise at the same time, almost bumping their heads together at the creaking sound.

"We got you kids boba, wake up wake up hurry hurry SCHNELL !" Jisung screeches loudly when he pushes himself through the front door, accidentally making you bump your forehead into the dull glass surface.

You follows him inside with a big scowl on your face, quickly passing Changbin the plastic bags. Yes, you can hear the polar bears crying in the distance loud and clear but unluckily you only have two hands for ten cups of boba.

"Why boba all of a sudden ?" Minho looks up from his phone in boredom as Jeongin is utterly dying underneath, slapping his palm repeatedly against the floor in exhaustion.

Minho feels ( kinda ) bad for him and decides to roll himself over, setting Jeongin free from his miserable state. "Did you two go on a date or something ?" The youngest one's features morph into a frown, eyeing the two up and down in caution when he crosses his legs together.

You make an unimpressed face and glares at Jisung, who's currently hogging the entire black couch on his own. "Who the fuck would make their date carry everything then ? You tell me Jeongin."

Woojin stands up after craning his neck and shakes his head in disapproval. "My greatest disappointment, Han Jisung, would do that unfortunately." He walks over to Felix and Hyunjin to get himself a cup from the bag.

"Let's be honest, you'd still date him even if he does that anyway. I haven never seen any other girl who has the courage to personally rummage through his disastrous closet just to steal a hoodie." He takes a sip and smirks at the black hoodie that you're wearing. Woojin thinks you should definitely give yourself more credit because personally, he can't be bothered to step into Jisung's room, much less his closet.

You're still slightly confused for a moment there but quickly look down and almost gasp in realization. "I can explain—"

"Don't worry Y/N, if he ever mistreats you, you best believe that he's not gonna see tomorrow's daylight." Felix supplies unhelpfully over a mouthful of boba. Since when did he become such a nuisance ? But he's not entirely wrong because if no one volunteers to skin Jisung alive when he leaves you with a broken heart then Hyunjin will literally disown him. He doesn't care if it's legal or not because even a law student like Woojin would be on his side in this.

You hold up your hand defeatedly. "The jerk purposely left it on my couch back at the apartment. And Hyunjin didn't want to return nor wash it so I was obligated to do that myself. Eventually, the hoodie just ended up on a hanger right behind my bedroom door. Not to mention, I was running late earlier and had nothing to wear." You finish your sentence, realizing that your roommate has been giving you a 'wtf' face all his time.

"Out of reasons already ?" Chan chirps, raising a dark brow.

Okay.

In your defense, it's a goddamn good hoodie. The material is actually really nice that you might accidentally fall asleep if you wear this to class. You didn't mind the design on it either, kinda boyish but very funky, almost hippie looking. And last but not least, the smell of it is intoxicating, leaving you yearning for more. That's also equivalent to Jisung smells nice ( ew ) and your cheeks automatically heat up at the thought of feeling like he's hugging you whenever you wear it.

You frantically try to explain with expressive hands. "Look, guys—"

"You're going this Saturday !!" Jisung's voice suddenly booms behind your back as he declares loudly like it's the most worth-knowing thing in the whole wide world. The guys trade confused look with each other, not knowing what nonsense their friend is babbling about. Whatever, they don't have to either way. "You're going, you're going, you're going !"

You look over at Hyunjin's cup in disbelief, completely full and untouched. Meanwhile, Felix has already finished his drink in between the 15-minute conversation. You blinks and quickly comprehends the new amount of information, you lost the bet. Which means...

Screw midterms.

four.

Screw the music festival, you’re not going anywhere.

“How’s this ?” Hyunjin steps out from his room with a white dress shirt tucked inside his skinny jeans. And you hate him even more now because your roommate looks totally #boyfriendmaterial in every outfit that he’s been trying for the past half an hour. Really, Hyunjin should give himself more credit for his looks because you bet girls would still throw themselves at him even if he showed up to school looking homeless and all.

You look up from your phone in boredom. “Looks good to me.”

Upon your flat reply, Hyunjin shoots you a glare. “Good ? It only stops there at ‘good’ ? Then which item in my closet appeals to you as ‘spectacular’ or ‘breathtaking’ ? Should I just hire a personal stylist or something ?” He wants to snap at you but ends up whining like a elementary school kid that’s not allowed to drink his favorite soda from the vending machine.

“Dude, eat a chill pill.” You frown slightly at his particularly dramatic ass ( tsk, drama majors ) and decide to put your phone down. “You’re going to a music festival, at uni. Not attending some kind of award shows for celebrities.”

Hyunjin snickers before clicking his tongue. “And you’re planning on wearing that ?”

Your roommate is stressing himself over being overdressed for an event. You, on the other hand, haven’t even made up your mind about an outfit yet and your plus-one is picking you up in less than 30 minutes. And you’re still here, on the couch, in your pyjamas. Call it madness but personally, you wouldn’t mind wearing this to the music festival. Music is technically art in some kind of shape or form and only uncultured swines judge those who prefer being comfy over fashionable.

Come on, it’s art. Your pyjamas can express yourself in some sort of way right ?

“Stop shitting on my Mickey Mouse sweatpants as if it’s something straight out of the 1910s.” You protest, urging to throw the jar filled with gummy bear on the coffee table at his precious face. Mickey is definitely not going anywhere since you guys have been bonding since middle school.

Hyunjin pauses in the middle of his track going back into his room. Suddenly he turns around and smiles at you creepily. “It’s Jisung, isn’t it ?”

Yeah, no. Most definitely not. Still not him. Nuh uh. Okay… Maybe it’s because you don’t want to embarrass your plus-one because he’s also a total heartthrob. Maybe, it could be something about the fact that you’re afraid you’re not gonna look as good as your roommate. Or maybe it’s something inside the can of Redbull that you downed last night while rewatching the last episode of ‘Goblin’. You don’t even like Redbull.

Shit, you’re running out of excuses already.

“Actually, I was thinking that it’d be better if I didn’t show up.” You confess timidly, scared to meet Hyunjin’s confused expression.

When you gather enough courage to look up, he looks absolutely unimpressed and partially disappointed. “And you’re just gonna rain-check on Choi Yeonjun like that ? Changbin’s not letting this slide, I’ll tell you that.” He shakes his head in disapproval, this time turning on his heels to walk towards his bedroom door.

Something inside your stomach is tickling, as if it’s trying to tell you that you’re about to commit some kind of unforgivable sin if you don’t go to the festival. And just when you’re about to ignore it and wrap yourself up warmly on the L-shaped couch like the lazy bum that you are, your phone buzzes.

[ 4:24pm ]

yeonjun | I’ll be there in five.

five.

Only losers go to a music festival without a plus-one.

Hyunjin is one lucky bastard because Seungmin is tolerating his ass for the day. Meanwhile, Woojin is too busy pestering Felix to let him sneak into backstage looking for Changbin. And by now, everyone probably knows that Minho is secretly obsessed with Jeongin since he's decided to stick himself to the youngest like the spoiled parasite that he is. But that's not the point. Point is : you're terrible at navigation so you're obligated to get yourself a plus-one.

And he just happens to be Choi Yeonjun, that one business major who's secretly a dancer that left everyone's wig flying to Africa during last year's prom. You two have walked past each other before between periods and since he's an acquaintance of Changbin, he'd always wave back at you with the sweetest smile. You see him as a fun person to be around, kinda like a sunshine.

But what you didn't know is that, if your group of friend's chaotic energy is 3000, then Yeonjun alone is already on another level.

"Why the long face Y/N ? Enjoy the music, relax, let the night set you free !" Yeonjun chuckles at the frown on your face as he swings an arm over your shoulder. You can already tell that he's getting a bit tipsy from his tinted red cheeks and his breath smells like beer. Never knew the guy couldn't go heavy with his alcohol. Much like your roommate himself.

You peel the red plastic cup away from his hand to abandon it on some random table, dragging him away from the bar before his friend - Beomgyu, offers him some kind of sketchy looking drink. The kid is only a freshman and you feel like you should strangle the person who permitted him to be the bartender for the night.

"Alright, that's enough beer for you." You tell him mild-seriously, partially because you don't want him to end up knocked out in the middle of nowhere and partially because you can't contain someone who's drunk, not even yourself. "Let's find Soobin, I bet he's running around campus looking for your ass."

"What do you mean he's looking for my ass ? He's at home playing stupid boardgames with stupid Taehyun." Yeonjun slurs, shaking the haziness away furiously before fluttering his eyes upwards. "Look !" He squeals a little bit too loudly for anyone's liking. "It's your boyfriend !"

You abruptly put your index finger on his lips. "Shh shhh ! Han Jisung is not my boyfriend ! Watch your mouth, please, I beg." You hush him and glance around to look for any signs of Hyunjin or Felix popping out from a random bush to make fun of you. "We're barely friends, why would you think that we're dating ?!" You cry dramatically, cheeks burning with a bright shade of pink.

The blue haired boy makes a thinking face, which you think it's undeniably cute, before pointing towards the stage. "Because he's looking at you ?" He says cluelessly, giggling while clapping happily like a seal.

You unconsciously lift your head to eye the stage. Time seems to stop when you realize Jisung has been staring at you all this time. His expression is unfathomable. Your heart starts thundering loudly inside your rib cage, so loud that it overcomes the loud EDM music in the background, so loud that you're afraid he might hear it even when he's so far away.

In this light, in the middle of your chaos, there is Jisung. And he's absolutely otherworldly, radiant, dazzling, coruscating. Gosh, you can go on forever if your brain cells allow you to.

The moment he breaks eye contact, that's when you're pondering over who is it that your heart is beating for. Han Jisung ? Or is it just J.One ? Because you've seen Jisung as a total pest who never takes things seriously, who always makes you pay an extra ticket for his ride to uni, who spontaneously sends you derp pictures of him in the middle of a lecture. But no matter where you go, he would constantly pop up inside your mind out of nowhere. Like a phantom.

Suddenly, Chan's voice booms through the speaker, making you jump. "The performance of 3racha will be delayed due to technical errors. We apologize for this inconvenience." You stand there dumbly, blinking numerous times for his words to sink in. The question here isn't really 'what?' but 'why?'. 3racha take music very seriously and they're not the type to slack off any performances even if it's just for a school's small event.

You snap your head back to the stage, Chan and Changbin are talking to a technical staff, an apologetic smile blooming on their faces. But wait, where the fuck is Jisung ?

"Told ya !" Yeonjun hiccups into your ear. "What kind of non-boyfriend will cancel a performance just to come and see you like this ?" You should have gone with Hyunjin, you really should.. You bet he's not even half as drunk a Yeonjun right now since all Seungmin drinks is kombucha.

Unexpectedly, and also expectedly, you find yourself staring at Jisung, who's speed-walking towards your direction, like a complete dumbass. There's fire flickering at the back of his irises, burning intensely onto you. His brows are knitted together, his jacket hanging slightly over his shoulder, teasing you with a flash of his biceps. You also notice how the microphone is still there, in his hand.

Did he fucking leave the stage just to see you ?

Jisung breathes out a puff of smoke from the chilly air. "Y/N, got you."

Your heart actually feels like it’s hanging on the edges when your name rolls off his tongue so tenderly. "And you are ?" He looks over at Yeonjun with an almost disgusted expression, his hand instinctively reaching for yours. You don't blame him either way because Yeonjun looks like he just made it out of one of the world's most traumatizing lunatic asylum with shitty security. And Jisung wouldn't let you walk around with a crazy guy attached to you like a total creep. Not when he's monitoring.

“Y/N’s plus-one ?”

“Well that makes two of us.”

Yeonjun holds his hands up as if he's being held at gunpoint. "Easy, dude, I'm leaving. I'm leaving. She's all yours." He laughs, sounding almost too nervous to be true because Jisung is somewhat scary whenever someone gets on his bad side. Just ask Highschool Hyunjin.

"You're wasted as fuck, what makes you think that I'll let you go home alone like this ?" You say, flinching slightly when you feel Jisung tightens his grip on your hand. He cocks a brow as if he's testing you.

"Nah, I'm not going anywhere. Just gonna swing by the bar, Beomgyu probably came up with something to knock me out." Without a proper goodbye nor a hug like his normally playful self usually does, the blue haired boy turns on his heels to walk away from the scene. And you exhale deeply out of relief, not because you hated Yeonjun's company, you might actually hang out with him again. Just not where there's alcohol.

Jisung still hasn't let go of your hand yet, and surprisingly, you don't want him to. "I take that as you two aren't dating ?" He questions, studying your features more closely. You're really pretty, he thinks. Jisung has never once hesitant about using the word 'pretty' for you and he's not afraid to show it either. It's just that you never bothered to notice.

"No ? Hyunjin decided to ditch me for Seungmin and Yeonjun's a mutual friend through Changbin so we texted, and he picked me up after when Hyunjin left." You give him a weird look, confused by how pissed off he looks right now. "And I take that as you're jealous ?"

Jisung laughs humorously, his voice doused in dry sarcasm. "Huh, funny. Last time I checked, you were supposed to be backstage with me since you lost the bet, not clinging yourself onto some hot guy from Changbin's Biochem 101." Of course Jisung is pissed off. How could he not when you're all smiling and laughing with another guy, when he has an arm over your shoulder, holding you so lovingly, so tightly ? Another guy that's not him.

You widen your eyes at how ridiculous he sounds, almost in disbelief. "Excuse you ? Since when 'being backstage with you' was even a thing in our bet ?" Yeah, completely unheard of. "And I was not clinging onto him, I'll have you know that he chugged on a bottle of Hennie and ended up wobbling around like a fucking toddler !"

Your voice is getting louder and louder by the second, chest heaving up and down in anger because he is in fact, being extra insufferable tonight. You haven’t seen him acting like this since he officially declared cold war with Hyunjin back in junior year highschool.

"Oh yeah ? Then what ? You liked that ? It makes me sick to the stomach seeing you giggling at one of his stupid jokes. You seemed so fucking comfortable even when he's this close ?" Jisung tugs in your arm to pull you closer, his cool breath fanning your forehead. Your cheeks unknowingly feel hot, but you're not going to admit it to his face. "You're completely okay with this ?"

You grimace a stiff smile. "Of course I am." Oh boy were you wrong.

"Even now ?" He places his hands over your shoulder to bend down, angling his face so that the tip of his nose is brushing over yours. His gaze pierces right through you, leaving you completely stripped and vulnerable. And you hate every single part of this. You hate how you heart is swelling, how his touches burn like fire, how much effect he has on you with such minimal effort.

Jisung says with a devilish smirk blooming on his lips. "Hmm ? I don't know Y/N, you look pretty burnt up to me."

"It's because of the heat—" You instantly regret what you said when it starts to rain. Droplets of water repeatedly tap against your skin like clear champagne. A cloud shadows over you two and another splatter of rain comes along. Goosebumps rise on your skin at the cool sensation as your limbs lock themselves in place. Jisung has never broken eye contact with yours since then, specks of good and silver floating in his eyes like a brilliant explosion of a supernova.

Just when you thought your lips was gonna collide, something unexpected happens. Jisung takes off his jacket and swings it over your shoulders. He gently holds you by the waist as he hurries you inside, your gaze never once leaves his features. He's saying something but you can't quite catch it, it's hard to concentrate when he's being all affectionate and sweet to you like this.

You are far too busy telling your heart not to explode.

six.

Felix stomps over to your table and slams his tray of food down aggressively. Everyone peels their eyes off what they’re doing for the time being, throwing a weird look towards him. With a satisfied smile on his face, Felix drops his notebook onto the table. Changbin glances at him with an expressionless face, almost yawned in boredom. “And how did it go again ?” He drawls tiredly as if he has heard the same joke over and over for an entire week.

