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awxcoffeexno · 9 months ago

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giving him a reason

logan howlett x human!reader

fic masterlist

summary: you've been on the run from the yakuza and are taking refuge in an old, forgotten family home. logan's been protecting you this whole while because that's just who logan is.

content: i've lifted the setting straight from the wolverine (2013). reader is taking mariko's place--reader is mariko, mariko is reader (no names are taken tho). lovemaking ensues. this fic is super tender and gentle because bitches need to remember how tender and gentle logan really is (i'm bitches). this is porn with no plot lolol. f!reader.

warnings: extremely 18+ content. MDNI. i'll kill u if you do. tender love making, logan goes down on reader like a champ, piv, reader is a virgin but logan's vvvvvvvvv gentle and caring, there's hardly any talking but there is proper consent taking, logan just wants to take care of reader, all is good in the world (at least for now), and logan's lost his healing powers so several mentions of him having bullet wounds.

word count: 3k (oops? might've gotten a teeny tiny bit carried away)

a/n: back at it again, but publishing my first nsfw fic, praying y'all don't hate me. if you don't like this, istg the nsfw version of claw worship is NEVER seeing light of day.

you hear him groan behind the door and the sound makes your heart catch.

you and logan have been on your feet all day, save for the train ride to the small village in nagasaki you've finally reached. running from the yakuza had decidedly not been your plan for the day after your grandfather's funeral but what choice did you have in coming here really?

not to mention... logan saved your life yesterday. several times. he was shot seven times per what the doctor told you.

and he is not healing. your grandfather told you that kuzuri had exceptional healing powers. he'd told you this several times. but logan is not healing at all and it makes you tic. he'd told you that this was the doing of your grandfather's doctor. you cannot imagine the agony he must be in.

you've never done well with seeing or hearing people in pain. yukio always suspected you had some type of emotionally perceptive powers but you don't think so. you just have an inherent need to help and that's that.

carefully, hopefully noiselessly, you slide the door to the bedroom open and though he has his back to the door, his neck is already craning towards you. apparently whatever that doctor lady did to take his healing powers did not dull his hearing.

he's standing shirtless, feet shoulder width apart to keep his balance, skin glistening from a sheen of sweat.

"may i see?" you ask and he takes a long, deep breath.

you stand in silence, at first waiting for him to decide and then watching him turn around, bloodied black shirt in hand and an uneasy vulnerability in his eyes.

his stitches look mostly in place apart from the ones on the wound on his abdomen that have started to bleed. you pad over and reach a steady hand out to touch gingerly around the wound.

logan's jaw tightens but he lets you examine him, his breath warm on your face.

he's burning hot and it would be startling but he'd explained yesterday that it's normal for him. his fever had started when he was 9 and it never broke. so you ignore the unnatural temperature of his skin and step away to find him a cloth and some hot water to clean himself with.

when you return, however, he has clearly already showered and is trying to tie a dark kimono on. you have no idea where he found it and his efforts on keeping it in place force you to bite back a smile.

"let me." you offer, putting the contents of your hand aside to help him.

he immediately pulls his hands away in defeat and you find yourself barely an inch away from him yet again. his breath on you makes your toes curl this time. there's something different about his stance, something... more inviting.

"you need this tied like a proper samurai," you explain as you work on the obi.

there's a moment of silence, the pitter pattering of the rain comforting in the silence. he's thinking, you realise.

"your grandfather called me a ronin." his voice is low. tentative. "a samurai without a master. he said i was destined to live forever... with no reason to live."

that's probably the most you've heard him speak.

you swallow thickly. "was he right?"

"yes," he says, voice laced with such melancholy, it makes you ache.

he has taken seven bullets for you knowing he isn't healing. dodged perhaps a hundred more whilst protecting you.

you remember how he'd stood directly in an open doorway in front of a gun-wielding yakuza man to distract him so that you could run. you'll never forget the sound of those bullets hitting his metal skeleton. like nails on a chalkboard.

he'd put his life on the line for you over and over and over again.

aren't you reason enough then? haven't you become reason enough? after everything you've both been through? together?

you muster up all the courage you can and stuff it into one word. "still?"

your eyes dart up to his for a flash before coming back down to finish up. you pull your hands away but... but after the two dreadfully long days that you both have spent together... after seeing him fight to so furiously to keep you safe the way he did... after everything, you simply cannot bear the thought of stepping back.

neither can he apparently because one of his large, warm paws comes up and cups your cheek, ever so slowly pulling you into a kiss.

something about you has been haunting him since he first looked into your eyes three days ago at your family home in the suburbs of tokyo. especially after you, like a goddamned fool, tried to jump off the roof. he cannot pretend to understand why he's been so taken with you but he knows if he hadn't stopped you from jumping that day, another part of him would've died.

he supposes it's something about the saddest eyes on some of the most beautiful women ever that draw him to them. first kayla, then jean, and now... you. and that's only in the last half-century.

so he kisses you, warm and gentle and desperate to comfort. he kisses you like that until you mewl into his mouth, soft and needy. and then his own need shifts.

still careful to be gentle, his hands slip into your hair to hold the back of your neck to angle you better for himself. he's a tall man and leaning too far down is causing him pain he isn't very used to.

you feel so small in his hold, his hand wrapped around the entirety of the back of your neck, fingers resting under your ears, soothing your tingling skin.

pulling away a little, you run a thumb across his cheek. a small, very small smile spreads across his lips.

"hey." he says, voice low and soft, making you blush.

this should feel wrong. he's the kuzuri your grandfather told you bedtime stories about. the kuzuri whose bravery and determination gave you the strength to also face your nightmares as a little girl. you shouldn't be doing this.

but maybe that's why it feels right. you feel safe around him. truly and wholly safe; something not harada or even your own father has ever made you feel. you've known this kuzuri your whole life and you know he'll protect you.

you don't even bother thinking about how you're engaged to noburo. no, you've heard enough whispers about him sleeping with other women after your engagement to him. it doesn't faze you in the slightest.

so you kiss him again, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your lips to his smile. you feel one of his hands run down your back, coming to a stop right atop the bow of your obi, sending a shiver of thrill down your spine.

you've never felt this excitement before. you and harada had never gotten this far and noburo... well, something about his predator like advances made you want to throw up, so you never even let him this close.

but here you are, in the arms of kuzuri, a literal predator, and you feel... warm. nice.

he looks at you, brows dipping in an ask for consent. when you nod, sucking your lip between your teeth, he yanks the obi open and gently slips your kimono off one shoulder.

your soft, smooth skin makes him bite back a primal growl. he'd hate to scare you off, but standing here in front of him in the glow of the moonlight, you look so edible.

leaning in, making your tummy do a backflip, he presses a hot, open mouthed kiss to your shoulder. it makes you squeak and hold onto him tighter lest your knees betray you.

"logan!" you whisper with a gasp, feeling his teeth sink in and your feet leave the ground as he scoops you into his arms and takes you to the mattress in the middle of the room.

carefully, he kneels onto the floor and sets you down, his movement so light and tender it makes your heart ache.

pressing another kiss to your throat and then your mouth, he moves to place himself onto the mattress, between your legs.

you look at him with such big doe eyes, he cannot help but bring your hands together and press a soft kiss in the middle of your palms.

he then moves to undo your kimono like a wrapped present and take you in fully.

you're beautiful. the moonlight makes you shine, so perfectly womanly and delicate in his gaze.

reverently, he bends forward, right hand wrapping around your left thigh and pulling your legs apart so he can finally claim you with his mouth. his wounds ache for relief, the position actual torture but he barely even notices, so taken he is by your presence.

you push a lithe hand into his hair when you first feel his tongue, tugging as your hips arch up and you cry out his name.

"logan, god–"

he smiles into your mound, not having expected such a reaction this quick, but it only makes sense. you've both been so wound up after everything, you obviously need this.

"i know, princess," he coos as he licks a stripe across your leaking pussy all the way up to your clit.

he brings his lips around the little bundle of nerves and sucks experimentally and he's forced to hold your hips down when you moan out loud again. he was not expecting you to be loud in bed but he sees absolutely no reason to complain.

his tongue works on you expertly, undoing you with every lick and stroke and bite and suck. his fingers squeeze into your sides painfully hard, so badly wanting to mark you as his. he runs his hands down to your thighs and gently pulls them around his neck, sitting up to relieve the pain in his wounds, pulling you up with him.

"lo–"

"i've got you, you're okay," he reassures immediately, making your tummy flip again. he's so so so gentle and it kills you to have seen him as nothing but a brute until you reached the village.

his mouth continues to perform its delicious hot magic on your nerves as your eyes roll back in your head and you unconsciously reach up for one of your bared breasts. he freezes when he notices your movement, distracted like a cat having heard a mouse scampering across a field.

your eyes fly open to finding him watching your movements with a dark and hungry lust.

"don't stop," he urges and though his voice is strained, it isn't unkind. if anything, it almost sounds pleading.

how can you possibly deny him that? especially when he says it in that voice, looking at you with that expression.

so you continue, cupping a handful of your breast and squeezing gently, making yourself moan. he groans into your heat and buries his mouth back against your pussy, eyes never leaving your hands.

he continues his good work, watching you like a hawk as you knead your breasts, biting your lip. carefully, you circle your finger around one nipple as he sucks on your clit again.

you lose yourself to it, the rhythm of playing with yourself, the beautiful way it harmonises with his mouth, it's all so delicious. just like that, you feel yourself winding up, up, up...

"c'mon, princess," he encourages, "let go for me."

and you fall. fast and slow, all at once, right over the edge. you fall and fall and fall, and he continues to do the wicked thing with his tongue around your clit, lapping at your pussy and you give your everything to him.

he works you through it, moaning your name softly, his hands bruising your thighs until you slump in his hold. gently pulling your legs off his shoulders, he sets you down and crawls over you.

his hands come to rest on either side of your head and the warmth is so inviting, the scent of tobacco and his earthy musk filling your senses.

"can you give me another, angel?" he asks, kissing you right on the mouth so that you can taste yourself on his tongue; heaven, the mix of his need and your release tastes like heaven.

you shake your head no, too overstimulated but he's already working his way down to your breasts, leaving wet, hot kisses in his wake. and when he gets to one nipple and sucks it into his mouth with a soft groan, it sparks the fire right back up in your core.

"watching you play with yourself..." he murmurs, trailing off as he licks a flat stripe up the valley of your breasts before looking up at you.

the look in his eyes and his unrelenting mouth make you whine. "logan... need you."

that makes him smirk. how quickly he's worked you out.

"yeah? don't worry, babygirl," and he's spreading your legs apart again, "i'll take care of you."

he pulls the kimono off himself so quickly, you suspect it might have something to do with the claws that retract into his hand. you didn't even realise when he took them out.

he's... glorious. every muscle in his body is taut and stretched across his body like a work of art. his tan skin is dusted with hair so fine it makes your mouth water.

your eyes cross his pecs, his wounds, his bruises, lower and lower until... fuck. he's... big. big and so red, surely it must be painful.

he brings a hand up to your face and you think he's going to cover your mouth but he simply says, "lick."

you oblige shyly, savouring the salt of his skin. he pulls it away, spitting and then wrapping his surprisingly long and thick fingers around his cock. he runs it up and down the length, watching you with such intensity, it makes you blush as he positions himself in front of your opening and you bite your lip, looking up as he crowds you again.

you feel him push into you and within seconds, he's already stretching you open so wide it makes you grab the pillow behind your head in desperation.

he stills, gauging you. he knows this feeling. he's felt it in other women before; the squeezing of walls so tight there could only be one explanation. you're a virgin. shit, he needs to be careful.

rubbing your thighs with both hands, he gently and carefully pushes in just a little bit more.

"never done this before?" he asks, leaning down to press the softest kiss to your lips.

of course he's right. you have no idea how he knows but it makes you redden that he's caught onto your inexperience. are you making it that obvious? oh god, are you not making this good for him?!

immediately noticing your agitation, he pulls all the way out and kisses you again.

"easy... easy," he says, stroking your hair away from your face. "just gotta relax."

his voice is so even, so warm and soothing, that you cannot help but nod.

"good girl," he smiles encouragingly, once again positioning himself at your entrance.

he pushes in again and this time it's easier. you aren't quite so wound up and he slides in smoother because he's already made you adequately wet. still, he goes slowly, making sure it is good for you.

until you realise he's going too slow.

