#not preferred but as prequels that is it is job as a prequel be an option to expand a beloved a franchise and universe

[pixie-skull]

homemade meme, number 11, as WTFF! What the Flying Fridge! I finished this game and feel disappointment that this game studio rushed KNOWING there would be a third movie.

[shiroselia]

Me when I'm the fiercest and most important lawyer in the solar system and I also look like this

[peoniesnro]

Perfect Partner | Prequel

All Jungkook wanted was to keep his ray of sunshine all to himself.

Paring- Jeon Jungkook × Reader

Genre- Yandere | Dark Romance

Warnings- Yandere (Obsessive love/ Jeon is delusional (Of course he is)/ Violence/ Blood/ Murder attempt/ Assualt attempts/ Clubbing/ Drugs/ Making out/ Dirty thoughts/ Grinding/ Betrayal/ And that bitchy friend) I hope I mentioned everyting.

Word count- 22K

a/n-Hey guys!! It’s finally done and out there. Phew… I feel so relieved and happy. First off, I’m so sorry for the delay. Life has been a lot lately—moving to a new state, starting at a new university, and basically rebuilding from scratch. It’s been tough, especially job hunting as a student, which has taken up a lot of my time. That was the main reason for this chapter to get late since I only wrote in the little time I got in between my job hunt (which hasn’t been very successful yet). That being said, after a lot of thought (and encouragement from my dear mutuals), I’ve decided to create a ko- fi page because a little support from you could help me a lot in this state. But of course, there’s no pressure at all. I’ll still continue to write my stories here free whenever I can because I love you all (A lot). But for anyone who wants to chip in, I’ve also prepared some special perks for Ko-fi supporters! You can check it out here. (Coffee corner) Thank you so much for all the love you’ve shown in this story and let’s meet with the second sequel. Love you all soooooo much. 

THE ONLY EXCEPTION

This is the prequel, read the first parts here -

Perfect Partner - Prefect Partner (Sequel 1)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook sits on the far end of the lecture hall, playing with his pen. Click. A roll. Another click and then another roll. Over and over. Picking up speed. His leg starts to bob as well. He hates this place. He hates lots of things. The university, that stupid professor, and all the other students. But, of course, after his parents. He hates them the most.

He never wanted to study business to begin with. He was perfectly fine with his computer. He could’ve changed the world if he was just allowed to learn what he wanted. But no. Here he is. Sitting in a strategic management lecture despite his huge displeasure. 

See, he has every reason to hate his parents. Dear parents who made him learn business because they wanted him to take after the family business. Parents who believed punishments and a whip were necessary to raise a boy. Parents who thought locking a child in a dark basement for days, terrified of unseen monsters, was the right way to discipline him. Parents who believed making him unloved was the way to make him manly. 

Well, fuck them!

Jungkook glances at his watch. One more minute until the lecture starts. 

59, 57, 58…

A click…

A roll…

The stupid professor probably won’t start the lecture on time, though. Jungkook knows it by experience.

45, 44, 43…

A click..

His leg bobs up and down uncontrollably.

He just wants the day to end. End it fast so he could haul inside his dorm room peacefully. 

3, 2, 1……

And it’s time but as he expected, the old hag doesn’t start the lecture. 

Jungkook groans in annoyance. When will people learn about punctuality? It’s exactly after 30 seconds that the old professor finally starts the lecture. 

Finally!

Then just as he starts speaking, the lecture hall door barges open. Someone storms inside, panting hard. Another fool who doesn’t know how to work on time. Jungkook watches in mild annoyance as the newcomer bows deeply in apology. So deep that their forehead practically  touches the floor. Then they turn around. 

A girl.

Her eyes roam over the lecture hall, trying to find an empty spot. The entire hall is almost filled by that point. Except for the one next to Jungkook. 

Oh fuck!

The last thing he wants is someone to sit next to him. Normally, people don’t. They prefer to stay away from the quiet kid who always keeps his face hidden in a hoodie. They preferred not to engage with the creepy kid who always wears black from head to toe. No problem, though. Jungkook is just fine. 

Then here comes this new girl, rushing toward him. Jungkook doesn’t bother looking at her as she starts to whisper.

“Hey! You don’t mind if I take this seat, right?” 

He doesn’t answer. The girl doesn’t wait for his answer, anyway. Just sits down. Shuffles around with her things while Jungkook just opens his laptop. He almost pays attention to the professor when her chirpy voice interrupts him again.

“I’m so sorry I’m probably invading your safe space. Shouldn’t have come so late to the lecture but my friends- wait, I’m rambling and you didn’t ask. You probably don’t want people yapping at you. First I made you sit with me and now I’m talking to you when you don’t even look at me- And I’m rambling again. I should shut up. I’m gonna shut up. I’m sorry.”

Then, silence.

Good. Thank fuck. Jungkook is so glad that the girl decided to shut her big mouth. He basks in the peaceful silence for a minute. But then here it comes. Fucking curiosity. Curiosity to know who’s the person that was forced to sit next to him but obviously wasn’t forced to talk to him. He turns his head slightly. To be met with a petite figure. Bright eyes wide and looking at the professor. Luscious lips where the bottom one is trapped between pearly teeth. Soft hair framing a pretty face. 

A girl who casually talked with him.

A girl who is apparently not freaked out by him. 

A pretty girl. 

Fucking pretty.

The prettiest. 

You!

The first encounters are always the funniest. Like this one. You turn your head abruptly toward him. As if you sensed his stares. Jungkook jerks and averts his head away from you. 

“Oh, by the way my name is (___), how ‘bout you?”

He doesn’t answer. Yet again. You don’t mind. Just start yapping. Yet again.

………………………….

You enter your shared apartment with your boyfriend. Feeling exhausted after a long day of lectures and your part time job. Just to be met with a Jimin who casually sprawls across your couch. You wrinkle your nose in displeasure. Not that you hate Jimin or anything, but lately, all your friends- including Hoseok’s and yours- have started living rent-free in your apartment. 

Jimin is a good, funny, and charming guy but in moments like these, all you want is to be left alone with your other half. Maybe just cuddling and watching a movie. Or even better- getting your brains fucked out. 

Well, it seems that the thought would have to wait. 

You walk toward Jimin on the couch. A sheet mask on his face and listening to Thank You, Next. He’s been obsessed with that song for so long now you’re becoming tired of hearing it. You nudge his legs with your knee, demanding him to make space for you. Jimin barely lifts his head before bending his legs and giving you space to sit down.

“Where’s Hobi?” You ask as you drop down onto the comfy leather.

“Around.” Jimin just nonchalantly waves his hand around making you annoyed. 

“Yah!” You bellow when he raises his head up once again.

“Yah!,” He matches your voice. “How the fuck would I know where your boyfriend is?” Asks, bewildered. Well, that’s a good point.

“Why are you here again?” So, you change the topic. Jimin finally stops trying to relax while your annoying figure is next to him. Instead, he sits up and removes the face mask.

“To use your skincare products and, of course, your shower.” Says matter of factly. You knew the face mask was yours. See, they’re totally taking advantage of your place. You open your mouth to give yours and your boyfriend’s best friend a piece of your mind when the sudden sound of a door opening interrupts you. You and Jimin both turn your head behind you. Where the only bedroom in this little apartment is, and a little bit disoriented Hoseok appears. 

Your lips stretch into a huge grin at the comforting presence of your boyfriend. He looks a little red in his face. It takes him a split second to return your grin. 

Weird!

Or not. He was probably asleep and woke up startled by your yelling. 

“Hey, baby!” You greet him warmly. Hold your hand out toward him. Silently asking him to join you on the couch. But before he could, Jimin interrupts.

“Is she still showering?” Gestures in your bedroom. “Yah! What is she? A damn fish?” Almost gets to his feet. You look at him in question when the answer appears through the door. 

Daebi. Your best friend. Her hair wraps up in one of your towels. 

“Oh hi baby, you’re early.” Hoseok finally returns your earlier greeting and takes your hand in his. Sits down next to you. You look at him surprised for a second before you avert your gaze to your best friend again. 

“Really?” You raise one of your brows. This is what you mean when you say they’re abusing your house. Jimin just gots up and disappears inside your bedroom- where you know-he inevitably goes to shower as well. And the idiot put on that mask before he showers. And that’s such a waste.

“Oh, c’mon, your shower is just nice. Besides, you're not the one who pays the bills. It’s your sweet boyfriend.” She winks and waltzes toward your mini kitchen.

“Seriously? This is the time we should move out from this place and let’s make sure we find a place with the shittiest shower.” You state as you still keep your eyes over to where your best friend just walks away. Hoseok snorts. 

“It’s okay baby.” He places a soft kiss on your cheek. You immediately relax at the sensation. He places another. Then another. All over your cheek and then trailing down toward your jaw. Neck. Throat. You swear you tried your best not to moan but an involuntary moan slips through your lips. Makes Hoseok grin against your skin. He gives you another kiss. This time open mouthed. You shudder. But then it hits you. He’s trying to distract you from getting mad at your friends. You shove him away.

“It’s not okay.” You shake your head in disagreement. Hoseok sighs. Rolls his eyes. 

“It’s just a shower (___).”

“I know. It’s not about the shower though. It’s about me wanting to have some alone time with you and-” Your turn to face him. It’s not that you're mad at your friends for real. You smirk. “- maybe I’m just horny….. and-”

He stops your words by attacking his lips to yours. Kisses you deep. Tongue swapping across your bottom lip, inviting you for that familiar heated dance. And you forget about your friends and the shower. Completely. Everything disappears. Just Hoseok. And you. Only living creatures. So, you give him what he’s asking for. Access to the inside of your mouth. He wastes no time in thrusting his tongue forward. Tangling with yours. Creating a hot mess of saliva. Only pulls away when your head starts to spin. “Yeah?” Questions when he does. 

“Yeah.” You whisper, breathlessly. So Daebi won’t hear you. A devilish smirk appears on your boyfriend’s face. 

“Then we should do something about it and let’s just ask Jimin to walk out of the shower with his eyes closed.” He whispers back. Kisses your neck once again. This time with his hot tongue grazing over your sensitive skin.

“Hobi..” You gasp softly. And that’s all it takes for your boyfriend’s restrictions to snap. He stands up at light speed. Almost picks you up from the couch just as your phone dings. You mindlessly search inside your pocket for the annoying device while keeping your eyes on Hoseok. He waits patiently until you check who’s texted you. You reluctantly turn your gaze toward your phone. Unlocking it quickly. Only to find a simple ‘Hi’ from an unknown number. “Who’s that? Anything important?” Hoseok asks you as you lock your phone again and throws it away. 

“Nope. I don’t know who that is. Don’t care either. C’mon, lover boy, fuck me, hm?” You bat your eyelashes at Hoseok. He curses slowly before really picking you up from the couch this time. You squeak as he starts to walk toward your bedroom. Just as Daebi comes out of the kitchen with a horrified expression on her face. She’s allergic to PDA. So, you understand that expression. You give her a quick wave before Hoseok kicks the bedroom door closed. 

……………………..

You’re early today. It feels nice to be early to your lecture and not having to sweat your ass down while running across the university. You stand in front of the almost empty lecture hall. Assessing your seating options. Since you’re early, you can choose to sit wherever you want. But then, your eyes slowly wander over to the back. Stopping at the figure hunched over there. All in black. Face covered in the hoodie. 

You didn’t see his face last time either. Only a set of pink lips. And a part of his cheek while he was busy staring at you. But that was all. He never bothered to remove his hoodie. It almost felt like he was deliberately trying to hide his face from you. Which was fine. It’s his choice anyway. Yet by the parts you saw, you guess the boy must have a goldy face. Such a shame he keeps it hidden.

Lost in your own thoughts, you slowly start to walk toward the back of the lecture hall. You had no option but to sit next to him the last time. And you just know he didn’t like your company that much. Still you decide to approach him. You just feel bad. True, you’ve never even seen him before. But you guess that’s how his entire college life must have been. Alone in the back of the class. Depressing. You can’t help but feel sad. And your altruistic self believes you can be of help. 

He turns his head slightly toward you when you finally approach him. Still not enough to see anything besides his pink lips. 

“Hi!” You chirp. “Mind if I?” You gesture at the empty seat, expecting him to stay silent. To ignore you completely like the last time. Then, to your surprise, he nods. Just once. But nonetheless he does. You grin widely to yourself as you sit. “Thank you.” Mumble. Get comfortable and start fumbling with your laptop and notes. “How have you been?” Question him knowing very well he won’t answer. And your expectations come true. 

See now, you don’t wish to be annoying to people. No. You can pick up a sign when it’s needed. But for some reason, you think this guy- who’s in black- maybe needs some company. Even though he doesn’t engage in any conversation with you. That’s the exact reason  why you keep asking him a question here or there throughout your lecture. And he nods or shakes his head for some of them. The only question that he answers verbally is when you ask what year he’s in. To your surprise, he’s in his final year. 

Well, lucky guy. He’d be out of this hell hole pretty soon. 

Now it’s only fifteen more minutes left until the lecture ends and you’re asking him about his favourite lecturer under your breath when you get distracted by your professor. 

“Okay, class, it’s time to discuss your upcoming assignment.” He clasps his hands and you immediately pay your full attention to him. You might not pay attention to the lectures but the assignments are important. “As you know the upcoming report is a paired work,” He starts and you sigh heavily. You hate group work. “-which will not be that difficult since we’ve been talking about the topic a lot. And I hope you all will do a great job. Then about assigning you partners, I decided that I’ll not be assigning you with random people since it makes it awkward and uncomfortable. I believe you’ll be more effective working with someone who you’re already comfortable with. So, it’s up to you to decide who your partner will be. You have two weeks until the due date.”

Oh fuck!

You have no one you’re familiar with in this class. It’s almost mechanical how you snap your head to your left. Toward the guy in black.

“Wanna partner up?” You blurt out before you can process. “Uh- I mean only if you want to of course. Do you have anyone here you want to partner up with or-”

“You.” He snaps, making you stop your rambling abruptly.

“Huh?”

“L-let’s p-partner up. You’re good.” He stutters out an explanation. You chuckle softly, finding him to be so adorable. 

“Good. Thank you. I mean I don’t know many people and oh,” You perk up remembering your need to make sure he doesn’t get high hopes about good grades while working with you. You’re just bad at this. “But I want you to know that I’m very bad at this. Business is really not my thing. Never wanted to pursue this degree but my mom  made me do it. So, I hope-”

“You have a shitty family too?”

You close your mouth immediately. 

What, now? 

That’s the most he’s said so far, and he’s asking if your family is shitty. A laugh slips through your lips.

“Wh-what? Of course, no-” You even start to shake your head. Because that’s not true. Your family is the best. “Not at all. They’re good. Just didn’t want me to pursue music since they believe it won’t be easy to make a stable future with that. That’s all. They're not bad.” You let him know when he just nods again and looks straight ahead. “Um- but why did you ask that?” You ask anyway, despite his clear signs of not wanting to talk anymore. He shrugs. 

“Because I have a shitty family.” States meekly. Voice almost inaudible that you have to lean in to catch it. And you feel your heart squeezing. That’s awful. See, you knew he was in a bad situation.  

“I’m so sorry.” You mutter sadly. “You didn’t want to study business?” You ask again, hoping that his family situation is just about not letting him pursue his dream. He shakes his head. Nothing more. You wait a minute until he says something else but when he doesn’t, you decide to ask something else. “What did you want to learn then?”

“I.T”

You can feel the melancholy in his voice. 

This is depressing. 

“I’m really sorry.” You mutter again.

………………………………

Jungkook can’t believe it. He really fucking can’t believe that someone- who’s a real person and a girl at that- wanted to sit next to him. To talk to him and then to partner up with him. It feels weird to be honest. Since he has never had such an experience in his life. Sure, he’s done group work but it was always with someone who was assigned to him. You, however, willingly chose to partner up with him. 

And you’re real. Very real. Not some fragment of his imagination. Not a scenario he made up in his head while waiting for sleep to reach him. Most importantly, you’re not someone who he met online either. If you were, then he wouldn’t be so surprised about this situation. Because he is a star when it comes to talking with strangers online. He actually has a couple of online girlfriends, to be precise. He’s this charming guy who can swoon women via texts. Or calls for that matter. But when it comes to reality, he’d just shy away. Knowing very well that no one would want to do anything with him. He’s the quiet kid in black clothes. Then here you are. Mindlessly and animatedly talking about the upcoming assignment. 

The two of you are walking back from the lecture. And he can see the exit. You haven’t stopped talking ever since you left the lecture hall. You’re telling him the way you could do this. Which part and who should do it. While you keep talking you both step out into the cold autumn air. 

“Or, we can do it the other way, you know. No pressure at all.” You look at him hopefully, coming to a halt at the entrance. Jungkook stops with you. Takes a minute. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll do it for both of us.” He mumbles slowly. But he knows that you heard it judging by the way your jaw dropped. He should’ve let you know before you start fussing over the details and talk a river. But he likes the way your luscious lips move when you talk. So, he waits until you’re out. You stay that way for a minute before prettily giggling. 

Wow, he likes the sound of it.

“Oh, you’re joking right? I didn’t take you to be the type to just casu-”

“I’m not,” Jungkook interrupts you. Your giggle trails off. “I’ll do it. You don’t have to worry.” He reassures you again since you don’t believe him. You take more than a minute this time. Try to duck a little to get a look at his face in vain. He turns his face away from you. He doesn’t want you to see him. You’re so nice to him and actually enjoy his presence. But what if you change your mind after seeing his face? Not that Jungkook has any problem with how he looks. He thinks he looks quite alright. Yet he’s still a weird kid. He knows he must look pale since he hasn’t gone under the sun for forever lately. And his eyes must look lonely and lifeless. That would surely scare you away. You give up trying to look at him. 

“Wh-what? But why?” Ask instead. Well, because Jungkook wants to do something nice for you. The only girl who ever approached him in real life. It simply makes him happy to do something for you. To see you happy. He doesn’t tell you that, however. He just shrugs. 

“Because I can.” Simply says when you start shaking your head. 

“No-no. That’s not right. I can’t let you do a whole twenty page long report on both of our behalf. Let’s just split the work evenly and-”

“I have lots of spare time.”

“How? I thought you’re in your final year? How can you have so much free time?”

“I just do.” Jungkook grumbles, starting to get annoyed at how you don’t want his help. He just wants to help you. Especially since he knows how bad you’re at this. Academically. Not just from your own words but of course from his research. He couldn’t help but look for you after the first day. Was just curious. It’s really a piece of cake for him to log into the university data. Then access all the details of students. Not that he’s done it before. Never felt a need to do so. You’re the first ever need. And yes, he found a lot about you. Including your personal details. Your permanent address, your current address, your phone number, and lastly your academic records. You were apparently not exaggerating when you told him that you’re bad at this. Barely into the start of your second year and your grades are already suffering. So, Jungkook can help you a little with it and he doesn’t like the way you’re being stubborn. 

But before he can say anything you sigh. To his great pleasure. “Okay, if you insist but I feel bad, you should ask me if you need anything, okay?” You take a step toward him. Come so close to him that he feels your body warmth. And he feels a skip in his heart beat. Even his breath hitch. This is new. He feels a shudder rippling through him. Maybe it’s because you’re a girl. Not that he doesn’t know anything. Of course, not. He can make a girl cum in their pants if he has a phone and an internet connection. This is new, though. But he knows that it’s not the novelty that makes his breathing ragged and heart beats a mile a minute. He has been in close proximity to other women but has never felt this way. “Okay?” You ask again, making him snap out of his reverie. 

He just nods. You smile. 

Pretty!

So fucking pretty. 

Pretty that he’s forgetting to breathe.

Pretty that it hurts.

He wants to just touch you. Just your cheek. Then trail down toward those luscious lips of yours. Then down your throat. Down, down, and down. 

Jungkook can’t help but wander his gaze down where his mind is taking him. Drinking up your appearance. Your silky skin. And the swell of your breasts. His eyes stop there. Even through the layers of clothing, your breasts look so plump. So soft. 

What if he just squeezes them in his large hand? What if-

“Hey!” The sudden voice makes him slightly jump on his spot. You turn around to meet the person who owns that voice at the same time he looks over you. A young man with a bright smile reaches you. Casually. Jungkook turns his gaze back to you right at the time to catch you reciprocating the newcomer's smile. 

It looks like you know each other.

“Hey, baby!” Then you mutter softly. 

Of fucking course you know each other.

The man pecks your lips slowly. And Jungkook feels his skin prickles. He goes rigid completely. Clenching his jaw so tight even without him knowing it. A burn in his chest makes it hard for him to breathe. 

“Who’s this?” The man asks from you, making you avert your eyes back to Jungkook. 

“Oh, this is my….” You start enthusiastically only to trail off. Of course, you still don’t know his name. And how it hurts. Ridiculous. Jungkook turns around without a word. Starts to walk away when you call after him. 

“Hey wait! We just, hey….”  

But he doesn’t turn around. 

…………………………..

Jungkook stands a few feet away from the friend group in the courtyard. He’s trying to stay clear from anyone's sight. Not that anyone would pay him any mind. Still, he doesn’t want you to notice him. No. That’d disrupt his peaceful view. It’s liberating to just look at you. 

The girl who wanted to talk with him by herself. 

The girl who’s so pretty. 

Now, Jungkook doesn’t know why he’s being this way. He found you to be breathtakingly beautiful the first day you sat next to him. You were damn interesting. Intriguing. With your endless chatter. 

And then when you had chosen to sit next to him for a second time, he felt something so deep inside him. He no longer hated sitting in a class where some old professor mindlessly talked about things that never reached his brain. He really liked the feeling of having you next to him. Just sitting next to him. Walking next to him. Standing next to him. It was amazing. The feeling. The way his heart was racing. The way he was feeling hot. It was all so nice. He no longer hated this place as well. Just two days with you, he was already feeling positive. 

He had never thought he’d ever get to feel such a feeling. A feeling that is not miserable. But instead hopeful. You’re like a ray of sunshine that suddenly peeked at him through the years of dark clouds that shrouded his entire world. 

Then, he felt so disappointed in the end.

You didn’t even know his name. It had hurt to think you weren’t even interested in knowing his name. Jungkook really doesn't know why you do what you do. Being all nice to him. Wanting to be around him. Maybe, you’re just a kind person who’s nice to everyone. But something inside him says that’s not the case. That can’t be right, can it? No, it isn’t. You wanted to approach him. That should mean something. Right?

Of course, it means something.

Besides, how well you and he were getting along with each other, even though it was just two days. You have felt so familiar to him. As if he has known you for years. And you share so many similarities. He has found so many interests that are common for you two. Then there is your family situation. You might not admit that you have a shitty family but that’s the truth. You and he are the same. What a match. Isn’t this fate? 

People don’t just be nice to other people. You were clearly interested in him. In some kind of way. Even though you obviously have a boyfriend. At that moment Jungkook had felt such a twist in his gut which he later figured out as jealousy. He was so jealous of the man who had approached you that way and got to touch you oh, so freely. It was not fair. It was maddening. 

He swears that he had wanted to just forget it and continue with his life like he always did. Just go back to his miserable life clouded by gloomy darkness. But it didn’t work. He was so desperate for that ray of sunshine after that first moment. It was impossible to go back to the darkness just after he felt how good it is to be in the light. No. He wasn’t ready to just let go. So, he had no other options but to seek you in any way he could find.

Your every social media account? Checked. He is following you on every platform he can. 

Your address? Checked. He’s been following you back home for a week now.

Your every class? Checked. He knows your daily schedule better than you do. 

He knows where you’d be at what time. He knows where you work part time and in which coffee shop you’d pay a visit every day. Knows what is your favourite order- and he liked it the first time he tried. No wonder you’re ordering the same thing again and again. He knows in which corner you’d sit at the library. He knows how much time you waste under the disguise of studying but spending doing nothing but daydreaming. He knows many things. And he’d continue to know more and more. Every little thing about you. Until there’s nothing more to know. Until you’re a part of him. 

And while he’s at it. He has felt the same warmth. Even though you are not just engaging in an active conversation with him, he felt the same comforting feeling by just looking at you talking with other people. Even though you aren’t laughing and smiling with him, he certainly does find solace in looking at your smile through your pictures. Pictures you’ve posted in your social media or the pictures he has captured at the most random times. 

Oh, how beautiful you look.

