#also why was san being punished? like i understand san was mc punishment but wasn’t mc sans punishment as well or did i make that part up in

[fleurdov]

this is like not a coherent analysis of the chapter at all! I just don’t have enough room in the tags for the things I usually say🤝🏾so first off THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE UPDATE??? IT WAS SO GOOD????????

can i just say the party scene had me stressed with okay like so obvious spoilers ahead but i waited a couple of days and it’s been clawing at my brain and i have to let out my thoughts how much Mc was drinking though like I was sweating thinking she was gonna miss the time to meet with San or somehow let it slip or something. I had to giggle when she was gonna go over to Jongho tho and her looking at Yunho is so real

Also the convo with hwa at the party where he said Mingi definitely wasn’t better off before hand, and how when we tried to leave he hasn’t been the same literally made me :( I know Seonghwa is like the worsttt but I trust him the most out of everyone here so it just makes me remember how this all started with Mingi, but also makes me think about that convo between San and him where Mingi says that he was never the target just a means to get to Mc and that makes me even more nervous. IM SO GLAD WE GOT TO TALK TO HIM THO, though it’s hard for me to trust his words too bc ya know Hongjoong.

“You might not think of me as your best friend anymore, but I value our friendship more than anything else in my life, (Y/n). More than Hongjoong, more than The Answer, more than all of this; you are what I thank God for everyday. If something happened to you, I don’t think I would survive it.”

nvm this had me on the floor sobbing like hello???? minus what he says about the insane man afterwards i choose to ignore that part but this convo was so sweet and i’m glad it was had bc I fear for him like everyday but also now that they are “made up” i’m even more scared

CAN I JUST SAY AS SOON AS SAN SAID HE HAD TO GO BACK MY STOMACH CURLED UP like I knew weren’t escaping but the idea of being alone????? it gave me ptsd to the corn fields like I actually went through it😭AND WHEN SEONGHWA KNOCKED ON THE WINDOW???? my soul left my body i had to literally take a moment before i continued because i knew things were about to not be good

“Why are you crying? Are you leaving?” He sounds so sad that your heart nearly shatters. You're leaving?” He asks again, “without me?” 

shutuoshutuoshutupshutupshutup drunk seonghwa is making me upset and uncomfortable and i wanna hug him but i know it’s a trap but it’s such a good trap. and the fact that he says he won’t tell and repeating that we’ll both be fine if I just come back ALL WHILE CRYING??? this scene is heart wrenching was your goal to hurt my feelings bc my feelings are hurt right now. All i can think of this those characters analysis you’ve posted for Seonghwa about the parallels between him and mc and just knowing that it hurts to see this scene go down even more to me. And the fact that Mc knew that there was so escape??? perfection my soul is rotting.

“You glance at Seonghwa, who still has his back turned to you. He seems to be shaking, but you find it hard to believe that, even in this scenario, he would cry for you. This has to be part of it, right? Part of making you feel guilty?”

STOP(if you haven’t noticed i’m like in love with seonghwa idc if he’s the worst i love him so much)

Can I just say the way you write Hongjoong is brilliant! The scene where he’s about to drag you back through the woods to the barn is I wasn’t scared? but it definitely still felt like waiting for him to snap and that felt even worse? Ooo and Joong calling Mc selfish for self preservation is crazy bc the moral greyness of it all. I’ve found myself being like i don’t want mc to get san or anyone else hurt but then I remembered hey! they got her hurt they brought her here! and when you’re in this i need to escape mode it’s definitely hard to think unselfishly so for her to be called out on it but the most selfish of them all to manipulate at her at one of her lowest is just wowwwww

and before i rant about the ending scene oh my gosh I just- I imagine Jongho just tryna have his alone time and seeing mc and being like 🫥i don’t get paid enough

SEE okay Hongjoong is so good at manipulating that I literally had to pause and be like “no San didn’t kill Hanseul right???” Like bro had me questioning myself he’s so SICK also San calling him a psycho had me giggling cause that definitely was not part of the script

I’m still like in circles that Hongjoong told San to make this escape plan bc like one hand when San first proposed the plan that’s exactly what I thought was going on bc San was so devoted to Hongjoong? But after seeing Sans pov(granted i’m not sure what’s accurate anymore) I’m not convinced of his loyalty to Hongjoong so I chose to believe that he was in a way loyal and looking out for Mc in the best way he knew how I mean the dude is a cult member at the end of the day??? But also I DONT TRUST ANYTHING HONGJOONG SAYS HE LIES FOR FUN THIS WHOLE CULT IS LITERALLY JUST HIM LYING FOR FUn so I’m like??? I don’t believe that San truly is betraying us like this!?? But maybe I’m just foolish and extremely stupid. Like San hasn’t been cruel to us?? and to instigate a conversation on what we would do after escape the cult would be so freaking cruel???? I just i’m fighting between wanting to have some faith left in San because if I don’t that means Hongjoong really is right and I hate a world where Hongjoong is right!!!(Ive also looked at Characters pinterest boards you’ve made more times than I care to admit👉🏾👈🏾and i take those into account so it’s just hard for me to fully believe in san betraying us like this) But again maybe I’m delusional and if that’s the case then me and Joong are like this 🫱🏾‍🫲🏼

Was not expecting Mc to launch herself and beat San tho! Like girl wait!!! But also these men have trapped you here so at the same time? Go girl? But hongjoong is obviously satisfied with this so I feel so much dread and uncomfortableness and I feel so horrible for San even though I know I shouldn’t???? But I definitely feel horrible for Mc and I just wanna give her a hug

“You’re sure that he’s planning on strangling you, there’s a sweet little look in his eyes that tells you everything you need to know.”

OOOO THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTINGGGGGG(mc and hwa) this is so horrible give me 12 more of them! no but actually the fact that mc is just baiting whoever she needs to bait into attempting to off her makes my heart clench this poor girl. I hate it so much she doesn’t deserve this!!!! What I wasn’t expecting was San to start going in on Hwa though! Like if anything solidified San has some sort of messed up love loyalty to Mc it’s this and I dont(do) like it!

“Doesn't this make you feel good? Seeing what San would do for you? Even after it’s all over?” He whispers so close that his breath tickles your ear. “It could always be like this. Everyone could love you like this.” 

“Love? This is love? Your ploy to upset Hongjoong by including Seonghwa failed. If there isn’t love lost between the two of them, then what on earth about this is love? Still, your heart skips a beat”

HONGjoong you’re a sick demented tiny man and i hate you and I hate that this is going according to your plan!

ALSO sEONGHWA AND SAN SOBBING IN THE BACKGROUND WHIKE HWA TURNS AWAY AND SLAPS HONGJOONG HAND AWAY?? Deserved on Hongjoong part but seonghwa baby boy please forgive me! But Then i have to remember that he is actually the worst!

and this man had the nerve to comfort and hug mc after everything. He is- He’s really good like in a way bc throughout this whole story mc has stayed strong in not giving him what he wants and not believing him but this scene just flipped ALL OF THAT?? And that is truly what’s so scary? Her finding his presence grounding and seeing that he’s right it makes me feel so much dread for the upcoming chapters. Like until this moment I never thought that Mc could be fully fully manipulated or turned by Hongjoong but now I fear it may be a possibility and now all of those warning from Seonghwa about the not ifs but when’s are starting to seem scarier now. WE LOVE A DOOMED NARRATIVE

OVERALL I LOVED THIS CHAPTER AND IM FLABBERGASTED!!!! Like I need to think more of the chapter and look make at my previous reblogs and interims to put together better thoughts but for now I just wanted to express how much I loved this!!!!!!!!!

san, seonghwa and joong at the end of the chapter

everyone read The Answer like immediately!

THE ANSWER: XXVIII

Kim Hongjoong doesn’t like the word ‘cult.’ He prefers ‘sect.’ pairing: ateez x fem reader genre: cult au, thriller, angst check warnings on AO3

← previous || next → || masterlist chapter word count: 14,305 chapter warnings: alcohol consumption

Your month drags on. Despite the heightened activity around the farm, nothing much changes in your day-to-day schedule. You wake up at the same time, listen to Hongjoong ramble for the same amount of time, eat the same meals with the same people, and eventually sleep at the same time. Even book club is monotonous, barely even happening— but that might have more to do with the fact that Seonghwa (who conducts most of your lessons) seems even less enthused about having to spend an hour talking to you than you are. 

Which is strange— ish. Not that you expected much different from him, but you had thought that… or, well, at least, you weren’t feeling such a burning hatred for him anymore, so, maybe… 

But that’s silly. Of course Seonghwa still doesn’t give a rat's ass about you, why would he? All you’ve ever done is be a pain in his side. Even when he’s… comforted you in the past… its been to relieve his own discomfort or guilty conscious, not to actually help you. Probably.

You truly have no idea. Seonghwa is an enigma. 

In a way, though, you’re glad that he’s at least mostly off your case. Maybe due to your slight mental breakdown after seeing the… thing… Seonghwa seems to be less eager to poke fun at you. Not nice by any standards, but he’s certainly less devious around you. 

Which also means that he hasn’t been prying into your personal life. Thankfully. With the secret of your escape looming over your every thought, it would be just like you to accidentally slip-up in front of Seonghwa and blow the whole thing. 

Instead, he keeps things very formal. He doesn’t put his hands on you, he doesn’t stare at your face with that scrunched-up look, he doesn’t ask questions about you or your day or San or anything else. He talks to you about The Answer and lets you leave after. 

Though the arrangement is a bit startling at first, you get used to it quickly. Hongjoong appears less and less at these meetings, not even making an appearance in the last two weeks of the month. You have no idea what he could possibly be so busy doing, but you’re not complaining. 

Over the course of the month, there were several more rituals, similar to the tune of the one that you had participated in. Luckily, you were not called to participate in any of them, and no more— and your hesitant to even give whatever happened a name, but— Guardians appear to confuse and scare the everliving fuck out of you. 

More and more, you find yourself absentmindedly reaching to touch the pins on the collar of your shirt, fiddling with them whenever your hands are free. You want to think that it has nothing to do with Hongjoong’s bullshit about the Sign protecting you… and it doesn’t! Not at all! That would be crazy! It’s just a habit. Like spinning a ring or twisting a necklace. 

… You’ll go with that, anyways. 

Occasionally, you still have nightmares about your encounter. What a horrible night that all was. Obviously, there still is nothing in you that can believe that Guardians are real. That would be silly. And insane. But it’s only natural that you’re still upset about the whole situation. Whatever had happened, it had scared the shit out of you. It affected you— it makes sense that your subconscious would be fixated on such a traumatic memory. 

Right…? Or maybe you’re still actively thinking about that night and what the fuck had happened. Could it have been what Hongjoong said? Could he be right? Or were you blitzed out on some mysterious drug and everyone else was just lying about what they saw? Could Hongjoong manage that?

He probably could. It couldn’t be that hard for him to convince the entire cult into gaslighting you into believing that they had all seen the thing, too. But San… He wouldn’t lie to you about it, right? You find that very hard to believe. 

Thinking on it, San had, of course, never outright said that he had seen the same thing as you— you had never spoken in detail with him about it… But he was disturbed enough to set your escape into motion, which must count for something. Maybe he had seen a Guardian and was terrified enough to run. 

These sorts of thoughts dominate your month. 

You had volunteered to help out with the harvest, almost pleading with San for something to do. You were sure that Wooyoung would take your help back in the kitchens, but Hongjoong denied you any opportunity that seemed to come your way. He wanted you with San, where he could see you. 

Which is stupid, in your opinion. Hongjoong has the Followers, all of whom are incredibly devoted to him; any of them would give you up in a heartbeat if they saw you trying anything that you shouldn’t. He could assign literally anyone to watch you while you did a task, and it would achieve the same thing as having San at your side. But no. You were forced to rot in your apartment, glancing over San’s shoulder to his laptop on occasion, hoping to see something that could brighten your mood (or give you more information). 

Most of the time, you watch out your window, hoping to snag another glance at Mingi. There are a few times when you can see him in the field, but the Followers make quick work of the harvest nearest the compound, and move farther and farther away as the month rolls onward. Sometimes, you swear you can see his hair in the distance, reflecting the sun so brightly. It gets harder and harder to remember why you fought. Why you were holding a grudge. Could you really blame him for having your best interests at heart?

Sure, he had been a little possessive and freaky, but, like, he was kind of telling the truth. And he was just trying to make sure that San wasn’t hurting you.

You’re probably just making excuses for him, now, as you miss his company. Here you were, a cult member, locked away in an apartment, all for him— and you don’t even have him. You can’t even speak with him freely. The irony isn’t lost on you. 

Anyways, it doesn’t come as much of a shock when Hongjoong announces that the harvest is complete. Though the month might have been one of the longest of your life, watching the field workers get farther and farther away everyday at least gave you a sense of time passing. When even their tractors were tiny specks that you could hardly see without squinting, it was clear that the work was almost finished. 

The announcement is met with much fanfare, though you’re not sure why. From what you make of it, Halloween is always the date on which the harvest celebration occurs. It shouldn’t be much of a surprise that the harvest is over, especially with the date looming so soon, but the Followers all seem overjoyed. Maybe they’re all just ready to relax after a long, toiling month. 