“You know that feeling when you feel like you’re completely detached from your own body and just stare at yourself from above ? I was up there, mind blank while my mouth couldn’t stop blabbering about what ever the fuck was on those slides. I ditched my Flashcards, completely untouched, 5 minutes has never flown by so quick. Boom, the professor didn’t even think twice about giving me an A.” Felix leans back on his chair comfortably after wrapping up his story.

Seungmin scrunches his nose at his friend. “Yeah sure, it’s an A. Big fucking deal.” Kim Seungmin basically has a full scholarship straight to college in the middle of his senior highschool year, you can say that he has the right to be unimpressed.

Minho shrugs indifferently, scrolling through his feed to kill some time. “It is for Yongbok apparently, give him a break. You know he hardly gets any when his brain only consists of Seo Changbin and Fortnite.”

Felix hisses at the older boy like a cat when you accidentally step on its tail, threatening to gouge out one of his eyes with the plastic fork on his hand. Minho being on his ass 24/7 just makes college that much more of a hellhole. He can’t help but roll his eyes in annoyance because no one is even trying to spare a ‘Good job’ or ‘Good for you’. He might actually need new friends, Felix ponders.

But wait, something’s missing.

Jisung didn’t even try to make fun of him. And he never missed a single chance to pester him or call him out every time he’s all giddy over good grades. In other words, his secret life as a potential nerd has been foiled thanks to Han Jisung. But apparently, girls find it hot when a nerd is secretly a dancer.

He looks over to his friend and frowns furiously. A hood thrown over his head, eyes glued to his laptop screen, Jisung looks extra antisocial today and Felix can feel something’s off because he would be jumping around, yelling into your ears by now, not making a PowerPoint presentation. “What’s wrong with you two ?” He asks, noticing how you’re also acting strange.

You’re mindlessly scrolling through Twitter, and stop abruptly at a new post from @j.one. It’s a picture of Jisung grinning while gripping on a microphone followed by a caption “Always have so much fun performing w/ my bros, @spearB & @cb97 - photo by @princehwang #SocialSaturday”.

You almost snickered, feeling the need to change it into “#TBT”. Not only because this photo was taken months ago for a summer music festival nearby Uni, but also because this bright side of Han Jisung no longer exists. He hardly talked to you since Saturday, ignored you when you made eye-contact with him on the hallways, didn’t even ask you to pay for his ride.

Basically, he’s making a fuss out of nothing. But you wouldn’t say that it feels good not having him call you ‘little cub’ 50 times a day or send you random messages during a lecture like ‘go out with me ?’. You never take them seriously anyway because he can’t like you just like that, right ? “Ask him, not me.” You raise a brow towards Jisung, earning a glare from him as a reply. “I’m not the one who’s being petty over me going to a music festival with Choi Yeonjun.”

Jisung sighs dramatically and shuts his laptop close. “Is that all you got ?” He inquires sarcastically as if he’s gonna set you on fire if you dare to try him.

“That’s what I said the first time we played Mario Kart together, isn’t it ? I totally kicked your ass, to the curb.” You protest as the blood running through your veins slowly boils. If it weren’t for Hyunjin to hold your shoulders in place, you would have thrown hands at Jisung.

Jisung slams his hands onto the surface of the table harshly, almost knocked the whole table over. “Yeah, that’s why Chan never lets you drive because you’re exactly the reason for all of our wild turbulence. Because you suck at driving !”

You feel like you’re being held in a chokehold, literally and metaphorically because you can’t even drag Jisung down to the very bottom of Hell when you’re fully capable of doing that. Not before you kill him with your bare hands.

“I mean one of us had to have the guts to drive everyone back after a party where y’all got fucking wasted. College parties are so lit, they say. Who the fuck does three keg stands in a row just to run around the neighborhood shirtless later on ?!” You clatter loudly, earning a ‘wtf’ look from the students at the opposite table.

“Who wants another milkshake ? It’s on me.” Woojin interrupts the two of you, already pulling out his wallet in a rush.

Jisung’s ears automatically turn red, and you smirk at the sight of his pink cheeks upon both embarrassment and anger. “What did you just say ?”

“Ten milkshakes it is.” Chan drags Woojin out of his seat and the two of them helplessly walk towards the canteen cashier from across your table. He’s already given up, you can tell. Because if not, he would just personally hang Jisung upside down on a tree ( his natural habitat ) so that he can cool down before he said something he’d definitely regret later.

You push Hyunjin away and stand up right, staring at Jisung dead in the eye. “What’s wrong ? Cat got your tongue ?” Are you finally getting back at him ? Is this how victory taste like ?

“Say that again and I’m gonna— ugh ! Christ, I hate you !” Jisung sounds like he’s on the verge of exploding and you’re absolutely enjoying every single moment of this.

You mock him in amusement. “You’re gonna what ?”

“I’m gonna fucking kiss—“

Before Jisung could finish his sentence, Minho pulls his friend backwards and Jisung once again lands on his bottom, onto the wooden bench. “Okay, I don’t wanna ruin the heat but at least spare some of your sanity for the sake of publicity, yeah ? You know, if you guys wanna make out that bad, there’s always a restroom.”

Sanity ? For the sake of publicity ? Well, that changes everything. “WE’RE NOT GONNA MAKE OUT LEE MINHO YOU FUCKING BASTARD ! DON’T MAKE ME KNOCK KNOCK UPSIDE YOUR HEAD, YOU FILTHY PIECE OF SH-“ You’ve come to a decision that if Han Jisung doesn’t end up somewhere six feet under the ground, then Lee Minho - aka his best friend - is taking his bullet for today.

“Woah woah, Y/N, easy girl, easy.” Hyunjin holds you back with both hands. Okay, he gets why Jeongin doesn’t want to come over whenever you and Jisung are breathing in the same room now.

Jeongin scrunches his nose as he obnoxiously chews on his tuna sandwich. “Yeah, you guys need to cool down a little bit. You know, just chill out. That’s enough for your ‘friendly banter’, let the others enjoy their lunch in peace, will you ?”

You and Jisung continuously give each other death stares for the rest of your lunch break. Even when Chan and Woojin come rushing back with five cups of milkshakes each, even when it’s your favorite flavor in the entire world, it can never put out the fire of wrath that’s burning furiously deep inside. All you want to do is to have Han Jisung down on his knees and beg you for his life like how King Stefan did to Maleficent. The only difference is that Jisung actually doesn’t have a daughter.

Is that too much to ask for ?

seven.

[ 2:35pm ]

yeonjun | hey, I need to talk to you…

yeonjun | nearby café after school ? I can just wait if you’re getting out late.

You read the message on your way out of the lecture hall and widen your eyes. The hour displayed on your screen reads ‘3:45pm’. You immediately push your way through the crowd of sweaty students and run down the hallway like a psychopath. God, Yeonjun has been sitting alone at the café like a complete fool just because of you. Now you feel like a terrible human being.

“Woah, where are you going in such a hurry ?” Hyunjin yells at you loudly when you brush past him and Jeongin.

You hastily shout back at him before continuing to run. “Don’t wait for me ! Just spare me some left over !”

When you arrive at the café, you feel like you should give yourself a pat on the shoulder because you don't think you’ve ever run that fast before in your entire life. Not even for the marathon competitions during middle school.

And the café looks somewhat different today, something smells weird too, you notice. Then you realize that they just repainted the whole thing, replacing the old teal blue color into a warmer brownish color. The walls and windows are decorated with fairy lights, like a cherry on a sundae, it’s perfect for the upcoming winter break. Because students aren’t just gonna come here for the caffeine, they’re gonna hog this place for themselves sooner or later to get at least one aesthetic photo for the holiday.

You quickly spot Yeonjun sitting alone in the color while having his headphones on, slowly dozing off to the music. His cup of iced macchiato remains untouched with water dipping on the sides. A pang of guilt hits you almost instantly when you start walking towards his direction. As you sit down on the opposite seat, Yeonjun suddenly startles and shakes his sleepiness away.

“Hey, I’m so sorry, my phone was off all day.” You say with an apologetic smile on your face, feeling the guilt keeps piling onto your shoulders. “You could just leave or something, I wouldn’t be mad.”

Yeonjun removes his headphones and laughs slightly, scratching the nape of his neck. “It’s fine,” He waves his hands at you to tell you that everything’s okay. “I really need that short nap after all. God, I was dreading my neuroscience assignment all day. But hey, I really need to talk to you, that’s why I was so determined to wait.”

“Don’t even, Yeonjun. You could have just gone home and rest.” You shake your head at him in defeat. You swear to God, he’s too kind. “What’s so important that you wanted to talk to me so badly ?” You ask while flipping through the menu. The weather has been pretty chilly lately, it might be nice to have a hot chocolate.

Yeonjun’s ears turn red at your words and he starts to dart his eyes around, scared to meet your eyes. “I— uhm, look, I just—“ He stammers with tinted pink cheeks, which you find ridiculously adorable. “I just wanted to say sorry for what happened on Saturday.” He manages to squeak out and you have to hold back the urge to laugh. “I shouldn't have drunk that much beer, right ? You should feel lucky that I left you with your boyfriend because I may or may not have thrown up all over Beomgyu. He almost kicked me off a cliff, I’m not overexaggerating, I swear.”

That’s not true. Yeonjun should be the one who needs to feel lucky because not only didn’t Beomgyu leave him on some random sidewalks, he personally called Taehyun to bring him extra clothes and had an Uber to get them three back home before midnight. He knows Beomgyu is too utterly soft for him to murder him in his sleep anyway.

You smile at him before waving the waiter boy over to punch in your order. “Choi Yeonjun, it’s fine, really. You’re so much fun to hang around. But next time, no more beer for you, get it ?” Upon your teasing, he lets out a nervous chuckle. And little did you know, he’s planning on telling you something much, much more horrendous. “And how many times do I need to tell you that Jisung is not my boyfriend ?”

“Just not yet.” He corrects you, and you’re stuck between the ideas of strangling Han Jisung and throwing Choi Yeonjun off a cliff. Or maybe both. “You guys caused quite the scene during lunch break. You two bickered like an old married couple. Not to mention, you’ve probably ended up on everyone’s social medial by now.”

Your eyes widen in terror. A tape of you, and Han Jisung yelling at each other at the top of your lungs is on the Internet. Since a young age, you’ve come to realize that nothing on the internet ever really goes away. And that thought scares you shitless. Great, now everyone will think of you two as that one loud couple who always argue over stupid things. “I’m so fucking screwed— give me a sec, someone’s texting me.”

[ 4:12 pm ]

han | where are you ?

y/n | why would that matter ?

han | you’re on a date right ? with him.

y/n | han jisung are you watching me ? wtf you creep !?

[ 4:13pm ]

han | do you like him ?

han | just answer me honestly for once.

y/n | so you ARE jealous. hah, busted.

But wait, why would he be jealous ? That makes no sense.

[ 4:14pm ]

han | so what if i’m jealous ?

Your heart stops as a small ‘huh?’ escapes your lips. Yeonjun looks at you with a confused expression, almost develops a mild interest in what made you so flustered. But he guessed it either way because it’s too obvious who’s the only person that has this kind of effect on you.

han | i was the one who asked you out first, it’s not fair !

y/n | ...

y/n | hey, are you drunk ?

[ 4:15pm ]

han | i’m as sober as i can be, enjoy your pretty little date y/n.

When everything’s already a mess, when you’re at a loss for words, Hyunjin’s abrupt call is something else more than just fuel to the fire. “Y/N ! Have you seen Jisung ?” Your roommate sounds alarmed on the other end and your stomach automatically twists into a knot.

“No, I haven’t seen him since lunch… why ?” The uneasy feeling has been ghosting your gut since you received the questionable texts from Jisung, and you’re afraid to hear what Hyunjin’s gonna say next. “What’s wrong ? What happened to him ?” You bombard him with questions after questions, fiddling your fingers nervously in fear.

Yeonjun quickly senses something’s off and reaches his hand outwards. He places his hand over yours gently, rubbing little circles to remind you to calm down. There are a thousand bad scenarios running through your mind like lightning of what could have happened to Jisung. What if he’s about to do something stupid ? What if he’s hurting, and no one ever asked ? What if… it’s all because of you ?

“Hyunjin, just fucking answer me !” You almost snapped, finding the silence on the other line extremely disturbing.

He replies breathlessly, as if he’s already given up. “He’s gone.”

“What do you mean he’s gone ?” You can’t believe your own ears at this point.

Hyunjin sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. “Changbin said he hadn’t been home when his shift was supposed to end at 3. Chan said he wasn’t on campus either, nor the band room. We’ve checked everywhere, not his house, not the usual boba place, not even his favorite get-away spots. He ran away, Y/N, no one knows why. And I’m scared..” Your heart instantly drops to the pit of your stomach.

Not even his favorite get-away spots.. We’ve checked everywhere.

But Jisung would never tell them about all of his get-away spots.

eight.

Jisung unlocks his phone and sees several missed calls from his group of friends along with endless texts but his eyes only linger on some particular ones.

[ 7:23pm ]

y/n | can we just talk this out ?

y/n | this is so fucking childish of you.

y/n | I don’t care if you want to kick me out of your life.

y/n | I’m coming for you.

Jisung doesn’t know whether he should be crying or laughing. Basically, he’s emotionally restrained.

Because apparently, life is preposterous. One moment you’re laughing while being pissed off when he annoys the heck out of you. Then later you would ditch him to have yourself wrapped around another guy’s arms. Hours ago, you were on the edge of pushing his limits into the unknown and now you’re being all concerned and worried about him. He feels mildly exasperated partially because you’re playing with his heart, and partially because he allows you to do that.

He has been watching you from behind all this time. He always has so much on his mind that keeps him awake at nights but never really knows how to convey his feelings for you into words. Maybe that’s why J.One can only write love songs in vain. So being the genius person that he is, he thought ( and still think ) that the only way to approach you was to make fun of you. He can only call you questionable nicknames all day because he doesn’t have the heart to actually call you ‘babe’ in a genuine way. He would always end up spitting out something less than appropriate or stick his nose into your business because he can never fathom the courage to say a simple ‘I love you’. Yes, Jisung knows that he’s a coward for making such excuses but the thought of putting his heart into someone else’s hand scares him shitless. Not that he has never gone through a heartbreak before but the scars never really go away.

Honestly, Jisung has never thought that he would end up liking you this much. He still vividly remembers the day that you two met for the first time. It was freshman year highschool, he got signed up for a role in the drama club at the time being thanks to Hyunjin and suddenly he saw you sitting alone in a corner, struggling over a piece of prop for the set.

Even when it’s the awkward phase, you took his breath right away like ‘whoosh’, leaving him utterly speechless when your eyes collide. From then on, you’re the ‘nothing’ that people ask him about whenever he looks like he’s spacing out. You’re the only thing that keeps lingering in his mind, impossible to forget. He finally understands why people are always so giddy about their crush because once you like someone, everything changes. Like how your smile seems to be even brighter than the Sun, how your goofy laugh feels like music to his ears, or how every little thing that you do affects him way too damn much. Woah, he understands why his group of friends said that he’s so whipped for you now.

Jisung doesn’t know what to think or what to feel anymore. He really doesn’t. He hates how you keep switching between ‘the Y/N who hates Jisung with passion’ and ‘the Y/N who genuinely worries about Jisung’. It drives him nuts not knowing how you really feel about him. Jisung swipes his index finger upwards and presses the ‘Airplane Mode’ button from the Control Center settings. He can’t afford having Chan or Minho screaming directly at his ears after when he ran away like that. Maybe he is childish after all.