And despite all, despite the fact that you have no single idea about you being on his watch for over a week now, he feels so close. So close to you. Closer than he’s even been to anyone. As if you’ve lived with him. 

He loves that. Loves how content he feels even when he’s looking at you from afar. And of course, amidst all these, he’s kind of forgotten that you have a boyfriend. Who can blame him, after all. Besides, as now he’s watching you for probably the hundredth time, Jungkook thinks he doesn’t give a double fuck about your boyfriend either. Why should he? For now, he is more than satisfied with looking at you. When he wants more than that, he’d get more than that. Boyfriend or not. You deserve far better than that anyway. You deserve someone who’s obsessed with you. Someone who could treat you like the goddess you are. Like Jeon Jungkook himself. 

Until his moment comes, however, he will just love you from afar. 

……………………………….

You felt awful after the encounter with the guy in all black who’s now your assignment partner. It feels like such a bitchy thing to do, especially after he offered to do the report all by himself. That’s a huge favor to you since you’re barely hanging there. And yet, you didn’t even know his name.

You wanted to apologize profusely during your next lecture. And you waited expectantly for him to arrive. He didn’t. Which makes your guilt intensified ten fold. Then you waited until your next lecture. He didn’t attend it again. 

What if he’s really mad at you? What if you’ve hurt him? 

True that you don’t know him very well but hurting someone has not been your intention at all. And there’s the fact that he already has a problematic family. It must be really hard. 

Hence, your long face as you enter the university cafeteria after your lecture. Your mind goes around so many different things. You don’t even have a way to contact him. You don’t even know what you should do at this rate. There’s a pending assignment and if he’s decided not to do it anymore, then you need to come up with something. You can’t really afford to fail a subject. 

You sigh heavily as you wait in the line to place your order. Eyes just wandering around with no purpose. That’s when your eyes suddenly land on someone who’s hunched over their laptop in a corner booth.

Wait!

That someone is draped in all black. That someone has their face covered from a hoodie. 

A wide grin spreads across your face as you unmistakably recognize the person. That’s definitely him. Your assignment partner. You jump into action immediately. Practically sprint toward him. Bumping into a girl in your haste. You pay no attention to her as you make a beeline to the booth where he’s sitting all alone. 

“Hey!” You shout just as you reach the booth. Don’t wait for any permission as you slide into the booth right across from him. Someone else would’ve jerked a little at the unexpected barge in but not this guy. He doesn’t even raise his head to look up at you. Just keep staring at his laptop. 

Oh okay, that’s fine. 

“Hey, why didn’t you come to class today?” You ask despite his lack of interaction. And don’t receive an answer in return. You sigh again. Chew on your bottom lip. “Listen, I’m so sorry about what happened the other day. That was such a low thing to do. You even offered to do the report for me and-” You yet again in vain try to take a look at his face when he lower his head even more. “- I’m really sorry.” So, you just extend your sincere apology. He still doesn’t answer. “But in my defense, I asked your name on the first day, it was you who didn’t answer me.” You add stupidly thinking it’d ease him up. Wrong. He’s still silent. 

“Okay, okay, let’s just do this again.” You hold your hand toward him. “I’m (__). It’s nice to meet you Mr?” He doesn’t take your hand in his. Nor does he answer your question. You keep your hand that way for a long awkward second before you let it fall down. “Okay.” You mumble and nod just after another minute. “That’s fine. I get why you’re mad at me and that’s fair. I was a bitch and if you don’t want to do the report all by yourself anymore, I’m fine with it. Just tell me what part I should do so-”

He cuts you off abruptly by turning his laptop toward you all of a sudden. 

“Huh?” You dumbly stare at him. Then at the laptop screen. “Wh-what’s this?” Question tentatively. 

“Report.” Finally, he answers. You turn your attention back to him, not understanding what he’s talking about. “I already finished it.” So, he clarifies. 

What now? 

You hastily start to read the document on the device. Scroll down. Eyes roaming over the words, numbers, statistics, and images. Holy hell, he indeed has finished the report. All twenty pages are done. Your eyes go wide in pure disbelief. Even suck in a shaky breath. 

“Wow…” You whisper even without you knowing you said that audibly. “Wow..” This time, you say it more clearly. Look back at the guy in front of you. Still staring down and his face hidden. “Fucking wow, Mr. No name. How did you even? I mean.. It’s only been two weeks and you already finished this?” You shake your head. 

“Told you, I have a lot of spare time.” He mumbles softly, making you smile. You find him intriguing. And kind of adorable. “I- uh- will send it to you so you can proofread it. Let me know if any changes are needed.” He adds.

“I don’t think this will need any changes. You’re brilliant. Oh god thank you so much,” You chirp happily. “But still send it to me anyway and I’ll go through it.” You pull a tissue paper toward you. Fish out for a pen in your bag. Let out a victorious noise when you find one. “This is my email.” You explain to him as you write it down on the tissue. Shoves it across the table to him. “Thank you again, Mr. No name. You’re the best.” You exclaim yet again. Give him his laptop back when your alarm suddenly goes off. 

“Oh shit.” You take the device from your pocket and turn off the alarm. “I have another class.” Explain to your half- dead companion even when he doesn’t give a fuck. You get to your feet hastily. Looks like you’ll have to forget about your lunch. Almost turn around to leave before you eye the guy who’s nice enough to save your ass at least in one subject. 

You hesitate for a bit. Pondering on your thoughts. Then say fuck it as you hurriedly round the table. 

“Thank you so much!” You state with the bottom of your heart. Lean down to throw your arms around his neck. A fleeting sideways hug to show your gratitude. He’s so nice and you have no other way to show how thankful you are. 

“Let me know if you need anything in the future. I’m quite happy to return the favor.”

You shout that out as you already start to walk away. 

…………………

Jungkook stupidly stares at the tissue paper on the table. Your email address scribbled on it. His heart pounds erratically in his throat. His ears roar. Ridiculous, since it was just a simple hug. But he can’t help it. The way you melted into him. The way your breath momentarily hit his ear when you pulled away. The way your soft breasts just slightly pressed against his shoulder. 

Fuck!

What would he do to have it again? 

To have more. To have you in his hands. Your body pressed against his. Your soft breasts against his hard chest. To touch you all over. Kiss every inch of your skin. Knead your round ass cheeks. To smell you. And then of course, to have you naked and whimpering beneath him. His hard cock ramming inside you while you cry out his name. 

A thin layer of sweat forms on his skin. All the blood in his body rushing downward. How embarrassing this is that he’s getting a hard-on from a simple hug. He can’t help it. He absolutely can’t. 

Jungkook closes his eyes for a minute to relive the brief moment where he felt you against him. An involuntary groan leaves his throat at the memory. He’d have to rush home now. There’s an aching problem between his legs to take care of. Yet soon as he opens his eyes again, he’s met with the tissue paper on the table. 

Weird.

He finds you to be really weird. Why didn’t you text him your email address? Isn’t that the new normal? Or are you a hopeless romantic who loves to do such funny things? A soft smile graces his lips. 

Jungkook picks up the tissue from the table. 

Do you pity him? 

Or do you just like him, like how he thought? 

You approached him after all. Yet again. Like you always do. It makes Jungkook’s heart flutter to think that you’ve been looking for him. Looking for a chance to apologize sincerely. 

Oh, how complicated you are. Like an unsolvable puzzle. And Jungkook loves solving them. 

He pockets the tissue before picking up his phone. Still finding it weird that you decided to write it down like that. You could’ve just texted him. He unlocks the phone and opens a text thread where the last message was from more than two weeks ago. 

Pretty

You’re the one who sent the last message. 

Pretty

              Thursday, 15 March, 2018

Oh, no. I hate Choco Pie. Can’t stomach it. (9. 00 a.m.)

Jungkook hasn’t replied to you because it was just an hour before your lecture. Despite your enthusiasm to talk with him over the texts Jungkook has been pretty nervous that you won’t choose to sit next to him. Then you did. Solidifying his suspicions that you might like him. But then the day didn’t end well and he didn’t want to text you back. You didn’t either. Not even an apology. 

You’re weird.

First, you never asked his name even over texts. 

Second, you could’ve just text an apology but you sought him out instead. You decided to be a little romantic and write down your email on a darn tissue paper. Another smile graces over Jungkook’s lips at the prospect. Maybe he was right. Maybe you like him. It doesn’t matter that you have a boyfriend. Maybe you’re not in love with him. Maybe it’s not only him who’s been feeling so connected to you. 

Jungkook shoves his phone inside his pocket as well, deciding not to ponder on the thought anymore. It doesn’t matter. What matters is the fact that you actually came. Made amends. So, he turns off his laptop. Gathers his belongings to leave the cafeteria. Is pushing everything inside his bag when a loud chirpy voice catches his attention and makes him look in the direction. The way that someone happily bellowed really matches the way you do it. Hence his sudden interest. Yet he’s met with a stranger. A girl who just enters the cafeteria. A boy follows her. Jungkook almost looks away in disinterest before his mind registers the boy who entered. He does a quick double take.

And he wasn’t wrong.

There he is. Your so-called boyfriend. 

Jung Hoseok!

Of course, Jungkook knows everything about the said man from A to Z. Of course, he dug deeper into the said man’s life since the day he saw him. All it took was a simple stalk over your Instagram to find the needed person. Then it was just as easy as eating a piece of cake for Jungkook. Maybe, he recognizes the girl too. She was in your photos. She didn’t pique his interest, however. Only your boyfriend did. 

Oh, how Jungkook hates Jung Hoseok. Just because Hoseok exists. Because he exists and found you before Jungkook did. 

Not that Jungkook can do anything about it though. So, he proceeds to finish packing up his things. Swings his backpack over his shoulder. Takes a step forward just to stop dead on the track. Eyes wide at what he sees. 

The girl pouts. Whines about something he quite can’t hear. Then she turns around. Goes to her tippy-toes just to connect her mouth with the man behind her. The man who is unmistakably Jung Hoseok. The man who is definitely your boyfriend. 

Jungkook lets out a soft, inaudible gasp. 

Well, isn’t this so fucked up?

Hoseok doesn’t shove the girl away immediately. He revels in the kiss for a moment before suddenly pulling away as if the girl burnt him. His eyes scan the cafeteria furiously afterwards. Panicked. His eyes roam past Jungkook without recognizing. 

Good!

Jungkook doesn’t know what his initial thoughts about the situation were. But now he is quite sure. Your dear boyfriend is cheating on you. And probably with someone who’s close to you, if she’s the girl Jungkook saw on your profile. 

Jung Hoseok is cheating on you! The fucking bastard is cheating on a woman like you!

See, he knew you deserve much better. 

………………………………

“So…” Daebi drags out while twisting the mascara cap closed. You watch her through the bathroom mirror, applying lip balm to your lips which are drier than Sahara. 

“So what?” You question when she doesn’t complete whatever she was about to say and gets distracted with checking her blemishes instead. You get her attention back to you, successfully. 

“So… you mean this weird guy in a hoodie from your class completed a whole damn report for you and you don’t even know his name yet?” Daebi finally asks. You shrug. 

“Yep. And it isn’t my fault, you know. He just refuses to say his name. I asked him a million times.”

Daebi chuckles. “And you think it’s safe to hang out with someone who refuses to reveal their identity? I mean you haven’t even seen his face?” Turns around and leans against the counter. You scrunch up your face in displeasure. Why does everyone think that a quiet kid is always a danger?

“Don’t be like that Daebi. He’s just shy. Other than that he’s a really nice guy. I mean have you ever met someone who’s willing to do a group assignment all on their own happily. And he doesn’t even want anything in return.” You finish up applying lip balm and place it inside your bag. 

“That’s exactly why you should be careful. People don’t do stuff like that, not anymore at least. There’s always a hidden motivation. Who knows? Maybe he likes you.” Daebi casually inspects her perfectly manicured nails as she states that. A smug smile on her lips. You take a minute at that. Eyes wide. A minute of uncertainty where you consider what she just said. 

Could it be?

Of course not. Your stupid best friend is messing with you. 

“Yah!” You nudge her away with your hip. Makes her giggle. “He literally saw me with Hoseok the other day. He’s just a nice guy.” You turn around as you say. Place your bag and phone on the counter top. Leave them behind knowing Daebi will stay for you.Walk toward one of the stalls. 

“That doesn’t matter dude. He still can be deeply, madly in love with you.” Your best friend shouts after you as you close the bathroom stall’s door behind you, making you reopen it and flip her off. 

………………………

You eye your classmate suspiciously as you sit in your designated spots in the familiar lecture hall. Not that you can see much. His face is mostly covered in his infamous hoodie. By now, you’ve grown mostly comfortable around him. After all, you’ve attended more than five lectures together. He’s still not one of your best friends but you genuinely like him. You may not stay in touch out of this class room but when you’re inside, he’s the best company you could ever wish for. You haven’t asked for his number mainly because you thought he wouldn't like to share it with you. He doesn’t even want to tell you his name. And you find it ridiculous how you two sit next to each other for every lecture but how you still haven’t seen his face.

You’ve grown accustomed to that fact, however. 

You and he have been good to each other. Just two normal people who share a class together. 

Yet today, something feels off. Not that he’s done anything to make you uneasy. Quite the opposite to tell the truth. He’s done nothing at all. You know it’s your stupid best friend's words that are plaguing your mind. You can’t help but let your head get ahead of yourself. Let your mind wander. 

What if what she said was true? 

He’s been so nice to you. Who would volunteer to complete a whole ass group assignment by themselves?

Gosh, you’re being ridiculous now. Not everyone is the same. It doesn’t mean anything just because he did something nice for you. Besides, if he’s really interested he’d at least ask for your number, wouldn’t he? You shouldn’t let Daebi’s delusional ideas get to you. You shake your head to get rid of the silly thoughts. Turn your head to pay attention to the lecture. Which apparently is a good idea but acted upon a little late. Just as you turn your head, you’re met with your professor’s direct gaze landed up on you. Your eyes go slightly wide at the sudden attention.

“Anything interesting on your friend’s face Miss (___)?” He questions while crossing his arms across his chest. 

Oh!

You instantly go red at the professor's words. Cheeks burning. 

Embarrassing. This is oh so fucking embarrassing. And it turns worse when the whole class turns around to look at you. You would very much be glad if the floor could split up and swallow you whole. Unfortunately, that isn’t an option. Hence, your little bow and the muttered apology. 

“I’m sorry professor.” You’re not entirely sure that he heard it. He nods nonetheless. 

“Pay attention child.” 

You’re so relieved when he turns around to continue with the lecture with that. Yet the residue of your embarrassment remains. Your face is still burning, making you press your cold hands across it. Trying to soothe the flaming skin. It’s really hot here. But at least it won’t get any worse-

“You were staring at me?”

Of course, it can get much worse. You know your friend isn’t teasing you. He is not the type to tease. Still it feels like he is taunting. Making fun of you. You turn your gaze down toward your notebook. Wishing you had a hoodie to cover up your face as well. 

“Uh- it’s- it’s not like that, you know. I- I wasn’t staring-”

“I like that you were staring.”

You snap your head toward him so fast that you’re certain you just broke your neck. Mouth agape and eyes wide in surprise.

“What?”

“I would love it if you were looking at me.”

You close your mouth shut. Not knowing what to say. Besides everything, who would admit to such a thing? It's one thing to secretly like something like that but admitting it? 

He’s weird. 

“W-why?”

“Because, I like it.”

He states nonchalantly. Stark opposite to the way someone should say it. 

Wasn't he shy? He was so shy. He is not the kind of person to admit things like that. And this is so sudden. Something doesn’t feel right. Yet you don’t question it. Instead, you just pay your attention back to the lecture silently. Forcing yourself to believe that there is nothing wrong. It’s just your best friend’s words making you think something is up.

Who knows? Maybe he likes you? 

Does he like you?

Is that it?

If that’s the case you might have to make the air clear between you two before things get complicated. You love your boyfriend and you don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. Yet you can’t do that when you’re not certain about his feelings. 

Maybe you should just wait. Wait and see. 

……………………

You nuzzle your nose against your boyfriend’s chest. Whining and complaining. Hoseok chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through his chest in a soothing way.

“Oh gosh! Will you two stop acting like clingy cats? You know I’m fucking allergic to PDA.” Your best friend interrupts your sweet moment as she throws a pillow at you. It hits right across Hoseok’s face. 

“Yah!” He complains in annoyance as you regard your best friend with a scowl in your face. 

“Well this isn’t a public display of affection you idiot. We’re in our house and all of you damn annoying germlings should leave us to ourselves.” You point out the obvious, looking at each of your friends. They all, yet again, are in your sweet home. 

“Not until we come up with a plan for my birthday. This is really awkward, you know?” Daebi munches on some chips before continuing. “That I have to plan my own birthday. I have bunch of damn friends, and no one gives a fuck. I have to fucking surprise myself.” 

“You don’t necessarily give any of us any time to plan anything Daebi. You’ve been planning on your own birthday ever since your last one ended.” Jimin defends you all. You and your other friend Nina can’t help but snort unpleasantly at how true that statement is. Daebi pouts adorably. You think it’s ridiculous that she doesn’t have a boyfriend yet. She is so damn gorgeous and adorable that it’s baffling how boys aren’t swooning over her 24/7. 

“Okay, fine. My bad. I’m so fucking sorry Jimin.” She hisses at Jimin. “But still we need to plan my birthday. Tell me where we should go?” Yet doesn’t back away. All of you sigh frustratedly. Her birthday is a week away but you know she won’t shut up until you come up with a thorough plan. 

“Well, it’s your birthday so you should decide how to celebrate.” You finally pull away from Hoseok’s warm embrace. Daebi lights up instantly.

“Really? And you gonna agree with anything that I come up with?” Asks. You all nod in unison. “Yep.” Nina even adds. “And you won’t say no? Won’t back away at the last minute?” Daebi asks again. “Jesus, woman, we won’t. Go ahead with this shit please.” It’s Nina who mutters irritatedly again. 

“Elysium” This time Daebi doesn’t even blink as she excitedly bellows where she wants to celebrate her birthday. Yet only she looks excited. Aside from her, the entire room falls into a shocked silence. 

“You want to go where now?” Nina leans forward on her seat. Disbelief written all over her features. She asks the exact same question you wanted to ask. 

“The Elysium.” Deabi repeats with a nonchalant shrug. 

“Are you fucking serious Daebi?” Hoseok is the one who questions this time. His brows pulled together. 

“Yep.” Daebi looks around the room. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Looking at you like that? Dude, you want to go to Elysium. The fucking Elysium. Of all the damn places you can choose, you want us to hang out in the shadiest and most dangerous club in the city?” You practically yell at her.

“Oh c’mon, that’s just a myth. It’s a club just like any other club in the city which has a bad reputation due to something some idiot said.” She argues with a straight face. 

“What if it’s not?” Jimin points a finger at her. 

“Then we’ll leave. No biggies. I’m fucking curious about the place guys. C’mon, you promised you won’t say no.” Daebi whines. 

“That was before you chose the fucking Elysium.” You groan. 

“That doesn’t matter. Trust me guys, it’s just another club. Why are you people like this? Let’s live a little, yeah? This is our college life, if we won’t do such things now, when will we?” She gets to her feet. Obviously mad at all of you. Ready to leave. Makes you feel bad but you still can’t agree to go out into the one place everyone should stay away. It’s just common knowledge. It’s undoubtedly an illegal club. Can go inside only with an invitation. Or so people say. So, you have no idea how Daebi plans to go inside even if you all agreed. 

“Okay, fine. But we will leave if anything suspicious happens, okay?” 

Just before Daebi turns around a voice next you adds with a heavy sigh. You snap your head to your right at light speed at the same time Daebi stops on her track. You gape at Hoseok in utter pure disbelief. 

“Really?” Daebis asks slowly.

“Really?” You shout loudly.

Hoseok turns to you first.

“I mean, it really can be a rumor baby. We’ll go inside, and if anything seems off, we’ll leave right away.” He assures you despite the uncertainty laced in his face. 

“Ha! We’re about to die on the day Daebi was born. What a way to go.” Jimin snickers before he gets up and disappears inside your kitchen. You look at Nina, hoping to have some back up on your side. She sighs heavily. 

“I really don’t know guys. As long as you keep me safe, I’m down.” She gets up as well. 

“No but-” You turn to Hoseok again. “You got nothing to be afraid of, baby. I Got you. C’mon it’s just for this once and she’s your best friend.”

He snakes a hand around your shoulders and pulls you into his body. Places a soft kiss in your hair. You squeeze your eyes shut in frustration. You swear you want to argue. Say no. But Hoseok has this soft spot inside your heart that makes it impossible for you to say no. 

Gosh this is so fucking annoying!

“Please.” Hoseok plants another kiss on your cheek. Then another. Another plea. And you’re melting. 

“Okay.” You relent at the seventh kiss to be precise. “But I swear to god Daebi-” You try to speak over the squeals Daebi is letting out. “-I’m gonna kill you both if anything happens. Yah! Are you listening to me?” You shout through the top of your lungs. Just to get ignored. Hoseok shakes you softly in his hold. You give up trying to negotiate. A smile creeps across your lips as your other two friends join you back again. 

“Still, you can’t go in without an invitation Daebi. How are we gonna manage that? Break in? Oh, God please don’t tell me that’s what you want.” Jimin points out a very valid question, sitting back with another packet of chips. Great. 

“Just leave that to me.” Daebi chirps excitedly. Everyone regards her with curious looks. Waits till she clarifies further. She doesn’t. Just smiles mischievously. Guess she has her ways and knowing Daebi, you know she won’t tell you even if you begged. So, you all leave that up to her. Just like she asks. 

……………………………

You knot the trash bag tightly. A sigh escapes your mouth as you pick it up to take outside. Despite how annoying it was to have your friends over at your place all the time, it gets a little bit lonely when no one is around. Your entire apartment feels hollow. So empty and quiet that the sound of a needle dropping would echo as a bomb detonating. You would’ve appreciated the peace if Hoseok was here, though. 

You click your tongue in annoyance, making your way toward the front door. All you want is one alone moment with your boyfriend without your friends around. And in the one time you get such a chance, Hoseok has to leave you alone for- in his words- much needed boys night. You asked Daebi to come over tonight, but it turns out she was busy for the first time in her life. 

Guess you are alone for the night. 

Crisp night air kisses your face the moment you exit the apartment building. You  shudder a little. You hate taking trash out but it was becoming unavoidable. The entire apartment was starting to smell like rotten cabbage slowly. That was your cue to tidy up the place. Hence, you’re using your one peaceful, lonely, shitty night to do just that. You open the lid of the trash bin and throw the bag inside. Trying not to breathe so the disgusting smell won’t reach your innocent nostrils. You close back the lid faster as possible. Drag in a deep breath when you do and turn around absentmindedly. 

“Hey!”

You jolt so hard that you almost lose your balance. A very inhuman scream escapes your throat. Your hands immediately go up to cover your face in a pitiful attempt of protecting yourself. 

“Shit! I’m so sorry. It’s just me.” A voice reaches you at the same time a pair of hands are shot up in a surrendering position. 

You instinctively step back. It takes your startled brain a good long minute to register what’s happening. To register the figure in front of you who suddenly emerges there. First thing you notice is a black hood. Then all you notice is black. Black clothing from head to toe. Face hidden behind that hood. 

No Name!

You exhale a shaky breath in relief. 

Fuck! You had thought that you died. 

“No Name? What the fuck! I nearly died, dude.” You finally manage to mumble in between your shaky breaths. Your head is still throbbing and your heart is running a marathon. 

“S-sorry. Didn't mean to scare you.” He meekly mutters with a gentle nod in his head. That makes you calm down completely. It’s just him. So, you nod in return. Place your hands on your hips. Let out a final breath of relief. Open your mouth to ask what the hell he is doing here when he starts looking for something inside his pants pocket. Few more seconds and he is stretching his palm out for you. A wallet placed on his outstretched palm. A pink one to be precise. A familiar one. Very. 

Wait! That’s yours. 

Your eyes go wide as you recognize your wallet. Hell, you hadn’t even realized it was missing until now. When did you lose it? Today? Yesterday? When did you last see him? How did he find it?

“I-is that mine?” You ask dumbly when you already know it’s yours. “H-how?” Ask again without any effort to take the wallet in your hand. 

