#hope really is dangerous but it’s worth the risk

[thatfeelinwhenyou]

SAFE & SOUND — part 5

Navigating one year post-apocalypse, when the dead began to walk and the living proved to be no better, you decide that trust is a luxury you can no longer afford. But after a run-in with a group of seven peculiar survivors, you learn that there are bigger problems than just the undead roaming the streets. You also start to wonder if there’s more to survival than simply staying alive.

word count: 23.7k

a/n: there's a lot of lore dumping in this one, please read this when you're 100% awake or you'll probably not understand a single thing. additionally, i must preface by saying that this part is all kinds of fucked up. i really urge you to read with discretion. REALLY.

MASTERLIST

People.

They’re dangerous—more dangerous than the dead. It’s a fact that’s been drilled into your mind, reinforced over and over by the world you’ve come to know.

Once stripped down to their core, people will cling to any semblance of purpose. Not just in the sense they'd do anything to keep themselves alive. But they’ll latch onto whatever scraps of hope they can find—convincing themselves that a crumbling building, a barricaded corner of a burning city, is worth dying for if it means they don’t have to face the one truth that terrifies them most: that nothing is safe. That nothing lasts.

But now you understand something even more unsettling.

The only thing more dangerous than people are people with something to lose.

That’s what Jungwon is. That’s what he’s become. He’s not just surviving anymore—he’s holding onto these people, this place, like a lifeline. Like it’s all that stands between him and the abyss.

And that’s what makes him dangerous.

You don’t keep your distance because you think you’re smarter or stronger than him. You do it because you’re afraid. Afraid of the weight he carries every day, the weight of responsibility, of leadership, of knowing that every decision could mean life or death for the people who trust him.

And maybe that’s why being alone feels safer. Because if you’re on your own, you don’t have to deal with the messy, volatile nature of human emotions. You don’t have to shoulder the weight of someone else’s hope or risk letting them down.

You glance around the camp, taking in the barricades, the makeshift beds, the worn-out faces of people who are holding onto hope with everything they’ve got. You’ve already done enough for them.

You’ve gotten them the medicine they need. You’ve made sure they have enough food and water to keep going for however long the heavens permit them to stay alive. You’ve fought alongside them, bled alongside them, and given them more of yourself than you ever intended to.

But that’s it. You’ve reached your limit. You don’t have to hold yourself back for their kindness anymore. You don’t owe these people anything more than you owe yourself. And what you owe yourself—more than anything—is your chance at survival. And with that renewed mindset, you steel yourself.

Quietly, you gather your things. You don’t need much. Just what you can carry. The essentials—enough to keep you moving. Enough to keep you alive. Your hands tremble slightly as you pack, but you don’t stop. You’ve survived this long by knowing when to walk away. 

And that’s exactly what you’ll do.

At this juncture, you have to walk away. Now. Before it’s too late. Before hope takes root in you too, and you lose the capacity to leave. You told yourself you’d do it once the immediate danger had passed. Once you were sure they were safe—at least for a little while. It seemed logical, practical. The right thing to do. 

But now, standing here with that gnawing sense of dread in your gut, you realise that even that thought in itself was hope.

And hope is stupid.

You can’t stay. You won’t survive if you do—not just because of the imminent danger, but because of them. Because losing them would destroy you in ways the world never could.

The only thing more dangerous than people is people with something to lose.

And you have something to lose.

“I don’t want to see you lose yourself.” your own words echo in your mind, sharp and piercing. They’d felt like a knife to the chest when you said them, and they still do now. Because what you didn’t realise then is that it’s not just about Jungwon, or the group, or the rest stop. It’s about you. You’re afraid of losing yourself, of what you’d become if you stayed.

When you die—because everyone in this world eventually does—you only hope you can die as yourself. Human. Both physically and mentally.

It’s the one thing you’ve clung to since everything fell apart. The idea that, no matter how bad things got, you’d hold onto your humanity. You wouldn’t let the world take it from you. Because once that’s gone, what’s the point? What’s left of you then? A shell. A husk. Something that breathes but isn’t really alive.

You’ve seen it happen to others from the community building. People losing themselves, bit by bit, until there’s nothing left but desperation and violence. Until they become unrecognisable—barely different from the monsters they’re trying to survive. It’s why you’ve kept your distance, why you’ve chosen solitude time and time again. 

Once you stay, once you put down roots, the danger will come for you. Because in this world, the danger never truly passes. It’s not something you can outrun or wait out. It’s relentless, always coming back, always finding new ways to haunt you. It’ll keep chasing you and every other survivor until it slowly, inevitably consumes you—or worse, you’ll have to stand there and watch it consume the people around you. 

You’ll then risk losing yourself as their deaths start to carve pieces out of you, leaving nothing but jagged edges and hollow spaces.

And you can’t afford to lose yourself like that. 

Not to them. Not to hope.

Tonight, you’ll take the first watch, sit through the long, silent hours, and leave without waking anyone for their shifts. Just before the sun rises—before they stir, before they have a chance to notice you’re gone—you’ll disappear.

It’s the best time to disappear—when the world is caught in that liminal space between darkness and light. This way, they won’t be in any immediate danger. They’ll wake to the sun rising over the horizon, unaware of your absence—at least at first. It’ll give them time to adjust, to make plans without you. And it’ll be easier for you to convince yourself it’s for the best.

The thought repeats in your head like a mantra, though it does little to ease the ache in your chest. You pull your jacket tighter around yourself, trying to ward off the chill creeping under your skin. The others are tucked away in the convenience store, huddled in their sleeping bags. Jake is next to Jay, keeping an eye on his breathing. Sunoo and Heeseung are resting against a stack of supplies, their heads lolling to the side in exhaustion.

Climbing onto the roof of the rest stop to take up the watch, you’re greeted by a perfect view of the vast horizon. The landscape stretches endlessly before you, dark and quiet under the blanket of night. From here, you’ll be able to spot a threat from miles away—long before it reaches the camp.

The night air is still, save for the distant rustle of leaves. The barricade feels impenetrable for now, but you know better than to trust in fleeting security. Nothing in this world is permanent. Not safety. Not peace. And certainly not the fragile connections you’ve built with these people.

Your gaze drifts toward the campfire, where the flames flicker weakly in the dark. Jungwon sits there, motionless, the rifle resting across his lap. Sunghoon and Ni-ki are beside him, their quiet conversation dwindling as the fire dies down. But Jungwon hasn’t moved since you started your watch. His posture is tense but controlled, his gaze fixed on the flames.

You wonder what he’s thinking—if he’s still replaying the events of the day in his mind. If he’s questioning the choices he’s made. The burdens he carries are etched into the lines of his face, visible even in the dim moonlight.

A part of you wants to go to him. To say something. To apologise for what you’re about to do. But that would be cruel.

Instead, you sit in silence, letting the minutes crawl by as the night drags on. Every second feels like an eternity, your heartbeat loud in your ears. You keep your gaze on the horizon, but your thoughts keep pulling you back to Jungwon. To the people who’ve come to trust you enough to leave you on watch alone, unaware of what you’re planning.

Slowly, one by one, they start turning in for the night. Sunghoon is the first to get up, quietly disappearing into the convenience store beneath you. Then Ni-ki. But before he goes, he pauses, glancing up at you on the roof. His expression is soft, boyish in a way that reminds you just how young he is.

“Don’t forget to wake me for my shift,” he says quietly.

You don’t think you can trust yourself to speak without your voice betraying you, so you simply nod, managing a small, tight-lipped smile.

Ni-ki lingers for a moment, as though sensing something is off. But when you don’t say anything, he finally turns away, disappearing inside.

And then it’s just Jungwon.

He hasn’t moved. The fire has almost gone out now, leaving only embers glowing faintly in the dark. His silhouette is barely visible from where you sit, but you can still feel the ghost of his presence.

Another hour passes before you sense it—a subtle shift in the air, the faint crunch of footsteps retreating into the convenience store.

You glance toward the campfire. It’s nothing but darkness now, and Jungwon is gone.

You don’t even know how much time has passed when you notice it—the faintest hint of dawn creeping over the horizon. The dark sky softens to a deep grey, the first light of morning stretching across the landscape. 

And you know. It’s time.

You descent from the rooftop quietly, careful not to make a sound. The camp is still, the soft snores of your companions the only indication of life. Your gaze lingers on each of them, committing their faces to memory. 

Your feet move silently across the gravel, carrying you toward the gate. The path ahead feels both endless and final, the weight of your decision pressing heavier with each step. You push open the metal gate just small enough for you to slip through, pausing only to adjust the strap of your bag.

Freedom.

The word feels hollow as you take your first steps beyond the safety of the camp. The road stretches out before you, bathed in the soft glow of dawn. The world is vast and empty, and for the first time in a while, you’re completely alone.

But as you take another step, a voice cuts through the silence.

“Y/N.”

You freeze.

Slowly, you turn around, your heart hammering in your chest. Jungwon stands by the gate, his silhouette outlined against the rising sun. His rifle hangs loosely in his hand, but his posture is tense. His eyes meet yours, dark and unwavering.

“You’re leaving.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement—a quiet, resigned truth.

You swallow hard, your throat tightening painfully. There’s no point denying it. He’s always been able to read you too well.

“I thought you might. After everything… I knew you wouldn’t stay.” His voice is steady, but there’s a roughness to it, like he’s holding something back.

Jungwon takes a step toward you, but you instinctively step back, creating distance between you. The space feels heavier than it should, like the air between you is suffocating.

“Don’t. Don’t make this harder than it already is.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but it cracks under the vulnerability of your own emotions. The real shock is in the pain you hear in your own words—pain you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

He stills, his gaze never wavering. There’s anger in his expression, exhaustion and a deep sadness that cuts through you like a knife.

Jungwon’s jaw clenches. “Last night, you said you were going to share the burden with me.” His tone is quiet, almost hollow. “Was that a lie?”

You clench your fists at your sides, your nails digging into your palms. “If you already know, why ask?”

A humourless laugh escapes his lips, the sound hollow and bitter. It echoes in the quiet of dawn, amplifying the ache in your chest.

“I had hope that you would stay,” he says simply.

Hope.

Not that damned hope again.

Silence stretches between you, heavy with everything said and unsaid. But you both know there’s nothing either of you can say to change the other’s mind. Nothing Jungwon says will convince you to stay—not if it means standing by while they get hurt, while they die. And nothing you say will convince him to leave—not when he’s already made this place feel like home.

“Why?” His voice breaks the silence, softer now. There’s something in his eyes—exhaustion, yes, but also something more vulnerable. Something broken. “Why are you leaving?”

You don’t answer him. You just stare at the void in his eyes and that’s when you notice the bags under it, the way his shoulders slump under the weight of everything he carries. He hasn’t slept all night. He must’ve been waiting—waiting for you to wake Ni-ki up for his shift. Waiting to prove himself wrong about you.

But you never did.

“So that’s it?” His voice rises slightly, frustration seeping in. “You’re already convinced we’re going to die? You don’t even want to try to fight?” His grip on the rifle tightens, his knuckles turning white. His whole body trembles with barely contained anger.

“For god’s sake, Jay took a fucking bullet for you!”

The words hit you like a slap. You flinch, your mind racing back to that moment. The blood. The panic. The sheer terror.

He’s right. Jay did take a bullet for you.

And you repaid that debt by risking your life at the bus terminal to get him the medicine he needed. Give and take. That’s what survival is, isn’t it? But suddenly, that line of thinking feels wrong. Twisted. Because with that mindset, you could justify anything. You could justify stealing from innocent people, killing whoever stands in your way, and calling it necessity. Just like The Future.

Your chest tightens. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, but even to your own ears, it sounds hollow.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Jungwon snaps. His voice is raw, laced with hurt and anger. “If you were going to leave, you should’ve done it that night at the motel. You didn’t have to wait until I started caring about you.”

His next words strike harder than anything else.

“What makes you different from the people who walked away from you?” 

The question hangs in the air, cutting through you like a knife to the gut.

What makes you different from the people who left you behind? 

Everything.

Because those people didn’t care about you when they chose to leave. They didn’t hesitate when they abandoned the community building. And you didn’t care about them when you barricaded yourself in that corner to survive.

But here? Here, you care.

And walking away makes you a monster.

Jungwon steps closer, but this time you’re rooted to the spot. His eyes are searching yours, almost pleading. “You don’t feel anything at all?” His voice trembles, and it shatters you to see him like this—vulnerable and exposed in a way you’ve never seen before. 

“Y/N. Say something. Don’t just stand there—”

“You think it’s easy?” Your voice cracks, rising with anger you didn’t even realise you were holding in. “You think it’s easy choosing to leave you? To leave them?”

Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision but you don’t bother wiping them away.

“I wanted to leave that night at the motel,” you continue, your voice trembling. “Hell, I should’ve left. But that would’ve meant leaving all of you to die. I thought I could stay long enough to help, long enough for you to let your guard down so I could slip away. I never meant for it to come this far. I never meant to care.”

“You’re leaving all of us to die now. What’s the difference?” he asks quietly, though you can hear the spite in his words.

“Because I don’t want to stay here,” you choke out. “If you’ve already decided to settle down, there’s nothing I can do to change that. But I will not let myself stay here and watch the worst things imaginable happen to any of you.”

Your voice breaks, the tears flowing freely now. “At least out there, I can tell myself you’re still alive. That maybe I was wrong to think this place is a trap.”

Jungwon takes a shaky breath, his frustration cracking through the cracks in his composure. “Then stay,” he says quietly. “Stay and see for yourself. Stay and make sure you know damn well we’re alive. Leaving won’t keep us safe, Y/N.”

“Well, staying won’t keep you alive either!”

The words come out louder than you intended, your voice breaking as you sob. “I can’t lose any of you. You already saw the state I was in when Jay almost died. Sooner or later I will have to experience that kind of grief—if I have to lose you—I don’t think I’ll survive it.”

He scoffs, and you wince at the evident annoyance. "Back then, you barely knew any of us, and you were willing to sacrifice yourself to save our lives. Now that you do know us, you want to leave because you’re too afraid to see us die?" His voice trembles, rising with frustration. "You’re so full of shit, you know that?"

The words hang in the air, harsher than either of you expected. You see it in his face—the way his eyes widen slightly, the way his lips press together, as if trying to pull the words back. He hadn’t meant to say it, at least not like that. But it’s out there now, and there’s no taking it back.

Jungwon’s expression softens almost immediately, the anger melting into something quieter, something more painful. His shoulders sag, and you can see the weight of everything pressing down on him, heavier than ever. When he speaks again, his voice is low, barely above a whisper, broken by the raw emotion behind it.

“I—I didn’t mean it that way—”

“No.” You cut him off, shaking your head. “You’re right.” Your voice trembles, the truth unraveling inside you, spilling out in a rush you can no longer control. “I’m a coward. I’d rather walk away than experience that loss.”

Jungwon flinches at your words, his expression crumpling as though he’s trying to keep his composure, but failing. His gaze locks onto yours, and in that moment, all the walls he’s built to keep himself steady come crashing down.

“And it’s not a loss to leave us? To leave me?” His voice cracks as he takes a step closer, his eyes dark and glassy with unshed tears. There’s no anger left in him now—just pain. Raw, unfiltered pain. 

You can barely breathe past the lump in your throat, your chest tightening with each second of silence that passes. You blink rapidly, trying to push back the tears threatening to fall, but it’s no use. The emotions you’ve tried to bury rise to the surface, clawing their way out. 

Jungwon’s hand reaches out, hovering just beside your face. He’s waiting for you to lean in first, to close the distance, to give him a sign that you won’t leave. His fingers tremble slightly, so close that you can feel the faint warmth of his palm.

But you don’t move.

“You’re the greatest loss, Jungwon.”

Your voice is so quiet, you almost don’t hear yourself say it. The words slip out like a confession you’ve kept buried for too long. And for a moment, everything is still. Silent.

Jungwon’s eyes widen slightly, as though he’s just realised the weight of what you’ve said. His lips part, like he’s about to say something—maybe to beg you to stay, maybe to tell you he feels the same—but you don’t let him.

You don’t give yourself the chance to change your mind.

You step back, his hand falling limply to his side, and the space between you feels insurmountable. You take another step back, then another.

And this time, when you turn your back on him, you don’t look back. Even with tears streaming down your face, even as your chest aches with the implication of everything you’re leaving behind, you force yourself to keep walking.

Because you know that if you see the look on his face—if you see the heartbreak in his eyes—you won’t be able to walk away.

But even now, as you tell yourself it’s better this way, there’s a small, nagging voice in the back of your mind. A whisper that wonders if isolation is really strength or just another form of self-destruction.

You have no idea how long you’ve been walking. Your thoughts swirl chaotically, clouded by the argument with Jungwon that still plays in your mind like a broken record. The sun hangs high in the sky now, its rays cutting through the morning mist as the chirping of birds fills the air—a hauntingly normal sound in a world that’s anything but.

When you turned your back on him and walked away, you hadn’t planned on where to go. You’d just moved, one foot in front of the other, mindlessly pushing forward like one of the undead you’ve fought so hard to avoid. 

All you know is you have to keep moving. Don’t stop. Don’t let yourself get tied down by people, places, or promises.

Before you even realise it, the bus terminal comes into view on the horizon. That bus terminal. The one where everything nearly ended for you. Where Jungwon saved your life.

The memory threatens to surface, but you shake your head sharply, forcing it down. No. Don’t think about him. Don’t think about any of them. You left them for a reason.

And yet, here you are, heading back toward the city. Back toward the very place you tried so hard to claw your way out of when the outbreak first began. It’s almost laughable, the irony of it. Back then, you were desperate to escape, fleeing the chaos and death that seemed to choke every street. But now? Now you’re willingly going back.

It’s not because the city has become safer—it hasn’t. The streets are likely still teeming with the dead, and the stench of decay probably still clings to the air like a curse. Survivors rarely venture in, the danger too great for most to justify. That makes it a kind of sanctuary in its own twisted way.

You don’t know when it happened—when avoiding the living became more crucial than avoiding the dead. But after everything you’ve been through, after everything that went down with the group, you realise now that some people are better off left alone. Like you.

It’s easier this way. In the city, you don’t have to constantly look over your shoulder for someone else’s sake. Every action, every decision you make will only affect you. There’s no group to protect, no lives depending on your choices, no shared weight to carry. You can move freely, without the suffocating burden of responsibility pressing down on your chest.

As you approach the outskirts of the bus terminal, you freeze, your breath catching in your throat. 

What lies ahead makes your stomach churn, the sight so incomprehensible it feels like your mind is playing tricks on you. A horde—massive, grotesque, suffocating in its sheer number—fills the gaps between rusting cars and crumbling buses, their guttural moans and the wet shuffling of decayed limbs filling the stagnant air. The commotion from last night must’ve drawn them here. 

No, something is off.

Your first instinct is to duck, to press yourself against the side of a nearby car, but curiosity keeps your eyes locked on the scene. The horde’s movements are... strange. It’s not just the usual shambling chaos of the dead, not the erratic, aimless wandering you’re used to. It’s too... coordinated. Sections of the group lurch forward in unison, turning together as though responding to some unseen signal.

And then you see them—figures standing atop the cars, scattered like silent sentinels amidst the chaos. Their heads swivel, scanning the area, their posture betraying an awareness the undead don’t have. 

From your hiding spot, you squint, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing. Their bodies are draped in something you can’t quite make out at this distance—tattered rags, maybe? No. Your stomach twists as you squint through the haze. It’s flesh. Patches of rotting skin and gore strapped to their bodies, like grotesque armour. Their faces are hollowed out, decayed. But their eyes… it’s clear. Just like the zombie you spotted in the clearing that day. The one that stood eerily still, watching, waiting.

Then one moves. Not with the jerky, mindless motion of the dead, but with purpose. Deliberate. Intentional. Your breath catches in your throat as the realisation hits you like a punch to the gut.

They’re… human? But the dead is not going after them. How is that possible?

You watch as one of the figures on a car stomp its foot onto the roof. The horde responds almost immediately, a section of the undead turning in unison, moving as if corralled toward a tighter group of vehicles. Another figure lets out a whistle, low and sharp. The sound sends a ripple through the horde. The zombies lurch toward the source, shuffling like sheep to a shepherd’s call.

It’s sickeningly methodical. Choreographed chaos.

Your mind races as you try to process the scene. These people—whoever and whatever they are—they’ve figured out how to control the dead, how to manipulate them like tools.

Then, you spot another one of them on the roof of the terminal, the one you and Jungwon came from. He’s wearing the same decayed face but his stance is confident, almost arrogant, as he surveys the horde below. 

“Friends!” he calls, his voice echoing above the chaos, carrying an authority that you’ve never heard before in this ruined world. The horde reacts immediately, pushing forward as if his words alone are a leash pulling them to heel. They claw at the walls of the building, their rotting fingers scraping against the brick, desperate and unrelenting.

Your heart hammers in your chest, the sound almost deafening in your ears. Friends? The word twists in your mind, warping into something grotesque. He’s speaking to the dead like they’re equals, like they’re allies in some twisted cause.

“We’re not far now,” he continues, his voice filled with a fervour that makes your stomach churn. The horde responds again, the shuffling and groaning growing louder, almost like a chant. “Tonight, they’ll pay for what they’ve done!”

Your breath catches, and your grip on your bag tightens. They? Who’s they?

The man raises his arms, the action reminding you of a preacher before his congregation, a maestro before his orchestra, and the dead press closer to the building, their movements frenzied in response to him.

“They won’t even know what hit them!” His voice reverberates, filled with rage and something else—something almost gleeful. It’s the sound of someone relishing the thought of destruction, of revenge.

Your gaze darts to the figures on the cars. At first glance, they seem indifferent, but then they raise their fists in unison, a silent cheer. A rallying cry without words, their collective movements eerily synchronised, like a grotesque sermon preached to the dead.

The noise of the horde grows, a crescendo of chaos that grates against your nerves. You can’t tear your eyes away from the man on the roof as he reaches back, his movements slow and precise, untying something from the back of his head.

Your breath catches as he pulls it forward, letting it swing for a moment in the wind. It’s a mask—thin, gnarled, stitched together from the decayed skin of the dead. The detail makes your stomach churn: patches of dried flesh, sinew hanging loose, and hollowed-out eye sockets that must have once belonged to something that used to breathe. When he looks up again, your blood runs cold.

It’s him. The guy Jay went after.

Your stomach flips violently as the pieces snap together in your mind. The zombie from the clearing—that eerily still, haunting figure that locked eyes with you—it wasn’t a zombie. It was him.

Your gaze jerks back to the other figures standing on the cars, to the masks they wear, and the realisation makes your skin crawl. They’re all wearing the dead. Covering themselves in the stench of decay to mask their scent, blending seamlessly with the horde. Walking among them. Herding them like livestock.

The realisation sends a cold shiver racing down your spine, leaving your limbs heavy and unresponsive. The world around you feels like it’s tilting, the ground shifting beneath your feet as you struggle to process the horror in front of you. Your mind races, frantically revisiting every moment that didn’t make sense before: the horde that ambushed you in the city, the back door at the motel, the perfectly timed attack at the camp. It was them. It’s always been them.

The bile rises in your throat, burning and bitter, but you force it down, swallowing hard as you cling to the only thing you can do right now—stay quiet. Your breath comes shallow, the sound of your pounding heartbeat drowning out the chaos around you. 

Your hand trembles as you steady yourself against the car, the metal cool under your palm. You’re not sure how long you can stay here without being spotted, but one thing is clear: these people are dangerous. More dangerous than the dead, more dangerous than any survivor you’ve encountered.

Every instinct screams at you to run, to put as much distance between yourself and this nightmare as possible. But you can’t.

They’re moving the horde. 

Towards you. Towards Jungwon. Towards all of them.

Without realising, your legs move on their own, instinct taking over as you bolt back in the direction you came from. It doesn’t matter that it took you nearly an hour to walk here; you’re running now, faster than you thought your body could manage. 

Your mind races just as fast as your feet. The whole thing feels like some cruel cosmic joke. 

And now, with every step closer to that rest stop, you feel the pull of something you thought you’d severed. It’s not just the danger that’s pushing you back—it’s them. 

Jungwon, with his quiet, unshakable strength that masks the unbearable weight he carries. Jay, who bled for you without hesitation. Ni-ki, who never stopped believing in the group’s survival. Sunoo, Jake, Heeseung, Sunghoon—they’re more than just people you met along the way. They’re the only thing tethering you to this broken, crumbling world.

And that’s exactly why you left.

You left because you couldn’t stand the thought of watching them die. Not Jungwon. Not any of them. Because you know what would happen if they did. The rage would consume you, boiling over until it scorched everything in its path. The grief would hollow you out, leaving nothing but an echo of who you used to be. You’d do things you promised yourself you’d never do, and the world would win. It would take you, just like it’s taken so many others. You’d become a stranger to yourself.

But the irony isn’t lost on you now. You left because you didn’t want to watch them die. You told yourself it was about survival—your survival. You couldn’t stay and risk being reduced to ashes by grief and rage.

And yet here you are, sprinting back to possibly watch them die. Back into the chaos. Into the danger. Into the pain.

You don’t want to go back. You do. You don’t. The contradictions whirl in your mind like a storm, a tempest of fear, anger, and regret. Every step forward feels like a step closer to doom. But every thought of turning back feels like a betrayal of something you can’t quite name.

Back then, it was just an invisible threat—a vague, looming shadow of danger that hung over you like a storm cloud. You couldn’t see it, couldn’t touch it, you don’t know for sure, you could only feel it. That gnawing dread, the constant whispers of worst-case scenarios. And you’d told yourself that leaving was the only way to spare yourself the pain of the inevitable.

Or maybe they wouldn’t die at all. Maybe you were just being paranoid. Maybe you were wrong about that place. Maybe they’d prove you wrong by thriving, by turning it into the refuge they so desperately wanted it to be. You told yourself all of that to justify the decision to walk away, to convince yourself it was the right thing to do.

But even that was just another lie. Another twisted attempt to deny what you really felt. And despite your best efforts to shut it out, to drown it in logic and practicality, you realise now—that thought in itself, that denial, that ignorance—is hope.

Hope that leaving would somehow shield you from the pain of watching them fall apart.

Hope that they wouldn’t die, that you were just being overly cautious, overly cynical.

Hope that you were wrong about that place, that it wasn’t a death trap waiting to claim them all.

And maybe that’s why you hate the whole idea of hope.

Hope, in all its naive, fragile glory, has been the cruelest trick the world ever played on you. It’s a poison wrapped in pretty words and good intentions. You’ve told yourself time and time again that hope is what gets people killed. It makes you reckless. Makes you believe in things that don’t exist. Hope makes you stay when you should run, makes you trust when you shouldn’t, makes you care when you can’t afford to. And the worst part? Hope doesn’t stop the bad things from happening. It doesn’t save you from loss, from grief, from pain. It just makes the fall hurt that much more when it all comes crashing down.

And now, running back down this highway with every nerve in your body screaming at you to hurry, you feel the weight of it pressing down on you.

You didn’t leave because you thought they’d be fine. You didn’t leave because you believed they’d prove you wrong.

You left because you hoped. In your own twisted way.

But now? Now, knowing what you know, hope feels like a cruel joke. There can’t be hope. Not anymore. Because you know the truth. You’ve seen it with your own eyes.

The people on the cars, the masks of flesh, the herded horde—it’s all proof that this world doesn’t care about hope. It doesn’t care about survival. It only cares about death, about how it can twist and shape and devour until there’s nothing left. 

They’re not fine. They won’t thrive. They won’t prove you wrong. You can’t even tell yourself that you’re overthinking it, that you’re paranoid, that it’s all in your head. Ignorance is no longer bliss because you know. It’s not just some superficial, nebulous fear anymore. It’s real, and it’s heading straight for Jungwon and the others, and you’re the only one who knows. 

They don’t know what’s coming. Jungwon doesn’t know. The group doesn’t know. And if you don’t make it back in time—

The thought hits you like a sledgehammer, knocking the breath out of you. You trip over a crack in the asphalt, your body hitting the ground hard, the impact jarring your entire frame. 

For a moment, you’re dazed, your palms scraped and bleeding against the ground. But the sound of your ragged breathing snaps you back to reality. There’s no time to stop. No time to let the pain sink in. You scramble to your feet, dirt clinging to your hands and knees, and keep running.

You don’t even know how long you’ve been running. All you know is the tightening in your chest, the fire in your lungs, and the unrelenting truth clawing at the back of your mind.

They’re actually going to die.

That knowledge burns, searing away any last shred of hope you might have clung to.

And maybe that’s why you hate hope so much. Because you wanted it to be real. You wanted to believe, even if it was just for a moment, that they could have a chance. But this world doesn’t allow for chances. It doesn’t allow for happy endings. It only allows for survival—and only for those willing to tear apart everything and everyone in their way.

Your pace slows as the rest stop comes into view in the distance, the barricade just barely visible against the horizon. Your heart twists at the sight of it. It looks the same as when you left, quiet and still, like it’s waiting for something to happen.

You can’t stop the bitterness from rising in your chest as you picture Jungwon’s face when you walked away. The disappointment, the anger, the heartbreak—it’s burned into your memory like a wound that refuses to heal. He probably thought you were giving up on them, giving up on him. And maybe, in a way, he was right. Because you couldn’t bring yourself to watch them cling to hope like a noose tightening around their necks

And yet, here you are, running back. Not because you believe you can save them. Not because you think there’s still a chance. But because you can’t bear to let the world prove you right. Not like this. Not when the price of being right is their lives.

You hate hope. You hate what it does to people. But what you hate even more is the thought of standing here, doing nothing, and watching it die. Not just them—you. 

Because saving them is saving yourself.

You realise that now, with every step you take. You can’t separate the two. You can’t convince yourself that walking away from them doesn’t mean walking away from who you are, from the part of you that still has a purpose.

The choice isn’t about hope or survival anymore; it’s about what you’re willing to lose in the process.

If you’re going to lose yourself, let it be in trying. Let it be in throwing everything you have into saving them, even if it breaks you in the process. Let it be because you cared enough to fight.

Because the alternative—the guilt, the regret of turning your back and knowing you could have done something—would be far worse. It would eat away at you. Hollowing you out in a way you’d never recover from.

So if saving them means letting the world take the last piece of you, then so be it. If the cost of trying is everything, you’ll pay it. At least this way, when you lose yourself, it’ll be with a purpose. At least it won’t be for nothing.

And if it comes down to it, if the fight doesn’t go the way you hope, you just pray you won’t live long enough to witness the fallout. You hope the world will be merciful enough to take you before it forces you to watch it take them.

You’re close now, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you force your legs to keep moving. The thought of Jungwon and the others pushes you forward, fuels your determination. You can’t let them be caught off guard. You can’t let them die.

The gates swing open before you can even catch your breath to announce your presence. Figures. They probably saw you miles before you even reached the rest stop, perched from their vantage points or perhaps by sheer habit of being on guard.

It’s Sunoo who greets you at the gate, his face lighting up when he spots you. “Y/N! Back already?” he asks, his tone casual, cheerful even. Like you’ve just returned from a harmless errand rather than the most tumultuous hours of your life.

Back already. The words settle uneasily in your chest as you step through the barricade. You glance at him, noticing the messy state of his hair, sticking up in odd angles, and the faint marks of sleep still etched onto his face. He doesn’t know. None of them know.

You scan the area, catching sight of the others. Sunghoon is by the fire, stretching as if he’s just woken up. Heeseung’s leaning against a pillar, rubbing the back of his neck. Even Ni-ki, who usually has a sharp, alert edge to him, is sitting cross-legged in the back of the van, yawning into his hand.

They don’t know you almost left for good. They have no idea that you had stood on the edge of this very decision, ready to walk away from all of this—from them.

Your chest tightens as you realise how quickly things could have gone another way. If it weren’t for what you saw back at the terminal, you’d be gone right now, miles away from this place, convincing yourself that this is how it had to be. And yet, here you are, standing in the midst of them, and not a single one knows how close you were to never coming back.

And then you see him.

Jungwon is leaning against the wall near the van, his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze locks onto yours the moment you step into the camp, his expression unreadable. There’s no accusation in his eyes, no anger, no “I told you so.” He just looks at you, and you know.

He didn’t tell them.

Whatever passed between you before you left—whatever anger, whatever hurt—it’s gone now, buried under something heavier. Something you can’t quite name.

Your breath hitches as you hold his gaze, a silent exchange passing between the two of you. There’s no point in asking why he kept it to himself. You know why. He’s protecting you, just like he always does, even when you don’t deserve it.

Sunoo, oblivious to the weight of the moment, grins at you and gestures toward the rest of the group. “We figured you were off hunting or something, but damn, you’ve been gone for three hours. Did you get anything?”

Three hours. That’s all it’s been. You glance down at your hands, still clutching the strap of your bag like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. It felt like so much longer. Like a lifetime has passed since you last stood here.

You glance back at Jungwon, who hasn’t taken his eyes off you. And in that moment, you understand something you didn’t before. He didn’t just protect your secret because it was the right thing to do. He did it because he knows you. Knows how close you were to walking away. Knows how much you’ve been wrestling with the weight of staying. And somehow, despite all of that, he’s still here, waiting for you.

“Well, are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to tell us what you found?” Sunoo’s voice jolts you out of your thoughts, and you force a smile, your mind already racing with how you’re going to explain what’s coming.

Because they may not know that you almost left. But they’re about to find out what you came back for.

You take a deep breath, willing your trembling hands to steady as you adjust the strap of your bag. Sunoo is looking at you expectantly, his cheerful demeanour a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside you. The others are starting to notice now—Heeseung raises an eyebrow, Sunghoon straightens his posture, and Jake steps closer, his gaze narrowing slightly in concern.

“I… didn’t go hunting,” you begin, your voice low but steady. You glance around the group, meeting their eyes one by one before landing back on Jungwon. His expression remains unreadable, though you catch the slightest twitch of his jaw. “I went back to the bus terminal.”

The ripple of confusion is immediate.

“What?” Jake’s voice cuts through the silence, his brow furrowed. “Why the hell would you go back there?”

“I had to check something,” you say, your words rushing out faster than you intended. “Something didn’t sit right with me about that place, about what happened. So I went back to see if—” You pause, your throat tightening as the images flash through your mind again: the horde, the people, the masks.

“If what?” Heeseung prompts, his voice calm but edged with concern.

Your fingers tighten around the strap of your bag as you force yourself to say it. “There’s a horde at the terminal.”

“A horde?” Sunghoon echoes, his voice laced with disbelief.

“Yes,” you say firmly, your eyes scanning the group to make sure they’re listening. “A massive one. Bigger than anything we’ve seen before. But that’s not the worst part.” You take another breath, steeling yourself. “There are people. People controlling it.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating.

“People?” Sunoo’s face twists in confusion, his earlier cheer replaced with unease. “What do you mean, controlling it?”

“They’re… wearing the dead,” you say, your stomach churning at the memory. “Masks. Clothes. Covering themselves in the scent of decay to blend in. They’re herding the zombies like livestock. I saw them. They’re leading the horde.”

Silence. The kind that feels too loud, too sharp.

“That’s not possible,” Jake finally says, his tone disbelieving. “No one can control the dead.”

“I’m telling you, I saw it with my own eyes!” you snap, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “They’re moving the horde, and they’re coming this way. They’re coming for us.”

Heeseung’s expression darkens, and he exchanges a look with Sunghoon. “How do you know they’re coming here?”

You hesitate, your gaze flicking to Jungwon. He’s still silent, his eyes locked on yours, waiting.

“Because he was there—the guy that Jay went after,” you admit, your voice dropping. “I saw him. Seems like he’s the one in charge too. They’re planning to attack tonight. They know you’re here.”

The weight of your words sinks in, rippling through the group like a shockwave. The air shifts, heavy with dread, the fragile sense of safety they tried to hold onto cracking under the pressure. Sunoo looks pale, his cheerful energy drained away as he stares at you like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Jake’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing with determination, though the tension in his shoulders betrays the fear he’s trying to suppress. Ni-ki, who’s just stepped out of the van, freezes mid-step, his expression hardening into one of unease.

Then, movement from the convenience store catches your attention. You glance over, your breath hitching when you see Jay standing in the doorway. Relief washes over you at the sight of him upright, alive, looking much better than the last time you saw him. He’s out of bed—too soon, really—but still, he’s here. Thank god.

But then the relief wanes, replaced by a twinge of worry. The pain in his posture is evident in the way he leans slightly against the doorframe, his body curling in on itself as though every breath takes effort. His complexion is pale, almost ghostly, the lack of colour suggesting someone still in convalescence, still vulnerable. Yet he’s standing there, bearing witness to everything.

And there’s something else. A look on his face that tugs uncomfortably at your chest—regret. It’s there in the tight line of his mouth, in the way his gaze flickers between you and the others. He must’ve heard what you said about the guy. About how he’s still alive. About how he’s leading this horde straight to them.

The regret in his expression cuts deeper than any words could. It’s not regret for himself, not for the pain he’s in or the bullet wound that’s barely begun to heal. It’s regret for what he didn’t finish. For the job he couldn’t complete. And now, because of that, the people he cares about are going to suffer the consequences.

Jay’s the type to bear the blame even when it’s not entirely his to bear. And now, standing there, he looks like he’s drowning in it, his regret and guilt weighing him down like a stone tied to his chest.

“What do we do?” Sunoo’s voice is small, almost childlike. It trembles with fear, breaking the heavy silence that’s gripped the group since your return. His wide eyes dart from person to person, searching for reassurance that none of you can offer.

“We leave,” you say firmly, your gaze locking onto Jungwon’s. The words leave your mouth with more force than you intended, your desperation bleeding into every syllable. “We pack up and leave now, before it’s too late.”

But Jungwon doesn’t respond. His dark eyes remain fixed on yours, unreadable, like he’s searching for something he’s not sure he’ll find.

“Jungwon,” you press, your voice rising slightly as the urgency claws at your chest. “You know we can’t stay. Not with what’s coming.”

His jaw tightens, his posture stiffening as the group watches the two of you with baited breath. You can feel the tension rolling off him, coiling tighter with every passing second. For a moment, you think he’s going to argue. But then he speaks, his voice low and measured. “If we leave now, they’ll follow us. A moving group is easier to track. We need to think this through.”

“Think this through?” you echo, incredulous. The disbelief cuts through your voice, sharp and biting. “There’s nothing to think through. They’re coming, Jungwon. If we stay here, we’re sitting ducks.”

“And if we leave, we’re exposed,” he counters without missing a beat, his calmness only fuelling your frustration. “We don’t even know if we’d make it out of the area before they catch up to us. We need a plan.”

The group falls silent again, their eyes darting between the two of you like they’re caught in the middle of a battlefield with no way to escape. The weight of their stares presses down on you, amplifying the tension already thrumming in your veins.

Your chest heaves as you search for the right words to push through his resolve. But before you can, Jay speaks, cutting through the thick air like a blade. His voice is quiet but firm, carrying a gravity that makes everyone turn toward him. “He’s not going to stop, you know.”

You snap your head toward him, your breath hitching at the resignation in his tone. His gaze locks onto yours, and in that moment, you understand what he’s trying to say.

“He’ll find us,” Jay continues, his voice steady despite the obvious pain he’s in. “And he’ll keep finding us until he gets what he’s looking for.”

"If you're suggesting we leave without you, forget it. We—"

“The only choice is to stay and fight. To settle it once and for all.” Jay’s eyes flicker to Jungwon, then to the rest of the group, his words slicing through the growing sense of dread.

The silence that follows is deafening. You can feel the ripple of fear that passes through the group, the unspoken understanding of what staying to fight would mean. It’s not just survival anymore. It’s war. And war always demands sacrifice.

Jungwon’s gaze shifts to you again, his expression unreadable but weighted with expectation. He’s waiting for you to argue, to push back. But you don’t. Because deep down, you know Jay’s right. This isn’t just some random attack. It’s a personal vendetta. 

Even if you manage to convince them to leave, to escape the immediate threat, it won’t guarantee their safety. These people don’t just want resources or a fight. They want vengeance. They want blood. And they won’t stop until they have it. Running will only delay the inevitable. 

You swallow hard, the words catching in your throat. “If we stay,” you finally manage, your voice trembling slightly, “we need to be ready. Completely ready.”

