#because they outshine him in everything else

[haveihitanerve]

okay but can you imagine-

nightwing, tearing through Gotham, looking for any signs of trouble because hes visiting his family and decided to help out a bit. and suddenly a blur shoot past him and he curses and lands on a nearby roof, sprinting at full speed. all he gets back is distorted laughter, more terrifying than any noise joker can ever make because thats his dad. laughing. at him. and dick screams in frustration and tries to run faster but he cant and the Gothamites are looking at him like hes crazy, hightailing it across the roof after someone they cant see, and then the blur disappears and dick comes to a stop, panting, and batman is waiting on a nearby gargoyle, not having broken a sweat, casually chomping on a burger as if to say, 'what took you so long' and holds out a water bottle silently and dick snatches it, chugs it, then pelts it at his fathers head but bruce is long gone.

nothing has ever enraged him more

in my head bruce is faster than the kids and it pisses them off so much. they're in their prime and this 40 y/o guy who sleeps like two hours a night and puts protein shakes in his coffee and calls that breakfast can outrun them

[yandereend]

Yandere pretty boy

inspired by Dorian Gray

TW: typical yandere stuff, pretty boy, Dorian likes being mean

Please keep in mind that English is not my native language thank you 💛

P.1/? let me know if you want more

He was utterly beautiful, the kind that takes your breath away and makes you hate yourself. The kind that you envy and would kill to be like. The kind that everyone loves but nobody likes. The kind of man that is obsessed with himself.

Dorian was perfect he would describe himself as nothing less than that.

His blond hair framed the delicate features of his face and made his hazel eyes shine like the sun. His toned body was described by his admirers as breathtaking. And his deep voice sounded like that of an angel or an prince.

He was the most popular guy in school and had a group of fans in almost every class. When he was a junior seniors asked him out and now that he’s one himself he rejected everyone who ever asked him out. Everybody hoped to be his first.

Since even if he seemed like a player his standards were too high to be one. He saved himself up to find the perfect match for himself that would rival his beauty.

But now that his senior year was halfway finished he wondered if the right person would ever came. His father would always encourage him to keep on looking for the one, like his father did with his mother.

And thats when you came into the picture. You didn’t have high expectations for your new school, you just wanted to find friends and get decent grades. And everything went surprisingly well until you got asked out by the most magnificent man you had ever seen. You knew Dorian since you shared a few classes with him where he did nothing but stare at his phone (and you).

So you quickly went from the new student to the partner of the most popular guy in school. Many wondered what was so different about you when Dorian rejected everyone else. But Dorian knew, in his eyes you were as beautiful as him, and after he got to know you better after a few dates he finally realized what people meant with „what’s on the inside matters“.

You were more beautiful than him, of course not on the outside because let’s be honest nobody is. But your character was better than his, you are nice, empathetic, friendly and every other positive trait he could think of. And he wanted to reward you.

So he talked with his father and decided to take you to your new home.

You didn’t expect much when he invited you to his house, especially not the biggest mansion you have ever seen. But it wasn’t the outside that caught you off guard, it was what was inside.

Before every window was a thick curtain so that no sunlight was visible inside.

On every wall where either pictures of Dorian and a beautiful woman or mirrors. They were big and small, and you felt like they were following your every step. Dorians room was no different being filled with mirrors and a giant portrait above his bed. The picture of Dorian Gray.

You like it, my angel? He asked seeing you staring at his portrait, while hugging you from behind.

It was made on my 18th birthday to capture my beauty forever.

You looked in awe at the sheer beauty infront of you. So you were surprised when Dorian pulled you out of his room and you went to a separate one.

It had no windows and the only thing in it was a portrait of a family. You felt hypnotized by the sight. The woman in the picture even outshined Dorians beauty

Thats my mother.

The toddler which you made out as Dorian had a lot more cuteness to him than Dorian had now with his more often stern expressions. Just the man stood out like a sore thumb with his just average appearance.

You look just like her. He said like in trance.

You were so enamored with the picture that you didn’t realize that the servants threw away all your belongings which you brought with you and locked all the doors.

You were captured by the most beautiful man, with the darkest desires.

💛Thanks a lot for reading, feel free to share. I don’t think I ever had more ideas to write in a story 💛

[merakiui]

Okay that hive mind Riddle this is soo hot. But hear me out, the colony is very important to and in an effort to maintain peace, they rotate who gets to breed you on a schedule. They're 5 of them and that gives you 1-2 days grace period for "me" time. And Riddle is a major hard ass on the schedule.

"No, Ace. You know you have mondays and you should have planned around that."

The schedule is as follows:

Mon- Ace, Tue- Cater, Wed- Deuce, Thurs- Trey, and Fri- Riddle

Because Cater and Trey make a point to clean you up at the beginning and end of their days so that's why

Sorry, Idk why Im soo fixated on how they're set up

These are excellent thoughts aaaaa!!! <3 not only does breeding you on a schedule keep things organized and allows you to slowly but surely adapt to the way the hive works, it also boosts morale for the aliens themselves. Relief sweeps through the rest of the hive seeing their new Queen soft and round with new clutches. Now they won’t have to worry about the dangers of going extinct.

Ace and Deuce, while younger than the other three, are perhaps the easiest to approach. Deuce is friendly and so is Ace (though usually when he wants something from you). For a while, your relationship with Ace is one of transaction. Deuce makes sure you’re always prepared and taken care of before, during, and after breeding. You look forward to the days with him because he treats you so tenderly. He tries to tell you in what limited human speech he can use that that’s how he was brought up. It’s important to treat one’s mate with respect and admiration.

Ace, though childish and seemingly more interested in your body than you, gradually warms up to you. He can’t let Deuce outshine him, so he starts making an effort. He sees how much happier it makes you when he sticks around after breeding you, when he gathers snacks for you, when he talks to you, etc and realizes he’s been a terrible mate so far. Now he’s improving himself and his methods have changed. He genuinely wants a connection with you, even if he slyly skirts around that truth when asked.

Trey and Cater are much more mature than Ace and Deuce. They look after you in their own ways, though no one can beat Trey when it comes to that. He’s a natural caretaker, always putting you before himself, but you think he has ulterior motives for this. Gaining your trust would definitely be one of them. You’re hesitant to open up to Trey because of this. Cater makes it easier but not by a lot, if only because his constant fawning over you feels…superficial sometimes. Even though you realize your appearance in this hive makes you a curiosity for everyone else, it still manages to embarrass you just a little when he smothers you, calling you cute in his native tongue. At the very least, you appreciate how both he and Trey will go out of their ways to ensure your safety on their allotted days.

The dynamic between you and Trey sometimes borders that of a pet. He loves to wash and clean you, and he prepares delicious meals for you. You keep expecting him to put a collar on you next. Cater already has the cute nicknames covered. There’s a very clear divide between you and them. You receive the treatment of a beloved pet, but when it comes to breeding you’re used for your intended purpose: to carry their young. It’ll take time for them to view you as a mate they wish to keep forever and not just a convenient hole to keep their young safe and snug.

And Riddle!!! Riddle is probably the most anxious and high-strung around you. He’s devoted to his schedule, to the rules of the hive, to doing everything in accordance with tradition. Sometimes it feels controlling, but he really only ever has your best interests in mind. He’s so infatuated with you and adores every little aspect about you! From the way your human toes curl in pleasure to the way your human voice wavers with soft gasps and groans to the way you leak salty liquid from your pretty human eyes when something feels good or hurts. It’s all so fascinating. He wants to learn more.

When he isn’t using his days to breed you, he’s spending that time studying you, courting you, enjoying delicious foods with you in what feels like the equivalent of a human tea party. Though he has a temper and can get frustrated, it’s never directed at you. In fact, he’s overwhelmingly gentle when he handles you and surprisingly respectful. Just,,, please forget and forgive that first day he met you, when he’d been so desperate for a Queen he’d dragged you back to the hive and knocked you up with a clutch. >_< it was all purely for survival!

[lunarduty]

𝙒𝙄𝙎𝙃 𝙄 𝘿𝙄𝘿𝙉'𝙏 𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙀

☾ how the cod men act when they're jealous. 141 + ALEJANDRO + RUDY + GRAVES + FRANK X F!READER TAGS | female reader. WC | 1,449

☾ JOHN PRICE has always felt very secure in himself, his work, and the relationships with those he cares about - that extends to you tenfold. he’s not one to get into a relationship if he doesn’t feel like you won’t or can’t be faithful 100%. and that’s why he never truly gets jealous - because he knows you and he knows you love him and wouldn’t try to mess around. if some muppet tries hitting on you at the pub, he’ll only get involved because he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.

but john isn’t completely immune from jealousy. while he never worries about some other bloke sweeping you off your feet, his jealousy comes through when he feels as if someone else is outshining him. john has a tendency to be distant, and even when he’s beginning to feel that distance, work can pull him even further away. so if he sees you getting your laughs or comfort from someone else, it kinda tugs at his heart. makes him wish he was doing it instead.

☾ GAZ never truly lets things get under his skin if he doesn’t deem them important enough to, and jealousy is one of those things. of course, he likes having all of your attention. but it’s hard to really feel threatened when he’s the one who brought you to the pub, arm over your shoulders, showing you off and giving lots of kisses and doesn’t really give a fuck who sees. cheeky as he is, kyle might even revel in the onlookers who start to feel jealous of him.

and if there’s anything to be jealous about, it’s the bottle that you hold so tightly in your hands and bring to those gorgeous lips. it’s toward the music itself for making you move so slowly and sexily. it’s at the liquor that plasters a grin on your face when gaz can usually do it himself. he does later, rest assured - makes dumb jokes to make you laugh while he runs your hands all over his body for you. and there’s nothing left to be jealous over.

☾ SOAP is a man who’s pretty in touch with his feelings. he knows when he starts feeling jealous, when it starts making him act up, and he always feels bad about it. there’s few people in the world soap trusts more than you - yet, he gets that hot, tight knot in his gut whenever he hears your laughter and he’s not the cause of it. when someone else seems to gain your attention more easily than he can. soap will push it down, try to act nonchalant, like it doesn’t bother him. but it does. other people pick up on it and that just makes it worse.

later on, when he finally gets you to himself, soap is talkative - more than usual. like if he keeps rambling about random topics, it’ll make up for lost time. at least in his mind. you eventually have to slow him down with a kiss, ask if everything is alright. you know soap better than he knows himself - of course you picked up on the shift in his mood. that simple fact helps soothe away the last lickings of jealousy. he still feels stupid about letting himself get like that.

☾ GHOST wouldn’t even realize he was jealous until someone else points it out. he’s usually gruff and stoic and glaring at people so his signs of jealous takes the form of not talking at all. and lots of staring. scowling is probably a better word for it - if looks can kill and all that. he internalizes his own behavior as simple concern over you, or something about the situation just not feeling right. he still memorizes the face of the guy who’s been chatting you up. sticks him all the way to the top of his shit list.

ghost doesn’t really interfere, not unless he feels like he has to (though, he’ll move around the goalposts of when the appropriate time is.) until then, he kinda just sulks by himself. not even soap can muster more than a couple words from him. and you can really feel his jealousy once he’s got you by his side again and he’s barely talking to you and glaring because he’s in a general shit mood. you ask him what’s wrong, and he says it’s nothing. it’s not until later, in private, when he reflects and feels like a total ass.

☾ ALEJANDRO is quite known for his hot temper, but when it comes to jealousy, he becomes more of an opportunist. instead of embarrassing you and himself by acting out on his jealousy, he’ll take the burning feeling and turn it into something useful. this means coming up to you, pulling you against his side, looking directly at the guy who’d been chatting you up, and really laying it on thick. kisses you, touches you, makes sly little comments. might kick it up a notch by saying some lowkey insults at the guy, knowing he wouldn’t do anything but alejandro kinda wishes he would.

he’ll act all innocent if you confront him about it. tell you he just likes showing you off because you’re too fucking cute and he loves you too much. but that act doesn’t hold up for very long because alejandro isn’t great at subtly. he ends up just insulting the guy even more to you by saying he was an idiot and didn’t deserve you and he kinda smelled anyway so why would you ever give him the time of day?

☾ RUDOLFO gets a bit of a Kicked Puppy Vibe whenever he’s jealous. he can be a sensitive person and feels the loss of your presence in his very soul. he really does try to ignore that ugly, twisted feeling inside him whenever the jealous gets especially potent. he wants to enjoy the night with the rest of los vaqueros, but rudy always seems to find you in the crowd. always frowns a little when he finds you enjoying the company of someone else a little too much. always stops himself from going and stealing your attention for himself.

but later on, his affection gets amped up to the max. rudy usually shines under your attention, and tonight is only worse. honestly gets a little clingy for the rest of the night, and seems to feel a little better when you blame it on the alcohol. of course, rudy knows himself well enough to know what he’s doing. feels a little embarrassed by it, so maybe some of his many kisses are his way of subtly apologizing for it.

☾ PHILLIP GRAVES does not get jealous at all. not at all. why should he care if some loser is making you laugh so hard at jokes that aren’t even funny? he only steps in because this guy is so wildly unfunny, and also kinda creepy, that graves is afraid you might just die of boredom. and as you know, phillip’s a heroic guy. as your boyfriend and commander, it’s his job to keep you safe from any and all threats big, or in this guy’s case, very small.

graves couldn’t hide his jealousy to save his own life. he likes to believe he’s smart and cunning and doesn’t let dumb shit get to him - and that’s true for a lot of things. but as soon as you gets you all to himself. he’s got this primal need to pull you close and remind you just who the fuck you belong to. he doesn’t think of it as proving himself, but the marks on your neck say otherwise…

☾ FRANK WOODS gets jealous more often than he’ll admit it. it’s going to be loud and it’s going to be obvious. and he’ll deny it - insist he isn’t the jealous type and he’s got more self-respect than all that. but he’s not nearly as subtle as he tries to be. it’s so easy to catch his gaze from across the room when someone happens to get a little too friendly. he’ll say over and over how he isn’t jealous, and in the same breath, stand between you and the dick talking to you and start throwing out insults.

even if you call him out on it later, frank doesn’t seem to care. in fact, he’ll look damn proud of himself. he’s always had this instinct to protect what’s his. always had this tendency for possessiveness. if he’s in a good mood, he’ll crack a dumb joke about the guy and move on. if not, he might think you were trying to make him jealous. but of course, that would mean admitting he was jealous in the first place.

[the-whispers-of-death]

Home Again

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Most gods would be happy that they were back in the paradise realm after previously being banished and stripped of their divinity, but Fallen God!Ghost aches for you.

His nights are spent dreaming about you, the mortal who showed him what love was. He dreamt of sleeping beside you, kissing you, even cooking with you. He dreamt of your beautiful hair, your breathtaking eyes, your jaw-dropping smile. His dreams were filled with memories of your laughter, your smooth and lyrical voice.

Paradise realm is a paradise, sure, but nothing could compare to you. Your beauty outshines the paradise realm's, your presence calms Ghost in a way the paradise realm can never. The air was always lighter when he was around you, the colors of the world always brighter. You are his light, his world, and everything is dull without you.

He spends week after week searching for how to get back to the mortal realm and back to you. His power is potent, he can just teleport himself down to the mortal realm to see you but that doesn't seem like a satisfying answer to him.

Ghost would eventually have to leave you and go back to the paradise realm, forced to be able to only visit you from time to time. He didn't want that, he can't bear the thought of leaving you. Of sleeping in his own bed, alone.

He also couldn't make you a concubine of his, bring you to the paradise realm. It didn't feel right for him to ask you to leave everything you knew behind just so you could spend hours alone in his temple while he worked. You deserve better than that.

So what else was there to do?

It takes Ghost a few days to realize what he must do. What he has to do in order to see you again.

He is standing in God!Price's temple, all of the deities summoned there for the monthly update of what the pantheon has been doing since they last convened. He can barely hear what the others are saying, it being meaningless as his mind finally reaches an answer to his burning question.

"I'm stripping myself of my godhood and powers, permanently," Ghost says, interrupting the conversation.

The entire temple is silenced at once, everyone turning their heads to stare at Ghost in disbelief.

A god deliberately turning himself mortal? That was unheard of. It was absurd to even those deities who loved the mortals so much.

Price frowns, clearly thinking Ghost has gone mad. "Now, Ghost, let's think about this," he says, his words slow and carefully curated. "You can't just abandon your godly duties, you're the God of Warfare. If there's one thing that the mortals do the most, it's engaging in war."

Ghost scoffs. "My duties can easily be done by our Goddess of War," he replies, gesturing with his hand towards said goddess. "I no longer want to be a god."

His words ignite a flurry of murmurs between the other deities, all of them shocked beyond disbelief. They don't understand why he wouldn't want to be a god, especially after centuries of hearing him look down on mortals.

"Is this because of the mortal you met during your banishment, {Name}?" Price asks, peeved now. "I hadn't thrown you down to them for you to fall in love with them, Ghost."

"No, you did it so I could learn the importance of mortals and I have," Ghost cuts in, his power flaring up as his anger spikes. This isn't up for debate. "I'm doing this no matter what any of you say, I was doing a courteous thing by giving you all a heads-up."

Price shifts in the seat of his throne, itching to get up and slap some sense into Ghost. "Enough of this, Ghost. You don't even know if they will take you if you're not a god. Perhaps that was the only reason they fell in love with you in the first place."

Ghost snarls in rage at the accusation and assassination of your character. "Even if that's the case, which I doubt it is, it is my choice. I'd rather spend the rest of my mortal life heartbroken if they turn me away than spend eternity aching for them," he says defiantly.

Immense power fills the temple, all of it Ghost's as he pools it all in his veins. Stripping himself of his godhood and powers is excruciating, the pain almost enough to stop him, but he keeps pressing on with the action.

It was worth it, for you.

"Someone stop him!" Price bellows at the other deities, but it's too late.

Just as God!Soap reaches for Ghost to try and stop him, Ghost's godhood and powers are stripped from him, his last act of being a god is to send his mortal form where it needs to be: at your doorstep.

His second fall seems euphoric, a laugh bubbling up in his chest as he falls through the clouds and lands on your front porch just like he had done months ago.

He looks to the side just as you open your front door, a smile gracing his lips at the sight of you. The weight on his chest is lifted, everything falling into place once more.

"Ghost?" You ask, surprised. You had thought you would never see him again. "Did... Did you get your godhood taken away again?"

Ghost stands with your help, his skin thrumming at the sensation of your hands on him again. "I took it away myself," he murmurs, breathless as he stares in your beautiful eyes.

Your face twists into confusion, which makes sense since he had been itching to be a god again the first time he fell. "Why?"

"For you, love. I couldn't bear to live eternity without you," Ghost says, secretly nervous that you won't take him now that he's not a god. "I love you, {Name}."

"I love you too," you reply, making him relax. You step closer, happy that this isn't a dream. "I don't care that you're not a god anymore, I only ever wanted you."

"You will always have me, for as long as you will have me."

Ghost steps closer as well, reaching up to gently cradle your face between his hands. He can't wait for you to lean in as well, though you do so as he gently presses his lips against yours.

The kiss can only be described as heavenly, all of the noises of city life fading away until there was only the sound of you two kissing. It's so gentle and slow, Ghost savoring what it's like to kiss you. He pours every ounce of love into the kiss, needing you to be filled with his love.

