#a friend explained to me a fic with major character death | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thelargefrye · 8 days ago

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BECAUSE I'M HIM ... mature one - shot (21+) | PART I

pairing : supe!ateez x supe!villain!f!reader ( ft. supe!villain!sanhwa x supe!villain!f!reader )

genre : dark, mature, heroes and villains, demon slayer x mha inspired, angst

word count : 24k

warnings : language, a lot... a LOT of fight scenes 😮‍💨, death / murder, blood / body gore, suicide, choking, attempted murder, the government wouldn't do that to you - oh yes they would, mass killing (a whole island gets wiped out – not in detail and only mentioned), MAJOR character deaths, cannibalism (kind of), mention human sacrifice, any korean that appears might be inaccurate

smut warnings : unprotected sex, pain kink, wound... fingering (I CAN EXPLAIN), handjob

listen to the official soundtrack here

note : for topaz's @sanjoongie YOTV collab – had so much fun planning this and writing it, thank you for allowing me to be apart of this collab and i hope you enjoy it! please make sure to check out the other fics for this collab with the masterlist!

also thank you to @anyamaris for letting me word vomit this to you!

with the hero association struggling to take down the villain alliance, they and the government force death row villains to team up with some of the world's greatest heroes in order to hunt down and defeat them. you are one of those villains.

ACT I: THE FINAL SELECTION

maximum security prison – interrogation room – day

the briefing room was sterile and cold. not only that but filled with tension that it could be easily cut with a knife. the seven heroes in the room along with the two hero association agents stood in a line, waiting. their hero uniforms were sharp and pristine – like they had never experienced being in a fight before. some of them exchanged wary glances, waiting for their captain to speak up.

some of the wary glances focus on said captain, hongjoong, as he lets out an annoyed sigh, arms crossed and a scowl on his face, “i still think this is a mistake. we don’t need some damn villains on our team.”

“maybe we should hear the reasoning first,” jongho says calmly as he leans against the wall and gestures to the two agents who are whispering amongst themselves, “they must have a plan after all.”

wooyoung let out an annoyed tsk at the youngest member’s words, “seriously? whose bright idea was it to bring in villains? we’re supposed to be heroes, not babysitters.”

“or they’re just desperate,” yeosang sounds a little skeptical before he’s glancing at yunho, “yunho, you… you knew y/n, didn’t you? before you became a hero?”

“yeah. we… we grew up together. went to school together too,” he answers, his body stiffening slightly at the mention of you and your… past together.

“and you’re only bringing that up now? feels like a pretty important detail,” wooyoung says, looking at yunho was a raised eyebrow. he was suspicious of why yunho would exclude ever telling the team this information.

the top hero looks at wooyoung, “it’s not relevant. that was years ago,” he says, defensively, but why? was he trying to defend himself or you?

“not relevant?” hongjoong speaks up this time, “you sure about that? she turned into a villain, killed a bunch of people at vanguard, yunho. makes me wonder if you missed the warning signs back then.”

yunho clenches his fist, eyes shooting a glare at his captain, but mingi steps in, “alright, that’s enough. no reason to randomly start pointing fingers.”

wooyoung turns his head, “still doesn’t mean this is right. we shouldn’t be working with people who are on fucking death row of all things,” he says under his breath.

“we don’t have to like it, but you know the villain alliance is escalating. if bringing in these three gives us an edge, we can’t afford to turn it down.”

“of course you would be on the side of bringing the villains in, yeosang,” wooyoung says, eyes glaring at his friend, teammate, “just because they have dark powers like yours doesn’t mean they are like you.” yeosang’s ears burn a bright red as his eyes look down to the floor, avoiding the others uneasy glances.

the tension in the room hangs heavy, with yunho shifting uncomfortably as the others cast sidelong glances at him. the door opens, breaking the moment and yunho internally sighs in relief, as the three villains – seonghwa, san, and you – are escorted inside by armed guards. your gray prison uniforms are a stark contrast to the heroes’ pristine, clean ones. yunho’s eyes focus in on the thick collars around your necks, a dim, red light pulsing faintly – prisoner control devices. you are further restrained with a sleek, heavy, metal helmet that entirely covers your head and face. yunho is sure that you can’t see out of it at all.

“this is ridiculous. putting them on our team?” hongjoong says once more, scowl growing even deeper.

“by order of the hero association, you’re to work together,” one of the agents said, fixing their glasses, “the villain alliance is escalating – demon appearances are increasing, dangerously, you’ll need their help. villains are better suited to take down other villains afterall.”

your head tilts slightly, sensing the hostility in the room despite being unable to see it. seonghwa and san exchange quick glances, their body language guarded.

“this is a bad idea. they’re basically just as dangerous as the demons,” jongho whispers quietly from the other side of yunho.

“we don’t have a choice,” yunho says back, trying his best to sound neutral; however, he can’t tear his eyes away from you. all he can do is picture you from six years ago, before the hero association and public claimed you to be one of the worst villains alive.

the other agent steps forward, their presence commanding attention as they begin to speak, “we’ve gathered intel that the villain alliance has been growing exponentially with more and more demons popping up. they are also reported to have a ranking system with the top demons known as the twelve moons. these twelve demons are the alliance’s most strongest aside from their leader – nicha yontararak, is powerful. we don’t know the exact extent of her powers yet. which is why these three,” they say pointing to you and the other two villains, “are some of our strongest villains we have on death row. they’ve… agreed to cooperate.”

wooyoung can’t help but let out a snicker at the agent’s words, “‘agreed’? pretty sure those collars say otherwise.”

“as if we want to help you all. i would rather happily stay in my cell and watch you all fail miserably,” san snaps back sharply.

wooyoung steps forward, jaw clenched, “big words for someone in cuffs.”

“careful, hero. the collars don’t stop us from speaking,” seonghwa says, his voice the complete opposite of san’s. like fire and ice.

you remain silent, your head shifting slightly as if trying your best to track the conversation. the helmet not only robs you of your sight, but also most of your hearing. your restrained demeanor makes you an enigmatic presence amongst the three villains.

“enough. we’re all here for the same reason,” yeosang says calmly, trying to de-escalate the situation before it grew even more hostile. was that even possible? he surely didn’t want to find out.

“speak for yourself,” hongjoong scoffs.

the first agent speaks up again, “this isn’t up for debate. the decision is final. get them integrated into the team.” the guards step back but remain close, their hands on their weapons as if waiting for either villains or heroes to make the wrong move. the two agents turn to leave but the second one pauses at the door.

“one last thing. these collars can and will neutralize them if they step out of line. you have our full authorization to engage them if necessary, captain hongjoong.” the agents exits the room, leaving a thick silence behind. the room feels suffocating with unspoken tension.

“so, will you actually be able to help us? or is this just an eventual setup?” jongho asks, looking towards the villains.

“we were in prison, not their meetings,” seonghwa deadpans at the youngest hero, “do we look like demons to you?”

yunho finds himself stepping closer to you, “y/n? how… how have you been?” his voice is quiet and he cringes at how he sounds. why the hell would he ask you that? of course you haven’t been good, you’ve been in prison.

you don’t answer him; however, choosing to remain silent which causes hongjoong to let out a laugh as if to ridicule yunho. yunho casts a quick glance at you. his jaw tightens, an unfamiliar guilt gnawing at him. he shifts uncomfortably, wondering if things could’ve been different – if he had done more, maybe tried harder to help you all those years ago. his fingers curl into fists before he looks away, swallowing his thoughts.

“don’t waste your breath, yunho. she doesn’t care about any of this,” hongjoong says.

san steps forward, tension rolling off his form, “watch your mouth,” he threatens with a clenched jaw.

“or what?” hongjoong asks with a cold smile, “you can’t do anything without your leash.”

before things could escalate further, mingi steps between them, raising his hands in a calming gesture. “we’re supposed to be working together. let’s not start killing each other before the real fight.”

seonghwa places a hand on san’s shoulder, guiding him back a step. you tilt your head slightly, as if observing the dynamics despite your blindness.

“this is going well,” yeosang says softly, the tension clearly making him on edge.

“it’s gonna get worse,” wooyoung mutters.

“then we’d better figure it out fast. the villain alliance isn’t going to wait for us to get along,” jongho says seriously as he looks around.

ateez compound – common room – evening

the ateez compound is probably the nicest facility you’ve ever seen. its sleek in design and filled with every necessity a hero team might need and more: training rooms, living quarters, a common area with large couches, a television that actually worked, and a kitchen off to the side. the atmosphere, however, is anything but welcoming, you conclude.

you sit in the corner of the common room, back against the wall, and your head finally free of that damn helmet that you had been forced to wear for six years in prison. seonghwa leans on the arm of one of the long couches, observing the room with an icy, detached look. san, sits cross-legged on the floor, tossing a small ball against the wall and catching it repeatedly. the three of you remain isolated, a rather stark contrast to the other heroes clustered together on the other side of the room.

the air on the other side of the common area is heavy with an uneasy mix of silence and tension. hongjoong stands by the large window that overlooks the surrounding outside area of the compound, arms crossed, his sharp gaze darting towards the three villains every few seconds. his eyes stay on you a little longer, taking in your calm yet unreadable face. wooyoung leans against the wall near him, arms folded tightly, while yeosang and mingi quietly watch from the kitchen.

jongho watches everyone from his spot on the other couch that isn’t occupied by seonghwa. yunho, perched on the edge of a chair, keeps glancing at you but says nothing.

“i still can’t believe we have to live with them. it’s like inviting a time bomb into your house,” hongjoong grimaces.

“more like three. pretty sure those collars won’t stop them if they decide to go rogue,” wooyoung snickers from beside him.

“you don’t know that. maybe this could work if we actually tried,” mingi said, a little louder than he intended. hongjoong shifts his gaze to mingi, eyebrows raised.

“tried? they’re not here to make friends, mingi. they’re here because the association thinks villains killing villains is easier than us doing it.”

“it doesn’t mean they can’t be allies. everyone starts somewhere,” yeosang says calmly.

wooyoung rolls his eyes at the red-haired hero’s words, “dark powers stick together, huh?” yeosang doesn’t respond to the obvious bait, but his jaw tightens. meanwhile, you tilt your head slightly, almost like you were listening.

san catches his ball with an annoyed sigh, “we can hear you, you know.” he says flatly.

“good,” wooyoung responds mockingly, “saves me the trouble of repeating myself.”

“you’re very brave when you’re surrounded by your friends,” you suddenly speak up, breaking your silence. the room goes quiet at your words. this is the first time any of them have heard you speak and it sends an uneasy shiver down the heroes’ spines as you narrow your eyes over at wooyoung. an unexplainable energy feels like his chest when you make eye contact, and he opens his mouth to respond, but hongjoong puts a hand on his arm, shaking his head. the tension is palpable.

the setting sun is the only thing warming the otherwise cold room, painting the usually white walls with an orange glow to it.

ateez compound – rooftop – later that night

the rooftop of the compound offers a great view of the surrounding forest. you can see the city in the distance, the skyline blinking and it reminds you of the stars that are in the sky. yeosang stands at the edge, leaning on the railing looking out at said skyline. you join him, your movements quiet.

“couldn’t sleep?” you ask, opting to not look at yeosang, but you could tell he was distracted.

“no.”

“figured,” you said, smirking lightly, “i guess the compound’s not as relaxing as it usually is, huh?”

yeosang doesn’t respond immediately. you shift a little, looking from him to the city where his eyes are.

“do they… hate you too?” you asked quietly, as if you were worried that someone unwanted would overhear you.

“what?” yeosang finally looks at you, a look of surprise on his face.

“the others. your powers are different. they must notice.”

yeosang lets out an awkward cough as he considers your words for a moment, then shrugs. “i’ve gotten used to it. people are scared of what they don’t understand. it’s easier to focus on appearances instead.”

“the public loves appearances more than powers,” you said absentmindedly and yeosang can’t help but agree. you hear him take a breath, like he was going to say something, but changes his mind. “what? just ask what you want.”

“the helmet.”

“what about it?”

“why were you wearing it?”

“it was a security measure. the association learned that it was harder for me to use my powers if i couldn’t see, so… bye-bye sight,” you explain to him and yeosang frowns at your words.

“the… hero association isn’t bad are they?” he asks and you remain quiet for a few moments before letting out a sigh.

“not to you maybe, but i am what they label as a villain,” you say with a dry laugh. “so… yeah.”

“right,” he says with a nod before he’s watching you step away from the edge and back towards the door.

“make sure you get some sleep, yeosang, good night,” you say, leaving yeosang alone once again.

“good night, y/n.”

ateez compound – training room – morning

the training room is dimly lit, walls lined with weapons and dummies. seonghwa is sitting on the floor, stretching, while yeosang practices his summoning abilities nearby. dark shadows twist and coil around him, taking the form of skeletal figures. you lean against the wall, watching yeosang’s power with mild interest.

“so they kept you in solitary confinement?” yeosang asks, looking over to where you are leaning against the wall.

“they didn’t trust me to not use my powers on the other prisoners,” you say rather flatly.

“must have been… isolating,” he says with a small nod.

your expression flickers for a moment before you shrug, “isolations not so bad when the company’s worse.”

seonghwa snorts softly, but there’s tension in his posture. jongho enters the room, his presence grounding. he surveys the scene before turning his attention to you.

“they’re not wrong to be cautious. you’re powerful,” he says.

“careful, jongho. almost sounds like a compliment,” you say with a smirk.

“just an observation, but power doesn’t mean anything without control.”

seonghwa’s eyes flicker to you, a shadow of concern in his expression. before anyone can respond, yeosang’s shadowy figure lunges towards a dummy, striking it with force. the sound echoes, breaking the tension.

“you ever think about what you’d be doing if you weren’t here? if things were different?” yeosang asks rather casually that it almost makes you laugh at how easy-going and innocent his demeanor is.

you hesitate, your gaze turning hazing and distant for a moment, “sometimes. doesn’t change anything, though.”

seonghwa exchanges a glance with jongho, unspoken thoughts hanging heavy in the air.

ateez compound – outdoor training grounds – day

the outdoor training grounds are sprawling, surrounded by high fences in order to protect the compound from any unwanted visitors and allow its residents to easily overlook the gray sky. you and yunho are standing opposite each other on the sparring mat, the rest of the team watching from the sidelines. hongjoong has said that him and the others should get a feel of what they are working with when it comes to you, seonghwa, and san. of course, you know he thinks he’s just wasting his time. if wooyoung not voicing the fact loudly didn’t tell you anything.

“you ready?” yunho asks awkwardly, but when is he not awkward with you?

“always,” you reply flatly.

the two of you begin sparring, your movements sharp and calculated. yunho hesitates, his strikes lacking conviction and passion. you take advantage of this, knocking him off balance.

“what’s wrong, number one hero? afraid to hit me?” you taunt him.

yunho regains his footing, his jaw tightening, “of course not,” he says defensively. he lungs forward, but you counter effortlessly, your power flickering subtly around you – small bouts of red lightning appearing. yunho falters, his mind clouded with static. flashes of a memory – unclear and fragmented – flicker in his mind. he stumbles, clutching his head.

you pause, brows furrowing, “yunho?”

before you can approach, mingi’s voice cuts through the haze. “yunho! you okay?” yunho straightens, shaking off the disorientation.

“i’m fine,” he says, brushing it off like nothing happened.

you step back, your expression guarded. the sparring session resumes, but the tension is heavier now. yunho is more aggressive in his movements, as if trying to prove something, but your skills thankfully keep you ahead.

“enough! this isn’t a fight to the death,” hongjoong says from the sidelines.

yunho steps back, breathing heavily. you lower your guard, gaze lingering on him. “you’re holding back,” you say quietly.

yunho doesn’t respond, turning away. the team disperses, the unresolved tension hanging over them like a storm cloud.

ateez compound – common room – evening

mingi and yeosang are playing a game of cards at the table while seonghwa reads a book on the couch nearby. san lounges not too far from him, watching the game with mild interest. you sit in the corner by the window, eyes glued to the nature surrounding the compound. a flock of crows fly by and they have you entranced for a moment.

“you’re terrible at this,” mingi says to yeosang with a large grin on his face.

“i’m letting you win,” yeosang deadpans back at the light-user.

you glance away from the window, your gaze flickering between them and their cards.

“he cheats, you know,” you say, directing your words to yeosang. the handsome hero looks towards his teammate with wide, shocked eyes which makes mingi gasps, feigning offense.

“i do not!” he shrieks out, this causes san to chuckle from his seat as seonghwa looks up from his book, a faint smirk on his face. you know moments of peace like this are brief, but you can’t help but feel this is a small step towards a hopeful unity.

if only the others were like mingi and yeosang…

ateez compound – training room – night

you’ve grown use to hearing the hum of the machinery in the training room over the short amount of time you’ve been here. it echoing and bouncing off the walls and sparring mats. you stood near the edge of the large sparring mat, back against the wall with seonghwa next to you. his arms crossed and his shoulder brushing against yours as he whispers quiet words into your ear. the quiet promises of something later making you let out a small smile.

san sits across from you all on the floor, stretching, his broad shoulders even more prominent in the black tank top he’s wearing. he can’t help the soft grin that graces his lips as he watches you and seonghwa. “that definitely looks like training.”

you turn to look at the blood user, grinning softly, “i think we’ve had enough training for one day.”

seonghwa hums in agreement, tilting his head towards you slightly, “i agree. i’d rather just be here.”

san lets out a chuckle, rising to his feet and stepping closer to the two of you. he stops just next to you, his hands brushing lightly over your arms and it sends a chill down your spine.

“i think you look better when you’re not fighting,” san teases, making you laugh.

“i don’t fight all the time,” you say, rolling your eyes a little bit at his words, “you were always the one starting fights in prison. i was too busy being held in solitary confinement.”

“and you only came out when they threw san in,” seonghwa says, making san send a glare over the other male.

you notice seonghwa watches you and san with a calm expression, eyes soften as you can’t help but rest your forehead gently against san’s. you feel the shapeshifter’s finger tracing up your back, neck – over the damn death collar, and under your chin before he’s turning your face to look at him.

“hwa…” you call out his name softly and it feels unreal almost. like the three of you weren’t villains, but just… normal people. “i don’t know what i’d do without you both,” you add quietly as you feel seonghwa’s arms slip around your waist. seonghwa’s grip is both grounding and gentle as he pulls you towards him. you feel san pressing a light kiss to your hair and you feel your heart speed up from how close to the males are.

you haven’t been this close to them in a while and it felt nice.

seonghwa draws your attention back to him as his hand comes to brush along your cheek, lifting your chin slightly as his lips connect with yours. san hovers behind you, sandwiching you between the two, his hands resting lighting on your hips and slipping underneath your shirt, and tracing small circles into your skin.

the moment stretches, tender and unguarded, and for now you forget about the hero association, the villain alliance, hongjoong’s aggressive attitude, and even yunho’s avoid eyes. you felt normal. your fingers curl gently into seonghwa’s shirt to pull him closer to you – if that was even possible. san presses his forehead against your shoulder and you feel his lips press into your skin.

from the shadows of the door, yunho stands frozen in place. his eyes watching the intimacy between you three and he can’t help the twist in his gut at the sight. his fists clench, unclench, clench again at his sides as an unfamiliar mix of emotions flickering through him.

the room blurs slightly, but yunho can’t find it in him to look away. like he refuses to look away. heart pounding in his ears when seonghwa presses his lips to yours once more, san’s thumb grazing over your bandaged, healing skin with a sort of tenderness yunho didn’t even realize the blood user even had.

a faint static hum fills yunho’s mind. his vision distorts – flashes of static along with something distant and obscured flicker across his thoughts. he grips the doorway, feeling his breath hitch as sweat builds along his hairline. a vague image – your face, slightly younger and laughing, suddenly blurs into focus for a split second, only to fade back into the static.

his breath shudders as the static fragments slip away, leaving a dull ache in its wake. yunho’s knuckles whiten against the frame as his mind reels in so many directions.

“y…ho? yun…? yunho? you good?” mingi’s sudden voice snaps yunho out of his daze and grounds him.

the top hero stiffens a little, blinking as he turns to see his friend approaching him. yunho clears his throat and steps away from the doorway, not wanting mingi to find out he was spying on you three.

shaking the lingering ache from his mind, “yeah, i’m fine.” a fake smile appears on his face, and he hopes that mingi buys it.

“you sure?” he asks, eyes studying him and a frown faintly appearing, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

yunho forces a laugh, his smile still not reaching his eyes as he nods, “just tired.” his gaze shifts back towards the training room, thoughts lingering on the villains one last time. the warmth you all seem to share feels distant, like something yunho can’t reach.

as yunho walks past mingi and down the hall, his expression hardens, but the flicker of the static memory lingers. haunting and incomplete. his fingers brush briefly over his temple, the ache refusing to fade.

outskirts of seoul – itaewon district – night

the nine of you stand together at the edge of the seemingly desolate district. the supposedly once lively streets are eerily silent. when briefed about the mission originally, you were expecting to see at least some people hiding in their homes, away from the villain that is terrorizing the district. however, this place was completely deserted: broken windows, overturned cars, and abandoned belongings create an unsettling atmosphere that sends an unwanted chill down your spine. a flickering streetlight buzzes faintly in the distance and you think it only adds to unsettling tension.

hongjoong stands at the front of the group, his eyes scanning the area, “stay sharp. something’s not right here,” he says and you all nod. despite how much you don’t like hongjoong for how hostile he’s been, you have to hand it to him that he takes his captain role seriously in cases like this.

“it’s too quiet. no birds, no wind… nothing,” yeosang says, frown evident on his face as he also looks around.

you all continue to walk cautiously down the street. mingi kneels down next to an abandoned bicycle, the handlebars bent and smeared with blood. “whatever happened here wasn’t long ago,” he says, looking from the bicycle to you and the others.

suddenly, a low clicking noise echoes through the streets. everyone freezes.

“what the hell was that?” yunho asks, tensing as he clenches his fists. you look around nervously, your breath visible in the cold air. when did it suddenly get so cold?

“probably a rat,” wooyoung snickers, but you can tell he’s trying to hide his nerves, “or maybe y/n’s shadow creeping around.” you shoot him a sharp glare, but choose to say nothing. you refuse to waste your breath on him and his snide remarks.

“that’s no rat,” seonghwa whispers, eyes narrowing.

the clicking grows louder, accompanied by the sound of something wet and slithering. the sounds fill your senses as you and the team move cautiously toward the sound, weapons ready. as you turn a corner, that’s when you come across the horrific thing – a man (or what looked like a man) crouched over a pile of corpses, tearing into the flesh of his victims as blood pools around him at his feet.

you couldn’t help but let out a gasp when the man’s head suddenly snapped towards your group. no… it wasn’t man, at least not anymore, you concluded. his face had been morphed into something similar to a spider. several beady eyes and fangs protruding from his mouth, his limbs were also similar to that of a spider – long and spindly limbs which you figure made it easier for the creature to tear into flesh.

“what the fuck?” jongho grimaced, gripping his fist as the spider monster stood to his full height and let out a hiss.

“it’s a demon! be careful!” you shouted right as the demon lunged for mingi who used his light powers in defense. the demon stopped in his tracks, shielding his eyes, he let out another shrieking hiss before he’s jumping back and away into the shadows.

“why the hell is there a demon here?” jongho asks, eyes wide in surprise which matches the rest of your faces.

“i don’t know, but i have a feeling he’s not the only one here,” hongjoong says, eyes locking onto the pile of corpses the demon was just eating from. “let’s split up, this is no longer just a regular investigation mission.”

outside itaewon district – forest – night

you and wooyoung run through the dark forest, the sound of your footsteps are muffled by the damp earth beneath you. the trees are dense, casting long, twisted shadows in the dim moonlight.

“we should’ve stayed with the others. i don’t trust you watching my back,” wooyoung snarls out from slightly ahead of you.

“don’t worry, wooyoung. i wouldn’t trust me either,” you say, rolling your eyes.

wooyoung opens his mouth to retort but stops short of his remark when you both stumble into a clearing. a woman wearing a white kimono stands in the center, strands of silk coming out of her fingers and you notice she’s manipulating them. this must be the demon controlling the other spider demons. her eyes are closed, so it's hard to tell if she’s noticed you and wooyoung yet.

“this must be the main demon,” you whisper to wooyoung who nods in agreement. “we kill her and the others should die as well.”

an eerily smile then stretches onto the woman’s face, eyes snapping open and you notice that instead of regular pupils she instead has 하위다섯 – lower five – written on her eyes. “ah~ fresh prey. how delightful~ you both will be perfect additions to my family,” she says, words dripping from her mouth.

wooyoung lets out a tsk, “let’s see how delightful you find this,” he says, raising both hands and allowing both of them to easily be engulfed in ice and flames.

“she’s with the villain alliance, be careful!” you say, but wooyoung seems to ignore your warning as he unleashes streams of fire and ice, weaving them together to attack the woman. the villain lungs for wooyoung, spider limbs ripping from her back and you watch as she easily dodges all of wooyoung’s attacks. her inhuman agility easily gives the hero a run for his money.

that’s when you notice her fingers, moving and invisible silk strings glimmering slightly in the moonlight. you suck in a breath when you realize that you and wooyoung have walked right into her web. you summon a sword with your powers, shimmering red as you grip it tightly in your hold, charging at the spider villain.

you manage to cut down one of her spider limbs, black blood spraying the area around while some of it lands on your arm. you let out a hiss as the blood starts to burn. acid. her blood was acidic thanks to her powers. she lets out another hiss before directing her attention towards you now. your blade gleaming in the moonlight. the two of you clash violently, the sound of steel meeting hardened exoskeleton rings through the forest air. the woman retaliates, one of her bladed limbs slicing across your arm, drawing blood.

wooyoung suddenly appears from your peripheral, left fist covered in ice as he manages to strike her, freezing the part that wooyoung made contact with. you use wooyoung as a distraction, slashing through the silk strands before countering a powerful swing from one of her spider limbs.

“you’re not walking away from this,” wooyoung hisses out before attacking her again with his ice powers. the villain grits her teeth, silk strands whip out, wrapping around your arm and yanking you forward.

“you’re wasting your potential with these weaklings,” she says, gripping your face tightly as another strand of silk catches your other arm. you feel the strands digging into your skin and slowly dripping down your arms. “join my family.”

“not… a chance,” you hissed out before managing to headbut the villain and knocking her away. wooyoung burns the strands that held you, and you turn to give him a nod before you snap your attention back to the villain.

she lets out a high-pitched scream that shakes the trees around the clearing. her eyes begin to transform into a darker red color, teeth sharpening as the strands attached to her fingers turn a blood red.

“i am sakura, lower rank five of the twelve moons. servant to lady nicha, creator of the demons and leader of the villain alliance, and i will make sure to kill you all and bring your heads back to her on a plate!” sakura hisses out as her remaining spider limbs hoist her up above you and wooyoung.

you brace your sword while wooyoung stands next to you, both fire and ice at the ready. “like to see you try, spider-bitch.”

outside itaewon district – deeper in the forest – night

yunho and san run through the forest, breathing uneven from both villain and hero as they rush into the clearing. they manage to arrive just as you and wooyoung struggle to subdue sakura. the villain’s grotesque, spider-like form creating dangerous shadow-like figures under the moonlight, her bladed limbs slicing through the air with deadly precision.

“we’re here!” yunho shouts as him and san rush forward, “hold her off!”

“about time! she’s a damn nightmare!” wooyoung says through gritted teeth as he dodges one of sakura’s limbs.

sakura lets out an inhuman screech, her silk strands snapping like whips towards the group. you counter, slashing the threads mid-air with your glowing sword, but more strands follow, faster and more aggressive than the previous ones.

“she’s not slowing down!” you shout, dodging and slashing at several strands. so many are coming at once that you don’t even notice more of them coming from behind; however, san does. he plants his feet firmly, his blood tendrils lashing out like crimson blades, slicing through the silk strands. he extends a sharp tendril forward, wrapping it around one of sakura’s legs, and yanks her off balance.

“i’ve got her! go!” san shouts and you nod rushing towards the villain, blade raised high in the air, but sakura twists unnaturally, snapping san’s blood tendrils with her powerful limbs. she leaps into the air, flipping away from the males and lands directly in front of you. sakura thrusts one of her bladed limbs towards your chest. you dodge, but not fast enough – sakura’s limb slices across your upper arm, drawing blood.

you let out a hiss as you roll away from her, “fucking hell,” you mutter, glaring at the spider villain who has a malicious smile stretching across her face.

you easily shrug off the pain, swinging your sword with calculated fury, sparks flying as the blade clashes against sakura’s hardened limbs. each strike grows more vicious, the forest ground beneath you splattered with dirt, blood, and silk.

yunho then comes rushing in, “stay back, y/n!” he barrels into sakura with his shoulder, sending her sprawling to the ground. he stands in front of you, his fists flowing faintly with energy.

“a hero protecting a villain? how sweet. too bad i’ll have to kill you both!” sakura snarls out tauntingly. she then lunges, her blades arms spinning in a flurry of strikes. yunho ducks and counters, landing a glowing punch that sends her reeling.

“now!” yunho shouts to san who nods.

san forms a massive spear from both his own blood and what’s already been spilled and hurls it with deadly precision. it impales sakura’s shoulder, pinning her to a tree. he then hurls several smaller ones into her body to keep her from trying to get free.

“do it now! take her down before she gets free!” san shouts urgently to you. you sprint forward, sword glowing brighter as your power surges. but sakura, even pinned, refuses to go down easily it seems. she lets out a screech and pulls herself free, shattering the tree behind her and even leaving several large holes in her body.

“you’ll have to try harder than that!” sakura snarls with a laugh.

“how the fuck is she still alive?!” wooyoung shouts, annoyed.

“you have to aim for the neck when it comes to demons,” yunho tells him.

suddenly, sakura summons more spider demons, their grotesque forms crawling from the shadows of the forest. all bearing a striking resemblance to sakura herself. wooyoung steps up, unleashing a fiery explosion that engulfs several of them.

“i’ve got the small ones. you three handle her!” he shouts before having two more spider demons engulfed in flames with loud screeches.

san and yunho close in on sakura, attacking in unison. san uses his blood tendrils to ensnare her limbs, while yunho lands precise strikes on her half regenerated torso, forcing her back.

sakura leaps into the trees, her movements becoming even more fast and erratic. you follow her, launching herself into the air with a burst of power.

“you’re not getting away!” you shout, swinging your sword mid-air, narrowly missing sakura as the villain flips backward. they land in a small clearing, separated from the others.

sakura smirks, her bladed limbs ready for another attack, “you’re persistent, but you’re just a pawn, same as me.”

“we are nothing alike,” you say, gritting your teeth and charging again, sword blazing. you land a powerful slash across sakura’s abdomen, black blood spilling onto the ground and just barely missing you. sakura screams in rage and pain, movements becoming more erratic and less precise.

yunho and san catch up, cornering sakura from opposite sides. san skewers one of her limbs with his blood tendrils, holding her in place, while yunho delivers a devastating punch to her mid section, you even hear her exoskeleton cracking.

“we need to immobilize her! take her into custody for the hero association!” yunho shouts to you. you approach sakura, sword trembling in your hands from the amount of energy this fight has taken. that’s when your eyes meet sakura’s.

you see a wave of panic flood her eyes as she begins struggling to free herself. “kill me! you have to kill me!” her voice desperate and pleading. it catches the three of you off guard at her sudden tone change.

“what?” you say, sword gripped tightly in your hand.

“she’ll find me! lady nicha will do worse than death! please, just kill me!” her words screaming and bouncing off the trees surrounding the clearing.

you hesitate, sword hovering at sakura’s neck. the conflict in your eyes is clear as sakura’s pleas echo in your ears. her pleas sounding hauntingly familiar to those you have heard before.

yunho notices the hesitation in your stance, “y/n, don’t hesitate–

before anyone can act, sakura seizes your sword with her remaining limb and makes a clean swipe at her neck. the blade cuts through her neck, head being severed from her body as they both collapse, lifeless. blood sprays across your body, her blood staining your face and hands.

you stand frozen, staring at sakura’s body. “she… she killed herself,” you whisper, shaken at the sight.

san steps forward in an attempt to comfort you, his expression softening. “y/n, it's not your fault–

you flinch and push him away, stumbling back. you turn to face both san and yunho with wide and shaken eyes. yunho stares at your bloodied face, “y/n–

suddenly, yunho grabs his head, a sharp pain overtaking him as his vision fills with static, distorted images flashing before his eyes. he sees fragments of you, blood across your face, but instead of fear you look almost… emotionless. dead.

“no…” he groans, clutching his head in pain, “not again.” he collapses to his knees right as wooyoung joins the three in the clearing. he rushes up to yunho, panic on his face as he shakes his shoulder.

“yunho! what’s happening?” the elemental hero asks, voice also full of panic.

yunho doesn’t respond, his mind consumed by the visions. meanwhile, you still remain frozen, staring at your blood-covered hands. the clearing is silent except for the rustling of the wind and the faint distant calls of the others calling for their four teammates and the cawing of a single crow.

infinity castle – ██████

the infinity castle groaned with restless energy, its every moving labyrinth walls shifting in different patterns under the glow of several thousand orange lanterns. at the heart of it all, lady nicha stood on a platform, exuding a dominance that was godlike.

karina, seated beside her with her bipa resting gracefully in her lap, plucked a melancholic melody from its strings. the mournful tune filled the endless castle dimension, heavy and foreboding, stirring unease in the very air.

“karina. call them.”

without a word, karina’s fingers plucked a singular cord. several hanok doors appeared, sliding open and summoning the lower rank moons. one-by-one they stood on the platform above nicha, her cold gaze watching them intently. they all knelt down, heads bowed low, trembling beneath the weight of nicha’s presence and stare.

the woman surveyed them with disdain, her eyes narrowing as she looked over them. her voice, calm but laced with venom, shattered the silence. “sakura was killed. why is it that you demons in the lower ranks are so utterly weak? the upper ranks of the twelve moons have remained unchanged. how many times have you been replaced?”

that’s easy for you to say, but we… one of the lower moons thought.

“that’s easy for you to say, but we…” nicha says, repeating the demon’s thoughts. “what? go ahead and say it.” her eyes piercing down at the lower moon with her red eyes.

i’m screwed! they thought, body trembling.

“screwed how?”

the air grew impossibly cold, the shadows on the walls twisting with sudden ferocity. her expression darkened, her crimson eyes gleaming with a silent fury. suddenly, a grotesque tendril appeared and attacked the lower moon, raising him upside down in the air. his eyes wide in fear, but had no opportunity to scream as the tendril shredded through him. blood pooling down blew and covering both the platform and remaining lower moons.

nicha then turns her attention to one of the other lower moons, “every time you cross paths with a hero you run. the only thing on your mind is to escape it's an embarrassment to the villain alliance.”

the demon immediately began trying to explain herself, saying how she repeatedly puts her life on the line for lady nicha and her cause.

“are you… calling me a liar?” nicha’s voice reverberates through the chamber, each syllable a knife carving into the demon’s hysteric composure. the music from karina’s bipa continued to play with a sharper edge. the grotesque tendril immediately crushed the lower moon with its weight. her blood spraying the remaining three lower moons with blood.

before nicha could continue her slaughter on the lower moons, the lower third suddenly dashes away. his demon speed taking him away from the platform he was originally summoned on and further into the infinity castle.

the only option is to run! he thought as he jumped from one sideways roof to another.

a sudden slash was heard before the lower moon’s head was clutched in nicha’s head, dripping blood as his dead eyes stared at the remaining too.

“i believe the twelve moons are better off consisting of just the upper ranks. i am now dismantling the lower ranks.”

nicha then effortlessly tosses the severed head down onto the other platform. the head hitting the wooden ground with a thump! and rolling slightly before coming to a sudden stop.

“do you have any last words?”

“i can still be of use to you, lady nicha! if you were to just give me more of your blood then–

“what makes you think you can order me to give you my blood?”

“you misunderstand! you misunderstand!”

“shut up. i misunderstand nothing. i’m never mistaken about anything. my word is absolute,” nicha’s eyes began to glow as she continued to look at the lower moon, “you tried to tell me what to do, yet you are the worthless one. you deserve to die.”

lower moon one, yena, is suddenly the only one left, her face covered in the blood of her previous fellow lower moons. yet, she continues to look up at lady nicha with more adoration than fear. eyes glazed over.

“do you have any last words?” nicha asks, looking at the demon.

“if i am to die by your hand, my lady, then i am honored~ you have given me everything. my strength, my purpose… my life. if i am unworthy, than i would rather die by your hand than live in disgrace~”

nicha paused, her fury momentarily eclipsed by curiosity. her crimson eyes narrowed as she regarded the unshaken demon.

“honored, are you?” the dimension fell silent. but the silence didn’t last long when a fleshy, grotesque tendril came down from above and stabbed yena in the neck. injecting the lower moon with some of nicha’s blood. yena suddenly fell to the floor and began to thrash and convulse, letting out a guttural cry.

“that’s what i like to hear~” nicha said, a faint cold smile twitching upon her lips for a split second. she seemed to gain some sick satisfaction at watching yena convulse on the ground beneath her. “i’ll give you an ample share of my blood. make yourself useful to me, then. if you kill the female villain who works with the heroes then i will give you even more of my blood. failure is not an option.”

yena could only let out a gurgled noise in response. karina plucked several notes on her bipa. with each note a hanok door appeared and shut, separating nicha from yena who struggled on the ground. one final note plucked and a door appeared underneath yena, opening and whisking her away and back to wherever she was prior.

ACT II: MUHAN TRAIN

busan district – train station – night

the moon hangs low in the night sky, its pale light illuminating the quiet train station. mingi walks over to the entrance, his boots crunching the gravel underneath. he adjusts his gloves and scans the area. the train station is quiet, almost abandoned of human life as he steps inside to look around. there’s a single light glowing warmly in the place. there’s no one at the counter, too dangerous to be out at night anymore.

he remembers hongjoong briefing him on the mission: investigate the train that had twenty passengers suddenly vanish without a trace. the association think its the work of a high-level villain. mingi though? he’s not entirely sure anymore, especially after dealing with sakura back in the itaewon district.

“this place gives me the creeps,” he mutters under his breath. the faint sound of a train whistle echoes through the distance. mingi frowns as he feels a chill run directly down his spine. he looks around cautiously, his heightened senses on alert.

mingi comes to the conclusion that this sleepy town looks like it forgot the concept of daylight. the streets are dimly lit, and most of the windows are closed, not a single outside soul able to see what goes on inside. he stops in front of a rundown looking diner and enters to see a few locals gathered about the place. the bell above the door jingles half-heartedly at his arrival.

the smell of stale coffee and grease fills and lingers in the air. mingi approaches the counter where an elderly waitress, face lined with years of worry, greets him.

“you’re not from around here, are you?” her voice is hushed as she looks over mingi’s appearance, his natural stark white hair making him easily stand out amongst the locals.

mingi shakes his head, “i’m here about the train. heard anything strange?” his words catch the gazes of the other patrons who look nervous.

the waitress hesitates before leaning closer, her voice low and trembling, “it’s not just the train. there’s someone… something. we call him ‘the slasher.’”

mingi straightens, brows furrowing, “the slasher?” he repeats.

“attacks people at night. leaves them… torn apart. no one’s seen his face. some think he’s a legend at this point.”

“and you’re sure it’s not connected to the train?” mingi asks, hands tightening into fists. the waitress shakes her head, glancing towards the door nervously.

“no, but he’s just as dangerous.”

suddenly, a loud crash comes from outside. mingi bolts to the door, throwing it open to see a figure standing under a flickering streetlight.

mingi assumes this is the slasher the waitress told him about. the figure stands tall, shrouded in darkness. his mask is stitched together with mismatched pieces of leath, and his hands are tipped with sharp, metallic claws. mingi thinks he just walked straight out of a horror film. a terrified civilian is pinned against the wall beside him, struggling to break free.

“leave, hero, or they bleed,” the slasher hissed out, beady eyes staring straight at mingi.

mingi steps forward, unshaken by the threat, “let them go. now!”

the slasher tilts his head, amused. he tosses the civilian back, who lets out a cry, before lunging towards mingi with surprising speed. the villain swipes his claws in a flurry, each strike aiming for mingi’s vital points. mingi is able to duck and dodge with precision, his combat skills sharp and deliberate like any high-class hero.

“is that all you’ve got?” mingi asks grinning.

mingi retaliates, delivering a powerful kick that sends the slasher flying into a pile of crates. the villain recovers quickly, leaping into the air and slashing downward. mingi rolls out of the way, his fist glowing faintly with his light energy. the alley becomes a quick battlefield, the slasher’s claws leave deep gouges in the brick walls. meanwhile, mingi counters with precise strikes that force the villain to become defensive.

“you’re faster than the others, but you won’t leave here alive,” the villain taunts, a maniacal laugh leaving his lips.

“we’ll see about that,” mingi says. the hero charges, his energy-infused punch connecting with the slasher’s chest. the impact sends a shockwave through the alley, shattering nearby windows. the slasher stumbles, his claws sending sparks flying as they scrape the ground.

realizing he’s outmatched, the slasher attempts to flee. mingi chases him through the streets, their movements a blur of speed and violence.

the fight ends at the edge of town, where mingi finally subdues the slashes. with a final punch, he knocks the villain unconscious, leaving him crumpled on the ground. the first rays of sunlight peak over the horizon, bathing the scene in a faint golden glow. mingi wipes sweat from his brow, breathing heavily.

“one down. now for the train,” he says to himself as he goes to connect the hero association so they can deal with the villain that lays on the ground.

busan district – train station – sunrise

mingi approaches the train station once again. this time instead of being abandoned, he notices a person at the ticket booth. he walks up to the older woman who simply smiles at him.

“the muhan train… is it running?” he asks.

“oh, yes! they sent her back from the train yard last night,” she explains and mingi is surprised by the news, but if this means he can figure out the mystery surrounding it then…

“three tickets, please,” mingi says, holding up three fingers. the older woman lets out a chuckle as she gets the three tickets ready. mingi pays the woman before thanking her.

he pockets the tickets and turns, spotting a familiar figure waiting for him near the platform – yunho, with you standing a few feet behind, your expression unreadable. mingi is honestly surprised that hongjoong sent the two of you on this mission with him considering the results of the last mission.

“took you long enough,” yunho says, nodding towards his friend.

“ran into some… distractions,” mingi said with a smile. you glance towards him, your eyes briefly flickering down to the faint scratches on his arm.

“looks like you’ve been busy,” you say, crossing your arms. mingi chuckles, brushing your comment off as approaches you.

“don’t worry about it. let’s go. we’ve got a train to catch,” he says, handing you and yunho your tickets. the train whistle suddenly blows and the three of you board before it begins to move, carrying you all to your next destination.

muhan train – passenger car – night

the train hums steadily as you, mingi, and yunho sit in a modest, warmly lit passenger car. one of the overhead lights flicker softly, making your eye twitch every time it does. a few other passengers sit scattered throughout the car, their light chatter fills the air peacefully.

“the hero association thinks it’s a demon,” yunho’s voice is low as he leans forward, “it’s the only explanation for twenty people vanishing without a trace.”

“a demon on a train? sounds like something out of a horror movie,” mingi says with a frown, his eyes darting from yunho to you to see your reaction.

“except this one’s real,” you said seriously, expression void of any possible emotion.

the three of you glance around the car. the other passengers seem oblivious, but there’s an undeniable tension in the air that you’re positive these civilians are ignoring. ignorance is bliss afterall, you think. a conductor enters, punching tickets as he moves down the aisle. his movements are stiff, mechanical, and his face gaunt, with dark circles under his eyes. like he hasn’t slept in days, weeks.

the conductor then approaches your row.

“tickets, please,” he says monotonously. yunho hands over your tickets and the tired man punches them with robotic precision, his hands trembling slightly.

“you look exhausted,” you say, observing the conductor quietly. the man hesitates but doesn’t respond. he finishes punching the tickets and moves on, his shoulders sagging under an invisible weight. you watch him leave, a small frown tugging your lips.

“you ever feel like we’re the ones who need a break?” mingi asks, stretching and letting out a yawn a little too loudly.

“maybe after we survive this,” you say, smiling faintly.

mingi chuckles, leaning back in his seat. the train’s gentle rocking starts to lull you three into a drowsy state.

“wake me if the demon shows up,” mingi says, stifling another yawn. you can’t help but also let out a small yawn, eyes feeling heavy and tired as you tilt your head back against the seat. eyes closing.

muhan train – abandon passenger car – night

the conductor steps into a dim, smoke-filled room. a large mirror reflects distorted shapes of the cabin you and the others are in. yena stands before the mirror, draped in a dark, flowing outfit with theatrical accents of feathers and embroidered stars. her piercing, icy blue eyes gleam the words 아래하나 – lower one – read where her pupils should be, and her smile is predatory, exuding both elegance and malice. she’s clearly not human, not anymore at least.

“welcome back, my loyal friend~” she speaks softly, with a mock bow towards the conductor.

“i did what you asked. can i… can i rest now? can i be with my family now?” he asks pleadingly.

yena tilts her head, “of course. i always reward devotion,” she steps closer, placing her gloved hand over his chest. a strange light emanates from her hand as the conductor's body stiffens. his head tilts back, and his eyes close.

“dream deeply,” she whispers. his body collapses like a marionette with its strings cut.

yena turns to the mirror, which now shows glowing tendrils snaking into the train’s walls. she lets out a deep laugh, “let’s see what their hearts desire most!” she says to herself, throwing her hands in the air in a large theatrical movement.

████ – beach – sunset

you let out a gasp, eyes snapping open and you find yourself standing on a beach. it’s peaceful and you can see the waves glittering under the warm sunset. san and seonghwa are beside you, both dressed casually and laughing. san reaches over, brushing sand off her arm with a grin.

“you’re terrible at building sandcastles,” he says with a smirk.

seonghwa lets out a chuckle, “more like demolishing them,” he says teasingly.

you let out a laugh, your voice feeling light and free like you’ve been this way your entire life. the three of you sit together, looking out at the horizon. san wraps an arm around your shoulder, while seonghwa offers you a soda.

“i’m glad we decided to take this vacation, get away from the city,” seonghwa says softly.

san nods, “just us.”

you feel your smile falter for a moment, a faint sense of wrongness creeps in. you look down at your hands, which are clean and unscarred – too perfect.

“this… isn’t right.”

daegu district – the song residence – day

mingi stands outside a small house, holding a certificate in one hand and dressed in his pristine hero uniform. when he walks inside he sees his parents sitting inside the cozy living room, their figures illuminated by warm light.

“mom, dad, i did it! i’m a hero now!” he says to them excitedly before talking about everything he has done in order to be recognized by the hero association. they both glance up, faces unreadable. his mother gives him a small, distracted smile before returning to her knitting.

“that’s nice, honey,” she says, voice flat and with no emotion.

his father barely looks up from his newspaper, “don’t forget to take out the trash.”

mingi’s expression falters, his face full of confusion and hurt which flickers in his eyes.

seoul district – cherry blossom tree park – day

the seoul district was bustling with life, students, faculty, and regular civilians alike enjoying the warm spring breeze that carried the faint scent of flowers. but what captured everyone’s attention the most were the cherry blossom trees scattered across the park’s main road. their petals glowing faintly under the soft sunlight.

it was the height of cherry blossom season – or so it appeared.

yunho smiled as he glanced at you walking beside him, your gaze fixed on the pink and white blossoms overhead. you had always had a particular fondness for things like this, where the world seemed to pause just enough to let beauty shine through.

“i told you this would be worth it,” yunho said, his voice tinged with pride. “i knew you’d like it.”

you slowed your steps, eyes narrowing slightly as you studied the trees more closely. your lips quirked into a small, curious frown. “they’re… not real.”

yunho looked at you with wide eyes, heart sinking at your words, “what?”

you gestured toward one of the branches, where the faint flicker of light betrayed its holographic nature. “they’re projections. pretty sure, but not real cherry blossoms.”

yunho let out a soft groan, running a hand through his hair. “i’m sorry, y/n. i thought… i didn’t realize. i just wanted to—

“yunho, stop,” you say, turning to him and cutting him off with a gentle smile. “it’s okay. you went out of your way to do something sweet for me, and that means more than whether the blossoms are real or not.”

your words lifted a weight off of yunho’s shoulders and warmed his heart and body like how you usually manage to do to him. yunho rubbed the back of his neck, ears turning bright red as he struggled to find the words to respond with. “i… i just thought you’d like it,” he mumbles, avoiding your gaze.

“and i do,” you replied, “especially since i’m here with you,” your tone as sincere as the sparkle in your eyes.

the two of you began walking along the path that curved beneath the cherry blossoms, their petals shimmering softly in the breeze. yunho couldn’t help but keep sneaking glances at you, his heart beating a little faster every time she laughed or pointed out something that caught her interest.

as they passed a family sitting on a nearby bench, your attention was drawn to a child tugging at their parent’s sleeve. “i wish they were real,” the child said wistfully, staring up at the holographic blossoms.

you slowed your pace, expression unreadable. yunho noticed but said nothing, assuming your silence was related to quiet disappointment.

“ready to go?” he asked once you reached the far end of the path.

“yeah, but i need to use the bathroom first,” you said quickly, darting off before he could respond.

yunho chuckled, shaking his head as he made his way to a nearby bench beneath one of the holographic trees.

but then the ground began to rumble.

yunho immediately shot to his feet, instincts kicking in as he scanned the area for danger. the tremors grew stronger, causing people to cry out and scramble for safety. students began to murmur about a potential villain attack, and yunho was already calculating how to evacuate everyone if needed.

but before panic could fully set in, something else happened.

the holographic trees flickered out of existence, their light dimming until they vanished completely. in their place, real cherry blossom trees burst from the ground, their roots spreading as their branches stretched towards the sky. petals began to cascade like rain, painting the park in shades of pink and white.

yunho was speechless, his breath catching as he took in the sight. the blossoms swayed gently in the breeze, their delicate scent filling the air. it was more beautiful than what he could have ever imagined, almost otherworldly in its perfection.

