#and I wish I could more freely enjoy things made by others without having an internal bitchfit because “tHaT's nOt hOw eYe wOuLd dO iT”

[hunter-sylvester]

i am a grumpy asshole and that is a me-problem

[jeneveuxrein]

kiss and make up (BLACKPINK Rosé)

word count: 10.1K

(posted right when the clock hits midnight in seoul, i hope everyone enjoys)

tw: brief depiction of sexual assault and actual assault

-- -- --

You watch her slip her dress on, blonde hair swept to the side as she reaches for her zipper. 

“Let me,” The blanket slides down your stomach, resting on your waist as you sit behind her. You slowly bring the zipper up, kissing her softly on her shoulder as she straightens the fabric. “Do you have to go?” You murmur, lips tasting her skin, the audible sigh coming from her body. 

“I do,” Rosie nods, straightening her hair to fall freely along her back. Her head turns slightly, “You know I can’t stay. He’s expecting me.” 

“Are you going to have sex with him?” The question comes out harsher than you intended. 

“Stop,” Rosie scoffs, shaking her head as she stands. “We haven’t done that.”

Yet, you add quietly for her in your head. 

Neither of you say anything else as Rosie reaches for the ring on the nightstand, slipping it on her finger. 

You’d love nothing more than to toss that offending piece of jewelry into the Han River. Hell, you’d fly over the Pacific Ocean and drop it where no one could find it. 

Because if Rosie was ever going to get a ring, it was supposed to be from you. 

“Are you going this weekend?” Rosie asks, placing your clothes on the bed. 

You nod reluctantly, as if you had a choice about the event taking place this weekend. 

It’s the annual gala for the wealthy and affluent of Seoul. Your family along with Rosie’s are attending. Her father will be saying a few words, which you’re sure that his youngest daughter’s engagement will be announced as well. 

“You’re not going to leave him, are you?” It’s a rhetorical question, one you wish had a different answer. 

“It’s not that simple,” Rosie rolls her eyes. You’ve known her long enough to learn her tells, and this being one that she’s tired from having the same conversation.

“It’s been a year,” You point out, reaching for your shirt. “You’re engaged now, Chaeng. It seems pretty clear that this isn’t going to continue.” 

The thing with you and Rosie is that neither of you wanted to be in this position. You were born into this, this being a stupid rivalry between your fathers. You were raised to hate each other, attending the same schools, competing for the top of the class while juggling the pressures from the public eye. 

Being part of Seoul’s elite made you want nothing more than to leave as soon as you finished at one of the most prestigious universities in the country. You wanted to live abroad, working for someone without having your last name be the reason you were hired. 

You couldn’t, as much as you tried. You were set to inherit the family business, even though your older sister, Jisoo, was much more capable and wanted to. The multiple arguments you’ve had with your father fell on deaf ears because you were the only son and naturally, you were next in line. 

Rosie, on the other hand, wasn’t set to inherit anything except for a cushion that would support her for the rest of her life while her older sister, Alice, ran the company. 

It wasn’t easy for her either since her father wanted Rosie to marry someone of equal status, ultimately expanding the Park name into other industries. 

When Rosie was introduced to Wonwoo, you knew that was who her father had in mind. 

God forbid it be you. 

As much as you two acted like you hated each other growing up, one night after a charity event three years ago was where things unfolded. 

Having drunk a little more than usual at these types of events, you confided over the shared misery of your families and why everyone just couldn’t get along. Besides that, you found out how much you had in common, sharing the same interests and similar values that sparked what led into something that neither of you were prepared for. 

You don’t remember who kissed who first, but that didn’t matter since you both ended up in your bed, spending the night together and realizing that this was the person you wanted to spend all your nights and mornings with. 

You’re in love with Rosie, and she’s in love with you. 

It’s tragic, really, at the end of the day. 

Neither of your families would approve. The media would have a field day if the secret, forbidden relationship got out. You’ve imagined the headlines countlessly throughout the course of the relationship of how the media would tear you apart about two major business conglomerates’ children dating.

If not them, then your parents. 

The only people that know of your affair are your siblings, Jennie, and Lisa. Though, the relationship between the latter have their own complexities that you couldn’t fathom. 

“What’re you saying?” Rosie asks, crossing her arms, even though she knows exactly what you’re implying. 

“We can’t do this anymore,” You say softly, tears pricking your eyes. It kills you to say that out loud, but that’s your reality. You might be meant to be together, but there’s too many things weighing on you that you don’t think you could survive. Hearing Rosie publicly engaged to Jeon Wonwoo is at the top of the list.

“What?” You’re not surprised by her reaction. You’ve had a soft spot for her and she’s always gotten her way with you, but seeing that on her finger changes things. “You can’t be serious.” 

“I am,” You frown, avoiding her gaze. Sure, it’s a bit messed up after what you just did together, but it’s even more messed up that Rosie showed up at your apartment right after Wonwoo proposed. He’s too smitten to believe that she was going to get drinks with Lisa, celebrating the engagement.  

(You absolutely knew that if you just proposed to Rosie, you’d be balls deep in her as soon as you were inside the car.) 

Wonwoo’s not a bad guy, just collateral in this fucked up situation that he has remained blissfully unaware of for the past year and a half. How oblivious could he be that you’re the one Rosie fucks on the regular, screaming your name as she tells you how much she loves you, is something you didn’t understand. 

You’re selfish, wanting her all to yourself, reminding her night in and night out that she was yours as much as you were hers. 

When you meet Rosie’s eyes, you almost fold. She looks like she’s about to tell you off, but you watch as she slips into the cool demeanor she carries whenever she’s in a board meeting. That very same demeanor that made her into one hell of a lawyer. 

“You know we can’t keep doing this,” You say honestly, “Wonwoo’s respectful, but I’m sure at some point soon, he’s going to want to make the relationship official.” In a way that you and I do, You think bitterly, biting your tongue. 

“Right,” Rosie nods, a tight smile forms on her face. “So this is it? I get engaged, fuck you right after, and you’re now ending things.”

You want to argue. You want to say something like how she agreed to date-date Wonwoo while actually being in a relationship with you. It might’ve been for appearances and to please her father, but you both know that what you were doing was wrong on so many levels.

“I guess. I love you, I want to be with you, but you’re engaged. It changes everything.” She knows things will change once this engagement goes public. 

Rosie doesn’t say anything else, nodding before walking out of your room, out of your apartment. 

Out of your life? 

You hoped not, but you’ve never had any control of your life to begin with. 

-- 

“Stop moping,” Jisoo hisses, forcing a smile when another executive walks by, briefly stopping to shake both of your hands. 

“I don’t want to fucking be here,” You smile, nodding politely as you greet the wife of said executive. 

You’ve been quietly arguing with Jisoo since you arrived. Thankfully you didn’t share a car together because that would’ve given you a headache.

Your sister knows what happened. She pounded on your door an hour after Rosie left because allegedly the woman you’re in love with called her, in tears and distraught, telling her how you ended things. There was one missing vital piece of information that wasn’t shared—something you had to tell your sister, softening as soon as the words fell out of your mouth. 

“We have, like, ten more minutes of this before you can wallow away at the bar,” Jisoo nudges you with an elbow once your aunt and Jennie approach. 

You give the two women a hug, commenting on their appearance because they are Kims after all. Everyone in your family looks good, and Jennie tells you so too.

“Wow, oppa,” Jennie gives you a gummy smile, straightening your bow tie after she hugs you. “You’re actually dressed up for once.”

“Not in the mood, Jen,” You say flatly. Jennie takes a second look, and her eyes narrow. 

“What happened?” 

“Not the time nor place,” You wave at a bunch of people you don’t recognize. All for show, their faces blurring together as they pass. “She didn’t tell you then.”

Jennie stares at you, waiting. When you remain stoic, she rolls her eyes, walking away to most likely find the woman in question. 

“You really shouldn’t have said that,” Jisoo warns quietly, elbowing you in the side a little harder. 

You don’t bother engaging with your sister anymore, just saying hello and answering any questions that people ask you as they walk by. It’s mechanical for you, something you’ve spent years perfecting on how to appear to people when you honestly couldn’t care about all this. You’d give it all up if that meant you could be with Rosie.

These past few days have been absolute hell for you. You’re pretty sure your body’s going through shock. You feel it in your chest anytime your mind so briefly thinks about her. You’ve dated before Rosie and heartbreak has never felt like this. 

When you see the next family approaching, you automatically smile. Jisoo notices your face light up, which she scoffs because she isn’t exactly the biggest fan of who you’re smiling at. 

“Hi Nayeon,” You ignore your sister, beaming as the eldest Im stands in front of you. She smiles, that same toothy one that you’ve teased her countlessly for over the years since it makes her look like a bunny. 

“Hey,” Nayeon chuckles, shaking her head as she goes in for a hug. You do her one better and wrap your arms tightly around her waist, nearly lifting her feet off the ground. She lets out her boisterous laugh, hitting you on the shoulder. “Put me down!”

You’re laughing, actually giving a genuine smile, as you do what she says. You keep your arms loose around her. Anyone passing by would think you’re together, which you do hear them commenting on how close you are. 

“If either of you want to make headlines this evening, please for the love of god, stop,” Jisoo mumbles, shaking her head as she greets Nayeon’s sister. 

“We’re just having fun, Sooya,” Nayeon rolls her eyes, taking a step back before sending you a wink.

“Yeah well, the night’s going to get more interesting,” Jisoo tilts her head toward the entrance. “The Parks are here.” 

You don’t want to look, but you can’t help yourself. Your gaze lands on Rosie. She looks absolutely stunning, wearing a strapless white gown that hugs her body perfectly, hourglass figure and all. It reminds you of a wedding dress, and something inside you breaks when you see Wonwoo right behind her. 

“Wow, Chaeyoung looks gorgeous,” Nayeon comments. Her sister nods approvingly while you don’t miss the concerned look on your sister’s face. 

You excuse yourself without waiting for any of the women around you. You beeline straight for the bar, needing something to ease the tightness in your chest. Hearing the crowd murmurs of Rosie and Wonwoo don’t help either. You even catch someone mentioning the ring, causing you to pick up the pace. 

Lisa intercepts you when you’re a few feet away, “Hey,” Her hand wraps around your bicep, stopping your rendezvous with a bottle of scotch. 

The brave face you put on at the beginning of the night cracks and she gives you a sympathetic smile. If there’s anyone Rosie would confide in, Lisa will be at the top of the list. 

“Hi Lili.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lisa asks politely, gently guiding you towards the bar, the grip on your arm strong enough to keep you from running in the opposite direction. 

“Not entirely,” You shrug, but not enough to shake her arm off. 

Lisa doesn’t push, which is one of the many reasons you consider her a close friend. Aside from the fact she’s secretly dating your cousin, she’s someone you trust. Even though Lisa’s a foreigner, she blends in well with this crowd, and that’s saying a lot. Everyone’s aware she’s not Korean by any means, but she’s networked enough that she has a seat at the table. The relationship she has with all of you have helped too, something she acknowledges, but it’s all her. 

Once you reach the bar, you pull out the chair for Lisa. You get teased a little for acting so gentlemanly since your relationship with her has always been platonic—for obvious reasons. 

“You haven’t spoken to her.” 

“Of course I haven’t,” You nod when the bartender brings over your glass of whiskey. You take it one go. The usual burn doesn’t faze you as it travels through your body.

“She misses you,” Lisa says casually behind a wine glass.

You scoff. Your temper flares because while it could be true, there hasn’t been any moment since you last saw Rosie that she let you know how she felt. You’ve laid it out to her that you’d give up everything if it meant you could be together, but she was scared. 

“She wants to be with you.”

“Sure she does,” You answer sarcastically. “If she did, we’d be engaged. Probably married by now.” 

“Come on, don’t be like this,” Lisa shakes her head, placing her empty wine glass on the counter. 

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up before you could respond. You’re suddenly hyper aware of someone’s presence behind you, that you don’t need to turn around to see who it is. 

“Hi,” You hear Rosie greet softly. 

Lisa turns around first, standing to hug her best friend. You don’t make any moves to engage, at least not without signaling to the bartender for another drink. He’s in front of you, giving you a heavy pour before moving onto the next person. Without waiting, you take the drink in one go again, the liquid amber burning stronger than the first. 

Slipping on the mask you had when you arrived, you turn to face the two women. “Chaeyoung,” You nod, acknowledging her for the first time this evening. It’s a low blow to call her by her Korean name because she’s reserved her English name just for you. “You look great,” You say with an easy smile. 

There’s more you want to say, like how she’s beautiful and all that, but you don’t think that’d be appropriate given the time and place and circumstances.

“Thanks,” Rosie says quietly, the smile on her face hardly reaches her eyes. “Can we-”

“I’d love to stay and chat, but you know, duty calls,” You interrupt, scanning the room for anyone to pull you out of this conversation. Ironically, your gaze meets Nayeon across the crowd, waving you over. “My presence is needed,” You tilt your head in Nayeon’s direction. Rosie’s eyes narrow when she sees who’s exactly demanding your presence. 

That’s a whole other story because you’re all aware of the crush Nayeon’s harbored for you over the years–something that peeved Rosie knowing that your mother’s approval of her if something were to happen. 

But maybe it was time for you to move on. 

“Have a great night, Chaeyoung,” You bow slightly before sidestepping around Lisa. “Congrats on the engagement, by the way. Wonwoo’s a lucky guy.” 

You don’t bother waiting for her response, walking away before you could hear it. 

Each step away feels heavier the farther you go. Every nerve in your body screams at you to turn back around. 

You don’t. 

--

You tend to sneak away in events like this. It’s a habit you developed as a teenager when high power executives and the like would talk to you about things you had no interest in. 

That’s how you end up on the outdoor terrace. It’s empty aside from a couple members of the event staff taking a smoke break, but they don’t pay you any mind, too engrossed in their own conversations about the worst person they’ve interacted with so far. You know that they’ll be back to work in a few minutes. 

You lean against the railing, letting the crisp cool air invade your lungs as you stare at the city skyline. It sobers you up just a bit, but you’ll admit you’re drunk—more than what your mother would deem appropriate at an event this big. 

You have to thank Nayeon for your current state. She immediately knew something was off after you left Rosie and Lisa at the bar. She didn’t ask, but she offered to ditch once the speeches were over. You compromised, only wanting to stay for the foundation’s before Rosie’s father spoke. She understood without question. She didn’t prod as to why specifically before that speech. 

The sound of heels coming to a halt behind you breaks you out of your thoughts. You sigh because there’s only one person that knows this habit of yours. 

“What do you want?” You ask without turning around. 

“Can we talk?” Rosie asks quietly that it forces you to turn around. 

“Okay, go ahead,” You cross your arms, jaw clenching as you try to control the wave of emotions crashing through you as you stare at her. 

“Let’s go somewhere more private, please,” She reaches for your arm, but her hand drops when she hears the quiet chatter from the staff a few feet away. 

You relent, pushing yourself off the railing as she walks back inside. You have no choice but to follow her, and you’re on edge when she chooses to walk into a private bathroom. 

Once the door shuts, you hold your breath, the tension between you much more obvious in an enclosed space. You feel suffocated by being this close to her when all you want to do is pull her against you.

“What do you want, Chaeng?” Your shoulders drop, the mental and emotional exhaustion catching up to you. You’re tired and just want to get as far away from this, from her, to think clearly. 

“I…I don’t know,” Rosie looks away, leaning against the marbled counter as the door holds you up. 

“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” You gesture to the space in between you. “If anyone sees us together, we’re both screwed.” 

You watch her move, something brewing beneath as she keeps her eyes on you. She walks toward you, bringing her arm back. Your head tilts in question as her dress slowly slides down her body. 

“Chaeng,” Your voice comes out low, hoarse as Rosie reveals what’s underneath–a white lace corset with the matching bottoms to go with. For how long you’ve been together, she knows your weaknesses, and if she had the garter belt, you would’ve taken her right there. 

She planned this. 

“What?” Rosie stands in front of you, keeping the smallest bit of space in between you that any movement, her body would be pressed against yours. 

“You’re engaged,” A strong reminder more to you than her. Your hand twitches, but you keep it at your side, not wanting to give her the upper hand. 

“I’ve told you time and time again, it’s not that simple,” Rosie leans forward, her breath ghosting over your lips. “What’re we supposed to do? Just leave everything behind?” 

“Yes,” You shake your head, frustrated. It’s the same conversation you’ve been having with her since she started public dating Wonwoo and it’s still not sinking in that you’d make it work. “It’s not like we don’t have connections outside of our family to support ourselves.” 

“You think too much,” Rosie rests her weight against you. Your cock stirs at the contact. “I love you, you know this. Is that not enough?”

“Chaeng,” You gulp when her hand slips in between your bodies, palming your cock over your slacks. You’re naturally conditioned to react to whatever Rosie does to you, big or small. She could tie her hair in a ponytail and you’d immediately get hard at the sight. “You know that’s not what I mean.” 

“Then what?” Rosie drops to her knees, her eyes demanding your attention. 

You grit your teeth as she undoes your belt. Her hands deftly work to unbutton your pants, tugging them down as she pulls your cock out. “What’re you doing?” You groan, head falling back against the door, the sensation of her soft hands wrapping around your girth.  

“Are you complaining?” Her tongue sticks out, licking the tip before she kisses the same spot. Her hands were doing wonders on you as all the blood in your body rushed south. 

“You know I’m not,” You moan as she takes you fully into her mouth, hollowing out her cheeks. You glance down, which is a mistake, to a filthy sight of your length halfway in her mouth. 

“Then shut up,” Rosie takes a breath, pulling back slightly before repeating the motion. Her hands weren’t idle, stroking at a pace that spread her saliva along what wasn’t in her mouth. 

You obediently listen, biting your lip to cover your moans as she goes lower with each movement. 

You don’t know what came over her. 

That’s a small lie. You could assume what spurred this. Besides your feeble attempt at ending things a few nights prior, Rosie seeing you interact–flirt–with Nayeon would be at the top of the list. It’s not like she would outright admit that she gets jealous because she’ll swear up and down she doesn’t, but you’ve been with her long enough to know how possessive she gets when it comes to you. 

Your hand finds her hair, gently rubbing her scalp as she continues her ministrations. The moment you tighten your grip to increase her pace, she stops all movement. She lets off your cock with a resounding pop before standing up. 

“We have to be quick,” Rosie mutters, standing to turn, and walks to the counter before stepping out of her thong. Your eyes never leave her form, watching her expression darken in the mirror. She bends slightly, shaking her ass in front of you. 

You’re a simple guy. Naturally when a woman as gorgeous as Rosie offers herself up to you, you can’t exactly say no. You’ll deal with any ramifications later, but right now the only thought coursing through your body is to fuck her, and fuck her hard. 

“We’re not supposed to be doing this,” You say, even though your hands grab her waist to steady you both. Her bare bottom presses against your very erect cock, the length in between her cheeks. You see how much precum leaks out of the tip as she tries to get you inside, missing completely. 

“You’re clearly not stopping. We don’t have much time,” Rosie moans softly as your length rubs against her clit. 

You shake your head, meeting her gaze in the mirror, a fiery look set in her eyes. You feel something weighing on your shoulders because you said you were done.

“Just fuck me,” Rosie demands and one of your hands drop, gripping your cock.

You tease a little, rubbing the head against her opening. She’s absolutely drenched that you slide right in.

Both of you moan, her eyes rolling back at being filled. You clench your jaw as she takes you in, the inner muscles tightening at the sudden intrusion. Once her bottom presses against your pelvis, you take a breath, needing it so you wouldn’t cum right away. 

Based on how her pussy keeps contracting, it won’t take you very long. 

“Hurry the fuck up,” Rosie hisses, and you pull your hips back before thrusting again. “I need your cock now.” 

You set a quick pace, watching the sight of your cock disappearing in and out of Rosie’s body. You stifle your moans by resting your chin on her shoulder, biting down as she lets out a gasp with every movement. You realize she’s getting louder, the pitch getting higher. You did not need anyone walking in, especially since you didn’t lock the door.

Your free hand snakes around to cover her mouth, but Rosie surprises you when she pulls your hand to her throat, your fingers encircling her neck. 

Rosie nods, giving you the green light, as your fingers gently squeeze. As soon as you do, her pussy tightens more and she pushes her hips into yours, meeting every thrust as the skin slaps. You knew her body well enough that she was close, especially the right angle to hit her sweet spot as she rolls down and along your length.

“I’m not going to last,” You whimper, panting against her ear. 

“Inside,” Rosie gasps out, back arching as you lose your rhythm. Her orgasm triggers yours, causing you to thrust wildly, pounding, stretching, and the grip on her neck tightening. Her hand clamps on your forearm, loosening the hold as you paint her insides white. 

You lose focus for a second, mind going blank as Rosie’s pussy rhythmically squeezes your cock, milking you for everything you have. 

You didn’t know how long it had been. It could’ve been five minutes or five hours, but your cock softens as you slip out. You kiss the back of her head, as both of you catch your breath. 

You don’t get the chance to see your cum flow out of her because her back straightens. Rosie turns, her chest against yours, arms resting loosely on your shoulder. Her fingers play with the hair on your neck while she stares up at you. She kisses you softly on the lips, smiling, before leaning against the counter. She keeps you close, spreading her legs  that you slot perfectly in between as she gently pecks your cheeks and jaw.

It feels different to be with her like this. 

You know what you’re doing is wrong on so many levels, but she’s your greatest weakness that you couldn’t resist her even if you tried. 

“We should go back to the party,” Rosie mumbles, nipping at your bottom lip before letting out a sigh. 

“Sure, whatever you want,” You honestly wanted to go back to your apartment and just cuddle, but you couldn’t exactly leave without drawing attention or questioning from your parents. 

“Seriously, we should go,” Rosie makes no move to leave. Instead you feel her tongue in your mouth. 

“Okay,” You nod against her mouth, which is also doing wonders, tempting you to go for another round.

Rosie pulls back, kissing you sweetly one last time. Her hand taps your shoulder, and you automatically step away, instantly missing her because you don’t know when, or if, this is going to happen again.

It’s a familiar sight as Rosie picks up her clothes from the floor. She fixes her hair, straightening the strands as best she could. You pulled your pants up, tucking your shirt in while she washed her hands. 

“You should probably wait a few minutes after I leave,” Rosie says softly, wiping her hands before bringing her gaze to you in the reflection. 

You agree, nodding, as the reality of what just happened sinks in. 

No other words are said as you watch Rosie open the door, poking her head in the hallway as she checks if the coast is clear. Before walking out, she says, “I love you.” 

-- 

One moment you’re chuckling at something Lisa says as she and Nayeon follow behind you. Nayeon invited Lisa on the way out as the speeches were commencing, which based on how it was looking with Jennie for the evening, Lisa made the decision to leave as well. She said she’d tell Jennie to meet after. 

The next moment you hear someone in distress around the corner. Your pace slows when the women bump into you. 

It takes you a split second before you realize that the person in distress is Rosie.

Wonwoo has Rosie pressed up against the wall, her leg straining against his as you notice his hand squirming to get in between her legs. 

“Oh no, I’ll get security—Wait!” Nayeon gasps quietly behind you, but you hardly hear it because in the next moment, your feet move on their own accord and you swing your fist at Wonwoo, knuckles hitting square in the jaw and knocking his balance for him to get off of Rosie. 

You think you hear Rosie scream, but you tune everything out because you’re pummeling him into the ground. You don’t care if you’re making a scene. There was absolutely no way in hell you’d ever let something like this slide with any woman, but the fact that it’s Rosie, the woman you’re in love with, all bets are off. 

It isn’t until a few moments later, someone grabs you by your blazer, tearing you off Wonwoo, when everything equalizes. You hear Rosie crying behind you with Lisa trying her best to console her. Your hands ache as you open your fists, a searing pain along your knuckles. The grip on your blazer slackens before you realize it was Rosie’s father—Mr. Park himself—that pulled you off.

“What the fuck is happening here?” His voice comes out stern. 

You notice the security guards tending to Wonwoo, whose face is covered by his hands, blood smeared all over his skin. 

You’re going to be in deep shit from your parents, but you didn’t give a fuck. You would’ve killed him if no one stopped you. 

“Mr. Park,” Nayeon interjects and you see a police officer next to her. Said police officer is her uncle—the police chief of Seoul. “We saw Wonwoo forcing himself on Chaeyoung. I went to grab security.”

A multitude of emotions cross Mr. Park’s face and you’ve never seen him angry before, but this would probably be the first time. It’s terrifying. 

He doesn’t respond to what Nayeon says, walking over to where Wonwoo is. The Jeon heir looks up as Mr. Park says something to him none of you can hear when his eyes widen, desperately shaking his head, as he loudly apologizes. 

“Oppa, let’s get you cleaned up,” Nayeon suggests, a loose hand wraps around your forearm.

You nod numbly, avoiding Rosie’s eyes as you walk by. Lisa’s still comforting her when Jennie and Jisoo rush over. 

“Why are your hands covered in blood?!” Jennie freaks out, hand covering her mouth. 

“Later, Jennie,” Nayeon pulls you away as a crowd starts to form, hiding you as best she could before anyone notices.

Nayeon leads you out of the building, forcing you to sit on a bench as she makes a phone call. She lets you know she’s calling her driver to take you home, but it doesn’t process as your blood’s still boiling over what you witnessed. 

You have half the mind to go back inside and continue with your fists, but when you go to stand, Nayeon’s pushing you down. “No,” Nayeon says firmly, “Sit your ass down. You’re not going back in there.” 

“But-” You try to speak for the first time since. 

“Absolutely not.” Nayeon glares. “My uncle will take care of it. Leave the rest to them.”

“Fine,” You pout, rolling your eyes. 

Nayeon keeps her gaze on you as she speaks with her driver. She ends the call, “Habin will be here in about ten minutes.” She sits next to you, crossing her legs as she stares at you curiously. 

After a few seconds too long of feeling uncomfortable, you can’t take it anymore, grunting out, “Stop.” 

“I’m not doing anything,” Nayeon says, shrugging, but you can sense the curiosity getting to her. 

“You’re staring.” 

“Would you believe me if I told you you're hot?” There’s a teasing tone in her voice that has you rolling your eyes. 

“No.” 

“Well you are,” Nayeon chuckles, “But that’s not why I’m staring.” 

“Stop beating around the bush, ask what you want.” 

“How long have you and Chaeyoung been seeing each other?” 

The question catches you off guard. Of all people, Nayeon was the last one you expected to pick up on your relationship. Jennie told you that Nayeon was sharp, having a good intuition about things, and you should’ve believed her. 

You go straight into denial, “What? Rosie and me? That’s absurd.”

Nayeon clicks her tongue, a satisfied humming sound leaves her throat, “Rosie?” 

Shit. 

None of Seoul’s elite refers to Rosie as ‘Rosie.’ In business meetings with foreign companies, yes, but in a casual conversation like this, no. 

You sigh dejectedly. There’s no point in denying it. Nayeon wouldn’t believe you either way. 

“A little over three years,” You confess, head dropping into your hands. 

“Assuming her parents didn’t know their youngest was already in a relationship before Wonwoo?” Nayeon asks, hitting it right on the money. 

“They did not,” You confirm, nodding in your palms. 

“Wouldn’t approve, eh?” She’s right again as you grunt, taking that as an affirmative. “Well, I hope things work out in the end. If this doesn’t prove to Mr. Park you care about his daughter, nearly killing someone, then he’s an idiot.” 

You actually smile.

-- -- 

It’s Monday and you’re not in your office. 

Your assistant, Mina, texted you early this morning that you were to report to the Park’s building for a meeting with the CEO—Rosie’s father. You tried to get out of it, calling her as soon as you read it, but she couldn’t do anything. Your father specifically, borderline demanded, requested that your morning be cleared for this. 

You hadn’t spoken to your parents since the gala. They blew up your phone as soon as they realized you left and after finding out what happened, thanks to Jisoo tipping you off about the flurry of messages and calls coming your way. You turned your phone off the following day, taking a much needed break from everyone. You didn’t hear from Rosie, which you were glad because you couldn’t face her. You were ashamed of getting violent in front of her. She didn’t need to see that side of you, but you couldn’t help it because it was her that was in danger. 

You don’t regret it one bit though. You’d do it again without hesitation. 

So here you are, waiting awkwardly in the seat as Mr. Park’s secretary types away at the screen. 

When you arrived, she didn’t say anything to you except to have a seat and Mr. Park will be with you shortly. 

You have no idea if you’re in trouble. The police didn’t show up at your place the day after, so you could safely assume no one was pressing charges. You do want to know what he said to Wonwoo that had him begging for forgiveness. 

You haven’t seen your parents either. You’re under the assumption at least one of them would be here, but Mina herself didn’t know when you asked. 

The office door opens and when you look who it is, it’s your father, motioning you to come in. 

You bow when you stand, walking inside the office to Mr. Park leaning against his desk. He gives you a gentle smile when he sees you. 

You automatically notice Rosie sitting off to the side on one of the couches near the window. She averts her gaze when she meets yours, something deflating inside of you. 

“Please,” The Park patriarch gestures to the seat in front of him. “Sit.” It’s not a demand, but there’s no question you won’t do what he says. 

Your father takes the seat next to yours, clearing his throat, “Chaeyoung told us some things this morning.” 

You brace yourself, not sure which direction this conversation was going to go. You and Rosie never discussed what you would tell your parents, so she could have literally said anything. 

When you don’t respond, your father continues, “It’s been brought to our attention that you’ve been actually dating for the past three years. Is that right?” 

You nod, waiting for the pin to drop. 

It never does because Mr. Park says, “Thank you for protecting my daughter.” 

Uh?

You laugh awkwardly, hand reaching to scratch the back of your neck, “Yes, of course, sir.” 

“No, you don’t understand. My daughter was engaged to him, and he’s disgusting,” You’ve never heard such contempt from someone. “If I actually announced their engagement while he tried something like that, it would look bad and my daughter would be stuck with a monster.” 

“What he’s saying,” Your father can tell you’re confused, “Is that if you and Chaeyoung decide to be together, we approve. Your mother’s very proud of you for being quick to stop something bad from happening, though a little scared what would’ve happened if no one intervened, but regardless, it’s okay.” 

Your shoulders feel so light after hearing those words come out of his mouth. You nod in understanding, doing your best to keep your composure.

“We’ll let you be. We have lunch to go over some things,” Your father says, a gentle hand squeezes your shoulder. 

Mr. Park’s hand’s in your face, forcing you to shake it as you stand up, bowing graciously as they walk out of the room, leaving you alone with Rosie, who still hasn’t looked you in the eye since you walked in. 

Once the door shuts, you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“Rosie,” You say softly, but she still doesn’t look up. She keeps her eyes focused on the floor. You roll your eyes, walking to stand in front of her, kneeling to be in her line of sight. “Chaeng.” 

“I’m sorry,” Rosie’s lips quiver, tears visibly forming in her eyes. “I should’ve called you yesterday, but my mother and Alice took me out of the city. I was so shaken up.” 

“Hey, hey,” You reach for her hands, kissing them softly to soothe her worries. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay. We’re okay. You’re okay right?” She nods solemnly. “Then don’t worry.” 

“I should explain-” Your index finger presses against her lips. 

“No need,” You brush off casually. You didn’t need to hear it. There’s a high chance you’d just get riled up having to hear about it. 

“I was breaking up with him,” Rosie mumbles against your finger. “I started to walk away so I could tell my father when he, he-” Her voice cracks.

You move swiftly, wrapping your arms around her as you pull her into an embrace, gently soothing her arm as you kiss the top of her head, “Baby it’s okay. You’re safe. I’m here.” 

“I love you,” Rosie cries into your chest, burying her face into you as her body shakes against yours. “I’m sorry it took me so long.” 

Words aren’t needed. You hug Rosie tighter, silently promising to never let her go. You can’t change what happened, but you can control what happens next. 

“I love you,” You whisper against her temple, kissing softly as she breaks down in your arms even more. “Is it a bad time to ask you out?”

Rosie shakes her head, giggling through the tears, “Like on an actual date?” She lifts her head, a watery smile painted on her face. 

You nod, lips curling up as you wipe the tears away.

“Yes.” 

-- -- 

You hang your arm loosely around Rosie’s shoulder, waiting for your driver to pick you up to take you home. She laughs at something Jennie says, but you’re hardly paying attention to their conversation. 

Your mind is preoccupied on other things.

It’s Rosie’s birthday and Lisa rented out a club in Hongdae to celebrate.

It’s been a few months since that night. Rosie and you have had to learn how to navigate your relationship in the public eye. Aside from many gossip columns speculating about the sudden romance, there have been numerous business analysts forecasting a merger between the families.

Which your father has told you would happen if you were to propose to Rosie in the future. 

Something that you want to do now, even though Rosie thinks it’s best to wait a year for the sake of appearances. 

“Oppa,” Jennie whines as Lisa holds her up, the effects of alcohol hitting her and the woman next to you. “Let’s go to one more place! I’m hungry.” 

“Go to McDonald’s,” You roll your eyes, irritated with your cousin.

You want to spend some time with Rosie, alone, because of the little stunts she’s been pulling throughout the night. 

She’s been relentlessly teasing you, drifting her hand on your thigh, even brazenly palming you over your jeans underneath the table while the cake was brought out. 

You did your best to keep a straight face through it all, but it was hard when she asked you to dance with her friends. You usually shied away from any public displays of affection besides holding hands, but you couldn’t resist her. 

Especially with the way she was dancing on you.

“Baby,” Rosie pouts, looking up at you. “Can we go with them?”

“Chaeng,” Your jaw clenches, sending her a pointed look. 

“Oi,” Lisa laughs. You see her shaking her head in your periphery. 

“Please,” Rosie ignores her friend. She even makes her lip quiver, that you have no choice but to say fine. She claps her hands excitedly before giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek. “I’ll make it up to you,” She murmurs against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“It’s your birthday,” You clear your throat. “Whatever you want.”

“Whatever?” Rosie leans back, raising an eyebrow. 

You nod hesitantly. There’s a mirthful gleam in her eyes that whatever you had in mind, she has something else. 

-- 

Rosie’s lips move slowly against yours, tongue dipping in and around your mouth that has every nerve firing. Your hands tighten on her hips, guiding her movements, even though you’ve been powerless since you arrived back at your place.

There’s too many things going on at once that have you blanking out. The only thing you can remotely focus on is the sensation of her slick over your cock. 

It’s been torture watching, feeling, Rosie grind herself on you without letting you inside. You’re not sure what her end game is, but you’re dying for something other than this. It’s hot, no shit, but you’ve been on edge the whole night that you’re almost ninety-nine percent sure the moment her walls touch your length, you’ll bust. 

“God,” Rosie moans against you, body shaking, and it’s orgasm number two for her without any relief for you. 

“Baby, please,” You whine, hands gripping her waist as she starts moving again. You’re at the point of begging. 

Rosie’s hands are on your chest, pushing herself up. You make the mistake of glancing down and your cock’s nestled in between her lips, covered in a light sheen from her orgasms, and there’s precum leaking from your tip. 

“What’s wrong?” The teasing tone in her voice as you watch her swirl her hips in a circle has you hypnotized. Your cock brushes against her clit and you swear you feel her pulse. 

“Why are you being a fucking tease?” You groan, head thrown back as she continues to rub herself along your length. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rosie murmurs, placing her hands on your abdomen. 

After a few more minutes, your tip brushes against her opening. She lets out a surprised moan at the unexpected intrusion. Much to your dismay, she doesn’t take you in. 

“Chaeng,” You inhale sharply. “Seriously, come on.”

Rosie hums, clicking her tongue as if an idea just came to her. 

“What if I got pregnant?” 

What?

“Like, can you imagine? My father would probably kill you,” Rosie says casually when you don’t respond, too stunned by her question. “You’re practically throbbing down there.”

It’s not like it hasn’t crossed your mind. You’re definitely going to propose to Rosie when she thinks it’s the right time. You’ve talked about having kids, something you couldn’t care much for, but she’s thrown around the idea of it. If you wanted kids, you’d want her to be the mother. 

Though, the process of having kids is what gets you the most. 

Something Rosie knows absolutely gets you wild, nearly feral at the thought of filling her m as much as possible. 

“Chaeng,” Your voice is low, hands stopping her movements. “Is that what you want? You want me to fuck a baby in you?” 

“I mean,” Rosie shrugs, casting her hair behind her back, “Wouldn’t that solve the problem?” 

“What fucking problem?” Your patience’s running thin as your hips involuntarily roll up. 

“You know, the one where girls think you’re still single, even though all of Seoul should know you’re taken,” Rosie rolls her eyes, and her attitude is pissing you off. 

Your mind replays every situation, every interaction you had tonight. Mostly everyone that was there was your friend. There were a few people you knew of, but didn’t engage with them as much since they were more Rosie’s friends than yours. 

Nothing stands out, except for one. 

A light bulb goes off in your head because Rosie doesn’t get jealous, per say. 

Possessive is a better word to describe it. 

While Rosie was off taking shots with her friends, you were idly sitting at the table, waiting for Jungkook and Minwoo when a girl you didn’t know walked up to you. You weren’t sure if she was Rosie’s friend, but when she introduced herself as Chaewon, you knew what she wanted and you were her target for the night. 

You generally don’t entertain women when they come up to you, but Chaewon had disarmed you easily, charming you with a coy smile and flirty glances that you completely missed the daggers Rosie was sending her and you across the room.

The moment immediately passed as soon as Rosie plopped herself on your lap, crossing her legs in between yours, before kissing you heatedly that by the time she took her lips off you, Chaewon disappeared. 

It paints a clearer picture why Rosie’s suddenly dangling pregnancy in your face. It’s more for her to claim you than anything. 

“Is that what you want?” You sit up, wrapping your arms around her body. Kissing her softly before murmuring, “You want people to know who I belong to?” 

“I’m sure people know,” Rosie whispers seductively, “But it wouldn’t hurt for them to know that I’m the one that you can’t keep your hands off.” 

“Baby, I’m sure they know,” You smile against her lips. 

“Well,” Rosie huffs, too distracted by the way you move your mouth over hers, tongue finding its way in between her lips. “I want them to know for sure.”

“Then let me fuck you baby,” Your hips roll up, brushing against her clit as she moans. She shakes her head, gently pushing you to lay back.

Rosie’s hand slips between your bodies, a light grip encircling your cock as she aims the tip to her opening. She gently slaps the head, catching her clit in the process, before settling at her entrance. 

“Rosie,” You grit out, eyes locked on your cock in between her folds. 

“Watch me,” Rosie positions herself, careful not to slide you in just yet, placing her hands to balance on your cock. 

It’s something you’ll never tire of, no matter how many times you and Rosie have sex—and it’s a lot. 

Her hips swivel, adjusting, as she slowly drops down, your cock disappearing in her body. You’re engulfed by her heat, her walls stretch to accommodate your size, and you see stars as your eyes roll back. 

“Baby,” Rosie’s voice cracks, “Eyes on me.”

Your gaze falls back to your cock gone, completely sheathed by her that she uses her inner muscles to squeeze. You can’t help but thrust into her, jolting her body as her breasts bounce. 

“Nope,” Rosie clicks her tongue, shaking her head in disappointment. “Hands here,” She places them in the divot where her legs meet her hips, hands over yours as she slowly rocks her hips. 

“God,” She chokes out, “We fuck a lot, yet it’s always so much.” 

You don’t have any words because you’re too blissed out by her movements. Any coherent thoughts are out the window because she’s right. 

It is so much. 

You’re lost in her that your eyes roll back once she moves up carefully, methodically, before dropping her hips over you, repeating the motion that has you gripping her thighs roughly. 

“Imagine,” Rosie says lowly, looking at you through hooded eyes, “If you did get me pregnant. Just me carrying your child because you couldn’t help yourself. The media would be all over us.” 

Her words trigger a memory of the first time you and Rosie had sex, deciding together to go without a condom because she was safe and she trusted you enough. You don’t think you’ve ever fucked anyone like you fucked her.

“Baby,” You can’t control the moan that falls from your lip after a hard drop. “Don’t.” 

“What?” She stops her movement, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t want to? You’re the only guy I’ve ever let cum inside me.” 

“Jesus fuck, Chaeng,” Your hands drop from her hips. “You’re a fucking—”

“Tease? Slut? Whore?” Rosie swivels her hips in a figure eight, cutting you off. “It doesn’t matter what anyone calls me. I’m yours.” 