That said, the day itself comes much faster than you anticipated. Hongjoong made the announcement of the end of the Harvest on the 25th of the month, leaving six days between the sermon for celebration and the actual ceremony itself. 

Which left you with six days to finish your mental preparations for your escape. 

San had refined your plan over the month, including making a timeline of the night and the places you should find yourself. He took over the entire plan, which you really couldn’t be more thankful for. His knowledge of the farm and the workings of the cult provided a level of security that you would have never been able to achieve on your own. 

In essence, the plan remained the same. When the ceremonial party began at 6pm, you would have nothing to worry about… besides socializing for the next nine hours. Just follow the vibes, and you would be okay. San was sure that you would have free reign during the party, that you’d be allowed to be away from a higher-ups side once the alcohol was flowing. At three, you would meet with San near the front doors, trying to not be seen, and make your way into the woods beyond the compound, where San will have stashed your car in the days leading up to the ceremony (it was as he was telling you this that he admitted to having the keys to your car in his office this entire time). 

Despite the simplicity of the plan, you figured that it would probably work. As long as you didn’t raise any suspicions in the coming days, and as long as everything went smoothly on Halloween, there was no reason to dwell on the possibility of it failing. 

Another failed escape attempt was unlikely to be something that you would survive, you knew this. Even with Hongjoong’s delusional belief that you are someone important to him and his religion, you weren’t sure he could tolerate this level of disobedience— at the very least, it would be disastrous if you failed. At worst, you would be leading San and yourself to early graves. 

Maybe Hongjoong’s twisted dependence on you would mean that he couldn’t kill you… But you weren’t going to count on it. He had threatened your life in the past, and you were quite certain that he meant it. He would be able to reason out a way that killing you made sense, if you pissed him off enough.

So. You simply had to make sure that you did not fail. Because you didn’t want to find out what Hongjoong would do with you if you did. 

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。. 

Much like the rest of the month, the few days leading up to Halloween also fly by before you can appreciate the gravity of your situation. 

Your stomach churns all morning. You chalk it up to nerves, the most obvious explanation for an upset stomach, but part of you wonders if there wasn’t something wrong with your dinner last night. 

Hongjoong announces the party to be held that evening during the morning service, like San had said that he would. You wring your hands together at San’s side, avoiding Hongjoong’s eyes. There’s a small part of you that is so sure that he would be able to figure you out entirely if he got a glimpse into your eyes. You just try to focus on the activity at hand, listening to Hongjoong with an impassive look on your face. 

You must do an alright job, as Hongjoong allows you to leave the chapel with San at the conclusion of the service. You’re even able to eat breakfast in peace, which actually does surprise you. Though Hongjoong had been exceedingly busy over the month, he still typically made time to freak you out most days. 

But San and you are able to sneak away after breakfast, back to your apartment, without a word from anyone. 

As soon as San shuts and locks the door behind him, he asks, “Are you still feeling alright? Up to this?” 

You blink across the room at him, hardly needing a moment to assure him that you very much still are ready to make your escape. You ask if he’s feeling the same way, to which he agrees. 

“Just a little nervous, I guess,” he explains, shrugging. “That’s normal, right?” 

“Of course it is.” You’re sure that San is no stranger to Hongjoong’s wrath; you don’t need to wonder why he’s nervous. Once again, you’re struck by emotion as you realize what San is doing for you, what he’s risking and what he’s giving up. 

He smiles. “What should we do, after we’re out of here?” 

You sit down on the couch, thinking through your answer, “I think we should just show up on one of my friend’s doorsteps and freak the shit out of them.” 

San laughs, rolling his eyes. “I meant more long-term, but we can do that, too.” 

Oh… Long-term. You still hadn’t broached the subject about… well, blowing the whistle on this place again, ever since San flipped out when you suggested it. You certainly still planned on doing exactly that, and you really don’t think that you need San’s approval to do so, either. Like, if you escape and just let this be, aren’t you basically an accomplice to all of the crime? 

The last thing you plan to do with your life is go to prison for Hongjoong, so you’re very much resolved in what you have to do… whether San agrees with you or not. 

“Well,” you start, “when’s the last time you saw your parents? Where did you live before you came here?” 

San sighs dramatically, making his way to sit next to you. “Sheesh, don’t remind me. They’re gonna kill me.” 

“They’ll be happy to see you, I’m sure.” You think of your own parents, who will probably also be a little upset… but hopefully mostly pleased that you’re still alive. 

San agrees with you easily enough about his parents, before adding, “Is this a bad time to mention that the Followers have been paying your rent since you went missing?” He asks, “So everything should still be there.” 

You gape at him. “Are you serious? How?” 

You know for a fact that your rent could only be paid through a pain in the ass portal with a very specific and strange ID and password. 

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “You had the info saved in your phone… so…” 

Puzzled. You are puzzled. Why would they go to such lengths to just keep your shit in your apartment? You had long since assumed that your landlord had probably broken down the door and left your stuff on the curb. 

Well, you remind yourself, it actually hasn’t been that long. Though it feels like you’ve been on this farm for the better part of your life, it has really only been… what, two and a half months? Maybe your landlord would give you some leeway, but… no need to worry about it, you guess. 

But why would they even do that? It’s not like your rent was cheap. What would they gain from keeping your apartment intact? The illusion of life? 

That’s probably it, you realize. Just a front to make it look like you, in fact, weren’t a missing person. Part of you wants to freak out at San, realizing that he must be the person that orchestrated all of this, but you’re too far past that. If you start being mad at him for doing his job, you’re going to have to be mad about a lot of things. Things that you can look past for the fact of what he’s helping you do tonight. 

“Speaking of my phone, can I get that back?” 

San, relieved that you don’t seem mad, smiles. “I’ll grab it tonight.” 

“Can’t I have it now?” 

He hesitates at that, inclining his head in question, “any particular reason?” 

You shouldn’t need to give him a reason, so you shake your head. 

“It’s probably best to keep it where it is, in case someone goes looking for it.” 

… Ominous. Who would be looking for your phone? 

But he’s probably right. And it’s not like there would be much to do on it, anyways. You’re not going to call the cops now, not when your escape is looming closer and closer with each minute that passes. You can’t jeopardize it now. 

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。. 

You’re a little surprised that dinner carries on as normal, without any extra fanfare. Though no one had mentioned one, you had kind of expected there to be another ceremony of sorts. But, no, dinner is normal. You sit with San and Wooyoung, the rest of the table almost awkwardly empty as the three of you eat in relative silence.

How is Wooyoung going to react when he wakes up tomorrow and you’re both gone? He’s going to be pissed. But, maybe, he’ll realize that you wouldn’t leave him here. Surely, after what he told you, he knows that you wouldn’t do that. You couldn’t have it in your heart to let him rot here, knowing what Hongjoong did to bend him to his will… or, at least, having an inkling of an idea. 

Before you know it, Hongjoong is standing at the head of the room, commanding the attention of the cafeteria. The room falls into a hush, no one speaks as Hongjoong starts his speech. 

“Everyone,” he addresses the room, “Loyal Followers of the Answer, it is with great joy that I officially conclude our harvest season.”

The room bursts into a polite applause, smiles shared around the tables as the Followers celebrate their leader’s message. 

“Despite a rocky start, we were very fortunate to remain safe for the duration of the month.” Hongjoong, for the first time that day, finds your eyes. “I put my thanks in the faith of our Followers, those who kept our protections strong all month long. Though it may seem that there was no danger at all, this is only thanks to their courage.” 

San reaches across the table to squeeze your hand, giving you a small smile. 

“As always, we will celebrate our safety and our bountiful harvest— which Jongho assures me will last us through the winter and beyond— tonight. Everyone of age shall participate; I do not expect anyone to hold back on anyone’s account, especially not my own. This success is as much yours as it is mine.

“Please, imbibe freely, socialize freely, celebrate your victory over evil. We start now, and we will not stop until dawn.” Hongjoong grabs his glass from the table behind him, saluting the room with it before downing the amber liquid. 

Again, the room applauds, though more raucously. Wooyoung excuses himself from your table, headed back to the kitchens. Soon after, Followers emerge with trays and trays of various specialty glassware, each filled with their respective (you assume) alcohols. Not long after, Wooyoung exits the kitchen with a rolling cart filled with, perhaps, more bottles of alcohol than you have ever seen in one place at one time (which was saying a lot, considering the bars you had frequented with Mingi in college). 

Without anyone’s encouragement, Followers begin congregating at the front of the room, helping themselves to the multitude of drinks available. You’re even surprised to see that someone brought out a case of Coke, presumably for mixing. When was the last time you saw coke? They must’ve made a run into town recently, you realize, though it couldn’t have had the same importance as when San went. 

You shrug it off. Not like it matters much, anyhow. San stands, offering his hand to you. You take it, graciously, prepared to get this night started. 

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。. 

There is an attempt to pace yourself, considering that you’re going to need to be at least a little coherent later tonight, but… well… it’s been a long time. And you are well aware of the fact that you have, like, basically 10 hours. That’s enough time to get drunk and then sober, if you play your cards right. 

So play them, you do. San sticks to your side like glue for the first couple hours, watching you carefully as you put away more than your fair share of drinks. He drinks, as well, but nowhere near at the speed or quantity you do. You’re vaguely aware that you probably should slow down, but why would you, when you’re surrounded by… like, tons of dudes that would protect you, and you include Hongjoong in that count. 

By nine, you are positively drunk, blissfully unaware of the worries from the morning. What is there to worry about? You’re having the time of your life, do you even want to leave? Why would you leave? The thought makes you laugh, not surprisingly. 

You flit around the cafeteria, having lost San a while ago. Or maybe it was only a few minutes ago… It doesn’t matter. You talk to a lot of people, introducing yourself and smiling when they tell you they know who you are. It almost makes you feel a little guilty, but it mostly makes you happy. So many lovely people know your name and your face and they know that Hongjoong thinks you're so important. How amazing! Tomorrow, you probably wouldn’t be able to repeat a single one of their names, but that doesn’t matter. 

The time flies as you keep talking to new people, your mind completely distracted from the plans you have for later. You do slow down your drinking, eventually, though that’s more so due to the fact that you’re too far away from the bar table to bother going back to it than anything else. 

More than a few times, you find yourself staring at Mingi, and, more often than not, he’s staring at you, as well. Maybe he’s worried about you…? The thought makes you blush. Mingi… Oh, Mingi. He looks so handsome tonight, too. His hair is still red, still bright, and his outfit is beautifully fitted to his bulky body. Phew. You almost need to fan yourself. 

Eventually, sometime, you’re not sure what time, you end up talking with Yunho. He is clearly not even a little bit drunk, you might even say he was stone-cold sober if not for the glass in his hands. Though you thought that he hated your guts, he still seemed a little amused by your presence, a small smile on his face as he has to catch your forearm a couple times. The drunk part of you wonders if you could get away with feeling his biceps, he’s just so tall and so handsome, but even you know it would probably be wrong to feel him up. 

You couldn’t repeat a word of your conversation to anyone, not even seconds after it happened; not that you think it particularly matters. After Yunho, you find Wooyoung and Yeosang, and you can distinctly remember thanking Wooyoung for the incredible selection, but… yeah, that’s about it. 

While you’re about to go talk to Jongho, who looks like he could use some company, a hand wraps around your elbow, tugging you backwards. Not one to argue, you spin around, ready to follow whoever it is. Seonghwa stares down at you, an incredulous expression on his face. 

“Hi, Hwa,” you smile up at him, grabbing his free hand with yours. 

His expression morphs from confusion to disgust. “Do not call me that. How much have you had to drink?” 

You shrug, swinging your conjoined hands back and forth. “Enough to have a good time. What about you?” 

“Certainly less than that,” he tugs you back toward the cafeteria tables that had, apparently, been mostly moved out of the way at one point. “Trust me, you don’t want to bother Jongho tonight.” 

You hadn’t planned on bothering him, just keeping him company, but you figured that Seonghwa wouldn’t see it the same way. 

“What time is it?” You ask him, only remembering that you’re wearing a watch after the words leave your mouth. 

“10:44. Got somewhere to be?” 

“Nope,” you pop the p sound, following his lead as he ushers for you to sit down at the table. 

Time continues to fly by, though Seonghwa isn’t as good of a conversation partner as the other people you’ve been spending your time with. He also doesn’t let you drink anymore, instead insisting that you drink water, refilling your glass every time you empty it. Lame. 

As the minutes pass, though, you can feel yourself coming back to reality. You definitely aren’t sober, very far from sober, but the lights stop being bright and you stop being amused by everything that Seonghwa says and does pretty quickly. You also excuse yourself to the restroom more than a few times, though you dutifully return to the same table each time. 

The night progresses, and you find yourself making eye contact with Mingi more and more. Like, seriously, basically everytime that you happen to look at him, he’s already looking at you. Besides the one time you look over and see him engaged in conversation with Hongjoong, you appear to have his rapt attention. 

You try to look around the room for San, but there are so many Followers and it’s kind of dark and you’re still not in your right mind, so you give up pretty quickly. You have no idea what it is that he could be doing, besides preparing for your escape, so you just let it be. Better to not ask after him and then have the others asking the same questions. 