“wow!” your voice broke through his trance, and he turned to see you approaching with a wide smile. “look at them!” you stopped beside him, your gaze fixated on the blossoms above. “beautiful, aren’t they, yunho?”

there was something in your tone, a quiet pride that made him look at you instead of the trees. your eyes sparkled with mischief, and he felt a pang of realization hit him.

“you…” he started, voice trailing off.

“hmm? what are you saying?” you asked innocently, tilting your head as if you hadn’t just performed a miracle.

yunho opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. instead, he shook his head with a soft laugh. “nothing. forget it.”

you grinned, clearly amused. “oh! before we leave, we should get ––––– a keychain. he’ll never let me hear the end of it if we don’t bring him something.”

yunho looked at you with confusion written over his face as your voice began to become static. especially when you spoke of someone else’s name.

“who?” he asked and you looked at him with equal confusion.

“––––––”

yunho suddenly felt a pain rush through his head, he heard you let out a soft gasp as you touched his arm. his vision being overcomed with static as he saw flashes of different images.

“yunho? are you okay?” your voice panicked as the pain slowly began to subside from his head.

he shook his head as he straightened up, “yeah, sure,” he replied with a tight lipped smile. you looked at him with wide, innocent eyes before nodding at him. you grabbed his arm in order to pull him towards the park gift shop.

as you both walked through the park, now alive with real cherry blossoms, yunho couldn’t help but steal one last glance at you. you were radiant, laughter ringing out like music, and for a brief moment, he forgot about everything else.

all he could think about was how much he wanted this moment to last forever.

████ – beach – sunset

you feel a sense of unease grow as you stand up. you take a step away from san and seonghwa, your gaze sharpening.

“this isn’t real.”

san grabs your arm, his grip firm. your eyes look from his hand to his eyes. “stay, please,” he says.

“don’t you want to stay here? with us?” seonghwa asks firmly.

you hesitate for a moment, pain flickering across your face, but you push san away as you take off running down the beach. you need to wake up, who knew what the demon will do if you don’t do it soon.

there has to be an end to this place, you conclude as you summon your sword. the red metal glittering in the setting sun as you run along the sand. you figure if you run in a straight line then you should hit the end eventually. right?

“y/n!” you freeze in your tracks at the sudden voice. you feel a chill run down your spine at the familiar voice. what? you feel your breath getting heavy as you hear the person’s footsteps coming closer to you.

“where are you going? don’t you want to stay here? with me?”

you hesitate for a moment before turning to see him standing not too far from you. you feel tears begin to well up in your eyes at the sight of him. you feel a part of you pulling towards him, to stay like he wants. like what you want.

you shake your head, “i’m sorry. there’s people i have to protect.”

he lets out a laugh as he tilts his head, “i’ll see you later then.”

you nod your head, looking down at your sword before getting an idea. raising your sword, you plunge it into your chest. the dream shattering like glass.

muhan train – passenger car – night

you wake with a gasp, face pale and sweat-drenched. around you, the passengers are asleep, faces twisted in an unnatural serenity. you shake yunho and mingi in an attempt to wake them, but they remain unresponsive.

“damnit! you bastards, wake up!” you hiss before summoning your sword and searching for the demon that was responsible for this.

muhan train – train roof – night

you climb onto the roof, the cold wind biting at your skin. yena stands there, her dark cloak billowing out dramatically. she looks at you with surprise before it transforms into a menacing grin.

“awake already? how rude of you to leave the dream i tailored so carefully.”

“let’s skip the theatrics,” you say, gripping your sword tightly.

“oh, darling, i am the theatrics,” she says with a chuckle. yena strikes first, her movement fluid and almost dance-like. you block her attacks with your sword, red sparks flying with every clash. yena’s attacks are graceful but deadly, her nails cutting into your arm.

“i could give you everything. no more blood, no more pain. just… bliss,” she tells you, tone playful.

you grit your teeth, “i’ll take reality over your lies.” the fight grows more brutal, with blood spraying as yena’s claws grazes your cheek. you retaliate with a slash across yena’s torso, the villain staggering briefly before smiling.

the battle intensifies, you pushing through your injuries. finally, you land your sword where her neck lies and sever her head. yena’s head rolls along the roof of the train, body falling to her knees. but yena smirks

“you think this ends here?” yena asks, smiling as blood pours everywhere.

the train begins to twist and transform, metal screeching as it takes on a grotesque, almost living form. yena’s head attached itself to a flesh tendril as she laughs down at you. her body clapping at the scene before it.

“what the hell?”

muhan train – train roof – night

the cold wind howls, whipping through your hair as you stand on the roof of the speeding train. you grip your sword tightly, blood dripping from a shallow cut on her arm. the moonlight casts an eerie glow on yena, whose cloak billows unnaturally, as if alive. her sharp features are accentuated by the shadows, and her sly smile reveals teeth too sharp to be human.

“look at you. so determined. so angry. it’s almost… endearing,” yena speaks, mockingly towards you. you narrow your eyes, sword steady in your hands.

“you’re done terrorizing these people.”

“oh, darling, i’ve only just begun~” she replies with a smirk.

yena lunges with inhuman speed, her hands slicing through the air like claws. you dodge, barely missing the lethal swipe, and retaliate with a quick slash of your sword. sparks fly as the blade connects with yena’s clock, but the fabric seems to absorb the impact, leaving her unharmed.

you let out a quick cuss as yena spins, her movements fluid and unnervingly elegant, landing a kick to your side. you stumble but quickly regain your footing, slashing upward. this time, the blade grazes yena’s arm, drawing dark, ink-colored blood.

“how rude,” yena hisses out, she attacks back. her claws slashing across your shoulder. blood sprays onto the roof, and you grit your teeth, refusing to show weakness.

muhan train – passenger car – night

inside, yunho jerks awake, his vision blurry and disoriented. around him, the other passengers remain unconscious, their faces peaceful yet unsettling. he notices the grotesque, flesh-like tendrils snaking along the walls and ceiling – pulsing veins of flesh and metal intertwining.

“what the hell…” he says to himself. a sudden groan shakes the train as the walls ripple, the train itself coming alive in the moment. yunho stumbles toward the back, his instincts and years of training kicking in.

muhan train – train roof – night

the fight between you and yena escalates. the demon’s movements grow more erratic, her strikes faster and more lethal. you counter with calculated blocks, your sword glowing faintly as you channel your powers into it. you manage to land a deep slash across yena’s chest, causing the villain to stagger.

but yena only laughs, her voice echoing unnaturally, “you’re strong~ i’ll give you that. but you’re still so… mortal.”

she raises her arms, the train beneath you begins to twist and convulse. you stumble as the roof warps under your feet. yena’s body shifts, her legs melting into the train.

“you’re on my turf now, nameless.”

the train screeches as more of the flesh and metal tendrils burst from the sides, snaking towards you. you slash at them, severing a few, but more only take their place.

“yunho! mingi! protect the passengers!” you shout, hoping that at one if not both of them are awake by now. hopefully, they found a way to wake up.

you see movement behind you, and turn to see yunho now on the roof. “we’re not leaving you!” he shouts.

“just do it!”

yunho hesitates, but a sharp tendril lashes towards him. he ducks and retreats, heading inside to protect the passengers.

muhan train – living nightmare train car – night

the interior of the train shifts and slowly becomes unrecognizable. walls pulsate with fleshy growths, and even grotesque eyes and mouths form sporadically, watching and whispering. mingi wakes up to this sudden nightmare, body stiff from the unnatural slumber. he shakes his head as he grabs a nearby pole for support to stand up.

“what the hell is going on?” he asks, looking around completely horrified. “this really is a horror movie!”

yunho runs towards him, slamming a tendril aside with his fist. “mingi, help me! we need to protect the passengers!”

mingi nods, steeling himself, and the two begin tearing tendrils away from the unconscious passengers. managing to destroy and burn away the grotesque flesh that covered the car walls.

muhan train – train roof – night

you fight with everything you have. slashing through webs of tendrils, your body bleeding from multiple cuts. the train’s transformation has made the fight infinitely harder – yena is everywhere.

“you can’t kill what’s become eternal, little villain,” yena sneers.

you grit your teeth, sword glowing bright as you channel more energy into it. “watch me.” you then drive your blade into the train roof, sending a shockwave through the mutated structure. yena screams, momentarily destabilized, as parts of the train begin to reverie to normal.

muhan train – living nightmare train car – night

yunho and mingi manage to protect the last of the passengers, securing each of the passenger cars.

yunho looked up, “do you think y/n is doing okay?”

mingi looks up as well, “she’s stronger than all of us put together, yunho. she’s got this.”

yunho licks his lips at mingi’s words, “i hope so, for her sake especially.”

muhan train – train roof – night

you continue to fight, your injuries mounting. yena, now more monstrous than human, laughs as her tendrils lash out. you dodge, though one catches your side, slamming you into the roof. you let out a couch, blood splattering onto the metal.

yena leans closer to you, “you’re resilient, i’ll give you that. but you’re only delaying the inevitable.”

you grip your sword tightly, glaring at the demon, “inevitable? maybe, but i’ll still win.”

with a roar, you lunge forward, slashing wildly. the blade glows brighter with each strike, curing through yena’s defenses. finally, you spot yena’s neck – embedded deep within the train’s core. you leap into the air, bringing your sword down in one final, desperate strike.

“die already!” you scream out. the blade servers yena’s neck, and the demon lets out a bloodcurdling scream as her body begins to disintegrate. the train convulse violently, throwing you to side.

the power behind your attack has the training derailing, lying on its side in a broken heap. passengers awaken slowly, groggy but alive. yunho helps some of them out while mingi finds you thrown on the other side of the tracks, bleeding heavily.

derailment site – night

the area is silent except for the crackling of smoldering wreckage from the now derailed train. mingi crouches beside you, helping you sit up after having been thrown off the train, your blood-soaked clothes sticking to her skin. you wince as he carefully presses a piece of torn fabric against her side to staunch the bleeding.

“stay still, y/n. you’ve lost too much blood already.”

you grimace, “you’re one to talk… you’re just as banged up.”

“you’re way worse off. besides, someone’s gotta keep you alive.”

the moment of tense peace between you both is shattered by the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps crunching on gravel. a figure emerges from the shadows – a man with a sharp, predatory grin and glowing crimson eyes that read 상위삼 – upper three. the demon from the villain alliance, you conclude, strolls forward. his movements are unnervingly casual, his aura radiating just as menacingly.

“well, well. looks like i just missed the show, huh?”

mingi quickly stands, stepping protectively in front of you, “who are you?”

the demon lets out a mocking laugh, “aw, you don’t recognize me? i’m hurt. yeonjun, upper rank three of the villain alliance. and you… you’re mingi, right? the loud and flashy one.”

“if you’re looking for a fight, you’re got one.”

you struggle to push yourself up, your hand gripping your sword tightly. “mingi, don’t—

mingi turns to you, “stay down, y/n. you’re in no shape to fight.”

“you can’t take him on alone! don’t be stupid!”

“don’t worry. i’ve got this. after this, we’ll go get something good to eat, okay?” he says, smiling reassuringly to you. you hesitate, jaw tightening, but you finally nod, clutching your wound as you watch mingi step forward.

“oh, this is gonna be fun,” yeonjun says with a grin.

mingi charges first, throwing a heavy punch aimed at yeonjun’s face. the demon dodged effortlessly, countering with a kick to mingi’s stomach that sends him skidding back.

“is that all you’ve got?” he laugh, “come on hero, show me some real power!”

mingi doesn’t respond, rushing back in with a flurry of punches and kicks. his fists land solid blows on yeonjun’s chest, but the demon barely flinches, his wounds healing almost instantly.

“you’re strong, i’ll give you that. but you’re holding back. still clinging to your humanity.” yeonjun strikes back, his claws raking across mingi’s arm, leaving deep gashes. blood splatters onto the ground, but mingi doesn’t falter. he lands a powerful uppercut that sends yeonjun staggering.

“humanity’s what makes me stronger than you,” mingi says proudly.

“oh, please! don’t give me that righteous crap. you’d be unstoppable as a demon. think about it – we could fight like this forever! no limits, no consequences. just endless battles!”

“not interested.”

the fight intensifies, with mingi and yeonjun exchanging brutal blows. mingi’s knuckles are raw and bleeding, and his breathing grows labored. yeonjun, meanwhile, remains eerily unscathed, his wounds closing as quickly as they open. you watch from the sidelines, clutching your side. your eyes dart between the two fighters, your frustration building as you realize mingi is starting to falter.

“mingi, stop! you’re gonna get yourself killed!” you shout, panic running through your body and tone. yeonjun smirks, his claws glowing faintly with a dark energy.

“she’s right, you know. you can’t win this.” the demon lunges, his claws piercing through mingi’s chest. blood pours from the wound as mingi gasps, his body jerking in shock.

“no!” you scream, terror running through your body. you reach forward, wound shooting a sharp pain through your being and you fall forward.

despite the mortal injury, mingi musters the last of his strength, his fist glows with energy. he slams it into yeonjun’s face, sending the demon flying backwards. the villain lands with a grunt, momentarily stunned, but his body begins to regenerate almost instantly.

“you really are stubborn. i’ll give you that, but this? this is just sad,” he says disappointedly.

mingi collapses to his knees, blood dripping from his lips as his strength finally gives out. you manage to stumble to your feet, sword in hand, vision swimming from blood loss.

yeonjun notices the faint glow of the horizon as the sun begins to rise. his expression shifts from amusement to alarm. he then starts running back into the dense forest, you wobbling after him shouting.

“you… you bastard! you coward! come back and finish this!” you say staggering forward and making it to the forest line.

“you think i’m running from you? that’s cute,” he laughs as he gets further and further away.

you, in a desperate move, throw your sword. the blade slices through the air and impales yeonjun’s chest. the demon falters, yanking the sword out with a grimace before fully disappearing into the shadows.

“you coward!” you scream with as much strength as you could muster.

derailment site – sunrise

you stumble back towards mingi, falling to your knees in front of him. his breathing is shallow, his face pale. you press your hands against his chest, trying to stop the bleeding.

“st-stay with me, mingi. come on, you promised me food, remember? you can’t back out now,” you tell him panicking.

mingi smiles faintly, his voice barely a whisper, “are… are the passengers safe?”

you feel tears begin to build up in your eyes, “yeah. they’re safe. you did it.”

yunho arrives, climbing over the other side of the tracks after having helped the passengers and contacted the association. what was a look of relief turns into sheer horror as he sees mingi’s condition.

“mingi! no, no, no!” he drops to his knees in front of his friend and beside you, trying desperately to heal him, but it’s too late.

“take care of her. and… don’t let each other skip any meals.” with one final breath, mingi goes still.

yunho lets out a loud sob, screaming into the sky as he calls out to mingi, his best friend. “mingi! no! please!”

you sit silently in front of mingi, tears streaming down your face as you stare at your blood-covered hands. you look up to see a lone crow circling above them, its caw echoing in the still morning air.

ACT III: WINTER IS COMING

daegu district – funeral hall - day

the room is quiet, filled with somber faces and the scent of white lilies. a framed photo of mingi rests at the front, surrounded by wreaths from both family, friends, the hero association, and mingi’s fans. yunho and hongjoong stand near the back, dressed in black suits, their expressions tense and heavy.

yunho’s jaw is tight as he glances towards mingi’s parents at the front of the hall. his mother dabs a handkerchief at her eyes, while his father gaze stays locked on the floor, one hand around his wife’s shoulder and the other clenched into a fist at his side.

“have you talked to them yet?” yunho asks, whispering to hongjoong.

“no,” hongjoong says flatly. yunho frowns but doesn’t press further.

daegu district – outside funeral hall – after the service

the crowd slowly began to thin, eventually leaving only yunho, hongjoong, and mingi’s parents. the four stand in the funeral home’s quiet garden. tension hangs thick in the air as mingi’s father finally speaks.

“you have some nerve showing your faces here,” mr. song spits out angrily at the two heroes.

yunho steps forward, his voice steady but strained. “we’re here to pay our respects.”

“respects?” mrs. song’s voice trembles with bitterness as she talks, “is that what you call this? he’s dead because of you.”

yunho flinches, but hongjoong doesn’t react, his expression unreadable.

mr. song points an accusing finger towards yunho, “you dragged him into this – into being a hero. if it weren’t for you, he’d still be alive.”

yunho’s hands ball into fists, but he keeps his tone measured. “mingi chose to become a hero because he wanted to make a difference. he believed in what we were doing.”

“and look where it got him! he should have stayed here, with us, where he was safe. but no, he had to go off chasing some foolish dream and get himself killed!” his mother snarled. the words cut deep, but yunho refused to back down.

“he wasn’t chasing a foolish dream. he was trying to protect people – people like you.”

mr. song steps forward, his face contorted with more rage than grief, “don’t you dare try to justify this to us. you think we care about your excuses? our son is gone, and it’s your fault!”

before yunho can respond, hongjoong bows deeply, his head low. “you’re right. this is our fault. we failed him, and for that, we’re sorry.”

the gesture catches everyone off guard, including yunho.

mingi’s mother scoffs, her voice cold as she sneers at hongjoong and his action, “sorry? what good is sorry? it won’t bring him back. just leave. both of you.”

hongjoong straightens, his face blank, and nods. without another word, he turns and begins

daegu district – outside funeral hall – late afternoon

the two walk in silence, the weight of the encounter pressing down on them. finally, yunho breaks the silence.

“why did you do that?” he asks his captain angrily.

hongjoong doesn’t look at him, his voice quiet but firm. “because it’s what they needed to hear.”

“they needed to hear the truth! that mingi was a hero, that he died protecting people! not some empty apology that makes it sound like we didn’t care!” yunho says, feeling all his emotions about to explode out of him.

hongjoong stops abruptly, turning to face yunho. “you think i don’t care?” he says, voice rising, “you think this doesn’t tear me apart, too?”

yunho glares at him, emotions continuing to boil over. “then why do you always act like nothing touches you? like you don’t feel anything?”

“because someone has to keep it together. someone has to be the one to face people like them and take the blame if it means they get even a shred of peace.”

yunho’s anger falters, replaced by a flicker of understanding. “you don’t have to carry it all on your own, you know,” yunho says quietly.

hongjoong exhales deeply, running a hand through his hair. “i know, but it’s easier this way.” they stand in silence for a moment, the tension easing slightly.

“mingi wouldn’t want us to be like this. he’d want us to look out for each other,” yunho says softly.

hongjoong nods, gaze distant, “you’re right.”

the two continue walking as the sun begins to set. side by side, the tension between them slowly fading along with an unspoken promise of healing lingering between them.

seoul district – living room – night

a group of older adults sit around a fireplace, glasses of wine in hand. laughter fills the room as they exchange words and stories. one of them, a well-dressed man in 50s, leans back in his chair and takes a sip of his drink.

“you know, our little girl’s been reading college-level texts since she was eight. smart as a whip, that one!” he says and his wife next to him smiles.

“she’s going to take the hero association to new heights, i’m sure of it. honestly, we couldn’t be prouder – even if she isn’t… well, you know.”

“adopted or not, she’s clearly got your drive,” the other woman says.

“yes, it's a shame that she suffers from a strange condition, not being able to go outside during the day though hasn’t killed her drive though,” the first man said. the group laughs and continues their chatter, their voices a warm hum against the crackling fire.

seoul district – home library – night

upstairs, a young girl, no older than thirteen, stands in a room with the walls lined with towering bookshelves. the room is softly lit, casting shadows across the spines of ancient tomes and leather-bound books. the girl’s small hands flip through a dense book written in an unfamiliar language.

her attention sharpens as she scans the pages, her lips forming silent words, able to follow along easily with the unfamiliar script. a faint breeze causes the sheer curtains on the balcony doors to sway, though the night outside is still.

the balcony doors creak open, a tall figure steps inside, his movements measured and deliberate. yeonjun enters, bowing low as the curtains blow around him.

“lady nicha,” yeonjun’s voice is low and respectful. the complete opposite of what it was during his fight with mingi.

the girl turns slowly, her youthful face serene, yet unnervingly cold. her dark eyes flash a vivid, burning red, illuminating her face for an instant before fading back to normal. she tilts her head, studying him like he was a mere insect to her.

“you’re late,” her voice, mature and calm, is the complete opposite of her youthful and innocent appearance.

“i came as quickly as i could,” he keeps his head low as he speaks. eyes staying towards the floor and not daring to look at the girl in front of him.

nicha closes the book with soft thud, even so a ripple of air rushes through the room due to her single action. though her stature is small, the air around her is suffocating, charged with unlimited power.

“report.”

yeonjun straightens but keeps his gaze averted, respectfully. “the train mission was… partially successful. the hero mingi is dead.”

nicha’s expression remains unchanged, her eyes unblinking as she continues to stare at yeonjun. waiting for him to continue with his report.

he hesitates for a moment before continuing, “but the other hero and the female villain survived.” the room grows deathly silent at his words.

“didn’t i tell you to kill all of them?” nicha’s voice is soft, yet menacing. the air ripples with an unseen force. the books on the shelves around them tremble.

“the sun was rising soon. i couldn’t stay much longer. if i had—

a sudden deafening crack interrupts him as the windows behind him shatter. shards of glass explode and fly inward. yeonjun doesn’t flinch, though his shoulders tense. the glass hovers mid-air for a split second before raining down on the floor.

the room itself seems to quake, the walls vibrating faintly under nicha’s silent fury. she steps towards yeonjun, her bare feet crunching softly against the scattered glass. she doesn’t flinch as the glass shards pierce her feet.

“excuses,” she spits, voice low and full of venom. yeonjun swallows hard but remains rooted in place, his eyes fixed on the ground. unmoving.

nicha then tilts her head, like a curious child, “do you think i care about the sun? or your limits?” her voice echoes unnaturally through the room. reverberating as if spoken by many voices at once.

yeonjun struggles to maintain his composure, “it won’t happen again. i’ll finish the job.” nicha’s lips curve into a faint smile, though her eyes and the smile itself remains devoid of warmth.

“no, it won’t.” the tension in the air snaps as quickly as it rose. nicha turns away from yeonjun, dismissing him with a flick of her hand. “leave.”

yeonjun hesitates for a fraction of a second before bowing deeply and retreating. he steps carefully through the broken glass, his movements eerily silent. the balcony doors close behind him, and nicha turns back to her book. she resumes where she left off, her expression as calm as if nothing had happened.

ateez compound – common room – night

the compound is unusually quiet. the common room feels colder than usual, the air heavy with grief. jongho, wooyoung, and yeosang sit together on the couch. none of them speak for a while, each lost in their thoughts.

“it doesn’t feel real,” wooyoung says softly, finally breaking the silence.

jongho, sitting with his elbows on his knees, nods but doesn’t lift his head. “i keep thinking he’s going to walk through the door. make some dumb joke about how we’re all too serious,” he says quietly.

yeosang leans back, staring at the ceiling, voice distant and solemn, “he always made it look so easy. like no matter how bad things got, he’d figure it out.”

wooyoung lets out a shaky laugh, but it’s devoid of humor, “that’s because he was stubborn as hell. he hated giving up on anything.”

there’s a brief silence as the three exchange a look. despite their different temperaments, the loss of mingi has brought them closer in their unfortunate shared grief.

“we should’ve been there,” jongho says, voice full of regret.

yeosang shakes his head at the youngest’s words, “we can’t think like that. it’s not what he’d want,” yeosang’s voice is soft but firm.

wooyoung’s eyes glisten, but he blinks them away, refusing to let the tears fall. “he was family. all of us… we’re family, right?” he asks, staring at his hands.

jongho and yeosang both nod, their faces set with quiet determination. yeosang looks at the both of them, “and family sticks together. no matter what.”

ateez compound – infirmary – night

the sterile, white walls of the infirmary feel suffocating. you sit on the edge of the bed, side bandaged, but face still pale from the results of the last mission. the faint sound of the compound’s hum buzzes in the background and slowly in your mind. you stare out the window, moonlight illuminating your face.

your eyes are hollow, expression distant. one hand absentmindedly touches the bandages on your abdomen. “i should’ve done more,” you whisper to yourself.

a single tear escapes, sliding down your cheek. suddenly, your nose begins to bleed. you wipe it quickly with the back of your hand, frowning. your eyes immediately snap to the infirmary door, watching as san steps into the room, carrying a small tray with supplies.

“i figured you’d still be awake,” he says, sitting down beside her.

“i can’t sleep,” you say in reply, softly. san places the tray on the side table, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“no one blames you, y/n,” he says quietly.

your jaw tightens, and you look away, voice trembling, “that’s a lie. either way… i blame me.”

san reaches out, hand hovering near yours before pulling back. “you fought harder than anyone else could’ve in your condition.”

“it wasn’t enough! mingi’s gone because i wasn’t strong enough to stop that bastard!” your voice cracks, and a faint glow of your powers flickers around your fingers. the air in the room becomes momentarily heavy. san tenses but stays calm.

“y/n,” he calls out to her, soft but firm. the sound of his voice pulls you back, and the glow dissipates. you exhale shakily, guilt washing over you.

“i’m sorry,” you say quietly.

“you don’t have to apologize.” there’s a long silence before san gestures to the bandages on her abdomen. “let me change those for you.”

you hesitate but eventually nod, lifting the hem of your shirt to reveal the bloodstained bandages underneath. san’s fingers brush against your skin as he helps you take your shirt off before he carefully unwraps the bandages, his touch gentle but precise. the intimacy isn’t lost for either of you. you watch him closely, the room growing quieter as the tension between you builds.

“does it hurt?” he asks, glancing up at you.

“not as much as it did before,” you tell him softly.

san chuckles faintly, his voice low, “you’re tougher than you give yourself credit for.”

his fingers linger for a moment over your wound, his finger edging around the stitches some agent from the association had done when they arrived at the derailment site. you feel your breath caught in your chest when you feel him push down on the stitches. like he was testing the durability of your stitches. you feel your heart begin to pound in your chest the more he presses down.

“san…” you manage out, his eyes flicker up to meet your own.

“does that hurt?” he asks, eyes never yours, fingers pressing down into your wound.

“a little…” you trail off, feeling the sting begin to build up. as the pain from his touch begins to spread, you feel a certain heat also begin to spread over you. the pain and heat mixing in your body making your heart jump in your chest, breath hitching.

your hand comes up to grab a fistful of san’s shirt when you feel your stitches finally giving out. a gasp leaves your lips, but san muffles any remaining sounds that want to escape. his lips pressing to yours in an open mouth, tongue abusing yours as two of his fingers jab into your wound – into you.

san’s mouth trails from your mouth and down your jaw, tongue leaving a wet trail over your skin. he trails his tongue over your jaw and down your throat where he meets your death collar. you hear grumbled over the collar before skipping over and continuing down. he meets your lips again when you pull him back up to kiss you, his fingers teasingly moving in and out of your wound.

the pain making your moan and clench your eyes shut, jaw clenched, san is panting heavily in your ear like a dog in heat at the feeling of your insides.

“f-fuck,” he pants out, you cringe at the lewd, wet sounds your wound and his fingers are making together. you feel a little embarrassed about it, but the way he reacts makes the heat from your core reappear – as if it even disappeared. you’re just as sick as he is, you think to yourself. your hand comes down to his crotch, palming the noticeable tent in his pants. san lets out a moan, lips crushing yours when your hands travels inside his pants and grabs his cock.

your tongues do a wild dance, spit running down your chins as his free hand grips your hair and keeps your head in place. the sting from his grip mixed with penetration of your wound sends a pleasurable wave over your body. your hand gives san’s tip a squeeze making him thrust up into your hand.

“fuckfuckfuck,” san pants out, as you feel him curl his fingers, “feels so good,” he adds, eyes glazed over with a look of lust.

“s-san,” you moan out as you suddenly both his hands are moving, his left fingers covered in blood that he spreads over the expanse of your body as he moves you to lay down. you let go of his cock, eyes watching as it stands red and angry at being let go. precum beads at the top of his tip trailing down the length of it and the sight makes you even more hornier than you were.

blood begins to run out of your newly open wound, but san effortlessly uses his powers to stop it. how convenient. you let out a small wince when he bends you in half, yanking your pants and underwear to your knees. “sorry– can’t wait,” he rushes out as you feel his tip rub between your folds that were already slick and easily helping him slip inside of you.

the two of you let out a string of moans as san enters you, his cock stretching you out and there’s a slight sting to his stretch. only thanks to not having him inside you for the past several months. you honestly were starting to forget how good it felt to have him inside you. san immediately begins to thrusts inside of you, holding onto your legs as leverage.

“fuck– i forgot how good this pussy is,” he hisses out as his cock hits your g-spot, over and over again. you feel your eyes roll into the back of your head at the feeling, mouth hanging open and moans spilling into the air. the lewd wet sounds from just moments ago, return as san continues to fuck your pussy. your wetness smearing up your thighs and over your ass as his pace doesn’t stop once he finally found a good pace.

“damn infirmary beds… too fuckin’ small,” he spits out as one of his legs almost fall off the side from how he tries to spread you out more. you feel the head of his cock hitting your sweet spot, head thrown back you feel your climax continue to build up.

“s-s-san-nie! i’m close!” you tell him, you feel his fingers digging into the backs of thighs as he begins to drill into you with his cock. if you weren’t getting your insides rearranged then you would have been worried about the infirmary bed. thankfully, san’s powers have to do with blood and not strength.

however, his natural strength was nothing to laugh about.

you let out a choked sob as you feel yourself coming. san sheathes himself deep inside of you as he also comes. his thick cum painting your walls and even dripping out as san tries to fuck it back into you. he pulls out, running the head and base of his cock between your creamy folds, watching with a daze expression.

you let a hiss of pain out when your orgasm subsides and the pain from your open wound begins to overtake you.

san seems to snap out of it as he’s quickly fixing himself and you. he looks at your wound, gently touching it, his fingers still coated in your now dried blood.

“let me fix you up,” he says, grabbing what he needs and begins to patch up your wound. “there,” he says softly once your wound is closed once more.

“san…” you say quietly as you sit up. his eyes meet yours, expression unreadable now, but filled with something.

“does it still hurt?” he asks softly, reaching over to grab new bandages and you shake your head. “good,” he adds, wrapping the new bandages around your abdomen.

“thanks,” you tell him when he’s done and finally help you put your shirt back on. the earlier mood seemingly settling back between the two of you. mind racing as you think back to how if you had been stronger than you won’t have suffered the wounds you did. you could’ve helped mingi and maybe he would still be here.

“you don’t have to carry this alone,” he tells you softly, snapping you out of your thoughts. you blink, tears welling up again.

“i… i don’t know how to move forward,” you confess. san places a hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing lightly against your collarbone.

“one step at a time. me and seonghwa… we’ll be there with you. for you,” he says, your faces inches apart. the tension between you both is almost visible. neither of you move, the moment hanging in the air before you look away, breaking the spell.

“thank you.”

san doesn’t respond, but his hand lingers on your shoulder for a moment longer before he pulls away. the two of you sit in silence, the weight of your grief and unspoken emotions filling the room.

ateez compound – common room – day

the compound has become quieter the last few days, somber stillness that reflected the weight of mingi’s death. you sat alone at the kitchen table, which was connected into the common room, staring at the half-empty cup of tea in front of you. the guilt you had been feeling was unbearable. a constant ache in your chest that refused to fade. you replayed the moment over and over again, mind torturing you with the what-ifs.

wooyoung leaned against the wall nearby, his arms crossed as he stared out the window. every so often his sharp gaze would flicker over to you, who remained unmoving. the tension between them and the rest of the team had been simmering for days, about ready to boil over at any second.

“you’re really just sitting there?” he finally asked, voice low but cutting. you chose not to respond to him. fingers tightening around the mug instead. “answer me!” wooyoung snapped, stepping closer. now in the kitchen area. “do you feel anything? mingi is dead! and you’re sitting here like it’s just another day!”

you flinched slightly at his words, guilt twisting even tighter, but before you could muster a reply, san stood abruptly from his spot by the other large window in the common room. “that’s enough, wooyoung,” he says, his voice full of warning and danger, not to mention laced with a certain coldness.

“enough? are you kidding me?” wooyoung sounds offended by san’s words, his eyes blazing as he directs his attention to san. “mingi died because of her! if she hadn't been so–

“don’t you dare fucking finish that sentence,” san cuts him off, stepping close until they were just nearly nose-to-nose with each other. his fists clenched at his sides, just barely able to restrain himself from punching the hero. “you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“i know exactly what i’m talking about,” wooyoung shot back. “she’s clearly a liability. always has been since day one, and now mingi’s gone because of it. i’m surprised yunho isn’t dead too because of her.”

“wooyoung, stop!” yeosang tries to step in, but he was immediately drowned out by the argument.

san’s jaw tightened, “mingi’s death isn’t her fault. she risked her life to save those passengers and was injured because of that demon. how was she supposed to know an even stronger one was going to show up right after? huh? tell me that.”

wooyoung let out a bitter laugh, one full of anger and disbelief. “you always defend her, don’t you? no matter what she does, you’re always there to protect her. i thought she was one the world’s worst villains, can she not protect herself?”

“and you’re always looking for someone to blame,” san retorts, “mingi wouldn’t want this – wouldn’t want you tearing the team apart because you can’t deal with your grief and personal issues! you’ve been hostile since day one, wooyoung, don’t you have anything else better to do than be this petty?”

wooyoung’s hands balled into fists, elements of fire and ice sparking off both hands, “don’t you dare talk to me about grief! at least i actually cared about mingi. at least i–

“enough!” jongho’s voice echoes through the room as he steps between them, shoving them apart with a firm grip on each of their shoulders. “both of you stop this right now. fighting each other won’t bring him back.”

san shrugs jongho’s hand off with a huff as he reluctantly steps back. wooyoung scowled but didn’t push further; however, the anger in his eyes didn’t fade. from across the room, seonghwa, who had been silent observing, finally spoke.

“this isn’t helping anyone. least of all mingi.”

wooyoung muttered something under his breath that no one caught before storming out of the common room. his footsteps echoing through the hallway.

yeosang, who had also been watching quietly, approached you. he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, his expression soft as you look up at him with tired eyes. “come on. let’s get out of here for a bit,” he says quietly. you hesitate for a moment before nodding, face pale and drawn from watching san and wooyoung as you let yeosang guide you out of the room. you both walked in silence down the corridor, tension still heavy in the air for everyone.

“don’t let him get to you,” yeosang says eventually, his voice calm but firm. he does his best in trying to assure you.

you stopped walking and leaned against the wall, hands trembling. “he’s right, though,” you whispered. “i failed. i couldn’t save mingi.”

yeosang shook his head, his hands gently coming to support yours, “you did what you could. none of this is your fault, and if it wasn’t for you there would have been a lot more casualties. you did a good thing.”

tears began to well up in your eyes as you listened to speak, despite trying to blink them away. “it feels like my fault. every time i close my eyes, i see him. he fought so hard, we were supposed to get something to eat after the mission. he promised.”

yeosang leaned against the wall beside you, his presence steady and grounding. “we’ve all lost people, y/n. but you don’t have to carry this by yourself. you’ve got us to help you through this. we are all figuring this out, together.”

you looked up at him, vision blurry with tears, yet you still managed a small, grateful smile, “thank you, yeosang.”

before he could respond, jongho comes rushing down the corridor, expression tense. you don’t think you’ve seen jongho look like this, not since when you first met him a few months ago. “someone’s approaching the compound,” he says breathlessly.

you and yeosang exchanged a look before you are following after jongho to the main entrance. wooyoung is already there, fists clenched and fire and ice seeping off his fingers. he’s ready just in case.

then you see them. a long figure staggered closer, silhouette weak and unsteady. it was a young woman. as she came closer, you could tell the three heroes immediately recognized her. she had to be a fellow hero.

“it’s winter,” yeosang says, eyes flickering over to meet yours. like he was filling you in on who this was. winter? you think you’ve heard that name being tossed around before when you were still in prison. some of the male villains idolizing her, having crushes on her despite her being a hero and them villains.

winter’s uniform was torn and soaked with blood, her face pale and bruised as she nearly collapsed at the entrance. you can’t help but notice how despite her torn uniform and injuries, the light pink shawl with stars on it remained… almost untouched as it draped around her arms. jongho and yeosang rushed over to support her, each of them taking an arm to help steady her as they carefully helped her inside.

“my team…” winter began to say, her voice weak and trembling as she let out a small gasp, “we were attacked. a-a villain– demon, i don’t know what it was. they’re all dead! i’m– i’m the only one who made it out,” she tells you all, tears beginning to build up in her eyes.

wooyoung frowned at the news, “you can stay here until hongjoong and yunho get back. they’ll know what to do.”

you watch as winter’s gaze swept the room before she immediately caught her breath, eyes narrowing when they landed on you, san, and seonghwa. “i didn’t think the rumors were true. that the hero association made you work with villains,” she said, her tone in clear disdain at you and your two lovers.

you looked away, eyes moving over your team. yeosang looked slightly surprised by her words while jongho, seonghwa, and wooyoung – surprisingly – remained neutral. san; however, looked at winter with a match of disdain, his eyes narrowing on her. like he was trying to figure her out.

“especially her,” you heard winter say, you snapped your attention back to her, her eyes boring right into you, “everyone knows how dangerous she is.”

“watch your fucking mouth,” san snapped, his voice sharp and glare icy as he stepped forward.

“san,” wooyoung’s tone is one of warning, “don’t start.”

“i’m not starting anything,” he shot back, “but i’m not going to stand here and listen to some crap nonsense.”

“nonsense?” winter scoffed, “she’s a clear liability. i’m surprised the association even let her out.”

“enough!” san’s voice booms through the room, silencing winter who stares at the villain in shock, “you don’t know anything about her.” he hisses, pointing a finger at her in warning.

but then wooyoung steps up, “and you don’t know what to back off,” he counters, stepping closer to san. “you’re so blinded by your feelings for her that you can’t see the truth. is her pussy really that good?”

before anyone could react, san punches wooyoung which in turn sends the hero stumbling back and falling to the ground. blood drips from wooyoung’s nose, jaw clenched as he turns to look back at san.

“say that again, wooyoung. i fucking dare you,” san’s fist are still clenched, waiting for wooyoung to once again run his mouth.

wooyoung stands up, blood smearing across his face as he attempts to wipe it away, but before he could do anything further with san, yeosang steps between them. “guys, stop!” his voice is sharper and more commanding than you have ever heard from the usually soft-spoken hero. “we have more important things to deal with right now, and none of them involve fighting each other.”

seonghwa comes and places a calming hand on san’s shoulder, his voice low, “let’s go.”

san hesitates, his gaze landing on wooyoung before turning and lingering on winter for a moment before turning away. “this isn’t over,” he mutters, allowing seonghwa to guide him and you out of the room.

as you walked away, you notice san glancing over his shoulder, eyes narrowing once more. you know he was suspicious about winter, something clearly not sitting right with him about her. but he didn’t say anything to either you or seonghwa. keeping his thoughts to himself, you couldn’t deny the sense of unease settled around you three.

ateez compound – common room – few days later

the atmosphere in the compound had grown overwhelmingly thick with tension over the past several days. winter, oblivious to the tension she was causing, settled into a room and easily integrated herself into the team’s space. her injuries healed surprisingly fast, and she often roamed the halls, stopping sometimes to exchange casual remarks with her fellow heroes.

wooyoung, for one, didn’t seem to mind her presence. spending more time with her than anyone else has, sharing meals or discussing tactics. he calms he just wants her to feel welcomed, but yeosang tells you he thinks otherwise. winter’s willingness to integrate herself so quickly, barely mourning the grief of her teammates, made san’s suspicions grow with each passing day.

“she’s not who she says she is,” san muttered under his breath during a meeting in the common area. you had chosen to stay in your room, shutting yourself away from everyone. the absence of mingi and the growing tension making you unable to tolerate being in the same room as the others. wooyoung especially.

wooyoung let out a dramatic sigh, slamming his cup down on the table. “for the last time, san, she’s a hero! she’s on our side!”

“and you’re so sure of that?” san shoots back, voice low but clearly full of distrust. “she just shows up, conveniently alive after her entire team is killed, and we’re supposed to believe she’s fine?”

“what’s your problem, huh?” wooyoung counters, standing up from his chair. “are you mad because someone else is able to see how much of a liability you two and y/n are? that you should’ve stayed in prison to rot?”

san’s eyes darkened, his collar digging into his skin, and his fists clenched at his sides, “don’t you dare bring seonghwa and y/n into this.”

“oh, i’ll bring them into this,” wooyoung says, stepping closer and voice rising. “you’re so suspicious of winter, yet ever since the three of you joined, the number of demon attacks have also increased! and how convenient that when y/n is sent on a mission there’s not one, but two demons from the twelve moons that show up! how is that not suspicious!”

seonghwa, who had been silently observing from the corner, finally speaks up, “both of you, enough. arguing isn’t going to help anything, especially when we need to be a team more than ever.”

“she’s dangerous,” san says through gritted teeth, pointing towards the hallway where winter had disappeared moments ago.

“and you’re paranoid,” wooyoung snaps back, brushing past san as he leaves the room.

san exhaled sharply, jaw tight as he sat back down, his mind racing with uneasy thoughts. jongho who had stood at the front of the room let out an annoyed sigh, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“great meeting everybody, glad we got things accomplished,” he says sarcastically.

ateez compound – y/n’s room – ████

your room was shrouded in a heavy stillness, the air thick with the weight of your grief. the blinds were tightly shut, casting the space in darkness. you lay curled up in your bed, knees drawn to your chest, staring at the blank wall. your heart ached with the guilt that continuously gnawed at you, an endless replay of mingi’s final moments in your mind. it was fucking awful.

a soft knock broke through the silence, but you didn’t respond. had you even heard the knock in the first place?

the door creaked open, and seonghwa stepped inside, carrying a tray of food. his footsteps are quiet as he nears you, as if he understood the weight of the room and how it demanded silence.

“y/n,” seonghwa’s voice is soft, laced with concern, “you need to eat.”

“i’m not hungry,” you reply, voice hoarse and barely audible.

seonghwa sighed, setting the tray down on the bedside table before making his way over to the blinds and turning them just a hair to where light was shining in. the room now shrouded in a form of twilight. seonghwa lowers himself onto the edge of your bed. his gaze gentle but insistent, even if you can’t see him. your back facing him, you remain unmoving.

“you’ve been in here for days. yeosang is worried. we all are,” he tells you, but you know that’s not the case. wooyoung surely isn’t and jongho just chooses to remain… neutral. you know hongjoong would have already killed you if he was here. it felt like a countdown just waiting for him and yunho to return.

you chose not to respond, gaze fixed on the same spot on the wall. the silence stretched between the two of you, heavy and unyielding.

without a word, seonghwa shifted closer. he reached out, his hand tentative and slow as he carefully reached up to brush some hair away from your face. his touch was warm, grounding. you didn’t deserve it. “y/n,” he murmured, voice breaking slightly. “please, don’t shut me out,” you feel your heart clenched.

you eventually turned your head to look at him, eyes glassy with unshed tears. “i failed him,” you whispered, voice trembling. “if i hadn’t been injured in that fight with yena then i could’ve saved him.”

seonghwa’s heart twists at hearing the anguish in your voice. he lays down beside you, pulling you into his arms. you tried to resist for a moment before giving up, collapsing against him, burying your face in his chest.

“you didn’t fail him,” he said softly, voice steady despite the emotions threatening to spill over. “you did everything you could.”

“i could’ve stopped that bastard, seonghwa. i could’ve–

you cut your own self off as the tears you had been holding back finally broke free. body shaking as the tears began to soak through seonghwa’s shirt.

“no,” he says, tone firm but gentle. he titled your chin up, forcing you to look at him. “you couldn’t have known. you couldn’t have done anything differently. don’t let this guilt consume you, y/n. you saved all those people on that train from that demon. you did something.”

you stared at him, tears spilling over as your lips quivered. “i feel like i’m drowning,” you confessed, voice barely a whisper. “i can’t breathe. i can’t… i can’t do this.”

seonghwa’s arms tighten around you, his forehead knocking gently against yours. “you’re not alone,” he said, voice shaking slightly. “you hear me? you’re not alone in this. i’m here, san’s here, yeosang even. and i’ll always be here.”

your sobs grew louder, emotions spiralling out of control. the room around you both began to shift. the walls ripped like waves, furniture flickered in and out of existence, and the air seemed to hum with an unnatural energy.

seonghwa noticed but didn’t falter. he held you tighter, attempting to ground you with his presence. “breathe with me,” he whispers, voice soothing. “in and out. just focus on me.”

you clung to seonghwa as if he were your lifeline, your ragged breaths slowly matching his steady rhythm. gradually, the room settled. the walls returned to their solid state, the flickering ceased, and the unnatural energy faded away.

you pulled away slightly, face streaked with tears. “i’m scared,” you confessed, voice unstable as you continued. “i’m scared of losing control and hurting people i care about.”

seonghwa cups your face with his hands, thumb gently wiping the tears away. “you’re stronger than you think,” he tells you, voice filled with a quiet sureness. “you’ve been through so much and you’re still here. still fighting. that’s what matters most.”

you feel your lower lip tremble as you search his eyes, finding only unwavering support and affection. unwavering love. “i don’t know if i can continue doing this alone,” you admitted softly.

“and you won’t,” he tells you, “you have us. you have me.”

for the first time in days, you feel a flicker of something other than guilt and grief. hope, perhaps? you let out a shaky breath and rest your forehead against his once again. “thank you,” you whisper, voice full of raw emotions and eyes looking at him with sincerity.

seonghwa smiles soft, his arms still wrapped around you, “always,” he tells you, leaning over to pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

you felt your breathing steady and tears finally stop, you allowed yourself to lean into him, feeling the weight of your grief just ever so slightly begin to lift. it was good to be reminded that seonghwa was here – san too – and that you weren’t alone.

ateez compound – winter’s room – night

winter walks down the quiet corridor, her footsteps light and measured as the compound has settled into its usual nightly rhythm. her expression remains neutral, composed – a perfect mask of calm that easily hid the storm beneath. each step brought her closer to her room, where she knew she could let her guard down for a moment.

she pushed the door open with a soft creaked sound. her hand instinctively reaches for the light switch, but she immediately freezes.

someone was sitting on her bed.

the faint light from the hallway cast a silhouette that is both commanding and terrifying. lady nicha.

the door closes behind winter as she immediately drops to both knees, bowing deeply, her head pressed against the cold floor. her voice was steady as she spoke, “lady nicha, i wasn’t expecting you.”

the air in the room felt heavy, suffocating, as if the walls themselves bowed to nicha’s presence. she sat clearly relaxed on the edge of the bed, her posture deceptively casual, but her eyes shined with a predatory sharpness. she tapped her painted, burgundy fingers against her knee. each movement deliberate, echoing in the tense silence.

“rise,” she then commands, voice smooth yet still laced with authority that left no room for discussion.

winter raised her body off the ground, still kneeling with her head slightly bowed. her star-patterned shawl shimmering in the moonlight that peeked into the room. “such a disguise you have,” nicha says, voice tilted with fake amusement.

nicha’s lips curved into a slow, wicked smile. “you’ve done well, wonyoung,” she purred, her voice a mix of praise and menace. “to think, they’ve welcomed you so easily and trusted you. allowed you to even sow discord among them, but, ah, i guess that part wasn’t so hard considering their distrust among each other.”

wonyoung tilted her head, her expression one of pride, “it’s as you planned, my lady. the seeds of doubt and tension are starting to blossom. they’re starting to fray at the edges.”

nicha stood, the air around her growing heavier still. she approached wonyoung, her presence overwhelming. each step she took seemed to dim the light in the room, shadows pooling at her feet and seemed to have a mind of their own. “good,” she said, voice low and deliberate, “but your work is far from over.”

wonyoung met her gaze for a moment, unwavering despite the oppressive and powerful aura that surrounded nicha. “what would you have me do, my lady?”

“take them out,” she says, tone sharp as a blade. “one by one, if you must. but the female villain, y/n…” she pauses, her eyes narrowing, a cruel smile playing on her lips. “she must suffer. break her and her power will surely destroy the rest.”

wonyoung nodded, her expression determined, “i won’t fail you.”

nicha’s smile widened, though it held no warmth. she raised a hand, her fingers brushing wonyoung’s cheek in a mockery of affection. the action, nonetheless, still sent a chill down wonyoung’s spine. “see that you don’t. i have no use for failures.”

the room seemed to pulse with nicha’s presence, the walls vibrating faintly as if the very fabric of reality bent to her will. “remember, child,” she continued, her voice a whisper that felt like a scream to wonyoung. “my power is what allowed you to stand here. do not make me regret granting it to you.”

wonyoung bowed her head again, voice firm, “i will not disappoint you, lady nicha.”

nicha laughed softly, a sound that sent more shivers down wonyoung’s spine. “good,” she said, her form beginning to dissolve into the shadows that slowly gathered around her. “then go, prove yourself worthy of the power i’ve bestowed upon you.”

with her final words echoing inside the room, nicha’s presence dissolved, leaving the room eerily still. the oppressive weight lifted, but her dominance remained a lingering sense. like a phantom hand clutched wonyoung’s throat, reminding her to not fail.

then, as the last traces of nicha’s aura faded, wonyoung straightened up, standing up from the ground as her face hardened. “y/n,” she mumbled, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her features. “let’s see if you’re as strong as they say you are.”

with a resolute breath, she turned in order to begin preparing for the next phase of her plan. nicha’s commands echoing in her mind, a constant reminder for the price of failure. failure that wasn’t an option for her.

ateez compound – common room – the next afternoon

the morning light streamed from the compound’s windows and into the common room where jongho and yeosang were. a faint buzz from jongho’s phone interrupted their conversation, which leads him to glancing at the device before quickled opening the message.