"lo–" you gasp, voice more a squeak than you'd like. "more– need more, please..."

around anyone else you'd feel pathetic. begging for something so filthy, so raw. but with logan, it's so comfortable. knowing he'll give you anything you ask for, even if you've known each other only half a week.

so he pushes himself completely into you, and he's so fucking big, so fucking much inside you as he whispers words of encouragement into your ears, kissing and biting at your neck. the ache of the stretching almost immediately gives way to a sharp pleasure that shoots through you straight from his tip and into every last nerve in your body.

it makes you wrap both hands around him, needing so desperately to be as close to him as possible.

you initiate the kiss this time as he starts moving in you. you slip your tongue into his mouth, sliding it against his, making him groan. the sound is so delicious, you roll your hips to cause it again. his hands grasp your waist, steading you, moaning your name around your tongue.

one of his hands comes up to grab the back of your neck again, taking charge of the kiss as he starts thrusting into you with more vigour.

you cannot imagine a better feeling than being right here. being held by him, being kissed by him, and being filled by him.

tentatively, you squeeze around him, realising you're reaching another orgasm quickly. he growls into your mouth at that, picking up further speed. it makes your hips buck and you're skin feel like it's on fire.

"logan, i'm... i'm..."

"me too, angel," he grunts.

and with one final thrust he presses all the way intp you, making you cry out as you come undone again. he snarls your name, a man possessed, the squeezing and fluttering of your walls pushing him over his own edge.

he fills you up, forehead coming down to rest against yours. he pants softly, never having felt tired like this before. but he realises... he doesnt mind it so much, not when he's tired because he got to make love to you.

you kiss him sweetly, breaking him out of his thoughts and he smiles at you.

"so beautiful," he murmurs, pulling out of you and lying down next to you.

he tugs you onto his chest and presses a kiss into your hair.

"logan?" you say, so spent your eyes are already drooping.

"hmm?"

"still?" you say and he realises you're repeating his question from earlier.

he hugs you tightly at that, wrapping his arms around you, warm and possessive.

"no. i don't think so."

wrote this at 6 in the morning before work so if there's errors, it's not my fault :))))

ik everyone hates the 2013 movie but i rewatched it recently and i remembered every last line. fuck me it's soooooo good.

really hope u like it tho.

love, d <3

retroactively tagging @techwrecker for being a cutie in the comments in all my other fics 🙂‍↔️

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfiction #logan howlett xmen #xmen #xmen fanfiction #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut #logan x reader smut #wolverine x reader smut #logan x mariko

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miniy00ng1 · 9 months ago

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Home

Five Hargreeves x Female!Reader

wc: 1189

warnings: swearing, lila likes five (ew), lmk if i missed anything!

find my masterlist here

hiiii lovelies! it felt like i wrote more than i actually did, butttt whatever. please ignore any grammar errors and i hope everyone enjoys! thank you <3

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

He dreams of you every night. Thinks about you during his every waking moment. He longs to see your beautiful face again. To hold you tight in his arms and never let you go.

Your relationship with Five is one he could only dream of having. He met you during the apocalypse. You were severely injured and stuck under rubble but, you were alive when he stumbled across you.

Five had nursed you back to health and in return you provided him company for what would have been 45 very lonely years. During that time, you and Five had fallen in love and had married.

Since arriving in the new timeline 6 years ago, you and Five had started to build a normal life together, just like Five had wished for. But now he’s found himself stuck in a neverending hellscape with the last person he’d ever want to be stuck with.

Six years had gone by since he last saw you and all of them were agony. Five tried to find a way back to you and vowed he wouldn’t stop trying until you were back in his arms. There were times where he wasn’t sure he would ever see you again and it broke his heart–he would never admit this to anyone.

“I cannot stand to eat another subway rat.” Lila says, scrunching her nose up in disgust. The pair were sat on the floor of the station cooking yet another rodent. “Maybe…we could rest up for a bit at the greenhouse we found the other day? The place wasn’t too bad.” Lila glances at Five with a hopeful look in her eyes. Five ponders the idea, he wouldn’t mind a soft bed to sleep in and definitely wouldn’t miss getting shot at. He nods at Lila, “Only for a couple of days.”

A few days had turned into weeks which turned into months. And soon enough the pair had been there for three months. The greenhouse and surrounding area had provided a sufficient source of living and was considerably more comfortable than the subway station floor.

Five was watering the strawberries in the greenhouse when he felt something hit his back. He could hear Lila giggle and felt another thud, “Quit it Lila, you’re wasting produce. We’re not going to have enough for the winter if you keep throwing them at me.” Lila continued to toss strawberries as she approached Five, “Oh please, we’ll have plenty and we aren’t staying tha–”

Lila tripped over her feet causing Five to drop his watering can and catch her. The two were face to face, he could feel Lila’s breath and her eyes staring at his lips. He quickly pushed Lila to her feet and distanced himself from her. “Look Lila, I know we’ve been here a long time and you’re not happy with my brother but I love Y/N. And I just want to get back to her.” Five was never the kindest man but in that moment he had hoped he let her down gently.

Lila nodded quickly, tucking her lips as her eyes welled with tears, “No, yeah, I get it. I’m sorry. It’s just–what if we never get home?” Five shook his head, “That’s not happening. I’m never going to stop until I get us home.”

Five left the greenhouse to give Lila some space. In the meantime, he returned to the subway station and decided to take a ride to clear his head. As he sat on the grimey seat he tried to think about how you might try to decipher the station–you were always just as smart as he was, helping solve equations in the apocalypse. You had even told him his calculations were off but he would never listen, he smiled to himself thinking about you.

The train let out a ding signifying he had reached the next stop. As the doors opened he heard the sound of footsteps fading. What the hell? he thought to himself. He shot out of his chair with urgency, following the direction of the footsteps and calling out for the mystery person to stop.

Five came to a halt, his eyes widening at the bright sign and the warm presence of a restaurant. If he wasn’t confused before, he sure as hell was now. Five neared the door with caution, but as he entered the deli he was awestruck. He was surrounded by himself, some workers and some patrons of the deli.

“Hey, you! Yeah, you! Come sit with me” A voice called out, his voice, but he wasn’t speaking. He glanced around to see who was calling for him when he saw himself in a booth waving him over. Five approached the table and slid into his seat.

“So you’ve made it.” Booth Five says enthusiastically. Five looks at himself quizzically, raising an eyebrow he asks, “And where exactly are we?” “It’s where we all come when we’ve given up.” “Given up?” Five questions. “I haven’t given up. I need to get home to Y/N.” Murmurs erupt at the sound of your name. Many surrounding Fives sigh or give a sad smile.

“We here don’t have our version of your Y/N anymore. We lost everyone, including her. As soon as we did, majority of us gave up trying to save the world.” Booth Five states, a sad gleam in his eyes. “I’ve saved the world three times already. I don’t plan on doing it again anytime soon. I just want to get home to her. So do me a favor and tell me how to get home.”

Booth Five gives a call out to Waiter Five. Waiter Five brings over a notebook and hands it to Five. As Five inspects the journal, his eyes widen. “Holy shit…it’s a cipher. This is how I get back.” Five immediately gets up. As he leaves Booth Five calls out,

“We’ll see you soon.”

Upon returning to the greenhouse Five starts to gather everything in preparation to make his return home. “Lila!” He calls out, “Lila! Where are you? Get ready to leave, we’re going home!” Lila bursts through the door looking disheveled.

“You–You’re not fucking with me are you? Because if you are, I will kill you.” Five shakes his head and Lila squeals running over to hug Five. “Let’s go home.”

The pair arrives at Diego and Lila’s house. Lila excitedly runs up to the door and throws it open. As she disappears into the house Five begins to approach. As he gets closer, he can hear you giggle as Lila envelops you in a bear hug.

Lila eventually lets you go and that’s when you notice Five’s presence at the entryway. You make your way over to him with your beautiful smile. You throw your hands around his neck and pull him down slightly as he is a couple inches taller than you. Five snakes his hands around your waist, face in your hair as he breathes you in.

You go to pull away but Five’s grip tightens. You let out a laugh, “Someone must’ve missed me.” “You have no idea” He whispers.

#five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x female!reader #number five #five hargreeves #five hargreeves imagine #the umbrella academy #tua

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epelletea · 20 days ago

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♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Showering with Pure Vanilla & Stardust !

A/n: I have brainrot of these two and it can only go up from here. Also my god there is like 0 Stardust cookie content. Gang what the flip!!!

Content Warnings : Nsfw + Suggestive Content near ends of both parts! Might be OOC for Stardust, but we live we love we lie 🙏💗

Pure Vanilla

When you bring up to him, he’s actually quite touch that you even ask to do something that’s so intimate and close with him.

For the first time, he’s quite bashful. He even looks away when you strip as if he hasn’t seen you naked before plenty of times. He’s even shy to strip in front of you.

Once in the shower together, he relishes in the close proximity. It’s quite nice. He helps you wash your body and even washes your hair if you are cleaning it that day.

He’s so red when you do the same to him. Your hands roaming his body as you wash him. He can’t help but be extremely flustered.

After the shower, he’s the first to exit to help you wrap into nice fluffy towel. Expect nice cuddles afterwards!

Now after the few other times, he’s much more comfortable now. He doesn’t look away anymore and isn’t as flustered. He sees it as a normal couple activity now.

If you’re in a mood and want to get intimate with him all you have to do is start kissing on him and he’ll get the memo.

You can lead or not. It’s really up to how you’re feeling.

If he’s leading, he’s very sensual and slow with you. Kissing your neck softly , as his hands reach to your lower regions. His fingers pumping in and out of you , until you cum all over his fingers. That’s when he’ll insert himself , his face snuggled into your neck as his soft moans fill your ears. Praising you for taking him so well. He goes at a slow pace , simply enjoying the feeling of being inside you until he can’t take the slowness anymore. He’ll thrust faster and messier until he finally cums.

He’ll kiss your forehead and laugh between ragged breaths.

“Looks like we’re gonna need to clean up again.”

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

Stardust

He’s actually the one that asked. He suggested the idea after looking up ways to be more intimate with your partner. He’s been in the stars for the majority of his life , can you blame him for not having a lot of knowledge on it.

He strips first with ease but his eyes cannot leave you as you strip as well next to him. You’re just so mesmerizing to him, everything you do. When you enter the shower together. He’s pretty awkward first. I won’t lie, you both kinda battle for the correct water temperature but soon agreed on something.

You suggest to help him wash up. He agrees but his breath keeps hitching in his throat every-time you touch him especially when your hands even roam lower and close down there.

He tilts his head at you when you look shock to see his hair wet. Yes it’s quite made out of magic and cosmos but it’s still hair and possible to get wet. Did you think it would go out or that something will happen?

He would immediately start assisting with helping you wash up after you finish with him. He’s very gentle almost as if you are very delicate item. He wants to make sure you are comfortable and most certainly cleaned.

Once you two , get out. He comically does the animal thing where they shake the water out of their fur, I guess in this case feathers. He doesn’t do it anymore after the glare you gave him. He wraps a towel around you and himself. The cuddle sesh was divine as he coddle up next you with his warmth.

Showering together him becomes a basic norm. To the point that if you are showering alone, there’s a guaranteed chance he’ll appear to join you. He cannot get enough of you at all.

He’s most definitely the one that usually initiates to be more intimate. His hands roaming over your body as he pulls you close to him , his cock poking behind you. His soft “Please..” and whimpers into your ear.

Once you given him consent, he already has you hoisted up against the shower wall. Messily yet greedily making out with you. His claws digging into your hips. He’s already lined himself up as he buries his cock into you. A hiss escaping his lips feeling you tighten around him. His thrusts are slow at first so you can adjust until he picks them up and he practically fucking you against the wall with your hands clawing at his back. He bites into your neck when he finishes , keeping himself inside just for a little bit longer loving the feeling of filling you up.

He officially lets go and cleans you up once more. When you two get out he carries you off into the bedroom since he accidentally took ur walk ability.. (again actually) to cuddle and rest afterwards.

“I got carried away again.. sorry..”

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

#cookie run x reader #cookie run fandom #cookie run headcanons #cookie run kingdom #cookierun #pure vanilla cookie #pure vanilla x you #pure vanilla x reader #pure vanilla crk #stardust cookie #headcanons #fanfic

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justcressida · 2 years ago

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ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- DEAR VİLLAİNESS

"I coped with living in that damn house for so long, then got accepted to a prestigious college, and I had gotten my own home. Even if it was cramped and dirty, I could be completely at rest in it. I had finally escaped those bastards. So why?! It's not even Normal Mode. At this rate, this is no better than before…!"

Record Of Ragnarok X Penelope Eckhart!Reader

POSEİDON

Even among all these gods, Poseidon's hatred and arrogance for humans was evident.

Yet the only reason for his interest in this human woman was her incredible will to live.

Never before had he seen a mortal act so frankly, so boldly towards a God.

It caught his attention. The woman was beautiful, more beautiful than a Goddess could ever be. She was daring. It was easy to get lost in his catlike squinting eyes and be caught in the cold but firm aura of the mortal.

"Your daring and indiscretion have limits, mortal. What do you think you are? What do you trust to utter such bold words to a god?"