Though he had stopped you from drinking, Seonghwa had not stopped himself. He paces himself much better than you had, but he keeps drinking as the night wears on, eventually starting to open up a bit more with you. He also lets you get another drink, which you happily allow yourself, as you start to feel much too aware of your situation once more. 

“You know,” Seonghwa mutters, leaning closer to you, “this is, essentially, Hongjoong’s birthday party.”

You pull away from him, confusion evident on your face. “It’s his birthday?” 

“In a week.” He sips his drink, grimacing at the taste. “But he doesn’t make a big deal of it on the actual day, so here we are.” 

You’re actually rather surprised to hear this, and from Seonghwa no less. It’s strange that Hongjoong doesn’t want his birthday to be a huge thing considering his, you know, enormous ego and narcissism issue. Maybe he doesn’t like everyone knowing how old he is. Kind of takes away the appeal, knowing that he’s… how old is he? He can’t be much older than you, just given what you know about him and Seonghwa (who you know to be the same age). You’d ask Seonghwa, but it kind of seems like he wants you to ask, so you’re not going to. 

Instead, you sip your own drink, trying to look like you’re thoughtfully processing and tucking this information away for later. Why would you ever need to remember Hongjoong’s birthday, especially after tonight? Your stomach rolls over as you have this thought, the reminder of your plan being truly nauseating. 

“When's your birthday?” You ask instead, propping your elbow onto the table. 

Seonghwa looks momentarily taken aback, but responds easily enough, “April third.” 

“Far away, then,” you frown. Another realization hits you. “You’re older than Hongjoong.” 

He shrugs, “Believe it or not.” 

For whatever reason, this is, in fact, slightly disconcerting. 

But you ignore that feeling, opting to look around the crowded room. Hongjoong himself is mingling with Yeosang and Wooyoung, both of whom look incredibly pleased to have their leader's attention. Wooyoung is not shy with his hands, clutching the Hongjoong’s arm close to his chest as they speak. Vaguely, you wonder if he’s feeling okay. You’re still not sure how he can be so loyal to someone that apparently had him… what? Tortured? Who even knows. Stockholm syndrome is a real thing, you guess. For once, Hongjoong doesn't sense your gaze, staying completely unaware until your eyes shift away. 

Immediately, perhaps unsurprisingly, at this point, you make eye contact with Mingi. You hold it this time, tilting your head in question as if asking him if he needs something. He’s certainly acting like it, with all this staring, but he looks away from you, resuming his conversation with a Follower you haven't met before. Like everyone else, he still sports a drink in his hand, dutifully sipping it every lull. 

“Princess, can I ask you a question?” Seonghwa speaks across from you, calling your attention back to him. You incline your head in the affirmative, and he asks, “Why did it take you so long to come after him?” 

The question takes you off guard, probably for the fact that you wonder it yourself. You take another drink, looking down at the wood grain on the table. 

“Too personal? I figured.” Seonghwa takes your silence as an unwillingness to respond.

“No,” you're quick to deny him, “it's not that. I just don't know the answer.” 

As horrible as it sounds, the real answer to the question is simply… you were busy. Life happened. You didn’t have any reason to suspect that he disappeared due to malicious circumstances. Finishing university was your top priority— plenty of your friendships fell to the wayside as you wrapped up your degree. And, by the time you graduated, it didn’t seem pertinent. You always figured that, if you reached out, he would answer. Hell, his mom told you where he was, if she knew about this place, at least to some extent, you couldn’t blame yourself for not knowing what it would end up being. 

If you had known the truth, you think, you would’ve come sooner. Of course you would have. There is no universe where you let Mingi go through this terror alone… though that’s essentially what’s happened since your argument and the rift in your relationship. 

Whatever the case, it seems silly to worry about now. You're here. There were a few months where Mingi was here alone, and the idea of those few months horrifies you. Knowing that Mingi went through a Choosing ceremony without any kind of internal support system makes you feel sick… but, you have to admit, he did pretty alright. Sure, he's traumatized and changed and brainwashed, but at least he has friends and a purpose and, well, he seems happy… ish. There's nothing you could've done if you had been here earlier, so it's no use dreading on it. You still would've been kept apart, and there still would've been the same circumstances. 

You take a look at your watch, sighing as it informs you that the time is 11:52 p.m., not nearly as late as you were hoping that it would be. 

Seonghwa huffs at your non-answer, tucking his hair away from his face to stare at you harder. “Sometimes I feel like I can hear your thoughts just from watching your expression change. Mingi wasn’t better off before you got here, if that is what you were thinking.” 

It wasn’t, but, like, that’s kind of close. 

You shake your head, sliding your drink across the table between your hands. “It’s not that I think he was better off… Just that he did alright for himself in the meantime.” 

His face twists, though you’re not sure what emotion he’s trying to convey. “Do you even remember what happened when you tried to leave?” 

Your eyes meet his. 

“He had you back for, what, two days, and then completely broke down.” Seonghwa glances back over at Mingi. “I don’t think he’s been the same since you did that.” 

“You can’t guilt trip me into forgetting my need for self-preservation,” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t betray any sense of, well, guilt. 

He rolls his eyes, looking back at you. “In case you haven’t noticed, Princess, you are very much still alive.” He mutters something else under his breath as he picks up his drink, taking quite a few consecutive swallows. 

You mirror his actions. Hopefully, you can keep it that way.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。. 

In a stroke of luck, Seonghwa let you keep drinking until you found yourself teetering between tipsy and drunk, again. He kept drinking, but he didn’t really keep entertaining you, instead wandering off to do his own socializing. You do try to keep yourself under control, though considering that it’s almost time. 

You take a look at your watch, surprised to see that it’s already 2:15. Blinking through the haze of your tipsiness, it sure seems like 2:15 is an okay time to get a move on, right? Like, surely no one will notice if you slip out now instead of in, like, twenty minutes or whenever you and San had agreed he would grab you. 

Plus, if anyone did notice, you could just say that you needed some air. It wouldn’t be hard to believe, looking at the state of you. You would quite enjoy a nice breath of fresh air. You could always come back inside if it felt like it was too early, or if you got a bad feeling. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to sneak off for just a moment. 

In a brief look around the room, you don’t find anyone paying any particular attention to yourself. In fact, you can see Hongjoong and Seonghwa engrossed in conversation, about as far away as could be. Seonghwa’s hand rests on Hongjoong’s shoulder, a demure smile on his face as he listens to Hongjoong speak. Most of the other Followers in the room all seem significantly more drunk than yourself, with hardly a person meeting your eyes for any longer than a second. 

No one will notice, you’re positive. 

As you begin your attempt to shuffle your way through the crowd toward the hall, a hand grasps your elbow, stopping you in place, for the second time that night. 

Despite the looks that he had been giving you all night, you’re still a bit surprised to see Mingi looking down at you when you spin around to see who the hand belongs to. Your plans to go get a breath of fresh air fall out the window at the sight of him. Why would you need fresh air when Mingi is standing in front of you? He has just about the same effect on you. 

At first, he doesn’t seem to have anything to say, but, if you know anything about Mingi, it’s that he yaps when he’s drunk. And he clearly is, judging from the rosy tinge of his face and the awkward smile he wears as he looks at you, a smile that sends you straight back to college. It’s as if he’s completely forgotten everything that’s happened in the past couple months, forgotten the arguments and the anger and the time that has passed. 

“Hey,” he greets you, having to raise his voice over the din of the party. 

“Hey,” you greet him in turn, politely waiting for him to continue. 

“Can I—” he stops, opting to lean his head closer to yours so that he can talk into your ear. His hand stays on your elbow, locking you in place (not that you would’ve moved away from him, anyways, being tipsy and all). “Can we talk in private?” He asks, his voice deep in a way that you had almost forgotten. 

Nodding, you allow him to retract himself and lead you away, toward the hall that you had originally been aiming for. When the door shuts behind the two of you, the party sounds fade; the two of you isolated from the rest of the world. 

Well, the two of you and a few other Followers that linger in the hall, but close enough. Mingi doesn’t seem bothered by their presence, and you really aren’t either. You’re sure that you haven’t had a truly private conversation with Mingi since before he went missing, given that he apparently seeks Hongjoong’s advice for everything. Anyways, the presence of a few stragglers doesn’t worry you. 

Mingi drops your arm, awkwardly smoothing his dress shirt. “You look nice. Pretty.” 

“Thanks,” you smile, leaning your back against the wall— partly in an effort to keep your balance.  “What did you wanna talk about?” 

He shrugs, observing the hallway like he had never seen it before. “Just wanted to talk. We haven’t talked in a looooooonnngggggggggg time.” 

Part of you wants to ask him who’s fault that is, but that would be cruel, so you don’t. “It has been a while now.” You agree instead, glancing at your watch. 2:22… which is basically 2:25, which is basically 2:30… already. Nerves wash over you again as you clench your hands in front of you. 

“If I’m being honest— and I always want to be honest with you, you know— Hongjoong said that I should talk to you because he thought it would be good for you to hear my thoughts about the situation and also because he said that he thought that you seemed bummed out that we haven’t been talking and that made me sad so I’m taking his advice and talking to you.” Mingi says after taking one deep breath, not stopping for a moment. “Also Yunho said that you still seemed kind of mad and I can’t take the thought of you being mad at me anymore so basically what I wanted to say was that I’m sorry.” 

Blinking, a pout forms on your face at his explanation. He had been worrying about you and your relationship. You could’ve reached out to him at any point in the last month, but hadn’t out of fear that he was still upset with you. And here he was, apologizing. 

“Mingi,” you wring your hands harder together, “it really isn’t important anymore. I stopped being angry a long time ago.” 

He shakes his head, closing his eyes. “It is important, (Y/n), I don’t want this to go unsaid. I’m sorry for confronting you and acting like a douchebag, I’m sorry for scaring you, I’m sorry for questioning you about San, which was absolutely none of my business, I’m sorry for yelling and fighting him and ignoring you for weeks and sending San dirty looks whenever I saw him.” He pauses. “You probably didn’t know about that last one, but, still, I’m sorry.” 

Your frown only grows deeper with each apology, your eyes starting to sting. You don’t want to cry, not when you’re sure that this night will steal plenty of tears already, but Mingi is making it hard. If you had known that he was beating himself up equally as hard as you had been, you would’ve apologized a long, long time ago. If you had known… isn’t that just the statement of your life? 

“When you were attacked at the start of the month, I was terrified.” He swallows. “I wanted to be at your side, but Hongjoong wouldn’t allow it, and I was sure that you would be pissed if you woke up and I was there, so I left. But that solitude left me a lot of time to think, to think about who you are and what you mean to me.

“You might not think of me as your best friend anymore, but I value our friendship more than anything else in my life, (Y/n). More than Hongjoong, more than The Answer, more than all of this; you are what I thank God for everyday. If something happened to you, I don’t think I would survive it.” Mingi swallows again, harder, tearing up himself. “I’m so glad that you’re here. I know you still are on the fence about Hongjoong, but I need you to trust me when I say that he loves us and he lives to make us better people.” 

Finally, you allow a few stray tears to spill onto your cheeks. Mingi’s confession is touching, truly, making your stomach do all sorts of gymnastics, but Hongjoong. How does he weasel his way into absolutely everything? Again, you’re struck by the thought that Mingi will be plagued by Hongjoong for the rest of his life. This… grip he has on Mingi won’t disappear overnight. 

Thankful for the wall behind you, considering your dizziness, you lift a hand to wipe at your cheeks before responding. “Mingi, no matter what happens or how much we fight or if I’m here or not, you’ll always be my best friend.” You smile weakly, hoping that he doesn’t read too deeply into your words. “Nothing can come between us for long.” 

Mingi wipes at his own tears, sniffling. “Can I hug you?” 

Before you can fully nod your head yes, Mingi is pulling you away from the wall and into his arms, crushing you to his chest. You’re quick to reciprocate, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist, savoring the feeling. You hadn’t been able to hug him in ages, but his arms feel just like you remember them— if not a little bit more muscled. Inhaling deeply, you rub your face against his shirt, probably ruining the crisp-ness that he had been trying to preserve. His tears wet your scalp, but you don’t mind as you only squeeze him tighter. 

The moment could not be more perfect; reconciling with Mingi fills your heart with such a certainty that you’re doing the right thing. Knowing that he isn’t upset with you, isn’t harboring any ill-will any longer reassures you that it will all be okay. He knows that you wouldn’t just leave him behind— he’ll know that you’re coming back for him (if he ever even finds out that you’ve left). 

That is, of course, ignoring the bit of his speech where he encouraged you to stay and adapt to Hongjoong, but, like, whatever. It’ll be irrelevant in a few hours, now. He’ll be thankful, eventually. 

But no moment can be perfect and last forever. 

A throat clearing from behind Mingi calls your attention back to the world. The two of you separate, though Mingi puts a hand on your cheek as you pull away, wiping away your tears with a tight smile. 

San looks behind Mingi’s shoulder, his face hard as he watches the two of you. You could almost chuckle at his jealousy, but the seriousness of the situation suddenly rises into your awareness once again. 

“I'm sorry, Mingi, you'll have to excuse us,” San says, despite the fact that Mingi hasn't acknowledged his presence. 