“what is it?” yeosang asks, noticing the subtle tension in jongho’s shoulders.

“it’s from hongjoong,” jongho replied, voice low. “i told him and yunho about winter being here and what she said happened to her team.”

yeosang frowns, “do you think it's about that?”

jongho didn’t respond immediately, his eyes fully focused on the message as he read it. yeosang notes his face slowly drain of color, hand tightening around the phone. yeosang is afraid the younger hero is going to crush the device if he doesn’t let up.

“jongho?” yeosang says, his concern growing. “what does it say?”

jongho hesitates, swallowing the lump that forms in his throat, voice with an unusual tremble as he replies, “they found her team… what was left of the bodies were recovered.”

yeosang’s brows furrowed at the news, “that’s awful, but why do you–

“winter’s body was found with them,” jongho cuts him off, voice shaking.

a chilling silence falls between them, the weight of jongho’s words sinking in. yeosang’s eyes widened in disbelief, “what?”

jongho hands him the phone, letting him read the message himself, “hongjoong says we need to be careful. whoever’s here with us isn’t winter.”

“we need to tell the others now,” yeosang says, despite his mind racing at the sudden thought of potential danger within their own compound.

jongho nodded, his expression grim as they split up.

ateez compound – outside training grounds – afternoon

you sat outside of the compound, enjoying the quietness of nature, but still trying to process everything that has happened over the past few days. your eyes flickered up towards the sky where you saw several crows flying around in a circle. five crows to be exact. their cawing sends a chill down your spine for reasons you can’t quite explain.

odd, you think to yourself. the last time you saw a crow was right after mingi–

the door behind your flies open and you turn to see yeosang running outside towards you. his urgency cutting through the peaceful air. “y/n, we have a problem.”

you meet yeosang halfway, placing a hand on his shoulder, “what’s wrong?”

“winter isn’t who she says she is. her body was found with her team,” he says, not wasting any time

your eyes widened as you process his words, “you’re saying… she’s an imposter?” san was right then, his suspicions that something wasn’t right with winter were true.

yeosang nods his head, “yes. hongjoong just sent the intel. whoever’s been with us all this time isn’t winter. we need to act now.”

you looked at yeosang, voice calm but urgent as you spoke, “then let’s move. we can’t let her make the first move. where are the others?”

ateez compound – training room – afternoon

in the training area, seonghwa stood next to winter on the sidelines as he watched san and wooyoung spar. jongho enters the room, heart pounding as he approaches wooyoung.

“wooyoung,” jongho calls out, trying to keep his voice steady as he gives a cautious look to winter. “i need to talk to you. it’s important.”

wooyoung raised an eyebrow, pausing his sparring. after years of working with jongho, he realized that something was wrong with the youngest. he was nervous despite being able to mask it well for the others in the room. “what’s up?”

“let’s talk somewhere else,” jongho says, glancing at winter out of the corner of his eye.

winter tilted her head, faint smile playing on her lips, “why can’t you say it here?”

jongho hesitated, but before he could answer, san stepped forward, having also picked up on the shift of jongho’s eyes. san’s own eyes narrowing that the female hero, “maybe he doesn’t want you to hear it.”

winter’s smile faltered, her expression sharpening, “i don’t see why that would be a problem? unless, of course, you’re trying to hide something.”

san let out a dry laugh, the tension almost touchable at this point, “funny, i was about to say the same thing to you.”

wooyoung stepped between them, his own frustration boiling over, “can you stop? this isn’t the time–

“actually,” jongho interrupts him, voice slightly louder now, “this is the time.” he adds as he takes a deep breath, his eyes locked on his teammate. “winter’s team was found, and so was she. dead.”

the room fell deathly silent.

then the sound of an unsettling laughter broke it.

the longer the laugh went, the louder and unsettling it became. all eyes turned to winter, who straightened her entire demeanor. she no longer looked like the hero, but instead her platinum blonde hair turning a pitch black. eyes becoming sharper, more dangerous. what were once brown shifted into an unnatural green, her pupils also shifting to where 상위육 could be clearly read. her once delicate features twisted into a cruel smirk as she looked at the group.

“well,” she says, her voice dripping with mockery and fake disappointment, “it seems the charade is up.”

san stepped forward, fists clenched, while wooyoung could only stare in shock and betrayal. jongho then spoke up, voice steady and firm, “get ready! this isn’t over!”

wonyoung’s smirk widened, her confidence unshaken, “oh, i’m counting on it.”

wonyoung’s shawl, now wrapped around her waist appears with a snake-patterned, shoot out from her arms, snapping toward san. the sudden attack forces san to leap back, just narrowly avoiding being impaled. wooyoung stumbles back in shock as the ribbons carve into the wall, leaving deep gashes.

“she’s a demon!” seonghwa says right as the room erupts into chaos with the ribbons coiling and striking with lethal precision. wonyoung whirls, her snake-like ribbons extending and retracting at her will, smashing training dummies and throwing debris into the air. san ducks under one ribbon and slashes another with his hardened blood. the severed ribbon falling lifelessly to the ground.

seonghwa turns to both wooyoung and jongho, “go, we’ll handle her!” jongho nods his head, turning towards wooyoung who is clearly hesitating for a moment. jongho grabs the older by the arm pulling him out of the training room.

“come on, wooyoung, we need to send a message to the association!” wooyoung snaps out of his daze and nods, the two males rushing out and leaving the two villains to take care of the demon.

“not just any type of demon, too, but a part of the twelve moons,” san says with gritted teeth. “but her upper six status means she should just be child’s play.”

seonghwa moves in from the side, his strikes calculated, but wonyoung twirls gracefully, her ribbons creating a barrier that easily deflects his attacks. she laughs, her voice echoing eerily throughout the room.

“you think you can defeat me? how adorable.”

one ribbon wraps around san’s arm, lifting him off the ground and slamming him into a wall. he lets out a groan but manages to twist free and lands on his feet just as seonghwa launches a flurry of attacks. his sheer strength blowing through several of wonyoung’s ribbons. the demon’s movements are fluid, almost dance-like, as she dodges and counters.

“she’s toying with us,” seonghwa says to san.

“not for long,” he replies before charging forward, his blood shaped into hardened weapons. he slices through one of the ribbons, which recoils with a hiss, but two more easily snap towards him. seonghwa intercepts, his fist catching the ribbon mid-strike and easily ripping it apart.

“impressive, but let’s see how long you last,” wonyoung purrs. she then slams her hand into the ground, ribbons erupt in every direction, tearing through the floor. san and seonghwa are forced to separate, dodging the onslaught. san sprints along the edge of the room, dodge debris, while seonghwa rushes head on, leaping into the air for higher ground.

“seonghwa, now!”

seonghwa drives his clawed fist downward towards wonyoung. she blocks with her ribbons, but san takes the opportunity to strike from the side, slicing through another ribbon and grazing her arm. wonyoung hisses in pain, her composure faltering for the first time.

“you’ll pay for that!” she snaps, her ribbons lash out wildly, one catching seonghwa in the side and throwing him across the room. he crashes into a pile of rubble, groaning in pain. san dodges and weaves, landing another strike on wonyoung, but she quickly retaliates by wrapping a ribbon around his ankle and yanking him off his feet.

“let… go, damnit!” san swipes his blood through the ribbon, slicing it and rolling to his feet. he and seonghwa regroup, their breathing heavy. “been awhile since we’ve been this out of breath together, huh?” san comments with a smirk making seonghwa roll his eyes.

wonyoung glares at them, blood trickling from a wound on her forehead, “enough of this!” she extends her arms, ribbons converge into a massive, writing mass above her head. with a deafening crack, she sends it crashing down towards the two villains. they dive in opposite directions, the impact leaving a large crater in the floor.

“we need to end this now,” seonghwa says, a frown drawn across his face. san nods, his expression grim. they continue to launch several attacks, san striking high while seonghwa goes low. wonyoung struggles to keep up, her movements becoming more erratic as the two villains close in. finally, san manages to land a deathly blow, his blood blade slicing through her neck in one clean cut.

wonyoung’s head falls from her body and to the floor, her body slumping to the floor on her knees. seonghwa and san are left panting, their bodies fighting to keep up with the fight they just went through. they both look down at the demon’s body, and that’s when they notice that wonyoung’s head and body isn’t disintegrating.

instead, wonyoung’s head rolls around, body jerking to life as she begins to wail like a child, her voice piercing and unsettling. the sight of her still being alive sends a chill down both villains’ spines.

“what the–

“this isn’t fair! this isn’t fair!” she wails out, fisting slamming against the ground as fat crocodile tears run down her face. “i was supposed to kill you all! devour you all! oppa, help me! oppa!”

seonghwa and san freeze, expressions a mix of confusion and horror as they watch wonyoung’s body begin to convulse. her body jerks forward as the sound of flesh tearing fills the air as wonyoung’s back splits open. san is quick to realize another figure was crawling out of her body and jumps straight into action.

his blade striking down, dusting covers the room as wonyoung’s cries fall silent for a moment. and for a split second san and seonghwa both think he’s managed to kill the new demon.

“shh, i’m here,” a voice speaks behind both of them. both seonghwa and san whirl around to see the new demon crouched in front of a still sobbing wonyoung. reattaching her head to her body like it was nothing.

“sunghoon-oppa, it's not fair!” wonyoung cries out as the male demon gives his sister a crooked smile.

“it’s okay now,” he says, patting her head before standing. his eyes matching wonyoung’s reading 상위육 – upper six – and his expression is hardened. “i’ll take care of them. go handle the others,” he says, addressing wonyoung. wonyoung nods, her ribbons snapping menacingly as she quickly teleports away.

before either villain can react, sunghoon teleports behind them, his movements too fast to track. “shall we begin?”

san lets out a huff as he grabs seonghwa and rushes out of the training room and into the courtyard of the compound. sunghoon easily follows after them, his body emanating dark, almost snake-like energy. instead of ribbons like wonyoung, sunghoon has dangerous, fang-shaped blades coming out of his forearms.

“you gave up your humanity, was it worth it? becoming a puppet for the villains just to survive?” san asks, eyes narrowing as looks at sunghoon.

“i didn’t do this for survival,” he replies back coldly, but there’s a faint undertone of pain almost, “i did it to protect my sister. everything i’ve done – every choice i’ve made was to keep her safe.”

seonghwa steps forward, voice sharp, “and now you’re dragging her into the abyss with you.”

sunghoon’s smirk falters at seonghwa’s words, “the abyss is kinder than the world that the hero’s call justice. the heroes and their association… they don’t protect anyone. you should know that better than anyone here.”

without warning, sunghoon attacks with his blades clashing against san’s blood. san manages to roll away, sending blood spikes towards the demon who easily dodges them.

“you talk big, but i don’t see much strength,” san says.

sunghoon chuckles at san, “you haven’t seen anything yet.”

sunghoon continues to launch himself at the two villains, his blades clashing and creating sparks as seonghwa and san either parry his attack or dodge them. one of sunghoon’s blades manage to cut against seonghwa’s arm, the male hissing as he looks down at it.

“his blades are poisonous,” seonghwa hisses out.

“then we’ll need to hurry up and kill him before the poison kills us,” san says, jaw clenched as he used his blood to create two swords, tossing one to seonghwa who easily catches it with his uninjured arm. the fight only begins to escalate as sunghoon launches a flurry of attacks, twirling in the dance with his blades, glistening with venom, attempting to slice and cut at both san and seonghwa.

seonghwa trembles, feeling the weight of his injury and battle getting to him. he knew he could never fully control himself when he transform, but seonghwa knew that his monstrous strength would help push them to win against this fight.

the air around them began to grow colder with a creeping chill that seeped into the bones of both san and sunghoon. san attempted to reach out to seonghwa, but with one shove it sent san flying back and tumbling to the ground.

“fuck,” he mumbles as he watches seonghwa. his body contorting with an unsettling and sickening sound of sounds cracking as his frame elongated. joints bending in grotesque and inhuman angles. his skin took on a deathly pale, almost translucent hue – it was the complete opposite of his usual sun-kissed skin – veins began to pulse dark and prominent beneath the surface.

his once calm and calculating expression now twisted into something monstrous, a predator. his teeth sharpened, canines elongating like his body did into jagged points where the sole purpose was to tear at flesh. san felt his heart sink as he continued to watch as seonghwa’s eyes even turned into black voids that looked at every and anything with an unnatural and sick hunger. his fingers stretched, nails hardening into proper, monstrous claws that were just waiting to tear into its next target.

sunghoon looked at seonghwa’s monstrous form, completely caught off guard and his usual strong facade faded for a moment. “what are you?” he hisses out, “what kind of demon are you?”

seonghwa responded with a loud roar that sent shockwaves across the area and he lunged at the demon with his large, grotesque form. seonghwa was able to attack sunghoon with his bone-like antlers, slashing into the demon and sending him flying backwards and leaving a deep.

san is able to adjust quickly, using seonghwa’s sudden transformation and attacks as distractions to land more precise strikes.

ateez compound – control room – night

yeosang lets out a shaky breath as he reached the control room. running over, he begins to type frantically on the condole, sweating beading down his forehead as he attempted to contact both hongjoong and yunho, but also the hero association. suddenly, the glow of the monitor flickers as a shadow looms behind him. he feels his ear twitch as the sound of a faint hiss, wonyoung’s ribbon snakes dart forward like some fanged vipers.

you burst in, sword slashing through the first set of ribbons before wonyoung can even register that you are in the room. the severed ends writhe on the floor before quickly retracting. the ends you cut off, fell to the floor seemingly turning back into pieces of fabric.

“go! send the message, yeosang!” you shout to him as you stand between him and wonyoung. hesitates for a moment, looking between you and wonyoung. “now, yeosang!” you shout louder. yeosang nods before quickly sending the message.

you can hear his ragged breathing, clearly surprised and a little terrified by the demon in front of you both. you turn to look at him for a moment before gesturing towards the door. “be careful,” he whispers before making a bolt for the door. wonyoung’s head tilts as she watches him flee.

“heroes are so predictable, always running,” she taunts with a hiss.

you roll your shoulders, sword gripped tightly between your hands, “looks like it's just you and me.”

wonyoung lets out a tsk sound before lunging at you, her ribbons weaving in intricate patterns, each one snapping towards you like a striking snake. you manage to parry most of them with your sword, slicing through some as sparks fly with metal meeting energy.

“you can’t keep this up forever,” wonyoung says with a smirk.

“good thing i don’t need forever,” you told her, breathless and through gritted teeth. you roll to the side as a ribbon smashes into the console behind you, shattering the screen. you charge forward, slicing through multiple ribbons, but one catches your ankle, yanking you off balance.

you land hard, coughing as the wind is knocked out of you. before you can recover, a ribbon snakes around your wrist, picks you up and slams you into the wall. blood trickles from your forehead, some of it running into your eye, but you quickly wipe it away.

“what’s the matter? too weak to save yourself?” wonyoung asks mockingly, her ribboned snakes almost floating around her like extra arms. you grit your teeth, eyes glowing faintly as you feel your power begin to flare. you channel your energy into your sword, severing the ribbon holding your wrist.

“you talk too much,” you say fiercely. you lunge again, blade igniting with light. wonyoung retreats, her ribbons forming a barrier around her. you leap, slashing downward with all your strength. the barrier shatters into pieces of limp fabric, and wonyoung stumbles back, clutching a deep wound across her shoulder.

wonyoung scowls, her ribbons writhing wildly around her, “you’ll regret that!”

wonyoung summons more ribbons, these even more thick and serpent-like that before, ones with glowing eyes and fangs. they hiss and dart towards you, and you just barely manage to dodge them. one snake grazes your side, tearing through your uniform and leaving a deep, bleeding gash.

you press your hand against the wound, feeling that the snake had torn through the stitches of your wound and made it even deeper. blood pooling out and staining your clothes a deep burgundy. you let out a small hiss in pain, managing to steady yourself as you look towards wonyoung with narrowed eyes, “i’ve faced worse than you.”

“i can guarantee you’ve never faced someone like me.”

the fight continues to become more intense, the control room becoming a battlefield of destroyed debris and shredded fabric everywhere. your sword blazes as you cut through the ribboned snakes, but wonyoung is relentless as her snakes continue to regenerate faster than you can destroy them

jongho and wooyoung rush into the control room, when they arrive they find the place basically destroyed and you on one knee, blade digging into the ground for support.

wooyoung immediately feels his rage build up, turning to wonyoung who looks at the three with a mocking smile, blood dripping from her wound you had given her earlier. “you lied to us! tricked us!” he says furiously, his fist catching on fire.

“and you fell for it so easily. how pathetic,” she says, clearly amused by wooyoung’s anger.

wooyoung begins to charge, but you reach out to grab his arm, stopping him. “don’t let her get in your head. it’s what she wants,” you say weakly.

wooyoung simply glares at you, ripping his arm out of your grasp like you’re the one with fire powers, “she doesn’t deserve mercy!”

“wooyoung, focus! don’t let your anger get you killed,” jongho snaps.

“oh, how sweet,” wonyoung says with a laugh, “the little team trying so hard to hold it together.”

you give both wooyoung and jongho a look as you steady yourself, sweat dripping from your forehead and mixing with blood. you can slowly start to feel the blood loss beginning to affect you, but you push forward and ignore it. the three of you quickly begin to attack in unison, combining abilities in order to overwhelm wonyoung. jongho slams his fists into the ground, sending shockwaves that manage to throw the demon off balance. wooyoung sends several fire and ice blasts towards her ribbons, even sending ice shards that pin them to the walls.

you take advantage of the opening, rushing forward and delivering a deep slash across wonyoung’s abdomen.

wonyoung lets out a snarl, “you think you’ve won?” her ribbons explode outward, throwing the three of you back. jongho grunts as he takes the brunt of the impact, shielding you and wooyoung.

“thanks,” you say breathless to jongho.

“don’t thank me yet,” he says.

wonyoung begins to unravel, her ribbons coming together to form a massive snake that towers over you guys. she sends the snake striking downward, its mouth opening up and ready to swallow you whole. wooyoung; however, leaps at the massive snake head, fist ablaze as he strikes it and easily catches it on fire. it screeches as it burns and dissolves, but another snake wraps around him and constricts him.

“wooyoung!” you yell as jongho rushes up and grabs the snake, able to pry it off of wooyoung. his raw strength easily overpowering it. the three of you regroup, panting and bloodied.

“keep your head in the fight. we need to end this,” you say, pointedly towards wooyoung who refuses to meet your eyes in the moment.

jongho nods, “together.”

you guys decide to combine your power, jongho creating another shockwave to destabilize the demon, wooyoung’s ice shards pinning her in place, and you channeling your remaining energy into your blade.

“it’s over,” you say, leaping forward and delivering the killing blow, severing wonyoung’s head. she lets out a loud cry as her head goes flying, your powers being able to create a large crater in the wall that connects you all to the courtyard where you can see san and seonghwa’s monstrous form fighting sunghoon.

in the courtyard, sunghoon falters for a second as wonyoung’s cry echoes through the compound. his distraction allows seonghwa to attack with feral blows. while san lands a devastating blow, driving his blade across sunghoon’s neck and sends his head flying.

sunghoong’s head lands towards where wonyoung’s head had landed. wonyoung crying out for sunghoon, tears streaming down her face.

“oppa… i’m scared,” she says weakly, the tears continuing to fall.

“it’s okay, little one, i’m here,” sunghoon says back, voice breaking as he begins to watch as wonyoung’s body and head dissolve. seemingly not caring that his own is doing the same thing. finally, their bodies and head turn to ash, the wind blowing them away.

seonghwa falls to his knees, having transformed back into his human self. you limp towards san and seonghwa, collapsing next to seonghwa, arms wrapping around him as the tension in the air remains heavy.

“it’s okay,” you say quietly as you hold seonghwa in your arms, just like how he has done for you.

ateez compound – courtyard – dawn

the team gathers, battered and bloodied, in the courtyard. the compound was completely destroyed by the two demons. hongjoong and yunho rush in, their expressions dark and grieve-stricken as they take in the scene before.

“what happened?” hongjoong asks, voice low and slightly commanding.

“we stopped them,” jongho answered, exhaustion heavy in his voice as he leaned against a piece of debris.

you lean against a wall, glancing down at your hands, yeosang doing his best to patch your wound up. san sitting next to seonghwa, still comforting the villain, calming hand running down his back. wooyoung stares blankly, fists clenched.

“i trusted her…” he says quietly.

“she fooled all of us. don’t put that on yourself,” jongho says firmly. he turns to hongjoong and yunho before quietly filling them in on everything that happened. otherwise, you and the rest of the team sit in silence, the weight of the destroyed compound heavy in the air.

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART II

#snakesandplottwists #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez imagines #poly ateez x reader #ateez superhero au #ateez scenarios #ateez angst #ateez san x reader #ateez seonghwa x reader #ateez yunho x reader #ateez wooyoung x reader #ateez dark au

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seokmthw · 9 months ago

Text

in the fire | sung hanbin

⇢ pairing: hanbin x reader

⇢ warnings: dystopia au, zombie apolocalypse au, angst, some fluff, slow burn, major character death, vomiting, blood, gore, violence, explicit language, mentions of/implied assisted suicide (this is the best way to describe it)

⇢ synopsis: a deadly virus has broken out and left the world in shambles as everything you once knew gets flipped upside down and you're fighting for your life alongside your best friends. the three of you decide to follow a pair of strangers to a city that supposedly has an entire community of people, but you didn't realize the amount of horrors you would have to endure along the way.

⇢ word count: 19.08k

⇢ note: i am SO proud of how this turned out, it's one of my favorite fics i have written to date. the plot moves kind of fast but i feel like that happens with most zombie apocalypse media, so i hope you guys don't mind. if you want to listen to the playlist i listened to during the making of this while you read, here it is. i hope you enjoy :]

JOIN MY TAGLIST!

“y/n, wake up!” the deep slumber you were in felt as if it didn’t last very long due to the familiar voice of one of your best friends, taerae, shaking you awake.

you groaned, stirring around beneath your covers, swatting his hands away from you, “what, taerae? i was sleeping so good.”

“that’s not really important right now,” his voice was hushed, a hint of anxiety laced within his words. it was extremely unlike him, and within mere seconds you were opening your eyes and staring at him, sitting up from your cocoon, brows furrowed in concern, “what's wrong?” you asked, observing him as he began rummaging through your bags hanging on the back of your bedroom door.

he tossed your largest backpack at you, “we need to go, within the next few minutes, actually. pack only the essentials.”

“why?” you inquired, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and touching your feet to the chilly hardwood floors. you were greeted with silence, trying to get your tired brain to catch up with taerae’s actions of grabbing some of your personal hygiene products and tossing them on the bed next to you.

you become frustrated with the boy, snapping, “taerae, what is going on? you can't just barge in here and tell me to pack some of my shit and then not tell me why.”

he stopped dead in his tracks, shoulders tense and a sigh slipping past his lips. he turned to face you, the fear he was feeling clear on his expression now. you searched his face for anything that might be an indicator of what it was, but the words he uttered were something you never expected, “there was just a nationwide announcement broadcasted on the tv that said the most recent round of flu shots contained a nasty string of some virus in it and it's mutating in people’s genes,” he explained, “the people who got it are going crazy and freaking out on everyone around them. biting them, clawing at their skin, swallowing whatever bits of flesh they can get their hands on. it's complete madness. they want everyone to travel to some hospital a few hours north of here.”

you couldn't help the way your jaw fell slack at his gruesome words. people eating other people? there was no way this was happening. you were surely dreaming, or taerae was pulling your leg and taking it a little too far; it wouldn't be the first time he's done something like this during your time being friends with him. you shook your head, balling up one of your shirts and chucking it at him, “stop fucking with me, dude. i can't believe you woke me up for this.”

“i’m being dead serious, y/n,” the bewilderment in his eyes and the nervous bobbing of his adam’s apple was hard to miss, “ask hanbin if you're really that skeptical. you know he would never seriously joke about something like this.” he took your backpack from your hand and began shoving things inside of it, motioning for you to seek out hanbin and find out for yourself.

you pushed past him and out into the hallway, feet padding gently against the floor into the living room where the television was quietly humming in the background. you focused your attention on that, snagging the remote from the coffee table and turning the volume up. on the screen was your local news channel, an anchor braving what seemed to be utter chaos behind them.

/reporting to you live from the streets of atlanta. since the news of the virus outbreak, madness has struck the city. people are in a frenzy, desperate to get out and find some sort of safety. it is highly advised you form a group with whoever you are near now and leave as soon as you can. i will provide you with more updates as they com-/

before the reporter could finish her sentence, someone came barreling up behind them, snapping their neck cleanly. you watched in horror as the reporter’s body crumpled to the ground and the culprit followed suit, crawling on his hands and knees to get to the exposed flesh of their neck. the culprit sniffed deeply before he began ripping their throat out, blood pooling near their head and their face quickly becoming unrecognizable. the look in the culprit’s eyes was nothing short of evil and you felt as if you were going to vomit just watching.

“y/n, there you are!” the sound of hanbin's panicked voice caused a wave of fear to course through your veins. you yelped in surprise, quickly whipping around to face him, taking in his expression, a backpack of his own secured on his back not going unnoticed by you.

this was real. and it was serious.

you felt tears well up in your eyes at the sight of him, still digesting what you had just witnessed on the television. he glanced over at the screen, catching a look for himself, and was quick to shut it off so you didn't have to see anymore. he approached you gently, but you were quick to cling to him, desperate to be grounded, to have a sense of security after being woken up to such intense news. you felt his arms envelope you in an embrace, his hands cupping the back of your head as you whispered, “i’m terrified, hanbin.”

“i know,” he consoled, trying his best to keep his voice steady, “i am too, but we can't let that control us right now. we have to be logical and level headed. let’s go find taerae and get out of here.”

you nodded, pulling away from him, feeling your heartbeat speed up in your chest at the way he wiped your tears away, the softest of smiles on his face. he tilted his head in the direction of your bedroom, and you followed behind him, shaking your head at yourself. now was /not/ the time for you to be dwelling on the crush you developed on him. at this point, you weren't sure if there would ever be a time, but you were hardly worried about it.

you entered back into your bedroom, having seen taerae was almost finished with packing your backpack full of things. you thanked him quietly and apologized for freaking out on him a few minutes prior, earning a small smile from him in return, “i understand why you didn't believe me at first, so it's really okay.”

“so what’s the plan?” you asked, now taking the bag from taerae’s grasp and slinging it over your shoulders.

“i suppose we attempt to get wherever they're saying to go,” hanbin answered. you looked outside of your window, catching a glimpse of the chaos a few streets over, a cynical laugh erupting from your lungs, “looks like that’ll be easier said than done.”

the three of you made a collective decision to at least try, because maybe you'd be guaranteed safety that way. you stayed clustered together tightly upon exiting the house through the front door, every sense on high alert as you kept your eyes peeled out for anyone you suspected might be infected by the virus. you felt as if your heart was in your throat, adrenaline coursing through your veins in a way it never had before.

you slunk to taerae's suv, opening the doors to get in as quietly as you could muster, though you knew it would be harder to keep its old doors from squeaking too loudly. you hopped in quickly, desperate to get out of there and to a place where you wouldn't have to fear so much, and hopefully live in peace until this entire thing blew over.

out of habit, taerae shut the door loudly, and the panic that sank to the pits of your stomachs was enough for taerae to kick it into high gear and speed out of your neighborhood as fast as he could. loud, gutteral shrieks from infected chasing after the car could be heard – the sound was unmistakable. you tried your hardest to keep your head down, to not look, because you genuinely felt like you'd throw up at any given moment.

but your efforts were cut short from the sounds of the tires screeching and taerae yelling, your gaze flicking up to see a body toppling over the hood of the car, blood splattering on the windshield and oozing from their mouth from where they'd likely just gotten done devouring someone. silence hung thickly in the air, the three of you processing everything that just happened.

“i just ki-”

taerae’s words were drowned out by the sound of you wretching in the back seat.

ii.

you never made it to the hospital. there was far too much chaos, and by the time you’d made it to a gas station, everyone had used up every last drop trying to top off before they drove up there. the three of you ended up having to completely abandon taerae’s suv, and despite the sheer amount of infected surrounding you, somehow, you survived.

your new routine had been set in place for quite some time now. find a shelter, scavenge for supplies, and repeat for a couple weeks. then afterward, you would relocate. it was really the most you could do, considering every place you deemed worthy to make a hideout ended up being overtaken by more infected than you could usually handle. you were getting pretty sick of constantly having to move around, having no stability.

you missed life before the outbreak.

it took weeks for you to adjust to seeing so much blood, or having to kill infected who hadn't completely rotted away, some eerily intact despite the virus taking hold. it took an even longer time to adjust to /killing/. it was never something you imagined you would ever have to do in your life, but by now, about a year and a half later since the outbreak, you were immune to it and it didn't bother you anymore. regardless, you still longed for the days where all you did was complain about work and bills.

having taerae and hanbin around made things a lot easier; especially hanbin. he naturally assumed the role of leader within your small group, and even more so if you had others tagging along with you. but just barely a week ago the last person of a group of about 5 you came across got bit and succumbed to the infection, leading to a huge scare of taerae potentially getting infected himself. thankfully, he wasn't, but the prospect of losing either of them to the virus made you feel nauseous.

your tasks for each day were split up so none of you experienced extreme amounts of burnout. some days were dedicated solely to rest, though all three of you felt incredibly guilty when you did that. at any given moment, you could be attacked. or not have enough to eat. or even die. one thing you all had learned the hard way was that you were never guaranteed to live through an entire day.

which led you to your current situation of trying to sneak around a nearby general store in hopes of finding some sort of supplies with taerae while hanbin protected the house you were currently inhabiting. since losing the last of your new group, you often found yourself wishing you could have at least a few more people so nobody was left alone. knowing that hanbin was currently by himself made you uneasy, especially since he couldn’t defend himself against more than two or three infected, or even other people, at once. you shook the thoughts plaguing your mind away; there was no time to think about things like that.

besides, you knew hanbin would be fine. he always was.

you gripped your knife tightly in your hand, allowing your eyes to constantly scan the aisles while you were searching through boxes in hopes of finding anything you could use. you had come to this place a couple of times since settling down a couple weeks ago, but it was nearly empty now. your food supply was running out at an alarming rate and there was only so much you could ration between the three of you before you would inevitably starve.

the moment you came across anything that was edible, you could have cried. it was the millionth can of beans you had come across since you’d been traveling and you were tired of them being the main component of your diet. it was no wonder it was some of the only food left no matter where you went. people still hated beans, even in the midst of an apocalypse.

you carefully stepped over large chunks of broken glass to avoid making too much noise so you could stand next to taerae, who was dejectedly kicking around some garbage that was of no use to any of you. smiling sadly, you asked, “have you found anything?”

“not really, no,” he answered, “i think another group of people came through here and took a bunch of supplies we had seen when we were fighting that mob last week. bastards.”

you knew how frustrated taerae was getting with unsuccessful supply runs. admittedly, you were feeling the same way. it was hard not to have a temper. but, you were actively trying to make sure you didn’t let it crush your spirits too much. if you did, you knew that it would not only bring your motivation to keep searching down, but it would take a toll on everyone else around you as well. that was the last thing you needed, especially since things were looking more and more grim each day.

“have you found anything?” he asked.

you sighed, “other than a couple cans of beans and a box of cold medicine, i haven’t come across anything worthwhile.”

taerae softly whined, and for a minute, you thought he might throw a tantrum, “why does everyone leave only beans? that’s been our diet for what feels like an eternity.”

“i know, but be glad we find anything at all. it’s better than nothing,” taerae huffed in annoyance, but ultimately agreed with your sentiment.

you followed taerae out of the store, careful not to let the door slam shut behind you. making one loud, uneccessary noise would more than likely lead to your deaths, and that wasn’t particularly something you were looking for by any means. you both refused to leave hanbin on his own. you were doubtful he could survive alone, especially if he were to encounter a lot of infected at one time.

there was nobody who was capable of that.

you set off down the road toward your current hideout. night time was creeping up on the two of you, and while you were sure the you could take on a small group of infected together, you knew you couldn’t handle any more than that. you peered over to your partner, taking note of the sour expression adorning his features, and nudged him playfully, “a little success is better than nothing at all, you know.”

“i do,” he attempted to fight the smile creeping at the corners of his mouth, “maybe you’re just bad luck. every time i go on a run with hanbin, we always find so much.”

“hey!” you exclaimed with a light laugh.

taerae shrugged, a small chuckle emitting from his lungs, “you didn’t deny it.”

you fell into a comfortable silence, the only audible sound being your boots thudding against the pavement. you felt a shiver course down your spine; this would be your second time going through this apocalypse in the winter months. it was hard to ignore the fact that it was starting to get icy out and the wind was cutting right through your thin jacket and down to your bones. you leaned a little closer into taerae, who was practically grinning from ear to ear as you did so.

“i take it you’re cold?” though he was teasing you, his arm instinctively wrapped around your shoulders. you nuzzled closer into the boy’s side, soaking up any bit of warmth he radiated from underneath his hoodie.

“no, i’m sweating buckets,” you sarcastically remarked, completely unable to mask your playful smile, “i’m actually freezing. and i think it’s starting to rain.”

taerae tilted his head up toward the sky, his dark eyes scanning the darkening gray clouds overhead. he audibly sighed, and you took note of the cold droplets of water starting to fall on top of your head and seep into your clothes. he turned to you, “we’re only a couple blocks away from the house, let’s just pick up the pace. we don’t want our asses to get mauled by infected when we’re almost back.”

you nearly stopped dead in your tracks at the sound. it was almost as if taerae was psychic sometimes, and you were hoping like hell you were just hearing things. a deep, throaty growl sounded off behind you once more, and when you turned your head to look, your eyes widened at the sight of a mob forming behind you. you supposed that this was to be expected, especially considering it had grown darker a lot sooner than it normally did, but it still put fear in your heart.

taerae gently urged you forward, “we need to go, now!”

even if the size of the mob was manageable, it certainly did not mean the two of you should take it on. the moment you were to do that, more were likely to start showing up and you would be doomed. taerae grabbed your hand as the two of you began to sprint, his grip on you preventing you from falling any further behind from your slight lack of speed. the rain had become heavier the closer you got to your hideout, skewing any good amount of vision you were hoping to have between your hair plastering to your skin and the weather limiting how far ahead you could see in front of you.

you cursed the month of december; it had always been one of your least favorite months, even before the outbreak, but now it was definitely taking the top spot for your most hated. ice had already begun to form on the road and sidewalks of the neighborhood and your boots were no longer gripping to anything. an intense jolt of pain shot through your knee the moment you lost your balance and smashed it into the pavement. you inhaled a sharp breath, struggling to regain your footing as taerae stopped to help pull you up.

“they’re getting closer! come on, y/n, we’re only a few houses away!”

you pushed your legs to keep going, no matter how much your knee was throbbing or your muscles felt like they were on fire. you desperately searched your surroundings in hopes of finding some sort of familiarity, and the moment you saw hanbin standing in the living room window of your hideout, you felt a wave relief wash over you.

taerae pulled you up the front steps of the porch, making sure you got inside before he did, and kicking an infected back into the crowd and following you so it couldn’t force its way inside. hanbin slammed the door and locked the deadbolt the moment he was able to. your legs felt like jello and there was no mistaking the heavy breathing of taerae as he was hunched over, tossing his bag onto the ground.

“did it get you?” hanbin sounded frantic as he shoved taerae’s right pant leg up, eyes scanning every inch of his skin for a mark of any kind left by the infected he had kicked back.

taerae scowled, shoving the older boy away from him with a smirk, “of course not. i would have felt it,” his gaze softened at hanbin’s solemn gaze, “i’m okay, don’t worry.”

hanbin nodded, his eyes flickering over to your hobbling frame as you attempted to make your way to the old couch you had been sleeping on since being in the house. you winced the moment you put any pressure on that knee, though, and within mere seconds hanbin had his arm snaked around your waist to help you get to your destination easier.

you sat down, exhaling a shaky breath as you rolled up your own pant leg. your entire knee was already beginning to form a deep purple bruise and blood seeped from the small scrape that you figured you would have. you gingerly poked around the wound, mentally cursing yourself for losing your footing in the first place.

“y/n took a pretty hard fall out there, i’m surprised they didn’t shatter their kneecap,” taerae spoke up.

a look of concern contorted hanbin’s face, “are you going to be able to function okay?”

“i don’t know,” you truthfully replied, “i think i can as long as i nurse it or have some sort of support. i also think it would be best if we leave and try to find another shelter somewhere, we’ve definitely overstayed our welcome here.”

taerae scoffed, “are you out of your mind? there’s absolutely no way you can travel with your knee like that, let alone fight off any infected.”

“as much as i hate to admit it, i think y/n is right,” hanbin said, “besides, we’ve wiped out everything nearby that could possibly have usable supplies. there’s no way we can survive on what little we have until y/n is fully healed up.”

“not to mention, it seems like more and more infected are showing up around you here,” you added.

your gaze locked with taerae, who looked as if he could explode at any given moment. you knew he had the best of intentions, but it was crucial you left at dawn. sighing, you reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it in reassurance and muttering, “i’ll be okay, i promise. i can hold my own and as long as we wrap my knee up well, i’ll be able to walk normally. you know i wouldn’t say any of this if i didn’t think i could do it.”

taerae finally nodded in agreement, though his expression remained menacing as his eyes flickered between both you and hanbin.

“we better get some rest, we leave the moment the sun rises.”

iii.

it had been a couple of days since the three of you had set out from your hideout. to say you were exhausted was an understatement; you hadn’t found a shelter worthwhile to stay in, so you had to make camp in the most closed off spaces you could, usually in the woods. you hardly slept; it was far too cold to stay asleep for very long at all and if you did manage to get a couple hours in, you felt worse when you woke up.

you had to eat your supply of beans straight from the can because you had no way to cook them. scarfing them down wasn’t exactly ideal, and you dealt with taerae whining about it the most out of all of you. but, food was food, and you were lucky enough to have what you did.

“if this map is correct,” hanbin interrupted the silence as the three of you continued walking down the same road you had set foot on, “this road should take us to the next town a couple miles out from where we are now.”

you felt a pang of excitement hit you, “maybe we’ll find better food there.”

“and somewhere a little more warm to sleep,” taerae added, the eagerness in his voice hard to ignore.

hanbin nodded, “we could probably make it there today if we keep up the pace we are,” he turned to look at you, “can you do that with your knee?”

truthfully, your knee felt like it was going to give out on you at any given moment. hanbin did the best he could with the little supplies you had to stabilize it enough so it didn’t hurt when you walked. it worked for the first day and half, but ever since your last stop to try and sleep, it’s been in an excruciating amount of pain.

you still assured the two with a smile anyway, “i’ll be fine, i promise.”

as the three of you continued your journey, you couldn’t help but feel like every inch of your body was going numb. being out in the cold for the amount of time you had been was definitely not good for any of you, especially since the jackets you had were suitable only for autumn-like weather. snow had begun piling up on the first day of traveling, making things even more slick beneath your boots and the chill in the air to cut through every measly layer of clothing you adorned.

you just hoped that hanbin was right about the town. for everyone’s sake.

— — —

“there’s a stream not too far from here, i’ll go and get some water while you change y/n’s bandages.”

hanbin was currently kneeling on the ground in front of you, teeth gritted together as he tried to keep from shivering too much while he focused on the task at hand, “just hurry back.”

with that, taerae set off into the woods where the stream could be seen from where your spot on a tree stump, his boots crunching the snow beneath them. one of the only perks about winter was being able to see through the usually dense areas a lot easier.

you sighed, frustrated with yourself, “i’m sorry for setting us back.”

hanbin shook his head, “you don’t have to apologize, i know you wouldn’t ask to stop for the day if you were feeling okay.”

“maybe you should just leave me for the infected, i’m more of a burden right now than anything,” you half-joked, one corner of your mouth raising in a smile.

however, the boy in front of you didn’t find it to be very funny. his frown deepened and he locked his dark eyes with yours and grabbed your hand, his fingers chilled to the bone, and a seriousness radiating from his body, “i will never, ever leave you behind, even if it costs me my life. okay?”

“the same will always go for you,” you squeezed his hand reassuringly. you would be an idiot if you didn’t admit the small smile he gave in return made your belly do backflips or the feeling of his hand in yours made you warm up just a little bit.

hanbin taped the remaining bandage together the best he could before rolling your pant leg down, careful not to roll his hard work down with the fabric of your jeans. you mumbled a thank you, standing up to make sure it was still secure and once you gave him a thumbs up, hanbin rose to his feet as well.

by now, taerae made his way back to the two of you, extending the canteen of cool water out to you. taking it graciously, you took a few good sips before passing the object to hanbin.

“what’s the plan now?” taerae inquired, scanning the brush around you in an attempt to find somewhere to set up camp for the night.

hanbin shrugged, “maybe we should wait until morning to finish the hike to the convenience store. it’s almost dark now and i would hate to travel and have that be what kills us,” both you and taerae nodded in agreement.

you parted your lips to speak, “let’s find somewhere to rest then, we have a long night ahead of us.”

— — —

you desperately clung to hanbin and taerae, craving warmth more than ever. you were to the point now that moving hurt from how cold your entire body was. the small fire you had going earlier in the evening had to be put out before you slept so it didn't attract more infected that you wanted, so it was exponentially more difficult than any of your previous nights on the road or inside an abandoned home.

morning began to break through the clouds in the sky, your surroundings illuminated by the dim light it provided to you. the snow glimmered all around you, and bad you not been freezing your ass off, you would have found it beautiful. hanbin began to stir next to you, uttering a quiet, “did you get any sleep?”

“barely,” you mumbled back, taking note of the way taerae was snoring on your other side, sleeping soundly as if he wasn't on the frigid, hard ground in the middle of winter. you envied him, because no matter where you were, he was somehow able to sleep at least a few hours.

hanbin lowly chuckled, “me either, but i’m glad to see it's going well for him.”

you peered up at hanbin through your lashes, taking in the gash just to the side of his right eye that was still healing from an encounter with a hostile group of survivors a few weeks ago. you reached up to touch it, gently tilting his head sideways to get a better look at it. you informed him, “it’s healing really well, i don't think the scar will be all that noticeable.”

“good, i’m glad,” he replied, and you missed the way his eyes followed you as you flipped around on your other side to begin rustling taerae awake. truthfully, you turned away because you were scared hanbin would catch on to the feelings you still somehow possessed for him, but waking taerae was also just as important.

taerae grunted as he woke up, surprise evident in his face; almost as if he were worried something bad was happening, but when he realized it was just you, he relaxed almost immediately. “what time is it?” he asked, and you glanced down at the watch you adorned on your wrist, replying, “just barely after six.”

your morning was pretty relaxed after that. you took your time waking up and even managed to get another fire going so you could defrost yourselves before trekking back out into the snow toward your destination. your knee was feeling a lot better since taking a break and you were able to comfortably walk on it without needing some kind of support from either hanbin or taerae.

your relaxation and bliss of the fire were quickly replaced with dread and hatred toward the cold as you trudged toward the town you were looking for. you still felt better, and your knee was much easier to walk on than previously, so you knew you'd at least be able to make it there while there was still daylight.

a soft gasp erupted from the boy on your right “what’s that up there?” the glee laced in taerae’s voice was hard to ignore upon him catching sight of gas pumps and the building next to them.

you squinted to catch a better glimpse and couldn’t help the grin tugging at either corner of your mouth, “i think we’re here!”

hanbin chuckled, “you two sound like you’re arriving somewhere for a field trip.”

you nudged him slightly, the three of you unknowingly picking up your paces in pure excitement. you pulled out your weapons upon getting closer to the gas station, eyes and ears fully alert for any potential threats surrounding the area – infected or not.

taerae extended his arm, quietly pulling the door open and holding his gun up in front of him as he walked inside. you were the next one inside with hanbin following up the rear, and once you were able to see that there was no imminent danger inside any of the rooms, you put your weapons away.

the sight you were greeted with was enough to almost bring the three of you to tears. there was at least four shelves of food and supplies that hadn’t been touched yet, which was extremely rare to come by at the point you were in with the apocalypse.

“this has been well worth the wait,” taerae piped up, tossing a box of crackers, a package of hot dogs, and a few bottles of water into his backpack, “we finally don’t have to eat stupid fucking beans anymore.”

“and we don’t have to hear you complain about it,” the eldest boy teased, mimicking the younger’s actions as he got a feel for everything there was to offer.

you headed toward the back room, flicking the light on only to be greeted with a few makeshift mattresses the people here previously had left. you searched the drawers of the desk off to your right, greeted with a pad of paper and a pen as well as a few other items you found to be useful to the group.

you tossed everything into your backpack and put it to the side, opting to tidy up the beds so everything was neatly arranged and each of the three of you had a spot to sleep. The padding on the floor was much softer than you expected it to be and you almost screeched in excitement when you stumbled upon a closet filled with thick coats.

as you finished pulling them out of the closet, the other two were entering the room with grins adorning their faces. taerae saw you struggling to hold all the coats at once and came forward to help you, laughing at your misfortune when you dropped pretty much all of them on the floor.

without a word, you began going through them and found ones in your sizes or at least close to them, sighing in content at the feeling of warmth they gave you once you slipped them on. you closed the door to the office, settling down onto the mattresses with the other two.

“do we want to stay here for a little bit before we head out again? or do we want to try and find a house?” hanbin asked, finally breaking the silence between the three of you and the analytical part of his brain speaking for him.

you leaned back against the wall, your eyes trained on the ceiling, “i would be okay with either one. right now we’re at least guaranteed shelter, even if it’s only for a couple of days.”

“maybe we can stay for three or four days and see if we can find a house nearby,” taerae suggested. you all nodded, deciding that was the best plan you could come up with.

you were just glad to have something go your way for once.

iv.

you stirred around on your spot on the floor, groggily coming out of one of the best sleeps you’ve had in months. you felt deliciously warm, sandwiched in between both taerae and hanbin, who were also just beginning to wake up.

you smiled to yourself, propping your body up onto your elbow as your eyes scanned the area around you. it almost felt too good to be true, striking the jackpot with so much in one day. it was very rare the group of you ever had more than enough food to survive for a week, especially if there was more people with you, and here you were with everything you could have ever hoped for. you felt extremely grateful.

“why the hell are you up so early?” taerae groaned, flipping his arm over to look at the time on his watch before he covered his head with a pillow.

you chuckled at him, voice a hushed whisper so you didn't wake hanbin, who was still sleeping peacefully, “i don't know, i just couldn't sleep anymore.”

taerae huffed loudly before eventually sitting up, his hair tangled and messy and eyes still shut as he gained his bearings back. finally, he looked at you, playfully annoyed, and said, “i suppose you and i can rummage around for some more stuff while hanbin rests for a little longer. he never gets enough and he seems to actually be into a deep sleep.”

you peered over at the boy fondly, taking note of his soft snores and slightly agape mouth. taerae was right, and you did everything you could to be quiet before you left. you wrote a quick note on the pad of paper you found the previous day and left it where you slept so hanbin could easily find it if he woke up and you were still gone.

you followed taerae out of the office, careful to not close the door too loudly just in case any infected had wandered in overnight. you seemed to be in the clear, and almost welcomed the crisp morning air as it hit your face and filled your lungs. there were a few other buildings nearby, abandoned cars as well, so you decided to scope them out and see what they had to offer.

as you rummaged through a bag on the ground near one of the vehicles, taerae’s straightforward question caught you off guard, “are you ever going to tell hanbin that you like him?”

you were baffled, to say the least. you glanced up at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, before you finally managed to spit out, “that is not what i was expecting to talk about while we did this.”

“that's not an answer to my question,” taerae teased.

“no shit, sherlock,” you sarcastically remarked, deciding to keep a box of matches you'd found in that bag. you pondered his question before you answered him as you rose to your feet, avoiding eye contact and feeling yourself begin to blush, “i don't know, i mean, we’re in the middle of an apocalypse, i don't think it's the right time.”

“is there ever going to be a right time?”

his question made your mind start reeling. of course you'd /thought/ about telling hanbin, but you didn't want to ruin your friendship and most certainly didn't want to make things awkward considering you had to be around him until you either died and split off in your own ways. you thought he was way out of your league, anyway. there was no way he would ever like you back. you finally looked at taerae, a smug grin plastered on his face, and you stuck your tongue out, “quit being an ass.”

“y/n has a crush~” he sing-songed, skipping in annoying little circles around you and poking your sides annoyingly. you crossed your arms over your chest, giving taerae a blank stare until he stopped in front of you, his smile even wider now “you're blushing.”

you smacked his arm, earning a yelp from him, and hastily said, “no i’m not, it's just freezing out here.”

the two of you kept rummaging around, and after several minutes, taerae had done eerily quiet. you knew he was probably scheming something, because even amidst hell on earth, he always found a way to pull fast ones on you and hanbin. you shook your head, mentally preparing yourself for whatever it was he decided to do.

but nothing came, and you were beginning to get worried. you had your upper body inside of another car, legs still dangling outside, after seeing one of the windows rolls down, and you were trying your best to grab onto a bottle of rubbing alcohol in the passenger seat. you desperately lunged for it, but to no avail. you decided to see if you could find taerae and make sure he was still alive and breathing.

you attempted to shimmy your way backward out of the car, and felt panic set deep in your stomach at the feeling of something grabbing at your ankles. you tried like crazy not scream, but frantically began kicking in an attempt to get the infected off of you. a growl was able to be heard as it pulled you the rest of the way out the car, but you were able to get leverage and fully kick it off of you. turning around, you reached for your knife on your holster, fully prepared to kill it, but stopped with your hand gripping the handle upon seeing taerae standing behind you, mocking an infected far too well.