Jungwon nods once, the tiniest flicker of approval crossing his face before it’s gone again. He turns to the group, his voice steady and commanding as he begins issuing instructions. “Ni-ki, Jake—check the barricades. Reinforce every weak spot you find. Sunghoon—bring out all the guns and ammos from the backroom. Sunoo—gather anything we can use to secure the perimeter. I saw some extra rows of barb wires in the basement earlier. Heeseung and I will map out entry points and blind spots. Jay, you stay inside.”

Then Jungwon turns to you.

You wait, holding your breath, anticipating the order he’ll give you. But it doesn’t come. Instead, his gaze lingers on you for a fleeting second before he looks away, addressing the others again. He’s leaving you out of it—deliberately. The realisation hits you harder than it should.

At first, you think he’s still angry, that the tension from your earlier argument hasn’t fully dissipated. But as you study his face, the way his jaw is set but his eyes avoid yours, you see the truth. He’s not mad at you.

He’s giving you an out. He’s leaving the option open—the option to walk away, still.

The group disperses quickly, each person moving with purpose as they carry out their assigned tasks. The sound of hurried footsteps and shifting supplies fills the air, but you remain rooted to the spot. You feel like a ghost, watching them prepare for a battle you’d been so desperate to avoid. A battle you tried to flee from. A battle you brought right down on them.

You glance back at Jungwon. He’s already bent over Heeseung’s map, pointing at something with a furrowed brow. His posture is tense, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring ready to snap. Even from here, you can see the weight on his shoulders, the burden he carries not just as their leader but as someone who cares too much.

Your chest tightens. You can’t tell if it’s guilt or anger—or maybe something messier than both.

He’s leaving the choice to you because he knows you. He knows you’d hate being told to stay, that forcing you would only drive you further away. But this, this silent permission to go—it feels worse. It feels like he’s already preparing himself for your absence. Like he’s already accepted that you might leave.

You tear your gaze away, your fists clenching at your sides. He’s giving you what you wanted. The freedom to walk away without confrontation. The chance to escape without tying yourself to their fate.

So why does it feel so wrong?

Just then, Jay approaches, his steps slower than usual, but his presence steady. “You look like shit,” he says flatly, his voice cutting through the quiet.

“Could say the same thing about you, Jay,” you shoot back without thinking, the words slipping out with a touch of dry humour. Your chest tightens as you’re brought back to the moment on the roadside—the weight of his voice when he confronted you, the guilt that still lingers in your bones. You wonder if he knows just how close you came to leaving.

Jay tilts his head, studying you in that unnervingly perceptive way he has. “Come on,” he says finally, nodding toward the convenience store. “We can keep watch together on the roof.”

Your brow furrows. “Jungwon told you to stay inside.”

“Inside and on top, same thing,” Jay replies, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “At least on the roof, I get to feel somewhat useful.” He clicks his tongue, and there’s a stubborn edge to his tone that you know all too well.

“Jay,” you start, but he cuts you off, his gaze narrowing.

“Don’t start. I know my limits better than anyone, and sitting around waiting to feel like dead weight isn’t doing me any favours.” His voice is sharper now, but not angry. Just resolute. “You can watch my back if you’re so worried.”

You let out a quiet sigh, glancing toward the roof. He’s not wrong—at least up there, he’s out of harm’s way but still contributing. And truthfully, part of you is relieved for the company. You nod reluctantly. “Fine. But you’re not pulling anything heroic. Got it?”

Jay grins faintly, though the usual arrogance in his expression is muted. “I’ll leave the heroics to you this time.” His voice softens as he adds, “Come on, let’s go.”

The scent of the morning feels sharper now, almost intrusive, carried by the cool breeze that brushes over your face as you and Jay sit cross-legged on the roof. The faint rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds fill the silence between you. Both of you lean back against the convenience store sign, the metal cool against your shoulders.

“How’s recovery been?” you ask, your voice quiet as your gaze stays fixed on the horizon stretching endlessly past the rest stop.

“Good,” Jay replies, his tone nonchalant. “Thanks to the medicine you and Jungwon brought back. And, well, Jake, obviously.”

“So, it doesn’t hurt anymore?” you ask, glancing at him briefly, searching his face for any hint of dishonesty.

Jay lets out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “Are you kidding? It was only two days ago. Of course, it still hurts like shit.”

A wave of guilt crashes over you, sharp and unrelenting. Of course, it hurts. He’s carrying the pain for both of you—for a bullet that was meant for you. Your chest tightens, and before you can stop yourself, the words slip out.

“I’m sorry.”

Jay turns to you, his brow furrowing slightly. “I told you, it’s fine—”

“No, it’s not fine, Jay,” you cut him off, your voice trembling with emotion. “You really could’ve died.”

“Yeah, if you were a little bit taller.” His lips twitch, and you can see him trying to hold it back. But it doesn’t last long before he bursts out laughing—a bright, unrestrained sound that feels almost alien in this grim world. The laughter cuts short, though, as he winces and curls in on himself, the pain from his wound quickly bringing him back to reality.

Your instinct is to reach out, but you hesitate, your hand hovering in the air before dropping back to your lap. “See? It’s not fine,” you mutter, your voice softer now.

Jay breathes through the pain, shaking his head with a faint grin still lingering on his face. “Worth it. That reaction was worth it.”

You stare at him for a moment, incredulous. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re predictable,” Jay shoots back, his grin lingering, though the weariness in his voice cuts through the lightness. Then his expression shifts, something sharper and more knowing in his eyes. 

“This morning, you left, didn’t you?”

You freeze, the words hitting like a jolt to your chest. Of course you can count on Jay to call you out on your contrarian shit.  

You don’t answer right away, but the silence is all the confirmation he needs. “Yeah, I figured when I woke up and saw Jungwon sitting on the roof. Legs dangling over the edge, just staring at the horizon. Like he was waiting for something. Guess that something was you.”

Your chest tightens, and you turn your gaze back to the horizon. You want to say something, to deny it, but what’s the point? He already knows the truth.

“Did he say anything?” you ask cautiously, your voice quieter now. “Jungwon, I mean.”

Jay’s eyes flick to you, studying your face for a moment before he answers. “Not much. He’s not really the type to spill his guts, you know that.” He pauses, his gaze turning distant, like he’s replaying the memory in his mind. 

Jay continues, his tone lighter, but there’s an edge to it. “For what it’s worth, he didn’t look angry. Just… resigned, I guess. Like he already knew what you were going to do before you did.”

You exhale shakily, your fingers tightening around itself. “I didn’t mean to—” you start, but Jay cuts you off.

“I know,” he says, his voice softer now. “And so does he. Doesn’t mean it didn’t mess with him, though.”

His words land heavier than you expect, and you nod, swallowing hard as the guilt settles deeper into your chest. It’s a hollow ache, twisting and gnawing, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything else. The silence between you stretches thin, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge of collapsing into the depths of your own self-loathing.

Jay, ever the mind reader, speaks up before you spiral. “But that just means he truly cares about you. That you bring him comfort and hope in a world that’s devoid of it.”

Hope. That word feels like an accusation, like it doesn’t belong anywhere near you.

"Why?” you whisper, barely able to hear your own voice. “Why does he care about me? I met you all barely over a week ago.”

“What about you?” he counters. “Why do you care?”

His question takes you off guard, echoing in your mind like a challenge. Why do you care? You left to avoid caring, to avoid the inevitability of their deaths, to avoid watching the world tear them away from you like it’s done to so many before. Yet, here you are, sitting on this roof, your chest tightening with every word, every thought.

You glance at Jay, his face calm but expectant, the faint lines of pain around his mouth betraying the effort it takes for him to even sit upright. He doesn’t push. He doesn’t have to. The weight of his question lingers in the air, demanding an answer you’re not ready to give.

“I shouldn’t care,” you say finally, the words falling flat. They feel like a shield, something to protect yourself from what you’re afraid to admit. “It’d be easier if I didn’t.”

Jay lets out a soft laugh, though it’s tinged with sadness. “Yeah, it would be. But that’s not who you are, is it?”

You don’t respond. Because he’s right, and you hate that he’s right. You hate that you care, that you couldn’t stop yourself from coming back, from throwing yourself into the fire again and again. You hate that their survival has somehow become entwined with your own, that you can’t even think about saving yourself without thinking about saving them.

Jay shifts slightly, wincing as he adjusts his position. “You care because you see it, don’t you?” he continues, his voice quiet now, almost gentle. “What we have here. It’s not perfect—it’s messy and dangerous, and it might not last. But it’s something. And for some reason, you want to protect that.”

You shake your head, frustration bubbling to the surface. “I came back because I knew what was coming,” you argue, more to yourself than to him. “Because if I didn’t warn you, you’d all be dead by midnight. That’s it. That’s the only reason.”

Jay tilts his head, studying you with an expression that feels far too knowing. “Sure,” he says, his tone neutral. “Keep telling yourself that.”

You glare at him, but there’s no real anger behind it. Just exhaustion, and maybe a little bit of fear. Because you know he’s right. You look away, your gaze drifting back to the horizon. The beauty of it feels almost mocking, a cruel reminder of what you’re all trying to hold onto in a world determined to take it away.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to keep going when everything feels so... fragile. Like it could all fall apart any second.”

Jay’s expression softens, and for a moment, he looks older, wearier. “None of us do,” he says simply. “We’re all just figuring it out as we go. Even Jungwon. But I guess he tries to hide that from the rest of us.”

“Why?” you ask, finally turning to look at him. “Why does he feel like he has to hide it?”

Jay leans back further against the convenience store sign, his expression heavy with something close to regret. “When things fell apart, we were all with him at his new university. We were stuck there—trapped with him. And Jungwon...” He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think he blames himself for that. Like it was his fault we were there instead of safe at home with our families when it all started.”

You’re reminded of your first real conversation with Jungwon, the way he spoke about the group as if their survival was entirely his responsibility. He hadn’t said it outright, but now, hearing it from Jay, it all makes sense. The guilt he carries, the sleepless nights, the endless drive to keep moving forward—it’s all because of them. Because of what he believes he owes them.

“He really thinks it’s his fault?” you murmur, half to yourself.

Jay nods, his gaze distant. “Yeah. But it’s not. We wanted to be there. We wanted to stay. Hell, we probably made it harder for him by refusing to leave. And now, we’re his reason to keep going.” He lets out a quiet laugh, but it’s hollow, lacking any real humour. 

You don’t say anything, letting Jay continue. You can tell he’s speaking from a place that’s deeper than his usual wit, pulling from a well of memories he rarely lets anyone see.

“Somewhere along the way, we just… started relying on him,” Jay says. “On his reassurance, his direction. It wasn’t even intentional. It just… happened. Even someone like me, who hates showing weakness—I faltered. When it happened. When she died.” His voice cracks slightly, and he swallows hard before continuing. “And I would go to him, night after night, just so I can fall asleep. Because his presence brought me that comfort. That feeling that everything might be okay, even when I knew it wouldn’t be.”

Jay’s gaze flicks to you, his expression distant, as though he’s caught between the past and the present. “He does it because it’s in his nature. He feels like he has to carry us, all of us, because we’re still here. That’s just who he is. He’ll carry the world on his shoulders if it means we can breathe a little easier. But it made me realise… Jungwon probably gets scared too. He probably has countless sleepless nights, only he has nobody to lean on.”

You stare at Jay, his words settling over you like a weight you’re not sure you’re ready to bear. The breeze brushes past, carrying with it the faint scent of morning dew, but even that isn’t enough to distract you from the raw honesty in his voice.

You’re quiet for a moment, processing his words. Then Jay’s voice softens even more, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Well, until you came along.”

That catches you off guard. “Me?” you echo, frowning slightly. “What are you talking about?”

Jay tilts his head, his expression somewhere between exasperation and amusement. “You’re really going to pretend you don’t see it? The way he looks at you. The way he listens when you speak, even when you’re arguing. Especially when you’re arguing.”

You do. You do see it. Only you didn't think it was that significant for someone else to notice it too. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter, but the heat creeping up your neck betrays you.

Jay raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Come on. You’re not that dense. The guy practically lights up when you’re around. Even when you’re pissing him off.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the words catch in your throat.  “He doesn’t need me,” you say finally, your voice quieter now. “He’s strong enough on his own. He always has been.”

Jay lets out a low, disbelieving laugh. “That’s the thing. He doesn’t need you to carry him, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need you. You’re not taking away his strength; you’re giving him a reason to keep using it.”

“Don’t underestimate the kind of relief you bring him,” Jay says firmly. “He’s been carrying all of us for so long, I don’t think he realised how much he needed someone to push back. To challenge him. To make him feel like he doesn’t have to carry it all on his own.”

You glance at Jay, his expression serious now, his usual smirk replaced with something softer. “Why are you telling me this?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Because someone has to,” he replies simply. “And because I know you care about him, even if you’re too stubborn to admit it.”

The silence that follows feels heavier than before, but this time, it’s not uncomfortable. It settles between you like a fragile truce, delicate but unbroken. Which is surprising, considering you’re having a heart-to-heart with Jay, of all people.

You glance at him from the corner of your eye, half-expecting some sarcastic remark or a biting joke to cut through the moment. But he doesn’t say anything. Instead, his gaze fixes on the horizon. His profile, usually so sharp and full of defiance, seems softer now, like the weight of the conversation has smoothed out his edges.

“You know,” you start, breaking the silence, “you remind me of someone from the community building.”

Jay glances at you, curious. He notices your attempt to change the topic but he doesn't call you out on it. “Yeah? I bet they were a real charmer.”

You snort, shaking your head. “No, he was an idiot. But it’s something about the way neither of you know how to sugarcoat your words. That brutal honesty, whether anyone’s ready for it or not.”

Jay chuckles, the sound low and surprisingly genuine. “Well, I hope he’s thriving and doesn’t have a gaping hole in his side.”

“Yeah, well… he was a real troublemaker,” you say, your tone growing more reflective. “Got into all sorts of shit before everything fell apart. He was one of those kids the adults would always shake their heads at. A ‘bad influence,’ they’d say. But I went on a few supply runs with him, so I got to know him better. Yeah, he was reckless, stubborn, and constantly looking for trouble, but he was a nice guy deep down. Helped me out of a few tight spots.”

“He had a little sister. Around four years old when it started,” you continue, your voice lowering. “She was everything to him. No matter how much of a mess he was, he took care of her like his life depended on it. You could see it in the way he looked at her, the way he’d always make sure she had enough food or that she wasn’t scared.”

You pause, the memory sharp and painful. Jay’s quiet, sensing that there’s more to the story. His gaze sharpens, but he doesn’t interrupt, letting you take your time.

“One day, there was this fight. Between him and an older man in the building. It got… bad. Heated. I don’t even know what it was about anymore—something stupid, probably. Everyone was watching, caught up in the chaos, and I guess no one noticed his sister trying to stop them. She ran in, got caught in the middle.” Your voice falters, and you swallow hard before continuing. “She got pushed. Fell against the edge of a table. Her skull… cracked open.”

The words hang heavy in the air, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. The weight of the memory presses down on you, and you can feel Jay’s gaze on you, quiet and steady.

“At first, he was devastated,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Grief just… swallowed him whole. But then, something shifted. His entire demeanour changed. He didn’t cry. He didn’t scream. He just… got up, grabbed the man who’d pushed her, and dragged him outside. Fed him to the dead. No hesitation. After that, he left. Never saw him again.”

Jay exhales slowly, leaning forward slightly. “What’s the moral of the story?” he asks, his voice careful, like he’s testing the waters.

“I guess…” you hesitate, trying to put your thoughts into words. “I guess I’m afraid of becoming like him. Detached. Insane. Letting grief consume me to the point where I’m not even me anymore. I still remember his eyes that day, when he dragged that man outside. It was like… everything human about him was gone. And I don’t want that to happen to me.”

Jay watches you closely, his expression unreadable. Then, after a long pause, he asks the question you’ve been dreading. “Is that why you left? Because you were scared to face what you’d lose?”

You flinch, the truth hitting you like a slap to the face. “Yeah,” you admit, your voice trembling. 

“Do you think he made it?” he asks suddenly, his gaze still fixed you.

You blink, caught off guard by the question. It’s not one you’ve ever let yourself think about, not in detail. “I don’t know,” you admit, your voice hesitant. “I think about it sometimes. Whether he found somewhere safe, whether he made it out of the city alive... but I guess I’ll never know.”

“Do you think you would’ve done the same? If it had been you?”

The question hangs in the air, heavy with implication. You hesitate, but only for a moment. Because deep down, you already know the answer.

“Yes,” you say quietly, the weight of the admission settling deep in your chest. Your fingers curl into your palms, your throat tightening.

“I think I would’ve done the same thing. And that’s what makes it worse.”

Jay nods slowly, his expression unreadable. His gaze lingers on you, as if weighing something in his mind.

“There are some things in the universe that are just out of our control,” he says, staring up at the sky like the answers might be written in the clouds. “Like the weather, for example, or who your parents are. And when things go wrong, it’s easy to say, ‘It was out of my hands,’ or ‘There’s nothing I could’ve done about it.’”

Jay’s voice is steady, measured, but there’s something raw underneath it, something that makes you listen even though you don’t want to. He glances at you then, his expression unreadable. “But when you do have control over something—when you actually could have done something, but you choose not to—and then you lose control? That’s worse. That’s so much worse.”

Your fingers curl into your palms, nails biting into skin, but you don’t stop him.

“Because this time, you actually had a hand in it,” Jay continues, his voice quieter now. “Not doing anything about it, knowing what you could’ve done to prevent it—that thought consumes you. It haunts you in your sleep, over and over again. And I think, deep down, you already know this.” He lets out a soft breath, shaking his head slightly. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have come back.”

“Human emotions are fickle. And more often than not, we’re driven by the negative ones,” Jay muses. “Anger, fear, guilt, regret, grief. I mean, it’s hard not to be when you’re forced into a world where the undead is constantly trying to eat you.” He huffs a quiet, humourless laugh, running a hand through his hair.

“But the one thing stronger than all of those emotions? Hope.”

He says it so simply, like it’s a fact, like it’s something undeniable. Like he knows you've been grappling with this dilemma.

You want to deny. You really really want to.

“It’s a funny thing, hope,” Jay says, looking back at you now. “You can’t survive without it—not really. It’s the one thing that keeps people moving forward, that makes them cling to life even when it feels impossible. In the apocalypse, you can never have too much hope. Because it’s all we have left.”

His gaze sharpens, like he’s making sure you’re listening.

“That includes each other.”

The lump in your throat grows tighter.

“We’re hope for one another,” Jay says, his voice unwavering. “You’re hope for us. And we damn well need to be hope for you.”

You let out a shaky breath, turning your head away. You stare down at your scraped hands as Jay’s words settle deep into your bones, into every part of yourself you’ve spent so long trying to shut off. You hate hope. You fear it.

Jay leans back against the sign, watching you carefully. He doesn’t press, doesn’t rush you. He just lets you sit with your thoughts, lets you process.

Eventually, you find your voice, though it comes out quieter than you expect. “But you only feel those negative emotions when you hope. Hope sucks the life out of people. Hope gives people false reassurance. People lose all sense of logic just to hold onto hope and yet, it's hope that makes the pain so much more excruciating when it's ripped away from you. You’re only disappointed because you hope. Too much hope is dangerous.” You don't even realise you've been raising your voice until you're done.

Jay huffs out a small, humourless laugh, shaking his head. “It’s a paradox, isn’t it? This fragile, beautiful thing that’s supposed to keep us alive is also the thing that can destroy us.” His voice is steady, thoughtful. “Hope is the spark that ignites negative emotions—but it twists them into something else. Something with purpose.

“Anger, fuelled by hope, becomes determination. Fear, tied to hope, becomes caution. Guilt and regret, tethered to hope, becomes redemption. Grief, woven into hope, becomes strength.”

You flinch at that, but Jay doesn’t let up. “Without hope, those emotions are just weights dragging you down, holding you back. But with it, they’re a reason to fight. A reason to survive.”

“Hope is what gives meaning to every choice, every sacrifice. It’s what makes us human.”

You stare at him, your throat tightening. The words claw at something deep in you, something you’ve spent so long trying to bury. 

“And that’s the cruel irony of it all,” Jay continues, his voice quieter now. “Because hope is also the thing that hurts the most. The thing that leaves you raw, vulnerable to disappointment and despair when it’s inevitably taken away. But even knowing that, we can’t let it go. Because without hope, what’s left?”

His gaze flickers to you then, sharp and knowing. “Not you,” he says, his voice gentle but firm. “And definitely not me.”

Jay’s words settle into you like a slow, creeping ache—one you can’t ignore, no matter how much you want to. They seep into the cracks, the ones you’ve spent so long trying to patch over, the ones you told yourself didn’t exist.

And for the first time in a conversation with Jay, you have no response.

You know he’s right. But it hurts—because hope is also the reason you’re here. The reason you turned back. The reason you’re sitting on this rooftop, trying to make sense of the war that rages inside you.

Hope, in the apocalypse, is both a necessity and a curse—and that contradiction is what makes it so powerful.

If you hadn't seen what you saw, you would have been long gone by now. You would’ve walked away with the comfortable lie that they’d be fine, that they’d beat the odds like they always do, that their naive faith in safety would somehow be rewarded.

But you know the truth now. And the truth doesn’t allow you the luxury of ignorance. Because they’re not okay. They won’t be okay.

Not unless you do something.

Leaving now—knowing what’s coming—wouldn’t just make you a coward. It would make you complicit in their deaths. It would mean standing by while the world tears them apart, pretending it isn’t your problem.

And you know yourself well enough to understand exactly how that would end. A lifetime of guilt. A lifetime of knowing you could have done something but chose not to. That guilt would fester inside you, wear you down, strip you bare until there’s nothing left of you that’s worth saving. Until the world finally wins.

And either way—whether you leave or stay—you’re not going to come out of this intact. You’re already too deep, too tangled in it all.

So you choose the path that has even the smallest, most fragile hope of something good coming out of it.

In the end, you chose hope. 

And hope guided you back to them.

The silence between you and Jay stretches for another half-hour, comfortable in a way that doesn’t demand words. There’s no need to fill the space with forced conversation, no pressure to dissect the weight of everything you’ve just talked about. Just the two of you, sitting side by side, watching the horizon as if it holds the answers neither of you have.

Occasionally, your gaze drifts downward, taking in the organised chaos of the camp below. The others move with purpose, their figures threading seamlessly through the makeshift fortifications, pulling them together, binding them to one another. Binding you to them.

Your eyes find Jungwon without meaning to. He’s hunched over a roughly drawn map with Heeseung, tracing escape routes with a furrowed brow. His lips are pressed into a thin line, his jaw tight, his entire body braced as if the sheer weight of their survival rests on his shoulders alone. Heeseung says something, pointing at a different spot on the map, and Jungwon nods, his fingers tightening around the paper.

You wonder what he’s thinking. If he truly believes they have a chance, or if he’s just convincing himself to. Because no matter how much you try to push it away, the doubt creeps in before you can stop it. It slithers through the cracks in your resolve, wrapping around your thoughts like a noose.

The horde is too big.

There’s no way this place will hold against it.

Even if you get past the first wave, they’ll surround the camp before you even get the chance to turn around and leave.

You press your lips together, gripping the edge of the roof so tightly that your knuckles turn white. The old wood groans under the pressure, but the sound is drowned out by the weight pressing down on your chest.

It’s a losing battle.

You know it. They must know it too.

But then, you look closer. The exhaustion on their faces is unmistakable. The shadows under their eyes, the weariness in their shoulders, the way Sunghoon drags a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply as if trying to breathe the tension out of his body.

They don’t fully believe this will work. Not really.

But they’re trying anyway.

Because what else is there to do? Give up? Lay down and wait to be torn apart? No. That’s not who they are.

And despite the gnawing dread in your stomach, you realise—it’s not who you are either.

Just then, panicked voices rise from directly beneath you, coming from a blind spot you can’t see. Your body tenses instinctively as your ears strain to make sense of the commotion. 

Jay stiffens beside you, his head snapping toward the sound. You exchange a knowing look, silent but immediate in your understanding—something’s wrong.

You focus, trying to visualise the situation in your head, piecing together what you can hear against what you can’t see. The sharp edges of alarm in the voices. The sound of someone struggling. A threat, spoken with dangerous intent.

Your eyes flick to Jungwon. His expression is tight, unreadable at first—until you notice the tinge of worry, the fear etched just beneath the surface as his gaze locks onto the entrance of the convenience store.

You’re already counting heads.

Jungwon. Heeseung. Jake. Sunghoon. Ni-ki. Jay, beside you.

Your stomach twists.

Where’s Sunoo?

Before you can say anything, a voice cuts through the tense silence. A voice you don't recognise.

“I know there’s two more,” the stranger calls out, their tone sharp with authority. “You’d better show yourselves before I do something to this boy.”

The world around you stills.

Your breath catches.

Sunoo.

You and Jay exchange another glance, this time urgent, alarm bells ringing in both of your heads. Without hesitation, you inch closer to the edge, careful not to make a sound as you peer over.

Your worst fears are confirmed.

Sunoo stands frozen in the doorway of the convenience store, his hands raised slightly, his posture rigid with fear. His chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths, his eyes darting toward Jungwon—toward all of them—searching for an escape that doesn’t exist.

Behind him, partially obscured by the pillars, you catch a glimpse of someone else—an outsider. A woman, dressed in ragged clothing with a cloak draped over her frame. Yet, despite her tattered appearance, her stance radiates a quiet, dangerous confidence that sends every instinct in your body on high alert. With one hand, she presses a pistol firmly against the back of Sunoo’s head, keeping him locked in place.

She’s inside the rest stop. How?

Then it hits you.

She’s been here. Probably ever since you arrived. Hiding. Watching. Acting as a spy for your attackers.

Jungwon’s expression remains unreadable, but you see the tension in his shoulders, the slight tremor in his fingers. He takes a slow step forward, his hands raised in a non-threatening gesture. His voice is calm, measured.

“You’re outnumbered. Are you sure you want to do this?” He tilts his head slightly, eyes locked onto hers. “Let him go, and we can talk.”

The woman doesn’t even spare him a glance.

“I said show yourself,” she orders, her voice sharp, unwavering. “You have ten seconds.”

And then she starts counting.

"Ten."

Your gaze flicks to Jay.

What should we do?

"Nine."

Jay’s jaw tightens.

Let’s wait it out.

"Eight."

Your stomach knots.

And what if she shoots him?

"Seven."

Jay exhales sharply, weighing the risk.

I don’t think she will. She’s outnumbered.

"Six."

Your fingers twitch at your sides.

She’s bluffing.

"Five. I’m really going to do it."

Your breath catches.

She’s not bluffing.

"Four."

Jay hesitates.

She has nothing to lose.

"Three—"

“Alright, we’re coming out.”

The words leave your lips before you fully process them. Your arms lift above your head, palms open, your body moving before your mind can tell you to stop. Slowly, carefully, you begin your descent from the roof.

Jungwon’s eyes flicker to you the moment your feet touch the ground, but he doesn’t say anything. His jaw tightens, his fingers twitch slightly at his side. You know he doesn’t like this, but what other choice do you have? You had seconds to decide—risk Sunoo’s life, or give her what she wants.

Your boots hit the pavement, dust kicking up beneath you as you step forward, keeping your hands where she can see them. Jay lands behind you, slower, deliberate. You sense the stiffness in his movements, the way his breathing subtly shifts as he fights to keep himself from wincing. He’s trying not to show it, but he’s still weak.

She can’t know that.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” the woman sneers, swaying the pistol trained on Sunoo. He flinches but doesn’t make a sound, though you can see the tension in his frame, the fear flickering in his eyes. He’s trying to be brave. You need to be braver.

You and Jay stop a few paces away, keeping the distance just wide enough to not seem like a threat. Jungwon, Heeseung, and the others remain still—coiled like springs, waiting for the right moment. Looking for an opening. But you know there might not be one.

A chill creeps down your spine, slithering like ice through your veins, settling deep in your bones. You swallow hard, forcing air into your lungs. Stay calm. Stay in control.

The air around you feels thick, suffocating in its stillness. Each breath is laced with tension, heavy with unspoken words, unspoken fears. Your fingers twitch at your sides, hovering near your weapon, but you don’t dare move—not yet. One wrong twitch, one flinch in the wrong direction, and the woman’s finger might tighten around the trigger.

Then, as if the universe is offering you a cruel favour, a faint breeze stirs the stagnant air, cutting through the oppressive heat and unsettling the dust beneath your feet. The edges of the woman’s tattered cloak flutter with the movement, lifting for the briefest moment.

But it’s enough.

Your breath catches and your gaze snaps to the sight beneath the ragged material, to the place where her left forearm should be.

A stump.

Jagged, uneven, the skin around it healed but rough—evidence of a wound that wasn’t treated with care. A makeshift bandage barely holds in place, frayed from time and neglect.

Your mind races, the implications hitting you like a blow to the chest. 

She’s injured. She’s weaker than she wants you to believe.

The realisation strikes you hard, but before you can fully register how to use it against her, a voice cuts through the tension.

“Hey, I know you.”

It’s Jake.

His tone isn’t hesitant, but certain—sharp enough to make the woman’s smirk falter ever so slightly.

“You do now?” The woman regains her composure quickly, her smirk returning as she idly plays with the safety of her pistol, flicking it on and off, the quiet click-click-click filling the charged silence.

Jake doesn’t flinch. “Lieutenant Kim Minseol. Ammunition Command. You’re part of The Future.”

His words send a ripple of confusion through the group.

Jungwon stiffens beside you, his gaze sharpening as he scrutinises the woman up and down, searching for recognition in her face. The others exchange uneasy glances, but Jake keeps his eyes locked on her.

“I remember you,” he continues, voice controlled but unwavering. “A few weeks before our escape, you came into the treatment facility with a fresh stump on your left arm. It was because of your absence that we were able to sneak into the supply depot.”

For a brief moment, something flickers in her expression. A shadow of something sinister, something ugly. Then she lets out a hollow, bitter laugh.

“What a good memory you have there, Doctor Sim.” The mockery drips from her words, but beneath it, there’s a tightness—like the words taste sour in her mouth.

Jake doesn’t react, his expression carefully guarded.

And then her smirk disappears altogether.

“But you’re wrong about the first part,” she says, her voice dropping lower, losing its feigned amusement. “I was part of The Future. Until they expelled me. Said resources were running low. But of course, that’s because someone helped themselves to six months' worth of supplies.” Her gaze sweeps over all of you, sharp and knowing.

A chill settles over the group.

“It’s not our fault,” Heeseung says evenly, though there’s a tightness in his jaw, a flicker of tension beneath his composed exterior. His gaze shifts—almost unconsciously—to her left arm, lingering for just a second too long. “They would’ve expelled you anyway. For your… unfortunate disability.”

Her head tilts slightly, eyes narrowing like a predator sizing up its prey.

“Someone of my rank would still be valuable enough to keep around, even with my unfortunate disability,” she counters, her tone dripping with cold certainty.

The click of a pistol’s safety disengaging slices through the silence. Sunoo flinches, his breath catching as the muzzle digs harder against his skull.

“You think I’m lying?” Her voice sharpens like a blade, each syllable cutting through the air with precision. “Then what about the dozens of able-bodied men and women they cast out with me?” Her eyes sweep over the group, daring anyone to challenge her, to deny the truth she’s laying before them.

“What excuse do they have?”

No one answers.

“How did you end up here?” you ask, grasping for something, anything to keep the upper hand.

The woman lets out a scoff. “What? Didn’t think a lady with a stump could survive this long?” she sneers. “I was military for a reason, you know. And lucky for the group of us that got expelled, we ran into A.” Her smirk widens, something cruel glinting in her eyes. “Who just so happened to have a long-standing unresolved affair with one… of… you.”

Her gaze sweeps the group deliberately, before landing on Jay.

It lingers.

Your breath stills.

Is she talking about him? About the man Jay went after?

Your head snaps to Jay instinctively, and sure enough, you see it—the slight stiffening of his shoulders, the sharp clench of his jaw. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, but that’s all the confirmation you need.

You keep your voice even, biting back the unease bubbling in your gut. “Did A suggest you lot dress up as freaks too?” you taunt, eyeing the grotesque remnants of the dead clinging to her clothes.

Her smirk doesn’t falter. If anything, it deepens.

“Call it whatever you want,” she purrs, rolling her shoulders back, “but it’s kept us alive.” There’s something almost reverent in the way she says it. “It’s what got us this sanctuary of a rest stop.”

Sanctuary. The word makes your stomach churn.

The woman gestures around like she’s unveiling some grand conquest, her voice thick with smug satisfaction. “The Future didn’t see what was coming when we rolled over this place. They never even put up a fight.” She shakes her head, laughing—mocking. “That’s how confident they were in this place. That sure of their survival.”

She spreads her arms wide, as if to drive the point home. “And just like that, they left all this behind! For us, of course.” Her eyes gleams with something almost predatory, as she levels her gaze at you. “Not you.”

She’s getting caught up in her own villain monologue. She’s getting cocky.

“‘The Future are monsters.’” She spits the words out like they taste bitter on her tongue. “It’s easy to just say that, isn’t it?” She lets out a mocking laugh, one filled with more exhaustion than humour.

“Have you ever considered that some of us were just doing what we were told? That we were just trying to survive?”

Silence.

Then, her smirk fades, replaced with something colder. 

“Bet you didn’t think stealing wouldn’t have any implications on the rest of us, did you?” Her grip on the pistol tightens, her knuckles turning white.

“Did you?” she repeats, quieter this time, but the threat behind it is unmistakable.

The weight of her words settles over the group like a thick fog, suffocating in its quiet accusation.

She’s right.

They had never stopped to think about what had happened to the people they left behind. The ones who weren’t part of The Future’s elite, the ones who had simply been following orders. The ones who weren’t cruel enough, strong enough, useful enough to be worth keeping around.

And when they took those six months of supplies, when they ran, they might not have pulled the trigger on those people themselves—

But they might as well have.

It’s a sickening realisation.

The Future is a tyrant military organisation. That much is true. But tyrants don’t survive without followers, without structure, without soldiers willing to do anything to keep their people alive.

Isn’t that exactly what they’ve been doing?

Taking what they can. Keeping their own alive, even if it means condemning someone else.

The guilt twists in your stomach like a knife. You feel it rippling through the others too. She leans in ever so slightly, her lips curling into something almost gentle—but the pistol pressing into Sunoo’s skull tells a different story.

“You see it now, don’t you?” she murmurs, tilting her head. “The hypocrisy. The way you tell yourselves you’re different.”

“You’re no different from The Future.”

“And now you’re back,” she continues, voice like poisoned honey. “Trying to steal something that isn’t yours, again.”

The shift in the air is almost tangible. It’s subtle, like a silent crack forming in a foundation that had once seemed unbreakable—but it’s there.

You see it in the way Jake’s shoulders slump just slightly, in the way Sunghoon’s lips press into a thin line, in the way Heeseung’s gaze flickers to the ground like he can’t quite meet anyone’s eyes, in the way Ni-ki’s jaw is clenched so tight it looks like it might shatter, in the way Jay’s hands twitch at his sides, in the way Sunoo disassociates even with a gun pointed at his head, and among them is Jungwon’s gaze—still sharp and unreadable.

It’s setting in—the weight of her words, the seed of doubt she’s planted.

Because she’s not just threatening them. She’s challenging everything they’ve told themselves to keep going.

The belief that they’re different.

That they’re good.

That, somehow, their survival is more justified than anyone else’s.

But survival is never clean, is it? And now that she has said it, now that she’s painted that picture in their minds, you can see them starting to crumble.

These people—your people—their sole reason for fighting is the belief that they are not monsters. That they are not like The Future, or A, or the ones who take and take and take without looking back.

But now, faced with the consequences of their own actions, you watch that belief fracture.

They’re breaking.

She sees it.

And she revels in it.

This has been her goal all along—to make them doubt themselves. Because a group that doubts itself is a group that falls apart from the inside.

You need to stop this. Now.

“Then let’s talk about what is yours, Lieutenant,” you say, keeping your voice steady, sharp. “Tell me—what exactly did you earn?”

Her smirk falters, just barely. But you catch it.

“What?”

“You and the others,” you press, eyes locked onto hers. “Did you build this place? Did you earn the supplies you’re hoarding? Did you put in the work to secure it?”

Her lips part slightly, like she’s about to say something, but you don’t give her the chance.

“No,” you answer for her. “You stole it. Just like The Future stole from the people before them. Just like we stole to survive.”

Her fingers twitch.

Good.

“You think you’re better than us?” you continue, pressing the words forward like a knife slipping between ribs. “You took this place the same way we would’ve if we’d gotten here first. Yet, you’re walking around acting like it's your birthright.”

Her expression darkens, her grip on the pistol tightening, but you don’t miss the way her jaw clenches.

A flicker of something shifts through the group.

They exchange glances, the tension easing just slightly, as if your words—blunt and unforgiving—have cracked through the air of helplessness surrounding them. Jungwon’s stare flickers between you and the woman, the gears in his head turning, assessing, waiting for her next move.

The silence that follows is thick, heavy with unspoken truths and fractured justifications.

Then, she speaks.

“We did steal,” she admits, her voice low, sharp, controlled.

Her head tilts, dark eyes locking onto yours, something almost amused flickering in them despite the rage simmering beneath her skin.

“But the difference between us—” she leans in slightly, voice dipping into something razor-thin, something meant to cut, “—is that you’re parading around, pretending you have some kind of moral high ground.”

And this time, it’s your turn to flinch. It takes everything in you to keep your face blank, to not let her see the way her accusation burrows under your skin like a splinter.

Because she’s right. They all know it.

Survival was never about who deserved to live. It was about taking. About seizing what you could before someone else did. About carving out a space in a world that no longer cared who was good, who was bad, who had once been kind.

Because kindness doesn’t keep you alive. Compassion doesn’t put food in your hands or a weapon in your grip. Morality doesn’t stop the teeth that tear through flesh or the hands that pull the trigger.

And if you’re all the same—if you’re all monsters—then what’s left?

There’s only one answer.

Whoever wins.

The only law that exists now is power.

Not justice. Not fairness. Not mercy.

Just power.

And the only ones who get to live in this world are the ones strong enough to take it for themselves.

Survival of the fittest.

That’s what the world was before, and it’s what the world is now. Only now, the stakes are higher. Much higher.

Because before, losing meant failure.

Now? It means death.

And if you hesitate, if you second-guess, if you let yourself be weighed down by the ghost of a world that no longer exists—

You’ll lose.

And the world won’t mourn you. It won’t stop. It won’t care. It will keep turning, indifferent to the bodies left behind, to the names that fade into nothing.

Because nothing from before matters anymore.

Not the rules. Not the morals. Not the person you used to be. You can no longer afford to hold on to the past.

Because the past won’t save you.

Only the future will.

And the only way to have a future—is to take it.

"You think you’ll make it out of here alive if you pull that trigger?” you challenge her, forcing your voice to remain calm, steady. She tilts her head, lips curling into something almost amused as she meets your eyes.

“You should’ve left when you had the chance,” she says, completely disregarding your threat. The blood in your veins turns cold. 

“But who knows? Maybe A will let some of you go. Like what we did with The Future,” she continues, leaning in slightly, as if daring you to flinch. “Let them scurry back to HQ like little mice. So they know to never come back here again.”

Her grin widens, twisting into something cruel. “And now that you’re here, fallen right into our trap, you’ll soon be one of us!” She laughs, the sound sharp and jagged, like glass shattering in the quiet.

Never come back here again…

Soon be one of us…?

The words settle like a stone in your chest. And then, like a curtain being pulled back, you see it—the bigger picture.

She’s laughing. She thinks she’s won. But she doesn't realise what she's just given away.

If A and his people wanted you dead, they wouldn’t have resorted to games. They wouldn’t have wasted time luring you into an ambush or toying with you—not with all these guns and ammos at their disposal. No, they would’ve wiped you out back at that forest clearing when they had the chance. 

They haven’t. They insist on bringing the dead down on you—because they have an ulterior motive. 

They don’t want you dead. They want you alive. 

Why? 

Because only when you’re alive—when you’re standing, breathing, fighting—can you turn. Turn into the very army of the dead they control. Become one of them.