“You left it in class the other day.” He answers simply. You blink at his face. That can’t be true. It’s been more than two days since your last lecture and there’s no way you were so oblivious to the fact that your wallet is missing. How come you never noticed?

But then again, he has it in his hands. There’s no other way for it to be in his possession. Maybe you accidentally left it there. Hoseok or someone else always paid for your food and stuff. Maybe you didn’t have to use your wallet. Or not. You’re not sure. You can’t remember. Using your wallet is such a normal and typical day to day activity that your brain hasn’t memorized the times or places you used it. 

“O-okay.” You hesitantly accept his answer in the end. Slowly take the wallet in your hand. “Th-thank you.” Show your gratitude with a deep bow. He just nods again. A silence falls as you awkwardly stare at the man who is standing before you when a sudden question pops up in your head. “Wait!” You perk up. “How did you..? Uh- how do you know where I live?” You ask, suddenly alert.  You’re pretty certain that you haven’t told him your address before. 

“Uh…” He  hesitates for a minute. Then a shrug. “Your friend.” Says making you even more confused. 

“Friend?” So you question back. Brows furrowed. 

“Your best friend. She told me she’s your best friend.”

“Daebi?”

“I guess so.”

“How did you meet her?” His answers don't ease your confusion but make it worse. Nothing makes sense to you. 

“Today at the cafeteria. I saw you together once on the campus. I-uh so I reached her when I saw her today.”

Oh, that makes sense. Only that Daebi failed to let you know about it. She should let you know when someone reached her and ask her about your whereabouts. But this is Daebi. She doesn’t think things through even just to save her life. Of course, she just gave away your address to someone like that. Good thing it’s just him. You sigh in defeat this time. Nod.

“Okay. Thank you again.” You finally smile at him. “You helped me again. Uh- I didn’t even notice that this was gone.” Show him your wallet. “Thank you so much Mr. No Name.” Ease up enough to joke around. Another bow. Another smile and then back to being awkward. “Uh..” You stall, staring at him. Not knowing what to do. “Um.. do you like… uh, wanna come inside?” You blurt out in the end. Yep. That’s the right thing to do. True, you don’t know him well besides the few times you met him at the classes. But you know him, nonetheless. He even finished your report for you. And now he brought your wallet which you didn’t know was missing. 

He takes a minute. Then nods. 

……………………

“Would you like a drink?” You ask your nameless classmate, already rummaging through the fridge. Receive no answer which forces you to turn around. “No Name?” You quip, feeling amused to see him looking around like a lost kitten. Funny, how you still haven’t seen his face. Only tidbits here and there. Now as he’s looking up, you catch a glimpse of a chiseled jaw. Only for a moment because he snaps his head toward you at your voice. 

“Where’s your boyfriend?” 

He catches you off guard with that question. 

“Huh?”

“Your boyfriend? Where is he?” That’s the most this nameless, faceless guy has talked with you. And he asks such questions. You almost think there’s an underlying demand in his tone. You’re hearing it wrong probably.

“Out with the boys. Why?” So, you answer him anyway.

Of course, he doesn’t answer your question again. You wait for a few beats to pass hoping he’d continue the topic but when he doesn’t you decide to let it go. “So, do you want anything to drink? I have beer here. Or if you want anything-”

“What about your friend? The one I met. Your best friend.” He interrupts your little drinks offering. Nearly makes you mad about how he disregards your questions but interrogates you in return, as if he has any rights. 

“Why are you asking?” This time you don’t answer. 

“You don’t know?” 

“‘Course I do. But why would you want to know?” You’re slowly getting irritated. 

“Just asking. Because you’re alone here.” He answers so innocently that you instantly feel bad for feeling irritated even for a second.

“She has some assignments to finish.” 

He nods in response to your answer. End of that conversation. Right? But you swear you feel that it isn’t finished. As if he has more to say but is trying to keep it shut. There's a sudden tension that fills the air. You feel uncomfortable. Something seems off. Maybe it’s because of the fact that he doesn't normally talk this much. Or the fact he has appeared on your doorway with a wallet that you didn’t know was lost. Or simply you’re being ridiculous. Or-

“You’re really pretty!” If his previous questions caught you off guard, this one leaves you tongue-tied. Your mouth goes into a perfect shape of ‘o’. That is so sudden. Completely out of the blue.

Is that normal? Do people say stuff like that to others? 

“What?” When someone compliments you, the right thing to do is thank them. But this feels abnormal. 

“You’re really pretty. And I’d like to have a beer.”

Oh!

It’s very rare when you don’t know how to act or what to say. This apparently is one of those rare moments. So, you simply nod and hand him over a beer. Wait uneasily until he finishes it, in hope that he'll leave afterward. You want him to leave because you’re in discomfort. Something isn’t right. You can sense it. He doesn’t leave, however. No matter how long you wait, drowning in that uncomfortable silence, staring at his black hoodie, he doesn’t even show a sign of wanting to leave. If anything, he shifts uncomfortably in his position a few times. You note how he clutches the beer can tightly. He definitely has something to ask you. And you’re getting impatient. 

“Uh.. are you, um…” He leaves you with no other options but to ask. 

“I have a favour to ask.”

You knew it!

You’re surprised again, though. Never thinking that it was about a favor. But at least this makes it a little bit less awkward. Better than engaging in an alone staring competition. “Oh yeah? What is it?” You’re honestly happy to help him. He did that report for you after all. 

“Are you free tomorrow?”

“In the morning, yes. Why?” You furrow your brows. 

“Want to go out for a coffee with me?”

You thought surprises are over. Thought he was just complimenting you generally. Now, this doesn’t feel like that. Suddenly, Daebi’s voice haunts your mind again.  

Who knows? Maybe he likes you.

No. This can’t be that. He’s just asking. Like a friend. And you are fully allowed to decline the invitation. Which you should because you feel weird. Weird about something you can’t quite decipher. 

You inhale a shaky breath, preparing yourself to decline his offer. Mentally going through all the excuses you can offer when a sudden sound disrupts you both. Both of you snap your heads to where the sound came. Undoubtedly that was the sound of the front door opening. Makes you confused since no one would come here around this hour. You almost walk out of the kitchen thinking maybe it’s Daebi when your assumptions come wrong as the person who just entered your apartment just walks over to the kitchen.

“Hoseok?” You exclaim in surprise. It’s not even past 10 at night and you can’t believe he’s home this early. When they go out, he doesn’t usually come home at all for the night. This is a nice surprise. Even a gentle smile spreads across your face. You hurry over to your boyfriend. Just to stop after a few steps. Brows furrowing at the sight of your boyfriend scowling deep. It looks like something happened. Yet before you could ask, Hoseok turns away from you. His scowl deepens.

“You have company?” He grumbles, making you turn around as well. A figure standing in the middle of the kitchen comes to your vision. 

Oh, you forgot the presence of your classmate. 

“Oh, he was just bringing me my lost wallet.” You explain quickly.

“You lost your wallet?” Hoseok pays his attention back to you. 

“Well, I didn’t know that I lost it but apparently I have and he-”

“You didn’t know you'd lost your wallet.” Hoseok snaps suddenly and a quick jerk ripples through you. It’s rare when he gets mad. You quickly glance at the stranger in your house. Hoseok and you need to have this conversation later. He’s probably in a foul mood and letting it out on you. You gulp harshly before turning to the visitor. 

“Hey! I would- uh- see you in the next class. Thank you again for bringing my wallet. That’s so nice of you.” You still don’t want to appear rude and give him the impression that you want to get rid of him. You have no other choice though. Luckily for you Hoseok doesn’t intervene. He says nothing as you walk your friend back to the door. Says nothing nor does follow you until you bid goodbye to your nameless friend and return back to the kitchen. Only after then he speaks again.                    

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing (__)?” He lashes at you the moment you return to the kitchen. Makes you furrow your brows in mild annoyance.

“What?” You still try your best not to get mad and just talk this through. 

“Inviting some stranger inside?” 

“He’s no stranger. He’s this kid from my class. You even met him once and he was my partner on that darn assignment.”

“Yeah? The kid who you don’t even know the name of?”

Well, you have no answer for that. Maybe even when the guy wasn’t telling you his name, you should’ve at least tried to figure it out on your own. “See?” Hoseok continues in your silence. “He’s fucking weird (___). I mean, who the fuck keeps their face hidden all the damn time. And why the fuck he can’t tell you his name? Who is he? A fucking spy?” You watch at your boyfriend’s reddened face in partial anger and partial surprise. You don’t think that he should really make it that much of a big deal after all. “And you decided to invite him inside while you’re all alone?” He grits making you finally snap. 

“Yeah, and who’s fault was that?”

“Oh now it’s my fault? What is this now? I can’t even go out with my friends?”

“For fucks sake Hoseok! What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing. I’m just fucking mad to see my girlfriend is hanging out with this weird man when I come home.”

“He’s not fucking weird. Gosh, you guys are all so fucking mean.” You yell so loud that Hoseok instantly shuts his mouth before you turn around on your heel. Leaving him alone in the kitchen and making a beeline toward your bedroom. See, it’s not that you really wanted to defend No Name against your boyfriend. He was weird to tell the truth. You were so uncomfortable with him and are so glad that Hoseok made an appearance right at the time. Yet, the fact Hoseok isn’t clearly interested in your well being but just letting out something else on you makes you so angry. Hence your sudden outburst. 

You don’t even look back as you storm into your shared bedroom and slam the door shut behind you. Hoseok can sleep on the couch tonight. 

………………….

This has been the longest you’ve fought with each other. Ever since you started dating, which wasn’t that long ago, you haven’t really fought except for a little argument here and there. Now, after a week of tiptoeing around each other, you feel like shit. It’s completely your fault, to be honest. Hoseok had knocked on your bedroom door and apologized right away. Had begged you to open the door. It was you- stupid, stubborn- you who had started another fight right that moment. And Hoseok hadn’t apologized after that. Which is very fair. If someone has to apologise, it should be you. Something that you’ve failed to bring yourself to do so far. 

You sigh wearily as the professor starts today’s lecture. You’re once again seated on the far end of the lecture hall. Next to the very same guy who caused a fight with your boyfriend. The same guy who made you feel so uneasy and asked you out for a coffee. You’ve convinced yourself he only meant it as a friendly gesture. It was your shameless twisted mind that had misunderstood it. And you’ve decided to ignore the way he called you pretty. That’s why you’ve decided to sit at your usual seat. 

Despite everything, things have been going normally with No Name for your pleasure. He hasn’t acknowledged you really. Which is how normally it is and you’re pleased. You’ve asked him how his day was and he has only just nodded. See, he was just being nice and it was you who made it awkward that day. You mentally slapped yourself for the millionth time at the thought of how wrong you were to interpret something like that. 

Everything will definitely be okay if you just apologize to your boyfriend. You plan to do that tonight. Before going to celebrate Daebi’s birthday. It’s finally the day and you really didn’t have a time to dread the moment. Because you were actively busy with being mad at your boyfriend, you forgot to be afraid of going into a shady club tonight. 

Well, all the more reasons to apologize to your boyfriend before you die tonight. 

“Is he still mad at you?” The voice is so unexpected that your body does a mini jolt. Your head snaps to your left where your new friend sits. “Your boyfriend.” He clarifies without you asking. You chuckle nervously, wishing it would sound like scoffing. 

“Why would he be mad?” Ask in return. 

“Because I was there. Did he ask you to stop seeing me?” 

You take your time at that question. You think it’s impressive how he really knows Hoseok was mad because he was there. Yet, that question feels personal. You’re not that close to discussing things like this.

“Of course, no.” You scoff this time for real. “Why would he do that? He was just upset about something that happened with his friends.” You explain though there is no reason to do such a thing. Your friend just hums. 

And there it comes again. A feeling that there is something he’s not telling you. Like he knows something you don’t. It wasn’t about the coffee, was it? No. This is something else. You badly want to question what it is but the class ends before you could. And you change your mind after that. It would sound crazy if you ask something like that anyway. Yet the feeling never ceases. It hangs in the air while you walk back out. It hangs between you when you bid goodbye and be ready to part your ways. It hangs in your mind even when you turn around and walk a few steps away and hear him calling for you suddenly. 

You turn around curiously. 

“What about the coffee?” He shouts aloud since you’re too far across to talk in a normal voice. 

Again?

“I-uh…” You’ve really hoped that he’d forgotten it by now. That he’d let it go. You hate when you have to turn down people. You’re a people pleaser. 

“That’s fine if you don’t want to.” He shouts back while you just try to come up with something. You almost take a step forward. A sincere apology is at just the tip of your tongue. “See you later (___)!” Yet he beats you to it. Turns around and walks away. Leaving you to just gape at his retrieving back. 

You feel uneasy. An uneasy feeling. But what’s most annoying is the fact that you really can’t pinpoint it. Yet still it is there. He knows something that you don’t.

………………………… 

You stand near the bar adjusting the hem of your short dress. Trying to pull it down. You chose this dress and there’s no one else to blame but your stupid self. After a few useless attempts you give up. You stand beside Nina. All of your other friends, including your boyfriend, have gone for a smoke. 

“It looks okay? Isn’t it?” Nina snaps you out of your thoughts. You scan the dimly lit club for what must be the hundredth time before answering her. “I mean yeah. Like it looks okay but who knows?” You’re still not completely on board for this idea. If it weren’t for Daebi, you’d rather study your entire degree all over again than be here. True, it really looks like a normal club- just duller than the ones you’ve previously visited and crowded with much older people than young college kids. Yet that doesn’t mean this is an illegal club where all these people are criminals in one way or another. 

Daebi can be completely correct. This reputation Elysium has can be just a myth. Something someone made up. Something people like to believe because of the invitation system. You still have no idea how Daebi managed to get you an invitation. She somehow did and now you’re standing here stupidly. 

“Ugh, I’m pretty sure nothing’s wrong. All of these people look normal.” Nina adds after your negative response.

“Of course, they are Nina. What do you expect? For these people to kill each other?”

She tries to counter but stops when Jimin joins you back. Closely followed by the birthday girl and Hoseok. You and Hoseok haven’t made up yet. This time it’s his fault. You’ve tried your best to apologize and resolve the issue. It was him who had avoided you saying you should talk about this later. Now you would have to wait until the night is over to patch things up with him.

“See guys? Told you it’s just a myth. This is just another normal club with lots of drinks.” Daebi squeals. Walks to you and drapes an arm around your shoulder. 

“How would you know for sure?” You shrug her hand off. You still feel off. Something feels off. Call it a gut feeling. Maybe this feeling has nothing to do with this place since you’ve been feeling this way for quite some time now. Ever since the day Mr. No Name brought your wallet to your house. Daebi clicks her tongue. 

“Look around you (__),” She grabs your chin to forcefully make you do as she asks. You take brief glances over at people drinking, dancing, grinding, kissing, making out and doing every other thing they would do in a club. “Can you see anything illegal happening?” Asks. No. That’s the answer. But why on the earth your friends can’t understand that dangers don’t always lie on the surface. These people might seem harmless but there's a fat possibility that someone is carrying a gun in their front pant pocket. Casually. Just like someone would carry their mobile. You try to tell the exact same thing. Hoseok interrupts you before you can, however. 

“Oh c’mon, (__). Just fucking loosen up a bit. You don’t have to kill the mood every time. Just grab a drink and have fun.” He barks, making you completely speechless. Really? Shouldn’t he take your side? You would’ve gotten really mad at him again if it wasn’t for Jimin just reassuringly patting your shoulder. 

“Hey, it’s really fine (__). We won’t keep you in a dangerous place. C’mon, let’s have a drink.” He guides you toward the bar with the hand on your shoulder. You throw a disappointed glance at Hoseok, which he disregards completely. As if you don’t exist at this moment. 

“You guys go ahead, I just want to use the bathroom.” Instead he mumbles. Turns around and almost leaves when Daebi perks up. 

“Me too. Coming?” She asks Nina. Not you. Well, that’s fine.

“Nah. Just go ahead.” Nina turns to you. Daebi gives a ‘whatever’ kind of nod before disappearing after Hoseok. 

………………………

Night officially started for your party over an hour ago. Yet you aren’t even tipsy. Haven’t even started to feel it. Fair, considering that you’ve been sipping the same glass of wine ever since Jimin brought it to you. This is not how you normally act. It’s unfair of Hoseok to say you always ruin the fun. You know how to have fun. You and he always have fun. An involuntary pout graces your features at the reminder of his hurtful words. It’s just you don’t feel it tonight. At this specific place. You really wish your boyfriend would just understand that. 

You take another small sip from your glass of wine. Alone at the bar. All of your friends have gone to enjoy the night with whatever they like to do. You can see Nina and Jimin rocking it on the dance floor from where you are seated. Hoseok and Daebi, however, are nowhere to be seen. Makes you really worried. You want to make sure everyone is okay. You want to keep an eye on each and everyone. 

A frown appears on your forehead after you try in vain to catch a sign of your boyfriend or best friend for the ninth time .  Maybe you should just give up and get completely wasted. 

Yes you should just do that. 

With one last heavy sigh you bring the glass to your lips. Almost succeed when a sharp voice interrupts you. 

“You might want to slow down with that, young lady.” You just avert your gaze to the owner of that voice. A man. Probably a lot older than you. You disregard his presence and his words as you down the entire glass. “Woah!” He exclaims with an amused smile. 

You intend to ignore him further. That’s your plan. Yet you still give him a polite smile just so you won’t come out like a rude bitch. A mistake. 

“Next drink is on me but take it slow beauty.” He mumbles in a way which you know that he thinks is charming but sounds comical to your ears. Already turns to the pretty bartender. “One more-”

“No thanks. I’m good.” You stop him before he can continue, drawing his attention back to you.

“Why not?”

“I’m just not in a mood to drink.”

“Now, that is a very obvious lie. You were drinking wine like it was water sun shine. You’re hurting my feelings. Don’t be like that. Let’s just have one drink.” You should’ve thought more about the lies you tell. Too late now. But you really don’t want to accept a drink from a stranger. He doesn’t look shady but just a little bit older. It’s just you haven’t completely let your guard down. You shake your head while almost standing up to leave.

“I’m really good. Thank you.” 

Almost. Even before you can place your feet properly on the floor a glass of wine is placed in front of you with a loud thud. You gasp at the unexpected sound. Take a moment to realize what’s just happened. That’s only when you turn your head to look at the man’s face. Dark. Not a single sign of a smile. Your throat goes dry instantly. 

“No one says ‘no’ to me princess. A bitch should know her place after all. Now drink up.”

What now?

You gape at the man as if he has grown two heads. This is not good. You should leave immediately. But the man doesn’t look like he’d appreciate you suddenly leaving. You shift your gaze from his face to the drink that has been put on the counter. Then back to the man. He raises a menace eyebrow. You have no idea what he would do to you if you refuse again. You’ve met your fair share of drunken assholes while clubbing. Yet all those assholes were just pathetic college kids and nobody has ever called you a bitch. No one. 

This man must’ve looked normal a minute ago but now he seems like someone who could kill someone with his bare hands. “Drink up you little whore.” He suddenly spits out. You inhale a shaky breath. Maybe you shouldn’t show any weakness. Maybe you should argue and stand up and leave with your head held high. But then for your great dismay you undoubtedly notice the silver of metal glinting from the pocket of his coat. If you think your throat went dry earlier now you’re certain you’ve eaten sand. Heart is starting to beat madly. Head is starting to pound violently. 

You were right after all. This place wasn’t just having a negative reputation. It’s true. What you’re just seeing in his pocket is undoubtedly a grip of a gun. You’ve never seen one in real life but the movies exist. You know it’s a gun. And somehow you know it’s not just a plaything. 

Act cool. Act cool.

You shouldn’t show that you’re scared.

You eye the drink again. Mind swirling around all the possibilities that would occur if you try to just leave. What could he do? Shoot? There are people around here. He wouldn’t be able to get away after firing at a college girl. Would he now? You decide you don’t want to find out. It’s your life. You can’t take a risk. It’s just a drink after all. You can just drink it and then find an excuse to leave. With that thought you just don’t waste any time. Just grab the drink and drown it in one go, hoping that’d be the end of the ordeal. But of course who were you kidding, after all. Just as the glass is emptied, it is filled to the brim again. Then again. And at the fourth drink you decide to slow down, understanding that you downing drinks faster than a thunder won’t be of any help for you at all. 

“There you go princess. See, it wasn’t that hard now.” The older man smiles at you which looks like an ugly sneer to you. It must be more than half an hour now. Where the hell are your friends? On top of all, where the hell is your so-called boyfriend? Why’s no one coming to save you? You take a brief glance at the dance floor for what must be the hundredth time. No sign of Jimin or Nina. They’ve disappeared somewhere in between your first encounter with this man and your first drink. It looks like you’re all on your own at this rate. You’d have to come up with something. 

“Guess so.. Yeah.” You take another harsh sip. Nervously. Trying to hide the tremble in your hands. “Would you mind if I go to the restroom quickly?” You question hoping him to not take your bait at all. Hundred presently. But then your eyes go completely wide at his response. “Of course not. Why are you even asking?” A chuckle escapes his lips. You, however, don’t wait to ponder your sudden luck. Just as the words leave his mouth you’re on your feet. Already on a half run toward where your head turns. You don’t even check where the bathrooms are. Just in desperate hope to find at least one of your stupid friends. Then just leave this damned place. You may have lucked out once, but that doesn’t mean you will again. You need to get the hell out of this place. 

………………..

You rush through the sweaty bodies. Pushing past annoyed people. Your head throbbing painfully. Maybe you’ve drunk too much. Even your sight is getting blurry. You look around in panic. Still no sign of your friends. You’re starting to feel nauseous. Something doesn’t feel right. So far, you've been lucky that the scary man hasn’t followed you. Yet everything feels far scarier to you suddenly. Every man and woman you pass. Every glance they cast your way. Every word they murmur. They all look like they’re about to kill you. Your heart pounds in your ears now. You barely can hear the loud music over the roar in your own ears. 

Where are they?

Where the fuck are they?

You mumble an apology to another man you accidentally bump into.

“Watch where you’re going, you little tramp!” He spits. You shrink away instantly. Your headache is intensifying. In your haste to get away from him you bump into someone else. 

“Holy shit!” You turn around to find a woman. Her drink has spilled all over her. You probably did that. You try to apologize but she shoves you away before you could. “Move!” Shouts as she does. You lose your balance at the force. Or not. Maybe she didn’t push you that hard, but you’re too drunk to stay on your feets. Your hands try in vain to grab something when you stumble back. You brace for the impact, but it never comes. Instead your back hits something, or someone, saving you from presumably hitting your head. You almost let out a sigh in relief. Almost though. Even before you can begin, you are turned around harshly by your arm.  

A whimper escapes you. It’s the same man who called you a tramp. One look at his furious face tells you that you’ve fucked up.

“S-sorry.” You mumble so fast that you stutter pathetically. It’s like your word doesn’t even reach him, however. 

“The fuck’s wrong with ya?” He growls. His grip tightens. 

Oh, no, no, no. 

How did you escape one danger only to end up in another? Why can’t you be careful? Why can’t you just walk straight? 

“I- I’m so-”

“Can’t even walk straight, huh? Stumblin’ round like some dumb bitch lookin’ for trouble.” 

You really want to say no. Want to argue. But his words are slowly drifting away. Like he’s moving farther away from you. 

“What? Too drunk to speak now?” His fingers dig into your arm, yanking you forward. His stinking breath hits your nostrils. You’re going to throw up. 

Oh god what’s happening?

You’re sweating like a pig. Sounds around you are getting overwhelming. People’s voices are echoing inside your skull. 

Why can’t you find anyone?

Why is this place getting hotter?

“Or…. is this your way of hitting on me you little minx? That it? Ain’t gotta go fallin’ all over me like some desperate little slut. Shoulda just asked, sweetheart.” The gruff man’s voice suddenly comes into your senses. 

No. No..

What is he even talking about?

You try to protest weakly. Try to disagree. But words don’t come out. Your throat is burning. So is your chest. Things don’t make sense to you. Yet at the same time you know you’re in danger. Warning alarms ring inside your head. And your head nearly explodes in panic when the man starts to drag you forward. Away from the crowd. 

“No..” You finally find your voice. It’s strained. As if you’ve not used it for years. Sounds like it’s not yours. “No..” You try to yank your arm free to no avail. The man’s grip is like iron. Besides, you're in no position to fight. 

Could a few glasses of wine do this?