“damn it, taerae!” you exclaimed, whacking him on the chest with your hand, “i could have killed you!”

he pointed menacingly, “but you didn't.”

“having fun out there?” the sound of hanbin’s voice broke the two of you out of your bickering, heads turning to see him leaning against the door frame of the gas station convenience store, a small smile curling up the corners of his lips, “looks like he got you good, y/n.”

you groaned in annoyance, “i can't believe you saw that,” you pushed taerae for good measure, “and you thought it was funny.”

hanbin shrugged, laughing along with you, “what can i say, i love a good prank when i see it.”

you continued this little escapade at the gas station for a few days, more because the office was much warmer than outside and less because there was a plethora of supplies. all of the surrounding buildings ended up being a bust, completely ransacked before you even got there. thankfully you had the gas station, but it was only a matter of time before you would have to relocate. again.

the three of you were sat in the office on the foam pieces you'd been using to sleep on, looking at the map smoothed out in front of you to determine your next route. you pointed to a small town north of where you were, but before you could say anything about it, you were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of voices and rummaging out in the main area of the building. you turned to the other two, eyes wide in panic, “do you hear that?”

“yeah,” taerae was already moving to get up, his hand reaching for his gun placed on the desk beside him, “it sounds like people are trying to take our shit.”

“taerae, don’t” hanbin attempted to stop the younger boy from leaving the room, but his words went through one ear and out the other. his impulsivity never failed to amaze you.

you sighed, shaking your head as he opened up the door, completely giving away your location to whatever was out in the main lobby. you rose to your feet as well, quick to follow him out and grab his hand in a futile attempt to pull him back and keep him from going on an unintentional murder spree.

you were greeted by the bewildered gazes of a couple of boys, both very obviously malnourished and freezing, hands up in the air upon seeing taerae’s gun pointed at them. the boy in front of you two spoke up, subconsciously moving in front of the other one in a means to protect him from any harm.

“we aren't infected, i swear, we’re no threat to you,” his voice held both confidence and fear at the same time. you felt your gaze soften at their petrified expressions.

you heard a harsh slap. “ow!” taerae exclaimed, turning around to face the eldest in your group, who had a grin on his face. taerae's hand gingerly rubbing the back of his head.

he looked at the others, “you’ll have to excuse him, he can be a bit of a dickhead at times.”

you shoved taerae’s arm down, preventing him from holding the two at gunpoint any longer. he defeatedly sighed, tucking the weapon away into his pocket. he gave hanbin a scowl before muttering, “sorry.”

“that’s okay,” the taller boy spoke up, “we apologize for intruding, but we haven’t been able to eat for three days now and we were just happy to find supplies.”

“take whatever you want,” hanbin motioned to the shelves in front of them, a kind, gentle smile causing his eyes to take the shape of tiny crescents.

“thank you,” the boy opened up his bag, “i’m gunwook, by the way,” he motioned to the boy standing next to him, ”and this my brother, gyuvin.”

he smiled, giving a small wave, “nice to meet you.”

“nice to meet you too. i’m hanbin, and these are my friends taerae and y/n,” hanbin replied. he seemed almost giddy that you’d come across more people to speak and potentially form a group with.

you cleared your throat, pointing your thumb at the office, “you guys look like you’re freezing, we found some coats if you want some.”

a wave of relief washed over gyuvin, “yes please, this is all we’ve had since winter started creeping up. i’m surprised we haven’t gotten frostbite yet.”

you led him back into the room you slept in, opening up the closet door to reveal the remaining coats. you helped him find his size, and when he couldn't zip it up from how stiff his fingers were, you did it for him, smiling at him afterward. gyuvin smiled back, but it held a hint of sadness. you didn't want to inquire why, especially since you’d just met them.

he sifted through them and picked out one for gunwook. “thank you so much, really,” he sounded more grateful than you had felt when you first found them, “i’ve been really worried about what would happen the deeper we get into winter.”

“it’s not a problem. we weren’t going to use them anyway,” you looked at him as you began walking back to the rest of the group, “are you just passing through or finding somewhere to stay?”

gyuvin made eye contact with his brother, as if he were scared to say anything, but gunwook gave him a nod of approval. he parted his lips to speak, facing the entire group, “we’re actually headed to seattle.”

“for what?” taerae inquired, brows furrowed in thought, “from what i’ve heard, it’s a dead city.”

gunwook chimed in, “a few people we met not too long ago told us they were going out to try and find others to bring back to this community they’ve built and sent us on our way. apparently they have a farm, horses, and a lot more supplies than people like us could ever hope to have,” he seemed so hopeful at the prospect of so many resources.

“if you want, you guys can come with us. it would probably be a lot more beneficial to travel in a larger group anyway,” gyuvin offered, mainly making eye contact with hanbin since he was the one who appeared to have the most authority in your group.

he looked a bit hesitant, scanning the faces of both you and taerae, “do you guys want to talk about it?”

“yeah,” taerae was quick to answer, pointedly looking at the other two, feigning a fake smile, “we’ll be right back.”

the three of you locked yourselves away into the other room. taerae turned around, the expression on his face unreadable, but his words shocking both you and hanbin, “i think it’s a horrible fucking idea.”

hanbin scoffed, “and why is that?”

“these people literally just showed up not even ten minutes ago and you’re giving up our supplies and considering going with them to some community that we aren’t even sure exists,” taerae exclaimed, “plus, we /just/ lost the last of the other survivors we picked up. i’m sick of losing the people we grow close to.”

“i don’t know, taerae, i think we can trust them,” you told him, “besides, it’s better to have a larger group. you have to admit, traveling and finding supplies has been a lot harder with only three of us,” his shocked gaze met with yours and you did your best to reason with him, “they are extremely malnourished and only came to try and find food and you’re mad about that. what if it was us instead of them?”

he opened his mouth to retort something, but quickly closed it and shook his head, staring down at the floor. you gave hanbin a knowing look, a small smile on your face.

he nodded, “it’s settled then. we’re going to seattle.”

vi.

as you walked with your newly formed group, you couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. taerae was right; you were still navigating the feelings of your other group mates dying, but you were still less anxious when there was more of you together. you had almost given up hope that there even was anyone else.

taerae had remained silent almost the entire time you had been traveling. he was still nervous about grouping together with the strangers you had met the previous day, which you understood, but you were confused as to why it was suddenly a problem when you'd done it countless times before. another thing that bothered you was the fact that he was giving both you and hanbin the silent treatment. you scanned the other three in front of you, who were conversing about when they should set up camp for the night, and sighed, grabbing taerae's arm and making him wait until you were a few paces behind. hesitantly, you met your gaze with his, your voice as stern as you could make it when you spoke.

“what’s your problem?”

taerae looked taken aback by how blunt and straightforward you were with your question. his bewildered gaze almost immediately went back to the scowl he had previously been adorning. he shook his head, his response short as he said, “it’s nothing, y/n.”

“well, you sure aren’t acting like it’s nothing,” you retorted, rolling your eyes at how stubborn the boy was being. however, your gaze softened upon seeing his frown deepen, “talk to me. this isn’t like you.”

taerae pondered your words for a moment before finally admitting his worries to you, “i guess i’m just scared.” “scared about what?”

“getting close to them and losing them like we did the others. they could be selfish, too. we don’t know a single thing about them and if we get in a situation where someone’s life is on the line, i fear they’re going to leave us without much thought,” his voice grew quiet upon his confession. you swore you could feel your heart break in your chest at his next words, “i can’t lose you and hanbin.”

you reached out and laced your fingers with his, squeezing gently in reassurance and forcing him to look at you, “as long as you, hanbin, and i are loyal to each other, that’s all that matters, right? all we have to do is back each other up if the other two happen flake on us.”

taerae’s eyes were glossed over in clear appreciation for your words, his grip tightening on your hand, “thank you.”

“you don’t have to thank me. it’s what i’m here for,” you teased, nudging the boy playfully with your shoulder. the smile on his face was refreshing to see after having him upset the entire day since leaving the gas station.

the two of you caught back up with the rest of the group, who had come to a halt to scope out the area surrounding you all. the woods appeared to be significantly thicker, which provided more protection from any of the infected that lurked in the shadows at night. it would also be easier to make a shelter to sleep in overnight.

gunwook turned, asking the two of you, “what do you think?”

taerae was the first to speak, “i think it’s definitely a decent spot for now. it looks like we might be able to have an area for a fire as well.”

to say you were shocked was an understatement. hanbin shared a look with you, a grin threatening to tug at the corners of his mouth. you knew the eldest was worried that taerae was going to stay in his funk for days on end, but the look of relief was enough to cause you to feel it too. the boy winked at you, asking the group, “should we split into shifts to keep watch over everything?”

“i’m not opposed to the idea,” gyuvin piped up, pulling his coat closer to his body. it was clear he was still freezing despite having a lot more warmth than when you first met him, “i can take the first one if you want.”

it was your turn to pitch in, “i’ll join you, it’s best to work in teams of two.”

he gave you a grateful smile. you honestly thought that he’s someone you could wind up being really good friends with. you just wished it didn’t have to be because the apocalypse brought you together.

— — —

the evening came quickly once camp was set up for the night. hanbin and gunwook had managed to get a pretty decent fire going considering the fact that most of the wood you all found was damp or frozen from the snow. you all had welcomed the warmth with open arms.

since everyone was able to take most of the supplies from the gas station, the thin foam that you had used for mattresses the night before were now neatly laid out on the ground in a dense thicket of trees that had already formed somewhat of a shelter. It was certainly a lot better than what you, hanbin, or taerae had made in the past.

one thing taerae was particularly happy about was being able to warm up some of the food you guys had. he even accepted the beans with a smile instead of turning up his nose to them, which caused both you and hanbin to giggle at him.

the five of you sat around the fire, recounting your stories of what happened when the outbreak was first announced. taerae was laughing his head off, stating, “y/n really thought i was joking when i went into their room and told them what was happening.”

you threw a wadded up wrapper at him, “in my defense, he is constantly messing with me,” you looked at gyuvin and gunwook, who were laughing along with you, and joked, “watch out for him, because soon he'll be pranking you guys too.”

“what were you guys doing?” hanbin asked the two of them, and they sat deep in thought for a moment, gyuvin finally telling them, “i’m pretty sure we were staying the night at our brother’s house. if i’m remembering correctly, it was a friday, and we usually did stuff together after school.”

“yeah, it was, i think we were getting ready to go out to dinner,” gunwook added, “and instead of getting in the car normally, it felt like we were the main characters of an action movie or something. ricky drove like a maniac.”

you laughed at the image you had in your head of not only their experience, yours as well, “taerae ran one of our neighbors over when we were trying to get off of our street.”

gunwook’s eyes widened, his smile stretched from ear to ear as he said, “becoming a murderer early on, i see.”

your laughter began to die down as the sun started to set, and your playful conversation turned into solemn ones. hanbin stared at the dancing flames, quietly asking, “i hope this isn't prying too much, but how did it end up just being the two of you?”

gyuvin sighed. you could tell this was a touchy subject, but he was willing to answer hanbin's question, “he got turned not too long ago. we got ambushed by the biggest mob of infected we’ve ever encountered since the outbreak,” his voice cracked as he said the next part, “he shielded us the entire time we were fighting them.”

“he ended up getting bit and made us tie him to a tree so we would have time to run,” gunwook’s solemn gaze made your heart twinge in sadness for them. you couldn't imagine losing hanbin or taerae like that, if at all, and wondered how your new friends were even managing to push through.

taerae gave the pair a close-lipped smile, “it sounds like he was an amazing brother to have.”

“yeah,” gyuvin seemed deep in thought, a stray tear racing down his cheek, “he was.”

— — —

as soon as darkness engulfed the woods, gunwook, hanbin, and taerae settled down and drifted off to sleep, which left you and gyuvin sat by the fire to keep watch over the camp. the boy was sat across from you, his knees drawn up to his chest and his gaze fixed on the flickering flames that illuminated his face. he was practically glued to gunwook’s side.

softly, he questioned, “hey, can i ask you something?”

you glanced at him, confusion painted across your features, “of course, what’s up?”

he sighed. it looked like he was contemplating even saying something to begin with, but finally, after you assumed he won his internal battle, he asked, “does taerae hate gunwook and i or something? he seemed angry when we first met and i don’t want us to intrude on whatever the three of you were hoping to do.”

“no, he doesn’t hate you at all,” you reassured, which caused his shoulders to visibly relax. you fell silent for a moment, gazing over at the boy who was curled up as close to hanbin as the eldest would allow. he looked so at peace, which you rarely ever saw from him. you turned back to the boy across from you, “he’s just incredibly protective of the two of us. it’s really been only us together since the start of all of this and he doesn’t want to lose either of us, is all.”

“i completely understand that,” gyuvin replied, shifting to now lean back against the tree stump behind him, “i hope you never have to go through what we did, that's for sure.”

“could i ask you a question now?”

gyuvin nodded, “sure.”

“i noticed this the other day, but you just seem to get sad whenever i’m around, and i wanted to make sure it was nothing i was doing,” you were hoping that you didn't seem like you were accusing him of anything, and he most definitely didn't take it that way.

he offered a sad smile with his answer, “you just remind me a lot of ricky, is all. you guys are very similar in terms of personality.”

“well, i know i can't ever fill his spot, but i can still be there to support you throughout this entire journey we’re on.”

a small cry escaped gyuvin’s lips as he angrily wiped his tears away from his cheeks, “thank you, it really means a lot to hear that.”

once he collected himself, the two of you fell into a comfortable conversation, telling stories from your childhood and even some crazy ones of times where you thought you were going to die in the midst of the apocalypse. for the first time in a while, you felt content. at peace, even.

you hoped it would happen more often.

— — —

the woods were serene at night when you didn't have to fear for your life. the soft chirps of the crickets, the occasional hoot of an owl, and even the crackle of the fire brought you a sense of comfort and security you hadn't felt for a very long time; since the start of the apocalypse, really. but for whatever reason, you just couldn't sleep.

maybe it was because you were thinking back on your conversation with taerae and the concerns he expressed about losing you or hanbin. or maybe it was the added stress of gyuvin and gunwook’s story. it could have been something entirely different, but you just couldn't doze off for the life of you.

you huffed out a frustrated sigh, eventually sitting up from your cocoon on the ground and scanning the areas surrounding the fire. the only one awake was hanbin, taerae having dozed off again shortly after being woken up for his shift. hanbin insisted he didn't mind, especially since everything seemed to be relaxed, but you still felt bad he had to stay awake entirely on his own.

he glanced over at you, gentle smile quirking up the corners of his mouth as he whispered, “can’t sleep?”

you shook your head as a response, eventually making your way over to his post and plopping down next to him, the fire emitting a slightly warmer flow of air in your direction. hanbin peered down at you, a fond smile ever so slightly on his lips, and you swore the butterflies in your stomach might give your feelings away. instead, you scooted closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder and fixing your gaze on the fire.

you could feel the pressure of hanbin’s head resting on top of yours, his voice almost inaudible as he asked, “do you think anything will ever return to normal? like sometime in the future, do you think there's a chance things will go back to the way they used to be?”

a heavy silence hung in the air as you pondered his question, absentmindedly beginning to pick at a string hanging down from inside of hanbin’s coat sleeve. you could feel your eyes begin to gloss over as you thought about the nights you'd spend pestering hanbin while he attempted to do his coursework for college, or how you'd always give taerae advice on songs he'd written on his guitar. everything was so much simpler, so much /better./

“i don't think so,” you gave your honest response to him, “i mean, everything is destroyed and gone. it'll take years and years to even get rid of the infected, let alone rebuild the entire country to what it used to be,” a shaky sigh from you followed suit to your words, leaving hanbin to think on them.

he clicked his tongue, “then i guess we’ll have to make a new normal, right?”

“i suppose so,” you hummed, “but how would we go about that?”

“i don't know, but hopefully we’ll figure it out.”

conversations with hanbin were always something you treasured. he gave you new perspectives on things that you wouldn't have even considered before and logically thought through everything. you admired him for that, and it was one of the many reasons you developed feelings for him in the first place. but you knew, deep down, that you wouldn't be able to live the life you wanted with him. you doubted he even returned your feelings.

besides, there would always be infected in the way.

vii.

having new friends that you actually got along with made a huge difference in your travels. there was a lot more team work, laughs, and supplies that you were able to get your hands on. it was arguably the most productive you'd ever been and the quickest you had gotten to know strangers. it felt like you were friends for your entire life.

it didn't take gyuvin very long to catch on to your feelings for hanbin, and soon he was teasing you alongside taerae when you weren't in earshot of him. gyuvin’s antics were far less intense, and he asked you lots of questions about why you'd grown so fond of the eldest boy. he listened with open ears and was able to see the mannerisms that hanbin displayed easily after your conversations with him.

it felt nice to just gush to someone who would listen to you.

you were currently attempting to break into a shed to see if there was any useful weapons inside considering gyuvin’s was starting to give out on him. you lunged forward, hitting your hip into the rotted out door, and it gave way easier than you thought. you coughed as dust and wood chips rained down toward the dilapidated floors.

there was a lone infected inside, which was fighting for its life to even hobble over toward you, and you swiftly put it out of its misery, watching in disgust as it crumpled to the floor. you stepped over its now limp body, gyuvin's following closely behind, exploring the shed further than just standing in the doorway. you kept your knife out just in case you were to come across anymore, eyes scanning your surroundings in an attempt to fine something that would hold up.

“i don't think this is a question i asked you yet,” gyuvin broke the silence, “but have you ever considered telling hanbin how you feel?”

you had to hold back from bursting into a fit of laughter, taking a deep breath, before you chuckled, “you and taerae are so similar it's crazy.”

you ducked under a cobweb in front of you, careful not to disrupt it in fear of a spider crawling on you. gyuvin mimicked your actions, inquiring, “why do you say that?”

“he asked me the same exact thing.”

you were now standing in front of a wall of rusted weapons. gyuvin looked slightly defeated, but instead of dwelling on that, he turned his attention back to you, “well, it's not a horrible question. i mean, it's better late than never, right?”

you just giggled at him, crouching down to open up a door on a workbench, “i guess so. maybe i will someday, when we’re in seattle or something. that way if he rejects me, i’ll have a home to go into and sulk.”

gyuvin’s cackle echoed inside the barn. you flared up at him, pulling the machete you found out from the self, pointing it at him jokingly, before you threatened, “keep it up and i’ll cut your head off with this and feed it to an infected.”

“hey!”

you handed your find to gyuvin, who admired it in awe, mouth slightly agape and a plethora of thank you's slipping past his lips. the two of you made your way back outside, meeting up with the other three who were attempting to get a car started, but to no avail. gunwook was turning the key in the ignition but had no success of getting the engine to turn over.

“i take it this whole car thing is a lost cause?” you inquired, looking at the three of them inquisitively. taerae and hanbin had their heads underneath the hood of the car, inspecting the engine in order to, what you assumed, find out what was wrong with it.

gunwook attempted to turn the key again, and while the vehicle made sound, it was more along the lines of grinding than anything else. he finally looked at you and gyuvin, “i think so, we’ve been working on it for an hour now and nothing has worked.”

“i mean, we’ve walked this much already. we really can't miss what we never had, right?” gyuvin reasoned as he attached his new machete to is pants.

gunwook shrugged, “i suppose so,” he looked almost bummed out, “it just would have been nice to take a break from walking.”

hanbin shut the hood of the car, now gaining your attention. his hands were smeared with grease and a fine layer of sweat had broken out across his forehead. you blinked a few times, finally finding it in you to tear your eyes away from him.

you parted your lips to speak, motioning to the road ahead, “guess we better get moving while it's still light out.”

— — —

you’d volunteered to take the last shift of watch for the night. you knew you wouldn't really be able to sleep anyway, so you didn't mind, and would rather everyone else get some well deserved rest instead. this was a common thing for you now, not being able to sleep. you just couldn't get your mind to ever shut up. usually, it was creating the most morbid scenarios, which would either cause nightmares or for you to be so paranoid you felt you had to stay awake.

you supposed that's what came with life during an apocalypse, but it didn't make it any easier. you wished so badly that you could just go back to normal, or that this was just some cruel, twisted dream you could wake up from. but it wasn't, and you were stuck here fantasizing about a life you would never have again.

the fire crackled softly, illuminating the surrounding area in a peaceful orange glow. you could hear the soft breaths of everyone, a slight snore emitting from taerae, and you smiled to yourself. seeing the people you'd grown to care about so still and calm brought a sense of comfort to you, and almost made it feel like you were at a sleepover of some sort.

you heaved a sigh, drawing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on your arms. you sat like that for a while, mind reeling with all the opportunities you were missing out on, and a stray tear raced down your face. there was gentle rustling next to you, and soon after, hanbin rose up from his place on the ground, a sleepy smile stretching across the expanse of his face.

“i feel bad you're not getting any rest,” his voice was raspy with sleep as he spoke. he shifted his body so he could be sitting up next to you. he extended his legs in front of him, a yawn catching him by surprise, “if you want to try and get some before we leave, i can take over watch.”

you pondered it for a moment, finally nodding in defeat, and began to stretch out on the ground yourself. however, he caught you off guard, putting his lap, and murmuring, “you can use me as a pillow if you want, i know not having one isn't the most ideal.”

you could feel your heartbeat in your throat at his offer, silently nodding as you shifted your weight around, finally settling onto the ground and lowering your head onto his thighs, a content sigh slipping past your lips. you had to admit, he was right, and you didn't think you would be doing this when you first woke up that morning. hanbin pulled the blanket over you, enveloping you in a warmth you hadn't felt in a very long time.

delicately, he threaded his fingers through your hair, and your eyes fluttered shut at the contact. you sighed contentedly, mumbling a soft, “thank you,” to which hanbin chuckled quietly.

the feeling of his hand massaging your scalp caused your body to relax much quicker than you thought it would, and you were soon fighting to stay awake and relish in the feeling of it. before you finally succumbed to sleep, you swore you could could hear him barely whisper, “i’ll be here when you wake up, my love.”

viii.

“y/n, hanbin, wake up!” a voice pulled you from the surprisingly deep slumber you had fallen into despite the frigidly cold temperatures. an extremely panicked voice, though, the person’s hands gripping your shoulder and shaking you lightly in an attempt to get you to hurry.

you shot up from your nest of blankets and hanbin’s legs, body close to taerae the moment you did so. your gaze locked with his, and instantly, you knew something was horribly wrong. he was quick to answer your suspicions, “infected, there’s a lot and we need to get moving,” hanbin cursed quietly under his breath next to you, angry at himself for even dozing back off in the first place.

quick to get on your feet, you began shoving the blankets into your bag - rather haphazardly, might you add - your hands shaking from the anxiety you felt from the situation. hanbin remained close to you throughout the process, packing away the food you guys had left sitting out through the night. you glanced around, taking note that the other three were still within your line of vision, and you felt slightly relieved knowing everyone was still in a general vicinity of one another.

a deep, rumbling growl resonated to the left of you. you turned, being greeted by an infected with outstretched arms haphazardly swinging at you, and his jaw hanging slack as he approached you. his flesh was missing in chunks around his cheekbones and his eyes were beginning to sink in from the disease. his hair was in matted, pale blonde tufts on his head. you’d never gotten the chance to actually see an infected’s features in tact like this before, and to say you were shocked was an understatement. he must have been freshly turned.

you scrambled backwards the closer he approached, pulling your knife out from its holster on your pant leg. however, the pained cry of gyuvin stopped you from killing it right then and there.

“ricky?”

the walker turned his head quickly at the sound of his name and you felt your heart lurch in your chest. the boy was attempting to run forward, but gunwook was able to wrap his arms around him before he could make it any further, “gyu, you can’t, there’s no saving him. you know that.”

you made eye contact with his brother, desperately searching for what to do, but his solemn and knowing expression told you everything. he turned gyuvin around, pulling him close to his chest, one of his hands holding the back of his head as he sobbed, “don’t look, okay?”

to ensure you didn’t overthink what you were about to do, you swung your knife forward, sinking it deep into the side of ricky’s neck. he sputtered loudly, dark crimson blood spraying out from the wound and onto your hand and sleeve of your jacket, some of it speckling on your face in the process. you twisted the knife and pressed your boot to his chest to shove him away as he fell, throwing your bag onto your back in a haste.

“come on, there’s more following in behind him,” hanbin grabbed onto your arm the moment you hesitated, realizing just exactly what you had done.

it wasn’t supposed to be difficult killing infected, yet here you were.

you followed behind him, meeting up with the rest of the group before everyone began to run on the same road you had been following to seattle. none of you really had time to take in everything that had happened in the past five minutes due to the large mob following hot on your trail, their wicked screams echoing through the empty fields that surrounded you.

your breathing was erratic, legs and lungs both burning from the amount of energy you were putting into getting away from them. the road was slick with thick ice and it made it difficult to get any sort of traction. over the yelling, you were able to make out taerae’s voice, “keep an eye out for any kind of shelter!”

you squinted, scanning for anything up ahead that could prove useful to the group of you. however, gunwook was the first to notice something, “right over there! it looks like an old farmhouse!”

you took a sharp turn onto the gravel driveway that led up to quite a tucked away house, pushing your legs to go faster. the sooner you got there, the better it was for the group overall. the mob behind you was starting to lessen the more you ran, thankfully, and by time you got to the front door the five of you only had to kill a few before you could stop and catch your breath.

nobody hesitated to go inside, careful to clear each room and make sure infected hadn’t wandered in. taerae rounded the corner of the kitchen, announcing, “i think we’re safe for now. we should probably rest for a minute before we leave again.”

“would it hurt to explore? see what this place has to offer?” gyuvin asked, the tremble in his voice hard to miss as he spoke. tears stained his face, streaked through the layers of dirt caked on his cheeks and revealing the pale skin beneath it. he was suffering, and rightfully upset, so you knew there was no consoling him until he was able to calm down and have some time to just himself.

hanbin gauged everyone’s reactions, eyes resting on your blood splattered face, gaze softening. he parted his chapped lips, stating, “honestly, depending on what’s here, we could always stay for a few days and actually think of a better plan instead of just winging it and something like this happening again.”

“i’d have to agree on this one,” gunwook replied, “i don't want something like that to ever happen again, really.”

everyone wordlessly began to rummage around in the house, searching for anything that could be useful. you took note of how clean the place was despite the apocalypse occurring in the outside world. you turned into the bathroom, twisting the knob of the faucet on as a joke, only to be pleasantly surprised at the sound of running water. “guys! the water here works!” you called, dipping your finger under the stream, excitement bubbling into the pit of your belly, “and it’s warm!”

“the pantries and fridge are stocked full of food as well,” hanbin piped up, the excitement evident in his voice, “and there’s power? this place is loaded!”

“the people who were here previously must either be out or newly turned,” taerae remarked.

it only brought you to the harsh reality of what had just happened.

your gaze snapped up to your reflection in the mirror. ricky’s blood managed to get smeared across your cheek and mixed into the dirt and grime that had made a home on your skin quite some time ago now. your hand was stained red and your sleeve still heavily damp with blood, which you swore you could smell, and it made you feel sick.

you hurriedly shut the door and fell to your knees in front of the toilet, wretching at the stench and realization that you killed someone’s brother, gyuvin and gunwook’s brother, and you had to live with that for the remainder of time you were with them. a soft cry pushed out of your lungs as you vomited again, completely emptying the contents of your stomach, and you felt you couldn't do it another time. you flushed the toilet and sighed, staring at yourself in the mirror once more.

a quiet knock was able to be heard on the bathroom door and you opened it, greeted by hanbin, who’s eyes were concerned and his lips were contorted into a deep frown. “y/n?” hanbin’s voice was soft, “are you okay?”

and you burst into tears.

hanbin pulled you close, his embrace strong around your body. you were sure you’d collapse onto the ground if he wasn’t holding onto you at that moment. he rocked your bodies slightly, humming into your ear as a means to calm you down in some sort of way, “you did what you had to do. gunwook wouldn’t have told you to do it if he didn’t think it was necessary.”

you tried like hell to get the butterflies in your stomach to go away as he pressed a quick, comforting kiss to the crown of your head. not when you had just killed gyuvin’s brother and you were reaping the consequences of that.

you shook your head, getting ready to respond to him, but were stopped by the sound of gyuvin choking on his sobs as he sat on the couch. gunwook’s voice attempted to comfort him, “i know it hurts, but you and i both know ricky would rather be put out of his misery than stay infected.”

“i could have prevented this all, wook, that’s the problem.”

“don’t do that to yourself. he wouldn’t have let you stay with him no matter the circumstances,” gunwook reassured him, “let’s go see about a bath for you and clean up, yeah? maybe that’ll make you feel better.”

their voices faded away as they headed upstairs. you gripped onto hanbin tighter, fists balled into the fabric of his jacket, letting out your own cry. you wouldn't blame gyuvin if he hated you for the rest of your time together. you would be angry if the roles were reversed, so you couldn't even fault him for that.

“y/n, i think maybe we need to do what gyuvin and gunwook are doing and get you cleaned up,” hanbin was gentle with you, pulling away from the hug slightly to get a better look at your face. his thumb came up to wipe the fresh tears away from your eyes, and you found solace in how nicely he was treating you.

you sat there for a moment, relishing in the feeling, before you pulled out of the hug to avoid getting overwhelmed with any more emotions, shrugging your jacket off to rid yourself of the reminder of what you’d done not even an hour ago. you sat down on the toilet after putting the lid down and allowed hanbin to get a shower started, your entire body going numb in the process.

at this point, you hoped an infected would take you.

viiii.

you felt unusually warm, though you weren’t complaining in the slightest. sighing softly, you shifted around on the mattress beneath you, tired eyes attempting to open but failing miserably. an arm was slung lazily around you, soft breaths of the sleeping boy in front of you the only thing able to be heard other than the rustling of the blankets.

you finally gained the energy to open your eyes, at least halfway, and you were greeted by the sight of a peaceful looking hanbin, his hair sitting beautifully across his forehead and his lips curled up slightly in the corners.

your heart felt like it was found to beat out of your chest. You had cuddled with both him and taerae a number of times throughout your attempts to survive, but never like this. you were the only one in the room with the dark haired boy, eyes trained on his serene face and your stomach doing backflips.

hanbin took a deep breath, his eyelids fluttering open, and he gazed at you with a quiet chuckle. he parted his lips to speak, voice deep and raspy from having just awoken from his slumber, “good morning, sleepyhead.”

“i don’t think i’m the sleepyhead here,” you giggled, poking your index finger into his chest, “i was awake way before you were.” you paused before asking, “how did i end up in your bed, anyway?”

though he woke up with a slightly playful demeanor, it quickly faded with a frown that tugged harshly at his lips, his brows creased and his eyes searching yours, “i figured you were too out of it to remember. you had a really rough night trying to grasp the fact that you killed ricky. taerae had fallen asleep relatively early and i just offered for you to sleep in here so you didn’t have to be alone.”

you were so caught up in the bliss of feeling safe and warm you almost forgot about ricky.

hanbin caught on quickly to your mood change and to the fact that tears instantly glossed your eyes over. he reached his hand out, calloused thumb collecting the liquid as it dropped down onto your cheeks.

“you did what you had to,” he reassured.

all you had to offer him was a sad smile, “it definitely doesn’t feel like it. i wouldn’t be surprised if gyuvin doesn’t talk to me at all, i know if the roles were reversed i wouldn’t say a thing to him.”

he opened up his arms for you, inviting you to snuggle deeper into his chest. you obliged, allowing the boy to hold you while soft sobs erupted from your lips. quietly, he said, “once he realizes you did it out of good intentions he’ll come around. i know he will.”

you nodded, trying your best to convince yourself that what he was telling you had some sort of truth to it. you closed your eyes and relished in the boy's embrace, fearing that he would be able to hear how loud your heart was beating while you laid with him like this. you felt his lips graze your forehead, his warm breath fanning across your skin as he said, “i have something i wanted to tell you.”

you opened your eyes back up at his words, looking at him inquisitively, “what's that?”

“i know now might not be a good time, but i just wanted to tell you that i have a c-”

he was interrupted by the sound of knuckles rapping against the door to your shared room, “hanbin?” taerae’s voice called from the other side.

the door knob twisted and he swung it open, beginning to step into the room before stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of the two of you cuddled up together. his posture was still and something unreadable flashed in his eyes, his tone monotonous as he spoke, “apparently i’m interrupting something, but i just wanted to let you know that gunwook is almost done cooking breakfast for whenever you decide to join us.”

with that, he shut the door rather harshly in his wake, the sound of his heavy footsteps receding down the stairs the only thing filling the silence he left behind. sighing, hanbin was the first to speak, “i assume he’s in one of his moods.”

“probably so,” you agreed with a nod, “i’m going to head down and attempt some sort of damage control. maybe we can finish this conversation later?”

hanbin nodded, “okay, i’m going to change my clothes and i’ll be down after that,” he replied offering you a soft, reassuring smile as you slipped your boots on and opened the door.

once you reached the dining room, you took note of taerae’s hostile attitude as he shoved scrambled eggs down his throat, his facial features set in a deep scowl. he looked up when you entered, shoving his chair back, the legs scraping harshly against the floor. the boy rose to his feet and stalked past you, spitting, “i’m going on a walk.”

“you can’t go alone, it’s too dangerous,” gunwook called out in an attempt to get taerae to stay within the confines of the farmhouse.

taerae scoffed, “i don’t think i fucking asked.”

he stepped out onto the front porch and began walking down the gravel driveway, his hands shoved into his pockets as he did so. you heaved a sigh, “i’ll go with him. i think it’s me he’s upset with anyway.”

“just be safe, we can’t afford to lose anyone,” gyuvin’s voice was quiet, but you still gave him an appreciative smile before following taerae out the door.

you broke into a jog to catch up with his long stride, finally managing to walk beside him. you grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. searching his eyes, you asked, “what’s wrong? did i do something?”

a look of annoyance adorned his face as he shook your hand away, “when i said i was going on a walk, i meant /without you/.” he started walking again, this time his pace much quicker than before in an attempt to get you to go back to the house. however, you were just as stubborn as he was. you stood your ground and continued following him.

“i don’t think it’s very fair for you to be in a pissy mood with everyone and not give a reason as to why,” you snapped, now gaining his full attention as he whipped around to face you, anger evident in his eyes.

“you’re joking, right? /i’m/ the one being unfair?” he scoffed, “that’s rich coming from you, y/n.”

you gave him a dry laugh, rolling your eyes in the process, “i don’t even know what i did.”

“go ask your new boyfriend, i’m sure he could know.”

“so that’s what you’re upset about? we literally just shared a bed,” your futile attempt to reason with him went in one ear and out the other as he turned his back to you again and trudged onto a path in the woods, his fists balled up beside him.

he suddenly stopped in a clearing, his shoulders tensing and his head bowed as if he were contemplating something. he sucked in a breath, though you didn’t expect him to raise his voice at you, “i don’t think you’re capable of understanding signs that are put directly in front of you and it’s so fucking frustrating!”

“i genuinely don't know what you're talking about taerae, please just tell me so we can fix it,” you shouted back, “it's not okay to just yell at me and not give a reason why.”

taerae closed his eyes and took a deep breath, almost as if to calm himself down, and in a completely different tone he said, “i just feel like you and hanbin are excluding me. it's obvious you two like each other and i just feel like an outcast now.”

“first of all, i doubt hanbin likes me back,” you started, holding your hand up to hush him when he tried to interrupt you, “and second, i’m sorry if we have made you feel that way. i never want you to feel sad because of something i have done, so i will do better and fix it.”

taerae nodded, “i’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“it's okay, if you have any other issues just come to me like this instead of getting mad and storming out,” you playfully scolded, beginning to walk back toward the house. hanbin was stood in the doorway watching the two of you, a fond smile on his face.

taerae leaned over, whispering in your ear, “he's crazy about you, trust me.”

you blushed a deep red, smacking him on the arm, “stop it!”

“just speaking the truth,” he shrugged matter-of-factly, unable to suppress the grin on his face as he bounded up the stairs and greeted hanbin, returning to the dining table to finish up his breakfast.

you stopped outside, locking your gaze with hanbin's, trying like crazy not to blush or make it obvious that you were flustered. he was quick to ask, “is everything okay now?”

“yeah, he just needed calmed down,” you told him, laughing as you said, “i’m shocked we didn't get attacked by infected with how loud he was yelling.”

“maybe he scared them away,” hanbin mused.

hanbin allowed you to enter the house first, muttering something about how you should have grabbed a jacket because it's freezing out, and you playfully bantered as you sat at the table with the rest of the group. you were across from taerae, who gave you a knowing look, and you had to look away from him.

it was comical to watch him try not to yell because you kicked him under the table.

your group had made the decision to stay at the farmhouse until you ran out of resources. its owners never returned, never fended you away from their property or supplies, and you sure as hell didn't want anyone else to take it from you. besides, if you could be stable there for a bit, it would give ample time to rest and complete your journey to seattle when it was warmer outside.

spring came quicker than you'd hoped, but while the weather was still unpredictable, you didn't plan on going anywhere. instead, you build a functioning garden to at least try and sustain yourselves as much as possible, opting to grow some vegetables. you mainly took care of them, which is where you were currently, your hands deep in the potting soil in an attempt to move a few of your crops around to some bigger pots you'd found in the shed a couple days ago.

your heart jolted in your chest when a figure crouched down next to you, but soon relaxed upon seeing it was hanbin, offering you a helping hand, “i always feel bad you're out here doing this on your own most days.”

“i don't mind it, really,” you shrugged, scooping up some dirt in your hand and patting it around the plant to stabilize it in its new home, “it brings a little bit of comfort, reminds me of the days before the outbreak.”

he nodded in understanding, helping you finish up what you were doing before he quietly asked, “wanna go for a walk?”

you weren't sure why he was suddenly asking this, but you could use a break to stretch out your legs. you you wiped your hands off on your jeans to shake the excess dirt off, and then ran them under the water spigot to clean them as much as you could. hanbin opened up the gate after you signaled you were ready, allowing you to go first and step down onto the path you used to walk down to the creek in the woods.

a comfortable silence fell between the two of you, the quiet chirps of the birds filling your ears and the cool breeze ruffling through your hair. it was peaceful, and you had to admit, it was bringing you a sense of happiness you hadn't felt in such a long time.

hanbin stopped once he got to a clearing, settling down on a patch of grass by the water and patting the spot next to him for you. plopping down almost instantly, you quirked an eyebrow up at him, questioning, “is there any particular reason we’re here?”

while you expected him to say he just wanted to make sure you were giving yourself a break, he surprised you by answering, “yeah, actually, there is.”

you cocked your head to the side, silently urging him to go on. he nervously swallowed, finally turning to face you, a sudden confidence dancing in his dark irises, “you know that conversation we were having a couple weeks ago before taerae threw his tantrum?”

“yes?” you answered hesitantly, not entirely sure where he was wanting to go with this. you felt the butterflies in your belly begin to dance when you took note of the way his eyes briefly flickered down to your lips, but it was over as soon as it happened.

“well, um, i just wanted to finish that conversation, because it's been bothering me for a while and i just need to get this out.”

his burning gaze met yours, a fond smile curling up the corners of his mouth. you could feel your heart begin to beat in your chest, praying to god he couldn't tell how visibly flustered you were. he reached his hand up to brush a strand of your hair out of your face, parting his lips to speak, “i have a crush on you, y/n, i have for a while.”

while it was a simple confession, it was something you would treasure for the rest of your life. it was a breath of fresh air amidst chaos and fear, something that made you feel like you were floating for the first time since the outbreak. you felt stupid smiling so big, but to mask your hint of embarrassment, you told him, “i have a crush on you too, bin. i feel like it's been obvious.”

“not really,” he said, “i could kind of pick up little hints, but it was nothing too major. you honestly held it in well, i was worried you wouldn't return the feelings.”

“well, i promise i do.”

hanbin took your relaxed stance as a sign cup your cheek with his hand, inching closer and closer, finally muttering, “can i?”

you timidly smiled, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks, “of course.”

without any hesitation, he closed the distance between the two of you, melding your lips together perfectly. you weren't sure if it was because he was hanbin, and he was perfect already, or if it was because this moment had been anticipated for so long by the both of you, but it was everything you could have ever asked for. he filled you with warmth and made you melt into his touch. your eyes fluttered shut, relishing in the moment before he broke away, his forehead pressed against yours, “i can't wait to do that more often.”

“me either,” you smiled, leaning forward again to steal another kiss from him, “i think i could get used to it.”

the two of you decided to scrounge around and look for any useful supplies before you went back to the farmhouse. you found a canteen and a gas lantern by the water, assuming someone had left it there - whether it was on purpose or not, you'll never know - and attempted to find anything else before you began your trek back up the trail to the farmhouse.

you began laughing the moment you caught sight of taerae on the front porch a “thank fucking god” erupting from

his lips the moment he saw your fingers intertwined with one another. he said something along the lines of it being painful to watch the mutual pining and no one making a move. you nudged him playfully, admitting to him that he was right.

your group would be leaving out within the next few weeks, and you anticipated everything seattle had to offer you, and you could only hope it would be as good as this.

it was close.

xi.

saying goodbye to the farmhouse was a lot harder than you hoped it would be. while you knew it was for the best, it killed you to leave running water, a thriving garden, and cozy bed to sleep in every single night. you knew you would have those things in seattle, but the remainder of the traveling there was going to be difficult, mainly because you'd all gotten spoiled on the luxury of not worrying about where you'll be staying.

you set out on the rest of your journey early that morning, backpacks filled to the brim with supplies and plenty of food and water to get you through what you hoped would only be a week. you didn't run into many issues along the way, and had made an agreement to meet on the outskirts of the city if everything went wrong; and you hoped it wouldn't.

the air was thick with humidity, and the feeling of grime caked on your skin wasn't something you missed by any means. you were filled with hope upon seeing a metal sign on the side of the road, and while it was rusting and filled with holes, you saw the words outlines clearly in white, highly contrasting with the green background.

seattle, 1 mile.

you gave hanbin’s hand a firm squeeze, peering up at him

through your lashes, and feeling tears sting at your eyes. you were finally almost to the place you would call home, where you could get as normal of a life as possible, and you'd be able to do it with your friends and boyfriend. maybe, just maybe, it was finally your time to have something really good happen for you.

“what kind of food do you think they make there?” gyuvin asked, earning laughs from most of the group, and you all began to make small talk of what was to come, unknowingly picking up your pace.

the sun was beginning to set, casting a beautiful glow across the horizon, and illuminating the sight in front of you. it was breathtaking, and making you all the more excited to finally get inside the safety of the gates that lie ahead.

but the harsh reality was, in this lifetime, nothing good lasted forever.

something felt off as you approached the edge of the city. there were no signs of life to be found; you were greeted with empty streets and eerie silence. taerae stopped in his tracks, eyes frantically searching the map, a mantra of “no, no, no” falling from his lips at a million miles a minute.

“what's wrong?” gyuvin inquired, peeking over taerae's shoulder to see if he could figure it out himself, but to no avail. taerae folded up the map in frustration, shoving it in his back locked, and turning to the group to say, “there is no settlement.”

gunwook’s voice held a hint of worry, “why do you say that?”

taerae chuckled frustratedly, spinning around with his arms wide open, motioning to the deserted, crumbling city around you, “we went exactly to the place you said those people told you to, and here we are, with no other person in sight,” he quickly met gazes with you and hanbin, “we're completely doomed.”

“maybe we can try going back to the farmhouse, we were doing so well there,” hanbin suggested, attempting to bring some sort of level headedness to your current situation, but taerae was far from receptive to it.

he began walking around, his behavior growing a little more irrational. he turned around, pointing at gyuvin and gunwook, who both adorned bewildered looks, and stated through gritted teeth, “this is all your fault, i knew we shouldn't have listened to you.”

“kim taerae!” you intervened, catching the attention of the dark haired boy, a glint of anger evident in his expression, “you are being a little ridiculous, we can figure something out.”

“no, we can't,” he scoffed, “we traveled miles and miles and miles to be greeted with nothing, i feel like my frustration is completely justified,” taerae allowed a yell to rip through his lungs, the sole of his boot loudly stomping on a bent “welcome to seattle” sign that had made its home on the crumbling concrete beneath you.

before anyone could hush him, or ask if he was stupid, the resonating sound of infected filled your ears, but it was unlike anything you'd ever heard before. it sent panic shooting straight to the pit of your stomach, and it wasn't long before the filled your line of vision completely.

hundreds of them.

the five of you began to run, desperately trying to stick together, but it was proving to be a lot more difficult than you thought. you heard hanbin holler a “split up” before you headed off into different directions, gyuvin and gunwook together one way, and your original trio the other. you clung to hanbin's hand for dear life, keeping careful watch of taerae to make sure he was keeping up.

you were all too soon met with a fork in your path, and hanbin was quick to think on his feet, letting go of your hand and pushing you toward taerae with an apologetic smile, quickly telling him, “make sure to keep them safe.”

you let out a cry, “hanbin, no!” but it was too late, because he was taking a pipe and banging it on a dumpster nearby, gaining the attention of the infected that had been hot on your trail, and pushing his legs to move him faster down the alley and out of your line of vision.

you attempted to run after him, but taerae grabbed your arm and pulled you back. you shook yourself from his grasp, screaming through your tears, “we can't leave him, taerae,” a sob raking over your body, “please!”

“hanbin will be fine, y/n, he always is,” taerae reasoned with you, “he'll make it back to us and you know it.”

before you could argue with him anymore, taerae was grabbing your arm again and dragging you along with him, attempting to find the edge of the city again. your legs were burning with each push you made to keep running, and by time you finally made it to a clearing, your lungs felt like they could collapse at any given moment.

you desperately looked around, trying to find hanbin, or gyuvin and gunwook, and your eyes finally settled on the trembling figures of the two brothers on the ground up ahead, panting hard and trembling from the realization of the events that just occurred.

you caught up to them, but before you could say anything, you turned around to face taerae, finally allowing the rage you'd managed to keep at bay during that mess to unleash itself on him, “i cannot believe you would put our whole group on jeopardy like that,” you stepped toward him, palms of your hands meeting his chest and shoving him backwards, “you made hanbin feel like he had no choice but to sacrifice himself so we could live, you know that right?”

taerae’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, not knowing what at all to say to you. scoffing, you said, “you are so fuckinh selfish.”

with that, you stormed off, ignore everyone’s futile attempts of getting you to calm down. the three ended up following behind you, making sure to keep your remaining group together as night approached, and you eventually stopped and set up camp for the night, but refused to utter a single word to taerae.

you could only hope hanbin would survive the night.

— — —

you and the other three waited on the outskirts of the city like you planned, anxiously awaiting hanbin’s arrival to your small camp, if it ever came. it had been hours now, and you were still not speaking to taerae, now having graduated to refusing to look at him. his attempts at apologizing to you were futile, because he knew sorry would never be enough to heal the ache in your heart and the constant worrying on your mind.

as the morning sun broke through the sky, you sat in front of the smoldering fire, knees drawn up to your chest and eyes stinging with fresh tears. gyuvin was sat down next to you, his hand rubbing your back in a comforting way, his presence greatly appreciated, but you had a hard time croaking anything out.

a flash of brilliant red came into your vision, causing you to finally tear your gaze away from the ashes before you, seeing a rain of fiery glitter shimmering down from the sky in waves. you blinked a few times, wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you, but gyuvin had stopped rubbing your back in return for staring at the sight before you, mouth agape.

it had to be hanbin.

you began silently packing your things into your backpack, gyuvin closely following suit, but you were interrupted by taerae’s voice piercing the silence, “what are you doing?”

“what's it matter to you?” you snapped, managing to look at him, nostrils flaring in annoyance. he held his hands up in defense. muttering, “i’m just trying to watch out for you, y/n.”

you stepped toward him, teeth gritted and your patience with him wearing dangerously thin. you pointed to the color illuminating the sky, your words assertive, “that could be hanbin, and i’ll be damned if you stop me from going to look when you're the reason this happened in the first place. whether you come or not isn't my problem, but if you want to prove you're worthy of forgiveness, you’ll come with.”

you turned on your heels, back now facing him, and met the determined gazes of gyuvin and gunwook, who signaled they were ready to follow you back into the heart of the city.

you trudged onward, careful not to let the thudding of your boots draw attention to you, and glanced behind your back, taking note of taerae following suit. good.

it wasn't long before you made it through the entrance to the forgotten city, and you slunk against walls to keep a low profile in case a hoard of infected were still nearby. you felt your heart beating in your throat, a layer of sweat now coating your forehead in anticipation for what was to come.

another flare was lit, this time much closer to where you previously were. you dashed across the street from one alley to the next, taking note of the same dumpster that hanbin had hit before he ran on his own path. you figured following it wouldn'td hurt, and led your group onward through the maze of rubble, the stench of the flare smoke now filling your nostrils.

before you could take another step forward, gunwook grabbed your hand and pulled you back down into a crouch, his finger pressed over his lips before he pointed ahead, a bus in the distance, but a crowd of about 15 infected surrounding it. they seemed desperate to get something, and as your eyes trailed up, you realized it was someone.

hanbin.

he looked up, a wave of relief washing over his face upon seeing the four of you few yards away from him, and you fought back your tears as you made a cutthroat motion to the other theee, quietly creeping along the edge of the road, planning to sneak attack the infected.

taerae was the first to leap forward, twisting an infected’s neck with a sickening crack. its body crumpled to the ground, falling entirely lifeless within an instant, and it didn't take long for the rest of you to follow in his footsteps. you swung forward, your motions eerily similar to when you killed ricky months back, blood sputtering out from the infected and soaking through your clothes.

but this time, you didn't care. you continued your actions, the putrid smell of iron and rotting flesh violating your nose, but within a few minutes the crowd was gone, and you were surrounded by bodies on the road. you quickly entered the inside of the bus, noticing there was only a few seats left inside, and a previously made shelter from someone else having been made in the back.

taerae pulled the doors shut to prevent any other infected getting inside, visibly relaxing once he realized your group was safe for now. hanbin slipped down from the top of the bus, his hair disheveled, and exhaustion evident in his expression and body language. you moved forward to give him a hug, but he stepped back, shaking his head at you.

you felt your stomach twist in a knot, “hanbin?”

his next words were ones that would have made you fall to your knees if he wasn't standing directly in front of you, “i got bit.”

it felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the small space, the entire group falling into a dreadful silence.

you blinked back tears for millionth time in the last few hours, swallowing harshly as you met your eyes with his, desperately trying to see if he was pulling some cruel joke. you laughed, “no, no that's not possible! you're fine hanbin, you don't have to pull my leg like that.”

his frown only deepened, and he took a step forward, pulling the sleeve of his jacket up to reveal a gnarly wound on the inside of his forearm, the resemblance of teeth marks deeply penetrating his skin. blood oozed from the gashes, and the flesh surrounding it appeared as though had already begun to rot away.