“Han Jisung !”

Jisung snaps his head backwards to find you standing there, disheveled hair, hands supporting on your knees with a glint of fierceness in your eyes. With the dim source of light from the Moon, you’re glowing under all of the sentimental glory that leaves him completely flustered. He’s really predictable, he thinks. Of course you’d know that he would end up choosing the park where he used to hang out with Seungmin since kindergarten. It’s also where he bawled his eyes out after his first breakup, having you rub little circles on his back and tell him that everything’s gonna be alright.

“What are you doing here ?” He asks soullessly although his heart his yelling at him to fall into your embrace.

“I told you, didn’t I ?” You say, breaths growing more even by the seconds. “I’m coming for you, I don’t care if you’re gonna kick me out of your life because I’m not allowing that.”

Jisung snickers, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “You rain-checked on Choi Yeonjun just like that ? Aren’t you afraid that he’s gonna break up with you tomorrow after finding you that you’re rummaging through the entire city to look for me, an absolute bastard who never leaves well enough alone ?”

You shoot him a stern look, brows slightly furrowed. “You didn’t let me finish, how rude. I’m trying to prove a point, don’t you see ? If I really didn’t give two fucks about you then why would I be here ? If I was really dating Choi Yeonjun then I could have just stayed at home and cuddled with him until Hyunjin kicked him out of our apartment. It’s been almost three hours, Jisung. Three fucking hours. I was running from place to place like a psychopath, got lost on some random streets, just to find you. Yes, just for you.”

He squints his eyes at you skeptically. “And your point is ?”

“I care about you.” You don’t even need to consider anything at this point and that has Jisung’s jaw dropped to the ground. “I could never hate you, even if I do, I can’t hate you for the rest of my life for my own good. Even when you call me ‘little cub’ fifty times a day, even when you make me pay for your ride, even when we almost threw hands at each other during lunch break, my feelings for you never change. Not even one bit.” You state confidently, taking long strides towards him.

Jisung looks at you with a blank expression, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t know Y/N. You’re a fucking hot mess. For all I know, you second-guessed most of your decisions in life. What if you decided to pull—“ That’s it, you’re not enduring his ‘what if’-s bullshit any longer.

Without a word, you grab Jisung by the collar and pull him flush against you. When your lips collide with his, it feels like you’re being sent to the Moon and back continuously. Sparks of joy, lust, and mixed emotions ignite inside his heart when you trace your tongue over his then it explodes like a firework that lights up the eerie darkness effortlessly. Jisung slowly gives in and melts into the kiss, his hands snaking around your waist to hold you closer, feeling your warmth radiating off on his flannels. You’re the first one to pull away, hands trailing behind the nape of his neck. “I can say that giving away my first kiss is enough to prove that the only thing I’ve never second-guessed was liking you.” You say breathlessly, trying to ignore the rouge on your cheeks.

“I am your first kiss ?” He widens his eyes slightly.

You scoff at him while trying to act casual. “Be grateful at least you brat.” Jisung chuckles softly at you, slightly taken aback at your bold action as the feeling of your lips on his chills him to the bones. “Point taken.” At that moment, you quickly realize how his warm brown eyes hold their own galaxy with the stars shining so brightly that makes your heart swell. At that moment, you also realize that Jisung is your Sun because his smile alone can light up the whole celestial sphere. Meanwhile you’re his Moon because no matter what happens, you’ll always be here to brighten him up on the darkest of days.

And you both know that as long as you have each other, you will forever be radiant.

935 notes · View notes

threeletterslife · 4 years ago

Text

Insurrection (It’s About Time)

→ [4/7] of the Glossary Series

→ summary: If you told Park Jimin he was going to fall in love with a young cult leader, he would've laughed. But honestly, who's laughing now??

→ pairing/rating: jimin x reader | PG-15

→ genre: 90% angst, 9.9% fluff, 0.1% crack | high school!au

→ warnings: death, mentions of suicide, academic dishonesty, cult-like activities, profanity, school threats (bombs & shootings)

→ wordcount: 18.3k

→ a/n: this is a story that is near and dear to my heart. it actually kind of hurt to write because a lot of these scenes are similar to my experiences or the experiences of loved ones. i’ve had this idea for almost two years now and i finally decided to write it out. i hope you enjoy (:

Jimin is punctual. In fact, he is on another level of punctuality. At any given event, he arrives at least fifteen minutes early. For what reason? His answer would be 'just in case.' There are a plethora of events that can go wrong, a multitude of catastrophes that can erupt in his face last-minutely. Jimin's not going to take any chances jeopardizing his own future.

Especially his future in education.

Much accordingly, since he is exceedingly punctual, Jimin can not—for the love of god—stand people who dilly dally. The atrocity of them to dare to be late and waste others' time!

This is the exact reason why he absolutely despises his calculus teacher.

I sacrificed my goddamn lunchtime studying for this exam. And now he decides to be late.

Jimin's hands shake violently as he brings up his notes to his face, eyes boring into the paper filled with equations and example problems. Hands clammy and sticking to the paper, he balances himself on the balls of his feet and rocks in an attempt to try to settle his spiked nerves.

This is definitely not a good way to start off finals weeks.

Jimin has exactly an 88.3% in AP Calculus BC, and a morbid B+ will do no good in his future—at least that's what the school propaganda and his parents say. He'll have to score extremely well on this fall semester's final exam, especially because his teacher refuses to round up the grades.

Goddamn. He's really late. Late to his own final.

Jimin starts biting his nails again. At this point, there isn't much nail to bite left, but he manages to gnaw at the skin around it. It's a small habit that goes far; he does it when he's nervous, but nail-biting always does such little to do away with his gargantuan amount of stress.

In frustration, Jimin lets out a massive sigh, clutching at his chest where his lungs threatened to collapse on him. His stomach feels tight and queasy, which doesn't have much to do with the fact that he hadn't eaten. He is just anxious. Unlike the others around him.

Next to Jimin, Jeon Jungkook, his friend, casually leans against the brick wall, eyes focused on his phone screen as he mumbles nasty profanities under his breath. "That's motherfucking right, die, bitches," he mutters. Jungkook moves his body along with the avatar inside his game. He's so into it that his eyes gleam when he reigns victorious. "Ha!" he screeches, throwing up his hands. "Fuck you, you cowards! I win!"

Jungkook finally looks up from his game and meets eyes with Jimin. He grins. "Hey, bro, wanna log on too?"

Jimin's mouth hangs open with a mixture of complete surprise and utter disapproval. "We have a final this period, Jungkook. Aren't you the tiniest bit worried?"

He regrets asking that because he knows the answer he's going to get.

"No, not really," Jungkook snorts. He looks back at his phone screen and hoots. "Fuck, yeah! He's not here yet! I think I can squeeze in another game."

If Jimin's parents knew that his friend—aside from his straight A's and musical accomplishments—played video games, namely Fortnite, to pass time, they'd probably transfer Jimin to another school. A school that could be worse than this one. Which might as well be a prison.

Jimin shakes his head, harshly gripping his notes and looking away from Jungkook. Jimin doesn't want to admit it, but he's jealous. While he's stuck having a mini internal breakdown over the teacher's tardiness, Jungkook's taking the extra leisure time to play some shitty mobile game.

It's unfair. Jungkook gets his straight A's without moving so much of a goddamn muscle. While Jimin, on the other hand, has to stay up until four in the morning every other day, studying or doing homework from the moment he's awake to the time he goes to bed. He will never understand why, despite his grueling efforts, that he has a fair share of B's in his transcript.

It's a shitty, unfair system. But then again, it was set up to be unfair, anyways. Here at Welton High School, every student has taken a rigorous entrance exam, of which only the top 25% scoring students are accepted. Every student is well above average—they are students from all over the world and have probably never heard the word 'average' spoken to them in their entire lives. Until they faced Welton, of course. Now of the top 25%, only 1% can truly be special.

Jimin sometimes thinks that when he was accepted to Welton, he must've been barely at the cut off line. He speculates that he must've been in the top 24.99%, and was very lucky that he wasn't waitlisted.

He worked twice as hard from freshman year until now, junior year, to be on level with the young, walking Einsteins of Welton. But no matter how hard Jimin tries, he has never been able to outsmart the intellectuals who were born to change the world with their IQ's alone.

Competition is way too fierce.

No, Jimin thinks. Competition is deadly.

And it is. Student suicides, school shooting threats (from the students), student protests... Teenagers crack under pressure. But what can Jimin do about it? The system's shitty, yes, but he has no choice but to follow it, or else the promise of a stable future goes down the drain and into the sewer. For that exact reason, Jimin studies like there's no tomorrow every day.

Wake up. Go to school. Eat. Study. Sleep (if he's lucky). Wake up (sometimes). And do it all over again.

So fine. Jimin's jealous of Jeon Jungkook. Because he doesn't seem to put in the effort for his perfect grades. And it irks Jimin. But it shouldn't. Jungkook's his friend, so Jimin should be happy for him.

It's hard though when the person you're closest to is so far beyond your league that you begin to think yourself inferior to them.

"Sorry, class!" Jimin's calc teacher huffs as he nearly spills over his coffee while skidding to a stop in front of the classroom door. "We've lost time for the final! Get in your seats, take out a pencil, eraser and graphing calculator! Be ready in your seats so I can pass out the exams!" he orders in a frenzy.

How can you be so irresponsible? Jimin thinks, glaring daggers at the back of his teacher's head.

He's almost blinded by rage until he realizes what he's really here for: to take the test. Right. His stomach flips at the thought. Jimin shoves his notes into his backpack, wincing when he hears some of the papers ripping.

Shit, this is the moment. He's been dreading this exact time for weeks now. Each step into the familiar class makes him feel like he's walking the plank, inching closer and closer to his impending doom.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Jimin feels a migraine creeping in already. I don't know if I can do this.

Next to him, Jungkook is still playing Fortnite. Jimin doesn't know if he should spitefully tell his friend to stop or to let him continue. God, it's not fair.

Jimin's teacher is all over the place, holding his cup of coffee while also carrying dozens of test booklets in the other hand. For a split second, Jimin wishes his teacher would spill his coffee on the tests. Maybe that would delay the final. Maybe Jimin would get his first stroke of good luck in the nearly three years of high school he had already faced.

But luck is not on Jimin's side today. It never was.

The test booklets make it out in perfect condition, and Jimin's slightest bit of hope is crushed when his teacher finally sets down his coffee on his desk.

"Get your tests! Come on, pick them up!" his teacher shrills. Jimin breathes in deeply. At this point, he's just going to accept his fate. He might as well accept a B+ in this class. God, I feel faint.

"Don't write on the test," the teacher continues. "The scratch paper is up here if you need it and—"

The loud, blaring fire alarm interrupts him. It echoes deafeningly through the class, the raucous noise piercing through Jimin's ears to such an extent that he covers them with his hands. Jimin shakes in his seat, making eye contact with Jungkook.

For once in his life, Jungkook looks confused in a class setting. 'What the fuck??" he mouths aggressively to Jimin.

What the fuck, indeed.

Sometimes, the administration liked to schedule secret fire drills to get the students and staff better prepared in case of a real emergency. But really, during finals week? When students are already nerve-wracked from exam season? God, they had no shame for fuck's sake.

Jimin's teacher sighs, running his fingers through his head of unkempt hair. "All sorts of things happening today," he mutters to himself. "Must be a mistake," he declares with an affirmative nod of the head. "Class, as I was saying before—"

"Holy fuck, the other classes are evacuating!" Jungkook shrieks, pointing out the classroom window. Sure enough, teachers are already herding their students outside to the evacuation areas on the soccer fields. "I don't think this is a dr—"

Before Jungkook finishes his sentence and the teacher disciplines him for his explicit choice of language, the intercom buzzes, momentarily halting the horrendous fire alarm. Everyone freezes and it goes completely silent. So silent that Jimin can hear his own heartbeat.

A loud crackle and another buzz ring from the intercom, then the principal begins to speak in a hurried voice: "This is not a drill. Please proceed to evacuate out of the buildings. Thank you."

The moment he finishes, the intercom crackles again and the fire alarm carries on.

Jimin's anxiety flies to the roof. Not a drill? What could've possibly happened?

His teacher looks almost as—or even more—shaken as Jimin and he yells panicked directions to the students. "I'll be the last one out! Meet me at our safety corner on the field!"

Jimin quickly finds Jungkook and the two of them walk side by side out of the building. As soon as Jimin can see the sky, he looks up instinctively to check for smoke. But there is none. In fact, the sky looks clearer than normal today.

"Do you even think there's a fire?" Jimin asks his friend. He almost lets out a scoff of disbelief when he sees Jungkook playing his mobile game again.

"No idea," Jungkook replies nonchalantly, jabbing at his screen with his thumb. "Don't think it's anything serious. Probably just a small fire in chem class. Nothing to worry about."

Jimin's still uneasy. "You don't think anyone's hurt, do you?"

At that, Jungkook hums, his forehead creasing slightly as he finally shuts off his phone and pockets it. "There's no ambulance," he points out. Jungkook turns to Jimin fully, grinning at him to Jimin's shock. "Loosen up, Jimin. This is junior year. We might have a chance at canceled finals because of this real evacuation! Now isn't that nice?"

"I guess..." Jimin mumbles. But I need the final to raise my grade...

It's strange to see his peers smiling and laughing as they walk side by side with their friends. It's almost as if the fire alarm isn't threateningly blaring in the background. Do none of them care that this could be a serious matter??

"By the looks of it, we're definitely going to skip the calc final today!" Jungkook shouts victoriously, pumping his fist in the air. "No more fucking math!"

"True..." Jimin admits nervously. "But he might have to take the final after school..." He's almost too embarrassed to say that he needs this final to raise his grade.

Jungkook snorts. "Welton's not allowed to keep us after school with such short notice," he says. "If things go right, we might not have finals for the rest of the day."

When Jungkook puts it that way, the thought sounds heavenly.

"Yo! Bros!" a familiar voice calls, breaking Jimin from his reverie. "Y'all okay? We could've literally died!"

It's Taehyung, Jimin's other friend. The only guy in the whole school who's unafraid to use the word 'y'all' and be judged for it.

"Man, I heard the girl's locker room caught on fire!" Taehyung announces.

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow. "Unless you were in there, how would you know?" he teases.

Jimin laughs as Taehyung huffs disapprovingly. "Some girls told me. I would never sneak in there," he pouts, crossing his arms.

"Really?" Jimin says. "How would the fire have started in there, though?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised to see what goes down in the girl's locker room," Jungkook says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"What went down so hard to cause a fire??" Jimin asks.

"Nah, don't believe him, Minnie," Taehyung laughs. "Jungkook probably sneaks in there from time to time to be a little perv."

Jungkook shrugs, unfazed by the accusation. He even plays along with it. "Well, I need something interesting to do in my high school career."

At that, Jimin and Taehyung shoot each other a look. Them and a majority of the students at Welton don't have enough hours in the day to study, let alone to seek for 'something interesting to do' in their high school careers. It's so like Jeon Jungkook, the genius, to say shit like this.

"Whatever, y'all," Taehyung says. "I don't even care what happened. We're still alive, you know? I'm just glad I'm missing out on that stupid physics final."

"Lucky," Jimin says. "I'm supposed to take that shit tomorrow."