The woman squinted her eyes, shining with anger. "Why should there be a limit to my audacity? What have you got to set boundaries with me? First you create a lineage and then you send them disasters and hardships. Then when you get bored, 'Let's destroy humanity!' Are you making a joke that isn't funny to yourself? Why should I obey? Why should I be good? Whose wrong is right based on? How can one expect creation to be pure when there is evil in the heart of God?"

A deep silence reigned throughout the arena, while all the immortals who had been mocking her until a few seconds ago, in silence and tension, turned their eyes to the Tyrant of the Seas and then to this noble woman.

He couldn't help but was impressed. Although what he really needed to do was slit her throat with his trident and punish her disrespect, a wild instinct whispered that he shouldn't punish her in this way. Punish in a different way.

The Tyrant of the Seas' lips curved slightly as the tense wait continued. "Will you stand by what you say, mortal? If you kneel right now and apologize and beg, I won't punish you." Although his tone was calm, his gaze made everyone shudder.

"Y/N! Apologize!" As Reynold screamed, Derrick grabbed his arms and pulled him back. As the beautiful woman's eyes turned towards that direction, her eyes narrowed like a cat.

"It's not worth it, Reynold." Derrick's cold words echoed throughout the arena. The woman smiled sarcastically, after all she got used to it. It didn't hurt anymore.

"I'd rather die." Their eyes met. It was like the gaze of the sky and the ocean.

"You asked for it, mortal."

Thus began your life in prison. It was more of a fait accompli than a mistreatment.

Every day you were dressed like a doll and did whatever Poseidon wanted.

You could have dinner with him if he wanted.

If he wanted, you would go to the meeting of the Gods with him.

Everything was his order, if he didn't want it, you couldn't even breathe.

You'd still rather get beaten.

Yet all you gave in regards to your feelings was your hatred of the open ocean.

"Don't make me angry and come here mortal."

"I don't want."

"I didn't ask if you wanted it. Come with me, if you're afraid I'll keep it."

"No way. I won't." Poseidon looked at the beautiful mortal as the woman shrugged stubbornly.

"It's pointless mortal that you hate the ocean so much." He didn't want to ask directly why.

She looked thoughtfully into the water as she shrugged.

"Tell me the reason for this hatred of the ocean, mortal."

"Water plays with you, water imprisons you, water makes you crazy, and the insane cannot live in society. The water overflows."

Poseidon wanted to deny it, but mortal was right. That's how he summed up his thousands of years of life.

"Let's go inside, mortal. Don't be cold."

The Tyrant of the Seas sighs as he walks ashore.

Perhaps he could leave the mortal a little to himself.

Of course he wasn't forgiven.

For now, at least, he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold back.

"You are so ugly."

"You're being disrespectful again, mortal.

"But are you ugly?"

"Shut up and get in, damn mortal."

#ror x reader #snv x reader #poseidon x reader #ror poseidon #snv poseidon #ror poseidon x reader #snv poseidon x reader #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader

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atlabeth · 2 years ago

Text

bad luck - nikolai lantsov

summary: you have little hope after being captured by slavers in the depths of ravka. but then your ship is commandeered, and you get a little more than you bargained for with your privateer savior.

a/n: sorry that it has been a while since ive posted anything on here and sorry about my neglect for my other series but i am a nikolai lover first a writer second and a person third!!! apparently i cannot write a normal length one shot with this man but i hope you enjoy

wc: 5.3k

warning(s): fem!reader, sturmhond!nikolai, reader is captured by slavers but there is no detail, mentions of fighting and killing, mentions of arranged marriages, reader is highkey annoyed by sturmhond lmao, but a fluffy (and lowkey steamy) ending

At first, you’d thought you were hallucinating.

You couldn’t remember the last time your captors had given you, given anyone in the brig, water, and the beginning of a spiral into insanity wouldn’t have exactly surprised you.

Explosions, gunshots, the screams of dying men. You’d imagined the entire crew dropping dead many times so it wasn’t a shock that this was where your madness would begin. You just closed your eyes, tried to pretend you weren’t in chains, and reveled in the sound.

And then the door to the brig was broken down, and your eyes shot open. You moved to the front of your cell, gripping the cold bars as you looked to see what sort of new danger had been brought upon you.

Instead, you were met with a cocky-looking man—though he hardly appeared old enough to be called a man—a pistol in his relaxed grip and another hanging by his side. His bright teal frock coat didn’t belong in a dingy place such as this.

“Hello, all,” he said pleasantly. “I am happy to say this ship has been commandeered.”

Your grip slackened. “What?”

Your question was drowned out by immediate rioting by all the other prisoners, and the man glanced at the woman by his side. She took one of her two axes from its place at her hip and walked over to your cell. Her golden eyes gleamed, and her axe moved in a barely visible flash. She’d chopped the lock clean off, and the cell door creaked open. The whole brig had fallen silent.

You took another step back, eyes still wide. The man walked up next to her, peering inside your cell at all the prisoners bunched in together, but when his eyes met yours, they widened. His entire body went rigid for a moment, so imperceptible that you thought you’d imagined it when he looked away.

“I have no desire to keep you all here against your will,” he said. “Call me your liberator, call me your savior, call me a captain who just hates slavers—it doesn’t matter to me right now. The only thing that matters to me right now is that this is my ship.”

“Are we free?” you asked.

Again, the captain’s expression changed ever so slightly when he looked at you—this time, you knew you hadn’t imagined it.

“Yes,” he said, the corner of his mouth turning up in a slight smile. “You’re free.”

You couldn’t help but smile yourself, and the chains around your wrists felt lighter knowing they would be off soon.

The captain cleared his throat as he turned away, looking at the rest of the prisoners. “Now, do any of you know where they keep the keys on this ship? If we can’t find them, Tamar here will use those handy axes on your shackles.”

Someone spoke up and the captain sent one of his men off to retrieve them, then he looked at the golden-eyed woman. Shu, no doubt. “Tamar, get the rest of these cells open then bring them above deck. I’d like to make a speech.”

She nodded and got to work. Soon enough, you were breathing in salty air and reveling in the wind on your face. You’d been below deck for far too long, and the feeling of sunlight on your skin was glorious. You allowed yourself a moment to close your eyes and just enjoy it. Your mind blocked out the spilled blood and dead bodies of the crew that you had to walk through. You wouldn’t shed any tears for them, but you weren’t accustomed to the brutality that your parents sheltered you from.

“I’d like to introduce myself to you all.” You opened your eyes and the captain was speaking, standing in front of the orderly line you’d all formed. The Shu woman from before—Tamar, he called her—stood at his left, and a similarly golden-eyed man had just joined them. Between his size and her axes, you were quite thankful they were—at least for now—on your side.

“You can call me Sturmhond,” he said. “Perhaps you’ve heard of me, perhaps you haven’t. I don’t particularly care. As you likely saw, each and every man and woman previously aboard this ship is dead, in case you doubted my promises to your freedom. That is what I care about.”

The thought would have normally made bile rise in your throat. You may not have been accustomed, but you liked to believe you weren’t wholly naive.

“But I want to be clear,” the captain said, “this is not a rescue. This is an opportunity.”

Sturmhond gestured with his head and a woman stepped forward, lithe with wispy hair divided into two braids. She moved her hands apart and concentrated, and with a few concise movements, the cuffs around your wrists broke apart and fell to the ground. Your eyes widened, and the exacerbated clatter made you glance down the line, same as some of the others—she removed everyone’s shackles at once.

Sturmhond kept company with Grisha. You knew the captain was Ravkan from his accent, but any connection to the Grand Palace and the King sent unease trickling down your spine. The chances were small, what with how much time Grisha spent in the Little Palace—Saints, the Fabrikator might not even be Ravkan—but there was still a chance. The last thing you needed was to be recognized.

“We didn’t really need the keys,” Sturmhond said with a boyish smile. Again, you were struck by how out of place he looked—he should have been in university, not heading operations like this. “I just wanted to make you all squirm a little. Tamar’s axes are quite terrifying.”

“Who says we want any part of your opportunities?” asked a man from down the line.

“Because I’m allowing you the choice,” the captain said. “Those of you who wish to be free of the sea and her constraints, we are by the Zemeni border. You will be dropped at the nearest harbor, and your fate will be back in your control.”

There were grumblings throughout your fellow prisoners and you glanced at them. It was a better offer than any of you would have gotten, a chance for freedom that you thought was long past you. Novyi Zem had no grief with Ravka, so you would be safe enough there. You could get a job working the fields or in a factory, and once you had enough you could book passage back to Ravka. You could find your family again.

Your throat tightened. You ran from them—that was why you were here in the first place. Maybe it would be better to try and start a new life all together, nameless in Novyi Zem. No one would ask questions, you were sure of it. You would be in control of your fate again.

And then the captain got a glint in his eye. Your spine straightened almost on instinct.

“As for those of you who want revenge,” he tilted his head, “you can earn a place in my crew.”

“Why would we work for you?” a woman from across the brig shouted. “We’ve got our freedom!”

“Because there is little more satisfying than causing the destruction of those who tried to destroy you,” Sturmhond said. “And because the sea is rather lovely when you’re not a captive.”

“That is my opportunity to you all.” He clasped his hands together, the wind ruffling his red hair. “A chance to help those like you, and put slavers at the bottom of the ocean where they belong.”

“Why would we want to work with pirates?” you spoke up. “We have lives to get back to. And half of us aren’t fighters.”

You didn’t know what it was about you that made Sturmhond’s expression shift just so each time he looked at you, but it was beginning to irk you.

“Privateer, actually,” he corrected. His voice was annoyingly smooth, and his unyielding confidence even more irritating. “As I said, it’s your choice. And it will take us three days to reach Novyi Zem, so you will have time to decide.”

You huffed a laugh, but decided to stay silent. You’d dealt with too many men like him, but it wasn’t a bother—in three days, you would be back in the same position you were in before your bad luck struck.

“Now,” the captain said with an equally smooth smile, folding his hands behind his back, “any questions?”

Nobody spoke up. Whether it was out of fear or simple ambivalence you didn’t know, but you didn’t feel like getting on the captain’s bad side. You planned to keep your head down for three days and figure it all out in Novyi Zem.

“Wonderful. We’ll divide our forces between this ship and the Volkvolny,” he said. “Any of you who wish to transfer ships will be allowed.” His lip curled as he looked around the dingy conditions of the slaver ship. “I doubt you want to spend much more time on board this wreck.”

“Some of my crew will get you situated as we prepare to set sail,” Sturmhond continued. “If you find you have any burning questions later, save them or direct them to Tolya here.” He gestured to the Shu man as tall as a tree standing by him, and he only looked slightly irritated to be given up like that.

“I suppose the only thing left to do is officially welcome you aboard.” Sturmhond swept an arm through the air. “I hope you’ve all earned your sea legs.”

He walked off, Tolya and Tamar following him. They must’ve been his first mates—you were immensely glad they weren’t against you, what with his size and her axes.

But as he did, you couldn’t help but stare. The strangest feeling had come over you during his speech, one that was exacerbated every time he passed the slightest glance at you, every time his expression changed. He was just… unnatural. Unsettling.

You allowed yourself a deep breath and shook your head, trying to focus on the crewmember that was speaking to you all. You didn’t care if he was unnatural or unsettling—you would be gone in three days.

All you had to do was keep your head down.

Sleep wasn’t easy after the day you’d had, but your tired limbs won out after an hour or so of staring at the ceiling. The cot you’d been assigned wasn’t much for comfort, but it might as well have been the plushest mattress you’d ever felt after what you’d been sleeping on before.

You slowly opened your eyes, your grogginess fighting against you at every step, because you had the dimmest feeling that something was wrong. When you saw golden eyes above you, you nearly screamed.

You thankfully held it in, but you could feel your heart hammering in your chest.

“What are you doing here?” you whispered.

“Sturmhond wishes to speak to you,” Tamar said, wholly unfazed as if she did this all the time. She probably did.

“Why?”

“My job isn’t to ask questions,” Tamar said. She left it at that, and you sighed as you pulled yourself out of the hammock. You followed her, squinting in an attempt not to bump into anything in the darkness. The Volkvolny wasn’t familiar to you yet, but it was easier once you were above deck. You rubbed the grogginess out of your eyes when she opened the door to the captain’s quarters for you.

She didn’t follow you in, and you didn’t know whether it was a relief or not.

“Ah. You’re here.” Sturmhond turned around from a cabinet, holding a bottle of kvas, a slight smile on his lips. “Drink?”

“You didn’t just invite me here for a nightcap,” you said placidly, “did you?”

“Of course not,” he said. “I thought it would remind you of home.”

You frowned. “You’re Ravkan. Who’s to say I am too?”

“How did you know I was Ravkan?”

“Your accent.”

“Then how do you think I knew you were Ravkan?”

“Maybe I will need a drink,” you said bitterly. “It’s the only way I think I can keep dealing with you.”