It feels like you are kissing for hours before you both pull away for air. Your soft pants fill the air between you two, you smiling at him.

"Come on," you say, gently grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers together. "Let's go inside and have dinner together."

Ghost nods and follows you inside the house that truly feels like home now. He lets you lead him into the kitchen, not even complaining about having to cook with you.

He had been a fallen god when he had first met you but now, he was neither fallen nor a god. He was just Ghost. A man you loved.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

[enhypencores]

Bleed Me Dry Pt II

READ PART 1 HERE

Lee Heeseung X Y/N

Genre: Yandere Romance/ Thriller/ Stalker

Prompt: "If I carve you into my blood, will you believe my love?"

Word Count: 11K+

WARNING⚠️: Explicit content, profanity, sexual harassment, heated make outs, female stereotyping, use of a derogatory word, violence, lots of blood, aggression, toxic masculinity, yandere, manipulation, mentions of self exit, drugs, unhealthy relationships and mental health issues. Y/N described with long hair and brown eyes.

Cameos: Jake, Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Yeji, Karina, Jaemin and Jisung

A/N: Please read the warnings carefully before proceeding. There's heavy discussions and complex character dynamics. None of it is healthy. This is a work of fiction, please read it as such. If I missed out any, lemme know.

PS: I’d love to hear your feedback <3

Heeseung had gathered some crucial knowledge from a heavily drunk Jake.

“Intelligent and tall. She’s got a thing for them… She had this crush on a dude in the first semester. Told her he was a jerk, didn’t listen, and you know… he broke her heart. His name? Think it was park jeong guk? jeong woo? I don’t know… It was just some guy. She’s stupid…”

He had wanted to punch that knowing look off Jake’s face as he insulted you, but Heeseung tried swallowing down the surging fury.

Because, indeed, you were so stupid. Why had you allowed some loser into your life? When Heeseung gets you, he will make sure to treasure every part of you. He wouldn’t need anyone else. He would use his every breath to cherish you, only you.

Despite the hostility he felt upon hearing of your previous crush, the good news was that Heeseung unintentionally matched the description. He had never been so grateful for his genes until this moment; traits he once considered useless suddenly becoming his most prized.

Heeseung bore a good height, and his mind was like a computer program. At just ten years old, his father had assumed he’d discover the cure for cancer—yet to come true, but everyone in college believed if anyone could do it, it was Lee Heeseung.

A special one, born to lead, a saviour, they claimed. But Heeseung never wanted to be his father’s golden child. He didn’t want to contribute to society or garner the world’s praise. He barely had friends—except for Kim Sunoo, Heeseung’s childhood partner in crime.

To the world, Heeseung was an overachiever, but he knew his excellence was merely a distraction from his twisted mind. His father was the first to notice the disconnect.

Heeseung chose medicine on a whim, a flick of a coin—heads or tails. The boredom in his life drove him to try everything: paragliding, boxing, swimming, drugs and unrestrained, animalistic sex. He had lived countless lives in two decades.

Early teenage years, his father took it upon himself to train his son, instilling social norms and enforcing strict rules as he tried moulding Heeseung into someone 'normal.' Like a dog on a leash, he made Heeseung more human while maintaining a safe distance to avoid getting scratched. Heeseung understood this from the moment he gained consciousness: his father was scared of him. Terrified.

He never discovered what exactly made his father lock his door every night, but whatever it was, it confirmed a small suspicion: Heeseung was unlovable.

It wasn’t anything detrimental really, because Heeseung never felt the need to seek love. Even in psychological terms, a human's absolute necessities were food, shelter, sex, and safety. When he could survive on the bare minimum, why should he look for something as wasteful as love? He'd rather spend time gaming and pretending to outshine the world’s brilliant minds.

Now, Heeseung was tired of the boredom. So tired that he thought to end it. How long could one treck through an aimless journey?

The realisation that he could cease to exist and no one would know his whereabouts made him feel somewhat better. The taste of death brought him immense curiosity. Would he turn to dust and ashes? Would he be forgotten in memories?

He didn’t think anyone would remember him. To his father, he was a trophy; to his friends, a competition; and to outsiders, a freak. His loss would merely be a statistic: a decline in Korea’s population digits, a decrease in the number of distinction holders in the country, and one less student in Seoul University’s register.

That’s what he thought.

Until he came across you.

You, with your brown eyes, small frame, your liveliness and your beauty.

It was a rainy day in Seoul when he was walking past the bus stand after wrecking his father’s beloved car in a deliberate crash. Unfortunately, he made it out unscathed, only injuring the vehicle. Maybe Heeseung had been born with a shit ton of luck, destined to waste it away.

Regardless, thanks to that golden tub of luck, he was able to land his gaze on you. Heeseung unintentionally remembered countless formulae and research, but the one thing he intended to remember—fucking forced himself to perfectly encode in his memory—was the way you looked that day.

Brown hair slightly wet, sticking to your jawline, knitted brows, and wide eyes staring up at the sky in vengeful retaliation. Heeseung stopped in his tracks.

He had never seen an angel angry.

You dialled a number on your mobile and spoke calmly into your phone.

“The bus is running late. Pick me up.” He remembered a sulking pout on your lips.

“It’s raining! I don’t even have an umbrella. You want me to walk?” He remembered incredulous horror written across your features, lips frowning at the caller’s words.

“Fine... Please! There, I said it, now come quick.” He remembered you rolling your eyes, biting your lip and clenching your bag’s strap tighter.

The phone call ended, and you folded your arms over your chest, letting the damp material cling to your bust, detailing the line of your bra as you tapped your foot on the drenched footpath, staring ahead in longing.

That day, an inactive section of his brain burst out with life, that’s all he could theorise. He wanted to devour you, grope your drenched body, kiss your red mouth, force his fingers into your most sensitive tissues and consume your cries.

He wanted to destroy the person on that call with you, bury them within the earth’s deepest pits so they’d never return to you. He wanted the earth to swallow you and him together, so he could hide you away and savour this moment. He wanted to be the only existence to remember you, here, standing at the bus stop, waiting for a ride home.

Why were you here alone anyway? Who was coming?

Heeseung wanted to shadow you from the rain. If he was a part of your life, he’d chase away all the buses—let alone make you wait for one to pick you up. He would stand drenched in the rain if it meant your ass would only meet the covers of his seat.

A booming motion of the car made your eyes light up. Heeseung’s chest knotted up, a foreign emotion bubbling in his throat as a blonde braked his car before you. You hurried to climb into the passenger’s seat, and then he drove away. Just like that.

He hadn’t hurt someone so far in this life, but the urge to drive a car into the blonde grew tenaciously strong. He had never felt such hatred and venom consume his being. The thought of you getting into that car, going away to share a life Heeseung wasn’t a part of left a gnawing anger in his chest.

His heart which hadn’t felt something in so long suddenly felt alive, riveting with twisted emotions. Heeseung didn’t want to live, but suddenly he didn’t want to die either. He didn’t wish to be remembered, but suddenly he wanted at least one person to remember.

That day he came to a staggering conclusion: Heeseung was unfit to be loved, but he wasn’t unfit to love.

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

Peak hours on a Monday afternoon started early. Waitresses ambled from one table to another, carrying orders as the room bustled with young college students, conversing and gossiping while awaiting their snacks. The rich essence of chocolate and coffee beans filled the air, stirring hunger among individuals working alone with their noses in laptops and textbooks.

Heeseung’s lips curved in a knowing smile: if you were here, you’d be one of those unaccompanied goody two shoes, sipping on a chocolate milkshake, jotting things down in your notebook. He pictured your brows scrunched as you wrapped your beautiful lips around the straw, gulping long sips and pulling away with a content smile.

“Baby, can’t we go somewhere more private?”

His jaw tightened, aggravated at the shrill interruption. He feigned a smile, his gaze falling back on the red-haired bimbo who stared at him like he was the answer to her every prayer.

Heeseung grabbed a fork, scooping up a bite of strawberry cheesecake before filling his mouth. His stomach fluttered as he revelled in the sweet texture. Ever since stealing those kisses, he couldn’t stop craving sweet treats. He even bought some candies on his way home that morning, already feeling the withdrawals kicking in.

“But how’ll we do this—in private?”

The girl stared in confusion before she was yanked into his embrace, his warm lips slamming into hers, kissing her aggressively, the sweet creaminess from the cake transferring into her mouth. She moaned, licking his lips incessantly, begging for entrance, but Heeseung dismissed her attempts, his brows furrowed in annoyance.

Nervously, the red-haired girl slid her chair closer, biting her lip as she observed the underwhelmed expression on his face.

“What’s wrong? Are you mad at me?” She sulked, sucking at her teeth, staring up with concern.

Heeseung shook his head and pulled her into his lap. “Did you do something to make me mad?” He mumbled, rubbing his nose down her neck, peppering small kisses to distract her from his response.

“Ah—n-no! I didn’t,” she gasped, her concern melting away already, her head tilting back as Heeseung planted kisses down her collarbone.

“Shouldn’t you be at uni right now?” He abruptly changed the topic, portraying the perfectly caring boyfriend who gave a shit about her life.

“Yeah, but I’ll ask a friend for the class notes,” she mustered up, her breath laborious as Heeseung ran his hand down her thigh, his kisses growing feistier against her exposed neck.

“Hm, are you that smart?” He pressed on, his patience running out. “Thought I’d fucked you dumb already,” he whispered repulsive words, his hand covering her thighs as the girl tightened in his hold, her lips pressed together to silence any sound, cautious of their surroundings.

Heeseung’s gaze changed, a menacing darkness flashing through. “Smart bitches,” he began, his words blunt and aggressive. “Fucking hate them. Running their big mouths all the damn time,” he declared, his bitter tone making her knees quiver in arousal.

“Tell me, baby, you’re not one of those, are you?” He urged.

One way to access a woman’s weaknesses was to put her up against another.

The girl whose name he had forgotten the second she uttered it, shook her head with desperation. Had he asked her to admit to murder, she would have agreed.

“No!” She yelped, alarmed at his lack of interest. “I’m so dumb. Barely passing this degree,” she confessed, her voice cracking as she spread her knees for his attention.

“Hm—really?” He mocked, and she nodded, her body pleading for his approval. “But your course is so tough. You must be so smart.” Heeseung’s tone dripped with sarcasm, his frown hinting at his displeasure.

The girl choked; her breaths alarmingly rapid as Heeseung’s fingers trailed closer to her clothed centre. “But not me—there’s some smart girls in my class. I—I’m not like them, Hee,” she rambled, her eyes screwing shut.

“Smart girls like—yourself?” He threw the bait, challenging her, and she immediately shook her head, her body jolting as Heeseung flicked his fingers against her centre.

“Not me—not me. This other girl—Ah!” She bit her tongue, her body trembling as Heeseung drew faint circles against her clit. “There’s—Y/N!”

Bingo.

“She’s like the smartest—oh!”

Heeseung halted his movement, his teeth gritting in frustration, anger bubbling up his throat as the girl kept moaning into her words, prolonging this ordeal. He hadn’t spent the last three days coercing a second-year pharmacology student from your college to serenade and romance. He wanted information.

The girl’s arched frame twisted at the sudden lack of touch, her wet gaze darting to Heeseung’s in urgency.

“Speak,” he commanded bluntly, his usual sugar-coated tone gone along with his smile.

The girl’s expression faltered, her blood turning cold. “Uh—there’s this girl—she’s really smart, always acing her exams,” she responded reluctantly, her insecure gaze attempting to read his intentions.

Heeseung’s hand slid back down to her leaking centre, his movement more vigorous as he wrapped his lips on her earlobe. “You’re so hot like this—like a dumb bitch for me,” he drawled, sucking her sensitive flesh.

His sudden shift in demeanour seemed like a hallucination, his voice now intentionally low and sultry. “You wouldn’t want to be like Y/N, hm? You’re my good girl.”

The girl was a goner. Her head dropped back onto his shoulder, her eyes shut, and her body trembling from his touch, his previous indifference a distant memory.

“Yeah—I am—so—so dumb for you,” she babbled nonsensically. Heeseung’s flicks quickened.

“That bitch—she’s so smart and talks too much, probably why no one likes her. Such a loser— I don’t know why Park Jongseong’s crazy for her.”

Heeseung’s arm faltered, his body freezing.

The girl, lost in the throes of her arousal, ignored it, urgently pressing her hand down to maintain the pressure. “She’s so full of herself. Bet she’s as virgin as a nun—but maybe—she finally let poor Jongseong have a go, who kno—Ah!”

Heeseung yanked her hair back, his clenched fist tightening and ripping a few strands. His gaze was predatory, chest heaving as he stared down at the horrified girl.

“I’ll rip that tongue out, sweetheart,” he hissed, his venomous tone cutting through and gripping her heart with horror.

The sickening words replayed like a broken record. A searing sting flared inside his chest, his jaw tightening as he thought of that name: Park Jongseong.

Of course, it was the guy from the photos—it fit him perfectly. His arrogant, self-righteous demeanour, that overly exaggerated smile on his face as he held you. It had to be him.

The imagery the stupid girl on his lap painted, her words dripping with malice for his Y/N; everything began to suffocate his lungs.

Heeseung stared down, his hand still gripping her locks as she looked at him with disbelief.

As he released his grip, she winced, her eyes wet with tears.

Heeseung wrapped an arm around her waist like a shackle, holding her captive as he leaned forward and picked up the steaming hot coffee she had ordered. She flinched as he pushed the cup to her lips.

“Drink.”

The girl stared at him like he had grown two heads.

“It’s too hot—”

“Leave one sip behind, and you’ll wish you had listened.”

Her heart raced, body turning cold. Heeseung’s chilling gaze and crooked smile were laced with demonic intent, making her stomach churn. She had never felt her organs shrivel with just the sight of a man’s empty gaze.

She realised at that very moment. She had to obey or else… she didn’t even want to consider what could happen.

She took the heated cup, gulping down her spit to ease the pressure in her throat.

Then she clung to the cup and downed the entire thing. The first rush of liquid scalded the roof of her mouth. Burns trailed down her tongue, to her throat, buzzing all the way into her stomach. Bloody broils flared up, her muscles jolting in agony as pain overwhelmed her cognition. With an excruciating sob, she dropped the empty cup, shattering it on the ground as she tried screaming for help. 

The busy café didn’t seem to notice anything but the shatter, rolling their eyes at the couple’s antics before continuing with their own endeavours.

Heeseung patted her head, smiling in satisfaction. “That’s my good girl.” 

The sobbing girl tore herself from his lap. Standing on quivering limbs, she scrambled to grab her purse and dashed towards the exit.

To Heeseung’s delight, the red-haired bimbo wasn’t so useless after all. He now had a name: Park Jongseong.

Grabbing his phone, Heeseung dialled a number.

“Sim, for your birthday, let’s plan something crazy.”

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

The homeroom buzzed with chatter as students scattered to join their friends at the end of the lecture. While most were preparing to head home, you had to stay back for the weekly council meeting. With your head slack on the table, you shut your eyes and let out an irked groan, wishing you could abandon all your duties and just scramble home.

“Y/N, just resign already. You’re too exhausted,” Yeji, your best friend, called out, rolling her eyes as she zipped up her tote bag.

You groaned again, slamming your head against the table. “You have no idea how badly I want to take your stupid advice,” you whined, rubbing your temples in pain.

Yeji, her pink hair perfectly styled, retouched her lip gloss and eyed your sulking frame. “You take on too much for no reason,” she sighed, finishing her touch-up and patting your head.

“Can’t you loosen up? Look at me, we have finals coming up, and I’m off clubbing with Jaemin,” she gloated, her smile widening at the thought of her boyfriend.

Getting into the world’s best university on an eighty per cent scholarship was tough, but no one prepared you for the strenuous part: upholding those perks. Paired with a demanding course load, extracurriculars and volunteer work felt like a constant nuisance.

“I wish…” you muttered.

Knowing her best friend’s upright nature, Yeji shook her head in defeat.

“Besides that, I’ll be having fun soon,” you iterated, and Yeji instantly grew alert, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“You’re getting a boyfriend?” She gasped, grabbing your shoulders to turn you towards her in excitement. 

“No!” You dismissed, and Yeji’s excitement died as soon as it began, releasing your shoulders in frustration.

“At this point, I strongly believe you wish to die a virgin,” she remarked, running her fingers through her dark strands, her gaze cold. “You even rejected Jongseong,” Yeji huffed.

You winced.

It had been three months since you had been hit by a truck of feelings from the raven-haired boy. Three months of discomfort and pain.

You were introduced to your senior, Park Jongseong, as a good friend of Na Jaemin. The two friend groups had merged, and soon the initial trio—Yeji, Ji-min, and you—grew an acquaintanceship with their group: Jay, Jaemin, and Jisung.

Since you had been to an all-girls school, the first few months of interactions were painstakingly awkward. You felt like an outsider even in a room full of familiar people.

You envied your best friends Yeji and Ji-min for their effortless socialisation skills. Whilst they enjoyed trips and study sessions with the guys, you drew a line, only speaking when spoken to.

In the first year, you were constantly running away from this new world of discomfort. Jay, however, refused to draw a barrier. Like the definition of a headstrong man, he never gave up. Gestures like stopping you in the hallways to talk about his hobbies and inviting you to all his parties showed you that Jay was making a real effort at friendship.

All of it came tumbling down when he confessed to you. The friendship you treasured faded, and you both became strangers again.

“Don’t bring him up,” you gritted, your heart plummeting as you remembered all the distant memories.

You recalled that nightmarish day. You might take this to your grave but Park Jongseong was your first crush. You secretly liked him throughout the farce of friendship.

He held your bag after class, joined extracurriculars like the music society and learned amazing guitar skills. He took you shopping to destress after you failed your lab assessment and played silly nursery rhymes on his guitar to make you laugh. Everything was special until the last day of the second semester.

Jay had asked you to a movie, and as always, you assumed he meant everyone in the friend group, so you called Yeji and Ji-min along.

The moment he saw you walk in with the girls, his expression fell with dismay. Instead of speaking to you about it, he handed the popcorn to your friends and left.

You followed him instantly, but maybe you shouldn’t have.

“Jay!” You chased after him, your heels thudding against the pavement, confusion painted on your features.

He paused in his tracks and turned, his eyes darkening.

“What’s wrong?”

Instead of responding, Jay’s gaze narrowed, a strained chuckle leaving his mouth. “Don’t act dumb now,” he rasped, his voice bitter.

You opened your mouth to question him, but he suddenly stepped close, his towering frame making your insides queasy.

“It’s always the same with you. How long will you pretend?” Jay’s voice trembled with accusation.

“Do you not see me? Chasing after you like a fucking loser. I’ve spent months trying to figure you out. Stop this game of hide and seek!” He roared, tightening his hold on your shoulders as he stared down at you like a wounded wolf.

You felt so wronged and hurt, your throat clogging up with emotions.

Because Jay was right. You were playing dumb, looking past his feelings, ignoring your own to hide away. Your insecurities and fear of disappointment were louder than his words, ringing in your head like tinnitus.

Because you had always assumed someone as rich and well-put-together as Park Jongseong didn’t need to like a mediocre girl on a scholarship.

You felt that breaking his heart might save his friendship, might save you from the pain of losing his love. So you wanted to sever all chances before you even tasted his love.

“What’re you talking about?”