"Uh, yeah, if there even is a tomorrow," Jungkook says, scrolling through his phone. Jimin thinks he's playing some mobile game again, but he soon realizes he's reading something. "It's not a fire in the girl's locker room after all..."

The three boys immediately stop walking, Taehyung and Jimin looking over Jungkook's shoulder to read what was on his screen. It's an email sent from the principal to all attending students and their guardians:

Dear Welton Community,

Today at approximately 12:48 pm, an unidentified caller phoned in a bomb threat to Welton High School. The caller stated seven pipe bombs had been planted on campus and were going to detonate in 25 minutes. The Police Department was called and immediately responded. Along with them, the School Administration decided to evacuate all buildings and bomb-sniffing dogs were called to search the entire school. When they have completed their search, I will send out another message to our community with the all-clear.

Thank you.

Bombs. Bombs?!?! Jimin panics again. Actual bombs! Seven pipe bombs could do serious damage—maybe even decimate half of the population of Welton High. What if they go off? Will this really be the end?

"Well, that explains the excessive amount of helicopters flying above us," Jungkook says, shrugging.

Before Jimin can shoot his friend a look of utter incredulity, he hears the sharp voice of his calc teacher. "Jimin! Jungkook! What are you doing out of line? I'm taking roll!"

"The Grinch is calling," Jungkook snickers. "We'll see you later," he tells Taehyung who salutes the two of you.

"See you guys," Taehyung says before sauntering off to his physics class.

"Text us!" Jimin calls.

Taehyung doesn't turn around but gives two big thumbs up indicating that he had heard Jimin.

Quickly, Jimin and Jungkook get in line while their dratted teacher takes roll. Once they see that their teacher isn't eagle-eyeing them, they slip out their phones, opening their group chat with Taehyung. It looks like Taehyung had already sent them multiple texts. All cries of pity.

Group: dead men + kook

[half-dead cowboy]: y'alls

[half-dead cowboy]: literally save me

[half-dead cowboy]: idk anyone in this class

[half-dead cowboy]: keep me entertained

[half-dead cowboy]: don't leave me hanging

[half-dead cowboy]: guyds

[half-dead cowboy]: guys*

[nO yOu]: serves u right for deciding to take physics ii lmfaoo

[half-dead cowboy]: shut up kook

[half-dead cowboy]: where's my boi minnie when i need him

[lil dead man]: Shit Tae I keep forgetting to tell you not to call me that

[half-dead cowboy]: you know why?

[half-dead cowboy]: because you not-so-secretly lobr it

[half-dead cowboy]: ugh

[half-dead cowboy]: love*

[nO yOu]: how did u even get in welton tae lmfao u can't even spell

[half-dead cowboy]: no

[half-dead cowboy]: i can SPELL i can't TYPE

[half-dead cowboy]: there's a difference you jerky

[half-dead cowboy]: ARE YOU KIDDING ME

[half-dead cowboy]: jerk********

[lil dead man]: AHAHAHAHAHAHAH

[nO yOu]: i feel quite honored to b called a jerky

[half-dead cowboy]: stfu

[nO yOu]: no for real bro

[nO yOu]: thank you

[lil dead man]: Back at it again with the sarcasm Kook

[lil dead man]: Anyways what's the girl's locker room like ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[half-dead cowboy]: not the lenny face

[half-dead cowboy]: please no

[nO yOu]: nO yOu

[lil dead man]: How long have you been waiting to say that

[nO yOu]: months

[nO yOu]: thanks for noticing. u my man

[nO yOu]: also if tae won't say anything bout the girl's locker room i will

[lil dead man]: What the fuck bro I thought you were joking when you say you knew the shit that went down????

[nO yOu]: lmfao i'm still jokin chillax minnie

[half-dead cowboy]: i hate you guys :((((((

[nO yOu]: damn that frowny face has 6 chins holy mothatruckafucka

[half-dead cowboy]: :(

[lil dead man]: That's more like it!!

[half-dead cowboy]: hold up hold up

[half-dead cowboy]: oh shoot y'all hearing this?

[nO yOu]: no?? we're texting? wE hAvE nO vOicE

[half-dead cowboy]: no you illiterate f*cks they just cleared the school the bomb threat as phony

[lil dead man]: Whew

[lil dead man]: I'm happy I won't blow up into smithereens but also pissed off as fuck that we'll have to live to take finals??

[nO yOu]: agreed, minnie

[nO yOu]: k but more importantly

[nO yOu]: tae did you just censor out a fucking cuss word

[half-dead cowboy]: i'm trying not to cuss as much anymore if you haven't noticed. but y'all make it f*cking hard. f*ck

[lil dead man]: We'Re sOrRy wE'Re bAd iNflUenCe

[half-dead cowboy]: :(((((((((((((((

[nO yOu]: 15 chins lets git itttt

[half-dead cowboy]: F*CK Y'ALL

It feels strange. The shortened school day had been so eventful... but also uneventful? Sure, there was a bomb threat, but it had been fake. Jimin thought a full-on Hollywood action scene would've commenced after the bombs detonated, but the bombs were never there in the first place. There weren't any finals either. All of them had been rescheduled to take next week, which was good news for most students.

It wasn't just good news, too. It was great news. Superb news. The best news students have gotten since they began attending Welton High School. Now, students are thanking the bomb threat for its rather impeccable timing. Some are even pissed that it hadn't happened earlier (so more finals could have been missed).

"We need to celebrate this once in a lifetime opportunity!" Taehyung announces as soon as the three boys are reunited. "It's not every day that a bomb threat cancels your finals!"

"We deserve a break, anyways," Jimin says. "I'm down. Kook?"

"Mm..." Jungkook makes an unintelligible sound at the back of his throat as he pauses his video game with the tap of his finger. "Sorry guys. Can't. Have to go somewhere."

"You?" Taehyung gasps dramatically. "Have plans?"

"And without us?" Jimin says, feigning a hurt expression. "Are you ditching us?"

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "No. I'm just... busy."

"Ha! Busy," Taehyung snorts. "Yeah, busy with that little sophomore girl you've been—cough—seeing."

"What the fuck," Jungkook scoffs. "How do you know about that?"

Taehyung opts not to answer the question, instead, he giggles. "It's a date, isn't it?" he sings.

Jungkook puffs out his cheeks in annoyance. "Fine," he says, slipping his phone inside his back pocket. "It's a date."

"Oh, we are so following you," Taehyung says.

"Don't you dar—"

"No, we're following you," Jimin grins.

"No, I swear to fucking g—"

Jimin and Taehyung are following Jungkook. The boy's surprisingly agile as he zig-zags around stumpy trees, tall bushes and overflowing trash cans. Sometimes, he quickly looks behind him as if to see if someone was trailing his back. Every time, Jimin's heart sinks with the fear of being caught, but Taehyung seems to love the thrill of the adrenaline rush.

At this rate, Jimin feels like an outlaw. But he's only just chasing his rather suspicious-looking friend. Or maybe he really wanted his relationship with the sophomore girl as a secret?

Or maybe there was no sophomore girl in the picture at all. Jimin's not too sure.

"It's as if he doesn't want anyone to know he's dating a teeny weeny 10th grader," Taehyung whispers, a mischievous grin stuck on his lips.

Yeah. If the girl exists. But Jimin doesn't say that. "I wonder who she is," he whispers back. "I mean, who on earth is worthy of dating our Kook?"

"My expectations for this girl are high," Taehyung snorts. "She better be the most intelligent girl I've ever—wait, what the fucK??"

The latter is more of a reaction. Taehyung grabs Jimin's arm, pulling him to take refuge behind a particularly bushy bush. He points at a rather unsettling scene unfolding before them.

Through the leaves of the shrub, Jimin can make out Jungkook, all right. There's also a girl—who might be a sophomore, standing confidently on a tree stump. Jimin doesn't even know if you go to Welton. But what makes the whole situation peculiar is that there are others—including Jungkook—gathered in this little half-forest clearing. And they're gathered around the tree stump in which the girl is standing on.

Jimin tries to make a rough estimate of the number of people—seemingly students because they're all wearing backpacks— in his head. Twelve? Maybe fifteen students? He's confused, furrowing his brows as he squints at them through the bush. "What's this shit for?" he whispers to Taehyung who looks equally confused.

"No idea," Taehyung mutters. "Looks like a cult," he snorts. "But it could be a stupid Fortnite club for all I know."

"I doubt that a club would meet at such a sketchy place," Jimin murmurs to himself.

There is something definitely fishy going on here...

Jungkook blends in way too easily in the crowd of supposed students. The only person that stands out is the girl. The one on the tree stump. She stands casually, favoring her left leg. She's petite, but her posture and stance emit an aura of valiance and authority. Her eyes seem to sparkle with determination and her lips are curled up in a happy smile. A... victorious smile.

"That's her!" Taehyung whispers aggressively. "The girl I've seen our Kook with! The little sophomore!"

Ah... She's a sophomore... Jimin nods, cocking his head as his eyes scan the group of students to see if he recognized anyone other than Jungkook. He sees a few seniors (that he can't quite remember the name of) and finds it weird that they're huddled below the sophomore girl as if waiting for her command.

Whoever she is, she's the leader. The president, maybe? Of whatever club this was? If it even was a club, that is.

Jimin's thoughts are proven when the girl clasps her hands together, taking a deep breath before bellowing out a "Thank you for coming!" She offers a friendly wave to everyone looking up to her (literally) in awe.

Jimin has never seen the genius himself, Jeon Jungkook, respecting an underclassman before. Even the seniors in the crowd look at the girl approvingly. As if she were a queen and not just the president of a small club.

The girl speaks again in her light, lilted voice, turning to a lanky boy with unkempt blonde hair covering his eyes. "Yoongs! Attendance, please?"

"Perfect attendance, Y/N!" the boy deemed as Yoongs reports back to the girl. He winks. And she—Y/N—blushes.

Jimin frowns. What was going on???

You giggle, looking fondly at Yoongs before returning your attention to the rest of the crowd. "So, our experiment worked as expected," you say, shrugging rather casually. "I did feel bad for wasting people's time..." you trail off, unsure.

Experiment? Jimin feels chills run down his spine when he realizes you probably mean the bomb threat.

"It was worth it, babe!" Yoongs calls from the group.

You smile. "It's always worth it," you reply. "I'll make today's meeting short for those of you working on college apps and the others of you participating in competitions."

You're so casual in the way you speak—as if the people you were looking over were your friends. But you're also entrancing. As if everyone else has to be silent to hear what great words you have to say. And apparently, you have a lot on your mind to share.

"As I always say," you start, "never waste your time on your grades. They don't define you. Nor will they shed a light on the person you are inside. Nevertheless, everyone here should have straight A's..." you smile, looking over at Yoongs. "A round of applause for Yoongi's excellent coding skills for which we would've never been able to pull this off without them!"

The crowd erupts in enthusiastic applause, leaving Yoongi beaming from his proud accomplishments.

You wait for the crowd to simmer down before speaking again. "We tricked and cheated the system," you admit. "You might have doubts about that. Morality and integrity may play into your thoughts. But," you take a dramatic pause, "how moral are grades, really? They're tools for adults, which is as far as it goes. Teachers corrupt the system, watch silently as all hell breaks loose from the intense student competition... They make it a game. They know you'll do anything to get the letter grade you want," you take a painful breath. "We're only fighting against something that is as equally as or more morally ambiguous. The world cares about you as a human. They won't care about a robot that spits out impeccable grades but has no soul, no passion, no life. They want you at your best—what you can do that will benefit others. We don't need to take part in something as trivial as our high school grades, do we?" you smile as the students around you cheer.

"Of course... college is a different story. Depending on the college you go, that is..." you trail off. "When you start to learn about things that you have a genuine interest in, that's when grades might matter. But for now, struggling this hard on obscure subjects that you'll never touch again after graduating from Welton? I say it's a good thing we're cheating the system. How great was the system anyway to have contributed to three student suicides in the last two years?"

There's a collective murmur as students nod their heads.

"A moment of silence for Heegyung, Bonsoo and Chaewoon, please," you say, voice barely above a whisper but everyone hears what you say and they all bow their heads down to obey. You, yourself, close your eyes. Your face is etched with pain and actual remorse, which makes Jimin feel a little guilty he wasn't truly mourning the students' deaths.

After a few minutes pass, you clear your throat, blinking your eyes open and waiting for the other students to look up at you again. "Ah, yes," you say. "Thank you for the short mourning period we were able to squeeze into this meeting... But now to get to the purpose of this gathering," you pause for a split second before continuing again. "The finals you will have to take next week shouldn't be as stressful as other school days. Apply our methods and you'll be fine. If you need extra help, text me as soon as possible." You pause again, but this time, it wasn't to gather your thoughts, it was to shift the mood of your speech. A bright grin settles on your face.

"Now, for the moment we've all been waiting for!" you exclaim. "Let's give a special round of applause for Jeon Jungkook and Min Yoongi for their collaboration on this excellent evacuation plan!"

The crowd does more than applaud. Students whoop, yell and chant their names. But Jimin's not in a celebratory mood.

Jungkook did what?? Jimin shoots Taehyung a panicked look. It was one thing to realize that this group of students probably somehow organized the bomb threat, but it was another thing to realize that Jungkook was a large part of it.

"It was extremely difficult to create an automated call that couldn't be traced—" you begin.

"Eh, it wasn't that bad," Yoongi shrugs nonchalantly. "Child's play."

You laugh, eyes twinkling as your turn to Yoongi. "Well, thank you," you say. "Ah, and as for Jungkook, thank you for volunteering to use your voice to record the bomb threat. It must've been so nerve-wracking."

Jungkook snorts, shaking his head. "All I really did was speak into a mic. And we totally distorted my voice. Severely fucked up the frequencies and all that."

Jimin's blood runs cold. He looks over at Taehyung with his eyes wide. His friend isn't faring any better with his jaw clenched and fists tightened.

"It took an immense amount of courage to sacrifice your voice for an experiment like this," you say, smiling down at the older boy. "Oh, yeah! How's your album going, by the way?"

Jungkook beams. "It's going great!" he says happily. "I've been having so much fuckin' time to work on it that the whole process has just been insanely smooth."

"Love that!" you say. "Productivity at its finest, right?"

Everyone nods eagerly.

"Well!" you sigh, placing both of your hands on your hips. "The meeting's officially over, now! Please text me your work progresses, guys. They're due before midnight. Thank you so much for coming!"

"Thank you for hosting it, babe!" Yoongi says, rushing over to help you off of the tree stump by offering his hand. You take it gladly, stepping back on the dirt ground.

You start waving at the students who begin to file out of the meeting place. When Jimin sees them start to move towards him and Taehyung, he grabs his friend's arm. "Shit, Tae, we've got to—"

"Hey, Jungkook?" you call. The boy turns around, looking at you expectantly. "Can you please tell your two friends that hiding behind a bush is quite ineffective?" You giggle when Jimin falls to the ground in shock. "Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung, was it?"

Jimin's in shell-shock, unable to move or dust off his pants. How the fuck did you—

"You can come out of hiding, you know," you reassure them with such a honey-like quality to your voice that it's almost impossible to resist. "We don't really bite," you giggle. "But... I mean, Yoongi might," you tease, earning a flirtatious shove from the boy.

At your invitation to quit hiding, Taehyung jumps out from behind the bush, dragging Jimin along with him. "Who the fuck are you and how do you know our names?!" Taehyung roars.

Guess he already gave up his no-cussing streak, Jimin sighs. But he's also glad that he's not the one who has to stand up for both of them.

"Don't be so rude, you ass," Jungkook scoffs. "Motherfucking stalkers. I told you not to follow me."