This is not the first time you got drunk. You’ve certainly drunk more than this but have never felt this way. Too fucked up. Too out of it. You have no control over your body. Just your mind in high alert and trying to escape. 

“No. Let me go.” Still, you keep trying. Keep trying to free yourself from the harsh, disgusting hand on your arm. It doesn’t work. God, it doesn’t work. Before you know, you are dragged into an empty backroom. Before you know, the man pushes you into a wall. You hit the concrete behind you with a loud thud. A sharp jolt of pain shoots across your body at the collision. As if your spine just snapped. You yelp in pain which he disregards completely.

Instead of worrying about your possible broken back, he instantly throws himself at you. You do your best to turn your head away just before his chapped lips can land on yours. Makes him mad apparently. He snarls something you really don’t hear. But you certainly do feel the sting when his palm hits your face. A loud gasp leaves past your lips. Weak limbs come forward to fight with a man who’s strong like a bull. You try to push the scumbag away. Try to claw at his arm, face, any place you find. 

It doesn’t work.

You’re too weak.

The man tangles his rough fingers in your hair. Yanks your head back. You cry out. You can’t even scream. He holds your head in place. You writhe in your place. Trying desperately to wrench yourself away. Your mind screams the words you can’t get out. 

No… Don’t. 

You don’t even realize that you’ve been crying. At least not until you start to taste your own tears. 

None of your efforts succeeds. You feel his breath on your face first. Then his dry lips ghosts over yours. Bile rises in your throat. A strangled sob finds its way out. You close your eyes tightly. Finally accepting the defeat. Brace yourself to feel his rotten lips engulfing yours whole. But then just a millisecond before that happens, you hear a loud groan. Groan in a painful way. 

Something wet splashes across your face. 

Something hot. 

You snap your eyes open. Just in time to find the man being yanked back by a figure. Your attacker's hand leaves your body and hair. This time, instead of grabbing you, he clutches his own neck with both hands. Grumbling. Gurgling. 

It takes your shocked brain a minute to understand anything. 

A long minute.

Then you see blood. Red, hot blood. Dripping down from your attacker's throat to the floor. Seeping through his fingers. His hands are covered in bright red. Then you hear the choked, wet gasps he is leaving out. 

Blood.

Wounded.

You didn’t know it is possible to feel more scared. More terrified. Yet here you are. Eyes wide in horror and not being able to breathe properly. 

Blood.

Blood.

Blood.

Only one word rings inside your head. Blood everywhere. It was blood that splashed in your face. You press yourself more against the wall desperately just as the man falls into the floor. A loud thud erupts. Your eyes naturally follow the movement. Catching the gruesome image of him writhing on the dirty floor. And you see that a sleek silver metal is buried in the side of his throat. Blood oozing from where it’s swallowed by torn flesh.

A chopstick!

Your heart rate slows down. Vision is starting to turn dark. Your hands unconsciously come up to cover your own mouth. Legs give up. You fall down halfway against the wall when a second figure lunges at the man on the floor. In a blink of an eye the second man pulls out the chopstick from your attacker's neck. Makes blood stream down like a waterfall. Then even without a second thought the newcomer pierces the chopstick through the first’s shoulder. A loud scream erupts from the first. Yet does nothing to stop the man with the chopstick. He pulls it out again. Attacks the other’s chest. Pulls out again. Then stabs a different spot. 

“How” Pulls out again. “Dare” Stabs again. “You.” Pulls out. “Fucking” Stabs. “Touch” Pulls out. “Her.” Stabs. Stabs. Stabs. Blood splashing everywhere. Each time a new spot. Merciless weak cries fill the air. 

And your hands fail to keep your mouth shut anymore. This time who lets out a weak scream which is nothing but a pathetic whimper turns out to be you. Your eyes wide in horror and body trembling like a leaf in a storm. Yet no matter how weak the sound you make, he hears it nonetheless. 

The second man who just pulled out the chopstick once more and ready to attack the man back stops dead at your sound. 

Fuck! Fuck, fuck. 

You shouldn’t have screamed.

You shouldn’t have grabbed the attention.

It’s already too late, however. That second someone turns his head back. Toward you. A second pass. And at the same time you almost turn around to run away he gets to his feet, abandoning the now wounded man whimpering and crying on the floor. Drops the chopstick to the floor and it clatters against the dirty concrete. Your delayed attempt to run is futile as a pair of hands wrap around you tight. Before you can even make a sound, your face is buried in a broad, heaving chest, its rapid heartbeat pounding against your ear. You yet again fail to make sense of the situation.

What’s happening?

“I’m so sorry. I was a bit late. So sorry (__).” 

A voice reaches you. A voice that is breathless. Hands protectively wrapped around your shaking body.

Your brain instantly falls into an alerting mode. The first thought that crosses your mind is that this person is going to hurt you too. Hence, your weak and pathetic attempt to wriggle free. Of course, it doesn’t work. It won’t work. You’re still very much in the same state you’ve been a minute ago. Still too out of it. If anything, you feel more vulnerable now. Growing weaker and weaker by every passing second. 

The newcomer, however, starts to gently rock you. Trying to soothe your trembling, writhing body. Shushing you softly. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just me (__). It’s just me.”

You have no idea who this me is. At least for a second you don’t. Then somewhere in the back of your mind a bell rings. A familiar voice, isn’t it? You’ve heard it before. So close. You know this person. You know him, to be precise. 

With a great struggle against his vice hold you manage to turn your head up to catch sight of a black hoodie. You can’t see a face because the face is covered in the said hoodie. You inhale a shaky breath as you recognize him. Sure, you watched him before but it’s only now that things are registering in your mind. 

“N-no n-name?” 

“Yeah,” He holds you tightly again. You think you hear a hint of joy in his voice. “Yeah, it’s just me. It’s fine. Calm down baby.” He murmurs in your ear. 

Baby?

Your panicked mind runs a mile a minute to make sense of the situation. How quickly things are happening. You were just fine half an hour ago. With your friends. And then this happens? And he is here? Why is he here? 

It’s just me…

It’s just fine…

Fine !Fine?

What’s fine? Someone tried to fucking assault you. And that someone is now half- dead. He- your damn classmate- brutally attacked him, didn’t he? It’s like a whole another realization that dawns upon you. He stabbed that man with a fucking chopstick. Mr. No Name- a college kid who is just like you did that. 

Oh, god!

This can’t be happening right now. You need space. Can’t breathe. You want him to move. Don’t want him touching you. He has blood on his hands.

True, he saved you by doing so. If it weren’t for him, you’d be lying somewhere, unable to fight back, facing the cruelest fate. You’re a teeny bit glad but nonetheless you’re scared to death. A man is dying in front of your eyes. You saw a man with a pierced throat. You saw blood spurting out of his body. Eyes open and becoming soulless. 

And the person who caused that,- this kid is saying to you that it’s fine. 

No! Nothing’s fine. You want to run away. You need someone who you can truly trust. Need your boyfriend. Need Daebi. Someone who’s not a murderer. You try to push him away. He, however, doesn’t take the hint. Instead of letting you go, he hugs you into his body even tighter. 

“It’s fine baby. Just calm down. I’m so sorry.” He places a hand on the back of your head. Holds you so close. So gently. As if you’re made of fine china. As if you’d break if he touches you a little rougher. Buries his face in your neck. His breath hits your skin soothingly. Rocks you ever so gently. Oh, so gently that you almost calm down. Despite all the chaos and the horror of what he’s done, you find sudden solace in his arms. Maybe that’s because you’re familiar with him. Or it’s just how he holds you. Allowing you to sob into his chest. Whatever that is, it could’ve worked perfectly if it wasn't for his next actions. If it wasn’t for the sudden hot, wetness you feel on your neck. And his shaky breath. You snap out of the false sense of protection you’ve been feeling instantly at the sensation of his lips pressing against your skin. Ready to move away. 

He doesn’t let you. 

“I’m so sorry.” He murmurs again. 

“Wh-what are you.. Le-let me?” You stutter. Your still confused, frozen brain struggles to react. You’re so slow on your movements that your efforts on moving away does nothing but expose more of your skin for him to pepper with soft-wet kisses. He kisses every inch of skin he can find. Over and over again. As if he’s going mad. 

“So sorry, princess.” He mumbles as if it's some kind of mantra. In between his sloppy kisses. Nuzzles your neck with his nose. Inhales. Groans. Like he’s getting drunk on your smell.

No. 

Oh shit!

He likes you. 

It’s too late now. You’ve waited too long. 

Why does that matter now? 

What are you even thinking?

What matters is the fact that a person is dying. You can still hear the gasps he’s letting out. You can still hear the sound of blood flowing out his weak body.  

He killed a man. He’s kissing you over a dying man’s body. You shut your eyes tight. In a desperate attempt to find strength. To escape reality. As if everything would change once you open your eyes. Yet as soon as you close your eyes, your mind is plagued with blood. Splitted throat. Wet chokes. 

A cry tangles in your throat as you open your eyes back.

You want to run away. Want to hide. You’re going to be sick. 

But then his warm lips press on your pulse point. And regardless of your horrified state a shudder ripples through you. A sensation that almost makes your toes curl.

What? What’s happening?

How come you feel that way when you’re so scared? How is it that your body doesn’t comply with your mind? 

“Y-you ca-can’t-” Another failed attempt. Another bunch of words that don’t even reach his ears. He seriously can’t be doing that now? Among million other reasons why he can’t, the fact that he almost killed a damn man holds the highest spot. What kind of monster someone should be to be able to kill and then casually forgets it. 

Your classmate apparently does. Which means he is that kind of a monster. He’s acting like nothing happens. Like it’s his right to hold you like this. Kiss you like this. He changes the path of his kissing. Trails his lips along your jawline. Toward your cheek. Inching closer and closer to your lips. And for a second time, you tremble like a leaf. Not from fear. No. Purely due to the sensation he’s creating. Your mind is going numb. Your senses are becoming dull.

You’re losing it completely. 

Despite what you really want, your body is giving away. 

You should shove him away. You should scream at him. You should run away. 

But you can’t. 

You feel tired. Exhausted. You can’t fight anymore. Not that you’ve been doing an effective job at that previously either. You were already lost. So, you give up. Your hands fall limp between you. You give into the sensation while your mind still screams. While your stomach still churns awfully. While tears still flood down your cheeks and your heart still pounds violently. While you’re still very scared, you do nothing when his lips find yours. 

How ridiculous this situation is. He saved you from an assaulter just to become another one. Only different is the way you’re just standing there as his lips are pressed hard against you. For a minute. Then he is moving them. His tongue gently licks along the seam of your lips. You don’t intend to understand the silent invitation and open your mouth. Yet, that’s what you do. Unintentionally. As if your body is doing something you’re very familiar with. You open your mouth immediately. Welcoming his soft tongue to explore your insides. He does that very eagerly. Licking inside your mouth and sucking on your tongue. Groaning. And you can’t stop moaning into his mouth in return.  

Can’t stop curling your toes when he roams his hands over your body. Your waits, your back, and your ass. He squeezes your soft flesh and you feel a fire lighten inside you. That fire turns into lava and shoots across your veins when he presses his lower abdomen against your body. Letting you feel the unmistakable hardness inside his denim. 

It feels good. No matter how wrong that is, it still feels good. No matter that you’re still terrified and want nothing but to run away, this feels good. Too good to be precise. Ecstatic as he slowly starts to grind that hardness into you. So, you moan again. Moan into the searing kiss. Delwing in the sensation of his hands, hard cock, and his soft lips. 

He kisses you sensually. Like a gentle lover. Carefully. Oh, so lovingly.You would’ve believed he loves you if it wasn’t for the situation. The truth is he doesn’t. He’s taking advantage of you.  And you feel so helpless. 

Why’s no one coming down this path?

How’s no one seeing that someone is wounded?

Oh, god! Someone is dying. The killer is kissing you. He’s holding you with blood splattered hands. 

You need to stop this. You should just try again.

And so you do—only for it to be in vain, of course. Trying to shove him away with weak hands. This time, however, after a few efforts he actually pulls away. Just to rest his forehead against you. Sharing the same breath. You hold onto his black hoodie for your dear life. You’ll fall your ass down otherwise. A sob after a sob still escaping your dry lips. You do your best not to look down. To not look at the man. At blood. Instead you try to focus on breathing. Because it has become so difficult. 

“You’re fine baby. I’m so sorry.” He brings your attention back to him. You say nothing. You’re not capable. “I promise I didn’t mean to let someone else touch you. I’m sorry I was late.” So, he continues in your dead silence. “It was only meant for me. It was supposed to be just a little dose.” A kiss into your hair. “Just to loosen you up for me. I never meant to scare you so much. Oh, baby-” His grip tightens. “I didn’t mean to scare you, hm?” 

A kiss to your forehead. 

It’s like your brain works extra slow. It’s like his words come from such a distance that it takes you time to register them.

A kiss to your crown line. 

“I really didn’t mean to let someone else touch you. I’m so sorry.”

What did he say now?

Supposed?

A little dose?

A kiss to your temple.

Your heart beat is getting slower. Dots slowly but surely getting connected in your heavy mind. 

Only meant for me.

To loosen you up for me. 

Little dose! A dose! Loosen up! A dose!

Drugs!

You’ve been drugged. 

Suddenly, everything makes sense. The reason for all of this. For your weak body. Why your body doesn’t comply with your mind. He drugged you. The man back there, drugged you. No. No. Wait. It wasn’t him. 

It’s this person. Your classmate. 

He drugged you!

And then he killed a man. Or tried to. 

This time you tremble actually from the fear. A fear that engulfs you whole that you’re certain there’s no way of getting rid of it. Yet you scream. For the first time in this night you manage to get your voice out. A shrill scream. Enough to awaken the dead. You manage to at least make a distance between you two even if you still couldn’t push him completely away. 

With your head still violently pounding and spinning you manage to take a step to your side. Not completely knowing what you’re doing. Just wanting to get away. But he’s quicker than you. His hands are on you even before you know it. Holding you tight. Preventing you from running away. 

“Hey! Hey! (___), it’s fine. It’s fine now. You’re going to be okay.”

“No. No. Stay away from me!” You shriek. “No.” Your vision is turning dark. In a minute everything turns back into a desperate struggle. You’re struggling to get away. He’s struggling to keep you stay put. 

“Baby please! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

What is he even talking about?

“Let me go please.” You mutter under your breath one last time before completely giving up. Your body once again being victim to the extreme exhaustion you’re feeling. He just doesn’t listen to you, however. Says the only things he’s been saying all these time. That you’re fine. And you almost make up your mind to accept your fate. Accept that there’s no way of getting away. Away from this night. This nightmare. You almost believe that you will never be able to wake up. That you're forever trapped in his vice grip. Yet, just as you’re about to fall limp against his hold, a shadow of a figure appears in the doorway. Suddenly. Rushed sounds follow it. 

You snap your head toward the sound. Hope bubbling inside you. Hope that is paired with a fear that you’re not getting any help. A fear that everything is about to get worse if that’s even possible. But as you turn your head you’re met with an extremely familiar pair of brown orbs. Panicked. Wide. Face twisted ugly in fear. Panting harshly.

Jung Hoseok!

A breath you didn’t know you were holding escapes you immediately. Relief flushes over your every cell. 

“Hoseok!” You cry out. In relief. Your tears suddenly turn out to be ones of joy. “Hoseok.” You repeat. Voice a breathless whisper. His eyes land directly on you. His panicked eyes. Then he averts his gaze down. Despite your best efforts you follow his line of vision. Eyes back on the man on the floor. Throat pierced and covered in blood. Your stomach churn awfully again. 

“Holy fuck!” Hoseok curses, turning pale like cold ashes. Everything shifts into a frozen stillness following his curse. For a second. It’s like things are happening in slow motion. Like it’s a movie instead of your very reality. Only the club music and distant people chattering fills the air.  

“(___), fuck. Fuck, let her go!”

That voice breaks the stillness and everything comes crashing back into motion. You barely recognize that voice to be Jimin’s. Arms around your body tightens like a coiled serpent. Like a trap. Holding you tight. Tight like a drowning man clutching a lifeline. Like he’s afraid. Afraid that you’ll go. As he should since that’s your intention. You thrash against his iron-like grip. Clenching your jaw. 

Only now do you realize that Hoseok hasn’t been alone. Somewhere in between the tightening grip around you and your struggle you’ve noted each of your friends one by one. 

Jimin is the one who jumps into action first. Who breaks the shock of seeing fresh blood oozing from a dying man first. He lashes at your captivator like an enraged lion. Then just after a split second Hoseok does the same. 

A harsh punch thrown in your classmate’s face by Jimin and you feel the grip around you loosens. Then you’re being completely free from the tight hold. You barely catch the sight of Jimin grabbing your nameless friend’s hoodie and the way he does the same to Jimin’s. 

And everything happens so fast for you to comprehend. A fleeting hug of comfort and you’re pushed into your best friend’s hand. Hoseok and Jimin tackle down your ex-classmate together. For a skinny, quiet kid, he sure has a lot of strength. Yet is facing defeat against two other men. You hear lots of groans and curses. The sound of bones cracking. You see the livid faces of Hoseok and Jimin. And you think they’re going to kill the kid. 

You’re paralysed with fear. Being able to do nothing but just watch. 

They’re going to kill him.

Someone else is going to die. 

He’s about-

Daebi lets go of you suddenly. You don’t even get a second to process what’s happening before Daebi is barrelling at the mound of human balls on the floor. Then she’s doing her best to yank Jimin off from the kid’s body. Trying to stop him from landing punch after harsh punch in his already battered face. When she fails, she tries to get Hosoek away. While you and a frozen Nina just watch. 

“No.” Daebi’s voice mixes into the disgusting noises of bone cracking and whimpering. “No. You’d kill him. Hoseok, stop it.” She tries her best to no avail. Two men don’t even budge. But the good thing is your best friend doesn’t know when to give up either. “There’s someone dying. We-” She yanks from Hoseok’s arm. Says something you can’t hear. Then all of sudden she yells through the top of his lungs.“Someone is fucking wounded Hoseok. We need to go.” That somehow does the trick. Hoseok stops his violence immediately. As if he just remembers the man just lying a few feets apart from them. He turns his head toward the said man. Then at you. You watch as indecision flashes across his eyes. And you think he wouldn’t care. But just as the thought crashes in your mind, Hoseok rushes into his feet. He yanks Jimin apart from the now beaten guy far more easily than Daebi. 

“No. That’s enough Jimin. We need to go.” He practically dargs Jimin back. Jimin protests. Violently. But Hoseok manages to drag him away. Away from the kid who’s lying down on the floor. And for the first time you see his face. Face covered in blood. Ruined. Pink pretty lips you’ve grown to admire are splitted. But even in this state you just know he’s breathtaking. You have no time to admire anymore, however. Just after that brief glance, you find your face buried in Hoseok's broad chest. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry baby.” He mutters into your hair as new sobs ripple through your body. You will never be the same again. Have no idea what’s going to happen next. Yet your friends are arguing. Or at least Jimin and Daebi are. Nina is just staring ahead. Emptily.

“We need to leave.” Daebi hisses hurriedly. 

“For fucks sake Daebi, there’s someone dying, we need to help him.” Jimin hisses back.

“Yeah? And what do you think would happen then? That someone would come and give you a fucking medal for saving his life?”

“Then what? We’re leaving him to die?”

“Yes!” Daebi shouts so loud that you wince. “That’s exactly what we’re doing. C’mon let’s go.” She almost turns around but stops when nobody else follows her. No one even moves a finger. “What?” So, she faces everyone again. 

“We’re not leaving someone to die, Daebi.” This time it’s Nina who comes to help Jimin. Makes Daebi drags in a heavy breath which she exhales shakily. You watch as your best friend takes a firm step toward Nina. 

“If we stay here, trust me, Nina, it won’t be just him who’s dying tonight.” Her gaze wanders over everyone. Slowly. One by one. “That dude,” She points at the man who’s barely hanging there now. You don’t follow her gesture. Just stay in Hoseok’s embrace, shivering. “We don’t even know who he is. What the fuck are we going to do, if he’s a fucking big deal. What if he's a capo? No- no, what if he’s the fucking leader-” She trembles visibly. Oh, she knew the rumors aren’t just rumors, then. But you can’t fight over that now. “Staying here won’t do any good to us guys. We just- fuck, let’s just leave.” She ends her rambling with a desperate plea. “Please.”

This time everyone regards her with shocked silence. Until Jimin tries one more time. 

“B-but, we didn’t do anything. We have the guy, we just-” Jimin stops mid sentence. A horrified gasp leaves his mouth. Then a low curse. You find it impossible not to pull away from Hoseok and see what’s going on. Everybody does. Follow Jimin’s vision. “Where the fuck did he.. Go?” Jimin whispers inaudibly. All your eyes land on the spot where the beaten to death kid was laying. Empty. Now in the spot is a pool of blood but nothing else. You gasp aloud.

How did he?

But apparently that’s the least of your problems. Hoseok’s voice reminds you of that. 

“Fuck! We need to leave.” He repeats Daebi’s words. In a hurry. You turn to him in disbelief. 

“B-but…”

“Baby we need to leave. I don’t want any of us to tangle in this mess. We are going.” He cups your face. You peer at his brown eyes. Comforting. Strong. Panicked, yes but he’s providing you strength. You don’t know about the right thing or wrong thing. You just need to go home. Just to hide. Forget. So, you just nod. 

“What about the fucking proofs dude? They’ll fucking find us and we’ll be fucking suspects if we run.” Jimin still disagrees. 

“No. Trust me Jimin. As long as we get away from here, no one would know. I’m pretty sure he has millions of enemies who want to kill him and this is a club that covers every shit. We just need to run and save our fucking asses.”

That’s the last thing anyone says. You don’t question anything again. Just allow Hoseok to drag your weak, shaking body back into the crowded club. Through the drunken people and out. You don’t even look around to see if your classmate- Mr. No Name- was there. You no don’t care what happened to him or where he disappeared. You just let your friends guide you back home. 

Like you’re in a dream.

……………………………

After a month 

“I can’t believe you fucked up that chance Jungkook.” Daebi places her hands on her hips. Eyes warily graze over the pale kid on the spacious bed. A black patch over one of his doe eyes. Face still very much ruined and covered in a dozen plasters. Lips chapped and pale. He looks starved but Daebi knows it’s quite the opposite. He’s been receiving good care. Parents have filthy money, after all. A little lie about an accident covered it all up. 

Jungkook scoffs. At least try to scoff since all that comes out is a wince. A wince in pain as he still can’t move his lips. “You left her alone way earlier, Daebi. It wasn’t my fault.” He mumbles in between painful breaths. Turns his dark eyes toward Daebi who’s just standing there casually. As if she’s familiar with the place even though this is her first time at Jungkook’s parents’ house. Daebi does a very successful scoff. 

“So, it’s my fault now?” She gestures at herself.

“Yes.” Jungkook grumbles. And Daebi feels a slight shiver at the way his eyes darken. “And that motherfucker’s who thought he could get away after fucking touching her.” That crazed look clouds his eyes again. Daebi saw it that day at the club. A moment before everything went crashing down. A moment before she pointed him in the direction you disappeared with a strange man. A crazed look that screams murder. Destruction. It takes her a moment to collect herself. 

“Y-you’re so fucking crazy Jungkook.” She manages to get it out without shaking. “If you hadn't done something so stupid—” A harsh gulp to soothe her suddenly dry throat. “Like, what the fuck dude? Killing someone?”

“He’s not fucking dead apparently.” Jungkook disregards the way Daebi starts to look frightened. Says that with a regret in his voice. This time Daebi does tremble. “And you think that’s stupid?” He questions with a raised eyebrow. “I would’ve fucking skinned him alive if (___) hadn’t interfered.”  

Daebi doesn’t answer that. Simply because she doesn’t know how. 

He’s regretting that he couldn’t kill him.

He is crazy.

Crazier than she thought when she met him for the first time.

“And you shouldn’t have left her alone that early. What were you thinking Daebi? You were in that much of a hurry to suck Hoseok’s cock?”

Jungkook continues when Daebi doesn’t answer. She flinches at his words. Because, in fact, that was what happened. She was in a hurry to get alone with Hoseok. But that wasn’t her fault entirely. Jungkook should’ve been there. 

“Well, you should’ve come early. Besides, if you have managed to take her the first time, then none of this could’ve happened.”