That’s why they let The Future walk away. Not out of mercy. Not because they couldn’t fight them. But because they didn’t need to. The Future was never the target—you were. They wanted you to lead the others right back here. They’ve been waiting for this moment.

And The Future? The Future won’t come back. Not for revenge. Not for a counterattack. They cut their losses and retreated—not because they were outnumbered, not because they were weak, but because they were unaware.

They didn’t understand what they were fighting. They couldn’t defend against something they had no clue how to fight. They knew they couldn’t stand against an enemy that moves undetected through hordes of the dead. Couldn’t win against an army that grows stronger with every person it kills.

So they ran.

But you? You don’t have to. Because you know exactly what’s coming.

And now, standing in the heart of what should have been your own grave, you see it—hope. This place isn’t just a temporary solution. It’s an opportunity.

If A and his people could take this place, then so can you. If they could push out The Future, then there’s a way to do the same to them. And if they could survive out there, using the dead as shields and weapons, then you can find a way to use it against them.

Your fingers tighten into fists.

If you secure this place, they’ll never have to run again.

Not from A. Not from The Future. Not from anyone.

You let out a slow breath, forcing your heartbeat to steady as you shift your stance, eyes locking onto hers.

She thinks she’s won. Thinks she’s backed you all into a corner. But she’s just handed you everything you needed to know.

You tilt your head slightly, allowing the barest hint of a smirk to tug at your lips. “What makes you so confident we can’t just take it from you?”

Her smirk holds firm, but you catch the slightest twitch in her expression—just for a second. “Oh?” she muses, arching a brow. “I’d love to see you try going up against military-trained personnel and a horde of zombies. It’ll be fun.”

You shrug, feigning indifference. “Who said anything about confrontation?” You let the words hang in the air, watching carefully as confusion flickers across her face. “If you lot figured out how to walk with the dead, why can’t we do the same?”

For the first time, her bravado falters. Her eyes widen ever so slightly, and there it is—realisation and doubt all at once. Almost like she had never thought about it. Which makes sense because you finding out about their mechanics, isn't part of their plan.

That hesitation—that moment of uncertainty—is all Sunoo needs.

He moves in a blur, striking before she even registers what’s happening. His fingers close around her wrist, twisting sharply as he wrenches the gun from her grip. It clatters to the floor with a thud, and in a single fluid motion, Sunoo has her pinned.

She lets out a sharp grunt, struggling against his hold, but she’s at a disadvantage—distracted, handicapped, unarmed.

And just like that, the tides turn. Sunghoon is on her in seconds, his knee pressing into her back as he yanks her arm behind her. The fight drains from her quickly, the weight of the situation finally sinking in.

You exhale, the adrenaline still buzzing beneath your skin, your mind racing through every possibility.

This place can be yours.

They don’t have to run anymore.

Hope is starting to take root.

“Fools. You think it’s easy? Walking among the dead?” she sneers, her voice laced with mockery despite the fact she’s sprawled face-down on the cold, hard floor. Sunghoon’s hands move swiftly over her, searching for any hidden weapons. 

“It takes everything you are to walk with the dead.”

There’s something unsettling in the way she says it, something almost reverent. Like she’s speaking of a religion rather than survival.

Sunoo scoffs, standing over her with her pistol now in his hands. He checks the magazine, clicks the safety on and off before shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, keep talking, lady. It’s not getting you anywhere.”

But she just smirks. That same infuriating smirk that hasn’t left her face since the moment she was caught. She’s lying completely still now, unnaturally calm as Sunghoon and Heeseung haul her up onto a chair. She doesn’t resist—not even when they start binding her arms—or whatever's left of it—tightly behind her, securing the coarse rope around her torso and the back of the chair. If anything, she lets them.

"I've really underestimated you, Y/N." Her voice drips with amusement, her lips curling into something eerily close to admiration, but there’s something sharper beneath it—something darker. "You’re not just similar—you’re just like us. Conniving. Merciless. Dead."

She giggles then, a sound too light, too mocking for the weight of her words, for the quiet horror settling deep in your chest. "You might not even need to wear their skin to walk with the dead."

A chill slithers down your spine, but you force yourself to hold her gaze, to not give her the satisfaction of seeing how deeply her words sink in. Heeseung pulls the final knot tight, the rough rope biting into her skin, binding her in place. Yet, she doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t struggle. She just leans back, head resting against the chair, exhaling like she’s settling in, like she’s making herself comfortable rather than sitting bound and at your mercy.

As if she’s the one in control.

"But don’t say I didn’t warn you," she murmurs, her voice almost singsong, a taunting lilt woven through her words. They linger in the space between you, curling like smoke, seeping under your skin. The room feels too quiet now, as if the weight of what she just said has stolen all the air from it.

She tilts her head slightly, her eyes gleaming—not with anger, not with fear, but with something worse. Something that almost looks like pity.

"You’ll understand what I mean soon."

The smirk widens. It stretches across her face, slow and deliberate. You stare at it for too long—long enough for Ni-ki to shove a loose piece of cloth into her mouth, silencing whatever cryptic words she might have let slip next.

But her eyes remain fixed on you, unwavering. Cold. Calculating.

You can’t look away.

Something about the way she’s staring at you feels wrong. Like she’s seeing straight through you, past the layers you’ve built, past the walls you’ve tried to keep up. Like she’s already figured you out before you’ve even figured out yourself. Like she knows exactly how this will play out, and you don’t.

In that sense, you’re already losing. Not in the way you expected—not in battle, not in blood, not in death. But in yourself. Because you can feel it, can sense it creeping in at the edges of your mind, curling into your thoughts, whispering where doubt used to be.

You’ve already begun losing yourself.

It’s only when someone calls you over that you manage to tear your gaze away, the spell breaking.

“What the fuck happened, Sunoo? Where did she come from?” Heeseung demands the second they’re out of earshot, his voice low but urgent.

Sunoo, however, huffs, dramatically rubbing at his wrist as if he’s the real victim here. “Geez, I’m fine, thanks for asking,” he grumbles.

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “Sunoo.”

“I was in the basement,” Sunoo starts, crossing his arms, “looking for anything we could use to fortify the barricades. Found this stack of those things—the masks—hidden away in one of the boxes shoved in the corner. Thought, great, more nightmare fuel. And then—bam! She jumped me out of fucking nowhere. How the fuck was I supposed to know she was there?”

His frustration is evident, his gestures exaggerated as he recounts the moment. “If I had known, her one-armed bitchass wouldn’t have even been able to pull that gun on me like that. Ugh.”

The irritation in his voice doesn’t quite mask the underlying unease. She had been down there the whole time—hidden, watching, waiting. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling of being watched.

And yet, you left them here. With her.

A chill runs down your spine. The weight of realisation presses against your ribs, suffocating, threatening to pull you under. But before your mind can spiral further, you hear it—your name.

Spoken by the very voice you’ve been yearning to hear call out your name since you left.

“Y/N.”

Jungwon.

“Are you okay?”

Your breath catches as you turn to face him. His expression is unreadable at first, but his eyes—his eyes betray him. There’s worry there, concern woven into the fabric of his gaze, despite everything. Despite the fight. Despite the fact that you left. You walked away. And yet, here he is, standing before you, asking if you’re okay.

He still cares.

You don’t trust your voice. You’re afraid it’ll betray you, that it’ll crack under the sheer force of everything you’re feeling. That if you try to speak, all that will come out will be fragments of whimpers, of apologies left unsaid.

So instead, you nod. A small, barely perceptible movement. The best you can offer.

Jungwon watches you for a moment, searching. Then, after what feels like an eternity, he nods back. A silent exchange. An understanding.

“Y/N… did you really mean that?” Ni-ki’s voice cuts through the thick tension, pulling your attention away from Jungwon. You turn to him, barely registering the weight of his question. Your mind is still foggy, reeling from everything.

“You think we can walk with the dead?” Ni-ki presses, his gaze unwavering.

“I—I don’t know.” The words feel hollow in your mouth, the uncertainty hanging in the air like a guillotine. Your eyes drop to the ground, unable to meet his stare. “I’m sorry, I just—I always say shit, but half the time, I don’t even know if it’ll work.”

A beat of silence. Then, you swallow hard, forcing yourself to push through the self-doubt. “But… I have seen them do it. They blend in with just a mask over their heads. It can work.”

“But once they get inside the walls, it’s going to be chaos. It’ll be dark. We’ll probably lose sight of one another. You won’t even know if the zombie in front of you is actually dead or one of them.”

“Wait. Once they get inside?” Heeseung’s voice is sharp, cutting through the moment like a blade. His eyes narrow, scanning your face. “You’re saying we let them in?”

Ni-ki exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head as if trying to process it all. 

You inhale deeply, forcing yourself to meet their gazes. “You and I both know the barricades won’t last,” you say, steadying your voice. “Against a normal horde, maybe. But they will be walking among them. Herding them. Pushing them against the gates. Even if they can’t break through the main entrance, they’ll find another way in.”

The unspoken horror settles over the group and you see the fear flicker across their faces.

“But if we leave the gate open,” you continue, your voice quieter now, more deliberate, “they’ll walk in on their own. And we can blend right in.”

“Okay, but then what?” Jake asks, his voice cautious, calculating. “What do we do after that?”

“We take them out.” You don’t hesitate this time. You don’t waver. You meet his gaze head-on. “From within.”

A thick silence follows your words. You can feel it—the doubt, the fear, the pure insanity of what you’re proposing.

“Fight?” Sunghoon is the first to break the silence, his voice incredulous. “Surrounded by the dead? You must be insane.” He lets out a bitter scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. “The moment we make a single sound that doesn’t match the dead, we’re finished. You know that.”

You exhale, willing yourself to stay patient. “No,” you say firmly. “Not fight. Just—sneak up on them. Get close. A small cut, enough to draw blood. That’s all we need. The scent will do the rest.”

They stare at you.

Realisation dawns.

It’s not about fighting. It’s not about going up against them in a losing battle. It’s about turning their own strategy against them. The horde is their weapon. But it can be yours too.

Heeseung’s throat bobs as he swallows. “You mean…” His voice trails off, understanding sinking in.

You nod. “We let the horde do it’s job.”

The plan is reckless. Insane. Dangerous. But it’s the only shot you have. 

And if you’re being honest—it’s a solid plan. But you’re not sure if it’s a plan you’re proud to have come up with. You should be. A plan like this—calculated, ruthless, effective—should bring you some sense of relief. Some assurance that you can outthink them, that you can survive this.

It makes sense. It’s logical. It’s exactly the kind of plan The Future would execute without hesitation if they had known what was coming for them. And that’s what unsettles you the most. 

Jungwon hasn’t spoken. He’s been listening, watching, absorbing every word you’ve said. When you glance at him, he’s already looking at you—his expression unreadable, his gaze sharp and searching, as if trying to pick apart what’s going on inside your head.

You’re dragged back to your conversation with Jay on the rooftop. The way he told you—so plainly, so matter-of-factly—that Jungwon relies on you more than he lets on. That you bring him comfort in ways you never realised.

Then your mind goes back further. To the conversation with Jungwon yesterday. The way he told you that he felt a sense of reprieve when you came along. That you were his moral compass.

The weight of that knowledge settles in your chest, and then, just as quickly, it twists into guilt. It crashes over you like a tsunami.

You wonder if he still feels that way about you.

“Sounds like a plan.” Jay’s voice cuts through the silence like a blade, slicing through the tension that had been suffocating the group. Everyone turns to him, eyes wide, like he’s just said something insane.

You’re staring at him too.

“Why are y’all looking at me like that? I’m not the one that came up with this insanity.” His lips twitch with the ghost of a smirk, but the humour doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Then, as if on cue, they all turn to you. Then back to Jay as he continues, “But it’s a plan that could work,”

“Of course you think that,” Jake snaps, his frustration bubbling over. “You’re always about killing people. I mean, look what got us into this shit in the first place.”

The words hang heavy in the air, and you know he doesn’t mean it—not fully. It’s the fear talking. The frustration. The sheer helplessness of the situation that’s clouding his judgement. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

For a moment, you expect Jay to fight back. To argue. To defend himself. 

But he doesn’t. 

Instead, he giggles. It’s a quiet, breathy thing at first—then it morphs into something sharper, something bitter, something unhinged. And it unnerves you.

“You’re right,” Jay says, still grinning, his voice eerily calm. “If I could go back to that night when I went after him, I’d have made sure I watched him die before I left.”

The silence that follows is deafening. 

Then, you feel it—the weight of it pressing down on everyone’s shoulders. No one dares to speak, as if acknowledging it would make them sinners.

And the worst part?

You had said something along those lines to Jay, back at the field. You told him if you were in his shoes, you’d have done worse. But back then it was a figure of speech, a way to make a point. You hadn’t really thought about it, hadn’t truly placed yourself in his shoes, in the heat of that moment.

But now?

Now, you know.

You would have done the same.

And hearing Jay say that—hearing him put words to the rage, to the vengeance clawing its way up your throat—it brings you a twisted sense of relief. A reassurance that you’re not the only person losing yourself in this fucked-up world.

And maybe that’s why you don’t flinch. Maybe that’s why, instead of recoiling from his words, you find yourself gripping onto them like an anchor, like something grounding you in the mess of it all.

Sunoo clears his throat, shifting awkwardly, his fingers tightening around the pistol he’d confiscated from the woman. “Alright, well. That’s… dark.” He tries to break the tension with forced levity, but no one laughs.

No one even breathes.

Jake rubs his face with both hands before exhaling sharply, shaking his head like he’s trying to clear his thoughts, like if he could just reset for a second, maybe this whole situation would make more sense. Ni-ki shifts uncomfortably beside him, his fingers twitching at his sides. His gaze flickers toward Jungwon, waiting—hoping—for him to say something. Anything.

But Jungwon is quiet.

He’s still watching you, his expression unreadable. There’s no anger in his eyes, no judgement, not even disappointment. Just thought.

And that’s almost worse. 

Because you know that look. It’s the same one he gets when he’s met with an epiphany. When something suddenly clicks into place in his mind, when a realisation takes hold and refuses to let go.

He’s thinking.

Not just about the plan. Not just about them.

He’s trying to make sense of you. Trying to piece together something about you that he hadn’t considered before—

No.

Something about himself. Something about his own moral dilemma. Something he’s been trying to lock away, bury deep beneath all the responsibilities, all the weight on his shoulders.

Jungwon blinks once, his gaze hardening, focus snapping back to the present.

“If we’re doing this, we can’t leave any room for error.” Jungwon’s voice slices through the silence, steady but weighted. It’s the first thing he’s said in minutes, and yet it carries the kind of finality that makes your stomach twist.

He’s still looking at you, but it’s different now. It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time—not just as another survivor, not just as someone he needs to protect, but as something else. Something more dangerous.

Something like him.

And for the first time, you see it too.

You’ve cracked something in him. You’ve forced him to acknowledge something he hadn’t wanted to. You’ve opened Pandora’s box.

He knows it. You know it.

But neither of you say it.

“We can’t leave any room for error,” Jungwon repeats, his voice firm, sharp with an edge that slices through the tension like a blade. “We do this clean. Precise. No heroics. No last-minute changes. We stick to the plan, and we survive.”

The shift is immediate. The air changes. Everyone straightens, pulling themselves together, waiting for instruction. No one argues. Not even Sunghoon, who had been the first to call you insane. Because there’s no alternative. No second option. It’s this, or death.

Jungwon’s eyes sweep across the group, calculating, weighing every person’s strengths and weaknesses in the space of a single breath. “We’ll move in groups. When the dead come through, we stay in pairs. No one moves alone. We cover for each other, watch each other’s backs.”

His gaze lands on Jay. “You’re still injured. One wrong move and your stitches will come apart. Not to mention you have the biggest target on your back. So, you stay on the roof.”

Jay’s mouth opens, already ready to protest, but Jungwon cuts him off with a look. “We’ll cut the access off, so nothing can get to you. You’ll have the best vantage point—watch for gaps, any tight spots, and make noise to draw attention elsewhere if things start getting too close.”

Jay exhales sharply, jaw tightening, but he nods. He knows better than to argue.

Jungwon turns to the rest of the group, his expression unreadable. “Like Y/N said, it’s going to be dark. We won’t be able to see clearly, but neither will they. Remember, you just need to draw blood. The dead will do the rest.”

Jungwon’s gaze sweeps across them, sharp, calculating. His hands are loose at his sides, but there’s tension in his stance.

“And they don’t know that we’re on to them,” he continues. His voice is even, but there’s something colder beneath it now—something sharp-edged and deliberate. “We use that to our advantage. Move slow, stay quiet. Don’t rush. If you panic, you die.”

The words settle in like a final nail sealing a coffin.

A heavy silence settles over the group, thick and oppressive, pressing into your lungs like a vice. The weight of the plan is suffocating in its reality. The risk, the blood that will spill before the night is over. 

This is it. 

There’s no turning back. No room for hesitation. No time to process the sheer insanity of what you’re about to do. Your hands feel too light, your heartbeat too loud, hammering against your ribs like it’s trying to escape. 

You picture the bodies—your people, their people, the dead in between—limbs tangled, faces unrecognisable beneath the blood and decay. 

What if you fail? What if you hesitate at the wrong moment? What if someone doesn’t make it? What if you don’t make it? Would it matter? Would it change anything? Would the world even notice if one more person disappeared? 

You inhale sharply, trying to ground yourself, but the air feels thin, slipping through your fingers like sand. You don’t realise you’re gripping the hem of your jacket too tightly until your knuckles ache. 

Move. Breathe. Don’t think. 

Because thinking means fear, and fear means weakness, and weakness means death.

Your mind spirals again. It’s been doing that a lot—a relentless, asphyxiating current dragging you under. And just as it’s about to bury you, a palm presses against the small of your back. Warm. Grounding. Your breath hitches at the unexpected touch.

"Y/N, let’s talk."

Jungwon’s voice is quiet but firm, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside you.

He doesn’t wait for a response, simply leading you away, up to the rooftop, where the two of you are left standing under the weight of everything unsaid. You face him, but suddenly, all the words you’ve been rehearsing, all the explanations and apologies you’ve run through in your head over and over, disappear. The moment you look at him—at the quiet intensity in his gaze, the weight in his shoulders—you’re speechless.

Jungwon opens his mouth first. "I—"

But you don’t let him finish. The words burst out of you before you can stop them, raw and desperate. "I’m sorry." Your voice wavers, thick with emotion. "I’m sorry I left you. I know now that I shouldn’t have. God, I was so stupid."

The words come faster now, tumbling over themselves. "I know you said before that you don’t hate me, but you must hate me now—after everything. After I left you. I left you to die." Your breath shudders, a sob catching in your throat. The tears you’ve been holding back finally spill over, burning hot against your skin. "I’m so sorry, Jungwon. I—"

He exhales sharply, shaking his head as if exasperated. "God, you never let me speak, do you?"

You blink through your tears, caught off guard. "What?"

Jungwon watches you for a moment before his expression softens, something almost amused ghosting across his face. "I told you before, I don’t hate you." His voice is steady, deliberate. "Nothing in this world will ever make me hate you."

You struggle to believe it, your chest tightening as you shake your head. "But I saw it." Your voice is barely a whisper. "That look on your face, when I suggested this insane of an idea."

You swallow, trying to steady yourself. "I thought I told you I didn’t want you to think. To second-guess what you’ve always believed in just to weigh me in."

Jungwon sighs, rubbing a hand over his face before lowering it again. "Well, it can’t be helped," he murmurs. "You’re someone that makes me think. A lot."

His words make something crack inside you, splintering under the weight of your guilt. "I’m sorry." Your voice is smaller this time. "I’m sorry I brought out the worst in you. All I did was shatter your resolve."

Your gaze drops, unable to bear looking at him any longer. "And them? Have you seen the way they look at me? They look at me like I’m a monster."

Jungwon tilts his head slightly. "No," he counters. "Have you seen the way they look at you?"

His response catches you off guard. You open your mouth to argue, to insist that you’ve seen their fear, their hesitation. But something about his tone makes you stop. He gestures for you to look, to truly look.

And so you do.

Your eyes drift down to the group below.

Fear, dread, terror���it’s all there, woven into their expressions, etched into their postures, marinating in the thin air. It clings to them like a suffocating fog, thick and unrelenting. Your stomach churns at the sight of it.

But then, as you really take them in, you notice something else. You see it in the tight-set jaws, the clenched fists, the flickering light behind their eyes. You see it as clear as day—something beneath the fear, the dread, the sheer, gut-wrenching terror.

Determination.

Resolve.

Hope—

"Hope." Jungwon’s voice cuts through the moment, soft but certain.

The word reverberates through you, lodging itself deep in your chest. He says it as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking. As if he sees the moment you realise what you’ve done.

"And you gave that to them."

His words knock the breath from your lungs.

Hope. The very thing you ran from. The thing you tried to abandon. The thing you convinced yourself was a lie, a cruel trick played by the universe.

And yet, here it is. Staring back at you in the eyes of the people you are trying to save.

Jungwon studies your face, watching as the realisation settles into you. Then, almost casually, he asks, "Has anyone told you what division I was in back when we were still in The Future?"

You blink, thrown off by the sudden change in topic. "No," you admit.

He exhales, his gaze flickering to the horizon before meeting yours again. "Tactical Functions."

The words hang heavy in the air between you. You wait for him to elaborate.

"I was one of the people who decided who got to stay and who was expelled. I played a part designing the tactics and strategies The Future used against the communities around them. All hell could break loose, and I would still be prioritised to stay. Because they needed people like me."

Your blood runs cold.

Jungwon’s voice remains even, but there’s something detached in it now. "You can’t bring the worst out of me, Y/N. I’m already him. And every night, I would see their faces in my sleep. In the trees. In the breeze." He swallows, his throat bobbing. "What’s worse is the only reason I even suggested we leave in the first place was because the committee brought up the discussion to expel Jay for insubordination."

Your breath hitches. "Jay?"

Jungwon lets out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Yeah. The man just couldn’t sit still without stirring some kind of shit. And they saw it. Saw how he could be a problem to the system. So, I orchestrated the entire escape. I left those people to reap the consequences of my actions. And I’d only done it because of Jay. If it wasn't for him, I would've sucked it up and continued doing whatever it took for us to survive.”

A weight settles in your chest, heavy and unrelenting.

He turns to you fully now, his eyes unwavering. "So no, I’m not going to sit here and let you talk about yourself like that."

It's a shocking revelation. Your mind reels, trying to reconcile the Jungwon standing before you with the boy who once stood on the watchtower, his voice laced with pure, unfiltered hatred.

You still remember that night vividly—the way his face twisted with something raw and wounded when he first told you about The Future. The way his voice dripped with venom as he spoke of them as something worse than the dead. Back then, you thought it was just anger, just the words of someone who had been wronged, betrayed, and left to fend for himself.

But now, the truth wraps around the two of you in a slow, suffocating chokehold.

He wasn’t just talking about them.

He was talking about himself.

It’s only now that you realise—when he cursed The Future, when he spat their name like it was poison, it wasn’t just about what they had done to others. It was about what they had turned him into. What they had forced him to become.

Jungwon looks at you, waiting for a response. But what can you even say? That it’s not his fault? That he was just doing what he had to do to survive? You already know those words will mean nothing to him.

"I—I didn’t know." Your voice is barely above a whisper when you say.

"Now you do."

Jungwon tilts his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "And knowing what you know, does that change how you see me?"

Your response is immediate. "God, no. Never."

A flicker of something—relief, maybe—passes through his eyes. He nods, as if confirming something to himself.

"Precisely. And that's why you don't have to worry about how I see you.”

A humourless laugh escapes him, but it lacks warmth. "I was crazy to think I could be even a fraction of a good person. Maybe my obsession with holding onto my humanity was just deluded because I had already lost it a long time ago."

His voice drops to something quieter, almost contemplative. "And hearing you and Jay say that? It made me feel… normal. Which, in hindsight, fucking sucks."

A faint, bitter smile tugs at his lips. "But it’s oddly liberating."

All this time, you had convinced yourself that you were a burden to him, that your presence chipped away at his resolve, that you were the thing dragging him into the dark. You thought you were making him worse—forcing him to question himself, to second-guess the beliefs he had once stood so firmly upon.

But standing here, you realise the truth is something entirely different.

You weren’t breaking him.

You were keeping him together.

Jungwon was relying on you in ways you hadn’t even considered—not just for your insight, not just for your ability to challenge him, but for something far more simple. Something far more human.

You made him feel normal.

In a world that demanded ruthlessness, in a life that had forced him to carry responsibilities far heavier than any human being should bear, you were the thing that reminded him he was still just a person. Not just a leader. Not just a tactician. Not just the one keeping them all alive.

Just Jungwon.

And maybe you needed him for the same reasons.

Maybe the two of you had been holding onto each other without even realising it, tethering yourselves to something real in a world that had long since lost its meaning.

Tears spill down your cheeks before your brain even registers them. They come silently, effortlessly, like they belong there—as if your body has been holding onto them, waiting for this moment to finally let go. You don’t wipe them away. You just let them fall, streaking warmth down your cold, dirt-streaked skin.

It’s a bittersweet moment, one that catches you off guard with how deeply it settles into your chest. And you realise, standing here in the quiet, in the wreckage of everything you once thought you believed in—how truly fucked up the two of you are.

But it’s not the kind of fucked up that makes you recoil. It’s the kind that makes you stop and think.

Because if you had truly lost your humanity, would you be standing here now? Would you be looking at Jungwon, voice trembling, hands shaking, with tears running down your face? Would he be standing here, looking at you with something equally raw and conflicted in his expression?

No. You’d be long gone. And they’d all be dead.

But you’re here. You came back. And it’s because you have your humanity that you did.

It’s because Jungwon has his humanity that he’s still here, still standing, still trying. Still fighting to be something more than the sum of his past.

Yes, you’re fucked up. You’d cross lines. You’d do the unimaginable. You’d become a version of yourself you never thought possible if it meant keeping the people you care about alive.

But if that’s what it means to survive in this world, if that’s what it takes to hold onto even the smallest fraction of something real—then maybe it’s not such a bad thing.

Maybe it means you’re still human after all.

And in that sense, you’re fucked up in the most beautiful way the world has left to offer.

Your eyes flicker to his hands, catching the way his fingers twitch at his sides, hesitant, uncertain. He’s deciding whether to reach for you—whether to wipe your tears away or let them fall.

It reminds you of this morning. The way he had extended his hands towards you, offering comfort, only for you to step away. You remember the flicker of hurt in his eyes when it happened 

This time, you won’t step away.

Before you can second-guess yourself, you move, reaching out and grabbing his hands. Jungwon flinches at the sudden contact, startled, his breath hitching ever so slightly. His fingers twitch beneath yours, as if caught off guard by your warmth. For a second, he just looks at you, wide-eyed, unreadable, but you don’t let him pull away.

Gently, deliberately, you guide his hand to your face, pressing his palm against your tear-streaked cheek.

His expression shifts. The surprise fades, softening into something else—something quieter, something careful. His thumb brushes against your skin, tentative at first, then firmer, wiping away the tears that refuse to stop falling.

“Y/N…” your name comes out tender. So achingly tender that it makes your throat tighten, your chest ache.

His touch is careful, almost reverent, as if he’s afraid that if he presses too hard, you’ll shatter. But you won’t. Not here, not now. You lean into his palm, closing your eyes for just a moment, letting yourself soak in the warmth, the steadiness of him.

Jungwon exhales, his breath shaky, as though he’s only just realised how much he wanted to touch you. His hands are calloused but warm, grounding, steady. His fingers move instinctively, tracing the curve of your cheek, brushing the dampness away with an intimacy that makes your stomach twist.

Then, without thinking, you move closer.

Your hands leave his, trailing up to his wrists, then his arms, gripping onto him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth. Maybe he is. Your breath stutters as you take another step, closing the space between you.

Jungwon freezes, his fingers going still against your cheek. You can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding himself back, waiting, unsure.

So you make the choice for him.

You fall into him.

His arms come up instantly, as if on instinct, wrapping around you the moment your body collides with his. His grip is firm, solid, like he’s been waiting for this just as much as you have. His breath catches against your temple, his body warm and steady as he pulls you in, pressing you close.

And you let him.

You let yourself melt into his embrace, burying your face into the crook of his neck, the scent of him—faint traces of sweat, earth, and something inherently Jungwon—flooding your senses. His heartbeat is strong beneath your palms, his chest rising and falling with each breath, grounding you in a way you hadn’t realised you needed.

His arms tighten around you, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other splayed across your back, holding you together as if you might slip away if he lets go.

Neither of you speak. There’s nothing that needs to be said.

This is enough.

This moment, this embrace, this quiet understanding between the two of you.

Jungwon exhales, the tension in his body easing as he presses his forehead against the side of your head. You feel the way his fingers curl slightly against your back, as if anchoring himself to you, as if you’re the only thing keeping him from falling apart too.

His breath is warm against your temple, steady and grounding. You can feel the weight of his past pressing between you, the guilt he carries like a second skin, the ghosts of decisions he can never undo.

You wonder if he can feel it—the weight you carry pressed between you, the invisible burdens you’ve never spoken aloud, the guilt of saving yourself when the community building fell, the regret of walking away from him when he needed you most, the haunting thought that maybe, just maybe, you were always destined to be alone.

The ghosts of your past intertwine with his, shadows merging, regrets bleeding into one another. He’s carried his burdens alone for so long, just as you’ve carried yours. And maybe neither of you are saints—maybe you’ve both done unspeakable things, crossed lines that can never be uncrossed. 

But here, now, in this moment, none of that matters.

Because, here, now, in this moment, that weight is shared.

And somehow, it feels lighter.

So you stay like this, wrapped up in each other, holding onto something fragile, something unspoken. Neither of you dare to move, as if the slightest shift might shatter whatever this is, whatever red strings of fate have bound you together in this cruel, unforgiving world.

part 4 - blood | masterlist | part 5 - dusk

♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

notes from nat: this part was supposed to be wayyyyyy longer but i've been nerfed by the block limit (y'all can thank tumblr for that). so what was originally suppose to be 6 parts, i will have to extend into 7 because i doubt i can squeeze everything into one post. from this part onwards, there will be no update schedule. i appreciate your understanding on this as i'm writing on my own free time outside of my 9-5. i'm really sorry for the disappointment because i know how eager some of y'all are to read this and i also want y'all to get these chapters asap!! T.T

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non-grey/underlined = cannot tag

[kazscrows]

Whatever you do don’t imagine years in the future, after they’ve worked through their traumas, and both have healed together, Kaz and Inej lying by each other, and definitely don’t think about Kaz waking up in the mornings and the first thing he sees is Inej and he smiles, because she’s there with him, and they’re safe and happy. There’s no gloves, no extra layers, no knives, or tightly coiled hair. The armor has been removed. It’s just them. Some days are still hard, but it’s okay, because they have each other to bring the other back when one of them is drowning.. vanishing.. the other lifts them up, reminds them who they are. Don’t imagine Kaz mumbling her name, in the softest voice, because he’s still half asleep, so it comes out just as ‘…Nej’ and don’t imagine Inej stirring at the familiar sound of his voice, meeting his eyes, and smiling so brightly that Kaz’s breath catches, just like it does each and every time. Don’t imagine him making her laugh as they lie there, and he hears the sound of it and marvels that there’s once again magic in his life, because he’s with her and she’s with him, and all is right in their world. Don’t you dare.

[arolesbianism]

I’ve been getting withdrawals from not making random worldbuilding characters that don’t matter to the actual plot. Anyways meet 60 👍

[backinmyphase]

"A gift from our village for the king, the great Lord Sukuna!"

There was cheering behind you, firing up the hatred for these people who threw you out for the lion the second their life was threatened. The king was sitting there, chin on his hand as his eyes went over you. You knew he was making out your worth right now. Deciding if you were really good enough for a gift.

He was a strange looking man. Four arms, two different sides of a face, marks everywhere and you could see with just how he was sitting that he had a tall frame.

He was strange, but more like fascinating strange. However, that wouldn't make you hate him any less. After all he was the reason these people, you called your people once, gave you away that easily.

If only he didn't exist.

"You are staring."

His voice is deep but with a tint of mockery. Normally you would lower your head. If you were normal thinking, you wouldn't have risked your head for a snappy comment. No, you would have just kept your mouth shut.

"You are too."

There were many gasps. The strange monk with white hair next to him frowned. But the Lord didn't even raise an eyebrow.

Instead he stood up and you saw you were correct with your assumption, he was towering above everyone here. He slowly made his steps towards you. Now you were realizing how dangerous your action was. Just the way his presence made you want to hide was enough prove that he was danger. He stopped before you, looking down on you.

His hand found it's way to your chin lifting it, so you kept looking at him. You knew you shouldn't move. One snap with his finger and you would be... Oh well.

"I am." he grinned, while meeting your eyes. His were red. So unbelievable red, only blood could be.

"I hope I am allowed."

The silence spoke loud. You knew he was mocking you. He was making out right now if he should kill you or not, you were sure. There was just no way out of it, the decision was purely relying on his mood.

"Of course the king is allowed!" you heard screams from the people behind you.

"Lord Sukuna can do whatever he wants, no commoner can speak with him that way!"

There was loud mumbling of agreement behind you, which made your body stiffen. They were trying to get on his good side, there was no doubt.

"Offering such a pretty flower, just because they heard I was coming. Assuming I would destroy this place." his fingers were slowly caressing your chin. "You must be angry they were so willing to give you to me, are you not?"

You blinked at him, seeing his grin growing.

"Want me to kill them?"

The mumbling immediately died down, the tension now palpable in the air. Sukuna was still staring, watching your every move, even just the glancing of your eyes. You were shaking. But not just out of fear.

"I don't need them to die." You saw how Sukuna raised an eyebrow while there was small sighing behind you, just until you spoke again. "But...

If you did want to kill them, I wouldn't be mad enough to stop you."

The only thing you heard was your own breathing. The people behind you were quiet like they were not even there. You didn't look at them no, you didn't dare to.

Not when the king was looking into your eyes.

Then he let go off your chin and started laughing. Just laughing for an unbearable long time. Time, in which you wondered if you were dead now.

But he just shook his head while his laughter died down.

"Uraume, bring her to the estate." The white haired monk was already by your side. They were looking at him with a curious glance.

"And you my lord?"

"I have a Village to kill."

Part 2

[obbystars]

Drown in the Deep

Synopsis: Drown your sorrows away into the deep dark ocean where it can’t be found. Feel its cold embrace and let the water in. Maybe then, you’ll see him again when you no longer feel anything.

CONTENT WARNING: The reader very much intends to die/get themself killed, detailing how they’d love to drown in the abyss.

Notes: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader / Spoilers for Sebastian’s backstory / Possibly OOC / Established relationship, can be interpreted as either married or not but they are living together / Angst (Hurt w/ eventual comfort) / Death + blood (not the reader despite the synopsis and content warning) / Not really a happy ending honestly

(This is VERY self-indulgent I love hate Sebastian. Also a bit of experimentation and playing around with his character. I’m not so good on romance stuff, so I hope what’s here is to your liking. Also rewrote some parts A LOT due to idea change/read up on lore and realized things didn’t add up here. I think I’ve got most of it covered though. Anyway I love how a few runs of playing Pressure for the first time, I died to A-60 HAHAAAAA kill me.)

Credits: Dividers by @cafekitsune

A chance to be freed from your criminal record, and a reward worth to last for a very, very long time. As they always say, “High risk, high reward,” and the risks were certainly high. You could very much die. It was a chance anyone crazy enough would take.

But you didn’t sign up for this for the reward. You didn’t care about it in the slightest. To you, this would be an easy way out. An escape from this dreadful life fate had decided for you. So here you are, sitting in a submarine with three others in silence. There’s no telling on how deep you’re going, they never bothered to tell you how exactly far it was nor the possible dangers you’ll be facing. You’ll welcome anything if it means you won’t wake up again.

Still, you wondered why things went the way it did. Everything was fine until your partner was framed for a murder he didn’t commit. Nine murders, to be exact. You were there for the trial. You saw and heard everything. You kept your cool throughout all of it. You were hoping, praying to whatever god is out there to show them he was innocent. None of it mattered in the end.

After the trial, you went straight home, not even bothering to listen to your family who was also there. By the time you entered your shared home and locked the door behind you, you stood in silence for a while. You didn’t know what you were feeling at that very moment. You felt hot tears beginning to swell up, and your vision beginning to blur. Your legs eventually give out and you fell to your knees. You muffled your sobs with your hand as you curled up on the floor.

You couldn’t get yourself to calm down for a while. You don’t even know how long you were laying there once you feel your tears dry up and the sound of your heart beating rapidly leaves your ears. You don’t know what to do.

He was imprisoned and sentenced for execution for the nine murders you know he didn’t cause, but that didn’t matter. You weren’t there when it supposedly happened. You couldn’t prove anything. You were powerless to do anything.

Many early mornings were spent struggling to even leave the house, let alone the bed itself if you even managed to drag yourself to bed. You were too exhausted to even try for most. When you did manage to begin your day, you quickly became aware that everything is so much more irritating. People talking to you, certain noises you hear, how your food tastes… You just wanted to go back home and waste away.

As for majority of your nights, they have been spent just curled up in bed and crying until you eventually exhausted yourself. Gripping anything that resembled or had traces left of him and holding it close, hoping just the mere fleeting scent of him lulls you to sleep. Feeling the cold and empty space beside you and being reminded he’s gone, as if the reminders from your family weren’t already enough.

You know your family has been trying to contact you, sometimes even coming to the house, but you’ve ignored them every time. You don’t want to see them. You don’t want to talk, to hear, or to even think about them. You just wanted to be left alone.

A few years had gone by since then but you didn’t feel any better than before. You weren’t sure if you felt worse. Maybe it was because you felt numb nowadays.

Before you knew it, you soon find yourself behind bars. What you did, you don’t know. If you really did it, you didn’t care. You don’t know how long your sentence is, but you don’t care. You don’t know if whatever you did caused any deaths, but you don’t care. You don’t care anymore. You just wanted to drown in your despair, and this… “job offer” seemed promising. Retrieve a crystal deep inside a facility hidden in the deepest parts of the ocean.

To be so deep underwater to where the sun does not shine, to drift endlessly as water fills your lungs and it becomes so unbearably cold. To where you can’t feel anything anymore, not your body nor your emotions. To just feel the cold water and see nothing but darkness as the water pulls your body to wherever it so desires. Perhaps your remains could become the next meal for whatever lurks in the ocean’s abyss. Your body would never be found. You’d be gone without a trace.

So you signed up, knowing they don’t expect you to return. You don’t either. You don’t plan on getting that crystal, and you don’t plan on returning alive.

The shotgun shell directed at your neck on the diving gear given to you seemed promising as well.

If there is an afterlife, maybe you can see him again there. That sounded nice. You just wish you weren’t sent down with three other people. You never thought it’d be so hard to die in a place where risks of death were incredibly high. Perhaps it was because they wanted to use each other to get the reward for themselves, so they kept each other alive as long as possible. Covering each other’s eyes when the shark was outside the window, turning off another’s flashlight when an odd black figure appeared in the dark, saving each other from the creature inside the lockers… They weren’t going to let such easy bait be killed so easily, not this early.

Still, you strayed close behind as they often checked if you were still there. You kept your head low, until you heard another pair of footsteps from behind you.

Strange… The other three are already in front of you… And they’re just looking through drawers for anything useful.

The footsteps are getting louder and faster. You turned around just in time to see a strangely humanoid, armless figure running at you. It yelped the moment you locked eyes on it, immediately turning tail and running away.

“What the hell was that?!” One of the other expendables exclaimed.

Both of you walked back into the previous room to see where it possibly came from. There was a hole in the wall, shaped exactly like the creature they just saw.

“So they’re really in the walls, huh…” they then lightly punch your shoulder, “Hey, good job. I didn’t even hear it until it made that weird sound before it ran off,”

You say nothing.

“Come on, let’s keep going,”

You looked at them as they rejoined the others then back at the hole. You wished you didn’t turn around.