You have no control over your body as your hips move on its own accord, meeting every one of her gyrations with precision. 

“Come on,” Rosie goads, bending forward to kiss you briefly on the lips, “You don’t want everyone to know that?” 

Of course you do. People do know that Rosie’s yours, but the love bites and the like don’t compare to her being pregnant—the ultimate claim. 

In a quick move, keeping your cock in between her legs, you reverse positions, and Rosie’s on her back. 

“God yes,” Nails digging into your shoulders as you slide your length from her warmth before snapping forward. 

You buck into Rosie, thrusting wildly as the need to breed her takes the forefront of your mind. The thought of her belly swollen has you nearly going feral. 

You try to lean back, wanting to see your cock spearing through her walls, but her grip takes her with you. You watch as she rolls her body in waves, mesmerizing you as your cock moves in and out. Your hand splays over her stomach, and you could be imagining it, but you swear you feel your cock hitting her front walls. 

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Rosie taunts, eyes barely open with a dopey smile on her face. 

You grunt, too engrossed as she leans back, one hand on your shoulder as the other rests over your hand. Her breasts bounce with every thrust, bouncing rapidly on your cock like she’s in heat. Your thumb sneaks down, slipping underneath her hood to rub her clit. Her eyes widen before a sudden pressure grips your length. 

Rosie screams as her orgasm rips through her body, back arching as she pushes her chest forward, before convulsing, spasming all over you before you feel your cock getting forced out. A stream of clear liquid expels from her, drenching your crotch and thighs. You groan at her squirting because it’s happened before, but holy shit this feels more intense, more primal as you watch her eyes roll back at the pleasure consuming her body. 

She lets go, body falling limp on the bed as you stare at the woman you love in complete awe. Her pussy’s soaked, hole pulsing as she swings her leg over you, rolling onto her stomach. 

Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, but you’re surprisingly still hard, that you can’t wait. You move her legs with ease, straightening one and slightly bending the other before settling between her legs. 

“You didn’t cum?” Rosie asks, surprised, voice shaking as you aim your cock at her opening again. 

“No,” You’re able to answer before sinking in, engulfed by her heat once more. 

It won’t take you very long because you’re rutting into her like your life depending on it. Hips rolling after every thrust has your stomach tightening from your impending orgasm. 

“You fuck me so well,” She moans uncontrollably, sobbing into the pillow as she continues to babble nonsense, hands balling into the bedsheets.

You’re hardly paying attention to what she’s saying as you watch her ass ripple with every thrust. Your hands grip her cheeks, spreading them wide to her puckered hole.

“Would you let me fuck your ass?” You ask, absentmindedly massaging the muscles. She doesn’t need to answer because her body does for her, her walls tightening at the question. “That’s a yes,” Chuckling as you save that for a later time. 

Rosie mumbles something into the pillow that has you leaning forward, pressing your cheek against hers. 

“What was that?” Hips never ceasing as they continue their onslaught, slamming in and out. 

“Daddy please. Cum inside me.” 

You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried. 

The word had never been used before, but it sparked something dark in you. Your hips stutter, breaking your rhythm, after one, two, three thrusts you explode inside of her, painting her inner walls that trigger another orgasm from the woman wrapped around your cock. 

“God—shit, fuck,” You lazily thrust inside her one more time before groaning against her hair. 

Your cock twitches as her velvet walls keep contracting, draining you for all that you have, making sure you don’t leave her empty. 

You move her hair to the side, exposing her neck and back, placing soft, tender kisses—a stark contrast to what you were just doing to her—all over her skin. You don’t want to pull out, too comfortable with her snug warm walls, and you’re almost certain she wouldn’t care if you stayed inside her, too cock drunk to even notice.

Rosie lets out a pathetic whine as you regretfully pull out. Your cock’s covered in your shared fluids as her you take a good look at the mess you made. You notice a dribble of cum ooze out of her lower lips, and just to fuck with her more since you’re a little shit, you use your finger to push it back in. 

“Hey,” Rosie moans softly as you deftly massage her walls, spreading the load. “Too much.” 

You nod, removing your finger, but not without brushing over her clit. She weakly slaps you away as you chuckle, dropping your weight next to her. She immediately turns to face you, pulling you into her and throwing a leg lazily over yours. 

You bask in the moment, letting the endorphins release as you listen to Rosie sigh contentedly. 

“You’re not serious about getting pregnant, right?” You ask, slightly nervous as the post-orgasm clarity hits. 

Rosie giggles, shaking her head as she looks at you, “You really think I’d go off birth control without talking to you?” 

Smiling sheepishly, “I don’t know. It just caught me off guard.” 

“Sorry, just felt extra attentive for you tonight since it was my birthday,” Rosie kisses your jaw. 

“Do you mean jealous?” You quip, which earns you a light slap on the chest. 

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, I don’t get jealous,” Rosie pouts all cutely that you chuckle. 

“I can’t help that I’m such a hot commodity,” Another slap. 

“Yeah well you’ve been off the market for almost four years, you think I’m going to really let some girl get to me?” 

“I’ve had to go on dates with people my parents set me up with. How do you know I didn’t sleep with them?” You tease, earning a pinch this time. 

“Because you literally came over after every single one,” Rosie rolls her eyes. “I’d remind you that there wouldn’t be anyone else, don’t you remember?” 

The few dates your parents forced you to go on resulted in some of the hottest sex you’ve had with Rosie. You remember vividly the things she did so you never had to think twice about being with another woman. 

It’s making you hard again at the memory. 

“I feel you twitching,” Rosie smirks, shaking her head. “Let’s sleep first, okay?” 

“Fine,” You pout. Though, you have one more question. “One last thing?”

Rosie hums, snuggling into the crook of your neck.

“Marry me?” 

Rosie pulls back, gaze meeting yours, searching your face for an answer she only knows. “You’re serious this time.” 

“I’m serious every time I ask,” You scoff. 

“No, but this is different,” Rosie sits up. “Do you have a ring?” 

“In my sock drawer, all the way in the back,” You answer simply. 

You watch her slide out of bed, walking to the dresser. She slips on one of your old university shirts from when you studied abroad before digging through the mentioned drawer. She pulls the small velvet box out before joining you on the bed. 

“How long have you had this?” She asks softly, staring at the box. 

“Honestly?” Rosie nods. “Two years. Lisa’s the only one that knows. Jennie might, but if she does, she’s never said anything.” 

“You were that sure about us?” Her voice trembles as she looks at you. 

“Yeah.” You didn’t know what was going to happen back then, but all you did know was that you wanted to be with Rosie. You would’ve given everything up right then and there if your parents didn’t approve. 

You still would. 

“You’re a big softie, you know that?” Rosie smiles. 

“Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone. I have an image to uphold.” 

The small box is placed in your hands, and Rosie gives you an encouraging smile. 

“You sure? Didn’t you want to wait a year?” 

Rosie shrugs, “It was advised by Alice, mainly because it was already a big deal that two rivaling companies’ kids were dating that she suggested waiting was the best for the news outlets to cool down. But at this rate, I don’t think I could wait.” 

You open the box, the diamond shining brightly in the low lit room. 

It’s a fond memory of how you picked this ring, mainly because of the woman you took with you. She dragged you to five different places, even suggesting flying to Paris since she had connections there. You argued that leaving to Europe would raise suspicion to Rosie. Lisa pointed out some ostentatious design with diamonds around the band would be the best, which the jeweler agreed—most likely wanting to get a bigger commission. You shook your head, opting for a simple solitaire, a three-carat diamond that still had a hefty price tag. 

You take a deep breath, smiling at the woman in your bed, unshed tears in her eyes. 

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes. A thousand times yes,” Rosie cries, throwing her arms around you as she pulls you into a heated kiss. 

You drop the box, uncaring about where it goes. Your hands find themselves on her hips, lifting your fiancée onto your lap. Neither of you are clothed from the waist down, and you’re surprised with how wet she is. 

“Already?” You murmur against her lips. 

“Shut up,” Rosie breaks the kiss, embarrassed as she buries her face into your neck. “Can’t help it,” She sucks lightly, marking your skin. 

“What about sleep?” You moan, rocking her body along your hardening cock. 

“Later,” Rosie mumbles, “I’m engaged. Let me celebrate, daddy.” 

You groan at the new nickname, earning a giggle. 

“Who knew you had a daddy kink,” Rosie teases, kissing you on the lips again. “I probably have a praise kink.” 

“Be a good girl for me then,” You say, easily slipping into character. 

“It’s not hard to be,” Rosie trails her lips along your jaw, peppering kisses as she slyly slides her hand in between your bodies. “Especially with a cock like this,” She sighs as she slowly strokes your stiffness. 

“I love you,” You tilt your head back as she moves herself lower, eager for whatever she has in store.

“I know, I love you too, my fiancé.” 

-- -- --

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 9

You know the drill, ISAT spoilers below.

"There! That should help with the itching at the very least." (Mirabelle remarked after healing your arms as best she could, though you can tell in her voice she wished she could do more.)

"… Thanks Mira…"

"Don't even mention it Siffrin, I'm happy to help!… And thank you, for being honest with all of us… I know that must have been hard to share." (She added with a bright smile, one you can't help but smile back at.)

"Of course… We're feelings buddies after all, right?"

"Right!" (You chuckle some, able to tell Mira was hesitating about something… You lift your arms, inviting her into a hug. She practically jumps at the chance! Quickly wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into an almost crushing grip! You choke out some, gasping for air and patting at her back.)

"S-Sorry! I-I just got a little excited." (Her grip quickly lessens, the both of you laughing to yourselves.)

----------------------------------------------------

(The next day you arrive at the next town over. Everyone is nice and rejuvenated after last night's stop, though you're still a bit emotionally drained. The entire town seems to be setting up for something as it comes into view. Large banners and decorations being hung up across buildings, everyone is bringing furniture out into the middle of the road as impromptu party tables and seats.)

"Oh! It looks like they're getting ready for a celebration!"

"We DID just unfreeze most of the country, it makes sense there would be celebrations going on across it."

"And this town gets to celebrate with the saviors themselves!"

"Yeaaaah!! The saviors are in town!!!"

(… Crab… It's all coming back to you now…)

"Uhh… maybe I'll sit this one out…"

"Awww, c'mon Sif it'll be fun!"

"I dunno… I don't really feel very 'savior-y' after everything that happened…" (You say while your head lowers, eyes drifting to the ground.)

"Siffrin…" (Odile starts, walking over and placing a hand on your shoulder.)

"You realize we wouldn't have been able to do any of this without you, right? Based on everything that happened, I'm not sure we'd have even reached the second floor on our own."

"… Yeah… Yeah you're right…" (You say, only half believing yourself. Based on Odile's look she probably believes that even less than you did. She just sighs and pats your shoulder again.)

"If you're not quite up for being the center of attention we can figure something out, but please understand you played as big a part in this as any of us." (You muster up what you can of a smile and nod.)

"Thanks Odile…

-------------------------------------------------- (You sat in your room at the inn, which was give freely by the owner for the 'Gracious Saviors of Vaugarde'… You never got used to being called that, even after all this time. You look out the window at everyone preparing the festivities, your family being the center of attention. You want to be with them but you know it'd be far too much for you right now… but it would still be nice to enjoy the party a bit otherwise, right?…) --------------------------------------------------

(You take a deep breath and sigh it back out, walking through the busy street without your hat or cloak. The two things that made you stand out as one of the 'saviors'. You felt naked, but it was far better than the overwhelming reaction of being swarmed by 'adoring fans'.)

(You walk along, lightly holding yourself, just looking for anything to distract you. Not much is setup yet, but maybe you could help out? Maybe earn your family some money with little jobs! Yeah, that's a good idea! You look around at various booth's getting setup, finally coming across one that's trying to quickly make costumes, masks, and various other fun fashion for the celebration.)

"Excuse me, uhh.. I was wondering if you might need some help? I'm a bit short on coin and could use some work if you'd be willing to have me." (Wow… you can still talk to people that aren't you family. This surprises you a bit.)

"Oh! That'd be wonderful! Come sit, I'll give you a few silver for each piece you can finish!" (The kind stranger explains, seeming very grateful for the offer.)

(You spend the rest of the day assisting the costuming one, grateful that helping Isa out for so many years made this a cinch. You keep up with your temporary employer with ease, and even carve out some wooden masks as well. The somewhat mindless act of it all helping put you at ease as the party grew ever closer.)

"Thank Change you came along when you did, I have no idea how I was gonna get all this done in time! Here, you deserve a little bonus." (They explain, handing over a sizeable coin pouch, which you graciously accept.)

"Th-Thank you! H-How much for this one by the way?" (You ask, pointing at one of the masks you made, one that's been carved into your own memory. One of those cute little trio ones that always liked to swap around.)

"Oh don't be silly, you made it! Take it, and enjoy the party!" (You nod thankfully and take it, slipping it over your face and venturing off into the crowd to hopefully blend in a bit better.)

(As you wander about, you finally find your family again, still swarmed by a cheering crowd as always. Isa and Bonnie are handling it well, Mira is trying her best.. Odile just looks like she needs a nap, heh... You relate to her very much in this moment. You lift your mask up, managing to meet Isa's gaze in the crowd. You wink, placing a finger to your mouth in a shushing gesture, then lower the mask again. Isa gets a chuckle out of that, seeming to be happy you're enjoying yourself. You caught sight of Mira trying to give you a little wave, it seems she noticed too. You chuckle and return the 'subtle' gesture. You decide to move on again before someone might end up recognizing you.)

------------------------------------------------------

(You spend the rest of the evening mostly enjoying the various dishes prepared, and playing little improvised carnival games, even winning a few prizes in the process and picking up some nice little gifts you found for the party. You finally retreat back to the inn, collapsing onto your bed with a heavy sigh... You're REALLY not used to being this social, but at least this go around was a lot more favorable than the last... You get a bit of a shiver at the memory, breaking down in the middle of the crowd, ruining everyone's good time, especially your families... They deserved a celebration, so you're very glad you didn't ruin it this time.)

"Sif? You in?" (Isa asked after knocking and peeking the door open a hint.)

"Oh, yeah! Come in! I have a little surprise for you!" (You remark excitedly as you quickly sit back up, digging through your bag to find. Isa walks in with a bright smile, covered in little gifts and charms made and provided by the town's occupants.)

"I'm glad you had a good time! Shame you didn't get to be with us out there though."

"Trust me... It was much better off this way... A-Anyways! Come here! Close your eyes!" (You shout excitedly, chuckling as he almost trips, walking over with his eyes covered. You guide him to sit down next to you, moving his hand out and held open, before placing your gift upon it like a pedestal.)

"Okay, you can open em!" (He does, blinking for a moment before seeing the very lovely sewing tools in his hand. A beautifully crafted bright steel set of scissors, needles, an awl, ripper, etc. Isa just stares in awe as he looks over every inch of it all.)

"S-Sif!... Th... This is amazing!? Where did you get these?!"

"Hehe, let's just say I'm REALLY good at carnival games~"

"Sif.... I..." (Isa can't even find the words, tears starting to well up in his eyes. He can't resist any longer, suddenly pulling you into a tight hug, making you emit a sound not unlike a squeaky toy. You just hug back tightly once the initial shock passes. He pulls away some to look you in the eyes... slowly closing his... leaning in... wait... wait no, no this isn't right... this isn't how it happened, it's too soon... is this... is this wrong?... Would this ruin everything?... You're lying to him again... You're doing what you did in the loops! You're forcing it! No, no you can't do this to him again! You quickly pull yourself away at the last second, looking away in shame.)

"I-Isa… I-I'm sorry, I can't…"

"O-Oh! It's fine Sif, we can wait til you're ready, i-if you even want to at all of course! I-it's totally fine if you're not really inter-"

"No!" (You cover your mouth in shock. The word having escaped your throat violently in response to letting him thinking such a thing for even a second.)

"… N-No it's not that… I… I need to tell you something Isa… I-I've been hiding something, a-and I can't… it wouldn't be right if I didn't tell you first…"

"O-Of course Sif… You can tell me anything."

[bvidzsoo]

Nowhere we won’t go

 Author: bvidzsoo

 Warning: violence, murder, blood, some swearing

 Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x female reader

 Word count: 27, 401

 Summary:  Life had mysterious ways of working, and it took you off guard when you lost your best friend to a ruthless criminal. No one knew who did it, the whole town was in terror. However, it didn’t stop there, more people were dying and your suspicions of the murderer started raising. Could it really be your boyfriend?

 A/N: Hiii lovelies! I’m back from the dead lol. College always takes a tool on me, so I barely have inspiration to write nowadays. I watched Scream lol and this oneshot came into fruition. Ofc it’s heavily inspired by the movie so don’t come at me, but I tried to be original still. I might be a little rusty crusty dusty, but I hope it’s not that noticeable. Please leave feedback, you know I love it and I hope everyone enjoys this! Happy reading!

           This morning wasn’t any different compared to other mornings. The sun was slowly rising, beaming down on our little borough and letting its rays spread some well needed warmth as autumn has approached, coating the town in a grey fog as a result of daily rain. I missed the summer days, when the temperatures were high and I was carefree and able to spend my time doing what I liked. School takes up a large amount of effort and energy, and sometimes, I’m drained by the end of the day. I am conscious that going to school is crucial as it’s supposed to educate us and develop us into mature and smart young adults, ready to pursue our dreams and goals once we’re out of high-school, but most of times it’s just a buzzkill. The teachers are always dull and mean to us, as if they hate us for being in their classes, and most things we learn seem useless once we have stepped out into the real world. I like studying, but I am not desperate, and find myself spending my time doing something else quite often. This has always been an issue with my mom, as she’s a hardworking nurse and stern woman, only expecting and accepting perfection. But we got past our differences a few years ago and now, if I get good grades, she allows me to do whatever I like on the weekends. When I was young, I was supposed to attend various activities which my mother enjoyed while she was young, like: swimming and ballet classes. I have always hated ballet; it gave me bad ankle and toe aches making me unable to get out of bed on some lamentable days. But my mother wouldn’t accept my whining and forced me to continue ballet, only allowing me to stop when I told her I had no interest in being a ballerina. That was three years ago. Mom was quite disappointed but when I told her I wanted to take up some drawing and painting classes, reluctantly, but at last she agreed. Now, I can see myself being an artist, attending a prestige arts college. I only have to convince my mother at this point to oblige to my wish. I don’t know how I’m going to do that, but I’ve still got two years to come up with a good solution. Perhaps if Wonwoo and I can go to the same college she’ll let me be. Wonwoo, my boyfriend, is someone who my mother adores. She’s loved him from the very first moment they have met. He’s soft spoken and kind, a little withdrawn, but nonetheless friendly once he opens up to you. We’ve known each other since we were kids as we’ve been living on the same street for our whole lives, but our romance only began in high-school, last year. It took us some time to mature and notice each other finally, but when it happened, I couldn’t have been happier. He was so attentive to me, always listening closely to what I had to say. He made me laugh and smile, sometimes even without trying to, and filled my heart with warmth I didn’t know was even possible. I found a confidant and friend in him, someone whom I could love freely and carelessly, never doubtful or uncertain of his intentions. Wonwoo was direct and honest from the get go and it made me like him even more. We had our ups and downs, just as any couple, but managed to work them out and move forward as a stronger couple. He had moments when I couldn’t understand him, questioning whether I was imagining his lack of empathy or he really lacked of it, but never thought too hard about it. After all, both of us were enamored with each other, living under our pink cloud as any newly formed couple.

I had dressed up after waking up, realizing I needed to hurry up if I wanted to catch the bus, mom had a nightshift and wouldn’t be driving me to school today. I could smell bacon and eggs wafting through the downstairs as I descended the stairs, headed for the kitchen. My mother was still in her nurse uniform, her blonde hair pulled in a tight bun as she placed the fried bacon on a plate next to the already done eggs.

“Good morning, mom.” I greeted her with a smile and she turned around, dark bags under her eyes as she returned a smile.

“Good morning, slept well?” She asked as she handed me the plate which I took eagerly. I didn’t have dinner last night as I was too lazy to cook something and my stomach was screaming at me right now to fill it with something.

“Yes, although the storm did wake me up…” I trailed off as mom hummed, sipping some orange juice as she sat down opposite of me.

“It was quite bad; the wind tore a few trees out around the hospital.” She said and I hummed in surprise, not having thought the storm was actually that bad. My mom looked behind me with furrowed eyebrows as she quickly went to grab the remote control. I was just chewing on my breakfast as she turned the volume up of the TV behind me, making me turn around to see what has caused such interest in my mom suddenly. However, the words of the reporter made me drop my fork.

“Breaking News.” Her voice was loud and clear, eyebrows furrowed as she stood in front of a white house, “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Trees getting torn out of the ground during last night’s storm wasn’t the only unfortunate thing to happen. It has come to our attention, that a beloved citizen of our serene city has been murdered in cold blood last night during the storm. Her name is Myoi Mina and she was a student at Primrose High-School. Not much is known as of now about her death, the police are still investigating the crime scene, however, I managed to find out before going live, that she’d been stabbed in the chest three times and suffered a fatal trauma to her head. I offer my sincere condolences to everyone who knew her. Stay tuned for more news about the terrific death of Myoi Mina, a bright girl who will never be forgotten. I am Park Sooyoung and you’ve been watching Prime News.”

For a second the world went quiet around me as I continued staring at the TV with my mouth open in shock. If it weren’t for my mother calling out my name, I probably would have stayed longer in that trance.

“Honey!” Her voice rose an octave and suddenly I felt her gripping my hand, eyes searching mine.

“Mom—” I managed to whisper as she pulled me into a hug, offering me support. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. Mina…dead? How is that possible? Who would do that to her? We weren’t friends, but as we go to the same high-school we’ve known each other. She was always bright, and friendly, just as the reporter has said. Who would want to take away her life? When she was so innocent—oh, poor Wonwoo. If I was this affected by the news, I couldn’t imagine what he was going through. They had been exes and despite a tumultuous relationship, they managed to figure things out and stay somewhat friendly with each other after their breakup. Still, she was a person he once had loved and I would totally understand if he needed time to sort his thoughts out.

“Honey, are you alright?” My mom whispered and I lightly nodded, pulling away from the hug. I wasn’t very alright, confusion and fear meshing together, but I needed to stay strong. For Wonwoo, probably.

“Yes, just very…shocked.” I answered mom and she nodded; eyebrows downturned as she understood my feelings.

“It’s going to be fine. The one responsible for this will be found and held responsible for their actions, don’t be afraid.” Mom tried to cheer me up and offer some security, but it didn’t do much. However, I did appreciate her attempt.

“You’re right.” I tried to give her a smile, but I wasn’t able to.

“Let me drive you to school today—”

“No, don’t worry! I am fine, really. You look very tired, just go get some sleep. The bus is coming in five minutes.” I reassured her and got up from my seat, appetite gone as I quickly filled my water bottle with some orange juice.

“You’re sure?” Mom raised her eyebrows and I nodded, going up to her and kissing her cheek.

“Go rest, mom.” She hummed and patted my head before I hurried into the hallway to pull on my shoes and take on my coat. I opened the front door and took my keys, locking it once I was out of the house. Just as I walked down my porch the bus approached and I got on it, noticing the silence and somber faces of the rest of the students on it. Today was a grey day and nobody could deny it.

           My first task after getting off the bus was to find Wonwoo and check up on him. I kept biting my lip nervously as I looked around the halls, even going up to his locker. He was nowhere to be found and it made me even more nervous. I walked up to his classroom and peeked inside, but his usual seat was empty, not even his bag was there yet. Classes would start in ten minutes and I was panicking, about to grab my phone to call him, when I realized I hadn’t checked one place yet. The spot designated for the students to park their bikes and motorbikes. Of course he’d be there, why hadn’t I thought about that earlier?!

I ran down the hallways and finally exited the school, beelining it for the parking lot. Nobody was laughing this morning, people whispering amongst them, some even crying. Mina’s closest friends weren’t even seen at school, I understood why. I greeted a classmate of mine in a rush as I passed by him, he had just gotten out of his car and was taken aback by my presence, but by the time he greeted me back I was already facing the motorbikes parked in the corner. And there he was, Wonwoo, dressed in all black, his helmet in his hands as he got off his bike. His black hair was badly ruffled as he hadn’t run his fingers through his hair yet, and I suddenly took off, running towards my boyfriend. He had placed the helmet where he was sitting just seconds ago when I crashed into his back, hugging him from behind. I rested my cheek against his shoulder as I squeezed my arms tightly around his middle, making Wonwoo let out a surprised gasp.

“Hey, there, sugar.” He chuckled and my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Just as I pulled my head away from his shoulder he turned around in my embrace and hugged me back, just as strongly as I had hugged him. He was crushing me, but I didn’t care.

“Wonwoo—” I managed to mutter out as I wiggled out of his embrace, torso aching in certain spots, “Are you alright?”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed as he ran his fingers through my short hair, resting his hand on my nape, “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

I became even more confused at Wonwoo’s words, searching his face for some sort of tell, but there was none, “Well…did you not hear?”

I decided to feel around, scared that I had to be the one to tell him. It would break me seeing him in pain.

“Hear what?” Wonwoo asked confused, his thumb rubbing my jugular, it was slightly distracting.

“Oh, well—” I cleared my throat and licked my lips, “Mina—”

“Oh, that.” Wonwoo muttered and looked down, his grip slightly tightening on my nape, but I said nothing as I watched his expression. He seemed unphased almost, like he wanted to look sad but it wasn’t working. My eyebrows furrowed when Wonwoo sniffed, yet there were no tears in his eyes. He clearly wasn’t alright, and I felt horrible for even reminding him of her death.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Why are you sorry, did you kill her?” He suddenly looked up and his sharp eyes were piercing into mine, and I suddenly stuttered before shutting my lips. What? He looked so…cold. As if he didn’t care at all.

“No, I just—”

“Y/N,” He grabbed both of my cheeks with his hands and pulled me into him, our foreheads almost touching, “You are the love of my life and whatever happened to Mina…she had it coming.”

I couldn’t believe my ears, and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked at Wonwoo with even more confusion. He didn’t actually mean that, right? How could he…he cared for her once.

“She was murdered, Wonwoo.” I whispered; my voice almost trembling. Wonwoo sighed and swiftly kissed my forehead, but it didn’t reassure me like it usually did, no, it made a chill run down my spine.

“I know, but she cheated on me multiple times, sugar, I do not care what has happened to her.” Wonwoo’s voice was sinister, almost gloating if I hadn’t known him better, “But she deserves it.”

My mouth opened in a gasp as I shook my head, refusing to comprehend the words which were leaving his lips, but also shocked and trying to process what he could really mean by saying that. But before I could voice my thoughts, his warm lips were pressing against mine softly, our noses touching. His was cold as it was really windy outside and I pulled back from the kiss, opening my eyes to gaze into his. I couldn’t read what he was feeling, his face expressionless and somehow so cold.

“I love you.” Wonwoo muttered before he let go of me and stepped back, grabbing his helmet off his motorbike. I watched him as he grabbed his backpack as well, trying to go over what has happened in the last few minutes, realizing this was just probably Wonwoo’s way of processing the traumatic news of last night’s happening. I knew deep down he was feeling miserable, he just didn’t want to show it in order to not worry me even more. I felt sympathetic for him and as he looked at me, it shocked me how much hatred was behind his irises, but it was gone just as quickly as it came, and it made me wonder if I had started seeing things. The news must be affecting me real bad if I couldn’t decide anymore what my boyfriend’s reactions meant.

           Today was grim. Everyone’s mood was bad and students almost whispered to each other despite it being our long break. Myoi Mina’s death has affected all of us, it was obvious. Everyone seemed to hold some sadness in their eyes and somehow they seemed to be more sympathetic towards fellow students. Even the teachers tried to be nicer to us. An hour ago we held a memorial for Myoi Mina at the football field of our high-school and once we were dismissed we quickly hurried back to our classrooms as the wind started picking up once again. The weather seemed to worsen as we reached noon and currently we were bundled up in the cafeteria, trying to enjoy our lunches. However, I found it rather hard to swallow the mashed potatoes as I overheard the girls next to our table talking about Mina’s brutal murder. I found the topic insensible and rude to talk about, especially since they seemed to be giggling about it from time to time, wondering whether the criminal looked hot or not. Kim Yerim, my best friend, seemed to have had enough as well as she slammed her fork down against the table, the loud sound catching those girls’ attention.

“Listen here, insensible cunts, if you want to gossip about that poor girl’s terrible death and fantasize about a murderer, go do it in your bedrooms and not in the cafeteria where everyone can hear you and realize just how fucking stupid you are!” Yerim’s words were harsh, always having been a brutally honest person, and it caught the attention of a few more students around us who seemed to be agreeing with her as they shot nasty glares at the gossiping girls. They seemed to be offended and one even gasped as she stood up, causing an unnecessary scene.

“How dare you call us—insensible cunts?!” Her voice rose and Yeri scoffed, giving her an amused grin.

“I was merely telling the truth, sweetheart.” Yerim answered back and I turned my head to look at the girl who was very pathetically gasping for air.

“I think everyone around us knows by now that you just want your five-minute fame, so settle down before you embarrass yourself furthermore.” I spoke up, trying to ease up the tension, but I figured I only did worse by saying that. The girl’s friend gasped loudly and both were standing up now, looking down at Yerim and I as if we were some monsters.

“Look who’s talking about fame, Y/N.” The second friend, who was blonde and had a pixie cut, looked at me maliciously, “Aren’t you the one dating Myoi Mina’s ex?”

Yerim and I glanced at each other, not understanding the correlation here, “I am, and so what about that?”

“Ah, look at her talk about fame,” The first one who caused this scene mocked, she had jet black eyes, “You’re acting as if you’re an angel when it’s because of you Wonwoo and Mina broke up. Did you know he cheated on her with you?”

I gulped, feeling the eyes of many students on me. This information was wrong, merely a gossip Mina spread around after she found out Wonwoo started going out with me out of jealousy. It didn’t last for long, the gossip, because a week later Mina and I talked and cleared things up. I held no harsh feelings against her and she apologized, realizing how foolish she was, and promised to make things right.

“That’s not true.” I said as I glared at the two girls, “Mina spread that rumor around out of jealousy—”

“Are you seriously bad-mouthing a dead person right now?!” The blonde one exclaimed in outrage and I couldn’t believe my ears. Suddenly I was the bad guy when I just wanted to protect someone who couldn’t do it anymore themselves. I could hear my ears ringing and my jaw clenched as I glared at the two. Yerim was just as appealed as I was and she slowly stood up, expression menacing.

“Look who’s playing the victim now.” Yerim chuckled and went around her chair, oh no, this was going to be bad. I stood up and grabbed my friend’s arm, knowing she’d get physical if no one was there to restrict her. Yerim always struggled with her anger issues, but when someone was disrespected she couldn’t help it, she saw red. I glanced around and gulped nervously, too many people were watching us now. And they were whispering too. I didn’t want this. Today out of all days this was so unnecessary.

“Yerim—” I spoke up, but before any of us could say anything else, Wonwoo and Soonyoung, his best friend, approached our table, each holding a tray full with food.

“What’s your problem, Hyuna?” Wonwoo snapped, blazing eyes glaring at the girl with the pixie cut, “Are you letting out your frustration on Y/N now that Mina’s gone? What? Are you going to beg me soon to leave Y/N for you?! Just like you did when I was dating Mina?”

My mouth fell open as Yerim and I looked at each other shocked, and even the students who were fully watching the commotion now, seemed surprised. The blonde one, Hyuna, turned red in the face and she gasped, looking at Wonwoo with her mouth gaping.

“That’s—that’s not—” She stuttered, shrinking under Wonwoo’s harsh glare, “That’s not what I was doing!”

“But you were speaking poorly of a dead girl.” Wonwoo said nonchalantly and Hyuna gulped as her friend took her hand and started pulling her away. I think they realized they have embarrassed themselves enough. Soonyoung started cackling as everyone watched the two girls basically run out of the cafeteria and he had the audacity to shout after them, “Look, Hyuna! I’m still available!”

His words elicited laughter from many students as they called Hyuna pathetic and everyone slowly went back to their lunch, Yerim and I long forgotten as we both sat down with Wonwoo and Soonyoung now having joined us. Wonwoo sat next to me and he kissed my cheek as I offered him a small smile, checking his face for any reaction. Perhaps a change of heart since the morning. But he still looked…fine, uncaring. Sooyoung, to Yerim’s dismay, sat next to her and she quietly sighed when he leaned close to her and whispered something, making her push his face away. Sooyoung giggled and I glanced at him, observing his attitude too. He looked like himself, as if Mina didn’t die, as if Mina and him didn’t even know each other.

“How are you feeling, Soonyoung?” I found myself asking my boyfriend’s best friend, curious.

Soonyoung looked up just as he stuffed his face with a chicken wing and grinned, “Quite well, thank you!”

Wonwoo cleared his throat next to me and I glanced at him briefly, but he was staring at Soonyoung quite coldly, “Oh—I mean, quite well despite the shocking news…I mean, how terrible, isn’t it?”

Yerim glanced at Wonwoo before she looked at Soonyoung and her eyes narrowed at the blonde, “At least you could try sounding more genuine next time, Soonyoung.” She emphasized his name as she gave him a glare. Yerim has never been fond of Soonyoung, she found him obnoxious, loud, dumb and overbearing. Despite Soonyoung’s efforts to get her to like him, she refused to spend any time with him if Wonwoo and I weren’t there.

“Yeah, you knew her quite well…” I found myself mumbling to no one in particular as I ate my lunch, but it seemed like everyone from our table heard me. Yerim nodded along. It was weird seeing the two boys so uncaring towards Myoi Mina’s death, after all, Soonyoung was the one who introduced Mina to Wonwoo.

“Oh, come on.” Soonyoung scoffed and leaned back in his seat, an irritated smirk crossing his lips, “That bitch whined all the time if something didn’t go her way. She didn’t let anyone breathe around her unless they first pleased her and my God—if Wonwoo wasn’t with her it was the end of the world, and if Wonwoo was there—why was he showing her no affection?!”

Wonwoo placed his fork down and placed his elbows on the table, leaning forward and placing his chin on his knuckles, “Thank you for you input, Soonyoung, although I’d like to enjoy my lunch without hearing about my ex-girlfriend’s death…again.”

It was the most emotion Wonwoo had shown all day and I grabbed his hand, squeezing it and offering him a small smile. He looked at me, seemingly still pissed off at Soonyoung, but offered me a small smile back. Yerim was silent as she watched the two boys before shaking her head and taking a sip from her glass of water. I knew how she felt about them, she never liked them too much, but they were good boys. A bit odd, but well-intended.

“Fine,” Soonyoung muttered displeased as he took another chicken wing, eyeing Yerim from the corner of his eyes, “but the bitch deserved it.”

“Excuse me?!” It was Yerim who was appealed this time, her reaction being the same as mine when Wonwoo said it. She just reacted stronger than I had. I was quite speechless, she rarely was.

“Nothing.” Soonyoung smiled sweetly at my best friend and I could feel my heartbeat pick up when Wonwoo’s tongue poked his cheek from the inside of his mouth, a clear sign he was getting angry. I looked at him, but he was glaring daggers at Soonyoung. Thinking quickly, I looked down at his plate and touched his thigh, trying to get his attention.

“You don’t like chicken wings,” I said with a smile as I pointed at my plate, “You can take my fried cheese.”

Wonwoo’s attention was back on me and his eyebrows furrowed, “You don’t look chicken wings either—”

“Don’t worry, I’m full already.” I smiled, I wasn’t full, in fact. But they were probably out of fried cheese and Wonwoo was quite particular about what he ate. I didn’t want him to be hungry until we got home.

“How sweet,” Soonyoung cooed from the other end of the table and both Wonwoo and I glanced at him, “She’s so caring, Won, don’t you just love her?”

He sounded quite mocking and I sighed, starting to get fed up with Soonyoung. I had no idea what his problem was today, but I didn’t enjoy being around him anymore. Wonwoo sensed my discomfort and shook his head at Soonyoung.

“Yes, I love her.” Soonyoung grinned widely and chuckled, shaking his head. He looked at Yerim and reached out for her hand, but she quickly took it off the table and gave him a glare.

“Don’t you want us to be sweet like them?” Soonyoung blinked cutely at Yerim, leaning closer to her, “How about—we go out on a date tonight?”

“Soonyoung,” Yerim scoffed and leaned closer, smirking at him, “For the nth time—no. I don’t like you and I will never date you. Stop being so fucking obnoxious all the time, thanks.”

Soonyoung tsked and shook his head, “You’re gonna get killed one day for talking like that to me.”

His words were barely audible but both Yerim and I caught it. Our heads whipped in his direction and he looked up innocently, blinking at us confusedly, “What?”

“Soonyoung, come to the wending machine.” Wonwoo abruptly stood up and smiled at his friend, however it didn’t reach his eyes, “Now.”

Wonwoo became demanding once Soonyoung made no sign of wanting to move and the blonde just sighed before getting up slowly, winking at Yerim before walking up to Wonwoo. Wonwoo swiftly grabbed his nape and pulled him away from us, making Soonyoung exclaim in annoyance. Yerim turned to look at me and I sighed, eating some more of my mashed potatoes.

“What is wrong with them?!” She whisper snapped as she watched me. I shrugged and ignored my friend, not wanting to think too deeply of what’s happened the past few minutes. Wonwoo was weird all day, but he’s been even weirder ever since they sat down to have lunch with us. Soonyoung’s words were even more unsettling and my head was a mess currently, I didn’t want Yerim questioning everything as well.

“Nothing.” I muttered back, head lowered as I tried to eat some more. Wonwoo took the fried cheese I gave him and I pushed the chicken wings to the side of my plate, I really hated them.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Y/N.” Yerim snapped and grabbed my elbow, making me look at her, “Something is very wrong with Soonyoung and we both know it. He’s giving me the creeps now more than ever before. Did you hear the things he was saying about Mina? How is that alright? How could he even think them and then say them—”

“I don’t know.” I snapped, getting pissed, “And I don’t want to know. This whole situation scares me and I’m not taking it well, okay? Everyone is talking about it and it’s making me lose my mind. I’m scared, okay? Can you at least, please, just drop it?!”

Yerim looked down and released my elbow, feeling bad for bringing this up again. I had already told her in the morning how scared I was of this whole ordeal, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you more. I just noticed things and wanted to tell you, because Wonwoo’s been weird too. He has always been, but today out of all days…he’s too quiet.”

“Wonwoo’s always quiet.” I chuckled and Yerim rolled her eyes.

“Not like this, you know what I mean…” She deadpanned and I huffed, turning back towards my plate.

“Whatever, you’re just being paranoid.”

“I’d rather be paranoid than dead.” Yerim muttered and I groaned, nudging her leg with mine underneath the desk. She giggled and started stealing the chicken wings off my plate as she glanced back, “I’ll take these before Soonyoung gets back and asks for them.”

I giggled and nodded at her, offering her my whole plate. I wasn’t full, but my appetite was long gone. I just wanted to be close to Wonwoo right now.

           I pulled the curtain to the side as I peeked out the window, eyebrows furrowing at the strike of lightning. The weather was horrible once again. It’s been raining almost the whole week. Mina’s murder was still fresh in everyone’s minds and people were cautious. It’s been three days only, after all. Today was her funeral and it was really sad. Many people showed up, although I preferred to stand towards the back, Wonwoo went ahead and offered his condolences to her parents who burst out in tears once they saw him. It made me realize how well liked Wonwoo was by the parents and elders in our town. He truly had a good soul and it was hard not to love him. My mother was working the night shift again tonight and as I didn’t feel comfortable staying home alone yet, Yerim and I agreed to have a sleepover tonight, however, she was still at the pool. She was a professional swimmer and she’s been training hard for the past half year for the upcoming national competition her team was to attend. I watched as the lighting struck again and waited for Yerim to pick up as my phone continued ringing. There was a chance she was still in the water, but I was hoping she wasn’t. We were supposed to meet half an hour ago, but she was running late.

“Hi!” Suddenly Yerim picked up and I smiled, closing the curtain, “Sorry, coach extended today’s training.”

She sounded breathless, “I figured, don’t worry. I still have some things to pack; do you want me to pick up pizza on my way to you?”