Sturmhond sighed as he poured a fair amount into two cups. “Such harsh words for a noble girl. Quite a stroke of bad luck for the daughter of a duke to end up on a slaver’s ship.”

“Who’s to say I’m the daughter of a duke?” you asked.

He arched an eyebrow. “Do you really want to keep playing this game?”

You crossed your arms in response, and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“An accent gives quite a bit away,” Sturmhond said. “It’s also obvious to anyone that looks at you—and I assume you have quite a few admirers. You speak Ravkan like a princess, like you were taught in schools rather than the streets. You have a gleam in your eye that says you still have hope. And,” he looked you up and down, “you carry yourself with confidence despite your position. Not the attitude of a girl on the other side of the ditch.”

Your lip curled. “How astute of you.”

“Thank you,” he said with a smile.

“Born and raised in Os Alta,” you acquiesced. You offered a thin smile of your own back. “And I suppose you’re correct. Bad luck seems to follow me as of late.”

“You wound me,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest. “Are you claiming that my rescuing you is a continuation of your bad luck?”

“I thought you said this wasn’t a rescue, captain.”

“Sturmhond,” he said.

Your lips twitched in a momentary smile. “I thought you said this wasn’t a rescue, Sturmhond.”

“It isn’t,” he agreed, taking a sip of kvas, “it’s an opportunity. I’m just curious of what drove your choice.”

You crossed your arms. “Strange of a pirate to be so curious about a prisoner.”

“Privateer,” Sturmhond corrected, “and you’re no longer a prisoner.”

“My point still stands,” you said wryly.

“Is it wrong of me to be curious?” he asked.

“It’s pointless,” you said. “And if you’re done with your little interrogation, I’d like to get back to sleep.”

“I’m not here to be your enemy.” He sat up, taking another sip of his drink. “Surely you understand that.”

“I understand it perfectly well,” you said. “I just don’t see why you care.”

“Fine,” he amended, “I’ll let you be. Just one more question.” Sturmhond sat up in his chair, leaning forward as he looked you straight in the eye. His were the strangest shade of green. “Why did you run?”

You actually recoiled at his question, your reflex winning over any desire to hold back your emotions. “Excuse me?”

He didn’t waver. “I thought my question was quite clear.”

You picked up the cup he’d poured for you and threw it back. The kvas burned your throat—your tolerance never was all that—but it didn’t make much difference with the scowl already on your face.

“You don’t get to ask me questions, pirate.”

“Privateer,” you heard him correct, and it only made you slam the door harder on your way out.

Three days of keeping your head down should have been easy. Sturmhond, however, appeared to have a different agenda.

He ignored you for the entire next day, but that night, Tamar was waiting for you before you could even get to the barracks.

“Seriously?” you asked. “Did he not get my message clearly enough last night?”

She shrugged. “He just asked to see you again. I don’t know why.”

You sighed and made an offhanded gesture. “Fine. Let’s go.”

You opened the door yourself this time when she got you there, not even bothering to shut it as you stared at Sturmhond.

“What are you playing at?” you demanded.

“Good evening to you as well,” he said. “How did you sleep?”

“What are you playing at,” you repeated flatly.

“I’m not playing at anything,” he said. “Is it a crime to enjoy your company?”

Your jaw ticked, and your hands clenched into fists. “If you’re after what I—”

“I’m not after anything,” he assured with a frown, “and certainly not what you’re thinking.”

His interruption peeved you, but you found that you actually believed him. The tension eased from your shoulders ever so slightly.

“…Good,” you said after a moment. “But I still don’t understand the need for these meetings. I plan to be gone by tomorrow.”

“Because I know you,” he said. “You may not know me, but I consider myself generally knowledgeable of Ravka and its upper class.”

“What,” you said wryly, “do you want my advice on how best to rob them?”

“Of course not,” Sturmhond said. “I wouldn’t need your advice for that.”

You huffed a laugh. “So what do you want?”

“I’ve been at sea for quite some time,” he said, “and you’ve only just left Ravka. I’d very much appreciate it if you could share some of your insider knowledge on the Lantsovs.”

“You assume I have any.”

“I assume that the woman who used to be Nikolai Lantsov’s betrothed would have some,” Sturmhond replied smoothly.

Your heart stuttered for a beat at the mention of Nikolai. Any doubt Sturmhond might have had over his claim had to have dissolved with your expression.

He arched an eyebrow. “Well?”

You allowed yourself a deep breath before you finally took the seat across from him.

“Fine,” you said. “You’ve got me. I’m the daughter of a Ravkan duke and I used to be engaged to a Lantsov prince. Did you just want to prove your knowledge?”

“Not at all.” Sturmhond wisely poured an additional glass—brandy rather than kvas, thankfully. You needed something stronger if you were to deal with this. “I want your knowledge.”

“My being betrothed to Nikolai is why I don’t know as much as you think,” you said. You downed half the glass at once and your chest burned less than the memory. “Nikolai and I were to be wed when we were of age, yes, but he disappeared before I got the chance.”

“Disappeared?”

You nodded. “He was meant to come back after his service so we could prepare for the wedding. Instead,” your lips curled in a disdainful smile, “he up and left. The king broke off our engagement and I haven’t heard a word from Nikolai since.”

Sturmhond frowned. “My deepest apologies.”

You shrugged. “He made his choice. Apparently he’s in Ketterdam studying, but I very much doubt that. He was never good at sitting still. But wherever he is, I hope he’s still alive.” You huffed a laugh. “I cannot imagine Vasily taking the throne.”

“I’m sure he is still alive,” Sturmhond said. “And I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten you.”

“How kind of you,” you said dryly.

He was silent for a long moment before he spoke again. “You say you plan to be gone by tomorrow. Does your plan include returning to Ravka?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I ran from my family and my fate, and that’s why I ended up here. I don’t think I can go back just yet.”

“And what fate did you run from?” Sturmhond asked.

“A marriage I didn’t want,” you said plainly.

“As opposed to the marriage you did want.”

“Are we done here?” you asked. “Because I don’t think you need to know more of my personal life.”

Sturmhond smiled after a moment and nodded. “Yes. But I’d like to see you one more time tomorrow, before we officially part ways.”

“You’re not going to change my mind,” you said.

“And I don’t intend to. There’s just one last thing I wish to share with you.”

“And you can’t do that now?” you asked wryly.

“Patience is a virtue, darling.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He held up his hands. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

“You’re very strange for a pirate,” you said.

“I’m quite normal for a privateer,” Sturmhond said.

You huffed a laugh and shook your head as you stood. “Enjoy the rest of your night, privateer.”

You felt his eyes on you as you left, and now more than ever you couldn’t shake that feeling. You looked at Tamar as you shut the door.

“How long have you been part of his crew?”

“A few years,” she said.

“Do you ever get used to him?”

Her lips quirked into a smile. “No.”

You sighed as the two of you started to walk. “What a surprise.”

You were at Sturmhond’s door the next afternoon, Tamar by your side. She hadn’t come to deliver you, but on your way there she told you she would be joining you. You certainly weren’t going to refuse her.

As usual, you didn’t bother to knock. As usual, Sturmhond was sitting at his desk. Tamar followed you in and shut the door, not as usual. Your brows knit together slightly.

“You actually came,” he said.

“Consider me intrigued,” you said. “I couldn’t just walk off and never know what you wanted to ‘share with me’.”

The corner of his mouth curled up into an achingly familiar smile. “You’re just as fiery as I remember.”

“We just met,” you said dryly.

“On the contrary.” Sturmhond sat up, and he removed his jacket. A metal pin glinted on his vest, a crowned double eagle. The Lantsov coat of arms. Your frown deepened. “You spent the other day describing our lost time together.”

“I’m…” you blinked and shook your head. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m Nikolai Lantsov,” he said. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make me say all my titles, though.”

For a moment, you just stared at him. And then you laughed in complete disbelief.

“Is that what this is? You consider me a fool?”

“On the contrary,” he repeated. “It is because of your intelligence that I deigned to reveal myself.” He offered a wry smile. “And because you don’t hate me the way you should.”

“You cannot just say something so absurd and expect to believe it,” you said. “Anyone can rummage up a coat of arms. I have not heard and or received a single word from Nikolai, and now I am supposed to believe that he is right in front of me?”

“It sounds absurd when you put it like that,” Sturmhond said with a frown.

“Because it is absurd,” you enunciated. “I actually thank you for this, because now I know I’m making the correct choice. You may be a good captain, but you are a complete blackguard.”

You turned and offered a tight smile to Tamar. “Please move. I’d like to leave.”

“He speaks the truth,” Tamar said. “I promise you. He’s Nikolai Lantsov. My brother tailored him into Sturmhond at the beginning of all this, when we joined his crew. ”

You paused and looked back at the pirate claiming to be the man you loved. “What?”

“Nikolai Lantsov is much more valuable as a hostage on the seas,” he said. “No one spares a second glance at Sturmhond.”

“Then change him back,” you said, looking back at Tamar. “Get your brother and make him change him back if you want even the slightest chance of me believing these lies.”

“They are not lies,” she insisted. “And I’m not the best tailor.”

“You’re both Grisha,” you said flatly.

“Heartrenders,” Sturmhond (Nikolai?) supplied. “My most trusted crew. Come on, Tamar— I believe in you. Work your magic.”

She rolled her eyes as she walked over to him, and though your immediate instinct was to take the exit you’d been given, you crossed your arms and waited as she did her work. It didn’t take long for his muddy green eyes to change to hazel, his red hair to blonde. A slightly less broken nose.

He… he looked like the Nikolai you knew. It was staggering to just be standing across from him—or at least a mirror image of him—after so long apart. Older, more weathered, but with the same glint in his eye. The same glint that you looked forward to with each day, the glint that you remembered when you didn’t have him anymore.

“That doesn’t mean much,” you finally said, glancing away. “If you can tailor him into Sturmhond, surely you can tailor him into a Lantsov.”

“You overestimate my tailoring abilities,” Tamar said dryly.

“I still don’t trust it,” you said, and you started again for the door.

“When we were seven, I convinced you to sneak out of our etiquette lessons and go down to the river,” he suddenly said. Your hand froze on the door. “You scraped yourself on a particularly sharp rock while we were traversing the waters—you still have the scar on your ankle.”

You turned around. “How do you know that?”

“My father held a party and your family attended,” he continued. “We were ten and it was the most boring night possible. We evaded our parents’ attention and snuck off to the kitchens.” He smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever had so many pastries in my life.”

A smile of your own, almost subconscious, began to form on your lips. You hadn’t thought of that party in years.

“And when I was fifteen, the year before I enlisted, I did the worst thing I could have done to your father.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I took one of his prized swords and did all sorts of moves trying to impress you—I only managed to dent it and get banned from your home for months.”

“I can’t believe you remember that,” you murmured.

“And…” he sighed and opened his drawer, rummaging around for a moment. He held a ring between his fingers when he emerged, and your heart stopped beating for a second. “I still have this.”

Your hand was shaking when you reached beneath your collar and took hold of the string around your neck. You pulled it into view, and the ring hanging on the bottom glinted in the light.

Your engagement rings still matched perfectly.

Nikolai’s smile was bright as you remembered as the realization hit. “And you still have yours.”

“Of course I do,” you said. “It was a lot of work to keep it in my possession.”

“I’m glad you went through it, then.”

“It really is you,” you whispered, letting your makeshift necklace fall back against your skin. “I— I just don’t understand. Why are you here? Why are you playing pretend as a pirate?”

“Privateer,” he corrected. He glanced over at Tamar, still holding her post. “Could you give us a moment alone?”

She nodded and left, shutting the door behind her. The room felt smaller with just you and Nikolai in it, with the man you were meant to marry who left you in the past.

“I do this because I can do much more to help Ravka from the seas as Sturmhond than gallivanting around court as a second son—a bastard son at that. My parents appreciate Sturmhond much more than they would Prince Nikolai.”

“I appreciated Prince Nikolai,” you said. “I appreciated just Nikolai. You could have at least sent a letter.”

“I know,” Nikolai said. To his credit, he did look mournful. “If there is one thing I regret about all of this, it is how I left you. I said what I said the other day because it’s true—I have not forgotten you. I never did.”

“Then why go through all of this with me?” you asked. “Why annoy me into spending time with you?”

“Because I’ve always been quite good at annoying you,” Nikolai said wryly, then his expression sobered. “And because… I didn’t know how you would feel about me after all this time. Everything you said yesterday was true—I did leave you, and I haven’t said a word to you since. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hated me, and if you did, I didn’t want to force myself back into your life.” He managed another small smile. “Fortunately for me, you did not hate me.”

“I could never hate you, Nikolai,” you murmured. “I— I loved you. For a long time, and I think I still might.”

“Even more fortunate for me,” he said softly.

“So why didn’t you come back?” you asked.