“Tell me, Y/N. Have you ever once liked me?” He questioned, his gaze softening as he held your face in his hands, his pupils trembling with need.

Yes.

Yes!

“No.”

His arms dropped, his gaze dull and empty as he stared into your tearful eyes.

“We’re good friends, Jay. Look, we don’t have to rush into anything—”

You felt chills run down your spine as he cut off your words, his tone sharp and damaging.

“Delete my number. Don’t ever come see me.”

“And if I ever accidentally find my way back to you, slap me awake like this again.”

He tore his arm from your grip and you two never spoke again.

And then a week later, he started dating your friend Ji-min.

“Y/N!” You snapped out of your thoughts, head swirling with flashbacks as Yeji shouted for your attention. “What fun were you referring to?” She shifted closer, curiosity written across her features.

You smiled, flicking her forehead away.

“Jake suddenly wants a big birthday bash for his twenty-second,” you told her, thinking back to this morning when he was talking over the phone with his friends, inviting them to his party.

Seeing you pass by, he called you back, his face glowing with excitement as he ended the call.

“Invite all your friends and their mamas— it’s my 22nd!” He roared, and you imagined he’d burst into a Taylor Swift, ‘22’, any minute now.

“Jake? He usually calls them juvenile,” Yeji giggled, thinking back to the time she had a fat crush on your brother and how she stuck to him like a leech until he shooed her off.

You nodded, rolling your eyes at your brother’s weird mood swings. “He wants to hold a grand party. You’re invited, I guess,” you waved her off, and Yeji laughed, her eyes twinkling in joy.

“Of course, I’ll be coming with my boo,” she winked. “Is it at the house?” Yeji asked, twirling her strands excitedly.

You shook your head, tidying your desk and packing up. “He’s planning it with his friend, Heeseung.”

Yeji gasped at the name as if it had evoked a cocktail party effect, her eyes wide as she held onto your shoulders. “That friend you had a wet dream of?”

Your jaw dropped, eyes wide in fear, darting across the hall to make sure no one heard her. “Shut up!” You yelled, your cheeks flushed red, the memory of your filthy mind fuelling your embarrassment.

Yeji laughed, a playful glint flashing in her hazel eyes. “What, did I lie?” She crudely announced, and you felt helpless, unable to feign innocence. 

The night had left you shaken up. The truth was, you had never felt this affected by a hallucination— imagination, whatever it was, it blurred the lines between reality and fiction. You imagined Heeseung fondling your breasts, kissing your lips. All of it was a newfound hunger.

You scrambled to call Yeji soon after to regain some composure. After a long discussion, her diagnosis was a ‘severe case of ovulation’, and she prescribed, ‘getting dicked down asap’.

After that night, you kept wishing for more hallucinations, but your brain refused to cooperate. You had to rely on a picture you had stolen from Jake’s phone of Heeseung in a black button-down with his legs spread apart on the couch, his lap seeming so inviting that your abdomen clenched with need.

Maybe, you were ovulating. But why was it so intense?

“You know, maybe you should shoot your shot with him,” Yeji suggested, patting your shoulder as she stood alert, waving at the man standing in the doorway.

“My ride’s here, bye girly!” Yeji waved, setting her already perfect hair for the nth time before skipping to the smiling blonde, his gaze practically shooting hearts at your friend. Jaemin grabbed her hand, and they scattered off.

You sighed.

Lee Heeseung, what are you doing to me?

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

Booming music drowned out any chance of conversation. Guests sprawled in like ants to a sugar cube. Faces glowed with joy, arms carried gifts, and gazes sparkled with anticipation as they searched for the man of honour.

But it wasn't the birthday boy they sought. It was Lee Heeseung, the man who had invited the entire university to his farmhouse. It was a privilege, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

During his four years at the university, he hadn’t spared anyone a glance—let alone befriended anyone. When news circulated of Sim Jaeyun’s birthday invite at Heeseung’s, everyone jumped at the chance.

Girls skipped lessons to find the perfect dress, while guys ransacked their wardrobes for branded watches. Curiosity grew almost sleep-depriving. Who was this friend that Heeseung, the man who never let anyone into his circle, deemed worthy of a lavish party? For weeks, the university buzzed with gossip and excitement leading up to this day.

Heeseung’s gaze was fixed on the main entrance, his lips pressed into a thin line. He remained unmoving as over-enthusiastic people rushed to greet him.

He knew the world like the back of his hand. They hated him and despised his arrogance, yet they flocked to him like moths to a flame. All he had to do was give them a chance, let down his guard and the world would surrender in his palms. But it didn’t matter.

As long as he had your attention, the world could be his.

Jake appeared out of nowhere, his arm settling on Heeseung’s shoulder, smiling as his soccer mates walked in.

“You’re ignoring the entire hall,” Jake muttered, his grip tightening on Heeseung’s shoulder to warn him.

Heeseung glanced at the clock for the nth time, his fingers tapping impatiently against his glass. He barely acknowledged the birthday boy's attempt at conversation, his irritation mounting as the clock ticked on without your presence.

“Where is she?” He questioned.

“She had a presentation to finish up,” Jake said, rolling his eyes. “She’ll be here with Yeji and Jaemin soon.”

Jake wasn’t stupid. He had once believed he was special to Heeseung. The notorious case of Heeseung’s egocentrism was a popular topic in the university’s hallways. Even his soccer buddies claimed Heeseung was a nutcase with extreme intelligence.

When Heeseung approached the basketball team and defeated Jake, the established ace of Seoul University, Jake developed a sense of respect and admiration for him. Despite everyone’s claims, Jake realized Heeseung’s issue wasn’t indifference or social deficiencies.

Everyone was infatuated, enthralled, and unequivocally aware of Heeseung’s gift; he commanded attention because he was extraordinary. The problem was that Heeseung didn’t care about them, and when people realized this, their fantasy shattered, leaving them scraping for bits of attention and bitter envy.

Jake knew Heeseung kept him around for a reason, but despite his awareness, Jake was willing to be a pawn if it meant catching Heeseung’s attention.

“Jakey Jakey— it’s your birthday!” Jake looked away, finding his best friend, Park Sunghoon, on the other end of the hall with a gift bag. Jake’s smile grew, and he signalled to Heeseung that he was heading over. Heeseung nodded, and Jake scurried off.

Heeseung averted his gaze, staring back at the main entrance. The delay grew unbearable, and he considered heading out to the parking lot when suddenly he spotted Jaemin and Yeji walking inside.

He stood alert, his gaze tensely fixed on the door.

He held his breath as you walked into his line of sight. His body felt the shift, breath quickening. His fists tightened, and his gaze traced your body with unfiltered haste. 

Fuck, that black body-con dress, outlining your curves, hugging your body like a second skin. His grip on the glass tightened. The dress revealed your defined collarbones, and the slit from the knee paired with black-heeled boots showcased your smooth, honeyed legs. Your hair was curled slightly, silky strands falling in waves against your cheeks, reaching your elbows.

Heeseung’s head throbbed as he tried to decipher his feelings. Seeing you walk inside with that dress made something rise in his throat, and it wasn’t from the alcohol. It was worse, mentally and physically damaging.

How fucking demeaning. He was a man who never felt the burn of envy, but a fucking dress had him feeling so weak—so horribly jealous.

He wished he could tear it off and burn it to ashes like the scorching flames in his own blood. He had planned this moment all morning, intending to walk up to you with a smile, but now he found it difficult to breathe, let alone move.

However, the world doesn’t stop. Even if he couldn’t move, you very much could.

Your stray gaze finally landed on the familiar figure, and you walked up to him. You still weren’t mentally prepared to face the man you had been dreaming of for the past few weeks, but you found it unkind to ignore him when he had planned this lavish party.

You smiled, holding out a small gift bag.

“As far as I recall, it’s not my birthday,” Heeseung finally found his voice, his cheeky comment making you narrow your eyes.

“It’s basic etiquette to bring something when you visit someone,” you replied a hint of playfulness in your tone. You caught sight of the gift display in the backdrop where innumerable presents were mounted on the table. “I’ll take it there,” you politely acknowledged.

You were ready to walk off, but Heeseung pulled you back, instantly grabbing the present. Taken aback, you opened your mouth to question him, but he ignored your curious gaze.

Everyone stealing reserved glances at the duo paused, their eyes wide, jaws dropped in amusement. Like a boy opening his Christmas gifts, Heeseung rushed to untie the ribbon and tear through the wrapping paper.

“Heeseung, it’s not that great…” your panicked voice cut through, cautious of everyone’s expectant gaze on your gift. The plea went right through him, and he finally discovered a small clear bottle.

You brought him cologne.

You had racked your brain for days on what to bring him, and you had decided upon a blackberry cologne. The succulent scent carried a sinful aura, an intimidating and enigmatic aroma that perfectly captured Lee Heeseung.

Heeseung ran his thumb over the label. Then he unscrewed the top and sprayed it on his wrist. As he brought it to his nose, his heart felt fuller than before.

He imagined you walking into a Jo Malone store, attentively trying numerous scents until the abundant smells overstimulated your senses as you thought of him. How long did you spend deciding on the perfect one? How long did he manage to fill up your head?

“It’s just a small gift,” you mumbled, analysing his features.

“It’s perfect.” He said it with so much sincerity, you had no choice but to believe him.

“Where’s my gift?” Jake appeared with some of his rowdy friends from the sports club, his arm linked with the ice skater, Park Sunghoon. He pouted dramatically, his bottom lip sticking out. You rolled your eyes at his antics.

“Last I checked, you asked me to buy you a Nintendo Switch as an early birthday present,” you replied. Jake gave you a mock glare. “That was ages ago,” he huffed.

Before you could retort, you caught Yeji's eyes from across the room. She stood by the bar, urgently motioning for you to come over. The alarmed look on her face made you excuse yourself from the guys as you hurried to her.

Yeji grabbed your arm with an intense grip, struggling to catch her breath as a crazed laugh bubbled up her throat.

“You’re kidding,” she gasped. “You were talking about Lee Heeseung!” She roared with laughter, her expression priceless as she turned to you.

You stared at her, confused. “What?”

“Y/N!” She shook you slightly, her wide eyes trembling with excitement. “You don’t know him? He’s popular across the entire district!”

Seeing your blank expression, Yeji took it upon herself to fill you in. She pulled out her phone and showed you Seoul University's popular forum dedicated to Heeseung. As she clicked through the links, you realised the man was practically the definition of perfection.

His father owned a large-scale pharmaceutical corporation, and Heeseung was the sole heir. Despite this parental security, he was at the top of his classes, captain of the basketball team, head of the arts and music society, and president of student affairs. By his second semester, he had already secured an internship at HYBE, a massive healthcare conglomerate—separate from his father’s influence. He was so incredibly intelligent that the college even commemorated his achievements with dedicated newsletter columns and interview sessions.

As you absorbed this overwhelming information, Yeji’s tone flattened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “But, Y/N, he’s known as a player,” she reluctantly added. “Apparently, there hasn’t been a girl he hasn’t had.”

You stared silently at the soles of your boots.

Of course, he was a player. Anyone would drop to their knees for a chance to be with him. You had read somewhere that gravitational pull was the strongest in a black hole, but science hadn’t investigated the world’s pull towards Heeseung. You had only met him a couple of days ago, yet he had already made you feel so unbearably enraptured.

Ruminating over Yeji’s words, you were speechless at your own disappointment. How could he affect you so terribly?

“But—he’s never had anything serious,” Yeji tried to console you, squeezing your shoulder.

Throat tightening, you attempted a smile.

“Who invited them?” Yeji's gasp broke through your thoughts, her mouth hanging open, eyes bulging in shock as she stared behind you.

You shifted, turning to see what had her so stunned.

Your jaw dropped.

In walked a couple, hand in hand, wearing complimentary outfits. A couple you hadn’t spoken to in ages, a couple that haunted your sleepless nights: Park Jongseong and Yu Ji-min.

Your frantic gaze searched for Jake, conflicting emotions swirling across your face as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. Your older brother stood inattentive, engrossed in a conversation with Sunghoon as Jay approached him, wearing a broad smile. You watched them exchange a quick handshake, Jake accepting a large gift box.

“Why would Jake invite him?” Yeji huffed.

You didn’t know—but a gut feeling told you this was meant to happen.

The familiar gaze met yours. He was now heading to the leather couch beside his girlfriend, his eyes trained on you. You offered him a tight smile, your insides trembling in growing anxiety.

Jay was stern, his gaze cold and disdainful. Whilst maintaining eye contact, he pulled his girlfriend to sit on his lap, his grip tight on Ji-min’s waist as she whispered something into his ear. 

Your smile dropped at his immaturity.

You had lost both your friends, Jay and Ji-min, because of your mistakes. You had avoided them like the plague, and something deep within you suggested that the mysterious rumours circulating around the university weren’t just random gossip; they were spread by someone you had once considered as close as Yeji.

Something more sinister gnawed at your insides. 

Heeseung.

Amidst the chaos, you felt someone’s piercing gaze on you. Like a magnet, you found him. Under the blue strobe light, Heeseung stood leaning against the bar’s counter, flanked by a few girls, with his eyes fixed on you, watching like a hawk.

Though he was a stranger—a complete nobody in your world—you still felt he was reading you like an open book. Anxiety washed over you, your throat drying up under his intense scrutiny. If your life was split into meaningful chapters, Heeseung knew it by heart, his gaze uncomfortably invasive, expectant as if judging your next move.

A waiter zooming by caught your attention, and you pounced on the opportunity. Fingers trembling, you grabbed a glass of champagne and downed it in one go, the liquor leaving a bitter burn in your throat.

“Y/N, you don’t hold your liquor well,” Yeji frowned. One drink never hurt anyone, and besides, this was a party—everyone was soon going to lose their marbles.

You turned away, grabbing another drink from a passing waiter.

“Y/N, stop!” Yeji warned. You smiled tightly, ready to throw more alcohol into your system.

In a flash, Heeseung, who had been a good fifty people away, stood towering over you. He snatched the glass from your grasp and chugged it down. You watched in disbelief as he slammed the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray, his gaze darkening as he stared at you. Yeji took it as her cue to scram, rushing to accompany her boyfriend on the dance floor.

Your stomach clenched with want. Even simply dressed in a black t-shirt and leather jeans, his expression sour, his appeal was uncanny. He made you forget the elephant in the room.

“So— he bothers you that much?” Heeseung spat, his voice low and venomous.

He had planned to watch from the sidelines. Jongseong’s name was enough for Heeseung to find sources and sniff out your past link. He was told you had rejected the boy, but that didn’t match Jake’s description of your first crush.

It didn’t take long for Heeseung to realise that you really did like Jongseong, your affection reflected in that picture you still chose to keep. The reason you had declined his proposal wasn’t a mystery either. You feared ruining a chance at friendship, and that conclusion made Heeseung sleepless.

Heeseung had orchestrated this party and invited Jongseong, just to watch your heartbreak. He wanted to dwell in the forlorn misery in your gaze, relish in the fury and hatred fuelling your agonised expression. He wanted you to shatter so that you were left with no choice but to find him. So that he could collect those shards and piece you together. For himself.

Yet here you stood, bothered and apologetic. There wasn’t one bad bone inside you, your heart pure like the sunshine that streaks through his curtains every morning.

“How do you know about Jay?” You curiously pointed out, folding your arms and gazing up at the man.

Heeseung flinched at the nickname. Tightening his fists, he responded with gritted teeth. He didn’t need to lie for this.

“Jake.”

One word and your face crumbled, your finger pointing at the blonde who laughed beside his friends. “Why can’t that idiot keep his mouth shut?” You complained, glaring daggers. You couldn’t believe your brother blurted out your business to Heeseung.

“Do you still want him?”

Say it.

Say it, and he’ll burn this place down, along with Park Jongseong, leaving you with nothing—not even a corpse to mourn—just a speck of remains and dirt.

“I don’t.”

His eyes shifted back to their brown.

“I just wish I hadn’t lost my friends.” You glanced down at your shoes, face shrouded in despair as you reminisced the past.

Heeseung watched the sorrow flicker in your deprived eyes.

This was simpler than he had imagined.

“Let’s get the party started!” Jake yelled at the top of his lungs, carrying a huge celebratory bottle of champagne as everyone huddled around him.

Yeji appeared by your side, dragging you towards the crowd where Jake prepared to unseal the wine, like a cake-cutting ceremony. From your peripheral vision, you noticed Heeseung walk up beside you—until everyone, including Jake, roared for him to come forward.

You watched Heeseung shake his head dismissively, but Jake’s adamant smile made him falter. For the first time, you saw a crack in Heeseung’s stern façade, a genuine sense of joy flashing through his expression.

You watched with intrigue as he stepped up, and Jake finally celebrated his twenty second. Everyone cheered as Jake popped the cork and showered Heeseung and Sunghoon with the essence.

Yeji over-excitedly gasped. During her overjoyed dance, she accidentally slipped forward, toppling her glass of wine onto your dress’s front. You quickly wiped at it, but the liquid soaked into the flimsy fabric with ease.

“Shit— sorry boo,” she cried over the music. You shook your head, dismissing her concern.

“I’m heading to the washroom,” you muttered. She nodded, unsure of your words, as the loud roaring and music drowned everything.

You slipped away from the chaos, excusing your way through until you managed to escape to the other end of the hall. You followed the dim hallway, the raucousness dissolving, as you searched for the nearest bathroom. You found a door at the far end with a staircase to your right and sped towards it.

“Long time.”

You turned, instantly freezing up.

Jay stood at the other end, speaking with his familiar calculated baritone. He stepped forward, watching your shocked expression morph into disappointment.

“Oh, seems like you’re not too happy to see me here,” he claimed, now standing a mere step away, his tone dripping with malice. “Is the princess running away again?” The darkness returned, his jaw clenched.

You gulped, standing upright. “I don’t have anything to say to you,” you told him, turning away.

A bitter chuckle escaped his chest. “Of course, you don’t,” he spat. “Now that you’ve found a man, you don’t have much to say,” he claimed, running his fingers through his dark strands, his gaze menacing.

Your throat burned with hostility. “You’re ridiculous,” you huffed. “Following a girl when you’ve already got a girlfriend—seems like I dodged a bullet.” You uttered the words, disturbed by his arrogant nonchalance, and instantly the atmosphere grew with heightening tension.

Your cruel words seemed to inflict some damage as Jay’s body trembled, his fists tightening in aggravation.

Because you were right. He knew it.

As you stepped away, all common sense evaded him. He grabbed your wrist and slammed you to the wall, a gasp wrenching out of your chest as he hovered above, his hands gripping your waist with an iron grip.

“I never needed you,” he whispered, his eyes wide and pained as you attempted to free yourself, but Jay’s grip on your waist only tightened. “I’ve just liked the chase. You were so full of yourself—so pathetic. Nothing about you ever made me feel something—anything—”

A bloodcurdling scream wrenched out of your throat as a shattering sound reverberated within your frame. Your eyes bulged out, heart trashing and body quivering in horror. One second Jay was standing, staring at you like a madman, and the next, he was knocked to the ground, blood splattering against your cheeks, staining your dress and skin scarlet.

Breathe. Take a deep breath. Breathe.

You plummeted to the floor, your knees giving out as Jay’s forehead and neck covered in red pooled on the ground. You internally prepared yourself as you looked up, staring at the perpetrator.