“Oh, pizza!” Yerim giggled and I heard someone shouting in the background for her, “One second coach—I’m supposed to be on a diet, Y/N, but sure.”

“Okay, one pepperoni pizza it is, then.” We both giggled.

“Wait—wasn’t I supposed to pick you up though?” Yerim asked and I went to my closet to take out my pajamas.

“You were, but since you’re running late I’ll drive myself, don’t worry.” The pool was a bit further from my house and I knew she was usually tired after practices; I didn’t want to burden her more.

“Thank you! See you!” I greeted her back before Yerim hung up and I finished packing the essentials before dressing up in my comfy sweater. It was actually Wonwoo’s but he gave it to me after I told him I liked the fabric of it. His cologne still lingered on it and I smiled as I nuzzled my nose against the collar of the black sweater. When he’d come over, every once in a while, he’d bring his cologne with him and spray it on the sweaters which were once his, so that I could feel him close to me even if he wasn’t here. It was a sweet gesture and it still brought butterflies to my stomach. There was another lightning strike and the thunder followed instantly, making me yelp at the loud rumble of it. My cat meowed loudly from the hallway and I opened my door, beckoning her over with a pout. She hated storms just as much as I did.

“Come, Byeol, this weather is driving me crazy.” She meowed back as if she understood me and jumped into my arms once I kneeled down to hold her. She nuzzled her head against my chin and I giggled, starting to pet her. She was a black cat with light green eyes which sparkled like stars, hence her name, Byeol. Mom bought her for me five years ago when I started complaining about being scared when she’d have her night shifts. I hated staying home alone at night until I got Byeol. She brought a sense of security with her and it made me appreciate her even more.

“I’m sorry for leaving you alone tonight, Byeol, you won’t be too mad at me, right?” I whispered at my cat as I played with her ears, she was purring loudly, “Mom will be back by five in the morning, so you won’t be staying alone for too long.”

Byeol meowed loudly and I chuckled kissing her head before placing her down on the floor gently and standing up to grab the charger of my phone, which I almost forgot to pack. I looked around the room and mentally checked off everything from my imaginary list of what I had to bring with myself to Yerim’s and picked up my backpack, making kissy faces at Byeol. She followed after me as I turned off the light in my room and walked down the hallway, headed for the stairs, when my phone suddenly started ringing. I looked down at the caller and saw Yerim was calling me, maybe she changed her mind about that peperoni pizza.

“Hi, Yerim—”

“Y/N!” Her voice was panicked and I stopped in my tracks, right at the top of the stairs, “Someone’s—following me!”

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, this was out of character for Yerim, “What? I don’t understand—what’s happening?!”

“I’m at the pool—” There was a loud crash and Yerim gasped, “I’m scared—a masked man—they are following me—”

“Yerim, are you being serious?!” My heart picked up as I raced down the stairs, backpack long forgotten as Byeol looked at me confused.

“Yes!” She exclaimed and she started whimpering, making my hands tremble, “They have a knife, Y/N!”

I could barely pull on my tennis shoes when I heard her words, “Hide!”

“I’m in the locker room but I couldn’t find the keys—” There was a loud bang and a sob left Yerim’s lips, bringing tears to my eyes.

“I’m on my way, I’m calling the police—”

“Don’t hang up, please!” Yerim was crying and I was shaking so badly that I could barely grab my keys.

“Yerim, I have to—” I was cut off by Yerim’s scream.

“No! No, stop! Please!”

“Yerim!” I screamed as I slammed the front door shut and struggled to lock it. I sprinted towards my car, ignoring the cold raindrops crashing against the pavement and myself, “Yerim, are you there—”

But another scream cut me off and I started crying, feeling helpless as I listened to my friend’s painful sobs. Just as I reached my car and unlocked it, the line went dead and I panicked even more, hands trembling so hard I could barely dial 112.

“112 what’s your emergency—”

“Please, I think someone’s murdering my friend! She’s at the pool on Wellington’s street, nr. 18. Please! Help her!”

“Ma’am, calm down, can you tell us your name?” The woman on the other side of the phone tried to calm me down, but I couldn’t hear her words. I had to get to Yerim before it was too late. I had already started my car and was pulling out of the garage as I started rambling mindlessly about where Yerim was and that they had to get to her right now.

“Ma’am, calm down and tell us your name.” The woman tried again and I wiped my tears away as I speed down the streets.

“My name is not important! Get to my friend! Her name is Kim Yerim for fucks sake!” I screamed as I rushed past a red light, barely avoiding getting hit. I didn’t care what happened, I only had Yerim in mind, I had to get to her. No, this couldn’t be happening. She’s playing a sick prank on me, she must be. Otherwise…no. No. No. It’s not the murdered. No. They aren’t targeting her, she’s probably just playing around—I slammed on the brakes when I saw someone crossing the road, screaming at them to get the hell away as I started driving again.

“Ma’am, where are you right now?” Suddenly, I heard the woman’s voice through my phone, forgetting I hadn’t hung up.

“In the car, I have to get to my friend.”

“You can’t drive in the state you are—”

“What do you know about that!” I snapped and took a harsh left turn, realizing I was just two blocks away.

“Ma’am, officers are already at the scene, your friend is safe.” The woman tried to calm me down but I shook my head.

“I’ll believe that when I see her with my own eyes.” I reached over and hung up, pulling up to the building as the flashing lights of police cars blinded me for a second. I parked the car and got out without turning the engine off, uncaring of the rain which drenched me in seconds, as I ran towards two officers who were just getting out of their cars.

“My friend—where is she?!” I asked breathless, but they just looked at each other and I didn’t wait for their answers, I pushed past them and ran inside the building. There were more police officers and I saw the entrance to the pool being tapped off, and I instantly knew. Something inside my stomach dropped. I heard nothing and I saw nothing. I had to know. I couldn’t just stand there and wait for the news to be delivered to me. So when three police officers noticed me and demandingly told me I had to leave, I pushed past them and sprinted to the doors leading inside the pool. They were already opened, and I could see everything. The blood. All over the floor, coloring the water. And I could see her. Face down. Floating in the water. Her black hair sprawled out around her. Her favorite swimming suit still on. My ears were ringing and my heart was thumping so fast I started seeing black. I couldn’t hear anything. I felt cold hands gripping my arms, but I couldn’t move. It’s like I was there, but I wasn’t. My hearing only came back when I found myself screaming her name and trashing around in the firm hold of the officers, who were pulling me away from the scene.

“No! Stop!” I screamed, sobbing loudly as I tried to fight them off still, “That’s my best friend! I need to see her! I need to be there for her! Don’t you understand?!”

“Bring her to the ambulance, give her a sedative.” I heard one officer say and I started shaking my head as my body went slack and I could only cry.

“But Yerim—” Suddenly I felt myself being lifted in someone’s arms and I curled into the person, crying loudly.

“It will be alright, miss, cry as much as you need.” A man, with a comforting voice, said reassuringly as I was outside again, the rain still pouring hard. I felt us running until the rain wasn’t hitting me anymore and I was sat inside an ambulance.

“Please—” I whispered, grabbing the officer’s hand as he went to pull away, “Save her.”

I saw sorrow in his eyes, as if he knew something I didn’t, as if he understood something I refused to believe in, “We will try our best, miss. Can you promise me you’ll stay here?”

I nodded and wiped my tears away, but new ones came rushing down my cheeks. I was cold. My body was shaking. I hugged myself and curled up into a ball as I tried to comfort myself, but nothing could bring comfort right now. I started mumbling, it was okay. Everything was okay. That wasn’t Yerim. Yerim was playing a prank on me. Yerim was hiding in the locker room and laughing her ass off, because she loved drama and attention. Yes, that is what was happening.

“Miss—miss—” I jumped when someone touched me and I grumbled at them to stay away from me, “Can you tell me your name?”

I didn’t want to talk, but when they asked me again, I snapped at them, “Kang Y/N!”

“Thank you,” The lady had a very calm voice and I felt her touch me again but I pulled my arm away, once again, “Can you tell me how old you are?”

“Why are you asking me all these questions?!” I snapped again, raising my voice, “You’re supposed to help my friend! Go help her!”

“I’m supposed to help you, Miss Kang—”

“No, because I’m fine—”

“Y/N?!” A familiar voice asked from behind the doctor lady and my eyebrows furrowed when I looked past her and came to see Soonyoung. Why was he here? What was he doing here?

“What?” I whispered confused, glancing back at the doctor who was preparing an injection and I started shaking again, “What are you doing with that?!”

The doctor said nothing as she sighed and walked closer, making Soonyoung protest as well, “Young man, stay out of this unless you want to be sedated as well.”

“Sedated?!” I exclaimed and went to stand up, but suddenly someone from behind held me down and I just realized I wasn’t sitting alone in the ambulance. I started trashing around, trying to free myself as the doctor was now standing right in front of me and I started crying once again when she started feeling around for my vein.

“Please go help my friend—” The doctor shushed me and I whimpered when the needle entered my skin, the doctor injecting the sedative inside my body.

“She’s in shock,” I heard her say as my muscles slowly started to loosen, as if they weren’t listening to me anymore, “She started calming down but you triggered her again, I’m asking you to step back and let her be.”

I realized she was talking to Soonyoung as I was laid down on the stretcher inside the ambulance and the doctor checked my eyes before nodding at someone. I was covered by a blanket and I sniffed as I continued crying quietly, my body feeling numb all of a sudden.

“You should rest now; everything will be alright.” I heard someone saying to me as I felt my eyelids get heavy and I tried shaking my head and telling them that I needed to be next to Yerim, but my mouth wouldn’t move.

“Can you let me stay with her? I’m her friend, I also knew Yerim.” I heard Soonyoung saying before he climbed inside the ambulance. Knew Yerim? Why in past tense? Yerim was fine, what was he talking about? Why is he here?

“It’ll be fine, Y/N.” I felt a hand patting my wet hair as my mind was slowly losing consciousness, “Yerim was a strong girl, but too stubborn for her own good. I just couldn’t help it…”

Before my brain could comprehend Soonyoung’s words, everything became black and I fell into a state of unconsciousness. Did I lose my best friend?

           It was all so blurry. The past two weeks. Everything went by quickly, Yerim disappeared so suddenly. She was here, next to me, laughing and being excited about her up-coming tournament one moment, and the next…I watched her coffin being lowered into the cold, wet ground. I had no tears left to cry at her funeral, I could only watch with a blank stare as her coffin was slowly getting covered by the dirt, swallowing her forever, robbing her from me. I felt nothing. My skin was cold, I was shaking. It was a sunny day and everyone wore short sleeves, but I was wearing a long sleeve and a coat. I could hear the priest saying a prayer, Yerim’s mother weeping next to me and her husband gasping for air, but I couldn’t actually hear them. It was as if I was underwater. Yerim’s smiling framed picture, which I was clutching, was the only thing reminding me that I was at the funeral, present physically, but so far away mentally. Someone held my shoulder, but I couldn’t be bothered to check who it was, I just shook their touch off and stared blankly at Yerim’s tombstone. I read her name, her year of birth and day of death, and I broke. The priest had just finished talking, ceremony ended, when my body started shaking violently, sobs raking my whole being. My legs were weak, and my feet hurt from the high heels I only wore because Yerim loved them and complained I never wore them. The sun was suddenly so hot, the coat and long sleeve were suffocating me, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t do this. I just couldn’t. Why did they kill her? What did she do? Why her? Why not me?! I knew my sobs turned into wailing and my feet gave up and suddenly, I was on my knees, clutching the framed picture to my chest and trying to find my breath, but my sobs wouldn’t let me. It hurt so much, my chest was in pain, it felt as if someone was trying to rip my heart out. Suddenly, I felt strong hands gripping me by the elbows as I was lifted up. My body was limp so I did not fight back when the person turned me around and cupped my cheeks. My mind was far gone from the present, from what was happening, but I’d recognize his hands anywhere, anytime. They were big, warm, and soft. Wonwoo’s thumb started rubbing my cheek reassuringly and I found strength to open my eyes, still sobbing. His face was emotionless, but his eyes were soft and I knew he felt powerless for not being able to support me. But I appreciated his presence here, he calmed me, the aching wasn’t as bad as before. I tried taking deep breaths, my sobbing coming to silently crying as I hoarsely apologized to Yerim’s parents for creating a scene right at the end of the funeral. They shook their heads and brushed it off, engulfing me in a big hug as Wonwoo stepped back, and they tried to cheer me up with reassuring words, but they only broke me more. They were so supportive and loving, they always let Yerim follow her dreams and encouraged her to become her better self. They did not deserve to lose their brilliant daughter in such an ill manner. When her parents let me go I bowed deeply to them and handed them her framed picture, making her mother cry again. Her father took it from me and then they turned their backs and slowly started walking away. I turned towards my mom and Wonwoo and nodded at them, ready to leave as well. I didn’t want to go yet, but I had to. I had to learn to live without my best friend. Without my other half. As we started walking away, my eyes fell on a figure dressed in all black, head hanging low. His blond hair made it easy to recognize him, it was Soonyoung. He was gazing absent mindedly at Yerim’s grave and my eyebrows furrowed as I watched him. He looked emotionless, something foreign to Soonyoung. His eyes seemed to be red, but he wasn’t crying. Suddenly, he took off towards the grave and before I could follow him with my eyes, Wonwoo squeezed my hand and asked me if I wanted to have some lunch his mother cooked. I wasn’t hungry, but I didn’t want to refuse. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch time. And my mother seemed to cheer up a little bit at the idea of seeing Mrs. Jeon, so I agreed to that lunch. And as my mother opened the door for me before going to the driver’s seat, I glanced back at Yerim’s grave and furrowed my eyebrows. We were far from it, but not so far that I couldn’t see Soonyoung’s face. And he was smiling. I felt goosebumps erupting on my skin as I quickly got inside the car, his words from when he sat with me in the ambulance as I was falling unconscious ringing through my mind, ‘I just couldn’t help it…’.

Everything was hard after the funeral. Time really went by fast and I found myself doing nothing but staring out of my head, reminiscing about all the memories I had with Yerim. We’ve been best friends since primary school. I had no other friends, nobody that could live up to her or to our bond. I had no one to talk to suddenly, no one to annoy and no one to listen to as they told their ridiculous stories. It was so hard. I couldn’t eat, some nights I couldn’t sleep, and I couldn’t focus in school or when I had to study. Wonwoo tried to help and studied with me for a hard test, but it did nothing as I failed it. The teachers were understanding and they weren’t pushing me too hard, but for how long would I have their pity? How long until they start calling me out and telling me to get a grip and move on? Sometimes, in the hallways, I would see Myoi Mina’s best friend and I understood. I understood the sorrow in her eyes, the way she wouldn’t even look at anyone else but the ground. How she’d jump at the tiniest sound and how she’d brush off anyone who tried to talk to her. I was like that too, although I was trying hard not to be, it just wasn’t working. A girl who knew Yerim tried to take her seat yesterday and I flipped and screamed at her horrendous things for trying to do so. I felt horrible after that, but it didn’t matter, I was sent to our school’s therapist. He didn’t do much, just gave me some tips on how to grieve, told me to contact him if I started feeling worse, and then sent me on my merry way. I was already feeling the worst, could this get any worse? Wonwoo was understanding, but I could see he was growing restless. He’d snap at me when I’d refuse hanging out with him for the fourth time that week, but he’d instantly apologize saying he understood and he was also dealing with grief. Yerim and him weren’t very close, but they spent a lot of time together because of me, of course he was grieving too. However, Soonyoung was nowhere to be found. Some say his parents took him away on a retreat after he snapped at his younger sister at home, Wonwoo wouldn’t talk about him when asked. It was strange. Their behavior. Wonwoo would become tense when anyone mentioned the killer but when I’d ask if everything was alright he’d become defensive and say he was just stressed.

Tonight was one of those nights when I was restless and couldn’t stay at home anymore, so I went for a walk. My mom was cooking dinner and after playing with Byeol, I grabbed my coat and told my mom I’d be taking a walk in the neighborhood. She asked me to be home in half an hour as it was getting dark and rainy clouds started gathering on the sky. I missed Yerim a lot, and I couldn’t help but think about how excited she’d get whenever it rained. One summer we went down to the lake and it started raining hard, but despite that, Yerim still went and swum in the lake, splashing me repeatedly, making me go in with her despite being scared. Without meaning to, I found myself walking by Yerim’s house. I glanced up at her window, but of course the light wasn’t on. Of course it wouldn’t be on, why would it be? Yerim wasn’t there studying. I wished she was so that I could convince her to hang out with me and Byeol, but she wasn’t here with us anymore. The front door to their house opened and I smiled when I saw her father walking down the porch stairs. He looked up and spotted me, waving at me, as he was headed towards me.

“Good evening, Mr. Kim.” I greeted him and he smiled, opening the gate for me.

“Hello there, Y/N. What brings you here?” His eyes had always reminded me of Yerim’s, and their laughter was the same.

“I was taking a walk in the neighborhood, and found myself wandering here…” Yerim’s father’s face seemed to lose the little happiness he displayed and he sighed, glancing back, up at Yerim’s window.

“I understand, sometimes I find myself walking up to her room in the mornings, wanting to wake her up…” I bit my lower lip and Mr. Kim sighed before looking back at me, “Would you like to come inside? My wife baked those muffins you two girls really like.”

I found myself smiling, Mrs. Kim’s chocolate muffins were the best, whenever she baked them, Yerim and I would devour them in an hour, “If I’m not bothering too much…”

“Non-sense, child.” Mr. Kim laughed and stepped aside, allowing me inside their property. I bowed my head a little at him and walked through the gate, “I’m headed to the supermarket, want anything?”

“No, thank you, Mr. Kim!” He nodded and patted my head before he left through the gate, walking down the street, headed for the closest supermarket. Mr. Kim had always been the father figure I never had. He had also always treated me as his daughter. He was the one who taught me how to swim and how to ride a bicycle as my mother was too busy at the hospital. My parents divorced when I was really young and my father disappeared after that despite promising to come by sometimes and pay for the allowance. I shook my head at the thought of my absent father and walked up to the front door, knocking on it before walking inside. There was some jazz music playing quietly in the background as the delicious muffin smell wafted through the air. I took off my shoes and coat, and walked towards the kitchen, knocking on the door, realizing Mrs. Kim didn’t hear me entering.

“Oh, you’re back—Y/N!” A wide smile spread on Mrs. Kim’s face when she saw me and she rushed up to me, hugging me tightly, “How lovely you stepped by! We haven’t seen you since—”

Since the funeral, “Right, I was out for a walk and found myself passing by. Mr. Kim and I just happened to run into each other, he invited me inside.”

“How smart of him,” Mrs. Kim chuckled; however you could see she wasn’t feeling as giddy as she was acting, “I just happened to bake your favorite chocolate muffins.”

And Yerim’s. I smiled gratefully at Mrs. Kim as she handed me two chocolate muffins, which were still warm, “Thank you.”

“I will pack some for you to take home. I baked too much either way, my husband and I don’t have a sweet tooth, I just missed the smell of it. Your mother loves them too, she’ll be happy for the small gift.” Yerim might’ve looked like his father, but she talked just as much as her mother. When you’d sit down with the two of them and listen to their stories, time would fly by and you wouldn’t even notice. They had a very captivating way of speaking, conversing with them never felt awkward or boring.

“Thank you, she will probably give you a call when she gets them.” I said with a chuckle and Mrs. Kim smiled.

“As she should, we haven’t talked in a while…” Since Yerim’s funeral, but she didn’t want to say it. I didn’t want to say it either. It felt nice being in their home after two weeks. I always felt so welcomed here. The house was bright and homey, Yerim and Mrs. Kim having decorated it in an eccentric way, which would sometimes give Mr. Kim a headache. I looked behind me and glanced at the stair leading upstairs as Mrs. Kim placed some muffins in a smaller bag. She turned back and noticed me staring back at the stairs.

“You can go up, if you want to—Yerim wouldn’t mind it, I know.” Mrs. Kim spoke up and I nodded at her gratefully, placing the muffins I was holding on the table, before hurrying up the stairs and beelining it for her room. I hesitated for a second before opening the door, preparing myself for her absence, but it still hit me hard when I opened the door to darkness. I gulped and turned on the light, blinking away the tears which suddenly sprung to my eyes. Her room was the same, messy but not exactly. Her closet door was slightly opened and I could see her pink hoodie spilling out and I chuckled as I walked over and grabbed it. I always told her to just hang her hoodies up, but she never listened to me. As I held it in my hands, Yerim’s sweet scent hit my nose and I bit my lower lip, taking a deep breath. I placed her hoodie on the bed and pulled my long sleeve over my head before pulling her hoodie on and closing my eyes. My skin got covered in goosebumps as I imagined Yerim sitting in her chair and complaining about me wearing her favorite hoodie, but secretly not being bothered by it at all. We always shared our clothes when we’d have sleepovers, even tried them on and did a fake fashion show or acted as if had to sell them to each other at ridiculous prices. The hoodie’s fabric slowly warmed up and I opened my eyes, looking around her room. Her parents haven’t touched anything and I was reluctant to do so too, so I sat down on her bed and started playing with my fingers. The book I recommended to her to read was on her desk, bookmark somewhere at the middle of the book. She never got to read the mind-blowing plot twist, it made me sad, she would’ve loved it so much. Feeling a bit stuffy, I stood up and opened the window before going back to her bed and jumping on it, sprawling out on it. Yerim’s bed was always so comfortable, her blanket puffy, and bed covered in stuffed animals. I turned onto my stomach and started humming my favorite song as I stared up at the pictures above her bed, smiling as most were with the two of us. Our favorite pictures or just really silly ones. Yerim had big dreams compared to me, I was still struggling to decide what to do after high-school. My eyes went to her nightstand and I grinned when I noticed her favorite strawberry candy laying in her jar. It was the last one. I would always steal it, so I did just that. Hopefully, wherever Yerim was, she could see me right now and she’d be frowning and shaking her head at me. I loved annoying her like that. I unwrapped the candy and slowly ate it, chuckling at myself and how silly I must look. As I threw the wrapper on the nightstand, my eyes widened when I noticed her phone next to her lamp. Her parents must’ve placed it there. It surprised me for some reason, and as I reached for it and grabbed it, a twig snapped outside Yerim’s window and something hit the window. I gasped loudly and turned around, coming face to face with Soonyoung, as he had just climbed inside. I quickly placed Yerim’s phone in the hoodie’s pocket, something told me to hide it from Soonyoung.

“What are you doing here?!” I asked alarmed, heart beating fast from the scare. Soonyoung looked around before leaning against Yerim’s desk.

“I was running and saw light coming from her room—”

“So you just climb inside?!” I asked accusingly and Soonyoung shook his head.

“No, I didn’t meant to, but I saw it was you and—” He cleared his throat and looked down at the floor, “I don’t know…I just felt the need to talk to you.”

It made me realize this was the first time seeing him since Yerim’s funeral. And based on rumors, he wasn’t even supposed to be home.

“Are you okay? I haven’t seen you in school and Wonwoo wouldn’t talk about you.” I asked and Soonyoung looked up with a cold gaze, he looked tired.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was visiting my grandparents for a week, and I didn’t feel like going to school this week, so yeah.” Soonyoung explained and I nodded, taking in his posture. His shoulders were slumped and his forehead sweaty. He was out running, after all.

“And you?” Soonyoung cleared his throat, “Are you good?”

I sighed and looked up at the ceiling, thinking through my answer, “On some days I’m good, on some days I can’t eat nor sleep. I’m feeling content at the moment, but maybe that’s because we’re standing in Yerim’s room and I’m wearing her hoodie and I can just trick myself into believing that she’s downstairs with her mom or taking a shower…”

Soonyoung nodded and crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking at the hoodie I was wearing, “That was her favorite.” I hummed and he licked his lips, starting to shake his head suddenly.

“You know—if only—” He scoffed and his eyebrows furrowed, “If only she wasn’t so stubborn. She just—she always refused to go out with me, never even gave me a chance. I tried to convince her so many times, you know, I was patient and nice, but—”

I watched as Soonyoung grew agitated and started walking up and down, “But I just couldn’t do it anymore, you know? It’s like, my brain just clicked and I snapped and—”

I was growing confused as I listened to Soonyoung rambling, what did he mean? Snapped and what?, “You snapped and what, Soonyoung?”

“I didn’t want to do it, I swear.” His voice grew low and when he stopped and faced me, he looked different. His expression was dark and his mouth was in a sneer. I gulped and stood up, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. Soonyoung didn’t seem to notice my discomfort as he hung his head low and sighed loudly.

“I just couldn’t help it…” I gasped. Those words again. What did he mean by them? He didn’t…no. This is Soonyoung, it’s impossible. He couldn’t have…no. He’s my boyfriend’s best friend, he’d never—he’s not a criminal!

“We should go.” I found my voice as I shook my head, growing afraid all of a sudden. Soonyoung was acting weird and I had to go home now. My words seemed to snap him out of his mumbling and he suddenly looked at me, face void of the previous darkness.

“You’re right…” He nodded and patted my shoulder, offering me a small smile, “Don’t tell her parents I climbed in though, I don’t want them to believe I did this often.”

I forced out a chuckle and watched as he climbed out the window and then jumped down, sneaking away from the Kim’s property. My heart was beating like crazy as I closed Yerim’s window and I clutched her phone firmly in my hand as I turned the light off and closed the door behind me. I always refused to listen to what Yerim has always told me, but maybe, just perhaps, there was something very wrong with Soonyoung.

           Today the sun seemed to finally come out, no rain clouds seemed to appear anytime soon. It was warm for an October day and I found myself sitting in the courtyard, drawing in my notebook to pass time. I wasn’t hungry, so it was useless to go to the Cafeteria. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone, so when this morning Wonwoo approached me and suggested going on a date after classes, I declined and told him I had to do some catching up in Biology class as I skipped the last two classes having felt unwell. He got moody and stormed off without a word, making me sigh. I was pushing away everyone from myself, but I didn’t know how else to cope with the loss of my best friend. It was the only thing that made me feel content. I drew some harsh lines, trying to create the skyline in my drawing, when I saw someone approaching from the corner of my eyes. I didn’t look up, thinking it was either Wonwoo or Soonyoung, but the girly scent which hit my nose once the person sat next to me on the bench made me turn my head and look at them. It came as a surprise to see Minatozaki Sana sitting next to me, Mina’s best friend. Her blonde hair was tied in a ponytail and she wore a sleeveless turtleneck underneath her cardigan. She looked better than on most days, but her eyes were quite empty. She was staring at me too and I blinked at her in confusion. We never really talked to each other; she was in an entirely different grade than I was.

“Hello.” She broke the silence and I cleared my throat.

“Hi.” I greeted back and looked down at her hand curiously as she extended it towards me.

“My name is Sana; we’ve never been formally introduced to each other.” She seemed like a very straightforward person. I nodded and shook her hand.

“Indeed, my name is Y/N.” Sana hummed and we let go of each other’s hands, “I’m sorry for you loss.”

“I’m sorry for your loss too.” Sana was quick to return my words and I chuckled humorlessly, bringing a sarcastic smile on her lips. She nodded at me and then turned away, gazing at the trees on the other side of the courtyard. I continued watching her, thinking she’d say something else, but she remained silent, even ignored me. Realizing our conversation ended here I shrugged and looked down at my drawing, continuing to draw those harsh lines. And like that, we sat in silence next to each other. Sana proceeded to take out a book and read, and in a weird way, it brought comfort to have someone sitting next to me. But it was weird, if it were Wonwoo or Soonyoung, they would’ve irritated me. Sana’s presence was relaxing, understanding. Words didn’t need to be exchanged, we understood. Our silence was louder than our words could’ve been. I found myself smiling, something I haven’t done in the past four weeks. I glanced at Sana from the corner of my eyes and she was smiling too, sneaking glances at me. Before we could say anything, we both started giggling and it felt so nice. It was so relieving, as if I released all the pent-up stress I had in my muscles.

“We must look so odd to someone if they have been watching us for the past fifteen minutes.” Sana said through her giggles and I shrugged my shoulders.

“That’s the nicest thing someone could be thinking about us at the moment.” I said and Sana nodded, our giggles coming to a stop. Neither of us had to say it, but after Mina’s death there were whispers about Sana. How she killed her best friend because she was jealous of Mina’s success as she was the cheerleading captain and just wanted her position. How they weren’t even friends and kept a façade because their families were friends. Some rumors spread about Sana being in love with Mina, who didn’t reciprocate her feelings, so Sana killed her in a fit of rage. They were awful. And as the students were gossiping about Mina, they were gossiping about me too. I heard the jealousy version too, the need for attention version too, and even the version where Yerim was in love with Wonwoo and I killed her because I couldn’t stand the thought. They were hilarious, but they still got to you after a while. Just last week, Wonwoo almost got into a fight because of a guy who dared to ask me how it felt plunging that knife into Yerim. If Wonwoo wouldn’t have punched the living daylight out of him, I would’ve definitely.

“Don’t let the gossips get to you, they are ridiculous.” Sana said with a roll of her eyes and I nodded, agreeing.

“I know, but they still get bothersome after a while…” I muttered and closed my notebook as the bell rang, signaling our break was over. Sana looked up at the sky for a second and then closed her book, placing it in her backpack.

“You could always just slap them, you know.” She said with a mischievous smile and I chuckled.

“Have you slapped anyone so far?” I asked and Sana pursed her lips.

“Of course, I have,” She stood up, “Johnny thought it was funny talking about my dead friend’s figure and how pitiful it was that he couldn’t sleep with her before she died.”

I didn’t know who this Johnny was, but he deserved that slap, “How disgusting.”

“Indeed.” Sana hummed and waited for me to pack my belongings and get up from the bench. We took off, headed to the side entrance to the school, when suddenly, the intercom went off and our principal’s voice came through.

“This is the principal speaking. I ask everyone to pack their belongings and head straight to the main entrance. All students have fifteen minutes to leave the premises, a dead body was found in the men’s bathroom on the third floor. I instruct everyone to leave right now, and do not try and approach said bathroom or there will be repercussions!” Sana and I stopped dead in our tracks and looked at each other before hurrying inside the school, you could only leave through the main entrance. The halls were full of students rushing to get out, it was chaotic. Everyone was pushing everyone around and I found myself reaching for Sana’s hand, keeping her close to me as a bigger guy almost ran into her. She thanked me quietly and we continued making our way towards the main entrance. My heart was racing and suddenly I was feeling sick. Another victim. Another crime. Who was it this time? And just as that thought crossed my mind, I suddenly felt my legs turn weak. Wonwoo. Where was Wonwoo? Soonyoung? Where were they? Were they fine? I couldn’t do this again. I felt like I was walking through water again, the entrance was just there, but it felt so far away. I felt Sana tugging on my hand and I followed her, trying to control my rigged breathing.

“Hey, look at me.” She said once we were outside and she pulled me to the side of the steps, “Breathe, Y/N, you’re turning red.”

I nodded and tried to take a deep breath, but my muscles were tense and I felt tears gather in my eyes, “Where’s Wonwoo?”

An understanding look crossed Sana’s face and she started looking around, “I am sure he is alright; he’s probably looking for you right now, just as scared. You need to breathe, Y/N.”

I nodded and closed my eyes, feeling Sana’s grip tightening on my hand, and I tried to breathe. It was hard at the beginning, my lungs seemed to refuse to listen, but at last I was able to take little breaths here and there. Before I could react to the disappearance of Sana’s grip, I was engulfed into a bear hug, held tightly to someone’s chest. I gasped and opened my eyes, my arms going around Wonwoo’s neck.

“Oh my God, you’re okay.” I whispered, a tear rolling down my cheek. Wonwoo’s breathing was shaky as well and he nodded, his hold crushing me.

“Yes, yes.” He whispered and kissed my head, “Are you hurt?”

“No.” I muttered and shook my head, pulling a bit back. Wonwoo’s eyebrows were furrowed and he was breathing hard, his hair fell into his eyes. I pushed it back and smiled at him, grateful that nothing happened to him. I really wouldn’t have been able to deal with losing him too in such a sort time after Yerim’s death. I leaned up and pressed a short kiss against his lips and I could feel Wonwoo’s muscles relaxing, his hold not tight anymore.

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you all break.” Wonwoo muttered, pushing my hair behind my ear.

“In the courtyard, I wasn’t hungry.” I answered and then looked down, “Sorry, I should’ve told you.”

Wonwoo shook his head and kissed my forehead swiftly, “No, it’s alright.”

I realized Sana was with me seconds ago and looked around, spotting her to our right, “Thank you.”

She smiled and nodded her head before she placed her backpack around her shoulders and started walking away. Wonwoo nodded at her and Sana greeted him back before disappearing in the crowd of people.

“You know her?” He asked quietly, almost sounding irritated.

“Not really, we talked for the first time today. But I knew who she was.” I explained and he nodded, looking off in the distance.

“You shouldn’t be friends with her.” Wonwoo sounded serious as his expression hardened and I stepped out of his hold, confused.

“Why?” But before he could answer me, Soonyoung came running up to us. His hair was disheveled and he was panting, a duffel bag in his hands. My eyebrows furrowed and I stepped back when he stopped next to me a little bit too close for my liking. I’ve been avoiding him since we met in Yerim’s room, scared of his sudden changes of mood. Soonyoung had a crazed look in his eyes and he was grinning from ear to ear as he looked at Wonwoo.

“Did you hear? The murderer killed someone again.” He sounded excited and my eyebrows furrowed when I saw Wonwoo’s lips twitching.

“Who was it this time?” Wonwoo asked, voice uncaring, but I didn’t miss the hint of smirk on his lips. I gulped, curious too, but a bit taken aback by the boys attitudes.

“Boo Seungkwan.” I gasped and took a step back again, eyes widening. I knew him. The two boys looked at me with raised eyebrows. I gulped and avoided their eyes, feeling uncomfortable.

“Are you sure?” I asked quietly, feeling a lump in my throat.

“One hundred percent, Y/N,” Soonyoung chuckled and he went and slung his arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders, “I was the one who found him.”

My head snapped up and I watched the two boys in front of me as they looked at each other and chuckled, and then my eyes fell on the duffle bag. It was zipped closed, but…it looked as if there was a darker spot on it. I squinted as I tried focusing on it, but Wonwoo’s voice caught my attention.

“Didn’t you know him, sugar?” He asked sweetly and I nodded, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah, I did, he—” I cleared my throat and scratched my arm in discomfort, “He’s been bullying me since kindergarten.”

“He must’ve had a crush on you, right, Wonwoo?” Soonyoung asked with a laugh and I grimaced, weirded out by their behavior and feeling bad for talking like that about a dead person.

“Well, he’s been put out of his misery, so, I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore.” Wonwoo’s voice was smug and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked at my boyfriend, who seemed amused by the whole situation. What was happening? Why were they reacting like this? Wasn’t Soonyoung supposed to be shaken up after finding a dead body? I shuddered, and Wonwoo noticed because his demeanor changed instantly and he shook Soonyoung off him and took a step toward me.

“Y/N, I’m—”

“I have to go.” I cut him off and hurried away before he could grab me and convince me to stay with the two of them. I glanced back when I was a good distance away from them and saw Soonyoung making some slashing motions with his hand while laughing and Wonwoo smirking at him as he dug his hands inside his pockets. There was something very wrong with Soonyoung, and I was getting more and more scared of him.  

           Despite the sun being out throughout the day, by the evening some dark clouds started gathering on the sky, lightning flashing in the distance. I sighed as I drew my curtains to the side and opened the window, letting some fresh air in before the rain could start. I figured we’d have another stormy night, great, my mom had the night shift again, I hated being home alone during storms. I could hear Byeol running up and down the hallway as I sat on my bed and I chuckled, she had the zoomies again. I was holding Yerim’s phone in my hands and I figured I couldn’t do much damage if I looked through her gallery. Before leaving the Kim’s house I asked if it was alright if I borrowed her phone for a while, and they said it was okay as long as I returned it. So, pulling my hair to the side I unlocked her phone and went to her gallery. She was very organized, even when it came to pictures. There were different folders for different themes, all labeled accordingly. I clicked on the one with our nicknames for each other and giggled at the first photo. It was taken when Yerim and I went to the movies and I accidentally got stuck in the bathroom as the lock was faulty. You could see my hands from above the stall and I remembered how loudly I was screaming as I had left my phone with Yerim. It was hilarious, but I prefer not repeating the incident. Then the next one was with her neighbor’s dog; she took a selfie as we both were petting it. Then there were a bunch of hilarious and cute selfies from our latest sleepover, a few pictures of Byeol, and our favorite picture which we took while hiking one day. I sighed and looked out the window, just in time to see the lightning strike again. The thunder followed almost immediately, but it wasn’t as loud as I expected it to be. I looked back down at Yerim’s phone and excited her camera roll, about to place her phone to the side, when Byeol came zooming inside my room, scaring the living daylight out of me. I yelped and watched as she stopped underneath my window before she jumped up on the sill, looking at me innocently. I grimaced at her and looked back down at the phone, having accidentally opened the call log. My eyes ran over the familiar names of people, mine being the last one. I was the last person Yerim called before she died. A lump formed in my throat and I gulped, noticing the unknown number underneath mine. Who could that have been? Maybe a scammer or a guy she newly met, however I doubted that was the case, she always saved the numbers she was talking to. Biting my lower lip, I debated calling the unknown number, but after all, I had nothing to lose. And curiosity was eating my alive. So, I clicked on the number and dialed it, waiting patiently for the person on the other side to pick up. However, a ringing sound not too far away from my window suddenly caught my attention and I knew I wasn’t hallucinating as Byeol’s ears perked up at the sound too. But before I could think more of it, my call was picked up, but there was only silence on the other end. My eyebrows furrowed as I stood from my bed and walked towards Byeol, lightly petting her head as I looked out my window.

“Hello?” I asked quietly, getting a strange feeling of being watched, so I closed the window and locked it quickly.

“Hi there, beautiful.” I jumped at the distorted voice. It sounded like a robot speaking, the voice was low but almost glitchy. I looked out the window, wondering who was this and why had they called Yerim?

“Who are you?” I asked curiously, figuring it was just someone playing a prank on me.

“Wouldn’t it be boring if I told you that?” The voice almost took a playful tone and I chuckled.

“Perhaps, it would ruin your fun too soon, right?” I decided to play along and the person chuckled.

“Smart girl, indeed, it would ruin my fun too soon.” There was a pause before they continued, “And I’m not done having fun yet.”

I hummed and started petting Byeol’s head again as she was staring out the window, “Why did you call Yerim?”

“I was just about to ask; how do you have your dead friend’s phone?” I paused for a second, eyebrows furrowing. So this person seems to know us well. First, they probably called Yerim and were pranking her and now they are playing with me. It’s probably one of our classmates then, Mark likes goofing around.

“You must know us well if you have her number.” I decided to feel around and try and find out who this was.

“Oh,” The person chuckled and it sent a chill down my spine, “I happen to know you very well, Y/N.”

I licked my lips and looked down at Byeol as she pulled her head away, having had enough of my petting, “Really? How?”

The person chuckled again and I watched as Byeol jumped down from the window sill and walked out of my room, “I can’t tell you all of my secrets just yet, beautiful, it’s our first time talking.”

“I don’t think it is,” I chuckled, “Mark.”

There was a pause before the person sighed, “Who’s Mark, beautiful?”

I rolled my eyes, amused, “Ha-ha, very funny. My classmate, obvious. You really like playing pranks on people, don’t you? I thought last week’s detention was enough for a lifetime.”

“What if I’m not Mark?” The voice sounded very serious all of a sudden and I bit my lower lip, tracing a rain drop on my window as it started lightly raining.

“Then who could you possibly be?” There was another lightning and I turned around when Byeol started meowing loudly in my doorway. She was hungry, again, “I’m bored of this game—”

I turned to face the window again but instead of finishing my sentence, I cut myself off with a loud scream. A masked person was standing outside my window, and I started shaking as I froze for a second. It was…a Ghostface.

“Auch, beautiful, that was loud.” The Ghostface whined and I quickly drew the curtains closed, pulling down the blinds too, “What are you doing? Let me see you—”

“Who are you?!” I cut the person off, almost screaming as I ran out of my room, Byeol following agitatedly behind me. I checked the front door quickly, making sure it was locked before I went to check the door in the living room as well.