“I…” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Still cut in a military style. “You talked about how you despised your parents for forcing you into a marriage at such a young age. I didn’t want to force you into a life with me. If I had known you—” he chuckled, a boyish smile on his lips— “if I had known you loved me, I don’t know if Sturmhond would have ever come into fruition.”

“You are the reason I was here,” you said. “My parents thought they struck gold when the king agreed to a marriage between us. I thought I had struck gold as well, in you—a marriage my parents wanted couldn’t have been all bad if you were meant to be my husband. But you left that in the dust, and they still wanted a husband for me.”

“A marriage you didn’t want,” he echoed, his eyes soft.

You nodded. “They did all the work behind the scenes—I was going to meet him on our wedding day, some Kerch banker’s son. And I just… couldn’t face a life like that. So I ran. And with all the luck in the world—” you gestured lazily— “I ended up here.”

“Then I suppose it’s only fair that I ended up rescuing you,” Nikolai said.

“I thought this wasn’t a rescue,” you said wryly.

He chuckled and shook his head. “No. It’s still an opportunity— one I think you’ll like much more.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I plan to go back and take the throne someday,” Nikolai said, moving around his desk to be closer to you. “But I don’t want to miss another moment with you, not now. So until then,” he took your hand, encasing it between his own, and the warmth it provided was something you’d sorely missed, “will you do me the honor of sailing by my side?”

“I’m not a sailor,” you said with a breathy laugh.

“I can teach you,” he said eagerly. “I can teach you everything I know until you’re a better privateer than me. And you can teach me everything I’ve missed while being at sea—all the noble things I ought to know for when I return home.”

Your lips quirked in a smile, hardly able to contain the giddiness bursting in your chest. Your life went from destruction at the hands of slavers to renewal with Nikolai Lantsov by your side once more.

“How can I refuse?”

Nikolai grinned, and he tugged on your intertwined hands to pull you into a kiss. It wasn’t the first one you’d shared, but it was surely the best. It felt like a promise of something new—the promise that he wouldn’t let you go like he did before.

You were breathless when you pulled away, and the sight of Nikolai, blonde hair slightly ruffled because of you, his lips slightly red because of you, made you kiss him even harder the second time.

Your back hit the side of his desk and Nikolai was practically on top of you, seven years of lost love pouring through him all at once.

“And if it wasn’t clear,” Nikolai murmured between kisses, “I never stopped loving you for one moment.”

You groaned and pulled him even closer, your hands clenched tight around the fabric of his jacket. “You wear too many clothes.”

“Then fix it.” His voice was sultry in your ear and you didn’t know how you went seven years without him.

You were very thankful that he asked Tamar to leave.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov fluff #nikolai lantsov angst #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fic #grishaverse x reader #sadie writes

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notmorbid · 3 months ago

Text

lilith.

dialogue prompts from lilith: a novel by eric rickstad.

i wish i could keep you home.

a mother knows. my mom always knew.

it'll serve you one day, that imagination of yours.

i got an icky feeling.

i wish the clock would stop.

is there ever any going back?

i wish things were like when you grew up.

remember this rage. remember it.

you go do what it is you need to do.

what you did was so heroic.

i admire you. lots of us do.

what do you have to say?

what i have to say doesn't matter.

there is nothing in this life that can be done without a cost.

you're a gift. special. chosen.

do good, and you will do well.

i know what ____ means.

i don't know what to say, or how to say it.

it's my responsibility to be direct.

____ is gone. you're here.

i'm not here. i'm not anywhere.

breathe. slow down and breathe.

i'm dead. you are, too.

you can't help yourself, can you?

once a seed of thought plants itself, the imagination waters it. reason cannot kill it.

to take care of others, we must first take care of ourselves.

there is nothing we're not prepared for.

i can't keep my phone on. it's too much.

we can't go back. there is only forward.

what do you need? you came because you need something.

i've kept an eye on your house, since you left.

you don't know shit.

don't stare at me.

sometimes there is no getting it all out.

you are braver and stronger than you'll ever know.

how did you know what was going to happen?

i feel severed from reality.

we can write a new myth.

what are you playing at?

i hope you're not lying to me.

no one in power cares.

everything but action is meaningless.

you have no idea what they can do.

i respect your bravery, if not your methods.

i find no comfort in eternity.

you look far away.

i need to be normal again.

i need me to be me, and you to be you.

i am the me i am now.

you were never normal. you have always been extraordinary.

i'm sorry for what happened to you.

you used to say anything was possible.

there are times when violence is necessary.

there's a grain of truth to all the best lies.

what excuse do i have?

what did you do? whisper to me.

don't 'if'.

sit. get off your feet.

it doesn't help, knowing.

#rp meme #sentence starters #rp memes #ask memes #inbox meme #ask meme #rp prompt #families #thriller meme

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ninii-winchester · 10 months ago

Text

Revived (Final)

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 1.3k

Warnings : mentions of medical aid, potential spoilers s9, mark of cain mentioned, fluff(?)

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Dean's hand shook as he carried Y/n inside the motel room. Sam quickly fetched the medical kit and rushed to her side. Laying her down on one of the beds, Dean carefully teared apart the hole which was caused by the blade stab, giving Sam more room to stitch her thigh.

After her wound was closed and bandaged Dean helped her with a glass of water, encouraging her to take small sips. After the small cuts on her face were cleaned too, the room fell into a uncomfortable silence. Dean's gaze was hard as he stared at her, now that the anxiety rush of her being in danger passed, he's furious. The demon's word came crashing back into him. For a minute he could've let it go, given demons lie all the time. But Crowley's appearance had nailed down the last bit of uncertainty he had.

Y/n had actually sold her soul.

Sam paced the room, unable to wrap his head around the events of last few hours. This was supposed to be a normal hunt, no different from any other one they've ever been on, never in his entire life he could've expected this outcome of a supposed hunt.

Y/n's heart was beating rapidly, she could feel it against her ribcage, as if it would jump out of her mouth any second. She knew what she had done and she knew she'd have to deal with the consequences of her actions but it never occurred to her, that it would come hit her sooner than she has expected. The look on both brothers face told her that neither of them were pleased with her decision. She decided its time she bites the bullet and get this over with.

"Say it." She whispered lowly. None of the boys spoke for a whole minute before Sam spoke,

"Why'd you do it?" He questioned, "Rowena said she can bring him back."

"She told me she couldn't do it. She lied because I told her to." She replied avoiding eye contact with either brother. "She said it's not a hex or curse so cannot undo it, Dean died because he hit his head."

"You told me not to do it and you go ahead and do the exact same thing!" Sam exclaimed while Dean continued to watch them silently. When she didn't reply Sam shook his head slumping down on a chair. She took a deep breath before answering,

"You two have been dancing this dance for so long. I knew Dean would be pissed if he found out you sold your soul. I just wanted him back, is it so wrong?" She said her voice getting louder.

"And you think I wouldn't be pissed if it were you?" Dean finally spoke.

"It doesn't matter. I did what I wanted to. You're not the boss of me." She replied crossing her arms across her chest.

"I.." Dean pinched the bridge of his nose before he spoke again, "this isn't about being anyone's boss, how could you be so stupid?" He snapped stepping closer to her bed. Sam felt the tension rising in the room so he quietly slipped out of the room.

"Call me stupid, reckless or careless. Truth is I am selfish." She yelled, tears welling up in her eyes. Dean recoiled a bit at that. "I am selfish, I don't want to live in world where there is no Dean Winchester. I would do it over and over again if it means that you survive." Her voice turned low as she looked away, her lip quivering as she tried to keep herself from crying her wits out.

Dean hadn't expected her to express herself so openly, he knew the two of them confessed to being in love with each other but he never guessed the intensity of her love for him. He took a cautious step towards her and sat beside her on the bed.

"Hey, look at me." Dean spoke as softly as he could. "I understand your feelings but sacrificing your life for me isn't what I want from anyone, not you, not Sammy or anyone else." He cupped her cheek in his hand.

"Dean, I got fifteen years before the sacrifice comes into play. And I'm a hunter, who's to say I was going to live a long life. I'm happy to give my life as long as I get to spend it with you, or whatever's left of it."

"Hell ain't no field trip, sweetheart. I don't want you to go through all that pain."

"We'll think about it when we get there. One day at a time?"

Dean sighed knowing there's no way out it. He would never be able to convince her to undo it. For him, fifteen years is too less to spend with her, but it's enough for him to get here out this mess. And he swore on everything he loves, he will get her out of this mess.

Dean has never considered himself lucky, if anything he's always thought that fate was out there to get him. To fuck him up in more ways than one, but this time, he felt the cards were stacked in his favour.

Dean and Crowley went to see Cain, they decided to team up to take down Abbadon. Cain was nonchalant about the demons attacking them while Dean fought vigorously. Crowley dealt with some other demons and came to where Dean and Cain were.

"If you want I can give you the mark Dean," Cain spoke with urgency. "With the mark and the First Blade, you can take care of Abbadon."

Dean looked at Crowley, who seemed like he was ready to beg on his knees for him to do it. But Dean didn't want him to beg, his gaze turned demanding.

"Her soul." Was the only thing he said.

Cain looked back and forth between the Winchester and The king of Hell. Crowley rolled his eyes but brought up a piece of paper and burned it.

"Your girl's soul is her own now." Crowley spoke, not happy about giving it back but he had bigger problems at hand.

Cain raised a brow at Crowley's words and he added, "you're much more like me than I thought." He said remembering how he left all the Hell business behind for his Colette. Dean nodded towards Cain's mark and the man transferred the mark to Dean.

"Are you fucking insane?" Was the first thing Y/n yelled as soon as she saw the Mark on Dean's arm.

"Insanely in love with you, yes." He replied plopping on the chair, taking a swig of his beer.

"Not funny, Dean. What did you do!?" She exclaimed observing his arm.

"Wasn't trying to be funny, sweetheart. Crowley had your soul and he gave it back in exchange of me ganking that Abbadon bitch." Dean said nonchalantly and it angered her to no end.

"You're talking as if you just bought groceries Dean, what the hell is wrong with you? That Mark is evil, it'll turn you into a monster." Dean stood up from his chair and walked over to her.

"I have you to keep me grounded. And I'd rather be a monster than let you go to hell. This discussion is over." He pecked her lips before walking away.

That discussion was far from over but Dean made sure it was never brought up ever again. It was hard time for Y/n when Dean became a demon. It took Y/n and Sam a lot of blood, sweat and tears to bring him back but they did it.

“Can we please promise no more bargains with demons?” Y/n sighed into Dean’s chest as he held her tightly in his embrace.

“It’s a deal.” She looked at him with an incredulous look and he winked at her. She sighed dropping her forehead on his chest. He’s a cheeky bastard but he’s her cheeky bastard. And she wouldn’t trade him for the world.

Tags:

@galway-girlatwork

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beesofink · 2 months ago

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Bauhauzzo & Weathering Sickness: An Explanation

-By BeesOfInk-

Hello Everybee!! Ever since December, I've had a concept for how Bauhauzzo could get sick; I originally wanted to save this for a fanfiction, but I posted some sketches of the concept a while back and ever since then I've decided to just explain the whole thing. I was originally going to make this a sketch slideshow, but I've been quite busy as of late and I want to keep something akin to a regular upload schedule. So I will be posting the script of that slideshow instead!

Also, if you wish to use this concept, whenever it be for art or writing- you may, as long as you credit me and put a link to my tumblr blog in your post! I would love to see what you all do with the concept!!

-Content Warning for mentions of Vomiting and Body Deterioration-

Being made of stone, Bauhauzzo doesn't have the means to eat/digest food, drink liquids like how mortals do (although he likes tea), or to catch human sicknesses. However, this doesn't mean that he can't get ill; with time, whenever it be through air, water- rocks start to weather. And Bauhauzzo is not exempt from this. Every 100 years or so, he begins to weather. This is the equivalent of sickness for him, and goodness gracious, is it painful.

The water that he collects throughout the years begin to dissolve and break apart the stones that make up his body. Even more cracks will start showing up, and water will often fill in those empty spots. And that water, as well as the bits of stone that are rotting, need to be forced up and out of him.

So to put it simply, the symptoms that he experiences are:

- The weathering of his body, both outside and inside of him.

- Coughing up the aforementioned rotting rocks within him in harsh fits, which can lead to trouble breathing.

- Water overflowing within him- it has a sensation equivalent to that of painful stomach churning.

- Vomiting water

- Full Body Aches

- Sniffling/Sneezing out water

- Watering eyes

- Trouble Sleeping

- Disorientation

- Exhaustion

(The human equivalent of this would be a whooping cough with a skin rash, nausea, and body aches)

As painful as this entire process is, he cannot die from it. And even if he could, he's had Huzzle Mug by his side to help ever since the first time he experienced weathering sickness! It was tricky figuring out what to do when he first got ill (there was a massive panic in BuzzHuzz surrounding his sickness, which didn't help), but with time, studying, and clever thinking, it came up with a solution!