After a few more doors, the lights suddenly flickered. The one closest to you grabbed you and had you hide in a locker. Maybe they picked up on what you’ve been trying to do. You did willingly look into the eyes of the shark just outside the window, and they had to cover your eyes and drag you along with them. You also opened a locker that was already occupied by a strange creature coated in black and, what you assumed were, purple eyes. You hoped they’d leave you behind to be devoured by it, but you were pulled out and was patched up as best as they could do it. The damage wasn’t too severe, but still. There just had to be a spare medical kit in the room.

Maybe you weren’t being so discreet about it.

There were only three lockers in the room you were currently in and none in the room prior. They pressed on to the next door ahead. You were about to open your locker to step out into the path of the oncoming creature, but it zipped by you in an instant. It was much faster than what you’ve been dealing with.

You hear the others leave their locker followed with a quick flash of the flash beacon. You slowly step out of your locker and follow them into the next room to meet up with the other person. The one in front of you pulled out their flashlight, but ended up tripping over something. You stopped walking as they shine their light over what made them trip.

It was the one who ran ahead to find a spare locker. There was no blood or any signs of injury, but they weren’t moving and their eyes were still wide open. The other two tried to get them to respond, even shaking them, but they remained unresponsive. It was almost like they were just left an empty shell.

You restrain yourself from speaking as you would’ve called them an idiot for giving up a hiding spot in favor to make sure their bait stayed alive for a little longer, only to get killed in the process. Only 27 doors have been opened. Surely not all of you can survive much longer.

By the 35th door, one of them had used a code breacher to open a door without the keycard. Once the door slid open, a large creature with a smiling grey mask was seen on the other side of the door. Before they could react, it lunged towards them and instantly killed them on the spot before retracting their hand as it gets caught in the door while it was sliding shut. The blood splattered all over the floor and even reached you and the other expendable beside you.

By the 47th door, the lights flickered as you searched through a room off to the side. You can hear what you can describe as a distorted chorus faintly echoing down the hall, and soon a loud scream followed with multiple banging against a locker. The noise stopped as you walked to the door leading back to the path you’re supposed to take and you only see the aftermath. A fresh pool of blood and a destroyed locker. There was no body. The creature responsible is no where to be found.

You were alone now. Finally.

You kept your head low as you continued on, not bothering to search through the drawers for anything. Your body is starting to ache at this point. You opened the 50th door leading into a dimly lit corridor.

“Need to stock up?”

You looked up as you see the vent’s cover fall over. You turned around, then back towards the vent. You can see the next door ahead that requires a keycard, but you can’t find it from out here. You didn’t have a code breacher either as the others you were previously with had used them up.

“Come on, I won’t bite,” the strangely familiar voice beckons.

Had he not spoken twice, you would’ve thought you were hallucinating. Or maybe you are right now. A sort of “false hope,” so to speak. Not to mention how you can just barely recognize the voice. You’re having a hard time processing it after everything.

With no where else to turn, you walk to the vent and slowly crawl through. The room was dark, but lit up as you made it to the other side. You managed to get a good look at him, not exactly expecting some sort of fish-human hybrid.

“Ah, there you-” you see how his smile quickly disappears and his eyes widened once he sees you.

You only stare at him, tilting your head slightly to the side. He looked like he had just seen a ghost which wouldn’t be so far off considering what you had to witness for the past 49 doors, but why was he looking at you like that? He cautiously lowered himself down, close enough to your height but still far enough for some space.

You instinctively, though slightly, moved away as his hand moved closer to your face. That was until he finally spoke.

“[Name]..?”

You stepped back upon hearing your name leave his mouth. You narrow your eyes at him, “How do you…?”

Then it finally registered in your head. You’re not just hearing things, that voice was his.

Your eyes widened, now feeling his cold hand against your cheek, “S-Sebastian?“

“Yes…! Yes!” He nods, smiling widely, “It’s me!”

You couldn’t hold back your tears at all. The moment he confirmed it was really him was what finally broke down your walls. The last time you had cried this much was when he was to be executed. You had to hold onto his hand to keep yourself standing. He seemed to sense that as his third limb pulled you closer to him and held you in a tight embrace. You buried your face into his shoulder and sobbed until his grip on you got a bit too tight.

“W-Wait, Sebastian-!” You cried, “Let go!”

He gasps, immediately pulling away. You winced as you gently rubbed your arm. You looked up at Sebastian again and smiled.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you’re still alive. I have so many questions. Can I-?”

Sebastian stops you there, “Hang on. Before I get to answering your questions, I have one tiny question for you,” he suddenly towers over you as he yells, “How the hell did you get here?! And why the hell did you sign up for this?! Didn’t they tell you the risks? That you could very much die?”

You jumped at his sudden change in tone and almost fell back. His tail had went to cover the opening of the vent in case you ultimately decided to make a run for it. What do you even tell him? That you signed up just to die? No other reason. How could you tell him that?

“I-I… Well, yes, they did. I just- It’s because…” you don’t know what to say.

“Tell me the truth,” he demands. You swear you heard a hiss in his voice, “Of all people, why did you have to end up here?”

“I signed up for this because…” you paused, “Specifically because I wanted to die. I knew what I was getting myself into, Sebastian. They didn’t tell me anything specific,”

“Of course those idiots didn’t…” He scoffed, “They don’t expect you or the others to return,”

“I never planned to. I couldn’t care less about this so called crystal they told me I was supposed to retrieve,” you looked away, “Honestly, I don’t even remember what I did to end up here… Maybe I did something that killed a few people, or maybe I was framed like you,”

Sebastian calmed down a little and had moved back as you spoke. He repositions himself so that his back was against the wall and his tail would nudge you towards him.

“You said you signed up with the intention to die here,” he then says, “Why?”

You sit beside him as his tail slightly curls around you, “You were sent for execution and confirmed to be dead. I just couldn’t live with the fact that I couldn’t see you,”

His looks at your bloodied clothes and noticed bandages through some of the holes in your uniform. He points to it, “Are those..?”

“It’s from this weird black tentacle creature in a locker. It’s nothing too serious, if that’s what you’re wondering,”

He muttered a name you didn’t quite catch and he quickly moves on, “And the blood?”

You shake your head, “It’s not mine,”

He lets out a sigh of relief at that. It was finally your turn to ask questions.

“Sebastian, how did you survive?”

“Was picked up by Urbanshade before I was supposed executed. Guess they decided it’d be better if I was officially declared dead,”

“And you became this during that time?”

“You could say that. It’s, uh… It’s a long story,”

He doesn’t want to discuss it and you knew that was the case. So, you didn’t question it further. You have a good feeling you may have an idea now that you noticed a document on the table. Whatever was in there might have the answers to most of your questions, but you’re not sure if you even want to read it if he lets you. The mere thought of what could be mentioned in there makes you sick.

There’s still one other that you desperately want an answer for.

“We’re… not leaving this place, are we?” You questioned, not looking at him, “At least, I’m probably not thanks to this diving gear… One shotgun shell pointed directly at my neck, and if I even try to take it off, tamper with it, or leave this place,”

You stopped there. Both of you knew. Sebastian didn’t say anything for a moment, “I can get both of us out of here. I just need more time,”

More time. How much more time before your body can no longer keep going? You want to believe him, you really do, but you really might actually die here.

How ironic. You came here because you wanted to die. You watched the others die before your very eyes without much of a reaction. All of a sudden, you feel your stomach drop.

You’re afraid to die.

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 7

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 6 | Series Masterlist | Part 8

Chapter Summary: You meet some of the staff at the club and try to reason with one of Bucky's men about your situation.

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.3k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, tension, mention of stalking, inner conflict, insecurities, manipulation, possessiveness, flirting, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies continue to enjoy. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren't sure exactly how far the club was from the bookstore, but you didn't say anything for a minute after his declaration. You’d read stories about instalove before, the accelerated trajectory of feelings and relationships. It wasn't something you thought you’d ever be on the receiving end of. That mixed with a dark antihero.

How was this your life?

Bucky chose to break the silence. “You can change here if you want.”

Your heart rate spiked as you stared at the garment bag. There was a chance that the dress was to your liking, your style. But in the car, it wasn't like you could shield yourself if you undressed. He’d see you. Maybe even try to touch you. Was it worth the risk?

Reaching for it, you took a deep breath and curled your fingers around the hanger. The moment you grabbed it though, you set it right back on the hook. You wouldn't bother unzipping it to take a look. You weren't a doll for him to play dress up with.

“Sorry, Bucky,” you began, shifting to face him. “I’m sure it’s a nice dress, but I'm not wearing it.”

“You sure?” He asked. “You haven’t even seen it.”

“I don't need to see it. You got your way about me going to the club and I think it's fair I get my way about the outfit,” you said. “We both know I could've met your friends another time. It didn't have to be tonight. So they'll meet me like this or not at all."

His eyes snapped to you, pinning you in place as you froze. Giving him an ultimatum over something he may consider trivial wasn't a smart move and it wouldn't be a hill you'd die on, but you needed some sort of win. Part of him had to understand that.

Bucky's lips curled in a small smile, but you still swallowed nervously. “You look stunning to me just as you are,” he said, tracing the collar of your shirt with his fingertip. "Perfect even.”

“What?” You asked. You were far from stunning. “You're really okay with me going into your club like this? I don't think it meets the dress code.” You were lucky your black dress was nice enough to get in the first time.

“And? I said in the bookstore that you can wear whatever you want since you look beautiful in anything, so of course I’m okay with it,” he said, his finger gliding down the middle of your chest. “If you're worried about anyone saying anything, don't be. You’re my girl and my friends and I will shut anyone up who tries to make you feel less than perfect.”

Your eyes widened at the casualness of the threat. There was no reason to threaten anyone on your behalf. You could also hear Marc's voice in the back of your mind, reminding you that Bucky was dangerous. “Bucky, you don't have to do anything.”

“If someone upsets or hurts you, yes, I do,” he said.

Addison was the type of person who would defend you if you were upset or hurt. You would do the same for her. A boyfriend type defending you was entirely different. He could've just said that to make you lower your guard or play on your insecurities. So why did it still sound like he meant it?

You gripped his wrist before his touch could move further down your body. “What if you upset or hurt me?” You asked.

Bucky blinked at your question, an unfathomable look in his eyes. “I promised I’d never hurt you,” he whispered. You were the only one safe from his underlying rage, weren't you? Because something was lurking beneath the surface that you hadn't yet witnessed. “But I'd do whatever I could to make you happy again if I upset you.”

“You realize dragging me to your club didn't make me happy?”

“I didn't drag you. You got into the car with my help,” he teased. When you didn't smile, he sighed. “I'm sorry. You told me you wanted a quiet night and I pushed you to go anyway. I just got so excited for everyone to finally meet the girl of my dreams and…” He shook his head. “That doesn't matter. I should've listened.”

The apology sounded so sincere it threw you for a loop. If gaslighting was an Olympic sport, he could take the gold. Everything about the man had you second guessing just about everything. “I appreciate that,” you said, going with a safe response.

He smiled as the car rolled to a stop. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, his gloved hand taking yours.

You wouldn’t ask how he planned to do that. “Wait,” you said, pulling him back slightly before he could open the door. “Can we just sit here for a second?” You weren’t ready to go into the club. Maybe you could buy yourself another minute or two.

“You're stalling,” he smiled. You didn’t disagree. “We can't stall for too long. The longer we stay, the more it pushes back the evening and I promised you’d be in bed by 10.”

“I just want to talk for another minute. I still don’t feel like I know much about you.”

“Like what?” He asked.

“Things like your family? You said there was a story about your mom,” you said.

A swirl of emotions passed in his eyes, a range of sorrow to anger and even hope. “There is, but I want to tell you that story when it’s just us,” he said. Just the two of you. Alone together. “I will say though that the original club belonged to her before I turned it into The 107th. It helps keep part of her memory alive for me.”

“That’s a beautiful thing,” you said honestly. She clearly meant the world to him. “And your dad?”

“He deserved what he got,” he said, not an ounce of pity or sorrow in his voice.

“Oh.” There was no lost love there. You wouldn’t linger on the topic since that was likely another story for another time. “Can you tell me why your left hand is always covered? You said I'd never be a mistress, but are you covering up a wedding ring or something?”

The storm raged in his eyes again and you had to keep yourself from shrinking back when he wrapped a hand around your neck. Your heart pounded as he applied a light amount of pressure, but he didn't squeeze any further. Would anyone help you or care if you tried to scream? “Do you feel a ring beneath the leather?”

“No,” you whispered, your eyes shutting when he leaned in.

His breath fanned across your lips. “I told you before that you’re the only one I see,” he whispered. “So when I do wear a ring on that finger, it’ll be on our wedding day.”

You let out something like a whimper when his thumb rubbed along your pulse. While you wanted to stall before, the car now felt too small. Too hot. You wouldn't be able to breathe if you stayed in there much longer. “I think we waited long enough to go inside,” you whispered.

Both of you sighed when he let go of your neck. “I think we did, too,” he agreed, taking your hand again. “But before I forget, you owe me a picture of you since I found you.”

You glared at him since you hoped he’d forget about that, but he only smirked before he helped you out of the car. Parked right in front of the club, you nearly jumped when you saw Raymond standing close by, his gaze flickering between you and his boss. “Hey, Ray,” you said as Bucky pulled you along.

Raymond said your name in reply as he followed close. There were already a few people lined up to get in, but your attention was on the bright sign of The 107th. It welcomed you. Taunted you. You had a feeling you were going to become very familiar with the ins and outs of this place.

“Let’s go, Kotyonok,” Bucky whispered. You hadn't realized you stopped walking until he slipped his arm around your waist and guided you forward.

Bucky nodded to the doorman and walked tall with you beside him. Of course he wasn't nervous. He had no reason to be. This was one of his castles and he was the king. And he chose a peasant to be by his side. A peasant he wanted to make his queen.

The music vibrated through the floor as you went inside and bypassed the coat check. The sound grew louder as you approached the main floor and watched the crowd, all dressed to impres. The lights bathed everyone in red and it felt like you had walked into a sensual version of Hell. And Bucky, the devil of the establishment, tugged you closer by the waist, but he might as well have put a collar around your neck to show everyone that you were his pet.

“Breathe,” he said close to your ear, making it hard to exhale. You were out of your element, the territory somewhat terrifying since you weren't in the company of your friends this time around. At least your legs weren't shaking. “Would you like a drink?” He asked.

“Maybe later,” you replied over the music.

“Then let me introduce you to some of the staff. And don't worry. They know who you are,” he said. Before you could respond to that and ask what exactly they knew about you, he turned you back toward the way you came and waved a couple of men over. Your breath caught in your throat when they approached. Both wore a black top and pants and were as large as Bucky and looked just as dangerous.

“This is Ari,” Bucky said, nodding to the darker haired man who had a scowl on his handsome face. “And this is Jax.” The blonde smirked when you made eye contact with him. “They’re two of my best bouncers and they’ll help keep an eye on you when you're not with me.”

You scooted closer to Bucky on instinct when both of them stared at you, but you didn't lower your gaze. Their looks could never be as penetrating as the man who owned this place. “Keep an eye on me? Are you my babysitters?” You asked. Would they watch your every move, too, and report back to Bucky?

Ari didn't smile, but the scowl softened. Jax, however, chuckled. “Guess you could say that, but we don't mind,” he said, his grin flirty and eyes twinkling as your cheeks warmed. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you, darlin’.”

“Jax,” was the only thing Bucky said, his fingers digging a bit more into your side. Ray gave the bouncer a warning glance, too.

Jax shrugged. “Just being polite,” he smiled. The man likely had people hanging all over him during his shifts with his charm. He probably wouldn't have looked at you twice under normal circumstances, but you smiled back anyway.

“I appreciate the politeness,” you said.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not being polite. You're flirting with my girl,” he said to Jax, your smile falling immediately when the air around you thickened.

“Just being polite,” he said again, not at all bothered by the look his boss gave him.

“Nice to meet you,” Ari cut in, his voice deep and even. People probably hit on him, too. And as domineering as they were, you felt an odd sense of security.

“It’s nice to meet you both. Hopefully you won't have to babysit me too much,” you said, glancing at Bucky. His fingers were still digging into your side, his muscles tense. Was he jealous? “Breathe,” you urged, giving him the same instruction he gave you moments ago.

The bouncers each had a look of surprise on their faces when Bucky listened and slowly exhaled. “Okay. Thank you,” Ray said, gesturing for them to get back to work. “Boss?”

Bucky’s hold on your relaxed a bit. “Let’s introduce you to Hal and then we’ll go to my office,” he said.

“Office?”

“Quieter than the VIP section,” he explained.

You weren't sure if people recognized Bucky or if it was just the aura of power that he gave off, but people moved out of the way without prompting as he led you toward the bar. He smiled as he did so, completely at ease in his domain. “You know, I don't need babysitters,” you told him.

“You need people to look out for you, especially if you’re with me,” he said.

“Because you’re dangerous,” you said. You’d eventually have to find out why. “Once again, you aren't giving me a choice.”

“When it comes to your safety, I can't,” he stated unapologetically. You grit your teeth as he took you to the bar where a couple of bartenders were working. You didn't pay much attention to the guy at the other end since the one right in front of you had no shirt on, his toned torso on full display.

“This is Hal. Our top bartender.”

“Hey!” The bartender flipped his light brown hair back and flashed you a smile almost as bright as his tan. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Again?” You repeated, nodding as your mind flashed back to Addison’s bachelorette party. “That’s right. You gave my friend a shot before we went into the VIP section. You have a great memory.”

“I’m good with faces and you have a very pretty face,” he smiled.

The attention from his staff was dizzying. It wasn't anything you were used to. What was it going to be like when you met everyone else? You felt so lost.

“First Jax, now you,” Bucky muttered. For a split second, you thought he would try to cover your eyes. “Would you put your fucking shirt back on and stop hitting on my girl?”

“Oh, c’mon. I'll put it on after my shift. This is getting me tons of tips already and will only continue through peak time.” Hal winked at you and you tried to smother a laugh. Between Jax and Hal, you wondered if the two of them had a bet going to see who could make their boss snap. If so, they were brave.

“Bucky, I’m not looking at Hal’s abs,” you said.

The bartender snorted when his boss's eye twitched. “Just get back to work,” he grumbled, stepping a couple of feet away from you to speak to Ray.

“You can look. I won't tell,” Hal smiled, leaning on the bar. “Boss man said you’d make an appearance tonight.”

“And here I am,” you smiled, leaving out that it wasn't by choice.

“Is there anything I can get you? Your drinks are always on the house.”

“I’m fine for-” A man in a blue suit elbowed his way in before you could finish. “Excuse me.”

The guy sneered at you as he gave you a once over. “Ugly underdressed bitch,” he said, making you flinch before he snapped his fingers at Hal.

You glanced down at your clothes, your throat tight. You stubbornly refused to wear the dress Bucky got you on principle, but the jerk’s comment was another reminder that you didn’t belong there. What would prompt someone to be so rude?

“Hey!” The guy snapped at Hal again when he didn’t serve him right away.

The bartender smiled, but it didn't look right as he stood back to his full height. Had he heard what the guy said? “You know, it’s not nice to interrupt a lady, John. Maybe you should apologize.”

“Fuck that,” the guy, John apparently, scoffed. He must’ve frequented the place enough if Hal knew the guy's name and you weren't about to cause a scene. A complete stranger shouldn’t make you feel bad anyway.

Hal’s smile disappeared completely. “Do you know who she’s here with?”

“It’s okay, Hal. Thanks,” you said, your burning eyes on the floor as you moved back to Bucky’s side. You didn't want to be there. You didn’t belong there. Why couldn't you just-

“You okay, Kotyonok?” Bucky asked, lifting your chin with a look of concern. “What’s the matter? What happened?”

“Nothing. I’m fine,” you answered, giving him a tight-lipped smile. You just wanted the night to be over. “Can we go to your office, please?”

Bucky intently searched your face, something dark taking over his eyes as your heart raced. “Ray?”

“Boss?”

“Quick change of plans. You take her upstairs and wait outside my office,” he ordered, swiping his thumb along your cheek. “I think Hal and I need to have a quick chat before I join you.”

“Hal didn’t do anything,” you said quickly. He was a sweet guy from what you could tell and he didn’t need to be on the receiving end of Bucky’s anger for something insignificant.

“But someone did,” Bucky guessed, his eyes still dark when you didn’t deny it. “I’ll take care of it,” he promised, ushering you toward Ray.

“Bucky, it’s fine,” you said over your shoulder, but he had already waved Hal over to speak to him.

“This way, please,” Ray said, leading you away from the bar.

Before you knew it, he took you up a flight of stairs and down a corridor, the decor sleeker than the main floor. The closed double doors at the end of the hall you could only assume was Bucky’s office since Ray had you stop just outside of them. You took a breath and leaned against the wall. Though you could feel the beat of the music against your back, it was much quieter. Less crowded. You didn’t feel completely overwhelmed.

“What’s he going to do?”

“Depends on what or who upset you.”

“You’re my girl and my friends and I will shut anyone up who tries to make you feel less than perfect.

You took a moment to look at the bodyguard as he stood against the opposite wall. Stoic. Pristine. “What am I doing here, Ray?” You sighed. This wasn’t your scene. It wasn’t your world.

“Meeting some of the boss’s staff and friends,” he answered.

“That’s not what I meant. I meant… God, I don’t even know what I mean,” you groaned and wondered how long it would be before Bucky joined you. “But I don't belong here.”

“Yes, you do,” he said.

Why in the world would he think that? “How long have you worked for Bucky?” You asked. It wasn’t that you wanted to really talk, but you didn’t want to let your mind race while you waited.

“A few years now,” he replied.

“You’ve seen him date people then. Has he stalked any of his past girlfriends that you’re aware of or am I the unlucky one?” You asked. Bucky told you he tried to go the traditional dating route and that the last woman he saw tried to rob him.

“You’re the only person he has gone to extremes for,” Ray carefully answered.

“Extremes. You mean stalking,” you said. Did that make you feel better or worse that it was just you? “So, you’re fully aware that he stalked me. And that he plans to move me into his place.”

Ray gave you a single nod, though you wouldn’t say he looked proud. “I am.”

“Can you stop him?” Your stomach dropped when he shook his head. “Why not?”

“You can’t stop or delay the inevitable. He wants you and I’m afraid that’s that,” he said.

Incredulity crossed your face. He sounded like Bucky, but this was somehow worse. Did he not see that his inaction helped upheave your life? “Oh, it’s that simple, huh? Bucky wants me, so he gets me? Did you even try to stop him when he began to do ‘research’ on me?”

“No,” he stated. One simple word that held so much weight.

“What the hell?” Fury seared through you as you pushed yourself off the wall. “You didn’t think to step in and at least tell him, I don’t know, that stalking is crazy and wrong and illegal?!”

Ray blinked and pushed his glasses further up his nose. “You think he’d listen to me?”

Your fury didn’t dissipate, but you did step back. “Well. I assumed…”

“That what? That we’re friends? He may respect my opinion from time to time and he may consider me a friend, but he’s my employer first and will not hesitate to remind me of that,” he said, glancing down the hall. “And perhaps it is not my place to say so, but as wrong as it is this is the happiest I've ever seen him. You ground him.”

“So, as long as he’s happy, it doesn’t matter what he does?” You asked, feeling more hopeless by the second. “Why am I bothering? You don’t care.”

There was no reasoning with Bucky nor his men. At this point, you were going around in circles. It was exhausting.

Ray blinked again. “You assume I don't care because I’m not stopping him. His methods are unconventional, sure, but he just wanted your full attention.”

“There are other less creepy ways to get my attention.”

“Are there? You know what we found when we researched you?” He asked rhetorically. “You never go out. You're either home or at work. When you’re at work, you don't give a second glance to any of the men who come in. Where was he supposed to naturally meet you?”

“That doesn't…” Tears stung your eyes, but you refused to weep. Being a homebody shouldn’t be a tool to use against you or used as a means to manipulate you. “I went out with my friends. And he flat out said ‘where’s the fun in that’ when I asked why he didn't just ask me out. Stop making excuses for him.”

It was no wonder Bucky did whatever he wanted unchecked.

“You went out with friends who are all in relationships and aren't interested in meeting anyone. So you didn't go out of your way to meet others which no one is faulting you for. Breaking in was a bit much, but he was desperate and took drastic steps to get to and keep you,” he said. He spoke like it was natural, logical. “You're afraid. I know. But you’re the one in his eyes. If you try to run, we’ll be forced to catch you. Is that really what you want?”

Your hands shook. “I just want normalcy.” Was that so wrong?

“And you wanted someone to love you. So did he,” he said with more gentleness than you expected. “There’s always some madness in love.”

“And between love and madness lies obsession,” you said. That’s what Bucky was to you: obsessed. “Why am I the one? Why is he so desperate to have me?”

The bodyguard considered your question. “Does there have to be one reason? He has no family left. Work and friends can only take so much of the emptiness away,” he said, glancing down the hall again.

You bit your lip. “When you dug into my life, was there something specific that set me apart from anyone else he ever encountered? An incident or anything?”

Bucky convinced himself you were his soulmate, mind, body, heart, and soul. Ray stood across from you and stated he was happy since you were in his life, the happiest he had ever been. But why? Was the man obsessed simply because you were you or was there a piece of the puzzle you were missing?

“That’s not for me to tell, but I can say he’s devoted to you and you only.” He glanced down the hall again before he straightened up. Was there something for Bucky to tell you then? “Be angry with me if you wish, but know that I’m not just looking out for my boss now. I’m looking out for you, too. We all will.”

You heard Bucky’s footsteps as he walked toward you, but your eyes remained on his bodyguard. “Okay,” you whispered. Ray wasn’t going to help you any further. Not tonight.

Bucky stood in front of you, effectively blocking your view of Ray. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”

“I hope Hal isn’t in any sort of trouble,” you said.

Bucky gave you a wolfish smile, energy buzzing around him. “Not at all. In fact, I’m giving him a raise,” he said, slipping his arm back around you. What did the bartender tell him exactly and what did he do in response? “I do want to warn you before we go in, they may stare since they’re not used to meetings like this.”

“What, they’re not used to you having someone on your arm?” You asked. You found that hard to believe.

“They’re not used to me having someone I’d burn the world down for,” he said proudly, nodding for Ray to open the doors. “All you’d have to do is give me the match.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, gulping when you heard the chatter and laughter inside.

Once again, you were the lamb going into the lion’s den. But you could do this. You just had to mingle a bit longer and then you could go on your way. Bucky swore he’d have you home and you’d hold him to it.

The moment Bucky took you into the office, all conversations ceased. The men appeared relaxed, like they weren't aware of or didn’t care about the aura that surrounded the man beside you. He was right though. They all stared. Including a man with a pair of blue eyes you recognized.

The man who bought tulips from your shop.

“It’s good to see you again,” Steve smiled.

With a sinking heart, you began to accept that there really was no escaping Bucky Barnes.

Sorry to cut this off before meeting the rest of the friends, but it was a natural stopping point. And we'll find out what happens to John in the next part. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[somereaderinblue]

Warrior!Penelope God Games

After writing Odysseus's Challenge, I was still on a creative high & decided to do this too. NOTE: The swaps between gods were taken from @too-much-flynnolium’s art.

[ARES]

Mother, God Queen, rarely do I ask for favours

Now, I'm kneeling on your floor

With hopes to save a friendship

With one who's a prisoner far from home

Penelope

[HERA]

Divine intervention, so that is your wish?

To untie apprehensions that were placed on that Greek?

You are braving such dangers for a girl full of shame

But if she's worth the risk of going under

Why not make it a game?

Convince each of them that she ought to be released

And I'll release her

[ARES]

Who's them?

[HERA]

Artemis! Hestia!

Dionysus! Athena!

Demeter! Or me

What do you say?

[ARTEMIS]

Sure.

[HESTIA]

Very well.

[DIONYSUS]

Hic!

[ATHENA]

Alright.

[DEMETER]

Interesting.

[ARES]

Bring it.

[ARTEMIS]

You all know I'm a fan of nature and all

So with so many sirens gone

I think Penny's in the wrong

[ARES]

They had planned to do their worst

All she did was reimburse them

Now they'll tread with caution first

To live another day and sing even more verse!

[ARTEMIS]

Good point, release her.

[HESTIA]

Trust is not wasted, it’s forged

Why should I give her my support?

She turned her back on her cohort

[ARES]

Did you forget they failed to listen?

She was betrayed and now imprisoned

But if you make the right decision

She can still have a future with those who miss her!

[HESTIA]

Fine, release her.

[DIONYSUS]

Your little high and mighty Penelope

Claims to love another, but keeps him chained to a broken heart

[ARES]

She was busy fighting

[DIONYSUS]

More like busy spiting the cyclops

Let her feel the pain that the others feel and rot

[ARES]

Wait!

You must reconsider this!

[ATHENA]

Really now, Ares, no new tricks?

[ARES]

Athena!

[ATHENA]

What kind of so-called fighter holds back her power

Just lets her friends get devoured?

She couldn’t fight Scylla, but didn’t even try to outwit her

Hides with naught but a sword to get the job done

Tries to handle things upfront

Dim-witted and weak like her son

[ARES]

Hold your tongue now, her son's my friend!

And tell that drunkard that all kinds of hurts can mend

You want more mind games? Then set her free

To get back to her homestead, she'll make everyone’s brains bleed!

[ATHENA & DIONYSUS]

Then release her.

[DEMETER]

So many talents, so many tales

Give me one good reason why yours should prevail

[ARES]

She's got the hands of a weaver!

[DEMETER]

Dig deeper

[ARES]

She's pretty skilled with words!

[DEMETER]

You can do better than that!

[ARES]

She's very sassy…?

[DEMETER]

Eh

[ARES]

Never once does she give up on her child.

[DEMETER]

Release her.

[ARES]

I’ve played your game and won! Release her.

[HERA]

You dare to defy me? To give me more shame?

No one beats me, no one wins my game!

Marriage, bring her through the wringer

Show her I'm the judgement call

The one who makes the final call!

.

.

.

.

[ATHENA]

Is he dead?

.

.

.

Penelope had told Ares that for mothers, childbirth in itself was a difficult battle and the parenthood that came after a race with no finish line in sight. Personally, Ares would’ve likened it to war. If family had truly been something as linear as a race then surely Hermes would be on their father’s throne by now.

She placed her spawn in his arms. Said spawn miraculously didn’t squirm or squall against his battle-hardened muscles and cold gauntlets. 

“His name is Telemachus.” Far from battle. The irony wasn’t lost on anyone. Then again, considering how eerily squishy the infant was, perhaps the name was fitting.

Ares blinked as tiny fingers gripped his, the pudgy digits unable to full wrap around it. Yet, the grip was strong. No, it was simply alive. He’s bathed in blood so often that he’s forgotten even the tiniest of hearts can still beat.

“Telemachus.”  Penelope and Odysseus smiled. Smiled at him, smiled because of him. They were happy. He was happy.

.

.

.

[ARES]

Let her go…..please

Let her go……

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Star 1117

human!wooyoung x alienoid!reader

space apocalypse au

genres and warnings: fluff, angst, slow burn, bittersweet i hope, bits of hurt/comfort, alien yeosang and human jongho scs, coachella yun cameos, violence warnings

wc: 26k

synopsis: on your mission to save your home star 1116, and to find the last planet in the temporal nexus galaxy called star 1117, you arrest the human from earth- jung wooyoung. you find that he's been receiving cryptic messages from your galaxy, ones that make you question your purpose. together, you uncover secrets and take big risks to find the truth about the galaxy and star 1117's existence while wooyoung teaches you the true meaning of 'home'.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell ("or just die bro" "yeah it's not that hard" - famous last words from loren and yumi) (disclaimer: ^said in the context of the fic)

Home is not where the heart is.

You’ve always thought that it was a very human thing to think of the ‘heart’ as anything but the organ that it was. The heart’s only function was supposed to be to pump blood into your body and keep you running. But often, it was romanticised as a repository that stored human emotions in all their hideous glory. That was human nature in its nutshell which eventually doomed your forefathers, resulting in a bitterness that etched itself on the strands of their genes of which you carried generations worth of despite your half-human nature. 

The bitterness was justifiable. Your great-grandfather did not know that when he left his home, the planet Earth, he would get lost in the endless expanse of space and never find his way back. You often wondered if the humans ever even looked for him but you wouldn’t be surprised if they hadn’t. Somehow, he ended up receiving help from the Nexi and ended up on a planet just like his homeland and died trying to find his way back.

It was him who introduced that saying- home is where the heart is. You often read his journals and found it strange how he described everything that was close to his heart- the family he had left behind, a ‘cat’ which was supposed to be some strange, harmless feline creature that often dwelled in the homes with humans, and a lot of other things that made little to no sense but often sparked curiosity in you. He had left his heart back on the planet Earth and he died trying to find his way back. Perhaps, his home was where his heart was. But to you…

Home was Star 1116, the land where your parents gave birth to you and the land where they were never accepted. The planet that resembled the Earth that had been their home had their forefathers never left in search of finding something similar. Home was the land that had raised you with its magnificent, tall, iridescent mountains and deep, dark valleys that glowed from within when it met the golden gleaming soil that lit up your planet. Home was a location- the place where you took your first steps and found out what it meant to be half human- dangerous yet protected. Home was the place they told you to leave because they were scared of what you could do, even though you looked just like them. You had a human heart, which was an insult, not a compliment, even though your father insisted that it was the latter.

Your heart was inside your body. Your home was tem-nex units away, so far that you could not even see it anymore. Your home was not where your heart was.

“Any more reminiscing and you will find that you can blast lasers through your eyes too.”

“Yeah. I’m getting tired of her sighing. It sounds awful,” Yeosang said but you ignored him, shooting a glare at Jongho who shielded himself as if you really were going to blast lasers from your eyes.

“You’ll be the first to know if I do,” you told him, tossing your grandfather’s drawing of his cat on the desk where it landed between a pile of journals. “Any update on our target’s location?”

“Just a few tem-nex units away now,” Jongho said, adjusting his vision glasses. “Wanna place bets? I have a feeling it’s one of our old human friends in a dusty old spaceship running away from the Nexi.”

“I have a feeling that it’s just a poor rock and our systems need a big software update,” Yeosang sounded tired even though all he had done recently was lay limp on his couch. 

“I’m with Yeosang on this one,” you went towards him and he raised his hand to share a fistbump but you just pulled him up, earning a startled yelp from him. “Go check the exhaust outlets and our guns. If it’s a rock we need ammo to blast it. And I’m tired of hearing your tired voice when all you’ve done is rot the last few days.”

“Nothing’s fun anymore,” Yeosang pouted, collecting himself. “Our exhaust outlets are fine, our ammo is all loaded. We still have no clue about Star 1117’s location or purpose. I’m just making the same old mandatory assessments and I’ll come back right here and lie down just like before-”

Your pupils must have contracted in warning because he raised his hands in surrender before scurrying off. Jongho’s low giggles echoed in the control room and you took your seat back, sharing a grin with the human. It was always fun to bully the oldest in the room, especially to Jongho who was the youngest and the only human aboard.

You were both in the middle of checking if all the buttons on the panel of your rather old spaceship were working, with you making a few quick repairs, when Yeosang’s hasty footsteps caught your attention. He took a few deep breaths before he knocked on the metal wall to get Jongho’s attention.

“Is our radar not working?”

“It is,” Jongho confirmed, “What’s wrong?”

“I can spot a spaceship not far from our current location- unidentified,” Yeosang said and Jongho frowned, checking the radar. He looked at you and you touched the panel, allowing the silver, branch-like neurons to extend from your fingertips and read the device, trying to assess any damage but detecting none. 

“Radar’s fine. Are you telling us that it might be an unregistered spaceship?” You asked. 

All the spaceships in your galaxy, the Temporal Nexus, were supposed to bear a location tracking device and if in the rare instance that a spaceship did not have one, it was never a good sign.

“Come, check it out,” Yeosang urged and the two of you uncertainly got up, following him towards the back of your ship to the window. Indeed, you could spot the outline of a rusty old spaceship in the distance and Jongho lent you his glasses so you could zoom in and take a closer look.

It was definitely not a Nexi spaceship, yet it was in Nexi territory, far from where humans had ever dared to roam. The only time humans had attempted to cross over was how your great grandfather made it to Star 1116, which led to a lot of complications with the planet Earth and its humans and eventually, the Temporal Nexus Accords were penned. The crux of it was that both Nexi and humans would follow these rules and regulations for harmony in space- harmony was a funny way to put it when the humans knew that they could easily be outmatched. 

“It can’t be a human, right?” Yeosang asked, his glinting silver eyes indicating that he felt threatened. “It must be someone fooling around. Should we take a look or let it go?”

“It’s still an unidentified spaceship,” you reminded him. “We’re literally space patrol, Yeosang. We can’t let it go.”

“You know it was just an excuse to kick us out of Star 1116 because we were snooping around,” Jongho scoffed and you rolled your eyes- somehow, you were still more butthurt about it than the human himself. “But yes, we should take a look.”

“Alright, steer closer. Yeosang- you and me, dome, now. Get the guns.”

While Yeosang went to the storage, you hurried behind Jongho back towards the control room and pressed the button at the far end to get access to the ladder that led you to the observation dome. You made room for Yeosang and Jongho passed you binoculars. Crouching on all fours, you narrowed your eyes in focus as you peeked through the lens, muttering curses when you found how tinted the viewscreen was. There were human alphabets inscribed on the spaceship which confirmed your suspicions.

“Anything ring a bell?” Yeosang asked as he crouched down next to you, taking the binoculars from you. Yeosang was referring to the ships on the watchlist that you had been monitoring for a while now. 

“Nothing. You?”

“I don’t see anyone inside. What are the chances that it’s abandoned?”

“Only one way to find out,” you smirked and Yeosang shook his head. 

As Jongho decreased the speed when your spaceships got closer, you noticed something odd- almost like a few lights flickering inside the spaceship from what you could grasp, considering the heavily tinted viewscreen. You wondered what that was for. Yeosang warned Jongho to take care of the oxygen levels as he pressed the button on the glass dome, opening it and activating the manual shield just in time-

You got your answer in the form of a rocket colliding with your spaceship which rattled you despite the shield. You gripped at the shaft tightly, allowing yourself just a moment before joining Yeosang outside and asking him to lift the shield so you could prepare for the offensive. Yeosang passed you the revolver and you wrapped your hand around the hilt, a grim smile starting to spread on your lips as you allowed the neuron extensions from the tip of your nails to grow and slide inside the gun to wrap themselves around the bullets. 

While Yeosang provided cover, shooting any rocket that came in your range, you fired and shut your eyes, waiting for the bullet to hit the exterior. As soon as you felt the collision inside you thanks to the neurons, you let the bullets sink into the spaceship so you could read it.

There was a single human on the spaceship, as young as you. Strangely, the fear factor the human was displaying was less than the aliens you had caught on patrol, which was commendable. Perhaps, the human was a fool and had no idea what he had gotten himself into- you may be half-human but that did not mean you were going to pity the intruder. 

“He’s going to run out of ammo soon,” you opened your eyes, switching your weapon and helping Yeosang, shooting bullet after bullet that disintegrated the man-made ammunition in a mere blink. “I wonder how much he brought to have lasted this long- he’s so far from planet Earth.”

“I guess you’ll ask him soon,” Yeosang fired at the last rocket and snickered. You started making your way towards the ladder, preparing to gain access to the human’s spaceship and making sure to keep your revolver with you. Perhaps, the human would like seeing that in your hand.

When Jongho stopped the ship, you opened the hatch on your spaceship to access the ladder so the two of you could walk across to the other. You started knocking on the entry hatch once you reached the human’s spaceship but you didn’t get a response. You placed your hand on the surface and spoke, making sure your voice would be heard inside the vehicle.

“You can either open and welcome us, or we will welcome you. You won’t like that.”

A few moments later, the hatch opened with a loud shudder, allowing you both inside. You waited until it shut before walking forward, observing your surroundings which weren’t much, just equipment, until you heard a shuffle. 

And then came in front of you a man, a human man who felt as familiar as Jongho whom you had spent all your life with, yet so different. Even though he looked at you with a sort of surprised glare, dark tendrils of his hair covering his furrowed brows, his presence had a warm quality about it and you wondered if it was a human thing- you had definitely felt it with the humans around you. Some of them.

He stood his ground, defenceless and squaring his shoulders with every passing second. “Welcome to my humble abode. I’m Jung Wooyoung, at your service.”