“Just a Ghostface, beautiful.” The person answered nonchalantly and my heart started beating fast as I hid behind the sofa, pulling Byeol into my chest. She made no sound as she gazed at me with her big green eyes.

“Stop calling me beautiful!” I snapped and tried to take deep breaths, debating on calling the police from my own phone. Who was this? What did they want? Were they…were they here to hurt me? What if…what if they were the killer? I felt dread flush over my whole being and I swallowed my tears and blinked my eyes continuously. I had to stay focused, if I was in danger, I had to save myself somehow.

“Did I scare you, beau—”

“Did you kill Kim Yerim?” I cut the Ghostface off, voice shaky as I waited for an answer. The person’s laughter made me shudder and Byeol wrestled herself out of my arms and meowed loudly at me for holding her so tightly. I felt sorry, but I was scared, and I was trying to hold her close to myself in case we needed to escape.

“Maybe I did.” There was a pause and I gasped, “Maybe I didn’t.”

I sprung up to my feet, acting out of pure terror, as I ran up to my room and grabbed my phone. I was too scared to look out of my window to see if the person was still there. There was a loud thunder and I screamed as the line went dead, leaving me shaking. Was the Ghostface gone? Shakily, I placed Yerim’s phone on my desk and slowly raised the blinds, scared of seeing the Ghostface outside of my window still. But nobody was there. I was scared, shaking, and on the verge of crying. Byeol was downstairs and the rain started falling harder. I couldn’t stay alone tonight; it would kill my nerves. So I quickly unlocked my phone and dialed my boyfriend’s number, pacing up and down in my room as I waited for him to pick up. Something rustled outside of my window and I froze when I faintly heard Wonwoo’s familiar ringtone, but the thunder swallowing the sound was louder and it made me feel stupid. Why would Wonwoo be right outside my window unannounced either way? What was he? A burglar? Wonwoo picked up on the third ring.

“Hi—”

“Can you sleepover tonight?” I cut him off, words hurried as I fixed my eyes on my window, starting to shake again.

“Are you alright?” Wonwoo sounded concerned and I heard rustling on the other end.

“No, are you coming over?”

“I’m on my way.” Wonwoo said before hanging up and I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. This was good. I wouldn’t be alone. Wonwoo would come by and sleep here. I took deep breaths as I paced around my room, Byeol sat in the doorway and watched me with a confused look on her face. I chuckled when I looked at her and tried not to think about the Ghostface and our conversation. It freaked me out. Who was behind the mask? And why would they want to prank anyone in this kind of way? It was distasteful and creepy, I was scared. Just as Byeol meowed she reminded that I forgot to feed her, the doorbell rang. I paused and looked at Byeol, my heart suddenly racing again. Who was that? Wonwoo lived twenty minutes away from me and it wasn’t even five minutes since I had called him, it couldn’t have been him. Was it…the person wearing that Ghostface mask? My heart started beating fast again and I glanced at Byeol as she started meowing loudly and took off towards the front door. The doorbell rang again and I hurried after my cat, calling out her name quietly.

“Stop!” I whisper-shouted, motioning at her to come to me, but she was ignoring me. Her meows were loud and I cursed quietly as I creeped towards the front door, convinced that it wasn’t Wonwoo, but that masked person. I should call the police. Suddenly there was loud knocking on the front door and I jumped as Byeol glanced at me.

“Y/N?!” Wonwoo’s deep voice made me sigh in relief as I quickly unlocked the front door and opened it for him. His hair was drenched and his jacket and jeans were wet too, it was pouring outside now. Byeol started meowing as Wonwoo stepped inside and he smiled at her, kneeling down to muzzle his face against her head. Byeol loved Wonwoo and they always played together a lot when Wonwoo came over. But…how did he get here so fast?

“Wonwoo—you’re drenched.” I muttered suspiciously as I helped him out of his jacket. He suddenly looked at me with a wide smile, ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, I was on my way here when the rain started.” He said with a shrug and I hung his jacket on the hanger.

“But you got here really fast…” I trailed off and watched him take off his shoes before he gave Byeol a swift kiss.

“Oh, yeah, I was already on my way—”

“Why?” I asked accusingly, eyebrows furrowed, and arms crossed in front of my chest. There were too many weird things happening today, I was freaked out. I couldn’t decide if my thoughts were real or I was being delusional. Could I seriously not trust my own boyfriend anymore? But he gave me no reasons…

Wonwoo looked taken aback by my tone and words, “Uhm…I just wanted to surprise you? You told me your mom was working the nightshift and I know you hate storms…”

He was right, I was overreacting, “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry—it’s just, lately I’m so jumpy.”

Wonwoo smiled and approached me, cupping my cheeks, “I noticed, but it’s fine. Things will get better eventually.”

I nodded and kissed his lips, their warmth bringing a sense of tranquility as I stepped closer to him. Wonwoo’s grip got firmer and our lips started moving against each other as I circled my arms around his neck, his wet hair tingling my wrists. One of his hand’s gripped my waist, and I hummed when his familiar scent hit my nose. It felt nice kissing him, I’ve been keeping my distance from Wonwoo, feeling uncomfortable lately with any physical contact besides a brief hug. And this felt nice now. His familiar lips, and firm grip, musky scent, I realized I had missed them. Byeol’s loud meowing broke us apart and I chuckled as I pressed another kiss against Wonwoo’s lips.

“Poor cat, she’s hungry…can you feed her while I bring you a towel?” I asked and Wonwoo nodded with a smile, releasing me from his hold as I turned and headed to the bathroom. Byeol followed Wonwoo as they headed into the kitchen and I could hear him pouring the cat food into her little bowl. I got a clean towel and then walked to the kitchen, handing it to Wonwoo.

“Do you want tea or hot chocolate?” I asked with a grin as I grabbed two mugs. Wonwoo pursed his lips and pulled out his glasses from the pocket of his hoodie.

“It’s a hot chocolate kind of night.”

“Right?!” I asked with a chuckle and he nodded at me amused.

“Do you still have my spare clothes?’ Wonwoo asked and I chuckled as I glanced back at him.

“What do you think?” He smirked at me and pushed up his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, “They are in the laundry room.”

Wonwoo thanked me and then walked away, leaving me with Byeol in the kitchen. While she quietly ate her food I prepared the hot chocolate for Wonwoo and I. He took his time to change out of his wet clothes and dried his hair with the towel as best as he could. When he joined us in the kitchen again, the hot chocolate were already ready and Byeol was somewhere off in the house, probably sleeping as she had just eaten. I handed Wonwoo a mug as he approached me and he thanked me with his signature gummy smile. I had always loved his smile, it made him look so cute. It was a nice contrast compared to his usual poker face. Wonwoo wasn’t very expressive usually, but when it was just the two of us, he could be very cute. He interlaced our fingers as we drank our hot chocolate and I giggled, raising my eyebrows at him.

“I missed you.” He whispered, looking down at his mug. I bit my lower lip and felt bad for pushing him away for so long, but I needed the space. I still do, but it’s not as bad as after the funeral.

“I’m sorry, I just felt uncomfortable around people after…” I trailed off and sighed, taking a sip of my hot chocolate. Wonwoo squeezed my hand.

“I understand you, and I’m not pressuring you in any way. It must hurt like hell losing your best friend.” I gulped a bit harder and glanced at Wonwoo briefly, noticing the change in his behavior. There it was again, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. It was confusing.

“Yeah, it hurts a lot. I hope the criminal is caught soon so that I can face them—”

“And what would you do?” Wonwoo sounded curious as he turned his body to face mine. I raised an eyebrow at him as I shrugged.

“That they are a piece of shit and I hope they rot away in prison until they get to root in hell.” Despite me being dead serious, Wonwoo started laughing and I pulled my hand out of his, slightly irritated.

“You’re hot when you get fired up, sugar.” Normally his compliments would leave me feeling giddy, but we were talking about the murderer of my best friend right now, there was nothing hot about it.

I shot Wonwoo a glare before walking to the sink to wash my mug, “I thought we were having a serious conversation, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo sighed and approached me, still sipping his hot chocolate, “Come on, I was just joking—”

“Well it’s not funny!” I snapped, looking at him, “Yerim was murdered and you’re telling me I’m hot when I talk about her murderer?!”

“No, that’s not hot, I was just saying you are—nevermind, I’m not in the mood to fight. You’ve been ignoring me for three weeks and when we finally get to spend some time together you’re just getting angry at me.” Wonwoo sounded accusing as he placed the mug forcefully in the sink and I rolled my eyes.

“What did you expect me to do? Jump in your arms the day after my friend’s funeral—”

“You didn’t have to push me away!” His voice raised and I turned to wash his mug too, hating it when he started getting loud while arguing, “I get that you don’t let me touch you, but you wouldn’t even speak to me, Y/N! If I knew you’d be like this I wouldn’t have let Soonyoung—”

I paused, turning to look at Wonwoo. He seemed speechless as he stared at me wide eyed, shaking his head. I turned off the water and faced him.

“What the hell are you even saying?” I asked confused, trying to comprehend his words but I didn’t understand what he was talking about. What had Soonyoung to do with our argument right now? What did he do?

“Nothing, I’m just—” Wonwoo shrugged and took a deep breath, composing himself, “I just missed you, that’s it. I hate arguing with you, you know that.”

“Yeah, well,” I scoffed and dried my hands in a towel, “I wouldn’t be arguing with you if you tried to understand my feelings—”

“I do understand.” He cut me off and my jaw clenched as I gave him a glare.

“I don’t feel it, but whatever, do you want to watch a movie or what?” Honestly, I wasn’t in the mood to watch anything, I just wanted to go to sleep, but I knew Wonwoo would bother me until I wasn’t grumpy.

“Do you want to watch one?” Wonwoo asked with a sigh, knowing that our previous conversation was over.

“No.” I muttered and he looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath.

“Do you want to go to sleep?” I nodded wordlessly and he pulled me into a hug, making me roll my eyes. I didn’t want to be hugged right now, but I didn’t push him away, just didn’t reciprocate the hug, “It’s still early to go to sleep.”

It wasn’t that early, but he was right, I would wake up during the night, probably, “Whatever, I want to go to bed.”

He groaned and suddenly I felt his hands gripping my thighs as I was hauled up, I yelped and grabbed onto him, “What are you doing?!”

Wonwoo said nothing as he took off and headed up the stairs, towards my room. He pushed the door open with his foot and walked towards my bed, before I could ask him to let me down, he fell forward, crushing me against the bed with his weight. I groaned as my bed’s mattress wasn’t soft.

“Wonwoo…” I muttered with a glare, grabbing his shoulders to push him off. He whined and didn’t move as he nuzzled his head in my neck, “You’re too heavy.”

“And you’re too grumpy.” He muttered and I slapped his shoulder, making him chuckle. I wanted him off, but he wasn’t budging. Before I could interject, he started pressing kisses against my neck, knowing well I was ticklish there, but I tried to keep my laughter in as I tried wrestling out from underneath him. Wonwoo was having the time of his life as he started laughing and tickling my sides too, making me cry out in despair as I hated being tickled.

“Stop! Wonwoo!” I tried to push his hands away, but it was futile. Wonwoo was giggling and quickly kissed my lips before he finally stopped tickling me, smiling at me mischievously. I glared at him and as I went to smack his arm, Byeol decided to join us as she jumped up on Wonwoo’s back. I started laughing as Wonwoo hissed, Byeol’s nails dug into his back, he deserved it after torturing me here.

“Hey, Byeol!” Wonwoo started shaking his back, trying to get my cat off of him, but it wasn’t working, so I started poking her, trying to get her off his back. And it worked, because Byeol jumped off and Wonwoo finally got off of me as well to start playing with my cat. He got on the floor and started pushing her lightly around, making Byeol land on her side as she started turning around, attacking Wonwoo’s fingers and jumping on his hand. I chuckled and left the two to play as I went to the bathroom to change into my pajamas and brush my teeth. I was too tired to shower, so I tried to be quick and when I walked back inside my room, Wonwoo and Byeol were still playing. I poked Byeol to rile her up more and she lunged for Wonwoo’s hand, making him hiss as I plugged in my phone. I looked at him and Wonwoo was glaring at Byeol.

“Did she scratch you?” I asked as Wonwoo got up and sat on my bed.

“Yeah.” He nodded and showed me his hand, two long, red, scratches decorating his hand. I pouted at him mockingly and kissed the scratches before laying down in my bed and pulling the blanket over my body.

“Don’t worry, soldier, those scratches won’t kill you for now.” I said mockingly and Wonwoo rolled his eyes, pulling the blanket over my head, but I managed to punch his bicep, making him groan. I giggled and pulled the blanket off, sticking my tongue out at him, “Are you coming to bed?”

“Nah,” Wonwoo stood and walked to my computer, “I want to play COD before I go to sleep.”

“Fine,” I muttered and closed my eyes, “but don’t stay up until late and check if we locked the front door before you come to bed.”

“Okay, mom.” Wonwoo muttered and I rolled my eyes, “Good night.”

“I love you.” I whispered and sighed, getting comfortable as Wonwoo turned off all the lights in my room and only left on the one at my desk. I heard Byeol moving around, no doubt she went to sleep in Wonwoo’s lap as he started playing Call of Duty.

           After Wonwoo left I had a whole three days to think about everything that’s been happening lately and they way Soonyoung and him were acting from time to time. It was getting quite obvious that there was something wrong with Soonyoung and it seems like only Yerim had noticed until now. The boy gets upset at the smallest of things and he’s always saying some fucked up shit about the people he doesn’t like, and it almost always involves a comment about how the Earth would be better off without them and that he could slay them in their sleep. I never paid attention to these comments because I thought he was just joking as he has always had a dark sense of humor. But it didn’t make sense why he was at the pool on the day Yerim died. I was the last person she called and somehow Soonyoung knew about her death. Was he perhaps nearby? But why would he be? Yerim refused to go on a date that evening, so there was no reason for Soonyoung to show up there. He was tough to deal with, but if he was told no, he wouldn’t bother you for a while. And his words kept bothering me still, ‘I just couldn’t help it’, what did he mean by them? What has he done? Wonwoo’s slip up about how he wouldn’t have let Soonyoung do whatever also didn’t sit right with me. I wished there was someone I could talk to about these crazy thoughts, but I knew how it would sound. Was I accusing Soonyoung of killing Yerim? Not exactly, but it started sounding like that. Was I suspecting my boyfriend’s best friend about being a murderer? I tried not to, but it was becoming difficult. So I decided to try and talk to him, sort things out with Soonyoung without accusing him of anything, just ask him all of the questions I desperately needed an answer to and everything would be alright. But Soonyoung started avoiding me, he wouldn’t talk to me if it was unnecessary and he’d only sit with me if Wonwoo was with us, and even then, he remained quiet. It was weird, Soonyoung talked a lot. I brought it up to Wonwoo and he said not to think too much about it as it was Soonyoung and his talkativeness depended a lot on his mood. I tried to explain to Wonwoo that I didn’t care about that, that it was his attitude which changed and that I wasn’t able to talk to him because he was avoiding me or ignoring me, but Wonwoo just shrugged it off and said that he didn’t notice anything weird with him. I knew it was futile to press the matter more, so I let it go and focused on other things. Sana and I started hanging out in the long breaks and it felt nice to have a girl to talk to again. However, one day, she freaked me out a bit.

“Did you notice how every murdered person has something to do with you so far?” She had asked as she took a bite of her sandwich. I had choked on my smoothie upon hearing her words.

“No? What are you talking about?” I had asked confused, goosebumps erupting on my skin.

“Well,” She had started saying as she gazed up at the sky, “Yerim was your best friend, you’ve known Seungkwan since you were little and well…you sort of knew Mina too, she was Wonwoo’s ex.”

Yes, I had known all these people, but I couldn’t follow Sana’s train of thought, “Yeah, but…it’s not like I’m the only one who knew them…”

“True,” Sana had hummed and then had looked at me, “Whatever, ignore what I said. I’ve just been thinking about it.”

So, we moved on with our conversation after that, however, her words made me think hard about what she had said. Somehow, she wasn’t wrong. I had known all three people, even if not from very close, they did have a significance in my life at some point, it made me shudder again. I thought about bringing it up to Wonwoo when we were hanging out after class, but I was scared he’d think I was going crazy. I was just desperate to find out who murdered and why my best friend, and all these other people. And what if I was the serial killer’s next target? Nobody was safe.

           Time flies by so fast you don’t even notice it. It feels like Yerim’s funeral was yesterday yet it’s Halloween already. Almost two months have had passed since losing her, and I was still getting used to it. I couldn’t say it was easier, but I was doing slightly better. Today was a particularly hard day as Halloween was Yerim and I’s favorite holiday. We’d always dress up in our favorite character at the moment and throw a small house party for our close friends. The rules were that we’d go trick or treating to each other and before midnight we’d gather at a bonfire and tell scary stories which have happened to us. It was a lot of fun each year and we couldn’t wait for it; however, it was my first Halloween without Yerim and it didn’t feel right. I was feeling nauseous all day long and quite moody as the weather had gotten colder too. Sana noticed my grumpiness and once I told her what the issue was she left me alone. Wonwoo wasn’t so understanding as we had talked about going to a Haunted House for fun months ago. He said he understood yet he was pressuring me in going with them. He promised it would be fun and that I shouldn’t stay at home and sulk all night long. I wasn’t sulking, I was trying to cope with the absence of my best friend, but it seemed like he didn’t understand that. So, very reluctantly, I agreed to go with him to the Haunted House. A few of his friends would be joining us, so I figured asking Sana if she’d like to come wouldn’t hurt anyone. She seemed quite excited once I told her and she promised to pick me up at around nine as Wonwoo wanted to go out beforehand with his friends. That was fine with me, I wasn’t in the mood to hang out with drunk teenage guys either way. They would get loud and pushy; I knew someone would bring up Yerim and it was the last thing I needed tonight. Mom was happy to see me going out and even encouraged me when I asked her to braid my hair. I wasn’t in the mood to go shopping for a costume, so I dressed in last year’s witch outfit. Nobody would care either way. Only Yerim actually cared, and she wasn’t here. Last year I was the one hosting the small party and I figured since I had a black cat I should dress up as a witch, it was a total success. Everyone loved the look and the vibes.

As nine o’clock approached, Sana texted me that she was right outside my house and after mom kissed my cheek and told me to have fun I left the house and jogged up to Sana’s extravagant car. They were quite rich and despite her being humble, her things screamed rich girl vibes.

“Hi!” She greeted me excited and I waved at her as I sat inside the car, “How are you?”

I sighed and closed the door, “Well, I had better days.”

“You look amazing though,” She patted my thigh and I nodded wordlessly, “If at any point you feel uncomfortable and want to come home, don’t feel hesitant to tell me. I’ll drive you.”

I felt my heart warming at her comment and gave her a genuine thankful smile, “Thank you.”

Sana wasn’t Yerim, and she’d never be, but it felt nice to have someone who was so understanding and kind. She’s shown me nothing but kindness since we started talking and it was refreshing. Sana was soft spoken and quiet usually, she didn’t speak unasked and often times we’d just sit in silence next to each other, enjoying each other’s presence. She was the total opposite of Yerim, yet we seemed to get along well. Sana made me feel seen and understood when nobody else could, perhaps that’s why I felt a little attached to her. I could only hope that she felt the same about me and didn’t think I was cold to her.

Once we got to the Haunted House the place was buzzing with people, everyone was excited for the new addition of the Amusement Park. It was a Halloween special and it was the first year they had opened a Haunted House for Halloween. Yerim would’ve loved coming here, we’ve discussed our outfits for tonight quite often and how much fun we’d have at the Haunted House, but now I had to do all of that alone. I owed it to her at least. Finding Wonwoo wasn’t hard as he and his friends had come with their bikes and they were gathered at the entrance of the Park, being loud and annoying. Sana followed after me as I was headed their way. I spotted Wonwoo next to his motorbike and walked towards him, catching his attention when I got nearby. He grinned at me and opened his arms once I was next to him, pulling me in a big hug.

“Hello, beautiful.” I smiled and pulled back, kissing his cheek. His friends got quiet and I faced them, waving at everyone. They greeted me back and I glanced at Sana before clearing my throat.

“This is Sana,” I introduced her to everyone, and starting from our left started introducing the boys, “That’s Minghao, Vernon, Soonyoung and Jeonghan.”

“Nice to meet you!” Sana smiled and the boys quickly greeted her, Minghao shaking her hand and introducing himself individually too. I chuckled and looked at Wonwoo who was smirking. Minghao wasn’t very interested in girls, but when he was, he made it quite obvious and Sana was a gorgeous girl. Jeonghan was smirking to our right as he watched me and I noticed, so I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Looking quite ravishing, Y/N.” Jeonghan said in a flirty tone and I felt Wonwoo’s arm tightening around my shoulders. Jeonghan was quite flirty, even with me. I used to think he was annoying, but after getting to know him better, I realized he flirted even with his guy friends, I figured it’s just the way he was. Besides, he was no threat when it came to Wonwoo, I was too in love with my boyfriend to find any other guy interesting enough. Sometimes I wished Wonwoo understood that too and stopped being jealous, but I figured he was just the possessive type.

“Thank you, interesting choice of outfit, Jeonghan.” I commented, making Soonyoung laugh as he pushed off his bike. I glanced at him but he was avoiding eye contact, still.

“Who dresses up as a cat, Jeonghan?” Soonyoung teased but Jeonghan just shrugged and pushed his long hair behind his shoulders.

“I do, why? Are you falling in love with me?” Jeonghan started leaning towards Soonyoung who flicked him off and grabbed his backpack off his bike.

“Yeah, right.” He muttered sarcastically and Minghao smiled, speaking up.

“Are we going in then?”

“Yes, let’s go!” Vernon said with excitement lacing his voice and I nodded, sighing quietly. Wonwoo noticed and looked down at me.

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly as we took off towards the ticket booth. I nodded and pressed a kiss against his lips, bringing a smile on his face. He bopped our noses together before we joined the others in line, waiting to buy our tickets too.

           The night seemed to be going well, everyone was having fun. Sana and Vernon seemed to be hitting it off quite well, much to Minghao’s disappointment. Jeonghan kept giggling as Minghao continued sulking while we watched Sana and Vernon play a shooting game in order to win a pink teddy bear. Sana really wanted it, but after missing almost all targets she walked away sulkily and that’s all it took Vernon to try his luck, and he seemed to be doing really well.

“Does our little Vernon have a new crush?” It was the first time in a while Soonyoung addressed me directly and I looked at him surprised. Was he done ignoring me and avoiding me?

“Who knows, but I don’t blame him.” I said with a shrug and Soonyoung looked at me.

“Good for him, she never liked me.” Soonyoung sounded a little bitter and it made me remember that Wonwoo and Mina once were together, of course Soonyoung and Sana knew each other. But I didn’t know he was into her…much like he was into Yerim as well. Interesting pattern, I thought to myself as my eyebrows lightly furrowed. Soonyoung seemed to notice and he cleared his throat, looking off in the distance.

“Do you want some cotton candy?” He asked as he took out his wallet.

“No, thank you, Wonwoo is buying some caramel popcorn for us.” I declined nicely and Soonyoung nodded.

“I’ll be right back.” He said before walking off to the cotton candy booth, buying one for himself. I continued watching Vernon and Sana as they both laughed, trying their luck for another plushie, this time it was a blue shark. Wonwoo was buying popcorn not far away and Jeonghan and Minghao decided to ride a very scary looking roller-coaster. They didn’t want to come to the Haunted House with us so we agreed to meet in an hour at the Ferris-wheel as we had to wait a little for our tour at the Haunted House. They only let in around ten people at every half an hour. Chuckling at Vernon’s dramatic fail at hitting the last target, I noticed someone in my peripheral vision. The person seemed to be approaching me and as I turned my head a wide smile erupted on my lips. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I hadn’t seen him in ages. It was Seonghwa, my ex-boyfriend. He was my first serious boyfriend and I only had fond memories of him. We parted on friendly terms and have been civil with each other ever since. He moved away two years ago, so it was a surprise to see him here.

“Seonghwa!” I exclaimed as I ran up to him and engulfed him in a hug. He giggled and hugged me back just as tightly. He had gotten taller since the last time we saw each other. He still had that bubble gum scent, it made me giddy.

“Y/N, I would’ve never thought we’d meet here of all places!” He said with a laugh as we let go of each other and took a small step back.

“Right?!” I chuckled as we smiled widely at each other, “I didn’t even know you were back in town!”

“Yeah, it’s a brief visit, so I didn’t tell anyone.” He scratched his nape awkwardly, “I wasn’t even supposed to be here, but San and Wooyoung dragged me here because of the Haunted House.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s a hot topic at the moment. I wasn’t in the mood to come, but I promised Wonwoo we’d go so…” I trailed off with a sigh and Seonghwa nodded.

“How is he?” He asked with a polite smile and I shrugged, looking around for him.

“He’s fine, just the usual.” I answered and Seonghwa nodded.

“I, uh—” He cleared his throat, “I heard what happened to Yerim. I’m very sorry for your loss. She didn’t deserve that.”

I looked away and gulped, hating that she was the topic, but I knew Seonghwa didn’t mean bad, “Thank you, she really didn’t. She was taken from us so early…”

Seonghwa gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “I’m always here for you, I hope you know that.”

“I do.” His words brought a smile to my face, even after breaking up, Seonghwa was always there to support me and cheer me up until he had to move away. He was a kind soul always looking out for others, “How’s your grandma?”

“She’s the reason I’m visiting, actually, she’s not doing so well.” Seonghwa’s voice lowered and he looked down, it was my turn to offer him a reassuring pat.

“I’m sad to hear that, I hope she gets better.” Seonghwa nodded and I could hear them before seeing them. Wooyoung was almost screaming as he was telling San to let him go to the teddy bear booth. He wanted to get the blue shark Vernon lost, but San wasn’t letting him as he had spent too much money already. Seonghwa and I looked at each other before we burst out laughing.

He shook his head and sighed tiredly, “I better go and do some damage control before we get kicked out.”

I laughed and nodded, ushering him away, “When are you going to the Haunted House?”

Seonghwa glanced at his wrist watch, “In about ten minutes.”

“Oh, that’s great! Us too!” Seonghwa had an excited smile on his face as he waved at me and quickly ran up to San and Wooyoung, who were full on arguing by now. I chuckled and shook my head, but quickly jumped when someone gripped my arm.

“Who was that?” Wonwoo’s deep voice whispered in my ear and I turned to face him with a grin.

“Seonghwa!” I answered him and Wonwoo hummed as he released me and looked after Seonghwa who was now standing in between San and Wooyoung, talking and making exaggerated hand gestures. I had to laugh as I watched them. Wonwoo had known about Seonghwa, but he’s never seen him in person. Wonwoo and I started dating a few days after Seonghwa moved away.

“And those two idiots are his best friends, San and Wooyoung.” I explained to Wonwoo as he started eating our popcorn, “They are very loud, argue almost all the time and like to cause trouble. Poor Seonghwa…sometimes I pity him for having left him alone with those two devils.”

Wonwoo gave me a quick glance before he interlaced our fingers and pulled me away, walking us towards the Haunted House, “Well you’re not their mother, so I’m glad I stole you away.”

I rolled my eyes and gave Wonwoo a look, “You didn’t steal me away, dumbass, Seonghwa and I had broken up a year before I started dating you. The only thing you stole is my heart.”

My last comment brought a smug grin on Wonwoo’s lips and he kissed me before acting like nothing happened, “I love you.”

I laughed and leaned closer to him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

Wonwoo looked at me from the corner of his eyes, “You did.”

“No, I didn’t.” I shook my head and pouted at him.

“Yes, you did.”

“How could I, everyone is so loud and you were speaking so quietly.”

“I love you.” Wonwoo said with a groan, louder this time, and I giggled as I punched his stomach playfully and grabbed some popcorn into my hands. He rolled his eyes and rested his arm around my shoulders as we spotted the others in front of the Haunted House staying in line and joined them.

            The Haunted House was a twenty-minute walk and it was quite well done. I got a good scare right as we started the tour, a killer doctor jumped in front of Wonwoo and I, and I screamed the loudest, scaring Sana and Vernon who were behind us. Wooyoung and San, who were at the front with Seonghwa, started laughing at me and I stuck my tongue out at Wooyoung. However, he got his payback when a black fake spider was dropped on his head and he almost passed out from screaming so loud, making the whole group erupt in loud laughter. Vernon seemed to like their vibes as he dragged Sana to the front to be with them and I chuckled as I looked at Wonwoo.

“San and Wooyoung can be fun people, but they tire you out very quickly.” I told my boyfriend as we walked through a very dark zone, ghostly voices coming from the speakers. I was holding his hand tightly and I could feel his shoulder grazing mine lightly.

“Did you spend a lot of time with them?” He asked curiously.

“I did,” I chuckled, remembering all the fun I used to have with them and Seonghwa, “On Friday’s we’d go to the diner and after we’d go karting, it was a lot of fun. It was a tradition of ours which was started by Wooyoung.”

“Sounds nice,” Wonwoo muttered and then I felt him squeezing my hand when we heard footsteps running behind us, “Why don’t we have something similar?”

His question made me think. I didn’t exactly know, maybe because Wonwoo didn’t invite me to hang out with his friends quite often, so I wasn’t very close to them besides Soonyoung, “I don’t know, I figured you don’t like it when I hang out with you and your friends.”

“That’s not true,” Wonwoo scoffed as a marionette was hung in front of us, dangling limply and I flinched, “I don’t mind you hanging out with us.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I told him as we were partially blinded by green neon lights, “You never told me that though. And you never invited me out with you guys either…”

Wonwoo was silent as he glanced at me and stepped in front of me when a man dressed in Frankenstein ran towards us. I could hear Sana giggling in the next room and I pulled Wonwoo after me, entering the room just in time to see Wooyoung threateningly throwing punches at a skeleton and cussing at it. San was laughing loudly and Seonghwa was apologizing to the masked man as he clutched his shoulder. Sana and Vernon were watching it unfold with amusement, and I chuckled as Wonwoo and I approached them.

“What did he do this time?” I asked Seonghwa while pointing at Wooyoung, but it was San who answered me.

“The vampire jumped out of its coffin and Wooyoung punched it.” It made me laugh too as Seonghwa dragged his friend away from the skeleton before bowing at the vampire guy again. The guy just told us to go on and went back inside his coffin.

“Ah, Y/N, finally!” Wooyoung exclaimed once he saw me talking to San and ran up to me, throwing his arm around my shoulders as he pulled me with himself to the front. I glanced back at Wonwoo, but he just smiled and nodded, joining Vernon and Sana at the back of the group. Soonyoung and the other three people who came with us seemed to be much more ahead of us, so our little group stuck together.

“I hear you’ve been causing problems all night long, Wooyoung.” I narrowed my eyes at my friend and he chuckled, placing a hand on his chest.

“Non-sense, was it Seonghwa who told you that? You know he’s always lying and overreacting!” I chuckled as Seonghwa slapped the back of Wooyoung’s head and San glanced back at us with a grin before he opened the next door. The room was pitch black and I gulped, a bit nervous about entering it. I knew Wooyoung wouldn’t release me, he knew I hated the dark, but I still preferred being with Wonwoo right now.

“It’s good that our gang is back together.” It was San who was talking and I lightly ran into him as he stopped to wait for us. He seemed unbothered by the whole tour and was just laughing at everything and making fun of Wooyoung any chance he got.

“Yeah, I missed you.” Wooyoung said and squeezed my shoulder as I lightly held onto his hoodie, scared a bit. I knew Seonghwa was next to me, on my left, and San in front of me and the others behind, but I still felt uneasy.

“I missed you too, although you’re being a pain in the ass—”

“Am not!” Wooyoung exclaimed and soon screamed as a strong light was flashed in our faces and fake bats came flying towards us. I screamed too and ducked as I held onto my head, scared they’d get entangled into my braided hair. San was laughing as he caught one and started antagonizing Wooyoung with it, running after him as they ran into the next room. Seonghwa was quick to approach me and help me stand, but Wonwoo was by my side instantly, and the two looked at each other as each held my arm. I chuckled awkwardly and shook off their grips, standing up on my own.

“Sorry, I hate bats.” I muttered embarrassed as Vernon and Sana walked by us.

“I know.” Both boys said at the same time and I felt awkward as they looked at each other before Wonwoo cleared his throat and Seonghwa scratched his nape.

“Uhm, let’s go?” I proposed and they both nodded as we took off, Seonghwa going in front of us as I intertwined my fingers with Wonwoo, who was glaring at the back of my ex-boyfriend’s head.

“Stop it.” I whispered at Wonwoo and his jaw clenched, “Wonwoo, you know he means no harm.”

“I don’t like it when other guys touch you, Y/N.” Wonwoo snapped at me and I sighed, side eyeing him.

“Jesus, he just tried to help me up—”

“I was there already; he didn’t have to.” Wonwoo’s voice raised lightly and I stopped walking and faced him as I was sure Seonghwa could hear it all and I didn’t want to make him feel more uncomfortable.

“Can you stop acting like this? Have I given you any reason to be jealous, Wonwoo?” I called out my boyfriend and he rolled his eyes, releasing my hand.

“You have no trouble being so friendly with him.”

“Maybe because we remained friends?!” I exclaimed and Wonwoo just sighed, walking by me, “Seriously?”

“What? I’m curious what’s in the next room.” He muttered and I rolled my eyes as I followed after him. What a way to ruin the little fun I started having. I just sighed as I followed behind Wonwoo, not even interested anymore in the Haunted House and all of the different masked people jumping out in front of me, trying to scare me. Seonghwa was back at the front, San and Wooyoung pulling him in all kinds of directions as he didn’t turn around anymore, keeping his distance. I felt bad for him and reminded myself to apologize for Wonwoo’s behavior, reassuring him that he did nothing wrong and Wonwoo sometimes overreacted. There were flashing lights in the room we were in currently and ghosts hung from the ceiling as people were screaming through the speakers. I sighed and shielded my eyes, the lights hurting them as I hurried towards the last door. The others were outside already and I was left behind, I didn’t notice that everyone walked out while I was getting lost in my thoughts. Just as I was about to touch the doorknob, a dressed up person jumped in front of me, blocking my way. I gasped and jumped back, eyes widening when I came face to face with a Ghostface. The person wore a black gown and a real looking knife was in its hand. My heart started racing and I started backing away from the person, getting flashbacks from the night they had shown up at my house.

“What—what are you—” The Ghostface chuckled and slowly approached me.

“I’m a Ghostface.” The voice was still as glitchy, but lower than the one I had talked to on the phone, “Hello, beautiful.”

I shuddered at the words and gulped, “Who are you?”

The person behind the mask chuckled and twirled around, “An actor? Hired by the Haunted House?”

My heart was racing, but their words seemed to calm me down a little bit. Of course, we were at the Haunted House and this person was an actor hired to scare people. And they did a good job at scaring me.

“Right, sorry—” I chuckled, “You gave me a good scare.”

“That’s my job.” The Ghostface bowed and I smiled, “Did you enjoy the tour?”

“Are you this nice and talkative with everyone?” I raised my eyebrows as I held my hands behind my back. The Ghostface started circling me, making me turn my head to see them.

“Only with the beautiful ones.” They answered and I rolled my eyes, not into cheesy flirting.

“How cheesy.” I muttered and the Ghostface seemed to laugh as they came to a stop in front of me. It looked as they looked down before raising their head back up and I saw the knife glinting in the dim light as it lightly touched my chin and they raised my head with it. The air caught in my throat a little as I felt the sturdiness of the knife. It was either a very real looking and feeling prop or it was a real knife.

“And tell me…do you like bad guys?” The Ghostface asked smugly and I laughed nervously.

“Not really.”

“Isn’t your boyfriend a bad boy?” Well, that’s not how I’d describe Wonwoo if someone asked me. He looked like a bad boy, but he was actually a very nice and loving guy.

“Not really,” I chuckled and quietly let out a sigh when the person lowered the knife from my chin, “He’s well raised and really nice.”

“And do you love him?” Wasn’t this Ghostface a little too curious?

“Of course I do.” I said matter of factly and the Ghostface hummed just as the door opened. Light poured in from the outside and I squinted until the door was closed again. I instantly recognized the person once my eyes adjusted to the light again, it was Seonghwa.

“Y/N, are you alright?” He asked worriedly as he walked up to me, “I saw you weren’t with the group and nobody knew where you were.”

I smiled at him sweetly and nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just fell behind accidentally and Ghostface over there seemed to be quite interested.”

Seonghwa looked over to where the Ghostface stood and his eyebrows furrowed, “Oh? They didn’t show up when we walked through this room.”

I turned to look at the Ghostface as well and I gulped as dread washed over me, slowly realizing what was happening, “Seonghwa—” But before I could scream at him to run, the Ghostface charged at us and I yelped as they pushed me to the ground and pinned Seonghwa to the wall. I watched wide eyed as Seonghwa struggled against them and as I got to my feet, I saw the Ghostface raise their knife. My heart stopped for a second and I didn’t even realize I had screamed as the knife slashed Seonghwa’s abdomen. He cried out in pain and the Ghostface stepped back a bit as he angled their knife at Seonghwa’s stomach. I was shaking, but I couldn’t just sit on the ground and watch as they murder my ex-boyfriend.

“Y/N, run!” Seonghwa exclaimed as the Ghostface poked his stomach, but I was fast enough and got up in time and ran over, knocking the Ghostface aside. They gasped in surprise and I could feel their gaze burning into me through the mask. I turned to face Seonghwa and with shaky hands caught him as he slid down the wall.

“No, Seonghwa!” I exclaimed, hand getting bloody as I pressed it against his smaller wound, momentarily not knowing what to do.

“Get out!” Seonghwa whispered as he grimaced in pain, pulling out his phone. I turned around and came face to face with the Ghostface, gasping at the proximity. I didn’t know who was behind the mask, but I wasn’t about to go down without a fight. I punched their shoulder and took the knife out of their hand, throwing it on the ground as I started punching their abdomen. The Ghostface groaned and tried catching my hands, struggling to do so until they had me pinned against the wall. I tried fighting myself out of their hold, but they were stronger.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” The Ghostface said breathlessly and I glared at them, kneeling them, making them double over.

“You shouldn’t have hurt my friends!” I screamed and kneeled them in the stomach this time, sending the person onto the ground. I ran back to Seonghwa and saw him trying to call the cops, but there was no signal inside.

“Let’s go.” I whispered and tried to control my shaking as I attempted to help Seonghwa stand, but just as he warned me, I was tackled to the ground. I screamed again, and suddenly, a hand was muffling my screams. A bare hand. Long fingers, warm, soft palm. My heart was beating like crazy and I felt a tear run down my cheeks when I noticed the Ghostface holding the knife again. Was I about to die too? But they didn’t move, we were just staring at each other. The hold on my mouth seemed to loosen and I glanced down at it, heart jumping in my throat when I noticed two long, red scratches on the person’s hand. Why did they look like cat scratches? Why did their hand feel like Wonwoo’s? A groan to our right got both of our attention and I saw Seonghwa approaching us, almost stumbling, but as the Ghostface got off of me, Seonghwa swung his fist at the person’s jaw, sending them stumbling into the wall. I got up and grabbed Seonghwa, placing his arm around my shoulders as I held his hip and we made a run for the exit. He was groaning in pain but still remained strong as we could hear the Ghostface shuffling around and catching up with us, but just as I felt them gripping onto Seonghwa’s shoulder, I kicked the door open, light flooding the room. Everyone was standing there, waiting for us probably, and when they saw the blood coating Seonghwa’s torso and my hands, chaos erupted. Wooyoung ran up to us in despair and started shouting things, asking what happened as I yelled out for them to call an ambulance. Vernon rushed up to us and helped Wooyoung as they took Seonghwa’s weight off of me and carefully placed him on a nearby bench as San called for an ambulance. Sana was by my side instantly and I realized my whole body was shaking as I looked around for familiar faces. She was talking to me, but I was searching for one person. Jeonghan and Minghao looked shocked as they stood helplessly by the bench, watching Seonghwa struggling to stay awake. Wooyoung was freaking out and San was holding onto him tightly as they talked to Seonghwa, trying to divert his attention from the pain. Vernon was trying to stop the bleeding as his father is a doctor and he knows this and that. Soonyoung was off to the side, looking almost sick yet unimpressed as he talked on the phone with someone. And Sana was hugging me tightly, saying reassuring things to me which I was unable to hear due to my ears ringing. Wonwoo. Wonwoo wasn’t anywhere to be seen. I gulped and hugged Sana back, hearing the ambulance sirens in the distance. Wonwoo wasn’t here with us.