“what are we going to to do?” taerae asked, and you almost turned around to slap him, but somehow managed to contain yourself.

hanbin’s expression said everything you needed to know. his next sentence was quiet, and had the nobody there been completely still, you wouldn't have been able to hear it, “i’m going to have to take care of it myself, i won’t let the virus take over. i don't want to be one of them.”

“hanbin, no,” taerae said, “we can't just let you kill yourself, there has to be another way.”

“but there's not, taerae,” hanbin’s tone was gentle but firm, “there's no cure, and i won't be able to handle being one of those disgusting creatures,” a tear raced down his cheek, “i have no other choice, unless one of you do it for me, and i would never ask that of you.”

you didn't feel like yourself as the gears turned in your head, before you finally asked, “can we at least say goodbye?”

his eyes softened, and he nodded in return. you let the others go before you, gunwook and gyuvin going first, thanking him for allowing them to tag along, and always making sacrifices to make sure everyone else was taken care of.

you didn't miss the sobs shaking taerae’s body when he went, their hug the tightest one you had ever seen. “i’m so sorry” moving past his lips repeatedly, and hanbin kept reassuring him quietly. the two had a quiet conversation, hanbin’s gaze intensely staring into taerae in what you assumed was advice on how to move forward.

and then it was your turn.

your legs felt like jelly as you collapsed into his embrace, his arms sturdy and the scent of his cologne having barely lingered on his clothes as you burning your face into his chest. you could feel him breaking down, and the two of you cried more than you ever have before. he pulled back a little bit, pressing a deep, loving kiss onto your lips, and you could taste the salt of your tears mixing in between.

he looked at you, adoration in his eyes, as he whispered, “i love you, y/n.”

your bottom lip quivered, and you were barely able to get out an “i love you” in return, relishing in your final moment with him. you shifted a bit, slipping your dagger out from the inside of your sleeve. you pushed it between his ribs, hearing him softly grunt in pain, and a quiet “thank you” coming from him.

he grew weaker by the minute, and you helped him lower to the ground. laying him down on his back and settling down next to him, your hand coated with the warm bloom spilling from his body. your free hand reached up and pushed his hair out of his eyes. thumb moving down to collect his tears as his eyes fluttered shut and the breath left his body.

your pained weeping echoed throughout the barren wasteland around you, and you wanted so badly to turn back time, to do something differently, because if you did, he would still be alive. you'd still be searching for seattle.

but seattle wasn't real, and the boy you loved was taken from you by the very thing you hated the most.

327 notes · View notes

yun9i · 7 months ago

Text

painkiller — xiao.

— xiao (genshin impact) x gn!reader synopsis: when he was at his worst, only you treated it best. cw: major character death, friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, settles during around archon war, a terribly written fic from years ago that i reposted so this is not proofread | wc: 2.8k notes: a sad attempt at me trying to write pre-archon war, spare me! reuploading this from ao3 btw...

the birds started chirping in the air as you walked out of your humble home. clutching your bag to your chest, you kept your belongings safe. being an instrumentalist was a talent of yours growing up, and now here you are, one of liyue's few musicians. you walked to the transport and sat in with a fruit vendor who smiled at you.

walking to the mt. aocang with gifts in hand to give to morax, guizhong, and the cloud retainer, you hummed to the silence of the area. suddenly, a dash of wind brushed through your hair. you chuckled, knowing exactly who it was from.

"hey, xiao," xiao walked by your side and walked with you. "hey, (y/n)," you smiled at his presence. "are you invited as well?" you asked, grinning at xiao. "correct, in fact, they told me to come fetch you," xiao explained, looking up at the mountain. "so hold on tight," xiao abruptly said, holding your body and the bag you carried. "what—" you got cut off by the coldness of the wind. shutting your eyes closed, you gasped for air.

"(y/n)! xiao! you've arrived!" guizhong cheered, helping xiao with holding the food you brought for the adepti. "xiao, you can put them down now," morax reminded, looking over at the both of you. "right, my apologies," xiao let you sit on a chair nearby.

"it appears that they're frightened, did anything happen on the way here?" the cloud retainer asked, looking over at you. "i think it was the teleporting," morax suggested, earning a nod from xiao who rested on the tree above them.

"come on, dear. eat this," guizhong offered you a bite of mora meat. you happily ate a bite and smiled at the goddess. "thank you, lady guizhong." she smiled back at you. "can you at least warn them next time?" guizhong playfully scolded xiao, making everyone laugh. "of course, lady guizhong."

"thanks for walking me back, xiao," he hummed, acknowledging your thankfulness. "it's only natural for me to do, (y/n)," he responded, earning a light chuckle from you. he unknowingly smiled at you, enjoying your happiness. "well, thank you for the kind act, alatus," you smiled, waving him goodbye as you returned home.

as you walked away, xiao felt blood rush to his cheeks. he knew he wasn't new to the feeling. it happens a lot when you're around. clearing his throat, he walked back to guili plains. "it'd be impossible, stop thinking about it." xiao reminded himself, as he always did.

since mortals and immortals aren't supposed to fall in love.

"thank you for walking them back, xiao," guizhong smiled, finding him walking back to the area. "it's my duty to help," xiao stated, catching up to guizhong. "you know, i find it nice that you two go well with each other," xiao choked. "remember when you suddenly appeared when they were playing music?" xiao covered his face from embarrassment. "they screamed twice! they fell and thought you'd kill them," guizhong laughed.

"their life has gone haywire since they got involved with the adepti," xiao stated, guizhong agreeing. "but we're here to keep them safe, so we should be fine, right?" xiao hesitated before nodding. "and they're in good hands, too." guizhong smiled at xiao, seeing his cheeks glow a slight pink.

"no, stop. this isn't allowed," xiao cut himself off and shook his head. a mortal? with an adeptus? impossible. lives so far apart, dreams so different from each other. but then, only you give him the butterflies.

and only you do it best.

it was a busy morning a few days later. multiple people came around and prepared for a small event that guizhong initiated. many people walked around with smiles on their faces from excitement. however, you were pacing back and forth, nervous. it was a small event, but your thoughts got to the best of you.

"what if i fail? what if i make a mistake? what if i become a laughing stock? what if everyone brings up the fact that i failed today? what—" you shook your head before starting to nibble on your fingernails. you halted and stood in silence at one major thought. "what if xiao sees?!" you started pacing in a faster speed.

"you'll be fine, (y/n)," xiao interrupted, standing by the door. "oh my god, warning please! don't scare me like that," you yelped from shock. "oh, my apologies," xiao trailed off. "i'm pretty sure it was you who called, though…" xiao muttered under his breath.

"i'm so nervous i can't even focus anymore, i'm so scared something will go wrong and it'd be my fault, i—" you were interrupted by a warm embrace. "you'll do fine, trust me. i believe in you." you swore there was a certain warmth in his gaze where it usually was cold. you swore his voice sounded like honey when it was usually ice. you swore his smile shined where there was usually none. you were calm. you're okay.

because he's here.

"a-alright, i'll calm down. but can you practice with me for a bit? i wanna go over the song a few more times," xiao chuckled, nodding. he grabbed the messy notes sheet before listening to you play. god, how stunning you were.

you blinked a few times before hearing xiao's voice. "great job, you did well." you could jump to the moon from how ecstatic you felt. you smiled brighter than the sun that day. xiao widened his eyes as he fell into the sweetness of your laugh. he cleared his throat as he heard your partner come in signaling you to come out to perform.

"thanks, xiao. i'll be going now!" xiao chuckled before nodding, vanishing into thin air. you walked outside to see a crowd turning to your arrival. you chuckled, sitting on a chair as you prepared to start the song.

xiao sat on a tree close to the stage and watched you play perfectly. he hummed and sang along, having memorized the song from a while ago. and he wouldn't want to admit, but he memorized this song from hearing you singing it every once in a while.

play a song that you'd like, and he'll know every line.

sunset came, and the guili plains were still as lively as ever. you were happy with everyone around. the livelihood of the area was energizing. the people, the songs, the crowd, the lights. even xiao enjoyed it.

but maybe because it was you.

"xiao?" his thoughts got cut off as you approached him with almond tofu in hand. xiao accepted it with a nod and thanked you silently. both of you sat in a secluded area, sitting on a tree where it was a bit chilly. there was a cold wind that passed by, making you shiver and envelope your body in your arms. xiao noticed and handed you his plate.

"xiao?" xiao briefly smiled and vanished into thin air, leaving you confused. a few seconds later, xiao came back with a coat and a blanket in hand. "here," he said as he passed them to you. "thank you, xiao." you smiled as he helped you put on the coat. "the sun is setting," xiao pointed out, looking at the sun that faded under the tall mountains. "and yet the place is as lively as ever." you laughed, agreeing.

"i'll miss moments like these. the livelihood, the happiness, the scenery, everything," you said with a smile growing. xiao chuckled. "yeah, i agree, the scenery is great, i could stare at it for days," xiao said, looking at you. you chuckled, oblivious to his loving stare. "moments like these i wish i could stop time," you giggled, continuing your meal.

moments like these you cherish, you wish you could keep. xiao would definitely fulfill your wishes and he will at a snap of a finger.

too bad he couldn't.

the archon war began. seeing deities take each other down for the sake of divinity was not something you would see daily. it was frightening. but you knew you'd be safe, of course you would be.

you just didn't expect everyone else not to.

havria's surge of power almost salinified everyone who remained. you ran as fast as you could, away from there. sal terrae was the last thing havria had for her people, and now here she was, slain by the first and last king of her people. "xiao, xiao, xiao, xiao," you called for xiao multiple times, sobs and ragged breaths in between. the fear of death grew bigger as you ran with the last few people who survived and ran with you.

after a few seconds, xiao appeared and helped everyone out of the area. xiao carried you out of the area while you cried in his warm embrace. "it's okay, (y/n). you're safe now," xiao reassured you, stroking your head with his warm hands. from orders of guizhong and morax, he guided everyone left to guili plains to stay safe. once you arrived at guili plains, you were the one who enlightened the two gods of the death of their fellow god.

"well that's…saddening…" morax responded, looking down in defeat. everyone stood in silence to honor havria's legacy until you heard screams outside. "damnit," morax cursed, running outside to protect the city. "everyone, take cover!" guizhong shouted, pulling you over to protect you. "lady guizhong, let me fight," you pleaded, pulling out the spear from thin air. "but (y/n)—" you cut her off and ran outside.

you took a deep breath before entering the battle. having learned a thing or two from xiao, you tried to help and defend yourself from enemies nearby. there was bloodshed everywhere. you let go of the fear and hoped for the best.

despite how strong everyone was, it wasn't enough to save everyone. the city that once stood tall under morax and guizhong's supervision crumbled to the ground. the entire war within the area eventually killed and/or harmed other people.

including you.

you coughed out blood as you felt a pole pierce through your abdomen. you turned to see someone grinning in victory. you yelped as you weakly raised your spear and pierced it through his body. "(y-y/n)!" you heard from the side, your vision getting hazy. "xiao…" you muttered as you slowly walked to the yaksha with most of your already fleeing strength.

the fear xiao had in his eyes when he saw you dying in his warm arms, from a random pole from a random stranger. it hurt.

morax turned to xiao and found him running to your dying body. he saw the random man laughing in victory and felt anger boil inside of him. he smashed his body with a gigantic meteor. he felt anger due to the fact that this moron destroyed the life of a human he thought was family to him because of how different you treated him.

"wishing you all the best, (y/n)." morax muttered, attending to the other enemies. xiao turned to morax and cried. "morax—" xiao started, only to be disrupted. "get everyone to safety!" he only shouted, pushing xiao away. xiao nodded, carrying you and gathering everyone and fleeing to mt. tianheng with the other people to keep them safe from further danger.

"…x-xiao—" you were interrupted by a cough accompanied by blood. xiao started worrying and a few tears escaped his eyes. "(y/n), no. not now, we're almost there, i swear." you laughed, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "why are you laughing? you're literally dying," xiao sobbed, still upset at how lightly you were treating this situation.

"come on, xiao. lighten up a bit, it's not like i'm disappearing forever," you chuckled. "you're not immortal like i am, (y/n). please, let's just go—". "xiao, please…" you begged, slightly crying. "you're hurt, we need to go—". "xiao…" you called out.

"(y/n), please! you're dying! why do you think i am doing this? we need to get you healed!" xiao cried, giving in to his heart. breathing in a lot deeper than most breaths you've taken, you smiled. "xiao, you kill the pain. better than anyone or anything else in the world"

"you're my painkiller," you touch his cheek with your almost cold hands. "so it doesn't hurt." xiao started crying, sobbing as some people stopped by. "(y/n), please i'm begging you—". "xiao, please. go on, bringing me will only risk the others' lives" you responded. "but—"

"xiao." you called, stopping him. he cried for a few minutes.

"i hate you, i hate you, i hate you, i hate you—" xiao kept chanting as he carried your body and ran for his life, everyone doing the same. "xiao, i swear to the archons—" you were cut off by xiao. "just shut up and stay awake." xiao shouted, running faster than light. "wow, rude." you joked. "this is not the time to be joking, (y/n). you're literally dying." xiao responded, angered. "so?" you retorted. xiao halted, slowing down for a bit.

"…i love you." he muttered, weak in volume, but loud in your heart. "if there were a word better than love, i'd use it. i just realized how special you are to me. you make me feel things that i don't with others. you give me emotions to feel. you give me motivation to do things. you give me what i need when i need it. you make the pain disappear."

with your mouth left open from shock, you ignored the pain and the blood seeping out of your clothing. "you're my painkiller," he muttered. "and only you kill it the best." you smiled, your heart fluttering. silence grew in between the both of you until you spoke.

"hey xiao, can we walk like we usually do? pretend that i'm not dying." you muttered, gripping onto his clothing. xiao let out a sigh, nodding as he slowed down on the path to the area they evacuated to. xiao walked, step by step, listening to you ramble about random things. he suddenly started sobbing in silence.

"xiao, you know i love you, right?" xiao nodded, hearing the silence in your voice. "well, i love you," he chuckled. "thank you for everything," tears started running down his face. "thanks for killing the pain," he smiled, for you. "i'll see you soon."

he felt how your arms went limp. he felt how the silence replaced your voice. he felt how cold your skin was.

you were dead.

he cried, for an hour. he came down to where liyue harbor was established. everyone saw how xiao carried your dead body on his back, the same feeling of death reflected on his face. no one could decipher his feelings.

anger that he couldn’t save you? sadness from the fact that he lost you? grief from your death? happiness for your peaceful passing?

morax arrived at the area after a while, carrying guizhong's hair clip. xiao and morax looked at each other and sighed. everyone who died in the battle was buried in a certain area. xiao sighed, standing up. a blank expression adorned his face.

maybe this time, no one can help him.

"why do we always run errands for people?" paimon asked, annoyed. "oh come on, it's zhongli. i'm sure this isn't anything that big of a deal." lumine replied, laughing. lumine, while travelling with paimon, came to give xiao a box delivered from zhongli. none of the two knew what was in the box.

"xiao~" paimon called, looking for him where zhongli told them to go. "paimon? traveler? what are you both doing here?" xiao questioned, standing up from the rock. "zhongli told us to give you these," lumine offered a box that zhongli had prepared. xiao opened the box to qingxin painkillers and violetgrass on a hair clip. he smiled, thinking of you.

"woah, seeing xiao smile is so rare!" paimon said, peeking at the box. lumine and paimon didn't really question the hairclip, despite it being unnatural for xiao. "painkillers? are you sick?" lumine asked, concerned. xiao shook his head. "it's nothing of your concern," xiao answered, holding the box close to his chest. "let us walk you to the inn! we have to talk to verr about a commission anyways!" paimon suggested.

"so, xiao," paimon started, dragging out the syllables in calling his name. xiao hummed in response. "what's that hairpin for?" paimon asked. xiao smiled, looking at the pink skies. "someone special," he responded, looking back at the two with a small smile.

"woah, they must be that special if you're smiling, huh?" paimon blabbered. xiao chuckled, nodding. "they're an old friend who i cherished a lot," xiao stated. "ooh, who are they?" lumine chirped in, asking.

"they're my painkiller."

#﹫ yun9i #﹫ yun9i writes!#genshin imagines #genshin angst #genshin fic #genshin impact angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin xiao #xiao angst #xiao x reader #genshin #genshin impact

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koostattoos · 1 year ago

Text

➳ There’s Only Me When There’s You || j.jk

~ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

~ Genre: slight enemies to lovers, high school au, fluff, MAJOR angst, first love, young love (Inspired by 2000's film A Walk to Remember by Nicholas Sparks)

~ Summary: Being new was tough. Starting out in a new school and new town without any idea where to go or any friends was tougher. When coming across Jungkook and his friends, school hadn't got any easier. When you get paired with Jungkook for a project your life becomes hell, or was it heaven?

~ Warnings: MAJOR character death, a fight happens, mentions of a hospital, mentions of blood, fluff, fluff, fluff! 190811!jungkook (iykyk), they’re so incredibly adorable i’m crying, use of petnames (mostly baby)

~ teaser word count: 684

full fic here!

This past summer your family moved to a new city. Yongsan was small, that’s what you liked about it. But your family wanted to get away from the big bustling city of Seoul. They thought it’d be better for you. Moving was exciting to you. Being in a new place and all. The house they had bought was small, it had two bedrooms, with a bathroom, and a big enough living space for the three of you.

The people in the neighborhood were nice. They welcomed you with fresh food and some plants to plant in the mini greenhouse next to the yard. It was very thoughtful of them. Tomorrow is your first day at your new school. You were going into your senior year. They say it’s supposed to be one of the most exciting times in high school.

After you finish unpacking your things you walk into the living room where your dad was sitting. He was on the phone talking with the moving people to figure out where the rest of your stuff was. And your mom was in the kitchen preparing dinner. You decide to take yourself out of the house and explore the small town you now call home.

Making sure your parents knew where you were, you turn your head around the corner of the kitchen and call for your mom.

“I’m gonna go out and look around town, is that okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Just be careful. Don’t go too far and be back before the sun goes down.” she tells you

Nodding your head, you turn to put your shoes on and make sure you have your phone with you. The air outside was nice. It was still mid-summer but the weather around this time seemed to cool down.

When you walk into the village you meet a lot of nice people. Mrs. Kim was the first person you met. “Hi honey. Are you new around here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen your face around here”. She ran one of the local restaurants.

“No, I’ve actually moved here a few days ago. My family and I live nearby. I just wanted to come in and see what was around here. So, I know somewhat my way around.” you explain to her. She nods her head and gasps as an idea pops up into her head.

“Well, if you ever need anything, please stop by. I’ll be glad to help” she says to you with a sweet smile.

“Thank you, Mrs. Kim. I’ll keep that in mind. Have a good night” you smile at her and walk away to explore more of the village. There wasn’t much to do. There were a few bookstores you had walked past and a few other markets. Deciding to head back home you text your mom that you were on your way. Without looking at where you were going you bumped into a firm chest. When you look up, you’re met with a teenage boy. His hair was a bit of a mess but still maintained. He was actually rather cute.

Before you could say anything, he says, “Are you okay?” you pause for a minute trying to collect your thoughts. He looks blankly at you waiting for you to respond. Finally, after staring at him for what felt like an eternity, you answer him. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sorry for bumping into you” you bow your head slightly to him as you apologize.

“It’s alright. Are you new around here? I don’t think I’ve seen you before” you respond the same way you answered to Mrs. Kim. You tell him that you had just moved here a few days ago with your family. He nods his head and excuses himself. But not before he introduces himself.

“I’m Jungkook by the way.” He has a faint smile on his lips. You tell him your name. “It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook” he nodded and slowly started to walk away. “It was nice to meet you too” Finally, you both bid goodbye to each other and you make your way back home.

#jungkook #bts jungkook #bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook oneshot

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rotthepoet · 4 months ago

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hiii,

as someone who only recently started poking their nose into this, help i am so confused T-T do you have like a slythering boys 101 or something i am so lost on them and their personalities q-q

- 🦆 anon (it/its) (<- if that‘s still free)

O H M Y G O D S

I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ME FOR A FULL RUN DOWN EHEHEHEHHWHEHE THANK YOU

okay so essentially the Slytherin boys consist of about 5-7 boys. Draco Malfoy(canon), Blaise Zabini(Canon), Theodore Nott(canon character, will explain), Mattheo Riddle(Fanmade), Lorenzo Berkshire(Fanmade), Tom Riddle(the third. Fanmade, not the dead one), and Regulus Black(Fanmade, again not the dead one)

You’ll typically see Draco, Blaise, Mattheo, Lorenzo, and Theodore being written about, but its not hard to find Tom Riddle and Regulus Black content either.

So like? Who are these people?? How did they come to be??

We already know Blaise and Draco, they frequent both the books and movies so i’m not going to spend a lot time talking about them.

Draco is just about canon Draco. I can’t think of anything that really changes about him in the fandom.

Blaise has a lot less book/screen time than Draco so a lot of people have taken it upon themselves to characterize him. I see him as a very posh, haughty, quiet person. I think he’s at least half Italian even if he doesnt speak the language, but that differs person to person.

Okay here’s where it gets a bit complicated so stay with me(if you need clarification on anything PLEASE feel free to dm me or send in another ask <3)

Theodore Nott

Mentioned in the books maybe twice, all we know is he’s a slytherin pureblood with some h e a v y ties to Voldemort. Because we have so little information on Theodore, all of it’s basically made up.

Basic information:

He’s fancasted as Lorenzo Zurzolo, and Theodore himself is Italian and completely fluent in the language. You’ll mostly see clips of him from the show Baby(netflix)

Most people agree that his mom is dead, but i’ve seen some fics where shes alive and just ill, and i’ve seen fics where shes alive and just absent. I characterize Theo as a total mamas boy, but again its up to the author.

His dad seems to be abusive or neglectful. Again, death eater dad who is pretty much besties with Voldemort. Daddy issues

I characterize him as best friends with Mattheo Riddle(explain later) because of their family ties, but they truly get along.

He’s an avid smoker with a pension for ciggies, but i’ve also seem him characterized a few times as the Hogwarts plug which i think is SO fun.

He’s this really quiet, observant, yet flirtatious character. He’s a ladies man but still a heart breaker. Everyone wants to sleep with Nott, and thats okay.

Mattheo Ridde

Mattheo comes from a draco x reader fanfic called Possesive by yasmineamaro. I think you can still find it on Wattpad. He’s completely fanmade.

Basic Information:

He’s fancasted by Benjamin Wadsworth, and you’ll mostly see clips of him from the show Deadly Class

He’s the son of Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange, and depending on if the author believes in Tom Riddle the Third, Mattheo is the second child.

Again, Avid smoker, also I see him as a heavy drinker. Type of guy to come into class reeking of pot and act like nothing happened.

Fights galore man. Imagine having the dark lord as your dad, no doubt he was fuckin traumatized as a child. Imagine Ominis Gaunt from Hogwarts Legacy, the Guants were FUCKED UP(Gaunts actually became the riddles so this tracks) and often used unforgivables on their own children for discipline. Cant imagine Voldemort wouldnt do the same.

He is angry, he is mean, he is actually really funny and sweet once you talk to him(can we tell i have a favorite?) but getting through that hard outer shell sucks.

Also depicted as a major playboy.

Tom Riddle(the Third)

Oh boy. No idea where he came from, and tbh I see him WAY less often than anyone else. Its really a 50/50 if the author follows him being… real.

Basic information

Okay i don’t really write for Tom so.. bear with me here.

He’s casted as… just Tom Riddle from the Movies. Its just him. I think Tom Riddle second actually got a new fancast but… i dont really care :P

Heir to the Dark Lord, oldest child(again, when he exists, so don’t be surprised to see single child Matty)

Really just copy/paste book tom riddle into a new, young character.

He’s scary asf, academic weapon, also a ladies man but will drop them IMMEDIATELY after he fucks em

Idk what else to say here tbh? Maybe someone else can explain Tom better 😫

Lorenzo Berkshire

No clue how this fucker came to be, I fucking HATE him. Fanmade and BITCHY. JK just got corrected he’s from a draco x oc on wattpad called Filthy by babynaomi

Basic Information:

Fancasted by Louis Partridge, you’ll most likely see clips from Enola Holmes.

Bastard son of Mr. Berkshire and Bellatrix Lestrange which relates him to the Riddles.

I see Lorenzo being this bestie little trio with Theo and Mattheo. But Matt and Theo are way more likely to hang out with eachother than alone with him.

Suppeeeeeeer bitchy. Someone had a DR scenario where he would fuck everygirl he could, write their name down in a little black book, and each girl was worth different points based on blood status.

This guy sucks fr.

Actually some people characterize him as really sweet and fluffy.

I am not one of those people.

Regulus Black

No ideas where this guy came from. He’s literally just dead regulus copy and pasted into an alive, younger regulus. Supposedly the child of Sirius Black and some random woman?

Basic Information

He’s fancasted as Timothee Chalamet, so is dead regulus, its really confusing.

I dont write for him. Really, I dont know what to tell you

I’ve seen him portrayed as an artist?? Erm… again, i really dont know

Sorry pookie 😫

But!! This is fanfiction! And you can make uo all your own information for these guys because theyre not real!! Thats like.. the essential run down i suppose?? If youre confused about anything just let me know 🥰 really, it looks all intimidating but these characters are super easy to understand. Try poking around tiktok for POVS, silly as they are(dont @ me i read them too😫) theyre really helpful for understanding personalities. I remember being super confused when i first found em too.

#rot says so #🦆 anon #got you added pookie ;)#slytherin boys #Professor Rots Slytherin Boys 101

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aziraphales-library · 1 year ago

Note

I *love* any fics where Crowley is hurt incredibly bad and Aziraphale must save him or bring him back to health. I also LOVE fics that delve into trauma or mental health which stripes the characters of their mask and they must rely on someone/each other. Do you have any recommendations for fics that are either, or both? Happy endings are a major must for me, but I am open to any suggestions!

You'll want to check our #crowley whump, #hurt crowley, and #protective aziraphale tags for loads of fics like this. Here are some that may or may not have been recommended before, but mind the tags on all of these!...

Where's My Mind? by ebullience24 (T)

See, the thing is: Crowley is tall. His height had caused a few stares back in the days where the tallest man stood at five foot five. And, because of his height, one might be inclined to describe him as slender with spindly fingers and snake-hips. The pun is never intended on that last one but it stands true nonetheless. And Crowley would be likely to agree with these statements: he is tall and slender and spindly and snake-hipped. But what Crowley would be less likely to agree upon is the statement that he, Anthony J Crowley, is underweight. OR: Crowley has an eating disorder. Trigger Warnings now and at the beginning of each chapter.

Safe Haven by McRaider (T)

When Anthony Crowley stepped back into Aziraphale's life for the first time after eight long years missing, it became exceedingly clear with him came a world of trouble and heartache. But Aziraphale never could say no to his beloved Crowley. Can he help Crowley heal after a failed marriage, a gas-lighting ex-wife with an evil plan?

To Speak the Unspoken by ihamtmus (T)

“Uhhhh… Hi,” Crowley started lamely, scrambling to find a way to explain the situation as quickly as possible. His mind was refusing to work properly, thoughts slow as if doused in oil. He hadn’t really thought about what to say on his way here – he’d been too busy focusing on the getting here part before he would collapse. “I was wondering if I could… If I could maybe die in here, if you don’t mind..?” The expression on Aziraphale’s face changed abruptly, telling him that the angel did, in fact, mind. (In which a mortally wounded demon just wants to get somewhere quiet to die but his Adversary will have none of it. A story of how they both learn just how much they care.)

Death in Love by Aspirina_Effervescente & Cyanidechan (M)

After tempting a composer to fame and success, Crowley is cursed by his wife and tormented by her ghost until the end of his days. Aziraphale would do anything to save him, the only problem is that he doesn't know what's going on and, anyway, the problem could be much more complicated than it seems. Inspired by Giuseppe Tartini’s Sonata “the Devil’s trill”

Drops of Sorrow by EdosianOrchids901 (M)

Ten years after the failed Apocalypse, Crowley is captured by Heaven. Gabriel plans to use him as bait to lure Aziraphale into a fight. Can Crowley survive captivity, and will Aziraphale be able to rescue him without walking into the trap?

A Touch of Heaven by IneffableToreshi (E)

A despondent and defeated Crowley has been through the ringer, moreso even than his roommate, Newt, realizes. After a car accident puts him though a number of surgeries and a temporary - but terrifying - few weeks of blindness, the club owner wants nothing more than to curl up in his bed and refuse to move until things return to normal...or as normal as they'll ever be again. Newt - and his cafe-owning girlfriend, Anathema - have other plans. They think that Crowley just needs some care and pampering, so Anathema schedules him a special, off-hours appointment with a friend of hers who is a rather sought-after masseur. Crowley is hesitant and stubborn, but Aziraphale's soothing voice and comforting nature soon win him over, in more ways than one...

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #hurt/comfort #crowley whump #hurt crowley #protective aziraphale #crowley has ptsd #mind the tags #mod d

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letsgoletsgetit08 · 2 months ago

Text

fix off pt. 2

summary: Mingi turns to every coping mechanism besides a healthy one in the aftermath of Jongho's death, two years later.

warnings: MDNI!!, 18+, su*c*de attempt, implied/referenced su*c*de, major character death, overdose, recreational drug use, religious imagery & symbolism, catholicism, barebacking, strangers to lovers, bittersweet ending, angst, hurt/comfort

pairing: priest!soft dom!Jeong Yunho x hot fucking mess!Song Mingi

author's note: HEY! Read the tags! This fic has some very heavy content! Please DO NOT READ this if mentions/discussion of suicide/attemps or character deat (RIP Jongho, so glad you're alive IRL, king) are in any way triggering to you! Also, know that myself and Ateez would be very sad if any Atiny or anyone else took their own life. Don't do it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ! !! !!! That said, this work is based on/influenced by/referencing - sometimes lightly, sometimes very directly because Phoebe Waller-Bridge is more of a genius than me - the show Fleabag. This show is personally very important to me, it both healed me in some ways and also hurt me very deeply. If you have seen the show, you know how this ends. Again, read the tags. Phoebe, if you happen to read this for whatever reason, I just hope you're flattered because of imitation and all that.

OKAY! Disclaimers disclaimed, please let me know if I missed anything. And with that, please enjoy. This one is kind of my baby. I hesitated to even post it here because I'm a little scared of how it will be received but you never know until you try, right? Comments, likes, & re-blogs are always welcome, but please be civil.

word count: 23,480

ao3 link: fix off

December 3rd

Mingi had been back at his apartment for a few weeks, finding it odd to be there. Exciting and nerve-wracking, but also comforting. It didn’t feel the same, but he hadn’t wanted to be at Wooyoung and San’s any longer. After Halloween weekend, he had been doing much better. Reading for fun again. His bar hadn’t even fired him, it turned out that Hongjoong had explained everything to his manager, who begrudgingly agreed, probably, Mingi thought, under Hongjoong’s scary gaze, to let him come back whenever he was ready. Mingi was very grateful. Yes, he had been considering if he had even wanted it any longer, but once he decided he wanted to go to grad school, he realized he would probably need at least a part time job. Plus, his savings wouldn’t last forever.

He was getting ready for dinner that night, debating on what to wear. Mingi honestly had no clue who all was going to be there besides his friends. Seonghwa hadn’t wanted to overwhelm him by forcing him to un-mute the group chat, so he just texted him the dress code, location, and time in a separate text.

Eventually, he landed on a black turtleneck under a blue (so dark it was nearly black itself) suit with a black satin lapel and matching blue suit pants. Black dress shoes. Silver jewelry.

Upon his arrival to the restaurant, he couldn’t help but be startled. His friends sat around a large round table, with the addition of a man in a black button-up with a little white piece in the collar, silver rosary necklace around his neck.

His beautiful neck.

The empty spot at the table was next to the hot priest.

“Mingi!” Hongjoong called as he approached, “Glad you’re here. This is Father Jeong Yunho. He’s going to be marrying us.”

The man, even taller than Mingi, large brown eyes holding a subtle mischievous glint, stood to shake Mingi’s hand, “Just ‘Yunho’ is fine. Nice to meet you.”

Mingi glanced down. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, his hands. “Mingi, nice to meet you.”

Yunho quirked an eyebrow, head tilting to the side like a confused puppy, almost like he could hear Mingi’s thoughts, “Seonghwa was just telling about how he and Hongjoong met.” He changed the subject.

“Yes!” Seonghwa exclaimed, evidently already a drink deep, “I mean we met in college, but we didn’t really meet each other until karaoke on New Year’s Eve…”

Mingi had heard the story a thousand times, letting his brain go blank as he ate, knowing that everyone else would carry the conversation.

He was right, too. It lasted through appetizers.

No one has said a word to me in half an hour.

“So, what do you do for a living?” Yunho turned to Mingi.

He probably jumped in his seat at the sudden attention, “Oh. Um. I’m a bartender.”

“He’s applying for grad school!” Seonghwa supplied.

“I’ve also recently decided to apply for grad school.” Mingi echoed, holding back from rolling his eyes at his friend.

“Amazing. What will you study?” Yunho’s eyes locked onto his like he was the only person in the room.

Mingi felt his face go red, “Oh. Um. Anthropology.”

“It’s okay, Mingi. Believe it or not, some priests also believe in evolution.” Yunho smiled kindly.

He’s sharp.

“Are you one of those priests?” Mingi couldn’t help but try to feed his curiosity some scraps.

“I am one of those priests.” Yunho winked, “I believe in a lot of things that would probably surprise you.”

“Gay marriage.” Mingi offered.

“Mingi!” Seonghwa accosted him.

Yunho chuckled, “Yes, including gay marriage. Just none for me, personally. They really frown upon that.”

What about gay sex?

Yunho raised his eyebrows, a movement so quick that Mingi was sure the whole table had missed it, seeming to follow Mingi’s train of thought.

“What's the worst wedding you've had to do so far?” Wooyoung piped up, changing the subject once again.

Yunho huffed a humorless laugh, “Ah, probably my brother's but that's because he's-”

“Uptight groom, huh?” Hongjoong offered.

��No, it’s-”

“I'm sure it was a little weird marrying a family member.” Seonghwa tried to conclude on his own.

“Did you not like his spouse?” Yeosang asked.

“He's dead!” Yunho said, a little too loudly, “Sorry. Yeah. This will actually only be my second wedding. Turns out Catholic priests who are willing to perform gay marriages aren't exactly in high demand.”

Mingi's hands had gone clammy at his words, “Cigarette.” He mumbled, pushing his chair back.

“Mingi, wait, I'll go-” Wooyoung called after him, but someone cut him off.

“Let me.” He heard Yunho's voice but didn't turn around, heading out the side door of the restaurant, steadying his breathing as he leaned against the brick wall. His hands shook as he brought the cigarette to his mouth.

Yunho was there beside him in the blink of an eye, raising a lighter and cupping his hand around Mingi's cigarette to light it.

He was grateful the man let him sit in silence for a minute. He heard him light his own cigarette, ignoring how he could see how pretty his lips looked as they wrapped around it from the corner of his eye.

Mingi let out a long draw, smoke hovering in the cold autumn air, “My friend, our friend, Jongho, passed away a little over two years ago.”

“Oh, Mingi, I'm sorry. I didn't know. This was supposed to be a get-to-know-each-other dinner so that I could do the couple justice at their wedding.”

Mingi could feel the others’ eyes on him, but didn't dare look quite yet, “There's no way you would have known. I've just been. Well. It's been a lot, lately. I'm trying to be better.”

Yunho leaned into his space far enough that Mingi had to look into his eyes. He had never felt eye contact that left him feeling so open, so vulnerable before. But not in a predatory way. Not like he was rolling over and showing his belly in submission. It was something else entirely. He felt seen. “If you ever need to talk, Mingi. My rectory is right behind the chapel. Over on 3rd street downtown.”

“I'm not religious.”

“Neither am I.” Yunho looked serious.

“You're literally a priest-” Mingi started.

“I know, I know. It's not that I don't believe, it's just… complicated. But I am a qualified person to lend an ear. If you ever need one.”

Mingi studied him as he took another drag of his cigarette. “I'll keep that in mind, Father. ” He blinked up at him through his eyelashes, just to see what reaction the man would have.

Yunho rolled his eyes, but Mingi clocked the exact shade of red his neck turned at his words. Yunho put his cigarette out on the wall beside him, “I'll see you back inside, then.”

Mingi’s head spun.

Why does the priest have to be hot?

December 7th

Returning to work was disorienting to say the least. The bar had a pretty high turnover rate, so no one he currently worked with had been there after Jongho passed. He had intentionally not gotten close with any of them since then. He had hoped his manager hadn’t said anything about why he had been gone, but as soon as he arrived, he knew that wasn’t the case. His coworkers all gave him horribly pitying looks and skirted around him like he might dissolve on the spot if they were anything but excessively gentle with him.

One of them tried to give him her tips when her shift was over. He declined, of course. Although the money would have been nice. Another one of the servers made sure to say “please” and “thank you” when dropping off drink orders. His fellow bartender had insisted upon letting him work the well so he didn’t have to deal directly with customers. It was nice and in theory, he appreciated it. But in practice, it made him feel singled out.

When his manager offered to cut him early, he accepted, pretending not to see the other bartender slip some of his tip money into Mingi’s tip jar while he thought Mingi wasn’t looking.

Mingi walked out, shivering in the chill air before remembering he had left Jongho’s hoodie inside. He turned back to retrieve it but something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. A bell tower piercing the night sky could be seen a few blocks away.

Yunho did say to come by any time.

He opened his phone to Google Maps to confirm that the church he was headed towards was indeed the one the priest had been referencing.

It was.

After retrieving his hoodie he began to make his way over.

He skirted around the outside of the main building, finding the rectory exactly where the man had said it would be.

Why did the priest have to be hot?

He knocked, never once considering it was nearly 11pm and non-bartenders with normal hours might be asleep.

Yunho answered the door a minute later, one eye still scrunched closed, hair mussed in the back, wearing a well-worn Spiderman t-shirt and athletic shorts.

“Mingi?” Yunho’s voice was raspy.

He remembered my name!

“Hi, sorry.” Mingi felt his ears go hot, “You said come by anytime-”

“No, no, of course.” Yunho rubbed his eyes, “I meant it, too. I just maybe hadn’t considered um. Bartender hours.”

Mingi stood like a deer in headlights, frozen in the doorway, “I can just go-”

“No.” Yunho moved out of the way, “I’ll put on some tea, come inside. I really don’t mind. I’ve just been, uh, really enjoying going to bed early lately.”

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing or I’ll kick you out.” Yunho turned towards his small kitchen, looking for the kettle.

“That seems counterintuitive, Father.” Mingi couldn’t help myself.

Yunho whipped around, “Oh, fuck off with that.”

“With what?” Mingi asked, trying to sound innocent.

Maybe he prefers ‘daddy’.

Yunho stared him down, “Do you want some wine instead?

Mingi chuckled, “Like… the blood of Christ himself?”

Yunho rolled his eyes, “No like wine from France that’s burning a hole in my cabinet.”

“Yes, that sounds nice.”

Yunho smiled, eyes tracing over Mingi’s face like he was reading the subtitles to his inner monologue. Mingi looked down, unable to stand having someone flay him open so casually like that. Yunho turned, fishing coffee mugs and the wine out of the cabinets.

“Sorry, I don’t own wine glasses, funnily enough.”

Mingi huffed haughtily, laying his fake distaste on heavily, “Ew, nevermind, I’m leaving.”

“No, wait, come back, I haven’t even made you repent yet!” Yunho called as he brought the coffee mugs over to the table, where he indicated for Mingi to sit.

“You’re just assuming I need to repent for something?” Mingi crossed his arms over his chest.

“Do you need to? Why don’t you tell me what brought you here tonight.” Yunho handed Mingi the coffee mug, fingers brushing.

Electricity shot up Mingi’s arm, nearly making him drop the mug.

God, his fingers.

“Where’d you just go?” Yunho caught his gaze again.

Mingi met his eyes, thinking that he might feel more naked in front of him now than he would if he actually had his clothes off. He ignored Yunho’s question. “I work nearby, actually. My shift was… weird tonight.”

“Weird how?” Yunho leaned in, propping his forearms on the table, listening intently.

“It was my first night back.” Mingi took a sip of the wine, letting it warm his insides and loosen his tongue, “I didn’t expect everyone to know and they all treated me like I would break.”

“First night back from…?” Yunho looked genuinely curious.

Mingi felt embarrassed, having gotten used to everyone knowing what he’d done that he was surprised when Yunho hadn’t been filled in. “Oh. I um. I tried to- well. I did overdose. About a month and a half ago. I apparently had some self-preservation left in me because I called Hongjoong at the last minute.” He stared at the wine in his mug the whole time he spoke, but could feel Yunho’s eyes on him the whole time. “I stayed with Wooyoung and San afterwards because everyone was scared I would… try again.”

“Mingi…” Yunho reached forward, grabbing Mingi’s wrist, “I’m glad you weren’t successful.”

“Because I would have gone to hell?” Mingi raised his eyebrow.

“Because I wouldn’t have gotten to meet you.” Yunho answered. His words hung in the air, the implication of them, the acknowledgement of the chemistry between the two of them crackling the atmosphere like heat lightning.

Mingi didn’t know what to say, but Yunho continued before he needed to reply, “You’re doing better now, though?”

Mingi nodded, “I am. I’m maybe actually um processing things. Rather than just coping. But everything on the other side is a little overwhelming, I guess. I hate that my friends are so worried. I want them to be able to just enjoy Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s wedding.”

“Hm.” Yunho let go of his wrist, taking a drink of his own wine, “Do you want my advice?”

Mingi smiled, “No, I came over just for the wine and weird energy between us.”

Yunho laughed, “Okay, heard, loud and clear.” He composed himself, taking a breath, “Mingi, I think that you have to realize your friends find it to be a privilege to have you in their lives to worry about you. Worrying is one of the biggest indications of caring about someone. The fact that you’re worrying about them worrying… well it sounds to me like you and your friends have a lot of love for each other. Just try to be grateful you have people to worry about and who worry about you in return. Not everyone can say that for themselves.” Mingi didn’t miss how the vein in Yunho’s forehead became slightly more pronounced at his last sentence.

He sighed, finishing his wine as he let Yunho’s words process, “I guess I hadn’t thought about it like that. Thank you.”

Yunho smiled, “Any time, Mingi. So I guess you don't actually have anything to confess then, hm?”

Mingi barked a laugh, “Ha! I have so much to confess but not tonight.” Mingi stared a hole through the table.

“Well,” Yunho waited until Mingi returned his eye contact, “I'm here. If you ever need to. Actually, here.” He pulled out his phone, “In case it's a very specific priest-related emergency.”

Mingi chuckled as he put his number into the man's phone, “Have you experienced a lot of those?”

“Nah,” Yunho dialed the number so Mingi would have his as well, “Surprisingly, most of the time it’s a pretty monotonous lifestyle.”

“Most of the time.” Mingi couldn’t help but admire the man’s pretty cheekbones, plush lips.

Yunho seemed to be doing the same, “Yeah.” He sighed, eyes lingering on Mingi’s lips a little too long to be subtle, “Most of the time.”

“I should get going. It’s past your bedtime.” Mingi stood up rather abruptly, breaking the tension.

“It is indeed, but that’s okay. I’m glad you came by.” Yunho’s expression was genuine, eyes holding a hint of what Mingi swore was forbidden desire swimming behind the surface.

Mingi stood to leave, letting Yunho walk him to the doorway. He turned before he was out the door, “Yunho?”

Yunho smiled softly, “Yeah?”

“Who do you have that worries about you?” Mingi whispered it, too nervous to speak any louder.

Yunho’s eyelids fluttered, “Surely after all the time I’ve devoted, the Lord himself worries for me.”

“He doesn’t count.” Mingi was standing so close he could have kissed him, “I’ll worry for you now.”

Yunho’s chest heaved at his words, “Mingi… I’ll worry for you, too.”

December 12th

Therapy.

Mingi was going to really try this time, too.

His chest was tight with anxiety as he entered her room, sitting on the couch opposite of her chair. She was older, hawk-like features trying to appear soft.

Not my type.

“Is there anything in particular you want us to focus on today?” She asked, reedy voice managing to cut through his nervous internal monologue.

He took a deep breath, then started the only place he knew to, “My best friend is dead.”

“That must be very hard for you.”

“Well, yeah. Made all the worse because I did something that I think contributed to him dying. We don’t even know for sure if it was a suicide or not. But I feel like deep down, we all know.” Mingi couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out.

“Why do you think you contributed to it?” She kept her face neutral.

“Because. It was a pretty direct cause and effect. I know I should probably tell them but I never even told him and I think if I had that he might still be here. He could have placed his anger on me rather than himself.” Mingi had never said it out loud before.

“Hm.” She considered his words, “Why do you think you should tell your friends? This seems to be something between yourself and your friend who passed on.”

“You don’t think I should tell them?” Mingi was surprised.

“If you would have told him originally, he would have been the one in the position to tell your friends what happened. Not you. It’s his to tell. So I think you should go tell him.” She said it like it was the simplest answer in the world.

“Go… tell him?” He was confused.

“Does he have a gravestone?”

“He’s in an urn. It’s with his parents.” Mingi replied, swallowing the lump in his throat.

She thought about it for a minute, “Do you have something of his?”

He nodded.

“Take it outside somewhere nice. Close your eyes and say it out loud like he’s there with you.”

“That will work?”

She chuckled, “It’s not a magic trick, Mingi. You can’t make grief or guilt go poof with a few words like a magic spell. But you can find ways to lessen their effects. To process. Heal. And I think doing this will help you.”

“I honestly did not come here thinking I would leave with homework.” Mingi couldn’t help but laugh.

She smiled, “I can’t force you to do anything. I’m just telling you what I think might assist you in building some coping skills.”

He sighed, slumping back, “Okay. I guess next time we'll get to the story about me trying to kill myself a few months ago.”

Her perfectly composed mask faltered slightly, eyes going wide at his words, “Oh, well, yes. We should definitely talk about that next time.”

Five Years Ago

“I can’t believe we’re about to graduate in a few months.” Jongho sighed, leaning his head against the wall of the library where they were studying.

“I can’t believe both of us spent four years here and we’ll just be bartending still. Like we could have done without a degree.” Mingi chuckled.

“Hey!” Jongho kicked his ankle, the angle weird since they were sitting side by side, taking a study break, “Are you saying you don’t think I’ll make it as a musician?”

“No way! Not at all. Of course I believe in you.” Mingi nudged him with his elbow, “I just think it’s funny that all of our friends have real people jobs, or at least auditions or grad school lined up and we don’t.”

“Hm.” Jongho looked at him, “Do you want a boring desk job?”

“Hell fucking no. I’d rather die.”

Jongho chuckled, “I’ll sing at your funeral, don’t worry.”

“Good. You better let me die before you.” Mingi fixed him with a serious expression, “I don’t know what I’d do if I had to live life without you, Jjong. I’m your elder, you have to listen to me on this one.”

“We’ll be in the same nursing home together, don’t even worry. If I feel like I’m going to die first, I’ll just murder you real quick.”

“Okay, good, thank you.” Mingi sighed, genuinely relieved at the thought of it, “And make sure they get us plots next to one another at the cemetery.”

Jongho gave him a disgusted look, “Ew, no, I want to be cremated. Whoever survives the longest from our group - Yeosang, I assume - has to put us side by side on his mantle, though.”

“Deal.” Mingi agreed.

December 13th

Mingi’s thumb hovered over the text box on his phone, typing and re-typing before finally sending the text.

I have a very specific priest-related favor to ask.

Father Daddy Yunho

I thought you’d never ask.

What’s up?

My therapist told me to go talk to my dead friend

I don’t want to do it alone

Father Daddy Yunho

I’m free after 3pm

Meet me at the rectum?

**RECTORY

Dear god, I should really proof-read before sending texts

Buy me dinner first

I’ll see you at your rectum at 3:30pm

Father Daddy Yunho

Ha! Happened to you, too!

No, I typed exactly what I meant to, Father

Father Daddy Yunho

I’m throwing my phone away now.

See you soon

Mingi knocked on the door of the rectory at 3:30pm sharp. He had barely started putting his hand down when it swung open.

“Hiya!” Yunho chirped, looking a little too peppy for the task at hand.

Mingi couldn't help but smile at the cute look on the priest's face, his eyes crinkled at the corners, “Hi, Father.” He simpered, laying it on a little thick, unable to resist.

“Bye.” Yunho pretended he was closing the door.