A dull void of a gaze, Heeseung’s hand was wrapped around a half-shattered bottle with its sharpened edges dripping Jay’s blood. Your insides clenched in horror.

Heeseung stepped closer as Jay’s limp frame scrambled to sit up, his gaze chasing the danger, his grip on his head loosening as he spotted the man.

“You—you fucking lunatic—what the fuck is wrong with—”

Jay’s yelps fell on deaf ears as Heeseung discarded the bottle and plummeted to the floor before you, his pupils drained of colour and hands trembling as he caressed your cheeks. His thumb rubbed at the splashes of blood, eyes wide with terror—a terror you had never seen. More than his own actions, his line of concern was the beads of red staining your complexion.

“Hee…” you tried to speak, your throat dry and lips quivering.

“It’s okay—you’re okay,” his voice trembled as he consoled himself, more than anyone, his gaze frantically running over your body.

What you didn’t realise was Jay reaching out to grab the loitering bottle. Heeseung’s warm gaze and words were so captivating, pulling you away from the unfolding catastrophe. Suddenly, the fantasy shattered. Jay smashed the bottle against the back of Heeseung’s head.

You screamed, your body jerking alert as you pulled Heeseung into your arms, sobbing aloud. Jay stood on trembling legs, glaring at Heeseung with a poisonous look before limping away. You tightened your hold on Heeseung, your body shaking despite his grievous injury. The attack was strong enough to lash out blood but not wilful enough to break the bottle like Heeseung had done.

You tried to pull away to check his wound, but Heeseung pulled you back into his chest, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

Fuck. He could die right now and he’d be happy. Over the fucking moon. He almost wanted to thank that low-life for brusing him because it worked in his favour.

You gazed upon him with sympathetic attention, like you were gazing upon a wounded puppy. You were finally in his arms, letting him envelop you. He inhaled the scent of vanilla and fresh peaches, his hold on your frame tightening with desperation.

He wanted to consume you.

“Heeseung, let me see your wound,” you softly cried into his shoulder, unable to breathe at the intensity of his clutch.

“It’s not deep—nothing compared to what that moron will take home,” Heeseung arrogantly claimed. His prideful tone made your insides hurl; it reminded you of the initiation. Heeseung had started it all; he had slammed a glass bottle into Jay’s head.

You pushed him back, your gaze stern as you met his aggravated one. “Why?” You cried hysterically, recalling the insanity of the previous moment. “How could you—”

Heeseung’s expression grew colder than ice. “I’ll break every bone he used to touch you,” he declared, the honesty in his tone sending chills down your spine. 

“You literally almost murdered him!” You screeched.

Heeseung cracked a deluded smile. “He’ll wish I had.”

You felt speechless. Utterly stunned into silence. What did that mean? You wanted to assume that his fury made him speak nonsense, that he didn’t mean a word. However, when you stared into Heeseung’s gaze, your stomach turned at the resolute darkness, his words horrifyingly blunt and absurd.

You were about to call him out when you noticed trail of blood slither down the side of his face. You gasped. "You need to get to a hospital,” you urged.

“And explain what?” He scoffed with a playful smile.

You felt bewildered. Of course, you didn't care at the moment! As long as he got treated, you didn't care what lie he spat out.

You glared at him. “You need to get it checked out, Heeseung,” you muttered with concern, noticing the blood kept gushing in thicker streams.

Wordlessly, Heeseung grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, and nodded as he pulled you to stand. You sighed in relief, grateful that he was finally listening. His grip never faltering on your hand, you both turned towards the venue.

Heeseung suddenly pulled you back, ignoring your confusion, instead climbing up the staircase. “What’re you doing?” You groaned, attempting to retract, but Heeseung just kept walking.

Upstairs, the living room was carpeted with posh couches and chairs. You passed by expensive paintings hung up on the wall as Heeseung took you inside a dark room, stalking through blindly until he pushed at another door.

Lights flickering on, you surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings. Heeseung had brought you to a bathroom. You glanced at him in confusion as he shut the door and turned towards you.

“Heeseung, what’re you doing?”

“You said I need to get my injury checked out,” he responded, leaning down and grabbing a first aid kit from the cubby hole. “I’m doing it,” he flashed you a clever smile, his eyes shining with amusement.

Even if you were about to throw a tantrum, you couldn’t anymore. Heeseung’s words, his eyes, his smile, everything was enough for you to sit still and obey. You watched as he stepped towards the large mirror. He casually tilted his head to inspect the wound.

Expressionless, he opened up the first aid kit, grabbing a transparent bottle and cotton pads like a professional, as if he had already addressed such wounds in the past. With practised nonchalance, he soaked the cotton pad with the liquid and pressed it into the wound.

You winced, instinctively jumping forward to grab the bottle from his hand.

“Who deals with a wound like that!” You screeched hysterically.

Heeseung turned, his brows raised, lips pressed in confusion. You put forward your palm, glaring at him. He surveyed your stern expression and, to your surprise, gave in easily, handing you the stained cotton ball without putting up a fight. You had imagined he would claim he knew more—but Heeseung just stared at you passively. You gulped, edging forward.

You knew the wound was deeply ingrained on the right side of his head, but reaching it was an issue. You were a good half a person shorter than him, his towering frame allowing you to reach only his chest. Standing on your tiptoes, you could only make it to his collarbone. You tried pushing up to reach the mark, but it remained physically impossible.

You noticed the amusement sparking in his expression, his lips curving into a gentle smile. “What’s so funny?” You gruffly questioned, and his smile only grew more.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, setting you on the cold basin. He turned, towering between your parted legs.

“There.”

You quickly recovered, ignoring the butterflies fluttering in your chest or the heat stirring from where he had just touched you. You reached up. The angle allowed you to address the wound better.

Thankfully, there was a single cut, slashing down to the nape. You held the cotton against the cut, letting it absorb the blood, and then gently swirled it across.

Heeseung’s breathing suddenly grew heavy, and you flinched, quickly scanning his face for hints of pain. “Is it too bad?” You muttered, your eyes wide and voice reluctantly soft.

He nodded. It was painful, so unbearably agonising like he was thrown into a fuming furnace, burning and dying, then reincarnating and burning every breath he spent in your vicinity.

His fists tightened, his gaze tracing your attentive expression, your lips puckered in deep concentration, hands so gentle, like a mother’s touch—or what Heeseung assumed must’ve been had he ever felt one. The past month he only dreamed of this moment—to have you before him, launched between his legs, attending only to him.

You cleaned up his wound with precision. He had practice, but your touch was magical—a healing balm of its own.

“Have you done this for anyone else?” His question came out gruffer than expected, his stomach twisting as he imagined you perched on a sink like this for someone else.

You finished cleaning up, moving to grab the bandage. “Of course not,” you huffed, peeling the bandaid from the wrapper.

“I just know I’m not supposed to stab wounds like that,” you sarcastically claimed, reminded of him jabbing his head. “You’re the future doctor… you should know this,” you leaned to the side, pressing the band-aid into his scalp.

“They teach us how to treat,” he stated. “Whatever gets the job done,” he shrugged.

You couldn’t help but grimace at his words.

“If you don’t treat with the element of pain in mind, you’ll hurt yourself more.”

Heeseung's throat was suddenly tighter than normal.

You wiped your hands with a tissue. Shifting closer, you inspected Heeseung’s injury one more time. You were about to get off the sink when you noticed glimmering bits of glass nestled in his hair. Impulsively, you reached out, flicking the strands.

“Oh—!” You jerked away, your finger cut by an unseen sharp edge that pierced the flesh.

Before the blood even oozed out, Heeseung sprang forward, grabbing your wrist, his gaze wide with horror as he impulsively pulled your finger into his mouth.

An astonished gasp escaped your chest.

Wide-eyed, you watched Heeseung suck around your finger.

At the first drop of your blood against his tongue, Heeseung’s eyes screwed shut, his body heating up, the metallic taste mixed with your skin’s sweetness creating a delicious buzz within his taste buds. Maybe if he drank enough, you'd really become a part of his being; if he fused your blood with his, you'd somehow become his.

He lapped at the drop incessantly, his hand reaching to lock your wrist in place as he covered your finger with saliva.

There was a shift in the air. You felt it in your bones.

As he looked up, meeting your eyes while simultaneously drenching your finger inside his mouth, your body began to heat up. A burn ignited at the centre of your legs, your imagination running wild, your limbs quivering.

Time became meaningless as he revelled in the euphoric bliss. When he noticed you weren’t pulling away or flinching, his muscles clenched with want. Instead, your cheeks were redd, eyes fluttering in bashfulness. Warmth in his blood shot lower, pooling within his sensitive region.

A thrum vibrated his own being as Heeseung popped another finger into his mouth, his sucking growing intense, lascivious, and hungrier. Your body jolted as his slick enveloped your digits, his tongue tirelessly flicking and tasting.

You wanted to intervene and stop this madness, but suddenly you couldn’t find your voice. Your throat refused to cooperate, and your lips denied any help.

His gaze was trained on your expressions, every blink, every gasp. He wanted to memorise the way your cheeks blushed scarlet and mouth opened in silent gasps. You were so beautiful, so perfect, so his.

“Hee—” you managed to choke out.

Heeseung’s hardness jerked in his pants, his body shaking with want. You had just attempted to say his name.

Suddenly, he pulled his mouth away and yanked you to the floor. You fell against his chest, your feet staggering on the marble floor, a stunned gasp escaping your mouth. He didn’t let you process it, his moves sharp and abrupt.

Your jaw dropped as you felt the tent of arousal straining against your abdomen. Your underwear was drenched, muscles taut as the reality dawned upon you. Lee Heeseung wanted you.

“Feel that—fuck—do you feel it?” He rasped against your ear, his hardened tone and body making you forget any coherent response, your body tensing up in his embrace. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful—stunning—so breathtaking. You make me—” His voice cracked as he felt nestled his nose against your neck, sniffing like a dog.

“Make you…” you pleaded for him to continue, craving his validation.

“Make me pathetic—so damn pathetic,” he blurted, his mind elsewhere as he sucked onto your earlobe.

His kisses ran down your neck, and he urgently flicked the hair away to feast. He pressed his lips gently, wanting to savour every moment and worship every inch, but within the first contact, his patience was out the window. He pushed his throbbing body into yours, knocking you against the sink as his mouth opened wide, biting into your flesh.

His mind fell numb as your taste and scent drove him to the brink of euphoria. He found it strange how you turned him into a quivering virgin mess with just this.

Your gasps reverberated in the bathroom walls, your frame quivering.

His touch was desperate, persistent like he was holding onto you for dear life. Fingers interlocked in your strands, body shaking with restrain as his mouth devoured your neck, you felt lost in a sea of pure bliss. You hadn’t had many sexual experiences in your life, but whatever make out sessions you had shared with boys in first year didn’t live up to this feeling, this hunger— from him.

“Ah!”

Every hair on his body stood alert. Your sounds were so pretty just like your body. He knew he couldn’t live without absolutely breaking your resilience. He had to tear through your exterior and drag out the vulnerable girl who moves to his rhythm, sings to his beat and responds to his call.

“Heeseung—Ah!” Your body tensed, his name falling from your mouth as his kisses grew frantic, prolonged. You were so flustered that you felt the world knock off its axis. You urgently held onto his tense shoulders, hoping you wouldn't fall over with the intensity of his want.

Had it been any other girl in his arms, anyone, he’d have thrown her on the floor and fulfilled his depraved desires. He’d have coerced her lust, used and abused her body like a mere object for his release. He wanted to do the same to you like he’d envisioned every night.

But you weren’t any girl. You weren't a momentary escape. For the first time in his life, he wanted it both: lust and love. He wanted to ruin you for everyone— not just physically but emotionally. He wanted your body and your soul.

And you were the sole reason he unwillingly held back, restrained his desire to rip you apart.

Breathless and flustered, you struggled to gather your thoughts. Your body was begging for him, but you couldn’t look past the reality.

This was Lee Heeseung, the hottest playboy, the genius, the most eligible bachelor in Korea—and most importantly, your brother’s best friend. You were calling his name so embarrassingly, and you were certain going all the way, he’d have nothing to do with you after tonight. He was like a forbidden fruit, so effortlessly desirable but never yours.

He will never be yours.

Your eyes burned with tears. You had managed to like him so much, and tonight it would crumble apart. Just the way you had ended up running from Jay, you should run from Heeseung before he takes your heart with him.

Determined, you pushed against him. The sudden move knocked him away, his reddened face twisting in confusion and frustration at the distance.

You quickly stumbled to the sink, splashing cold water on your face. Your complexion as red as a cherry, eyes shining, indicating hints of your previous bliss; Heeseung had littered red and purple marks all over your neck, his saliva still warming your flesh.

Behind you, Heeseung appeared, wrapping his arms around your waist. His eyes locked onto your reflection, his gaze darkening as it traced the curve of your neck. The heat between you intensified, his desire becoming evident as he pressed his aching body into yours. His eyes fluttered shut, savouring the sensation of your soft curves against him.

Embarrassingly, your abdomen clenched again.

“T—this is wrong. Stop,” you babbled, pushing him away, your dejected tone falling on deaf ears as he pressed into you again. “Heeseung—” You turned, using all your force to push him away. He looked up, his eyes clearly unfocused.

The bathroom was getting stuffy now. His unnerving gaze made it hard to breathe. You stepped away, yanking the bathroom door open and rushing out into the bleak room, your breathing unnecessarily heavy. Your body was aching with arousal, wanting to go back into his arms and give yourself up.

Heeseung shot out, grabbing your waist and jerking you into his hold, his heavy breaths lingering against your earlobe. You tried pulling away when suddenly he whipped you around.

With darkness blinding your vision, you couldn’t evade him as he yanked you into his chest and slammed his lips into yours.

The taste of cherries overwhelmed your senses, your body liquifying as he immediately plunged his tongue into your mouth, tasting you.

Every instant in his life had brought him to this moment. He knew it when he kissed your mouth, licked your tongue, traced your gums—he knew you were meant for him. Your beauty was his to ruin. Your taste was his to devour. Your love was his to take.

A strange sensation flared up in his chest, spreading to his heart. For the first time, all his medical knowledge felt useless—he didn’t even feel human because even they could identify sensations.

Heeseung cupped your jaw, his lips trembling as he took in all your taste had to offer. His teeth clashed with yours, and his saliva dripped down your chin, his tongue rolling against yours as he poured an overwhelming flood of unnamed emotions into you.

His erection pressed against your lower stomach as he kissed you breathlessly. Suddenly, he was tearing at his buttons, desperate to feel your skin against his.

His kiss felt urgent, charged with arousal. You felt like you would blow into tattered pieces with the intensity of his touch, his deprivation and lust. Your fingers ran through his tousled strands, clenching for semblance of control as he sucked the soul out of you.

Your lungs flared up in discomfort due to the limited oxygen supply. You gasped, pushing at his shoulders with all your strength. Heeseung’s grip didn’t falter. Your gasps grew more strained and alarming. Only when you felt tears blurring your vision did Heeseung relent.

Both of you panted like dogs, heaving breaths echoing through the room.

“Stop it!” You screamed, pushing him away as you blindly searched for the exit. 

Yellow lights flickered on, the sudden burst blinding you momentarily. Heeseung stood like a barrier blocking the door, his advantage clear as he seemed to have the room mapped out in his head.

Pupils blown out, he panted, his gaze clouded with the need to ravage and devour you whole. His undone button-down hung the shoulders, revealing honey toned chest and tense abs, descending lower into his pants. Your mouth dried up, but you forced yourself to remain unfeeling.

You voiced out, “Let me go—”

“Why?” He asked gruffly. His eyes locked onto your trembling orbs, his brows arching in frustration.

“I can’t have you?” He whispered.

His words were laced with provocation. He hadn’t felt such an urgency to ruin someone, ever. He ached to feel your skin against his. He was hurting to fill you. If you wanted, he would plummet to his knees, stick out his tongue and shamelessly beg, plead. 

You looked at him with indifference. “You’re my brother’s—”

“So what?” He barked, his abrupt interruption making your breath stutter.

He stepped closer until he had you pressed against the wall, his arms on either side, locking you in place. You hadn’t expected him to be this eager. Why did he care? A man like Heeseung could get any woman on earth. One look and they’d drop their panties to the floor. Your glare grew more acrimonious at the realisation.

You pushed at his chest, your fingers grazing his warm skin, lighting up fireworks in your system. “I refuse to be your one-night fantasy, Heeseung,” you stuttered, unshed tears slipping out.

The fury in his gaze collapsed, his lips parting in stunned horror.

This was your chance…to run free, to protect whatever’s left of your heart. Hastily, you dashed to the door, your grip pulling at the handle when suddenly Heeseung was behind you, enveloping your waist.

You screamed and struggled, your feet kicking the air as he carried you away and tossed you onto the bed. You fought against his manhandling, punching and pushing against him, but he just stared at you like you were a weak feline lashing out.

He let you burst out until your energy had depleted and you fell limp.

“You’re fucking joking,” he laughed, disbelief coursing through his frame. “One night fantasy?” He spat, his fists tightening at the audacity of your words.

You stared back, matching his intensity. “Isn’t it famously known?" You huffed. “You don’t touch a woman you’ve had once,” you snarled, your tone dripping with hostility.

That sent him spiralling. “I don’t,” he declared. He watched the spark in your eyes die down, tears running down your cheeks. You attempted to get up, but Heeseung dropped to his knees, his hands scrambling to cup your face.

His heart pounded so hard, that he felt its drumming within his entire being. “You’re not any woman,” his voice cracked, his throat tightening as he kissed your tears one by one. “You’re mine."

He hadn’t said anything more honest in his entire life.

Yet, you looked at him the same—awfully sceptical, disbelieving. He had attempted to pour out his heart, claim you as his, but you gazed at him like he was a liar, a deceiver. Heeseung dropped his arms, anger surging within his blood.

“You don’t believe me,” he declared, his tone laced with bitter sarcasm.

You wanted to so badly—but you had no reason to. Why would he fall for you?

You watched as Heeseung’s gaze frantically scoured the room.

Something ominous was happening. You felt your stomach twist. You called his name, but he turned away, dashing towards the study table. You stared in confusion as he grabbed his car key. 

Without any warning, Heeseung struck the sharp edge into his chest, stabbing himself in his sternum. A scream lurched out your throat, your breath stuttering as you attempted to get to him. He forced the key inside, tearing through the flesh in a line. Blood gushed through the wound, but Heeseung’s concentration remained firm.

“What the fuck— stop-stop!” You screeched, finally getting a hold of his arm.

He didn’t stop, still working on creating the art piece he wanted you to see. You felt lightheaded as you fought against his determined actions. Unable to knock him back into reality, you decided to fling at the key, letting it slip from his grasp.

Horror ceased your chest. The scarred flesh formed a letter— your initial. You gazed up at him, your throat constricting as a soul-stirring chill escalated down your spine.

“If I carve you in my blood, will you believe me?” A pained gaze, a torn heart, a horrifying smile.

Your limbs trembled.

You glanced at the wound, lips parting in silent horror.

This was absurd— absolute madness. You couldn’t wrap your head around it, but you knew it was awfully dangerous like playing with fire or chasing a lion into its den. You should be scared— fearing for your life. You should escape right now when you have the chance. You should run and never look back.