Jungkook straightens up in his bed. 

“What first time?” Asks. Doesn’t receive an answer. “Ah.. that first time where you fucked it up by sending her boyfriend home early?”

“That’s not my fault that Nina fucking decided to crash at my place that day. You had more than an hour, Jungkook. Wasn’t that enough.”

“Yes, it wasn’t.”

“Okay, then let’s just say we fucked up, huh? We failed twice. But remember it was me who walked that much of a length to get her into your hands and you lost it.”

“Because, you wanted to help me?” Jungkook finally manages to scoff through the pain. 

“That doesn’t matter, Jungkook. We both failed. I don’t know why I came here today. You seem to be doing fine. Good. Let’s not see each other again. Have a great fucking life.” Daebi grits her teeth. This kid makes her scared in a strange way. Yet at the same time he makes her mad nonetheless. It was completely his fault. She managed to steal your wallet. Created a perfect opportunity for him to take you. You were just a girl after all. And Jungkook is undeniably a hot man. Daebi believed that Jungkook would have a trick or two to play hidden up his sleeves when it comes to women. Even if he didn't, that was fine. Daebi wouldn’t have cared as long as Jungkook took you. Made you his. So, Hoseok would be hers. That was the plan. And he- stupid Jeon Jungkook- ruined everything. So, she had to sacrifice her birthday to the mission. When she had suggested Elysium, it had never been her plan to cause anyone any arm. It was not what she wanted. All she wanted was a fun night at a place that is dangerous. Danger gives Daebi a thrill. But since Jungkook failed the first time, she had to make alterations to her birthday plans.  And that was ruined too. 

Fuck this!

Daebi grabs her bag from the armchair next to her. Almost leave the room when Jungkook speaks up. 

“You failed. I didn’t.” He mumbles slowly. Makes Daebi turn around in sudden interest. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I haven’t given up, Daebi. I won’t. I just-” He sighs heavily. Eyes getting dreamy. “I- I just need a little time. I will never give up on her.”

A silence falls following his words. Daebi just gapes at his face. 

This is interesting.

A spark of hope bubbles inside her. 

She was so close to getting what she wanted. Hoseok and you were finally starting to crumble. Her plan was to let Jungkook have you, but it has turned out to be in her favor in the end anyway. You were apparently playing with Hoseok's patience, being stubborn. Being a nuisance. Being a nag. The fight that broke between you two was doing Daebi a great favour. 

See now, she knows Hoseok loves her. It’s just he’s a little coward who can’t make a decision. Or to act upon one. He has a heart too good for himself. He doesn’t want to dump you that way. And he doesn’t believe he loves Daebi. Or that Daebi loves him. In Hoseok’s mind, it is just lust. Which isn’t true. Daebi just knows it’s love. Ever since the day she saw him, she has loved him. Too bad that you are an inseparable part of the equation. Too bad Hoseok thinks he genuinely loves you. He doesn’t. If he does, he never would have ended up in Daebi’s bed. Still he believes that and he was so close to breaking off his sexual affair with Daebi. Of course, she has no other options but to do something. That’s when she found Jeon Jungkook. Someone who could understand her feelings. Someone who loves you madly. Like she loves Hoseok. 

They both could’ve won if it wasn’t for Jungkook’s sudden thirst for blood. 

Hoseok was about to break up with you. Then everything took that damn turn. Daebi had to watch Hoseok rocks and soothe you the entire night. Kissing you over and over. Apologizing for not being there. Whispering sweet nothings to your ear.

Daebi had to endure his harsh words after a week. That they are nothing but a mistake and they should stop. Had to listen to him confessing his true love to you. Had to watch his guilt trip, blaming everything that happened on himself. Had to pretend to be your best friend and not hurt when you became the main character of everyone’s life. The way Hoseok became a doting boyfriend who did his everything to make sure you’re fine. 

And she’s getting tired. Fucking tired. 

But Jungkook’s words suddenly give her hope. 

Just like he gave her hope months ago.

……………………..

Two months ago

“You’re the one who texted me?” Jungkook clenches his jaw. His voice a low, dangerous grumble, that Daebi takes an involuntary step back.

“Y-yes.” Nonetheless she answers without missing a beat.

“Why?” Another growl from the guy hidden behind a hoodie. This time it’s not exactly low. Okay, maybe Daebi has fucked up. The thing is, she doesn’t know the answer for herself. It just happened. She saw an unknown number pop up in your inbox. She was mad at the way Hoseok carried you inside the room. As if he hadn’t just fucked the life out of her a minute ago. So, she replied. Pretending to be you. She didn’t know who the person texting you was. She just texted back. Maybe deep down she expected to cause trouble between Hoseok and you. But then she found out who was texting. She found out about Jeon Jungkook. Thanks to her extensive research skills. 

And then she got an idea. In between her sneaky texting with him, whenever she got a hold of your phone, she realized that he obviously likes you. That’s where the idea struck in. Hence the reason for this meetup. A quick text to meet her here. 

“Why the fuck did you do that?” This time the guy shouts so loudly that Daebi jumps on her feet. This is a bad idea. 

“I don’t know.” She shouts back. 

“For fucks sake, bitch!” The guy- who she now knows to be Jeon Jungkook- takes a hurried, threatening step toward her. Fast and unexpected that she almost loses her balance. Ends up balancing herself on the rusty fence behind her. 

“No. Wait.” She brings her hands forward. Stopping the guy from coming any nearer. He listens surprisingly. Halts his steps for a beat. “You like her, don’t you?” Daebi asks hurriedly. A silence. 

“What’s that for you?”

“I would like to help you.”

Another silence. A long one. A very long one before he takes a step back. Brings a hand up to push his hoodie back. Looks Daebi dead in the eye. And her breath hitches. It’s ridiculous how Daebi has to bite inside her cheek to not to gasp at the sight.

He- if nothing else- is freaking beautiful.

Daebi has thought he had a scar or something in his face that made him hide his face. But this? This isn’t a type of face someone should hide. 

“Why?” He questions again, making her come down to earth. She opens her mouth to answer but he beats her up to it. “Because you are in love with her boyfriend?”

The breath gets knocked out of Daebi’s lungs. A loud gasp escapes her. Eyes wide and jaw dropping to the floor, she presses herself more against the rusty fence. Nobody knew. Not Jimin. Not Nina. No one. So how could he- 

“What made you think I need your help Daebi? (___) would be ecstatic to hear what her best friend and boyfriend have been doing behind her back. I don’t need your help. I can manage for myself.” A sly smirk appears on his face. Daebi almost forgets to reply at her shocked state. Despite the urge to ask how he knows, she decides to play the cards. And win, of course. 

“What made you think that just telling her about us would make her fall for you? What are you going to do? Become her pathetic shoulder to cry?” She finally pulls away from the fence behind her. It’s now Daebi’s time to smirk when Jungkook’s smile slowly starts to disappear. “And you think that would make her love you? Oh, Jungkook, she loves Hoseok a little too much for that to happen.” Daebi takes a step forward. Now in confidence. She starts to take part in the game as well. “She never even intended to reply back to you-”

“How would you know?”

“I’m her best friend, of course, I know.”

“You’re wrong. She already likes me.”

“In your fucking dreams, Jeon,” Fuck! She shouldn’t have said that. Jungkook’s eyes turn dark as she watches. Dark and empty. Crazy. A shiver runs down Daebi’s spine at that look. “Listen to me,” Yet she manages to hide that shiver. Manages to appear confident. “She damn loves Hoseok. Even if you go and tell her that he’s been cheating on her, that’s going to do nothing but breaks her heart. You-” She points a finger at the kid in front of her. “Are nothing but the pathetic kid she decided to pity,” That crazed look intensifies. She’s playing with fire. One wrong move, and she’d burn. “It’s just pity, Jungkook. She pities you. But-” Daebi holds a hand up at the right moment Jungkook tries to say something. “Maybe we can change that. Let’s get this clear. I want Hoseok and you want (___). I’ll help you and in return you’ll help me. Take her away from Hoseok. I know you love her and maybe you can treat her better.”

Jungkook’s crazed eyes immediately brighten..

Oh, he’s crazy. 

But also stupid.

Daebi just knows that she hit the jackpot with those words. 

“And if you don’t believe me, just try asking her out for a coffee. See if she would agree even on friendly terms.” Yet she continues to play. She has an idea after all. All she needs is for Jungkook to comply. She waits a minute to see what he would say. And just like she knew his face goes a slight red. A warm red that makes him look adorable. 

“H-how?”

“What do you mean, how? Just ask her out.”

“I just can’t do that. What if she just-”

“Reject you? And stop talking to you ever again?” Daebi raises one of her shaped eyebrows. Jungkook says nothing to that. “Well, you shouldn’t just let her do that then. You really love her, so make sure she knows. I’ll find a perfect opportunity for you to be alone with her. What do you say?” 

There it is. Daebi’s meticulously crafted plan to make you fall in for someone else. She can’t think about someone else other than this person in front of her to be honest. She waits patiently until he agrees. 

“I can ask her out during a class.”

Then he answers, much to her dismay. Daebi hadn’t expected him to disagree. Hence, a moment of hesitance on her side. Only for a moment, though. Daebi is a woman who knows what she does, after all. There’s no way she would just back up. 

Here’s the case. It would be alright to let Jungkook play his game alone. But the thing is Daebi knows you like the back of her hand. You are in love with the same man as she is. And you will never fall for someone else. Not that easily. That’s why they need a plan. Like Daebi offers. See, Jungkook is stupid. 

“Well, then she would have the perfect chance to say no and walk out. Now we don’t want that, do we Jeon Jungkook. Trust me this once. Just try asking her and-” Daebi stares at the innocently crazed look in this man’s eyes. Maybe he would get angry at her. Maybe she shouldn’t complete her sentence. Now it’s too late to back down, however. “- and- if she says no then you can make sure she- uh… let’s say… understand that you love her.”

Silence.

Utter, deafening silence. 

And the threatening look he gives her. 

Then, at last, after what feels like years, he gives a nod. 

“Of course, she’ll understand that I love her.”

“Perfect.”

…………………….

A month after the incident (At Jungkook’s parent’s house)

Jungkook looks into Daebi’s hopeful eyes. For some reason, this woman disgusts him. Probably because she’s hurting you. You don’t know it yet, but she is. But she’s a useful ally and he can’t deny that. 

 I want Hoseok and you want (___).

She had said. But she was wrong. She wants Hoseok but Jungkook needs you. It’s not just a want. Not anymore. Now after that one taste. After he held you. Kissed you. Smelled you. The need has become feral. He won’t give up. Not ever. Even if it takes years. 

“You should  stick to what you’re good at, Daebi. Being a bitch. Let’s be sure to see each other again someday.” Jungkook tries to smile. Daebi hesitates for a moment. Then as if she knows that this isn’t the time, she turns around. Walks away. Without another word. And Jungkook falls back onto his bead. 

Ready to lose himself in thoughts of you.

Oh, he’ll definitely treat you better. 

And he’ll wait till the day he can do so. 

END

..............................................................................................................................

I planned on writing smut here but then got a better idea (trust me)

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Taglist- @yunhoswrldddd @rjooniesdimples @ttanniett @targaryenluvs @winchesterkenzie @miniesjams32 @bookstoread199 @smokinghotstargirl @likemeforme @sunshinenmidnight @whiteoakoak @joulekanitz @annafarrr @felicityroth @angellekookie @futuristicenemychaos @bhonbhon @stutixmaru @mangify @ssbb-22 @lailac13 @skittleswitmnms @whoa-jo @vantelover1306 @annyeongbitch7 @mar-lo-pap @gyeomibearr @noturresponsibility @pigunny2426 @sophlizzy @mf-ire @cannotalwaysbenight @yikes-ukiyo @eegyo

[wanologic]

college au prequel: what happened to danny during junior year - 2940 words

Viscous green liquid sludges through a dry river bed, whetting the cracked ground and seeping deep into the void. Soil softens, becoming fat with nutrient. In the most basic definition, still itself, but filled with new matter, ready and accepting of more. This is what it was made for, its purpose. It has been sitting, dry and untended for too long. In this symbiosis it is more than it dreamed to be. Complete in the sense that it has been starved.

--

Danny wakes up, the dream lingering.

He’s been feeling odd lately, despite the fact that he is more comfortable in his skin than ever. He has a goal, he has support. 

A bridge, he called himself.

Even if he’s only sixteen and his influence is contextually small, he has time. People are listening. Ghosts are listening. Small steps over a long period will get you where you need to go, and he’s still just a kid. 

A kid who has to get ready for school.

He goes through the familiar motions, snags a quick breakfast and lets his parents know he’s headed out, that he’ll see them later. He’s out the door and on his way before he knows it.

Danny’s grades have improved since his freshman year. The pressure to keep things secret has all but alleviated and his family is sticking close. The world might not know that Fenton and Phantom are the same, but the people who matter do.

He’s managing. Thriving, even.

His extracurriculars are atypical of a high school junior, but he plays his role well. The Ghost Investigation Ward meets Phantom and the Fentons on neutral ground that evening, working their way methodically through a tangle of red tape. Teaching, learning. There’s always danger in compromise, but both parties are being two faced. It’s civil for now.

He’ll do this from the opposite angle on another day, playing border guard for the dimensional tear nestled into the fabric of his basement. Walker would be proud of him. He’s enforcing the Rules.

And it’s all going well as far as he can tell. Things are so much less chaotic than they were, his brawls feel like bonding, his head is no longer on a swivel.

For now, it’s off to his room. A space for himself to decompress after a long day's work.

He spends a lot of time thinking about a prehistoric past. What the future might look like once his job is over. This solid physical reality fed that swirling and infinite realm of emotion directly, once. It didn’t last, but time has passed. 

Danny is more aware of this fractured nature than most. He’s sure it’s why he’s had so much success. Why the responsibility falls on him. He feels it every time he calls upon his second self. 

And that’s what it is, isn’t it? Human first, ghost second. Humanity is the frame of reference he was born with. Everything new he experiences in this strange half-life is compared against it. Spectra once asked him what he was. But humanity is in his nature. He is a creepy boy with creepy powers. He’s sure of it. 

Going ghost.

Returning to humanity.

Not that he prefers one over the other. He’s made the choice. More than once. When his memories were erased or his powers short-circuited he always took them back. Felt the thrumming and euphoric energy pulsing through his being once again. His shape projected and unreal. Weightless. It feels incredible.

At some point, some late night discussion about feelings, whether it was with family or with friends, he realized his dual nature was more of a privilege than he could ever hope to fully comprehend. His human half feeds his ghost half everything. His ghost half is complete. No wonder he’s so determined, so strong. He has never once craved emotion the way the others have. He has intrinsic access to everything. Every failed test, every frustration, every joy, every thrill. He is comfortable and whole. Has no need to lash out. Two separate identities working together as two polar magnets, inseparable through the strength of their attraction, moving through the world as one.

He slips the familiar glowing rings across his body, the cool wash of ectoplasm coursing through his veins. Back again, blood pumps oxygen to his cells. Human. Ghost. Human. Ghost.

--

This time the dream is stranger.

The river craves the ocean. 

Danny feels the sand cake beneath his nails as he digs a trench, a violation of the river’s established bed. There’s a trickle as a thin and frothy stream flows out of sync with the current along the path he lays. It longs for the larger disconnected body ahead. A curious tendril seeking an easier path. He digs deeper, automatic, compelled by a force he doesn’t quite understand. 

Is this a bridge too?

He’s both excited and afraid to find out.

The liquid pools at his fingertips as fast as he can dig. Nudging. The sand is saturated and wet in front of him. He’s not sure how much further he has to go. But if he can claw his way through this dense barrier he’s sure it will pick up momentum even without him. The fluid mass can carve its own trench. Wider. Faster. Wider again.

He wakes up in a cold sweat. He somehow feels incorporeal. This isn’t right. He looks at his hands. His fingers in the dark. Clean. Spotless. He feels the sheets beneath his body, the press of the blanket above. So he’s still human then, wrong as it may seem. He clutches at his chest as he tries to calm his racing heart, quell the strength of an intense emotion that he cannot describe. It’s exhilarating. It’s terrifying.

He stops digging and fashions a dam, not yet ready for what the final connection could mean.

His head hurts.

Nausea tucks itself against his gut.

He takes a shower.

--

It’s Saturday and he has business in the Ghost Zone.

He shifts, expecting the weird feeling to subside. Instead it’s more of the same. Something is off. He ignores it. A thing to worry about later when he has less to do.

His work that day goes smoothly, another step in what he can only hope is the right direction. And it feels nice, giving in to the compulsion and focusing on what is in front of him, what is currently begging his attention, rather than the problems lurking beneath the surface. It is a learned behavior, one he falls back into easily.

Upon his return he feels like he is dragging a piece of the Infinite Realms back with him. The air seems to thicken, the cold steel walls of the portal are closing in on him. The exit is a pinpoint.  He’s being called back. He wants to move forward. He can feel silky fingers worm their way over his skin, hundreds of tendrils trying to pull him into their embrace. He stays strong. Moves with intent. The invisible hands can’t find enough purchase and he is finally welcomed back into the Physical World like the denizen he is. 

The caress stays with him much longer than he’s willing to admit.

--

Weeks go by and he only feels stranger and stranger. High. His attention slides off of everything so easily, his eyes blurring mid-conversation, a stuffy feeling, like a balloon that’s expanding well past the boundaries of his head. He loses time. Cancels appointments. He doesn’t feel well, sorry, he’s going to stay home today.

There is something Danny knows he needs to do. He can’t keep existing in limbo like this, his job only half-finished, pulled in two directions but choosing neither. His powers will wane once again in his indecision. His purpose sits unfulfilled.

He lays back and stares at the softly luminescent stars pasted to the ceiling of his room. Takes deep and even breaths as he struggles to remain present. His sister is worried for him, he’s sure. The best he can do for her is secretly practice what she has preached.

Danny eventually thinks back to that trickling stream. The slimy offshoot of the coursing river. He thinks of the dam he dreamed up all those weeks ago, sure it’s bigger now. His denial adds weight and height to the metaphor. Every day it feels less like a figment of his fucked up imagination and more like the worlds are trying to tell him something. What’s on the other side now, he wonders? Is the river still flowing? Are the fruits of his labor still there or has that little hand-clawed pathway dried up? How large is the reservoir pressing up against that sandy hill if it hasn’t?

He’s scared. 

He doesn’t want to know. 

But this isn’t what he promised himself.

A peek can’t hurt.

--

The dream comes easily, now that he lets it.

The funny thing about water is that it always finds a way. No matter what people do, how they try to tame it, erosion is inevitable. It starts as a dark wet splotch, the faint idea of a tiny breach in the all-but-permeable barrier between worlds—the river and the ocean. As the spot expands a dip forms on the horizon. The water moves. Under, through, over. Destructive. Alive. Danny shouldn’t have looked but he can’t stop what has already started. Equilibrium will be achieved one way or another. It was only ever a matter of time. He stands in the shallows, cowed as the wall comes down. Slowly first, then all at once.

The edges of panic are sharp and he realizes what is happening only a beat too late. 

The dam breaks.

He screams.

He was the dam, he is the trench, the rapid connection of energy flowing out of bounds and rushing along a new path. Lightning striking the rod to avoid burning down the house. The portal below him is a wound, a tear. He is something asked for, something natural. His mind can’t keep up as he struggles to regain ground and prevent being swept away by the violent current.

Dim awareness of his physical body comes back to him slowly as he writhes against the foreign dimension assaulting his senses. A second death. His double life was a conceptual marvel, a switch flipping from on to off, and back on again. He is the embodiment of two worlds, split, distinct. His quest to join them together requires this of him, doesn’t it? Whatever autonomy he has against the will of the universe cannot remain if he truly wants to serve his purpose. It’s a choice he has to make. One that he has been making. One that has been made.

He takes a deep and shuddering breath.

He tries to let go, and finds that he can’t. It’s like being electrocuted all over again, his nerves fried and his joints stuck rigid. It’s a feeling that is impossible to control, tense as he is.

His breath still comes ragged as colors around him saturate and the world warps. He can feel his fear, his desperation, feeding the momentum of whatever is happening. The exchange of emotion, osmosis through a rapidly deteriorating membrane. Thousands of overlapping inputs assault his mind as he feels the energy sliding around in the folds of his brain. He breathes through it. It’s not at all painful, but it is intense. His human points of reference aren’t working to help him conceptualize what is happening. His atoms are buzzing with newfound energy and the world is no longer solid. He tries once again to attempt the mindfulness ritual Jazz has been shoving down his throat, tries to name five things around him. The exercise fails him as he feels his brain liquefy in his skull. He gasps at the sloshing sensation, back arching. He’s going to be unmade.

Instead of loosening his grip, he tightens it. Remembering what it is to be human with all the force he can muster. His knuckles are white. Sweat slips down his brow. If he can’t let go, he has to hold on. He is gasping, thrashing. He’s hyperventilating, he’s sure, but no oxygen floods his system. He wants release, wants off this ride. The world outside of his perception ceases to exist. Flesh slips from his bones and it feels so, so good.

Then he sees it.

His eyes are blind, but he perceives it, somehow. The yawning void of the infinite realms is so much bigger, so much hungrier than he had ever thought. Reading that tablet, all that time ago, he thought his purpose was something simple. Easy in a way that a fourteen year old imagination could rationalize. The earth and the zone were two physical spaces that only needed to understand each other and hold hands to achieve that elusive harmony. 

He’d been wrong.

It’s not the earth that feeds the realms. Dimensions aren’t something that can be explained by an elementary understanding of mass and matter. They aren’t some static three dimensional points in time and space. They are universes of their own, expanding, interstitched in a nasty and sticky web of inexplicable physics folding over and back on themselves, forever too complicated to pry apart.

The realms are fed by the conscious universe perceiving itself, the soul, the spirit, whatever you want to call it. Emotions aren’t some grid of faces on a paper, they are infinite, they are cause and effect, the chicken and the egg, projecting forever in a möbius loop human understanding can never truly describe.

He’s going to go insane, he concludes. Here on his bed, on some random weekday, alone in his room. The magnetic pull of his two halves are phasing into each other, becoming imperceivable as the two separate forms he once knew. He’s not even sure that he really exists at this point. 

There is another choice to make.

He thinks back to what he knows about this buried history, Pariah Dark, The Ancients, wonders if they considered this connection, what they knew about how this should happen. Is there a way to do this that is objectively correct? If he knew more would it be easier? Or would it go down just the same? He has no desire to conquer. Only to be a bridge. A tether. An example. To show that this merging from two to one can be peaceful, a shift in perception rather than a violent overhaul. It is unavoidable now. His only wish is to remain recognizable as himself. 

He focuses not on his mind but on his body. He has to rebuild from the ground up or risk losing himself forever. Start small, a beating heart. Vascular systems. Skeletal. Muscular. Take a breath and pump blood into the empty cavern of his skull. Human is what he knows, though he’s never had to think about it quite this way before. His nerves lace through the structures he’s struggling to create, half intuition, half memory. It feels like being a ghost, all projection and thought, a deep and innate understanding. He knows this. He’s existed this way every moment of his short life and he can do it again. He’s alive, his blood is red, his flesh is tangible.

His brain slams back into his body and he promptly throws up.

--

The worlds are connected once again.

Danny’s hands shake as he tries to get a grip on himself. He’s been changed. He can feel it. The Infinite Realms has marked him as he has marked it. The world is flowing through and from him. Energy hums under his skin, and in it there is access to a well so deep he’s not sure it could ever run dry. 

He finally gets it. This is what being a bridge between worlds means for him.

He gets off his bed slowly. Half floating, half stumbling for balance. His instincts are scattered and his breath no longer sits in his body the same.

This change gives him the authority and the power, the perception and understanding to mend the bleeding fracture between dimensions. He will be listened to. He cannot be hurt. His appearance no longer matters, he is what he is, wholly and entirely. He exists as a linchpin. He is the keystone in the arch where one side is living and the other is dead.

Gravity feels so odd. Like someone changed the coefficient.

He sobs and grabs his dresser for support, woozy and unbalanced, a newborn deer walking on unfamiliar legs. He intends to make his way downstairs. Wants to fall into the embrace of his parents. Needs someone to hold him and tell him that everything will still be okay. He looks to the door.

And without moving, he is there.