“No, wait!” Mingi stopped him, “I'll be good, I promise!”

Yunho closed the door behind himself, “Very well. Shall we?”

The walk to the park wasn't a long one, but it felt especially quick given how easy it felt to be around Yunho. He was quick-witted and funny, sometimes verging on cheesy, but fun to talk to, keeping Mingi on his toes in a way that made him feel like he had just hopped off a rollercoaster. Alive, heart pumping, cheeks hurting from laughter, hair swept back from the wind. Once they found Mingi’s favorite park bench overlooking the pond, he pulled noise-cancelling headphones out of his backpack, handing them to Yunho.

“Sorry, you don't mind, do you? I'm just not ready to tell anyone besides him yet.” Mingi hoped the explanation would be good enough.

Yunho's eyes were soft, understanding, “Of course.” He reached for them, fingers brushing Mingi’s again as he passed them over, the jolt of the contact going once again straight up Mingi’s spine.

“Thank you.” Mingi pulled Jongho’s hoodie out of his backpack, “Can you, um. Put that on, too. I just think it will help if I feel like I'm talking to a real person.”

Yunho slipped the hoodie on, not hesitating for a second, “I'm happy to help however you need, Mingi.” He slipped on the headphones, then put the hood up over them, turning to look at Mingi and giving him a small smile and thumbs up as Mingi scrolled through songs on his phone, finally finding one he remembered Jongho liking. Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears.

“Is it too loud?” Mingi shouted, but Yunho didn't flinch or even turn his head.

Mingi knew he could have been faking it. He knew that the man could try to listen to his confession. But for whatever reason, he knew Yunho wouldn't. He just wasn't like that.

Mingi couldn't deny how uncanny it was to see someone else in Jongho’s hoodie with the hood up. He understood how Wooyoung must have felt when he saw Mingi in it in his kitchen a while back. He stared at Yunho for quite a while, letting his mind fall into the illusion of it being Jongho beside him instead.

He cleared his throat, “Jongho. I-” His breath hitched, a lump forming in his throat immediately, “I'm who Tuesday cheated on you with. I'm so sorry.” His voice shook as he continued, “I should have told you immediately. I'm a horrible friend. And the fucked up thing is, I only did it because I knew you would forgive me. But then I couldn't even bring myself to ask for it. And you thought it was your fault he cheated somehow. I was just trying to test his loyalty and then it got out of hand and-” He paused as a sob caught in his throat, hearing Yunho sing the song that was playing quietly under his breath, exactly like Jongho would do if he had a song stuck in his head, “I'm just so sorry, Jongho.” He couldn't go on speaking as the tears took over. The movement of his body being racked by sobs must have caught Yunho’s attention because soon, he was being pulled into the man's warm, strong embrace.

“Shh, Mingi, it's okay. I've got you.” Gentle hands rubbed his back, “I've got you, Mingi, you're okay.”

Mingi composed himself enough to sniffle and croak out, “I'm sorry.”

“No, honey, don't apologize. You're okay.” Yunho cooed.

Mingi didn't miss the pet name, but chose to ignore it for the time being. The shock and excitement of hearing it did snap him out of his tears, though. He was used to such pet names from his friends, but this felt different.

Honey.

He finally composed himself, sitting up enough to look into Yunho's eyes, “Thank you.”

Yunho’s breath caught as he became cognizant of their proximity, “Do you feel any better?” His eyes trailed over Mingi’s lips as he asked it.

“I really do.” Mingi thought he might lean in and kiss him, but decided to pull back last second instead, “Maybe therapy isn't a total crock of shit.”

Yunho did a good job of hiding his confusion, covering it with a laugh, “I'm glad you're going to therapy, Mingi. I hope it's helpful to you. I think it shows a great deal of love for yourself to seek out help when you need it.”

“I hadn't thought about it that way.” Mingi confessed.

“Do you not think you love yourself?” Yunho asked, his deep voice soft as silk.

Mingi considered the question. I did just try to off myself. “I don't know. I think I'm trying to. Or I want to try. Which is better than could be said about me two months ago.”

“Hmm.” Yunho studied him, “I think that even trying or wanting to try shows that you already do. Are you going to try, Mingi?”

I'd do anything you asked me to.

Yunho’s expression changed to one of curiosity, like he had just witnessed something he wasn't supposed to have seen, “There! Just then. You seem like you're here with me and then I'll lose you out of nowhere. Where is it you're going?”

“I probably just had to sneeze or something.” Mingi lied, feeling cagey, like he was being backed into a corner.

He's lost it.

“That was it again just now!” Yunho was teasing but Mingi felt the end of his nose get tickly with frustration.

“You're being weird.” Mingi was deflecting. He just wasn't used to feeling so seen.

Yunho’s face fell, “Sorry. I didn't mean to offend-”

“It’s fine.” Mingi snapped, “Thank you for helping me, can I have the hoodie back now? I'm ready to go home.”

“Yeah, of course, sorry…” Yunho trailed off, looking embarrassed that he had just gotten scolded.

He took the hoodie off carefully, handling it like it was a sacred artifact. Which to Mingi, it was.

“‘S fine.” Mingi mumbled as he started to put the hoodie in his backpack, but stopped as a chilly breeze blew in, deciding to wear it instead.

They walked back to the rectory in silence, both of them evidently with a lot on their minds.

“I actually have something for you.” Yunho said a little hesitantly as they arrived, going inside to retrieve it.

“Um. Okay.” Mingi didn't know what to say.

Yunho handed him a Bible, well-worn and almost excessively annotated, “I, uh. Highlighted some of my favorite parts.”

Mingi tried to refuse, “Oh, I mean, I really don't-”

“Read it.” Yunho all but pleaded, “For me, Mingi. Trust me. I'm not trying to make you believe. It's just really well written in some parts.”

Mingi reached up and took the book into his hands. It felt weird. Almost like he could feel the book breathe in time with Yunho. “Okay. Yes, Father.”

Yunho rolled his eyes, “You really have to stop saying that.”

“Because it turns you on?”

“Because it turns you on.” Yunho parried, eyes leveling with Mingi’s, his stare unwavering.

Both things are true.

Mingi blinked, not denying it.

“Call me if you want to talk about any of it or have any questions or anything.” Yunho offered, referring to the Bible, breaking the heated silence all at once.

“I will.” Mingi didn't know what else to say. ‘Thanks’ felt wrong because he wasn't quite sure he was thankful for the book. “Thanks again for going with me today. I'll, um. See you.”

“Anytime. Really. Bye, Mingi.” Yunho looked like he didn't really want him to go. “Be safe.”

Holy shit he was not joking.

Mingi felt scandalous as he lay in bed, reading some of the most toe curling, shocking, dark and sexy literature he'd ever read in his life. From what was supposed to be a holy book.

He didn't hesitate to call when he needed context for a particular story. Or, maybe he just wanted to hear Yunho’s voice.

“Mingi.” Yunho answered the phone, though it was past his bedtime, voice raspy with drowsiness.

“So what's the significance of washing feet? It seems kinky to be honest.”

Yunho chuckled, “I'm sure it easily could have been. It's a sign of respect. Reverence. Mary Magdalene didn't have the proper supplies but she was determined to do it. She presented herself to him anyway. Worshipped him with what she had. Judgement from others be damned, she did it with the faith that Jesus would understand and not be so caught up in the how but instead understanding of the why.”

“A calculated risk.” Mingi thought he understood.

“Yes.” Yunho's breath picked up slightly on the other end of the line, “A surrender.”

Mingi couldn’t help that he was getting aroused at Yunho's words and his voice. He let out a tiny whimper unwittingly, touching himself through his boxers.

“I think I understand her.” Mingi confessed.

Mingi heard a faint rustling - bedsheets, he assumed - on the other line before Yunho spoke again, deep voice barely above a whisper, “How so?”

“I just…” He took a shaky breath, “Sometimes I wish someone would just tell me what to do. I fucked it up for so long on my own. I think it would be nice for someone else to take the reins for me.”

“Mingi-” Yunho spoke his name like a prayer. “Say what you’re asking of me. I need to hear you say it.”

“Please. Tell me what to do, Father.” Mingi exposed his desires, laying himself naked at Yunho’s feet.

Metaphorically.

He palmed himself harder, not giving himself the satisfaction of skin to skin contact yet.

Yunho hesitated, taking an excruciatingly long deep breath, before finally, “That’s it, very good. I knew you could say it. Are you already touching yourself, Mingi?”

“Not yet,” Mingi whined, “I'm trying to be good.”

“Good boy.” Yunho growled, “Just do what I say, okay?”

Fucking hell.

“Okay.”

“‘Okay?’” Yunho sounded put out, “Do I need to teach you manners, too, darling?”

“No, sir.” Mingi’s considerable length was threatening to rip a hole through his boxers, “Sorry… Father. I'll be good.”

“I know you will. You're already so responsive. I can hear your breath shaking. Why don't you show me how much you like this, hm? Take your underwear off for me, gorgeous.”

“Yes, sir.” Mingi obeyed, then decided to pop his airpods at the last second, knowing he would want to be hands-free at some point.

“Let me see. I bet you're already leaking just at the sound of my voice, aren't you?”

Mingi whimpered at the truth of it, turning on his lamp to get the lighting right as he fisted his throbbing cock, making sure to capture the glint of the shiny pearl of pre-cum already having had gathered at the tip. “Yes, sir. Just look.” He sent the photo.

He swore he heard Yunho muffle a whine on the other line, “Christ, Mingi, what the hell am I going to do with you?” It was rhetorical, but Mingi answered anyway.

“Cum with me, I hope.”

Yunho laughed, the sound of it strained as Mingi could hear the slick noise of lube being applied in the background, “Oh, don't worry, sweetheart. I plan on it. Go ahead and touch yourself. Close your eyes and listen to my voice. I want you to pretend that's my hand that's stroking your pretty cock, baby.”

“Yes, sir.” Mingi whined as he spit into his hand and grasped himself genuinely, working the pre-cum that had spilled out down his length for extra lubrication.

“I love how you sound, honey.” Yunho groaned, “Such sweet noises from that pretty mouth of yours.” His voice was becoming strained, “I've thought about your lips since I met you. How plush they are. How they'd feel on mine.”

Mingi’s pace quickened at the man's words. Every nerve on fire, senses alight. “Please, I want that so bad, Yunho.”

“How they would feel wrapped around my cock.” He gasped on the other line.

“Please, I'll do anything-”

“Tell me how my hand feels around you, baby.” Yunho instructed.

“You feel incredible, Yunho. I'm- I'm getting close.” Mingi’s hips bucked and he knew he wouldn't last long.

“Fuck, Mingi.” Yunho whined, “Me, too.”

“Wish you were here.” Mingi all but sobbed.

“I know. I know, I do, too.” Yunho panted, “Go ahead and let go for me, angel. Cum all over my hand.”

Mingi let out a noise that would make a nun faint and a seasoned war veteran blush, releasing endless amounts of thick, hot liquid onto his hand and stomach, breathing hard from the effort, calling out, “Yunho-” at his release.

“Mingi-ahh!” Yunho echoed him. Mingi knew he would become easily addicted to the sound of the man’s pleasure if he ever got to hear it again.

“Thank you.” Mingi said, catching his breath, voice sounding small, sated.

“No, thank you, jagi. You were so good for me, honey.” Yunho, too, was out of breath as he praised him from the other line, “Are you okay? That wasn't too much?”

“It was so good, Yunho.” Mingi breathed, “I feel safe with you.” He couldn’t believe he admitted it.

“Mmh, I'm so glad, baby.” Yunho's voice was warm on the other line, so close that Mingi could almost feel him in the room with him.

“Yunho?”

“What is it, sweetheart?” Yunho’s dulcet tones soothed Mingi’s nerves like a balm.

“Can you. Um.” Mingi swallowed, “Nevermind.”

“No, what is it, angel? Do you want me to stay on while you fall asleep?” Yunho sounded so concerned, so sweet.

“Is that too much to ask?”

“No, of course not. I'm happy to do it. I enjoy any time I get to spend with you, Mingi.” Mingi's heart warmed at the vulnerability of the statement.

“Me, too, Yunho.” He smiled, finished cleaning himself and curled up into bed, fluffy duvet falling over his shoulder, half wishing Yunho was there behind him.

“Sleep well, Mingi.” Yunho yawned, “Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight, Yuyu.” Mingi was only half-conscious of letting the nickname slip out.

“Mmh.” Yunho sighed, “What am I going to do with you, Mingi.”

But Mingi was already asleep.

December 19th

Mingi sank down once again onto his therapist's couch, feeling a little nervous, but also excited to report that things had gone well talking to his friend last week. And it was true. Mingi had to admit that he had felt somewhat of a weight off of his shoulders after confessing.

Maybe the Catholics are onto something.

“I'm expecting an A+.” Mingi quipped as his therapist entered the room.

She tried to maintain her professional air but Mingi caught the slight upward curl of her lip, clearly amused, “I'm sorry, Mingi, I don't give out grades. But I'm assuming that means you did your ‘homework’ as you called it?”

“I did.” Mingi nodded.

“How do you feel afterwards?” She asked, leaning forward.

“I feel… like it was the right thing to do.” He sighed, “I had a new friend - well, I’m not sure I can really call him a friend, but that’s all he can be - help me out. I’ve been trying to ask for help when I need it. It’s hard for me, but I’m doing it. I just feel so embarrassed when I do ask for it. But this new friend of mine… I don’t mind asking him for help. I want him to help me. I want, like, a lot of things from him, though.” Mingi felt that he was rambling, stopping himself before he said something he wasn’t even ready to admit to himself.

“Hmm.” His therapist had been taking notes, but stopped to meet his eye, “When you said all you could be is friends, what does that mean?”

“He’s a priest.”

Her eyes went wide, something that Mingi found amusing, knowing how hard she tried to keep a poker face with him, “So it’s forbidden.”

“Sacrilege, yes.”

“That’s part of what appeals to you about it, though.” It was technically a question but she said it as a statement.

“I, um.” Mingi felt himself become a little overwhelmed, “I guess I hadn’t thought about it like that. But yes, I’m sure it plays a part.” He knew she was right as soon as she had said it.

“And it’s mutual?”

Mingi’s ears went hot at the thought of just how mutual it had been the other night.

If only she knew.

“It’s definitely mutual.” He confirmed, hoping he wasn’t being too candid.

"We're supposed to be talking about your suicide attempt." She fixed him with a stony expression.

"Aw, come on, please let me talk about boys!" He whined.

“Well, okay. Next time.” She considered, “You’re both adults. He knows the risks as much as you do. As long as it’s consensual and enjoyable and you are fully aware that there’s a significant if not one-hundred percent chance that he’s going to choose God over you in the end, I don’t really see how it’s an issue. If you think you can handle it, emotionally. See where it goes.”

“I’m not sure I can handle it. But I also don’t think I can handle not trying to explore it.”

“Ah, yes, isn’t that Tennyson? ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’” She quoted a line from a poem Mingi vaguely thought he had heard before. Regardless, it fit exactly how he was feeling about everything. “Yeah. I think that’s it exactly. I’ve had that mindset for a long time, actually. But before I got to the point where I wanted to end things, it came from a different place.”

“How so?”

“I guess because it was never mutual before. I would follow any thread pretty recklessly, knowing how I would be left on the other side, but going anyway. Fully cognizant of the fact that these whims had no concern for my well-being. I think it was a form of self-flagellation. But now that I’m learning to love myself, it’s different, I guess. It’s safe to love the priest because it has to end, not because it won’t. The predetermination of it is the perfect out.”

She studied him, absorbing what he had just said, “I think you’re too self-aware for your own good, Mingi.” She smiled, a first, “Why do you think you find comfort in the fact that it has to end?”

Mingi chuckled, “I don’t know. I think because I’m not ready to do anything more than microdose love. At least not yet. And I can also tell that this is going to set the standard for me going forward.”

“But you’re still hesitating. Why?”

“I’m fucking scared. I’m half convinced I’m lying to myself about every justification I just gave you.” Mingi let his head tip back to the back of the couch, emotionally exhausted.

“I think you’ve already made up your mind about it, though. And if you want my two cents, which, I’m assuming you do, I think it’s okay to be scared. It’s good to do scary things. Within limits, of course. But I think letting yourself be loved, even briefly, and although yes, very scary, it’s still a beautiful thing.”

“I thought you would try to stop me.” Mingi raised an eyebrow at her.

“I fear that only would have driven you towards it faster. Plus, it’s not my job to try to stop you. It’s my job to help you through it.”

I’m going to fuck the hot priest.

December 24th

It had been a few days since he had heard too much from Yunho, at least outside of the few texts they sent back and forth each day. His therapist’s words rattled around in his head the whole time. He’d been doing a lot of letting himself be seen lately and it wasn’t the easiest, but at least he paid her for it. When it was Yunho, it felt raw, exhilarating.

The bar was closed for Christmas - and it was still rather early in the morning - so Mingi was home, and very surprised when his phone buzzed.

Father Daddy Yunho

I have a very specific priest-related crisis that I need your help with, please

An in-person emergency?

Father Daddy Yunho

Yes, please hurry.

I’ll order coffee if you pick it up on your way over.

Did I mention pretty please?

Only because you asked so nicely.

Mingi struggled to knock with two large coffees in his hand, but luckily, Yunho was antsy and had been waiting for his arrival.

“Oh my god, my hero!” Yunho praised him as he entered, taking his coffee cup from Mingi.

They hadn’t talked much about their activities the other night, but it didn’t really bother Mingi, mostly because Yunho hadn’t just completely ghosted him and had treated him as normal as things had ever been between the two of them in the days following.

“What’s this emergency?” Mingi asked, making himself at home on the couch.

Yunho blushed and Mingi had to restrain himself from launching himself at the man and kissing his rosy cheeks to make the blush even worse. “I’m way overthinking it, but I need help choosing which vestment and chasuble to wear for the Christmas Eve service tonight.”

Mingi’s face lit up, “Fashion show!” He giggled, watching Yunho’s face crack open with a smile at his excitement.

Yunho looked good in everything, and Mingi told the man as much as he showed him option after option while they drank their coffees and chatted about nothing. But the dark green robes with cream and gold accents were so lovely on him that Mingi declared them the winners.

“For someone who claims to not be religious, you sure do seem nervous for tonight.” Mingi chided him lightheartedly.

“I’m not religious.” Yunho looked at him seriously, his eyes seeming to search Mingi’s for some sign of understanding.

“And I’m still fascinated by that claim.” Mingi replied, settling into the couch, waiting for an explanation.

Yunho crossed over and sat down next to Mingi on the couch, “I grew up hating everything about religion. Catholicism, in particular. I still am very critical of it. For me, being a priest is like a vegan who chooses to work in a slaughterhouse because they trust themselves to be more humane in the animal’s last moments than someone else would be. Sacrificing their morals in order to save them. If I weren’t in this position, someone else would be, and at least I can trust myself to not be the stereotype of a Catholic priest.”

Mingi considered this, “Well, don’t they say the last person who would ask for power is the first person who should be given it? I think that it’s admirable of you, Yunho.”

Yunho smiled, but his eyes still held something Mingi couldn’t quite put a finger on, “Thank you. That’s very kind of you to say. But in all honesty, Mingi, I don’t know what I would have done, don’t know what would have happened, had I not chosen this path. I…” He took a deep breath, finding Mingi’s eyes once again, “I have a very addictive personality, Mingi. This was the only way I felt like I could trust myself. And it’s worked, so far.”

“So far.” Mingi echoed him, studying every single square inch of his face, suddenly hit with the realization that he wouldn’t have forever with the man beside him to ever fully memorize it. Mourning what he had yet to lose.

“You scare the shit out of me, Mingi.” Yunho confessed, hand finding Mingi’s own, thumb tracing softly over his knuckles.

Mingi swallowed, feeling like he had just been hit with a truck at the confirmation that Yunho had it just as bad for him. He drew his hand back, “Maybe we…” He tried to blink back the tears he could feel pricking at the corners of his eyes, “I’m sorry, it’s all too much, I have to go. I’m sorry, Yunho.”

Yunho looked like a puppy who had just been kicked, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, it’s not your fault, I promise. I’m just- It’s just too much right now…”

“I understand.” Yunho cast his eyes down to the floor, “I’ll leave you alone, Mingi. I’m sorry.”

Mingi turned and stood up, heading out the door without a backwards glance as his tears finally began to fall.

December 30th

Mingi dreaded tonight. Rehearsal dinner. He was so excited and happy for Hongjoong and Seonghwa, of course. Happy to see his friends. But he knew Yunho would be there, and they hadn’t talked since Christmas.

Mingi had gone to Christmas mass the next night. He watched from a pew at the very back as Yunho spoke, followed along the best he could to all the standing and kneeling and singing. He was mesmerized by all of it. Yunho was good at his job. He had made eye contact with Mingi from his spot at the pulpit, and his gaze said more than his words. He looked apologetic. Mingi realized he would never try to convince the man to leave the church for him. That was where he belonged.

It didn’t help him stop yearning for him, though. In fact, it made it all the worse.

Besides the night he had seen Yunho in his Spiderman pajamas, and his brief donning of Jongho’s hoodie, tonight was the first time Mingi had seen him in regular street clothes.

A dark blue sweater that made his eyes look an even more rich chestnut brown, slacks and loafers. It was nothing crazy but still.

Salt in the wound. Unable to stop the visions of the two of them together just living a normal life. Domestic bliss. A dream that would never be actualized.

To make things even worse, Yunho seemed to be trying to spare him that night. Intentionally ignoring Mingi, avoiding eye contact.

He left early, while Mingi was in the bathroom.

Bastard.

Mingi had manners and waited until everyone else was leaving, said proper goodbyes, Wooyoung and San keeping an eagle eye on him.

“Everything okay, Mingi?” Wooyoung asked as he hugged him bye.

Mingi sighed, “It’s kind of a long story.”

San smiled gently at him, “We’re all ears if you need to talk about it.”

He looked between his two friends, reminding himself of the promise he had made, “I’m sort of in love with the priest.”

Wooyoung and San made identical shocked faces, the former snapping out of it to start barraging him with questions, “Are you guys together? You’re not going to make him lose his job, right? Is it mutual?!”

Mingi groaned, “Ugh, no. We’re not together. It’s absolutely mutual. Not that either of us have said it. We both know how it will end. But we both want to do something about it. Like. Bad. Something besides the phone sex.”

San high-fived him, “Hell yeah, nice.”

Wooyoung glowered at his boyfriend, “You both are such bros sometimes, it’s hard to remember you’re bisexual.”

Mingi and San looked at each other and couldn’t help but laugh. Wooyoung rolled his eyes, “Mingi. I’m sure you’ve already made up your mind. And judging by the way he completely ignored you tonight, I’m sure Yunho is on the same page.”

“He’s right.” San nodded, “Just please, don’t take it too hard on the other side. And remember we’re here for you. Don’t you dare start isolating again when this inevitably ends like I’m sure you’re both well aware it will.”

“I know.” Mingi sighed. As much as he knew that logically, there was only one way things between he and Yunho could end, there was still the smallest glimmer of delusional hope that reared its ugly head every single time the inexorable end was mentioned. “I promise, I won’t try to deal with the aftermath alone. You guys just have to promise you won’t hate me if I’m mopey and miserable for a little while.”

Wooyoung scoffed, “Mingi, we could never hate you. There’s no reality where you’re too much for us. I know we didn’t have the best way of showing it, but I promise you, we love you so much and we want to be there for you. Just like I know you want to be there for us.”

“It’s what family is for.” San agreed. Mingi couldn’t help but feel his heart warm at his wording. Really, they were his family. He was finally starting to believe they always would be.

“I love you guys.” Mingi admitted, hugging them tight before darting off towards the fate that awaited him at his favorite priest’s living quarters.

“Good luck!” They called after him.

Mingi arrived to the rectory out of breath and sweating under the layers he was wearing.

It felt like an eternity after he knocked before the door swung open, revealing a red-nosed, puffy eyed Yunho.

“Mingi, you shouldn't be here.” Yunho couldn’t even look Mingi in the eye when he said it.

“I’ll leave. If you actually want me to.” Mingi took a step closer, removing his coat and scarf, tossing them inside, all but demanding to be let it.

Yunho sighed, moving out of the doorway, closing the door softly behind Mingi. Clicking the lock into place.

“Are you finished ignoring me now?” Mingi asked, edging closer to Yunho's personal space.

The priest finally leveled his eyes to Mingi’s, “I could never ignore you, Mingi.” He moved microscopically closer, the air between them sparking with electricity, “I was trying to make it easier on you. Given how you left the other day. I didn't want to push your boundaries.”

Mingi leaned further in, “You scare the hell out of me, Yunho.” He quoted the man back to himself, “Yet here I am. I can't stay away. I've read the book. I know the end.”

Yunho’s eyelids fluttered as he reached forward, taking Mingi's hand in his own, bringing it up to his lips, kissing each knuckle slowly.

“Like a lamb to slaughter.” Yunho whispered, his breath tickling the back of Mingi’s hand.

“No,” Mingi gasped as Yunho worked his way up the inside of his forearm, “No, I feel like a lamb who trusts his shepherd. But neither of us can help that we're surrounded by wolves.”

“Blind faith.” Yunho's voice was deep, unwavering.

“Isn't that the only way to reach heaven?” Mingi asked.

Yunho placed Mingi’s hand that he was still holding onto his chest. Mingi could feel his heart beat through the fabric of his sweater, perfectly in time with his own. The priest leaned in, lips barely whispering over Mingi’s as he spoke, “You'll let me take you there?”

Mingi felt the desire for the man in front of him in every fiber of his being, “Please, Yunho.”

Time stood still as Yunho pressed his lips to Mingi’s for the first time. They were soft and warm, reverent as they explored him. There was something desperate about how they slotted together, savoring each movement, neither of them in a rush, despite the knowledge that they were on borrowed time.

Mingi felt like he had just jumped off a cliff. Free falling. Yunho would catch him, he knew. Even if it was brief. His feet would hit the ground hard, come morning. But tonight he would relish in the exhilaration. The head rush of lying prostrate at the feet of the man with whom he was in love, but would never have the privilege of loving.

The kiss deepened, heads turning to the side for better access, bodies pressing together, desperate to feel, to touch. To worship.

A soft moan escaped Mingi’s lips as Yunho guided his tongue inside to explore the other's mouth. Mapping it out, committing it to memory. Mingi's hands found purchase in the silky hair at the nape of Yunho's neck, fingernails scraping lightly at his scalp. He thought he might die at the noise that left the man’s mouth at his touch. It was almost too much. Mingi felt his head starting to swim and pulled back to catch his breath.

He was caught off guard, though he shouldn't have been, at how beautiful Yunho looked with flushed cheeks and plump, parted lips, blood red and shiny with spit.

“You okay?” Yunho asked gently, caressing Mingi’s face softly with his elegant hands.

Mingi shivered at his feather light touch, “I just needed a second.”

Yunho peered straight into his soul, a feeling with which Mingi was becoming familiar. “Come sit down.” He backed away, leading Mingi by his hand to the couch.

Mingi sat, peering up at Yunho through his eyelashes, waiting for further instruction.

Yunho dipped down and kissed him sweetly on his forehead, “You trust me?”

“Fully.” Mingi breathed.

“I'll be right back.” Yunho stood, heading into his kitchen.

Mingi heard the water running in the sink and couldn't help but be curious.

Yunho arrived a few moments later with an intricately designed metal basin full of warm water, soap and a couple of towels in hand. Mingi was speechless. He could have giggled, been embarrassed, felt too shy or silly to continue. He would have, had it been anyone else kneeling in front of him. Yunho’s sweater was rolled up to his elbows and Mingi couldn’t help but study his forearms and hands as he placed the towel and water basin down in front of Mingi, light blue veins prominent on the backs of his lovely hands, beautifully landscaped under soft, flawless skin.

Yunho reached forward and rolled Mingi’s pants legs up with deft fingers. He leaned forward as he lifted Mingi’s left leg, pausing with it in front of him, practically bowing down as he began kissing softly from his ankle up to his calf, his lips barely ghosting over Mingi’s skin. He released his foot into the water, which was the perfect temperature, before moving on to the next one. Mingi’s head tipped back and his eyes closed at the intimacy of it. But as he felt Yunho’s hands find his left foot once more, lifting it so he could wash it properly, he opened them to watch, not wanting to miss a moment of the man’s act. Yunho’s brow was ever so slightly furrowed in concentration as he massaged Mingi’s feet with soapy hands. He was so beautiful, a face to match the quality of his heart. Mingi’s own heart ached, and he let it. Determined to be present for every emotion that overcame him, at least this once. Just this one night.

Being worshipped. It was the most mind-bending experience of Mingi’s life. Feeling both worthy yet completely undeserving of it simultaneously. A miracle that someone would display such devotion to him. A miracle that he would let himself allow it. Jeong Yunho, a miracle.

Yunho lifted Mingi’s feet out of the water as he finished, moving the basin over so he could dry them off.

“Thank you.” Yunho whispered, leaning forward to kiss the inside of Mingi’s knee, resting his head there for a second as he fixed his gaze on Mingi’s face.

“I should be thanking you.” Mingi blinked, shocked that he was the one being thanked, “Can I wash yours as well?”

Yunho shook his head, “No, Mingi. Thank you. But let me take care of you tonight. Please.” He stood up, pulling Mingi to his feet as well, “Can you do that for me, jagiya?” He touched Mingi’s cheek, and Mingi felt himself lean into it.

“Yes. I want that, Yunho.” Mingi met his eye, “Please.” He let the word hover in the air.

Yunho smiled, “Follow me.”

Mingi was led to a part of the rectory he had never seen before. A small, cozy bedroom in the hallway behind the kitchen. The bedroom was exactly what one might picture a bedroom in a Catholic church to look like. Mingi highly doubted Yunho had chosen much of the decor, certainly not the four-poster bed. Yunho led him over, stopping at the side of the bed to pull Mingi in for another kiss, his hands reaching up to start unbuttoning Mingi’s dress shirt, then followed with his own sweater. Mingi gaped at the priest’s body, looking like it could just as easily be carved from marble as it could be skin. But unlike a statue, he was soft and warm to the touch. They couldn’t stop their hands from skimming over one another’s bodies, touching everywhere that they could reach.

Yunho revered his body, fingertips lightly skimming over his hips working upwards, back to Mingi’s face, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Yunho broke the kiss long enough to asess Mingi’s body, “Oh, angel, you’re so beautiful.” He reached down to begin unbuckling Mingi’s belt, “I need to see all of you.”

Mingi opened his mouth to reply but his brain went blank as Yunho guided his pants off and returned, fingers lightly grazing Mingi’s cock, which was quickly filling with blood at his touch. He whimpered as his boxers were pulled off and he was finally free, no more uncomfortable tightness.

“You’re so lovely.” He leaned in, kissing across Mingi’s jaw, causing him to have to latch on to Yunho’s hips with his hands for balance, breath sucked out of his lungs at Yunho’s attention, “So reactive.” Yunho smiled into Mingi’s neck, then pulled back to work his own pants and underwear off. Mingi would have tried to get them off sooner, but Yunho had requested he be the one to do the caretaking, and for once in his life, Mingi wanted to do exactly as he was told.

Yunho walked him back a couple of steps until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed, “Why don’t you lay down, Mingi? Get comfortable.”

Mingi situated himself in the middle of the bed, head on the pillows, propped up enough to where he didn’t have to strain his neck to watch whatever Yunho planned to do to him.

Yunho placed lube and condoms within reach on the bed, then crawled in between Mingi’s legs, lifting his feet one at a time and placing the soles down flat on the mattress before slowly starting to kiss up the inside of his legs once more, nipping and marking him occasionally as he went. Mingi felt his dick hit his stomach, now painfully hard. Yunho pulled his lips off a particularly tender spot on his inner thigh, soothing the mark he had made with his tongue before leaning forward, hovering over Mingi to kiss him again, wrapping his long fingers around the other’s wrists, pinning his arms up by his head as he began kissing his way down his neck, then chest, lips landing on Mingi’s erect nipple, pulling it into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue before letting go and moving to the next one. Mingi gasped at the sensation.

Yunho laughed sweetly into his skin, lips popping off of his nipple as he spoke, “So sensitive, baby. I love it. Wanna hear you keep making those pretty noises for me.”

“Yes, sir.” Mingi whined, “I will.”

“Such a good boy.” Yunho praised as he sat up to apply lube to his fingers. “Mmh, god, look at you. I want to devour you.” His eyes were on Mingi’s cock when he said it, but it was still a surprise when he leaned down to lick a stripe up the underside of Mingi’s throbbing dick, flicking his tongue as he reached the tender underside of the head.

Mingi whimpered, “Fuck, please, Yunho.”

“Shh,” Yunho quieted him, “There’s no rush, darling. I want to make you feel so good.” His finger started tracing circles around Mingi’s rim, “You still trust me to do that, right?”

“God-” Mingi gasped as Yunho’s tongue found the tip of his cock again, “Fuck. Yes, sir. I trust you.”

“Good,” Yunho’s finger began applying pressure, slipping inside as Mingi relaxed, “I’m so glad.”

Mingi was right to have admired Yunho’s hands. His fingers were incredible, long with prominent knuckles, reaching deep inside of Mingi, the sensation almost being too much to handle. As Yunho worked his second finger inside, his mouth found the head of Mingi’s leaking cock once again, taking it inside, moaning at how Mingi filled him up. Both men were large. Mingi was glad for Yunho’s fingers after seeing just how stuffed full of Yunho he would be very soon. Yunho’s fingers found Mingi’s prostate, applying pressure there in time with the bobbing of his head as he sucked Mingi’s cock down, acting more protestant than priest in that moment.

“Yunho, ‘m gonna cum if you keep doing that!” Mingi warned as his hips bucked in response to the attention Yunho was giving him.

Yunho pulled off, the release of his mouth off of Mingi’s dick making a faint pop noise, “Well, we can’t have that yet, can we?” He added a third finger, scissoring them open to ensure Mingi was fully prepped to take him.

“No, please, not yet. Want you inside.” Mingi almost felt panicked at the idea of cumming without Yunho buried deep inside of him.

Yunho smiled, reaching for the condom, “As you wish.”

“Wait,” Mingi stopped Yunho as he tried to rip the packet open, “I’m clean, I swear. Can I please take you raw?”

Yunho growled, “Fuck, Mingi, you must be trying to kill me.” But despite his words, he tossed the condom to the side and reached for the lube instead, “I’d love to, honey.”

Yunho lined himself up, leaning down to kiss Mingi again before he began his slow venture inside.

It was unlike any feeling Mingi had ever had in his life. Completely at Yunho’s mercy. Surrendering himself. The sensation of being filled, split in half, washed over him, tears spilling out of the corners of his eyes as Yunho finally, decadently, buried himself to the hilt. “God, Mingi, you took me so well, darling.” He kissed the tears off of Mingi’s cheeks, “Still doing okay?”

“I’m perfect.” Mingi sighed, overwhelmed at how content he felt as he was speared within an inch of his life.

“I think that might actually be true.” Yunho muttered, “You feel like you were made for me. Can I move now?”

“Yes, god, please move, Yunho.” Mingi begged.

The first pump of his hips and Mingi saw stars. He savored every sensation, Yunho’s cock gliding in and out, reaching the depths of Mingi’s insides.

Mingi canted his hips so they met Yunho’s motion in the middle, their bodies slamming together, becoming desperate in their pursuit of release.

“Fuck, Mingi-” Yunho gasped as he fucked into him harder, motion still slow and languid, his talented fingers wrapping around Mingi’s desperate cock, stroking him in time with his hips. “Feel so good. Sucking me in like that.”

“Yunho-” Mingi moaned, lost in the sensation, “God, Yunho-yah.”

“Mmh, that’s right. Say my name, baby. I love hearing it.” Yunho’s pace quickened, highlighting his point.

“Yunho, please,” Mingi babbled, completely cockdrunk, “Want you to fill me up. Please, Yunho-”

“Oh I will, sweetheart.” Yunho grunted, adjusting Mingi’s hips ever so slightly, getting the angle just right, “You have to cum with me though. Can you do that?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, Yunho, please.” Mingi’s voice was weak, demonstrating exactly how deprived he felt.

“So close-” Yunho pumped his hips a few more times, harder than ever, his pace faltering, before he finally let go, “Fuck, Mingi-”

Mingi was nothing if not obedient, crying out as he released over Yunho’s hand and his own stomach.

Yunho slumped over Mingi as he came down, pulling out slowly before falling to the bed beside him. Mingi reached out hesitantly, not knowing exactly why he was feeling shy after having the man deep inside of him just seconds ago. Yunho smiled, sensing Mingi’s caution, wrapping his arms around him and tucking him snugly to his chest.

“Mingi, you can touch me, honey. Come here.” He kissed Mingi’s temple, “You were amazing, baby. So perfect for me.”

“Yeah?” Mingi asked softly, feeling a little raw after that experience.

“Yes, angel. Was it okay? I wasn’t too rough?” Yunho asked, his voice pitching up with concern for Mingi’s well-being.

“No, it was wonderful.” Mingi sighed, “Incredible.”

“Good.” Yunho tilted his chin up to kiss him again, “Thank you.”

“For what?” Mingi asked, not understanding.

Yunho tucked Mingi’s head under his chin, stroking his hair, “Just… thank you. For everything. For coming into my life. For letting me into yours.”

“I would do it all over again, Yunho. Every single time.” Mingi confessed, surprising himself with his candor.

“Me, too, Mingi.” Yunho kissed the crown of his head, “In every lifetime.”

They showered together afterwards, taking any last opportunity to touch one another freely, knowing their time together was ticking away faster than either of them would like, or care to admit. They didn’t acknowledge it, not outright. But it was understood by both of them that it was best to not worry about it before it happened.

Back in bed together, limbs tangled, breath soft on one another’s skin as they relaxed into the embrace, Mingi couldn’t help but breach the silent contract they had made.

“Yunho?” He dared to whisper.

"Hm?"

“That story about Lot’s wife and how she was told not to look back as she left Sodom and Gomorrah, lest she be turned into a pillar of salt?”

Yunho nodded, “What about it?”

“I keep thinking about it. I already know I’m going to look, too. I won’t be able to help it, Yunho.” He drew the priest closer to himself, though it was nearly impossible to do so, considering how tightly they were clinging to one another already.

Yunho traced soft, comforting patterns over Mingi’s back, “I know, Mingi. I won’t either.”

Neither of them dared to elaborate further before letting themselves fall asleep. They didn’t need to. They understood each other perfectly as it was.

December 31st

It was a beautiful wedding. Mingi let himself be pulled into the joy of it all that day, concentrating on anything that offered itself up. Anything to take his mind off of the fact that this was the last time he would see Yunho. Hard to do when he was the star of the show during the ceremony. He looked beautiful up there, at the flower adorned pulpit, wearing the same dark green robes as he had worn for Christmas, this time with a slightly different chasuble, this one embroidered with wildflowers in every color. A subtle hint to a rainbow, if Mingi had to guess. Sweet of him, really.

“When I first met Hongjoong and Seonghwa, heard the story of how they met, how their love developed and turned into what it is today, I knew that the tired Bible verses everyone uses for weddings wouldn’t be suitable. ‘Love is patient, love is kind…’ and yes, don’t get me wrong. This couple demonstrates great patience and kindness to one another. But love is also vulnerable. It’s terrifying. It’s not only a feeling, but also a verb. As you fall deeper into it, you start to build a contract with one another. Committing to act on that love again and again, circumstances be damned. Love isn’t something weak people do.” Yunho’s eyes found Mingi’s in the front row pew at that sentence. “Life may get hard, but the love itself has to come easily. And after spending time with the couple here in front of me today, I can say without a shadow of a doubt, that these two are built for it.”

Yeosang looked up at Mingi from his position beside him, seeing the tears roll freely down his face, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze before lacing his fingers into Mingi’s own. Mingi knew he understood. Wooyoung and San are bad at keeping secrets. But he was okay with the fact that his friends knew. Happy for it, even. He would be needing them.

“I’ve seen it in the little things, like how Seonghwa makes sure that Hongjoong has eaten. Or how Hongjoong makes Seonghwa laugh with only a certain look in his eye. But it’s also in the big things. Through life events that easily could have torn them apart. They weathered the storms and came out on the other side stronger. These two here before me today are some of the most brave and courageous people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. I’m beyond happy to declare them husbands.”

Cheers and applause echoed off the stone walls of the church, Mingi’s amongst them.

Mingi stepped outside of the reception, pulling his coat around his shoulders as he leaned against the wall of the building. He hadn’t told his friends he needed some air this time, but that was because he knew someone else would follow him outside.

Yunho’s weight settled against his shoulder as he joined him against the wall.

“You’ve really found your calling, Yunho.” Mingi complimented him.

Yunho chuckled, “Feels more like a curse than a calling at this very moment.”

Mingi turned his head to look at the priest’s stunning profile, committing it to memory. “No, don’t think of it like that. I’m sure we’ve done this before, in a different life. I’m sure we’ll do it again in another one. Hopefully, the next.”

Yunho smiled, turning his head to meet Mingi’s gaze, “Let’s agree now to just both be accountants or something in the next one.”

Mingi laughed despite himself, fighting the urge to sink his claws into Yunho and never let go. Reach in and pluck his own rib out to breathe life into something that never had a chance in the first place. “Deal.” Mingi blinked back tears, “I love you, Yunho. For whatever it’s worth.”

“I-”

“No.” Mingi cut him off, “Let’s just sit with that for a second. I love you.”

The moment felt exactly like midnight in the early winter, on a night where you could tell it was going to snow. Quiet. Crisp. Still. The anticipation building slowly.

“I love you.” Mingi repeated a third time after the moment passed.

Yunho reached up, wiping the tear that had escaped off of Mingi’s cheekbone, “It’ll pass.”

“Are you sure I can’t just shrink myself down and live inside your heart? So we could be together?” Mingi scrambled at the last minute, searching for ways to prolong this inevitable moment.

Yunho’s eyes watered at his words, “You already do live there, Mingi. You have since I first laid eyes on you.” He pushed off the brick wall to stand in front of Mingi, letting his hand fall down to grab Mingi’s, pulling it up to kiss his knuckles once more, “I love you, too.” He dropped Mingi’s hand. “Until our next life, then.” He turned away, seeming to walk in slow motion. Mingi turned, too, walking back towards the door inside.

He turned back.

Yunho had looked back over his shoulder.

They held each other’s gaze for one last moment before turning once more and going their separate ways.

Neither of them turned into pillars of salt.

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez mingi #ateez fanfic #ateez yunho #bittersweet #inspired by fleabag

27 notes · View notes

hongcherry · 1 year ago

Text

pretty please (stay with me) || c.sc | 1

"After being assigned a fashion show for your big senior project, you set off to find volunteers to make it successful. However, when you meet Choi Seungcheol and his unfriendly clique through your volunteers, you realize they’re an unwanted package deal you can’t escape from. Can you handle Seungcheol's obnoxious friends, and can he handle your brash behavior?"

🍒 Pairing: businessMajor!Seungcheol x fashionMajor!Reader (f)

🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Slice of life (!!!), slow burn, drama, fluff, angst; Unrequited enemies to lovers (lol), strangers to lovers, college au

🍒 Warnings: [general tw (won't be repeated in the other chapters)] reader has she/her pronouns (referred to as girl, miss), reader dresses really feminine, reader is not nice, character outfit descriptors, parent/family issues (marital problems), bullying | [chapter tw] “joke” that implies prostitution in a negative way, near car accident (rear end), brief mention of death thru a joke

🍒 WC: 14.8k

🍒 Betas: Huge shout out to my bae, @love-strike, for being with me throughout this whole process, for listening to me whine, for helping me brainstorm majors for OT13, and for being so supportive! tysm 😭 And thank you to @playmetheclassics, @here4kpopfics, @angelwoozi for also beta'ing this series! ty for your time and for your sweet feedback! i really cherish everyone's efforts and brains hehe 🥰💖 i understand this was not an easy task to take on.

🍒 Author's Note: HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML, CHOI SEUNGCHEOL!!!!!!!!! 🎂♥️ I started this fic in September 2022 and contemplated even publishing it multiple times. I think this will be the first fic I've worked on for so long and published. Also, this is the longest fic I've ever written, so that's exciting! It was supposed to be one long one-shot, but I ended up writing way too much for a one-shot LOL. I'm really proud of myself for powering through and not abandoning it, as I've done in the past. I also wrote this all in past tense and spontaneously decided to change it to present 😪 Anyway, please enjoy the start of this couple's journey 😁

also read here: AO3 | Wattpad

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

When people say good students are those who arrive on time, you find it hard not to scoff. Professors should care more about how hard-working one is rather than if they show up on the dot.

Of course, you do try to make it on time, but can you really leave your house looking less than perfect? Absolutely not. Plus, the first fifteen minutes usually consist of professors getting set up for their classes, so you don’t feel like you are missing anything of importance.

Today is no different.

Ten minutes past the official class time, you stroll inside the room. Students are seated where they normally sit, some are on their phones, and others are trying to finish some last-minute homework assignments. It’s a fairly small class, and being in your senior year means everyone knows each other well. Although, most of the people in your class think ill of you and don’t talk to you.

At first, you thought it was a pity, but in the end, you realized you didn’t want to befriend those who would only talk shit behind your back. This is what you figured they did since they were never discreet when they exchanged whispers with their eyes glued to you.

Luckily, you have at least one friend in the class. Quality over quantity, right?

“Right on time,” your friend, Dae, says with a sly smile when she spots you.

You chuckle and slide into the seat next to her. “Class started fifteen minutes ago.”

“It did, but you’re right on time for you,” she explains with a knowing grin.

“Guess I need to be more late from now on,” you tease as you take out your iPad.

The device is a holy grail to you. Majoring in fashion design means all your ideas and creations over the past few years are stored there. When you don’t have it, it’s stored in secret in your house. Maybe that’s a little excessive, but losing it would feel like losing a part of yourself. After all, art creations always include a part of the creator. The device almost feels like it’s an extension of yourself—something too personal for others to peek at.

Dae rolls her eyes. “Or you could come on time. That would be different.”

“Why would I? The first fifteen minutes are worthless,” you huff and open your notes.

“I wouldn’t quite say that,” Dae answers, sliding a piece of paper over. You glance down at it.

Prepare for the annual Senior Fashion Show! Students are to create their own fashion show with a theme of their choice. The show will be toward the end of the semester in the Main Theatre (official times and dates TBD). The project will count for 80% of your grade as this will require you to use all the skills you’ve acquired as a student. When creating your show, be sure to be mindful of the following…

“This was handed out at the beginning of class. Seems like we’re going to have to work with students from outside our department,” Dae comments after she gives you a few minutes to read everything.

So, this is it.

Every senior majoring in fashion design is required to participate. You attended every fashion show hosted during your time as a student here. You were always left in awe, motivated to be a student that would leave behind a name for themselves at the college. You want to inspire the next seniors just as the ones inspired you before.

While this assignment has your body giddy with excitement, there is a part you are dreading.

People skills are not your forte.

Not because you feel awkward talking to new people, but because the conversations always end unpleasantly. Sometimes with back-handed compliments, insults, or them trying to scold you. You hope that won’t be the case while recruiting volunteers.

“So, do we have the class period to start getting things together?” you question once you finish skimming through the instructions again. You’re responsible for a lot more elements than you anticipated. You need lighting, music, a theme, backstage helpers, hair and makeup artists, an advertiser, and most importantly, models. This is when you wish you had a large network. Though, every friend you tried to make didn’t end up lasting. Dae is the only person who has stuck by your side.

“Yup,” she replies. “We’ll be doing mini assignments throughout the semester to help us prepare. I think it’s just a way for Dr. Lim to give us grades so he doesn’t get in trouble.”

“Probably,” you sigh. You are already feeling stressed. Quickly, you scribble down a list of to-do’s in your notes.

“Do you have a theme in mind already?” Dae asks after a moment.

“No, do you?” you wonder.

Dae sits back in her chair, pen resting between her fingers. “I was thinking about something with space? Maybe my main colors will be blue, purple, and black.”

“Oh? Isn’t that what you’ve been doing, though? Don’t you want to try something different?”

Although the question is harmless, the tone of your voice must have rubbed Dae the wrong way. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and then looks at you again.

“Think of it as branding, okay? Why does it bother you so much?” she wonders with a frown. Realizing your mistake, you inhale slowly.

“It doesn’t. I didn’t mean to sound rude. I’m sure your stage will do well,” you reply, forcing a small smile on your lips.

“No ‘sorry’?” Dae asks despite knowing it isn’t part of your favorite vocabulary.

You narrow your eyes at her. “Nope. Just don’t be so defensive next time.”

“You’re insufferable,” Dae answers. “One day, you will be sorry for your behavior.”

Shrugging, you say, “There’s always a chance, but maybe if the world wasn’t so insecure, saying sorry wouldn’t be so wanted.”

Dae exhales disapprovingly at your thought process, displeased with your reply. “Well, for now, maybe try to be more empathetic?”

“I have bigger things to worry about right now. For instance,” you start, a finger at the top of your to-do list, “I’ve got to find someone who can provide me with music.”

Fuck, it’s too loud in here.

The sounds of different instruments being played at once, all emitting different tunes, have a migraine bubbling in your head.

You make a beeline to the professor who is sitting in the corner. She is an older lady, evident by her wrinkles and gray hair. Yet, her features are soft, and the smile she gives you makes you feel at ease.

“Hello, miss, can I assist you?” she asks when you’re in hearing range.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I was hoping you could help me with an assignment?” you wonder and offer her a kind smile, hoping she won’t shoo you away immediately.

“Ah, it’s alright. They’re just practicing for an upcoming assignment today. What is it you need, dear?”

“Who would you consider your best student? Is there a way you can get me in contact with them?”