Yeosang raised a brow and looked at you- you were far too busy identifying the possible layers within that delicate voice. Your lips parted as if to say something but you couldn’t produce a single sound at the moment so Yeosang decided to take over.

“What in the stars is a human doing here alone?” His voice boomed in the room as he asked. “You’ve violated just about a handful of the Temporal Nexus Accords. Do you have any idea what that means?”

“Well,” he shrugged. “It’s not like I can go back. I’m wanted on Earth too.”

“And you thought it was a good idea to roam around? You’re almost out of food and you just ran out of ammunition-”

“But it looks like I haven’t run out of luck,” he breathed, collecting himself with a wink in your direction which threw you off. “What do you usually do with people like me?”

“Escort them to the station for judgement.”

“Yikes,” he said. “I have so many questions but I’ll hold back.”

You spotted the nervous shift from one leg to another as he put his hands in the pockets of his black trousers. He was obviously considering all his options which frankly were quite limited. He had just about two choices- get escorted to the station or face execution right here.

“How did you make it so far?” You asked, frowning deeply. “Even the Nexi find it hard to avoid the patrol when they try to reach human territory.”

“Let’s say I possess a special set of skills,” he grinned wickedly. “Stealth, for starters.”

“I don’t quite believe that,” Yeosang commented.

“Well, your ship did not catch mine on radar, did it?” Wooyoung asked and Yeosang confirmed that it hadn’t. “Also, when you’re running from two groups of species, you find that there is no better fuel to reach the victory line than desperation.”

“Why are the humans after you-”

“What do you mean by victory line?” Yeosang asked at the same time and you both exchanged glances- this sure was an odd individual. You urged Yeosang to continue. 

“How far did you want to travel with such limited supplies?”

“Not that limited,” Wooyoung began to argue but you raised a hand in the air, making him raise both his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, I’m doomed anyway. Go ahead. Finish your job.”

“Why are you here, and why are the humans after you?” You asked, stepping towards him. “Answer properly this time.”

“I’m looking for someone.”

“In space?” You looked at Yeosang, knowing that the human wasn’t telling the whole truth. “And so far away from your home?”

“Yes, and I’m not sure if that someone is still… well, alive, in one form or another. But I needed to check a few things for myself,” he said in all seriousness. 

“You’re looking for a human? Did your human get lost in space?” Yeosang asked.

“Not my human,” Wooyoung let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s complicated, but I’m not sure if it’s a human or an alien I’m looking for. Could definitely be one of the humans from the group  that got lost around here a few decades ago- a descendant of them. I don’t think they got ‘lost’, by the way, but maybe that’s just me.”

You licked your lips in thought, trying not to look at the very bewildered Yeosang but you both knew that the humans he was talking about must be your ancestors and the group of them. “What’s it to you, then? Who are you to try to find them?”

“Again, I’m not trying to find them, they must be dead by now, but I’m curious to investigate. I was obviously a fool for taking matters into my own hands, but they didn’t take me seriously, the people back on Earth,” he admitted. “And when I started looking into the matter, they tried to get rid of me. Subtly. But I’ve always been known to possess maniacal qualities, and here we are.”

You grimaced at that, “So you’re an idiot. Yeosang, take him.”

“Wait,” Wooyoung snatched his hand away before Yeosang could grab him. “Let me grab my things.”

“You won’t need them,” you told him. “You should have stayed back on Earth. You might have lived longer.” 

With that, Yeosang strapped the vitals regulator watch on Wooyoung and you started to leave the ship, wanting to go back to the comfort of your own ship as soon as possible.

“You’re a human, aren’t you?” Wooyoung asked and you stopped in your tracks, turning back to meet his eyes as a deadly silence overtook. “He’s an alien, this one, even though he looks human, but you… You must be human.”

“I’m an alien,” you glared at him, the neurons from your fingertips branching like claws to prove your point. “And it would do you good to shut your mouth.”

However, you weren’t sure if your words triggered him or if he just had a mouth on him- was it a human thing? Jongho was talkative but a different type- cracking random jokes.

But this man?

He was getting on your nerves. You had to admit that his lung capacity was admirable considering the long string of sentences he sprouted as soon as he entered your spaceship. You caught a few words- something about a ‘cool’ spaceship, some technical stuff that to your horror, Yeosang was happy to provide his input for, and then something about his own rusty old spaceships and how ‘humans could never’.

“Oh, now that’s a human if I’ve ever seen one,” Wooyoung clapped his hands as soon as he saw Jongho. 

“How can you tell?” Yeosang asked. “I thought I looked like a human too.”

“Nah, you’re too pretty,” Wooyoung waved a hand in dismissal and you blinked. “It’s the sheer… presence of him. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, I know what you mean,” Jongho started chuckling after he recovered from the initial surprise of seeing a human on board- a human that was not a resident of one of the 1117 planets in this galaxy. 

“I don’t know what you both mean,” Yeosang almost pouted.

“Come closer,” Wooyoung called and you watched in horror as Yeosang obeyed, the three of them huddling close to each other. “This human- the warmth, the smell-”

“You’re telling me you could tell I’m human because I stink like one?”

While your crew burst into giggles, afraid to laugh properly in fear you would react aggressively- which you seldom did but you made sure the fear factor was a constant- Wooyoung started profusely explaining that he didn’t mean it like that but there was something about humans that smelt and felt like home to him. He did not comment on how you had admitted that you were human too. 

“Oh, you humans and your associations with the word home,” you spat, getting morbid flashbacks of the time your father tried to explain how association worked and failed. “Lock him in the cell- he’s too talkative.”

“Hey!” Wooyoung yelled at you but Yeosang reluctantly patted his back, telling him the cell wasn’t that bad, just a room where he could take his final rest before being presented in the station for his execution, which did nothing to help the human. Meanwhile, Jongho started going through Wooyoung’s things and you joined him, finding a few strange food wrappers and pens, a compass that made you smile in awe because it looked very much like the one you possessed, a bundle of notes and folders, an odd device that you set aside for the time being, and then his own journal.

You held the journal in your hands and allowed yourself to look at his memories associated with it, shutting your eyes and watching the images that flashed in your mind-

Grass. More vibrant than the grass on Star 1116, decorated by little colourful flowers that you had always heard of but never seen. The laughter of a woman and the laughter of kids, spreading warmth through your chest. Large bodies of water, as blue as the sky, welcoming you in its cool embrace. 

And then… anger and confusion. Screaming and shouting- your face suddenly felt wet. Were those tears? You hear incoherent yelling and loud thumps of things as they smashed against each other. You felt terror consume every fibre of your being and you felt out of breath- you were running. Soon after followed a sense of dread before guilt consumed you-

“Captain- hey, y/n,” Jongho cautiously shook your arm, bringing you back to reality. “You good?”

You retracted the neurons and set the journal aside, realising your face was wet. “He knows about Star 1116.”

Jongho pursed his lips in thought. “Is that really something we should worry about?”

“He knows our ancestors made it to Star 1116,” you added for clarification. “He mentioned that he didn’t think they got lost in space like everyone claimed they did.”

“Ah… that complicates things, doesn’t it?” 

“Are we sure the station wouldn’t have caught his spaceship on their system?” You asked, moving towards the control panel which was displaying normal readings. 

“What are you thinking?” Yeosang’s voice interjected as he entered the room. 

“I need to have a talk with Wooyoung,” you said, looking at your partners. “He intended to find Star 1116 and the humans living there and collect some evidence regarding them.”

“Well… he’s found them,” Jongho raised his hand. “I think his mission was successful in that case.”

“Half successful, and he might not know that Star 1116 is a habitable planet for humans. He might be thinking you’re from Earth.”

“One way to find out,” you stifled a devilish grin.

“Don’t go all kitty claws on him,” Yeosang warned with a chuckle and you hissed at him- he always used that phrase, having heard your father call you that when you were younger and more reckless with the alien traits that you inherited from your mother. 

You told him that you would not need to do that. He was here on a mission and this was the perfect opportunity to use that to gain a possible ally. You took a closer look at his navigation equipment before going to your room to rest, taking the strange device that looked like a radio with you- you didn’t want the boys seeing you get emotional again-

And talking about emotions- why did the human’s overwhelming feelings cause your heart to clench in pain? Why did it bring tears to your eyes? You didn’t despise human emotions- you thought they were beautiful in their own strange way but never did you think you would be able to relate to them on an intrinsic level. Perhaps, it was the human in you. No matter how much you tried to repress it, it would always remind you that it was a part of you, integrating with your Nexi gene as one.

But you soon found out that there were other forms of emotions that involved tears, and not just the embarrassing ‘crying’ you had almost done earlier.

There were tears rolling down the cheeks of both the human and the alien in your crew as they laughed their lungs out. You had heard a bunch of inhumane noises in your sleep which prompted you to wake up and take a look, but the last thing you expected was-

“Are you having a fucking party here?” You grimaced at the sight of the three boys in a circle with half eaten food in between, noticing a bunch of new dishes that you hadn’t seen in a while, the fragrant scent of it filling your nose and almost calming you. Wooyoung looked at your disgusted expression and only laughed harder.

“This one was supposed to be in the cell,” you pointed at Wooyoung as you looked at Yeosang and Jongho in question. “What is going on?”

“He was complaining about being hungry and when he offered to make us food, we decided to check how good a cook he was,” Jongho answered. “Surprisingly good, turns out. You should have seen him in the kitchen, y/n.”

“Since the station hasn’t sent a message yet, that means they haven’t figured out that we have a human aboard. We could use him as our servant,” Yeosang’s eyes gleamed with mischievous hope.

“That’s what you think of me?” Wooyoung smacked his biceps, looking hurt. “I thought we were friends!”

“No one is becoming friends with anyone here,” you clapped, prompting the boys to start cleaning up. “Don’t make me call the station myself, Jung Wooyoung.”

“Aren’t you a boomer,” he clicked his tongue.

“A boomer?” You asked, wondering what that meant. 

“A true boomer,” Wooyoung grinned, passing you a tray of food he had kept for you. “Basically means you don’t know how to have fun.”

“I’m not here to have fun,” you grimaced at the word and he pressed the tray into your hands before resuming tidying the floor, leaving you standing awkwardly in the middle. Yeosang caught your eye and urged you to sit and try the food and you reluctantly obeyed-

And immediately thought of home.

Home, when your grandfather and grandmother were alive and cooked the human dishes for you- the dishes that they had learned from their parents. You could taste the familiar spices that your grandmother loved in the broth Wooyoung made, the scent immediately transporting you to one of your happier memories when you didn’t have to worry about being an anomaly and could enjoy simple moments with your family. You looked at Jongho who was smiling knowingly- he could definitely understand what you were feeling right now.

“I can’t eat this,” you looked at Jongho.

“It’s okay, Captain,” he chuckled. “It’s just like our grandparents made for us, yeah? Go on, have a taste of the vegetables too.”

You hesitated but reluctantly took a spoonful of the vegetables with rice, a sense of dread washing over you but Yeosang’s hand on your back calmed you and you realised that maybe, the feelings of dread were present because you were scared to accept that there was a human on board who was making you acknowledge the human parts in you through food, of all things. 

That’s what you disliked about being human- that you were so easily swayed.

Wooyoung watched you cautiously from a corner while he absently sweeped the floor with a broom- he hadn’t expected you to react that way and it was surprising to see the group of you interact. If you weren’t fully human, he wondered why you weren’t as hostile towards Jongho as you were to him.

You finished your food before you knew it, and though it annoyed you that Wooyoung was proudly grinning, you decided to give it a rest for now and focus on the more important matters. 

“What is this device?” You placed the black rectangular, almost hollow box on the table and Wooyoung pursed his lips, tossing the broom in the corner and joining your crew on the table. 

“What do you think it is?”

“A broken radio?” You asked, opening its back to show how it had no batteries. “I can’t read it.”

“And what would you mean by that, sweetheart?” Wooyoung asked and once again, you had to repress the anger bubbling in your throat at the term while Jongho and Yeosang shifted uncomfortably in their positions.

“I can read memories and emotions or feelings associated with objects, and I can’t read this,” you clarified for him. “And I want you to tell me why unless you want me to read you.”

“That’s… strange, actually,” Yeosang cocked his head, taking the device from you. “Are you sure you can’t read it?”

“I’m sure,” you confirmed, looking at Wooyoung. “So?”

Wooyoung’s hesitation was palpable. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “Don’t even think about lying,” you told him, the neurons protracting from your fingernails making him jump a little.

“Whoa, put your murder mittens away,” Wooyoung shielded himself with his hands raised between you. “You probably can’t read because it’s what it looks like- a broken radio. It has no deeper meaning-”

“Everything has a deeper meaning,” you glared at him. “You wouldn’t bring a broken radio to space, for starters. Have you been getting some sort of a signal?”

When he didn’t answer, you knew what you had to do. You looked at Yeosang who nodded and came in front of Wooyoung. “If you really want to get somewhere with her, you better cooperate.”

“I would, but I don’t know if I can trust her- you guys with the information I have,” he admitted, sounding serious. “I do receive signals sometimes, but they don’t really make sense. I’ve been able to trace them, though, and it looks like they come from around here.”

“An alien sending signals to a human on earth?” Jongho looked at Yeosang. “Doesn’t sound implausible. What for, though?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Wooyoung shrugged. “It’s mostly gibberish- I can’t make sense of it.”

“Did you at least note them down?” Jongho asked.

“Yeah, in a notepad- it should be in my bag,” Wooyoung said, getting up and grabbing his bag from the couch, shuffling through it while you made eye contact with your crew, all three of you as sceptical as the other.

“It’s not here?” Wooyoung looked at you. 

“Everything that belongs to you is in that bag,” you said. 

“We didn’t touch it,” Yeosang said, and the boys raised their hands in surrender.

“Did you drop it?” Wooyoung looked incredulous.

“I’m not that clumsy,” you got up, snatching his bag and looking through it yourself but finding no signs of a notepad. You shot him a dirty look. “You left it behind on purpose, didn’t you?”

“That thing?” Wooyoung pointed his finger outside, the veins on his neck and arms popping out in anger. “It contains everything I worked for. It’s the reason why I risked my life to come here, and you’re telling me that we left it behind because you were in a rush?”

“So it’s my fault now?” You scoffed in disbelief. “You could have mentioned you needed to get your little notepad when we were transporting you!”

“Well, I obviously did not want someone to see the contents of it!” 

“Guys!” Jongho butted between you two, making you both sit down on the couch. “It’s okay. Wooyoung, just allow y/n to look into your head so she can copy everything that was on the notepad here for you. Simple! No biggie!”

“I won’t let her do that,” Wooyoung folded his arms. “That’s invading my privacy.”

“You’re invading our privacy by being here too,” you commented. 

“Then throw me outside,” he simply said and you groaned loudly. Yeosang stifled a smile- he had never seen you so riled up and he made a mental note to thank the human later.

“Please, cooperate,” Yeosang requested gently. “She knows the importance of privacy and will do her best to not snoop around in your mind and only look through the contents of the notes. Right, Captain?”

You nodded. You opened your mouth to add that you couldn’t help it if the person you were reading unintentionally pushed a memory your way but Yeosang knowingly ignored you and continued. “Wooyoung, if we think the message you’ve been receiving is important, we might not deliver you to the station at all. You sound like an excellent navigator and… we kind of need that.”

“We don’t need that-”

“Oh, shut up,” Yeosang waved a hand and you pouted. “You can take your time thinking about it- we don’t have to do that now. But we will have no choice but to report you to the station if we can’t find some common ground.”

“Between death and joining you, there’s not much of a choice here, is there?” Wooyoung asked grimly and you almost felt sorry for the human. “Okay, go ahead. I’ll write what I remember from the notes, but you can help me fill the gaps.”

“Wonderful,” Yeosang clapped. “Let’s scatter now.”

—--------------------------

You had to admit, you felt a little sorry for reacting that way towards the human who, like he had said, really had no choice but to cooperate or face death.

Or perhaps, it was the Wooyoung being human and sneaky and making you feel guilty on purpose. You wouldn’t put past humans to do that- sure, you were the daughter of one and a friend of another, but you had seen your fair share of humans hiding behind the excuse of their ugly nature.

However, your guilt solidified when you found the man diligently scribbling in a new notebook with a jug of coffee by his side. You shook your head at the sight- what was with humans and their addiction to caffeine? But you supposed you couldn’t complain- whatever kept the human running and made your job easier. 

You sensed Wooyoung’s body getting tense when he sensed your presence and you knocked on the door right at that time, pretending you hadn’t been standing there for a solid few minutes. He nodded and you entered, sitting down next to him.

“What are you writing?”

“Anything about navigation that I can recall from the top of my head,” he showed you the notes and you made an impressed face. 

“Are humans on Earth that advanced in space navigation already?”

“As of recently, yes, but not many, and they usually keep it to themselves,” Wooyoung told you. “They’re afraid the government and the space councils will exploit their services.”

“Sounds like our government,” you scoffed.

“I guess we do have something in common then,” he grinned. “I was one of the few who kept my research to myself, but I also made the mistake of snooping around and finding things I shouldn’t have learned.”

“You said something about the group of humans who got lost in space,” you asked, shifting on the couch so you were facing him. “Do you remember their names?”

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes slightly. “Those humans settled on Star 1116. Jongho’s one of them, right? A descendant of them?”

You nodded and he wowed at that, taking a few moments to let that information sink in. “And what about you?”

“I’m one of them too,” you admitted. No harm in him knowing. “My mother is a Nexi, though. My father was the grandson of one of the humans who got lost- but why do you believe they didn’t get lost?”

“I heard the superiors talking about how their spy network failed to achieve results,” he sighed and you felt your heart sink. “The plan was  to pretend to get lost and settle on one of the planets in the Temporal Nexus so they would keep reporting back to Earth with their findings.”

“Did they?” You asked, unconsciously holding your breath.

“I guess they felt welcomed enough that they stopped very soon, and my people never looked for them in fear that their secrets had been exposed. The Temporal Nexus Accords happened right after so the humans on Earth had to pretend they had no knowledge of those humans in space and thought they died.”

You fell silent, staring at the rings on Wooyoung’s fingers while you processed that.

Your great grandfather and great grandmother were spies. If anyone were to find that out now… 

“They must have lived well,” Wooyoung said gently with a smile. “I won’t tell anyone, if you’re worried about that. I’d say Jongho, at least, deserves to know the truth though.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I’ll tell Jongho soon. They lived well, but after they had kids and our grandparents were old enough to have their own, the Nexi started discriminating. It got a little messier afterwards, but we’re still here. Just… kind of outcasted.”

“The Nexi are just like humans then. It’s such a human thing to discriminate among races, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t blame them,” you scoffed. “They will have a field day if they learn that they were right about humans all along.”

“But who’s gonna tell them?” Wooyoung pretended to zip his mouth. You smiled at that and he smiled back. “Did you come to read… me?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” you said and he resigned into the couch. “It won’t hurt.”

“That’s not what I’m worrying about, but okay,” he urged you to start and you raised your palms in the air, letting the neuron extensions protrude from your fingernails. Wooyoung watched in awe as the silver steel-like branches curled around each other in an intricate pattern. 

“I’ll touch your forehead and close my eyes when I read,” you felt the need to tell him. “I will try not to look into your private memories but I can’t control what you send me, and unless you have a good mental fortitude I will only see what you show me.”

“Interesting,” he said, gulping when you scooted forward. You locked eyes with him, finding it almost endearing how his mismatched yet beautiful eyes widened when you gently placed your palms on his temples, letting the neurons extend and entangle with his hair to stick on his scalp.

“Ah… that tickles a bit,” Wooyoung muttered and you stifled a smile. “Do I close my eyes too?”

“You don’t have to,” you answered and shut yours. “Think of your notepad, now. I’ll have a general look before I start noting down.”

“Got it,” he said, shutting his eyes to focus.

You saw the notepad, as clear as day, and the last place he recalled using it was the control room in his spaceship. You relaxed when you realised he had indeed been telling the truth. You then saw the navigational reading and glimpses of incomprehensible messages- incomprehensible to him. 

You were about to draw back but you saw a montage of his memories in the spaceship- you felt the loneliness that he had felt being alone in space for so long- a few months and no human or alien contact. You felt a bit of dread as he wondered if he made a wrong decision leaving the Earth in the manner that he did- stealing information and sneaking past them. You felt his will to live fluctuate when it started to feel like he was on a wild goose chase. 

And then you felt just the briefest moment of acceptance when he noted down how long he had to live with the amount of food he had left on the spaceship. He was mostly relying on supplements but he wasn’t sure how long that would keep him healthy.

Before you could draw back, he pushed one memory in focus- the reason he cooked for all of you tonight. He was grateful to be alive and he needed the food more than you- more for the joy of cooking for himself and for others, for the act of simply eating with company, no matter who it was.

When you opened your eyes, you found that you were just as breathless as him. You didn’t know if he had intentionally pushed that memory into focus but it was enough. 

“Well,” you retracted one hand away, keeping the other at its original position. “Might be a little uncomfortable but we should start writing now. You can help me fill in what I don’t understand, is that okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” he adjusted himself so the notebook was between you two on the couch now. You rested your elbow against the cushion so it wouldn’t hurt. “Shall we begin?”

It took you about an hour of filling in the gaps but thankfully, Wooyoung had done most of the work. The navigation section was finished soon and then you moved to the messages he received from the radio which you realised were in one of the Nexi codes. It required a series of messages to be arranged in a specific numerical pattern to decode it. Thankfully, Jongho had the right device for it so you intended to let him handle that department.

While writing the notes, you learned about his time at the space centre on Earth. Wooyoung seemed to be a talkative person and you listened to his story about how he and a few other astronauts and space scientists always disagreed with the government which ultimately controlled their operations. Apparently, the humans were always on the lookout for a number of things- a planet like Earth, for starters. The secret to stop ageing or extend the age cycle.

“Why would they want to extend their miserable lives?” You grimaced when you heard that. 

“Sometimes, the little things are enough to want to live a little longer, I suppose,” Wooyoung mused, taking the pen from you and finishing a string of messages for you before handing it back. “There’s a race of you that has an unusual cycle, isn’t that so?”

“The Original Nexi,” you told him. “A few descendants of them still live though they are scattered and stay low. They don’t age like we do- after a certain age, I suppose around sixty, they start ageing backwards. They get to be young again but the fun ends there. They’re back to being babies and then one day, they turn into stardust and scatter in the atmosphere.”

“How poetic,” Wooyoung scratched his chin. “I suppose it has its pros and cons.”

“More cons,” you commented. “No one wants to take care of you by the time you become a baby for the second time.”

“Yeah, I bet that’s a sight,” he snickered, asking you to skip an irrelevant section and you started on the last page. “Look at that. We’re almost done.”

“Thank you for cooperating,” you meant it. “Your navigational skills… they’re quite impressive. I might just have a place for you on this ship. Depends on your behaviour though.”

“You are on your worst behaviour, I want it just like that~” Wooyoung started singing and you smiled- his voice really was pretty. 

“You seem to like that song.”

Silence filled the room and you finished writing the last sentence, shutting the notebook and turning to him, finding him surprised.

“How did you know?”

Oh. You had made a mistake.

“What did you see?” Wooyoung asked again, and this time, involuntarily you saw more memories and you shut your eyes because of the intensity of those memories-

Wooyoung’s voice. He was singing the song in a small room with the lyrics on the screen, loud background music blasting in that space along with the sound of uproarious laughter, the bass of the music in synchronisation with his heartbeat. Bright, colourful kaleidoscopes of lights danced with their bodies, swaying around one another. You felt joy, in its pure and raw form, and then-

You were transported to another memory associated with that song- back in the spaceship as he sang it alone, his voice the only thing echoing off the walls with only the dim white light to accompany him. There was no joy anymore- just yearning for something that was not and might never be.

“Get out of my head, y/n,” Wooyoung gently wrapped his hand around your hand that was still placed on his temple. You opened your eyes in surprise at the contact, blinking a few times to let your vision adjust. His words finally registered inside you and you looked into his eyes.

He wasn’t angry. He simply looked tired and perhaps, he knew exactly what memories you had seen. You retracted the neurons from his scalp and now that it was just your fingers tangled in his hair, you unconsciously caressed the soft strands. He moved your hand away softly, placing it in your lap and looking at the joined hands for just a moment before he pulled away.

“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“I know,” he nodded in understanding. “It’s okay.”

You nodded, realising you were still leaning into him. Taking a deep breath, you picked the notebook and got up.

“The notes will be with Jongho- he can decode the message,” you told him. “You can rest now.”

“Can I ask you something?” Wooyoung looked at you expectantly. You raised a brow and he took that as a sign to continue. “Do you only read the memories or are you able to feel the emotions or feelings associated with the memory too?”

Your silence was enough for him. He nodded in understanding, having gotten his answer.

As you made your way back to your room, you wished you could have told him that this was the first time you felt human emotions in such depth, in such an unfiltered and almost vulnerable way. Such innocent, humane feelings that almost made you forget that alien blood ran through your veins.

—---------------------------

While none of you had officially announced Wooyoung’s position as a navigator in the crew, he seemed to take on that role naturally. He made home in the control room with Jongho and they learned a lot from each other- Jongho about navigation and what it was like to be a human on Earth, and Wooyoung about the Temporal Nexus Galaxy and what it was like to be a human among the Nexi.

However, the more interesting part was how he managed to make Yeosang warm up to him. Yeosang wasn’t one to talk a lot and none of you in the crew were very physically affectionate, yet it seemed like Wooyoung had claimed the man as his target. He was always clinging to him- holding his hand, clutching his arms as he rubbed his cheek against him, casual pats and ruffling of hair (of which Jongho was also a target), hugs of all and every kind, and smooches. What was funnier was how Yeosang claimed to dislike all of that yet you would find him smiling to himself afterwards. 

Whatever it was, Wooyoung had a magnetic personality and everyone’s eyes followed him, as did yours. You were often in your designated corner with your journals and equipment, making calls to the station to send daily reports, sending messages to anyone who would want to hear your theory about Star 1117 and possibly help you in any way while not reporting you to the authorities. It was hard to be in the same room as Wooyoung and not look at him and lean towards him, you were finding. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t try to be as physically affectionate with you as the rest, or not include you in whatever stupid debate they decided to have for the sake of passing time- he was simply hesitant to touch you because he wasn’t sure if you could read him without your neuron extensions- or ‘murder mitten’, as he referred to them. Kitty claws was not the only term thrown around now.

Jongho’s device had successfully decoded the message but you were all waiting for the next signal as there were still missing parts. The radio was kept in the middle of the room so anyone could hear it if it woke up. Meanwhile, you shared your knowledge about Star 1117, the planet that could not be found. 

In the Temporal Nexus Galaxy, there were exactly 1117 stars or planets in the beginning, as marked by the Original Nexi, the first aliens born out of the celestial matter when the galaxy came into being. While the 1117th planet was never located, it was historically and scientifically accurate information that your galaxy had 1117 cycles. Each complete orbit of the planets around the core marked by the presence of a single sun- almost like the sun in the solar system- caused one planet to disintegrate into celestial matter. 

Wooyoung shared his knowledge of your galaxy and you found out that the humans were also aware that the only remaining planets in your galaxy were Star 1116, which was your home, and Star 1117. Star 1117 existed but it could not be located no matter how much the authorities and everyone else tried- there was too much clutter in the galaxy, they claimed. 

All the planets that finished their cycle disintegrated into rocks and stars. Some of the rocks the aliens made habitable when there weren’t enough planets to accommodate them, while some aliens resorted to pods and spaceships as their home. The further you went to explore in the Temporal Nexus, the harder it got to navigate and find your way back which was why a lot of the explorers who tried to locate Star 1117 or its byproduct (in case they were wrong about Star 1117 still being whole) never returned.

You were just discussing the myths surrounding the star while you ate lunch- Wooyoung was also the designated chef now, and you had to admit that part of the reason you were okay with his presence in the spaceship was because of the food he made for you all and not just because you had delayed your decision until you could properly decode the message. 

“I personally think Star 1117 was the first planet to die and our home is actually Star 1 instead of 1116 and they’re all wrong about the number of cycles that has passed. It’s a reverse order,” Yeosang said. “This, or there’s no Star 1117 in the first place.”

“Yeah, the Space Council could have easily modified the data,” Jongho nodded.

“But I read them,” you said, referring to the council members that you had secretly read. “They don’t think that’s true.”

“Maybe they’re made to think that that’s the truth,” Yeosang pointed out and you shrugged.

“Maybe Star 1117 isn’t a planet like your other planets in this galaxy,” Wooyoung added casually while munching on a potato stick. “Maybe it’s just an ugly old rock and you all think that it has to be a planet like Star 1116.”

“Well, I hope the authorities are looking into that possibility because the current cycle is ending soon. That means there won’t be a habitable planet for humans,” you said, looking at Jongho- while you were part alien, you functioned more like a human and couldn’t just travel in space without a certain amount of oxygen, just like Jongho. “And that also means that we will lose our home.”

Yeosang passed a tight-lipped smile at that- you all had family who lived in Star 1116 and refused to leave even though they were aware that this planet would soon disintegrate. They wanted to live there until the last possible moment before making a decision- die with the planet or move to a space pod. They were too old to do anything to save their home so you were using this opportunity to try to save it for them, along with your crew. While the government did not allow such missions for the common people, you were carrying it out secretly. You would be labelled criminals if you interfered with their mission.

“That’s a shame. I’ve heard Star 1116 is a very beautiful planet,” Wooyoung said and you all nodded- it really was the most beautiful planet to ever exist in that galaxy. “What do you plan to do about it?”

“Honestly, we have no idea, we’re just trying to find more information on when the cycle will end so we have a clue about how much time we have instead of waiting for the government to announce that we have numbered days,” Jongho said. 

He was about to continue when you heard static and you almost thought it was one of your own radios until Wooyoung got up and brought his radio back to the table, the four of you huddling closer to watch the messages appear.

“Pass me a pen,” you asked Yeosang who obeyed and you gave it to Wooyoung who had already opened the notebook to write down the message. It was mumbo jumbo to the three of you but all the colour seemed to leave Jongho’s face when Wooyoung finished writing the message.

“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked, patting his cheek to make him come back to his senses.

“Uh, let me confirm the message,” he mumbled weakly and you rushed to get his decoding device. He thanked you and started to insert the message in the device while already knowing the final version since he had played with this device enough to not need it anymore. When he typed the decoded message, he looked at all three of you before setting it in the middle of the table.

“‘I am 1118,’” Wooyoung read the message, frowning. “‘Do not save 1117.’”

Silence filled the room as the message hung in the air over your heads, your hands getting clammier with each passing second. You looked at Yeosang who looked just as lost and then at Wooyoung who was checking his readings again as if making sure that he hadn’t made a mistake.

“There is no Star 1118,” you said what everyone was thinking out loud. “Isn’t that right? Wooyoung?”

“I’ve never heard of Star 1118,” he admitted in all seriousness. “Star 1117 has always been the focus of attention, right?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “But someone from Star 1118 is sending you a message and telling you not to save Star 1117? Is that what it is?”

“There can’t be a Star 1118,” Yeosang frowned. “We can’t even locate 1117. I think if there were two missing planets, we would have found at least one, right?”

“Unless the government is hiding something?” Wooyoung suggested. “Wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Yeah, he might be right,” Jongho agreed with Wooyoung. “But I think we should start with locating where this message came from. That would certainly make things easier.”

“I suggest an infiltration of your space council to find information because it looks like you’ve had no luck so far,” Wooyoung raised his hand while looking at you, asking if everyone was in.

“That’s too risky-”

“But you can read the aliens, right?” Wooyoung interrupted and you folded your arms. “You can read objects. You can read their data- all we have to do is sneak past them,” he said, folding his sleeves with a smug face. “And I happen to be a pro at that, as you already know.”

A jab, but also an attempt to smoothen the rocky beginning of your relationship. You scoffed in answer, knowing all too well what he was talking about from the bits you had seen from his journal. “We’ll be labelled space criminals. They would do anything to find us and have us tried in court.”

“Well, from what I’ve heard, you’re all space criminals anyway,” he shrugged. “You’ll only be living up to that title. Besides, don’t you want to save your home?”

“You will help us save our home?” 

“If I can be of help,” he nodded. “I came here to find Star 1117 too. We have the same goal, right? Find Star 1117 and save your galaxy. You get to save your home, and I get to rub this in my government's face and… clear the name of my friends who got caught in this mess without me.”

“Didn’t catch that sob story when I read you,” you told him and Yeosang snorted, resulting in all of you sharing a laugh, the room echoing with nervousness, anticipation and excitement-

And hope. You met Wooyoung’s eyes and he nodded earnestly, his smile making your heart feel warm, a feeling you had forgotten.

You smiled back this time.

—--------------------------

“Wooyoung, I swear to the all one thousand, one hundred and seventeen stars, if you don’t move your knee right now-”

“I’m trying,” he hissed, smacking your back and you let out a horrified gasp at his audacity. “I can’t move it- bear with it.”

“It’s digging into my calf and it hurts,” you sighed. 

“Whose genius idea was it to sneak through the vents again?” Wooyoung asked and that shut you up.

It took you all just about two days to form an elaborate plan that would involve Yeosang getting access inside the Space Council building to present the monthly report physically with the excuse of meeting up with his cousin who worked there. When he called his cousin, the poor guy was quite surprised since they weren’t on friendly- or any terms, per se. He did complain about the strictness of the Space Council and how visitors weren’t usually allowed, but since Yeosang’s parents were ex-employees of the Council, it helped his case and his request to visit was almost immediately approved.

That left Jongho in charge of camouflaging the spaceship and he contacted a few of his friends who happened to be mechanics and had some spare technology that they could share with him. They were sceptical about why the human needed camouflage- it definitely raised suspicion, but Jongho had always been good at shutting people up with money so the mechanics were more than happy to help him out, thanking him for helping their declining business. 

You and Wooyoung, of course, had to be the ones to sneak in. You were hesitant to take the human with you- his vitals weren’t the problem since he was wearing the watch just like you which ensured your vitals remained normal. The problem was the risk of taking an unregistered human inside the very space that made sure all humans were registered in their data. 

Plus, Wooyoung’s claim that he could ‘watch out’ while you read their data wasn’t very helpful- you weren’t sure if he would be able to get you out of a tight spot if you got caught. He claimed to be good with guns so you reluctantly loaded him with as many weapons as possible and when you were almost sure he wouldn’t be a liability, if not a help either, you agreed to let him accompany you.

He was good at sneaking in. He had studied Jongho’s inventory of machines and tools and taken anything he thought was useful. While Yeosang entered from the main door, the two of you turned on the camouflage on Jongho’s illegally obtained wristwatch and took access inside the building through the backdoor while another alien entered. Before you could be scanned, Wooyoung pointed at the vents and you squeezed yourself into the tight space, crawling on all fours with Jongho’s voice guiding your directions. 

“Can you both fight later?” Jongho huffed. “Take a left and then jump down- you’ll land in a storage room. I can’t guarantee that it will be empty, so make sure your camouflage is working and you’re silent when you land.”

“Got it,” the two of you muttered in unison and you angrily tucked your hair back before leading the way again, having Wooyoung follow behind you. You paused before it was time to jump down, extending your neurons to read the room and after finding no signs of life for now, you landed softly with a thud, signalling Wooyoung to come down as well.

“That’s convenient,” Wooyoung pointed at your fingernails. “Can they act as a weapon?”

“Haven’t tried that yet but I suppose I’ll be forced to, soon,” you pointedly looked at him and he stuck his tongue out before Jongho asked you to find your way to the storage room that was across the hall. Wooyoung opened the door just a fraction and you pushed him with your elbow to take a peek.

“No one outside?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” you whispered. 

“Well, that’s what your kitty claws are for. Go ahead,” he said and you sat down on the floor, extending the neurons once again and finding a few men who seemed to be on duty, stationed in front of the rooms that were on either side of this room. You got up and moved away to talk to Jongho.

“Is there no other way?”

“None,” Jongho sighed. “Should I ask Yeosang to do something about it?”

“No, I have a sacrificial lamb right here,” you smirked dangerously at Wooyoung, who pointed at himself with wide eyes and furiously shook his head.

Moments later, he was carrying a bunch of folders and going out of the storage room as if he belonged there. You watched from the crack in the door as he pretended to look at the room number and went just a few steps ahead before dropping everything to the floor.

“Curse the stars,” he huffed angrily. “I’m gonna be late and my boss will kill me.”

One of the guards came into your vision, looking at Wooyoung with narrowed eyes. “Who’s your boss again?”

“Just the angriest one here- no need for names, am I right?” He shook his head and the guard seemed to buy that for the moment. “Asked to get some files,” Wooyoung started gathering them and the guard bent down to help. Wooyoung looked back, meeting eyes with you for just a second before looking at the second guard. “Would you help? I need to grab another bundle from the storage.”

The second guard hesitantly joined the first, grunting as he bent down. Your heart seemed to be beating between your ears as Wooyoung came back inside the room.

“What do you say I knock them out?” 

“Just keep yapping- I’ll make it,” you told him and he signed okay, grabbing another box of files and going back outside. You heard the three talk among themselves and you mustered all the courage before making a dash across the hall, turning the knob-

To find it locked. It would need an identification card to open it, and you didn’t have enough time for Jongho to do his thing. Panicking, you looked at Wooyoung who visibly swallowed and you made a neck-slicing motion.

“Now who’s that?” The second guard spotted you and that was all Wooyoung needed to take out his gun from the jacket and smack the guard’s head with the butt of the gun. The other guard punched him in the stomach with such force that Wooyoung doubled up as he let out a weak exhale-

And before you knew it, the neurons were extending from your fingernails and slashing at the guards while forming a protective barrier around Wooyoung at the same time. Wooyoung yelled an ‘I’m okay!’ which finally made you stop- not after having inflicted enough cuts on the guards to make them clutch at themselves in pain. 

Wooyoung looked at you, half-impressed and half-horrified. You decided to make sense of it later and said, “We should probably… shut them in the storage.”

“Yeah… why don’t you use your murder mittens for that too?” 

You scowled at him but did exactly that and Wooyoung smacked them hard enough to knock them unconscious though you were pretty sure it was petty revenge. He dusted his hands and looked proudly at you afterwards, catching you stifling a grin. He raised a brow and you finally let out a laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

“If you have both had your fun,” Jongho’s voice interrupted though he sounded amused- while he couldn’t see what was happening, the audio was enough. “Yeosang’s almost done and you’re still doing god knows what.”

“Sorry, Wooyoung’s having too much fun,” you put the blame on the human and moved along, ignoring the earfull that Jongho started to give Wooyoung. You used the identification card of one of the guards to open the door, finding yourself in the recent archives section of the control room- you didn’t need to tap into the alien parts to hear the chatter from the main room that leaked into this one.

“I’ll keep watch, you can start,” Wooyoung said and you nodded, wasting no time and shutting your eyes, letting the neurons branch out and touch everything in your surroundings- the shelf where hundreds of files were stacked, the numerous hard disks along with paper notes, the walls that contained memories of the people who had touched it recently, the floor where the employees must have walked a million times-

And where Wooyoung stood, and you almost thought your eyes were open when you saw him watching you in awe while staying alert. Despite not wanting to read him without his consent anymore, you saw the brief flash of what was playing in his head right now-

The sight of you slashing at the guards to protect him.

You pushed that scene and the feelings associated with it aside and let the neurons store every bit of information that they could until you started losing your breath and feeling faint- a sign that you couldn’t take it anymore. You thought you heard Wooyoung call your name before you retracted the neurons and rested your back against the wall, catching your breath.

“Too much?” He asked and you nodded, wiping your forehead. 

“We’re done, Jongho,” you said and he hummed in response, letting Yeosang know so he could leave as well. 

“Good job everyone,” Jongho said as you all started to make your way back out. “I’ll serve you all drinks tonight. And maybe sing for you.”

—--------------------------

If you thought Jongho was a good singer, he certainly had competition now. 

Sure, Jongho could move stars with his voice. You always joked that perhaps Jongho was an alien and his voice was his alien characteristic because there was no way a human could sound so powerful and mesmerising.

But perhaps, it was a human thing to sound so captivating, to sing like you intended to break the heart of the listeners and heal it again, to have your voice flow like the honey aliens only heard stories of- something they could describe and perhaps create association with yet only dream of having. Perhaps, it was a human thing to possess a voice that could make you feel like you were floating among the stars as one.