Breath comes hard and fast as he steadies himself. His perception catching up to the new perspective. His hand is on the handle, he radiates a trail of semi-physical matter with every motion. It will take practice to appear normal again. He’s reminded of his freshman year.

When he finally opens the door, a swirling green wall is all that meets him. He stares at it, the cold vapor of the Realms slipping around and through him.

He knows the observants exist on the other side. He is sure of it as he is sure of anything. They are there to acknowledge the crown above his head. To observe what he has finally made of himself. 

He will tell him that he didn’t want this, didn’t ask for it.

They will tell him that he is lying.

He steps through the threshold.

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Rose Recaps 2024 - Korea [ Thailand | Japan ]

Starting my list of favourite shows with Korea. They gave us so much angst, and some of them I still haven't fully been able to shake. Let's go.

The one with the existential dread

Love For Love's Sake

I was not ready. Not that I think there was a way I would be, but still. I was floored. It was an ambitious concept but executed pretty much flawlessly. If they had a bit more time, I think the world building could've benefited a little, cause there were parts that felt a bit rushed but overall the themes were well conveyed throughout. This show can be interpreted in a variety of ways, and one can take from it different things. For so much of this show I was filled with anxiety and sadness, but by the end the overall message of self love healed a small part of me. The visuals were strong and the actors did a wonderful job.

Favourite Moment:

Obvious perhaps, but no one can deny the beauty of this moment. Just the pure relief and joy I felt, made it one of my favourites of the year.

The one with all the yearning

The Time of Fever

I was so normal about this show. First let me just say, that I don't think of this show as a prequel. I know it is one, but I prefer to think of it as its own thing. This show drove me crazy. I suffered through it twice, and I kept finding new things that drove me insane. The yearning, the pining, the love these two have for each other that can only be rivalled by the fear they both share. Hotae is afraid of his feelings, because he can't understand them or can't accept them, but he also can't resist the pull. Donghee is afraid because he does understand, but he also knows what it means, so he needs to protect his friend from all the ugliness he himself has endured. And the actors just portrait these emotions so well. Truly some of the best acting I've seen this year. The camera work is outstanding, the framing always intentional and the lighting is good enough to break your heart.

Favourite Moment:

The heater between them??? Incredible. I'm still in awe of this whole scene. From the feeding of the orange slice to the kiss itself and their body language right to their expressions at the end. It was a flawless scene.

The one with all the trauma

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo

Every week I was filled with excitement and dread waiting for new episodes. It was a painful journey for them and for me. Such a raw depiction of how trauma follows you long after you left the place where you endured it behind you. Closure is such an overused word, because it always sounds like there's a switch you can flip, and you're fine. Like it's that simple. The way Dohoe carried all of the abuse with him, how he shaped his life around it unconsciously, all along believing he was healing himself, it was heartbreaking to watch. And JuYeong. The boy who waited. The boy who understood and gave him the space to heal. Time stopped for 12 years for both of them. But they have a lifetime left to heal together and find happiness in the simple act of loving and being loved by each other.

Favourite Moment:

The symbolism destroyed me. The cross, the wall, the confession. Masterful.

The one that wasn't like the others

Love In The Big City

I don't even know what to say any more. It was an amazing adaption. Stellar acting, great script, gorgeous visuals. It's messy and it all feels so real. Young is one of my favourite characters of all time, both the one from the book and the one from the series. I wanted to hug him and hit him over the head at several points. I did appreciate the bigger presence of the T-aras, it left me more hopeful than the novel. I'm still not over the break up though.

Favourite Moment:

The honesty, the unconditional acceptance. To watch Young experience it for the first time was overwhelming.

Honourable mention to Boys Be Brave that I adored. And the only reason is not in this list is because of the second couple. They needed more time, and even with the time they had I thought the writing of that storyline was a bit messy. But I loved the mains.

Be back soon with the next one. Maybe💜

[daisyjonesgf]

the lakes (8) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous part / next part

prequel

4.6k words

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, manipulation of someone's feelings, drinking away problems, mental illness, mentions of suicidal ideations, savior complex Finnick and reader, codependent relationship, allusions to trafficking and forced sexualization of body, mentions of death/violence happening to children, unedited, no use of y/n, arguments, self-hate, self-doubt, a love triangle that really isn't a love triangle

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Oh, you look so beautiful." Cambrie was crying, actually crying. Standing behind you in the mirror, staring the the gorgeous dress she'd designed. You wanted to cry too because even if she'd always treated you more like a doll than a living, breathing person it did hurt to know you'd never see her familiar presence again. 

“You did an amazing job, Cambrie, it reminds me of home." Truthfully the dresses shimmery deep blue did make you think of the waters of home and the seaweed and pearl based jewelry was a nice touch. Of course it was a too low cut for your liking and regardless of the colors would be completely translucent if the light hit it right, it was stunning.

“You really think so?" Her eyes were full of tears and you nodded your head turning to hug her.

“Yes, thank you." It pained you too think about how even if she never treated you fully human she would still be deeply hurt by your death. Her favorite muse.

“I don't know who I'm going to model my designs off of anymore, unless you come back or course, but you make it so easy." Of course she had ulterior motives, but it was somewhat amusing to hear her problems when yours were so much more lethal. She pulled away from you, “I wanted to go more bridal, but President Snow wanted Katniss wearing her wedding dress, so we're going to go for the more subtle route.”

It wasn't subtle in the slightest, a similarly shimmering, translucent veil was in your hair although not covering your face and adorned with sea thrift. Your arms had bouquet-like bracelets of yarrow, lavender, and sea oats from your shoulders down to your wrists. Then there were the sandals covered in pearls and seashells, if it hadn't been purposefully forced to be more sensual you would have genuinely loved it. More of a “natural" makeup look had been preferred to create the essence of more of a sweet mermaid than a sultry, seductive siren.

Suddenly you could feel the tears threatening to pour over, “I wish you would have been able to just design my wedding dress with normal circumstances. Thank you for this.” 

"Oh you're such a sweetheart, I can't fathom how they could do this again to such a sweet girl. Everyone loves you, there's so much outrage. You'll certainly have lots of sponsors.” She cupped your face, shaking her head sadly. "We'd best be on our way.” She sighed, leading you out of the room for the last time.

There all the tributes stood waiting in their line, Katniss was already waiting in her wedding gown. She caught you staring at the dress, "Snow made me wear it.” 

"Make him pay for it.” Johanna remarked ok the side, in another one of the tree related get ups her designer has such an attachment too. She looked you up and down,"Even in death they just can't leave you alone?” It was true, you were basically naked if people were staring at the way the colors caught the light.

“Just making sure to squeeze out every last drop before I go." One last glance at the body they'd controlled before you took it back forever. Johanna scoffed.

“Make him pay for that too." You took your place in the line next to Finnick, whose shirt was heavily unbuttoned.

“Is this our own wedding get-up?" He asked, arm sliding around your waist. You hummed a yes as you pecked at his lips.

“Do you like it?" You asked, hand playing with his sleeve.

“You look stunning. Do you like it, would it be your top contender when I finally get you that real dress?" He asked, a loving grin adorning his face. 

“Maybe, if it wasn't so see-through. Reminds me of home though.” Finnick nodded in agreement.

“Look like you came straight from the moonlit waters, angel." You rested into his warm arms which were a godsend when the fabric did even less to protect you from the chill in the air. Cashmere and Gloss both proclaimed how difficult it would be to let go of their friends from the Capitol. How they were all like brothers and sisters to them, trying to further manipulate the audience's feelings into somehow getting them to prevent the games. Snow would never let that happen, but taking a shot at it couldn't hurt. Enobaria and Brutus both acted like it was a normal game, with just as much intensity as they had the first round. Wiress was rambling on and on, sometimes coherently, but the audience simply laughed like it were some huge joke about how unstable she was. Beetee’s rationalization took hold, talking about all he had done, all he'd offered to the Capitol, and questioned how legal this type of Quarter Quell was, couldn't it just be unwritten since it would have such a negative effect? Finnick rubbed circles on your arm as you nervously tapped your foot. “You've got this, my love." He reassured you as you were lead to wait off stage.

“Our very own Capitol Princess!” Caesar Flickerman’s voice blared and you put on your most charming smile to enter as he said your name. Waving at the audience, blowing kisses. The cheering soon calmed down and he turned to look at you, “Now, I think we're all a little bit upset with you and your husband. Aren't we?" The audience gave out enthusiastics agreements. 

“I'm sorry!" You giggled, breathily. “We didn't want to take away attention from the star-crossed lovers."

“Oh we have enough love for the both of you!" The audience cheered in agreement.

You looked out at the crowd, “And we love you! It breaks my heart to know we won't get to share our journey with you." The tears that wanted to spill about other things you willed to appear now.

“So a secret marriage? How did that come about?" Caesar asked after the ooh’s and aww’s had quieted.

“We just knew that if we were going to die in the arena, we needed to be one with each other, and the waters." The first tears began to roll, “Now that we know we can't ever again have those moments. Especially to share them all with you." You could vaguely see tears on obscured faces and you knew it was working. "We'd been quietly planning how we'd get engaged in front of all of you, but when the Quarter Quell announcement came it just couldn't wait. So now we can't do the dress, and the wedding, and the house decorating, and the kids with all of you.” Wiping away the tears falling down.

"We'll certainly mourn that just as much, won't we?” The crowd boomed with agreement and cries. "One more thing, last time you were here you were also going into the arena with a romance, now it's happening all over again, does that add to the emotions we’re feeling tonight? The idea that if you win you'll have lost another love?”

Your tears glistened under the lights as you nodded, "All I have to say about that Caesar is that I have no intentions of leaving that arena if I can't be with him. We are one and I couldn't bear to live my life without knowing I'd see him everyday. This hurts so bad because I know it'll be my last time seeing all of your kind faces.” By now the audience was sobbing and suddenly the tears began feeling real, creeping up on you.

Caesar nodded solemnly, “And we'll be sorry to see you go. Ever romantic, our Capitol Princess!" Tears were blinding you and it was difficult to find your way to the pedestals where the other tributes were standing. Suddenly your face was being held and honey tasting lips were on yours, Finnick. You could hear the audience cooing and crying, he wiped the tears once he pulled away and led you to where you needed to stand.

"Sorry, Ceaser I couldn't help myself." His warm voice filled the room, his gorgeous smile being zoomed in on by the cameras.

“Oh no worries! Making ever the entrance, Capitol darling Finnick Odair!" The audience let out a resounding cheer for him. “Finnick, can I be honest?"

“Of course, Caesar." That gorgeous, sunshine smile rested on his face and it was no wonder it left the Capitol citizens swooning for more.

“I don't know what we're going to do if you don't come back. Right?” The audience loudly agreed and Finnick chuckled. "I mean you've been such a favorite, both of you have, and the world will not be the same without it.” How ironic, if it would be so painful then they really should make more of an effort to put a stop to it, but they wouldn't.

"I'm very sorry about that Ceaser, but my hands are tied. If we could, we would spend every moment with all of you, we're so grateful for your love.” A bold-faced lie, every party to keep up appearances, each call from the Capitol was far more draining then just spending a peaceful day together which could be endless.

“We wish you could too. Being married in the arena, how's that going to work? I mean we've heard from her that there's no grand plan for her to come back, but I assume as the husband you might have something to say about that?" This elicited a laugh from the audience and Finnick nodded.

“Well certainly, Caesar, what kind of husband would I be if I let her have her way in that? I will say, my love, you have my heart for all eternity, and if I die in that arena, my last thought will be of your lips.” You were sick, honestly nauseated with grief. This was so unfair, you'd tried not to think about it, but in just over 12 hours you'd be forced back into the arena and risk losing each other.

"We wish you the best luck with that." People were weeping in the audience and Finnick's face had become so sober that it was jarring how naturally it fell back into an easy smile. “That's Finnick Odair, Capitol darling." Soon he was right beside you on the podium, kissing you again for the audience to be giddy with joy, but also hearts ruptured for the lovers torn apart for only the first time of the night. You could taste your salty tears mixing with the honeycomb of his lips before he pulled away, giving another grin to the audience.

His hand stayed intertwined with yours, but something wasn't quite right about his demeanor. Even if physically he kept up the same presence as always you could feel the shift in his aura, in his touch. He was upset, but not in the way you were. You couldn't stop yourself from continually glancing over at him, silently trying to get his attention so you could see what was wrong. Squeezing his hand with yours to try and get a response when he finally did meet your eyes it hit you that the look was disappointment, dread and when you shot a quizzical look back he looked like he was going to cry as he put his focus back on the stage.

You were stuck in your own head no, had it been something you said? Did? It was all for the performance which he had to know. Your foot was tapping and you were zoning out of the interviews until all the sudden the audience was shrieking. Katniss’ wedding dress disappeared in clouds of black smoke and when they disappeared the dress had transformed. Upon lifting her arms you could see what it was, a mockingjay. A public symbol of the rebellion, Caesar was trying to cover, but the cameras already would have caught it.

One more interview before the night would be over and you'd wait to be shipped back off to the arena where certain death awaited you. Charming Peeta insisted that he and Katniss too had a secret wedding to have the traditions of District 12. The audience ate each crumb he gave right out of his hands when suddenly he made the world stop, “If it weren't for the baby." Shock, outrage filled the room. All of these people who'd been fine watching children fight to the death and suffer after they won for personal entertainment couldn't stand the fact that Katniss could be pregnant. The irony of it all, how smart Peeta had been on his feet made it hard for you to suppress the smile. As Caesar desperately tried to do damage control once again you noticed how everyone of the tribute's hands began linking, placing your free hand in Beetee’s who bobbed his head before holding Wiress’. Hands joined, you lifted them above your head increasing the audience's screams and Caesar was yelling for lights to be turned off, all this did was illuminate your figures in the low lights. 

Then you were being filed off of the pedestals and to the hallway. You instantly met eyes with Haymitch, holding some glass filled with some type of drink. You didn't say a word to him before taking it from his hand to take a drink. 

“Dealing with pre-game jitters with alcohol really seems like a great idea." He said sardonically, scoffing. He didn't try and grab the drink back though even when you scowled at him. Right when you'd taken another drink of the bubbly liquid it was Finnick who took the drink from your hand, handing it back to Haymitch. "What? Trouble in paradise?” He took a drink too.

“Just need you to be rational instead of hungover in the morning.” Finnick muttered, he was angry at something, that much was obvious. 

Haymitch took something off of his wrist and handed it to Finnick, “Show her this and she'll realize I gave it to you, since she won't ally with you of her own accord." It was a gold bangle and Finnick nodded as he slid it on his wrist. They were whispering something to each other and you pulled away to an Avox holding a tray of more bubbly drinks nearby. Grabbing one you nodded a thank you, swallowing it down as fast as you could before Finnick had grabbed it again, looking at you sternly.

“I'm not going to be hungover.” You rolled your eyes and he handed the second, nearly empty glass to Haymitch as well.

"Well you don't exactly make great decisions for yourself.” You rolled your eyes at him as he ran his fingers through his curls.

"What's your problem? I made them sympathetic, I did what I was supposed to!” You couldn't fathom why that would upset him, it was a performance and he did the same thing.

"You have a death wish, that's the problem, I'm not letting you die for me!” You stared into his gorgeous sea-green eyes and scoffed before turning around to walk straight back to your floor.

"Thank you, Haymitch.” You heard Finnick say before he was following you to the elevator.

"You're really gonna argue with me about what I said in the interview right before we head back into the arena?" You pressed the cold buttons before crossing your arms, refusing to look at him.

“When this started I begged you to talk to me, to stop punishing yourself for whatever you did six years ago to survive, but you still are. You didn't say anything until right before we headed back into the arena, informing the world all about how you plan to die in there.” The elevator opened and he stepped in as you followed.

“I don't plan too, I just expect it. I'm not going to keep going if you die."

“Yes, you are, Annie needs you, Mags needs you." He pointed to the bangle quickly to put off anyone who could be listening in, “Needs you. This insistence that you're going to die is ridiculous, angel, I'm not going to let you.”

             𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You stood backstage with Conway, having to consciously force your leg to stay still, to not keep tapping as you waited to do on stage. The air was chilly which wasn't helped by the thin material of your dress, it's low-cut, or the huge slit in it's side at least Conway got to be in a suit. Your eyes were glued to the screen where the male tribute from District 3 had just begun his interview.

“Now, how old are you?" Caesar asked, the boy was small, he couldn't be that old, it looked like the seat was going to swallow him whole.

“Thirteen." His voice was shaky and your ears started ringing. How were you supposed to do this, that was a child, a tiny kid whose family was sitting back home watching their baby boy be shipped off to certain death. You could feel the tears approaching and your breathing getting more shallow. Cold hands were suddenly on yours.

“Are you okay?" Conway asked, as you began to hyperventilate.

“I can't do this." You whispered out as the first tears began falling, “That's a little boy, I can't-"

“I get it." Conway reassured, his big, brown eyes trying to comfort you. “You've got this though, you can't do anything about him being here, but you can make a good impression with the audience. We have to focus on that no matter how screwed up you feel like it is. Go up there and do what you have to do.” What you have to do, charm them, be sweet, and pretty, but a little mysterious. Finnick had all types of angles for you. You gave a final look back at Conway who tried to give a reassuring smile, but you could tell he was bothered too. Caesar's booming voice called your name and you stepped out into the bright lights of the stage. Beaming for the audience, waving, giggling at their cheers.

“I have to say, everyone was blown away with how charming you seemed at the tribute parade, but then that training score came out. How did you do that?" Caesar asked as the two of you sat down, the audience murmuring in agreement. 

“Well, Caesar, a lady has to have some secrets for herself." You made your laugh airy and winked at the laughing audience. “I have to save some things for the show, don't I?"

Caesar nodded, laughing along. "Of course! You know when I saw your face at the reaping I couldn't help but feel like I recognized you from somewhere, did anyone else feel that way?” The audience cheered out agreements and your stomach knotted. What was he talking about? You certainly didn't know how they knew you. "I mean this was literally keeping me up at night.”

You leaned forward, the dress putting a little too much on display, but you persisted. "Well do tell.”

"Months ago we were doing a catch up piece of Finnick Odair and you were in some of it, very briefly, but you were.” The audience was wild, they adored Finnick and loved any type of connection. Your stomach clenched, how were you supposed to seem in love with Conway when this was being chosen for you.

You blushed, “Oh yes, Caesar! I didn't imagine anyone would remember that!" 

"Well we did and we love it!” He proclaimed and the audience agreed. "So tell me, just between us-” The audience laughed and you did too. "Are you and a certain victor pining for your return to tell us all some very exciting news?” You shook your head slowly, trying not to look as embarrassed as you felt. “No? I don't believe that, look at you, charming and obviously extremely talented. There was definitely something going on when that program came out, not anymore?" Time was running out and this was not going the way you planned.

So new plan, “No, Ceasar.” Your voice was light and sounded shaky on purpose. You shook your head.

"Oh, so this is a tale of heartbreak?” He asked and the audience cooed. "Well if you win, he'll have to take you back won't he? I'm sure we won't let up until he does!” He laughed and the crowd seemed to agree with him. 

“I'm afraid it's much more complicated than that." You smoothed out your dress even if it needed no smoothing.

"Oh! Is there another man as well, we live for the drama!” You nodded slowly.

"Yes and I'm afraid winning won't help me in either case.” You were alluding and there was only a few seconds left. Caesar stood up.

"Well now you have to win this thing, so we can all know about this tale of romance. It's going to be keeping me on the edge of my seat!" 

“And I'd love to share it with all of you." You let a few tears fall as you blew a kiss out to the audience who adored it. The two of you bowed as you walked off the stage. Heart pounding rapidly as you were escorted out to the hall where Finnick, Ondine, and your designer Cambrie stood.

“Oh you looked divine!" Cambrie announced, hands on your shoulders. “All of my friends are going to want to sponsor you, I'm certain you'll be the talk of Panem, leaving us on a cliffhanger like that!" She was basically shrieking in joy when she got distracted by some hors d'oeuvres an Avox was holding.

You buried your head in your hands as Finnick approached, “I didn't know they were going to side swipe you like that. It could be good for your image though." You were now hyper aware of the eyes on the both of you even if technically he was your mentor just giving you advice.

“Could be bad for that, unless he picked up what I was putting down." You pointed at the screen where Conway sat with Caesar.

“So Conway, I'm sure all of us were very impressed by your training score, a big, strong man like you, what's your strategy?" Caesar asked and the audience made comments under their breath, acting as if they were also part of the conversation. 

“Let's just say I know what I'm up against and am confident in the people I've decided to trust." Looking at him made you see flashes of your childhood, of him crabbing with your family as kids, hair billowing in the wind as he made sure you didn't slip on the water covering the boat’s deck.

Caesar nodded, “Well alright, making us wait for tomorrow as well?"

Conway smiled that kind, loving smile he gave everyone, “I guess you could say that.”

"Now everyone is dying to know if you have a special girl back home, I mean you’re a good looking guy and even girls in the Capitol are swooning.”

"Well, it's a lot more complicated than that, Caesar.” Conway and his boyish charm was sure to bring in more sponsors as well. Caesar took a second, looking at Conway and the audience with as much drama as he could, like he was slowly connecting the dots.

“You're not saying what I think you're saying are you?" He asked and the crowd screamed in agreement, eating it up.

Conway adjusted his shirt collar, “Regretfully, I might be."

“Well isn't this straight out of a fairytale." A dark, corrupted one if that. “That sure complicates things doesn't it?"

Conway nodded, “Yes."

“You're certainly going to be keeping all of us on our toes, a love triangle. Well I certainly wish you the best of luck in your endeavors." Caesar laughed. What luck? Only one ‘choice’ would be alive if you won.

“Thank you, Caesar. All I can say is even if it's doomed, hopefully she doesn't pick the one who already broke her heart.” Even if it wasn't meant that way to you it felt threatening, hopefully you didn't or he'd be forced to kill you? You honestly had no idea what the best outcome was, maybe him asking you to take care of his family before sacrificing himself? But now you were overtly aware that you not only had him observing you, but all of Panem desperately wanting to know where you would land. 

            𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You were laying on the bed, hands covering your face as Finnick went on and on about how self-destructive you were. Maybe he was right, but you didn't see why it mattered. It's not like you were going to do anything intentional, you'd just do what you could to get Katniss out of the arena alive and be with Finnick.

“How are we supposed to do this if you don't believe you can survive?” He was pacing the room,"The moment that gong rings you need to come find me, I need my eyes on you.”

"I will, Finnick! But you need to focus on other things too.” You defended, sighing.

"How am I supposed to do that when the person I love the most is a danger to herself?” He stopped moving for a moment to stare at you, even with your face hidden in your hands you could feel his eyes burning into you.

You finally moved your hands,"I'm not! I just want to go to sleep, Finnick, can't we just rest?"

“We can sleep when I can rest well knowing you're not going to make impulsive decisions or give up if I get hurt. Don't be dependent on my life, angel, you deserve to live." You stood up only to walk to the open bathroom door and begin removing your makeup. 

“I don't know what you want me to say, Finnick." He followed you and stood behind you watching you in the mirror. You were passive to his pleas, you couldn't understand why it mattered so much to him. If he died it's not like he would know if you did too and if he lived there were plenty of other women who would be glad to comfort him, plus the revolution would keep him distracted.

There was a pause as you continued with your routine before he removed the bottle from your hands and turned you to face him, he'd always been much stronger than you and there was no use trying to release yourself. 

“That your life matters to you just as much as it does to me and I want you to believe it when you say it."

You sighed, “Finnick I will do whatever you tell me to do, I'll stay right by your side if you want me too. All I want is to be with you, that's all that matters to me."

He closed his eyes, exhaling shakily, “I can't believe I let us get so codependent." You watched a tear make its way down his cheek and felt you swarmed with guilt. “I can't make this better overnight no matter how badly I want to, but I do want you by me every second in that arena. Don't you dare go sacrificing yourself for someone, anyone. Angel, I can't live without you either.” His warm arms brought you to him, caught in his embrace as the guilt overwhelmed the numbness. "We're both getting out of there alive, no matter what it takes.” He whispered and although your brain told you not to believe him, to accept your fate you would trust him to the grave so you nodded your head into his shoulder. 