           My mother was reluctant to let me go to school the next day, understandably so. I barely got any sleep after last night’s incident. As Seonghwa was placed inside the ambulance and driven to a hospital, two detectives approached the rest of us and started their questioning. We were brought to the side separately and asked to retell our whole night. Of course, I was the one they questioned first as they knew I was inside with Seonghwa when the attack happened. I was shaken up and on the verge of crying, but surprisingly, Wooyoung and San stood by my side and tried to cheer me up until my mother got to us. After finishing my retelling of story, I walked to the side and sat down, curling into a ball as I felt arms holding me. It was Sana and she remained quiet as she tried to offer me some support. I appreciated her gesture, but I would’ve preferred being left alone at the moment. My mind was swirling with questions and I was frightened out of my mind. Wonwoo was nowhere to be seen and I couldn’t help but think he was the one behind the mask. Could it really be my boyfriend? The killer? I bit my lower lip at the thought and my head whipped up as I heard Wonwoo’s deep voice, laced with terror and panic as he was asking around for me. Just as we made eye contact, the two detectives stepped in front of him and brought him aside to question him as well. I could feel his gaze on me, but my mother had arrived and she was by my side in an instant, helping me up and she gave me tightest hug ever. I started crying when I felt her arms around me and she quietly shushed me, thanking Sana for sitting with me. She noticed San and Wooyoung too, nodding at them as a small greeting before she walked me towards her car. I didn’t talk to Wonwoo that night, but perhaps it was good, because I had no idea what I could’ve said to him.

Mom insisted on driving me to school this morning and I didn’t object; I wasn’t in the mood to ride the bus and act as if I didn’t feel my classmates burning gazes. I knew everyone would whisper about me again. I hated this all. I hated the killer. I hated that Yerim wasn’t here. And I hated the fact that I was helpless and couldn’t help a person who once was so dear to me. Thankfully, Seonghwa got to the hospital in time as he was losing blood fast and since he was stabilized quite quickly, he’d survive. I asked my mother to stop by his ward from time to time, to check up on him. She complied happily and told me she’d update me; I was really thankful. Before getting out of her car, I kissed my mother’s cheek, making her smile sadly at me. I had dark bags underneath my eyes and despite tying my hair up, it looked like a mess. I felt miserable, and I looked miserable. The baggy clothes weren’t helping much to offer me comfort, all I could do was sigh and pull the hood of my hoodie over my head and walk to my classroom. Everyone seemed to have eagle eyes, because as soon as I opened the entrance door, people noticed me. Some started instantly whispering, there were a few who were ignoring me or stepping out of my way as if I would hurt them, some would stop conversing and stare at me like I was some sort of freak. I hung my head low and walked up to my locker, opening it to place my backpack inside it. I sighed as I got my science book and two notebooks out, off to walk to my classroom. Sana texted me that she wasn’t feeling well and she wouldn’t attend school today, apologizing for leaving me alone. I didn’t text her back, but I appreciated her letting me know. Surprisingly it was San and Wooyoung who approached me as I was walking up the stairs.

“Couldn’t sleep?” I heard San asking me and I raised my head, eyes wide.

“Oh, I didn’t see you—” Wooyoung had a warm smile on his lips and I looked back down at the ground, “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Us neither.” Wooyoung muttered and San cleared his throat, “We visited Seonghwa before coming to school.”

“How is he?” I asked quickly, looking back up at the two boys.

“He’s in pain, but he’s doing good despite that huge cut—” San elbowed Wooyoung and I gulped, averting my eyes from them, “I mean, he’s fine, don’t worry. He asked us to tell you that he’s grateful you saved him and he hopes you’ll visit him when you feel ready.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded at the two boys wordlessly, “Thank you.”

“No problem, you know where to find us.” San smiled and bumped his shoulder with mine lightly as we got to my floor, they had to go up one more flight of stairs. I nodded at them and they waved as they took off. I sighed and took off too, headed towards my classroom, the hallway not as packed as downstairs. A few students glanced at me but seemed to ignore me mostly, it made me feel slightly better. Not too good, but at least they weren’t staring or whispering. As I looked up, I suddenly froze. Wonwoo. He was standing next to my classroom’s door, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets as he was biting his lip, looking anxious. I gulped and slowly approached him, wary still. His head turned and when he noticed me he pushed off the wall and approached me, instantly pulling me into a hug. I felt tears in my eyes as I buried my head in his chest and Wonwoo rubbed my back up and down. I grabbed his jacket and tried to keep silent as I started crying, scared and confused. How could I think it was Wonwoo? My loving boyfriend. I was so scared something happened to him. But why was he not outside when everybody else was?

“I’m so glad—” Wonwoo’s voice was low and raspy, as if he had been screaming all night long, “I’m so glad you’re alright. I was so scared—I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you from that criminal, I—”

“Where were you?” I found myself whispering, desperately needing an answer to this one question only.

Wonwoo remained silent before he sighed, “I caught up with Soonyoung and then I went to the bathroom, when I got back everything had already happened—”

“Okay,” I whispered and sniffed, pulling my head back to look at him, “Don’t blame yourself. I’m fine and Seonghwa will recover.”

Wonwoo’s jaw clenched and as I was looking up at him, my eyes fell on his jawline. There was a small bruise forming, slightly greenish already. My eyebrows furrowed and I felt my heart starting to beat fast. Seonghwa—he punched the Ghostface in the jaw, same exact location, before we ran out. I gulped, hands slightly shaking, as I took Wonwoo’s right hand and interlaced our fingers, bringing it up to my eye level. Wonwoo watched me wordlessly, eyebrows slightly furrowed. I maintained eye contact as I brought his hand to my lips, pressing a kiss against it. And just before lowering it, I glanced down, and my blood ran cold. There. On his hand. Red scratches which Byeol left on him when they were playing. His hand, bare. Long fingers, warm, soft palm. I shivered and stepped back, releasing his hand as I tried to act nonchalant. Wonwoo watched me confused as I stumbled over my words.

“I—I have to go—” I opened the classroom door, avoiding eye contact, “I’m late.”

“Y/N—” But I stepped inside the classroom and slammed the door shut, biting my lower lip, whole body shaking as I approached my desk and sat down. It was Wonwoo last night. Right? Was it really him? What do I do?

           My mother tried to switch her shifts with a nurse she was friends with, but she couldn’t make it. She didn’t want to take the night shift tonight, worried to leave me home alone, but I reassured her I would be fine. In fact, I felt like shit and didn’t want to be alone, but remained silent and decided to have a Harry Potter marathon, that way I wouldn’t fall asleep and could wait for my mother to return home in the morning. It was a Friday, so it would work out. I desperately needed a good sleep, but I could deal with that later. I cooked some dinner for myself and played with Byeol, but after she got bored and went to sleep in my room, I decided to take a shower and start the movie marathon. I definitely lost track of time while showering, because my phone kept ringing, but I didn’t feel like answering. My mother would never call me while working, so I knew it was Wonwoo. But I didn’t want to talk to him. My mind was a mess and I didn’t know what to believe anymore. He couldn’t be the killer, but some signs were pointing at him and it was eating me up alive. I was scared and confused. My gut told me to sleep on it and ask him tomorrow, but for some reason staying away from him felt most comforting. Getting out of the shower I got dressed in sweatpants and Yerim’s favorite pink hoodie, eyeing Wonwoo’s sweater resting on my chair. He left it here when he slept over and told me to keep it until he’d sleep over again. Brushing my fingers against it as I towel dried my hair with one hand, I shivered. Its scent once brought comfort, but now I felt uncomfortable. Byeol was sitting on my bed and for once it wasn’t storming outside, I was thankful. Just as I placed my towel on my desk, my phone rang again. I sighed and walked up to it as it was charging on my nightstand, and despite expecting it to be Wonwoo calling, it was an unknown number. My eyebrows furrowed and my heart started racing as I remembered the time when I spoke with the Ghostface on Yerim’s phone. I took my phone and walked to the window, looking through the curtain.

“Hello?” I asked as I picked up the call, chewing on my lip. There was some heavy breathing on the other side, freaking me out.

“Hi.” I froze for a second as the Ghostface’s robotic voice came through the phone. What did they want? Were they here to kill me? The thought sent panic through my body and I quickly made sure my window was locked before pulling down the blinds as well.

“What do you want?” I demanded, voice shaking but still harsh.

The Ghostface chuckled, “You gone.”

I shuddered as tears suddenly sprung into my eyes, “You killed Yerim, didn’t you?”

“I did.” Was their answer and I sniffed, wiping away a tear as I raced down the stairs, to make sure all doors were locked.

“Why?”

“Multiple reasons,” The Ghostface sighed as I checked the front door, “One, she was always rude to me. Two, she never gave me a chance and the list just goes on, Y/N.”

“So you killed her.” I said accusingly, checking the door in the living room as well. It wasn’t locked, but I locked it now and pulled the curtains closed as well.

“Well she pissed me off to my last nerve, didn’t have much off a choice—”

“You don’t kill someone because they piss you off!” I screamed into the phone, shaking and fuming. How could they?! Kill someone because they pissed them off?! This is not how life works.

“I do.” The Ghostface laughed and I felt like screaming.

“What do you want?” I repeated, body shaking from anger and fear too.

“To kill you, honestly, I’ve had enough of you too.” I gulped and turned by back to the door, walking back outside in the hallway.

“I won’t go down easy.” I muttered and the Ghostface just laughed.

“A fragile girl can’t do much damage to me, sweetheart.” They said and I chuckled sarcastically.

“You’ll have to wait for another night then, you can’t come in if the doors and windows are all locked.”

“They are locked, now.” I froze, heart thumping fast, “But they weren’t until you locked the one in the living room just minutes ago.”

The voice now didn’t come through the phone only, they were here. Inside. Close. Too close. Shakingly, I slowly turned towards the kitchen entrance, and screamed. The same person from the Haunted House was standing in the doorway of my kitchen. Black gown and a Ghostface mask, glows, and a sharp knife in their hand. The Ghostface laughed, dropping the phone as it took off towards me and I panicked, showing the phone in the hoodie’s pocket as I started running, headed for the laundry room. I quickly entered and locked the door, whimpering when the person started pounding on it. Why did they want to kill me? What did I do? Who was behind the mask? As I reached for my phone to call the police, the pounding stopped, the sudden silence making me jump. Did they leave already?

“If you don’t come out, I’ll start with Byeol.” I whimpered and covered my lips, tears streaming down my cheeks at the thought of the person killing my cat. How did they know her name? I couldn’t let them kill her, she was my everything, “I’m headed to find her—”

“Stop!” I screamed and gripped the doorknob, “I’ll come out, just don’t hurt her.”

The Ghostface laughed and I heard them grumbling, “Stupid people with love for their stupid animals.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, readying myself to face the criminal on the other side of the door. If I had to die tonight, then I would. But I wouldn’t go down without a fight. I was feeling extremely hot in the hoodie, but it was Yerim’s, and all of a sudden, a wave of bravery washed over me as if Yerim was telling me that I could do it, that I could survive. If she believed in me, then I could believe in myself too. Wiping my stray tears away, I unlocked the door. The click of it seemed to be so loud in the silence, and with shaking hands, I pushed open the door. It opened very slowly and I held onto the doorknob tightly. There it was. The Ghostface, leaning against the wall. I couldn’t see their face, but I could swear they were smirking. I was glaring at them, breathing hard as I released the doorknob.

“There you are.” They said in a sing song voice, suddenly raising their knife. It was my cue to run off. And so I did just that, I took off, and ran towards the kitchen. The only problem was that it had no doors and two entrances. My goal was to get the Ghostface to follow me outside, far away from my cat and close enough to other people to see and call the cops for me. Their loud thumping made it obvious enough that they were following me and I stopped in front of the sink, the counter putting distance between us. Nobody said anything, we just stared each other down. My muscles were tense and I felt the adrenaline kicking in, making my shaking even worse. Before the Ghostface could react, I took off again, running for the door. I barely got in the doorway, when a hand gripped my hair and I was hauled back. I cried out in pain and quickly groaned as I was thrown on the floor.

“Yerim screamed a lot more than you, you know?” The Ghostface taunted and I sneered at them as I got up, getting backed into the wall. What could I do? Take their knife would be an option. The Ghostface raised the knife and lightly grazed it against my neck, making me gasp. I was breathing through my mouth, barely able to think of my next move. They raised their other hand and gripped my neck, pulling our faces close to each other.

“But you both seem to be just as dumb—” And just like that I headbutted them. I didn’t wait for them to finish the sentence or plunge the knife in my stomach. The person stumbled backwards and dropped their knife in shock. What a dumb move. I reacted faster and picked it up in a flash, pointing it at them.

“How does it feel to have your own weapon pointed at you?” I hissed and the Ghostface groaned, starting to stomp their feet. Were they seriously throwing a tantrum right now? I watched confused, but stayed alert.

“You’re not ruining my fun tonight, Y/N!” They screamed and charged at me. The smart thing to do would’ve been running away and out of the house, but I froze. If I had the knife, could they still kill me? Of course, there were many ways to do that, but my brain went blank. And just last second, I dropped the knife, scared to stab anyone. I wasn’t a killer; I couldn’t do it. The Ghostface grabbed my neck and started squeezing it, but I was fighting back. I wasn’t about to die. I tried pushing him backwards, and it was working. The Ghostface was muttering things I couldn’t understand, but I stumbled and stepped on their long gown. The person tripped over my leg and before I knew it, their hands were gone from my neck and they were falling backwards. I gasped and watched as the person hit their head on the edge of the counter and fell to the floor limply. I stood shocked, not knowing what to do. They weren’t moving anymore, I carefully pushed their leg with my foot, but they didn’t react. I approached them, heart racing and forehead sweaty as I leaned down and touched the mask. I had to know. I had to know who killed my best friend, Mina, Seungkwan and tried to kill Seonghwa and now me. So, without thinking for another second, I ripped the mask off. I felt my body going numb at the sight, ears ringing as I stared down at the blond laying unconsciously on my kitchen floor. My lips started trembling and my body started shaking more violently as I clutched the mask tightly, hand hurting from the force. Kwon Soonyoung lay unconscious in front of me. Blood was slowly seeping from underneath his head. How could it be him? I started crying loudly and threw the Ghostface mask on the floor, stomping on it and screaming. How could he kill Yerim?! How could he! In all the ruckus and screaming, Byeol woke up and her loud meows were the ones which brought me back to reality. She was staying away, gazing at me with her big eyes, meowing loudly. I was sobbing and started walking towards her, when the doorbell rang. Once. Twice. Thrice. Knocking. Panicked screaming. Asking to be let inside. The voice of my boyfriend. Jeon Wonwoo. My boyfriend. Acting without much thinking, I ran up to the door and unlocked it, throwing it open. Wonwoo was panting and he gasped when he saw me. I flung myself into his body, hugging him tightly and crying loudly. He hesitated for a second before wrapping his arms around me and slowly walking me inside the house, closing the door behind us. I was crying, I couldn’t do anything else. Soonyoung killed my best friend because she didn’t like him back. Because she didn’t want to date him. Who kills for a reason like that! I couldn’t hear Byeol meowing anymore, Wonwoo was caressing my head and kissing it softly, muttering words to calm me down. I found my breath again and pulled away, finding comfort in his arms. He was here. He was here to witness it all. He was here to take Byeol and I away from this nightmare.

“He—he did—it.” I stuttered out, body shaking, “Soonyoung. He killed—everyone.”

Wonwoo’s face went blank as he looked towards the kitchen entrance, but the only thing he could see from here was the destroyed Ghostface mask on the floor. His grip seemed to loosen around me as he looked back at me.

“Soonyoung killed Yerim, Wonwoo.” I whispered as I wiped my tears away, “He killed Mina and—”

“He didn’t kill Mina.” Wonwoo’s voice was void of any emotion. I shivered, “He didn’t try to kill Seonghwa either.”

I shook my head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What—what are you saying? He’s the criminal, he—” I winced when Wonwoo’s grip suddenly turned painful on my arms, and I stepped back. His bruise on his jaw was now a dark blue, it looked like it hurt a lot. The cat scratches on his hand were still red.

“You—” I gasped and slapped his hands away, taking a step back, “You killed—Mina and Seonghwa—”

“I failed to kill that bastard, but it’s not too late yet.” I started shaking my head, feeling like my whole world was ending.

“What are you saying, Wonwoo—” Suddenly he was all up in my face, holding my chin roughly as he made me look him in the eyes. His expression scared me. His eyes were almost black and manic as he stared into mine. His lips were curled into an amused sneer and all warmth had disappeared from his aura. This wasn’t Wonwoo. This wasn’t my boyfriend. This was someone else. Someone I didn’t know and was scared off.

“I killed Mina. I tried to kill Seonghwa and now—” His pause made me gulp, his voice was quiet when he continued, “I have to kill you too.”

I whimpered and started shaking my head, gripping his wrist, “No, Wonwoo—Listen to me, you’re not like this, I can—”

“How would you know what I am like when I never allowed you to see the real me?” His words felt like someone dropped a cold ice bucket on me, numbness washed over my whole body. Was it all fake? All this time? Everything between us?

“Did you ever love me?” I found myself whispering, it was the least important thing to know right now, but I had to know.

“I love you more than I have ever loved anyone.” I sniffled, heart breaking and head spinning. Before I could react in any way, Wonwoo’s lips crashed against mine. I was disgusted, I didn’t want to be kissing him. But I couldn’t help myself. I still loved him despite his terrible confession. Despite him saying he wanted to kill me, I still loved him. So I kissed him back with the same fire he was kissing me, our lips crashing against each other’s messily, painfully. Maybe it was our last goodbye, maybe it wasn’t. I didn’t know what this kiss meant, until I felt Wonwoo’s hands around my neck and my eyes flew open. He was squeezing me, not allowing an ounce of air into my lungs. I tried pulling my head back, but he wasn’t letting me. He was still kissing me, but I couldn’t do the same. I clawed at his arms, gripping his wrists and yanking on them but he wasn’t budging. I started seeing black and I felt like throwing up, finally, Wonwoo’s lips left mine and I tried gasping for air but it wasn’t working. I tried talking, but it wasn’t working. I was going to die. In Yerim’s favorite hoodie, by the hands of my once lover. My grip fell from Wonwoo’s wrists and I felt my legs giving out, body limp. I didn’t want to die, I really didn’t. Not like this. I had no power, yet something so strong, as if someone knocked the last gust of wind out of my lungs, gave me the power to raise my knee and kneel Wonwoo in the groins. It might’ve been weak, but Wonwoo yelped loudly and released me, my body falling to the ground. I started coughing and gasping, holding my burning neck as my head hung low. My lungs were on fire and my eyes filled with tears as I filled my lungs desperately with air. Wonwoo was doubled over, groaning and hissing in pain. Perhaps I could escape him. Walk around him and out the door. So I tried, I got up from the ground, legs almost buckling, but I tried. I started walking, catching Wonwoo’s attention as his head whipped up and he reached for me, but I stepped back. He was starting to straighten up, still groaning, realizing I was getting better. I barely had any power, but I was starting to breathe again. He lunged for me and I realized walking in the kitchen was my best escape right now. So, I entered and my eyes fell on an unconscious Soonyoung, making me shudder again. I tried to run, but my legs felt heavy. I went to walk around the counter and grab a knife, but Wonwoo grabbed my shoulder and turned me around. The knife Soonyoung was holding was in his hands now. I shook my head at him and begged him to let me go. We couldn’t figure this out, but he had to let me go. If he loved me, he would’ve done that. But he didn’t want to. The knife was angled at my stomach and I took a deep breath, turning my hand into a fist. I had no power left in me anymore, this was my last shot at life. So, as Wonwoo raised the knife to stab me, I punched his jaw, just where Seonghwa had punched him yesterday, and grabbed the knife with my other hand out of his. He groaned loudly and looked at me with an animalistic look in his eyes. The knife was pointed at him and one move sealed the deal. I guess he didn’t notice I pointed the knife at him as he ran straight into it. We gasped at the same time and stared at each other wide eyed. I didn’t want to do this, but he gave me no other choice. I released the knife and watched as Wonwoo fell to his knees, starting to cry. He was begging me for forgiveness and asking me to love him, but I couldn’t hear him. My ears were ringing.

“Byeol! Byeol!” I was screaming at the top of my lungs, throat scratchy from getting chocked. I heard a faint meow coming from the living room and ran inside, looking for my cat, “Byeol, please come here!”

And she showed up, she crawled out from underneath the sofa and ran up to me, coming into my arms as I picked her up. I shushed her and ran towards the front door, not sparing another glance inside the kitchen as I grabbed my phone from Yerim’s hoodie’s pocket. I stumbled off the stairs on the porch as I started getting light headed, but I managed to dial the police.

“112, what’s your emergency?”

Masterlist

[onskepa]

HELLO!! Happy Holidays pookie🎄❤️hope you are having a great day/night!

I was wondering if you are writing for Etuwa from AFOP. No one talks about her BUT SHE IS SO FINE‼️She’s too underrated.

Can you write a fic with Etuwa x fem!na’vi!reader in which they both fall in love with eachother since they first met and everyone notices the chemistry between them.

In the end, Etuwa confesses and they kiss and become cute gfs <3

THANK YOU SO MUCH 🫶🏻 and have a good day!

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSS!! MY FIRST ETUWA REQUEST!! THANK YOU SO MUCH DARLING!!! Hope you and everyone like this one! Enjoy~!!

------------

Tiflrr

It was a known fact the Etuwa was a warrior at heart. Being a tsahik is an honorable position to have, to lead her people and be the speak of Eywa. After the tragic death of her mother, Etuwa took on her position, learned everything there to be a Tsahik, and lead alongside with her father, the olo’eyktan of the Aranahe clan. But if Etuwa was to be given a choice, she wouldnt be the Tsahik. 

She would rather be a warrior. 

And everyone can secretly agree. If anything, it would suit Etuwa more if she were to be the olo’eykte of their clan. But if she was to be the olo’eykte, then who would be her tsahik? A clan cannot be lead without two people. It takes the balance of two leaders to take care of their people. And while many may not have a clue, Etuwa does. 

Eutwa knows exactly who can fit the role of not just the tsahik, but the role of a perfect mate, partner, her secret love, Tiflrr.

Like an Atokirina, Tiflrr gracefully appeared to Etuwa on the darkest day of her life. After the sudden death of her mother, Etuwa lost sight of her path, she was silent, introverted, and just as depressed as her father. Not even the bright and dramatic Nefika was able to lift her spirits. Etuwa was drained of her color, her ambitions, her light. But like all bad storms, a sun is sure to brighten after the chaos. 

And the sun was Tiflrr. 

Tiflrr is an amazing aranahe na’vi. Artistic, compassionate, and a visionary. You could say she is the softer, more quiet version of nefika. 

Tiflrr was everything Etuwa searched for. Her light, her laugh, everything. Etuwa was rough and ambitious while Tiflrr was more soft and passionate. It made Eutwa happy how well they balance each other. Though Etuwa wishes they could perhaps be more than mere friends. 

“Tiflrr!!” Etuwa calls out for the na’vi in question. Getting off from her ikran, tiflrr goes over to etuwa as they hug in a tight embrace. “Did you go to collect more seeds? Why didn't you tell me? I would have joined you” Etuwa whines a bit. Frowning that she missed potential time to spend with her favorite person. 

Tiflrr couldn't help but release a cute giggle, “and have you miss your tsahik duties? I could never”. Etuwa blushed a bit, basking in the beautiful smile tiflrr holds. Placing her hand on tiflrr’s cheek, Etuwa looks into her eyes, pure joy and love is all she feels for the lovely na’vi. “If I could, I would gladly give up being tsahik if it meant spending more time with you”. 

This earned etuwa a slap on the head. “Don't talk such nonsense you skxawng! Being a tsahik is both an honor and a major duty. Giving it up would mean giving up what your mother worked hard for. Don't throw all that away '' tiflrr scolded etuwa like she was a child. But she was right, she can't say such silly things like that. Etuwa’s mind says one thing, but her heart says another. 

Etuwa’s feelings for tiflrr grows stronger everyday. And she isn't sure how much longer she can keep it in. 

“Come on, you silly head!” tiflrr calls out to etuwa. Grabbing her hand, Tiflrr leads Etuwa to a large field of flowers. So many blooming beautifully and perfect to weave something nice. Wild ikrans flying freely up in the sky and the kinglors having their feed. It looked so peaceful. So perfect. 

“Look, it seems new ones have hatched not too long ago. '' Tiflrr points out to some young flying kinglor. One took interest and landed on her hand, admiring its cuteness, tiflrr gently pets it. “So cute…” tiflrr mutters. 

“Yes…very cute” Etuwa agrees, but it wasn't just the kinglor moth that she found cute. 

Moments like this Etuwa wishes they can last forever and ever. No worries, no responsibility, just existing and having an adventure with Tiflrr. With tiflrr, Etuwa can feel anything is possible and can do so much more.

It was clear as day for everyone to see how close Etuwa is to tiflrr. But more so now in recent days. Purposely avoiding her father and other responsibilities to be with tiflrr. While it is cute to chase around the person that makes you happy, it is also a  bit annoying. So annoying that Nefika of all people had to talk to Etuwa about it. 

“Child, while I would love to advocate your goal, it seems you leave behind a long trail of uncompleted tasks. This is unlike you Etuwa, come tell me, what is on your mind?” Nefika asks Etuwa one day. After Etuwa blatantly left her father talking away to an open space in favor of meeting with tiflrr, Ka’nat secretly asked nefika to talk to Etuwa, try to understand why the sudden absence. 

Sitting near a river, where the sounds of the water calms her nerves, Etuwa starts to talk. “Tiflrr. Lately, when I spend time with her, my heart beats mightier than ever. It races and twists, my mind becomes haze and all I can think about with tiflrr and just being with her. It is like….like everything is fine. With tiflrr, I am not tsahik, I am not a warrior, not a leader, I am just Etuwa to her. And I like that. I like tiflrr and how she sees me”. 

Nefika couldn't help but stare at astonishment towards Etuwa. 

“Etuwa child, Tiflrr, what exactly does she do to have you think this way?” she asks. Etuwa smiles as she explains. 

“Tiflrr treats me like a normal person. Yes she would berate me and constantly remind me of my position but never pushes it. Always eager to take me somewhere, showing me a new spot. Tiflrr is very observative, kind, gentle, sweet. She is all that and more. Oh how could I forget her knowledge in plants? She is very skilled in in vast creations like tea, medicine, paint, making sweets out of them. I enjoy that about her…and more”. 

The genuine love and care that holds in Etuwa’s voice helped Nefika make a certain conclusion. 

“Etuwa, is it possible that you are…” 

Tiflrr was in her home with massive ideas of what to make from the freshly picked flowers she found on the edge of the kinglor forest. They smelled lovely and seemed of fine quality to make baskets or for food. Either way can go. 

Maybe perhaps make something for Etuwa. 

Just thinking about her makes Tiflrr feel so happy and bubbly on the inside. Everytime they are together, the girl does her absolute best to compose herself whenever Etuwa is near. But she can't help it! Etuwa is so fierce and strong, and her beauty! A wonderful woman the tsahik is. While Tiflrr is always happy that Etuwa is choosing to spend time with her over the duties that occupy her attention, Tiflrr can't help but feel guilty yet selfish to be with Etuwa. Is that so wrong? 

Hard to see. However, speak of the na’vi. There was a knock at the entrance of her home, Tiflrr goes and sees Etuwa there! 

“My friend, come! What brings you here?” Tiflrr asks happily. Already preparing Etuwa’s favorite tea. Etuwa happily accepts a cup full, not caring how hot it is, the tsahik drinks it down in one go. 

“Oh my” this caught tiflrr by surprise. 

“We need to talk…and it is very important…” 

This is her one chance. After heavy and considerable talk with Nefika, even with her father, Etuwa had a goal, a mission. 

To confess to tiflrr. 

And it was easier said than done. It took so much mental tole that Etuwa wasn't sure if she was confident enough to do it. But things are not done, or changed, tiflrr would still have be as friends. Yet the tsahik wants to be more than that. 

“What is it Etuwa? Don't leave me so nervous” Tiflrr giggles, her sweet smile melting Etuwa’s heart. So, taking a deep breath, she tightly holds Tiflrr’s hands into hers. Such soft hands, no marks of anything. No cuts, bruises, nothing. Perfect hands. 

“Tiflrr, for a long time, you have been by my side. Through my ups and downs, my best and my worst. You have always been there for me. You have been there in ways no one could. Not even my father or others. You are the rays of sunshine to my dark skies. Shooing away anything that could cause me trouble. Your presence alone soothes me. Just by being near you is enough to make my day. Tiflrr, I love you. I have loved you for so long yet I did not say anything until now. I was, still am, afraid of your rejection…” 

Taking another deep breath, Etuwa’s heart still pounding hard as the drums, she continues. 

“I See you Tiflrr. For all that you are, for all that you will be and is. And I love every single bit of you. I love how you accept me. Despite my position, despite how I can be. You accept me into your life, your heart. But you only ever see me as a friend. I desire to be more than that….my question is…Tiflrr, will you let me be your lover?” 

As if the weight was lifted off of her shoulders, only to be replaced by newer weight. Etuwa confessed, spoke every word with full meaning and sincerity. The real challenge is, will Tiflrr accept? 

No words could ever describe with Tiflrr was feeling at the moment. It was as if time had stopped. All she could do was stare at Etuwa’s lovely face. Seeking to see if what Etuwa just said and done was a lie, a joke. But all Tiflrr saw was the honest truth. Has Eywa finally answered her wishes? 

Since words couldn't do justice to what Tiflrr feels, she does the next best thing. 

Grabbing Etuwa by the face, she pulls her in for a full, deep, passionate kiss. A kiss that answers her question, a kiss to reciprocate her feelings. A kiss to mark Etuwa as her’s until their last dying breath.

Aaaaaaaaaaaand that is it for this one! Hope you all like it! Until next time! See ya!

------------

Tiflrr - Gentleness, Tenderness

[exonerin]

Not Made To Last [Obikin | AO3]

Chapter 5 of Not Made to Last is posted!

In the notes, I already said I would discuss the upload schedule for this work. Chapter 6 is still under construction. I'm over 5k words in, which means I'm almost finished with the rough draft.

But editing takes a lot of time, because this is a one-man-operation. So, I think we're thinking two/three days before I can give you a polished version of chapter 6.

For the final chapter count, I believe we'll have 8 or 9 chapters. Especially since the chapter length has been growing quite sneakily these last few chapters.

As a treat, here's a snippet of chapter 6:

Anakin wanted what the doctor had prescribed, which was a novelty. However, he couldn't enjoy this novelty when his mind spun in disorienting circles, chasing its tail.

He wanted this.

He had always considered Obi-Wan a… maybe a parent or at least someone he could rely on unconditionally. Obi-Wan was pack, which had always been family to Anakin, someone he couldn't live without but quietly resented needing, too.

But he wanted this.

And wanting was very different from needing, Anakin discovered.

Anakin didn't think pups getting marked by their parents struggled to breathe past their nerves, unable to keep up the small talk as they headed back to the inn, walking past colorful stands and crowds of aliens, undeterred by the light drizzle. Many had donned bright raincoats, drops of vivid colors against the murky, musty, and drab background the outpost offered.

Despite the cacophony of voices and language, a thick silence had settled between them -- an unobtrusive, albeit impossible-to-ignore third presence trailing them. Nervously, Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan, focusing on Obi-Wan's lips, which would brush over his scent gland. A strange hunger coiled in his stomach, an anticipation no person should feel for a parental figure.

So, why did Anakin want this? What did he feel for Obi-Wan?

His conflict with the Council and losing Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had put several things into a new perspective. What stifled him before had turned into a lifeline, an honor to receive, something that wasn't given freely anymore. And Anakin hungered, starved, died.

He closed his eyes briefly, almost running into an alien, but Obi-Wan steered him out of the way with a brief touch to the small of his back. And that brush tingled, his body interpreting it as a precursor for more intimate and lingering touches. Yet, it also sparked warmth and contentedness, reminding Anakin he wasn't alone.

And Anakin understood, in a rare moment of introspection, that this was love; fuzzy, gentle, tiny, intangible, indefinable, but oh-so-warm, fond, and affectionate. Unlike most other emotions, which perpetually threatened to rule him when they swept over him in crushing waves, this love was steady and constant.

Easily mistaken and maybe not at all different from platonic love, yet Anakin wanted to be… the only one Obi-Wan loved like that. Either way, he wanted Obi-Wan's lips wrapped around his scent gland, staking a claim. He wanted to marry Obi-Wan so no one else could. And he wanted to be wrapped in Obi-Wan cloak -- his arms. How great it would be to be showered in love and praise.

Anakin's heart clenched in his chest, buoyed by futile hope.

Unbidden, his thoughts dipped into foreign territory, and Anakin wished Obi-Wan's knot would catch behind his rim, locking them together. He needed to make Obi-Wan come undone, milking Obi-Wan's knot as Anakin came untouched.

Nervously, he wet his lips. Stars, he loved it when Obi-Wan looked at him imploringly. His pale blue eyes appeared grey under the overcast sky, searching his expression patiently. He held Obi-Wan's attention, was the sole focus of it, and Anakin thrived under…

Wait.

[girlgroupshots]

Day 5 - SNSD Taeyeon

pairing: tiffany x taeyeon (taeny) content warning: somnophilia word count: 900 rating: M for mature summary: tiffany comes home for the holidays. taeyeon comes.  consider buying me a coffee if you enjoy!    

“I wish you could be here this year.”

A small pout crossed Taeyeon’s features as she stared at her phone screen. The picture coming through the facetime call was a familiar one, intimately familiar in fact. Tiffany Young laughed playfully at the expression she was given, giving an apologetic look in return.

“Aw, baby! I wish I could be there too,” Tiffany replied. “Next year. Or you could join me…”

This was the difficult part of having a long distance relationship where both parties were active in different parts of their life. The two months Taeyeon had gotten to enjoy Tiffany’s company all to herself were heavenly and yet it seemed their time ended right before the holidays and Tiffany had to return to the States.

“Maybe if you give me some incentive I’d consider it.”

“Yah! Do you need incentive to stay with me?” Tiffany laughed in disbelief. “Unbelievable!”

“Eleven hours is a long flight!” Taeyeon protested jokingly.

“Who are you telling!”

Both girls fell into laughter at their antics, which, in the end, only made them wish that they were in each other’s physical presence even more. A brief silence fell over the call and Taeyeon’s expression became melancholic once more. Noticing her girlfriend’s face, Tiffany attempted to cheer her up.

“Maybe for New Years I’ll be able to fly over. If things aren’t too crazy.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Taeyeon muttered.

“Well, yeah, obviously,” Tiffany teased, her voice soft. “Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?”

The rest of the call continued on a lighter note, the two women exchanging recent stories and laughing over memories from Christmas past. When it was time for Taeyeon to go to bed she did so reluctantly, with dreams of Santa bringing her the one person she wanted for Christmas…

It was well into the night when Tiffany turned the lock on Taeyeon's door. Quietly she peered in, hoping her girlfriend's dogs wouldn't give her away. It hadn't been easy pretending like she was in Los Angeles when really she was in Seoul during the facetime but as far as she knew, her deception had gone off without a hitch.

It seemed not a creature was stirring as she entered the home. Tiffany quietly placed down her bag and tiptoed through the halls towards the bedroom she was all too familiar with. Getting there in nothing more than a trench coat and red lingerie had been a freezing experience that she wasn't keen on repeating but it was worth it for this moment alone.

She peered into the bedroom, spotting a sleeping Taeyeon in the moonlight. Briefly taking a moment to appreciate the sight of her sleeping beauty before stripping down and making her way into the bed.

"Sleeping topless?" she muttered, her cold hands moving to Taeyeon's petite breast beneath the sheets. "Just what were you hoping Santa would do?"

Taeyeon shivered, her nipples turning hard, but didn't stir from her slumber, her body instinctively snuggling closer to Tiffany's. A slight smirk crossed her lover's expression as she began to fondle her breast more freely.

"Was this what you were hoping to get for Christmas?" she whispered in her ear.

Her girlfriend might not be the most well-endowed member of their group but that didn't mean Tiffany wouldn't take the opportunity to warm up when handed it. She massaged the other woman's breast, sucking on her neck as she did so. Slowly her fingers made their way down over her bare abdomen and past her navel. Her hands had warmed up fondling her breasts causing Taeyeon's body to relax and subconsciously arch into them with need.

"So wet for me already," Tiffany teased, her fingers dancing past her lover's sleep shorts and to her slick folds. "Just what are you dreaming about, huh?"

Her fingers dipped deeper into her sex and Taeyeon's thighs instinctively clutched around them. Still, she pushed deeper. One knuckle, then another. It was like clockwork that she could expect the singer's tightness to be waiting for her whenever she came home. Because that's what Taeyeon was to her. More than any one city or country she was home.

Taeyeon's thighs began to part, inviting a second digit to her sex. Quiet moans had started mixing in with her erratic breath as Tiffany began to properly pump her fingers in and out of her. She was keen to use her long fingers to pay attention to her most sensitive parts as well; teasing her clit along the way. What surprised her most was how Taeyeon remained asleep through it all. What Tiffany wouldn't have given to know what she was dreaming about in that moment.

She remained asleep up until her body shuttered and clenched around her lover's fingers; a silent orgasm washing over her. Unable to resist the temptation, she raised her slick fingers to her lips, licking them clean.

"Nngh...Fany?"

Taeyeon had finally begun to stir, looking at Tiffany with a drowsy but aroused look. "You know I was having the strangest dream."

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Tiffany laughed softly, stroking her hair.

"Remember that old toy you lost during our vacation ?"

"I wonder why that came to mind..." Tiffany said coyly. Though the look from Taeyeon told her the gig was up. Cupping her cheek she leaned down to press a kiss to her lips, "Merry Christmas, baby."

[ppushable]

of course we'll be okay

jean kirschtein x fem reader / longfic / chapter wc: 10 167

1 - resigned delusion

masterlist

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

I can't remember my name. Civilization is wiped and the future is bleak. The zombies are here.

But it's not all that bad. It's a little selfish to think like this, I know, but I can't seem to have it any other way.

My name isn't a big deal. As for the memories, well, I've made better ones, with people I really care about, and who I really hope care about me, too. And how can you expect me to care about a society I don't even remember, or a future I've never imagined? Okay, now that was selfish.

---

No matter how terrible things may seem, I always end up reminiscing. Nostalgic for the days when I lived so freely, when my only care was if I would come home alive. When I was swarmed by people who really, really cared about me.

When the two of us were stuck to each other, inseparable, through hell and back.

If I could make one wish, it wouldn't be to change the past, but to have never experienced it at all.

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

ao3 tags:

Zombie Apocalypse / Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse / Slow Burn / Slow To Update / mc is awkward as hell / at first / no y/n / POV First Person / im sorry if this is a mess / somewhat canon compliant / Sad Ending / if we ever get there / Reader-Insert / Angst / no beta author is friendless and hesitant / Fluff / Coming of Age / Blood and Gore / Zombies / Modern Era / Nonbinary Hange Zoë / Amnesia / Amnesiac Reader / Character Development / Cross-Posted on Wattpad / Enemies to Lovers / Enemies to Friends to Lovers / Jean Kirstein Being An Asshole / morally grey zeke yeager / Other Additional Tags to Be Added / side marco bott/reader / only in the beginning rlly / Forced Pregnancy

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

i've been thinking about writing this for a really, really long time. so i began. and then i started thinking about posting it. there's not much more to say without full-on rambling, but i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoy writing it. at least, i hope i didn't waste your fanfiction time. there are so many amazing stories out there that i took inspiration from. (the last of us is not one of them)

some things to note;

there will be violence/gore/injuries

and angst

and fluff

and dumbass shenanigans

the story might be long and convoluted because i'm not too sure what i'm doing

warnings will be added before the gnarly chapters

things are subject to change! mostly the tags, but nothing too major.

without further ado ♥

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

Above hangs an unfamiliar ceiling, corporate drop tiles, harsh light cutting hard shadows on its rigid surface.