The professor’s eyes widen slightly at the question. She didn’t expect that. Nevertheless, her gaze rises to scan the classroom.

“There,” she points as discreetly as she can. You follow her finger, which lands on a blonde-haired guy tuning his guitar. “Lee Jihoon. He’s the most talented student I’ve ever had.”

“This semester?” you ask out of curiosity.

The professor shakes her head. “Ever.”

You can’t stop the small disbelieving huff that escapes you. The best student ever? You aren’t sure how long she’s been teaching, but you doubt out of all her time, he is the best. He looks too young.

“Now, now, don’t judge a book by its cover,” she scolds gently. You have to force yourself not to roll your eyes at the phrase. You’ve heard it too many times that its meaning lost its effect on you.

“What makes him your best student?” you question, sight going back to the man who is oblivious to your stare. He sits next to another student who also has a guitar. They seem to be friends from the way they are laughing together.

“His work is versatile and very good. I’m positive he will be the perfect person for your project.” The way she speaks about him makes you believe her. There was no waver to her voice, and her eyes hold a fondness in them you know one can’t replicate if not genuine.

“How long until they have their assignment due?” you wonder, realizing you may have to wait until the class ends before you could talk to him.

The professor smiles. “I’ll let them have five more minutes so you can introduce yourself.”

Internally, you sigh in relief. You’re grateful you don’t have to wait.

“Thank you,” you say before strolling to the man.

As you near, his friend glances up. He’s mid-sentence when he spots you, eyes growing slightly at the sight of you. You’re used to getting looks like that. Your fashion is always dressier than the average college student's. People just aren’t used to it.

“Hi,” the brunette friend says. He has prince-like features, and you almost consider asking him to be one of your models. You give him a small grin out of politeness before turning to the whole reason you came over.

“Lee Jihoon?” you ask.

Jihoon’s mouth parts slightly in surprise. “Uh, y-yeah. Do I know you?”

“No. My name’s Yn. I have a project in a class and need someone to provide music for me. You won’t get paid, but any extra experience is always good, right?” you greet, not wanting to dance around the subject. After all, this is only the first of many on your to-do list.

“What major are you in?” he wonders, brows knitted in confusion.

“Fashion design,” you answer.

Jihoon is silent for a moment. “And how did you find me?”

This guy is more difficult than you wished. You just need him to say yes.

“I asked for the best student, and you were recommended. So, what do you say? Will you help me?”

Jihoon gives you a small smile, but something about it rubs you wrong. “Sorry, my plate is a little full right now—”

“Do you need money? I can give you some afterward.”

You try not to sound desperate. Lee Jihoon is not the only music major—this is obvious by the amount of noise you hear in the background.

But you never settle for less than the best.

You have been looking forward to this project since your college tour here.

“It’s not that,” Jihoon chuckles awkwardly. “I have other assignments I have to practice for, but I’m sure there will be someone else to help you. There’s a lot of talented students her—”

“But they’re not the best,” you interrupt. What else can you offer him that will make him say yes?

“Well, being the best is subjective,” Jihoon counters, voice light so you know he doesn’t mean it rudely.

You open your mouth to bargain with him more, but his friend leans into his ear. The noise from the other instruments behind you makes it hard to hear what they are saying.

Patience is something you rarely have. The longer you stand there waiting, the more annoyed you get.

“Look, you have almost a full semester to get a song done by then. I’m sure you can find some tim—”

“Fine,” Jihoon grumbles as he shoves his friend away. “I’ll do it.”

“Oh,” you pause. You are fully prepared to go down the mental list of how helping you will help him in return. One that will be complete bullshit, but if it gets him to say yes, then so be it. Luckily, you don’t have to.

“Great!” you say.

You aren’t going to give him time to back out, so you quickly retrieve a business card you had made from your purse. It’s easier to exchange contact information, and you never know when you may run into someone important. Being in an artistic field means competition. You always need to have an eye out for something, or someone, that will help you get your name out there.

“Here’s my number. Please contact me before the day ends.”

Jihoon takes the card and examines it. “Got it. What kind of music will you need?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll let you know,” you reply. He nods in response.

“I look forward to hearing your music. I’ll talk to you later then,” you say.

You have half a heart to wish them both luck on their assignment, but part of you is a little petty that Jihoon put you through some trouble. Instead, you give them a wave before turning on your heel.

As you’re leaving, you hear a loud sigh followed by a laugh from behind you.

“Shut up, Shua,” Jihoon groans before the professor calls everyone’s attention.

Music, check. Now, what’s next?

As you make your way down the hallway, you stumble across Dae. She is surrounded by two other male students, none of whom you know. You don’t plan to greet her since she seems busy, but the sound of your heels clicking against the tile catches her attention.

“Yn!” she calls out cheerfully.

You halt in your tracks, turning to see her smiling at you. She gestures for you to come over, so you do.

“Hey,” you say to her.

“How’s your project going?” she asks.

“I got someone to help me with music,” you reply, then glance behind her to see the two guys staring at you. Dae follows your gaze and makes a small “oh!”

“Is that all? Do you have anyone for advertising or graphics?” Dae wonders, her voice seemingly excited.

“I don’t,” you answer hesitantly. Her eagerness has you worried.

“Perfect!” she exclaims, then turns to the others. “This is Yejun and Jeonghan. They’re both advertising majors. Yejun agreed to help me with my project, but Jeonghan,” she pauses to address the man. He has blonde hair that goes past his eyes. His soft features are handsome and almost angelic.

“Jeonghan, would you mind helping my friend with hers? She’s super talented.”

Jeonghan glances at you, but before he can say anything, you ask him, “What are your skills? Do you have some work I could see first?”

Jeonghan looks taken aback. “O-oh, I don’t have a portfolio yet, sorry.”

“Ah, that’s fine,” you say before looking at Dae. “Thanks for trying to help me, but I’ll find someone else.”

Dae’s eyes narrow at you. “Come on, Yn. Jeonghan is really good!”

“Didn’t you just meet him?” you question and try to stop the scoff that threatens to escape.

“Well, yes, but Yejun has been my friend for a while, and I’ve seen his work. Yejun and Jeonghan have worked together as well, and their creations are unique!”

You inhale deeply, eyes roaming from your friend to Jeonghan. He offers you a smile.

“What your friend said,” Jeonghan replies with a small chuckle.

“Trust me on this,” Dae says. “Jeonghan won’t disappoint you.”

You don’t feel at ease agreeing to someone blindly. Dae’s definition of “really good” could be different from yours. Although her work is good, you feel your standards are way above hers. You had planned to ask for the best student for each assigned task, so having been offered a random helper with no proof of their credentials is unnerving.

Granted, you haven’t heard Jihoon’s work, but you were sold on the way the professor spoke about him. Dae, on the other hand, is not a professor and could be biased as Yejun is her friend. Though, you still have a lot more positions to fill, and you need to do so soon.

Sighing, “Fine. You can work with me.”

From the way you word your sentence, it’s almost as if Jeonghan is supposed to jump up and down with glee. He doesn’t.

You grab another business card from your purse and hand it to Jeonghan. He takes it slowly.

“Just so you know, I have the right to replace you with someone else if I see your work isn’t fit,” you warn as Jeonghan slips the card into his pocket.

His eyes lock on yours. “That won’t be necessary,” he answers, not bothered by your comment.

“Oh?” you wonder and quirk an eyebrow up.

“Hm. You also need graphics, right? I have a person for that as well,” Jeonghan says.

“I haven’t seen their work yet—”

“You’re not very trusting, huh?” Jeonghan observes with a laugh. You shift your weight on one hip, not liking the way he is trying to tell you about your personality when he doesn't know you.

“I just know what I want, and I won’t settle,” you answer sharply.

Dae huffs next to you and gives you a gentle shove, indicating you to ease up. That isn’t going to happen.

Jeonghan doesn’t reply and instead takes out his phone. His fingers dance around the screen for a minute before he turns the device for you to see. On the screen is an Instagram account with various posts of different art and graphic pieces. Your eyes drift to the username. by_xuminghao_o. His art is impressive and definitely not an amateur like you half expected.

“So, about not settling,” Jeonghan trails off, a hint of a cocky smirk on his lips.

“I expect you both to contact me before the day ends,” is all you respond with.

Jeonghan pockets his phone and nods. He seems content with your answer even though you don’t confess the art meets your standards.

“All good then?” Dae asks, glancing between you two.

“We’re good,” Jeonghan replies and gives you another smile of his—one you are starting to hate seeing. There is just something about it that seems like he knows more things than you in a cocky, condescending way.

Yejun glances at his watch and then nudges Jeonghan.

“Thanks, ladies, but we have a class to attend. Nice to meet you, Yn,” Yejun says.

You hum in response while turning away from them. Dae says her goodbyes, watching as they leave before putting her focus on you.

“Do you have to be so picky?” she sighs.

“As I said, I know what I want. I’ve waited to do this project for years. It has to be perfect,” you explain and pull out your iPad. You check off music and advertising from your to-do list. Graphics aren’t listed, but you figure it will be a nice addition.

“I understand, but—”

“Just focus on your project, and I’ll focus on mine, okay?” you interrupt. You don’t feel like hearing her lecture you for a second time today.

“Alright,” Dae answers. “I’ll see you around,” she says, walking away before you can say anything else.

With her back turned, you roll your eyes at her attitude. It has your mood lowering, and you conclude you’re done with human interaction for now. You carefully place your iPad back in your bag, then make a beeline to the parking lot, ready to go home to figure out a theme for your show.

Home is somewhere you don’t enjoy being.

It always has this melancholy cloud looming over you. You can never seem to get rid of it completely. Even on the good days, it lingers in the corner of the room, always threatening to float above you. You doubt it will ever dissipate.

Your back is against the headboard of your bed, your iPad resting against your legs that are pulled to your chest. The music playing is too low for your liking, but you know if it’s any louder, your father will scold you for the high volume. Sometimes you will raise it just to get him to talk to you. Though today is not one of those days. You want to be left alone for once, which isn't usually too hard to do unless your sister needs attention. Like now.

“Today is the last day. Pleaseeee, Yn!” your sister whines at the foot of your bed. Her small body is bouncing with desperation and eagerness.

Reluctantly, you flicker your gaze up at her. The slight scowl on your face doesn’t seem to faze her… Probably because she’s seen it so much.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” you exasperate, gesturing to your iPad.

Seoah frowns. “When are you not? Come on! It’ll take, like, ten minutes. I’ve been looking forward to getting a Fallin’ Flower frap for months! You know it’s a seasonal drink.”

“Didn’t Dad say you couldn’t have any more sweets?” you say and peer down at your iPad again. You’re in the middle of brainstorming themes for your show. There are various words within bubbles, each connected with a line.

“I’ll just get a small,” she explains. When you don’t move, she walks around the bed to stand next to you. Her voice becomes softer, sadder. “You said you would take me. Dad can’t.”

“That was before I got assigned this project. It’s my—”

“Senior project that you’ve been looking forward to since your freshman year, yeah, I got it,” she responds, reciting what you’ve told her before.

You finally look at her once more. “I’ll take you for the next seasonal drinks, okay? They’re probably better anyway.”

“But I really want a Fallin’ Flower,” Seoah pouts.

“Next year,” you offer and return your attention to your homework.

“Yn—”

“Next year,” you repeat firmly without looking up.

Seoah pauses in her begging. You think she’s going to continue, but you hear the soft padding of her feet as she moves.

“Oh, Seoah?” you call out, glancing up.

She pauses by your door and looks up with some hope in her eyes.

“Don’t forget to shut the door all the way.”

“Right,” she mutters slowly, then leaves the room. You wait until you hear the door click close prior to getting back to work.

You sit on your bed the remainder of the day, only getting up to cook dinner for your father and sister. Your eyes feel strained and your body weak, but the sooner you pick a theme, the sooner you can get started.

It’s days like these when your body is mentally and physically exhausted, that you miss your mom. You try not to think too much about her as it only makes the gloomy cloud above your head darker.

Is she happier? Surely, she is. She is living her dream as a traveling journalist. Sometimes you will see her adventures if you peep at her social media. It’s self-torture to do so, but curiosity gets the best of you. You hope one day you’ll have the willpower to block all her accounts.

At this point, you’re having the same conversation you have with yourself once a month. It never ends the way you want.

Inhaling deeply, you finish plating all the food before calling your family for dinner. While your father eats in his office, needing to continue his work, you and your sister eat in silence in the dining room.

Maybe one day things will change, but for now, you’ll have to settle with this.

You are about to knock on the door a second time when no one answers it. You have allotted only an hour for this meeting, so the longer you wait outside, the more you grow impatient. You have set mini-deadlines throughout the semester to ensure you will complete this assignment in a timely manner. You just hope your recruitees aren't going to slow you down.

Suddenly, the door is yanked open. Jeonghan stands on the other side, hair a little damp and a few wet spots on his shirt.

“Sorry about that,” he says hastily. “I thought I could shower quicker.”

“I told you eleven o’clock,” you scold. Jeonghan simply smiles.

“Never hurts to give people some wiggle room. Plus, aren’t you the early one?” Jeonghan leans back to view something. He looks at you after a few seconds. “It’s only three minutes past.”

“Early is on time,” you say as if that is an obvious life choice. Although you’re never really on time for classes, you reason that to be because the first fifteen minutes are a waste of time. This, on the other hand, is not. “Invite me in?”

Jeonghan moves aside and lets you enter. His apartment is tidy for the most part. It seems as if he had started to clean up but gave up toward the end.

“Where’s Minghao?” you wonder when you saw you were the only one here. He’s supposed to be here with Jeonghan, so you can all go over the advertising designs.

“He called and said he hit some traffic. Have a seat anywhere; I’m going to grab my laptop,” he instructs before jogging to another room. Shaking your head in disappointment, you glance around again.

Spotting his couch, you walk over and make yourself comfortable. You take out your iPad and open what you have so far—color ideas, font ideas, and a few mock-up fashion designs. It has been two weeks since you last saw Jeonghan. The majority of your tasks have already been assigned to people, but you still have to find a few more models.

“Alright, so, what’s the theme?” Jeonghan asks when he comes back. He sits down next to you, causing you to bounce slightly from his weight.

You angle your screen, so he can see it easier. “I decided on the four elements—water, ice, air, and earth. The title right now is Pinwheel.”

“This gives us multiple color options,” Jeonghan examines. “Maybe we could have five designs. One for each element and then one with all of them? That would give you a variety of exposure and make the audience feel they’re not looking at the same promo material every time.”

You sit still as you ponder his suggestion. “You don’t think people will get confused seeing different designs?”

“We can make it all tie in some way. You have your own logo, as I saw on your card. We can use that and the same fonts.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. “That sounds—”

A knock on the door stops you.

“Ah, that must be Minghao. Do you mind getting that? I’m going to get my notepad, so I can try to sketch some layouts.”

You nod, setting your iPad down next to his laptop, then walking to the entrance.

“You’re late,” you groan while you pull open the door.

“Oh? Am I?” the person says with a little playful smile on his lips.

Although you’ve never met Minghao, you have seen pictures of him on his Instagram. You expected to see a head of blue hair, but you are greeted with black. Instead of a narrow face, his is slightly wider. He wears an oversized white shirt, jeans, and a colorful necklace. He looks like every other college student. Sure, he’s more handsome than the average, but not by much. Behind him are two women and one man.

“Can I help you?” you exhale a disheartened sigh when you conclude it isn’t Minghao. Meaning, he’s even later than you wished for.

The guy chuckles. “I doubt it, but Jeonghan can. Is he here?”

His voice is slightly deep. You may have found him soothing to listen to if it wasn't for his irksome words.

“He’s busy right now. You can come back in an hour, though,” you instruct and start to close the door. You don’t need any distractions.

The man sticks his foot out to stop you, causing you to exhale annoyed when you can’t get rid of him. You open the door slightly again.

“Just tell him I’m here,” he says, his teasing tone not so visible anymore but still light enough to not sound too rude.

“And who are you?” you question apathetically.

“Jesus,” someone hisses behind him before shouting, “Jeonghan, come here!”

Your eyes gaze past the man to see a woman with short-length dark hair. She eyes you haughtily, hand on the man’s forearm as if she were to push him away. Though she never does. She takes in your attire, and you once again get a look of judgment at your choice of dress. Your white dress paired with a same-colored, opened button down and beaded chain around your hips is apparently not her style.

“What’s going on?” Jeonghan asks behind you. Reluctantly, you move aside so he can see. “Oh, Seungcheol! Right. One second. Come on in. I’ll get those papers for you.”

“Actually, do they need to come in? They’re not staying long,” you say quickly before any of them can move.

“Relax, princess, he’s just being friendly. You know, like when someone is kind, thoughtful, and considerate?” the girl questions as if you’re dumb and makes her way inside despite you standing close to the door. It forces you to move over.

Her friends follow along. Three of them stand in the living room, while the second guy sits at the kitchen bar before pulling out his phone. You watch them with a fire inside your chest. Not only are Jeonghan and Minghao late, you now have to deal with this obstacle.

Just as you’re shutting the door, you see a glimpse of blue down the hall. Finally.

“You’re late,” you repeat, but to the correct person this time.

“I know, I’m sorry! Oh, are they helping too?” Minghao says, pausing at the entry when he sees the group of people inside.

“No. Get in,” you huff and point a finger in the apartment. Minghao enters without a fight.

“Hao!” the second girl exclaims with a smile.

Great. Do they all know each other?

“Hi, Hana,” Minghao greets with a gentle grin.

“What are you doing here?” Hana wonders.

“I’m helping Yn with her project,” he answers and gestures to you while you shut the door.

Hana looks your way, and you can see the distaste in her expression; however, she doesn’t say anything.

Jeonghan walks out of his room with a folder in his hand. “I hope this is what you need,” he tells the first man—Seungcheol, you presume.

Seungcheol smiles and takes it from him. He flips open the folder, doing a quick glance through the papers inside.

“Looks great,” he says. “Thanks for getting these for me.”

“Of course,” Jeonghan replies.

“Hannie, do you want to come to Shining Diamond with us this weekend?” the first girl asks, tilting her head in a way that appears as if she’s begging for a yes.

“Ah, this weekend?” he hesitates. “I have a test on Monday I was going to study for.”

“A few hours won’t hurt you,” she replies.

“Alright, Hajun, but only for an hour or so,” Jeonghan says with a not-so-stern voice.

“Great! Minghao, do you want to come, too?” Hajun asks.

Minghao shrugs. “I’ve got nothing else, so sure.”

Hajun grins widely. Her eyes go past Minghao to see you standing in the corner, your arms crossed and eyes staring daggers at everyone.

She doesn’t say anything, but her look tells you you aren’t invited. As if you are silently begging to join. The thought makes you scoff quietly.

“Cool. You all scheduled your weekends,” you start and walk back to the couch. You turn briefly to Seungcheol, who is eyeing you already. “And you got your things. Can we please continue?”

Your gaze shifts to Jeonghan at your question. He offers you an apologetic look before nodding.

“I’ll see you all this weekend. You can text me the time,” he says while walking to the door.

“We can decide that now,” Hana suggests.

“Or over text like Jeonghan said,” you interject. She narrows her eyes at you.

“Be patient. It’ll only take a few minutes,” she replies.

A few minutes, my ass.

“I’d rather you use those minutes to walk out the door.” You give her a faux smile.

“Have some respect,” Hajun scolds.

You laugh though you don’t find any of this humorous. “What a hypocrite. How about you respect people’s times?”

“I did tell Yn I’d help her,” Jeonghan cuts in sheepishly and opens the door to hint at them to leave. “I’ll text you all later, or you guys can come back in a bit.”

Seungcheol’s gaze lingers on yours as he walks toward the door. Your eyes catch on his as he makes his way into your line of sight. His stare has an unsettling feeling form in your stomach, and you contemplate asking what his problem is. Before you can, he turns to Jeonghan.

“Thanks again,” he says as he lifts the folder.

“No problem. Talk to you later,” Jeonghan replies.

All his friends have filed out except for the one male who hasn’t said a word. He glances at you. You expect to receive another jab about who knows what. Instead, he gestures at your body.

“Nice chains,” he compliments with a smile.

Your eyes widen slightly as you glance down briefly at your outfit. That was certainly unexpected. “Uh, thanks.”

“Come on, Vernon!” Hana yells from the doorway. Vernon gives you a thumbs up, which is uncanny given the situation, then follows his friends out the door.

Once they leave, you narrow your gaze at Jeonghan and Minghao. They’re quick to apologize again and start asking questions about your project before you can lecture them. Lucky for them, your hour is almost up, so there isn't enough time to do that anyway.

Weeks go by with you working nonstop on your project. Annoyingly, you also realize that the majority of the people you recruited to help all know each other. It usually isn’t something to be irritated by, but each time they run into each other, they usually end up making small talk that you have to break up. They can do that on their time, not yours. Even more frustrating is that this so-called Seungcheol and his groupies know them all as well. Their reactions to seeing you are always the same—ones of displeasure. Though the feeling is mutual.

You learn they are all business majors, except for Vernon. Well, he was a business major, but he plans to switch to something else. You can’t blame him. If all the business majors act revolting, you would leave that department as well.

Seungcheol… He isn’t as bad.

You have only ever hung out with him by himself for less than five minutes. Those conversations spur when you’re both left alone after one of your “mutual friends,” because none of these people are your actual friends, abandon you both. The conversations are awkward and never hold any weight. He doesn’t throw snide remarks at you, but his presence still makes you uneasy with the possibility. You’re normally the first to leave because of that. Maybe if he didn’t have those obnoxious friends, you could tolerate him more. You can’t help but associate him with them though. You simply want to get away from them, even if that includes him. Not that you are craving his presence anyway. You barely know him and aren’t interested in changing that.

“Those are looking awesome so far!” Dae exclaims when she peers over your shoulder to see your sketches.

You smile at her and set your iPad down on the table. The weather outside is perfect, given the cool breezes in the heat. It eases your mind, and you feel more creative being in a new environment.

“Thanks, how are yours coming along?” you question and wait for her to angle her own iPad to you. On the screen are various designs, each with a hint of purple or blue.

“Those are neat,” you compliment.

“Yeah?” she says and beams at you. “What about this one? I think the shoulder looks a little weird.”

You reach over, using two fingers to zoom in on the screen to examine it.

“Maybe just lower this,” you gesture on the screen, careful as to not move the screen on accident. “You could take this part out too and make it asymmetrical.”

Dae hums, lips pursed in thought. “I’ll try it. I guess I won’t really know until it’s on someone.”

You nod in agreement before focusing on your designs again. After a while, Dae excuses herself from your homework session. She had planned to meet with one of her helpers. You bid her a quick goodbye.

Ten minutes pass when you see someone standing in front of your table, blocking your sunlight. Your eyes rise to see who it is.

“Hi,” Seungcheol greets.

You straighten your posture upon seeing him. He wears a basic navy suit that fits him well. To your surprise, it actually looks decent on him. Your eyes dart around him to see if any of his friends came.

“Just me this time,” he answers the question in your head.

“What is it you need?” you ask blankly.

“Must I need something?” he retorts.

You suppress the eye roll you want to give him. “Well, I’m sure you didn’t come here to tell me about your day.”

“I can if you want,” he responds, then to your utter dread, he sits down across from you. From the position he is sitting at, the breeze is blowing his hair forward and into his face. He raises a hand to push it back, but it’s no use.

“You can spare me. Tell me what you want and go,” you instruct. This is the first time he has approached you—and alone, for that matter. You don’t want to make it a regular thing.

“Always straight to the point,” he chuckles.

“I just don’t like my time being wasted,” you explain.

“So, I’m wasting your time now?” His eyebrow quirks up.

“Should I spell it out for you?” you scoff. It should be obvious that you don’t feel like talking to him.

“You can try, but do you know how to spell it?” he stares at you through the hair on his face. Even though you can’t see him clearly, you can tell he has a challenging gleam in his eyes.

“At this point, I think you just came to bother me,” you sulk.

He smirks at you. “I didn’t, but it is a little fun to see your feathers ruffled.”

“They’re perfectly content being unruffled.”

Seungcheol chuckles at your response. He pushes his hair back, but this time he rests his hand against his head, keeping his hair in place. His elbow is propped on the table while his other arm lays flat on the surface.

All the times you have seen him, his hair has covered part of his forehead. Now, it’s all exposed, and you feel you can see him. Maybe it’s because he’s donning a suit for once, but he looks almost… handsome like this—dressed formally with a small glint in his eyes and his lips spread in a gentle smile.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he replies. “I think you need to have more fun.”

Well, he was handsome until he opened his mouth.

“I don’t need a stranger telling me how to live my life,” you say.

“A stranger? I would think we’re at least acquaintances,” he frowns.

“You only see me because your friends are helping me. Speaking of, is that why you’re here? Does it have anything to do with one of them?”

Seungcheol bites his bottom lip, and you can’t stop your eyes from lowering to his mouth.

“Maybe,” he answers slowly. Your eyes snap back to his when he speaks. He gives you a knowing smile that has you shifting in your seat. You had only looked at his lips because he brought attention to them. Nothing more.

“Are we playing twenty questions?” you groan, finally unleashing the eye roll you have been trying not to do.

“We can,” Seungcheol says with a shrug. “You asked three already—more if you start from the time I sat down.”

Exhaling a deep breath, you put your forehead on the hand that’s propped on the table. The conversation is slowly draining your energy. The need to be alone becomes stronger with each second.

“Seungcheol,” you warn. You are not about to play a guessing game with this man. “Please.”

“Oh, so that word is in your vocabulary.”

“Yes. Would you like me to use it in a sentence?” you question, pitch raised as if you’re talking to a toddler. You lift your head to glare at him.

“Sure,” he smirks and leans forward. He still holds his hair back and this time, you can really see the way he is goading you.

“Please fuck off,” you grin widely. Your head tilts to the side as you push your arms together to act overly cute.

“Please make me,” he counters. The smirk he wears is still plastered on his lips.

“If we weren’t in public, I would,” you say, voice returning to normal as you relax your body—the cute act over.

“Oh? How?” he chuckles. From the way he looks at you, you know his mind has gone elsewhere.

You push at the arm that is stretched across the table. “Because I would rather not get caught for murder, you pervert.”

Seungcheol laughs and sits back, letting his hair fall back into his eyes. It’s the first time you notice he has dimples. Your first impression is that they are cute, but you quickly recall who they belonged to and shove that thought from your mind.

“Seokmin wanted to let you know he lost your card,” he finally discloses. “Asked if you could give him another.”

“If he lost a simple card, is he really reliable?” you sigh as you grab another from your purse.

“The good news is those stage lights are so big, he won’t be able to lose those,” he says, taking the card from your hand.

“Thankfully,” you mutter. “I hope you’re better than Seokmin at not losing things.”

“I’ll get this to him, don’t worry,” he replies and puts the card in his suit jacket. You want to ask why he is wearing that, but that will mean you will prolong this conversation. Fortunately for you, he starts to stand up before you succumb to the temptation.

“Thanks for the talk,” he says as if you had a choice. “I’ll see you around.”

You would have doubted that, but you know that won’t be true.

The second time Seungcheol approaches you by himself is a few days later when he catches you exiting a building he is approaching.

“Don’t tell me someone else lost my card as well,” you say after he calls your name. You readjust your bag on your shoulder as you wait for his response.

“About that,” he starts sheepishly.

You put your weight on one hip and cross your arms, and set your mouth in a straight line. You wait for him to tell you who is the perpetrator.

“I may have left your card in my suit jacket when I washed it.”

Well, that explains why you haven’t received a message from Seokmin yet.

“Seriously, Seungcheol?” you exasperate.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” he says, lips pouting and eyebrows angled.

Shaking your head, you retrieve another card. You make a mental note to restock later as you are running out.

Seungcheol reaches out to grab it from you, but you quickly pull back.

“Put this in your bag,” you instruct.

You slowly give him the card and watch as he slings his bag around to his front. He makes a show of unzipping one of the front pockets and sliding it inside.

“Done,” he says, acting like he should be rewarded for doing as he was told.

“Good. Is that all?” you wonder. You’ve just finished your last class of the day, and all you want to do is climb into bed.

“Yes.”

Seeing no need to continue the conversation, you start walking in the direction of the parking lot.

“Great. Bye, Seungcheol,” you say over your shoulder.

“Hey, wait,” he says quickly, walking briskly to be by your side. “We’re going in the same direction.”

You peer up at him momentarily. “That doesn’t mean we have to walk together.”

“You said before we’re strangers. This would help us not be that anymore,” he shrugs casually.

“I never said I wanted that,” you reply flatly.

“It might benefit us since we’ll have to see each other a lot.”

“Is that so?” you sigh sadly.

Seungcheol smiles at you before shoving his hands in his pockets. “You did ask my friends to help you.”

“Well, if I knew you were a package deal, I wouldn’t have.”

“Come on. I’m not that bad.”

Sighing, you slow your steps to look at him better. He stops next to you, awaiting your response. His gaze is hopeful, but you’re not sure why.

“I’ll agree if you leave me alone,” you finally say.

Seungcheol’s lips dip in a frown. “I’ll get you to admit it one day.”

He starts to walk again before you can reply. Now is your chance to let him get a few feet from you. You have the opportunity to finally end this conversation you’ve been dreading. Though, for some strange reason, your feet quickly move on their own accord.

Seungcheol’s steps are small, and you catch up with him easily. Neither of you says a word, but you can see a hint of a smile on his lips.

Instead of parting ways once you reach the parking lot, he follows you to your car. Something about it being dangerous for you to walk to it alone, even though it’s light out.

“Yn?” he says to catch your attention when you open your door. You turn and give a small “hm?” in response.

“My friends and I plan to go to this poetry lounge in two weeks. Would you want to come?” he asks. You aren’t sure why he appears to be anxious.

The shock you feel must be evident on your face because Seungcheol’s apprehensive expression relaxes into a gentle smile.

“Business friends or our ‘mutual ones’?” The idea doesn't sound so bad if you are hanging out with the people who are helping you. Although you have your issues with them, they aren’t that bad to be around if you’re being honest.

“Business.”

That’s not what you want to hear.

“Do your friends know you’re asking me this?”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “No, but I don’t need their permission. What do you say?”

You can’t recall being invited to a night out with someone other than Dae. If you were to go out without Dae, it would be with your family or for a class assignment. To be invited to a place by Seungcheol, out of all people, catches you off guard.

Despite having an opportunity for a different change of pace, you answer, “No.”

“No?” he asks, perplexed.

“Your friends don’t like me, Seungcheol,” you explain matter-of-factly through a sigh, leaning against your open door.

“They just like to tease you. I’ll talk to them before,” he explains.

Tease is a funny way to describe it, you think.

“I don’t need you fighting my battles,” you answer, referring to the latter part of his reply.

“Still. I want you to enjoy yourself. You’ve probably been glued to that project of yours. Step away for a bit,” he reasons.

He isn’t wrong. Your focus has solely been on the project. Of course, you have other classes, but you aren’t putting as much effort into them as you are this one.

“I’ll pick you up and pay for any expenses,” he offers. The more he talks, the more taken aback you are. You figured he’d drop the offer once you rejected him. From every interaction you’ve had with these “friends,” it never ends well. You doubt this will be any different. Regardless, something in you feels a little… honored he is so adamant about getting you to come.

Thus, hesitantly, “Fine.”

Seungcheol’s face breaks out in a grin. “Okay. I can give you my number, so you can text me your address.”

He starts to pull out his phone, but you stop him.

“No need,” you say. At Seungcheol’s confused expression, you continued with a faint smile, “You have my card.”

His mouth opens briefly in realization before the corners are pulled up.

“One step ahead, I see,” he teases, pulling it out to inspect it as if confirming your number is there. You suppose he may think you’re lying to get out of going.

“I’ll text you then,” he concludes and places the card back.

“Alright,” you say, shifting your weight. You aren’t sure if he wants to say anything else. Why are you giving him the time to? You have already given him enough of it.

Sensing your readiness to leave, he waves as he slowly takes steps backward. “Drive safely, Yn.”

“You too, Seungcheol.”

You climb into your car’s seat, turn on the engine, and watch as he makes his way through the maze of cars until he is out of sight.

That Friday comes sooner than you would’ve liked.

Throughout the times you had met with your “friends,” you had bumped into Seungcheol one-third of the time. Sometimes, you were left alone with him again. Each interaction you had with him became easier the more you talked to him.

Dare you to admit; his presence wasn’t actually teeth-gritting anymore? At least when he was alone, you didn’t have to deal with his business friends. Despite him not usually laughing at their jokes, he never really stepped in to stop them teasing you at first. Maybe only a few times when he felt things got too heated. He wasn’t your best friend, but part of you did hope he would’ve said something.

Each time he didn’t, you felt your disappointment rise. He apologized on their behalf constantly, but his apology meant nothing when they kept insulting you. However, lately, he has been stepping in sooner. Although you didn’t want him fighting your battles initially, some things you couldn’t do alone. One thing you and his business friends had in common was that no one really knew where the sudden change of attitude came from. For once, you didn’t complain, though.

You’re tempted to cancel this outing, but talking to Seungcheol a few days ago made you realize he was a little more excited than he was letting on. The reason is unknown to you—maybe he really likes poetry lounges—but you’d feel slightly guilty if you ditch last minute.

It’s not like you haven’t been out on a Friday night with people, yet your heart is beating rapidly in your chest. You have changed about six times, exchanging your accessories with each outfit. Normally, you would dress up more, but these aren’t your friends you’re about to hang out with. They are Seungcheol’s—business majors who think skirts more than two inches above the knees mean you’re a slut. Though, you can’t figure out why that matters. You never dress with the thoughts of others. If you want to wear something that day, even if it’s “over-the-top” for some, you wear it. So, why are you in such a fashion dilemma now?

In the end, you settle for a simple, spaghetti-strapped red dress that is slightly bunched on the sides with strings that are tied in bows. You pair it with a small, heart-shaped purse and white heels. There isn’t any bling in your outfit, which is unusual for you. The accessories you wear are minimal and small. They are a matching cherry set you were gifted by your mother on your 12th birthday. Although it’s been years since you received them, they’re still wearable and delicate enough not to call much attention—unlike some of your other accessories.

You reach for a white fur jacket only to stop when your fingers graze it. Your eyes travel to yourself in the mirror as you debate on wearing it. The jacket will be too much, you conclude.

The buzzing of your phone catches your attention. It’s Seungcheol telling you he’s five minutes away. After stuffing your phone in your purse, you quickly apply red lipstick and toss it in your purse for later touch-ups.

When your phone buzzes again, you hurry to your front door. Your family is home, and you don’t want Seungcheol to meet them. Life at home isn’t ideal, and the only person who has a hint of what is going on is Dae. You doubt Seungcheol will find that out from one quick meeting, but you don’t want to risk it.

You throw your door open, ready to meet him at his car. Instead, he stands in front of you with a hand raised. He takes a step back in surprise. His eyes glide down your body quickly, but you’re too concerned about your family coming to notice.

“Oh, hey,” he greets. “I was just about to knock.”

Before any of your family can intervene, you close the door and start your way down the porch steps. Seungcheol follows you.

“You didn’t have to. I can make my way to your car by myself,” you answer. Although you’ve never been in his car before, you’ve seen it around. Plus, it’s the only unknown vehicle near your home.

You stand next to the passenger door and wait for him to unlock it, arms wrapped around your body when the chilly weather hits you.

“You sure you don’t want a jacket?” he asks when he notices you didn’t bring one.

“It didn’t go with my outfit,” you explain. It’s a lie. The coat did go with your fit, but you didn’t feel like disclosing the fashion crisis you had gone through.

Seungcheol chuckles. “So, you’re going to freeze instead?”

“It’s not that cold,” you lie again.

“It’ll get colder later, though,” he explains and comes closer to you. You step aside when he is a few inches from you. You press your arms tighter around you, eyes averting from his because of his close proximity. The small distance has you wanting to squirm away, but your feet can’t move. He peers at you with a small smile while he reaches behind you.

“My lady,” he murmurs when he pulls the door open and gestures for you to get inside.

“How chivalrous,” you reply after you force your nervousness away. You carefully slide inside his car, situating yourself comfortably in the seat.

Seungcheol waits to ensure you have all your limbs inside before shutting the door. As he walks around to the other side, your eyes scan his car. The seats are leather, and the interior has higher tech than you thought it would. It is a nice car—not overly luxurious, but enough to show it isn’t cheap. It makes you wonder how much it costs.

“You warm enough?” Seungcheol questions after he gets in and buckles.

“Yeah,” you reply quietly, hands resting awkwardly in your lap. The heat from the vents aids in your goosebumps disappearing.

Your mind is already wondering what to expect tonight. You know his friends aren’t fond of you. At least most of them. That guy, Vernon, seems nice enough. He is the quiet one in the group; however, you did notice he has his own quirks that make him unique. You foresee yourself hanging out with him most tonight. But even then, you don’t feel too great about going.

The longer you sit in Seungcheol’s car, the more you regret agreeing to this.

He stares at you for a moment; brows knitted together slightly. You feel uncanny acting so meek, and Seungcheol can't help but notice.

Silence consumes the small area for a few seconds until Seungcheol says, “Seatbelt.”

You look at him confused, then realize he is talking to you. Of course he is, who else?

“Right,” you mumble, quickly pulling the belt over your body.

“You don’t have to come, you know?” he says with one hand on the steering wheel while the other is on the gear stick.

You sigh and gesture to the road ahead. “Let’s just get going. I’ve got stuff to do after.”

It isn’t completely a lie. You still have to work on bringing your designs to life for the show, but it isn’t like you are behind schedule that you need to do that tonight. You just know you might actually back out if you ponder on leaving more.

Seungcheol bites his bottom lip, averting his focus to the road. He doesn’t reply and obliges to your request by shifting the car into drive.

During the ride, your gaze drifts to Seungcheol. He is relaxed in his seat. One arm stretches to hold the wheel while his other rests on his thigh. One which is clad in a pair of light-washed jeans with a black belt between the jean loops. He wears a white shirt tucked in and a black jacket.

You peer forward slightly to read what his shirt says. Propriety of Balenciaga? The Balenciaga? You don’t think he’s wealthy enough to afford one of those shirts. Perhaps it was a gift or a knock-off brand? Maybe he thrifted it… Though, Seungcheol doesn’t seem like the thrifting type.

“Do you need this?” he asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. He’s holding his jacket open to show you what he means. You must’ve been staring too much.

“No, I’m okay,” you say and turn your attention away quickly. “I just didn’t realize you wore glasses.”

Although the comment is true, you need something to say before he questions why you truly are staring at him. You had noticed the spectacles earlier but didn’t feel like mentioning them.

Seungcheol laughs lightly, “Actually, I don’t. I just thought I’d try to improve my fashion. What do you say, did it work?”

He glances at you after stopping at a traffic light; his mouth quirks up in a teasing smile. You turn toward him and scan his face quickly. They do look good on him, but you aren’t going to tell him that.

“They certainly did something, but whether that effect is good or bad is a secret,” you reply, looking away again.

“I’ll take that as you not wanting to admit they look nice on me,” Seungcheol says and continues driving at the green light.

“I think they’d look better on someone else,” you answer. Though, you don’t believe what you said. Something about the glasses on him has you wanting to stare at him more. They fit his face well and make him appear more attractive. You don’t want to sit on that thought for much longer.

“Is that so? Here,” he says, pulling them off his face. The glasses come into your view, and you stare at him, puzzled.

When you don’t take them, he adds, “They won’t bite.”

You roll your eyes at his comment and finally grab them from his grasp. You pull down his sun visor to look at yourself. After sliding on the spectacles, you turn your head from side to side to see the different angles.

“I think I was right. They do look better on someone else,” you tease and face him as you shut the visor. Seungcheol turns to you at your reply.

His eyes wander across your face, a hint of a smile appearing on his lips.

“Maybe I’ll have to agree with you this one time,” he says. His stare lingers on yours so much that it has you shifting in your seat. When you avert your gaze, your eyes widen.

“Cheol!” you shout as he was about to rear-end another car. Instinctively, he shoots an arm out across your chest that has your back pressing firmly against the seat. The sudden act causes you to reach up and grab onto his arm tightly.

The car screeches as it comes to a sudden halt. Luckily in time to not hit the other car.

You both sit still, breathing intensified at the near accident. After a few seconds, Seungcheol retracts his arm. It’s then you realize you’re still holding onto him. Your eyes dart to his forearm and frown when you see small crescent shapes indented in his skin.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly.

Seungcheol’s focus is ahead of him but glances at you in confusion at your apology. “What?”

You quickly gesture to his forearm. When he sees the marks, he rubs a hand over them absentmindedly. “It’s fine. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” you reply, heart rate slowing down to normal.

“I’m alright. Sorry. I guess I shouldn’t make you play dress up in the car.”

“No, it was my fault.”

Seungcheol eases on the gas pedal when the light turns green, keeping a safe distance from the car in front. He remains quiet for a while to ensure you are both safe.

“Are you sure you’re okay? First, you apologize, and now something is your fault?” he jokes.

You don’t remember what you said a few minutes ago, so it takes a while for you to comprehend what he is saying. “Shut up,” is all you can respond with in the end.

Seungcheol laughs but doesn’t pester you about it any longer.

“Oh, you can take these back,” you say and tug off the reason for almost hitting another car.

“Thanks,” he mumbles as he slides the glasses back on his face.

You nestle yourself back in the seat again and glance out the window. As the buildings pass, it dawns on you that you’ve never called him Cheol. The thought of using a nickname for him has your body tingle with an unknown feeling. It’s strange. You aren’t the first to call him that, but you aren’t that close to him to start using nicknames. Annoyingly, you spend the remainder of the car ride fretting about how he felt toward you shortening his name.

Did he even notice? If he did, did he like it? Had you crossed a line?

When he parks, you become acutely aware of everyone’s attire. Many wear jeans or tights with a plain shirt and jacket. A few have on skirts or dresses, but they are more t-shirt dresses or plain skater skirts, if anything. Plus, they are accompanied by tights because of the weather. No one has as much skin showing as you do.

The sinking feeling of not belonging consumes you. You can’t remember the last time you felt this way, and that alone has you questioning yourself even more.

“I’m too dressed for this, aren’t I?” you think out loud.

Seungcheol turns off the car, eyes raking your body again. Though this time, you’re aware of it. You tug down the bottom of your dress at his stare. It’s not like it’s predatory, but it still has your nerves skyrocketing.

“Since when did you care about what others thought of your outfit?” he wonders. The question has you sighing, momentarily closing your eyes as you remind yourself you dress for you, not for others’ approval.

“Right,” you swallow harshly and sling your purse over your shoulder—mentally throwing away the negative thoughts too. “Let’s just go.”

With that, you open his car door and step out.

“Yn wait—” you hear Seungcheol call out right as you shut the door.

Your hair is immediately pushed from your face as the wind blows past. It makes your body shiver, and for a split second, you wish you took up Seungcheol’s offer to grab a jacket when you were at your house.

Seungcheol’s car beeps as it locks before he stands in front of you. His broad body blocks the wind, and you feel your own ease from feeling a tad warmer.

“I’m sorry if that came off rude,” he apologizes softly. “I think you look great.”

You look at him, face void of emotion. You don’t believe him, but you don’t want to argue. At least not standing in this weather.

“Okay,” you reply. “We need to go meet your friends.”

You take a step forward, thinking it will get him to start walking toward the building, but he doesn’t budge. You only decrease the distance between you two.

“I mean it,” he whispers.

Goosebumps are forming on your exposed skin the longer you stay out. You blame the cold weather for them, but something in your chest tightens at the way Seungcheol is speaking to you.

“I think red is your color,” he pauses. “You should wear it more, Cherry.”

Your head tilts at his last word. “Cherry?”

The corner of his mouth raises at hearing it from your lips. Slowly, he brings a hand to your face. You stand still as you stare at him with wide eyes. His hand brushes past your cheek before he grazes his fingertips along your ear.

“It suits you,” he murmurs, eyes moving away from yours.

You follow his gaze and realize he has been looking at your cherry-charmed earrings. His eyes then flicker to the matching cherry-charmed necklace resting below your bare collarbones. You’re not sure if he means the color suits you or if the nickname he just made suits you. Either way, you’re surprised at his words.

Suddenly, the weather doesn't feel as chilly anymore. Your body heats quickly at his comment, or maybe it’s from how close he is to you. Nevertheless, you need to distract yourself from this warm, odd feeling bubbling in your chest.

You clear your throat and step back. His hand lowers steadily.

“I’ll think about it,” you reply more confidently and clearly.

Seungcheol takes the hint and moves aside, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. He nods his head in the direction of the building, and you start walking toward it. Your pace is slightly faster than his, but you don’t mind not walking next to him. If anything, you need distance from him anyway.

The moment you open the door to the lounge, the heat from inside greets you in full force. You step inside and are welcomed by a worker. He is young, maybe a few years younger than you. He gives you a friendly smile.

“Hi, are you wanting to be seated, or are you with a group already?”

“With a group,” you reply. The worker nods.

“Do you need help locating them?”

You shake your head as the jingle of the door opening sounds behind you. Seungcheol stops behind you. His hand comes to hover over your lower back, not really touching you, but close enough to feel the heat radiate from his hand onto your skin. It has you shuffling away.

“They’re over there,” he says. You peer up to see where he is gesturing. Fair enough, you see his friends at a table toward the back of the building. There are five of them, all smiling at each other. You can spot a few familiar faces—one of them being Vernon. You feel a little at ease knowing he made it here.

“Thanks,” you murmur to the worker before making your way to the table. The closer you get to the table, the slower your steps become. You’re used to keeping your chin high in situations you aren’t completely comfortable in. The whole “fake it until you make it” is on repeat in your head.

Yet the saying is not encouraging you much right now.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” Seungcheol asks when he catches up to you. You don’t realize you had stopped a few feet from the table.

“No,” you say. You aren’t mad at him; you just need some space from him for now. You don’t like how you aren’t in control of your emotions when you’re around him. “I’m going to freshen up in the bathroom.”

Seungcheol eyes you for a second before nodding. You make your way to the bathroom, but right before you enter, you can hear the welcoming echoes coming from his table of friends. All of them sound cheerful and excited to see him. You don’t expect any of them to look forward to your presence, yet you feel a little disappointed when no one brings up your name—in a positive way.

After using the restroom and washing your hands, you stand in front of the mirror with your hands lingering under the warm water. Your eyes roam your face and body, taking in your appearance. Compared to your normal fashion, you really did dress down. You sigh when you realize you’re circling back to the same issue.

You retract your hands from the faucet and grab a few towels to dry them.

It doesn’t matter if you’re overly dressed. You usually are and don’t care. You look great. You should feel confident in your fit.

You gently tug the dress down before turning in front of the mirror.

You look fine. You look nice.

As you reapply your lipstick, you keep repeating compliments and reassuring phrases in your head.

They’re going to look at you funny. You are going to ignore them.

“That’s right,” you sigh to yourself as you toss the lipstick back into your purse.

Suddenly, your phone starts to vibrate. You pull it out to see Dae’s name appear across the top. You eagerly answer her call.

“Hey babe,” Dae’s voice comes from the other line. “How’s it going?”

“I’m ready to go home,” you say with a small huff.

“Damn, that horrible? Is he treating you badly?” Dae questions. You had told her about Seungcheol’s invitation when you got home that day. She was shocked, but ultimately supportive of you going.

You shake your head despite her not being able to see you. “No, he’s been fine. I just,” you pause. Although you have your ups and downs with Dae, she has stayed with you when no one else has. You don’t disclose your troubles often, wanting people to not see that side of you, but you’re feeling too low that you can’t stop the confession from coming out.

“I’m way overdressed for this place. Everyone’s in jeans or tights. I don’t belong here,” you say.

Dae sighs sadly. “Jeans are boring. I think I only own a pair,” she answers, trying to make you smile. “Just remember, if you were to die right now, would you want your last outfit to be something boring?”

“No,” you answer slowly.

“Exactly. These are people who are used to looking plain. They’re probably jealous you’re outdressing them. Don’t let them get to you, Yn. I’m sure you look beautiful.”

Your shoulders ease at her words. “Thanks, Dae.”

“No need. If they had the talent to dress themselves better, they would.”

You let her words sink in, but the reassurance doesn’t last long.

“I shouldn’t have come,” you say, beginning to pace the small area in the bathroom.

“It’s good for you to be around people from outside our department. It’ll make you more open-minded,” she encourages. “Plus, Seungcheol isn’t as bad as he seemed, huh?”

There is a teasing tone to her voice that you don’t like.

“One outing with him doesn’t mean he’s my friend,” you argue.

Dae giggles. “No, but it’s a start. Do you like him?”

“No!” you answer quickly.

“I was just asking in general. Not ‘like’ as in crushing on him,” she explains nonchalantly, but you can hear her smile.

“He’s,” you pause as you try to think of a word to describe him, “he’s been alright.”

“Well, I better let you get back to him then. I just wanted to check in,” Dae answers.

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” you say.

“Remember, you don’t need their approval. You never have, and you never will. People want the confidence you have.”

“I’m not feeling too confident right now,” you mumble.

“That’s because you’re overthinking. Chin up, okay?”

Sighing, you reply. “Okay.”

“Good. Talk to you later!”

“Yeah,” you say before hanging up.

Taking one last look at yourself, you roll your shoulders back and exit the bathroom.

Seungcheol is sitting in the middle of Hajun and someone you don’t know. His eyes lift to meet yours when he hears the sound of your heels.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks.

Nodding, your eyes roam for a spot to sit.

“You knew you were just going to a poetry lounge, right? Not the runway,” Hajun comments with a small scoff.

Your eyes move to look at her, and you quirk an eyebrow. She wears leggings with a graphic tee. Her discarded jacket is slung over the back of her chair. “Are you sure you know that, as well? Or did you think you were just going back to your bed?”