Mingi leans close to press a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he says, quietly enough so that you're the only one who hears. 

Nodding, you untangle yourself from his arms, taking a few steps towards San before offering your hand to him. 

He takes it, offering no final remarks to Mingi as he pulls you further away from the cafeteria. Further away from Hongjoong and Seonghwa and Mingi and the rest of them. Closer to the forest and your car and freedom. 

Your heartbeat picks up in your chest again. Had you lost track of time talking with Mingi? Were you running behind? Why does it seem like San is in such a rush to get you away? It’s almost hard to keep up with his stride, your boots feeling heavier with each step that you take. 

Vaguely, you find yourself worrying over if Mingi will get in trouble for being the last one to speak to you. Surely not… How would he know what you were planning? There wouldn’t be a way for him to… unless they suspected that you had confided your plans to him. 

Which you hadn’t done, but if they were desperate enough to need a scapegoat… No. Hongjoong wouldn’t go that far. He may never even find out that you had the conversation in the first place. Mingi might mention it, but he probably wouldn’t have the opportunity to in the chaos that is sure to ensue when your absence was realized. 

They were bound to figure out what had happened easily enough; they wouldn’t have to interrogate your friends to come to the most obvious conclusion: that you and San had run away in the night, without outside help. 

Before you know it, San is opening the front door, ushering you into the night. 

As you had suspected, the cool air does feel amazing on your skin. Lacking a coat, you know that you’ll grow colder the longer that you’re outside. It’s almost November, now, the air is almost strikingly cold after the stuffiness of the cafeteria. Even the hallway had hardly felt relieving compared to this. 

Taking a few deep breaths, you allow San to continue wordlessly leading you forward. If you weren’t still rather tipsy, maybe you would question his silence. But it doesn’t bother you very much, if you’re being honest. He probably just doesn’t want to risk drawing any unnecessary attention…

He had assured you that there would be absolutely no one outside of the compound at this point in the night, though… 

But, still, he has his reasons, you’re sure. Instead of continuing to walk in front of the building, he veers dramatically to the right, walking the distance until you both turn the corner to round to the side and eventually the back.

Though you had never seen the woods at the back of the compound directly, you had known it was there. The ancient, old-growth trees loomed from behind the building, their leaves able to be seen from a far distance, even from the road. To actually be in front of them was a new sensation, a new emotion. The sight of their trunks startled you into realization.

This is real. You’re doing this. You’re running. You’re getting out of here. 

San stops at the edge of the trees, finally turning to address you in a low voice, “You still want to do this?” 

Nodding, you squeeze his hand in yours, bringing your free hand to grip your joined hands as well. 

He looks at the dirt, kicking a loose pebble at his feet. “Don’t look too hard at anything you might see in these trees, (Y/n).” 

However foreboding that is, you agree with his request, “I won’t take my eyes off of you.” 

San allows himself a small smile, squeezing your hands back. 

Whatever it is that San doesn’t want you seeing, you don’t think you ever had any hope of being able to see in the trees, anyways. It’s pitch black outside, the moon doing little to help you as you walk deeper and deeper. 

You’re almost kind of amazed that he’s able to lead you so confidently. He must not have consumed anywhere near the same quantity of alcohol as everyone else. Which actually makes quite a bit of sense, considering you hadn’t seen him very much at all following dinner. What had he been up to? Was Hongjoong not suspicious of his absence? He must’ve made something up… explained it away… 

More than a few times, you stumble over a tree root or loose brush, twigs snapping underfoot with each step that you take. San holds you steady, slowing his pace when you need it. 

After what feels like forever, but is probably more like a couple minutes, you reach a clearing. At first, you think that you spot your car right away… but then you realize that you can’t be sure. In the clearing, there’s no fewer than twenty vehicles, of all makes and models and sizes. Some look like they haven’t run in years, a thick, dusty coat over their windshields that you can even see in the dark. 

San doesn’t pause to let you take in the clearing for very long, however. He quickly pulls you along with him, between a row of cars, before you’re able to find your own. It looks just as you remember it, albeit a bit dirty. Your heart leaps as you realize what this means.

You’re at your car. Your car. It’s right here, right in front of you. You’re going to fucking get out of here. Holy shit. 

San lets go of your hand, fishing into his pocket before pulling out the keys and handing them to you. “We don’t lock the cars, but…” 

Clutching the keys in your hands, you can’t help but smile. “I can’t believe this is happening.” 

He awkwardly mirrors your smile, glancing behind you before pointing it out. You turn to look, not all that surprised to see that the clearing opens to a dirt road, leading back off into the trees. “We’ll go that way. It meets up with the main road after a couple miles.” 

Nodding, you turn back to your car, almost giddy as you approach the passenger’s side door. Gently, you pull on the handle, hoping the door doesn’t creak too loud as you do so. Thankfully, it’s no louder than normal, and you eagerly sit yourself down in the seat. San stands in the door, his hands resting on either side of the opening. “Ready, then?” He chuckles as you settle yourself into the seat, adjusting the recline to lay back. 

“Let’s go.” 

He gives you a thumbs up, pushing himself off of the car before patting at his pockets. 

His smile falls, his face paling. 

Your heart drops into your stomach, “What is it?” You ask, sitting back up. “Is something wrong?” 

San blinks, twisting to look back the way that you came. “I have to go back.” 

“What?” You almost shout, “Are you crazy? You can’t go back!” 

He shakes his head, leaning down toward you. He grips both of your shoulders tight in his hands, looking in your eyes, “It’ll be fine. I will be right back, I promise.” 

“San, no,” you gape at him, “what could possibly be so important?” 

San closes his eyes, shaking his head at your question. “It’s hard to explain, I— Just, I,” his eyes open as he squeezes you one last time before dropping your shoulders. “I’ll be back, I swear.” 

“Let me come with you,” you plead, attempting to grab one of his hands as he pulls away. “Don’t leave me here, alone, please, San.” 

Shushing you, he shakes his head again. “You’ll slow me down. I swear, (Y/n), it will be fine. I’ll see you in a minute.” 

He takes a step back, shutting the door before you can come up with a response. You’re too dumbfounded to even attempt to open the door again, too confused to try and follow. What could possibly be so important to him? What if someone finds you here? How are you going to explain that, huh? 

But the possibility of that is so remote. No one knows that you’re out here, how could they? Even if someone notices your absence at the party, they’ll just assume that you’ve retired to your room, right? And even if they feel inclined to check, that’ll take a few minutes, in which time San should return to you and get a move on. 

Still, you find it very hard to swallow your panic. 

What if this is it? What if you die because San had to go back for something that he wouldn’t even tell you about? Your breathing grows shallow with each new terrible thought that invades your mind. You can see it now, Hongjoong walking into the clearing, rage in his eyes, knife in his hands. Making you grovel and beg and plead with him only to end it right then and there, anyways. San would come back and find your still-warm body, soon to join you in death. 

You try to blink away the images that flit across your mind, realizing that your eyes burn as if you’d been crying. Your hand flies to your cheek, unsurprised to find it wet. Taking a deep breath, you do anything you can think of to distract yourself. 

The air in your car is so stale, your months old air-freshener doing little to help the dry, bitter smell. You fumble with the glove box, pulling it open while praying that there is anything in it that can distract you from the horror of the moment. 

Papers spill out as you indiscriminately pull everything out, ushering it onto your lap. You throw aside the car manuals and your outdated insurance, searching for just one thing, anything that could remind you of what you were enduring these terrors for. 

A brochure for The Bean slides out, your own face smiling from behind the coffee bar. Adam can be seen in the background. It almost makes you sick, that horrible reminder of the life that you had been forced to give up. You keep sliding the papers around, cutting your finger in your desperation. 

Sucking your paper cut into your mouth, you realize that you're not going to find anything in the glove box. You make a half hearted attempt to shove everything back inside before deciding that it's not worth it. 

Tears still pouring down your face, you reach for the driver's side sun visor, flicking it down to reveal the photos you kept in the sunglass clip. 

On top is a picture of Jungeun and yourself, embracing with your faces pressed together. You quickly slide it back, knowing for certain that you have a picture of Mingi in the stack. 

Seeing the picture will wake you up, you're certain. It will give you the courage to keep going. 

Finally, a polaroid emerges. It's the first picture you had clipped to the visor, a testament to how much time had passed before you started looking for Mingi. How had you waited so long? You pry the polaroid free, it having stuck to the metal after so long. 

Though your hands shake, you don't really need to see the photo in detail to appreciate it. Mingi stands in the center, a peace sign next to his eyes. He's not smiling, rather giving you a sour look. He wasn't pleased to be the first test subject of his gift to you. The second photo was of yourself, taken by him, you remember. The third was a selfie of the both of you. 

You don't have either of the other photos, but you have this one. Something compels you to protect the picture, to keep it on you, so you slide it into your waistline and pray that your pants don't distort it too much. 

A knock on the window almost kills you on the spot, with the way your heart leaps into your throat.

The shock of who you see through the window makes you gag. 

No sooner after seeing his face does he open the door, falling onto his knees next to the car to be eye level with you. 

Seonghwa is drunk, much more drunk than he had been when you were with him earlier, you realize this very quickly with the way his voice wavers as he asks, “What are you doing?”

You have no response. You open and close your mouth a few times, but only choked sounds of fear come out. 

He grabs your hands, holding them in your lap. “Why are you crying? Are you leaving?” 

He sounds so sad that your heart nearly shatters. Your heart should shatter, now, knowing that escape is impossible. But you can only focus on Seonghwa, on his knees, in front of you. 

His bangs brush his eyelids. “You're leaving?” He asks again, “without me?” 

Seonghwa hiccups, frowning. The question is so absurd you can't pay any mind to it. Why would you bring Seonghwa with you? His forehead comes to rest on your thigh. 

“Seonghwa, go back to the party,” you manage to get out, clearing your throat after. 

“I can't,” he pouts, “Hongjoong is mad at me. I can't tell why.” 

You think Hongjoong always seems a little mad at Seonghwa, but you're not going to say that to him now.

“Please, Seonghwa, go.” 

He shifts his face and blinks up at you, his eyes reflecting the moonlight so prettily it almost hurts. “Come with me, then.” 

Seonghwa gets to his feet, but he doesn't release your hands. They dangle between the two of you, the height different causing yours to float up. “We can fix this. Just come with me,” he says. 

You're shaking your head before you realize it. “I can't go back. I can't do this anymore.” 

Seonghwa bites his lip, looking around. “This isn't going to end well; please,” he looks back at you, “just come back with me. I won't say anything, Hongjoong will never know, we'll both be fine. We'll be fine. Nothing has to change.” 

“I can't go back.” Your heart beats wildly in your chest, you can feel its thrum. When San returns, what will he do about Seonghwa? How will he possibly get past him? Seonghwa won't let you leave, but you have to. To what length would San go to get you free? 

You don't want Seonghwa hurt. You realize now, staring up at him, that you care about him. More than you would've ever thought you would. Who is Seonghwa if not the ultimate victim? Is he not just a reflection of yourself?

“Get in the car, Seonghwa.”

He frowns again, pouting his lower lip. “I can't leave Hongjoong.” 

“Yes, you can. Get in the car.”

You don't give a second thought to your proposition, nodding your head toward the back seat.

“I won't leave Hongjoong.” Seonghwa clarifies, dropping your hands. They smack down onto your thighs, stinging. 

You'd question him, start yelling at him if you could. But you can hardly form a coherent thought and every word feels like risking the contents of your stomach coming up. Instead, you frown, looking down at your lap rather than at his confused face. 

“You can't leave Hongjoong, either,” he says. “Even if you run, he'll find you, always. You'd come back on your own, you won't know how to live without him anymore.” He tells you this eerily flat. “Just come back with me, he doesn't have to know about this.” 

Seonghwa is speaking nonsense. Even your flurried mind understands this.

“Please.” He begs. “(Y/n), please.” 

You shake your head. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head as singular tears run down his cheeks. “I'm sorry. I tried to help you, I did.” 

Seonghwa turns away from the car as the sinking feeling in your stomach solidifies into a rock of dread. 

Of course, you knew what it meant to see Seonghwa out here. There was never any chance, not after he had found you. If he knew where you were, Hongjoong did, too. Surely, he wouldn’t risk you getting away. He would drag the moment on, though. Making Seonghwa come here, making him plead with you, what sort of torture was that? What was the point? Isn’t he just going to kill you, now? 

Why is it that, when Hongjoong enters the clearing, you aren’t scared? You hardly feel anything. You knew this was coming. You knew that this would happen, didn’t you? There wasn’t any other possible ending to this night. You wanted to believe that it was possible, that you could escape, but it was futile. It was never a possibility. Even with San’s help. You knew it, deep down. 

Like Seongwha said, there is no getting away from Hongjoong. You were foolish to think that you could, and you know it, now. 

Instead of watching Hongjoong approach, you watch Seonghwa slink away. He doesn’t go far, stopping to rest his head against the roof of a car a few down from your own. You can imagine how good the cool metal must feel. 

You snivel, wiping at your eyes as Hongjoong stops in front of you, standing where San had stood, where Seonghwa kneeled. He’s silent. You don’t look up at him, instead focusing on his hands as they hang at his sides. They’re empty, though clenched into tight fists. 