Stalkers?? We were just looking out for you! Jimin thinks. "We're sorry, Kook," he manages to say. "But you lied to us! And more importantly, you obviously haven't been telling us things."

Jimin's frankly hurt by his friend's lack of honesty, but it seems so that Taehyung is more vocal about it.

"Yeah, Jeon Jungkook, what the fuck?" Taehyung yells. "You're a cheater!" he accuses Jungkook, stepping closer and poking at his chest harshly with his pointer finger. "You're a fake! You're a bomb threatener!!"

"Wait a minute!" you cut in. "Let's not get into accusations like that so early. Jimin, Taehyung, I—"

"How do you know our fucking names?!" Taehyung screams. "We don't even know who you are, you cheater!!"

"Watch it," Yoongi says dangerously. He tries to take a step forward, but you stop him, placing a hand on his arm.

"I'm Y/N," you say. "We're all students of Welton, so there's no reason for the animosity. Besides, I memorized the yearbook." You shrug, but you gesture apologetically to Jimin and Taehyung. "I'm very sorry, but I didn't invite you two to join our little group for a major reason. Of course..." you trail off. "Now you have to join... For safety reasons."

"Little group?" Taehyung snorts. "Where did the specificity go?"

"Hmm," you hum. "What do you think about a school revolt?"

Jimin does not like the idea of a school revolt at all. It sounds stupid. Students would never be able to pull it off. Even Taehyung, who's usually more open-minded than Jimin, seems skeptical.

You ask Jimin and Taehyung to meet up in Panera, later that day with Jungkook, to discuss the specifics. By the time Jimin and Taehyung get there, you and Jungkook have already saved a corner spot in the cafe.

Jungkook's eating pieces of sourdough bread while you sip your frozen lemonade. It looks to Jimin and you and Jungkook are getting along as both of you gesture wildly as you speak. You even let out a large laugh after Jungkook says something funny.

Jimin feels weird interrupting the already happy conversation, but Taehyung seems to have no problem. Taehyung slides into the seat next to Jungkook, leaving Jimin to sit with you. Jimin suddenly feels very self-conscious about himself.

"Glad you two could make it!" you chirp, setting down your frozen lemonade. "Want anything to eat or drink? They have hibiscus lemonade here and it's literally amazing!"

"I'd rather you cut to the chase," Taehyung says, frowning as he folds his arms.

Jimin agrees with a short nod.

"Oh," you say, "sure!"

"You said something about a school revolt," Taehyung says. "Explain."

"God, would it kill you to say please?" Jungkook rolls his eyes. "She's doing you guys a fucking favor. Man, if Yoongi was here, he'd whoop your asses."

"It's fine, Jungkook," you say. "I get how confusing this can be... Our little group has one goal," you start. "I want to help struggling students. You know what Welton is... Ruthless competition. Kids cramming without actually understanding the material. Rote memorization... Wasting time by doing four pages worth of math homework every night... Way too specific reading quizzes that have nothing to do with the storyline of the novels..."

The more you talk, the more Jimin begins to relate.

"It's horrible," you sigh. "That they're making us become a servant to the school. They use the students to boost the credibility of the teachers. They thrive off of our hard work, you know."

"They're bitches," Jungkook snorts. "Never really care for us. Remember Chaewoon? He told his counselor about his suicidal thoughts and she didn't do shit. He might still be alive with us if the counselor cared."

You nod. "Yes, our mental support system at this school amongst the grown-ups is preposterous," you say. "There are too many problems with Welton. And I reach out to deserving students to offer them a solution."

"A solution?" Jimin mutters.

You turn to him, nodding politely. "Yes! A solution. Students have dreams, Jimin. Taehyung, don't you ever wish you could be putting in your time somewhere else instead of studying for a subject you don't care about?"

Taehyung nods. "Who doesn't wish that around here?"

"Exactly," you say. "I'm offering you, Tae, and Jimin a great chance to follow your dreams. High school is when you feel the spark growing inside you. The spark is an extracurricular or a hobby of some sort that you've always loved with your whole heart. You probably had to sacrifice a lot to join Welton's elite debate team, right Taehyung?"

"Never even liked debate that much," he answers. "I had to quit theater for that shit."

"And you couldn't do both because...?" you say.

"Because the debate coach told me theater would interfere with the debate practice schedules," Taehyung says. "And he said that debate is much more intellectual than theater. He said that I won't be able to balance my studies with both debate and theater."

"Exactly," you say. "It's utter bs, don't you think? Why do we have to sacrifice our hobbies, our passionate dreams to do what some adult tells us to do? You do realize that they put down the arts because they want their smartest students participating in their intellectual or STEM-related activities? The more intelligent students that are in these activities, the higher the school rating skyrockets. It's purely selfish reasons."

"That is utter bullshit," Taehyung scoffs. "You're right. That is pretty fucking selfish."

"Right," you say. "I want to teach you, Tae," you say, looking the boy dead in his eyes. "I'll take care of your grades. I'll teach you the best ways to get away with outsmarting the teacher. I'll plan class distractions—like today—and if things still don't go well, my boyfriend—you met Yoongi today, right?—can make a last-ditch effort to hack into the grades system and work his magic. You'll have extra time to do theater—at school and at other professional intern sites. How does that sound?"

"Fuck," Taehyung curses. "That sounds fucking great when you put it that way."

Jimin's not so sure. "What if someone snitches?"

You laugh. "Oh, they wouldn't," you say. "I have eyes and ears everywhere."

"She does," Jungkook says. "There's no one she doesn't know. C'mon she's the first sophomore Editor-in-Chief of the school newspaper. You'll be safe if you join."

"You're juniors as well," you say. "There's a lot of pressure to do perfectly in school now. And you'll be in college before you know it. I reckon that you want to know your ride-or-die interest before you attend university."

Jimin looks down at his hands. This is wrong, he tells himself. But it'll do so much good. Not moral good, of course. But still.

Taehyung already seems sold on the idea, a fast grin spreading across his face as he nods his head enthusiastically.

You notice Jimin's skeptical look. "Hey, I'm gonna run to the bathroom," you say. Jimin gets out of the seat to let you through, and as soon as you're out of sight, he collapses on the seat and groans.

"Great, she's fucking gone," Jimin says. "Tae, you can't possibly think this is a good idea."

"What do you mean? It's a fucking fantastic idea!" Taehyung says. "Dude, don't you understand? I'll get to do what I love without sacrificing my grades! Once in a lifetime opportunity, bro."

Jungkook snorts. "Yeah, well, I have my music and you have your acting shit, Taehyung, but Jimin doesn't know anything other than the pages of a stupid fucking textbook."

It hurts because it's brutally true. Jimin bites his lip and shakes his head.

"Fifteen people is awfully small for a cult," Jimin grumbles.

"It is not a cult," Jungkook argues, crossing his arms over his chest. "And no one knows how many students are actually involved except for Y/N. She figured it'll be safer that way."

"Bro, I'm in," Taehyung says. "I was in like seven minutes ago."

"Good choice, man," Jungkook says, slapping Taehyung's back approvingly. "And honestly? Jimin? You don't exactly have a choice. You have to join."

Jimin scoffs. "Why?"

"Because you know this group exists and it's likely you'd snitch on us if you don't get anything out of it," Jungkook says, raising an eyebrow at his friend. "Y/N's being really generous with you right now. You're basically going to freeload."

"Freeload?" Jimin says, glaring at the man with intense ferocity. "I didn't ask for any of this!"

"Hey, it's okay!" Taehyung says. "You can just find some hobby or something. So you're still following protocol."

"Um, easier said than done," Jimin mutters.

It's silent after that as Jimin sulks in his seat and Jungkook and Taehyung awkwardly watch him do so. You come back from the "bathroom" (you were gone for much longer, so Jimin suspects you were just giving them time to discuss) only to see the three boys sitting in complete silence.

You cock your head. "Everything all right?"

"Yeah, yeah!" Taehyung says. "It's final. Jimin and I are joining!"

"Great!" you say, smiling as you clasp your hands together. "Oh, you'll have to get started on your theater process right away," you tell Taehyung. "And Jimin, it's fine that you don't know what you like now. You can hang tight until you find something, all right?"

Jimin lets out a grumbling, "Yeah, sure."

"It's set, then!" you say, sipping your not-so-frozen lemonade drink. "Thank you, Jungkook. I owe you."

"No, it's fine, really," Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. "Just doing my job."

You smile at him fondly before turning to Jimin and Taehyung. "I'll text you the details pertaining to each of you, okay?" You glance down at your watch and gasp. "Oh, shoot, I'm late for my date! Um, I'll see you three at our next meeting? Or at school. Bye, guys!!" With that, you grab your drink and practically fly out of Panera, never looking back once.

Jimin and Taehyung are a bit dumbfounded.

"I gotta go work on producing my album," Jungkook says. "See you guys, too?"

"Yeah, duh," Taehyung grins as Jungkook slides out of the seat. "You basically saved our lives."

Jungkook snorts. "Sorry I didn't say anything about it earlier, by the way," he says. "We're not allowed to talk about it to anyone. Mostly because we don't really know who's involved."

"Nah, it's fine, man," Taehyung says, shaking his head. "At least we know now, right?"

Jimin stays quiet.

"Well, see you," Jungkook sighs as he glances at Jimin but doesn't say anything further. He leaves quickly.

"God, Jimin, he's your friend," Taehyung says as soon as Jungkook turns a corner and is no longer in view. "You shouldn't be that cold."

"Oh, really?" Jimin says. "He was living lavishly all this time and didn't bother saying anything!"

"He just said he didn't have a choice, Jimin!"

"God!" Jimin says, running his hand through his hair. "Now how are we any different from the motherfucking cheaters out there?"

Taehyung frowns. "I don't mind cheating. Y/N didn't even call it cheating. She called it 'outsmarting the teachers.' And besides, we have a reason for it too."

Jimin shrugs. "Yeah, whatever..."

"You'll come around," Taehyung smiles, shaking his head. "But what the heck do you think Jungkook meant by saying no one knows who's in the group??"

"No idea."

But it soon becomes quite obvious when Jungkook escorts Jimin and Taehyung to their first official meeting. Jimin and Taehyung gape as they realize no one they saw last time was here. You must hold several of the same meetings. All with different people.

Now it's for sure that nobody knows how many people are in the goddamn cult except for you. It dawns on Jimin that he's getting himself into something much, much larger than he had previously believed.

You've created quite an advanced system. So advanced that it took Jimin a while to get used to. It was a cheating plot so elaborate and well-planned that it almost didn't feel like cheating. Instead, it was like embarking on an evil heist in the adult world.

You had a master plan behind every single class in Welton. Jungkook said you harbored hundreds of paper documents (not digital, or they could be hacked) that had information about every teacher, every subject in the school. From there, you would investigate each subject and find the students who were genuinely interested in pursuing it in the future—the experts. Those students would then be in charge of making and organizing all of the class lecture notes; it would be their responsibility to fully learn the material and redistribute it to the other students who, more or less, didn't give two fucks about the class.

Homework was rotated amongst the "expert" students, and they'd send the other students the answers. (But, of course, there were always different versions of the homework so teachers would never suspect.)

Tests weren't a problem either. Somehow, you'd get a copy of every test or quiz before the exam date and distribute it to the experts. In a day's time, the rest of the students would obtain the answers (and work, if it was a math-based test). But to ensure that not everyone got the same exact score, you'd implemented quite a simple but complex system.

Test grades were higher for experts (especially experts who were able to make large progress on their personal projects). From there, the non-expert students were given scores solely based on how well they have updated their progress to you, and how much they have advanced in their extracurriculars.

The hardest questions on every exam were hand-picked by the experts themselves. And only the experts were allowed to answer the question correctly.

Essays were different. Not everyone read the given book, but the experts would always be ready for all kinds of topics—the holy grail was definitely the database of all past Welton essays that you handled yourself.

In that way, you had every single class in the whole school covered for the students in your group. (Which was ultimately a huge bummer for the students who had no idea of the behind-the-scenes 'outsmarting' that was going on.)

Jimin thinks the system is good. Could be better, but it works.

He's just pissed that he never has any progress to report back to you, so he always ends up scoring a high B on exams. It happens to be a pretty good deal, though, factoring in the fact that he didn't study for them. Scoring B+'s on exams was enough to keep his grades at an A.

But sometimes, it just feels wrong. Especially on his physics tests (where the class average is 60%, but he ends up with a raw score of 88% without having to put in the minimal effort). No matter how many times you call the action 'outsmarting the teachers,' Jimin thinks he's just plain cheating.

He's been wanting to report it for a while... Just because the little angel sitting by his shoulder is telling him that this is unfair to all the other students who were truly trying but weren't even getting close to the scores that Jimin was getting just by copying others' answers. Jimin remembers when he had been in that unfortunate position. When he'd watched students do suspiciously well on certain subjects while having time to do other activities, while he, himself, had to study for eight hours straight to get a C on the test.

But Jimin's not part of that unfortunate group of students. He's now pretty damn fortunate.

And he can't stay fortunate if he reports the cheating. Jimin's desperate. He's desperate to obtain decent grades without spilling countless tears and studying from early morning to the next morning after. It's the only reason that he hasn't reported your little group yet.

Besides, Taehyung is seemingly adapting better to this non-student-like lifestyle. He's already joined two theater productions and is applying to work as extras in films and such. And Jungkook's been continuing to work on his album too.

Jimin's friends seem to love being a part of the group.

Maybe Jimin's just salty because he hasn't found his passion yet. Though he doesn't know everyone in your little school cult, it seems like everyone involved in it has a passion, a dream they want to reach for, except for him.

A part of him wants to find a hobby just to say he has one when someone asks. But another, larger, part of him wants a hobby because of greed. Finding a passion and pursuing it meant Jimin would get a higher chance of getting better test grades for texting you about his progress. But Jimin can't just latch on to any existing hobby... He needs some advice.

Well, you'd told him that he should come to you if he needed advice... It's weird to think that he, a junior, has to ask advice from a sophomore. But maybe he's that desperate.

You're usually in your own little private newspaper office (as the Editor-in-Chief). So Jimin decides to give you a visit. But when he walks into the room after school, he sees you comforting a crying girl. Whether she's part of the cult is unclear, but Jimin immediately discerns her as one of those band girls—with frizzy hair, leggings and a boxy t-shirt. The girl's crying so hysterically that Jimin feels uncomfortable intruding. He leaves without another look.

Crying girls are not a good sign; he'll just come back tomorrow.

When tomorrow comes and Jimin walks into your private newspaper room, there is no crying girl to his relief. You're on your computer, probably reading or editing some student-written articles. Jimin feels awkward disrupting you being so focused on your work, but the longer time he spends just waiting for you to finish, the more time he wastes.

So: "Um, hi... Uh, Y/N?" Jimin says. He grabs a chair and pulls it up next to you.

"Oh! Jimin!" you greet him, turning from your computer to face the boy in front of you.

"I came yesterday," Jimin says, shrugging, "but you were busy with someone else... I came back today."

"Ah, you mean Chunseo," you say, nodding. "She was having a hard time yesterday."

Jimin's silent, waiting for you to elaborate, but you don't. It becomes quite clear to him that you don't like to talk about others behind their backs.

"So, what are you here for today?" you chirp. "Advice? Questions? I know everything must be new to you, so I just hope you feel comfortable with the whole system."