There are many shoulds' you encounter in life, but none of them hold any value when something as desirable holds you by the throat. Someone as irresistibly horrifying as Lee Heeseung. Whatever you did next, you knew your fate was sealed. Even if you ran, you couldn't outrun him-- and somewhere in the pool of longing in your depraved heart, you didn't want to. You didn't want to find a way out.

You leaned down and wrapped your lips around his honey peck, swirling your tongue and licking the scarlet oozing from his self-inflicted wound, surprising yourself as you swallowed it down. 

Life and death stood at a standstill. Had you pushed him away, he’d still have ruined you, broken your soul to pieces and killed himself over hurting you. But you chose to acknowledge, indulge in his pained longing, accepting it like a lover's call, making him want to live more— chase more— love more. 

Vision glazed, heart thundering against his chest, he wrapped you in a breathless embrace.

Amid the chaos, a strained voice invaded the room. “Hee— fuck, we’ve got a problem.” 

Your head shot towards the door, eyes wide with fear. 

Fuck.

Your brother was at the door.

A rampant knock. “Hee— you in there?” Jake's voice spilt into the heated room, your body freezing. Heeseung didn't even spare the door a glance as he pressed himself within your body.

“They’ve come looking for drugs— I don’t know who’s called but the police are searching the place.”

Your eyes bulged out of their sockets, jaw-dropping in horror.

Drugs? Police? 

Instead of concern or a slight hint of fear, Heeseung’s grip tightened on your wrists, and he attacked your lips, invading your mouth. You gasped, caught off guard, your jaw opening in a silent gasp. He swallowed your protests, his hands releasing your wrists to grope your butt-cheeks as he hoisted you up in his arms while sucking on your bottom lip. 

“Bro— are you seriously fucking someone right now?” Jake’s incredulous tone made you want to dig a hole and bury yourself inside.

Heeseung’s grip on your buttocks tightened, his groans purposefully filling the room like a silent message for Jake. His knees gave out, knocking you down, your body crashing into the bed as he vigorously unbuckled his jeans. His warm tongue feasted through your mouth, swallowing your complaints, his head lolling into your shoulders as he pressed wet, hasty bites down your neck. 

Another knock. 

“Fuck— Heeseung get out here! They’ve arrested Jongseong.”

You gasped.

What the fuck?

Heeseung paused.

Through glazed vision, he stared down at you. His lips slowly formed a smile that made every hair on your body rise.

Kim Sunoo had really come through, orchestrating a flawless drug raid, planting the evidence in Jongseong's bags and vanishing without a trace. Jay would waste away five years in prison for drug possession— barely enough to atone for the pain he gave you, hopefully enough to erase the longing that fucker held for you. Heeseung knew he owed his partner in crime a bottle of Soju next time Sunoo visited their shared farmhouse.

“Heeseung, we should—”

Heeseung licked your mouth, holding your trembling body in place, his fingers desperately tugging at your straps. Despite your persistence, he didn’t care for anything at the moment. Someone could tell him that the entire house was on fire or that the universe had collided into a meteor, crumbling to bits and pieces, and he’d still ignore it all.

For now, he will spend every second making you his—until his love is conveyed through his hunger, until his touch leaves scars and burns on your soul, until you love him enough to bleed him dry.

[gingiesworld]

Goodbye My Love

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x GN! Stark Reader/ Wanda Maximoff x Jarvis Stark

Warnings: Angst. Violence. Domestic abuse.

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @natleft (if you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

Word Count: 4.2k

18+ MINORS DNI

Y/N Stark had always lived in the shadow of their older brother, every accomplishment Y/N had received, he had to outshine them. Although the two of them were polar opposites, Jarvis followed in their father’s footsteps and joined the family company while Y/N found themselves going to UCLA on a football scholarship.Although they only missed one person, besides their mom and Morgan.

Wanda Maximoff was their best friend growing up, all the way through high school, she had a short relationship with James before they all graduated while Y/N met Christine when they were in college. Although they never truly loved Christine how she deserved because their heart belonged to someone else. So their romance was short lived and Y/N went through college having one night stands, no strings attached.

But the moment they came home, Wanda greeted them at the airport, hugging them tightly as she told them about all of the things they had missed.

“Who’s the lucky guy?” They questioned when they noticed the ring on her finger.

“Uh, Jarvis.” She spoke unsurely.

“How did that happen?” They asked her, trying to hide their hurt which Wanda failed to see.

“It was a couple of years ago, we bumped into each other and we got to talking and everything else is history.” She told them. “We also live in an apartment in the city.”

“Oh.” Was all they could say which caught Wanda’s attention.

“Hey, be happy for me.” She told them. “I love him and he has changed.” They just nodded with a tight lipped smile. “He really has.” Once she noticed they weren’t going to say anything, she changed the subject. “When will you know who you play for?” She asked them as they smiled.

“We will find out a couple of months before the season starts.” They told her, a smile on their face which she returned as she held their hand in hers, how they have done it since they were children.

“Are you excited to see everyone again?” She asked as she drove to the Stark’s Mansion.

“I am excited to see my mom and Morgan.” They told her honestly.

“What about your dad? I’m sure he has missed you.” She told them as they shrugged.

“I don’t think so.” They told her. “He never called or even said hello whenever I spoke on the phone with Mom and Morgan.”

“I’m sorry.” She whispered as they shrugged.

“It’s ok.” They told her, a nervous feeling taking over them as they approached home.

“Y/N/N!!” Morgan screamed as soon as they stepped out of Wanda’s car, running straight into them at full speed. “I missed you.” She mumbled as she hugged them tightly.

“I missed you more.” They held her for a moment longer before smiling up at their mom. “Hi mom.” They greeted her as they gave her a sweet hug.

“Come on, let’s head inside.” She told them softly, Morgan taking Wanda’s hand as she dragged her through the house. “Your father and Jarvis are at work if you want to go see them.” She told them as they shrugged.

“I would rather spend the day here with you girls.” They told her honestly, following her into the kitchen.

“He has missed you.” Pepper told them as they just scoffed. “He really has. Your father is a tough man.”

“I know he doesn’t care about me mom, you don’t have to sugar coat it.” They told her.

“Y/N, he loves you.” She told them firmly as they shook their head, a dry chuckle leaving their lips.

“He tolerates me, there’s a difference.” They told her. “He never wanted me to follow my dreams, he never thought I would make it.”

“He just wants what’s best for you.” She told them as they gave her a tight smile.

“I’m going to go and spend some time with Morgan and Wanda.” They told her, giving up on the conversation in regards to their relationship with their father.

“Hi, can I join you?” Y/N asked the two as Morgan nodded.

“But you have to wear a crown because we are princesses.” She told them as she handed them a small plastic crown.

“Don’t you have one with pink diamonds?” They asked her. “Pink brings out my eyes, don’t you think Princess Wanda.”

“Yes.” Wanda chuckled as Morgan swapped crowns with them. Y/N felt at home, spending time with the most important people in their life.

“Everyone has missed you.” Wanda told them as she led them through the bar, holding hands as she soon led them to all of their friends.

“Here they are!!!” Bucky’s voice boomed as he caught sight of the two. Soon wrapping his arms around Y/N and hugging them.

“We’ve missed you.” Nat told them as she pulled them in for a hug.

“I’ve missed you guys.” They beamed as Wanda went to get the two of them something to drink.

“How was life on the west coast?” Steve asked them as they thanked Wanda for the drink.

“It was awesome.” They told them everything from the moment they started their first year of college.

“You see if you’re drafted in a couple of weeks right?” Bucky asked them as they nodded.

“I do.” They rubbed their hands on their bottoms. “I just hope I do get drafted.”

“You were the best Wide Receiver our high school had ever had, you brought us to the state championships each season.” Steve told them. “We know very well that you will be picked.”

“You have always been fast.” Wanda remarked as everyone agreed.

“Thank you.” They smiled before they decided to head over to the bar.

“I'll take it, you know.” Nat told them as she stood beside them.

“I do.” They nodded as they thanked the bartender for their drink. Watching as Nat ordered a couple of shots.

“Why didn’t you ever tell her?” She asked them as they shrugged. “Y/N, you two would have been the perfect couple.”

“But we aren’t.” They told her. “I never told her because I never wanted to lose her. There was always a chance that my feelings weren't reciprocated and I valued our friendship more than anything else in this world.” They took one of the shots and threw it back. “But I only want her to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted and if that’s with Jarvis, then so be it.”

“I have to go.” Wanda told them as soon as the two came back. “Jarvis just messaged and asked where I was.”

“Did you tell him you’re out with friends?” Nat asked her as Wanda nodded.

“He said that he needed me home.” Wanda told them before kissing Y/N’s cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Sure.” They nodded with a small smile, they watched as Wanda disappeared through the crowd towards the exit.

“I really don’t like him.” Bucky mumbled as Y/N nodded with a chuckle.

“I know what you mean.” They agreed, thinking back to their childhood and how he would try his hardest to outshine them at everything, especially when it came to showing interest in the family company.

“Where were you?” Jarvis questioned as soon as Wanda entered their apartment.

“With Y/N, Nat, Steve and Bucky.” Wanda told him. “Everyone wanted to celebrate Y/N coming home, so we went to Jamie’s.”

“Wanda, you know what I think of that place.” He rubbed his temples as her heart beat out of her chest, her nerves slowly taking over her shakey form. “Besides, it’s only Y/N. It isn’t like they matter much.”

“They are my best friend.” She told him firmly.

“Stop living in your childhood.” He told her sternly as he gripped her arms. “You are 22 years old! You aren’t the same teen you were four years ago!” All Wanda could do was nod, sighing as he let go of her arms. “Start dinner. I am famished.” He told her before retreating to their shared room. Releasing a shaky breath before she headed towards the kitchen, she knew that Y/N disliked him for a reason, especially with how he has been with her the past few months. Although, that is something she will never tell anyone, too afraid of what could happen.

Y/N had noticed the past week that Wanda had been distant from them and their friends. So as they were making breakfast, they knew they would visit her.

“Thanks.” Tony mumbled as he grabbed a cup of coffee, barely sparing Y/N a second glance.

“I’m going to see Wanda this morning.” They stated as they finished their coffee.

“What?” Tony questioned.

“She is my best friend.” They reminded him.

“She is Jarvis’s fiancèe.” He pointed out as Y/N nodded.

“I know that, she told me.” They told him firmly.

“I don’t want you to ruin this for your brother.” He told them as he stood up, trying to tower over them. “She is a good woman and I am sure the two would be amazing parents.”

“I’m pretty sure that Wanda isn’t thinking of children just yet.” They reminded him as they grabbed their keys. “They are still young and they aren’t even married yet.” With that Y/N left the house, leaving an irritated Pepper to scold him.

“Please just stop.” Wanda whimpered as Jarvis continued to slap her across the face.

“Seriously Wanda!! Y/N won’t ever give you the life that I will.” He yelled before she kicked him off of her.

“Please just go.” She sobbed as she scrambled to her feet. Trying to grab anything that would help her overpower him.

“Do you seriously think I wouldn’t know what you are hiding from me, from everyone, from yourself?!” He yelled as he started to advance on her again. “I know about your feelings!! I know it very well!!” He raised his hand ready to strike, only to freeze at the sound of a gunshot. The sound made Y/N run towards their apartment, breaking in to find Wanda frozen in place as Jarvis was squirming in pain. They approached her and took the gun from her grasp.

“Run.” They told her firmly. “Leave right now!” They yelled as she soon snapped into reality.

“Oh my god.” She whispered as she looked at Jarvis.

“Leave! NOW WANDA!!!” Y/N yelled at her, just as the sirens were getting closer. Wanda left the apartment, running straight for her friends apartment, knocking on it rapidly.

“Wanda?” Yelena questioned tiredly as she opened the door.

“Is Nat here?” She asked as Yelena let her inside.

“Yeah, she’s just in the shower.” She answered, grabbing Wanda a blanket to cover herself up and a bottle of water.

“Wanda, what happened?” Nat asked as soon as she spotted the brunette sitting on the sofa.

“I shot him.” She whispered as Nat sighed. “I shot Jarvis and Y/N told me to run.”

“What?” Yelena questioned as Nat shook her head with a dry chuckle.

“How could they be so stupid!” She yelled, causing Wanda to flinch. “This will ruin their future, their chance at playing pro.”

“I don’t understand.” Wanda muttered as Nat grabbed her bag and keys.

“Wanda, stay here with Yelena. Do not leave this apartment until I say otherwise.” With that Nat left the two of them.

“Do you think Y/N took the fall?” Wanda questioned as Yelena only nodded.

“They would do anything for you Wanda.” Was all she told the brunette before putting the chain on the door.

“HOW COULD YOU?!” Tony yelled as he sat opposite Y/N who was sitting in handcuffs. “Your own brother!”

“He hasn’t been a brother to me at all!!” Y/N told him, just as angry. “Just as you haven’t been a father to me either!!”

“You’re lucky that I am going to let you rot in here for as long as I can.” He growled as he got in their face. “He is my son!!”

“Yeah, he seems to be your only child, the only one you care about anyway.” They remarked as he was about to hit them.

“Mr Stark, I suggest you leave now or I will be putting you in some fancy bracelets too.” Nat told him firmly as she entered the room, escorting him out before she shut the door behind her. “I need you to tell me why you did it.” She said as she grabbed her pen.

“I already told Captain what's her name, everything” They told her.

“Oh, you broke in to find him hitting his fiancee so you shot him? Not like you could just take him down with sheer force anyway.” She spoke sarcastically. “I want the real story.”

“That is the real story.” They told her.

“Y/N, I am trying to protect you and your future, if you aren’t honest with me, I can’t protect you.” She tried as they just shook their head.

“That is the truth, Detective.” They told her.

“Ok.” She nodded as she rose to her feet. “Captain Carter will come and read you your rights.” With that she left the room, finding out more on Jarvis’s condition before heading home.

“Are they ok?” Wanda asked as soon as Nat walked through the door.

“They are fine.” She told her honestly. “They are keeping to their story, so there isn’t much more that I can do to help.”

“So?” Yelena questioned as Nat took a seat.

“Well, Jarvis is currently in a coma. The bullet had pierced a lung, so he has had to have extensive surgery to repair the damage, but the chances of him waking before the sentencing is rather slim.” She rubbed her brow. “Especially since Mr Stark would want it over as fast as possible.”

“What if I confess? Tell the truth?” Wanda tried as Nat shook her head.

“That won’t work. Not now anyway.” She told her. “The media has already started to leach on the story of sibling rivalry. The press will be sniffing around the hospital, trying to get an update from the doctors or the family. Y/N is already moving to NJ Pen tomorrow morning.”

“So there’s nothing.” Yelena stated as Nat sighed.

“Nothing.” She told them. “They already have a weapon and a confession. Unless Jarvis says otherwise, then everyone will know Y/N to be the one who tried to kill their own brother.”

Wanda was beside herself, with Jarvis remaining in a coma and Y/N being in prison for a crime they didn’t commit. She hated herself, wondering every night how her life had turned into this.

“Are you ok?” Nat asked her as she entered the kitchen.

“Yeah.” Wanda nodded as she stared at the glass of water in her hand.

“Talk to me.” Nat spoke tenderly as Wanda scoffed.

“About what? How my fiancè abused me. He would hit me and call me names or that I shot him in fear of losing my own life and my best friend is taking the fall.” She spoke angrily. “I just wish I knew why they took the blame for something I did.”

“They love you.” Nat told her sincerely. “They have since high school. I can’t exactly tell you the moment they fell in love with you but we could see it whenever they looked at you. They would do anything for you Wanda and it shows.”

“But.” Wanda tried as her eyes filled with tears. “I never knew.” She whispered shakily as Nat gave her a tender smile.

“They never wanted you to know, because they thought you would feel the same.” She told her honestly.

“The draft was last night.” Wanda mentioned. “They never got picked.”

“Well, the managers would have gotten wind of the shooting and the trial.” Nat spoke honestly. “So that would have definitely made sure they never made it.”

“I hate this.” Wanda whispered as she rubbed her brow. “I hate how this whole thing has turned out.”

“You have a visitor.” The guard told Y/N as they kicked them awake.

“What?” They grumbled as they stirred.

“Visitor!” The guard yelled as they grabbed them, dragging them through the corridor towards the visiting quarters.

“Mom?” Y/N murmured as they saw Pepper sitting at the otherside of the glass, watching as Y/N picked up the phone.

“Why did you do it?” She questioned as Y/N sighed.

“I already told the police everything, I’m sure that Tony had already gotten a copy of my statement.” Y/N told her coldly.

“You know what I mean.” She told them firmly. “I know you didn’t do it, I just want to know why you are lying to everyone and putting your future at risk.”

“I can’t discuss this with you mom.” They told her sternly.

“Just tell me!” She yelled, gaining the attention of the others. “Jarvis could wake and tell the truth.”

“I doubt he would if he finds out that I will be serving time here.” They told her. “He hated me, he hated me because my dreams strayed away from what the Stark name was famous for.”

“You know that’s not true.” Pepper told them.

“You know what you just said is a lie.” Y/N told her. “Neither Dad or Jarvis attended any of my games to support me. They were too busy with something to do with the company. The only people who thought and believed I would make it pro weren’t even blood related.”

“Y/N.” Pepper tried as Y/N shook their head.

“Just leave it mom. Don’t come back here to visit, it will only hurt you more.” They told her firmly. “Besides, Morgan will need you now, more than ever.” She watched as Y/N was dragged back through the doors towards their cell, her heart breaking at the sight of the aggressiveness the guards were showing towards them.

Jarvis remained in the coma, even after Y/N was sentenced for 20 years imprisonment. Wanda had already returned the ring to Pepper, telling her that she was ending things with Jarvis, of course Pepper had no objections, knowing the kind of man her son grew up to be.

“Wanda, you need to eat.” Nat told her as she handed her a PB&J.

“I’m not hungry.” Wanda whispered as she placed the plate on the table.

“Look, I know this is hard right now.” Nat tried as Wanda chuckled lightly.

“You have no idea!” Wanda spat. “Y/N is serving almost a life sentence because of a crime they didn’t commit!! They are doing that for me!!.”

“Because they love you!” Nat shouted. “Look, I understand that this is so freaking hard right now, but they need us all more than ever right now. So if you want more answers, go and visit them!”

With that, Wanda knew exactly what she needed to do. Deciding to make an appointment to visit them, needing to hear the truth from them herself.

When the day came around, she gasped as she saw the cuts and bruises on their face. Picking up the phone as she reached for their face, only to be disappointed by the cold glass.

“What happened to you?” She questioned firstly making Y/N chuckle.

“It looks worse than it is.” They told her, a gentle smile on their face. “How are you? Nat told me about ending the engagement.”

“I am ok.” Wanda told them. “I am just worried about you and rightfully so.”

“I’m fine, I promise.” They told her as she shook her head. “I know being here is a little rough, but it is better me being here than you.”

“Y/N, why did you do it? Take the fall for me?” She asked them.

“If you had to ask me that, then you don’t really know me at all.” They told her.

“I do know, believe me, I do, but I want to hear it from you.” She told them. “I deserve that at least.”

“Wanda.” They tried before she cut them off.

“Just tell me! Please!” She pleaded with them, earning a sigh in response.

“I did it for love.” They told her. “Because I love you and I have always loved you forever.” She watched as they looked down. “I know you won’t ever feel the same and I made peace with that years ago. So please just leave here and don’t come back. Move on with your life ok.”