The solution consists of:

1. Having Bauhauzzo fully rid his body of water and weathered stones. If there's any left over and his "nausea" has already settled, chipping off those rocks and scooping up the water isn't a massive task.

2. Waiting for his "nausea" to settle, then applying fresh clay to any areas that are missing said clay. If they're areas that had writings carved into them, then those bits will need obviously to be recarved as well.

3. Sliding anything thin in between some of his cracks so that Bauhauzzo's mouth isn't accidentally sealed shut. The same goes for his hands. Now, he has to sit anywhere warm enough to dry off. He often falls asleep during the second part of this step, due to a lack of rest beforehand.

After he's done baking, he'll have mostly recovered!! The only thing he'll be dealing with is exhaustion from being severely ill. So during that time, he will normally relax with Huzzle Mug- occasionally, other Gods will join in as well. They all love him, like how we do. ♡

#great god grove #great god grove bauhauzzo #ggg bauhauzzo #bauhauzzo ggg #bauhauzzo #bees using ink #bees using ink 2025 #bees writing with ink #bees writing with ink 2025 #sickfic #< technically?? the concept could be used as a template #ggg fanart

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quack-quack-snacks · 1 year ago

Text

Star Crossed - Chapter 4

❤️Happy Holidays all! Hope you all had a wonderful time and if you didn’t I hope sincerely that it gets better for you!❤️

The Star Crossed Masterlist

My All Of Us Are Dead Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

Warnings: Normal AOUAD things, Word Count: 7,717

“Gyeong-su…” You heard Cheong-san say from behind you but it was like you were hearing it from underwater. The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat.

And the thoughts that Gyeong-su might not have one soon.

As Gyeong-su wiped his nose to find it bleeding, he brought his hands up to see black and purpled prominent veins growing from underneath the cuff of his undershirt and he looked at them in shock, shaking his head and mumbling indistinctly.

He stood up and breathed shakily as he tried to speak while his chair skid across the flooring. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong with me? Something’s wrong!”

You stood up from your chair and stood in front of him. You grabbed his hands and he looked you in the eyes. You nearly started sobbing on the spot as you saw the whites of his eyes turning red but swallowed down the lump in your throat before smiling at him.

“Y-yo…” you tried the first time but couldn’t get the words out so you cleared your throat and tried again. “You just need a t-tissue. It’ll be okay.”

He nodded as tears filled his eyes. The both of you knew you were lying but it was okay to be delusional sometimes… right?

He’d be okay… right?

If you just kept repeating that then he would be okay.

Everything was fine.

Gyeong-su was fine.

You were fine.

Right?

You frowned as you heard the scurrying of footsteps behind you while you reached into your pocket to grab one of the crumpled tissues you had from earlier and gave it to him but he couldn’t seem to grab it and it dropped to the floor.

“It’s not true…” You heard Cheong-san say from behind you yet you kept all of your focus on the boy who was in front of you.

“Come on. Get rid of him. Get rid of him now!” You heard Na-yeon scream and just as you were about to yell at her to shut up you felt someone grab you by the hand and pull you away from the boy.

“No, no…!” You tried to complain and weakly pulled against the hands restraining you, already knowing who it was. “Su-hyeok, he’s not. Gyeong-su’s not! I was with him for half an hour, he’s not!” You tried your best to convince him and looked up at him just to see him trying to keep a straight face while tears filled his eyes. “No!”

“Gyeong-su, stay where you are!” You heard On-jo say from behind you which brought your attention back to the group as Gyeong-su had rushed forward but everyone stepped back into a corner to try and avoid him like the plague. “Stay back!”

“I swear, I’m fucking not!” Gyeong-su begged and your heart broke at hearing the confidence in his words faltering.

“I’m sorry, Gyeong-su. Please, stay back.”

You watched as the remaining bit of hope in Gyeong-su’s eyes vanished like a flame being doused by water. “I’ve turned, right?” He asked, his voice quivering. “Cheong-san, what do I do?” He begged for guidance that none of you could provide, especially not Cheong-san who was dealing with the fact that his lifelong best friend was about to die at the hands of a virus that turned the kindest of souls into a flesh eating monster.

“No, no. This doesn’t make any sense. Why would you…” He started, just as confused and in denial as you were when On-jo came up from behind him and tried to pull him away.

“Cheong-san…!” She begged but he just yanked his hand back.

“Let go!” His voice broke as he was finally coming to terms with what was written in blood red ink in front of him. “This cannot be true. Why would you suddenly…?” He shook his head, false certainty refilling his voice as he stepped towards his friend. “No, no. Gyeong-su you weren’t-”

“Step away. Don’t come any closer!” Gyeong-su yelled as he ran backwards in an attempt to put distance between his friend and himself. You stopped struggling against Su-hyeok’s hold a while ago and just let him hug you to his chest while you watched in shock.

“B-but, you were fine. Gyeong-su, you were fine!” You tried to convince him and yourself when suddenly his neck cracked to the side.

Na-yeon looked around frantically as everyone stood there in shock as their friend turned right before their eyes. “Hey! What are you doing?” She sputtered out. “We need to kick him out! We’re all gonna die!” She screamed and you suddenly found the voice you’d lost before.

“Shut up! He-” your voice dropped from its screaming tone to one barely above being completely silent. “He just needs a tissue.”

“W-what’s happening…? Fuck!” You could hear Gyeong-su desperately get out as he gripped his head like it was pounding.

Na-yeon ran over to the door and yanked the umbrella away that was blocking it from being opened. “Get out. I said, get out!”

“Shut the fuck up!” He screamed before discovering a newfound determination within himself. “I’ll leave by myself! I’ll leave. I’ll go on my own!” He started sobbing. “Why would I bite you? We’re supposed to be fucking friends. If I… If I leave, it will be better for everyone.”

Every step he took towards the door you could feel more of your hope for him to be okay being lost.

“Gyeong-su,” Ms. Park spoke up and you looked over to see she had walked forward to the front of the group to speak to him directly. “Why don’t you just go into the recording room until we can figure out-”

Na-yeon interrupted her before she could finish. “If he stays in here he’s going to kill us all!”

“Na-yeon!” Your teacher screamed at her.

“I’m just trying to stay alive,” she whimpered out.

“I’ll leave. I’ll get out of here on my own,” Gyeong-su grunted out while breathing heavily and staggering towards the door, using the table and chair on his way to support him. He turned to look at everyone around him but his gaze stopped on your shocked one for a moment. “Don’t worry,” he started sobbing more and your vision started to get blurry with unshed tears. “I’ll get out of here.”

“Gyeong-su!” Cheong-san begged as his own eyes filled with tears that had yet to stain his cheeks. His lips quivered as he tried to remain strong in front of the group.

“It’s okay. Thank you for everything. Stay alive.”

Right as he tried to open the door to leave, he turned around and started looking at all of you in terror while thrashing around and mumbling things under his breath before his body contorted in strange directions, his bones creaking and breaking until he stood up and let out an unnatural roar and growled at all of you. Dae-su started walking towards him and both you and Su-hyeok tried to grab his arm to pull him back, knowing your friend was gone, until he shook you off and rushed forward when Gyeong-su’s empty shell of a body charged at the group standing by the speakers. He threw him against the table in an attempt to save himself as well as his classmates. Just as the monster who you briefly viewed as your friend was about to attack again, the sound of a familiar tune filled the air.

While everyone was focused on the fight, Cheong-san had managed to raise himself onto the window and grabbed a hold of the rope, hanging off the side of the building with only that to support him. He sang their tune, the tune of Auld Lang Syne, and the body of his old friend came rushing toward him before Cheong-san jumped out of the way just in time.

The group had sat in shock for a while until some started to cry. Cheong-san had gone into the recording room and threw the table to the ground in a fit of emotional turmoil. On-jo had walked up to the door for a moment before deciding to walk back and to just give him space.

A gut feeling told you space was the last thing he needed right now.

You walked away from the spot you had been leaning against the wall with Su-hyeok. You had been comforting him on the loss of his friend as you knew he was grieving right now and didn’t want to focus on your own pain. He and Dae-su had hugged and were currently exchanging tissues.

That was what you had learned to do the best. Block out the pain. Be the emotionless girl everyone knew and few loved.

You walked over to the recording studio’s door before taking a deep breath and walking in. You took slow steps as you entered and saw Cheong-san sitting right underneath the large window on the wall of the door. He’d been crying until you walked in, that much was clear by his red eyes, glistening cheeks, and sniffles. He’d wiped them away and turned to look in the other direction of you. You walked over to him and sat next to him against the wall. You both sat in silence for a few moments before he spoke.

“I’m fine, if that’s why you’re here. You can leave now,” he spoke rather harshly but this time it didn’t affect you as you knew he was on stage 2 of grief.

Anger.

“Go,” he told you, his voice breaking at the end and he pointed towards the door where you came from but you just looked at his hand before looking up to him.

You sighed and felt your nose and eyes stinging but pushed it down.

“You don’t have to be strong with me, you know?” He was taken aback by your words and looked visibly confused. You sighed before looking down at your fingers where they were playing with the hem of your vest. “I know none of you like me, and most of you think I’m like my brother,” you took a deep breath before you built the courage to look back into his eyes which looked even more astonished than before. “But in the short amount of time that I spent with Gyeong-su in this recording studio,” you gestured to the mess in front of you as you looked at the book and string Gyeong-su had been playing with before everything went down, now places in the corner of the room. “I’d like to believe I was able to call him my friend, and I’d like to be able to call you one too,” you looked back up at him once again to see tears had once again gathered along his waterline and he was looking at you with his lips quivering as he still tried to hold back his emotions. “So I’ll say it again,” you grabbed his hand from where it was resting on his knee and gave it a friendly and comforting squeeze. “You don’t have to be strong with me, Cheong-san.”

There were a few moments where the two of you sat there and stared into each other’s eyes before a teardrop streaked down his cheek. Another followed after that one, and then another, and then another, until he had started sobbing and you brought him into a hug while hiding your own tears which slipped onto his shirt. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t even try to think of something to say in a situation as bizarre as this one. You just held him in his time of grief.

After a few minutes when Cheong-san had calmed down, he wiped his eyes with his sleeve and pulled away from you. Standing up, he lowered a hand down to you so he could help you up and you gave him a small smile as you accepted it.

The two of you walked out and Cheong-san gave you a smile before walking over to lean against the window, looking out onto the field. This time you let him be alone as you walked over to sit down next to Su-hyeok who was on the ground. You mirrored his position with your legs bent and your arms resting on your knees. Your shoulders were grazing ever so slightly and he leaned over to bump into your shoulder ever so gently. You looked over to him and he smiled at you. You couldn’t handle the softness in his gaze so you blushed and looked away, knocking your own shoulder into his as he laughed lightly.

“That asshole,” you heard Dae-su sob after a little while when the grieving atmosphere set in again. “Gyeong-su, why did you have to turn?”

Na-yeon opened her mouth and you just knew what she was going to say next would piss you off. “I told you all. He was infected.”

“Well, are you happy now?” Dae-su said as he looked at her in despair, you quickly stood up and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. He looked back at you and had a bit of a shocked look which you internally rolled your eyes at but stopped when he put one of his hands on top of the one you had resting on his shoulder. You smiled softly but it fell immediately when Na-yeon started talking again.

“You were all wrong. Only I was right. What would you even do without me?” Your head snapped over to her.

“Na-yeon. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut up and let us mourn the loss of our friend. Don’t be heartless on top of being a bitch,” you told her and just as you looked back at Dae-su, you saw her roll her eyes and scoff.

Just as you were about to talk again, Nam-ra started speaking. “Hey,” she paused and you looked over at her. “Maybe you did it.”

“What?” Na-yeon questioned her in an annoyed tone.

Nam-ra grabbed everyone’s attention as she walked over until she was standing right in front of Na-yeon’s sitting form.

“I saw everything… Na-yeon,” Nam-ra told her, accusing her of something that had yet to be revealed.

Na-yeon stood up to be face to face with the class president. “What? What did you see?” She asked and seemed to get on the defensive quickly which had suspicion rising in your gut.

“You are the one who did it,” Nam-ra revealed, yet everyone was still confused.

“Who did what? I didn’t do anything to Gyeong-su,” she defended.

“I didn’t say anything about Gyeong-su,” Nam-ra told her, which kind of confused you.

It’s kind of inferred because we were talking about his death less than a minute ago, but okay.

“Knock it off!” Na-yeon told her, raising her voice a little.

“What are you talking about?” Wu-jin asked as Su-hyeok and Cheong-san - who were both minding their business - turned to look at the scene.

“I didn’t do anything,” Na-yeon insisted.