Or maybe… it was just Wooyoung. 

And just you, feeling all of that and more.

You tried reasoning with yourself- you had been hearing Jongho sing since he could speak so it probably didn’t sound so special to you anymore because you were used to it. If you could experience his singing for the first time again, you were sure you would be as blown away as the other person- as Wooyoung was.

But when Wooyoung sang in a voice so soft and mellow, you could feel your heart melt and you felt the sudden urge to sit out on the deck of the spaceship, in the hollow silence of the space and watch the stars.

“No way he’s the same person who sounds like an animal when he talks, right?”

You exhaled in relief when Yeosang said that but you were sure his drunken heart wasn’t as moved as yours was. 

And it didn’t help when Wooyoung locked eyes with you as he sang about the human emotions of longing, sadness, happiness and love. Of sorrow and bitterness, of peace and hope. 

You had been fine for the most part of the night- after returning to the spaceship, the boys started to prepare a meal while you passed out on the couch, surprising Wooyoung who was told that you were just taking a power nap to recover your energy. They woke you up when the table was set and while you ate, you told them that you were still processing the information you had absorbed and nothing you could process so far was relevant. While Yeosang told you all about his ‘adventures’ and how wonderful an actor he is, the room filled with overlapping chatter and laughter with the tinkling sound of your glasses as you drank. 

And now that the humans had been singing for a while, you silently excused yourself with a smile on your face that had been plastered on your face since you woke up. You exited the spaceship and laid down on the deck to watch the endless expanse of the universe. With your hands resting on top of your beating heart, you let your chest rise and fall in synchrony with the glimmering of the stars around you. 

You could hear your own breaths but Wooyoung’s voice still seemed to be ringing in your head and you found yourself smiling again. You recalled when your grandfather had told you stories of his father and his time on Earth- how humans used to sing at gatherings around fire while they ate candies or drank warm beverages. You had never experienced that but you always thought they might have looked strange doing that, until tonight when Jongho and Wooyoung started singing and Yeosang started clapping along- perhaps, this was what it was like to be truly human. To enjoy the little moments in life and make the most of them.

“Now that’s one way to stargaze.”

You almost jumped, letting out a startled sigh and Wooyoung grinned at that. “Can I join you?” 

“Uh, sure,” you patted the space next to you and he settled down, watching you for a moment before he assumed a similar lying position next to you.

“It’s beautiful,” Wooyoung sighed dreamily. “The stars.”

“Sometimes I wonder which of these stars were planets where we lived,” you said. “I think a lot of people here must look and wonder which one of them is their home.”

“It’s a shame how the cycles here work, but isn’t it somewhat relieving to know that the place that was once your home is now all around you? In the form of celestial matter.”

You turned your face sideways to look at him. “Is it though? To know that you have no home anymore?”

“But home is where the heart is,” he smiled, looking at you.

“Do humans still use that phrase on Earth?”

“We’ve always been using it,” he said. “Where did you hear it?”

“From my great grandfather.”

“He’s still alive?” 

“No,” you chuckled. “I have his journals. He missed planet Earth a lot but he said that home is where the heart is and his heart was here with his family. It never made sense to me, though.”

Wooyoung shifted his body to lay down sideways so he could look at you as you talked. “And why is that?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Home is a place, not an emotion or a feeling. My home is under the shade of the tree near my house where I grew up.”

“That’s where your heart is,” he told you.

“No, my heart is here,” you patted your chest. “It’s pumping blood.”

“My dear y/n,” he pinched your nose and if you had been sober, you would have smacked him. “Heart is an organ, yes, but it’s also a feeling. You leave a piece of your heart everywhere- back home, with your friends, with the people you lose. It is what makes you a whole person.”

“Still does not make sense to me,” you pouted.

“It will, one day,” he assured you, a knowing look on his face.

“What was your home like?” You asked after a few moments passed.

Wooyoung took a deep breath, folding his arms, his hair beginning to fall sideways slowly. You turned to face him too, unable to resist the urge to tuck them back. He didn’t comment on it, knowing it would remind you of the distance you were always consciously creating. “My home was near the sea- you have it here too, don’t you?”

“Something like that,” you told him, recalling the human sea you had seen flashes of from your great grandfather’s journal. 

“My home was the place where I spent my whole life, where my parents were,” he said and you noted how there was something sad about the way he smiled. “My home is with the friends I left behind, and even though my workplace started resembling a prison… that place is also my home.”

“Was it hard to leave home, knowing you might never go back?”

“Well, I didn’t think too much about it, I trust my navigational skills,” he said and you rolled your eyes. “But yeah. It started feeling like a mistake until I met you guys.”

You nodded- you knew all too well what he was talking about, having felt his loneliness firsthand. “Don’t you want to see your home again?”

“Maybe I’ll go back, but… I think I have a home here with you guys too,” he said cautiously and your brows furrowed as you tried to unravel its meanings. “Don’t you feel like you have a home here too? With the boys?”

You fell silent, pondering over that. “Will you show me your home, Wooyoung?”

“How- oh, with your kitty claws?” 

“I call them neurons, but yes,” you locked eyes with him. “I’ve always wanted to see what Earth looked like from my great grandfather’s mind. His journal doesn’t really give much.”

“What do you want to see?”

“Everything special about planet Earth, and… cats.”

“Cats?” Wooyoung frowned. “I thought you had them here? Yeosang called your neurons kitty claws?”

“It’s just a phrase we adopted from the description of cats and feline creatures we have in his journals,” you told him and he clapped, saying a long ‘ah’ in realisation.

“What about dogs?”

“We have something like that here, but I’d like to see that too,” you smiled.

“Okay, there’s so much to see- do you want to see now?” Wooyoung asked and you shook your head. 

“I’m still processing the information I got from the Space Council. Maybe some other day.”

“Sure, whenever,” Wooyoung said and you watched him for a few moments, the silence surprisingly comfortable.

“Did I scare you earlier?” You finally asked the question that had been weighing on your mind since you came back. “When I attacked the guards?”

Wooyoung stifled a smile. “I think I was more surprised that you went all murder-mode to protect me rather than being scared,” he confessed, “but I won’t lie. It was a little scary.”

You bit your lips, feeling something like guilt wrapping around your heart. Wooyoung inched his hand closer, looking at you for permission before holding your hand and caressing it.

“You don’t scare me,” he admitted, “I don’t care if you are capable of slitting throats with your nails or neurons or whatever they are. I saw how frightened you looked when the guards attacked me. I can’t get that out of my head.”

Now that was new. “Why can’t you get it out of your head?”

“You and your questions,” Wooyoung laughed, bringing your hand closer to inspect. “Hey, your hands look pretty normal. Like human hands. Where do the neurons even come from?”

You showed him by protracting them just a fraction and he wowed, taking both your hands and examining the skin around your nails when they retracted. “Pretty seamless, huh? Can you produce them out of your feet too?”

“Yeah, Yeosang had a wonderful time having me try that,” you laughed at the memory. “I can, but I don’t for obvious reasons.”

“You would look like a frog if you did,” Wooyoung told you.

“What’s a frog?”

“I’ll show you when it’s time, but… I’m scared you won’t like it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and when he started describing a frog, he finally earned the long due smack, your laughter ringing in the space while Jongho and Yeosang watched from the window.

“Didn’t realise she could laugh like that,” Jongho wiped a fake tear from his eye.

“She laughs with us too,” Yeosang said.

“Oh, you wouldn’t understand,” Jongho waved a hand in dismissal. “Her laugh sounds different.”

“Really?” Yeosang looked at Jongho. “Sounds the same to me.”

“It’s a human thing,” Jongho smiled and Yeosang shook his head at that, knowing all too well what he was talking about.

—---------------------------

“We have a big fucking problem, guys.”

All three heads turned dramatically in succession and you looked away, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

“Did you finish processing already?” Jongho asked and you nodded, slumping down on the couch next to Yeosang who had been pretending to take a nap. The younger two, who had been playing some board game that Wooyoung had been teaching the boys, rolled their chairs in front of you and you nervously fiddled with the sleeves of your black shirt.

“Yeah, I sped things up and… do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

The boys exchanged glances and everyone agreed on the good news first. You took a deep breath, “The Space Council has identified all of us and are sending out ‘wanted’ posters. They know we stole information and they’ve put a bounty on us.”

“That’s the good news?” Yeosang looked just about as horrified as the rest of them. You let out a short laugh.

“Congrats on officially being labelled space criminals now, I guess?” You offered and Jongho groaned loudly, muttering something about how his parents were going to kill him, bounty or not. “Now, the bad news?”

“Go ahead,” Jongho muttered, folding his arms in bitter resignation.

“Well, I don’t know how bad it is but they have secrets that they’ve hidden so well that even I couldn’t read them,” you started and Yeosang whistled at that. “I kept hitting a dead end whenever I came across something related to Star 1117, and there’s absolutely no way of locating the planet- not that they know of, or if they do know, they’re hiding it a bit too well.” 

“So was our attempt futile after all?” Wooyoung asked.

“Not really- it means that they do know a lot about Star 1117- at least the higher-ups. They’re just hiding it from everyone else.”

“Why are they keeping it to themselves? Do they want to keep Star 1117 all for themselves when the time comes?” Jongho questioned. “Do they not want the rest of us finding out?”

“Or maybe they don’t really know a lot and are just as clueless as us,” Yeosang offered. “Did you find something about how to locate it?”

“I think radio waves are our best option, so Wooyoung’s radio will have to do. I have something that can help with that, so let’s just track whoever is sending us that message and get answers from them?” You suggested.

“Sounds like a plan. We’re already working on using the radio as a navigational device so let us know what needs to be done next,” Yeosang agreed.

“Sure. There’s also something strange I came across,” you added, “but I don’t know if it’s of any value.”

“Let’s hear it anyway,” Jongho leaned forward in anticipation.

“You know the stories about the first aliens in this galaxy? The Original Nexi who are supposedly the first aliens in this galaxy?” 

“Yeah, that bloodline still exists, right?” Jongho asked, having recalled hearing rumours about them. “The Original Nexi who are born, grow up until a certain age and then start ageing backwards until they die?” 

“The humans would love to hear their secrets by the way,” Wooyoung looked both ashamed and proud of his people at that moment.

“Yeah, so,” you continued. “I think the first aliens are from Star 1117- that’s what I read in one of the files. That must mean the planet exists. If we can find one of the Original Nexi descendants who are alive today, we might be able to get some information about Star 1117. Maybe some of them even live there and we just haven’t been able to find them. Maybe that is why they’re trying so hard to hide the planet.”

“Woah,” Jongho exhaled deeply. “Now that’s news.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, a sombre silence taking over while all of you collected your thoughts. You decided to break the silence and give them a heads-up. “Since we’ll be wanted criminals now, let’s cut all contact with the station and destroy any tracking devices on this spaceship. Jongho, I trust you can take care of that?”

Jongho nodded and you continued. “Yeosang, please make sure our families are safe when they go to investigate- make sure they know that it might get messy so they can defend themselves if need be, okay?”

“I’ll let our friends know too- especially people we’ve been in contact with recently,” he said in a grim voice and you agreed, the realisation that you would all be in danger soon washing over you with a crash and you involuntarily shivered. Yeosang patted your back. You glanced at Wooyoung who had an unreadable expression on his face.

“We’ll do everything we can,” Wooyoung assured you and you nodded in answer. “Let’s speed up our radio navigation first.”

You agreed and got up, moving towards the control panel with Jongho, and Wooyoung looked at Yeosang, wiggling his brows.

“I guess my role is still chef?”

Yeosang chuckled. “You can keep doing whatever you’ve been doing. Kind of like an anchor, don’t you think?” 

Wooyoung was pretty pleased to hear that, immediately cheering up at Yeosang’s acknowledgement of his role as an ‘anchor’ when he had previously been referred to things like ‘maid’, ‘comic relief’ and worse. He disappeared into the kitchen knowing he didn’t have a lot of time before he would be called to help with the navigation.

And it was about an hour later that the smell of meat prompted everyone to drop what they were doing and join Wooyoung at the table. The meal was mostly silent, all of you feeling spent now that there was a threat hanging over your heads. Wooyoung could feel the palpable stress in the air but let you all have a moment to yourselves. After clearing the table, he was called to help with the navigation and he worked in harmony with Jongho and you, the hours passing by in a blink and sleep forgotten until-

“A signal!” Wooyoung shouted, making you and Yeosang get up with surprised grunts from your half-asleep state while Jongho high-fived him. 

“And, it’s gone- but it was there,” Jongho quickly input the readings into the radar and got a location. “Just a few tem-nex units away, should take us a few days.”

“Brilliant,” you felt hopeful all of a sudden, laughing in relief as you looked at Wooyoung in gratitude. He smiled in return, hand on his chest as he nodded. Yeosang clapped dramatically when Jongho started to yawn, making the two giggle and you got up, looking at the time.

“I think we should set our route and get some sleep, all of us. It was a long day,” you said and everyone agreed, Jongho immediately taking his place on the couch, pushing Yeosang away with little kicks.

“Go to your own room and get some sleep,” he said. “I’ll sleep here in case something fishy happens.”

“Alright, geez,” Yeosang rubbed his thighs, the youngest smiling as he swaddled the blanket. Yeosang saluted you and Wooyoung mockingly before going to his room.

“Want a drink, Captain?” Wooyoung offered and you gave him the side-eye. 

“Shouldn’t you go to sleep?”

“The adrenaline will take some time to wear off,” he explained and you shrugged. “I’d really like to take the drinks outside this time, and I could do with some company, unless you’re too tired?”

You decided to join- you could do with a drink and some company too, you reckoned. It had been a stressful few hours and your nap hadn’t helped at all- you kept thinking about whether you had been too reckless and doomed your friends and family by infiltrating the council and stealing top secret information. Sure, it could be justified- the government was all but dooming the people with the way they were handling things. If this really was the 1116th cycle, they had done little to nothing to prevent an apocalypse and the people were still in the dark about the ensuing damage which could be anywhere from just Star 1116’s collapse to the whole Temporal Nexus galaxy swallowing itself.

And you had never felt so worthless. You were merely a speck of dust in this vast galaxy and everything that you were doing to save it looked like it was all in vain.

“Cheer up, eh?” Wooyoung said as he clinked his bottle with yours. “It will be okay. We’ll be fine.”

You had to admit, you were rather impressed by his ability to read the room or the emotions of someone. He did it better than you could with your neurons and that was saying something. 

“I just feel like I’m going in circles. It’s not the first time we’ve received a signal that indicated that we might be close to Star 1117, but it’s the first time I’ve felt hope. I don’t know what I will do if it turns out to be nothing.”

Wooyoung hummed in thought. “If it turns out to be nothing, you’ll try again, just like you have for so long now. You won’t give up.”

“I know I won’t give up,” you nodded. “I want to do anything to make sure Star 1116 stays like it is, even if… even if I can’t ever go live there again.”

And perhaps, it was that possibility that had been weighing you down all along- what if you were chasing after something you shouldn’t and risking your chance of ever going back home? What if your last memory of Star 1116 would be when you got drafted as space patrol?

You recalled that day- just another morning with you munching on some snacks while you worked at the office with Yeosang and Jongho. The three of you had always been a unit even in the Space Centre in Star 1116. Your unit was the one in charge of detecting foreign matter around your planet but you were always abusing your power- since you had access to a lot of devices and archives, you were conducting your own research about Star 1117 which almost everyone was aware of. It wasn’t something you did secretly anyway.

But even though you saw it coming, the notice that your unit was transferred to Space Patrol still made your heart sink. You went to the superiors to have them change it- Jongho and Yeosang shouldn’t be dragged into something that you insisted on doing, but the two were already there trying to do the same for you. The three of you laughed like fools afterwards as you processed what this meant-

That you were on to something and the Space Centre did not want you snooping around anymore. That was how you ended up harbouring spite for the Space Council and continuing your mission in secret. It had been a long and lonely journey for the three of you but at least you had each other. And with Wooyoung’s addition to the crew… 

Things had definitely changed for the better.

“I can understand,” Wooyoung smiled wistfully. “I didn’t exactly leave Earth on good terms either. It was quite a similar situation as yours- I would have been imprisoned for trying to expose state secrets if I had stayed any longer, so I just decided to sneak away and collect evidence about their dealings with Star 1116 and their plans for Star 1117. I feel sorry for the people I left behind- they must be dealing with my mess.”

You recalled hearing about his friends earlier- he seemed to worry about them a lot. “Do you want to go back… once you collect your evidence?”

Wooyoung shook his head. “Do you think I’ve been doing my job ever since I met you?”

“Well, I didn’t stop you from doing what you needed to do,” you muttered and he laughed.

“Look… there’s no way I’m going to go back to Earth and tell them that you exist. You’re the evidence I was trying to find, and… I’d rather keep you all to myself.”

“Jung Wooyoung,” you warned but he only took a few chugs of his beer in response. You crossed your legs, shifting to face him.

“I understand how much home means to a person, and I wouldn’t want to be someone who prevents you from going home and clearing the name of your friends. Please, I already feel guilty as it is…”

“Look, I came here to find out if the humans that got lost here were still communicating with my people back on Earth, right?” Wooyoung began. “Turns out those humans had morals after all, from what you told me. They never betrayed the aliens here and lived in harmony with the rest of the aliens here. They made a home here. Isn’t that beautiful?”

“And what about Star 1117?” You asked and Wooyoung’s lips tightened in a smile. “What have you been trying to find about Star 1117?”

“Well, you know why they sent your great grandfather and his group to the Temporal Nexus. Humans have always been in search of anything they can get their hands on; they're greedy like that. Be it slowing the ageing process or finding another planet that they can make their home. After all, Earth will collapse one day. In the solar system, they haven’t had much luck so they’ve always been secretly exploring other galaxies.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” You asked. “We’re the same. Our planet collapses and we go live on another.”

“But you take everyone with you, don’t you?” Wooyoung asked grimly and you frowned in confusion. “You do not leave your people to die, do you?”

You shook your head in denial and when he sighed, you had your answer. 

“Are humans that selfish?” 

Wooyoung stretched his arms, a melancholic smile plastered on his face. “Sometimes. Not all of them, I like to believe. It’s just the power that makes them lose their morals.”

“I guess it’s the same here then,” you shrugged. “The Space Council does not want us finding any information on Star 1117.”

“I have a feeling that they have a good reason for that. Let’s hope I’m right,” he settled the empty bottle on the deck. Yours was still half full and in your hands. You watched Wooyoung trace shapes on the surface of the deck, his dark hair falling down on his forehead. 

“Will you show me your home?” 

Wooyoung looked up at you in surprise. “Now?”

“I feel like this is the moment that I should read you,” you answered in all honesty and he looked a little confused but agreed anyway. You scooted closer and raised your hands in front of him. He awkwardly raised his own, intertwining them with yours before he realised-

“Oh, the forehead, right?” He was about to pull his hands away when you let the neurons extend and wrap around his hands, effectively binding them to yours and Wooyoung raised a brow in response, speechless for once. You stifled a smile and let the neurons wrap along the bulge of veins in his arms, the silver branches sneaking under his sleeves and taking shape along his collarbones before appearing on his neck.

When you felt Wooyoung stiffen just a fraction, you stopped, the neurons curling around his neck. You couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he looked with the silver branches on him, and it awoke a spark deep inside you. You almost felt breathless, as did he, before you asked him the one question that would make or break this moment.

“Did I scare you?”

Wooyoung looked at you for a few moments too long, watching your pupils contract and dilate in anticipation, silver like the extension of you around him. And he asked himself-

Was he scared of you? Did the idea of being so exposed to you make him want to cower away? Did he not like the way you had him trapped under you? Did he not appreciate that you were still asking for permission? 

Weren’t you only human too? Figuring out these unfamiliar feelings just like he was? 

Wooyoung decided to take a leap of faith in you and tightened his hold around your hands in answer- you had read him for a long time when he was first brought in your spaceship but that was a wholly different experience from this moment. This was so much more intimate with darkness enveloping the space, the stars twinkling like an endless glimmer around you, and the shift in your relationship now that you had warmed up to each other. 

A different way than he had warmed up to the boys, he noticed. 

“I’m not scared,” he caressed your hands in answer. “I told you before- you don’t scare me, y/n.”

You smiled in response and let the curled branches extend along his temples, wrapping around his head like a crown. You wished he could see himself in that moment, but you shut your eyes as he pushed his memories to you.

Earth. 

So different from the Earth that you had seen in your great grandfather’s memories. There was more architecture- tall greyscale buildings that threatened to touch the sky. Where was the green grass? Why did the sky no longer seem as blue as it had in the Earth that you had seen?

Suddenly, you saw exactly that- a sky of fluffy clouds with rays of sun emerging through it and painting the lush fields of grass yellow. You saw the flowers that you always loved- the same roses and daisies from your memories. There was the sound of water in the distance- waves. It had to be waves. There was the sound of a woman calling Wooyoung’s name and you looked into the distance at the small cottage. Someone zoomed past you and you twirled around again, taking a scared step back as you saw a little ball of black fur-

A cat.

A startled laugh left your lips as the cat rubbed its soft body on your bare legs. You picked it up and kissed the top of its head before running towards the smell of food- Wooyoung’s food- no, his mother’s food. The person he learned to cook from, the taste that he carried in his hands. 

The scene shifted yet again and this time, your legs were submerged in water and you looked around in confusion- why was the water falling from the sky? You craned your neck upwards to find that it was not the sky where the water was coming from but the top of a mountain, the stream crashing against deep brown rocks just like the one you sat on, a green carpet around it- moss, it was called. You had a stick in your hand and before you could figure out what to do with it, you felt two taps on your shoulders. You turned around to see a child who had a stick just like yours with a tiny creature lodged in it, threatening to fall on the ground. Scared, you cupped your hands and let the creature take refuge in your palm. You watched it carefully, the dark green bulge of its throat rising and falling in quick successions, and its tiny, webbed feet-

A frog. 

You were laughing as the frog jumped out of your palm and landed on the rock near you, joining its own little gang of friends. You washed your hands with the cool water and splashed it on the children around you.

This was what it was like to be a kid on Earth. 

You opened your eyes and saw Wooyoung smiling widely. He grinned before he asked, “Did you see it?”

“I did,” you pouted. “And I do not look like a frog, Wooyoung. Shame on you.”

Wooyoung laughed loudly, squeezing your hands subconsciously. “What else did you see?”

“Well, I saw a cat, thank you very much for that,” you smiled. “I could smell food- your mother cooked for you, right? It smells just like your food.”

“Really?” He seemed pleased to hear that.

“Exactly like that,” you confirmed. “And… I saw tall buildings. What was that?”

“That was the city where I lived before I came here, where I moved to after I grew up.”

“It looked… void of life,” you told him and he agreed. “Earth has changed.”

“We call it ‘modernised’,” he shrugged. “But yeah. Earth has changed, and so have its people.”

“Do you want to see my home someday?” You asked, beginning to retract your neurons and he shivered slightly. “It’s not much, but it’s definitely something like the Earth that my great grandfather left behind. And I wish I could show you like you showed me, but… you can see it in person.”

“You’d take me to Star 1116?” He asked in surprise.

“Yeah, well, don’t think I’m doing it for you,” You started and he scoffed. “It looks like we’ll have to go anyway- at least to warn the people if things don’t work out.”

“Well,” Wooyoung kept his hands intertwined with yours even after your neurons were fully retracted. “I’m not one to give false hope but let’s not give up and stay optimistic about this, okay?”

You nodded and looked at his hands that fit so well with yours, and you found yourself thinking how truly incredible it was to be this fascinated by such a simple thing as your hands in someone else’s. And that led you to think about how much you had changed since you met the human from Earth.

Wooyoung seemed to have noticed that you were deep in thought and he leaned down a bit to enter your vision, gently asking, “What are you thinking?”

You looked at his deep brown eyes that glinted with mischief and curiosity as he held your gaze. You let your eyes travel along the slope of his nose, pausing at his parted lips that were starting to curve into a smirk.

“I’m thinking you’re too close,” you muttered, pushing him back but he only pulled you closer which induced a startled gasp from you. 

You sucked in your breath just as quickly when he caressed your knuckles with his thumb before planting a kiss on both your hands. He then proceeded to look at you, his gaze almost darkening.

“Too close?” He asked, almost as a challenge. You were too surprised to answer, an unfamiliar but pleasant feeling pooling in your stomach. 

“Let go of my hands before I chop your hands into pieces,” you warned and he immediately let go, raising his hands in surrender and he would have thought that you were serious were it not for the laugh that you let out afterwards.

“And you said I don’t scare you?” You scoffed. “Try harder, Wooyoung.”

“Hey,” he scoffed back in utter disbelief. “You played dirty. I cherish my hands, okay? If you shred my hands into pieces I can’t do this-”

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you close- a bit too close, so that your faces were mere centimetres apart. Your eyes widened in surprise and when his initial surprise wore off, he tilted his head a bit, his eyes scanning your face and looking for any signs of apprehension. Upon finding none, he proceeded to cup your face with his other hand.

“If you hurt my hands, I can’t hold you like this, can I?” He whispered.

“Wooyoung-” you began but he shook his head, planting a chaste kiss on your forehead and grinning cheekily afterwards, making you smile shyly. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he said, letting go and scooting away this time. “Don’t go all kitty claws on me please-”

This time, you decided to show him just what Yeosang had meant when he called your hands kitty claws. If it was the planet Earth, or even Star 1116, his shrieks and laughter would have woken creatures from their deep slumber.

But since it was just your spaceship, it only made Jongho and Yeosang grunt in their sleep and his voice was lost to the stars.

—------------------------

“This is insanity,” you managed to say, your breaths quickening with every second as you monitored the radar, watching not one, not two, but three patrol spaceships enter the range of your spaceship, quickly covering the distance behind you.

“We’re running away, right?” Jongho asked but didn’t wait for the answer, pressing a button and activating the speed boost, though that did nothing to calm you. You climbed up to the dome to take a look at your surroundings, zooming through the glasses that all of you had on since you spotted a spaceship following you. 

A number of things had happened in the last few days which led you to this point, so close to finding out the source of the signal Wooyoung had been receiving on his radio. Your names were circulated among all the residents of the Temporal Nexus with a significant bounty on your head, and even Wooyoung’s face was plastered on the ‘wanted’ posters. That prompted you all to cut contact with everyone including your family and acquaintances, though Yeosang had sent a warning to the families and assured them that you would be okay. However, the anxiety that came with the possibility that you all might not ever be able to go back home gnawed at all of you.

For now, there were more important matters. Jongho worked on camouflaging the spaceship as best as possible while the rest of you worked on tracing the signal to the most accurate location, finding yourself in unfamiliar territories. The Temporal Nexus was a vast galaxy and your spaceship was well-equipped so it allowed you to cover a great amount of distance in a short amount of time but there were some spaces in the galaxy that were considered ‘red zones’ or unsafe, to put it simply. These spaces were usually considered to be a hotspot for mysterious, unexplainable spatial activity and it was thought to be the points where a planet may have completed its orbit in time, resulting in a ‘tear’ in space. To the naked eye, it would seem like a mass of vividly coloured gases with little electrical sparks emerging from it. All the residents of the Temporal Nexus knew to avoid it-

But the residents of Temporal Nexus weren’t nosy like you were. And how could you ignore it when the signal was coming right from that point? It was only a matter of time before the Space Patrol around the red zones would detect your spaceship and be on your tail-

And here you were. Just a few hundred tem-nex units away from the red zone, from the source of your signal, the Space Patrol quickly catching up, the boys preparing to attack while you monitored the situation- it was just an excuse to take a breather and think where did it all start going so wrong. If you got arrested now, it would be the end.

“Captain?” Jongho called. “We’re closing up on the red zone. What do we do?”

“We can’t steer around it, can we?” You asked grimly, climbing down and going to look at the map that highlighted all the red zones in the galaxy- there were about eight red zones in your proximity alone and the only clear path was your way back which was now crowded with space patrols.

“Not really- I don’t think we can lose them,” Jongho took a deep breath.

“I say we keep going,” Wooyoung said. He had been monitoring the radio which started malfunctioning as soon as you entered the range of the red zone. “We’re getting signals from there- all the messages we got are from that mass,” he pointed at the blue cloud of gas not far from you now. 

“It’s dangerous,” Yeosang shook his head. “There’s no telling what could happen once we enter that mass.”

“Only one way to find out,” Wooyoung’s lip curved in a smirk. “I have a feeling there’s a reason the space patrol is hell bent on catching us before we reach the red zone, and it’s not our safety.”

“Makes sense,” Jongho agreed. “There have been instances of people trying to get to one of the red zones but never have the space patrol been so active in trying to stop them. Usually one ship is enough.” 

“We are wanted criminals,” you reminded them. “They have a reason.”

“And what’s the reason?” Wooyoung asked. “That you almost found out information about Star 1117’s location? And now you’re going to the red zone? Hell, if I had to say, it would look like you’re on the right path.”

Yeosang exchanged glances with you- Wooyoung was on to something. It made sense- if you had tried stealing information about any other thing, perhaps the Space Council wouldn’t have reacted so brashly. 

“Alright, forwards we go,” you announced and Jongho nodded, immediately going back to steering the spaceship. “But if at any point we feel like it’s dangerous, we’re going back, space patrol or not.”

“Got it,” Jongho grinned, speeding up the ship once again. You went back to the dome to activate the shield, deciding not to go on the offensive for as long as you could manage- you didn’t want more charges added to your criminal record.

For a few moments, all of you focused on your tasks- Yeosang blasting any rocket that came your way, Jongho focusing on entering the red zone while Wooyoung assisted him, monitoring the radio. You gave directions from the dome, silently praying that this mission would not be a futile one when you heard the familiar static noise from the broken radio. 

Immediately, all of you were hovering around Wooyoung and watching the radio try to display a message on its screen but failing to. It looked like something was disrupting its signals.

“It has to be because we’re near, right?” Wooyoung looked up at you and you nodded. 

“Keep following the source- I’m going to try and get readings from outside,” you told them but before you could move and anyone else could verbally stop you, Wooyoung grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t go outside. It’s too dangerous.”

“I’m only opening the dome,” you told him gently, your heart clutching at the sight of worry in his eyes- for you. “I’ll be right here.”

Wooyoung hesitantly let you go and you gave him a small smile before going back up and opening the dome, taking a little peek out. You rested your palms on the surface of the exterior and let the neurons spread around the spaceship so you could read the air and the surroundings- it didn’t always work but sometimes when there was something foreign in the air, you could read it.

“We’re entering the red zone in front of us in about two minutes, Captain,” Jongho warned. “You sure you want to be out?” 

“I’ll be fine- it’s not dangerous,” you assured him but still shut the dome halfway in case you would have to retreat in an emergency.

However, nothing could have prepared you for what happened next. 

Jongho announced that you were going to enter the zone in about thirty seconds and Yeosang positioned himself beside you with his gun. The two of you were covering the back of the spaceship when the air around you turned foggy, indicating that you were in the red zone’s range. You were just trying to get a reading when you saw something from the corner of your eye-

“Jongho!” You warned but it was too late- another spaceship came out of nowhere from within the red zone and hit the back of your spaceship so that Jongho lost control of the steering. The impact of the collision made your spaceship swerve dangerously to the left, making it spin. Yeosang lost his footing and unceremoniously landed down, shouting in warning and you retracted your neurons just in time to draw your hands back before the domed window fell back in its place. You would have fallen in a painful position but Yeosang managed to catch you just in time, though the rocking of your spaceship still made your head bang against the ladder rather painfully.

“I got it!” Jongho shouted and managed to stabilise the ship, and the gasp that he let out when he finally got a clear view outside made you wonder if something had gone wrong-

But Wooyoung looked just as speechless. Yeosang helped you up, making sure you were okay before you two joined them to look at the scene outside-

It was the same pitch black darkness of the space, void of any stars but surrounded by the blue masses of gas. And right at the centre was a small, glowing thing- it was too far to make out its shape but it looked like a rock from afar.

“Are we inside the red zone?” You asked in confusion.

“We crossed it, and now we’re inside the space surrounded by the red zones,” Jongho settled back in his seat in surprise. 

“And we’re getting a proper signal- look,” Wooyoung managed to add amidst the confusion of the situation, pointing at Jongho’s device that you had used to track the signal from Wooyoung’s radio. 

“There’s no one following us anymore” Yeosang went to check from the dome as if he couldn’t believe the radar readings. “We’re alone here.”

“Did you see the ship that crashed with ours?” You asked and Yeosang shook his head in denial. “Damage report?”

“Minor, nothing to be worried about for now,” Jongho assured. “So? Do we inspect that? Why is it glowing like that?”

You looked at the luminous thing in the middle of the space- this couldn’t be Star 1117, right? It was too small to be a planet. Was Yeosang right then? Was this just a byproduct rock or mass of the star that was once a planet?

“Before we go,” you began, a suspicion gnawing at you. “Let me read the collision real quick. There’s something odd about the spaceship that collided with ours.”

“Right? We didn’t detect it on the radar,” Jongho said. 

“That might have been because of whatever was messing with the radio signals?” Wooyoung suggested but you weren’t sure. You went back to climb the ladder that led to the dome and this time, you sat outside on the surface while you protracted the neurons to read.

And what you saw made cold wash all over you- you must have let out a surprised sound because Yeosang was outside with you, his eyes filled with worry.

“It can’t be,” you shook your head. Nothing made sense anymore. 

“What is it?” Yeosang asked. “Tell me.”

“It was our spaceship,” you told him and he frowned in confusion. “I saw our spaceship- this exact one.”

“That’s impossible,” Yeosang shook his head. “Maybe you’re wrong?”

“I’ve never been wrong,” a grim realisation started to dawn on you and you beckoned him to follow you down. “It wasn’t detected on our radar because it’s our spaceship. And it must have crashed with ours to bring us here, to this point.”

“Are you thinking… duplicates? Time travel?” Jongho looked at you in disbelief. “I could call you crazy if we weren’t here right now, but… you know those are just theories, right?”

“You can choose not to believe me,” you said, understanding his point, “But I know what I saw.”

“Time travel in the Temporal Nexus, huh?” Wooyoung scratched his chin in thought. “Isn’t that what Temporal Nexus means in the first place? A point where different timelines intersect?”

“That refers to the points in our galaxy when the cycle of one planet comes to a completion right when the cycle of another planet begins,” Yeosang said, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Unless…”

“Unless your Space Council decided that’s what you all should know?” Wooyoung smiled knowingly. “Just like they didn’t tell you about that thing? About the red zones? About Star 1117? About Star 1118?”

“Let’s just… inspect that first before we start drawing conclusions,” Jongho said weakly and you all agreed, taking a seat next to the two. You sat next to Wooyoung and looked at him- could he be right?

He seemed to understand exactly what you were feeling, and when he slid his hand in yours, you didn’t draw away. You held it and squeezed it back. You needed that.

And it seemed like he needed that more when you started getting closer to the luminous form and realised that it looked more like a person than a rock or a star.

“Am I… going crazy?” Jongho asked, pressing the side of his glasses to zoom in, “or is that a literal fucking person hovering in the middle of space?”

“Are you sure that’s our source?” Yeosang sounded doubtful as he looked at Wooyoung who was beyond speechless, for once. You checked for him and sure enough, you were on the right path.

“Stop the spaceship,” you said when you saw the figure move and Jongho immediately did. The figure- person- turned around and all of you wowed and cursed under your breaths. 

“That’s just… an Original Nexi, right?” Yeosang stood up to get a better view, prompting Jongho to continue approaching the figure. “Apart from the… glowing part.”

It sure looked like one- it had the characteristic androgynous appearance of one, with a stone etched under one eye like a teardrop. Jongho stopped the spaceship and looked at you.

“Are we inviting them in or are you going out?”

“No way that thing steps inside,” Yeosang shivered involuntarily. “I don’t want my spaceship glowing and sticking out like a sore thumb.”

“I’m pretty sure the glowing isn’t contagious,” Jongho laughed. “But he’s right. It’s better if the two of you go out. We humans can chill and watch, right, Wooyoung?”

“Right,” he sank lower in his seat. “You’re on your own, sweethearts.”

Yeosang scowled at the human before extending his hand for you. 

“Don’t even try to read that thing,” Wooyoung warned in a low voice. You pursed your lips in answer before you joined Yeosang, exiting the spaceship from the dome and climbing down at the shaft that Jongho had opened for you to stand on. 

You were now facing the figure, standing tall and powerful- there was no way this was just one of the Original Nexi- this person and everything about their presence was making you want to sink to your knees. 

“Ah… how many times have we crossed paths now?” Its voice, smooth as silk, sounded inside you. Startled, you looked at Yeosang who was just as shocked, if not more.

“I don’t think we have crossed paths…” you narrowed your eyes as the person smiled knowingly. “Who are you?”

“I take it you got the message, then? It must be our first time meeting,” the person sighed as if the weight of the world was crushing it down. You noticed how up close, the glow from its skin wasn’t as obvious- perhaps, you were engulfed in it now. 

“Who are you?” Yeosang asked. “And how are you here, like this?”

“Who do you think?” It asked, positioning itself so it looked like it was perched on an invisible surface. “You are looking for Star 1118, right?”

“And how do you know that?” You asked. This time, there was no apprehension in your voice but simply curiosity and wonder. 

“Because I am the one you have been looking for,” the smile on its lips was so sad that it made you want to cry. “I am the one you saved and the one you let go of. I am the beginning and the end of this Temporal Nexus- I am Temporal Nexus, in its truest form. I am what you call Star 1117, and what you will call Star 1118 if you make the mistake of saving me.”

This time, your knees did go weak and Yeosang let out a gasp, utterly astounded. The person just watched you both with eyes that were both apologetic and full of resentment.

“Star 1117… is a person?” You breathed. 

“Not really,” Star 1117 shrugged, the golden long hair flowing like a halo around its figure. “Just one of my forms. Just one of my names.”

“I don’t understand,” you said, turning to look at Jongho and Wooyoung who were listening in to your conversation from inside, both equally dumbfounded.

“Sweet child of the Nexi,” Star 1117 began. “I am the Temporal Nexus. I am all the stars in this galaxy and their cycle. I am the Original Nexi, the very first, and all of you are my descendants. At this moment, I am Star 1117- Star 1116’s cycle is almost complete and as a cycle comes to completion, I start assuming the next form. This is my final form, for the final cycle- there are no planets anymore- not after 1116.”

You did not know for how long you simply watched the person’s figure shimmer as if it was also a mass of gas- perhaps, if you touched it, your hand would pass right through its form. You and Yeosang stood in shock, trying to process your thoughts.

Star 1117 was a person, not a planet. This being was the core of the Temporal Nexus.

“If you are the Temporal Nexus,” Yeosang began, glancing at you for a moment before continuing, “you must be the past and the present. Isn’t the last cycle supposed to be the 1117th?”

“As the fates have intended, yes,” Star 1117 nodded. “And you’re out here to change that. In fact, you do. You find a way to save me and have the Temporal Nexus live its 1118th cycle. But that is where everything goes wrong,” the person smiled in a melancholic manner. “The Temporal Nexus is supposed to die with its intended last cycle. If you try to change the design of the universe, the universe finds a way to retaliate.”

“‘Do not save 1118’,” you quoted. “Why?”

“Because you triggered not only the end of the Temporal Nexus but the end of the galaxies surrounding me!” Star 1117’s voice boomed this time, making you clutch Yeosang’s hand. “The solar system is next- it will swallow in on itself, before its intended time. There will only be an end and no beginnings anymore.”

“That’s impossible,” you shook your head in disbelief. “You sent a message- to not save 1118. That means you were alive.”

“Oh, I was alive long enough to find a way to make things right,” Star 1117 smirked. “The human in your spaceship- it is he who sent my message. It is him who crashed into your spaceship just now so you made it here- it is him who gave us another chance to make things right and not make selfish decisions.”

You turned to look at Wooyoung who had an incredulous look on his face as he pointed at himself. You turned back to the Original Nexi.

“How?” Yeosang asked.