“No.” She shook her head as Y/N nodded.

“You deserve to live your life Wanda.” They told her. “Please just live it and forget about me.”

“No.” She tried once more, the tears falling as she shook her head.

“Yes Wanda.” They told her. “Goodbye my love.” She watched as they walked away, not even sparing her a second glance as they left.

“What?” Nat questioned as she picked up a devastated Wanda, listening to her as she tried to explain everything. The next thing Nat decided to do was get onto their lawyer. Wanda listened as best as she could before Nat finished the call. “They’ve requested for their own visitation rights to be terminated.” She informed Wanda.

“What?!” She yelled as Nat nodded, rubbing her forehead. “They can’t do that.”

“They can Wanda.” Nat told her. “And they have done that, we just have to respect their wishes.”

“But I love them Nat.” Wanda told her. “I do and I can’t go 20 years without seeing them or hearing their voice.”

“We will have to Wanda.” Nat told her. “It’s just 20 years right.” She tried as Wanda sighed. “Look, we can’t do anything Wanda, maybe write to them. Maybe they will read your letters but just respect their decision, that is all I am asking of you.”

The first year was extremely hard on her, she struggled to write to them, struggling to find the words to say until she just started to pour out the words that came from her heart.

Dear Y/N,

I know it’s already been a year without seeing you, and believe me, it has been the hardest year of my life and I know I have 19 more to go. I know that sounds incredibly selfish but I get to be selfish right now because the one person who I have always had in my corner regardless doesn’t want to see me, and that hurts me so fucking much.

I just need you to know that I miss you every damn day.

Love Wanda

Dear Y/N

I still haven’t received any confirmation that you have received my other letters, because I haven’t really received anything from you. I got myself a new apartment, in that building we both always admired when we were younger. I know it’s a bit pricey but I have plenty in my savings, and life is short so I may have splurged. I was also promoted at work, you are now looking at the new Head of Trauma at NY Pres. You always said I would make it and I did.

I just hope you’re ok and I want to know that you are safe at least.

Love Wanda

Dear Y/N

It’s been five years now. I have sent letters every week for five years. I have even tried to move on and I can’t. Well, I never really told you the truth, I love you. I am in love with you. I should have told you before but I was scared of losing you. I know that seems funny now because I have lost you. Well, it feels like I’ve lost you because you won’t talk to me.

I have lost the biggest supporter and the love of my life and that hurts. I lost you because of a mistake that I had made and you won’t talk to me, but I guess you have your own reasons for the distance between us.

Love Wanda

Y/N placed the recent letter in the pillowcase with all of the others she had sent, sitting on their bed as they waited for the food call.

“Who is this Wanda chick?” Brock questioned as he jumped down beside his cellmate.

“She was a friend.” They answered shortly.

“You have been here for five years and you still haven’t told us much about you, other than you’re a Stark.” He smirked as they shrugged.

“There’s not much to tell.” They murmured as Brock chuckled manically.

“That doesn’t sit well with me.” He sneered as Y/N shrugged. “You have another fifteen years left here, you have no visitors which tells me that no one really cares whether you live or die.” As soon as the cell opened he pushed past them. “Watch your back, Stark.” Little did he know that that was the last time he would speak to Y/N, the last time he would see them as he lay cold on the floor with a shiv in his neck as a riot took over the cell block.

AN:: There will be a part 2 guys. Thank you all for the likes and the reblogs, it means a lot to me.

[gachagon]

I love it when characters who were previously incredibly pompous and egotistical realize that the pedestal they've placed themselves on is actually worthless given the current situation they're now in.

Kaiser is realizing now that his idea of what it takes to be on top, to be the best striker is wrong and that it's probably been wrong for a while. And that's really got to suck, because while Kaiser has accomplished a lot of great things, ultimately his goal pales in comparison to the people he now has to go up against. Isagi and the other Blue Locker's aren't just there to rise up the ranks slowly, this is a last man standing program and Kaiser isn't strong enough to stand on his own.

He had become a great player, but he's not the best player. And he needs to be better in order to even have that position of acclaim in the first place. I am reminded of what Isagi taunted him with earlier, calling him a "Naked Emperor/King" which is an obvious reference to the "Emperor's New Clothes".

In that short story, a king orders himself new clothing that outshines everyone else and so the court creates "Invisible Clothing that only he can see" for the King. The king accepts the clothes and "wears" them, and so to him he is wearing the finest cloak imaginable, but to everyone else he is just a naked man making a fool of himself.

In a way, Kaiser ended up being the naked emperor in that he only came to the realization that his past achievements weren't good enough to stay in the team until this very game with Isagi.

I really think that fear of losing everything he worked for was always holding him back from really going above and beyond as well, because while he does have the support of a partner to do passes for him and he's able to read the field accurately, he doesn't take chances that tougher opponents hand him.

His backstory as a thief really puts this into perspective too because thieves wait for the right moment to strike instead of going out into the open to steal. And just like a thief, everything they get is "unearned" because they just take it from other people. In a way, you could almost say Kaiser's position as the best and the king was unearned because he hadn't actually done what needed to be done in order to get to that level.

And that's why I think this makes him so upset when Ness rattles off all of the thing's he's done, because ultimately none of those things will really amount to anything if he can't keep control of this team and be the best among them. It won't matter if he's scored a goal in every match, or if he's gotten offers from top teams, his goal is to be better than everyone and right now some dude from a no name prefecture in Japan is wiping the floor with him, and easily.

You really gotta feel sorry for Ness too, because he thinks of himself as one of Kaiser's "accomplishments" in a way, but Kaiser literally doesn't care about him enough. He just see's Ness as a tool to use, someone who's easily replaceable and loyal like a dog.

My moot (@miyamiwu) made a really good observation about how Ness might just leave Kaiser soon if he doesn't keep playing in that magical way that captured Ness in the first place, and I think that's true now especially since Kaiser himself seems to also realize it. When he's thinking about all of the achievements he could potentially lose if he doesn't win this, Ness is one of them.

"I thought I was becoming human." Is so sad too because I think deep down he really did think that by being close to Ness that he was truly becoming a normal player, that he was on the fast track to achieving his goals. But because he doesn't really know what that goal is anymore, the rug has been pulled from under him now and he has to literally reevaluate what is probably years worth of self reflection.

I also think this chapter is Kaiser ditching the rose as a symbol of his ego because he's truly looking back on things and realizing that the object that really gave him solace wasn't that symbol of the impossible, but the soccer ball itself. He is coming to terms with the fact that without soccer, he doesn't have anything at all, and that it is the only reason he was even able to get this far or have the courage to fight back against his abusive shitty dad.

Instead of the rose tattoo being here, we see there's a new tattoo that's prominent now and it's in the shape of a crown. And rather than being in a place where he's most vulnerable (his neck), the tattoo is on his hand, which I think symbolizes how he is able to take his own freedom and by extension his own place as a king with his own two hands.

Kaiser's solitude is something he really needs to become the best, because if he can't do it alone, than he can't do it at all. He is clinging desperately to the things he has managed to gather throughout these years, including Ness' loyalty and he's so afraid of losing even one of those things that it's making him a worse player.

However, whether or not being totally alone is what he needs to heal as a person is another thing entirely, which is ultimately why I don't think Kaiser will ever beat Isagi and that if he does it'd actually be the worst ending for him. Throughout this entire manga, Kaiser comes off as a really calculated person who's always thinking ten steps ahead, but inside he is just a damaged kid who is using soccer as his one means of coping with the trauma he faced as child.

And that phrasing "I thought I was becoming human" really just makes me feel so sad for Kaiser, because to him if he doesn't have soccer he is less than human and has nothing to give back to the world. He has never allowed himself any time to just be a normal teenager and just make friends in a healthy way, and the one friend he does have might just up and leave if he's not playing in a groundbreaking way. He thinks so lowly of himself that he hinges his entire identity around how other people perceive his abilities in the game, and if he's not the best at the game, he surely can't matter that much as a player, no matter how much Ness tries to placate him with words about how he's "already done enough".

Ego Jinpachi said it as well after Nagi made his really good goal, that some people are content with just being average and "good" instead of being great. And that it's because they're content with where they are in life, that they never advance at all. The idea that they are totally fine in their current position makes them lose the drive they normally would have if they weren't still thinking about trying to get better.

And Blue Lock's philosophy hinges on the player wanting to always get better and better and beat the other players on the field. Being "good" is never enough, hell being "Great" isn't enough at times, you need to be the best forever. You need to make it so that dethroning you is an uphill battle.

[greennlin]

pinky promise ?!!

ft ! : xiao , kazuha , ningguang , kaeya , jean

in ! : promises they make, and do they keep them ?

a / n : gender neutral reader as always. trying to set a good schedule and not post too, too much, but if i don't immediately write, i just can't.

fluff or angst, it's a russian roulette 🩷

XIAO PROMISES ...

... that he will always be there. he doesn't say it outright, but it's a pledge he holds himself to. be that when you call, or when you silently long for him in your heart, he will do the best he can for you. over the course of his mostly unchanging life, he will definitely keep that promise. your happiness, of course, is a priority to him. that priority comes only second to your safety. as soon as he thinks that you are in danger because of him, he will leave. but even as you move on, he does not, still keeping his promise to watch over you, always.

KAZUHA VOWS ...

... always to come back. long days in ritou are spent thinking about him and his safety at sea, and when he will ever come back. the crux crew sets sail every few months, but each time doesn't get any easier. kissing you one last time before he leaves, he always promises that he'll come back. you believe him, of course. you believe him, until the months he is absent turn into years. waiting at the dock for his arrival, he must have encountered a delay, right? he couldn't have broken his promise to you. he couldn't be... gone ... right?

NINGGUANG COMMITS ...

... to providing you a life of utmost luxury. what is the worth of all her wealth if she cannot provide for the one she loves the most? the tianquan showers you in gifts every day, each one more ravishing than the next. if you protest, she'll simply find ways to slip past your words, offering excuses for her purchases. even as you sigh and make her promise to cut back on the amount she's spending, she's already made the opposite promise to herself! but, she does eventually spend a little bit less on the gifts offered to you. keyword: a little.

KAEYA ASSURES YOU ...

... that you're his star. his shining light guiding you through the night that is his life. there is nothing in life more important than you, he says. he lies. you see him at the bar through the window whenever you pass by, laughing with someone else. you rarely get to see the calvary captain you were once proud to call your lover. now, he spends the days shut in his office, and the nights in the tavern. if what he says is true, and you really are the star in his life, then the traveller is the sun, outshining you in every way single way.

JEAN SWEARS ...

... that she'll take it easy. you're her lover, your words mean the world to her, they aren't just something she'll brush off. if you tell her to lighten her load she will try- albeit begrudgingly. slowly but surely, she learns how to fall back onto others. jean hasn't felt relaxation in a long while, the pressure on her always requiring her to be perfect. but with you, the stress of everything vanishes. supporting her from the sidelines and on the front, you're her everything, there is nothing else she could wish for.

reblogs appreciated! .. greennlin 2023

[azelmaandeponine]

I have to confess in the past, like... 2015-2018, I was one of those one of those fans who was angry at Ford back then, if well... the Book Of Bill helped me to emphatize more with him, I still don't quite like him, but since 2019 I'm not longer angry at him, but at least I understand him more. The DVD's also helped me to somewhat to undrrstand how Ford and Stan work and why they were written the way they are, so... also helped me to finally see them as who they are and in the scheme of things who they are and what they represent. You know, Stan represents the normal in Gravity Falls, whild Ford represents the weird in Gravity Falls. Of course as a show. So it makes sense why Ford by default outshines Stan, because wanting an adventure is something many want, due this we tend to take normal as boring and granted. No wonder why when Stan sacrifices his mind, everything feels wrong. Because, "normal" or "routine", is something we dislike grow up bored, but when we lose it... everybody wants back how things they were. But as soon Stan recovers his memories, the show feels like how it was back at the beginning of the show, like back as it was. Also, I'm glad of knowing that while different, Stan and Ford are similar, like... they love supernatural, but Stan gained a disdain for it, due bad experiences... I wonder if in the Stan O'War II. At times I imagine that Ford reintroduces his brother to the supernatural and stuff?

What do you think?

A lot of the stuff people were angry at Ford were...Ford reacting like a human being to stuff. Including being abused by Bill.

As I've said before, I'm a lot like Ford, so I've always understood where he's coming from. So I've always felt both Ford and Stan's feelings were valid.

It's not Ford's fault he outshone Stan; some people are naturally gifted and it's not fair to ask people to mute their gifts for the sake of someone else.

And more often than not, like in the case of Stan and Ford, different people are good at different things.

That's a really interesting take, and one I haven't seen before!

Stan and Ford are investigating anomalies, so they're definitely encountering the supernatural on the Stan O' War II.

[theoddest1]

with how the fans and even viv being VERY excited with the “visuals” of poison it’s was very clear that the intended purpose of having those scenes was for porn. Why else would viv be excited for SA scenes and make a cum joke? Not dismissing any SA survivors that felt seen or represented through Angel. I think the bar scene where Angel has a breakdown is good I just hate how they kinda swept everything he said under the rug for a musical, with the episode ending on a happy note and were told not shown that he gets better.

That’s why people kept bringing up moral Orel, silent hill 2 and tuca and Bertie as good SA rep because the abuse is NEVER shown were told or it’s heavily implied it was the aftermath that was shown, nurse bendy is hyper sexual in public but she secretly hates, is lonely and regresses into a little girl playing family with stuffed animals when she’s in her safe space. Angela is depressed/suicidal her only hope is to find her mother so things can get better but she never finds her mom and it’s implied Angela dies, Tuca and struggled with her sexuality and sexual trauma even feels ashamed about having intrusive fantasies of her abuser and thinks that after being SA’d but she is complete control of those situations and it’s her way o healing and even if she wasn’t SA’d she’d still be into those fantasies. It’s too early to say anything about Angel character it might change in season 2 and actually talk more about his trauma especially since the vees are gonna be more prominent (which I call bs because they said the exact same thing about Adam and he didn’t do shit, he only showed up in 3 episodes and he was so underwhelming plus he was the 2nd most powerful being in the show, idk what vox and Val are gonna bring to the table expect be stupid wannabe “mean girls”, plus lute is still around and she is by more powerful and interesing villain) but we have to wait and see, right now I’m indifferent to Angel he’s not a bad character but he’s not the best, sir pentious and nifty outshined him and everybody else, they were the best characters, and they were just joke characters

Viv is very, very obvious with what she seeks involving Angel Dust's character arc. She sees it as an opportunity to recreate a similar situation to Raph's animatic, a 3rd person view surrounding Angel's dilemma rather than Vox's. It's paraded around as though it's a tragic "Love Song" but there is no proper or meaningful way to convey the tragedy surrounding it all. It's an elaborate kink video for those who indulge those sorts of subjects. As you've mentioned, some other known media have handled the topic with much care and didn'tshow it, but this time around, this could have been a great time to make useful imagery to show just how awful the entire situation is. But we don't get that. All of it is glamorized in a pop song with neon lights and no subversion of one's expectations. The only time we are shown any blunt and saddening imagery is when Angel is passed around in bindage gear. The colors change and turn red, and we are faced with a strikingly blunt reality of the situation, but we then see Angel dancing in front of his situation, whiplash of the seriousness pertaining to it all. And while the pacing is better in this episode than most, it's still FAST.

So on top of everything we have a rushed pop song that's supposed to engage the audience in a mindset regarding SA to further think and discuss but it only aided in fueling kink culture and no one has had any strong meaningful discussions when it is about that entire sequence but the kinks sure are THRIVING! Imo, the fact that this side of the community got more outta this than those who love to discuss stories reflects on how unserious and sexual Viv saw it to be, and THAT is what makes Viv's shit representation bad. The remix only solidifies what I had assumed this entire song to sound like. It fails to be commentary, only fuel for a kink someone has, and NEARLY EVERYONE in the community is letting it slide cause of that.

[yello-123]

Something I am just beyond obsessed with this Shauna Shipman being a dog that bites (specifically the hand that feeds her), a violent dog, a losing dog, etc, whatever the Tok Tok dog trend is this month. If there’s an unfortunate dog allegory— boom she’s there. Shauna’s just got that dog in her like no one else before her.

That being said, my favorite one to dive into is that she bites that hand that feeds her. Any individual who shows her genuine kindness, care, and affection she both fails and hurts horribly. Off the top of the dome:

Jackie Taylor- Jackie adored Shauna. Just adored her. I mean they shared a lot of history and their relationship was complex and toxic, but Jackie doted on her and more than that depended on Shauna for emotional support, camaraderie, and idk homoerotic tension. When Jackie’s mental health and significance/popularity began to decline in the group she needed Shauna, she needed her best friend and Shauna refused her. Shauna, finally in possession of a role outside of Jackie (more importantly one that outshined Jackie’s) and weighted down by a guilty conscious, grew more and more distant. I mean that’s just to start, not even mentioning how she emotionally butchered (don’t get me started) Jackie in front of the whole team, led directly to her death, ate her, and then lived her life. How Shauna specifically “bit” Jackie’s “hand” just needs to be its own discussion so I’m going to move on.

Jeff— Oooo I’m discussing Jeff in a serious light the Yellowjackets police are going to come get me. He’s a more interesting character than most fans give him credit for— sue me! Jeff, although a cheating lowlife in high school, is a brilliant husband to Shauna. Like I dare you to show me a more loyal and devoted husband. If you do, I owe you whatever you want from Panda Express. Jeff knows everything that Shauna’s done and still does everything he can to give their family the best life he can possibly provide. He may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but the lengths Jeff goes to are astounding. I mean even on the mundane level, he goes to marriage counseling and puts forth his best effort to keep their marriage afloat. What does Shauna do to repay this care and effort? Cheats on the father of her child repeatedly and pulls him into her life or crime. Essentially it was like “Hey honey, I cheated on you then murdered him! Would it be any trouble to help me do a cover up?”. The man is literally willing to lay his life down for a woman that barely can stand him.

Callie- Speaking of the happy family, Callie may be one of the worst victims of Shauna’s hand-biting propensity purely because she was fucking child. Honestly, I’m surprised Yellowjackets hasn’t leaned into exploring concepts of mother-daughter relationships more because, I mean, look at the audience. That aside, we don’t really see it much until S2, but Callie seems to have inherited Jeff’s unearned devotion and loyalty to Shauna. Shauna straight up tells people that she doesn’t like her child and pulls said child into her life of violent crime, and her 1990s-all-women-wilderness cult shit. In addition to this, Shauna’s worst crime against Callie may just be the genes she passed down to her. Callie, a pretty typical teen, asks Jeff, “Am I like mom?” And soon thereafter we see her shooting a gun at live people. Idk the mommy issues go CRAZY. They also deserve their own discussion post.

Ok, this sat in drafts for like a week so it would no longer be "off the top of my head" if I continued. Other victims of Shauna Shipman's hand-biting habits are Lottie and Adam. Every single individual in this post (esp Lottie, Jackie, and Callie) deserves their own full explanation post and may one day get one.