“While we were all watching Gyeong-su, you were in the back alone,” your friend explained, then turned and pointed at the broken mop that laid against one of the cabinets in the room. “You wiped that blood with your handkerchief.”

She hesitated before replying in a shaky and slightly fearful voice. “No, I didn’t.”

“You wiped that on the scratch on Gyeong-su’s hand.”

At Nam-ra’s explanation, everyone had a shocked look on their faces, unable to comprehend that their classmate was the cause of their friend’s death. Even you had nothing to say and your hand went limp on Dae-su’s shoulder, only being held there by his own, which tightened on yours.

“I did not,” Na-yeon tried again to defend herself but it was getting less and less convincing as Nam-ra was insistent on proving her to be the murderer of Gyeong-su. The innocent boy who was everything good yet died for nothing.

“It’s in your pocket,” the other girl voiced.

“So what?”

“Take it out.”

“No.”

“If you’re so innocent you’d take it out and show us,” you sneered at her and your hand closed into a fist while tightly gripping the fabric of Dae-su’s vest.

“I said no,” she insisted while looking at you and slapping away Nam-ra’s extended hand. You glared and she visibly shrunk in on herself.

“Should I take it out?” Nam-ra paused for a split second before reaching for Na-yeon’s pocket until the girl pushed her hand away and slapped her face, most likely a lot softer than she intended to.

“Fuck you! Who the hell do you think you are? Huh? Class president?” She mocked before Nam-ra sent a hard slap across her face and her head snapped to the side.

“You never treated me like president.”

Despite the situation at hand, you smirked slightly as you saw your best friend standing up for herself and just being a complete badass. You let go of Dae-su’s shoulder and went to lean against the table beside where he sat.

“Nam-ra, that’s enough!” Ms. Park exclaimed as she sped-walked up to the two girls to break up the argument. She looked back and forth across the floor as she tried to figure out what to say before continuing. “Nam-ra, do you realize what you’re saying right now? If that is true, it means Na-yeon killed Gyeong-su.”

“It’s true. Na-yeon did it,” the girl confirmed. You looked over at Cheong-san as he watched. His eyes were filled with so many conflicting emotions: anger, sadness, betrayal, remorse. “She killed him.”

Na-yeon scoffed and rolled her eyes before she reached her hand into her pocket. “You fucking cunt,” she exclaimed angrily before throwing the handkerchief in Nam-ra’s face. Dae-su had to grab ahold of your sleeve to keep you from rushing forward. “There. Happy?”

Nam-ra, who seemed unaffected by Na-yeon’s treatment, reached down to pick up the cloth from the floor and inspect it. “This is blood.”

“I wiped Gyeong-su’s hand,” she claimed and you scowled as you could see the cloth.

“This is his blood?”

“You can’t tell?”

“If it was his fucking blood there wouldn’t be that much of it, you cunt. He’d stopped bleeding 10 minutes into staying in the studio room,” you told her and her eyes flashed with fear but her expression remained the same.

“Then put it on your wound,” Nam-ra told her in an attempt to show either her innocence or her guiltiness. “Wipe yourself with it if you’re so confident.”

You could see her searching for an answer. “Like his blood is so clean? He was a zombie.”

Nam-ra threw the cloth to the floor and stepped closer to her offensively. “He was just fine until you infected him with your handkerchief.”

“Na-yeon… you-” Cheong-san started and started marching towards Na-yeon until Su-hyeok held him back.

“Damn it! It wasn’t me!” She screamed while crouching down and picking up the handkerchief, hovering it above her wound as she looked around for someone to tell her to stop, that they believed her, anything for her to not do it.

Ms. Park, ever the mediator, ran up to her and grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand and the handkerchief away from her scrape, trying to pull it from her hands but Na-yeon resisted. “Don’t do it. Stop it.”

“Let go,” she whimpered as the teacher tried to yank it from her hands.

“I said to stop it. Give it to me.”

“Leave me alone! Fuck!” Na-yeon screamed while breathing heavily. She let go of the handkerchief and stood up with teary eyes. She looked across the room at everyone, “I should just die too then, huh? That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Nobody answered and so she sighed, looking away before turning back. “Why is Gyeong-su better than me? That dirty welfie pushed me,” she whimpered.

“You little cheat!” You yelled at her while trying to rush forward but Dae-su was still holding onto your sleeve. Su-hyeok abandoned his spot as the one to hold back Cheong-san to wrap his arms around you, restricting any movement of your arms while you struggled and kicked your feet.

“Na-yeon,” Park said after a while of silence, “You didn’t…”

“So you did do it,” Cheong-san spoke, devastated, until he raised his voice to yell at her. Dae-su rushed forward to hold him back. “How could you fucking-”

“I didn’t kill him, okay?” She insisted and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears with rage. Rage and loss. “Gyeong-su fell, but he got up and ran. He’s still alive. He didn’t die, he just turned.”

“You mother fucker! They’re the exact same fucking thing!” You yelled out at the same time On-jo spoke.

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“Stop ganging up on me!” She whined and threw her hands around like a toddler having a tantrum. “When I said he smelled, you all laughed. You all made fun of him too. Don’t try to act all innocent now.”

You thrashed around harder as you felt your eyes burning and your cheeks wet and you finally realized you were crying.

It had been a while since you’d done that.

Dae-su lost his grip on Cheong-san and he ran towards Na-yeon, Su-hyeok unable to stop him because of you in his arms already.

The boy pushed the girl to the ground and breathed heavily. “How could you kill him?” He screamed while Ms. Park told him to stop it. Na-yeon kept her head down.

“You’re… a murderer.”

Her head lifted and you saw tears falling down her face but you had no sympathy at all.

“I have no friends at all,” she whimpered out.

“I wondering fucking why,” you growled.

“I don’t need any of you. Fuck you,” she then stood up and shakily walked out of the room, Wu-jin rushing after her just as the door closed and Ms. Park moved to stop him.

“Listen,” she started and you were finally released from Su-hyeok’s grip after you stopped struggling. “No matter what happens, you stay alive. Also, you must never take a life. If you cause someone else to die, life becomes meaningless.”

She looked at you all with a remorseful and fond gaze and you were sure you knew what she was about to do. “All right?”

“Ms. Park?” You whispered shakily and she looked at you with a small smile before turning and running out the room, rushing after Na-yeon.

“Ms. Park! Wait!” Dae-su yelled and ran towards the door and Wu-jin held him back to the best of his ability.

“Dae-su, don’t go!” he begged.

You had never felt so helpless. Your feet seemed to be glued to the floor and your eyes stuck to the door where she had stood only moments ago.

Dae-su started sobbing into Wu-jin’s shoulder and your heart broke for him.

“Fuck!” You heard Cheong-san scream followed by the banging of his fist against a computer. You didn’t have the energy to stop him, even though you knew if he did it too much he could seriously injure his hand.

You were sitting in the corner next to Su-hyeok who had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest as you were too much in shock to cry; again. You saw On-jo walk up to Cheong-san as he was staring out the window but you couldn’t hear their hushed whispers.

“I feel like it’s my fault,” you said suddenly, only a breath above a whisper. Su-hyeok looked down at you in surprise and confusion.

“What’s your fault?”

“Gyeong-su.”

He sat up from his leaning position against the wall, bringing you with him, and looked you in the eyes. “How is it your fault? You didn’t do anything!” He tried to convince you, still whispering so the others wouldn’t butt their way into your business .

You let out a sad laugh as you felt your nose burning. “Exactly. I didn’t fucking do anything,” you wiped your nose slightly with the back of your hand to subside the sting. “I didn’t notice what she was doing. If I only noticed and was a little more attentive then Gyeong-su would be alive! It’s my fau-”

“No,” Su-hyeok insisted as he brought your head back into his chest to keep the guilty thoughts at bay. His heartbeat worked just enough for your soul to take a breath. “No, (Y/n). It’s not your fault. How could you have possibly known what she was going to do. You didn’t need to be attentive at that moment because it was someone who was supposed to be loyal to the group and not fucking kill someone. That is not your fault. Thinking like that will just drive you insane.”

At his words, a small sob escaped your lips and your body started to shake with your silent tears as he trailed his hand up and down your back. His lips were pressed against the crown of your head as he whispered the reassurances that you were needing.

After you calmed down and wiped away the tears on your face with your sleeve, you sat up and gave Su-hyeok a grateful smile.

“Thank you,” you breathed.

“You don’t need to thank me.”

It was then you noticed how close the two of you were, faces only inches apart and you could see his eyes travel from your own down to your lips a few times. You backed away with your cheeks flushed and gave him a small smile. He seemed delighted with the effect he had on you and that made your cheeks burn even hotter.

“I’m going to go sit by Nam-ra, I haven’t really spoken to her much in the past day,” you told him, avoiding eye contact as you stood up.

“Okay,” he smiled and got up himself before winking at you and walking over to lean against the counter where Wu-jin was sitting. You took a breath to cool your cheeks and calm your nerves before going over to sit next to Nam-ra.

“Hey there, prez,” you greeted and she met you with a cheeky grin.

She nudged you in the side. “Hey there, lovergirl. How’s it like in paradise, hm?” She teased in a whispered voice and you covered your face with your hands.

“Stop that, we’re just friends!” You whined softly and she giggled for a moment until her face slowly fell back into a frown.

You didn’t want to ask if she was okay because you knew the answer would be no. Nobody was okay right now, Nam-ra wasn’t any different. Instead, you just grabbed her hand and held it in your own affectionately while she leaned her head on your shoulder.

You stayed like that for a while until Cheong-san spoke up and broke the silence. “I didn’t hear anything at all. I just couldn’t hear anything.”

“Like what?” Su-hyeok asked but Cheong-san didn’t lift his gaze from where he stared at the floor.

“I mean after Na-yeon went out and then Ms. Park went after her. I didn’t hear anything after that.”

“You mean, screaming?” Su-hyeok asked and Cheong-san finally looked up at his friend to confirm.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe they didn’t die, then. They wouldn’t have been quiet if zombies were biting them,” Dae-su spoke his thoughts. “They must be alive.”

You let out a hum of acknowledgment while everyone else stayed silent and he huffed in annoyance, feeling left out. “Why won’t you respond? No one answers me. I’m always talking to myself,” he looked down and played with his tie. You couldn’t help feeling bad even though you were the only one to acknowledge his thoughts, albeit with only a hum.

Just as you were about to say something, On-jo beat you to the punch. “I think you’re right.”

“Forget it,” Dae-su waved her off with an eye roll but she continued.

“I didn’t hear anything either.”

“Me neither,” Hyo-ryung threw in her own thoughts. “ I was scared because I didn’t know how I’d feel if I heard them screaming, but I didn’t hear anything.”

“Come to think of it, neither did I,” Joon-yeong added.

“Then I’m right. They’re alive, right?” Dae-su asked and Joon-yeong nodded in confirmation.

“Should she be alive?” Ji-min asked angrily and you turned slightly to look at her, Nam-ra still resting her head on your shoulder, unmoving.

“What do you mean?” Joon-yeong asked.

“She’s a murderer. She killed Gyeong-su and walked out of here on her own. Is it even right for her to be alive?” She asked angrily, using rage as a coping mechanism for everything that was happening. “Aren’t you all being fake?”

“What about Ms. Park? Should she have died too?” Wu-jin questioned and Ji-min was quick to reply.

“Is that our fault?”

“Either way, we’re responsible for what happened,” he argued.

“Why is that? What did we do wrong?” She asked and you turned back to looking at your hands which were interlocked with Nam-ra’s, unable to look at the emotion in Ji-min’s eyes anymore. “Na-yeon killed someone, then played the victim, and chose to leave on her own. All because we didn’t listen to her,” She defended her own argument and Wu-jin remained silent. “If no one’s on your side, is it okay to kill?” Everyone stayed silent as they churned her question over in their brains. “Ms. Park acted like we were wrong. We didn’t tell Na-yeon to go out there. We didn’t tell Ms. Park to go out there, either. Why should we feel bad? What the hell did we do wrong?” Hyo-ryung leaned over to hug Ji-min and comfort her but the hand she placed on her shoulder was shoved off.

You noticed On-jo looking down at the table and a teardrop falling down her cheek and you reached over to grab onto her hand with your free one, squeezing gently. Surprisingly, she didn’t look shocked by your movements or the fact that you would do something like this, she just gave you a watery smile and sniffed before slightly wiping her nose on the sleeve of her slightly bloodied jacket.

Speaking of jackets, you realized you still didn’t have your own after using it to cover up Hyeon-ju when she came into the classroom. Although it wasn’t cold right now, you were sure it would be later, especially with the broken-open window.

“Hey,” Su-hyeok spoke up and interrupted everyone’s thoughts. “I feel weird saying this, but-”

He was interrupted when Wu-jin smacked his stomach. “Don’t say it.”