“You have ignored every. Single. Opportunity. I have given you.” He emphasizes each word. “Chances I gave you to make the right decision.” 

It’s not even worth your energy to respond, is it? Obviously, you should’ve known that the various conversations you had over the night were warnings. How else would everyone manage to bring up something that would make you want to stay? And Seonghwa… 

How humiliating. 

“I’m disappointed in you.” Hongjoong says, and it’s so much worse than if he had been screaming and violent. “I thought you were starting to fit in.” 

You glance at Seonghwa, who still has his back turned to you. He seems to be shaking, but you find it hard to believe that, even in this scenario, he would cry for you. This has to be part of it, right? Part of making you feel guilty? 

Looking at him is a mistake, though. Hongjoong harshly grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Look at me when I'm speaking to you.”

You still have no idea what to say to him. It all seems so stupid, in retrospect. 

It's only as you look up at Hongjoong that you start to wonder where San is. If you asked, you'd surely get your ass handed to you. But the terrible feeling in your stomach only gets worse. What if he comes back to this scene? How will he react? Poor San, he was so desperate for you. How will he feel, with the plan destroyed? Does Hongjoong know the depth of his involvement? 

So, you break your silence. It couldn’t get much worse, could it? “Where is San?” You ask. 

Hongjoong lets go of your face, but only to bury a hand in your hair, yanking you into standing. Instinctively you bring your hands to his, crying out in pain. He only smirks, releasing his grasp on you. 

You collapse onto your knees, catching yourself with your hands at his feet. Your nice pants, they're dirty, now, you catch yourself thinking. Like that's the biggest issue right now. 

“Where is San?” He repeats your question, spitting the words out like they leave a vile taste in his mouth. 

Reduced to a heap at his feet, you can't bring yourself to look up at him. This night has turned up just as your last failure had. You're not all that surprised when Hongjoong's boot comes down on your hand, though not hard enough to hurt. “Look at me.” 

You do. From even further beneath him, he looks more Biblical than ever. 

“Who do you think told me where you were?” 

Ah. 

Of course. 

That makes sense. 

Your face contorts, though with what emotion, you’re not sure. 

You want to think that there might be an explanation, one that doesn’t involve San betraying you to a homicidal maniac, but you know that there isn’t. Instantly, you know. 

He never meant to help you. He never cared about you. He had laid a pretty trap for you, at Hongjoong’s request, and had sprung it just as planned.

And he couldn’t even be here to see the fruits of his labor. Pathetic. Your mind swims with everything you had told him, everything you confessed to him, the times you had been warned about him. You fought with Mingi over him, you defended him to Mingi. 

“Yes,” Hongjoong smiles down at you. “All of this has been planned since the day I made you live with him.” 

You nod up at him, realizing that he must want something else from you. 

“You must understand, (Y/n), that I control everything. You can’t trust in anything besides this fact.” Hongjoong kneels to meet your eye line, inadvertently crushing your hand under his foot as his weight shifts. 

Gritting your teeth, you suck in any sound of pain that threatens to escape. The last thing you plan on doing tonight is letting Hongjoong realize the depths of your pain. 

He tilts his head in question. “Do you have anything you want to say to me?” 

Even in your haze of emotions, you can hardly resist spitting a few choice curses at him. “Fuck you.” 

He grimaces, though he’s clearly not actually affected. “Not what I was thinking, Princess, but I’ll give you a pass.”

His hands are suddenly gripping into your shirt at the shoulders, yanking you onto your feet. He hardly allows you to catch yourself before he begins dragging you across the clearing, away from your car, into the trees, away from your last shred of dignity. 

There isn’t a single thing on your mind as he pulls you through the trees and eventually back around to the front of the compound. He’s groveling under his breath, probably cursing you out in any and every way that he knows how. And you deserve it. You deserve every stumble of your feet, every tear burning your cheeks, every horrible thing that Hongjoong can fling at you. 

You failed. Not only yourself, but everyone stuck here in this cult. You’ve utterly failed. No one is going to be rescued, no one is going to be saved. You cling onto Hongjoong’s blazer as he guides you to the barns, having no idea what could be waiting for you there.

Maybe this is it, huh? Maybe he has finally realized that you’re more trouble than you’re worth. For a second there, it had looked like he was going to keep you alive, but maybe not. That was probably just wishful thinking. He’s probably delivering you to Jongho, too disgusted to even deal with you himself. 

Hongjoong releases you to throw open the barn doors. You have to catch yourself on the siding to remain standing, but Hongjoong quickly returns his grip on you, hauling you further inside the barn. 

It’s the animal barn. He walks you into the center aisle, dropping you unceremoniously. You fall into a heap at his feet. Again.

You can hardly hear Hongjoong over the general animal sounds, but especially over the oinking of the pigs. “I’m going to leave you here,” he starts, glaring down at you. “When I come back, you’re going to still be in this building.”

Sniffling, you nod in agreement. 

He scoffs. “You’re lucky, (Y/n), very lucky. If you had made it even an inch down that road, what do you think would’ve happened to you? To Mingi? Haseul?”

There isn’t anything for you to say. The pigs fill the silence. 

“Selfish. Utterly, disgustingly, selfish.” Hongjoong spits. “Stay here— before you try and lure anyone else to their certain deaths.” 

With that, he turns on his heel and exits the barn, shutting the door behind him. The overhead lights remained on, but you barely even found yourself capable of caring. The dark wouldn’t make any difference. You failed.

And Hongjoong was right. You are selfish. Even though you knew the truth about San’s intentions now, you hadn’t known before. You had thought he was risking his life to help you, and you had been fine with it. What was wrong with you? Why is this just occurring to you now? Had you really been so desperate as to involve another person? What’s the matter with you? Have you no shame? No consideration? Were you such a narcissist that you would put your freedom above someone’s life?

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as you wipe your cheeks with your hands. The sensation is calming, allowing you to take a few deep breaths as you collect your bearings. As hard as it is, you should try to keep your head on straight… there’s still no telling how the night will end, and something tells you that it’s far from over. 

One thing you know for certain, though, is that you cannot do this again. You can’t. No matter what. Something else will have to give. There is no more escape. There is no more saving yourself. How the fuck could you, after this? 

Standing, you brush your hands off on your pants. Hongjoong hadn’t said anything about not moving from the spot. Might as well look at the animals. Animals can be calming, right? Therapeutic? Maybe?

Wishful thinking. 

Your tears keep flowing, but you find your breathing to be coming back to your control. You stumble with your first step, but quickly regain your balance, tottering over to the nearest animal pen— which happens to be the pigs.

This is where you had confronted Jongho about Haneul. How long ago was that, now? That horrible confrontation lingers as you grip the metal fencing keeping the pigs in place. The bar is cooling, demanding your attention. You realize now that the air itself, though warmed by the animals' presence, is getting rather chilly, as well. 

Tugging your sleeves lower over your hands, you peer down at the animals. Some of them are sleeping, but most of them aren’t. Each sow is separated from the next, in neat, orderly rows. Last time you had seen them, there weren’t individual pens. Jongho had been feeding them in one huge, disorderly mess. It had been rather disgusting. 

You had also fought with Mingi, that day. About so many things that just seem stupid, now. What was there to even be mad about? Mingi is just Mingi. You can’t fault him for being a victim.

And the fact that he was just looking out for you, and, in fact, turned out to be absolutely correct. 

As you turn to walk to a different pen, the feeling of the polaroid at your waist recaptures your attention. Stopping in place, you fish it out of your waistline, cupping it in your hands. 

Thankfully, it doesn’t seem to be damaged. You stare down at it once more. It couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes since you had put it in your pants, and, yet, here you are. Completely changed. 

Mingi’s face frowns up at you, but your eyes catch on something outside of the photo. Your own expression melts into a frown as you lower your hands, shoving the picture back into your pants. 

Wiping your tears again, you kneel down to the ground next to the pen. 

What had caught your attention was a scrap of white, so starkly bright against the packed dirt floor of the barn. 

You reach out to grab it, suddenly overcome with an even worse feeling of dread. Your scalp goes cold, a shiver spreading across your body as you touch the… fabric. 

Fabric. 

Blinking your tears away as fast as you can manage, you pull, feeling your stomach drop as the piece grows into a cuff. Buttons and all. A white cuff. 

There’s nothing that you can do to stop yourself from thinking the thoughts that come— attacking you at nearly instantaneous moments. 

It’s Haseul’s. This is from Haseul’s shirt. What did Hongjoong say would happen? About the pigs? The pigs? Haseul? This is Haseul’s shirt? It can’t be. She’s in her room. She’s been in her room this whole time. This could belong to anyone. This could’ve been cut off of anyone’s shirt. It doesn’t have to be hers. It could be anyone’s. Why would it be hers? It isn’t possible. San said she was fine. He failed, but she was fine. Hongjoong said she was fine. Mingi said— what did he say? Did he say something? Anything? It doesn’t matter. San said—

“You shouldn’t be in here,” a familiar voice calls from behind you. 

You fall onto your butt, forgoing your pants. They were ruined, anyway. Clutching the cuff in your hand, you don’t even reply to Jongho’s warning. Your breathing is out of control, again. Each breath you take is tighter, harder, less satisfying, more panic inducing. The fabric in your hand burns with the tightness of your grip. 

Jongho grabs your shoulder. “Can you even hear me?” 

A fully-fledged sob leaves you as you look up at him. 

His eyebrows furrow in some emotion— probably disgust— as he frowns at you. “Get out of here.”

Shaking your head, you try to say even a single word about Hongjoong telling you to stay here, but you can’t get anything out. If anything, you cry harder, shaking your head back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, shutting your eyes as tightly as you can. 

This cannot be real. This can’t be happening. It can’t be Haseul’s shirt. Even if it is, it doesn’t mean that she’s—

No, you won’t even think it. You just keep shaking your head. It can’t be. It cannot be. 

Jongho’s hand leaves your shoulder.

“This is your punishment, (Y/n).” Hongjoong’s voice booms from behind you. It’s so shocking that you open your eyes, spinning around in the dirt to face him. He’s not alone. Seonghwa and San are with him, both of them looking incredibly uncomfortable. 

Seeing San doesn’t relieve you at all. Seonghwa’s face is puffy, his clothing disheveled and dirty. Neither of them look at you, instead looking at the ground in front of them. Jongho remains at your side, seemingly caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

You don’t know what Hongjoong means, though. Or, rather, your mind completely refuses to see what is in front of it until it is irrefutable. There is still hope, now. There is hope. The cuff doesn’t mean anything until Hongjoong says that it does. There is nothing in you that can accept this until… 

“Haseul is dead.” Hongjoong says. “And San killed her.” 

The wind is completely knocked out of your lungs as you fall onto your hands, heaving. 

Though you can’t see San, you can hear him. His protests are immediate, “What? Hongjoong, why would you say that? I didn’t do that. I didn’t even touch her. I swear, (Y/n), why would I lie—”

“Not to mention that he orchestrated your entire escape attempt at my request,” Hongjoong’s voice cuts through San’s pleas to be heard. 

The reminder calls you back into your body. Hongjoong had to say it in front of San, you realize, he had to make sure San knew that you knew of his betrayal. You look up at the three men in front of you as you gasp for air. The cuff lays in the dirt before you, momentarily forgotten. 

San is gaping at Hongjoong, his hands outstretched as if he was in the middle of trying to reach for you. “Are you fucking crazy?” San barely squeezes out in his apparent anger. 

“I am, in fact.” Hongjoong replies, though he doesn’t bother to address San. He smiles down at you instead, watching your facial expression change from one of despair to one of hatred. 

Your eye twitches as you stare at San, who starts to plead for you to hear him out once more. 

“I swear, (Y/n), it wasn’t like that! You heard him! He’s crazy! He only has something to gain if you don’t trust me, right? Why would I ever do that? I love you, you kno—” 

San had been crouching down to your level as he made this speech, which was probably a horrible idea. Using your hands as your leverage, you launch yourself at him, toppling him over into the dirt. 

Pinning him to the ground with your weight, you stare down at his (very surprised) face. 

It takes you all of five seconds to realize what you couldn’t in the past month. 

Hongjoong is right. Again. 

Your tears drip down onto his own face. San tries to speak, but evidently can’t think of anything to say to you. 

Hongjoong laughs at your side. 

You pull your hand back, bringing it back down and slapping San as hard as you can muster across his face. The smack rings through the barn, your hand stinging all the way up your forearm. 

San tries to clutch his cheek, but your knees keep his arms at his sides, and he instead looks up at you, stunned. 

“Say something.” You demand, finding your voice. 

He opens and closes his mouth, grasping for anything to say. “He’s lying to you— I swear it, I had nothing to do with Haseul, and I would never set you up, I would never, you can’t trust him, can’t trust anything that he says, (Y/n), really—” 

You hit him again. This time, he exclaims in pain as you feel your hand go numb. Seonghwa flinches in your peripheral vision and Hongjoong laughs once more.

“Fuck you.” You blink, more tears falling. “Fuck you.” You lean back, freeing his arms, which immediately come up to rest on your waist. “Hit me.” 

San’s face contorts, confused, “why would I hit you?” 