[woneuntonzz]

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ 𝐓𝐞𝐤 𝐈𝐭

band leader!wonbin x song writer!reader

warning/s: cussing

genre: songfic

word count: 6.7k words!!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ you just can't call a spade a spade. ⭑♪⊹ ࣪ ˖ —the debt unpaid; inspired by Cafuné's Tek It. ✩🎧ᝰ.ᐟ

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The bundles of pillows of gas, outlined with the color of the sky, had been your favorite subject in photography. It fascinated you how everything else seemed to remain in their respective placements —the sun, the stars, and the moon— everything, but the clouds. 

Though you could never say that you favored it more than the moon. 

It somehow made you feel puerile, how something so trivial as moon photographs saturating your gallery made you feel sick to the stomach. You swore that you felt icky having mostly those photographs filling your precious display.

But why then? —why are your eyes so drawn to its shine?

Maybe it is for the sole reason of the void that it fills, even more so when there are none of its little friends —the stars— to accompany it. You hated that, though you admit that the moon is humbler than the spiteful sun. At least the moon allows for you to admire it from afar and closer whilst the sun denies you from it as if it's too glorious for the eyes of man.

You didn't love the moon, but you were true to its beauty and it's granted privilege for it. People loved the moon and you just questioned it. Overlooking its scientific significance, you just thought it put the clouds to shame. A moment would come where the clouds would conceal the moon, but despite its efforts, the moon will always outshine them, even more so with its light outlining the clouds and not the color of the sky that surrounds it. The moon is selfishly beautiful —well to be fair, if you hadn't grown, you would've never realized that the clouds were never meant to be focal. 

The art of photo journaling has been your passion for as long as you can remember. From a very young memory, you were a self-proclaimed photographer who held back a sour face whenever you were asked to snap pictures for your aunts who needed a picture next to every foreign sight and object they saw.

You wished you could just take the photos with your own eyes for even with the newest DSLR —at that time— you would never be able to capture the feeling of which the true vision draws from. 

Even then you were satisfied with your work, having experienced competing in national journalism competitions from middle school till your senior year in highschool, performing exceptionally well in some seasons and satisfactory in some, overall you were content with what you have and have not achieved. 

You never aimed for your name to be displayed all over your school's walls or for it to be countlessly mentioned by any of your teacher's before actually doing their job. You just wanted to bring your visions to life.

These visions would soon take a full swing to a different direction at the very last day of vacation before starting college. 

The sky had just turned pink. You felt so lucky, so intrigued with the seamless transition that had just occurred, seamless but conspicuous. 

With your camera in hand, you captured the pink clouds and the birds that flew along with them, the scenery of the park was just pure pleasure for your eyes. 

You shifted from place to place to take picture after picture of all you found worth your camera's SD card. 

You were taking a picture of the clouds that formed a subtle shape of two hearts. It wasn't your first encounter with such enigmatic forms, but this one would stick out like a sore thumb in your gallery.

Because right below it was an unsuspecting boy —well, he appeared unsuspecting at the very least. You took a picture where he looked up at the heart-shaped clouds, only the back of his head would be visible. The next picture was of him looking right into the lenses. 

Startled, you'd move the camera away from your face and avert your attention from the boy.

The once muted ambience of your surroundings would suddenly make sounds that seemed louder than they're supposed to be. 

You wanted to look back, to look at him again. 

His smile, his eyes, it all aligned with the hue of the sky and the sweet, sweet pattern in the clouds. This was the sublime portraiture that led you to where you are now. 

You weren't a stranger to Wonbin's appeal. He had quite a line of girls and boys who were smitten over him —and for that, you didn't even think of staring at him for too long, fearing that you might find yourself daydreaming, hoping. You thought you had zero chances with him, because it's him.

He's undeniably handsome, unreal even. He got decent marks and left a good impression on his teachers when it came to oral performance. He was in a school band that mostly performed worship songs during their youth, but would eventually resort to the more popular chart songs, censoring any words when necessary. 

Many were fond of him and just as much were jealous. 

“Good-looking, talented, and smart? there must be a jerk in him.” —you've heard from one of the many low-lives in your class that sat at the back. 

Maybe it was true. It was quite an impossibility for him to just be that good. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“What do you think of me?”

“Perfect.” you spoke, nearly spewing it as a question. 

“I'm not.” you laughed at him for wearing such a bashful smile as he replied. “I really am not.”

After that day at the park where you had accidentally snapped a picture of him in the most beautiful scene you have ever captured, you were captured by his allure. 

The way his hair danced with the wind and the leaves of the maple trees, the sight was all too heavenly. You were overwhelmed with the feelings that rushed through your veins, you felt like you needed to let it all out, one way or another. 

When you got home, you sat on your bed with your laptop sitting on top of your thighs. You stared at the loading status of your exporting photos that you captured earlier that day and a few days prior. 

Seeing his photo was all it took for you to start jotting down words, expressing how spellbound you are towards his presence. 

You hummed the melody you heard earlier at the park as he looked at you. It was like the breeze was singing for the two of you, and the sounds of the leaves that fell together in a beat that followed your heart's.

You were certain it was only you who's melting over such a small matter. 

Regardless, you wrote something, a poem. But you like to refer to it as your first song, and it follows the tune of the air that whispered to you.

“I like you, Wonbin.” 

It was scary. To remain standing there for what felt like a day, you thought you'd go home with red eyes and bottled tears. 

His hand slowly reaching up to hold yours gave you the thrills.

“I like you too, Y/n.” 

It was unbelievable, even for your friends. It's Park Wonbin, the Park Wonbin that could never spare people a minute of his time for insignificant matters, being too absorbed with music and the idea of creating a masterpiece of his own. He liked you? 

“You… like me?” you pointed your shaky finger on yourself.

He gently rubbed at the skin on your hands. “No doubts, beautiful.”

You would subconsciously scoff at people who called you pretty because people would often use it to ask for favors. You wondered, was this him asking for a favor? a favor to use you? to only want you when he needed you?

You wrote about these thoughts later that night, and that would be your second song you called 'Blissful but Bittersweet'.

These feelings would be subsided on your very first date. He took you to the studio where he and his band practiced and recorded studio versions of their covers that they'd upload anywhere they could. 

You two were the only ones in the studio at that time. 

For a while, you were both hesitating on looking into each other's eyes, or starting a conversation. When his eyes caught the lights of the studio and glimmered like fairy light, you couldn't look away. You had the tendency to stare and hold at the things that seemed too good to be true.

Just being there with him was all too good to be true.

He stared back at you, his eyes explored your features, breaking you out of your trance. And there he asked you what you thought of him. 

The way he responded to your answer made you think that he knew, he knew the effect he had on everyone else. But you hoped that he saw you differently, different from everyone else that blushed and gushed over him.

“I think your photographs are as beautiful as you.” he spoke as he set up the amplifier for his guitar. “It's your trademark I think.”

You were flushed, but even more confused. “What do you mean?” 

“I would know when a photo was taken by you.” His voice was like a bass line to a soul song.

It was true. He'd been noticing you for a while. He was amazed with how great your works in photojournalism were, he admired your passion for photography, turning even the most tragic elements into such beautiful imagery. 

Those things however, weren't the only basis for his fascination. 

He saw how diligent you were, how you seemed so happy and content with your school life. If it seemed as if he paid no care for the people who whispered for days and days with no end because his eyes would be darted towards god-knows-what, his ears were open for them.

The things he's heard being said about you were endless and repetitive praise, and some backhanded 'worries' they had for you. 

“I don't think Y/n actually has a life outside of the competitions”

“I know right, it's kind of sad. Must be boring, and her friends are no different. Might as well just be government officials.”

“She should let loose a little, maybe then someone would show interest in her.” — and quiet laughter.

He couldn't suppress a scoff, and later a rumor would spark that Park Wonbin had a crush on campus journalist Y/n. 

You never knew about it since you were out of the country for nationals, and when he told you, you had raised eyebrows.

It was only now that he could admire the elegance of your features. Your eyes and their unique shape, the soft curve of your cheeks and its tint, and your velvet lips. 

He had never seen you under a different light before, what he was seeing now went beyond what he could imagine. 

You would write again after that date, and this time you had an actual melody to follow, it was of his guitar's. He played a 'scrap piece' —as he would call it— and asked you if it sounded alright. 

He felt all warm and fuzzy inside when you enthusiastically answered. “I loved it!”

Your full voice made his heart bounce in and out of his chest. He thought, if only, if only he could incorporate your sugared voice into his music. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Are these yours?” you rushed over to Wonbin to recover your personal journal.

When you'd get it from him, it was turned to a page where you had written about your shared first kiss. 

“Uh, yeah.” you gulped when you heard his chuckle.

“You're a wonderful writer too?” you looked up, expecting to see him standing and towering over your very existence.

But he was just as flushed as you were. “They're songs.”

The luminosity of his eyes lit up the room.

“Can you sing them for me?”

He listened to the melodies you have grasped out of pure memory, memories you've had with him.

It wouldn't take a while for him to figure out the meaning of the songs, and somehow, he was surprised to hear,

“They're all about you.”

The feelings that Wonbin had put you through —without his perception— were feelings you have never felt before in your life. Having control over these foreign feelings, somehow, meant taking on new mediums of expression for you. 

You would continue to write songs about your moments with him, all the little and more. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were both in your sophomore year in the same music and arts university. Your courses had apparent distinctions, but you two would share the same few classes together.

“I feel like I should be taking Composition instead of Media Arts.” you mumbled at the top of his head. 

The lecture hall was empty, you two took your time before leaving like everybody else. 

He had himself in between your arms and wrapped yours around him, like how dubiety wrapped around your brain and made it ache for that cause. 

“If you feel like it's the right thing, you definitely should, right? if Composition would help you to a point in your life where you're sound and happy, go for it.” he says, looking up at you with glistening eyes.

Wonbin was always the one to be in your arms and would often bury his face in the crook of your neck, taking in the whole of your warmth. You felt like his sanctuary, and likewise, he was yours.

Taking you to the studio became a routine for him, as a means of spending time with you. He would practice while you watched as his fingers moved rhythmically in a pace faster than your heartbeat. 

And it was with you that he'd first share his own solos and ask for your honest opinions. You were in awe every time. You had nothing but compliments to throw at him whenever he asked,

“Was it good?”

“It's incredible, Bin.” 

While he practiced, you wrote. 

It was a whole other experience to have him play for you as you observed and take in all of him, taking note of his delicate handling of his guitar, the sweat that would gradually build up and stick to his hair, and how he'd close his eyes, fully immersed in the music. 

Music resonates well with the two of you, it's like your own language, the one you shared and cherished by heart, the foundation of your relationship. 

“Let me see.” he'd say as he rests his chin atop of your head from behind you. 

You'd raise your journal to his sight, and you could feel his smile as he wrapped his arms around you.

“You make me feel so loved.” he whispers as he places a soft kiss on your jaw before once again burying his face in your neck. 

You'd always run your fingers through his hair, telling him that he makes you feel the same way, always. 

You loved Wonbin for everything he was —a musician, your best friend, your boyfriend. 

And for a long time, he'd been the Park Wonbin who owned a band, and owned your heart. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Going forward, you would change courses from Media Arts to Composition. You were back to square one. 

This is where your heart had led you to, where he had given you his full support and encouragement. 

Your schedules would crash because of the drastic shift, but still, you found ways to meet as much as you could. There were times where seeing each other wouldn't be possible, so you'd resort to calls instead. You two would talk to each other until you could hear his soft snores.

And when he'd wake up in the morning, he would apologize to you for falling asleep on you and you would always make sure to tell him that it's okay.

He would later take you to the studio again, but this time, there were others; his bandmates. 

It was your first time hanging around them, but you thought they were nice. The teasing was something you were never going to get used to, but Wonbin was relieved to have you by his side. 

He kept you close to him as he practiced, he took more breaks than retakes. He kept making mistakes at different points of their practice and would call for a break everytime —and each time, he went and sat next to you, laying his head on your shoulder as you delved your fingers in his hair. 

“Hey, Bin, you should really focus on your practice. This is for the finals —and I know you're tired, but your bandmates are tired too.” you whispered ever so softly into his ear.

It soothed him, and so he took a deep breath. “I will, starting this very minute.” He sits up and looks at you. He cups your face with his hands and leaves a kiss on your lips and on your forehead. “I just missed you so, so much.”

He goes back to practice, and he listens to you. He fixed himself up and focused. By the end of it they were able to finish practicing three songs.

He took you home to your dorm room, and asked if he could stay. Of course you could not reject him. You two would be all up on each other, all night.

Unfortunately for him, the next day won't be as pleasant as expected.

“Our bassist left.” He got up from your bed and stood near the edge, looking and scrolling on his phone. “That motherfucker.”

Your eyes widened. It wasn't that you've never heard him curse, it's his tone. It was frightening. You knew it wasn't for you —and hoped it would never be— but it made you think of the worse, what could be, and what would be.

“Where are we gonna find a fucking bassist? the competition is in three days.” he threw his head back as he ran his hand through his hair, clasping onto its ends out of disappointment and frustration. “That fucking asshole.” he muttured under his breath.

He turned to look at you, and he wished he shouldn't have. 

You had the face of an angel, and that angel, now, appears to be bewildered, petrified even. 

He sighed, bringing his eyes to the side. He stood there for a couple more seconds before he got his stuff, getting ready to leave.

“I'll go. I'm sorry Y/n, but I won't be around until I find a bassist that's competent.” he bluntly says before leaving, not shutting the door behind him —for he was afraid that if he did, he'd do it too hard and make you feel bad for it. 

You would go on for days without contact. You tried messaging him, but he left you on read. He would reply 16 hours later with: sorry y/n, we're really struggling here.

You stared at his message for hours. You didn't want to respond, so as to not further disturb him. After a few more hours, you'd receive a call from him.

“Bin?” you softly called for him as soon as you picked up.

“We found a bassist. We're practicing real hard since we really need to get it together. We're finished now, but we'll be back in the studio in a few hours. The bassist —she's great.” you nodded to yourself as you listened to him.

You didn't want to be that type of girlfriend, but you badly wanted to ask who this 'she' is. “Oh, who is she?”

“A freshman —so, how have you been?” Wonbin seemed to be speaking a little faster than normal.

You started to wonder whether he even truly wanted to talk to you in the first place. It took you a while to reply to him, you were once again stuck with such overwhelming feelings, having the need to jot them all down.

“Y/n?” 

“Bin—”

“You must be tired. Let's talk tomorrow, yeah? I'll call you when I wake up. Rest, beautiful.” 

Your eyes paced around everywhere. “I'm sorry Bin.”

“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for. If anything, it's me who should be sorry.” he remained quiet for a while and you could slightly hear his breathing.

“Goodnight Bin. Please sleep well.” the hand that held his phone trembled slightly at the dim symphony of your voice. 

“Goodnight Y/n.” he weakly replied before letting you go and ending the call.

On your bed, you lie on your back, eyes wandering the ceiling as if there were more to the tiny cracks and the dormant light bulb. Unable to bring yourself to a slumber, you got up and went to your desk. 

You laid out your journal, opening to a fresh page. You let the tip of your pen hover over it for a few minutes, before you let it all go. 

We started off in such a nice place,

We were talking the same language.

A teardrop would make its way onto the paper, causing the ink of your pen to smudge.

You weren't meant to finish this song just yet.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was finally the day of the competition you've long awaited. You hurried to the front seats, excited to see him perform, to hear his fervent voice, excited to just be able to see him again.

When there were others performing onstage, you tried peeping at the back, or somewhere behind the stage where you'd spot him. You were never able to, not until they were up next. 

He saw you and waved. You waved back, hesitant as their new bassist appeared beside him. 

They looked… perfect.

You zoned out. Your head would start blocking off the music, and all you could hear was your weak heart. You felt conflicted, the first time it palpated like this, it was for good reason, but now, it seems to be the opposite. 

When it was their turn to perform, you watched as they exchanged looks. Their charisma shook your core, and suddenly, you hated yourself for not knowing how to play bass.

You watched, and Wonbin would lay his eyes on you as he sang —but it within a span of a few seconds he fixed his gaze on the bassist, as they once again gave each other looks that made you sink into your seat. 

After their performance, you would find yourself clapping, standing up like everyone else, the only difference being that you were crying. Wonbin saw, but he couldn't tell if they were tears of joy or something else. 

They would be announced champions by the end of the day, and you couldn't be more proud. Wonbin would find you in the crowd, smiling as he slightly waved the trophy in his hand. You smiled back, just happy with what he's achieved. But you couldn't help but notice that something in the air was changing.

Later that night, Wonbin took you with him to their celebratory dinner. He held your hand tight, caressing your skin with his thumb as you both entered the restaurant. 

His bandmates were already seated nicely and the only seats left were ones next to their drummer, and the other, next to the bassist. When they saw you, their bassist would move next to the drummer, and Wonbin would sit across from her, with you next to him.

You were happy that they were all happy, and while eating, you would get over your thoughts from earlier. 

Your smile would slowly dissipate into the unmindful air feeling Wonbin's grasp becoming looser and looser as time flew by.

You looked over to him, and you saw the sweetest and most seraphic smile you've ever seen him wear. It was just a shame that it was not because of you. 

You grew insecure in your seat, the space you occupied shrinked by the second as you watched how differently their eyes reacted to one another —how different it was compared to how he looked at you. 

“Bin, I need to go home.” you touched his shoulder to get his attention.

He quickly turned his head to look at you. “Oh, I'll take you home—”

“No.” You spoke a little louder than intended. “Sorry, no need. I'll get going now, I have things to finish.” 

You stood up, expecting him to grab your hand to stop you as you walked away towards the exit. But he didn't. 

Were you asking for too much now? or are you just not enough anymore? 

You took slow and miniscule steps, waiting for a taxi to pass by. Once it did, you got in, feeling so dejected that your voice cracked when you gave the taxi driver the address to your dorms. 

Maybe you were overthinking things. Maybe you're just not used to him being as smiley and as lively as he was around other girls that weren't you. It had been like that since the beginning of your relationship, and yet you felt as if you had no right to doubt him.

By the end of the day, you'd be back at your desk, tear-filled, feebly writing down,

You can't stand the thought,

Of a real beating heart you'd be holding...

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Y/n! we got a record deal!” 

The thrill, the excitement, it all rushed through Wonbin, in his blood. He had called you early in the morning after receiving a call from a recording label.

“That's great, Bin.” Wonbin's smile would die out with the tone of your voice.

“Hey, are you okay?” he suddenly thought about the previous night with you, two nights ago.

“Yeah. I've just been really busy. Congrats Bin!” he bit his bottom lip, staring into nothing feeling your frailty.

“I'm coming to visit you.” he says nonchalantly.

“You don't have to Bin, I'm really b—”

“I can help—”

“Wonbin.” —silence.

You never called him 'Wonbin' throughout the entirety of your relationship, even when the two of you would argue. It left a stinging pain in his heart. “Y/n.”

“I'm sorry Bin. I know you have your own stuff going on so would you please jus—”

“Was this about the other night?” despite your efforts to respond, not a single word came out of you. “Look, I don't even know why you left, why don't you communicate things with me anymore?”

Fear. You feared this tone of his that you never thought he'd take out on you. You feared the eyes you could not see, glaring at your phantom in his studio. You feared his heart, his heart that would no longer yearn for you even if you called for him. You feared losing him.

“Y/n, speak to me. Please.” urgency was apparent in his voice, but you could also hear his disappointment.

“How? Tell me how, Wonbin.” you would break as his name fell off your lips, your tears falling down to your blanket that reeks of his scent. “I don't fucking know how, okay?”