Su-hyeok groaned and took a strange moment of silence before continuing with what he was going to say. “Does anyone else have to go to the bathroom by any chance?” Nobody responded. “Am I the only one?”

Dae-su raised his hand slightly. “I do.”

“We have to go, too, actually. But we can’t go out,” Hyo-ryung spoke on behalf of her and Ji-min.

“I also have to go,” you added in and everyone’s head snapped towards you, making you shrink back in on yourself and press your cheek against the crown of Nam-ra’s head in embarrassment.

Joon-yeong sighed before pressing his forehead against the table.

“I’ve had to poop for a while,” Dae-su spoke up again and you held back the smile that threatened to take over your face.

“Dude… that’s… ew,” Wu-jin told him as he threw a pencil at him which was placed near his sitting spot.

“Why are you blaming me for this? Su-hyeok’s the one who brought it up. Poopings not a crime.”

“It’s not a crime, but-” Wu-jin told him with an amused face.

“But what? Don’t you need to go?”

“Yes, I do. Not poop, but, you know…” He informed.

“What about you?” Dae-su asked Cheong-san as he pointed at him, pleading for anyone to be on his side.

“I don’t… Pooping? No.”

He turned to Hyo-ryung. “Don’t you need to go?”

“Why are you asking me?” She whined.

“Why are you getting annoyed?” He shot back.

“What do you want from us? We can’t go out, anyways.”

Dae-su sighed deeply before his eyes caught on yours and he shot up straight. “(Y/n)!”

You smiled, amused, and Dae-su looked ecstatic at your expression. “Yes, Dae-su?”

“Do you need to go? Do you need to poop?” He asked, practically begging you to agree.

Your head tilted a bit as you looked up while thinking. “Yes,” you finally replied.

His hands shot up in victory. “Really?”

“No,” you laughed and he deflated like a balloon back into his seat with a playful glare. “I do have to go though.”

He sighed out again before he looked at the window. “I have an idea.”

You sighed and slapped your forehead, knowing exactly where he was going with this and not liking it one bit.

Dae-su walked up to the window, leaning against it slightly. “First, the girls and the guys will take turns.”

“Where?” Hyo-ryung asked, not understanding the context clues or deliberately being ignorant in hopes of him choosing a different answer.

He looked at her before gesturing to the window in front of him. “Here.”

She scoffed. “You’re crazy.”

“Stop it, man,” Cheong-san said and rolled his eyes at Dae-su’s strange suggestion.

“Why?” The boy asked with a slight whine. “The girls can wait in the other room, and the guys can just pee out the window.”

“What about… poop?” Wu-jin and you groaned out while shrinking in on yourself as you were sure you knew exactly what his idea would be.

He pointed at Wu-jin before looking back at the window. “Poop. Well…” He was silent for a moment as he thought before he slapped the frame in realization. “You can take your pants off and hang out the window,” he explained and climbed up the window so his butt was hanging off on one side while he held onto the window frame. “Like this.”

You couldn’t help yourself from snorting at his demonstration. “Outside!” He went on as you hid your smiling face underneath the collar of your green sweater. He stepped down from the window. “Like you’re taking a dump off of a cliff,” he then squatted down before continuing. “Like this.”

“What reaction is he hoping for?” You heard Wu-jin whisper before you spoke yourself.

“You seem to know a lot about this, Dae-su,” you teased. “I’m guessing you’ve had a lot of experience with pooping off of cliffs.”

He looked at you with an unamused look and you couldn’t help yourself from bursting out into laughter that everyone else joined in on as Dae-su rolled his eyes in annoyance. Nam-ra lifted her head from your shoulder and hid her smile behind her hand.

“I’m being serious!” He exclaimed over the laughter.

“Stop being ridiculous,” Hyo-ryung told him with an eyeroll after she calmed down.

“But someone has to hold you, so you don’t fall!” He quickly added when he saw a break in the giggles.

“How are you going to wipe your butt?” Joon-yeong asked him.

“Well, someone else should.”

“What is he saying?” Hyo-ryung facepalmed.

“Idiot.”

“Let’s just hold it,” Ju-min told everyone. “If the rescuers come-”

“It’ll take a while for them to get here,” On-jo looked at her as she interrupted her before looking down at her hands woefully. “It may be the same outside of the school.”

Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. The joking and laughter filled atmosphere was replaced with the sullen one as everyone thought of the situation they were still in.

“I don’t know how long we’ll be stuck here, but my dad always told me to separate the bathroom from where you sleep if you find yourself stranded,” On-jo continued, sounding like she had an idea.

“What do you suggest?” You implored.

“We create a makeshift bathroom for the time being,” she said confidently.

“Where will we create a bathroom and how?” Ji-min inquired, confused.

“Right there,” On-jo pointed to the recording booth and everyone turned to look.

“That’s smart, if we do some things to make it more private it could be the perfect place to make one. Good thinking,” you praised her and she blushed slightly as she looked back down to her hands while a small smile graced her features. You stood up with a slight hop before turning to On-jo and clapping your hands together. “Okay, boss lady! First order of motion?”

She tried to hide her smile but failed as a small laugh escaped her. She stood up herself and turned to look at the group of girls. “Nam-ra and you guys, try to look for something to cover the window.”

They nodded before scattering across the room to find things they could use.

“Cheong-san and Joon-yeong,” both boys turned to her at their names being called. “Make something that can absorb urine and feces to use as a toilet,” they nodded and got to work. “And then the rest of you…” she paused, knowing they needed something else but not sure what it was.

“A screen?” You suggested and she snapped in your direction in appreciation.

“Yes! A screen.”

“A screen?” Wu-jin asked to confirm in slight confusion and On-jo nodded.

“Yes, a screen to block.”

Wu-jin, Su-hyeok, and you walked into the recording booth and looked around. The both of them seemed stuck on what to use but you saw something immediately.

You walked over to where a few filing cabinets were and started moving one of them so it was positioned parallel to the wall with the window. Going over to start moving the second one, Su-hyeok realized you had been doing the work while they were just watching. He slapped Wu-jin’s chest before jogging over to you with a smile.

“How about you two move that one,” you pointed over to another filing cabinet on the other side of the room. “And I’ll move this one so they can be ‘walls’ on each side of that one,” you then pointed to the previous filing cabinet you had moved which was across from the window.

Su-hyeok frowned before moving over to where you were and going on the other side of the filing cabinet you were about to move. You reached over to smack the back of his head. “I don’t need help, idiot. Go help Wu-jin,” you pointed to where Wu-jin was struggling to move the filing cabinet on his own despite trying to seem like he wasn’t. Su-hyeok turned and rubbed his head where you smacked him before you could see the smile and blush that blessed his cheeks. He mentally slapped himself.

All she did was slap me on the head and call me an idiot, why the fuck am I smiling?

You laughed as you watched him walk away and he blushed harder at the sound of it.

Oh… that’s why.

After moving the two filing cabinets, you moving yours comically faster than the two boys did and rolling your eyes before helping them, you walked out of the room to see Dae-su laying his head down on the table. Cheong-san and Joon-yeong were almost done with what you assumed was the makeshift bathroom.

You walked over to them and rested a hand on Joon-yeong’s shoulder as you leaned over to look at the basket. “Is this the homemade toilet?”

Joon-yeong jumped at first before relaxing. “Yeah, we’re trying to figure something out for where to sit, though. With just this, everyone would probably just have to hover above it.”

You nodded and looked around for a second before something caught your eye and both of them lit up. You practically skipped over to the seat next to Dae-su and grabbed his neck pillow from where it was resting and walked back over to the two boys.

“Put this on top, I think this might be the best option we’ll have,” you suggested and placed the pillow on top of the rags in the basket.

“Dae-su's got a big butt, so let's…” he said as he opened up the button that held the two ends of the pillow together and spread it a bit.

“Perfect!” you smiled and opened the recording booth’s door for the two of them as they brought the basket inside. Walking over to where Nam-ra, On-jo, and the rest of them had set up a little circle of chairs, you sat in the one next to where Nam-ra was standing just as everyone was rushed out of the room by Su-hyeok who slammed the door harder than he probably intended to. You laughed.

“Do you want to sit down? I can pull up another chair,” you suggested to your best friend but she just politely shook her head with a smile. You held your hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, if you say so.”

After a little while, it was your turn and you used it quickly before grabbing a hand sanitizer bottle from one of the cabinets and pumping a little into your hand.

“Oh, thank god!” You heard and turned around to see On-jo, followed by Hyo-ryung, beside you. “I was worried about that. Even if we’re in a zombie apocalypse, I don’t really want to go to the bathroom and not wash my hands,” the bob hair cutted girl said in relief before holding her hand out. You put some in her hand and then some in On-jo’s as well and both grinned at you gratefully.

The bottle got passed around as everyone took a little and then started chatting.

“At least there are cops and soldiers out there, right?” Hyo-ryung questioned hopefully.

“But if you watch the movies, they can’t do anything either, right?” Wu-jin answered with his own question.

“I’m hoping that this situation will be different from the movies, that this thing will have a cure and everyone outside of the school is doing just fine,” you muttered with slight optimism. Hyo-ryung smiled at you and grabbed your hand.

“Exactly, and they always save everyone in the end.”

The door slammed shut and you noticed Joon-yeong, who had been standing outside of the door, waiting for his turn, had gone inside and Dae-su was standing on the other side with the tissue box you all had designated at the toilet paper in his hand.

Everyone’s face had turned sour as the smell of the recording booth flooded out with the small time the door was open.

“Shit!” Su-hyeok exclaimed as you all plugged your nose or wafted away the stench with your hand. “Why don’t you just stay inside?”

“Does it smell?” Dae-su asked cluelessly.

The door to the studio opened again before slamming as Joon-yeong came running out. “S-shit.”

“What?” Dae-su asked again as Joon-yeong ran towards the window to get some fresh air. “Stop being so dramatic. It doesn't smell at all.

“Oh, it does more than just smell. I’m pretty sure the zombies will bust down the door just because of that,” you joked and grabbed a piece of paper from behind you to use as a fan and blow away the air.

“Sit somewhere else,” Hyo-ryung demanded as Dae-su sat in the seat next to her but he just ignored her and she rolled her eyes.

You looked up at Nam-ra and saw that she was just staring off blankly out the window. “What’s up? What are you looking at?” You asked her.

She took a breath and hesitated before speaking her mind. “There’s nobody there. There are no lights on in the stores and apartments out there. They all ran away.”

“Or died…” You added depressingly.

“What do you mean by that?” On-jo quizzed.

“No one’s coming here to save us,” Name-ra stated.

“Why do you have to be so pessimistic?” Joon-yeong asked as he shifted uncomfortably under the change of tone in the air.

“Don’t you know my mom?” She shifted so she was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. “She would’ve torn the school apart looking for me, but she isn’t here yet.”

“So, what do you wanna do?” Ji-min asked in a bitter voice and Nam-ra turned to look at her, annoyed.

When you realized she wasn’t going to reply, you replied on her behalf. “I think she’s just trying to point out the facts, even if they are depressing,” you looked up at Nam-ra to see if your assumption was correct and she nodded.

Ji-min turned to face you. “We all know that no one’s coming. So I think we should just figure out what we’re gonna do next.

“We have to wait to be rescued,” On-jo vocalized. You all looked to her and you especially knew that she might have the best knowledge of what to do in a situation like this considering she had some information passed down to her from her dad. “We can’t leave somewhere safe to go somewhere dangerous.”

“But from the place where we are right now, we’re not exactly in a visible spot for someone to see and rescue us from,” you told her, knowing that even if rescuers showed up to save people, they would most likely go to the roof first before anywhere else if at all.

“And what if nobody comes?” Nam-ra added on and you nodded.

“We haven't been waiting that long yet,” the girl insisted as she stared up at her.

“How long do you think we have to wait? Do you think we should wait until we die?” Nam-ra asked in a slightly snarky tone which you winced at but didn’t make any move to interfere.

“No,” On-jo clarified. “I’m saying let’s wait as long as we can.”

“But when will we know when we can’t?” You asked and On-jo just looked at you, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she looked down at her lap.

“I don’t know… but there’s no way we can go out right now, anyway.”

“It’s probably because it’s nighttime. I’m sure somebody will come in the morning, maybe. There are a lot of choppers flying around,” Su-hyeok pointed out and everyone looked out the window to inspect the sky for a second before leaning back. He let out a sigh. “Let’s just wait until tomorrow, and we’ll see.”

Everyone nodded in agreement when Joon-yeong took in a deep breath and ran back into the recording studio while plugging his nose which you and Hyo-ryung slightly giggled at. Su-hyeok looked down with a smile at the sound but you didn’t notice it from how you leaned forward to talk to Hyo-ryung. You also didn’t notice the questioning looks that On-jo passed back and forth between you and Su-hyeok.

~~~

~~~

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