Absurdly, you smile. You smile wide. “Hit me. Do it.” You hit him in the chest, though lighter than you had his face. “What? Are you a coward? You can kill my best friend, but you can’t hit me?” Your voice raises, reaching a shrilling quality. “Come on! Hit me! Do anything!” 

San’s hands remain holding your waist, not moving. 

“Hit me so that I don’t fucking kill you! Hit me to show you at least think your miserable life is worth living! Hit me! Hit me! Hit me! Hi—”

“That’s really enough, (Y/n),” Seonghwa’s voice cuts in as he grabs your arm, keeping you from landing another blow to San’s chest. “You’re being childish.” 

You scoff, but it devolves into a laugh. “Childish? I’m being CHILDISH?” You wrench your hand out of Seonghwa’s grip. “Tell me, Seonghwa, please, how is someone supposed to react in this situation? What is the normal reaction? Enlighten me, please!” 

When Seonghwa doesn’t respond, you stand, turning your full attention to him. San’s hands easily slide off of you, though you remain hovering over him. He finally starts cradling his red cheeks. 

Seonghwa looms over you, his back to Hongjoong as he stares over his shoulder at you. You feel guilty for lashing out at Seonghwa, somehow, but it doesn’t stop you from fanning the flames. There’s nothing that could stop you, not in this moment, from bringing anyone else to your level. 

You make eye contact with Hongjoong, who has his arms crossed nonchalantly, an enormous smile on his face. You imagine that this night is just going peachy for him. Just how he wanted it to. Maybe, just maybe, you can ruin his fun. 

At Seonghwa’s expense. You hardly feel bad about it, though, as your eyes snap back to Seonghwa’s. 

“Without turning around, take a guess. Is Hongjoong watching you, his perfect little whore, or me, the spoiled brat who doesn’t behave?” 

Seonghwa sneers, a small laugh escaping him. Of course, he plays right into your hands. He exhales one shaky breath before grabbing your shoulders, using the grip to shove you as hard as he can, sending you falling back to the floor. You practically land on top of San, your legs resting over his waist, but you can only laugh. 

Seonghwa falls onto his knees in front of you, crawling until he can reach your legs. He grabs you by your calves, pulling you off of San until you’re practically underneath himself. You’re sure that he’s planning on strangling you, there’s a sweet little look in his eyes that tells you everything you need to know.

And you’re excited, you want him to kill you, you realize. Your laughing becomes intermixed with your sobbing as Seonghwa puts his weight on your stomach, the fury in his eyes blazing harder with each sound you make. 

Before you can truly get your way, though, San is grabbing Seonghwa by the back of his shirt, using all of his strength to pull him off of you. You hear the fabric rip as Seonghwa sprawls onto his back in front of you, and San takes the same position that Seonghwa had just had on you. 

You can’t find it in yourself to sit up, so you opt to just turn your head until you can see San. Vaguely, you can hear the sound of him hitting Seonghwa as you had just pleaded with him to do to you, and this only makes you cry harder. 

You turn your head in the opposite direction, and you’re greeted with the image of Hongjoong, still sitting contentedly. He glances down at you, but he doesn’t betray anything.

“Can’t you just kill me?” You whisper to him, hoping the others can’t hear it, “won’t you please just kill me?” 

Hongjoong frowns, then, slowly rising to his feet to come to your side. He holds his hand out, waiting for you to take it. 

You don’t at first, opting to continue looking pathetically up at him. From this angle, with the blurriness of your tears and the extreme perspective, Hongjoong really does look… ethereal. Angelic. Godly. Whatever the word is. You take his hand, allowing him to heave you into a sitting position just in time to see San land the punch that you’re sure breaks Seonghwa’s nose. 

It’s only in this moment that you realize San is screaming at Seonghwa, mostly incomprehensible phrases of anger. Seonghwa is trying to fight back, his hands clenching onto San’s shirt, slapping at his shoulders and face, thrashing underneath him, but San is too pissed to let any of it stop him. 

Hongjoong squats at your side, resting one of his knees on the floor. He doesn’t drop your hand, instead using it to pull you closer to him. He puts his face next to yours, making sure you’re watching the scene unfolding in front of you. 

“Doesn't this make you feel good? Seeing what San would do for you? Even after it’s all over?” He whispers so close that his breath tickles your ear. “It could always be like this. Everyone could love you like this.” 

Love? This is love? Your ploy to upset Hongjoong by including Seonghwa failed. If there isn’t love lost between the two of them, then what on earth about this is love?

Still, your heart skips a beat. 

You had completely forgotten (or, maybe, ignored) Jongho’s presence until Hongjoong turns to give him some sort of look that must tell him to stop whatever is going on. In the next moment, Jongho is resting a hand on San’s shoulder, barely having to pull at him to get him to cease his movements. 

Seonghwa turns his face toward you and Hongjoong, blood pouring from his nose and split lips. 

A sob escapes him, this time, before he turns to face the other direction. 

You really hadn’t meant for Seonghwa to get hurt from this. You just wanted to goad someone into giving you what you wanted, and he was easiest. You avert your eyes from him, wanting to give him the privacy he clearly desires. 

Hongjoong doesn’t care. He drops your hand, standing to go to Seonghwa. 

You look at San and Jongho. San is also sobbing, his knuckles torn to shreds in his lap. 

You don’t feel bad for him. You don’t feel anything for him. You’re sure the upset will come in the next few days. The bomb will drop, the emotions will explode, but now, in this moment, you couldn’t care less if he lived or died. 

Frankly, you couldn’t even care less about your own life. Haseul is dead. She’s dead. And she’s never coming back. You’ll never see her smile again, never text her that you’re bored at work, never hear her complain about her parents arguing again. Her parents. Her own parents. They’ll never see her again, and it’s your fault. Entirely. 

You look back at Seonghwa and Hongjoong just in time to see Seonghwa slap Hongjoong’s hand away from him, groaning as he turns his body to fully face away from his God. 

That can’t be a good sign. 

Hongjoong sighs, crossing his arms over his chest before turning on his heel to come back to you. 

Great. Just what you wanted. 

“Is she really dead?” You can’t help the question, squeezing your eyes shut as they fill with more tears. 

Hongjoong sits beside you, taking both of your hands in his this time. “She is.” 

“For how long?” You don’t open your eyes.

He takes a few seconds to answer, as if contemplating whether you should hear the truth or not. “She died the day she arrived.” 

You’re not sure if this is the best or the worst news that he could’ve given you. You’d believed lies for weeks, but at least she hadn’t been suffering the entire time, like you pictured. 

“Was it really San?” You still had a hard time believing it. Could San kill? Had you really shared a bed with him for over a month, not knowing that he had killed Haseul himself, believing that he hadn’t?

“No,” He admits, letting go of one of your hands, using his newly freed hand to rest on your cheek. You open your eyes, feeling your lips quivering with… every emotion on this goddamn planet. Anger. Fear. Sadness. Whatever. “Jongho killed her, and humanely at that. But San helped with the mess. I didn’t want it to be like this, (Y/n), I warned you.” 

And what could you say. He warned you. Very plainly. And you had disobeyed him. And look at what it cost. 

Hongjoong moves his hand away from your face, using it to wrap around you and pull you back into a hug. 

There's nothing to do anymore. Nothing to say. You cry into his shoulder, finally wrapping your own arms around him in acceptance. 

He rocks you, there, on the ground. “It might be hard to understand now, (Y/n), but everything I do, I do for you.” 

You nod. “Please don't make me see him again.” 

Hongjoong knows who. He strokes your head, smoothing your hair, “Of course, love. Of course.” 

Though you know that this is all because of Hongjoong, you still find his words comforting, his embrace grounding. You squeeze him tighter to you, appreciating the feeling of having at least one person on your side. He’s right, he’s so right, you can’t trust anyone else, not when this is how it turns out. 

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[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression Ep 49 - Ioka Kazuto's New Years Eve tattoo problem.

K: Hi, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru with this week's episode of The Freedom of Expression. Joe san, Tasai san, welcome again this week.

T: What is the celebratory sake for?

K: Well, this is our first recording of the new year..

J: Yes

T: Happy New Year

J: Happy New Year. By the time this is broadcast it will already be well into January though.

K: Yes, so..for good luck.

J: Ah, that would be welcome....but Im not gonna drink it.

K: Why?

J: Um, I've said this a few times before, but my resolution for 2021 is to not go so crazy when drinking alcohol, to not get too carried away.

T: Hahaha

J: I've already decided on it.

K: Don't you always say that?

J: No, no, no. Um, recently...was it on the 27th? After the live broadcast? I left afterwards with Tasai.

T: Oh, yeah.

J: We left together, we got a taxi. Then when I arrived home, it was about 2am, right? When I tried to get in my house, I didn't have my keys.

T, K: Eh?!

T: Really??

J: I didn't have my keys..what could I do? I think i actually left them somewhere before i arrived here, and I hadn't been drinking before that. But in the end, I went to a hotel in my neighborhood...like, please let me stay here, I'll pay so please let me stay. So, I woke up the next day and called the real estate agent to ask if they had a spare key..they didn't. They said they'd given all the keys to me. So, I called around a few other places, and by about lunch time I managed to get hold of a key. But I had to go and do a live radio broadcast in this kind of messed up state, so..

T: Eh?!

J: Well, I mean, it wasn't the fault of alcohol this time, but I have lost my pocket wifi before while I was drunk, and my glasses...and Im constantly telling dirty jokes while drunk...so this year..., well, I will drink alcohol, but Im not gonna go wild.

T: Hahaha

K: Thats impossible!

J, T: Hahaha

Kami: Joe san, Joe san...

J: Oh, Kami? What is it? Kami's here.

Kami: Joe, you've become a boring guy.

J, T: Hahaha

Kami: You're trying to play it safe.

J: No, no, no. Can I really carry on? Drinking and going crazy this year too?

Kami: You need to be free. Please don't hold yourself back.

J: Haha 

T: When we were going home in the taxi, you said, 'I think I've messed up'...

J: I was doing a bit of self-reflecting.

T: Your true voice slipped out.

J: I think it did.

K: What? Why, what happened again?

T: Yeah, what was it again?

J: Well, I think it was me just going a bit wild. It felt like I got carried away.

T: You felt that in yourself?

J: Well, I do, don't I? When I drink alcohol?

K: Well, yeah.

J: Kaoru, we've done a lot of events together, right?

K: Yeah, most of the time I'm like, 'Joe, calm down!'

J: And Im supposed to be the moderator!

T: You change places!

J: Right!

K: Also, he had to read out things written in Katakana and stuff, but he couldn't read the difficult words*1

J: There are a few reasons for that. After I've had a drink, I can't read difficult kanji, and also I have bad eyesight. Katakana has loads of spaces in it, right?

T: Maybe we should have let Tasai do it.

T: Yeah, I should have done the reading.

J: Kanji just turns into clumps.

K: Ok, well, today...Tasai, could you get us started?

T: Yes, this is about the big match on last New Years Eve. Its boxing news. It was the WBO super flyweight title match between Ioka Kazuto and Tanaka Kōsei. Ioka won the match, but this news deals with a slightly different aspect. Ioka's tattoos were visible during the match. The boxing commission have said this is a violation of the rules, and are considering imposing a penalty. Questions have been arising on social media like, 'Isn't this a mistake?', and, 'What about individual freedom?' Did you watch the match, Kaoru?

K: No, I didn't, but I saw it on the news.

T: Yeah. And, Ioka had actually covered his tattoos with foundation to hide them before getting in the ring, but sweating made the foundation come off.

J: I see.

T: So, its become a bit of a talking point, what to think about this.

K: This isn't the first time he's done this, right? He covered his tattoos before in other fights?

T: Yeah, to stop the foundation coming off he...

K: But foundation?...can you really hide them with foundation?

J: Haha, yeah, maybe not. They are too solid. So, he went ino the ring without foundation this time?

T: No, he had it on, but it came off with sweat.

J: Wouldn't that happen anyway?

K: If it did, that means its come off everytime up to now.

J: Right? Its not like its only come off this time. Its hard to understands why the JBC are raising this problem only now?

T: Well, its in the rules. The rules for matches are...in the rulebook, Match management section 4, conditions for boxers article 86, it says for things that make spectators feel uncomfortable, such as tattoos...if a boxer has tattoos, they must not appear in the ring.

J: Oh, thats written?

T: Yes, thats written in the rules. There have been cases in the past of boxers getting tattoos surgically removed in order to be able to compete in the ring.

J: Im not sure about this. Feeling uncomfortable just by seeing a tattoo...?

K: Regular people do though, don't they?

J: Do they?

K: Not people like us here, regular people are different.

J: Haha, of course.

K: But its Japanese people...foreigners have seen tattoos as pretty normal for quite a long time.

J: Right. Their police even have tattoos.

K: But we havn't got there in Japan yet. They are still thought of as scary. Even me, if I see someone with tattoos walk in, I don't say anything to them, but I do notice and look at them if they have tattoos.

J: Well..

K: You look though, right?

J: Well, I would think 'oh, they have tattoos'.

K: Yeh, but you would say ????*2

J: Well...

K: You would!

J: Would I? But...this is boxing, right? The spectators have come to watch people hitting each other.