“Hello, Ostrich!” That sharp voice cuts a line straight through my ears. “How are you?”

The words that come out of me are slurred, half-baked. “Good, how about you?”

“You’ve slept in. The school bus left twenty minutes ago.”

“What?” The heels of my palms sink into the foamy mattress as I push myself up and a nasty static builds in my head. 

“That sure got you up, eh?”

Green and white checkers line the laminate floor below, blinding white sunshine bouncing off its waxed and perfect surface into my fresh eye. Even as I try to blink away the ensuing dark blue blotch, the squares persist in the corners of my vision. 

That horrendous thing was there yesterday, too. 

Yesterday? What was I doing yesterday? I was here, wasn’t I, in the same room with the same pockmarked ceiling and the same sun and the same green and white. In that little instance in time in this room, in this body, under these blankets, my entire life happened. Before yesterday, there was nothing. 

Nothing? What am I talking about?

The person at my side raises a mushroom into a light beam. Motes of dust dance around the fungus, giving it a heavenly quality despite its globby and wrinkled appearance. “Look at this. You don’t think it’s poisonous, do you?”

“Professor Hange.” 

“Maybe I should feed it to, uh.” Their grip on the spout loosens and it falls with a pitter-patter. The face behind comes into focus: squarish goggles, hawkish nose, elastic mouth. “What did you just say?”

I rest a hand against my face at the sacrifice of stability. “Professor—”

Hange shoots up with a hard clatter as the milk crates they sat on are knocked over. “Shut up! Did you just— you— I thought—” They give up on words. “No!” And out comes a deep laugh. “No way!” 

They scramble to the other side of the room — it only takes a few steps — to a folding table pressed against the wall, plucking out a pen and paper with a crisp flourish. 

A knock comes from the open doorway at the foot of my bed, catching both of our attentions — it’s a middle-aged woman holding a stack of blankets. We lock eyes and she smiles, a movement that squishes the corner of her eyes into pleasantly deep wrinkles. Something compels me to return the gesture — and I will, probably, when the room stops tilting. She speaks. “Everything okay here? I heard something fall.” 

Hange doesn’t allow a huff of breathing room. “She remembered! Me!”

Her brows shoot up. “Really?” And the smile deepens. “See, I knew it was only a matter of time—” her gaze wanders to the paper— “what is that?”

Hange drums the notes with their fingertips, the sound strangely calming, like rain against a car window or grease simmering on a quiet night. “Paper.”

“For what?”

“Scientific observation.”

“No.”

The professor’s body deflates like a wilting flower and makes a sound like one, too, if wilting flowers could speak. “But I need to observe.”

Instead of thoughts, there lives a school of deep-sea fish in my head — too slippery to snag, pin down, and comprehend, but pretty to skim over and lose concentration. Every once in a while there’s a flash as one fleetingly separates from the herd, only to merge once more into the flickering storm, into itself. Pretty. The air swirls with nature’s sparkles. 

Where am I? Who am I? Why am I sitting on a bed, watching these two bicker? Why am I even on a bed at all? Where’s my mother? 

“Professor, from what I’ve heard, she just woke up. Couldn’t it wait a bit? At least make a decent first impression!”

“But it’s already—”

“Professor Hange Zoe! As a functional, responsible adult you should know—”

“Who said I was responsible? Yesterday I—”

“Um!”

The yammering terminates as both sources turn toward the origin of the disruption, me. What the hell am I thinking? “Sorry.” Sitting up is hard, especially when you’re sweating bullets in front of a crowd. I lean against the headboard. “Where am I?”

They share a glance, the new arrival’s notably pointed. “I’m trusting you with this.”

Hange beams. “Alright. Let’s get started with introductions, then.” With fierce velocity, their hand smacks their hollow chest (crumpling the paper within). “As you know, my name is Hange Zoe! I used to be a professor, but now I’m head of research. I believe we met yesterday, though I’m not sure how much of it you remember.” It whips to the side. “This lovely lady is Mirabel. She’s… she helps clean up sometimes.”

Said person carefully purses her lips. 

“To answer your question, we’re in a bathroom. Not just any bathroom! A bathroom of Shiganshina mall, or what we like to call, Shiganshina branch. Well, it’s more of an outpost than anything else, but it’s perfectly safe! You’re always welcome to leave, of course, but I personally don’t recommend it.” The last few words are muttered as an aside. 

“What?”

They continue. “By the way, there’s been a new virus going around.”

Covid?

Hange pulls their goggles into forehead territory. I’ve never seen their eyes before. “It’s probably not what you’re thinking — this virus I speak of is more contagious and much more deadly than anything we’re seen before. In fact, the whole world was shut down because of it, and nobody knows how! Rather, nobody’s able to think that hard anymore.” With a whirl, they sift through a pile of paper on the table. “This new virus… is so cool!” And they plop a blinding-white sheet on my lap. “So exciting!”

It’s a human diagram, complete with label lines and scribbled descriptions. If I focus, I can make out the words…

“It’s not something you wanna contract. A lot of us, firsthand, have seen the effects of it.”

When I try to flip the paper, it splits into two. There’s two pages. This one has the same person, but looks as if he was put through a meat grinder. 

“The effect of zombification.”

The single eye of the diagram stare at me. “Did you draw this?”

“No, it was my associate. Quite talented, isn’t— wait, that’s not the important part. Did you hear the part when I said ‘zombification?’ Like, as in zombies?” 

“Zombies?” Disappointingly, there’s no more pages. “I didn’t know they were real.” The zombie’s torn-up skin is beautifully shaded, hair clotted, teeth stained, eyes glassy, backbone knotted and humped and jutting into different directions. It’s handsome, even, in the same way an antique end table or fantastical map might.

From the background, Mirabel: “Maybe you shouldn’t have started with the virus thing.”

“You’re right… I reckon I have something that’ll jog the memory. Wait here.”

She clucks like a hen and then turns to me. “Are you all right, dear?”

The corner of the page is crimped, and the world comes back to me: heat under the blanket, tartness in my mouth, a tang of pain where my spine meets wood. “Ye– yes, ma’am.”

“You’re not cold, are you? Or hungry?”

“No.”

“Thirsty?”

“No, thank you.”

“Are you hurt?”

Slow. “I feel slow. Sorry, I’m not really sure if I’m saying anything that makes sense.”

“You’re only just waking up.” Warmth lands on my arm — her hand snuck up on me while I focussed on her face. “You— you’ve been in a bit of a coma of sorts for a while. Give it time, dear.”

“What are those blankets for?”

Mirabel looks taken aback and shifts the pile of blankets in her opposite arm around her body. “These ones?” As if there’s another stack of linens laying around that I’m referring to. “They’re for the children. Well, I suppose they wouldn’t be children to you.” A small, rolling chuckle. “They’re all around your age, including my son.”

“Aren’t you a bit young to be a mother?” 

“Ha!” she chortles, landing a side eye. “Charming little one, aren’t you? Ha!”

I half-shrug, awkward. I don’t know why I said that. “What’s he like? Your son.”

She puffs out her nose and shakes her head. “He can test my patience sometimes, that brat. You wouldn’t know it when you see him, but he used to be the sweetest thing.” She places the blankets on the bed, burrows into her back pocket — she’s wearing skinny jeans — and pulls out a sticky-looking wallet. She fiddles with it until a tongue of photo sleeves waterfall out like something out of a cartoon and points to the top one.

It’s Mirabel — younger Mirabel — seated with a hay-haired toddler with a jelly bean face and a beam stretching ear to ear. “His favourite food is veggie omelet.” She eases into a smile as well, as if the mere sight of the image sucks her back to that day a decade or so ago. 

I wonder who took the photo. “Cute.” Because what else am I supposed to say?

Her eyes flick from the wallet to my face. “I’m glad you think so, but there’s a reason he’s never had a girlfriend.”

“What?”

“What?”

Down the column of photos is another rendition of her son, evidently a more recent one, taken in his adolescence: middle-parted hair affixed with an illegal amount of gel, a petulant leer, smug lips a hair-length away from curling into a bonafide shit-eating smirk. “I meant his, uh, kid picture.”

“Of course, dear.” 

For the first time, I feel awake. 

Mirabel lets free a dainty laugh and makes herself at home on my bed. “Oh, I’m just teasing you. Don’t look so frightened! You’re like a fish.”

I blink away the stinging in my eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Hm.” The giggle subsides into a curve of the lips. “You’re sweet. I never really got the chance to properly speak to you in the past, but now I can see why Hange takes such a liking to you.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yes,” she responds, but her head tilts to the side a bit like she’s confused, or about to drop a bomb. “I… do believe you’ll see a great deal of things today, things you might not understand at first, but I want you to remember. Be kind to yourself, and be kind to others. Especially the children. Please be kind to them.”

Where did that come from? Against my better judgment, I want to ask.

“Hange debuts!”

Mirabel kind of falls into herself and the androgynous terror returns, fist clenched and waving like a weapon. “Catch!” And it splays open.

A small something glimmers in midair before manifesting as a sharp pain on my collarbone. “Ow!”

“I told you to catch.”

The thing is hard, and made a thunk when it hit. One hand reaches to rub the surely future bruise as the other rummages through the folds, searching. The professor plops on the other side of the bed as my finger finally catches and raises the object: a small metal plate swinging off a beaded chain. “A dog tag?”

Sinking onto their elbow, Hange beams. “You like it?” Yeah, just make yourself at home.

“It’s pretty cool.”

“I was expecting a bigger reaction.”

The plate slowly rotates on its string, revealing engraved letters. 

0009

MARLEY

– – – 

The bottom line’s missing.

“Do you remember this?” Hange leans forward, teetering dangerously on their arm. 

“Am I supposed to?”

“Interesting.” They pull out a pad and pen from nowhere, letting their chin hit the mattress, and jots down the word “Interesting.”

“Interesting?” I echo.

“It was on your neck when we found you.” They draw an imaginary line around their neck.

I look at the silver-grey pendant again, this time through a film of scrutiny as if focussing harder can unlock some ancient hidden memory. It doesn’t.

“Can I ask questions now?” Hange whines. 

Mirabel’s eyes roll, then rest on mine. “What do you think?”

“Me?” She nods. “I don’t see a problem w—”

“Great!” They heave ramrod straight and flip to a new page in the notepad. “For starters, tell us your name.”

My jaw unhinges. Hange looks on, wide-eyed, awaiting an answer that will never come. My name, my name. Just answer this simple question. Tell them your name.

“I can’t.”

The floodgates are open now. I’m scrambling for even an iota of memory that belongs to myself, that defines me, that makes me my own person, but there’s nothing there. It’s like trying to see something that’s just too far away to see, or too small to focus on, something that I can touch but never, never feel. It’s not fair, because those memories belong to me. I can feel them. They’re right there! But the more I reach, the closer I’ll get. Isn’t that right?

What’s the last thing I can remember? The sad-looking mushroom? No, before that. Hange, shoving pebbles in their mouth? No, that happened yesterday. Mirabel with worry on her mouth and shaking my shoulder? No, that’s now. 

“Yo! Little amnesiac?”

“Hello? Are you okay?”

And just like that, I’m back. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t do it.”

She smiles, but the concern is still there. “It’s okay, dear, don’t force it. Nobody is angry. It will come in time.”

Hange is right beside her. “Okay, but can you force it a teeny bit? Umph.” Mirabel elbows them hard. “Okay, fine, next question.” They tap their temple, crimping strands of shaggy, brown hair. “Now, what’s the last thing you remember?”

Yesterday — again, yesterday! — I was awakened as Hange barged in with a small velvet sack and spilled its little circular contents onto the green and white. Before that, I was looking at the ceiling, and before that, my eyes were closed. Before that… 

“I don’t know. Yesterday, my eyes were closed, and then I was looking at the ceiling, and then you came in, Professor, and spilled some rocks on the ground, and put them in your mouth. Before that, though, I can’t—” My hand runs up my cheek, onto my forehead, fingers weaving through strands of hair as if trying to scoop the brain encased within. “There’s nothing.” My other hand comes up too, and they squeeze. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

They fall silent. “Do you want to hear a story, Ostrich?”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Good question,” they smirk, pulling their goggles back on. Rising to their feet (and making that side of the bed spring up), they clasp their hands in the crook of their back, straightening with newfound importance.

“Long ago—” Mirabel cringes and stands up as well— “there existed a hotel named the Ostrich owned by one John Jarman and his wife, Mary. This hotel was very, very special, as it was the site of over sixty murders — notably, murders of very rich people. These killings were conducted by none other than the Jarmans themselves. 

“When they got a rich visitor, Sir Jarman would call out to his lady.” Their voice reaches a comical low. “‘Honey, there’s a fat pig here if ya want one.’ To which his wife would reply—” now their voice turns up several octaves— “‘Okay, honey, just put it in the sty till morrow!’ 

“So they’d butter the guest up and put him in a special room right above the kitchen. And when all was quiet in the night… Bam! The floor opened up, the bed tilted backwards, and he’d be dropped in a vat of boiling oil. Have you ever had chicharrones? After that, the corpse was stripped of anything valuable and thrown into a river. And by the morning, it was like he was never even there. 

“But one day the Jarmans made a fatal mistake — their eyes grew bigger than their brains. For they tried to go after a particularly popular and wealthy man and got caught when people noticed his horse wandering around.” Curling their lip in… scorn? They continue. “Do you know why I named you after this hotel?”

I’m full of dead, fried rich people? “Why?”

They lightly tap one of their lenses. “Because John and Mary are such boring names.”

“You would have named me John?”

Their hands fly to their hips. “Well, with that attitude, little missy, I just might!”

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

The two of them deemed my condition — both mental and physical — up to par to go out into the big, wide world. 

Shiganshina is a hollowed-out shopping mall. Brightness radiates in from the paned ceiling and bounces off the white walls, keeping the palace bright and warm — a nice contrast to the cooler temperatures of dying winter. 

The mystery hallway leads into a walkway that wraps around the internal perimeter of the building’s second story, the occasional bridge connecting opposite pathways above the first floor way below. Green and white still dominate the catwalk here with only the pattern switching from checkerboard to big white squares with tiny green diamonds at every corner. Anything else would be asking too much, I guess.

Hange’s gait is easy. Mirabel’s steps are more forward and practiced. A few people pass by, but for the most part, this place is barren. Not one individual is spared from Hange’s greetings. 

“Abel!” Our procession halts as Hange locates their next victim. “You’re looking nice and groomed today. What is it, a new oil or something? How are you?” They hold out a hand in greeting.

Abel wears thick, strapped glasses over his short, blond hair. He rubs the side of his index finger along the nice and groomed scruff on his jaw. “Very well, thanks.”

“It’s a beautiful afternoon, isn’t it? The sun’s—”

“Very nice.”

“Ah.”

Abel gets right down to business. “So did you get the field notes from—”

Someone across the abyss falls with a yelp, dropping what sounds to be several dozen metal pipes. The tings echo and take too long to dissipate, but the two keep talking.

If I don’t find out what my name is, I’ll be Ostrich forever. I let my gaze wander. If anything, this place is well taken care of — it doesn’t smell terrible, the floor and walls are spotless, and the people seem alright. The person in charge of cleaning here is doing a great job — even the glass-paneled railings are crystal clear. 

Most of the stores here are occupied by random pieces of junk, but a few have their large display windows blocked out in some way or another. The one closest to me is covered by a blanket depicting some sort of house. 

Wait, not a blanket. Someone actually took the time to paint this window from the inside. 

A cabin in a field backed by a rocky cliff, chopped logs littering the area before it. The chipped (and in some places, peeling) planks holding the structure together are of the same material as a wide picnic table near the scattered logs, adorned with the various foods of the forest. There isn’t anything particularly special about the subject — the grass rolls, the apples shine, and the windows hint at nothing. But it’s empty, as if the residents just left or disappeared or vanished. As if something very, very wrong is happening. There is a stranger looking out from the window. It moves. 

Me. Me? It’s me. Oh, who is that?

“Ostrich?”

Hange bears a look of mild concern which is quickly wiped out by their usual grin. “I’ve got some business here with Abel, so you guys’ll have to continue on without me. Right, Abel?” He grunts. He’s probably the type to hide in a dark, moist corner in perpetual squat. “Try not to miss dear old Hange too much.”

Mirabel beckons me with her head. “We’ll do our best. Right?”

“Yeah.” You’re overthinking this, Ostrich. It’s just a nice glass painting. We say our goodbyes.

Constant motion and colour keep my concentration hostage on our trek. It’s fun to peek into the open windows to see piles of empty water jugs or folding chairs or construction equipment, or to read the vivid signs above them to see what could have been. A few people still litter the area, to whom Mirabel nods or says a small greeting to. It’s quiet. 

“Almost there.” 

I step a little longer to catch up to the woman as she points with her chin. She loves using her head.

“You see it?”

In a darker corner lives a store with Spencer’s graffitied on the half-drawn garage door that serves as its entrance. Brick makes up the walls. Its single, large display window hints at nothing, obscured by… clothes?

“We’re not going in there, are we?”

The place is silent. Mirabel raps her knuckles on the door before forcing it up with a metallic squeal. “Hello?” She continues inside. I trail behind.

Like the surrounding area, the interior is dim, with the far reaches of the narrow room fading to black. Though the store seems to have been emptied of its original merchandise (thankfully), it’s far from empty: soft contours of cloth line the floor, trinkets lay askew and scattered, and food wrappers glisten in small clumps. A wet dog smell permeates through every pore and crevice of my body — it’s either poorly ventilated or contains something that gives off enough scent to cancel out any fresh air.

A large platform against the back and right walls spans nearly the entire area, hanging a few feet below the ceiling. Blankets spew out from beneath makeshift curtains tied to the exposed pipes above, effectively screening it. 

Lining the walls below the platform are wired bakers’ racks, piled with clothing and miscellanea. 

It’s lived in.

“Amazing, hmm?” Aluminum screeches as Mirabel pushes and knocks over a few cans with her foot to make space for the blankets. “How quickly a dozen or so adolescents can tear through a clean room! We haven’t sent any cleaners lately in hopes they’ll do it themselves — ha! — but you can see how well that’s going. Even the dorms back in Trost are cleaner.”

Cleaners? Trost? “Adolescents?” Fearing attack, I don’t turn away from the shadowed jungle. “This is where they all live?”

“For now, yes. And it’s where you’ll be staying, as well.” Her footsteps grow a bit louder as she nears. “It seems everyone’s out right now.”

My breaths grow shorter on their own. Maybe because of the smell. “I’m staying here?” 

“Are you coming along, Ostrich?” Looks like she didn’t hear. 

“Actually, can I stay here?”

“Really?” She’s shocked. “Okay, well if you ever need help, ask anyone down in the kitchens. They’re all very nice, I assure you. I’ll be making my rounds, so I won’t be staying down there for long.”

I risk a glance and little wave at Mirabel’s silhouette, prompting her to join the black mass that is the wall. I’m not sure what to feel.

Luckily, I manage to find some sort of electric lamp. Click. A rough circle of light surrounds me, exemplifying the absolute filth of this place.

I’m staying here? As much as I try, I can’t squeeze an ounce of emotion out. It’s not that I don’t care, right? It’s just that I don’t know anything better than this. I don’t remember a better time. Why am I even here? I should have gone with Mirabel. 

Of all the people I can be, I have to be a stupid one.

Maybe I should start cleaning. 

A few ungainly steps later and I’m in the hallway. I try not to stare down the next person walking down the hall as they pass. “Excuse— excuse me.” I wave.

It’s a woman with choppy copper hair. She seems weirdly happy as she points toward the requested cleaning supplies before making her way off to wherever. I don’t step on a single green diamond on my way there.

JANITORIAL ROOM

Authorized Personnel Only

It has a square, wired window too high up for me to peek inside and a door handle — not knob — which needs to be messed with a little before opening. I step in and let the door whoosh and click shut behind me.

“Nobody taught you to knock, brat? What the hell do you want?”

Every organ in my body purges as the strange little man looks up from whatever he was doing. Somehow, my voice finds me. “Clean.”

He rests his elbows on the mini table before him, the resulting wobble nearly knocking over the spray bottle and various chemicals on top. Light from the door’s window frames his face perfectly, sliced up by the cable crisscrossing its inner surface. “Speak up, or don’t bother wasting my time.”

What’s with this guy? Inching my hand to the knob — not handle — behind me, I clear my thought process and focus on the space between his steel-sharp eyes. “I would like to clean, sir. The dorms, that is. I’m here for cleaning supplies. That’s all. Sir.” Please don’t bash my head in with a spray bottle. 

“Hm.” He narrows his eyes. “New?”

New? Oh, he’s talking about me! “Yes. Sir.”

“Come here.”

What choice do I have?

He rises to his full, impressive height as I approach. I don’t need to see him to feel the force of his demands, just watch my toes. “I don’t want to see a single speck. All beds should be made, blankets should be tucked, no mop streaks, and so help me if there are any wall stains. Understood?” 

“Yessir.” Please, somebody let me out of here. 

His arm flourishes to the impressive collection of cleaning supplies on the wall. “Take what you need.”

“Thank you, sir.” If that arm even clipped me… I slink around his throne, somehow still feeling his stare when he’s turned the other way. Broom and dustpan, disposable gloves, a few garbage bags, cleaning spray—

“That won’t do.” Frozen in a squat, I listen helplessly as his startlingly heavy footsteps stop inches behind me. Plastic crinkles in the dark as the man snatches something near my ear. “You need thick gloves, that thin shit won’t do. And here.” Somewhere near the end of the room is a clatter and a thump. “Nobody worth their weight forgets the bucket. And—” another thump— “Scrub Daddy. Unless you want to scrub the grime with your teeth?”

Scrub Daddy? Nothing comes out when I open my mouth, so I force-clear my throat. “No, sir.” The bucket is shoved into my arms — I barely catch it in time — as he breezes past, taking up his throne once more. “Thank you, sir,” I say to the air.

“One last thing,” he juts as I clear his desk, making my cells disintegrate for a moment. A mystery object lands in the bucket.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Out.”

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

I start by picking up every non-garbage item (as far as I can tell) and tossing them on the big shelf by the window, then bagging the actual garbage with the gloves. The broom takes care of the dust and dirt between the hardwood and under the collection of bakers’ racks — it puffs up thick, so I’m eternally grateful to the janitor for the last-minute bandana mask. At least, it’s what I think the white cloth is for. If it’s a loincloth or something I just might hurl myself to floor one. But why would he give me a loincloth?

Then comes the task of cleaning the platform. This entails lobbing up the lantern and praying it won’t break, the incredibly perilous trip up on a wobbly ladder which will probably tip or break or be the catalyst to the end of my short life, pushing out an absolute jungle of futons, sleeping bags, quilts, pillows, and other horrifying objects, and actually falling off but landing safely but shaken onto the teeming pile. I push it all out, onto a pre-cleaned portion of the hall. 

Finding no water anywhere, I manage to flag down another passerby who directs me to some sort of pulley system that brings up tubfuls of water. It also seems to mutter and sing. Strange. I lug one in, fill the bucket, scrub the walls until I run out, and repeat. I do this again with the mop on the floor, making sure to get rid of any streaks. 

My whole body burns but still comes the reassembly process. Using the mop handle, I beat the devils out of the pile in the hallway before lugging everything back up on a borrowed stepladder. Everything’s out of order — that’s someone else’s problem.

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

At some point Hange checks in and drags me out to the now-dark mall. I didn’t even notice the room darkening as I worked. It was strangely therapeutic. 

It’s different at night. The whole place would be in black if not for the periodic solar lights stuck to the walls, ceilings, and support beams, basking us in yellow and white. 

“I don’t know how, but you did it!” Their glee is evident as we snake through the now-empty platform, hands clasped, feet pounding polished concrete. “Levi’ll love it. The cadets’ll love it! Hell, maybe we can even squeeze a  ‘good job’ outta the Comm– never mind, that’s pushing it. Whatever! We’re almost there.”

“Professor, I left the supplies—” 

“Shut! We’re here.”

“But—”  

My arm wrenches to the side, followed by my body, as the leader shoulders through an emergency exit. My back burns. A film of darkness lays over my eyes, the plopping of our steps more prominent than ever. Another second and my legs will give out.

Hange pushes through another door, this one requiring a little more strength. Moonlight. The earth, sparse and grassy, far below. Something sharp biting through my slipper socks and cold breezing in through the leg holes of my dusty pyjama bottoms. Reflexively, I suck in a stabbing, frosty lungful of air that billows out in a big puff, steam engine style. The smoke clears to reveal two silhouettes against the cloudy sky.

“Surprise, you two!” The professor claps the painful divet between my shoulder blades. “Meet our newest installment. You might know this one already.” They drive me forward, my lazy steps doing little to deter the action.

The two are easy to tell apart — one is a smiling, freckled unit and the other is glum and fluorescent-eyed. I would go blind if I stared too long (he’d pluck my eyes out). Both have dark hair and grow more menacing with each reluctant step.

Bright-eyes speaks first. “Professor Hange!”

“Woah, Professor!” the tall one exclaims almost simultaneously. “Isn’t it a bit cold for just pyjamas?”

“She’s fine.” Their head pops into view. “You’re fine, right? Levi will kill me if someone gets sick.”

Pushing my cold legs together, I nod. “It’s a beautiful day.”

“No way,” Tall chuckles, already undoing his coat. “It’s too cold.” The zips of his waterproof cloth don’t drown out his voice as he shrugs it off. “You’ll be needing this more than me.” He finally sheds the garment, handing it over. 

For me? “Thank you.” 

“No problem. I’m actually very weather resistant. You might be surprised.” He beams with the heat of a weighted quilt on a winter morning. Maybe I don’t really need this coat.

But a sudden chill sobers me and it’s on in an instant.

“What’s up with this?” the smaller one asks, waving in my general direction. 

Hange shrugs. “Started to remember. All good. Okay, I’m done here.” Hange half-stumbles back to their other foot that wedges the door open. “I’ll get back to business, then. See you, Ostrich.”

“See you,” I mutter. 

And with a screech, they’re gone.

Tall doesn’t waste a moment. “So, it’s Ostrich! It’s nice to finally see you walking around.”

Starry-eyes lowers himself to sit criss-cross, opting to stare into space through the metal grate railing. 

“Thanks, it’s… nice. Walking around and all.” What am I doing here.

With an amused breath, he tilts his head. “You don’t remember us, do you?”

Not meeting his eyes, I shake my head. 

He brings forth his big hand. “I’m Marco. My friend over here is Eren.”

He’s smiling again. Our hands meet — his is rough around the edges and warm, even the dark band around his finger, and I release it a bit too quickly. “Hi, Marco. Eren.” Something about this meeting kills me. 

“Alright, well, hey, sit down, Ostrich. You’re one of us, you know.” Marco plops down and taps a nearby cushion. “How are you feeling?”

I sit. It’s cold. “That’s a good question.”

“Yeah… I realize now it’s pretty dumb.” His freckles are all messed up as he scrunches up his nose. 

My focus switches between the far-away ground and the plaid cushion I’m on. “Yeah.” Then snaps back to Marco’s face. “Wait, no. I’m not saying your question was dumb, I’m just— it’s—”

His short laugh cuts me off. “Relax. You don't need to be nervous.”

“Okay.” This mouth of mine. It’s a death trap. 

Marco’s fingers pick at the spaces between the metal. “So, how are you liking Shiganshina so far?”

I rub the sleeves of the coat together. Zip, zip, zip. Why did he give this to me? “It’s nice. Hange is nice, the people are… nice. The view is nice from here.”

“You’re allowed to say bad stuff, too,” he pries half-jokingly. 

“I don’t like the dorms.”

“Ah, there we go.” He stretches backwards. “Yeah. Nobody does, really, but it’s the only room with heat. It’s liveable.”

Eren snorts, his first real contribution to the conversation. “Stop lying to yourself. Everyone hates it.”

“Okay, yeah, everyone hates it.”

Is now a good time to say that I cleaned them? I don’t know how to do it without sounding arrogant. Is it arrogant? It’s quiet now, but for how much longer? I should just step up and say it. It would make them happy. No, it wouldn’t. Yes, it would.

“Anyways,” Marco breezes, “how many of the others have you met?” 

“Others?” I respond dumbly.

“The other cadets. The other teenagers, if you will.”

Oh, the children. “I haven’t.”

“Then you’ll be meeting them all. Tonight!” He drums his fingertips on the metal. “Everyone’ll be back tonight, bar one guy. But I can introduce you to him myself.”

What. “How many people? I mean, if you don’t mind.” As if knowing can make tonight sound even less appealing. 

“Uh, ten? There’s me, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Eren-Mika-Armin…” With every entry, he puts up a finger. “Reiner and Bert, Ymir, Christa, and Annie. That’s, what…” He looks at his fingers, lost. 

Every name drags me down an inch or two. “Thirteen, including me.”

“Right. Wow, there’s a lot of people!” Marco puts his hands away and pauses, brownish eyes drilling into mine. “Hey, don’t be nervous. Everyone’s really nice, I promise. And we’ve all met you in the past.”

Again with that. It’s like everyone’s in on a secret inside joke that only I don’t know, except that inside joke is me. 

But he’s so very easy to trust, even though we’re strangers. As long as he’s there with me, it can’t be too bad… I squish into his coat and try a smile. “Okay.” You cheesy fucking bastard. Woah, potty mouth. 

He smiles too, and I don’t have to try anymore. “But I have to warn you, it can get a bit loud sometimes.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

Hands springing to life, he straightens to the point of tipping back. “You have no idea!”

Sensing Marco’s incoming story, my smile becomes toothy.

“Shut up!”

Like an anvil, Eren’s hushed yell pulverizes our talk. He points at something he’s looking at, prompting Marco to stand. I follow suit.

The balcony overlooks some sort of large garden with alternating lit and shadowed rows of ridged dirt, garden tools, and the rare green smudge that indicates growth. All is surrounded by a tall ring of trash composed of cars, construction fences, broken skids, metal railings, rocks, or anything, really, that can stand on its own and keep anyone or anything out. The pale dirt ends in grass and trees some way beyond the barrier. 

“Another one.” Marco squats to jot some ink onto paper.

“Another what?” An invisible chill runs through the area, making the leaves rustle and shift the dappled pattern of light and shade they cast. Nothing’s there. 

And then my shoulder and cheek are encased in warmth as Marco gets real close and aligns his line of vision with my own. “Right there.” I feel the voice more than I hear it. His pointing finger ends at a spot where dirt and grass meet. “See?”

Where’s he pointing? Marco’s close. Wait, where is he pointing? I’m about to ask again when a sudden movement ends my straying — a pale branch, creeping, wobbling forward from beneath the silvery blades. 

Hand.

Twiglike fingers drag and push into the dirt, joints bending backwards. The attached arm contracts, presumably dragging forward a body. Despite its horrendously bony characteristic — even from this second- or third-floor view, I can easily make out the double-beamed support of the forearm — it keeps scraping forward. Closer. Every inch pulls the blood down to my feet. 

“Third crawler tonight. Wonder what’s up with that.”

The person wears nothing. Something about the distance or lighting gives whatever skin isn’t torn up or filthied a washed-out hue.

“Maybe there’s a bear.”

The hand jerks forward again, disregarding rocks or twigs, shakily pulling the body into view. That is, the head and one side of the torso.

Where’s the rest? Why is nobody doing anything? Why can’t I? Doesn’t that thing need help? What does its skin feel like? How long? How long until it touches me?

“You wanna get the pager this time, Eren?”

“Yeah.” 

Foliage and deep red blood decorate the loops and sacs that bulge and trail out of the chest cavity, the surrounding ribs prominent and hanging by whatever holds ribs together. The creature shudders, loosing a few organs with a sickening swell. It persists.

Click-click. Click. “Drunk bastard’s asleep!” The statement is followed by a series of loud bangs that rattle our cage and resonate in my teeth. “God-fucking-damn it. Hannes. Wake up. Hannes!”

“Don’t, Eren. He’s pretty much out of commission anyways.” 

“No shit! Should I go down?”

“No rush.” With a final rattle, a clothed arm obscures my view. 

“Hey.” A pale blur which turns out to be a waving hand belonging to Eren catches my focus. “Your ears. Plug them, or something.”

Marco’s elbow clears the railing. He holds a lengthy rifle with its butt against his shoulder and his cheek along its length, a single saucer-wide eye trained on the target. 

I didn’t even notice he left my side. 

He hisses — in or out, I couldn’t tell — before the air blasts into pure noise. 

Sometime in the aftermath, my legs decide to sit me down. Marco (and, after a final glance into the forest, Eren) turns his attention towards me, his words completely lost to the high-pitched din but his actions clear as ever — reaching out as if to cuff my ears, shrinking back, looking sheepish. “Sorry,” he mouths. Once again, he points at the figure with something like pride. From this angle it’s apparent that its head is imploded; I prefer to stare at the shockingly good marksman with the sanest grin I can muster.

“Did you hear the part when I said ‘zombification?’ Like, as in zombies?”

No, this isn’t happening. I’m dreaming, that’s what. Of course. 

Granted, this feels all to real. The human brain is a marvel of nature, isn’t it? Can’t wait to wake up.

The two engage in strained conversation of flurrying hand movements and exaggerated pronunciation, resulting in Marco waving goodbye and going inside. The remaining pair of us sit together in the high-pitched eee until it dissipates into the non-silence of nighttime. 

“So.” Eren shuffles his feet closer to him, knees in his arms. “Can you hear now?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess it’s your first time seeing one.”

Seeing what? Say the word. “Yep.”

Skimming over the corpse, he wrings his hands. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

Eren worries his mouth as if sucking off some goo on his teeth, and suddenly blurts, “I hate it.”

Zombie. You’re imagining it, Ossie, tomorrow you’ll wake up in that room again and forget everything. “Hate what?”

“What do you think?” He waves at the mall. “This. And everything else. Those things. They ruined everything.” A telltale waver slips into his speech. “Everything we do is dictated by them. I hate it. I mean. Have we ever really had anything?” 

Like a long-winded siren, the boy’s volume gradually increases. Sirens mean danger. 

“Is it that bad?” 

Something snaps quietly. “We’re living like fucking livestock here, don’t you realize that? I thought your head’s better now, so why can’t you see that it’s not supposed to be okay? Our life is confined to these walls—” here he whips out his hand at the aforementioned wall, the motion rippling through his torso— “and the whole world outside is lost! Lost! Everything! They took everything from me! From us! And you’re just gonna accept that?”

Is he always like this? A walking time bomb? My body weight shifts forward as if to spring on my feet. “Eren—”

“No.” 

With the piling pressure his eyes grew from a smolder to a bonfire, ravenous in a forest of decay. 

But in the same way, it’s almost childlike. Was it the same sense of anger? Frustration? Invisibility? Innocence? It’s probably not that deep. “Yes?”

“You don’t remember it, so you wouldn’t understand.” He doesn’t try to hide his distaste. “But they’re not… supposed to be here. It’s— we are. It’s our world. You get it? They took it from us. Took our plans, our dreams. Our families.” Stiff-fisted and tight-jawed, he continued. “I hate them. They need to be eliminated. You get it? I’m…”

He gathers himself. 

“I’m gonna do it, Ostrich, myself or otherwise.” I slip into his eyes. “Every last one of them. I’m going to kill them all. Not sparing a single one… I’m gonna kill them all.” 

And I fall. “What's stopping you?” 

Those creatures with broken ribs and beautiful hair. Let him do as he pleases with them. It doesn't concern me. Soon I’ll wake up. I’ll wake up. 

He oozes into a more comfortable expression as the door bursts open behind me. “Alright, so the Hannes problem is taken care of,” Marco announces. “You should come inside, Ostrich, there’s someone I want you to meet. Actually, Eren, you should go, too. I’ll keep watch for a while.”

Someone to meet? 

Eren’s expression lapses into annoyance. “What happened to the two-person protocol?”

“It’ll be brief.”

“What’s it about again? Think you forgot to mention that part.” 

“You’ll see when you get there, he’s waiting just outside the inner door.”

Back to Eren. “Whatever.” He leans to one side as he gets up. “Let’s go.”

The returnee holds open the door, flashing a small smile as I cross. Cheeky bastard. 

I’m joking.

Eren holds open the second door behind him, flashing a small glance to make sure it doesn’t close on me. I mutter a quick thanks as we stand, seeing… 

Nothing. 

“There’s nobody here.” The boy sifts through his hair. “What the hell, Marco?”

The wall behind us booms thrice — I flinch — and yells, “Eren, is that you?”

At this, he brings up his other hand and drags them both down his face with a drawn-out groan. “What the hell, Marco?”

I nearly touch his shoulder. “What’s going on?”

“Wait, who’s that?” the wall — rather, the person inside — hollers. “Eren, you’re sounding pretty feminent today.”

“Connie, what the hell are you doing in there?”

“Woah! He’s back!” The wall cackles. “So, uh, I need help.”

Marco, you cheeky bastard. 

With a sigh, Eren’s hands drop. “Ostrich, this is Connie. Consider yourself lucky you don’t remember his face.” His next words are forced through his teeth. “Connie. Introduce yourself.”

“Wait, it’s you, Ossie?” Something hard hits another hard thing. “Ow! Ossie, it’s me, Connie! Remember me? Handsome face, Greek physique? Connie?”

I smile at the flat surface. “Hi, Connie. Sorry, I don't remember you.”

“Aww.”

“Come out to introduce yourself,” Eren grunts, leaning against the wall. 

“Well, that’s the problem, señor. I can’t.”

“What?”

“I’m stuck.” 

“Just get out.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Cuz I’m stuck.” 

If looks could kill, the plaster would have a smoking hole with the wall inhabitant’s crisp body in the middle; intervening at this point just might save Connie’s life. 

“Uh, Er— uh. Let’s just get him out?” 

With a deep breath, he nods.

What am I supposed to do now? Eren looks on expectantly. “Connie.” It’s so weird, saying that name out loud. I hold up my fist as if to knock, but decide against it. “Can you move?”

“Yeah, if I go sideways. There’s more space down this way though.” Footsteps and random bumps move in the opposite direction of the exit door.

Eren holds his impressive eyebrows derisively high. 

“You just need to get out, right?” As long as we find his point of entry, he should be fine. Right? “Where did you come in?”

“I dunno. I got lost.” Without warning, he squawks and enters some sort of hyperventilated frenzy. “Sorry, spider web. But I think there’s wind coming from over here. Wind equals good, right?” His voice fades. “Wait, you guys are following me, right?”

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

We end up in front of the janitor’s office. My visible companion clicks his tongue. 

“Before you ask, no, I’m not going in there.” 

“Aw, come on!” Connie whines. “I can’t get out myself and it’s dark and smelly in here! There’s spiders and ghosts!”

Waving the air as if brushing Connie off, Eren leans in close. He smells like plywood. “Let’s just go. Nobody’ll miss him. We can tell Marco he got out on his own.”

It’s hard to tell if he’s joking.

“I can hear you!” Bang bang bang. “I can heaar you…” Bang bang bang bang bang. “Gemme out!” 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I venture with a sprinkling of irony. Just in case he actually is joking. 

“Let me out!”

“I mean.” He glances at the spot where the noise emanates. “It’s not like he’s gonna die.”

Is he serious?

He scans my face and scratches his jaw. “Fine, we’ll get him.”

That’s better. “But we can’t really do anything if the janitor’s still inside. Can you check if he’s in there?”

“Why me?” He shoots a dour look down his nose. “Never mind.” Pushing his back flush to the door, he inches sideways until the window is nearly in line with his ear, snatches a peek, and gives a thumbs-up.

“So we just have to go in there and pull Connie out… right?”

“Actually, it’ll be better if one of us stays out here to keep watch. Take this.” Pulling up the bottom of his sweatshirt, he digs into his pants pocket and pulls out a square solar-powered light. “I’ll knock if he appears. Good luck.”

“Thanks?”

And then the door to the janitor’s closet shuts behind me once more, darkness pressing and eating up the edges of my vision. 

Thanks, Eren. After all I’ve done for you. 

I need light — how did I turn this thing on? My fumbling fingers eventually reach a soft button and push, directing light straight through my head. Great. I point the light somewhere useful. 

Rows of columns of cleaning gear, some still in their original packaging, hang from hooks extending from the white pegboard or rest on one of the numerous shelves. I didn’t see all this before — it’s like a torture chamber for dirt. A few feet from the entrance of the rectangular room is the folding table in which the janitor made his first appearance, now cleared of all equipment. “Hey, Connie? Where are you?”