“In the time when I’m 1118, I’m weak and I fall,” Star 1117 admitted grimly. “The human who never made it to Star 1117 and never met any of you found my weak form. With his help, we formed the last link to the past and here we are. He does not remember because it is not him- it is the person who crashed his spaceship in yours. His origin and conclusion will remain to be unknown until you make a decision- save me, which will lead me to the human on Earth, or let me go, which will take us to a new path- perhaps, one where the world doesn’t end like that.”

“It was our spaceship that crashed into us,” you said.

“And I always wondered how he came to possess it,” Star 1117 sighed. “I hope you make the decision that leads to that moment in this timeline.”

“The decision to let you go?” You scoffed. “We will have no home- what about all of the Nexi? Aren’t they your children? Do you not care for them?”

“I do. But I have lived long enough, and I have seen what happens if you try to save your galaxy. Do not make the mistakes you have made so many times now,” Star 1117 almost pleaded. “Do not save me. Save yourselves.”

“I will save my home and the people who matter to me,” you said through gritted teeth. Yeosang put a warning hand on your shoulder but you shook it off. “You are the Temporal Nexus. You can’t die like this- you can’t take away my world- our world,” you motioned at the boys inside the spaceship. “I will find a way to save you and the galaxy.”

With that, you turned on your heels, not waiting for Yeosang. You were far too overwhelmed to think or care. 

“There is no other way. You have tried everything. You have failed every time.”

Star 1117’s words were lost to space. Yeosang stood awkwardly, wanting to follow you inside but having too many questions of his own to do that. He turned to the being. 

“If you are the Original Nexi, does that not mean that you grow old and young like your descendants?”

“I did, in the beginning, when I was young. When I was Star 1,” Star 1117 smiled. “After a certain time, when I started approaching my end, I got stuck in this miserable state, unable to age and unable to do anything but exist and die a little with each cycle,” the star raised its hand, proving that indeed, there was a translucence to its body indicating the weariness that dripped from its voice in a physical form. “Your people- the Space Council- they protected me and tried to help me, but to no avail. They realise that there is no answer to this. Some things are meant to die at their time, Kang Yeosang. Tell your friends that I have suffered enough for this world.”

—-------------------------------

You must be human, you thought, because you couldn’t stop crying.

Ever since the conversation with Star 1117, you had been overwhelmed to no end. You came back to the spaceship and shut yourself in your room. You knew the boys let you have your space for a while but it was Jongho who came to knock on your door first. 

“Captain? You alright in there?”

You didn’t respond though you were pretty sure he could hear your sniffles. He continued. “I’m not exiting the red zone until you’re out, okay? Until I have your orders. Take your time, I understand.”

You muttered a thank you and that was enough for Jongho. It was Yeosang who came next to check on you.

“All that talk about not being as emotional as a human. Tsk tsk. Look at you,” Yeosang said, attempting to lighten the mood. You did let out a dark chuckle though that only made you cry some more. 

“Come on. Tell me what’s got you crying so much.”

“I just need a few minutes,” you told him. “I’m sorry for being a mess.”

“It’s okay- just… come to us if it’s too much, okay? You’re not alone.”

You knew that. You were not alone, however, you had never felt more lonely. And you were starting to realise why-

You had subconsciously read Star 1117. While Star 1117 had been making all those claims, your neurons protracted just a fraction. The luminous light around you was a part of the being after all-

And all you got to read was pain. Extreme pain- not the physical kind, but the one that weighed on your soul. You felt utter loneliness- one that crushed you like nothing else. You felt the urge to cease existing but also felt helplessness like nothing else. No wonder Star 1117 had sounded so weary. You couldn’t imagine being in its place.

But then… what about your home? What about your people? What guarantee was there that you could all make it safely out of the Temporal Nexus when the last cycle comes to a conclusion? You had only one purpose in life ever since you understood how your home would die in your lifetime- and that was to prevent it. If you could not stop the unavoidable, you would have liked to have found a new home-

But there would be no home in the Temporal Nexus anymore. This spaceship was not a home. Space pods were not home- besides, you would have to find a place in another galaxy. What if you were never welcomed anywhere anymore? What if your family and friends refused to leave this galaxy?

You must have stopped crying a while ago, staring endlessly at the plain ceiling when a knock sounded. You had no energy to hum a response. The door clicked open and someone peeked in.

“I’m coming in,” Wooyoung announced, sitting next to you on the floor in a similar crouching position, your backs against the wall.

“Drink some water- please,” Wooyoung requested and you finally spared him a glance, taking the water bottle and drinking a few gulps.

The water from Star 1116. That was your home.

“Did you finally process all of it?” Wooyoung asked.

“I don’t know what to do,” you told him, “I’m so lost.”

“You read Star 1117, didn’t you?” Wooyoung asked gently, already knowing the answer. He couldn’t help but slide closer when you nodded with an absolutely heartbreaking expression, tears in your eyes. He intertwined his hand with yours and let you rest your head on his shoulder- he could tell you were tired but he needed to tell you something too.

He told you that he went outside to have a conversation with Star 1117, and he told you what he learned from it- specifically about Star 1118 and Wooyoung’s role in all of this.

“The Temporal Nexus is the point where the past, the present and the future meet,” Wooyoung explained, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “In the past, there was an alien girl who was half-human but had beef with her own human counterpart. Her name was y/n-”

“Wooyoung-” you warned though the two of you shared a chuckle over that. 

“She was the captain of her little crew, with Jongho the human driver, and Yeosang the pretty alien… fighter? Engineer? What even is his role?”

“We don’t have roles, we just… make do with what we can do,” you shook your head. “But carry on.”

“Right. So, the Captain learns that Star 1116’s cycle is about to end, and that Star 1117 is not a planet but a being by infiltrating into the Space Council- this time through the main door, not the vents,” Wooyoung laughed. “She learns about how the Space Council have also been trying to find a solution to save their home but are closer to giving up than to finding answers. Together- because that time you don’t become a space criminal- you find a way to prolong Star 1117’s cycle by concentrating the energy of all the red zones scattered out in the galaxy and transferring it to the last cycle.”

“That makes sense,” you nodded. “Red zones are energy byproducts of the previous planets.”

“Right? Star 1117 reluctantly agrees, and you all succeed- Star 1116’s cycle prolongs and leaks to Star 1117’s. The original last cycle, the 1117th, was supposed to be a shorter one since it’s just the galaxy ending itself before it reaches the 1118th cycle. But this time, the 1118th cycle begins. You all realise that you made a grave mistake and that the galaxy will eat itself like it was supposed to, but since it requires more energy to do that now, it will swallow the neighbouring galaxies and possibly trigger the end.”

You took a deep breath. “I triggered the end.”

“Not you alone, but basically… yeah. It suits you, doesn’t it?” Wooyoung chuckled, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders and caress your arms assuringly. 

“Not helping,” you muttered.

“Well,” Wooyoung huffed in resignation. “You try to make things right. You get this spaceship to Star 1117 and get it on board- its form is weakened by then and it is Star 1118 by that time. You set the destination to Earth, knowing someone on Earth would have figured out that their solar system was going to collapse soon and would do anything to change things. You leave the poor Star alone and go to save your family and friends.”

“And Star 1118 makes it to you?”

“Somehow, yes,” Wooyoung nodded. “I have always studied the Temporal Nexus deeply, so when I receive signals on my radio- yes, the radio I have now- I go to investigate the source and find your spaceship underwater near my hometown. With the help of my friends and the Space Centre on Earth, I recover that ship and find an ethereal being inside- Star 1118. Since the being is the Temporal Nexus- the past, the present, and the future of your galaxy- it finds traces of itself on me from another time.”

“Oh heavens,” you raised your head up to look at him. “It’s a time loop, isn’t it?”

“More romantic than that. We were meant to meet, y/n,” he smiled widely, pinching your nose but you were too surprised to react. “Star 1118 sets the loop into motion- or rather, propels it forwards and backwards, forwards and backwards. Jung Wooyoung now has one mission- to find the tear in space that will transport him to that moment to warn you-”

“The spaceship that collided with us,” you breathed, understanding how it worked. “It must have taken a few attempts.”

“Hence why it is a loop,” Wooyoung nodded. “However, Jung Wooyoung also did something else, which was quite genius of him if I have to say.”

“And what’s that?”

“Jung Wooyoung and Star 1118 worked together to send messages to my radio, which prompted the present me to make different decisions. And here we are,” he concluded with a dramatic sigh. “Things have changed. You can still make the same decisions and it might lead to a time where Star 1118 is not able to go to Earth to warn Jung Wooyoung. That would be the end. Or…”

“Or I could let it be,” you shrugged away from Wooyoung’s arm and buried your face in your hands. 

“I think you already know, but Star 1117 has suffered a lot,” Wooyoung said, and you were once again amazed by how gently he talked to you despite knowing what you had done- what you might do. “It suffered alone for 1117 cycles. You put an end to its sufferings and you might find a new home. A better one.”

“My home is Star 1116,” you said, though the words started to sound like a weight over your heart now. “Not everyone can let go of their home.”

“I thought you understood by now that home is where the heart is,” Wooyoung said and you looked at him to find him smiling. “Where’s your heart, y/n?”

Like the soft embrace of a mother, you felt the answer wrap around the physical organ that was your heart- the answer that was a feeling, an emotion- and not strictly a human one at all. You didn’t have to be human to understand that your heart belonged to the people around you- to your family because they were yours, to Jongho and Yeosang who were your friends, and to Wooyoung- the human who had to be your saving grace. 

Home was also the house and the land where you grew up, but it was not the location or the building that made it a part of your heart- it was the things that you associated with home. Your alien mother, your human father. Their parents who had once lived there, whose memory clung to the walls and was etched in the frames that sat on the mantle. Home was the lake next to your house but what made it a part of your heart was the memories of splashing water on Jongho and Yeosang, and the memories of your parents teaching you how to swim.

Home was where the heart was. And as long as you had the pieces of your heart next to you, you would be home.

“Did you find the answer?” Wooyoung cupped your face to wipe the tears that left your eyes, smiling knowingly. You smiled back, clutching his hands that were caressing your cheeks.

“Home is where the heart is,” you told him, your voice wet with emotions. “And you are my heart, Jung Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung’s eyes curved like moons as his smile grew wider. He nodded, the two of you sharing a laugh. You couldn’t help but notice how beautiful this piece of your heart was. You leaned forward to rest your hands on his neck, surprising him a bit. His hands went to rest on your waist and you pecked his lips, looking at him shyly before pecking them again, unable to look at him any longer so you closed the distance between you two as you hugged him. He let out a laugh of disbelief before he relaxed, burying his nose in the crook of your neck and hugging you back just as tightly, rocking your bodies slightly.

“I found a home with you too,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

You nodded, your heart filling with foreign emotions- like a pleasant tickle to your heart. Perhaps, this was what it felt like to give your heart to someone.

—-----------------------------------

Everything was happening too soon for your liking, but with the help of your friends, you were coming to terms with the fact that you could not save the Temporal Nexus Galaxy- that there was nothing that could be done and the best decision you could make was to let Star 1117 go. 

You stayed in the red zone for a whole day after your talk with Wooyoung. Exiting the red zone would mean confronting the Space Patrol and you had to make a decision before that. Jongho and Yeosang were coping by studying about time loops and talking to Star 1117 about how it worked and if there was any possibility that could work- if Star 1117 was all the past, present and the future of the Temporal Nexus, it would know if any of the decisions the residents of its galaxy made led to a hopeful future. But there was none. 

After exhausting every possibility, they finally came to talk to you and let you know that they had made their decisions- they were going to get their families out of Star 1116 and find a new home. They were also aware that some of their families and acquaintances might choose to stay and disintegrate with the planet, with their home. Now they were just waiting for you to make your decision.

And it was a little conversation with Jongho that made you wonder just what you had been so bitter about.

You joined him by the window as he stared at the blue masses of energy around the spaceship. He smiled to acknowledge your presence before saying, “Wouldn’t it be so good if we could just go back to the past and relive our childhood?”

You smiled back- your childhood really was a fond memory, something you kept very close to your heart. “How young are we talking?”

“Hmm… good question. What would you say is your happiest memory on Star 1116?”

“Honestly? Probably the time when I showed you and Yeosang that I finally learned to swim. We had a little fight afterwards about whose technique was better,” you said and he grinned at that. 

“What do you think? Would you like to go back to the past?”  

You pursed your lips in thought. Sure, your past was a golden memory and saying that you missed that time and wanted to go back wasn’t supposed to hold literal meaning, but if you were offered to go back, would you?

“What about you?” You asked.

Jongho exhaled, putting his hands in his pockets. “I wouldn’t. I like where I am now. I’m still with you and Yeosang. Nothing has changed.”

You nodded- your answer was the same. 

“And I will continue to be where the two of you are,” Jongho added. “Create more happy memories. Hell, maybe we’ll look back to this moment one day, right?”

You nodded slowly. Wooyoung had changed your perspective a lot and you were finally starting to understand Jongho.

“I might even visit Earth and see what the hype is about,” Jongho suggested and you chuckled. “Maybe we can all go to drop Wooyoung. He’s slowly taking over the spaceship. Next thing we know we’ll be calling him captain and he’ll be slaving us.”

“Right? Maybe we can chuck him into that mass and see where he lands,” you pointed at the red zone in front of you, sharing a laugh with Jongho. 

“You know, I thought about it a lot, why in all the timelines that exist, according to Star 1117, you- we keep making the same decision- trying to save the galaxy. Do you know what’s the only difference this time and why we all are seriously considering letting things be?”

“Wooyoung?”

“Yes,” Jongho confirmed. “This is the only timeline known to Star 1117 where he makes a different decision and ends up being a part of the crew. Makes you think about how the butterfly effect works, right?” He ruminated. “In all the timelines, we made different decisions that led us to the same outcome- apocalypse. Things are very different now, and this might be our last chance at making sure we do not trigger the apocalypse.”

“I know,” you folded your arms around you, hugging yourself. “We can’t be the only factor triggering the apocalypse though, right? What if we make the right decisions this time but we still end up losing everything?”

“Well… only one way to find out- if we make the right decisions now,” Jongho looked at you, hope in his eyes. “So. Did you make a decision?”

“I think you know,” you looked wistfully into the space around you. “Let’s go say goodbye to our home.”

Jongho smiled proudly at you. “Star 1117 told me that you were very bitter and hellbent on saving the galaxy in all the timelines. It’s good to see you smile like this, Captain. You seem almost human.”

“I am human,” you said casually but for Jongho, it was the first time hearing you acknowledge your human lineage and he put a hand over his mouth dramatically to stifle a gasp. You only rolled your eyes in response, spotting Wooyoung from the corner of your eye who simply passed you both a cheeky smile and waved before disappearing into the kitchen. You recalled just how adamant you had been about not accepting that you were human too. 

But being human didn’t sound so bad anymore.

And with that decision, you said your goodbye to Star 1117. The being did not thank you for making the right decision. It simply curled in on itself and weeped, the tears escaping its eyelids and evaporating into the air like glitter. You felt the being’s exhaustion and sadness as though it was tangible and that only made you more sure about what you had to do.

Right as you exited the red-zone territory, there was a spaceship waiting for you. It signalled for you to stop and a person stepped out, displaying their Space Council id and demanding to enter your ship. For a moment, you were scared of the consequences of your action- were you going to be arrested now? Would you not get to say goodbye to your home? But when the person made an okay sign, a collective sigh of relief passed and Yeosang pressed the button to open the door for them.

The tall figure clad in a black striped suit with a waistcoat entered, looking around your spaceship with curiosity. You noticed silver extensions on one of his hands, kind of like your neurons except they almost looked like an accessory. The other hand was covered in a black glove and you wondered why.

“Greetings,” he smiled. “I’m Jeong Yunho from the Space Council. It’s good to finally meet you, y/n.”

“Me?” You frowned. “Do I know you?”

“You don’t,” he shrugged, “but I do. From multiple timelines. I’ve been on your case since the very first timeline, working with Star 1117 to find a solution that does not involve exterminating you because Star 1117 insisted that while you and your friends may be its doom, you could also be its saviour.”

You suddenly felt dizzy at his admission.

“Maybe one day I’ll tell you about my adventures chasing your crew,” Yunho chuckled. “But for now… I’d like to accompany you to Star 1116 and make sure you stay on the right track. You will need me if you want to go home because I have not yet lifted your criminal charges. And… you have an unregistered human aboard,” Yunho glanced at Wooyoung who waved his hand awkwardly. “We have a lot to do, folks.”

You scanned his figure with suspicion, your neurons extracting subconsciously wanting to get a reading from him. He noticed that.

“If it helps,” he began. “I’m one of the Original Nexi. There’s a group of us that work in the Space Council solely for the sake of protecting Star 1117.”

“You’re letting Star 1117 die, though,” Yeosang commented in your stead and you silently thanked him. That had been on the tip of your tongue too.

“The Temporal Nexus is called temporal for a reason, isn’t it?” He retorted. “To protect the essence of Star 1117 and this galaxy is to protect its heart- its residents. But I think you all already understand that by now.”

The knowing smile he passed you made you want to ask more questions but he interrupted with clapping and barking orders- you were apparently short on time now and needed to inform the residents of Star 1116 and the rest of the galaxy as soon as possible so everyone could make the big decisions and they could initiate their final operation- to leave the galaxy for good.

And it was no surprise that it was Wooyoung who got the Original Nexi to talk and open up. While Jongho set the spaceship on auto towards Star 1116, the three of you watched from a corner, huddled next to each other. Not too far on the table sat Wooyoung with a warm meal for Yunho, learning anything and everything about the Original Nexi and Yunho himself, learning about his experience with your crew in the different timelines and more. You didn’t even realise that you were biting your nails with narrowed eyes full of scepticism until Wooyoung looked around for you and laughed at the sight of the three of you.

“I guess I’m relaxed because it is actually our first meeting- we haven’t met in any other timeline,” Wooyoung grinned. “Not that I would have known if we had anyway. Right?”

“Right,” Yunho grinned back, shaking his head at the three of you. “Just a reminder that we were friends in some timeline and enemies in the other.”

“Yeah, I think I can understand why,” Yeosang muttered, looking pointedly at Wooyoung. 

“How are you able to remember the timelines?” Jongho asked his first question in a while.

“These,” Yunho raised both his hands and shared a look with you. “We’re quite similar, but I’m able to look into different timelines too.”

You made an impressed face and the blinkers lit up, indicating that you were reaching Star 1116’s territory. Jongho went to steer the spaceship himself and Yunho joined him, striking up a conversation having noticed the equipment on the dashboard. While the two talked, Wooyoung joined you and Yeosang, resting his hand on your knee and squeezing it to make sure you were okay. You nodded in response and pointed at the screen, your heart filling with warmth at the sight of the star.

“We’re home.”

Home. As soon as you could see the lush green fields that surrounded your house, you were on your feet and making your way to the screen, eager to step out. You would have to land at the Space Centre where you previously worked and Yunho made sure you could pass through every security check without any inconvenience. Wooyoung stood next to you and you told him all about the Space Centre and your time as a unit there. 

Wooyoung’s eyes were filled with awe, his mouth parted in surprise as you all stepped out of the spaceship. The view from the screen had been good, yes, but nothing compared to stepping inside that picture, and for Wooyoung who was a human from Earth… you wondered if that was what your great grandparents and their team must have felt when they first landed on Star 1116.

“It’s like Earth, you were right,” Wooyoung nodded, almost jumping when a few will-o’-the-wisps circled his figure and fluttered away. Jongho giggled at his reaction and smacked his back.

“Like Earth but prettier, right?” He said. “That’s what I keep hearing.”

“No, you heard that right,” Wooyoung agreed. “Our grass looks dull compared to this- how is it so vibrant?”

“Wait till you see the lakes,” you told him, knowing that was probably the most surprising part from the memories of your great grandfather. 

“We should show him the cave too!” Yeosang joined you both. “It’s a nice spot to bury him- no one would know. He’ll be dust along with the planet-”

“And he would never make it past the tarantulas that protect the cave,” Jongho chuckled darkly and Wooyoung decided he felt safer with Yunho, falling in step with him while the Nexi shook his head in amusement at the interaction. 

“You should have chucked me in the red zone,” Wooyoung folded his arms and you snickered until you realised that he must have heard that bit from your conversation with Jongho. You exchanged a glance with the youngest who pointed at you, transferring all the blame. Wooyoung’s pout deepened and you took a deep breath.

“Boys, I’m going to steal this one for a while,” you went towards Wooyoung and hooked your arm around his, your crew hooting in appreciation and suggestively wiggling their brows, Yeosang going as far as pretending to gag. You asked Yunho if it was fine and he assured that it was, asking all of you to meet up back at the Space Centre in a few hours. You intertwined your hand with Wooyoung’s.

“What would you like to see first?”

“Hmm…” Wooyoung took a while to think, his eyes scanning everything in sight the further you walked away from the Space Centre, looking at the passersby with curiosity- you couldn’t blame him. The residents of Star 1116 looked far from human in their appearance- from looking almost human like Yeosang to having iridescent coloured skin or accessories like horns or wings.

“Show me your favourite places- all of them,” Wooyoung looked at you, kissing your temple. “Show me the shade of the tree near your house where you grew up, the lake… the places from the journals that you talked about- everything.”

“Would you like to meet my family too?” You asked hesitantly, not sure if the human would be up to it but his warm smile erased any doubts in your heart.

“I would love to.”

“My mother will love you,” you laughed. “My father can be a little… hard to please.”

“Well, I know just how to win his heart,” he winked at you and you accepted the challenge.

You showed him all your favourite places, keeping your house for the last. You walked around the streets without a care in the world for the first time in a while, making him try some local delicacies and showing him the animals unique to Star 1116- it was more of a surprise to him to find that the things you called ‘dogs’ here were more spiky than furry and he told you that you were missing out on the joy of hugging a dog. You grimaced- hugging a dog here would create pokes in your skin unless you had scales or a protective barrier like most of the aliens here.

You took him to one of the bigger lakes in the area and he was utterly fascinated by the way he could see almost every creature inside the lake thanks to the glowing properties of the soil under the lake. He experimentally dipped his hand inside the water, feeling the coolness of the lake quite like Earth’s but somehow feeling more at ease- it always unsettled him when he was near a water body on Earth and could only imagine what was prowling inside. He looked around, noticing the little things that made Star 1116 so beautiful- mountains made of smooth, patterned rocks. Trees with leaves of multiple colours, unaffected by the season and with little gems dangling from the tips of its branches where flowers would have been. The strange birds with their unusually elongated bodies that flew in the sky. The sky that was dark and the ground that he stood on that lit the planet.

It was truly a magnificent sight, and Wooyoung could understand why you- why everyone was reluctant to let go of their home.

Lastly, you walked to your house and you pointed at all the places on the way which had some memory associated with them. You told him about how the humans lived in a little community here- most of them were too old to leave their home. Some of them rarely came home, opting to explore the space instead- like you. Then you told him about your family- your mother was a crime scene investigator and your father was a medical researcher. Wooyoung was impressed to hear that and told you he would love to hear more about that.

When you reached the little cottage by the lake, you paused and took a deep breath, taking in everything. It was still the same- the wooden exterior looking worn out, the smell of wet mud filling your nose, the sound of children in the distance. You pointed at the house.

“That’s me.”

Wooyoung nodded, giving your hand a squeeze to tell you that he was ready. You walked towards the door and pressed your thumb on the lock, the door clicking open and then you heard the familiar footsteps of your mother approach you. Her face lit up at the sight of you and then she paused when she saw your hand in Wooyoung’s. She scanned him with curiosity. You looked back and forth between the two- it would only be a moment until your mother would realise that Wooyoung was not a human. And Wooyoung-

You could tell why he looked surprised- your mother wore her neuron extensions like a crown over her head at all times. Apart from her striking copper hair, she looked very much like you. 

Your mother smiled knowingly at the two of you before spreading her arms and you grinned, walking right in her embrace and melting into it. 

“Well done, love,” she whispered. “I heard about what happened with the Space Council and Star 1117. You did so well.”

“I’m sorry,” you told her, knowing that she didn’t need your words to hear what you were sorry about, nor did she need to read you. She simply knew what you meant. She always did.

“No need for that,” she drew back with a kiss to your forehead. “I see you have a guest.”

“Yes, this is-”

“A human,” your father completed that for you, clad in a mismatched outfit which was indication that he had been holed up in his room with some research again. Wooyoung finally bowed at your parents. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Jung Wooyoung… from Earth.”

“And what are you doing here with my daughter?” Your father inquired. You may have rolled your eyes if this was any other situation but your mother let you know that she had also heard about Wooyung’s role in the recent events. Relaxing a bit, you let Wooyoung handle the situation.

“She arrested me, sir.”

The room was silent for a moment before your mother snorted, ending up with all of you laughing and you shook your head at Wooyoung- you had never told him about how your parents met but it was something similar. Your father welcomed him with a pat and kissed the top of your head before steering him to the lounge, eager to hear the stories from Earth. 

And just like that, the house became a home with Wooyoung and your mother cooking together while they chatted, your father and you catching up with each other. Not too long after, the doorbell rang and in came Jongho and Yeosang, claiming to have ‘smelt’ Wooyoung’s cooking all the way to their house. They definitely didn’t get a message from your mother to join them.

You had about half an hour left until you had to go to the Space Centre. Your heart felt full watching all the people you loved gathered and Wooyoung fitting right in as if he had always been a part of this little unit. He caught you watching him with a smile on your face and raised his brows in question. You signalled that you were going outside and once he joined you, you asked if he wanted to sit by the lake.

“I’ve been soaking up all the memories of today,” you told him, showing the neurons on your fingertips shaped like nails. “I don’t think I can ever forget today’s events.”

“I did well, right?” He smiled proudly when you nodded in response. “Well, I’ve always been everyone’s favourite even back on Earth.”

You made a face at that and he scoffed. “Read me if you don’t believe me.”

“I do believe you- you have a way of charming people,” you admitted and he grinned. You showed him the spot next to some big rocks where you used to sit when you needed space. 

“This is probably my favourite spot on the whole planet,” you told him, flattening your hands on the ground once you sat, reliving the memories of this place in quick flashes. 

“I can see why,” Wooyoung looked around. With your home on the back and the view of the mountains in the front, he thought he could stay here forever.

“Yunho told me that Star 1116 will die soon, but the galaxy itself won’t end soon- it will take some time and if we’re lucky, it won’t happen in our lifetime,” you sighed deeply. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad. We will still need to find a new home. We can’t make one in the Temporal Nexus anymore.”

“Well… if you hadn’t told me that Star 1116 was your home, I would have assumed the spaceship was,” he said and you raised a brow. “It has such a homey feel to it. We can take all our time to explore the other galaxies and find a new home.”

“We?” 

“You don’t think I’m going back to Earth just like that, do you?” Wooyoung tsk-ed. “Not without you, at least.”

“Really?” You made a face. “I thought I’d be getting rid of you soon-”

Wooyoung leaned forward right when you turned, your noses brushing and your heart fluttering. Wooyoung’s gaze fell on your lips and a little smirk creeped on his own lips. 

“I know why you have your kitty claws out, sweetheart,” he tilted his head just a fraction and you instinctively gulped. “You’ve been saving all the memories of this place- with me this time.”

Well. He wasn’t wrong. Your lack of response was an answer to him and he fully smirked as he drew back. 

You wanted to tell him that you brought him here to make one final memory of this place. You curled your fingers around his hand and when your eyes met, it was like he understood your intentions. He took your other hand and pulled you over him so that you settled on his lap.

You trailed the pointy tips of your neurons along his temple and his spine, making him shiver. He loved it when you watched him with fascination and teased him experimentally as if you were afraid of his reaction. However, he welcomed every little thing you did to him. He let you cup his face and when you kissed him, he groaned in relief before kissing you back, one hand supporting him up while the other curling in your hair. You moved your lips along his in synchronisation and you loved the way he held you.

You drew back once you were out of breath, sharing a grin- this was your first proper kiss. You rested your hands on his shoulders and he lay down on the ground, eliciting a surprised sound from your mouth at the new position. Before you could comment on it, he cupped your face and brought you in for another kiss, the other hand going to rest on your waist. It was slow and sensual, not a care for time or any other thing. Just you, Wooyoung and your favourite spot in the Temporal Nexus. 

When you broke apart and settled down next to him in his arms, you watched the stars together and you showed him one that glowed with a very familiar golden tint.

“That must be Star 1117.”

Wooyoung agreed, absently caressing your arm. You looked at him, finding him deep in thought. You scratched his chin like you had seen him do to the black cat from his home and he smiled at that.

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking… will you watch the stars with me every night from now on?”

You kissed his cheek in response.“Only if I get to sleep in your arms- you are my home, Jung Wooyoung.”

[revelboo]

Sheeesh, First Starscream, then Soundwave, now Megatron?? Who’s next, Shockwave? ☠️

Nah, I’d only intended Megs, Star, and Soundwave here. Just wasn’t sure if y’all would be okay with reverse harems in your TF fics 😅

Everything Is Alright Pt 86

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• “Starscream.” Still following him, still trying to dig around in his head. Rounding on Soundwave, Starscream bares his denta. Seeing the communications officer let his hand fall. Knows that if the other mech dares to touch him, he’ll attack. Because all of this is his fault. Even if he regrets what he did, it’s far too late. Soundwave set him on this course and he can’t turn back. To keep you, he can’t hesitate, can’t waver. Glaring at Soundwave, he waits and the other mech just shakes his head. “Don’t do this.”

• “If you actually care about my mate, you won’t get in my way,” Starscream growls, wings flared. And he can feel the anger, fear, and desperation to protect what he has in the Seeker. Knows Starscream is walking a thin line, that he’s at risk of destroying everything he’s trying to keep safe. And that nothing Soundwave says is going to sway him from that goal. A fully bonded mech stressed past his limits is a dangerous thing, because he won’t stop. Can’t. Starscream brushes by him and he lets him go. Can almost feel the danger closing in. That he might be past the point of stopping this and all he can hope for is to save you from the fallout.

• Striding down the hall, Starscream’s hands won’t stop trembling. Determined even as he wants to grab you and run. To try to escape this even knowing he can’t. That he won’t be allowed happiness. Not as long as Megatron lives. He’s tried so many times to overthrow him, always failing. Always suffering for that failure. This time he has to succeed, because it’s not only him at risk. You’re his to protect, you need him. And he needs you.

• “Attempts to synthesize stable energon alternatives have been so far unsuccessful, but-” Lifting his head when Shockwave trails off, Megatron keeps sliding his servo up and down your back, amusing himself with how uncomfortable you are with his touch as you sit on his thigh, little hands in fists. “Lord Megatron, I realize it’s not my place to question you, but why?” Venting in amusement as Shockwave just gestures weakly with his cannon. Not sure if the other mech is more put off by having a human about or that you’re not in a cage somewhere. Or it could be that he’s touching you.

• “A learning opportunity for Starscream, that’s all,” Megatron says, servos curling around you as you inhale sharply. “Keep up your experiments,” he adds, flicking the servos of his other hand dismissively. All day there’s been a stream of visitors reporting in. Asking for him to mediate arguments, most of which seem fairly petty. As soon as this one leaves, he slumps back against his throne, free hand lifting to rub between his optics. And you’re realizing there’s two faces to Megatron. The intimidating warlord and this exhausted, over it version that disappears as soon as he’s not alone. Apparently you’re not worth keeping up the act most of the time, though. Head falling back, optics shuttered, he vents. “Tell me, pet. Do you really believe that traitorous creature can change?”

• “I think he wants to,” you say, soft voice wavering as he slides a servo up to rest against your throat, tapping idly. “If you’d just let him.” Huffing out a laugh, he glances down at your serious, little face. Amused that you seem to actually believe that. Poor little thing. You still don’t understand Starscream’s ambition. That he can’t help himself, clawing for power no matter the consequences. While he’s not sure what the Seeker saw in you that distracted him temporarily from his goal, he knows it’s just that. Temporary. Freezing when you lay your warm hands on his servo, Megatron nearly pulls his hand away.

• Lowering your head when those angry optics narrow, you hold your breath. “If I let him,” he mutters as your shoulders droop. “You’re loyal to him, I’ll give you that. You’d be better served being loyal to me, though.” That servo against your throat tips your chin up, forcing you to meet his optics. “He cares for you, talks to you. You must hear things.” Pushing at his servo, you realize he’s wanting you to spy on Star. Tell him his secrets.

• “Not happening.” That anger in your soft voice is a surprise, unexpected as those eyes narrow at him. So there is some fire to you. He’d assumed you were all soft and compliant, easily cowed. Why does that little flash of temper twist through him? Because you’re resisting him and he’s so used to his followers never outright disagreeing or refusing him? “I’m not betraying him for you. He’s trying to be better and I love him for-” and you stop short, dropping your eyes and going still. Love? That’s how Starscream wrapped you about his servos? Convinced you that he loved you, cared for you? Because it’s so ludicrous he almost pities you, laughing despite himself as you stiffen.

Previous

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[detroit-become-hurt]

Sweet Thing

So to kickstart this block again I'm regressing into old hyperfixations. So here's a fanfic I'm working on for The Lost Boys! I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Moving to Santa Carla was a sudden decision, but something about it just felt right. There was something about that place, calling you to it, you just didn't know what.

Or: you're drawn to Santa Carla cause you're the final mate of The Lost Boy's pack

I sighed heavily as I sat on a bench at the boardwalk. Santa Carla was fun for the first week upon moving here, but after that it sort of just lost its charm. It was the same routine of showing up to work at the little oddities shop between the chinese take out place and some other little resturant that served the greasiest burgers. It wasn’t a bad job, but it wasn’t always the busiest as there were other attractions to see that were much more interesting. The shop consisted of bad taxidermy, crystals, fake skulls (which a lot of people thought were real), and tarot cards/readings. It wasn’t a bad gig, just again, not the busiest. 

Tonight was my night off, and I really had no idea what to do. I decided sitting here was better than sitting at home, with even less to do. Deciding it was best to grab some food I stood up, making my way over towards the shop and the chinese place. Chinese sounded good for dinner. As I neared the resturant, I couldn’t help but notice a group of bikers loitering outside the shop. There was two blondes, rough housing with each other. A tall dark haired main leaned on the wall of the front of the shop, watching the two blondes wrestle. And finally, leaned against one of four bikes was a third blond, a cigarette balanced between his lips. His eyes flitted through the crowd, taking in faces, a dark look lurking behind them.

It wasn’t really of any concern to me seeing these four, Santa Carla was full of different types of people, and I’ve seen them around before at different places on the boardwalk. We never interacted before, but a cloud of trouble oozed off of them. I tried to keep to myself. 

Ordering my food I waited to the side for them to finish preparing it, tapping my foot lightly as I listened to the sounds around me. Rollercoasters whizzed by with screams that lasted mere seconds, loud carnival music and people chattering away. It was almost overwhelming, the sounds. But you grow used to it pretty fast. Finally my order was called, and I picked up the bag containing the food. Upon closer inspection I realized that they had gotten my order wrong…but it wasn’t worth arguing. They ended up giving me more than what I ordered, I wasn’t going to complain.

“Perhaps Sandra would want some of this…” I wondered out loud, thinking of my coworker who was currently working tonight. Deciding I would share my feast, I walked over to the shop, towards the group of four bikers. As I approached, I caught the attention of the blonde leaning against the bike. His eyes trailed up and down me slowly, sizing me up. “Um…excuse me. Could you move your bikes, so I can like…get inside the store.” I asked, trying to maintain eye contact.

“You want us…to move our bikes…so you can go inside?” He repeats back to me, and I instantly knew what he was doing.

“Yes. You, move bikes. I go, inside?” I throw back, raising an eyebrow. The banter between the two of us caught the attention of the other three. The second blonde with curled ringlets going down his back couldn’t help but snicker, flashing me a dangerous smile and a wink when I looked his way. “Really it would just be easier if you moved, so I don’t have to weave in and out of your guys bikes and risk knocking one over. So what’s it gonna be pretty boy?” I asked shifting weight on my feet.

The third blond, who’s hair was teased to high hell and back laughed loudly. “Aw come on sugar, if anyone’s pretty here it’s you.” He says wrapping an arm his friend with the ringlets. “Do we at least get to know your name?” 

“What’s your name? I’ve seen you guys around before.” I say chewing my lip. I really did not expect to get into such a conversation, but it seemed like there was no backing out now. “If I tell you my name, will you please move your bikes?” I throw in, hoping they would indeed do as I asked.

His grin widens, and he sauntered down the steps, wrapping his arm around me. The smell of aqua net hair spray and weed overtook my senes. “I’m Paul. That’s Marko, Dwayne, and David.” He says pointing each of them out. “And I…have definetly not seen you around here. Are you new?” he questions.

Slipping out of his arm I nod, “I’m y/n. And yes, I am new. I just moved here about a week and a half ago.” I say. “Now really, this is quite the lovely chat but I think I’m just gonna weave around the bikes. Sorry to bother you.”

David holds his hand up, stopping my movements. “Hang on there sweet thing, you didn’t give me a chance to answer. Since I am a man of my word, we will move our bikes.” It’s funny he says that, cause he never mentioned giving me his word. But oh well. “Come on boys, let’s get out of here. We’ll see you around y/n.” he gives me a smirk, again something hiding behind his expression as the other three revved their bikes to life. With hoots and hollers they revved the engines a few more times before taking off, nearly hitting me in the process.

“Fuckin assholes,” I mutter as my heart pounds in my chest. Finally walking up the steps I walk inside, “Sandra! It’s me! I brought some food, the chinese place messed up the order.” Walking to the counter I set the food down, taking it out and arranging it so we could easily grab what we wanted. 

Sandra comes out from the back, a yawn errupting from her lips. “Oh thank god, I was going to fall asleep back there. Hey, did you hear like, motocrycle sounds?” She asks as she grabs some food.

Between swallows I nod, “Yeah. Some bikers out front. I asked them to move, and it took a minute but they did. Who knew all I had to do was give them my name.” I say. “I got their names in return. David, Marko, Paul, Dwayne. Interesting group of guys. I’ve seen them around the boardwalk before.” 

Sandra freezes, looking up at me with wide eyes. “Y/n…please tell me you’re joking. Like say sike right now.” She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, anxiousness radiating into my bubble.

“What’s the big deal? They’re not trouble are they?” 

“Oh yes they’re trouble! They’re dangerous y/n. They’re always in trouble with security on the boardwalk, bothering people.” Sandra’s looking me dead in the eyes now, a look I can’t place. 

Finishing up my food I wipe my mouth, “Okay. I’ll keep my distance. Can’t blame me too much you know, I just moved here.” A part of me was annoyed. I appreciated her concern, but again I just moved here. And the boys seemed nice enough…although that doesn’t make up for the fact that I don’t know them.

“I know. I’m sorry, I just really like you and I don’t want you to end up on a missing person’s poster. It would suck to not have you in my life anymore.” That was one thing I was definetly grateful for, was my quick friendship with Sandra. She took me around, showed me the ropes, and was always there should I have needed anything in my short time in Santa Carla.

“Thank you, Sandra. Really.” Glancing at the clock on the wall I sighed, “I should probably get going, it’s getting late and I have to work a twelve hour tomorrow.” 

Sandra gives me a sympathetic look. “Well if you need anything, give me a holler okay? Seeya later!” Her voice disappears as the bell to the door chimes and I’m once again outside. Traffic has quieted quite a bit, not so loud. Turning I begin to make my way home, unaware of the set of eyes watching me from the dark.

I want her.

Me too.

She needs to be with us, one of us.

Soon, she will be. Give it time.

[teaboot]

I'm surprised/impressed? by how blase you are about people threatening you at work. A neighbor threatened me last week and it was so scary and I wish I could have had the same kinda response you seem to.

First off, I hope you're safe and okay, that's an awful experience to be familiar with and especially bad that they live so close to you D:

Second, I'm certainly no maverick out here- I've only been doing this a few years now- but I've found that about 99% of threats I receive have very little intent to follow through.

The type of threats I usually receive are typically from:

Someone who's had bad experiences with security or police, in the past. People with hand and face tattoos, homeless folks, people with mannerisms that get them labeled as "sketchy", POC, and people who've been incarcerated all have valid reason to believe I'm out to get them, and may get treated badly elsewhere often enough that they're expecting that. Every time I approach someone, I have to take this into account and do everything I can to signal that they haven't been profiled based on preexisting stereotypes.