K: Well, yeah, thats right.

J: For example, if a kabuki actor suddenly revealed tattoos all over their body, I have a feeling it wouldn't go down well with people who are going to see traditional arts, but if they are going to see people punching each other, would they be that bothered about tattoos?

K: Its because the rules havn't changed since a long time ago.

J: Yeah. Hmm, Im not sure about this. What's it like overseas?

T: Its totally fine overseas.

J: Its ok, right?

K: They don't mind if foreigners have them.

J: Ah, foreign boxers with tattoos are allowed to fight in Japan?

T: Yes.

K: So I think this is good. It could change how we do things *3

J: Yeah, it creates a stir, because there are quite a lot of people who know about this old rule. Um, even at events and stuff (I MC at a lot of events), some guests are instructed to wear long sleeeves when they attend. This is what Japan is like with tattoos.

T: But I think I read somwhere that the NBA also has the rule to cover tattoos. Like, they will wear armbands and stuff to cover them.

K: Even in baseball, the Giants have banned facial hair.

J: Have they?

T: The Giants have an unwritten code, let me think who had a beard....do you remember Ogasawara Michihiro/Gatz?

J: Oh yeah, the left handed player?

T: Yeah, when he joined the Giants he shaved it all off etc. That type of thing still happens, even now. Have a look next time the Giants play, none of them have facial hair.

J: I don't think foreign players will like these rules that Japanese have. This seems like its against the Constitution. It really does.

Kami: Its discrimination, right?

J: Yes, I agree.

Kami: Nishinari people are sensitive to discrimination.

J: Yeah, I mean, if they are gonna have this rule, they should ban tattoos for everyone in boxing, but to say its ok for foreign boxers but not Japanese ones.. its a bit...

Kami: Its unconstitutional. Its discrimination.

J: Yeh, I think its discrimination. But looking at some of the comments, some say that although its written in the rules, it can't be helped these days.

Kami: Its not fair though, letting Ioka get this incredible win, and then afterwards saying, actually, no.

T: Yes, thats right.

Kami: When I was younger I won at pachinko..

J: Haha, all of a sudden..

Kami: I had quite a babyface, and would get mistaken for being underage. They never said anything to me when I lost...

T: But when you handed in your tickets they told you no because you're underage?

Kami: Yeah, yeah. Even though they said nothing to me when I was losing. Its like they come to stop you after you start winning.

T: I see.

Kami: They will take all the benefits, but when it starts to get unfavorable...I sense that unfairness.

T: Ah, yeh. Well, its true that the boxing commission already knew that Ioka had tattoos. And they asked him to take part.

J: Yeah. Its not like he got the tattoos right before this match.

T: Thats right. Incidentally, he got this particular tattoo in America in 2018, September, to show resovle and determination for his comeback fight. And this time, he has also added his son's name as if to say 'lets fight together'.

J: Oh, thats a nice meaning....Sue them!

T: Sue them?

J: Yes, Tokyo Sports should sue them.

T: Why just us? haha. We should together.

J: ???*4

K: I wonder how this will turn out though.

J: Yeah. Is Ioka following the boxing commission then?

T: He is still waiting to see what they decide.

J: Ah, ok.

T: He is still waiting for their judgment.

J: So like, it will depend on the level of punishment he gets.

K: They'll just say its the rules.

T: In that case, he might just go to America, if he can't fight any matches in Japan.

J: Well, yeah.

T: I think this would be a bigger problem if it happened outside the ring. But its happened within the ring. Its still a fact that tattoos are seen as scary in this culture.

K: It seems so to me, speaking as a person who has tattoos.

J: Thats what you have felt from experience?　Exactly.

K: But you could say that he knew this when he got the tattoos. He knew they would tell him to stop.

T: Like, boxers definitely understand this.

K: He knows it, but he is still appearing in the ring, so if he has determination and resolve, its great. If he doesn't, its no surprise if he gets complaints.

J, T: I see.

J: Well, considering he did try to hide it, but the covering just came off, I wonder what will happen. Its not like he can wear clothes over it, right?

K: He could have put tape on it.

J: Oh, right, you can hide it like that too?

T: Yeah, there might be something like skin coloured tape.

J: Kami, can we have a last word from you on this?

Kami: Well, whatever the rules, making them only apply to Japanese is strange, right?

J: Well, yes, thats true. We'll have to keep a look out for what happens with this from now on.

K: Well, yeh.

T: To see how it develops, yeh.

K: Yeah. Kami seemed a bit lacking in vitality today, didn't he?

J: Yeah, he seems down. Kami, did something happen to you at new year time?

Kami: No, no, Im fine! Don't I sound it?

K: You sound like you are lacking a bit of punch.

J: With it being boxing, you'd expect him to have more 'punch'.

K: He just seemed a bit...regular.

J: Yeah.

Kami: Regular? haha.

K: He's laughing, haha.

T, J: Haha

J: The staff are making me laugh.

K: Ok, shall we finish here for today?

J: Yes

K: Ok, please subscribe. Thank you very much.

*1, 3 Not sure this is right.

*2, 4 Couldn't make out

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[uoongs]

[translation] MXTX Interview - TGCF questions

this is rlly for everyone to love hc more TT // split by general/book1, book 3 spoilers, and book 5 spoilers via headings (though all are minor spoilers imo, except for the one in bk 5?)

there’s another question that pertains to TGCF’s comments, which I found interesting but have left out for now because it’s very very long. it’s half translated, so maybe i’ll finish it later

CW: domestic violence, Q.21 suicidal thoughts

the mdzs parts were prev translated here by @bigbadredpanda

original interview here

reposts and translations OK, but pls give credit!! twt @/uooongs, tumblr @uoongs, ig @/duoj1ao

GENERAL / BOOK 1 REFERENCES

Q14. TGCF characters’ heights?

Xie Lian 178cm (but can perfectly seem like 180), Hua Chen 190 (first appearance as a cute fresh youth was 185cm), Jun Wu 191, Feng Xin 188, Mu Qing 188, Mo Shui 189, Shi Wudu 187, Shi Qinxuan 186 (woman form 176), Pei Ming 188, Ling Wen 180, Quan Yizhen 184 (but has a very tall presence), Yin Yu 186 (but miraculously no matter how tall he is it’s hard to notice this person).

PS: Yu Shi [rain master?]’s cow is 150 without standing up

Q17. What was XL doing after his second time getting banished to the human realm? What was HC doing? Why couldn’t he find XL? HC previously swore to not let XL know he’s protecting him, so why did he decide to meet XL again after 800 years?

XL tried doing other jobs, but all didn’t go too well, and would bring sadness/strife to others, so could only collect trash by himself.

HC was looking for him while also working on his skills + earning money, expanding his power, and worked hard to become the strongest dude!

Really, it was because XL’s luck was so terrible and stuck to him so closely that he couldn’t meet HC. Actually, many times they almost saw each other, like in Banyue, and also when XL was Fangxin head priest, but both times they just missed each other. Finally XL ascended by himself and CEO Hua couldn’t contain himself and rushed over.

T/N:

strongest dude: the word here used is “jiahuo” 家伙 which is an informal, sometimes affectionate way of calling someone, kind of like “brat” ? but without the parental figure tone

CEO Hua: 花总 “hua zong” the zong here is used as a suffix of respect, usually used for business partners/ ppl holding business positions

Q18. When they first met again, why did HC not let XL touch him?

Because he loved and respected him. He was scared he’d get too excited and do something wrong. Later, the reason was that sometimes if he thought he made a mistake, like not protecting Dianxia well, he would not let himself touch his idol. Even if he wanted to a lot, he wouldn’t let himself touch, because it’s his own punishment for himself.

Q19. What did XL like doing as a kid? Did he whine like a kid?

He liked going on swings, calligraphy, drawing, reading books most people wouldn’t read, building and knocking over golden toy block houses. Whined a lot, and would insist on sleeping with his parents. So when he stopped whining like that the king didn’t find him as cute.

T/N: the “whine” here is the best English equivalent as far as I know, but perhaps you’re more familiar with the term “aegyo”? lol. Original word is 撒娇 “sa jiao”

Q20. Where did HC’s name and San Lang come from?

Why Hua Cheng, only he himself would know, since names are based on intuition and he didn’t tell me anything. San Lang was firstly because he was actually the third child at home, secondly because he fell during the third lap during the Offering to the Gods parade, thirdly because BLABLABLABLA many reasons to guess. Being the third seme of the novels is also an interesting Easter egg, but that wasn’t the main reason. Just as why Lan Wangji is Lan Er-Gege, or why Qiu Chi is called Si Shao, one can find many fitting explanations in the novel.

T/N:

BLABLABLABLA is actually what appeared in MXTX’s response lol

Qiu Chi 秋迟 is the name of a character (not sure MC or ML) for her next novel, and Si Shao 四少 means fourth, or fourth child/youth ?

“Offering to the Gods ceremony” translation is taken from Sakhyulations translation! https://www.sakhyulations.com/novel/heaven-officials-blessing/chapter-1/ bless them uwu

Q22. Why did HC not have confidence in his looks?

Because he was always told he was ugly, a monster, etc as a kid, so there was a deep “I’m ugly” impression of himself. Later he started suspecting that “maybe I’m kind of good looking”. But before the person he likes the most, he would still instinctively be self-deprecating, and sometimes will wonder if he’s an ugly person.

Q24. Why did XL give himself the surname “Hua”? 

Because he likes flowers, and used to be called the Flower Crown Martial God. Also, in the initial character sketch, when XL was banished he became a flower god, in charge of flowers’ blooming and wilting.

T/N: The word for “wilt”, amazingly, is 花谢 “hua xie” which is HC’s surname + XL’s surname (!!!). Also is the fake name XL used in Banyue, and the surname he gave to HC in the amnesia extra.

Q27. When will edits be made on TGCF?

Edits have already started, and when they’re done they will all be added with an announcement. Because it’s a long process, and because JJ has inconvenient limits on edits, Iwon’t know when. Not sure if it’ll be before or after the fourth novel. Also will depend on novel adaptations (of prev novels) and how the fourth book goes.

Q28. Will there be more extras for TGCF?

I’ve been wanting to write a human realm commoner storybook, a collection of short fairytales.

BOOK 3 SPOILERS

Q15. Where was Hualian’s first time? Does Hua Chen know that Xie Lian made the first move in kissing him in Qiandeng temple?

Huangji temple in Taicang mountain! HC didn’t know at first, but later Huahua teased it out + closely interrogated it out of XL.

Q16. What was the last mural and the lying down sculpture of XL in Wanshengku (hundred thousand-gods temple)?

It was that you know. That.

T/N: papapapapapa

Q21. Why did HC always have bandages on his face as a child? Why did he fall from the building? Why was he always getting bullied but still physically very strong/healthy?

He was always beaten up because his right eye is red. Others thought it was scary, and his face had a lot of scars that had to be covered;

One day he was beaten up so much that he wanted to kill himself, and also he’s a very bratty and petty kid, so when he heard there’s going to be a Offering to the Gods ceremony -- which if went wrong will bring strife to the whole country -- he especially chose that day to ruin the ceremony. As in, “if I’m unlucky and having a hard time, I want this entire country to die with me”. But he ended up climbing up there saw his wife and was shook, so he forgot to kill himself. But because he wanted to see more clearly, wanted to be closer so badly, he accidently fell off. 

He is just very tenaciously surviving! He’s strong like XL, won’t die even after getting beaten up hundreds of times, and forever will be able to hold onto a last breath and crawl back up again to return, against fate.

Q23. What did Mu Qing say when he drove HC away?

MQ just speaks like that...like, you brat are not even useful to Taizi Dianxia, you’ll only weigh him down, the army doesn’t need trash like you, don’t think you actually have talent! etc. Also because in the army the youths’ death rate is actually quite high, so MQ didn’t think he was doing anything wrong in driving HC away.

BOOK 5 SPOILERS

Q25. So is Shi Qinxuan a human now? Will his hands and leg ever recover? If he reincarnated, would he still have a hard life? Is Shi Wudu really gone? What did Mo Shui take the water master’s head for? What did he say to Shi Qinxuan on Moshui island at the end?

SQX is human. He can’t recover, and he doesn’t want to. Heavenly Officials won’t reincarnate. SWD is gone for good. The head was used for an oblation. He didn’t say anything in the end, because SQX was very out of it, so even if he said something SQX wouldn’t be able to understand.

T/N: To refer to SWD MXTX uses 15° (15 degrees) because phonetically it sounds like SWD’s name.

[jokertrap-ran]

BAD MEDICINE ~Infectious teachers~ [PC GAME] Nagihara Taiki (Mathematics) Route Translations (Good END)

MC’s name is retained as the original MC name Kawana Hina.

* Words within ‘   ‘ are spoken in English – *Spoiler free : Translations under cut!

Prologue / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5/ Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Bad END / Ruin END / Doll END / Good END

Hina: Sensei! ...Nagihara-sensei!

Nagihara: …………!

Hina: Please wait! Won't you hear me out just a little…?

Nagihara: ...It's against the school regulations to run in the corridors, Kawana-san.

Nagihara: You're someone who's being subjected to Special Guidance. Or would you rather be expelled?