“This is how normal people dress,” she replies.

“Relax, Hajun,” a voice you don’t know sounds. You direct your attention to them.

The guy has black hair that is parted on the side to expose his forehead. His eyes are narrow, and even though he has a soft appearance now, you’re sure his gaze can be fierce when needed.

“People don’t need to dress up for special occasions,” he says.

You’re taken aback by his comment. Seungcheol’s friends have always questioned your wardrobe, so for this new “friend” to not agree with Hajun is surprising.

“No, they don’t, but you gotta’ admit she’s a little overdone huh, Soonyoung?” Hajun replies.

“Hajun,” Seungcheol interjects, giving her a pointed look.

“I understand not everyone knows how to dress. It’s okay, though. I can offer my services if you need some help,” you comment, half tempted to reach in your bag to get a business card. Although you aren’t on campus, you never know when you’ll run into someone who will make a good connection, so you keep them with you wherever you go.

“Services?” Hajun laughs and rests her crossed arms on the table. “And what ‘services’ are you offering? Because from the looks of it, I can tell exactly what you offer. Sorry, I’m not interested.”

Her eyes roam your body once more, indicating that the way you are dressed, means your services consist of paying to be with people in bed.

“I don’t think those services would help you anyway. Your rotting attitude is enough to repel anyone. Though I guess some people are willing to lower their standards when they’re desperate,” you counter.

“You’re such a—” she starts.

“Can we talk?” Seungcheol asks Hajun quickly, but he doesn’t give her the option to answer because he takes her hand and pulls her away from the group.

The table is silent for a few seconds before Soonyoung speaks up again.

“Don’t pay any mind to her. It’s nice to meet you. You must be Yn?” He smiles at you, slightly bowing at you.

“Correct,” you say, trying to not show how irritated you feel.

“Come sit,” he offers, pulling up a chair so you’re sat between him and Vernon. You thank him before sitting in the chair. You sit your purse in your lap as conversations begin to spark again.

Their voices become background noise as your gaze drifts to Seungcheol and Hajun in the corner. They stand close to each other and are in a deep conversation—clearly about you. Seungcheol has his back to you, so you can’t see his expression, but you can see Hajun’s. Her lips are in a frown, her expression not as sassy as before.

Though her pouting seems forced, her bottom lip a little too far stuck out. Soon enough, she rolls her eyes, an expression similar to how it was earlier. Her eyes then move from him to you over his shoulder. When she catches your gaze, she smiles and raises a challenging eyebrow. However, her gaze doesn’t last long because Seungcheol’s hand comes up and guides her eyes back to him. Even though his hand isn’t touching her completely, she leans into his touch. The act has you stilling.

“Yn?” Vernon questions, tearing you from your thoughts. You don’t realize you’re clutching your purse until your focus goes to Vernon. You ease your grip and raise an eyebrow.

“Soonyoung was asking what your major was,” Vernon explains.

“Oh,” you say, glancing around the table. It appears the others are in their own conversation.

You look at the man to your left. He gives you a reassuring smile that tells you he is patient. “I’m studying fashion design. Are you in business, too?”

Soonyoung shakes his head with a laugh. “I could never. I’m a dance major.”

“Wow, that sounds nice,” you say. “Aren’t your career choices limited with that, though?”

“A little,” Soonyoung replies honestly. He doesn’t seem offended by the question. Maybe he gets it a lot. “But it makes me happy. I can always teach or maybe even become a dancer in a well-known group.”

You hum, understanding his words.

“Isn’t fashion design limited, too?” Vernon asks.

“Clothes are everywhere. I can do a lot with it.”

“But not everyone will wear your clothes,” Hana says, having finally heard your discussion.

“There will always be someone,” you argue, confident in your work. It may be a slow start, but you believe in your designs.

She laughs. “Who? Your mother?”

Your eyes narrow at the mention of your mom, and Hana is quick to notice the change in attitude. Instead of letting go of the topic, she continues.

“Ooh, trouble at home? See? I knew the ‘Great Yn’ isn’t as perfect as she seems,” Hana says. What makes her think you are so “great” is unknown to you, but you aren’t surprised to guess people have made up a persona for you.

“Stop, Hana,” Vernon says, but it has no effect.

“Oh, so we were right?” Hajun’s voice comes from above. You glance up to see she and Seungcheol have returned. It appears their little chat did nothing to keep Hajun from being a bitch.

“Seems so,” Hana says with a smile. “Care to share with the class what kind of mommy issues you have?”

“No wonder she dresses like that,” Doyun, another one of Seungcheol’s alleged friends, adds. “She’s not getting attention at home. I guess Daddy isn’t there either?”

“That’s enough,” Seungcheol scolds them all.

Your eyes are darting from everyone at the table. Their stares are akin to shrink rays, making you feel tiny and minuscule. You know when you aren’t welcomed, and there’s no reason to stay listening to this. You want to snap back, end the conversation with your own last words, but nothing comes to mind.

In lieu, you push your chair back and stand up. Your hands twitch with the temptation to dump their food all over them, but you just want to get out as soon as possible.

You waste no time careening for the exit.

Seungcheol calls your name; you ignore it. The worker from before sees you, telling you goodbye, but you couldn't care less and push past the door before he can finish his sentence.

Your breath gets caught in your throat at the sudden breeze that slams into you. Instantly, your arms wrap around you once more. You glance around and see a bus stop down the street. You don’t care that it’s the other way from Seungcheol’s car. You hurry to the station, not sure when the next bus will come.

The bus stop isn’t deserted despite the cold weather. The area must be busy all the time since the sidewalks are littered with more people than you expect. All the seats at the stop are taken, yet you still shuffle under the shelter in hopes to get away from some of the breeze.

You are shaking, and your teeth are chattering. It’s impossible to force your body to stop since you need to generate heat somehow. You probably look like a pathetic naked chihuahua in winter.

You take out your phone, open up a browser, and search for bus times. Thankfully, there’s one coming in three minutes in the direction you need. The thought of taking the bus is not pleasurable. You hate the idea of your skin touching something so many others have touched. It feels unsanitary.

Accidentally leaning back against the wall while you silently groan has you jumping at the cold material touching your bare skin. Your jolt catches the attention of an older woman who is sitting near you.

“Aren’t you freezing, child?” she asks as she stares at your attire—or lack of.

“I’ll be fine soon,” you say, not really in the mood for talking.

“Where is your coat? Did you not know the weather was going to be cold?” she continues.

Utterly done with all the people-talk tonight, you hiss, “Focus on yourself. I’ll focus on me.”

She seems startled at your outburst. Her already crossed arms tighten as she turns away from you. Her muttered “bitch” doesn’t go unnoticed, but you don’t say anything about it. There’s no point in arguing with a stranger.

The sound of the bus calls your attention, and you mentally thank the universe for the great timing. After people leave and all the new patrons enter, you finally take a step up the bus’ steps. Before you can climb all the way, you hear your name being called. You look past the bus doors to see Seungcheol running toward you.

Just what you need.

You disregard him and step farther up the steps of the bus.

The bus driver looks expectantly at you, and it dawns on you that you need to provide payment before you can board fully.

“Card?” you wonder. The bus driver nods and gestures to a device to the right.

As you unzip your purse, you feel a hand grip your arm.

“Where are you going?” Seungcheol asks, slightly breathless. His hair is disheveled from running, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Home, idiot,” you huff and pull your arm out of his grasp so you can retrieve your card.

“Just come with me. We can talk somewhere else,” he pleads, a hand stopping your movements again.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Seungcheol,” you hiss. “Now, let go of me.”

He hesitates but slowly releases your arm. He doesn’t leave, though. “I’ll take you home. You don’t need to take the bus. Come on.”

“Go with him or get on! We have places to be,” a passenger exclaims, clearly annoyed with your drama.

You raise your head to the person, narrowing your eyes in a glare that tells them to pipe down. It has no effect on them. They shoot a fierce look back.

“I know you don’t want to take the bus,” Seungcheol comments quietly.

He’s right. Not only do you not want to sit next to a lady whose arms are filled with shopping bags—the only available seat—you really don’t want to add time to your trip home.

Seungcheol reaches out again and carefully takes your hand in his. This time, you don’t fight him as he guides you off the bus. Once you’re both off, the bus doors shut and begin its trip down the road.

You watch it silently, not knowing Seungcheol is discarding his jacket until you feel the warm material cover your shoulders. Your eyes snap back to him as if remembering who you’re with.

“I’m sorry they said all that stuff. I told them not to do that tonight,” he says remorsefully.

“Oh, so you’ll let them talk shit about me another day?” you chide and start walking away from him. Thankfully for Seungcheol, it’s in the direction of his car.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he replies as he hurries to catch up, which doesn’t take much effort as you aren’t walking too fast due to your cold, stiff legs.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll do that whenever they want to. They wouldn’t be the first,” you scoff.

“It doesn’t make it right regardless,” he says. You halt in your steps, causing Seungcheol to stop and turn to look at you.

“I talk shit about people behind their backs, too. Does that make me a bad person?” you question. Perhaps if he sees you as one he’ll leave you alone.

He exhales a deep breath. “Let’s just get in the car, okay?”

“You can admit it,” you challenge and walk closer to him. “Does talking shit about someone make me a bad person, Seungcheol?”

He stares down at you, soft gaze turning dark with annoyance.

“To the car, Yn,” he demands slowly just in case you won’t understand; his tone is sharp in a way you haven’t heard before. You don’t let that scare you away. Maybe if you weren’t so fired up, you would have been a little intimidated.

You laugh darkly and roll your eyes at his command. “You want me to sit next? Bark, too?”

“Now, you’re just being dramatic.”

Dramatic, he says.

“Woof?” you reply, dramatically giving him the best puppy-dog eyes you can muster.

Seungcheol’s jaw clenches at your response—not pleased with your sarcasm. However, instead of replying in an annoyed tone, he takes a step forward. His head draws closer to your face to ensure your eyes are glued to his.

“Wanna be a good girl and go to the car, Cherry?” he murmurs lowly, an eyebrow quirking up for a second.

His sudden change in tone has you stiffening. You want to bite back—figuratively or literately… you aren’t sure yet—but you can’t even remember what you are mad about in the first place.

“Hm?” he croons when you don't reply quickly.

Rather than a sarcastic reply, you simply grumble, “whatever,” before pushing past him to get to his car.

You stand next to the passenger side like before, waiting for him to unlock it. Seungcheol comes beside you and swiftly unlocks the vehicle. Although you aren’t arguing at the moment, you can sense some irritation lingering from him.

You get the feeling he'll always hold the door open no matter how annoyed he is with you.

You feel suffocated.

The air in the car is too hot. The weight of his jacket has you overheating. The tension is unbearable.

Seungcheol keeps his eyes on the road, not throwing you a single glance as he drives. Every once in a while he will tighten his hold on the steering wheel. One time you even catch the way his muscles flex at the motion—now exposed from not wearing his jacket. You never realized how fit he is. This isn’t the first time you have seen him sleeveless, but you just never stared long enough to notice. Or if you did, you simply didn’t care. Regardless, you notice now, and you have to force your eyes away before he catches you staring.

You want to ask for music so you don’t have to sit in this insufferable silence, but your mouth feels dry. You decide to just deal with the quietness, shifting in the seat so you’re facing the window more. Your eyes drift close as you let the hum of the car distract you.

Seungcheol’s jacket is snuggled around you, and his woodsy cologne fills your senses. It’s pleasant, and you don’t mind if you smell more of it in the future.

By the time you arrive home, you are on the verge of sleep. You stumble out of the car and shut the door without saying a word to Seungcheol. You expect him to drive off, but the sound of his tires moving never comes. Instead, you hear his car door opening and closing.

“You don’t have to walk me to the door,” you say while you glance behind you. Seungcheol is following you languidly.

“No, I don’t,” he says and pauses at the bottom of your porch steps. He places a foot on the first step while a hand holds onto the rail. You have your keys out, ready to slide them into the keyhole when you speak.

“Then don’t,” you reply sternly.

He chuckles lowly but doesn’t say anything about it.

“You can go now,” you say when he doesn't move.

“You have something of mine.”

Puzzled, you stare at him for a second. Seungcheol gestures to your body, and you quickly remember you’re wearing his jacket. You tug it off and toss it to him. He grabs it from the air with ease. The loss of heat makes you wish he didn’t say anything.

“Goodnight, Cherry,” he murmurs as soon as you click open your door. You step inside before turning to face him.

The nickname you used earlier forms on your tongue, yet you can’t find the courage to say it consciously.

“Night,” you answer, then shut the door before either of you can say anything else.

With your head bowed, you turn the lock slowly while you exhale deeply. His nickname falls from your lips under your breath—unable to keep the desire at bay.

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

A/N: Can't believe the first chapter is actually published 😭 I sat and stared at this for a few before hitting "post" because I'm so anxious! dfl;kbjdvs. Please feel free to share your thoughts on it so far!

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

taglist: @iammisstora, @christinewithluv, @lithelust, @musingsofananxiouspotato, @yoozuku, @lockburn-castle, @mystikhal-blog, @oncloudvii23 (couldn't tag :c), @cheolcherries (tysm!!!)

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

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the-blue-eyed-firebender · 7 months ago

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royai fic recs?

Ahhh friend you've read my mind! I actually started making another Royai fic rec post and it's been sitting in my drafts for a couple of days! Thanks for the ask, and enjoy! ❤️

Yet Another Royai Fic Rec

(I keep making these.)

My Girl Claudine by Leelo_Forever

Rating: G

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: On a night out with the team, Riza's attempts to avoid dwelling on today's date are almost working.

Excerpt: “Stay on beat!” shouts the Colonel while watching their feet, one arm in the air, the other slung over Breda's shoulders, with Havoc at the end of the line. The patrons begin to clap to the rhythm of their footfalls and she watches as the Colonel looks up and around, smiling and glassy eyed, shirtsleeves rolled, jacket discarded, and collar askew, crushed under Breda’s forearm. All three are breathless and rosy cheeked, grinning through their concentration.

“Louder!” he yells at the pub’s revelers, laughing as men begin to bang on the tables and stomp their feet from their seats. They are all going to be in sorry shape in the morning.

My thoughts: A vivid bar scene, a lighthearted moment with the Mustang team, and a lovely, quippy exchange between our two favorites. If you're looking for meaningful fluff, this story really hits the spot. And the song is just *chef's kiss*. It's that good I was fully expecting it to be a real song, not just part of this story. I was highly disappointed when I typed the lyrics into Spotify and nothing came up.

Want You to Live by @starwritingbri

Rating: T

Word Count: 4K

Summary: After telling the Colonel not to perform human transmutation for her sake, Riza finds herself slipping away. She has a conversation with an old friend about life, death, and Roy Mustang. (NOT a major character death fic!)

Excerpt: The man sitting next to Riza felt like he’d been there for as long as she could remember, and yet she knew he hadn’t been for a long time. Time felt more difficult to grasp than ever before. As a sniper, it would warp as her focus narrowed on a target, or in meetings where the speaker felt too self-important to get to the point. Seconds and minutes rarely felt like the allotted times they were supposed to be, but this situation brought an entirely new sensation to time distorting.

Riza sat up to get a better look at her companion. “Maes?”

My thoughts: Gut wrenchingly emotional and poetic, amazing characterization, and the scene this author created was so vivid in my head it was like watching a movie. The dialogue here is poignant and bittersweet, and Maes Hughes is captured so beautifully it's almost painful. Gosh, I love this piece, A+ angst with a happy ending.

two tickets to the rabbit hole, please by @chryseis (lovelyleias on AO3)

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.9K

Summary: A selection of letters exchanged between Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye from 1903 to 1908.

Excerpt: Dear Mister Mustang,

It pleases me to hear that you’re finally getting along with your rival. I must say, antagonizing someone over a piece of quiche is very strange.

My father is well, thank you for asking. Sometimes I hear things in the night–terrible sounds that I cannot explain, coming from the attic where he keeps his office. I have a sense that something is going to happen soon. But sometimes I wish I was an alchemist, so that I might understand him better. You probably think that’s silly. It probably is!

I hope your birthday was fun. Did you do anything exciting? You strike me as someone who enjoys their own birthday very much.

Best,

Riza Hawkeye

My thoughts: This one is a masterpiece, full stop. I've read this one several times, and keep coming back to it. Each letter is a progression of their long-distance relationship, a token of their importance to one another and how it deepens over time. And I love the poignancy of the strikethroughs. Roy's second to last letter absolutely shattered my heart, I actually had to stop what I was doing to absorb the feelings it gave me.

I first found this story by listening to the podfic version by the incredibly talented @klainelynch, who performs it so well. Highly, highly recommend.

Your hands, holding me up by @lassusog

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.6K

Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Riza wakes to find that her memories are gone. Her colleagues, best friend and her -surprisingly- very caring superior are there to offer help.

Excerpt: For the second time she locks eyes with the man in the coat.

“What’s your name?” he asks her quietly.

“I-,” she begins. Her pulse thunders against her temple. The man’s eyes bore into hers like he already knows the answer. So she gives it to him, because the realization is too heavy for her to carry alone.

“I don’t remember.”

The room goes deadly quiet.

My thoughts: This is one of the first fics I read in this fandom. It gets rec'd a lot, and for very good reason. This story is captivating right out the gate. I feel like memory loss is a trope often used but seldom done right. This author has done it right.

And this dialogue. THIS. DIALOGUE. Oof it just sizzles. The team's banter. Rebecca and Mustang's bickering. Mustang's gentleness and his suave sense of humor. Perfection, all of it.

The characterization is spot-on, especially for Riza, which is so impressive as she herself doesn't know who she's suppose to be, and yet she still comes across as herself (does that make sense?)

More Royai fic recs: here and here

#royai #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #fanfiction #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fma #fmab #royai fanfiction #ao3 #fanfic #royai fic rec #fic rec

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nekokii123 · 19 days ago

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So uhhh this is a fic that I wrote a few years ago, wasn't ever initially gonna put it here but a friend/mutual of mine told me it might do better on here so!! I figured I'd give it a shot :) (a/n explains everything, I hope you guys like it!!)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48041542

Poking Bruises - Nekokii - 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga) [Archive of Our Own]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive warning: Major Character Death

Category: Gen

Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku

Characters: Bakugo Katsuki (desceased) Midoriya Izuku OC (interviewer) Todoroki Shoto (mentioned)

Additional Tags: Aged-Up Character(s) Future Fic Angst and Tragedy Interview style Izuku’s POV Pro Hero Midoriya Izuku Flashbacks Midoriya Izuku Needs A Hug Talking To Dead People Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Manga Spoilers The actual scene is from chapter 285 AU Fic Sort Of Blood and Injury Major Character Injury Trauma

Summary:

During a fight with Shigaraki, Bakugo makes his famous sacrifice and dies taking a hit for Deku. Years later, Izuku looks back at this life-changing event for an interview as he still struggles to understand why.

Written interview style from Izuku’s perspective.

Manga spoilers! Actual fight in question is from chapter 285. If you know, you know.

#bkdk #bnha #dkbk #mha #fanfiction #ao3 #bkdk fanfic #bakudeku #platonic or romantic ig its up for interpretation #bkdk is just such a... idk how to feel about it lolol #katsuki bakugo #izuku midoriya #i was quite proud of this one #mha fanfiction #thank you mootie <3

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xaharadesert · 8 months ago

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Vampire MC Caught by Vampire Hunter - Headcanon

Julian Devorak x MC

A/N: Time for my yearly post, as requested by a very lovely anon! Also, this almost turned into a fic, so apologies for the weird format my dears! Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes :) requests are (technically) open!

TW: major character death (it’s you, you die in this one, sorry), disrespecting a corpse/graphic description of a corpse (it’s also your corpse, sorry), vague allusion to vomit (this one is not you!)

❤️Julian❤️

As a doctor, Julian had been fascinated by your vampirism and altered traits

As a human man, he had been a little bit scared (although, given that the two of you had been together for a while before you told him, he felt reassured that you hadn’t eaten him yet)

But as a significant other? He was terrified. And not for himself

Julian liked to think of himself as one of the more open minded citizens of Vesuvia, and even he had some trouble coming to terms with your vampirism and its implications

Your relationship had been a tad rocky following the announcement, as Julian was preoccupied with debating the ethics of loving a vampire

But never let it be said that Julian believes all life is precious; he’s a well-traveled man, and he’s met some of the worst humanity has to offer

So if you’re careful with your targets, he’s completely fine looking the other way

In fact, having a bit of knowledge on the subject, he helps you find more efficient methods of storing blood in order to give you more time to research potential meal sources

All that being said, he adapted to the situation and loved you just as well as he would have if you hadn’t had a proclivity for drinking blood

No, it wasn’t the dietary restrictions that worried him: it was the hunters

Vampire hunters weren’t exactly common, since, well, vampires weren’t either

But they were known for their dedication and cunning

Julian, ever the proactive protector, always kept an ear out at the Rowdy Raven for any rumours of a vampire hunter entering Vesuvia, ready to whisk you away at a moment’s notice

He kept bags packed for that exact occasion, and felt confident that he was as prepared as could be

But what he couldn’t prepare for was a hunter who knew about his connection to you, and who therefore knew to keep his presence a secret from everyone

That was maybe the worst part: that Julian didn’t know who had done it

Whoever they were, they were quick and brutal

Julian couldn’t have predicted that anything would go wrong that night; you had gone out with a target in mind, and Julian, having witnessed your supernatural strength in person, wasn’t worried in the slightest that you would return home unharmed when you were done

It wasn’t even unusual to wake up with you still missing, since you were occasionally caught picking your way through the shadows of town when the sun crept up too early for a mad dash home

What was unusual was the banging at the door at the crack of dawn and several of his friends’ panicked voices overlapping as they all tried to explain

They dragged him into town, down to an open square with an old but grandiose statue of a certain disgraced ruler standing in the middle, and they pointed up at it

Not at the statue, though, but of a corpse with a stake driven through its heart hanging by a rope from the statue’s extended hand

No one could fault Julian for the violent illness that overtook him in that moment— he was one of many who couldn’t stomach the sight

He shoved his friends away and returned home immediately to have his breakdown in private

This was more than some freak accident resulting in a loved one’s death; this was a murder committed with intent, and he had no way of finding closure

He couldn’t turn to his friends for help, since none of them had known your secret: this act of violence toward you provided no proof of your true nature, and Julian didn’t want to tarnish the reputation of the person he loved

Perhaps the only other person who could have helped was Asra, and after the incident he was nowhere to be found either

This was a burden Julian would have to bear alone

For although his friends made every effort to comfort and aid him, none of them truly understood the nature of his love or his loss

#the arcana #arcana #the arcana game #the arcana headcanon #the arcana hc #julian devorak #Julian headcanon #Julian hc #Julian arcana #Julian x mc #tw major character death #tw corpse

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romana-after-dark · 2 years ago

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The Wrong Way: Chapter 8

Dark!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Tommy Miller x reader (secondary)

Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: You are sold to Joel to clear up some of your fathers' debts, and he takes you back to his house where him, Tommy, and high ranking members of his raiding trope stay. Joel is mean, cruel, and hash, but had small moments of softness that confuse you in your venerable state. Over time, you get to know him and Tommy, and see different sides of each, and both are hiding secrets. Was it possible to fall in love under these circumstances? Or was that just another way Joel was fucking with you?

Aka: my mom sold me to One Direction

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, rape (not Joel), somno, dub con on tommy? idk he's not really into it but feels like he has to, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot) but fair warning, major age gaps, love triangle, pregnancy/birth, threats of abortion, major character death, mentions of potential csa/child abuse but does not even come close to happening, forced pregnancy, forced housewife shit, breeding, breeding kink?!?!

I wanna add we're really heavy on the birth/pregnancy, forced birth, choking, domestic violence, threats of hanging and murder. Can't say I didn't warning yuh (unless i missed a warning of course. then please let me know so i cant edit ASAP) Like this is a rough chapter, a lot of violence to a pregnant woman. but I wanna say right now...

The baby will not be harmed in anyway. Baby will be born healthy, and live and have a good life in both the main ending and alt ending.

5k words (sorry not sorry lol)

Also to clarify a few things I guess i didn't make clear enough in previous chapters!

Joel only 'guessed' that Tommy and LO slept together. He had suspicions but thought he could trust Tommy and his 'girlfriend'. When LO rushed to stop Joel from hurting Tommy, that was his 'evidence'. Joel was beating Tommy because he found out about Maria.

Joel only heard part of the conversation between Zach and Little One. Nick said way back in chapter 3 the wall are thinner than she thinks. He didn't know Lorenzo had any part of it, and because LO didn't rat him out, he never will.

Thats my bad for not being clear!

Can you catch the Superstore homage? (aka i rewatched two episodes just to take it line for line lol)

***************

Month 3

No one warned you about morning sickness.

You knew fuck all about sex before you came to Joel’s, just a thing or two from your friend back at the ranch and how to get a man off with your mouth or hands, but pregnancy and birth was next to nothing. You didn’t even know how pregnancy happened really, other than a penis in a vagina until you asked Tommy early on if you were going to get pregnant. After a very uncomfortable talk for both of you, Tommy explained that Joel told him he pulls out, so you should be good… Lorenzo said you can still get pregnant that way, but thinking back to the night Joel almost killed Tommy and you… Joel finished inside… the timing added up.

Pregnancy and birth were entirely unknown to you, and you wished someone would just give you a heads up. Joel had a daughter and no doubt had been through at least once pregnancy, and Lorenzo had mentioned 4 of his 6 older sisters got pregnant before leaving the house… something about no sex education, men too old for them, and their religion not believing in birth control or abortion… but you didn’t know what half those words meant, and after Lorenzo mercilessly made fun of you for days about not knowing Joel’s song for you was actually a very famous song, you didn’t dare ask him about the words, or anything with pregnancy. You didn’t want to ask Joel either, not wanting to give away how terrified you were, not wanting him to think you didn’t want to… But you did! You did want this baby, you reminded yourself again and again and again, because Joel was good to you, Joel took care of you, Joel would care for this baby too. You’d be bound to him, and he’d never get tired of you this way, and he wouldn’t hurt the mother of his child, right?

The birth was something you tried not to think about.

So here you were, puking your gut out before you even had breakfast and Joel held your hair back.

“Shhh, shhhhhhh” he coo’d and you heaved, yellow bile and acid coming up from inside you since the little food in your stomach from dinner had been thrown up 5 minuets ago.

With a final spit into the toilet, you sink back and Joel wipes your mouth for you. “I think that’s it.” You mutter, and Joel carries you into your shared bedroom, laying you down with the care of an infant before kissing your forehead.

“Don’t worry about breakfast, little one. I don’t need anything this morning.” He says before kissing your cheek. But you were worrying about breakfast, because you wanted it… but the only way you’d be getting food is if you made it. Tommy wasn’t here to care for you anymore. “I’ll be gone until the evening, what's for dinner?”

The thought of cooking, the thought of raw meats and the strong smells of spices made you want to vomit again. “I dunno…”

“I think a few of them chickens is ready to be butchered, you ever made chicken parmesan? We got that cheese I brought back yesterday, you could make something like that.”

You groan a bit, exhausted and tired despite being only 3 months in. You didn’t sleep at all last night, nightmares of the past and the future plaguing you. He knew that you didn’t sleep, you had told him… “Joel I can’t, the butchering, I feel so-”

“I’ll make Lorenzo do it.” He promises. “Chicken parmesan it is then?” He decided for you. What he didn’t understand is it wasn’t just butchering a few chickens. To make chicken parm you need chicken breasts, not the rest of it. You didn’t waste meat, so Lorenzo kills (you could do it on a normal day, but not with your heightened smell) then you pluck, clean, Lorenzo butchers, then you have to separate the different parts and put them into hygienic storage and take them to the freezer locker, then thoroughly clean yourself, all the tools and surfaces (and Lorenzo) to prevent illness. It would take hours. But Joel didn’t see that, he only ever saw the food at the end of his day.

“Okay” You agree reluctantly, and he begins kissing your neck and groping you, no doubt wanting a quicky before a long day of unspeakable violence. “Joel, please, I don’t feel good.” You beg him not to, but you learned in the past that this never got far.

His morning breath wasn’t helping anything as he tugged down your shorts. “I’ll be quick.”

You knew what that meant. Joel slid into you with no prep, no lubrication, and it burned. The steady rocking was the last thing you needed right now, and with his head buried in your neck, you covered your mouth as the nausea took over. You threw up, but like everything the last several months, you just swallowed it down again to deal with when Joel was gone. When he came inside (wasn’t he worried about you getting pregnant again?) you quickly pull up your pants and run to the bathroom, pushing past Lorenzo no doubt on his way to babysitting duties with you.

As he watched you run past and heard the sounds of throwing up, Lorenzo caught Joel’s arm as he brushed past. “Peppermint or ginger. Find it, whatever form it's in. Oils, drops, whatever. If you can find the leaves or the root we can make it into a tea. Just find it, it’ll help her nausea.”

Month 4

“Okay Lorenzo, I got a question for you, and you can’t make fun of me.” You say as you cook, the swell of your belly beginning to show now.

“No guarantees.” He says, sitting his drink. How did he find so much alcohol?

“Fine. Okay… when Joel and I have sex-”

He visibly cringed. “Since when do we talk about our sex lives?”

“Renzo.”

“Fine, go on. But remember I’m not exactly an expert on female anatomy.”

You take a deep breath. “Okay. Well I told you he always pulls out right? Um… ever since I told him im pregnant… he doesn’t.”

Lorenzo waits for you to continue, but you don’t. You think that’s it. “What the problem?”

You continue to avoid looking at him, stirring the soup. “Well.. what if I get pregnant again?”

He stares at you like he’s trying to make sense of your question before the recognition sets in. “OH!” But before he explains what he means… his face shifts… theres something sad in there, a hint of pain in his eyes you only saw once, the face he had as he looked at you in disgust while Joel carried you from the bedroom to the bath while you were covered head to toe in spit and cum and period blood… was it pity? “Jesus kid… No one really taught you anything, did they?”

“C’mon, just tell me.”

Scrubbing his face, he sighed. “No, you can’t get pregnant while your already pregnant.”

Oh. “Wait… really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Ah. Okay then.”

There was a long, long silence before he spoke again. “If you got any other question about, like… pregnancy and birth… I can try and answer.”

Joel had been trying to find a doctor, a midwife, something for you… but it was slim pickings in Wyoming.

Five minuets later, you were squealing, covering your ears, but laughing. “Ew! What the hell is a mucus plug! You know what, I don’t wanna-”

“IT’S A PLUG FULL OF MUCUS IN YOUR VAGINA WHAT DO YOU THINK IT IS?!?!” He yells loud enough to get past your attempt at blocking your ears.

“NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH!!! I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” But you still could.

“Honestly in the last month or two all kinds of weird things are gonna come out of you including but not limited to a very slimey and weird looking baby.”

You gasp, feigning indignance. “How dare you insult my unborn child!”

“It ain’t personal, sweetheart. All babies look ugly as fuck as newborns. Now, let’s get back to the gritty details.”

With a squeal, you try to run away. “No! I know enough!” But you’re laughing. It felt like you were messing around with Zach back in your childhood home.

“My sister Elaina lost like 4 teeth.”

“AAAHHHHH!”

Month 5

Joel had finally found a midwife of sorts. Well, technically, Jack did, as it was his cousin. Maura had been a nurse in the birthing wing a short time before everything went to shit and had been helping women deliver babies ever since. Initially, she told Jack to keep his mouth shut. She hated Joel and didn’t want a thing to do with him, but when no one else showed up and you were in your 5th month, she relented, purely for the sake of the innocent kidnapped girl.

“Put the fucking gun away, Joel.” She said as she entered your room, grabbing the barrel in Joel’s hands and pointing it to the floor. “Point that shit at me again and I’m not helping your child bride.” She stared him down, head tilted up only slightly to reach his eyes. If she was intimidated by Joel, she wouldn’t

Joel glared at her, but he didn’t have many options. “If you hurt her-”

“From what I hear, you’re doing enough of that yourself. Now, you stand up against the wall and watch if you want to, but don’t interfere, and do not try to intimidate me, understood?”

You watched in awe as she stood her ground… It had been months before you had done anything of the sort against Joel, only standing up to him when Tommy’s life was in danger. Joel gave a curt nod and she turn to approach where you lay, sat up against some pillows.

A gentle smile was on her face, but it was clear she was here for business. Still, her confidence and certainty put you at ease.

“My name’s Maura, I’ll be helping deliver this baby.” She was beautiful, with long black hair and a light smattering of freckles on her face, but got straight to the point. It was clear she knew what she was doing, asking you questions you hadn’t even thought of yet and examining you. When she was done, she stood up, looking at you, not Joel. “It seems despite the circumstances-”

Joel tried to interrupt. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean”

But Maura ignored him, keeping your attention with her bright brown eyes. “Despite the circumstances, everything appears to be progressing naturally, theres no cause for concern as of right now. But you need to keep things low stress.” It was then she turned to glare at Joel, to emphasize her point.

Maura said she’d be staying near-by and Joel was paying her a hefty price for her services. When you’d go into labor, Joel was to send a man on horse to fetch her, preferably Jack, but she warned she would armed, and she’d be there shortly.

That night, Joel held you close as you discussed baby names.

“How about Loretta? Like that singer you liked?”

Joel hums, none commital. “I always liked Dorothy, we could call her Dolly as a nickname. I know you like Dolly Parton” Joel had been teaching you about old country music, and you certainly had a few favorites. Not knowing many women in general, your pool of girl names was not strong so you drew from singers he’d mentioned.

You scrunch up your nose a bit at that. “I like Dolly, I don’t like Dorothy.”

“It was my grandmas name, I’d really like to name our daughter after her.” His voice had that tone to it, the one that left little room to argue, but you tried to push past Dorothy.

“Maybe June? Like June Carter?” You knew how particle he was to Johnny Cash, but also... that was the name of the only friend you had before Tommy.

“That’s beautiful, little one, June it is.” He smiles into your skin, and you think you’ve won, when he says. “Dorothy June.”

He had already decided, and there was no real option to argue or change his mind. You’d just call her Dolly, then.

You had one thing you really, really wanted for boy name, and you desperately hoped you could get it, but you couldn’t tell him why. You didn’t want any more kids so this was your only shot. You hadn’t even wanted this one, but as your stomach swelled with life, motherly love came with it and you decided you’d make the best of the situation. The child inside you was your number one priority. “Okay, boys? I really like Caleab… It’s my favorite boy name…” You didn’t have to tell him that was Zach’s middle name.

“I like it, bebita.”

You got what you wanted. You knew Joel was hoping for a girl, so you figured he was less particular on the boy name.

“Got any ideas for the middle name?” You ask him.

“Nothing in mind, really. I’m open…” He kisses your neck. “Anything you want?”

You keep quiet. The name you wanted… he’d never go for.

Joel pulled you closer, nuzzling his face against you as he whispered. “Ah. I see.” You freeze. Tommy hadn’t been so much as alluded to since he barely made it out alive and you thought for sure Joel would have a fit, and you began to prepare yourself to feel a hand wrapped around your throat… But he tucked your hair behind your ear and kissed into your locks as he settled down for bed. “Caleb Thomas”

Month 6

Lorenzo was getting on your fucking nerves today, and you were about to fling the frying pan, bubbling grease and all, at his face.

“Will you shut up?”

“No, I’m not going to shut up because you are being fucking stupid!” Instead of his usual spot sitting at the kitchen table, he’s standing, arms crossed, in the doorway as you tried to get diner done. “I told you the first day, you are a dumb. Bitch.” he was drunk, three sheets to the wind and absolutely no filter.

“You have no fucking idea what I am! I am trying to fucking survive, Lorenzo, I am trying to keep myself and this baby-”

“You are playing housewife to a serial murder and a rapist!” He yells at you, clearly frustrated. “You are rewarding all the bad things he’s ever done you just give positive reinforcement-”

“Don’t fucking blame me! I’m not reinforcing the bad, I’m reinforcing the good!” You storm over to him, glaring Lorenzo down. “You have no fucking idea how bad things were! I used to dream about killing myself, about dying, about Joel finally snapping and doing it! I am doing the best in the conditions I have!”

“You could have left! You could have left with Zach and gone off with him for fucks sake!”

With a burst of anger you didn’t know was even in you anymore, you shove him, hard, causing the drunk to fall over. “You wanna know what he did last time I tried to run? He caught me within 10 minuets, dragged me back and chained me to this table-” You point at the table that you and Joel sit at most evenings now for diner. “And raped me in front of everyone, Lorenzo! Then he branded me and left me to be gang raped by all your little buddies here! And no one could stop him, not even Tommy! All Tommy could do is stand by and watch, and unchain me after Joel left before anyone could do anything more!”

Lorenzo was not deterred. “That’s my fucking point!”

“If I leave and he catches me, I am dead!”

Scoffing, Lorenzo rolls his eyes from where he’s slumped against the floor. “Yeah, that’s why”

Unsure how much more you can take from him, you motion him to continue.

“You just don’t wanna admit you fell in love with your rapist.”

That was enough. You begin to walk away from him, but he follows after you.

“What about when you give birth, huh? What kind of father is he going to be? Are you going to stand by while he beats your kids?”

“SHUT UP!” You scream, still walking away.

“And what if you have a daughter? You just gonna let him molest her like your dad-”

You wipe around so fast you don’t even have time to blink. “No, Joel isn’t like that.”

Lorenzo laughs at you, cruel and loud. “You are 20 years younger than him, he raped you! You really think he’s above-”

“YES! He will not hurt her like that!”

“And if you have a son? Do you really wanna raise a man like Joel? The kind of man who beats and rapes innocent girls?”

Tears prickle at your eyes now, a terrible tightness in your chest bubbling with stomach bile. “N-no, that’s not gonna happen, I won’t let-”

“Oh, because you’ve had so much choice the last year, havn’t you. Sooooo much control.”

“I won’t.” You shake your head vigorously. “I won’t let anything happen to my baby, Joel won’t hurt them.”

“So, say he doesn't. You really gonna raise a kid here? Half the men here would’ve raped you, given the chance! You really think your child is safe here?”

You can’t argue with him when he’s right. But he doesn’t get it. Joel is good now, Joel protects you, Joel will protect the baby… Joel is gentle now… soft, kind… he thinks of you, he sings you songs… he plays music for you, he’ll be a good dad… You’ll be okay…

You shut down, going into autopilot. You don’t look at Lorenzo as you walk back to the kitchen to finish frying the chicken. Joel would be home soon.

Month 7

“JACK! GET MAURA!” Joel shouts as you groan on the bed, the tight contractions hurting.

“Joel, it hurts!” You call for him, and in a flash Joel is at your bedside, letting you squeeze his hand.

“I know, little one, I know…” He pets your hair, having flashbacks to Sarah’s birth…. He wanted another girl so bad, but god, he just wanted a healthy baby and for his girl to make it out alive. Birth was dangerous in modern medicine, nonetheless a post-apocalyptic shitstorm.

Lorenzo stood in the doorway, biting his nails. “You’re not due for another 8 weeks!”

Grunting through the pain, you let a rare bout of sarcasm slip. “Oh yeah, that’s right, never mind.”

“Could be false labor, you know? That’s called Braxton-Hicks contractions?” Lorenzo looked more nervous than you.

Joel ignored him. “It’s gonna be okay, Maura’s on her way and I think even out here 32 weeks is gonna be okay.” Joel wasn’t entirely sure about his own words. 32 weeks meant a premature baby, and pre-mature usually meant NICU… but there was no NICU to go to… if the babies lungs were under developed or anything like that, there were no options.

Lorenzo was chewing through his nails enough to draw blood. “Or maybe it’s Braxton-Hicks”

At that, Joel finally acknowledges Lorenzo. “Okay, we get it, you know the term Braxton-Hicks, we’re all very impressed.”

“AHHHHHHH” You yell, wishing to get there was something for the pain.

Lorenzo wouldn’t shut up. “Okay, contractions are getting longer, that means your in active labor?”

“Her water hasn’t broke yet!”

“Is she dilated?”

“Does it look like her pants are off to you?”

“Well check!”

“I don’t know how to tell! Weren’t you bragging last month you helped your sister give birth in a Walmart?”

“That doesn’t mean I know how to check if she’s dilated!”

“You know more than me!”

“I’m not sticking my fucking face between legs!”

“Oh, because you’re gay you’re suddenly scared of vagina’s?”

“What are you talking about?”

“So you’d rather let her just die?”

“DIE? Joel she’s not gonna die because I’m not looking at her fucking cu-”

“GUYS” you shout, causing both to turn and look at you. “The contractions stopped.”

There’s a moment of silence before Lorenzo speaks. “Oh. Huh. That’s uhhh… Braxton-Hicks I guess. False labor.”

As Joel kissed you that night, sex was the last thing you wanted, but you knew there was no point in fighting it.

Joel sucked on your throat, already bruised with dark marks from the night before, now sore and aching with new licks and bites, his hands roaming to expanse of skin presented before him. Gripping, feeling, pinching, tugging, some things felt good, some hurt, but that didn’t matter. He’d get you off, he always did, at night anyway, but you knew sometimes he just liked to feel you, feel what he owned. The pain is mine. Your cries are mine, your cunt is mine. And if you bleed? Your blood is mine.

Your belly round and swollen with child, he could not hardly keep his hand off it, every time his hand traveled to explore, it quickly found itself returning to its home, never wanting to miss a kick. He slithered down, nestling his face between your legs and devouring your pussy the way he did your neck, the way he did every piece of you, body and soul and until there was nothing left but this subservient version of you, weak and obedient to his hands. He lapped you up, skilled tongue exploring through your folds only pausing to nibble at the soft skin of your thighs or kiss the round stomach above him. He felt extra possessive today, a desperate, anxious way about him as he devoured you so hungrily you wondered if he intended to eat you, swallow you whole to keep you with him forever; a communion, and you were the eucharist, a matrimony of cannibalism.

You wanted to tug at his hair, you wanted to entangle yourself in him but your belly was in the way, so you simply laid back and enjoyed as he tongue fucked you, prodding at your entrance, his hands on the globe where your child waits to be born.

“Fuck, Joel, need you, need to cum, please.”

You beg for him, plead, and he devours. Joel knows you love when his perfect, plus lips such at your mound and your clit with long fingers fingering into you, and you yelp when they curl up and hit that spot inside you. “Keep moaning, little one, let me hear you.”

You obliged. Sometimes you wondered how sick everyone in the house was of hearing you, but they weren’t the ones you needed to please; pleasing Joel kept you alive.

“I need you inside me, please” Nudging him with your leg as you cry for his cock. “Joel, I gotta have you inside me, I need to cum on your cock, please? Please, Joel-”

A wet, sloppy sound as he detached from you, and his eyes looked just as hungry as he acted while he crawled up. “You beg so pretty, little one, such a pretty little cock whore.”

But you didn’t have time for his talking, you needed him inside you, now; the hormones of the pregnancy had a mind of their own. You take a chance and push him down, watching Joel smile as you straddle his waist. “God, I just- just need you.”

“The take me, little one, take me”

You cry out as you sink down onto him, feeling your cunt split on him. “Fuuuck!” Sobbing, you take him fully and begin to fuck yourself on him.

“Just like that, pretty girl, fuck, taking me so well, gonna have you all stretched out to have this baby, huh? Gonna give me a child, little girl? A baby of our own? Fuck, fuck you look so pretty like this, swollen with my child, stretching your stomach as I stretch your cunt, fucking perfect, my perfect wife.”

Wife.

Wife?!

You knew Joel was delusional… but fuck, Lorenzo was right… you were playing house wife. Joel thought of you as his wife…

“Gonna fuck you full of my cum, again, and again, keep you constantly knocked up, make our happy little family, you and me and a dozen little kids running around, FUCK, our family, our family.”

You continued the pace, you couldn’t falter, you couldn’t slow down, you couldn’t hesitate; you couldn’t give any sort of reason for him to think you didn’t want this…

But it suddenly struck you

You were trapped. Joel trapped you with a baby, knowing you’d need him to protect it, knowing you’d never leave your child… and now he was going to keep you pregnant. You could never leave with 5,6,7 kids, it would be impossible.

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my cock little one, just little that…” Joel reached out to touch you, roughly manhandling your tits that were swollen and engorged.

You begin to cry, but that wouldn’t give away anything for Joel; he fucking loved that shit.

One hand on your breast, one on your clit. “Cry on my cock, baby girl, cry when you cum.”

You did, you sobbed as you came, your body betraying the horrors you felt at his hands.

Month 8

“Hey Joel? Can I talk to you about something?”

You had to do it. You had to. And it had to be now. You two had fucked less than half an hour ago and he was currently eating your food, humming contently. He was always lovey-dovey after sex, and was always much happier after food… The pair didn’t line up often, so now was your chance.

“What’s on your mind, little one? Nervous about being a mother? You’ll be a great mom; I just know it.” He smiled at you with puppy dog eyes, looking up from his plate, and you couldn’t help smiling back, not when he showered you with compliments.

“Well… you’ve said before you wanted lots of kids… but we… well this little baby was an accident.”

“A miracle, not an accident.” Joel corrected you. You didn’t see how conceiving a child the night he was threatening to blow your brains onto a wall for sleeping with his brother if you didn’t shoot said-baby’s uncle was a miracle… but you digress

“Right. Well… we never really talked about more kids… and although I’m over the moon about this baby, I did initially not want to have it.” Joel’s face began to darken, but you powered through. “Maybe we could see how we feel about one kid after a few years before thinking about-”

Joel slammed down his silverware. “What are you trying to say.”

But you freeze. This was a bad idea, you needed to placate immediately, you needed to calm him down. “N-nothing, Joel, just thinking out loud.”

He stood up, a deadly, blank stare on his face, so far removed from the adoration as he bestowed kisses on your ever-growing belly. Joel walked around the table, standing behind you and placing firm hands on your shaking shoulders, leaning into your ear.

“You say’n you don’t want my kids? Don’t wanna be their mama? You don’t wanna be my wife?”

“No, no that’s not-” But you don’t get a chance to finish, his hand is wrapped around your throat and insane strength pulling you up and out of the chair, the wooden furniture toppled to the side in a loud clatter. He slams the back of your head against the drywall, you’re toes barely touch the ground; struggling to breath, you claw at his hand, but he doesn’t even blink.

The panic begins to set it.

“YOU ARE NOT IN CHARGE! YOU DO NOT GET TO MAKE CHOICES!” He screams, and out of the corner of your eye you watch as a few men hesitantly gather, like vultures waiting on the next piece of deadmeat. You couldn’t see who, but it didn’t matter. Even the good ones couldn’t intervene.

Joel’s face was suddenly right in front of yours. “Everything you have, any freedom, any luxuries, any power you think you have is because I have given it to you.” Black spots appeared, your vision blurring, sinking into the unknown and god, did it feel sweet. Was it finally over? “I bought you, I own you, you have no rights! You are nothing! You are nothing but a toy for me to play with, a breeding bitch and you should be so lucky to sit at my table!”

He let go, but as you gasped for breath, Joel yanked at your hair and patched you across the room, not letting go of his grasp on you as you flung into the counter. What he didn’t know, what he could never understand was how the handle of the draw rammed into the brand on your side. Suddenly, all sense, all rational went out the window, and you were violently thrust back to last year as he burned his initials into your skin. The flashbacks were triggered, and the result was nothing short of hysteria. You cry out for the only person who would step in.

“TOMMY!TOMMY!TOMMY!TOMMY!TOMMYYYY” You scream, the fact Tommy was miles away didn’t matter, nor did the fact this would only anger Joel more. This didn’t matter; you wanted him, no one but him, and all sense was knocked out of you.

Joel pulls you up by your hair and slaps you hard enough that you taste blood and screams at you to not say Tommy’s name, but you can’t stop, you scream and scream and scream for him to come save you and your baby, the precious little life inside you that has never done anything wrong.

You fight and claw and panic, hysterics drowning out the one or two voices telling Joel to stop; who they belonged to, you couldn’t say.

Joel stopped listening, and the voices grow louder as Joel drags you, kicking and screaming, outside; rope and a chair in his hand, your hair in the other, and Joel walked with long strides to a tree outside.

****************

YEEEEEEESSSSHHHHHHHHHHH Cliiiiiff hanger, hanging from a cliiiiiiffff thats why he's caaaaallled, Cliff Hangers!

Who else used to watch Inbetween The Lions? Anyway.

Who wanna guess what happens!

Only two chapters left!

For the sake of credit, if you didn't find the superstore reference or dont watch the show, most of the dialogue between Joel and Lorenzo and LO was between Amy and Jonah from two birth related episodes of superstore

Also, Maura is named after my dear dear friend @maura-honey who although is not generally a fanfiction girlie, made a tumblr so she could read, like and reblog this series and always sends me such lovely messages <3

Reblogs are the best way to spread and support, but comments mean the world. I know not everyone likes to share dark content on their blog, but even a kind anon is such support!

for those who voted you dont like or hate or Lorenzo, I hope that doesn't mean you hate him as n he's a bad character. I got a comment on AO3 that said "i cant tell if i like lorenzo or not, but i like him in the story" which makes sense! His victim blaming is really fucking shitty.

no poll today, sorry!

MoonBanana said they think LO copes by lying to herself until she beleives it, what do y'all think? is she as delusional as joel?

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @howaboutcastiel @tidlewav3 @bunnnyy-dummy @slutfortimotheechalamet @foggymoonbanana @dinsbaby @miraclesabound @jenna-ortega @primosworld @marclovers @threeheadedlamb @secretwriterpp @the-fox-den

@bitchyglitterfox @0bsessedwithfictionalcharacters @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @lunar-ghoulie @pedritosdarling @dreamonseems @alwaysdjarin @amoramorquetepintas @milla-frenchy

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