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so much for reading and all the support I've been receiving, I love you all so much and am glad you're enjoying my little thoughts. next chapter we can finally get into the games of it all, not gonna like this chapter was a lot of fun to write but took forever because I was having too many thoughts. if you enjoyed it feedback, likes, reblogs, and comments are all super appreciated. my inbox is always open! I love you all, thank you again! 💋

taglist: @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @darlingsoulbeautfulthoughts @thatonegayloser616 @kybermp3 @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @ravensinthedaylight @innercreationflower @uhnanix @aesthetic0cherryblossom @yourdailymemedelivery @ang3lflor @maxinehufflepuffprincess @prettybiching @miserablebl00d

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

UNDERTALE ASK BLOG - PRESENTATION (2024 UPDATE)

Hello! I’m Myfanwi, 27 years old and adoptive parent of two chinchillas, Thor and Mjöllnir. I have ADHD and I'm currently struggling to have my autism diagnosis.

I’m a French writer (she/they, I don’t care), so my English might be weird sometimes, but I’ll do my best. I’m currently looking for a job in France, and failing it a lot.

I started this blog on February 3rd 2021, and we're still here and active. I'm taking Undertale (canon and AU) headcanon requests from people and answering them with my characters.

The askbox is always open so don't hesitate to participate!

I also write Undertale French fanfiction here and here.

1 - You can ask whatever you want, except heavy sexual things. If I'm not comfortable with an ask, I will say it. You can send as many asks as you want. The askbox is always open, I don't close it.

2 - I’m ok with angst and touchy subjects. I’m also very very LGBT+ friendly (I’m aroace and enby btw).

3 - I don’t do match-ups except during some rare events. I don't do RP interactions (= answering people asking things to the characters directly), only headcanons (= writing things ABOUT the characters).

4 - Please, select a maximum of 12 characters per ask. The character list is right under this section. By default, if not mentioned, I’ll go with the main skeletons: Undertale, Underfell, Underswap, Horrortale, Swapfell & Fellswap Gold Sans & Papyrus.

5 - You can ask for interactions between several of my characters too, even if they are from different alternative universes. For convenience, they are magically all living in the same world. You can have more info right here [The link is coming soon, I'm reworking on it].

6 - I'm fine with personal questions and asks about my fanfictions too!

7 - Fanarts and fanfiction are welcome. Don't hesitate to tag me so I can reblog your art!

8 - If you find a spelling mistake, don't hesitate to point it out. I prefer these comments on recent posts, as I have more than 2000 posts on my blog and can't physically review them all.

Click on a name to get more info about the character!

If there's no link attached to a character's name, please refer to this old post for a small description. The character sheets are currently being rewritten, but it takes time.

Undertale : Sans, Papyrus, Toriel, Asgore, Undyne, Alphys, Frisk (Adult), Chara (Adult), Mettaton, Gaster, Grillby, Muffet, Burgerpants, Asriel, Flowey, Gerson.

Underfell: Sans (Red), Papyrus (Edge), Undyne (Storm), Alphys (Amy), Grillby (Ash)

Underswap: Sans (Blue), Papyrus (Honey), Undyne (Abigail), Alphys (Savage)

Horrortale: Sans (Oak), Papyrus (Willow), Toriel (Old Lady), Grillby (Ember)

Horrorswap: Sans (Nugget), Papyrus (Pumpkin)

Horrorfell: Sans (Copper), Papyrus (Chief)

Horrorswapfell: Sans (Bear), Papyrus (Tiger)

Swapfell: Sans (Nox), Papyrus (Rus)

Fellswap Gold: Sans (Wine), Papyrus (Coffee)

Outertale: Sans (Moon), Papyrus (Sun)

Dancetale: Sans (Rambo), Papyrus (Salsa)

Dancefell: Sans (Rumba), Papyrus (Tango)

Farmtale: Sans (Sam), Papyrus (Ben)

Mafiatale: Sans (Demon), Papyrus (Creeper)

Mafiafell: Sans (Fang), Papyrus (Torpedo)

Other skeletons: Ink, Error, Disbelief!Papyrus (Delta), Dustale!Sans (Dune) - Killer!Sans (Killer)

HELPFUL LINKS

Characters birthdays

MASTERPOSTS

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38

FANFICTIONS

Completed - The Doppelganger [Underfell & Horrortale] | Out of the closet [Undertale] | 7 a.m. in the neighborhood [Undertale]

In progress - Horrortale: Rotten Apple [Horrortale] | What is best for humankind [Undertale prequel] | No weakness [Underfell] | Remember the good days [Undertale] | A heart in a cage [Undertale]

[angellayercake]

Into the Lu-niverse

@ghelullu x Cardinal Copia's Black Suit | NSFW | 3000 words

Happy Birthday Lu!! I hope you have had an amazing day full of joy and torturous thoughts of Copia. I know you enjoyed the fic already but here are some bonus gifs from here and it should be known that this is now officially the prequel of Smudge. warnings: copia being sexy in his black suit, blow jobs kinda, hand jobs kinda, jizzing in pants definitely.

You hated him, loathed him, detest and abhor him. You were seething quietly at your desk using every ounce of will power you possess not to look at him right now. When he lets out a muffled aha your resolve breaks and you glance over just in time to watch him roll back upright from where he was bent over digging through the bottom drawer of one of the many filing cabinets that are stuffed into the cramped office.

Not so long ago you had asked why he hadn’t asked for a larger office along with his promotion to the leader of the ghost project but he had brushed you off saying he enjoyed his cosy little office, just enough room for the two of you. At the time you had enjoyed the flush of happiness that had given you but that was before the new wardrobe arrived. Before you realised exactly how much of your day was spent looking directly at him.

This had never not been a problem you supposed, even in his cassock days. He had been awkwardly charming since you first met but the layers of fabric he wore day to day had been protecting your sanity far more than you ever realised. Because his new position had not just brought with it a new schedule, more work, more ghouls and siblings coming and going from the office. It had brought with it a new wardrobe and along with it the stretching of your professionalism to the very limit.

The two of you were friends, well friendly, you thought. Both of you quite reserved taking your time to open up but friendship had been inevitable when you shared so many interests. The tediousness of the endless ministry paperwork fading away as you spent your days discussing the amount of historical inaccuracies in films or attempting to convince him to play games on anything newer than the old console he has. In that lull in the afternoon when both your energy drops you fall into your topic of the day and before you know it your work is done and you reach the worst part of the day. Leaving the office together, watching him methodically lock the door and go your separate ways for the evening.

Today though, that time couldn’t come quick enough. There was only one thing you could focus on and it definitely wasn't any of the work you were supposed to be doing! He had come strutting into the office in his new outfit and in a single moment destroyed all your brain function. He had twirled for you chattering excitedly and you had just sat there paralysed. If you had any sense left you might have felt awkward as he stood there waiting for a reaction. Somehow you managed to choke out something after watching him deflate in front of you before looking back at your work and not letting your eyes stray from your screen even as your mind was screaming and running in circles. 

You were friends, yes, as you had established but that didn’t mean there weren’t a lot of other feelings you had, and actively tried to suppress about the Cardinal. He was incredibly intelligent, always peppering your conversations with random facts and sharing his well thought out opinions with you. Some may have found it annoying but you found his little oohs and aahs endearing finding you can almost follow his train of thought just by listening carefully to his soft mutterings. He was disarmingly sweet, remembering the smallest details about your interests and preferences and surprising you with little gifts from his travels that made your heart swell and your eyes cloud doing your best to hide from him exactly how they affected you because he didn’t need to see you crying over a meaningless gift.

The hardest part to ignore though, harder than anything was how insanely hot he is. Even you can’t rationalise away the way he makes your breath catch if he looks at you a certain way or the urge you get to run your fingers through his hair first thing in the morning when he first takes off his biretta. He looks amazing, always with his carefully groomed moustache and sideburns lending a sharpness to his already defined features. Many times you have found yourself getting lost in his mismatched eyes or watching his full lips as he talks to you but you reign yourself in. Because you have to. As much as he looks good in his cassocks they made your attraction much easier to ignore than the new additions to his wardrobe.   

At a first glance it looked like a simple black suit but every single inch of it was tailored to him perfectly. His dog collar and shirt peaked out from under the stiff collar of his jacket framing his sharp jawline. The jacket itself was intricately designed with boxy sharp shoulders and suede panels that ended on sharp points, the deliberate lines encouraging the eye downwards. At the back the coattails reached down to his knees in similar dramatic points.

And the trousers, well, every stolen glance offered you a full view of all of him. They flared slightly at his ankle but from mid shin they clung to him like a second skin. You could see his shapely calves, knobbly knees, surprisingly thick toned thighs. Thighs had never been a problem for you before but you had to clench your fists to quell the urge to reach out and squeeze any time he came close. His ass was another surprise, how a man who spent as much time sitting in an office as he did had a shape like that you couldn’t understand and at his crotch, well the less you thought about that the better. 

You powered through your day doing your best to ignore the pointed looks he was giving you, clearly concerned by your unusual silence but you pushed through, thankful for once at the amount of work that has come across your desk today. You even work through your lunch only giving him a kurt thank you when he places a sandwich and a drink at the corner of your desk. The afternoon passes awkwardly as he attempts to lure you into conversation but you just can’t deal with him even as guilt starts to creep in at the edges of your mind. 

You watch the time on your screen click slowly towards an acceptable time for you to leave, doing your best to seem as absorbed in your work as possible until the number finally reaches five o’clock. You jump up from your desk like it is on fire, gathering your things as quickly as you can so you can make your escape. You can feel his eyes on you but you have to get away but quicker then you could think he is in your path. Not quite getting between you and the door but quite deliberately in your way he fixes you with an intense expression that pins you to the spot.

“Have I done something to upset you?” He asks, his voice filled with confusion and a touch of sadness. You immediately feel guilty but you are at a loss of how you can even begin to talk your way out of this. 

“No Cardinal it’s nothing.” Being confronted like this you can’t help but look him over. It’s one thing to bury your crush when he was draped in the layers of his fabric, you can pretend you just have a friendly relationship but looking him up and down in front of you sends an electric bolt of lust that is not as easy to ignore. 

“Then what is it?” His gaze is piercing and it is impossible to hide from. He watches you look him over and tilts his head like he has just figured something out. “Is it this?” he gestures up and down his body. “The new suit? Do you not like it?” A humourless laugh barks out of you beyond your control and he only looks more confused.

"No I ... I do, I swear, it's just…" You feel your face flush realising you are going have to either come up with something convincing very quickly or even worse, tell the truth. 

"...because I was a little worried it might be too tight…" He continues barely listening to your mumbling attempts at reassurance.

"No, it's, um... it's good," which hardly sounds better. Your tongue feels like lead, entirely uncooperative as you try to halt the self conscious spiral you seem to have started in him.

"It does show off quite a lot, you're right." His shoulders hunch as he smooths his hands down his stomach before patting at the curve of his belly. 

"No that's not what I said, but I mean, yes it does, but that's not…" You hiss in frustration at your inability to articulate anything. 

"Perhaps I don't have the body to pull this off…" He twists side to side looking himself over and you are sure counting off imaginary flaws he thinks you must be seeing.

"No you do, you really do, Copia will you just…" You take a deep breath even as he cuts you off again. You are going to have to tell him.

"Too much rigatone, perhaps if I cut back…" He pats his belly again and even in the middle of your pre confession panic you can’t help but find him a little adorable. As if he could look anything other than perfect. That was the whole problem.

"...No you look great, you have a great body…" Your cheeks flush even as you say it, part of you unable to believe you managed to get the words out. He pauses, attention suddenly focused back on you.

"I... I do?" He takes a step closer to you and your eyes drop to the ground. 

"W-well, um... yeah..." you stutter, all your confidence evaporating as quickly as it came.

"You've never said that before,” you can’t decide if he means it as a statement or a question but you fumble to fill the silence he has now left.

"Well you've always worn those cassocks and I've never seen you... like this...." You still can’t look at him so you gesture vaguely at him hoping it might be enough to convince him and allow you to finally escape. You were already planning the excuse you could use to call in sick tomorrow and maybe even the rest of the week. You weren’t sure when you would feel able to face him again.

"Are you lying? You're not looking at me." He steps closer again until his toes enter your narrow field of vision and you know if you were to look up you would be face to face. 

"No, damnit Copia, I'm not lying, you just..." You are at a loss for words, how do you even begin to tell him?

"What?" His gloved hand reaches for your chin gently, coaxing you to look up at him. You look into his eyes and you are done for, the cold white piercing through you even as his green eye seems softer, almost encouraging. 

"You look good, okay? Too good. Too damn good that it's distracting, and sexy and..." It’s like word vomit tumbling out of your mouth and beyond your control.

"Sexy? I'm... sexy?" Of course that is the part he gets stuck on.

"For fucks sake," you mutter warring between frustration and affection for this ridiculous man.

"You think I'm sexy?" he says his voice filled with disbelief. "You think.... I'm sexy," he continues teasingly stroking your chin softly and not letting you avert your gaze from him. "How long have you thought that?"

“If you are going to tease me I won’t say another thing,” you huff but the smug grin spreading across his face has the corners of your lips pulling up in spite of your protest.

 "But this suit... you find it distracting?" He runs his hands over his body like he can read your mind, sliding down his chest, across his belly and over his thighs.

"Yes. Very" Your mouth goes dry as you start to realise how much he is enjoying your confession.  

"Well then consider this my revenge." You shift back in confusion, tilting your head at him, but he reels with an arm around your waist until you are almost pressed against him.

"Revenge? For what?" You ask genuinely bemused by the turn of the conversation

"The way you have distracted me every day, listening to me talk, laughing at my jokes flashing me that beautiful smile…" He makes his intentions clear, tipping your head towards him, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips and back again. When you don’t pull away he closes the distance between you, capturing your lips in a much sweeter chaste kiss then you had been expecting. For a moment you don’t react, hardly able to believe what is finally happening but eventually you catch up, running your hands up his chest to feel that perfect tailoring for yourself. The kiss deepens naturally, his tongue teasing you until you open up for him as he pulls you closer, his large hands squeezing where they have come to rest at your waist.  

“Why don’t I show you exactly how much I like it?” You whisper, pulling away just enough to get some air between you. With one finger against his chest you walk him backwards until he is leant against his desk. He watches you with heavy lidded eyes and you swallow hard, still somewhat in disbelief that he wants you too as you drop to your knees and finally give in to the thoughts that had been threatening to plague you all day. 

Your first touch is tentative, following the seam up the centre of his thigh with the tip of your finger and watching him tremble under your barest touch. Flattening your palms you feel the strong muscle just underneath the soft surface when you squeeze gently at his thighs and bask in the soft moan you draw from him. You let your fingers run over the zipper of his trousers allowing yourself the privilege of actually looking now and the sight makes your mouth water. He is already thickening in his trousers, his shaft growing fat where it is held against his leg by the tight fabric. You can see everything, even more pronounced now as he becomes aroused, the shape of his head pushing against the fabric and leaving a faint wet spot and his balls sit heavy on the other side of his inseam. 

You cup them gently in your hand feeling the weight of him against your palm even as he strains against the fabric. He shifts against the desk spreading his legs for you, giving you enough room to get as close as you like. With just the tip of your tongue you lap at his head and are treated to just the faintest taste of his precum that has leaked into his trousers and you can’t help but moan. Between the slow steady massage of your fingers on his balls and your teasing licks you feel him growing harder against his thigh. Mouthing down his length you marvel at the size of him, the tip of his cock now sitting a good way down his thigh. 

You risk looking up at him and get captivated by the sight. He is watching you intently, his pupils blown so wide you can barely see the different colours of his eyes. His hair has fallen out of his usual slicked back style and falls across his face swaying in time with his panting breaths. He blinks at you as if confused as to why you have stopped and his gloved hand weaves its way into your hair, easing your slackend mouth back against him as he begins to plead with you. 

“Please don’t stop,” he gasps even as you begin to nuzzle at him once again, following the shape of him with the tip of your nose as he whines. You stroke his length with dextrous fingers until he starts to push his hips up slowly, thrusting and grinding against your palm. If you thought he was sexy before it had nothing on this, watching him come undone just for you. You close your mouth over the head of his cock again, the wet patch having grown significantly larger and the taste of him stronger. His thrusts become more insistent, his grip in your hair tightening and his other hand landing on your shoulder keeping you exactly where he wants you. The hand not held firmly between his strong thighs slides up underneath the tails of his jacket until you grip his perfect ass and pull him even closer. 

“Oh c…cazzo,” he stutters out. You are both getting too carried away, you should at least undo his trousers but the thought of breaking contact with him for even a second seems unthinkable as his hips start to stutter against your face. His trousers are sodden now between your spit and his precum so you taste as well as feel when he starts to cum, twitching and moaning against you. You can’t stop sucking him, feeling the pulses of aftershock against your tongue until he guides you away when his pleasure gets obscured by oversensitivity. 

“Amore,” he chuckles breathlessly, looking down at you with undisguised affection, making your heart almost beat out of your chest. "You ruined my new trousers.” The two of you dissolve into giggles, giddy from the sudden new turn your relationship has taken. You rest your forehead against his soft tummy as you both catch your breath.

“I can’t say I am sorry,” you say with a grin almost splitting your face.

“And I can’t say I am disappointed.” He sighs, lifting you back to your feet with surprising ease. “But I do have to return the favour.” He smirks before pulling you into another perfect kiss.

[caesarflickermans]

Thoughts one week from sotr???

I feel strangely calm and it does not feel real.

I've accepted the fact that this prequel will likely touch much more on characters I deeply care about, but I'll withhold judgement until I have seen their on-page presence. I know Caesar will be there, but I hope that will be limited to some snide remarks on Haymitch's part during the interviews, hopefully without comments on his family or age, but I doubt it. Plutarch I'd like to see and not see, and I hope for him not to play a too strong role.

Despite what I've said elsewhere, I'd be pleasantly surprised if the victory tour doesn't occur in the prequel, so it can be my free grounds for creative writing.

I'm genuinely curious to find out what the main part of the fandom thinks about the book. In contrast to TBOSAS, this one touches on aspects that are near and dear to many fans—Haymitch, the 50th Games, District 12 at a relevant time. I can see this going either way from the most beloved book in the entire series to Cursed Child vibes. Maybe it'll be both in a splitting the fandom way, depending on who you ask. I have my thoughts and feelings on the excerpts we received so far, but I think these are secondary to my main concerns that touch on the characters I care about.

I'm also in collaboration with Scholastic now, and will receive a fan package sometime this or next week depending on shipping. That alone feels very surreal. I'm utterly grateful for that collaboration both as a fan and my own career—knowing how campaigns work is quite helpful for politics jobs. As I'm not much of a collector and already ordered the UK edition I prefer over the US edition they'll send me, I've been thinking about reaching out to my local English bookstore if they'd like to do a giveaway just knowing how long it took last time to receive English editions here.

And I think that's quite a strong indicator for how I interact with the book series; so much about it has changed from being a mere consumer of the written text to being a creative first and foremost, and having a strong group of long-standing fans I call friends. Like, I'd never have assumed I'd ever be friends with or write letters to PanemPropaganda's admin!

As you've seen, that also affects my thoughts on the prequel, as they predominantly are concerned with my creativity and any community. The text itself is so secondary to my experience of the book series. And I know there's people out there who'll excitedly type out paragraphs about how I am a fake fan for valuing my own creative expression over that of the original text, but it's the place I've settled in after over a decade in the fandom—and spaces like these are perhaps necessary to be an *active* fan for as long as I have been.

That said, first thing I'll do upon receiving my digital preorder is to press ctrl+f and check up on how often my favourites are mentioned. Based on that, I'll know what kind of feelings I can have when reading the book. I hope I will sigh in relief.

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Triad Part 1 — How You Met Cas and Az

A Cazriel x Reader Headcanon

Series Masterlist

A/N: This is a headcanon on steroids, haha! Kind of a prequel in the same universe as this one. I’ve got a few more in the works but feel free to shoot me an ask if you have any requests!

You met Cassian and Azriel when you were sent from your tiny border village to Velaris, hand-picked by Madja as one of her healer’s apprentices.

Cassian first; even through teeth gritted against pain, he’d been a shameless flirt.

“Wow, you’re really good with your hands,” he said, flashing a cheeky grin over his shoulder as you wrapped it in a bandage to keep it stable while his muscles finished healing.

You patched him up a few more times before meeting Az, but eventually the Shadowsinger showed up with a gash in his back, bisecting his wings.

It was clearly not an injury from active combat, nor did it seem like torture. It was a threat. Using power for power’s sake.

You’d made eye contact, and your eyes drooped at the corners like you knew not to mention it, but your concern needed to express itself somehow. Like your empathy for others was woven into your skin.

When you finished your apprenticeship, Rhysand offered you a job in his court as a field healer. Later, you’d learn it was Azriel who’d recommended you.

In hindsight, you should have seen it sooner. When Rhys needed a job done right, no questions asked, he sent his dream team. The general, the spy, and the healer.

You spent 5 decades convinced the connection between the three of you was purely platonic.

It was Azriel who started suspecting the mating bond first. He felt his shadows tugging him towards you like they’d already sniffed you out. They never listened properly around you unless someone was in mortal danger; preferring to lap at your feet like gentle waves. Sometimes, one would escape from his grasp and snake its way up your body and you’d giggle—it was over for him the first time heard it. So he kept quiet, either biding his time until the bond snapped and proved him right or left him doomed to an eternity of pining.

You were worth the risk.

Cassian, on the other hand, went straight to Rhys when he started suspecting. Just barged right into the High Lord’s study like he owned the place and draped himself over the armchair in the corner.

“What’s wrong, brother?” Rhys asked, secretly grateful for a distraction; he’d been doing paperwork all morning

“I just got done training with Y/N,” Cassian grumbled.

“Congratulations, or I’m sorry that happened?”

“I dunno, it’s been weird lately. Like my siphons aren’t working properly, or something. I can feel my magic flowing through my body when I’m around her and… it’s so fucking stupid, Rhys, but…” Cas trailed off, too afraid to say the words in case they weren’t true.

“You’re wondering if it could be the mating bond?” Cas buried his head in his hands and nodded. Rhys laughed at him. “Well, just from looking at you I think that it probably is, but I can take a look and see if your magic looks any different.”

“Do it.” There was no hesitation. He had to know.

Rhys slipped into Cassian’s mind and it was pure chaos. The red threads of his magic were tangled up with shimmering gold and deep violet.

Rhys pulls out and Cassian’s head snaps up, wide eyes locking on Rhys’s. Cas’s face lit up sight of the High Lord’s shit-eating smirk.

“Really?” he asked, letting the words escape atop a soft exhale.

“Congratulations, brother,” Rhys confirmed.

Cassian attempted to keep it a secret; he didn’t want to force you into anything you’re not ready for or cloud your judgement. But, Mother, he wanted to scream it from the top of Ramiel and let all of Prythian know that you’re his.

So one night, when he and Az were in Windhaven to check on Devlon, he spilled his secret over pints of ale in front of the fire at Rhys’s mother’s cottage.

“Wanna know a seeeeecret?” He slurred, lifting one finger off his glass to point at Az, squinting at the shadowsinger from across the room.

“You’re keeping a secret?” Az asked, one eyebrow raising alongside the corners of his lips. His expectations were low; most of the time, Cassian’s “secrets” were only secret to the male himself — he was usually the last to know.

But when Cassian leans forward and whispers, “Y/N’s my mate,” it takes all of Azriel’s hard-earned self control to keep his magic to himself. The bond was angry, wanted to lash out, but he forced an amused smile onto his lips and mumbled his congratulations into another sip of ale.

After that, Az tried so hard to keep his shadows under control. After all, he had only started suspecting his own bond a few weeks ago, and it’s not like he laid any claim to you, or anything, but… His magic seemed to think otherwise, and the longer he kept it contained, the harder it got to control.

And then the bond snapped while the three of you were on a mission together in the mortal lands. It didn’t snap for you, though, so they try to act normal around each other but it’s SO HARD, like their magic is butting them against each other. (It is, because they’re stupid).

Rhysand picked up on it as soon as you returned, the tension between the two of them that hadn’t been there when you left. Both men came to him with their concerns, and even though he suspected that there weren’t two separate bonds but one single thread of gold tying the three of you together, he kept quiet. He sat back, watching as their glares and muttered insults turned to heated arguments.

You were baffled at the abrupt change in their dynamic. You suspected it had something to do with a female, but that was none of your business. They’d eventually work out their differences; they were brothers, after all.