Hina: Haa...Haa, Haa…! I-I apologize…But I'll take any punishments for violating the school rules later.

Hina: So hear me out! You're wrong. I think you're misunderstanding something here.

Nagihara: I'm misunderstanding something? What do you mean by that?

Hina: You said that your own father was nothing but trash.

Nagihara: ...Did I say something of that sort? I don't really remember but yes, what of it?

Hina: You're nothing like your father at all!

Nagihara: I thought you had something worth listening to for a second but this is just plain ridiculous.

Nagihara: Besides, haven't I told you to stop stepping into the private matters of others?

Nagihara: ...You don't even know me in the first place so what are you to say anything about me?

Hina: I know that you're really just a kind person at heart!

Nagihara: ……How shameless. Is that your way of flattering me?

Hina: No. I’m saying this because I only came to love mathematics after I met you! Even though it was a subject I was really weak at!

Nagihara: I really didn’t think that my words would get to you considering how you were struggling with an exercise book of mathematical problems whilst in tears.

Hina: I do feel frustrated every once in a while, not being able to solve it… But I won’t stop because it’s fun.

Hina: Of course, the guidance was terrifying and it’s not a good feeling to get yelled at when you’re angry but...

Hina: I’m starting to think that I don’t fancy being scolded in that manner anymore.

Hina: So I think I’ll meet those expectations of yours to prevent that from happening. I’ll do my best before I can get scolded!

Nagihara: ………...

Hina: And… You’ve also been patiently encouraging me whenever I can’t solve a problem.

Hina: And you’ve even made an exercise book of mathematical problems specially for me this time!

Nagihara: That was only because you’re dumber than dumb...

Hina: You were about to chase me off and I who knows, you might have just expelled me from school, but you never did.

Hina: You were the one who taught me how fun it is to face my issues… So, that’s why...

Hina: That’s why I wanted to score 100 marks no matter what I had to do for your sake!

Hina: I was really happy to hear that you were expecting things from me. So...I’m really sorry that I betrayed your expectations.

Nagihara: You’re really... --Haa...

Nagihara: ………... Please raise your head.

Hina: (...Huh…? He’s smiling?)

Nagihara: Listen well. It’s actually an incredible feat to be the top scorer for mathematics in this school.

Nagihara: You ought to feel prouder of your achievement. There’s no need for you to pull that miserable face when you look at those 99 marks you’ve gotten.

Hina: Sensei...

Nagihara: I know best how hard you worked for those 99 marks.

Nagihara: You’ve really worked hard.

Hina: (This feels like a dream… He’s actually...Smiling gently and patting my head…)

Nagihara: It’s not a bad thing at all, praising someone like that.

Hina: I thought you’d have completely given up on me… And be utterly disappointed in me this time...

Nagihara: I was indeed annoyed. I was annoyed by how you clenched your teeth and continued try to solve the questions you could never attain the answers to.

Nagihara: I always thought that you should just give up since you can’t solve them no matter how hard you try.

Nagihara: Yet...You never once gave up. I thought it was incredibly ludicrous.

Nagihara: It was just as if I was looking… at my past self.

Hina: Your past...self?

Nagihara: My father’s an individual who only holds interest in mathematics. He never did care for me when my older brother was still alive. My brother was a genius.

Nagihara: However, when my brother died young.. My father finally faced me for the first time in my life and found himself utterly disappointed at my abilities.

Nagihara: Some call it despair. He told me that I would be better off dead instead of my brother for the sake of the mathematical world.

Hina: That’s so mean of him...

Nagihara: But there was nothing else I could do at that time other than to cling to mathematics with all my life.

Nagihara: My brother… He could freely manipulate those beautiful figures and he respected my father.

Nagihara: I still didn’t manage to reach the same heights my brother had attained no matter how hard I tried.

Hina: (The praise he gave me earlier… I’m sure that was something he had yearned to hear from his father himself...)

Hina: (He’d always wanted his father to praise him for those 99 marks he got through all the hard work he put in...)

Hina: (And he bestowed those words upon me...They were so important to him...)

Hina: I thought that 1 and 99 marks were the same because they weren’t a 100 marks. I was really depressed because I thought that there was no meaning to me obtaining 99 marks.

Hina: But...I guess I want to be happy about these 99 marks I got now.

Nagihara: Yes. I think...That those 99 marks you’ve gotten are more worthy than a 100.

Nagihara: Thank you. I think I can forgive my past a little more now.

Hina: Sensei...

Nagihara: --However, it’s still too early to be lax.

Hina: Wha…?

Nagihara: I’ll give you ample remedials to cover that 1 mark you’ve lost. Do you hear me?

Hina: Yes! I’ll be in your care and I’ll do my best…!!

Hina: So...I have to substitute X here and... Like this?

Nagihara: Yes, that’s correct.

Hina: Yay! I did it!! I finally solved it!! I’m so happy because I was stressing out over it ever since yesterday!

Nagihara: Good work. It’s great that you managed to clear it, if anything.

Hina: Oh! There's still another question I’d like to ask you regarding.

Nagihara: I did tell you to try solving this exercise book of mathematical problems to test your skills but… It seems like this is more a problem of familiarity than your actual skills itself.

Hina: S-Sorry! I know that this has nothing to do with class but I feel troubled not being able to solve it.

Nagihara: You’re really a stubborn individual. Really, don’t you get tired of doing this every day?

Nagihara: Oblivious to the feelings of others… I might even be jealous of mathematics one day when it comes down to it.

Hina: Hm? Did you just say something?

Nagihara: ...No, nothing.

Hina: Oh! There it is. It’s this one here.

Nagihara: I see...You’ve done quite a fair bit of it but it’s all just a misunderstanding. May I?

Hina: Eh? Oh…!

Hina: (Sensei? That’s my pen you’re holding…)

Nagihara: It will be -1 < a < 0 over here and the largest portion will be -2 a + b + 1. Which means-

Hina: (Didn’t he say that it felt disgusting to be holding the pens of others? Maybe he hasn’t realized…?)

Nagihara: …? What’s the matter? Are you listening to me?

Hina: I’m listening!

Nagihara: So, were you lying when you told me you didn’t know how to solve this? You seem lax enough to be staring so intently at my face.

Hina: It wasn’t a lie or anything! The question was really hard so there were many things I couldn’t understand,

Nagihara: Oh? What a coincidence, me too.

Hina: Huh…?

Nagihara: I can’t help but to return that gaze of yours for your face turns red whenever I do so. It’s really amusing to watch.

Nagihara: My heart goes wild thanks to that and the numbers don’t exactly wish to stay within the confines of my head.

Hina: T-That’s just! You’re...lying aren’t you.

Nagihara: Indeed, it was just a joke.

Hina: Hey! Don’t make a fool out of me!

Nagihara: Hehe. Let’s carry on then.

Nagihara: Okay? Please follow what I have to say closely.

Hina: (He’s so mean! He does that even know he knows that it sends my heart into a frenzy and I can’t concentrate!)

Hina: (I guess this is fine… I can return his advances a little bit at a time…)

Nagihara: 2a+b+1. Which means X=1. The minimum value of X=a so--

Hina: (I’ll just keep the issue about the pen a secret for now.)

[poubelle-squelette]

I hope you don’t mind me combining these asks. 

Kinda long, so it’s under the cut.

“did you sit on a pile of sugar?”

“Pfft, what?”

“cuz you got a sweet ass,” Sans said with an exaggerated wink.

You actually turned to look at him head on, eyebrow raised. “Huh, really, that’s your best line? Guess you’re maybe not as pervy as I thought,” you said, nonchalantly dismissing his advances. You turned back to the kitchen counter and continued cutting vegetables.

“what? you want pervy? i can be pervy,” Sans said as he approached you from behind, gently grinding his pelvis into you. he spoke lowly into your ear, “we should play strip poker, you strip ‘nd i'll poke ya.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“heh, does that ruin my chances of gettin into yours?”

You laughed then. A tinkling, genuine laugh.

“yer voice is gorgeous, but i think it’d sound better muffled ‘round my dick.”

You really howled with laughter then. “Aw, geez Sans, should I be flattered? Have you actually maybe <i>fallen</i> for me?” You rubbed your ass into his pelvis. “Can your come-ons wait until I’m done making dinner?”

Sans reached around your midsection and popped the button to your jeans open. He reached into your panties. “nah, i think i'd rather eat out tonight anyway.”

“Hah, you’re so bad. I may just have to punish you.”

Fuck. Yes.

In Sans’s bedroom now. He’s in bed, can’t remember how he got here or when he got undressed, but he couldn’t move. You were over him, naked except for the deep scarlet lace panties, giving him bedroom eyes. You raised your hand.

Were you gonna hit him? Slap him? Spit on him? Use a whip? Cane? He closed his eyes in anticipation, waiting for the beautiful pain.

You cupped the side of his face gently and used your thumb to rub his cheek tenderly. You leaned in and placed soft kiss after soft kiss on his skull. Your hands delicately moved from his face to his sternum. Fingertips danced up and down the bone, tickling him. You continued your kisses as your fingers worked on the bone.

“whaddya doin?”

“Just trust me,” you murmured. “You trust me, right?”

…yes. But it wasn’t like Sans was going to admit that out loud. He just lay there, in bed, confused. Why weren’t you being mean? Where was the anger? Don’t you hate him? You’re supposed to be hurting him. He’s supposed to be hurting you.

Maybe…he had to antagonize you a bit first.

“fuck you and your stupid trust.”

You hummed and didn’t stop. Fingers gently hooked around his ribs, eliciting a low moan from Sans.

“you’re a bitch.”

You ignored him as you began kissing his neck and let the flat of your tongue lick the many crevices where bone met bone.

“a fucking cunt.”

You didn’t stop. Sans felt every kiss burn him from the inside out. It was a torture he’d never experienced before. He trembled as your fingers stroked each rib slowly, carefully, like you were worried about hurting him.

He was glowing.

You didn’t even look surprised to see the soft glow emitting from within him, but Sans wanted to die.

“why dontcha hate me.”

You only smiled.

“you’re s’posed to fuckin hate me.”

You reached in. Fingers were so close. Sans pushed himself further and further into the mattress. This wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to pin you down and get you to deepthroat him. He wanted you to smack him around a little. He wanted this to be meaningless.

Heh. Your hands around his soul now. The sensation of you holding it overwhelmed Sans. “put it down!” he shouted. “i fuckin hate ya! get away from me. i'm broken. you don’t fuckin want me.”

“I love you.”

“no ya don’t.”

You held the soul in your hands like it was the most precious thing in the world. You gently pet it with the pads of your fingers. “I love you, Sans.”

“stop it. you’re lyin.”

“I love you so much,” you whispered, bringing his soul up your lips and kissing that too. “Take mine too, if you want it.” 

“don’t tempt me. i'll ruin ya.”

You kept hold of his soul in one palm and took his hand into your other. You guided his hand to your chest. “I wouldn’t trust anyone else with it but you.”

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

Is this what it means to be happy.

Is this what it’s like to be truly loved.

Why.

Why are you doing this.

Just go away.

He’ll fuck it up.

He’ll ruin you.

He hates you.

He loves you.

Do you even understand what you just offered.

His fingers curled. Please, if there was a god out there, let him have this. This one thing so close to his grasp.

Purple.

You were purple.

You were crying. He was crying.

The scene melted away.

Outside now, in public. Sans didn’t even know where you were walking, just that you held his hand tightly in yours because you didn’t give a fuck about what everyone else said. “C’mon you slowpoke,” you said over your shoulder. You smiled brightly at him and squeezed tighter. “I love you, but my God you’re slow. Gotta keep up with me.”

Melt.

On the couch. He was laying on top of you, head resting on your chest. Fuck, you were soft. His hand was intertwined with yours. You pressed a kiss to his skull. “I love you, Sans.”

Melt.

Back in the kitchen. You were back to cutting veggies. Sans was on the kitchen counter. You kept stopping to lean over and kiss him.

So domestic.

So stupid.

“Careful, you smile like that too much and your face may stay that way. Can’t have Edge Mc My Chemical Romance out there smiling like he’s the poster child for Sesame Street.

Melt.

In bed. You were laying down this time, Sans straddling you. You were laughing. He was tickling you. He stopped and flopped on top of you. “I love you,” you said, wrapping yourself around him as best as you could.

Sans didn’t say anything.

“You’re glowing again.”

“can’t help it.”

That was his way of saying he loved you too.

--

BEEP BEEP BEEP

“ughh….”

Sans opened his eyes.

A dream. Of course it was a stupid dream. He reached up. Tears. “fuck this shit.” He got out of bed and threw on some shoes. No point in getting dressed. He didn’t care today.

He walked out of his apartment so he could go to work. As he was leaving, you were also exiting your apartment.

“Hey Sans! Good morning!”

“fuck you.”

You looked taken aback. “Who the fuck pissed in your Cheerios this morning?”

“fuck off, get out of my fuckin face,” Sans said, walking past you.

“What the fuck did I do to get on your shit list today?!” you hollered back at him. “You know what, forget it. Fuck you!”

“fuck you!” he shouted without looking back.

How dare she, he thought to himself. How dare she make me feel like this.

God.

He hated her.

…

Sans zipped up his jacket.

He was glowing.