"Oh, uh..." Jimin would like to tell you that you're doing a great job and that everything's going fucking great, but that's unfortunately not what comes out of his mouth. "I still don't know what to pursue. I mean, I have so much extra time on my hands now, but I'm just spending it on my phone. My friends have been advancing in their passions, but I have nothing... I was just wondering if you could um, help me? Help me find a passion, maybe? I don't know."

"Hm," you say, looking thoughtfully at Jimin. "I can definitely help you with that..." you trail off, looking Jimin up and down and cocking your head. Jimin thinks you're analyzing him—not just his physical qualities but his personality as well. He feels almost vulnerable under your gaze.

"Have you ever had any hobbies, Jimin?" you ask him.

"That's the thing," he sighs. "No, I haven't."

He looks so miserable that you have to place a comforting hand on his arm. "Hey, it'll be fine, Jimin," you say. "I'm sure it'll come to you one day. A hobby isn't something you should necessarily force out of yourself. When you feel a connection with an activity—when you aren't exactly looking for one—then that meets you've found your hobby. And if you really love this hobby, then it can grow to be your passion. You just need to be patient. Don't worry," you smile, "you'll find something."

Jimin glances at your hand on his arm and then glances up at your face. God, you have a way with words. He feels much better, even though you didn't exactly offer him a cut-out solution.

"Thanks," he says. "I needed that."

"No problem, Jimin," you beam. "I know not having a personal project to work on leaves you with the lower grades, but you're probably only at the A- ranges, right? That's not too bad," you say. "Hm, how about this?"

Oh? It looks like you're going to offer him a plan. So Jimin scoots closer to you on his chair and listens intently for your next words.

"You're a junior, and before you know it, you'll have to write your college apps. Maybe instead of spending time on your phone, you can start with your college essays now? Is that all right to suggest?" you say, cautiously. "It never hurts to get a head start, you know."

You're right. Jimin should probably be productive, just like everyone else in the group. "Yeah," he says. "That's a good idea, actually."

"Great!" you say, clasping your hands together. "And I really appreciate you coming here to tell me the truth. You'd be surprised that a lot of others don't do the same as you."

"Oh..."

"Yeah," you giggle. "Hey, what about this? We'll compromise. I'll ask my boyfriend to change something for you as a thanks from me to you for being open and honest."

"Really??" Jimin says, his eyes growing wide and a small smile appearing on his face. "Thank you!"

You shake your head. "No problem, Jimin. Good luck on your college apps!" you call to him as he leaves the room.

"Thanks!"

Wow.

Jimin's heard a lot of great things about you from his friends, but now he realizes they really weren't kidding. You're a leader, all right. But a balanced one too.

Not only did you offer him emotional support with your words of affirmation but also you showed him a solution—at least a temporary solution to his problem. And you're also incredibly generous as well.

Hm. Now Jimin can't possibly think to report your little cult. Of course, it's still half wrong, what you're doing... But after talking to you, after receiving your feedback and help, there's no way Jimin would be able to double-cross you. As weird as it sounds, you kind of have a nice smile, and he doesn't want to cause you stress or grievances that you're actively trying to avoid with your group. In other words, he doesn't want to be the cause of your frowning.

Jimin's never seen you frown before, but he doesn't exactly want to see it in the future.

"Damn, I was such a bad procrastinator before joining the student group! The study group? The group? I don't even know what to call it," Taehyung laughs. He takes a large gulp of his boba drink and continues, "I feel like being a part of this community is improving my lifestyle. Like seriously, though. I haven't had a normal or healthy lifestyle since eighth grade!"

Jungkook nods vigorously. "Dude, I know! I've never been this productive before I met Y/N! Doesn't it feel so nice to be able to dedicate time to your strongest fucking passions?"

"Duh!" Taehyung says. "Man, what if this makes me peak in happiness in high school?"

Jungkook throws his head back to laugh, but Jimin doesn't find it so amusing.

Instead, he feels a bit left out. While his friends were diving deep into their passions, Jimin had yet to find a hobby. "Why doesn't the group have a name, anyway?" he asks. "Seems kind of inconvenient."

Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows at Jimin teasingly. "Because..." he trails off spookily. "A name can always be traced back to the source. Haven't you thought of that?"

"Apparently Y/N did," Taehyung snorts. "Sometimes I wonder how she's so big-brained. God has favorites, I'm telling you."

"She's a fucking legend," Jungkook says. "I would worship her if I wasn't so stubborn about holding onto my dignity."

Jimin laughs, nearly choking on a tapioca pearl doing so. "Too bad she has a boyfriend, huh?" he jokes. "Jungkook sounds like he'd totally hit her up."

"I do not!"

"Sure, bro," Taehyung snickers. "When you talk to her, your pupils dilate."

"They fucking don't!" Jungkook says. "I have my interests elsewhere. Thank you very much!"

"Another girl?" Jimin gasps, placing a hand to his chest in shock. "Who?"

"Not a fucking girl, you bimbo," Jungkook says exasperatedly. "My music! I have interests in music. You guys fucking suck."

Jimin and Taehyung spiral into a fit of laughter. And the teasing and back-and-forth passive-aggressive remarks continued until the boba cups were empty and the three friends realized they talked up enough of a storm.

It used to be rare to meet up like this—because Jimin and Taehyung would always be overwhelmed in schoolwork—but now that their academic life was taken care of by you, they've been able to give themselves healthy breaks.

Jimin feels refreshed albeit a bit tired after parting with his two friends. He decides to walk home because his mother would kill him if she had to pick him up from the boba place when he should be studying at home.

The outside air feels nice against his cheeks, and Jimin finds himself becoming much more attentive to his surroundings. Back when he was a full-time serious Welton student, he couldn't ever spare to look at the intricacies of the vicinity—he always had to jump straight to the point, skipping the little moments to shove his face into his textbooks. It's a nice change.

Jimin notices a whole bunch of stores and studios on his walk home and he takes the time to admire each logo and memorize each name.

Damn. I never even knew some of these places existed...

There's even a dance studio called Hart's Dance Studio that Jimin swears he's never seen. The logo is an eye-catching red with a silhouette of a ballerina jumping over the 'Dance.' Jimin finds himself staring at it. Then, his eyes gravitate to the glass walls where he can see the dancers just... dancing.

And a lot of them are good. Like dancing is as easy as walking to them. But an unmoving figure amongst the active dancers catches Jimin's eyes. When he squints to get a better look, he realizes the stationary figure is you.

You're furiously typing on a laptop, occasionally looking up to watch the dancers once in a while.

What are you doing there? From your skinny jeans and lace top, it doesn't quite look like you're there to dance. Maybe you have a sibling in dance class?

But then again, Jimin remembers that Jungkook had once told him in a hushed whisper that you are definitely an only child... only after you lost your older sister to suicide, that is.

So really, what are you doing there?

Jimin cocks his head at you but realizes how weird it is to stand in front of the studio and stare. So finally, he just walks away.

But you're quite the mysterious figure. You're the exact type of person who makes others want to get to know you. You have an open quality where everyone feels welcome to talk to you, but you're also enigmatic, refusing to tell people a lot about yourself. Jimin sometimes even wonders if he's ever seen you at school with the same friend group. It looks like you're always jumping around.

Maybe you don't like to get to know people in a deep way. It's possible that you're a fan of shallow relationships, which there is nothing wrong with, of course. But then again, you have a boyfriend, whom you seem to really like. You're very hard to crack.

And even when winter break comes, Jimin's still been wondering what you've been doing at the dance studio, typing on your laptop. He's run all kinds of scenarios in his head. Maybe your mom works there? Or your friend dances there? But something inside him tells him whatever reasons he came up with are incorrect.

Meanwhile, Jimin's still waiting to find a hobby. He's already been to Taehyung's play and listened to the rough draft of Jungkook's album. But nothing seems to give him the inspiration that he needs.

Jimin just decides to go on a walk. The cold winter air nips at his skin, so he tightens his coat around himself, breathing steadily as he looks around at his surroundings. It's then when he finds himself stopped in front of Hart's Dance Studio.

He walks a bit closer to get a better look into the glass windows. And he smiles when he sees you. There is no one else around you, but you don't seem to mind. This time, however, you're not vigorously typing on your keyboard. You're... dancing.

Jimin doesn't know what prompted him to enter the dance studio, but the next thing he knows, he's inside.

You don't see him because your eyes are closed. Jimin takes the time to notice that you're wearing a simple black outfit consisting of a tank top and leggings. Your feet are left completely bare.

But the strangest part—you're not dancing with music. It explains your rather awkward movements. As if you can see yourself dance freely in your head, but you can't quite execute it in reality. Still, no matter how awkward you look, you radiate a majestic aura. So much so that from far away, you could look like a professional dancer.

Jimin doesn't realize he's staring until you startle him.

"Hey! Jimin!" you say. Your eyes are bright and wide open now and you wave at Jimin, motioning him over to you. "Hi!"

"Hi," Jimin agrees as he walks closer to you. "I didn't know you danced. Is that your passion?"

"Oh, god no," you giggle, shaking your head. "God forbid, no. It's for this book I'm writing!"

It finally makes sense. She's part of the school newspaper, and I'd seen her typing on her laptop.

"What kind of book?" Jimin asks curiously as he sits down on one of the metal benches in the dance room.

You take a sip of water from your water bottle before smiling. "It's this fictional book about a broken dancer. I'm an aspiring author! I've really been trying to get into my character and experience dancing so I can write her more realistically!"

"Oh, wow," Jimin laughs. "That's dedication."

"It's what I do to try to get good content," you say. "How's your winter break been going, by the way?"

"Pretty uneventful," Jimin says, leaning back on the bench. "I wrote and rewrote five drafts of my college essays. I don't think writing's my thing."

You laugh. "Well, we can rule that out in the list of possible hobbies you can partake in."

"Yeah," Jimin agrees. "I'm still trying to find—but not actively look for—a hobby."

"It's hard," you shrug. "You shouldn't stress too much about it, Jimin. I'm telling you, it's gonna come. I can see you be so dedicated. You just have to wait until the time's right."

"Sometimes I feel like my time will never come," Jimin admits. "Taehyung's already been writing, directing and filming his own short film these days and Jungkook's adding four more tracks to his album. I don't know whether I should feel inspired or pressured."

You shake your head. "You need to get out of your competitive mindset, Jimin," you say. "Realize that you should be doing things on your own time. Everyone has different paces, you know. Maybe you should take your mind off of everything you've been thinking of these days. Wanna dance with me?"

Your question catches Jimin off guard. "Sorry, what?"

"Would you like to dance with me?" you repeat, giggling. "Sorry, it was kinda abrupt but my character needs to experience partner dancing and so do I to write that scene. I've already asked Yoongi, but he won't budge! That boy hates dancing! So maybe you can dance with me?"

"Uh," Jimin awkwardly fidgets his fingers. "I've never exactly danced before."

You snort. "Well, honestly me too. I suck. But whatever, you know? We're going to try."

"What kind of dance?" Jimin says. "I think the only dance steps I've ever learned were the square dancing steps from fourth grade."

"We could try waltzing," you say. "It's pretty simple, I think. C'mon!"

You drag Jimin to the dance floor, guiding his right hand to lay on your back and taking his left hand in yours. Jimin feels awkwardly close to you, but when you laugh and joke about how preposterous the two of you must look, he feels a little more comfortable.

"This might end up with me stepping on your feet constantly," you say apologetically, "but I'm trying to capture the feeling of dancing with a partner. So essentially, it's the emotions that count, not the physical steps."

Jimin laughs. "I'll try not to step on your feet."

"No way," you say. "How are you better at this than I am right now? I thought you said you didn't know how to dance!"

"I don't!" Jimin protests.

But something feels right. Something kind of clicks. And the moment Jimin parts from you and rushes home, he watches dance videos online. He finds out that there are many genres, and the ones he finds the most moving are contemporary and lyrical. There has never been something that has enamored him more.

Jimin irrevocably and quite willingly falls into the rabbit hole of dance.

It's been two weeks since Jimin danced a simple waltz with you at Hart's Dance Studio, but the time seems to have flown by too quickly. The next time Jimin passes by the studio, you're still trying to dance. And when he walks in to greet you, he's met by music. You're dancing to music this time!

"Hi, Y/N," Jimin speaks over the music, breaking you from your reverie.

"Oh, gosh! Jimin! Hi!" you say, immediately turning to pause the song. "Long time no see! How's school?"

"Great," he answers. "Um, just thought I would visit the studio. Do you still need a dancing partner?"

You grin. "Well, kind of," you say. "I need to see an amateur dancer do a little improv routine. Do you mind? I tried doing it myself and recording it, but it's just not fun seeing myself be a fool on camera."

Jimin laughs. "I don't mind at all."

You gesture to the dance floor. "It's all yours."

"Thank you."

Jimin stares curiously at the dance floor, the bright lights flooding the whole room. He feels like he's on stage, but he likes that feeling. He closes his eyes and sees the hundreds of dance videos he binge-watched every day for hours. And then he dances.

Somewhere along the way, you turned the music back on, which makes it even easier for Jimin to dance. He moves instinctively, fluidly like he's water. And he stops only when he finds himself out of breath.

Your jaw is dropped open when Jimin opens his eyes.

"Jimin!" you exclaim, hands thrown in the air. "You're a natural! How did you do that? What the heck??"

Jimin shrugs bashfully, shrugging. He doesn't mention the hours and hours of stretching and practicing he had done before coming here. There would've been no way he would have agreed to improv dance for you if he hadn't felt so confident. And it's funny. Dancing is the only thing Jimin's found in his life that makes him feel self-confident so far. He would've never expected it.

"You should enroll in this studio!" you say. "With some training... You could do great things, Jimin, I mean it!"

Jimin's not too sure about that. Yes, he likes to dance, and maybe it was a hobby. But enrolling in the studio meant full-time commitment. He isn't so sure if he is ready for that. He isn't sure his parents are ready for that.

"Okay," Jimin says. "I'll um, think about it." But not really.

It's like you can see right through his lie, though. "Oh, okay," you say. "Then maybe you can practice dancing in this studio by yourself. I'm friends with the owner so she lets me swing by whenever I want. Wanna meet here every Friday? I could use a beginning dancer like you to really write a story about a dancer's progression."

Jimin's face lights up. Getting to dance one day a week in an actual dance studio?? "Yeah, sure!" Jimin says. "I'd really love to." Now I have an excuse to go to the studio and dance.

This could be the start of something great.

The start of something great it was. Fridays quickly become Jimin's favorite day of the week. After school, he rushes to the studio to meet you and work on learning the basics of dance by watching tutorial videos on the internet. Usually, he works in silence—except for the clicking sounds of your laptop, but today, when he strides onto the dance floor, you're waiting for him in the middle.

"Do you have music requests?" you ask him, scrolling through your phone as if you are deep in thought. "I always feel like it's easier to express yourself with the music you actually like."

"Music?" Jimin frowns. "I, um, don't listen to music that much."

Your jaw drops. "What??"

"I don't even have earphones," he laughs awkwardly.

"You don't have what??"

And that was all it took for you to teach Jimin music for the whole day. You went through the hundreds of songs in your playlists, putting Jimin on the dance floor and making him dance to the songs he likes best. By the end of the session, Jimin still feels like he's soaring. His heart in his chest beats to the rhythm of the music. When he steps out of the dance studio and parts ways with you, he can't help but wish it were next Friday.

But at least he has a whole week to go music hunting. Jimin's never been much of a music man, but he's found that certain songs make him want to dance. He'll search them out and practice with them in the following days.