“Right here.” Pointing the light upwards, I’m able to catch my first glimpse of the guy, in the gap between the top of the pegboard and the ceiling. “Hey, I can see my hand! I’m not a ghost!” He waves excitedly, hysterically even.

Until someone bashes their knuckles on the door. Not a second later the light clicks out. 

“Ostrich! C’mere!”

“Where?” I trudge dumbly toward his voice, bumping into what feels and sounds like a mop bucket and breathing a curse. No way they didn’t hear that. 

“Here!” Fingers patter on the particleboard. “Come on!”

Snippets of voice come from the entrance. No more stealth. I rush toward the opposite side of the room, tossing the light over before fumbling and grabbing Connie’s hand. It’s smooth.

“Hold on…” With astonishing force, he pulls me back.

“Woah—” I push my feet against the wall — please don’t break — hooking my other hand over. Connie grabs that too. 

The door swings open as I make it over, flip for a churning fraction of a second, and land heavily on Connie’s body. He grunts on impact just as a flashlight flicks on. 

“Hm,” says the janitor. Brightness sweeps over us on the concrete in small pegboard-sized circles. I can’t breathe; Connie scarcely takes a breath himself. Through a pinhole, his slow and crisp footsteps matches the image of his boots. He kicks the mop bucket to the side with a loud plastic grinding sound. We flinch. 

“Mop bucket fell over. Damned thing.” He drops the light somewhere and settles the mop against the wall. “You can leave now.”

“Er. Yes, Captain.” Eren. The door eases shut. 

“Captain” adjusts the light once more, straightens his throne, and sits down with a sigh. 

Slowly, almost painfully so, I roll onto the cool, grainy ground. 

Something taps my hand. Highlighted by a pockmark is Connie’s eye, hazel to the point of yellow, which swivels back away from the janitor’s room. We need to get out. As sparingly as possible, I nod, though I’m not sure if he sees it. 

We stand in silent — but shared — agony, the kind that shakes your limbs and makes the floor seem hundreds of metres down. Connie takes my hand, forming a clammy layer in between, and leads us back the way he came. We slow and separate. 

“I think we’re okay here,” he mutters, turning on the light in his other hand to reveal his massive grin and bald head. Thank god he remembered that. “Heh heh, that was a close one, huh?”

“Yeah, we nearly escaped death by bludgeoning.” I tremblingly slump against a wood support as he giggles. “That’s hilarious.”

His mood isn’t quelled. “Ohh, come on, have some humour.”

“We’re trapped, aren’t we?”

“You know.” His scalp glistens with a thousand tiny hairs as he lifts the light over himself. “Some ladies would kill for a moment alone with this handsome fellow.”

This guy serious? I’m not seeing that ‘Greek physique.’ “I’m sure.”

Gently, he lays down the torch, springs up, and digs into the pocket of his neon green and black zippered hoodie with a crinkle. “So grumpy, huh? Here.” A wrapped good is tossed into my lap as Connie falls on his ass. Inside is something squishy and dense. “It’s a Twinkie,” he explains at my probing. “I was looking for a place to hide them so Sasha can’t eat them. Don’t tell her I’m giving this to you, she’ll crucify me.” Having successfully pulled apart the top of the package, he bites the whole thing in half, pulling back to extract the sugary flesh.

“Are you sure?” The edge of the clear plastic is smooth and flimsy.

Crumbs spray from his mouth. “Just promise me you’ll stop being grumpy.”

Grumpy? I blink a few times. “Okay, I promise.” I slide to the ground too, smiling. “I’ll be nice.”

“Better be.”

My face drops. “Connie.”

He sniffs. “Relax, Ossie. Just enjoy your… freshly crushed Twinkie.” He tilts his head in fake arrogance. 

“You know, Connie, if somebody didn’t get stuck in a wall, he wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.”

“I could have left you in the janitor’s office.”

The words come out before I can stop them. “I could have left you with Eren.”

He sticks out his tongue. 

The crinkling dominates before I manage to tear open a corner of my package, opting to squeeze out the cake which oozes and cracks like a sad horse. I take the crumbly glop on my tongue. 

“Pretty good, huh?” Connie sprays. “You wouldn’t even know it expired six months ago.”

The sweet in my mouth turns bitter. “Six months,” I utter without swallowing, a line of drool threatening to spill. Bacteria and fungi spread their tiny poisonous seeds, creating rot. “That’s… fine.”

“Hey, if you got a problem with it, I’ll gladly take it off you.” He holds out a hand expectantly. 

Before he can react I squeeze the package some more. In a movement similar to his own, I scrape out the remaining pulp with my teeth and swallow.

Connie’s jaw goes slack as I chew, then shoots upward with a clack. “Okay, girlypop, okay! It’s all yours!” The statement is finished with a cackle.

“I said it’s fine, Connie,” I state, definitely spilling some this time. “A little mould won’t kill me now.”

“Yeah, if—” his eyes wander my face— “if the embarrassment doesn’t get you first!” His hysteria surges as he points. “You look so stupid right now! A lifetime’s worth of Twinkie!” He exhales more than he breathes in and soon resorts to gasping for air.

“Me?” I dart a sleeve over my mouth, though it’s already too late. “Look who’s talking!”

The filling in his mouth decorates his chin, legs, and floor. “I don’t take shade from a person named Ostrich. Gotta be the dumbest bird to be named after.”

“Well, I don’t take shade from a person named Connie.”

“Yeah? What’s wrong with my name?”

I pretend to see something interesting on the ceiling, pretend I’m not about to explode into a stupid grin. “I just think Connor is better.” 

“Okay—” he conjures the most serious face he can muster— “you’ve officially made it to my enemies list. Prepare for living hell.”

“What’re you gonna do, shine the sun off your head like a flash bomb?” Now I cackle. 

Okay, maybe that was a little bit mean. 

“Hey! This—” he jerks his hands round his head, the motion affecting his entire hunched form— “is a choice! I shave my own head ‘cuz I want it that way!”

“Okay,” I choke. “Okay, you’re bald by choice.” 

“Stop laughing!” 

“Okay. I can’t. Okay.” Pinching my nose, I draw in a breath. Then sputter into laughter. 

It wasn’t that funny, but I couldn’t help myself. Maybe I really am going mental. 

“I’ll just wait till you’re done,” Connie grumbles, but even in the dark the ghost of a smile can be seen. 

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

We start walking again a bit after — Connie’s afraid my laughing attracted ghosts.

“So, Ostrich. You’re starting to remember?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you remember me?”

“No.”

We walk for a bit more before he speaks again. “Tell me something about yourself.”

“You’re asking me, Shiganshina’s resident amnesiac?”

“Funny. You don’t need memories to have a personality, you know? You’re not a ghost.”

The air smells familiar. “You think so?”

“How about you caress my handsome face and we can both find out?”

I flick his forehead and go cold. 

Did I just do that? 

But he just claps his hand over the point of impact. “Ow! Always the head!”

“Just such a big target,” I nearly sputter. “You’re lucky I don’t call human resources on you or something.”

“Yeah, whatever. Come on, tell me. There’s gotta be something.”

“I really have nothing, Connie,” I say. “But aren’t you the one who knows me so well? Why don’t you tell me something about myself?”

His thinking cap is on. “Well, for starters, you can’t walk straight with a damn.” 

“Strike four, Connie.” 

“Four? You’re already counting the number of times I pissed you off.” He sniffs. “I knew you cared. I can’t wait till we’re all together again…” He giggles like a little girl. 

“That laugh. I don’t like that sound.”

“Relax, Ossie. I’m gonna make it happen.” He thumps his chest. “From now on, I’m gonna focus on getting you out of here. Before bedtime.” 

“Weren’t you the one begging for help earlier?”

“I’m a changed man, I’ve grown.”

It’s a little scary to get so chummy with him so quickly, even if we do supposedly know each other. Always is the small nagging organ in my body releasing its small nagging liquids, telling me to stop, that he hates me, that I’m completely embarrassing myself because this guy is fake or a ghost or clinically insane. Maybe he is. Maybe I’m embarrassing myself. Maybe I’m embarrassing him. 

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

Has it been ten minutes? An hour? It’s like the inside of this wall bends space and time. Einstein would cry.

Light in hand, Connie slows to walk beside me. “Do you remember Covid?”

“Of course! I’d always keep the tracker tab open because of how paranoid I was. I…”

All I see is white. “Holy crap, did you just remember something?”

My hand can’t block out the light. “Put that down.” 

“Think, Ostrich! Think!”

The memory is fleeting, only a wisp of the past unlucky enough to be snuffed up by me. “I’m trying!”

“Harder!”

“Please, Connie, put that away.”

“Oh.”

And with a snap, it vanishes. 

“Did you remember it?”

Blinking doesn’t get rid of the dark blotches. “No.”

“Aw, man.” He hurries to catch up to me. “But you did just remember something, right?”

“I think so.”

“Oh.”

Shuff. Shuf. Shuff…  If I’m not careful, I might blow a hole in these slipper socks. 

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it.”

No response.

“Connie? It’s alright.”

He mumbles.

Seeing him dejected like this feels wrong. “Um, you haven’t told me something about yourself, Connie.”

“I’m just a guy, Ossie, and I made you lose your only memory.”

This boy. “Connie, it’s fine. Really. I have lots of time to remember things.” 

He kicks the ground. “I know, but…”

“It’s just like you said.” Desperately, I try to remember. “It doesn’t matter if I can’t remember anything, because I’m still my own person. Right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“Tell me something about yourself,” I repeat.

He rubs his hands against each other— “Well…” —and begins to pick up steam. “So, last week we raided this beauty shop, right? And J-boy said I was stupid for doing that, and I called him a horse face, so he threw a cream tube at me. I caught it like this, right—” his arms twist in a weird way as he reenacts the scene— “and it turned out to be a hand cream. I’ve been using it ever since, and frankly, I think he’s jealous.” 

“Hand cream? Is that why your hands are so soft?”

“So you’ve noticed? Ha! I can’t wait to tell him. We gotta get back!” His pace picks up. “I’ll even let you try some, Ossie, because you’re such a good friend.” 

I just met you, but I’m glad you’re happy again. “That means a lot to me.”

“Hold this.” He suddenly stops and shoves the light. “Back up, I’m gonna do something.”

“Something…?” I step away.

Connie squats, swings forth his hands, and leaps backwards. 

I watch as he smashes his feet through the wall, slapping the cold, hard ground with his skull. 

Blap.

“Connie?”

The light reflects innumerable dust motes and the eerily still victim of fatuity. Suddenly, the dark seems a little more alive. “Connie!” His head lolls when I cuff his shoulders. “Are you okay?” Blood trickles from his nostril. “Okay, dumb question.” 

He still has a pulse — but for how long is a mystery. 

Oh shit. This is real. 

I haul him around so his head is near the hole and try shoving him out by pushing up on his ribcage. Warm and squishy… just like that zombie. My arms go a little numb as I take a quick look — first forward, then back. Dust. 

I need to focus. 

Scarce light pours in through the hole as I push — now his shoulders are out. Tiny shards of the wall crumble over his chest. Tiny, dark red shards. 

Plaster bricks. 

“Oh my god! Connie?” The ground vibrates — someone is running over from the other side. 

By some miracle of god (or Connie’s hidden genius), we’re right where we’re supposed to be.

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

gosh this chapter was clunky. (it gets worse.) for the record it was rewritten at least 5 times in every pov and tense and i've since grown tired of it. do you trust your author when they tell you that the next chapters will be better? do you? (don't)

i hope you liked it and all. i know you cant expect shakespeare on ao3tumblr but i keep thinking 'gotta be perfect gotta be perfect!' please lmk if i did anything wrong or something can be improved on. i try to get better.

please take care of yourselves

final notes: mc gets better

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 2 - little sproutling

[theintrovertbean]

Summary: A tale of a Countess who lost her memories, and a magician who remembers more than their heart can bear.

-

My OC, Dara, is trans and non-binary. They use they/them pronouns. They were AFAB, but now they have a pp and a more masculine appearance. It's not relevant yet, but later it will be because I love smut.

Unlike in the original Arcana storyline, Dara didn't die of the plague. They are alive and (more or less) well. You will find out everything else from the story itself.

It's gonna be angsty. I'm coming for your hearts.

My fanfiction writing skills are a bit rusty because I haven't written any in years, so bear with me and forgive me if it's shit. It's gonna be a full series. Enjoy!

Word count: ~1400

Wounds of Magic, Scars of Love (Nadia x Dara)

Asra was gone.

Well, at least for the time being. It was usual for him to leave at the darkest hour of the night, but regardless of when and how he left, it always left a slight ache in Dara’s heart. The plague brought them closer, but even after over a decade of knowing each other, one of them always had to leave.

But they came back. Every single time, they would find themselves in the same old magic shop in Vesuvia, dwelling over the past and their mistakes.

And of mistakes, Dara certainly had a lot. But there was one, one that would haunt the magician to their grave. 

Dara has lived and Dara has loved, but never as freely as they wished, for their life had always been bound by what they were allowed and what they were not allowed to do. 

And loving Nadia Satrinava was definitely something they never should have done.

The mysteriousness of the dark, foggy night stirred up a melancholic feeling in Dara’s heart. They always drank red wine because white reminded them of Nadia and whenever they thought of Nadia, which was almost all the time, they felt pain that words could not describe.

And yet, in the haze of that bitter ache, there was also a feeling that shined bright like the last visible star among the clouds of the Vesuvian night. 

Maybe if I had spoken the truth…

But they did not. They kept it to themselves like a lying snake and the guilt of what they did will always be in the back of their mind, reminding them of their sin like a curse. 

So Dara raised their glass. A bit of wine never hurt anyone and after tending to the shop all they, they could indulge themselves in a few sips of alcohol, desperately hoping that it might ease the pain.

And as Dara brewed the last potions for tomorrow, they heard a knock on their door. It was not the most unusual of things as people often seek them out at night to ask for their help. Dara wondered what it was going to be this time. Maybe someone cut off their leg again? Perhaps someone’s grandmother died and they were hoping that a talented magician might be able to bring her back. The endless possibilities. Nothing would surprise Dara anymore.

Except one thing.

With a deep sigh, they rose from their seat and made their way toward the door. The stranger knocked again, more urgently this time and much to the magician’s annoyance. 

Why can’t you just wait a moment? 

Surely, it was not that difficult to spare some patience for the tired and overworked magician. Especially at this hour.

But the stranger persisted, sharply knocking again just as Dara reached out to open it. 

And without wasting even a moment, the person stepped in, storming past the magician as soon as there was enough space for her to enter. She said nothing, she just stood in the middle of the room, her eyes searching for something as if she was seeing the shop for the first time.

She had her back to them, but Dara could recognize her anywhere. “Nadia?” Her name unwillingly slipped past their lips and Dara almost cursed at themselves for allowing it. The Countess turned to face them with a look of surprise on her face. “Why are you here?” Dara asked in a voice barely more audible than a whisper. There was pain in their words, years of hurt and desperation. 

“You must read the cards for me.” She was panting slightly, the magician could hear it. She must have come here in a hurry.

Then the door slammed. “No,” Dara said firmly, causing Nadia’s shoulders to jump and then she turned around. There was fear in her eyes, although Dara did not mean to cause it on purpose. But they would not allow this behavior. Not even to her. “I won’t just let you act like nothing happened. Won’t you say anything? You can’t pretend that we were nothing.” 

Vesuvia whispered. It always has, that was just how the nature of the city was. She whispered that during the plague when even the air smelled of ashes and death, a Countess and her magician hid their affair under the black cloak of the night. 

But there was no affair. Dara often wished there was because maybe then they would have fewer regrets. The people said that Nadia and Dara were lovers, but that was not true. If it was, then Dara would have had one less accusation to feel bad about.

It was, however not baseless. 

The Countess looked away in embarrassment. “I would rather discuss this later. I am here regarding another matter.” She told them, avoiding the subject.

“But if it wasn’t for the other matter, we would never talk about what happened in the first place.” The Countess opened her mouth to say something then she closed it, remaining silent. “So?” Followed by her gaze, Dara asked while walking back to the counter, clearly angered and hurt by the Countess’ presence. “What do you want?” 

“Forgive me for the hour, but I will not suffer another sleepless night.” She unwinded her shawl, a rather poor attempt at disguising herself, and despite every fiber of their being screaming at them not to, Dara still found her just as beautiful as on the tragic night of the last Masquerade. “Please, you must read the cards for me.”

Dara reached for their glass and raised it for the second time that night. They swallowed and then spoke to her. “I heard you the first time and I will not do such thing. If you want a reading, you have to find someone more willing.”

“Then hear my proposal. That is all I ask. I require very little of you.” It’s not little if it requires being in your presence. And being in Nadia Satrinava’s presence felt like a thousand knives were turning in their soul. “Come to the palace and be my guest for a while. You will be afforded every luxury, of course, and I will pay you quite handsomely. I only ask…”

“Keep the money.” Dara interrupted her, making Nadia stare at them with her mouth slightly open for a moment. “It’s not money that I’m after.” 

“Then what is it you want? Surely, you would expect some kind of payment for your troubles.”

“You should invest the money in fixing the damage your husband did. I require nothing.”

Nadia only looked at them and then she nodded. “Then I suppose I shall find another way to reward you.”

“I see you don’t understand. I want nothing from Your Excellency.” But that was not true, not in the slightest. From the corner of their eye, the magician glanced at the Countess. If she asked, would they still do anything for her? Would they leave everything behind for even a moment of blissfulness with her?

Yes. Yes, I would.

But Nadia did not protest. She should and in the past, she would have, so why not now? Maybe things were not the same anymore. “Thank you for not turning me away. I understand you have some…grievances. You pique my interest.” Her last sentence makes the magician raise an eyebrow in curiosity. 

But tonight, there was nothing else left for them to say. Or at least Dara was not sure if their heart would be able to take it.

Nadia cleared her throat and her attention shifted toward the door and then back. 

Oh? She was expecting Dara to open the door for her, but after tonight she should know better. Dara took one long sip from their glass before settling it down on the glass top of the counter. And with probably more bravery than all of Vesuvia had, Dara stared directly into Nadia’s eyes, their gaze cold and determined, but also lost and still grieving the loss of something they never had. 

The Countess sighed, disappointed in the treatment Dara was giving her. She could easily order them to behave and Dara would not have been surprised if she said that their services were not needed anymore. But no. Nadia did not take it back. Nadia still wanted to have them. “I will see you tomorrow, then, at the palace. Rest well.” And with that, she walked out of the magic shop, leaving only the ghost of her presence and a reopened scar behind.

[xelasrecords]

In the Dead of Night, You Bring Me Back Alive

Han Jumin x Reader

What if you're not insecure about attending the high society parties that being in Jumin's life entails? What if instead of floundering at a public event and waiting for a rich man to rescue you, you could stand on your own?

Featuring an after-party scene where you and Jumin share quiet meandering conversations and find peace in them. Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.

Words: 3.8k

Masterlist Read on AO3

-

Your words always wielded power. It was one of the reasons Jumin was intrigued by you. While he was a figure who commanded respect through his presence and status, you were someone with an air of quiet confidence. It was the kind of subtlety that people tended to overlook, but impossible to unsee once they saw it. Jumin might stand tall in front of everyone, his confidence formidable and magnetic, compelling the whole room to focus their attention on him, but one word from you would bring him to his knees.

Not that he minded.

He knew what kind of hold you had over him and would give in to you without a second thought. You were the person he loved. You were the person he admired. You were the person who knew the exact things to say to stimulate both the intellectual and sentimental parts of his brain that no other person could, except for Jihyun. If it weren't for social constructs, Jumin would gladly roll out a red carpet wherever you went and worship the ground you walked on.

Elizabeth the 3rd was treated like a princess. You, a human whom he cherished above all the fortune he possessed, should receive a treatment fit for a queen. Racking his brain for more things to give and do for you was his daily routine.

Tonight, both of you were inebriated from the numerous glasses of alcohol—champagne for you, wine for him—swiped from the corporate gala tonight, you considerably more so than him. With your red heels strewn out on the polished marble floor, the strap lacing trailing behind and stray confetti stuck on the sole of the right stiletto, you left them as they were while you slumped against the side of the white sofa. It had been a long night, and the back of your feet was throbbing. Elizabeth the 3rd was nowhere to be seen, but she was most likely asleep in her bed of posh design and hand-carved frame.

Jumin had crashed on the floor alongside you when your knees buckled from exhaustion. You had entered the penthouse together, his arm around your waist, steadying you as you snickered at things incomprehensible to anyone but you. You waved languidly at the bodyguard posted outside the door while Jumin gave him a brisk nod.

How the bodyguard didn't appear weary at this ungodly hour was beyond you. You grinned at him and threw a hearty good night! before you went in. If there was anything you knew from being with Jumin, it was that everyone could use a little bit of kindness. The irony of maintaining a stoic, emotionless mask was more taxing than living freely was not lost on you.

In your drunken haze, you registered that Jumin had put away his dress shoes and transferred your clutch onto the glass coffee table, a preventive measure to keep you from tripping over them. It wouldn't be the first time you made a fool out of yourself by having poor muscle coordination. The mistakes just had never been made public and you intended to keep it that way. For Jumin, he only wished to keep you from sustaining more injuries.

During the gala, Jumin had noticed the raw chafed skin on your ankles when you made rounds and exchanged amicable banter with the people you had learned only hours before, courtesy of the guest list Jaehee had put together. However impressed Jumin was with you, he couldn't stay still after catching glimpses of you wincing when you thought nobody was watching. Immediately, he requested Driver Kim to retrieve a medical kit.

But despite the pain you were enduring, you glimmered. Your gold sequin dress swirled around your figure as you conversed with other guests, making polite enquiries and occasionally tilting your head back in laughter when the topic entertained you. You had the talent of making your conversation partner felt important and welcomed, like everything they said was interesting and worth your time. You were an attentive listener and an even more suave speaker.

Jumin knew this easy-going character was a front you put up to support him. Although he had reminded you that you needn't play the part of a charmer to boost his image and win him more contracts, you couldn't be dissuaded. The last things you wanted were to stumble and fail spectacularly in front of a respected crowd and tarnish Jumin's reputation. If Jumin had done this his whole life, the least you could do was to understand his ways of survival.

Besides, there was a part of you that found this amusing. It was new and different, and you always welcomed a challenge. And who was to say this was not the real you? You were an amalgamation of everything you wanted to do and everything you had done, and this was one of them. As much of a charade as it was, it was also moulding your personality into something with more depth and complexity. Truthfully, you were tired of always being the same person you were before you met Jumin. You needed a change.

Even if you were not yet as well-versed as Jumin, you were determined to carry yourself with elegance and your head held high. The two of you were a sight to behold. He possessed an assertive demeanour that led him from one person to another with definitive strides, while you lured people in with the unique flair that belonged to you alone. Together, you were a force impossible to break. Everyone knew you had each other's back without making an ostentatious display about it. No one would dare to touch you.

Albeit you had spent the evening largely separated from Jumin, there were times when you would search for the one familiar face in the room that you loved, only to find him already looking at you. Stealing glances amidst the faceless crowd was a game you liked to play. Whenever he caught your eyes, his stern expression would soften, a soft, genuine smile that was exclusive to you would grace his lips, and his shoulders would lose their tension.

A few seconds would pass before he assumed the original stance with his conversation partner. But during that short time, the faces around you would blur and the mindless prattle would fade into the background. It felt as if you and Jumin had entered a peaceful bubble invisible to outsiders, and you could finally breathe. Even when you were not physically attached to his side, Jumin had brought you all that was safe and sound. That few seconds were all you needed to power through the evening. You knew it was also the case for Jumin.

Beneath the opulent crystal chandelier and melodious tune of live jazz, you weren't nervous about navigating the crowd alone. Although you were not the most outgoing person alive—it was exhausting to speak after dabbling in small talks with five people—you were glad that Jumin trusted you enough to handle your part alone. In the beginning, he used to fuss over every little thing, worrying that attending these parties would bring discomfort to you. He reassured you that if you ever needed help, you could signal him and he would come right by your side.

Of course, you knew he would stay true to his word, but you wanted to be capable. If you had to live in this corporate world that Jumin had introduced you to, you would have to adapt and hone your skills. You didn't want to hide behind his protection. Yes, it would be easier if you simply passed all the problems to Jumin and let him handle them, but you also loved yourself, and that meant fortifying yourself enough so that you could hold your own in the face of the public.

Jumin adored the fire in you.

Once he realised you were never going to relent, he offered personal tips and helped you practice as you eased into his world, all of which you gratefully received and implemented. It was unrealistic to sit back and hope for the best when it was only a matter of time before the media criticised you for being a gold digger disguised as an unfortunate damsel. Malicious rumours had begun to circulate the moment your dating news was made public, and it would continue to escalate unless you did something. You had to take control of the narrative before they could define you.

At the present moment, the ghost of the raucous chatter fell away as you felt Jumin's cold fingers wrapped around your ankle and carefully rested it on his crossed legs. "Don't move, darling," he chided. "Your feet are bleeding. Allow me to clean your wounds."

The penthouse was quiet and you were safe. You could let down your shield now.

The only light switched on was in the hallway by the front door. It poured into the living room, its yellow gleam illuminated Jumin's concerned face. The sight of him in his three-piece formal suit while gently dabbing rubbing alcohol on your injury was a pleasant thing to see. Even after a long night, he still looked put together, not a hair out of place.

You didn’t even complain about those heels during the ride home, yet he noticed. You felt love, so much love. "I feel like I am consumed by love. It's like love is coursing through my veins and exploding with fireworks inside." You let out a worn-out giggle. "If you cut me open and study my organs, I bet you could see how much I love you. I bet there would be a whole fiesta going on in my bloodstream and muscle tissues."

Jumin gave you an amused look before plastering a bandage on your ankle. "I do not have to witness you spilling your internal organs to feel your love." He put down your leg and lifted the other onto his lap. "The things you say, truly."

You relished in his tender touch, feeling its cold against your warm skin, running from your exposed calf up to your thigh where the slit of your dress fell off, a golden rumpled sea of glitter around you. "But imagine tiny cells wearing party hats running around inside me. How absurd!"

"Now, where did you get this idea from?"

"The tiny cells just announced it with trumpets and drums in my brain."

"God." Jumin shook his head, but not without good humour.

"Am I scaring you away? Do you fear my"—you let out a dramatic gasp—"unbidden thoughts?"

"I fear for the people who mean you harm. You, however, are still as mesmerising as ever," he said, his striking grey eyes studying your face. "You were captivating tonight. I had to fight off the physical urge to make you the sole focus of my attention. It is so easy to forget about everyone else when you are there." Jumin had finished bandaging your left foot and placed both your legs on top of his, running his fingers up and down across yours.

Shivers crawled up your spine. "So were you. You have the same effect on me."

"You were the highlight of the party. Have you any idea how many compliments I received on how seamlessly you fit into this society? People had been waiting for your downfall, but you put yourself above everyone instead." Jumin smiled at you. "And you didn't even have to try."

"What can I say? I'm a natural charmer."

"And very humble too."

You closed your eyes, a wan smile painted on your lips. The alcohol was catching up to you, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. "No, actually, it was the opposite. I tried very hard." You sighed. "I wasn't always this polished before I took your advice."

"I must be frank with you. I don't think you need all those extra lessons. You have always been excellent at being yourself." You weren't looking at him, but his voice alone spoke of total adoration.

You had never been on the receiving end of such affection. How fortunate you were to cross paths with him, to be loved by him. He had never given you any reason to doubt him and had always treated you well from the moment you met. You were not a believer in fate, but you believed in him.

You flailed your arms at him, motioning him to sit beside you. You yearned to feel the warmth from his body. "How about you? How well do you think you are at being Han Jumin?"

He put your legs down and obliged, shifting to your side, your shoulders nudging each other. There was a stretched silence as he pondered your question. You rested your chin on your tucked knees and gazed up at him.

"There are two Han Jumins in the world—or are there three? The first one is what I present to the public. The second is a mixture of the dutiful son and the loyal friend. The third one is the man I am with you."

The wine must have also brought out the pensive side of him. You had half-expected him to bludgeon your question with his usual brand of self-assurance, listing out his achievements and strengths. You preferred this vulnerable honesty, however rare it was, over the stoic image he put on in front of people.

"I like all versions of you," you said, offering him your own honesty.

"It's unfortunate that I have to create multiple personas to meet everyone's expectations." Jumin craned his neck down to look at you. "There are times I fear that I might lose myself if I play a certain part for too long, but this fear is a paradox in itself."

"A paradox?"

"Which persona is my true self? Have I split myself into too many pieces that they've become indiscernible? If I can't tell which piece is real, then who am I masquerading as this whole time?" He took a deep breath. "Who am I, if I couldn't be put back together?"

"This vulnerable Jumin seems pretty real and whole to me." You took his hand into yours, massaging his palm. "But don't you think it's normal to don multiple masks to survive? I'm not saying we have to be fake, but that's how humans navigate life."

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you're getting at."

"See, I am more reserved and polite in front of strangers. I'm careful not to offend people and filter which things to say. But with the RFA, I can be more relaxed and let go of myself. And with you, well, I have no qualms about saying anything that comes to my mind."

"I can attest to that." Jumin chuckled. "But if politeness is a charade, then can we really be genuine in treating people?" You cocked your head to one side. "You may recall that I am trying to be more considerate with my employees."

You scoffed. "I am positively drunk, Jumin. My memory is impaired." You knocked on your temple in quick succession with your knuckle and yelped. Your head instantly felt heavy and your vision spun.

At no time, Jumin was already checking and caressing your head. "Be careful, love. Are you all right?"

You waved it away. "It will pass." You let him continue to card his fingers through your hair. It was therapeutic; every touch from him was. Recalling his musing earlier, you shared your thought, "Even if the act of being polite is a faux gesture—which I don't think it is—doesn't the feelings of the receiving party matter more?"

"Do elaborate."

"When you're polite to someone, you extend your respect to them. You treat them like a decent human being. It feels good to be treated well, you know." Lowering his hand from your head, you slung his arm around your shoulders and leaned against him. "I know you are indifferent towards niceties because people tend to only be nice to you out of fear or greed, but please hear me out before you debate me on this."

"I am listening to you." Jumin rubbed your arm, giving you a reassuring squeeze. "My experience doesn't cancel out yours, and I'm interested in what you want to say."

You rested your head against his chest, vertigo already subsiding. "I remember when a salesperson tended to me with patience and smiles even when I asked a lot of questions. I felt sorry for that, but it made my experience better than if I had to face a rude person who looks down at me for my ignorance."

"And that improved your feelings."

"You know how when you're having a bad day, everything becomes a chore?" You tucked in a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Standing underneath the shower is tiring. Making your bed is almost impossible. Talking with people at work makes you feel like you're drowning further in the mess that is you. Nothing can be smoothed out. Everything is creased."

"I have my maid to tidy up my bed, but I understand the sentiment," Jumin said in all seriousness.

"Well, I was having a bad day, but those three minutes of friendly exchange, even when they were out of obligation, had lifted my mood for three minutes. I had this thought, 'Ah, that wasn't too bad. Maybe I shouldn't shun this life just yet.' Then, my day became a little more bearable."

Jumin placed a kiss on your forehead and murmured, "I would like to meet this person and thank them."

"It was a long time ago, so I can't remember who it was. I remember how it made me feel though, so I reckon politeness has more worth than being a superficial act."

Jumin squeezed your hand three times. You had shown him an article about the gesture, informing him that it meant I love you. Since then, the two of you had made it into a habit to do so. "Your observations never cease to amaze me. I love this about you." He was also in the habit of proclaiming his love for you every now and then. "You bring your thoughtfulness wherever you go, that even if you wear thousands of masks, you wouldn't be in danger of losing yourself."

"I didn't know that's how you see me."

"It is. You are so grounded in you that it unnerves me to realise what it says about me."

"What does it say about you?" you asked softly.

"That I am not as connected to myself as I had thought." From the way you were practically lying on him, you could feel his chest rise and fall. "I know who I am. I know my likes and dislikes, my strengths and weaknesses. But knowing things aren't the same as owning them."

"Because they don't feel like they are part of you?"

"I don't know if they are true to my character. I slip on new faces quite easily," Jumin went on. "You know how I used to deal with contracts."

You remembered what Jaehee said aeons ago when you just joined the association. Jumin was a businessman who used his good looks to hook potential business partners into signing contracts with him, especially women who clambered onto him without the slightest shred of dignity, only to quit cold turkey on them once the contract was over.

It wasn't the most morally correct thing to do, but you also thought it was an apt response to people who merely wanted to take advantage of his wealth. "It's a necessity for you. If you have the leverage, why not use it?"

"You seem to contradict yourself," Jumin said. "This competitive edge had left many women heartbroken, as I recall."

"Maybe I just feel inclined to defend you and put your happiness first." You shrugged. "And once again, I am drunk."

"You are running out of chances to use the drunk card."

You hummed while tracing the buttons on his white dress shirt. "How many chances do I have left?"

"One."

At this, you straightened up and swivelled your body to face him. "What kind of rule is that?"

"My rule. I can do anything I want if it contributes to my happiness, as you very kindly declared." Jumin smirked.

Your brain was too muddled to come up with a counter-argument, so you merely huffed and sat back in silence. Jumin picked up the skirt of your dress that had bunched up between you two, rolling the sequins from one finger to another. The only sound wafting through this nearly dark penthouse was the crinkle of the gold coins embedded on your dress.

You wished every night was like this. Being together in peace, talking about things you would barely remember the next day. The dim yellow light cast long shadows beneath the outline of your figures, and you knew that this moment would stay forever bursting technicolour in your mind.

"You're judging yourself too harshly," you said after a while. "You just started discovering your emotions and learning how to dissect these layers that you had long buried. It's not fair to yourself if you expect an immediate result by using my progress as your benchmark. Not when I've been in touch with my inner self for longer than you have."

"Except I'm usually a fast learner."

"Usually." You bumped his leg with your toes. "It's about time you're not the best at something."

To your surprise, Jumin laughed at your statement. It was a crisp, freeing laugh that you had never heard before. You jumped at the sound, but it only made him laugh harder. His voice sent tremors down the hollow of your bones. Then suddenly, you also cackled, imagining all the bones in your body quivering because of him. What a ridiculous thought! But how funny!

Soon enough, none of you could stop the fits of laughter. You, doubling over with a hand on your stomach, the curtain of your hair streaking over your already blurred eyesight. Jumin, shoulders shaking from trying and failing to stop, one arm rounding your body, the other straightened out, hand clenching at his thigh.

Nothing made sense, but nothing had to.

Years later, after you and Jumin had moved out of the penthouse for a place that you owned together, this was what you would remember: in the dead of night, two souls were alive with giddy lightness, as bubbly as the champagne you had downed, as intimate as the mutual understanding you had shared. In your long span of life to come, this was the memory you liked to come back to. This one evening with him might be brief, but it made your life more bearable.

That was the only thing that mattered.

-

Buy me a glass of something that's definitely not coffee because I can't stand it but it is the website's name if my story touches you in some way? No worries if you don't. I'm still grateful you've read all the way through here.

[psychic-refugee]

For @akekla

Request: "Hi, please write a fanfic of wenvier, where Wednesday is a circus artist, and Xavier is a spectator in love."

This might be nowhere near what you wanted, but I hope you like it anyway.

It was called the Midnight Menagerie. A circus that came to Jericho and it was the talk of the town.

No one knew where it came from, or even saw it set up. It simply appeared one night, already fully lit with its fairy lights, torches, and haunting music that played as people gathered to see the spectacles.

Xavier could not describe the circus, other than walking into a waking dream. Everything felt hazy, but sensuous. The circus was only open at midnight, when children would be asleep for hours.

It drew the curious, as very few things ever happened in their little coastal town.

They stayed for the acrobatic show.

It was nothing like Xavier had ever seen. He didn’t think the human body could move as fast or in as many ways as the performers did for the Midnight Menagerie.

They flew through the air, all while wearing Venetian masks that hid their face instead of traditional circus make up.

Their costumes hugged every dip, curve, and muscle, leaving very little to the imagination.

Their most popular acts were Enid and Ajax.

Enid’s specialty was the aerial silks and rope. Her grace in the face of death-defying heights, relying on silk or rope had the audience saying small prayers for her safety while unable to look away.

Ajax jumped and flipped through the Wheel of Death, a metal apparatus that spun in circles with two circular cages on each end. The crowd would gasp and thought for certain that each jump would be his last.

Xavier’s favorite part was The Narrator. A woman of dark, ethereal beauty whose raspy voice spun a tale that left him mesmerized and enchanted. She was the only one without a mask, but wore a flowy red dress and wide brim hat. It all added to her mysterious beauty, and he wished he had the nerve to approach her.

Each act was part of a surreal tale that felt more like a disjointed dream than a story.

The circus only offered one snack for its patrons, a small cake of black and red frosting that had a distinct floral taste that Xavier could not name. Every care went away after he took a bite, and he found himself in a fog of pleasure that he would keep chasing night after night.

After the last act, there were always a group of customers that would be invited backstage to meet the performers.

Everyone wanted to be chosen, but very few were.

None seemed to notice that those who were chosen the night before, were not seen again.

No one could resist the allure of the Midnight Menagerie, and so they kept coming and coming, enjoying the show, and eating small cakes.

There was one night when he caught the eye of The Narrator, black pools of obsidian and a half smile had him promising any deity that was listening that he would give anything to meet her.

Still, whatever made the chosen special, he did not have. He came back every night anyway.

The crowd was getting smaller and smaller. No one noticed except Xavier. He did not care.

Since she had noticed him, she had sought him out with her eyes as she told her tale. Her half smile seemed to be reserved just for him. He wanted to meet her, but he was never chosen.

Until one night, and the crowd was maybe a handful of people which was all that was left of the population of Jericho, he was finally chosen by a beautiful woman with dark skin and turquoise eyes. Her voice felt like silk, and if he wasn’t so eager to meet The Narrator, he just might have come under the Siren’s spell.

The back tent was luxurious, filled with large pillows the size of beds along the floor and even more of the cakes were freely given on small tables. He helped himself to one, and the world was a pleasant haze.

As he walked through the tent, which seemed much larger on the inside than the outside would suggest, he passed many couples in varying states of undress and in passionate embraces.

He was seated on one of the plush pillows, he absently saw across from him Tyler Galpin, the Sheriff’s son, between Enid and Ajax. Although they had all been masked before, he could recognize them from her blonde hair tinged pink and blue at the ends, and Ajax’s glorious mane of dark hair.

Tyler was all but naked between the two, Enid nipped at his chest and Ajax taking harsh kisses with tongue and teeth.

Xavier normally hated Tyler who was a lifelong bully that extended into adulthood, but that night he couldn’t be bothered. He also would have blushed at such a scene, unused to such public displays of carnality.

Instead, he merely waited patiently until he could see The Narrator.

In his haze, he did catch the eye of Enid who gave him a playful wink.

It totally unfazed him when fangs dropped from her mouth, and Ajax’s eyes turned a serpentine green.

Tyler was too blissed out to notice as well, he even smiled as they both descended upon either side of his neck and pierced his skin. He sighed in ecstasy as they drained him of all blood, his eyes never losing their unfocused haze as the light went out of them.

Xavier wasn’t sure if he should be happy or very worried at his rivals demise, so he simply kept looking.

The Siren cupped his jaw gently so that he would look into her gem like eyes. She leaned in close and was confused when he had back away from her impending kiss. Despite the haze of the small cakes, she wasn’t the one he wanted.

Before Bianca could voice any confusion or offer more cake, she was harshly grabbed by her shoulder and lifted up as if she weighed nothing.

“I told you, this one is mine,” The Narrator said softly, which in turn sent a shiver of fear through the other woman.

“Of course,” Bianca conceded as if it were a simple mistake. She walked away and found another meal for the night.  

The Narrator offered her hand, and he eagerly took it, standing up and following her further into the tent.

They passed by a curtain of black and white beads, and suddenly he was in a grand Victorian bedroom, with a great ebony canopy bed that dominated the room. From the window he could see a graveyard under the moonlight, something whispered he was no longer in Jericho.

She tossed off her red hat, and a disembodied hand had jumped up to catch it and scurried to put it away.