Someone experiencing the symptoms of a mental health condition. People with mental illnesses are statistically victims of crime more often than they are perpetrators. That said, I have run into people before whose mental illness can present as aggression- if someone behaving erratically or is known for that sort of thing tells me they're gonna blow my brains out, but I can clearly see they're unarmed, not coming towards me, haven't hurt anyone, and show no intent of escalating, I'm probably not in danger. A few people I've met will see me again in a day or two and will have no problems with me at all.

Someone who is scared, frustrated, anxious, or grieving. Not to excuse violence in any context, but in my experience 99% of people who blow up at me aren't actually thinking about me. Anger isn't so much an emotion in a lot of ways as it is the reaction to another emotion- if someone tells me they're gonna kick my ass, I have to question if there's anything they may be frightened, frustrated, or sad about something else entirely. If I can address and resolve what's causing the anxiety, the anger usually goes away next. If I can't deescalate, my next job is to disengage and make sure myself and others aren't at risk of harm.

People who want something from me. This does not happen often. Maybe they want me to back off, or leave them alone, or let them take something, whatever- maybe they think I'm someone with clearance to use physical force, or they think my flashlight is pepper spray. Whatever it is, once they've made it clear they're willing to act, I back off. Unless they're hurting another person, nothing they want is worth getting stabbed or shot over. And physical conflict is insanely stressful, even for the attacker, so even then whoever threatening me will likely take any "out" I can give- I keep paths of escape clear, stay out of range, keep calm and respectful. Every time this has happened to me, the person has run away when given the chance.

People who genuinely want to hurt me and intend to follow through. Again, this is super uncommon- I think it's only really happened to me once or twice on the job. Yes, it's scary, but I find it helps to remember that they arent after me, they're after the uniform. If someone is coming after me in costume, so to speak, it's not who I am as a person, it's what I represent. And a lot of people seem to think I'm a cop, or see me as a faceless goon, or a past abuser, or an intruder in their life specifically sent to make them miserable. If that's what they believe, there's not much I can do to change their mind except, again, stay calm and respectful and disengage.

I do know how to defend myself to an extent, but again, I don't have weapons or restraints or a vest or anything and I'm kinda small on top of that so really I'm cool with hauling ass if I gotta. If me getting the fuck out of dodge resolves the issue then I'm not above radio'ing HQ from the top of a tree somewhere, that shit is above my pay grade.

TL/DR in my personal limited experience, someone who has told me that they're going to hurt me wouldn't have given me the warning unless there was something I could do to avoid it. Stay calm, don't yell, be respectful, give them an escape route and run if you need to

Stay safe out there, yeah?

[cheapshrimpysheep]

You Will Stop the Wedding! - Jamil Viper

SUMMARY: YOU were the one being kidnapped by Princess Eliza to marry her. How would he react and how would he save you? With the aggravation of he already having a crush on you.

CHARACTERS: Jamil Viper x Reader

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Declaration

WORD COUNT: 1.260 words

Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia

Rescuing You - Deuce Spade; Jack Howl; Floyd Leech; Kalim Al-Asim

COMMENTS: What have I done? Why did I commit to writing this? And why did I write so much? Why was I so inspired? There were seven of them! Why do I do this to myself? So yeah, this took me a long time. But I hope it was worth it, for me and for you.

CONTEXT: Someone was kidnapped to marry some ghost princess and might end up turning into a ghost too. And they just found out that someone was you.

Jamil was not present at the Housewarden's meeting, since he isn't one. But it didn't take long for Kalim to tell him, especially because he was panicking. He starts saying loose sentences about ghosts, kidnapping, marriage and especially your name. Jamil gets very serious and asks Kalim to stop for a few seconds, calm down a little and explain things clearly. And if that doesn't work, he has a plan B: ask one of the other Housewardens. Riddle would be an excellent choice.

After fully understanding what is happening, he himself panics for a moment. But then he clears his throat and calms himself down. He asks, no, he orders Kalim to stay safe in Scarabia while he joins the others in the rescue groups. When Kalim tries to convince Jamil to let him help them, Jamil gets straight to the point and says it's dangerous, both for him and for you. Does he really want to risk ruining everything? It's your life that's at stake here! Jamil was being harsher than usual, but Kalim knew why, and promised that he would stay in Scarabia hoping that everything would go well. He would behave well for Jamil and for you.

However Jamil is too cautious to simply believe him. So most likely, without Kalim noticing, Jamil will put him to sleep or something with some spell or with his Snake Wisper. You know, just in case.

Jamil asked to be in the last group. A little like Azul, he is the type to first analyse all angles of the situation before forming a more appropriate plan.

When it's the last group's turn, whenever someone needs to stay behind to tie up the ghosts, Jamil tells one of the others to do it. He always managed to show himself as a good strategist and someone who conveys the confidence of a leader, so the others just followed this order without questioning much. His behavior showed that he seemed to have a plan in place. He ends up being the only one to arrive at the ceremony hall.

He could follow the plan, but he knew himself well in this regard. He is good at hiding his true feelings, but he is not good at showing feelings that are antagonistic to his true ones. The princess would definitely notice this as she noticed some of the others' strategies. For these reasons he had a plan B, but still wanted to try the original plan.

“Your majesty, you must stop this wedding. You are taking with you someone who doesn't want to be with you. If you don't marry someone who loves you back, both of your lives... afterlives? will be miserable. And that's why I'm here. Please accept me as your husband and I promise to do everything in my power to make your afterlife wonderful.” Everything was going well, until he proposed to be her husband.

The princess said out loud the same thing that you also noticed. In these sentences his emotion almost disappeared, showing that he was lying. And she accused him of trying to deceive her.

Jamil sighed. He was now forced to follow plan B, which he never really likes to follow: Be honest. “You are correct, your majesty. I was lying. But-” Before he could continue speaking the princess ordered the guards to catch him. And he had a plan for that too.

He managed to dodge all the ghost guards and was heading towards the altar where you and the princess were. But one thing wasn't part of his plan: One of the guards turning into a giant ghost. Obviously he still tried to fight and did his best, but he still lost against the guard. As soon as the guard caught him, the princess wasted no time in slapping him, she didn't want to hear his excuses.

However, Jamil remained able to move. Everyone gasps, including the princess. When the guards ask what's going on, the princess says it can only mean one thing. The thing is that her slap is capable of petrifying anyone, except those who have already found their true love. The reaction from all NRC students is like "What the F-?!" And Jamil’s reaction was to lower his head to try to make his hair hide his face.

Then he lifted it again, with an upset and slightly obscured expression on his face. He really hated exposing himself like that, but at that moment, it was his last shot to save you. “Do you want the truth? I'm here for someone, yes, but not for you. I'm here for the person you kidnapped to force to be your partner.” She starts to say that she didn't kidnap or force anyone. “Your delusion disgusts me.” The guard shakes him, threatening him not to insult the princess.

But now the princess is interested. He was there for you? So why did he ask to marry her? “Because we had a plan.” Jamil admits, as if he's had enough and just wants to resolve everything once and for all. “Making you accept one of us as a husband to put a ring on your finger that would send you to the afterlife.” The princess is offended and feels attacked by that. And while she and the guard start to say how outrageous that is, Jamil looks at the princess again, but this time with a condescending look.

“If you're going to take someone with you, take me then. Let (Y/N) go. Let me go in their place. From a young age I learned that part of my job would be to be willing to give my life for someone. Let me give my life for someone I lo... care about, then.” He couldn't fake something like this that well.

And, out of nowhere, the princess started to feel sorry for herself and jealous of you. Having someone willing to give their life for you like that. This was the greatest proof of love anyone could give. How she wished she had someone like that for herself too. And this was the opportunity that the guard who was in love with her found to declare himself and say that he would give his life for her, after all, technically, he had already done so. And that whole ending of the princess realizing that she loved him too happens, they get married and happily ever after.

As soon as the guard releases Jamil, he runs to you. “Are you well? Are you hurt?” You were petrified, but shortly afterwards you could move again. Jamil never left your side until the ghosts left.

After everything and while the first-years were getting ready to tidy up and clean the cafeteria, you asked Jamil to wait a bit. You leave the room so you can talk alone. He couldn't look at you, and he was trying to hide his face with his hands or his hair. He had practically already declared himself to you during all that madness. So you decide it's your turn to tell him that you feel the same way about him. He looks at you in surprise and you can see how flattered he was.

Knowing now that your feelings were mutual, he becomes kind of smug. “Does that mean you would give your life for me too? That you would serve me if necessary? *chuckle* Don't worry, I'm just messing with you. Unless you don't mind.” You say you would at least kiss him right there and then if that's what he wants. He holds you by the waist. “Be my guest.”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[galedekarios]

gale & karlach

i think out of all the dynamics between the companions, i've come to enjoy gale and karlach the most over my time with the game. karlach especially bc she's the only one who genuinely seems to care about and for gale.

she repeatedly checks in on him after the orb reveal and doesn't turn it into a joke about slurping carrots, or sipping wine, or wanting him to be gone entirely from the group.

not only does she advocate for him to stay three times, depending on which dialogue path you pick:

gale's background story reveal & the reveal about the netherese orb

Karlach: Come on. We all have our secrets - and our risks. If Gale leaves, we might as well disband completely. - Karlach: Absolutely. We're all risky in our own ways. We stick together anyway. Right? - Karlach: If having dangerous, otherworldly objects stuck in your skin is wrong, then Gale and I both have to go. We're not really splitting up, are we?

but she's also the only one who repeatedly asks him throughout the game how he is doing, to make sure how he's faring, both in general and with his debilitating condition:

act 2 - shadow-cursed lands banter

Karlach: Doing all right, Gale? Gale: Oh, you know... Still alive and kicking, despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of darkness and decay... devnote: Almost with a sigh. That's just how things are - Grim humour to it. Karlach: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.

act 3 - after mystra stabilised the orb

Karlach: How's the orb treating you, Gale? Gale: Oh, quite well as a matter of fact. Since it was stabilised, it's been humming along nicely. Gale: I have noticed one adverse side-effect. I seem to be losing hair in some, er, unexpected places. Karlach: I can only imagine.

i think it really bears repeating/stressing that no other companion does this. not one checks in on gale like karlach does, after his affliction has become known to his companions - with the exception of the protag potentially.

karlach also arguably has the strongest reaction in response to mystra's demands in act 2, showing again her care for gale, as well as her protective side:

Karlach: Aw, was that Gale's granddad? Player: That was Elminster Aumar - the most famous wizard in the realms. Karlach: Huh. Doesn't ring a bell. But all right! Must've had something important to say to Gale, if he came all this way. Good news, I hope. Player: I don't think it was. It turns out Gale has an explosive bomb in his chest - and Mystra has asked him to use it to blow up the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: Whoa, now. He's got a... well, I guess that would explain a little, but... Mystra... I mean, this is a lot to take in. Karlach: What's he going to do? - Player - Option 1: I think he's going to follow through with it. Karlach: Fuck me. There's devotion, and then there's stupidity. If the god of magic can't handle this without sacrificing Gale, she's no god at all. - Player - Option 2: I don't think he'd do that to himself, even if Mystra commanded it. Karlach: Good. I'm one hundred percent sure there's another way to bring down this cult. No true god would ask such a thing from her faithful. That's for certain. Karlach: Poor Gale. He must be in bits after hearing that. I'll distract him. Tell him I haven't read a book since secondary school, watch his face melt off. - Player - Option 3: I'm not sure. I think he's of several minds. Karlach: Well, tell him to pick the right one. Better yet, I'll do it. Fucking wizards, man! They always need help picking the simple, obvious option. Karlach: If Mystra can't think of another way to stop the Absolute than sacrificing Gale, she's no god worth worshipping. I'll say that to Gale - in, you know, gentle terms. - Player - Option 4: You know that bomb in Gale's chest? Mystra has asked him to use it to explode the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: She what?! Is she mad?! - Player - Option 5: Don't worry about it. Karlach: Karlach doesn't worry, she acts. So if Gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.

i particularly like that last response bc it really echoes throughout her relationship with gale ("karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.").

their banters are often playful, but also genuine. both karlach and gale tease each other, they joke with each other, showing how comfortable they are with each other despite their many differences, but there are also moments of understanding and care between them, allowing them to emphasise with each other:

Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who? Gale: She who thirsts buys drinks the first. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard! devnote: Jockeying with Gale (prob supposed to be Joking with Gale) Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines.

Karlach: Just when I was getting used to the sky again... Gale: Fear not, Karlach. Sun, moon and stars will still be there waiting for us. devnote: Reassuring Karlach: Meanwhile, this place is pretty spectacular, isn't it? Gale: No book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice. But perhaps our stories might, when we return to the surface. devnote: Agreeing with Karlach, enjoying the sense of wonder as you explore

Gale: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach. Gale: Passionate, primal, capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort, or inflicting the profoundest damage. devnote: Listing the qualities of fire, Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Karlach: That's... pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But now I will.

Karlach: Wouldn't mind a dancing axe of my own. Gale: A simple movement charm wouldn't be too hard to apply to such an object. I could conjure one up for you if you like? Karlach: Yes! I like! Gale: Very wel then. Once the city is saved, Karlach's Kinetic Cleaver will be first on my list.

Karlach: So, Gale - got any book recommendations for me?devnote: With concern Gale: You can read?! devnote: Taking the piss - knows full well Karlach can read, and that she's always claimed not to enjoy it Karlach: Very funny. Yes - I can read. School put me off big boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing. devnote: Friendly rather than flirtatious Gale: Say no more - I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep. devnote: Jumping on the opportunity to give a book recommendation (a favourite hobby) Karlach: Ooh! Something with magic, please. And no devils.

even at his most vulnerable moments, karlach is there to support him:

before the stormshore tabernacle audience with mystra

Karlach: You can do this, Gale. And I'll be right here when you're done.

she allows herself to be protective of him and get angry on his behalf not after when it comes to mystra, but also when he is potentially kidnapped by orin:

karlach's reaction to gale being kidnapped

Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.

once again, it's a good callback to her previous line: "karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me."

she's willing to be needed by him - and he does need her. whether that is as a friend, or (if you chose to play so during an origin pt) as a romantic partner. it's a lovely dynamic either way.

[mydearlybeloathed]

── 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a mission to recover your prized research from your greedy ex-employer goes awry when you, the crew's pacifist, decide to join the fight in the name of saving your beloved captain. when you awake from your near-mortal injuries, luffy demands to know why you put yourself in danger, and you're not sure you can answer him.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: luffy x gn!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: title from cariño by the marías, description of injuries, angst and fluff, researcher!reader, requested

𝐚/𝐧: i really liked writing this 🙆 thanks for the request! sorry it took a minute 😃

𝐎𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Luffy didn’t know if he should try to hug you or get as far away from you as he could. Did you want him to go? Did you want him to stay? He tired gouging it from your face, but all he found was indifference, your fingers toying with the edges of your latest read. 

“Say what you think,” he finally said. Luffy pulled up your desk chair and sat across from where you sit cross-legged on your bed. 

Your lips pursed, brows meeting. “I think… I think all of this is stupid.”

Luffy had to fight back the instinct to disagree, unsure if that would bode well when your usual easy smile was nowhere in sight. But it wasn’t stupid, not to him. Not when it concerned you. “That guy stole your research.”

A strangled laugh left you. “I can rewrite the journals. I can do more research. I…” You clapped the book shut and set it aside, eyes on the ground. “I can’t get a new Luffy.” Your cheeks burned instantly. “Or—or a new Zoro, Sanji, and Usopp.”

He ducked down to catch your gaze, startling you into looking right into his warm eyes. He tried a tiny grin. “We’ll get your journals back, okay? Years of research can’t be lost like that.”

That’s what he’d been saying since your old employer finally caught up to you—you and your seven years of study. Mister Fike thrived off the work of others, loafing off people who once trusted him and his dream of an enlightened, freely educated society. 

Bullshit. All of it. The moment you realized he only wanted your research for his own gain was the day you started running—and what luck you had to run right into Monkey D. Luffy. 

Perhaps it was foolish to think Mister Fike would allow so much money to just slip away, but then maybe you were foolish. He’d caught you unguarded in the dead of night, docked at an out-of-the-way port, and swept away with all the data and observations you’d spent so long crafting. Your life’s work, gone in the blink of an eye.

Your hand grazed your cheek where a bandage covered the cut Mister Fike had given your face—his only warning before you were frozen into fear and let him walk away. 

Mister Fike would do much worse if Luffy got in his way. You clamped shut your eyes and pleaded, “Don’t. I can start over, Luffy. It’s not worth the risk.”

He stayed a moment in quiet thought and you nearly hoped Luffy was hearing you out, until he opened his mouth. “‘Cause you’re pacific, right? That’s what Robin said.”

You blinked at him before a half-amused smile rose to your lips. “Pacifist, Luffy. I’m a pacifist.”

“I just don’t get it. You’ve fought before.”

You shifted at the unpleasant reminder, memories flashing in your mind of a time your hand had been forced. “Because I had to.”

Luffy sighed and sat in thought, taking in your nervous twitching before he caught sight of your desk, where papers were scattered across the surface from where you’d searched for any notes you had left. Your life’s work, stolen from you. One day your research was going to help people—it was your dream—and by the gods, Luffy was not going to let some asshole take that from you.

“We know where to find him,” Luffy said, standing. He met your widened eyes. “Nami was able to track him down pretty easy.”

You lurched forward and caught his hand, rising quickly. “Please. Don’t do this. I can’t risk it.”

Luffy simply cast your hand a look before he was prying you off him, squeezing your fingers as a less than reassuring smile took his face. “Then I will.”

He turned swiftly and made for the door, already back in his head about how he would go about tearing Mister Fike apart when a loud thump had him swiveling around again. You stomped across the floor, collecting your shoes and the bo-staff you hardly had any use for, spinning it around sharply to test your rusty skills. You settled him with a firm glare with nothing too real behind it. “If we do this, we do it together.”

And just like that he was a kid at Christmas, bouncing on his toes as he hooked his arm through yours and started hurrying down the hall, your staff clanging against the walls. “We never fight together! This is great!”

You failed to share in his optimism, trying with everything in you to keep the looming dread at bay. 

જ⁀➴

Your whole body locked up at the horrifying crack of a skull under your staff, and you swiftly defended your actions to your own self. They attacked me. I had no choice.

You just had to get through this battle without looking too long at the red splotching your weapon. 

Mister Fike’s ship hadn’t changed much from when you’d frequented the place. The halls were a bit dustier, though. No wonder he needed your research so bad. There was no one left to take advantage of.

Past the third deck security, you flew down the hall, muscle memory taking you back to Fike’s office. The plan was simple. Get in, get out. Simple. You had nothing to worry about.

Zoro’s familiar shadow suddenly ran up beside you, dragging a relieved gasp out of you. “Oh, thank God.”

He cast you a grin. “I figured you’d want some help.”

Just as the warmth set into your chest, the whole ship tilted sharply before righting itself. Gritting your teeth, you glared at the ceiling. “Luffy!”

“Keep moving,” said Zoro, ushering you along. He busted down the door to the office and sent it splintering around the room. 

“Right, right…” Mumbling kept you steady as you rushed around the office, rifling through drawers and papers till the tell-tale baby blue of your logbook came into view. You pressed it to your chest in a short embrace, sighing deeply.

As much of a fight you put up, your research meant the world to you. Getting it back meant even more. Luffy knew that. Maybe you could consider forgiving him, later, when you’re off the ship and back to safety. 

You and Zoro made it to the main deck in record time; the southern part of the ship just started to tip beneath the waves. Gravity dragged you down, teetering precariously on your heels when Zoro’s hand grounded your shoulder. You murmured a thanks and bolted across the tilting deck. The crew gathered on a level spot, allowing you to catch your breath—before all of it was stolen when you noticed someone was missing.

“Where’s Luffy?” you demanded needlessly as moments later chaos erupted farther up the ship at the helm. Luffy faced Mister Fike, each man contorted by a terrifying rage. Fike’s strength might’ve been great, but surely he was no match for Luffy. Your blood ran cold as you noticed a flash of silver in Fike’s smile. In his wide maw, three rows of rotating teeth glinted in the sun. A zoan-type fruit, perhaps. “That’s new…”

You stood paralyzed alongside your friends, eyes locked on the fight as Luffy lunged at Fike, the man in turn snapping his jaws and narrowly snagging Luffy’s arm. You jolted forward, the only thing stopping you being Nami’s hand closing round your wrist. “He can handle it,” she snapped, her face betraying her panic. 

A guttural scream struck the air. Luffy’s right arm was trapped in Fike’s teeth while his left tried to pry the shark man’s jaw open. Shock shot through everyone before it hit you, your heart dropping. Nami shouted as you took off at break-neck speed, not a thing on your mind aside from the need to help him. Fike’s henchmen—your old colleagues—struggled to stand from where they’d been beaten to a pulp, their efforts useless as you jumped over their heads and reaching hands. Feet pounding across the steel deck, you swept up to the helm, leaping over the last step to find Fike tossing Luffy aside. The boy rose from the ground slowly, chest heaving, eyes blazing. Luffy would terrify you if he didn’t mean so much to you.

“Fike!” You raised your bo-staff and marched toward him. His slitted eyes took you in like a last meal. 

A laugh rumbled in his chest. “Looks like someone got their sea legs! Last I saw you, you were bent over the side of this very ship emptying your lunch.”

Luffy murmured your name, drawing your attention as he stalked toward Fike. His arm was practically in shreds, flesh torn and bound to scar. “Let me handle this.” He chanced a look at you, eyes softening. “You’re not a fighter.”

“I can be,” you breathed, resolve solidifying. You set your jaw and faced your old employer, taking one step at him just as Luffy’s arms grabbed your middle and flung you behind him. “Luffy!”

“Stay back.” His tone left little room for discussion, and the way his eyes flashed at you had you frozen in place, not able to stand. 

Watching from the ground, your blood boiled at each strike and slash Fike took at your captain—your friend. The future King of the Pirates. Fike’s eyes darted to you every other move, glimmering like he wanted you to watch. Like Fike expected you to sit by and do nothing. 

You’d been a pacifist most of your life. Ever since your home and half your village were burned to the ground due to the actions of quarreling pirates and marines, you made a vow to never be one to perpetuate such violence. You’d done pretty well at keeping that vow, going out to spread knowledge to those who couldn’t access it on their own—and then you met Mister Fike, who tricked you into thinking he wanted the same as you, for everyone to get the chances you never had as a child. But Fike was a liar, the kind of liar you hated the most; the kind who burned down people’s lives with their selfish lying. 

Finding Luffy was both a saving grace and an inevitable end to your vow. He was kind and just and generous, and you loved being on his crew dammit, but he asked things of you you weren’t sure you could give. Things like fighting. You almost heard his cheery laughter and litheful voice now, saying, “Fight for what you believe in, for the people you love, and you won’t have anything to regret!”

A sharp gasp left you breathless as Fike nearly caught Luffy’s head in his jaws. Luffy grabbed at Fike’s razor-sharp teeth, prying them back open even while in the shark-man’s grasp. 

Luffy asked many things of you. Things you wanted to give him. Like fighting for those you care about and care about you in return. You hated violence with a burning passion—but perhaps you loved Luffy more. You rose to your feet and lunged forth, bo-staff catching Fike’s gut. Fike lurched back and snarled, throwing Luffy aside to zero in on you instead. You sent hit after hit at him, driving him back all while he kept that smug grin on his maw. 

Angry huffs of breath puffed from your lips until Fike caught you staff in his fist, cracking it between his jaws. Luffy grunted your name and your eyes found him instinctively, guard dropped as soon as you spotted him in a lump a few feet off. Fike grabbed you instantly and suspended you in the air, his claw-like hands constricting your diaphragm. He leered right in your face, tongue passing over his lips. “Should’ve listened to your friend.”

Letting slip a growl, you snapped your head forward to try his own tactics, biting his oblong nose sharply. A nasty metallic taste filled your mouth causing you to recoil, gagging. Fike’s grip loosened for all of two seconds before you could no longer breathe, his large hand crushing your torso till a horrifying crack rang in your ears, followed quickly by another, and all at once you hit the ground in a lump. Choked whimpers fled your lips as you curled in on yourself, too focused on your breathing to think about Luffy bellowing your name.

You forced every inhale, the action pinching something in your chest. God, you’d never felt pain like this. Panic surged up your body till it hit your brain—Chopper once yelled at Sanji for his broken ribs, needing to check if his lungs were damaged or impaired. Oh god… You sucked in a breath only to whine it back out and tug at your constricting shirt, sweat beading along your skin.

Through foggy vision and fuzzy ears, Luffy’s voice was the only thing louder than the terrible ringing and ache wrought throughout your body. The pain preluded the numbness that blazed through your ribcage, leaving you unable to breathe quite right but without the pinching to blame it on. Two arms scooped under your shoulders and legs, lifting you into a broad chest. The shifting of your body dragged out a strangled cry. “‘M sorry… ‘M sorry…”

You blinked up to find Luffy’s face silhouetted by the sun blazing behind him. You murmured his name and Luffy picked up his pace, ignoring Nami berating him, ordering him to slow down. He couldn't! He had to get you to Chopper. He chanced another look down at your face to see if your brows were any more pinched just to find your eyes shut and expression relaxed. 

“Why’re they sleeping?” he demanded, bounding up the Going Merry’s gangway with Zoro hot on his trail. “Wake up. Gotta wake up so Chopper can ask what’s wrong.”

“They can’t hear ya, Luffy,” Zoro said evenly. He gripped his captain’s shoulder and guided him in a quick pace to where Chopper would be held up in the galley. 

Luffy gritted his teeth, no longer occupied with watching where he’s going, only focused on you. “Then they need to wake up.”

Zoro had both his hands on Luffy’s shoulders, jerking him down the hall and pushing him into the galley. “They will. Give ‘em a minute.”

From the way Zoro said it so softly, Luffy had a feeling it would be longer than a minute.

You woke from a surprisingly restless sleep far later into the day, when the moon peaked up over the horizon and the sun retreated to her home beyond the sea. The very first thing you noticed was that you weren’t dead, which was something. You sure felt like you were dying, but maybe that was due to your lack of experience being mortally injured. The others seemed to be used to it, breaking bones and ribs like it’s an idiotic game. Did this draft you into that game? If so, you had the sense you were losing.

“Good!” Chopper popped through your bedroom door, beaming at you. “You’re awake!”

A gentle smile graced your lips. “Hey, Chop.” A brief glance at the wall clock, and face fell. “You should be in bed.”

The reindeer shuffled toward you, waving his hooves dismissively. “I couldn’t sleep, not till I know you’re all right.”

Warm affection for your friend burst through your chest. You tried to prop yourself up but nearly immediately you settled back down, your torso aching sorely. “Thank you.”

Chopper checked over your chest, feeling here and there for anything still out of place. “You’ve got two broken ribs, but nothing punctured or damaged.”

“Lucky me,” you laughed, fizzling out to a cough. Chopper patted your shoulder, his brows met.

“Don’t overexert yourself,” he stressed. “I’ll get you some water.” He pattered back over to the door, hummed, and peeked back around. “Uhm, Luffy’s awake too.” You blinked widely, unsure what to say. Chopper simply smiled. “I’ll go get him!”

“Wait, Chop—Ah!” One hand on your side, you squeezed shut your eyes and laid back down slowly. “Bad idea. Bad idea…”

You plopped your head back and stared at the ceiling, straining to feel the way the ship rocked on the waves. Left and right, gravity shifted on the rolling waters, calming your suddenly racing heart. Minutes passed, and another figure appeared in the doorway. You lolled your head to the side. Luffy’s eyes stuck to the floor as he entered, his hands fidgety at his sides. 

Too exhausted to break the silence, you waited, beckoning him closer with a flick of your hand. Luffy only took one step, gaze raising to your own. “I got rid of him—Mister Fike.” 

You nodded, trying so very hard to release the tension building in your shoulders. You didn’t care to know what he meant by that at all. Pursing your lips, you steeled yourself to attempt to sit upright one last time. Luffy jumped toward you, hovering his hands over your struggling form, finally taking your arm and helping to prop you up against the headboard. You murmured a thanks, but Luffy only stared at you, eyes flickering over your face, a thousand thoughts behind those eyes. 

Sighing deeply, you took the bait. “Spit it out, Luffy. What’s wrong?”

He narrowed his eyes like it should’ve been obvious, sucking in a breath and shoving the words out. “You shouldn’t have risked yourself for me.”

A small fire lit in your heart, right where Luffy usually occupied it. You raised a brow in challenge. “But you’re allowed to do the same for me?”

Luffy replied a curt, “Yes.”

You rolled your eyes to that. “Ridiculous. You ask me to fight and when I do, you tell me I shouldn’t. Pick a side, Luffy.”

He plopped himself down on the edge of the bed, face hard as he formulated exactly what he wanted to say in a way that made sense. “I asked you to fight, not get hurt.”

“If the roles were switched, you would’ve done the same.” Your hand found his. “You have done the same. You’re my captain and above that my friend. I regret nothing.”

Luffy stared at how you cupped his hand in both of yours, his eyes drifting to the dark bruising around your midsection. “Just don’t do it again.”

You deflated like that, dropping his hand and shifting away despite how it hurt. He didn’t understand, and you weren’t sure how to get him to. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

Luffy didn’t know what that meant, but he knew he didn’t like it. “Fine. You don’t have to talk to me anymore.” He made to stand when your eyes widened, not expecting him to actually walk away, and you reached out to grab his arm. A grunt slipped past your lips, causing him to whip back around.

“Luffy.” He froze, hearing the difference in how you said his name now, like a plea instead of the usual reprimand. “I had to compromise my values today.”

A brief apology flashed across his face. “I—”

“Even if you hadn’t asked me to,” you cut in sharply. “I would have done nothing different. Don’t ask me not to risk myself for you because it's useless. I’d do it a hundred times over.”

He assessed you carefully, skeptically. Desperately? “Why?”

“Do I need a reason?” You chuckled wryly.

“I do.” You gazed into each of his eyes, the words so far out of reach, buried beneath months of excuses.

“You know why.” He had to. Your eyes implored him to see right through you like he always had before, to see how your heartbeat sounded like his name. You knew Luffy was smarter than anyone gave him credit for, so he had to know you loved him. But… Luffy just stood there, confused as ever, breaking down your hope. “Do I have to spell it out?”

He blinked. “That’d be nice, yeah.”

You gave him a long, hard look, trying to gauge if he was serious (of course he was) and promptly set your jaw. “I… care about you. In ways I didn’t think I could care about someone.” You averted your eyes. “I don’t regret breaking my vow of peace, because I did it to help you. I’d do anything for you. And I…”

Eyes shut tightly, you wondered if that was enough spelling out before he finally got the message and put you out of your misery. The sooner he knew, the sooner he could tell you you’re an idiot and you could both move on like it never happened. You didn’t expect Luffy’s warm, warm hands to take your face so gently, eyes baring into you hotly. 

It was unfair of him to have such pretty eyes. Despite their chesnut-y hue, they reminded you of the sea. Wild, reckless, filled with unabandon. You envied him when he looked like this. Luffy loved with every muscle in his body, unable to hold anything back, and you… you weren’t like that. You held your cards flush to your chest, discomfort chilling your skin with every piece of your heart you gave away.

He smiled at you now; not the bright, beaming ones he shot around willy-nilly. Luffy’s soft smile caught you unawares, drawing you in like a moth to a fervent flame till your lips parted and a tiny sigh left you. His lips curled up, almost teasing as he said, “I know.”

“You know?” you asked, brows met.

“Yep,” he replied, popping the p. “You’re not as sneaky as you think.”

“Oh?” You scoffed. “Really. And what exactly do you know, Captain?” 

Your breath hitched at Luffy’s sudden proximity, his forehead meeting yours in a skin-kiss you only ever read about in your silly romance novels. You squeaked rather embarrassingly, “Luffy?”

Your captain’s smile never faltered as he leaned into your ear, whispering, “I know you like me.”

Eyes blown wide, an awkward laugh erupted out of you, your hands pushing him away. “O-kay. Ha! Real funny, Loof.” His hand pressed right over your heart, only worsening the sporadic and slightly concerning rate of your heartbeat. “L-Loof… Luffy, don’t do that.”

One beat, then two. Luffy’s eyes drifted up to meet your own, his hand dropping to his side. His brows rose just so. “So you don’t like me?”

A firm no rose to the tip of your tongue and fell right off, leaving you to choke on nothing. Luffy looked at you so earnestly it was painful. “I…” You couldn’t say it, no matter how his eyes asked you to. Perhaps there was one thing he asked you couldn’t do. “You need sleep.”

“You need to be honest,” he snipped back. “You know I could’ve handled it. Why did you help me?”

Warmth flooded your cheeks under his gaze. “If you know everything then why be so mean to me, huh?” Again you shoved him off, wincing as your chest muscles pinched. “If you know I love you, then why interrogate me? It’s unfair! You know I can’t say it! I’m not like you! I broke a few ribs saving your ass, so what? I’d do it again! Why the fuck are you laughing?!”

Chest heaving, you sniffed and wiped at your damp cheeks, heartbreaking as all Luffy did was throw his head back and laugh. Crestfallen, your waterline dotted with anguish. “Go—Go away, Luffy.” Is this what he wanted? To humiliate you? Fine. You won’t bother next time. You’d let the next shark-man snap his pretty face off. See if you cared. 

The tears spilled over, Luffy’s smile dwindling down to something barely there. “‘M sorry. You’re just… funny.”

An afflicted laugh tumbled off your lips, hardly believing any of this was real. Luffy’s left hand clasped around yours, tightening when you fought out of his grip, and his right reached to wipe away the tears glittering down your cheeks. Your face scrunched up as you swatted at him, falling apart. “Fuck off.”

“I love you too.” The words seized all the breath left in you, which wasn’t a lot, leaving you to gasp it all back in. 

You shook your head slowly. “What?”

His finger poked your forehead. “You said it first.” Blinking perplexedly, you replayed all that you had spat out, mortification shadowing your face… until Luffy’s own words eclipsed your own.

“You… what?”

“I’m sorry for laughing,” he grinned, making work of drying your face before he sat back on the bed, legs crossed. “And for calling you funny.” He glanced away, fiddled with the bed covers, and snapped his eyes back to you. “Can you say it again?”

You heard your heart in your head, feeling every swipe of his fingers against your skin as he took your hands, chasing away all discomfort surrounding those little words. From the way he smiled, you felt he wouldn’t mind if you didn’t, and something in that sparked a need in you. You sucked in a breath, letting it out as a forceful, “I love you.”

Luffy grinned blissfully, letting out another tiny laugh, kissing the backs of your hands. A hesitant smile rose to your face, ready to meet his, and with your bottom lip between your teeth, you risked scooting over, shyly making him room beside you. Luffy wasted no time in slipping in beside you, careful not to hurt you. Not a word passed between you as his skin flushed against yours. Each touch was tentative, new, yet strangely familiar. He sparked up a conversation like nothing had happened at all, asking about what you’d do with your research when it was all complete, telling you about his whale friend Laboon and how you’d get along. 

Right as your eyes grew fluttery, the morning sun peeking in through the window, Luffy lifted his head from the nook he’d made of your neck, prying you away from sleep. “Yeah?”

“If you’re gonna get hurt for me,” he mumbled, “don’t pass out. You scared the shit outta me.”

You carded your hand through his hair, pushing him back to lie down with a laugh. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@100520s

[unboundprompts]

Greetings! I hope I come to you on a good day.

Could I get some prompts to do with the tope Assassin x Prince?

Assassin x Prince Prompts

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

"You’re supposed to kill me, aren’t you?" the prince asked, his voice steady despite the dagger at his throat. The assassin’s hand faltered. "I was. But now I’m not so sure I want to."

"Why do you keep saving me?" the prince demanded, his tone sharp. The assassin smirked, leaning against the shadows. "Let’s just say I have a soft spot for bad decisions."

"I know you’re an assassin," the prince said, glaring. "And yet, here I am, still breathing." "Don’t tempt me," the assassin replied, but their hand lingered, brushing against his arm.

"You weren’t supposed to see me," the assassin hissed as the prince stepped closer. "And you weren’t supposed to let me live," the prince replied, his gaze unwavering. "We’re both breaking rules tonight."

"Do you know how easy it would be to end you right now?" the assassin murmured, their blade pressed lightly to the prince’s chest. "And yet you haven’t," the prince replied softly, his eyes searching theirs. "I think that terrifies you more than it does me."

"I could scream for the guards," the prince whispered as the assassin stepped closer. "You won’t," they replied, their voice low. "Because you want to know why I’m here as much as I want to tell you."

"You’re the last person I expected to see at the ball," the prince said, recognizing the assassin despite their fine clothes. "And you’re the only one who knows what I’m really here for," the assassin replied, offering their hand with a dangerous smile.

"You think I trust you?" the prince asked, watching the assassin bind his wounds with surprising care. "No," the assassin said simply, their hands steady. "But I don’t need you dead tonight, and that’s the best offer you’ll get."

"You’re risking everything by coming here," the prince said, his words sharp. "So are you," the assassin replied, their gaze lingering on him. "But isn’t that what makes this fun?"

"I don’t kill innocent people," the assassin said, their tone defensive. "And yet you’re here, with a blade meant for me," the prince replied softly. "Maybe we’re both more complicated than we seem."

"The contract on your head is worth a fortune," the assassin said, stepping closer. "Then why haven’t you taken it?" the prince replied, his voice trembling. "Because you’re worth more to me alive."

[nikkento-writes]

You flop down onto the couch still in your apron, stained with splotches of dried up cookie dough and the occasional dusting of flour. Your face is sticky with sweat from stirring, scooping, and standing in the kitchen under the residual heat of the oven, which has been cranking out cookies every fifteen minutes for the past three hours. When you volunteered to bring dessert for your company’s annual holiday potluck, you couldn’t help yourself from being ambitious about it, especially after so many of your coworkers raved on and on about how excited they were to pack extra cookies to take home to their families. Being the people pleaser you are, you just couldn’t help yourself. Hell, you even decided to bake a couple dozen for your husband to bring to work. Now, feet throbbing, head aching, and almost sick of the smell of sugar, you regret being so cocky. You only have yourself to blame, really.

With the last batch finally out and cooling on a wire rack, all that’s left for you to do is pack ten dozen cookies into boxes, clean the mountain of dirty dishes piling in the sink, wipe down the countertop, and…

God, just thinking about it is making your headache worse.

You check the time on your phone: fifteen minutes until midnight. Kento should be arriving soon; he texted you half an hour ago to let you know he’s on his way home from an emergency mission. It’ll be quick, you tell yourself. Just a five minute power nap before you head back into the chaos you created, that’s all you need. The last thing you want to do is leave a mess for your poor, sweet husband to graciously clean up for you, that’s just not right.

~~~

When Nanami arrives home, he’s greeted warmly by the sensational aroma of freshly baked cookies. He’s familiar with this smell, but it hits him with a wave of nostalgia every time. It takes him back to the first year you started dating, on a night when it was raining. The two of you decided to stay in, made pasta for dinner, baked cookies for dessert. He even indulged in the leftover cookie dough, which he normally never does. It probably helped that you fed it to him with your finger, which he gladly licked clean off. Totally worth the risk of salmonella, and it still is.

Sure, it wasn’t anything extravagant, nothing fancy. But it was then that he knew that he could get used to a life like this, especially with you. Simple, comfortable, peaceful.  Everything he’s always wanted.

He spots you snoring on the couch, the aftermath from a night of intense baking evident all over your body. There’s flour on your cheek that you surely haven’t noticed and when you shift against the cushion into a deeper sleep, Nanami can’t help but smile at you. He gently wipes away the residue, caressing your cheek softly, his thumb pressed to it just barely, relishing in the warmth of your soft skin. It’s past midnight, and he knows you’ve been at this for hours, knows you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. He’s told you plenty of times since you made the commitment that it’s too much, hoping you’d rethink and settle for a more realistic number. And of course he’s not surprised when you up the ante and offer to bake for his colleagues as well, despite his pleas not to.

All he can do is chuckle to himself as he walks into the kitchen, popping a cookie into his mouth before sliding on rubber gloves and working on the dangerously teetering stack of dishes in the sink.

He wouldn’t trade this life for anything else.