At school, Jimin feels like a mindless machine. He's still on the fence about cheating the system that's supposed to help him; the ethical part of Jimin wants him to stop—of course it's nothing against you. Jimin just thinks that if the system to help the students exists, every student should be involved. Even he was invited into the group much later (and technically, at first, he was forced to join for catching a meeting in progress).

Yet at the same time, Jimin owes it to you and your group that he's able to do what makes him happy. And he can't bear the thought of betraying you.

At home, Jimin lies on his bed, listening to all of the songs you showed him on repeat. His family doesn't have any music streaming services so he secretly started a three month free trial on iTunes. But he knew his parents wouldn't approve of his music taste (they usually don't approve of anything too teenager-y, so Jimin borrows his father's pair of earbuds.

Jimin didn't know, but earbuds bring a whole new dimension to music. He lies face up, closing his eyes as he pictures himself jumping, dancing, moving to the sweet rhythms of the songs. It's like he's been introduced to a whole new world.

Friday rolls around way too slowly for Jimin's taste, but when he's finally there, talking to you and dancing upon your request, it feels like he's on cloud nine. Today, you ask Jimin to describe what it feels to dance.

Jimin's not exactly very good with his words but he tries his best.

"I don't know," he says at first, blushing as he looks down at the brightly lit dance floor. "It makes me feel like... how do I say it? Like I'm just in a vast room with no one but myself? The moment I hear a good song, I just get this heavy gut feeling to move, I guess. And then I see the colors and the movements... And I dance."

"A vast room?" you say in awe as you unceasingly type across the expanse of your keyboard. "Elaborate, please."

"I guess it feels like I'm on my own stage. And it's a good thing because it feels like no one's watching me," Jimin says. "Uh, kinda like I'm dancing for myself. I'm dancing to express how I feel. And if there's someone watching, I don't really feel it because I'm so uh... I'm so..."

"Enraptured by your own world?" you finish for him.

"Exactly!"

You smile. "Thank you, Jimin! You meeting me here every Friday is so helpful. I really don't know how to thank you properly."

"Oh," Jimin shakes his head. "You've helped me so much already. There's nothing you could possibly do to help me better."

After exchanging a few more words with Jimin, you deem that you have to go home early to celebrate your mother's birthday. Jimin bids you farewell, but he remains in the studio. It feels empty without you, but it doesn't really matter. He's always by himself when he dances, anyway.

Jimin turns on his music, which echoes across the dance room, ringing against the walls and thumping in his chest. He can't stop himself from moving. His body twists graciously and he leaps across the dance floor as the synths in the song sing their melodious tones. He's so into the dance that he doesn't notice a tall woman watching him in the background.

Jimin finishes off his improv dance by striking a majestic pose he had come up with himself a few days ago. He didn't expect anyone to clap when he had finished, but there was this sharp-looking woman who was applauding and smiling at him approvingly.

"O-Oh," Jimin stutters. "I'm so sorry. Uh, Y/N left a bit earlier so I just thought it was okay to stay..."

"You're Jimin!" the lady says. "I'm Miss Hart. I run this dance studio. Y/N's told me how talented you are."

Jimin blushes. "I don't know about talented."

Miss Hart shakes her head, walking closer to Jimin in graceful strides akin to that of a ballerina. "I want to offer you a spot in my dance studio. This is a personal offer."

"I-I, uh," Jimin stutters. He's caught off guard by this sudden invitation and he looks left to right in a very panicked manner. "I-I don't think my parents will allow it... Um, sorry... I have to, um, go..."

He flees before Miss Hart can get another word out of him.

It's the sad truth. Jimin's parents would likely never approve of his current hobby—even listening to music while he studied was a stretch for them. But the more Jimin thinks about Miss Hart's offer, the more he realizes how great of an opportunity that is for him to progress in the path to find his true passion.

As nerve-wracking as is it, during dinner, Jimin asks his parents if it would be okay if he started taking dance lessons. Their reactions aren't as severe as he had expected, but his parents still seem pretty surprised.

"Isn't it too late to start something new?" his mother says. "You're a junior now, Jimin. You should already know what you're good at."

"I agree with your mother," his father says. "Why the sudden interest?"

"I don't know," Jimin answers truthfully. "It just happened. I really, really like it though..."

Jimin's father raises his eyebrows. "Really?" he sighs. "I don't think so, Jimin. Think about it. I know your grades are good right now, but now you should be busy with getting ready for college, shouldn't you?"

Jimin had expected this. "Oh..."

"And have you been taking my earbuds?" his father says.

"Oh, yeah... sorry," Jimin winces. "I'll give them back right now." He trudges up the stairs, feeling dejected and miserable at the same time. He decides to give the earbuds one last listen, plugging them into his phone and placing the buds in his ears. The familiar light-hearted, serene music floods into his head. Jimin can't help it. His eyes close, his mouth parts and he begins to move. His feet take him across his room, leaping over textbooks and dirty socks as his arms move fluidly to support his upper body.

Time has a mind of its own when Jimin enters the dancing world.

He doesn't notice an audience member at the entrance of his room. Jimin's father stares at his son, taken aback by the pure emotion and passion put into such a performance. He cannot hear Jimin's music, but he is able to feel it through Jimin's movements. Jimin's father watches the dance a bit longer, then leaves. When Jimin tries to return the earbuds to his father, he rejects them. "Keep the earbuds," he tells his son. "I don't need them anymore."

On Saturday morning, Jimin's surprised when his father calls him downstairs to talk. Truth be told, Jimin's a little nervous to have a serious one-on-one talk with his father. But his anxiousness melts away when his father asks:

"Have you been learning dance by yourself?"

Jimin perks up. "Uh, yeah! Um, well, kind of. I just saw YouTube videos... And I go to a dance studio every Friday with a friend to um, practice..."

"What studio?"

Jimin freezes. "H-Hart's dance studio?"

Jimin's father nods. "All right. Here's the deal. The moment your grades slip, you're going to have to quit, okay? Let's go enroll you right now."

Jimin almost faints from the sheer amount of happiness.

It is official. Jimin is to have private dance lessons (to make up for being such a late starter) once a week. This was a bit like a trial run; Jimin might get more lessons per week if he really decided to pursue dance.

And now that Jimin's actually a student at the studio, he can come in to practice anytime he wants! Which was every day after school for three hours.

When Jimin tells you the good news on Friday, you insist that you ditch today's dance-writing sessions and get some celebratory boba.

It's the first time Jimin's with you, alone, outside of school, without being in the confines of the dance studio. If he didn't know any better, this felt like more than two friends meeting up on a Friday afternoon. It felt like a date.

You're rather chatty with Jimin, making him feel comfortable and trying to get to know him better. But it comes to the point that Jimin wants to get to know you. So he finally asks the question he had been dying to know the answer to since he'd first met you in the dance studio.

"Do you mind if I ask what your book is about?"

"Oh, I don't mind at all!" you say, aggressively sipping your boba as you think. "Hm, okay, well, I kind of changed the plot halfway through... So now instead of a broken dancer, the story's about this newborn dancer who realizes her talents rather late in her life, but she throws all of her doubts—and others' doubts—away because she realizes if she's passionate about something, it doesn't really matter how long she's been pursuing it. What matters is that she is pursuing it in the present."

"Wow," Jimin breathes.

"Yeah," you giggle, tucking back a strand of your hair behind your ear. "It's a coming of age story. I want it to be heartbreaking, bittersweet and heart-wrenching." You sip your boba. "But I might have to rewrite a lot of scenes because I'm thinking about changing the gender of the main character from female to male. I think it feels more right."

"Oh, that's gonna be a lot of work," Jimin says.

"But it's going to be worth it."

Jimin nods. Of course it will be. You put your best effort into everything. "Do you know what your title is going to be yet?"

"Eh," you laugh, shrugging goofily. "I'll think of it one day."

The light-hearted conversation takes a twist as the outside of the boba place gets darker and the afternoon morphs into the night. Jimin finds himself talking about his personal struggles as an "average" Welton student. He reflects vocally upon the times in which he had to beg to receive an A in his classes. The times in which he despised himself and didn't understand the exact point of life. The times when he was existing and not living.

It's then when you reveal your own darkest moments. And what lies beneath the smiling curtains was a murky past.

Your freshman year at Welton hit you like a bomb—it was the same year that Jimin had been suffering in the depths of sophomore year's turmoil. You became miserable, competing for first place in your classes in subject matters that you had no interest in. The tests contained little material about understanding and more about the nitty-gritty details (that were barely significant). You used to write your stories the moment you came home from school until you had to go to bed. But now, you would be lucky if you could even get a few paragraphs down before being pressured into studying something tediously and frankly, useless. It drove you nuts.

To the point that you were tempted to be pulled under into the dark world of self-hatred and suicidal thoughts. Your older sister had jumped off a building when you were only eight; you watched her stuck in a coma in the hospital with twelve broken bones until she died in her sleep. So you figured if your sister did it, so could you.

But slowly, gradually, rationality took charge of your head, driving out the demons. You garnered your anger and self-hatred towards Welton and not yourself. And during the last few weeks of school in your freshman year, you decided that you were going to make a system to help every student in need—for those with big dreams but little time.

Jimin watches and listens in awe as you continue to tell your story.

"I met Yoongi in freshman year when I was interviewing him for winning first place in a tech comp so I could write about him in the school newspaper," you explain. "He was the first person I told my idea to. And then from the summer between freshman and sophomore year, I planned the whole system. Yoongi assisted me a bit, too, but I didn't want him to be burdened."

Or, Jimin thinks, you don't trust other people.

"Yeah, and then we really kicked off," you say.

"Wait, you and Yoongi? Or the whole system you created?"

"Both," you grin. "Yoongi and I started dating during the summer. And as you can tell, our whole group flourished too. Now you're here!"

"The group's relatively new then," Jimin says. "So um, I don't know if I can ask but, how many people are really involved?"

You smile, shaking your head and denying Jimin an answer. "The trick that I use to run this system is to never trust anyone."

"Oh... wow. Not even your boyfriend?"

"Oh, it's the people you're closest to that end up failing you. Just ask my sister," you shrug. "And you never know. You aren't still thinking of reporting me, are you? I know you were contemplating that for a while..."

"O-Oh!" Jimin stutters. "Oh, shit. No, uh, definitely no. Not anymore. God, I didn't know you knew. I'm sorry."

"It's really no matter," you tell him, giving him a reassuring smile. "I think it was really nice talking to you. When we usually meet up, you're dancing and I'm taking notes or writing so this is a really nice change."

"Yeah," Jimin agrees. "I had a lot of fun, getting to know you." He glances at his watch for a split second and his eyes turn huge. "Shit, Y/N, it's almost 10 p.m.!"

That's when Jimin's able to notice that there is no one else in the boba place except you and him. The store must be closing soon. And the outside is nearly pitch black.

"Oh, wow, we've been talking for a long time," you laugh. "I guess that means we'll have to leave, huh?"

Jimin wants to be in your company for longer, but he nods, agreeing with you. "Yeah, I guess," he says. "I'll see you on Monday?"

You nod, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Goodnight, then, Jimin."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

Jimin's now been getting dance lessons three times a week now, and according to Miss Hart, he's improving at an alarming rate. Miss Hart proudly tells Jimin and his parents that he would be able to compete in local dance comps in three months and easily place.

"The boy's born to dance," Jimin overhears his teacher tell his father. He repeats those words over and over again to himself until he falls asleep that night.

His parents took his success in dance a whole different way. Immediately, Jimin was to train his muscles and stretch every day to accommodate three days' worth of hardcore lessons. And he was also ordered to join the school dance team—even though Jimin tried to tell his parents that tryouts had already been held ages ago.

But when Jimin expresses his problems to you, you bring a solution the very next day. Apparently, you had some inside sources in the dance team; you just had to pull a few strings, and the next thing he knew, Jimin was in Welton's elite dance team.

For the first time in the cult, no, group meetings, Jimin has something to show. He's able to track his progress by videos and live performances that you watch on Fridays. With all the advancement in his newfound passion, you reward Jimin with the second-highest scores on every exam (because the highest scores were reserved for the "experts").

Jimin's now sitting at the peak of a figurative mountain. His grades are soaring. His passion is soaring. He feels like his whole life has become a never-ending, high-velocity dance.

And he loves it.

There are no more meetings left after this one, you explain to all of the students. It's the last meeting for it's the week before finals. The school year will end soon, which is a huge relief to every Welton student.

You claim that outsmarting the teachers with the finals would be easy, especially with your advanced system, so there was really no need to worry. The meeting is short, concise and sweet. You douse everyone with your love and passion and thoroughly thank each and every individual for allowing another wonderful school year.

The meeting ends on a great note. You tell everyone that you have great plans for next year. Something that'll top the bomb threat. Something that'll effectively help the students and put the teachers and administrative staff to shame.

Everybody is excited.

The first time Jimin meets you during the summer is in the dance studio. He'd dressed in his workout clothes but still had enough self-dignity to spritz some cologne and put on some deodorant before seeing you.

But when he walks into the studio, he finds that you're not alone—you're with your boyfriend. Laughing. Joking. Touching. Yoongi has his arm around you and you have a casual hand placed on his thigh, leaning into him as you talk animatedly to your boyfriend.

Yikes. Jimin thinks it's going to be awkward before he actually feels awkward.

You and Yoongi really seem to like the time you're spending together and Jimin doesn't exactly want to interrupt. And there's something about the way that Yoongi tugs you closer and looks at you with sparkling mirth in his eyes that sets Jimin off.

He quickly recognizes the feeling as jealousy. It confuses Jimin even more.

Oh, fuck it.

"Hi, Y/N!" he says, waving at you. "Hey, Yoongi."

You stand up immediately rushing to greet Jimin as Yoongi stays in his spot, nodding his salutations to Jimin. "Yoongi just wanted to know what I was doing every Friday after I said no to a fifth Friday night date," you giggle. "Is it okay if he joins us today?"

"Of course," Jimin says. "I don't mind."

I kind of do.

Meeting at the dance studio was an activity exclusive to you and Jimin only... It's weird to see Yoongi butt in.

"Okay, great. Thanks!" you say. "Just do your thing, and I'll be taking notes as usual!"

Jimin nods, bracing himself to dance after he turns on the song he'd been listening endlessly these days. But today, he feels stiff. Rigid. Something's not quite right.

Today, he doesn't feel like he's on a stage alone. He feels someone watching him from the audience with scrutiny. Suddenly, Jimin can't move. He feels trapped in his own world. When he turns to look at you, he finds that you and Yoongi are immersed in a deep conversation. You're usually watching his every move.

Jimin tries to focus again, closing his eyes to immerse himself into the music. But he can't do it. Not when you and Yoongi are talking like that. Shit. Why is that so distracting?

Jimin figures one day of giving up practice wouldn't kill him. He turns off the music and walks over to you and Yoongi and plops down on the bench.

You smile but Jimin watches as Yoongi flinches just slightly, and a disgruntled look flashes across his face just briefly. Jimin ignores him.

"Yoongi and I were just talking about legacy," you explain to Jimin. "You know, what we'll leave at Welton High School."

"Oh, wow. You'll be leaving a whole elaborate system," Jimin says. "But what's going to happen to it when you've graduated?"

You shrug. "We'll have to wait and see," you say teasingly.

"I'll already be gone by that time," Jimin huffs.

"We'll keep in contact," you say. "I promise."

It's a small promise but Jimin's heart skips a beat. He wonders if you'd still be dating Yoongi then.

Why am I like this? This definitely isn't the right time.

Maybe Yoongi senses Jimin's thoughts because he tugs you closer to him. "Come on, babe, do we have to stay here forever? I want to take you out on a date..."