A part of you, deep down, felt burning, white-hot rage every time you thought about her, this nameless, faceless female. You bury the burn in work; whenever you’re not in the field, you pick up extra shifts with Madja, healing until you’re too exhausted to do anything but grab a sandwich from the cafe near your apartment and fall into bed. It’s the only way sleep comes without a fight.

It takes a few weeks for the pressure building between them to boil over; your shift is almost over when the two Illyrians show up, bruised and bloody. They stand in the doorway to your office, shoulders hunched and eyes downcast. Something in you snaps at the sight of them, that white-hot anger bursts into raging golden flames.

“What the fuck has gotten into you two lately?” You yell, crossing the small room in two long strides to poke a finger into each of their chests, reveling in the twin winces on their faces.

Cassian opens his mouth to speak but you glare at him to shut him up. “Actually, no, I don’t want to hear it. Whatever it is, you gotta figure that shit out because this is ridiculous.” You pause to take a deep breath before continuing. “The two of you have been so fucking annoying lately, I told Rhys not to send me back out with either of you until you pull your heads out of your asses.”

Like they were two halves of the same whole, their faces fell in unison. Warmth bloomed from your navel inwards, filling you with magic like molten caramel. The last thing you saw before you passed out were the apologies lurking behind their eyes, and then everything went black.

[ryuzakemo128]

Beneath Your Depths ..... Do You Feel Anything?

Pairing: Poly! 141 x Reaper! Forensic Pathologist! Female Reader

Masterlist - Prequel - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

Content Warning: Graphic description of you and what you really look like. You are Death aka the pale horse, the grim reaper, the main dude bossing around the little reapers under your employ thing. Prequel to the series of one shot parts I have written before this one.

Note: If you prefer to remain unaware about how I want to depict you. Feel free to skip this one. It won't affect the future parts or anything. Just like an extra plate of food, you are always free to say no thanks, I already have enough here.

I won't add a summary either because I don't want to spoil anything for this one, and I want to know if anyone will like this or not.

You are always certain you knew everything there was to be in life and death. Knowing both worlds so intimately. What else could you be?

Abhorrent. Antediluvian. Colossal. Eldritch by some people's standards. The creature standing before the four of them, the four men, it was nothing like they have ever seen before.

Ethereal. Most of the time you are formless. An incarnate of death in flesh, a silent spectator of mortality's dance. But now, as you stand before the creature, the air thickens, and your form solidifies. Price's eyes narrow, taking in your sudden presence. Soap's hand tightens around his combat knife. Ghost's grip on his rifle relaxes slightly, his gaze flicking to the side to assess the new player. Gaz's eyes, however, light up with an unreadable emotion.

Necromantic as you are in fact one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. You were huge. Bugger than any monster they have come across in the past. So otherworld, outer worldly and powerful, you could feel the tremor of fear emanating from the men. Fear of death. Common among humans. Uncommon amongst other monsters.

What did they have to fear from you? You were just as freakish as they are right?

A primeval they called you. A creature related to the beginning of everything. A creature so old none could possibly comprehend you without taking the overarching risk of madness over taking them.

Some priests and nuns claim you as unholy. But you are as natural as the earth beneath their feet and the air in their lungs.

After you consume someone or something a putrid smell clings to you, your flesh, your bones and the essence of your blood. Yes. You have blood. Yes. You can bleed. No. You are incapable of dying. But you are able to appear dead to anyone who would have or have tried to kill you in the past.

Your exoskeleton is there if someone where to squint hard enough to see the shape beneath the endless smog surrounding your gargantuan form. Born of star and moon, you have no reason to harm outside your predefined nature.

You have no reason of knowing why they were there before you. They weren't supposed to die just yet. There time had not come close to arriving. You knew this. Your body knew this and your soul declined their intrepid touch.

Necrotizing the living and bringing them unto the other side where they were supposed to come to when it was their time to go. Ritualistic in behaviour but never quite fitting in. This creature before them is you.

Predatory in nature much like the sharks, the bears, the wolves, and the many animals that kill in order to endure.

Insidious, malevolent, deranged and yet eerily benevolent. Not outright kind mind you. Death is anything but kind in the hearts and minds of mankind. But for you? It's a job. Its a promise. Its a wish. Its a release.

You don't wish to end things for the sake of ending them. No matter how many might find that hard to believe or reject it completely.

The ghastly chthonic array of the deceased walking past you like you weren't even there. Like you weren't the only who brought them there. A cycle of nature you were in tune with without having to remember the tune or even explain the why of it. Wave after wave like the ocean eroding away stone and metal beneath its watery depths.

Macabre. Visceral.

Charnel. Sepulchral. Thanatoid.

Abysmal in some aspects and reflected in most cultures as something or someone most feared. Yet here you are, a being of the void, standing in front of men who have seen hell and lived to tell the tale. You look into Price's eyes and for a moment, you see a flicker of recognition, a glimmer of understanding that you are not here to do harm but to uphold a balance that has been skewed.

It didn't matter what they thought of you, You have a schedule to keep in time with. You can't afford to mess any of it up. With each heavy footstep away from the four men. Each thump on the ground beneath your feet resonated through the air like a silent drum beat. You felt the tension ease slightly as your form grew more indistinct.

Price spoke up, his voice a gravelly rumble that seemed to echo around the abandoned warehouse. "What the fuck was that?" Soap's eyes didn't leave the spot where you had been standing, knuckles white around the grip of his knife. Ghost was the first to move, holstering his weapon and walking towards the spot where your ethereal presence had been. He knelt down, inspecting the ground with a keen eye.

"Looks like it left something behind," he said, picking up a small, gleaming object that looked out of place amidst the dust and grime. It was a tooth, shaped unlike any creature they had encountered before. The serrated edge and crystalline sheen hinted at a power that was beyond their understanding.

A small piece of obsidian with red under glow just beneath the surface.

[horizon-verizon]

I don't think I've ever seen such a fandom activity drop-off following a season finale like I have here. I seriously wonder if the HotD writers managed the perfect kind of bad writing that kills a fandom, rather than fan the flames with controversy in a way Season 8 at least managed to do in the short-term. It actually gives post Rise of Skywalker vibes. What's that Jenny Nicholson quote that came out of it? "The worst thing a franchise ending can do is make you feel kind of stupid and embarrassed for being so excited about it in the first place." And we're not even at the end, yet... it kind of feels like it.

In my observations it is because a lot of the season brought up both many of the same arguments for why the last season didn't come up to some's (bk readers but also those who saw a lot of bad or out-of-touch writing there) expectations OR/AND a lot of locals just got really bored. Most of all, I think it has to do with how many fans have grown very tired of either strict book fans either spoiling events (some weren't even actual spoilers, but that's a digression) or unwilling to rehash the ol arguments about "reliability", "adaptation", and the showrunner's superior vision.

For me personally, it's the first (I ended up repeating myself at least twice before I just stopped and gave short answers to some asks, sometimes with links to past posts, here on Tumblr) AND because I am embroiled in an intense job search.

I only watched the first 3 (70s) and 3 prequel Star Movies (Hayden and Natalie) of the Star Wars franchise and I prefer the prequels but i also am not at all knowledgeable about the lore nor do I see myself really getting into it. So idk what the online fandom was like after RoS, but I'll take your word for it. It's crazy and kinda sad (even though I dislike this show and do not plan on watching its 3rd season just for its impact and encouragement for many people to think certain things about certain things, I won't get into it here you can see my tags in my pinned post) how some fans feel the way Nicholson describes.

But I also don't know since plenty of people still talk excitedly about some aspects of HotD or all of it, esp on TikTok.

[lastoneout]

As someone who's curious about star trek: where would you recommend I start? It's a lil overwhelming, but yall seem to be having fun!

Oh lord that is the question isn't it. Honestly the real answer is anywhere, while all of the shows take place in the same universe aside from Picard and Lower Decks they don't really require a huge amount of knowledge about any other series(and hell if you don't mind not getting some references and enjoy raunchy comedy with a heart of gold shining within it Lower Decks is a really fun time), they really do all stand on their own and even ones that are prequels or continuations like Prodigy and Strange New Worlds are pretty self contained.

Personally though(and people will likely kill me for this but whatever) I started with the 2009 Star Trek film and I legit do think it does a really good job of getting a new audience the info they need on how the universe works and who some of the big characters in The Original Series are while also being fun and accessible and, crucially, not a huge time sink. I think a LOT of people get intimidated out of Trek because most of the shows are long as fuck and while I say this with love...not all of them hit the ground running. So yeah, it's snappy, it's exciting, it preserves whats important, and it's basically designed as an entry point, so it's worth a watch. And I'm just a huge sucker for Chris Pine, his Kirk is a bit more openly feral than the original and I honestly love that for him <3

However!! I would NOT recommend watching the other two films, Into Darkness and Beyond, right away. Star Trek '09 is essentially an AU of the Original Series so the story is unique, but Into Darkness is just a remix of The Wrath of Khan and NOT A GOOD ONE at that! Plus it's just...kinda dark and miserable and deviates heavily from the established feel of Star Trek that every other show managed to hold onto, which sucks. If you really wanna watch Beyond you can, and you genuinely should at some point regardless, it also is an original story that stands on it's own and to be honest is the best film of the trilogy and one of my favorite Star Trek anythings ever. It's got all the good Trek energy from the original shows while still keeping it's own identity and that's a joy to watch. So yeah, if you start with '09 I would recommend diving into a show before continuing. And maybe just not watching Into Darkness at all. It's bad.

Now, if you are a fan of animated shows for older kids like Avatar The Last Airbender, Star Trek Prodigy is genuinely a GREAT entry point. It is technically a sequel to Voyager but it is also it's own story with new main characters and it's legit meant as a way to get kids into Star Trek for the first time so it's very accessible while still being engaging and unique, and they explain stuff very clearly in a way that never feels patronizing or like it's talking down to the viewers. I legit got tear-y eyed watching the scene where they explain Starfleet just because I'm so glad it exists to welcom people in to a world I love so dearly. That and it's also SO good like I cannot stress enough this show fucking rules. It even has a nonbinary character in the main cast who I adore!! I love the animation and the whole cast and the story and just ough 100/10 for sure. I would even say for people who prefer ATLA style shows over big sci-fi/action films this is the better start than '09, so it's up to you.

Moving on, as much as I love it I'm not entirely sure if I'd recommend The Next Generation as a starting point, if only because the first two seasons are REALLY rough. Like they def have some good episodes, one of my faves of the whole series is in season 2, but it's clear the show needed a couple of seasons to figure itself out before it really took off. I personally did watch TNG after Star Trek '09, but I have a very high threshold for...weird and kinda bad sci-fi so idk, take that as you will. I was willing to buckle down and get through the weird because I knew how good it was going to get, but that's just me. However, I will say once TNG gets it's legs under it there is no looking back, it gets SO good that basically all Trek shows that came after it up until very recently have been living in it's shadow for better or worse. It does ofc have some issues with racism and misogyny and other isms that are clearly due to it coming out in the 80s, but it's also incredibly progressive for not only it's time but often times ours, and overall it's a phenomenal show that is absolutely worth watching and was a lot of people's introductions to Star Trek, so it's a decent start if you don't mind dealing with some weird energy at the start.

As for Voyager, I won't lie, I fucking love it! It's also fairly self-contained, it doesn't even take place in the same part of the universe as the rest of the shows aside from Prodigy and so you don't need a lot of series knowledge to follow it. It is one of the...campier shows, def gets weird as hell at some points but it's got this wonderful spirit at the core of it that imo it always seems to find it's way back to. It is sadly a product of it's time, however, and the first officer Chakotay, while certainly not the worst Native American rep I've seen, certainly isn't the best either. I've heard Prodigy does a very good job at correcting this, but Prodigy came out like 25 years after Voyager so yeah, it is something to keep in mind if that's gonna be a deal-breaker for you. The show does at least let him be a person outside of The Problematic Bit and I appreciate that, it gives him room to shine without the baggage of writers who have no clue what they're doing weighing him down and thus he's genuinely a really great character and probably one of the best first officers in all of Trek, and again I have seen FAR worse bad rep.

Aside from that while it does get weird in it's own bad sci-fi way, all of Trek is weird in that way sometimes, and anyone who says otherwise has no clue what they're talking about. I really enjoyed Voyager, I like it more than The Next Generation for sure and is a better jumping on point than it as well. It does reference a lot of stuff from TNG though and some characters do make a reappearance, but again it's really not that hard to get the gist as the show is more than willing to explain itself. Also it had the first female captain and truly Janeway is peak I would die for her, and the opening theme makes me feel shrimp emotions.

As much as I love Lower Decks I would not recommend it as a starter show, it's very referential and it has some Pretty Bad Episodes, the end of season 2 is dead to me, and it's also an adult comedy so if that's not your vibe you won't enjoy it. I do think it's a wonderful show but yeah, def targeted at adult fans who like some vulgarity(Trek isn't exactly a kids show but it does try to stay away from swearing and sex jokes and the like) and already enjoy Star Trek. Great show, got some rocky bits for sure, and maybe not the best start for someone new. Interestingly tho I do think out of the shows I've seen it does have the BEST first season of any Trek show. It really hits the ground running and the finale is like up there with Holes in terms of a perfectly tied together narrative. Def great to see!

As for the other shows....I sadly can't say because I haven't watched them yet. I know Deep Space Nine is regarded as one of the best Trek shows overall for too many reasons to list, The Original Series has been one of the longest lasting active fandoms in all of history and is beloved by most fans(I'm really excited to watch it) for both it's depth and it's campy nonsense as well as the insane gay energy going on between Kirk and Spock and you should watch it at some point, I hear Discovery had it's own rocky start but has had fans going to bat for it for years, and Enterprise has a rep for being mid but also to this day has fans who swear more people would love it if they were willing to give it a fair shot(plus Beyond pulls from it heavily which is awesome!), and while I've heard mixed things about Strange New Worlds it also seems to be a pretty well regarded entry point and a lot of people genuinely adore it, and it's nice to see some attention get paid to TOS inspired stuff rather than everything being oops all TNG for so long.

And Picard exists. For better or worse. Maybe worse I've heard. Im not interested in watching it because I genuinely do think Trek needs to get OUT of the shadow of TNG for it's own good at this point but that's just me. Def one that should be watched AFTER The Next Generation though as it's a direct sequel and you probably won't get anything that's going on without that context.

Anyway sorry for the essay it is now 3am and I am an idiot I just LOVE Star Trek more than I could possibly ever say and overall aside from Lower Decks and Picard(and Into Darkness I am sorry I truly hate that film to an perhaps unhealthy degree) you really cannot go wrong with your starter. Also I fully welcome anyone who has seen the other shows to chime in here! I wish I could speak to them but there really is so much Star Trek and only so many hours in a day. I hope this helped though, and I wish you luck!!

(Also sorry if I dissed on anyone's faves this is my opinion ofc everyone is going to like different things and I know plenty of people enjoy the stuff I can't stand. There's a show for everyone in here and we won't always agree, but overall I think it's best to just live and let live, especially given the rare but vocal assholes who swear anything made after DS9 is bad. They are idiots and I will attack them on sight.)

[swampsiren-piratefairy]

Okay. Okay, I have to ask. I saw some cool ass artwork but I have no context and now I have to ask.

What is Murderbot?

Ohhhh my goshhhhh!! Thank you for asking! 😍

The Murderbot Diaries is a series of 5 novellas and 2 novels by Martha Wells

6 /7 of the books are action/adventure sci-fi and one is a sort of detective in space thing.

Murderbot (my beloved) is a construct created of organic human clone tissue and non-organic mechanical parts. It is a deadly weapon and a tool for corporate surveillance, but it’s also a person. It’s got a “governor module” in its brain that will torture or kill it if MB does not follow commands from the company that owns it or from the people that lease MB for security.

But when Murderbot hacks its own governor module, finally freeing it, what will it do? Go on a killing spree?? Get revenge on its corporate overlords???

Answer: it will watch soap operas and keep its day job.

I love Murderbot, it’s the best and most relatable character ever (my roommate says, no. MB is not that relatable. It’s just the autism). I love the stories and the sense of humor. I found the books last year, went feral for them, and bought a complete set of signed copies.

Thank you, The Void for your ask!! I love to talk about Murderbot!!!

Pro-tip: if you do read the books, go for chronological book order rather than publishing order (I put my preferred reading order under the cut)

(Book 1) All Systems Red

Story story “ The Future of Work: Compulsory” (this is a prequel for ASR, but it works well here)

(Book 2) Artificial Condition

(Book 3) Rogue Protocol

Optional Short Story “Obsolescence” (MB is not in it, but it takes place in the same universe and chronologically happens well before the events of All Systems Red. It’s an entirely optional read, but it provides a little context for one paragraph in Exit Strategy)

(Book 4) Exit Strategy

Short Story “Home: Habitat, Range, Niche, Territory”

(Book 6) Fugitive Telemetry

(Book 5) Network Effect

(Book 7) System Collapse

[tavyliasin]

2024 Writing Retrospect

Tagged by @jellymellydraws so I'll give it a go!

What's been your biggest learning point this past year? There are very few things I can't/won't write if I put my mind to it, I just need to find the right angle - I've found a lot of joy in writing crackships, one shots, and rare pairings. I do adore my longer stories, but digging in to new dynamics never fails to be exciting and I'd like to lean on that some more~

How has your writing developed this past year? I think I'm a lot more confident in writing, particularly kink, and I'm easing my way out of some bad habits like sentences that are far too long or being too vague when my mind wants to skip through the most exciting parts~

Bad writing habits? Hmmm I'm going to have to throw in getting distracted, not finishing WIPs, and definitely the impatience to post. I know works are better with a beta read, but that means waiting and editing and re-reading instead of just slamming it down, throwing the links into every corner of the internet, and running away in fear and horror that nobody wants what I just put out. Ah, there's another bad habit - the lack of confidence in finished works. I don't like looking at my stats, but I cherish every single individual comment and kudos like my entire creative career depends on it.

Favorite thing you wrote? Gods that's a tough one. I adore all of my works, and I wrote so much this year. It might be between the Raphael/Haarlep prequel pieces, and possibly Emperor x Volo "A Legend, Alive" which was a real experiment when I started it and it just developed so much depth and feeling as I took it entirely seriously~

Biggest win? Getting over 500k words published on AO3, over 100 works, and also finishing the 24 chapter speedwritten epic that was the Volo Kinkmas Challenge. Most of which barely a dozen people have even opened judging by the hit counts, but I shouldn't expect people to actively want to read 24 chapters of Volo smut without me begging them and yelling "hear me out, it's actually really good" about a thousand times a minute. (Seriously though I am proud of finishing it and I think I did a damn good job too, allowing myself that pride)

Goals for the new year? Write. The. Original. Novel. I did barely anything on it last year... I would also like to finish all 3 of my longfics, they've been going on too long without concluding, then I'll feel more free in starting new things or indulging in silly premise one shots~

Your favorite words of the year, aka the words you check each chapter for, making sure you didn't repeat them 788 times? "As". You can pry "as" from my cold dead hands, I need it, it works, I will use it plenty~ Otherwise I really just keep checking word repetition constantly. If I'm going over a piece and worry I've said a word too many times I will do a quick ctrl+F to highlight uses and see if I'm good or not. I prefer several paragraphs before a word repeats and open my thesaurus tab often~

What are you excited for in the new year? Creative events, finishing the other Zine pieces I've signed up for, and the release of Fan Zines I've been a part of - really excited to share those pieces with you all when they are released~

Tagging in - with no pressure, only if you'd like to - @morb-untamed @laserlope @khapikat222 @ineadhyn @redroomroaving

[alespov]

- I’ve seen this film before

Trigger Warnings : mentions of the raccon city incident, reader gets a bit upset.

Author Note : hii loves, I just needed a small break. All of the asks that I received, has been answered and will be posted soon. Thank you for all of the love <3 { repost from my old blog} feedback is highly appreciated <33

Iced vanilla coffee with pumpkin cold foam," the barista announced. Eagerly, you slid your bookmark back into the pages of your book, your anticipation growing with each step toward the counter. Autumn's arrival meant it was finally time to indulge in your cherished seasonal beverage. As you reached out to claim your coffee, an unexpected hand swiftly grasped it before you could blink.

"Oh sorry, did I get the wrong order?" As you turned, you became captivated by a man whose striking blue eyes seemed to pierce deep into your soul. You found yourself irresistibly drawn to his gaze, utterly entranced by the intensity and allure of his eyes.

"Hey.... you okay?" he said while snapping his fingers. You snapped out of your trance and were a bit embarrassed.

"Uh, I'm terribly sorry. I thought this was my order, but I definitely could be mistaken," you explained clearly embarrassed, the flushed cheeks gave it away.

Just then, the barista called out another coffee order identical to yours. The man laughed, "Oh this one must be mine."

The two of you shared another look and went back to sit at your respective tables. You've had a busy day and it was only one in the afternoon. So sitting in the peaceful cafe was just what you needed.

As the hours slipped by, you became wholly absorbed in crafting the second draft of your second novel. The success of your debut work left an indelible mark on your heart, setting high expectations for this sequel. Vividly recounting your harrowing experiences in Raccoon City, the book pays special tribute to the valiant blonde rookie cop who risked everything to rescue you and your friends. Though time has drifted you all apart, the fast-approaching anniversary of those fateful events evokes bittersweet memories that continue to shape and inspire your writing.

You were absorbed in editing your draft you didn't see someone sitting across from you. Pulling out your earbuds and you brushed your hair back. You noted it was the man from earlier, "Oh sorry I didn't see you there."

As you smiled at him, charmed by his shyness, you started chatting about how your respective days went. Intrigued, he questioned you about the book you were writing, and as you explained your ideas, you couldn't help but mention its prequel, causing his eyes to widen in surprise.

“"So, you were part of the Raccoon City incident?" he inquired with a hint of curiosity, his fingers absentmindedly playing with his watch. Caught off guard by this unexpected question, especially since it was a topic rarely discussed, you opted for honesty. The incident was not your favorite conversation piece, so you preferred to write under a pseudonym. Amusingly enough, none of your readers had any clue about your true identity or appearance.

“Uhh yea I was, my friends and I was going to a party. We were all riding together, and the police had shut the roads down. Then… the monsters came.” You trialed off, quickly wiping the tears from your eyes. The man looked sympathetic and grabbed you hand. “Hey it’s okay… I promise it’s gets easier. You just have to have the right person.” He cradled your hand in his own, and gave you a gentle squeeze.

“If not for Officer Kennedy, I wouldn't be standing here today. The first book is an immense homage to him," you said with a smile, attempting to conceal the depth of your emotions. He was just a stranger who nearly picked up your coffee by mistake, and you didn't want to impose the weight of your past on him.

“If it’s any help, I was also there. It was the first day of the job for me.” He began and the pieces hadn’t clicked yet.

"I remember that day vividly. It was my first day on the job, and little did I know, it would also be a day I would never forget. I rushed into the gas station, running late after a terrible breakup with my girlfriend the night before. As I raced to my car, my heart pounding with adrenaline, I knew that this day would be different. And little did I know, it would be the start of a wild and crazy journey that would change my life forever." He moved his blonde hair out of his face.

“Oh I’m so sor-“ he cut you off, “I’m fine, I’ve learned to heal.”

You nodded and the barista reminded everyone it was closing time, on some days they closed at 2:30 in the afternoon. You gathered your things, and the man waited for you.

“Allow me to walk you out?” He held out his arm for you to take. You giggled a bit embarrassed and accepted his arm.

He walked you to your car and helped you set your stuff in the back. You had realized after talking to him for so long, that you didn’t even know his name. He was getting ready to leave but you stopped him.

“You know I never got your name.” You pointed out to him. He chucked and said. “How rude of me, you can call me Officer Kennedy.” The color must have drained from your face.

“It’s okay. It’s okay I’m sorry I should have said something earlier.” You felt like fainting, he grabbed a hold of your wait and gently helped you sit down.

“Oh.. my I didn’t even realize.” He shook his head. Brushing you off. “Honestly it’s okay… I’m glad your safe after all these years. To be honest I kinda tracked you down here.”

You looked at him confused. “ my friend Claire was reading the book, and she sent it to me. I just had to see you. I don’t really care for pumpkin ice coffee. I just overheard that you ordered it.” He laughed nervously.

You laughed at him and he smirked “so.. do you think I could get an autograph.”