From this moment on, you were able to see just how flawed your relationship truly is. Behind all the affections, you two were just too different. Sometimes, different can be good —there's a thing they call 'opposites attract'— but sometimes, people don't need different. 

It was not that the two of you stray far from each other's passions, heck, it was your passion that brought the two of you together. But rather, it was your values that contrasted with each other. 

He thought you were just as infatuated as he was, all the while you were thinking that you were all he needed.

Yes, he was the most comfortable with you, but his happiness was not you. He felt relieved by your touch, your voice —but he would never admit that that is all it was for him, a sense of relief and nothing more. 

He was thankful for everything you've given him, all the comfort, the nagging for him to take care of himself, the photos you've taken of him and hung on your little cork board, and the songs. He was genuinely touched and couldn't believe that you could get any more incredible than you already were. 

Unfortunately, you thought more of him, memorizing every bit of him, his physique and his very psyche. 

You two would resolve your argument, temporarily. 

He would begin to visit you again regularly, and take you to their studio, a new one, one that would be in a bigger building. And just like that building, everything was different. 

Your whole life, you've learned to fight change, to adapt with ease, but this was one you did not want to adapt into. It was one you wanted to escape.

You missed the way his fingers would play with the shorter strands if your hair that rested at the sides of your head as he rests himself on you. You missed the warmth in his voice, and now it was all fading into nothing. That fire in your hearts that you lit up for each other, it was slowly dying out. 

It was painful to be aware when you were still so in love, when you still saw the same Wonbin that one fateful day at the park. 

You knew that he knew. During his visits to your dorm room, he'd often doze off, and would lazily leave sloppy kisses to your lips, that would slowly become light pecks on your cheek, and soon nothing. 

When he took you to his studio, he would be practicing, and she'd be there too. You would be in your own little corner, writing your songs. 

“Hi Y/n, what are you up to in there?” she would ask, peeking at your journal.

“Oh, I'm writing songs.” she was a nice person, but she was also the reason for the falling out of your relationship, it was crystal-clear.

“You should seriously consider showing some to the producers around here. I feel like they'd love your work.” as nice as she sounded, you felt sick in the stomach, just like how those stupid moon photographs made you feel.

She and Wonbin, they were both like the moon, just letting others take in all of their physiognomy, all of their beauty. They remain unmoved, as if they're the pillar to everybody's constancy. 

They fit each other. —you thought to yourself as you kept writing.

I never could rely on you,

And a few times your face came into view, 

Into view.

I'm not into you,

Into you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It's been a good while since you've cut ties with him. You found it amusing how surprised he was with how you responded to his notion.

“I don't think we should continue being together, Y/n.” he blinked a few times, not having the heart to look into your eyes like he used to anymore.

“Yeah, I know.” you were so blunt with everything that he couldn't believe that it was really you who was speaking to him. “I'll bring you the stuff you left at my dorm. I'll just leave it here.”

You were in their studio, where he had asked you to meet him.

“I could just get it myself—”

“I'll spare you the trouble Wonbin.” you were so cold, it sent shivers down his spine. You were no longer the intelligent and timid girl he knew. “It's great to know you've been feeling the same way all along, if not, I would've felt bad for ever doubting you.”

A single tear would escape his eye, and he'd wipe it away before you could see it. 

“Thank you for…” you fished for his gaze, and you would catch it like never before. “...everything.”

You went out of their studio and started making your way out of the building with your journal in hand. 

The journal. It was full of him. From polaroids and sketches, to the lyrics that brought you to where you are. 

You were glad he finally came to his senses, that he was the one to break it up. If he never did, it would've taken you ages to blurt it out, or maybe you never would've done it. 

As your feet followed the same path you took going in, you could feel the hot tears flowing continuously. The last you would see as you stepped out of the building was her. Worry was written all over her face as she called for you once, twice. You looked back at her for an agonizing and very few seconds before completely turning your back from her.

That day was excruciating for you. You could only imagine, he already had her to comfort him, and you? you were still in the same spot, pouring all of your feelings out into a song. 

After a few lengthy months of practicing with your guitar, you were able to make a full song.

You recorded it within the confines of your dorm room. You were again satisfied with your work. It was a simple, homey video. Your voice was as soft as the clouds, and your presence was like that of the sun, bright, shining against the woe of your heart.

You posted the video to YouTube, even providing them with the lyrics you've put your whole heart into in the description box. 

At first, you didn't really think you'd get as much as fifty views, three likes and maybe one petty dislike. Either way, you didn't really care. It was the least of your worries at the time. 

You were planning to move back to Media Arts, in spite of him. You moved courses because of him, and now you are moving back another step for it. 

Though, your plans would be halted when you were approached by a deceptive man —what made him deceptive? you may ask, well, you would've never thought that this man worked for the same recording label that your ex was in.

“What do you want?” you spat.

“Okay, miss. I'm Jung-Sung-Chan. I've been in the xxxx label for two years now. So, I saw your song—”

“And what about it?” your voice was stern, and it seemed as though it was atypical for him as it did not match your appearance at all.

“So, there's this band, don't know if you've heard of them—”

“Is it 'Everiizing'?” he was flabbergasted with how you just kept cutting him off when he was supposedly the one to be intimidating you.

“Uh, yeah.”

He would go on to explain how the band had been struggling to come up their next hit single and they needed it by the end of the month. You told him off by saying that you'd think about it, and think about it, you did. 

It was quite funny, Wonbin would be the one singing since he was the vocal of the band, and he would be singing a song that you wrote and composed about him and the fallout of your relationship.

But you also thought, maybe this was a start for your own career. Maybe after this, you'd be a well known song writer, credited in every hit song in the charts. 

You would call Sungchan back and tell him you've made up your mind.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

So I started to think 'bout the plans I made,

The debt unpaid.

And you just can't call a spade a spade.

Wonbin read through the lyrics of their supposed upcoming single. He couldn't help but feel… familiar. The style of writing, the choice of words, he feels like he'd seen it all before, and he'd felt it all once upon a time. 

“The writer is Y/s/n Y/n.” Wonbin's breath hitched, very subtly that he was the only one that heard. “I saw her on YouTube —that's where we discovered that song. She agreed to sell it to us.”

“The song is on YouTube?” Wonbin asked as he grabbed his phone from the table in front of him.

“Yeah, that's what I said.”

He searched for your name, and there it was. He hurriedly tapped on your video, and watched, and listened. 

You never changed in his eyes. You were still as mesmerizing as you were when he could still have you in his embrace, or when you'd massage his hair.

“So what do you think?” he ignored Sungchan and kept his eyes and ears on his phone, following every note and every strum. 

“Wonbin?” —for a minute, he thought it was you who called for his name, but then he looked up.

“Paige.” he responds to their bassist. 

“I listened to Y/n's song. It's really a masterpiece, I say we try recording it now.” Paige, with pure excitement, would cling onto Wonbin, and he would look at her the way you would want him to look at you.

Sungchan knew, because you had told him everything. It was weird to tell a stranger about these things, but if he was buying your song, he should at least know the story behind it, right?

That day, Wonbin would record his vocals for the song, and Sungchan would be there to monitor. Wonbin seemed so emotional. He must've realized what the lyrics truly meant, and it punched him right in his guts. 

This is all she's been feeling huh —he uttered in his mind as he fought back his sorrow.

Sungchan had spared you the details of everything that went down in the recording, and soon they would release their own version of the song, and it would be theirs.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“...we have 'Everiizing', to perform their new hit single, 'Tek It'!”

You were once again, at the same seat you'd always be when he performed, but this time, you were happy. It was your creation being recognized and loved by many. Its story will remain in your memories forever, but it will never cause resentment.

You couldn't help but smile and just enjoy the music. They were the same —if not better than before. Wonbin and Paige were truly a different story. They seem to be doing great. You had no idea if they actually got together, but you didn't care. 

There was a lingering feeling for sure, but it would fall weak knowing that you have a line of opportunities ahead of you, and so did Wonbin and his band.

After their performance he would go on to acknowledge your presence, giving you credit for writing and composing such a beautiful song, though of course, he would never say you were his ex and you wrote it about him.

You two would meet again backstage, for the first time in almost a year.

“Y/n.” you smiled, not for the same reason as you would with him, it was because he failed to have the same effect on you as he did before, and it brought your mind to peace.

“Wonbin.” he would smile back, but it was quite not like himself.

He was a lot more tentative. “I'm guessing you've been well.”

You nod at him and say, “I could say the same about you.”

“So, will you continue to work under xxxx?” he asked hesitantly.

“You know I would never do that even if things ended a little better.” he would drop his smile as he listened to you speak. “I'm moving to Sungchan's label. He's starting one of his own. Might consider being an artist myself, but for now I'll finish my studies.”

Wonbin was once again fascinated with your strong will, it was something he thought he could learn from you, but as soon as forever was promised, it would disintegrate right before your eyes. 

The promises of making songs together, singing them together, performing them with your souls intertwined. They were nothing but long gone.

Wonbin is the moon, and you're the sun. The two are never meant to meet, or to even be close to each other. Being opposites was never a problem, it was because you two had different understandings of what it meant for you to flourish and shine, what your purpose is in this world and how you would salvage it —it is the sad tale of the serene but incredibly fallible moon, and the ravishing sun, that's just as tainted.

And there would be no more eclipses to follow. 

I never thought we'd see it through.

So long nice to know you, I'll be moving on.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

happy hearts day <333

[charlieg1rl]

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭/𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭

𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝟕𝟎𝟎

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲!

Tension hung in the air as you sat down in the library, the faint sound of shuffling papers and hushed whispers doing little to ease the knot of irritation growing inside of you. You had been paired with the one person you could barely tolerate for this semester’s final project—Kim Seungmin.

Of all people, why did it have to be him?

He was late, of course, because he always did things on his own time, without any regard for anyone else. You rolled your eyes as you heard footsteps approaching. There he was, walking with an irritating sense of ease, a smirk already tugging at his lips. That stupid smirk you couldn’t stand.

“Well, look who’s early,” he drawled, throwing his bag onto the table without even asking for permission. He took a seat across from you, leaning back as if this whole thing was a joke.

“Someone has to take this seriously,” you snapped, flipping through your notes. “Unlike you.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m taking this very seriously,” he replied, leaning forward slightly. “I just don’t need to stress over every little thing like you do.”

Your jaw tightened as you tried to focus on the work in front of you. You didn’t have time for this back-and-forth. You had a deadline to meet, and the last thing you needed was to let his snarky comments throw you off. But that was exactly what Seungmin was good at—pushing your buttons.

“I’m going to write the introduction,” you said curtly, already pulling out your laptop.

“Of course you are,” he replied, shrugging. “Since you like to have control over everything.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You raised your eyebrows at him, irritation rising again.

“Just that you always have to be in charge. It’s like you think no one else can do anything right.”

You glared at him. “Or maybe I just don’t trust you to do your part.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying this too much. “Afraid I’ll outshine you?”

You laughed dryly, shaking your head. “Hardly. I just don’t want you slacking off and leaving me with all the work. Again.”

His expression shifted for a moment, just a flicker, but it was enough to tell you he didn’t like that accusation. “I didn’t leave you with all the work last time.”

“You basically did.”

Silence fell between the two of you, and the tension grew thicker. The library suddenly felt too small, too suffocating, as you both stared each other down. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, both from frustration and something else. Something you didn’t want to acknowledge. There was a strange energy between you two, always had been, and it was starting to surface again.

“Fine,” he finally said, breaking the silence, his voice more serious. “I’ll do my part. Let’s just get this over with.”

You blinked, surprised at the shift in his tone. Seungmin was always the playful one, always quick with a retort, but now he seemed… different. Focused, even.

“Okay,” you said quietly, glancing down at your notes. “Let’s split the work evenly.”

As you both settled into a rhythm, it became clear that despite your constant bickering, Seungmin was just as capable as you were. He had a sharp mind, quick to suggest ideas and improve on your thoughts. But of course, neither of you would admit that out loud. You still couldn’t stand each other, and the thought of giving him any credit felt like admitting defeat.

Still, there were moments, small and fleeting, where you caught yourself glancing at him as he worked. The way his brow furrowed when he was deep in concentration. The way his lips twitched when he thought of something clever to say, only to hold it back, for once. There was something about him that was infuriatingly… intriguing.

As the hours passed, you both fell into a comfortable silence, the animosity fading, at least for now. It was strange, almost unsettling, to not be fighting. But maybe, just maybe, you were starting to realize that working with Seungmin wasn’t as terrible as you thought.

But then again, you were both just doing what needed to be done, right?

At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[mamuzzy]

-- In Ordo's shadows --

Mereel learned so early that no matter what he does, no matter how hard he works and studies, he will never steps out of Ordo's shadow. And Ordo is not particularly talented in anything, or specialized, and not particularly ambitious.

What makes Ordo special that he is viciously protective and brave and those are the traits that he shares with Kal himself. It's during the war when he actually utilizes the psychological warfare the best that he learned from Kal. Because Ordo keeps learning directly from Kal on the field.

Now what has Mereel? Literally everything else. Even the other Nulls have more specializations than Ordo.

Kal can't do shit with science, and mathematics, and chemistry and all those stuff Mereel is especially talented at. Kal is uneducated. Every skill he learned is literally practical skill on the field, not helping that he is a bit technophobic. So it doesn't matter that Mereel can easely outshine Ordo in these fields (even by Null-standards), Kal can't appreciate the hard work because… he can't comprehend it even by regular natborn education standards. He tells them all the time he is proud of them, but also he is constantly tells them that practical skills much more important than the ones they learn from books/flash training... it tells them different message. It's contradicting. Kal maybe hurt Mereel without him realizing.

So Mereel while he never stopped being hard working, he became adrenaline junky. And with it, he is one of the few Nulls who directly disobeys Kal'buirs orders when the situation rewards fits (see the short story: ODDS). Mereel undertakes risky shit to shine, just to gets Kal's attention because he think he will never get it otherwise. He will risk his life, because he thinks he will never get love otherwise. He feel he needs to bring tribute and needs to be useful to get this love.

He knows that not even saving the whole clone-kind will be enough to get him from Ordo's shadows.

Mereel is completely aware that Ordo doesn't get attention because he is better at anything he does. It's because Ordo LACKS. It gives Mereel freedom but also such heartbreak and jealously it tears him apart. It's a contradiction.

Because Mereel won't cripple himself deliberatly to make himself a pitiable creature like Ordo.

Mereel probably hates himself for thinking like this about Ordo who protected them from everything as a child before Kal. He hates himself he wasn't the brave one back then, just the smart one. He hates that something was so fucked up in his brain that he decided, rather Ordo and his other brothers would perish first than him and that defined his relationship with Kal'buir later. He hates himself because he wanted to live so much... and he hates it that Ordo loved them more.

[painless-innit-colourful]

Sunset

Their eyes meet, amber flickering in the reflections in Jack’s pupils. Tubbo’s skin is tingling, vision periodically blurring and he feels a little sick: life returning to atoms that were supposed to be done living is a little violent, a little uncomfortable. Tubbo waits for the nausea to subside before he gives Jack a nod, feeling the prickling shimmer of fire resistance in his system, before he turns towards the lava lighting the room and blocking the way. Or, at least, it had been.

“Really?” Tubbo pauses at Jack’s voice breaking the unnatural quiet. “I’m going to go get him.” “How will you get him out? He doesn’t have resistance as well.” “There’s a hole in the cell. We’ll swim out.”

They share a gaze that feels so very final, even after the past few eternities they’ve waited. “I hope you’re right about him.” “I know I am,” Tubbo affirms. “Have a good rest of your life, Jack.” “You too, man. You too.”

—

“You okay?” Tubbo’s voice bounces around the hollow chamber, echoing off warm obsidian. Tommy’s on his knees, cast in light by the fire at his feet, looking up at Tubbo like he’s looking at an angel. Maybe that’s a bit what it looks like. Tubbo’s not completely sure they count as alive anymore.

“Tubbo-” He stumbles as he tries to get up, as Tubbo scrambles down soft-sharp rock to reach him. They each stop a handful of strides from each other, just staring, just breathing, the amber light washing them out and making them look like the ghosts they feel like, and then Tommy closes the distance with a shriek of pained relief and they crash to the floor and they are very corporeal and very real and very alive. 

They are alive.

Tommy’s crying, he realises, tears falling and very quickly drying due to their proximity to the lava in the floor. They almost ended up in the lava due to Tommy’s lunge, but it doesn’t matter because Tubbo’s teary too, and the warm glow around them is nothing to the warmth inside Tubbo that starts in his heart and expands outwards, steadily, steadily, bringing a feeling that might be life back into his bones and sinew. Coming back to life is new to him, but it’s not the worst feeling.

“I’m-” Tommy sputters between sniffs, “I’m sorry-” “Don’t you dare,” Tubbo pulls him closer, tucking him under his chin, like that’s ever had the power to keep him safe before. “Don’t you dare say that. Don’t.” “Oh- Okay…” After a moment, he laughs. “Hello stranger.” Tubbo smiles and kisses him on the top of his head. He smells like smoke and death. “Hello. We gotta get out of here-” “Yeah…” “-We gotta get you home.” “Home?”

He kisses him one more time, before shifting to his elbows. Their eyes meet, and the light in Tommy’s eyes outshines everything else in this godforsaken room. “Home. We gotta go home.”

—

The room is golden with a refracted autumn sunset when Tubbo hears the click-clonk of the front door through the house. He’s still adjusting funnels and tubes as he hears the approaching footsteps get louder and louder, until Tommy’s leaning on the only empty counter by the door, smiling.

“You’ll never guess who I ran into.” “Who? No, don’t tell me,” Tubbo swaps a full bottle for an empty one. “Santa Claus?” Tommy splutters, “Obviously not. No, Jack. Jack Manifold.”

Tubbo stops to look at him properly, “Wait, really?” “Yeah, and-” He ‘rounds the counter and leans annoyingly on Tubbo’s shoulder. He’s so annoying. The Most Annoying. Tommy ‘The Most Annoying’ Innit. Tubbo feels that familiar warmth he feels whenever he’s near.  “Get this- He’s been in the casino this whole time. In Las Nevadas. He’s a fucking gambler!”

Tubbo mulls this over for a moment, “Y’know… not what I was expecting.” “Right? But he says he’s happy enough, says he likes who he is now more than who he was before, and, I figured, that’s good enough, right?” Tubbo smiles, turning the knob on his filtration contraption, and the golden liquid thins to a stop. He pulls off his gloves and pulls Tommy into an embrace. “Yeah. Good for him. And, y’know, hopefully he does alright. Financially.” “That’s what I said too. He was pleasant. Much more than I was expecting actually. Y’know, considering.”

Tubbo closes his eyes a moment, thinks back. “He was a good guy. Just- Just another victim of… of that place.” He gives Tommy a squeeze, “I believe it’s your turn to cook tonight, Big Man, and you’re late.” “Bloody hell,” Tommy pulls back. Standing behind Tubbo’s equipment, the light cast through the window is the rich colour of butterscotch, and Tommy looks like he’s been dipped in honey. His eyes, his hair, the buttons on his coat all shine gold. They share a wide smile, and Tubbo would bet his life Tommy’s thinking the same looking at him - that neither could go into the darkness without reaching out for the other.

Except he already did. And won.