"Aw, Yoongs," you coo. "I don't know... Maybe the three of us can go get boba or something?"

"Babe..." Yoongi whines softly, intertwining your hand with his.

Jimin watches the movement and another pang of jealousy hits his chest, this time larger than the last. He couldn't possibly have feelings for you. Jimin concludes that he's not jealous because Yoongi is your boyfriend, he is jealous because he's stealing you away when he and you should be hanging out.

But he doesn't exactly want to get in the way of Yoongi, who already seems to dislike Jimin for hanging around his girlfriend.

So Jimin shrugs. "I don't want to intrude on a date. It's fine, Y/N, enjoy your date night."

Yoongi shoots Jimin a grateful look and even lets out a beaming smile. "Really, Jimin? Thanks!" you say.

Jimin has to admit, seeing you skip away with Yoongi arm in arm makes him happier. Fuck, no. He's starting to mirror your emotions.

This isn't a very good sign.

Jimin's right. It isn't a very good sign. He's starting to feel weird around you—emotions that he can't quite explain or justify with words.

The more he hangs out with you, the more he notices little things about you—your little habits, your speech patterns, your dimples when you smile...

It comes to the point, you confess to him one day, "You know, Jimin, I've been hanging out with you more than my boyfriend."

Jimin feels honored by that, "Well, I've been hanging out with you more than my own to friends."

And it's true. Taehyung's been busy with his theater things and has picked up a girl along the way—the girl who was notorious for spilling tears arbitrarily. Jungkook's got his eye on some shy girl Jimin doesn't really know. So the friend group's already pretty split up. But Jimin doesn't really mind as much as he should. He and his friends are happy and have split to pursue their interests. There are no regrets.

Sometimes, when Jimin notices the blush on your cheeks after he teases you, he wonders how you truly feel about him. If all the time you spent around him was doing any good.

"I guess we've become quite the team?" you smile, nudging Jimin's shoulder. "I would've never been able to come up with a revamped idea for my book without you."

"I don't think I would've come this far in dance without you."

"No, it's your pure talent," you say. "I didn't do anything." You giggle, admiring the ruffles on Jimin's dance costume. "Break a leg out there, Jimin. I know you'll kill it in the solo division."

"Thanks, Y/N. I swear, I'm not even that nervous."

That's a lie. Jimin's so nervous he's been feeling like he needed to use the bathroom for two hours now. What if I forget a step? What if I'm offbeat for a split second? What if I trip on my costume? What if the wrong song plays?

There's absolutely no pressure that you've offered to come to watch Jimin dance to write about a dance competition in your book. Jimin has to get his routine down perfectly unless he wants to wind up embarrassing himself and disappointing his eager parents. He needs to be perfect. Maybe to impress you.

But this will be the first time that Jimin will be on stage with a true audience. Even though he will dance like he's the only one in the world, he will have hundreds of watchers and a panel of judges who will scrutinize his every move.

Jimin tugs at the ruffles of his white blouse and looks to the stage nervously.

"Hey, you've got this," you whisper to him, patting his shoulder. "What matters is dancing. It doesn't matter what place you get."

You're right. Jimin's here to dance. He is not here to flaunt his talents to others; he is here to make his own progress for himself, for his passion. What matters is that he has fun on stage.

Jimin keeps that in mind when he walks on the platform. The lights shine down on him, and his ears ring incessantly. But as soon as the cello begins to let out its low, elegant sound, he dances. The music envelops his body, and he sees nothing but colors. There is no need to think of which step is next when it comes to him naturally. He twists and turns accordingly to the rueful tones of the oboe, leaps at the entrance of the violins and finishes the dance with a grand pose in the middle of the stage.

He doesn't hear the clapping when he shakily gets off the platform.

Jimin's numb. He can't remember the performance, nor can he remember if he had gotten all of his steps right. But when you lunge at him with open arms and a bouquet of flowers (that you hadn't had before) in your hands, none of his performance matters anymore.

"JIMIN!" you screech at him, almost knocking him over with the force of your hug. "YOU WERE AMAZING!"

He's so taken aback, he can't answer, just holding you to his chest as you laugh happily in his arms.

"I hope you don't mind that I recorded the performance," you tell him. "It was just... wow. I can't even think of words to describe it because... wow."

Jimin pulls away from you, grinning wildly and his heart thumping in his chest—from post-dancing or from hugging you, he doesn't really know.

"Was it that good?"

"Yes!" you say. "Come on, we just have to wait to see how you placed. Not that it matters."

And it really didn't. Even though Jimin took home silver, otherwise known as second place, everyone—his parents, Miss Hart, you—was proud of him. No one could argue that his dancing was the most emotional—the most beautiful. The dance competition was only the beginning of Jimin's journey.

Now it's even more normal for you and him to hang out. Even outside the dance studio to just talk and keep each other's company. Anyone can find you typing on your laptop and Jimin dancing and think it's a normal occurrence. Especially with the two of you on summer break, it became insanely frequent to spend a whole day out together.

Sometimes it seems as though you're flirting with him, but Jimin just tells himself that it's his imagination. You have Yoongi, for fuck's sake. You would never go after Jimin because you've said it yourself—you and he are best friends.

Yet it's socially unacceptable, apparently, to only be friends with the opposite gender (especially a younger opposite gender in Jimin's case) and expect the relationship to be purely platonic. Jimin's been noticing you stealing a couple of extra glances at him when he stretches before he dances. And he's been guilty of staring at you when you write because he likes how focused you can get in your typing sprees.

A couple of times, Jimin swears he could've leaned in to kiss you. But being rejected scares him away to ever take the chance. Besides, he doesn't want to come between you and Yoongi. That would be unfair and immature of him.

God, Jimin's mind is mixed up and his feelings are confused. He's not ready to admit it to himself yet, though. So he stays confused until a new school year comes around.

Being a senior opens up Jimin's eyes, and he realizes he had been just plain stupid—and blind. He likes you.

Fuck.

It's not a question of when these feelings had developed, but a question of why. You have a boyfriend. Jimin's already a senior, which means he'll be gone next year. You're the leader of a group—that's practically a cult, according to Google—and you keep secrets from everyone no matter how much you love them. It's just not going to happen.

And if it did happen, then what about Yoongi? He's an essential member of your group. If you break up with him to be with Jimin, assuming that you even feel the same way, then what might Yoongi do? Would he ditch your group and let it fall to the ground? Would he report you and your system to administration? Would he get revenge on Jimin?

No way is Jimin going to get involved.

He should've seen it coming. He should've prevented himself from completely falling for you the moment you started caring for him, hanging out with him, helping him... But he didn't and now he doesn't know what to do.

Well, actually, he does.

Jimin's just going to simply get rid of his feelings for you for his own sake and yours. He just won't see you for a couple of months, and by then, his feelings for you would be gone, vanished into thin air. At least, that's what he hopes.

So, Jimin creates an elaborate plan of his own to avoid you for several months, max. He secretly changes his dance lesson times and tells Miss Hart to keep his schedule from you. And when his teacher inquires why, Jimin makes up a bullshitted lie that he wants to surprise you with his next performance. Then, he skips all of his individual practices and dances at home instead so you won't be able to find him. He even misses scheduled group meetings, texting you that he was sick (when he was only lovesick).

She's just using me to write her story, Jimin tells himself. I'm nothing but a character for her.

Deep down inside, Jimin knows that's false, but he makes himself believe it. Maybe it'll help him dislike you—which isn't exactly possible—but it could at least help him stop liking you.

But it turns out that maybe you never liked Jimin the way he liked you. All too soon, Jimin finds out from Miss Hart that you haven't been coming to the dance studio, so he switches his lessons back to his normal time. You've stopped texting him about coming to group meetings too. Which was strange because Jimin was still given homework copies and test answers when he needed them.

Maybe you took the hint that Jimin didn't want anything to do with you? Jimin doesn't know.

He does know that still, every time he thinks of you, he thinks of a generous, beautiful, mature, thoughtful person who chases after her own dreams and encourages others to do the same. It's hard to stop liking you, in other words.

Already, finals week is around the corner. Jimin has a few suspicions that you're going to hatch a complex plan again to put an end to student stress altogether, but he wouldn't know because he hasn't been attending the meetings. But whatever you were planning, it would be better than the last bomb threat for sure. Because you were always looking to improve, to better yourself to help others.

God, fucking shit. Jimin can't seem to think of one bad thing about you.

His days are spent dancing mostly as he'd submitted his college apps early (thanks to your suggestion), but he also can't get you out of his mind. Your absence makes him grieve for your presence. But he can't give up now. He doesn't want to show up in front of you one day and have to explain why he avoided you for months.

So he continues with his plan.

It's the Friday before finals week.

Jimin sits around in the corner of his school's dance room as the rest of his teammates go over the routine for the winter dance competition. He'd told the captain that he was getting a bad migraine, so he was allowed to sit out for the rest of the practice.

In reality, Jimin can't stop thinking about you. He knows you're here, after school, in your newspaper room, finishing up your last edits before publishing the paper on Saturday. He wonders if you'll welcome him if he meets you. He wonders if he should apologize for avoiding you. Maybe he can get rid of his feelings by hanging out with you more. Or he'll just act like the two of you are best friends and pretend he doesn't want anything more than a platonic relationship.

Jimin doesn't know what courses through his veins to make him stand up.

"I'm going to the bathroom," he murmurs, trudging out of the dance room and outside. He'll have to cross the quad to reach the newspaper room. Jimin nervously checks his watch. 4:42 p.m., it reads. You usually leave by 4:45 p.m., so Jimin doesn't have much time.

Or maybe he shouldn't go to you at all? He hesitates, lurching forward but taking a step back.

He sees another girl, not that far away from him, walking across the quad. There's a boy behind her, yelling "Wait up!" as he tries to catch up with her while holding a stack of heavy textbooks. The girl looks back around and laughs, taking half of the boy's stack and nudging his shoulder. They continue to walk across the quad, side by side. They must be dating.

Jimin quickly recognizes the tall boy to be Namjoon, his acquaintance, and as soon as he's about to wave, there's a loud bang!

Jimin flinches. Was that a...? He can't quite believe it. But there's a lot he didn't believe but still has come true at Welton High School. Or maybe this was another one of your plans. Fake a school shooting to cancel finals. He wouldn't know. He didn't attend the meetings.

But the blood rushes out of his face and it dawns on him that this is reality as he watches Namjoon's girlfriend fall to the ground in slow motion. His own breath quickens and his eyes are alert but he's almost frozen. No. This has to be fake. This has to be a trick. There's another bang! and this time, Namjoon lurches forward, hitting the ground with a resonating thump.

Jimin's frantic, trying to find the source of the loud bangs. Maybe Namjoon and his girlfriend are part of the group. Maybe it's all a plan. Time flies too quickly and slowly at the same time. Jimin sees blood leaking from the girl as she lay face down on the cement. Namjoon is knocked unconscious. That has to be fake. You can buy fake blood, right?

But deep down inside, Jimin knows the truth. He panics. It's hard to breathe.

Then there's another bang. Jimin feels searing heat engulf his chest. He feels himself fall backward, and he clutches his wet chest—not in pain but in shock.

He tilts upwards, and his last view is of the soft gray clouds in the darkened sky.

Then everything becomes black.

Two students, two seniors are reported to be dead. One shot in the head, another in the heart. One has miraculously survived a gunshot wound and is being treated in the hospital.

"Do you know them?" you say in a shaky breath.

Your boyfriend hugs you. "You know one of them..."

"Oh, god," you whimper. You can hear the police and see the bright flashing red and blue lights from afar. "The shooter was targeting students involved in after school activities. How cowardly. When there would be fewer adults around. They were looking to attack the students."

"I know, babe," Yoongi says. "The girl... she was part of the volleyball team. Her boyfriend is the one who survived, apparently. And the other boy... He... He was on the dance team."

Your eyes turn wide as you pull away from your boyfriend. "H-He..."

"Jimin, Y/N. It was Jimin."

You feel like you're falling down a pitch-black abyss with no one to catch you or help you. "A-Are you sure it was him?" you manage to whisper. "What was he doing outside the dance room?" you sob, throwing yourself into Yoongi's chest as your boyfriend tries to comfort you.

"Park Jimin, yeah... It was him," Yoongi says, petting your back. "I heard from the dance captain that he was having a bad day. Something about migraines..."

You can't speak. Nor can you even think straight.

"Jimin's body was found significantly away from the other two," Yoongi says. "He could've run away."

A heavy weight tugs at your heart and you let out another sob of despair. "Yoongi, he could've thought it was fake."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you get it?? He thought it was like the bomb threat!—fake! Planned! God!" you shriek, pushing Yoongi away and standing up, starting to walk around in frantic circles. "I killed him, Yoongi! I fucking killed him!"

You collapse on the ground with your hands on your head. "I killed him..."

"You didn't kill him, Y/N," Yoongi says. He crouches down with you. "Hey, it wasn't your fault. He's the one who wasn't coming to your meetings. If he did, he would've known we weren't going to pull off a stunt like that until next year's finals."

You shake your head, hitting your forehead repeatedly with your palm. "It doesn't matter, Yoongi! I should've never faked such a serious ordeal!"

"Y/N..."

"I deserved to be out there in the quad."

"You're the students' hero, babe... Don't think otherwise."

"Oh? Really?" you scream. "If I really were a hero, then why the hell was the school shooter a student from our school, huh? I obviously wasn’t keeping everyone happy!"

Yoongi falls silent.

"I don't care what you say, Yoongi," you say, your voice shaking from anger and devastation. "I failed. I tried making a system, but it didn't work... And now, people are dead... And I never got to say goodbye..." And he was avoiding me for months. I never got to know why...

"Hey, hey. Your system is perfect, baby," Yoongi answers. "It just doesn't work on psycho murderers."

That makes sense, too.

"I'm sorry, Yoongi," you say. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess. Thank you. For comforting me. God, I'm sorry..."

"It's okay," he says. "Things will be fine." He pauses. "You know, on the bright side, they might cancel finals."

[2 years later]

The moment you graduated out of the hellhole of a school, you discontinued your idea of a school revolt, and your system collapsed without you nurturing it.

Welton High School went under investigation after hundreds of parents and students protested. Counselors were fired and replaced. Administration was put on probation. It didn't take until two students' murders to fix things.

Funny.

Three student suicides weren't enough for them to realize something was wrong with the school.

You're bitter, but you try not to let it get in your way. Jimin will never get full justice because he will never get the life he deserved back. He was supposed to win hundreds of dance competitions. He was supposed to get to the end of the path of his dreams. But his life cut him short.

You dedicate your debut novel to him.

Now, when you walk around a supermarket, a library, a bookstore, you see your book on the stands or stacked up on tables. The white cover contrasts from the title inked in a black font: To Jimin (It's About Time I Told You I Love You).

The book tells the tale of Jimin. A newborn dancer who becomes tangled in the depths of a rigorous high school. There's one twist, though.

The story is told from a girl's perspective. A girl who loves Jimin, but never admits her feelings until it's too late. She watches him grow, blossom and become a star. But she isn't there for him when he dies.

She is you.

And you think it's about time you admit to yourself that you loved Jimin. Except he probably never loved you.

—masterpost

—masterlist

#ficswithluv #btswritersnet #btswriterscollective #bangtanfairygarden #btswritingcafe #jimin #park jimin #jimin imagine #jimin fanfic #jimin fanfiction #bts #bts fanfiction #insurrection #this story just makes me so 😭😭#sometimes when i envision the scenes i just get so eMoTionAl

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