Nothing seemed to bother him, as he only had eyes for her.

She sat at the edge of the bed and gently patted beside her, inviting him to join.

As he blinked, her dress went from blood red, to black and white.

He had never witnessed anything more lovely than she as he sat beside her.

As if reading his mind, she gave the first full smile he had seen from her, and her fangs glinted dangerously. She smiled even wider when he showed no fear, the lotus cakes still within his blood.

“We will be moving on soon, Jericho has no more to offer,” she told him softly as she caressed his hair. “Would you like to come with us?” she asked when he looked despondent at the thought.

“Yes,” he didn’t have anything to lose as he was not close with his father, and he could do art anywhere.

“Once you stay, you may never leave, you will forever be part of the Midnight Menagerie,” she warned.

Something in his heart told him she meant it and was not just being hyperbolic. Her eyes told the story of an ancient bloodline, a predator that had traveled and fed for millennia.

“Where you are is where I want to be,” he said firmly, then leaned down to kiss her.

Her kiss was a dark promise of eternity, her fangs nipping at his lips causing crimson pearls to well. She kissed him harder and drank of his sweet blood.

His blood smeared across his cheek as she peppered kisses along his jawline and made her way to his throat. He gasped as her fangs easily sank in and she pulled his life from him to her own. Before his heart stopped, she dragged a sharp nail across her bosom and pushed his lips to the wound.

He drank from her the gift of immortality, binding himself to her forever.

The next night, the Midnight Menagerie was gone and left no trace, none of the townspeople could even clearly recall if it was there at all. None had really noticed that so many had disappeared, and none reported it either.

The town of Jericho would eventually replace its lost population, and in several decades they may see the return of the mysterious circus.

Without lifting a finger, the entire circus was now in Hawkins, Indiana.

When Xavier awoke the next night, his moss green eyes took their own gemlike quality and saw a new world with his new eyes. He was ready for his first performance and first meal.

He would wear the mask of a Venetian jester and his act would be to shoot arrows of fire towards a woman named Yoko on a spinning target.  

The big tent was filled to capacity of spectators, all would feed well that night.

[tieflingtareon]

My love, are you the devil? (Oh, call me a devil)

Chapter 3 | Words: 2k

Summary: Astarion found himself often surprised by his heroic companion. He had one goal. To become the favoured companion of the group, to earn the Tieflings loyalty, to make Tar'eons strength his own. Yet Tar'eon isn't like the usual target of his manipulations. Despite his naivety, he does not seem gullible. There is something very wrong with their 'leader' to begin with. Astarion isn't sure if he wants to control it or eradicate the threat it posed. But can he really do either when Tar'eon himself seems so...unwaveringly kind?

That devil is getting into his head, while others get into Tar'eons. He doesn't appreciate not having the upperhand after years of being at the disadvantage. He will find a way to make him see.

He is the one he should be listening to. Astarion would make it so, no matter the means.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50668558/chapters/127995079

Karlach had much fussing to do over the bard, remarking on the flayed skin. Lae'zel simply remarked on missing the ritual, looking annoyed.

Shadowheart's help was yet again refused, so she huffed off to her tent, playing with her artefact like she did most nights. Astarion stalked back to his own tent to read, watching from a distance as Wyll sat by the fire with Tar'eon, the pair looking deep conversation.

Astarion wished to listen in, yet not, all at once. It was only as Wyll stood up that his superior hearing forced him to listen in.

"Just promise me you won't rely on such methods again to deal with these feelings. We're all stuck in this together. At the very least...you may always talk to me. I may understand more than you would realise." His hand was on Tar'eons shoulder, his eyes soft in the firelight, and Astarion couldn't help but scowl. He was digging his pompous claws further and further into Tar'eon while he simply sat here.

How long until he was the only one without Tar'eons loyalty? His freely given affection? How long until he was too much a burden to keep on the team? Wyll, the Blade, how long until he wriggled into Tar'eons mind, as infectious as the parasite, and convinced him Astartion was too much of a liability to the team, to him?

Tar'eon had given him a gift. Given him blood. And he had nothing to give in return. He had to get on equal footing with him, and quickly. He needed Tar'eon to trust him completely. Or Wyll would get in his head before he could.

"Thank you, Wyll." Tar'eon placed his hand on top of Wyll's and smiled, completely disarmed before the man. But Astarion noted that he did not promise anything. Wyll, he hadn't noticed at all, walking away to his tent.

Astarion slunk out from the shadows of his dark tent and took the spot beside Tar'eon on the bedroll. Closer than he needed to be, but he wanted Tar'eon to grow accustomed to it.

"That was quite a show. The ritual."

"You enjoyed it, I'm guessing?" Tar'eon mused.

"What can I say? I'm a vampire. I enjoy watching things bleed. I'm disappointed you made us camp in this dreary place instead of letting us continue." He put on a pout, but his mind had been itching all day with one question.

He shifted closer, chin upon his shoulder and head tilted so he could look up at the tiefling.

"Tell me...why did you kill those goblins?"

"The ones near the bridge, or the ones inside the sanctum?" Tar'eon tilted his head to match Astarion, watching him with curious eyes. Like he was trying to figure him out. Good. The more he thought about him, the better success rate of his ascension through the ranks of this party.

"Oh, I would have killed the ones near the bridge if you hadn't. Asking us to smear shit on our faces? The disrespect..." He sneered. "No, I mean the ones in the sanctum. Why did you kill them?"

His piercing red eyes grew with intensity, trying to worm the answer from the tiefling.

"And why won't you tell me what they said?"

Tar'eon looked uncomfortable, glancing away.

"...They insulted you. I don't appreciate others insulting my friends."

"That's- that's it? They insulted me?" Astarion looked at him, like he didn't believe him and was no longer amused by his fantastic lying skills.

"Yes."

"So...what? You'll cut down anyone who looks at me wrong?" Astarion scoffed with a laugh.

"Yes." It was said with such sincerity, that even Astarion had to believe it true. His lips parted in shock, unsure how to response as he leaned back from Tar'eon. He missed his heat almost instantly; the man ran like a furnace. But he couldn't fathom his answer.

Here he had been, so sure the man would need coaxing to protect him, yet he was stating his loyalty clearly. With no hesitation.

"...Well. I'm flattered. I hadn't realised I had enthralled you so easily." He chuckled, looking to the fire as to avoid in eyes. He could feel his gaze nonetheless though.

Tar'eon placed a hand on his shoulder and Astarion's first reaction was to bristle, to hiss, but then Tar'eon caught his narrowed eyes and he forced his expression to smooth, to soften, to seem more agreeable than he was at heart. Tar'eon lowered his hand to his lap and stared into his eyes a long moment, long enough to make Astarion feel self conscious. He wondered if perhaps he was reading his mind, sorting through it without his knowledge. How ironic it would be, to have it that Tar'eon could both lock him out yet traverse so freely through his thoughts.

His whole life had been defined by everyone else having the advantage, and him the disadvantage. He refused to not have the upperhand with this man.

"...If I do not have the conviction to protect you all, I'm afraid I may lose myself to...urges I cannot fathom."

"So you don't do this out of the goodness of your heart? Fighting alongside us?" He smirked. "You do it to...what? Keep your moral compass?"

"Can I not have more than one reason to want to protect you?"

"Us."

"You, also."

"Yes, but you're singling me out." He bit the words out, frustrated by the casualness of his declaration. "Why?"

"Because out of all of us...I feel you need my protection the most." He admitted, and Astarion felt anger rush up the back of his neck, hot and bothersome.

So he saw him as weak. Fine. Let him. As long as he pitied him, he would still be placed on a pedestal. He would still be above the others, would he not? He was Cazador's favourite, even if he made every day feel like the Hells. He could humiliate himself to survive. He'd done far worse in order to survive Cazador, after all. At least Tar'eon had no intent on flaying others, even if he subjecated himself to it.

"Well...I think I'll turn in. Maybe go for a late night snack beforehand. The goblins have chickens nearby, don't they?"

"I thought we agreed you wouldn't be hunting anymore." Tar'eon frowned. Astarion looked at him like he was stupid. Sometimes he wondered, but he was much too quick witted and persuasive to be.

"I'm afraid the dinner I planned on having go himself beaten, quite bloodily. Do you really think you could survive my hunger right now?" Astarion stood, his body outlined by the fire and his expression shadowed, by the glint of red eyes was enough for Tar'eon to know he was smirking. That low voice...

Astarion was goading him, wasn't he?

"I could certainly try."

Astarion shook his head and grinned.

"Your funeral." It could be, and Astarion found it amusing. He wouldn't kill him though. If he did, there was ways to bring him back. But he'd prefer not to waste something like that on something so trivial. "Lay back."

Tar'eon looked at him like he was the stupid one this time and Astarion was reminded of his ruined back. He rolled his eyes.

"Fine. On your front. Just don't be surprised if I decide to keep you there." He teased, but Tar'eon simply frowned, looking confused by his words before he laid down on his front with a soft groan.

...Good, Gods, was Tar'eon actually a maiden? Though, he had mentioned once that he has no memory of his past. Perhaps he wasn't, and simply couldn't remember. Though, wouldn't it be just as sweet? Deflowering a man who can't remember his first? In his mind, he'd still be the very first. It was very tempting.

He'd have to ask another time. For now...

He stared at the clean shirt. Karlach hadn't left him alone until he agreed to being bandaged up. Karlach herself couldn't do it, but she inspected closely as Wyll had done so.

He was clean of blood, but he could still smell it beneath the bandages. Even old, drying up and scabbing over...it smelt amazing. His mouth salivated and he dropped to his knees, straddling the hulking tieflings backside with an appreciative look, drinking it all in, figuratively this time.

He glanced off to the nearest tent, and found Lae'zel's tent to be locked up tight. She was down for the night it seemed. Perfect. Less eyes made him feel better about how he leered, leaning down to press his front to Tar'eons back.

The man hissed softly but didn't say anything. With their difference in build, it only made sense for Astarion to have every inch of himself pressed against him just to reach his neck.

Unlike the first time, Astarion lingered, inhaling deeply and revelling in his scent. Blood, sweat, and campfire smoke. There were more scents the closer he got to his skin, his nose brushing his hot neck, the shiver he enticed only rippling the scent of wood and parchment, of anticipation and something...dark. He couldn't put a name to the scent, but it was so thick it clogged his nose, like someone had made a blindness spell purely to block that sense instead.

He had to swallow hard and pulled back just a touch before he shook the effect of it off.

"What's wrong...?"

"Nothing, I..." How did he even explain it? He couldn't. So he didn't.

He leaned back in and licked his neck, tasting the salt of his sweat and relishing in the small sound of surprise. It almost sounded like a moan. He sunk his fangs into his neck and groaned at the burst of flavours across his tongue, the uncouth scent disappearing from his mind as he sunk into the feast before him.

Tar'eon trembled beneath him, soft gasps escaping his throat as Astarion grew frenzied, drinking deep and purposefully. He'd been containing himself since the night previous, and it seemed his intense desire to drink the tieflings blood did not go away in just a day.

Tar'eons hand reached back and grasped his thigh hard, his brows pinched tight. It hurt. It really did. It hurt, and his heart thumped wildly, and he...he felt sleepy when Astarion fed from him. The previous night, he'd dreamt of nothing. It had been a slice of heaven, to sleep through the night, even if he awoke dizzy and weakened.

Tar'eons grip grew lax as Astarion's greedy pulls dimmed down to languid licks and sucks, knowing he had to stop but not quite ready to truly let go of the taste. After the mess of the previous night, it seemed only fair to clean up after himself. It was simple etiquette.

Slowly, his lips left the puncture wound, even as it dribbled. He licked his lips, feeling stronger. He felt euphoric, again.

He could get used to this.

He made to tell Tar'eon exactly that, to perhaps use their position to his advantage and try just a touch of seduction, but...he was asleep.

His brows jumped up. Shit. Did he actually killed him?

He checked his pulse and while it was slower, more relaxed, it was still pumping. He hadn't killed him. He simply...fell asleep.

What kind of psychopath fell asleep while being drained by a vampire? Insanity...

Astarion found himself smiling regardless, tucking an dark strand behind the mans pointed ear before he slipped away to the bedroll opposite him, laying down and watching him breathe as the fire slowly died with time.

When the light died, Astarion finally closed his eyes. No point at looking at the man in shades of grey. Not when he knew how much better he looked in the light.

[koenki]

Round 3 Writings

After the complications of the last experiment, Cyril- took accountability. While he hasn't had it in him yet to see Roman himself after taking him to the medical wing, he did let Pip know that he was injured and where to find him. More worried than angry over what little the elf could reveal to them, Pip made sure to be at Roman's side. A bit of role reversal happens where Roman was asleep in the medical wing when they arrived, maybe passed out? It sounded serious, and from the extent of injuries, Pip could only imagine what happened. Sitting by his side until he woke up, they greeted him gently. They are aware from previous talks with Cyril and Roman they can't REALLY tell them what happened- seems to be a common thing here but they made sure the time jumper knew they were there to support him, much like he was for them, promising to offer entertainment if they could. I have varying ideas of how something like this could go. Roman enjoys Pip's company but putting on the fake smile and saying he is all right is harder as time goes on, slowly pulling away from them as they fall deeper into their own thoughts and worries. Or he does that to start, knowing the danger he could be in and potentially put them in, and in efforts of protecting them, tries to shut them out- but as stated many times before, Pip is quite persuasive, slowly making progress with Roman to stay close, showing him they aren't going to just leave him cause things get difficult- they're friends, right? Roman has been there during some of the most insane and scary moments in their life at this point, and they wish to offer the same level of care in return. Taking the hand of his good arm, they offer reassurance and stability.

Ever since the incident in the library, anytime Cyril and his academic rival would be there together they insisted on it- so long as the workload wasn't too heavy or serious of course. If it was possible to spare a hand, they would take his and happily continue writing whatever notes they needed for their next research topic. It was a welcome distraction for the elf but led to other thoughts and problems in his head he was too scared to voice. Whenever he seemed stuck in those thoughts though, they would squeeze his hand, pulling him out of it to glance over at the human who was still reading whatever book they were on in their elemental research. He didn't know just how much the other really knew about what was going on inside or if he was giving signs of distress, but Cyril appreciated the gesture and would give a small one in return before looking back to his own papers. When they were here together like this, it could put him at ease, just enjoying the quiet turning of pages or the scratching of pen on paper. When they aren't being shameless at the library, they walk closer together when around the institute or out to the café to get a caffeine fix or food that doesn't come in a wrapper. Going to Ellis' shop to be away from their peers prying eyes (and Cyril's sanity) just to talk freely without the weight of projects or other people on them. That isn't to say it was peaceful when he met up with his Papa for tea or lunch lately though, teasing him about making things official and having them come by to have dinner together sometime for all four of them. He's seen them around each other more and more lately and was relentless now in wanting to make sure his son lives a full and happy life. Red faced and frustrated with the topic still being brought up he thanked Reuban for the tea before leaving, grumbling to himself about how both of them are going to be his demise one day.

[e-louise-bates]

Wind and Wonder

Finished! I completed my story for the @inklings-challenge about five minutes ago. I really wasn't sure I was going to make it this year, but just like last year I managed to squeak in just before the deadline.

I was going to do a lot of explanation about the story, and why and how I chose the imagery I did, and the style, but I think instead I shall let the story stand for itself, and perhaps do a later post with more background detail.

So, without further ado ...

Wind and Wonder

The breeze didn’t come off the ocean, or down from the mountains, or ... well, no one could quite guess where it came from. It brushed past people’s ankles, tickled their noses, kissed their cheeks and hands. It whisked through downtown, and for a few moments the everyday bustle and bother stopped, people stood a little straighter, their eyes shone a little more brightly, and they breathed a little more freely.

Elderly people felt its caress and recaptured a glimpse of their lost youth. Young people felt it and lost their anxiety for a few, precious breaths. Babies laughed and clapped their hands as it playfully tugged their blankets in their strollers, and even ruthless businessmen, long hardened to anything that didn’t promise them more power and wealth, wished that they had spent their days pursuing the things that really mattered, after it brushed by them.

The breeze didn’t stay downtown. It wasn’t there for the businessmen, the babies, the youth, or the elderly, however delightful it was to wake them all up. It had a destination—or rather, two.

Amy and Jake Gardiner were about as ordinary a couple as anyone could hope to meet. They’d married when Amy was twenty-three and Jake twenty-five, started a family a few years after that, and had three children each two years apart. Jake was diligent at work, but rarely rose above what was asked of him. Amy served on the PTA and volunteered at church and ran the kids to all their various activities. Now their youngest—the only boy—had started college, and Amy and Jake were gradually becoming aware that maybe, just maybe, they were missing something crucial in life. But what?

Jake was proud of his years at his job, even if he hadn’t changed the world the way he thought he would when he first graduated college. He was proud of his kids, too, and had made them a priority from the start. He’d been to all of their dance recitals, baseball games, track meets, art shows, and piano recitals over the years, having vowed when they were young never to be one of those fathers who spent so much time working to give his family a good life that he was never there to enjoy it with them. He loved Amy too, of course, and was looking forward to spending more time with her once he was retired. Doing what together, he wasn’t exactly sure, but they’d figure it out when they got there.

It was only natural to feel a little flat with all of the kids out of the house, he told himself. It didn’t mean anything, not really. He certainly wasn’t going through any kind of a midlife crisis. He had no urge to go buy a sports car or climb Mt. Everest, for one thing. For another, he didn’t feel any particular loss over his youth. He just felt ... stale. That was all. No big deal.

Amy had no regrets over having given up her career at the start to be able to stay home with their kids. Sure, life had gotten a bit monotonous at times, only spending time with other moms and not having much of any life outside the kids, but it had been worth it. She’d thought about getting a part-time job once they were all in school, but then there were so many after-school activities and help with homework and keeping the house running—always so much laundry!—that it had never seemed like the right time. She was glad to have spent so much time with her family over the last twenty-five years. She had a great relationship with all her children, and she loved Jake and knew she was loved and valued by him.

So why was she so restless these days? Of course she’d known it was going to be hard to adjust from being a full-time mom to ... this, but she thought she had enough other things in life—volunteering at church, all those hobbies she’d never had time before to pursue—to keep from feeling quite so on edge. Only, the hobbies didn’t seem that interesting anymore, and she kept feeling that perhaps she ought to step back from some of her volunteer work to make room for others to serve, and overall, she simply couldn’t figure out what she wanted to be doing, much less what she should be doing.

They were out for a walk together on the trail that ran through the woods bordering their property. The kids had spent hours of their childhood playing in those woods, and Amy and Jake walked back there every Saturday morning the weather was good and they didn’t have a game or practice or birthday party to attend.

This morning the air was chill and damp, a sure sign that autumn was on its last legs and winter was almost here. Amy shivered. She hated this time of year, when the glory of color on the trees had passed but no snow had yet fallen, and everything was dreary and bleak. She thought about suggesting they return to the house for another cup of coffee, but she worried about Jake not getting enough exercise, sitting in his office all week, and she knew he needed these weekend strolls, so she kept her sigh to herself and determined to endure.

For his part, Jake would much rather have been inside with his coffee and the paper, but if he didn’t gently nudge Amy into walking now she would never get any exercise and then complain that her back and neck ached and she couldn’t figure out why. He knew what she was like!

Thus they were both outside when the breeze, fresh from its excursion downtown, found them at last.

It swirled around their feet first, sending up a shower of dead leaves from the cold, hard ground, and causing Amy to gasp in sudden delight as the leaves flashed with the color they had had three weeks ago, before rain and wind carried them from their trees.

Then it grew into a mighty gust, as though pleased with its efforts so far and wanting to stretch out even more, whooshing Amy’s hair back from her face and pulling Jake’s knitted hat right off his head and sending it soaring down the path just ahead of Jake’s grasping hand. The look of astonishment on Jake’s face as it flew past his fingers was so comical that Amy surprised both of them by bursting into a merry peal of laughter.

Jake might have been inclined to take offense, but instead he looked at his wife, with her hair all loose around her face, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling, her mouth and cheeks curved into a whole-hearted smile. When was the last time he had seen her like that?

He couldn’t remember, but he couldn’t find it in him to be anything but pleased that he could make her laugh, even if it was at his expense.

The breeze, perhaps satisfied with its work, seemingly relented and swooshed back toward them, dropping the hat back at Jake’s feet and kissing the tip of Amy’s nose before it whisked back to the mysterious place from which it had first come.

“Well,” said Jake, bending down to collect his hat and holding it awkwardly in his hands without replacing it on his head, “That was a bit of an adventure.”

“A small one, but an adventure all the same,” Amy acknowledged. She gazed off across the trees, seeing in her mind’s eye again that splendid sudden flash of gold, crimson, vivid red, and orange as the leaves swirled around her knees—and then dear Jake, lunging for his hat only to have it whisk past his fingertips, and the utter shock on his face over the minor mishap. How funny that something so small could bring such a deep surge of delight.

Without speaking any further to each other, they began their walk once more, only this time, instead of each secretly wishing they could be back home, cozy and comfortable, only out here for the sake of the other, they each found themselves looking for things they could point out to and share with the other—Amy, to try to give Jake that same moment of exquisite delight she had felt over the color-splashed leaves, and Jake, to try to bring that same delight back to Amy’s face.

Amy was the first to spot something—a flash of color up in the trees, followed by a familiar hammering sound.

“Look!” she said, hand grasping at Jake’s sleeve. “Look at that woodpecker, up there in the oak.”

It took Jake a few moments to follow the sound, but once he spotted it, they stood side-by-side, heads tilted upward, watching in silence until the woodpecker had gathered its fill from the top of the old tree and flown off in another burst of red, black, and white.

“Funny things,” Jake said. “All that hammering. As though, as though ...” he racked his brains to think of a comparison. “As though they were the dwarves of the bird world, only they mine in trees instead of underground.”

Amy laughed again, as he had hoped, and they walked on.

They meandered further than usual that day, more focused on looking and sharing than on their tired feet or cold ears. As they walked, they found they had begun talking about more than their usual chats.

Generally, during these walks, Amy would ask Jake about his week at work, and he would give her a vaguely pleasant report. Then he would ask her about her week, and she would respond in kind—mostly talking about the kids, when they had still been at home, these days focusing more on her volunteer work. Conversations over the dinner table or before bed tended to be similar.

Today, though, after the woodpecker, Jake found himself remembering how much he’d enjoyed bird watching with his grandpa when he was a young boy, and to his own surprise, he started telling Amy about those times, and how much they’d meant to him.

“It made me feel special, you know, like there was this secret only Grandpa and I shared that none of my cousins had. I’m sure he had other special things with them, but bird watching was just for us. Funny, I haven’t thought about that in years.”

Instead of responding with an immediate reference to their own kids (“Maybe one day you’ll be able to take your own grandchild bird-watching!”), Amy simply let this sink in, somewhat taken aback that there was still, after all these years, something about her husband she didn’t know.

“I wasn’t the oldest grandkid, or the youngest, or the smart one or the athletic one or anything like that. I just ... was. Most of the time I felt totally overshadowed by my cousins, but when Grandpa and I went out together to watch birds, it didn’t matter so much.” Jake stopped, looking startled at his own words, and laughed uncertainly. “Well now, who would have thought I’d remember that after all these years! Maybe I ought to get a pair of binoculars and take it up again. It seems like the right sort of thing for a guy getting to be an old man.”

Amy frowned. Something in that didn’t sit right with her, but she couldn’t put her finger on why. Surely it was good that Jake wanted to take up a new hobby, especially one that reminded him of his grandfather? Why should she think that it in was the wrong spirit?

Oh—of course.

“Don’t do it because you think it’s an appropriate hobby for an old man,” she said. “Do it because you think it would be fun, or because you’re interested in it.”

“Fair enough,” Jake said with a nod, conceding the point. “In truth, much as I loved my grandpa, I’m not sure I’m all that eager to become him. I like birds, but mostly ...” He stopped, because this wasn’t something he was accustomed to saying out loud. Something compelled him onward, though. “Mostly,” he said, swallowing, “I enjoyed watching you watch them this morning.”

Amy blushed, something she hadn’t done for years. “Although it wouldn’t be a bad idea for us to start developing some hobbies,” she said hurriedly. “We don’t want to spend our winter sitting around moping.”

Jake scratched at his beard. “I dunno, I honestly never saw much point in hobbies. Why dabble at something just to keep from being bored? Aren’t there better ways to stave off boredom? Something profitable?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re going to become one of those social media influencers, always trying to persuade people to ‘hustle’ and monetize their hobbies,” Amy said, rolling her eyes at the notion.

“No, I don’t mean that,” Jake said. “Good grief. No, I mean ... I’m not sure what I mean. Just, you don’t want me to start doing something just because I feel like I’m getting old. Well, maybe I don’t want you to do something just because you’re afraid you’ll be bored without it. If we do something this winter, it should—it should be something we love. Something that makes our lives better.”

They were on the verge of town now, approaching the small coffee shop that stood at the perfect spot to serve those getting off work, finishing shopping, or coming off the walking trail. Jake and Amy didn’t usually come this far, but since they were here, their feet automatically turned toward the shop, Amy still thinking over Jake’s words. What was it that she loved, besides her family, really? Was there anything she could do that would make life better?

She wasn’t sure. Was that really all she was anymore, “wife” and “mom” for so long that she didn’t have any other way of living? Jake had his work, but even so, he wasn’t much better off in terms of being someone outside his usual roles. Could they even break free after all these years? And if they did, what would it look like?

Jake opened the door to the coffee shop, and the smell of fresh-baked bread rushed out to them, causing them both to inhale with delight.

“Some fresh bread to go with our coffee, I think,” Jake said as they slipped inside and began to thaw.

Amy usually preferred some sort of fancy pastry on the rare occasions she came out for coffee, but this time, she was in full agreement with her husband: something about this occasion called for the simple goodness of bread.

“Our chef is teaching a class on making bread, if you’re interested,” said the teenage girl behind the counter when they placed their order. “It starts next week. In the evenings, so anyone can come even if they have to work during the day.”

Amy shook her head. “Not for me.” After so many years of cooking for her family, she knew her limitations. Bread-making was a mystery to her, and so long as she could get good bread at the bakery or this coffee shop, it could stay that way.

Jake stroked his beard. “Hmm.”

Amy glanced up at him as she took the plates with the still-steaming slices of buttered bread and followed him, carrying their coffees, to a small table in the corner. “What’s ‘hmm?’” she asked.

“What? Oh no, just thinking,” he said.

She knew that response. That meant that he needed to wrestle through something on his own before he could share it with her or anyone. She let it go, knowing he would tell her about it in his own good time, and instead set herself to enjoying the simple treat before her.

The bread was perfect: crisp on the outside, soft and light on the inside. Amy closed her eyes to better enjoy that first bite, followed by a swallow of coffee.

“If I weren’t so tired of always being in the kitchen, I’d think twice about that class,” she said when her mouth was empty again. “What a gift, to be able to make something so nourishing to the soul as well as the body.”

“I agree,” Jake said. “That’s why, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take that class.”

Amy nearly choked on her coffee. “You?”

Jake burned scrambled eggs and thought heating up a can of soup constituted making a decent meal. He was now going to try his hand at bread-making?

He grinned at her. “It’s ok, you don’t have to spare my feelings. I’m a rotten cook and I’ve never tried baking. But, well, I dunno. I see you in the kitchen, day in and day out, year after year, making meals that taste delicious and are good for us, bringing the family together around the table to talk and share about our day, and it’s like you said about bread, there’s something special about it, even more than other foods, and well, I guess I’d just like to try to learn something about it myself.”

Amy found herself with nothing to say.

“Only thing is, that means you’ve got to find something you can do one night a week, too,” he continued, leaning back in his chair. “It doesn’t have to be the same night, but I’m not going out and doing things and leaving you stuck at home. You’ve spent too long letting all the rest of us do our own thing while you kept the house going, and now it’s your turn to spread your wings a bit too.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk like this before,” Amy said frankly. “What’s gotten into you?”

He shrugged, drank some more coffee. “I liked seeing you light up, earlier,” he said at last. “Want to see more of it.”

She tried to gather her thoughts. A class or activity that got her out of the house and gave her chance to do something for herself, but not necessarily a hobby that was just there to keep her from being bored, or because she felt like she was getting old. Well, that let out a lot of options.

The bell over the door jingled as another customer entered, and the air was stirred up from them opening and closing the door, causing the papers and flyers pinned to the bulletin board to flap. This was where the community tended to stick information about upcoming events. One flyer in particular caught Amy’s eye as it settled back into position.

“Huh,” she said.

It was Jake’s turn to settle back and wait. Amy got up from her chair, looked more closely at the flyer, snapped a photo of it with her phone, and sat back down.

“Ok, done,” she said.

“What, already?”

Amy angled her phone across the table so Jake could see the photo.

“Pottery class?”

She kept seeing those brilliant colors flashing up from the ground, twisting their way around her legs before floating into the sky. Pottery wasn’t brilliant, necessarily, but in a way, it was similar. Beauty coming from the earth—or clay, as the case may be.

“You make the bread, I’ll make a bowl to put it in,” she said.

Jake drained the last of his coffee and finished his final bite of bread. “Deal,” he said, collecting Amy’s dishes as well as his own.

As they began the walk back home, he paused and looked back at the bright blue door of the coffee shop.

“Kind of funny,” he said, “The way we both found something we want to do right off the bat like that, just as we started thinking about it. Almost like they were waiting for us.”

“Who knows?” Amy said. “Maybe they were.”

***

After Jake’s first class, he came home cradling a small jar of sourdough starter and full of enthusiasm about wild yeast. His first few experiments were less than successful, but by the time Christmas came around, he was able to surprise the family with a delicious loaf of sourdough bread as the centerpiece of dinner.

More valuable even than the tangible result was the new gentleness with which he spoke and moved, the thoughtfulness in his eyes, the way he noticed and appreciated ordinary beauties, his small acts of kindness toward others. Nobody had ever been able to accuse Jake of thoughtlessness or unkindness, but it was as though his good qualities, always there, were more evident now.

Amy had yet to create a bowl she considered worthy of holding a loaf of her husband’s bread, but she was surprised to find herself enjoying the very slowness of the process. She was building friendships with many of the other members of her pottery class, regardless of age, parental status, or gender. She had begun learning more about the history of pottery, and regaled her startled children over Christmas break with information about kintsugi, the Japanese practice of repairing broken pottery with gold to make it even more beautiful and precious than it was when it was whole. Like Jake, she too was quicker to see beauty in ordinary things than she had been before, and to delight in life and the people around her more than she ever had.

When their bewildered children asked their parents what had brought about the change in their lives, at first neither Jake nor Amy were quite sure how to answer. The process of change had happened so gradually for them that by now it was difficult to pinpoint where and how it all started. At last Jake remembered the day they had decided to sign up for their respective classes, and told his children that was the start of it.

“Yes, but what made you sign up for them?” their oldest asked. “What made you think of it in the first place?”

Jake looked at Amy, and Amy looked at Jake.

“It all began with a wild breeze on a dreary day,” Amy said.

***

Far, far off, the wind from no-one knew where twisted itself into a dance of pure, glorious joy before whisking along its way in pursuit of yet more souls in need of stirring up into new life.

***

“The world will never starve for want of wonders; but only for want of wonder” –G.K. Chesterton

[danse--macabre]

for tirastarion—7, 14, 21, 28, 35, 42, 49 ♥️ I suppose I could’ve just said “multiples of 7” but this was more fun to write out

Ky!!! Thank you for asking these wonderful questions. Sorry this took AGES to get to. Had fun answering these:

7. What do they argue about?

Oh my god, practically everything. They're both strongly opinionated people. Tastes, particular -- they both consider themselves educated people of good taste and are pigheaded about this even though they disagree on a rather large amount once you pull back the fake-genteel mannerisms and the nonchalance towards blood they both share. The best school of magic, the worst tavern in the city, whether cravats should have gone out of fashion, to what extent is the opera is overrated, the best and worst positions to have sex, how one should (hypothetically) assassinate the grand duke (Astarion thinks there should be more blood involved). Arts, books, politics, philosophy, sex, hedonism, all of it. I think they enjoy it.

Serious things they argue about include the fact that Tirazel has made her entire career about curing Astarion's vampirism and/or granting him the ability to day walk with few limitations and the strain that puts on their relationship -- it's a whole arc that culminates when Astarion refuses to let her cast Wish, and then actually leaves for a year to travel solo and find a sense of purpose outside of their relationship. Or the fact that Tirazel has a nasty habit of making unilateral decisions without thinking and needs to remember to ask him, even if the answer would have been yes. Or the fact that Astarion sometimes fails to communicate when a boundary has been crossed and Tirazel has no idea what is going on. Those are largely the main things.

In the impossible accidental dhampir baby AU they also have arguments about parenting, but who doesn't?

14. How would they describe one another if asked?

'Oh, the outrageous rumours about him are all correct. He's an utter cad. An absolute scoundrel. Positively wicked.' Looks away, a little dreamily, before looking back, with  a delighted smile. 'Exactly how I like it.'

'My delightful paramour? Hmmm. Beautiful. Dangerous.Wickedly intelligent. My darling has all the brains and beauty in the world -- and is certainly not shy about flaunting them either. An incorrigable aesthete. Oh, and don't be fooled by that veneer of civility. She's rather good fun, beneath it all.'

21. Who is better at games? Does the loser take it graciously?

Have answered this one

28. Are they affectionate in public? Is it too much?

Have answered this one as well

35. What moment did they realise that they were in love?

Have answered this one too

42. Have they ever been jealous?

Yes. But it's something they work on. I think Tirazel is fairly upfront about her own situation: she was prevented from having sex freely and exploring her sexuality for the longest time and still seeks to pursue that, even in a committed relationship. That means their relationship will need to be open to some degree -- the specifics can be negotiated, and she's more than happy to explore this with him, if he wants. I think Astarion both accepts this and is actually quite excited by this prospect -- but he's frank that he might not be able to match her pace. I think insecurity is something Astarion does have issues with -- he wonders whether he's not enough for Tirazel, and sometimes that will manifest in jealousy. But it's something he wants to work on and work past. Both for Tirazel and also himself.

49. Do they tease each other? What about?

God, Astarion teases her constantly. Astarion will call her a prissy proper lady (even though her family bought and bribed and backstabbed their way up, and is really just as common as muck) and a wizardly wonder and the most formidable woman in the world and will gently tease her about having ridiculously high standards and being, in many respects, impossible to ever fully please. "Oh, how could I ever begin to satisfy your worship?" or "My my, the lady of the house, ever so insatiable." Winding up Tirazel is perhaps one of his favourite things to do.

Tirazel, for her part, will usually tsk and dismiss him (or take him up on his flirting and challenge him to satisfy her, then). She likes to play the part and pretend he is the scoundrel that has seized her heart -- the Wickham to her Elizabeth (though actually she is Darcy, but that's another conversation entirely). She does like to gently tease him for his vanity ('Your hair will look perfectly tousled, I promise') and his more impulsive decisions/ideas and for being an incorrigable flirt, but usually when he plays the flirt she usually just matches his energy. She used 'darling' liberally before she ever met him -- and she likes to flirt openly herself, she just doesn't flirt quite as egregiously as him (she finds that ridiculousness in him amusing, even faintly endearing)

[immacaria]

10 fandoms / 10 characters / 10 tags

Tagged by the lovely, wonderful @virgo-dream, and so sorry for taking so long to answer this. Really, really sorry, dear.

I'm not going to tag anyone because I think everyone already did this so, for those who hadn't, this is your sign to do it (and tag me to see it).

1. Leonard "Bones" McCoy (Start Trek)

My personality was based solely in this man for a long, long time. The sass, the "I don't care" caring type, his relationship with Kirk e Spock, the eyebrow lift. I love this man very dearly to this days and I'll never, ever stop saying so. I wanted to be a doctor for him, can you imagine?

2. Peter Pevensie (The Chronicles of Narnia)

Something something older siblings doing what they can for their younger siblings. He is here not only because he was hot as fuck in these movies, but because he was a good brother or, at least, tried to be. I sympathised a lot with him and his way of being for a lot of reasons but mostly because I was always the one to care for my friends and sibling when we were young.

3. Hob Gadling (The Sandman)

I found Hob Gadling recently and while in a dark period of my life. It would be a lie to say that this stubborn, possibly-crazy and completely charming man didn't charm me the instant I saw him (And I'm not saying only bcuz of Ferdie, okay?). His endless hope in humanity, in the future, in the little things made me happy for being alive again, you know?? Of sitting back and just enjoying the simple fact that I'm breathing. That I can listen to music when I wish to. That my family is one call away from me. That I can go to college. That I have food in the fridge. It may not be much for many or something so common that people overlook it, but I'm here, I'm alive and I can see the world changing again and again and I just guess Hob made me realise that, you know? So yes, Hob goes in this list.

4. Jiang Cheng/Jiang Wanying (MDZS)

Angry Jiujiu who cared too much, got hurt again and again for that, lost literally EVERYONE but kept going. Did he do wrongs? Yes, a lot. Does he need to go therapy? Yes, a lot. Do I love him still? Yes, a lot. It's just that, whenever I see this man, the only thing I can think about is how precious he is, how much he cared for his whole family despite always being compared to others, always being called angry and undesirable by society (That hit a little bit too close to home, but okay) but still helping it, still out there doing his part. Everytime I think of him, I gain strength to go through whatever it is that I'm going through because "If Jiujiu could do it, I can too".

5. Shang Qinghua (SVSS)

Shang Qinghua is just a little guy, a crazy little guy who writes porn for a living and gets dragged in his own world without wanting to. He is very unassuming, very overlooked, but he is fucking crazy and he will kill a lot of people if they as much as look at his King wrong. This man literally wrote himself the man of his dreams and THEN he got him. THEY GOT TOGETHER. If that isn't every writer's dream I don't know what that is. But, mostly important, I support Shang Qinghua's right, but his wrongs are much more interesting.

6. Kiki (Kiki's Delivery Service)

I love that little witch, okay? She is a little sweetheart with so much love, hope and wonder for the world!! She works so hard!! She is so brave!! I love her, okay?? And her movie is beautiful too!! The strength of learning how to rest, how to let things flow is amazing. It would be a lie if I said I don't see myself a lot in her, you know? Specially regardings on the resting side lol. That one is not easy.

7. Pete "Maverick" Mitchell (Top Gun)

He is crazy. He is unhinged. He is reckless. He is self-sacrificing. He loves with his whole heart (which means he grieves with his whole heart as well). When I first watched the movie, years ago, I promised myself that I would be like him (And Goose) as much as I could. That I would laugh freely, that I would be bold, that I would be as strong as that crazy little man who doesn't know when to stop and reaches for what he wants without fear.

8. Kaldur'ahm (Young Justice)

Do I need to say more? Do I? This mas was literally perfect. Good person, respectful, good leader, cared about his people, was hot as fuck. He was fucking amazing and would do anything to assure that his team would get out of their mission alive and as well as they could be, even if it meant sacrificing himself.

9. Mulan (Mulan)

Badass queen who made me who I am today. This woman wasn't afraid of anything. She was a badass who fought for what was right, fuck what people thought of her or of the way she was dressing. She would do what was right, no matter what. I love her for that (And Shang as well, I love Shang a lot. The couple that made me realise I was bisexual years later). Simply amazing.

10. Reyna Avila Ramirez Arellano (HOO)

A queen. Never did nothing wrong, always has to put up with everyone's bullshit. Adopts a lot of little siblings, an amazing person. I love her and I had a MASSIVE crush on her when I was younger.

Honourable mentions (because they deserve it)

11. Porco Rosso (Porco Rosso)

I love that idiot, okay? He pretends not to care but he cares so much, he loves so much and he just wants to help. He is tired of the capitalism and everything, he just wants peace and to be left alone with his own things and plane. I love him a lot.

12. Merida (Merida)

I always saw her relationship with her mother a bit like mine with my mom. Merida just wants to be free, to do what she wishes to, be seen by what she is. She loves her little siblings, her mother and her father and even though she has no patience, she is never unkind to anyone. She is simply amazing.

13. Adam (Frankstein)

He was a monster (literally) but he was more human than many people out there. There was so much wonder in his being, he loved so much, cared so much and he just wanted to be cared and loved in return, but even his creator turned him down, even his creator recoiled from him and that made him suffer so much.