#she just would be. and find it very overwhelming.

[soleilapproves]

Can I make a request for a pregnant y/n? Like jjk men and y/n get to the hospital when she goes into labor and they’re only expecting one baby but she ends up having twins? I’d love to know their reactions 😭🩷

Girl, realistically, I don’t think that’s possible with ultrasounds and stuff.

BUT, for the sake of the fic, let’s just say that you’re in a time period where ultrasounds don’t exist and physicians rely on taking your pulse or something to see if you’re pregnant or not.

cw: pregnancy, small descriptions of birth

Nanami is always a level headed and cool man. So when you popped out two kids instead of one, he had the most calm expression ever, only stroking your cheek and cooing in your ears about how well you did. Unbeknownst to you, he’s trying his best not to rip his own hair out. The house was only ready for one baby—one nursery, one nanny, one chest of clothes. Now he was going to have work just as hard to set up the same for another baby in a very short time. You don’t notice his hand trembling when the midwife tells him that there’s another kid in the equation, his main focus would probably be on making sure you’re feeling better considering that you’re in the most overwhelming phase of being a new mom. All in all, I think he’d be very scared, but he’d face this change head on and would try his best to be a good dad to both his kids (all while freaking out on the inside.)

Gojo would be elated! Double the trouble. While you’re in pain, moaning and crying while pushing out the afterbirth, Gojo is already giggling over his new children, both annoyingly being the spitting images of their father. The nurse would probably yell at him to settle down because he’s being a nuisance and send him out for being annoying, not gonna lie. But who can blame him? He’s just so excited to take both his babies home and shower them with all the love and attention in the world. There’s no doubt that you’re nervous and scared after birthing twins, you aren’t even sure how you’ll nurse them or give them attention at the same time, and seeing this, Gojo vows to make your life easier with the babies. The nannies would often complain that Gojo leaves them no work because he’s always enthusiastic to look after his little ones.

Out of all the JJK men, I think Toji would have the worst reaction. He would be freaking the fuck out and would not be shy about it. He’d be clutching on to your hand to prevent himself from fainting after the midwife yells that there’s another one coming. It’s not that he exhibits weaponized incompetency, he’s just genuinely scared of messing up twice the amount now. He’d definitely be insecure throughout the first month though, wondering if he’s even blessed enough to deserve two little angels and a lovely wife. But that doesn’t stop him from trying his best. He makes a LOT of mistakes, but he’s always ready to learn, albeit, he’s a sloppy student, but he tries and that’s what matters. The kids also say dad first so he feels like he did something right after all.

Geto is a certified twin dad. It was on his resume when he started dating you. He is not scared, and is in dad mode the second you both find that you’re carrying. So imagine his delight when there’s two babies instead of one in the cradle, both looking like they’re the most precious things on Earth. Very overprotective, especially two times as much since his babies are so beautiful, he would not let anyone in a three feet radius of his children during the first month and it took a lot of convincing to let him loose and decrease the requirement to two feet. They’re the apples of his eye and so are you. He’s surprisingly good at dividing his attention well so nobody feels excluded. He made you feel safe and secure since the beginning, constantly reassuring you that raising twins is light work. You wouldn’t know if you’d still have your sanity if he was not the father of your children.

Sukuna makes you want to smack his face while giving birth. While you’re there, having the most uncomfortable and painful time, Sukuna is laughing to himself while holding both his babies to his chest, all four arms supporting them. He begins to yell about how he has two heirs now and the midwife smacks the back of his head so he’ll quiet down. Too bad he can’t kill her because she helped deliver his tiny demons. He had already started imagining what he’d teach the kid when he found out that you were pregnant, but now that there’s two kids there’s going to be twice the fun. He imagines teaching both his kiddos how to fight, maybe if they have too much energy and are annoying him then he’ll make them spar with each other. He laughs to himself menacingly and you try not to worry about what the man is planning. He also does not clean dirty diapers and does not make you do any of that either. Will probably force you away from the kids if he has to because the poor servants can handle it. He just wants to you to remember the fun parts of parenthood.

[changingplumbob]

Introductions: Mariela - Part 3

Deanna: How are you feeling about this whole situation? Like what are you thinking about being in the villa with other contestants?

Mariela: It's a little bit overwhelming, but I know that once I get to know folks it won't be so bad

Deanna: I hope so. The first day for each group will just be pretty chill with some hang out time

Mariela: Ice breakers?

Deanna: Watcher I hope not

Deanna: Have you brought any keepsakes from home?

Mariela: I've got a picture of myself with my dad and my glimmerstone

Deanna: That's nice, I'm still not sure if I'll be able to get my family photos in

Mariela: It's not that far from your house to the villa though is it?

Deanna: Not very but I just hung them all up right at home so I'm hesitant to move them around

Joey: How do you think that went?

Mariela: Pretty good, pretty good

Joey: Grazie for chatting, see you at the sorting ceremony. Wait- can you tell me where I would find female ghosts?

...

Devin: Okay De, how was that?

Deanna: She is so funny! I like her and I think others will to

See you tomorrow where we will meet our next contestant Jerrica.

[ambiguouslady42]

Pairing: Latina! Fem Reader x Nanami Kento (they're in their 20's)

WC: 3.3K

CW: Fluff. It's a meet-cute after all.

Summary: You travel to Japan after finishing school. You're homesick and journey to find tacos, as they're your reminder of home. You get lost, and the dashing Nanami Kento is there to help you. Soon, your worlds collide and it becomes a memorable meet-cute.

Note: I made an honest effort with the accents and the Spanish language. If you see an error, no you didn't. <3

Dividers from @/saradika-graphics

You recently graduated from university. From the minute you walked that stage, you wanted to live on your terms; you chose to study the degree of choice, despite the protests from your family. “Que vas hacer con tu vida?” or “Hace lo que te de la gana” were the common phrases you heard within days of having your diploma in hand. It would sting your heart, but at the same time, you’re in your 20’s. The best days of your life are ahead of you.

While you were in school, you took a number of odd jobs to have money for food, coffee, or textbooks. Whatever money you had leftover, you would put it in the “Japan Savings” jar. Unfortunately for you, you took a little longer to finish your degree than most of your peers, but the silver lining is that you had two extra years to save for your trip. Your mom told you that you’re out of your mind when you told her that you’re going to Japan. “Y con permiso de quien?” You gave her a look that you swore screamed “redrum”, but she knew that she couldn’t hold you back from doing what you wanted. “Bueno, ve a ver a tu Naruto o lo que quieras. Yo no te voy a impedir.”

Just like that, you were on a plane to Japan. You couldn’t sleep during the long flight. Your best friend who had gone the year prior told you where to start your trip. They warned you in advance that Tokyo might be overwhelming for your anxious heart, so they told you to land in Tokyo, but make your way towards Osaka or Kyoto. You had no idea what to expect from this trip. There was an excitement for new experiences, an understanding of a different culture outside of yours, and most of all, just have that adventure you worked so hard for. 

You spent time in Osaka for a few days, absorbing the sights like a sponge. You read that Osaka was more down to Earth and it was also known for its food. You tried okonomiyaki and takoyaki at Shinsekei. The sights felt nostalgic to you from reading the history of the place, but above all, you’re pleased with the texture and flavours. You embrace how food connects you to the culture and it made you want to attempt to talk to people. You carried cards in your bag that had phrases that would be helpful like “where is the nearest washroom?”, “which direction towards the train station?”, and “i’m allergic to shellfish.” You spoke to locals with the very little Japanese you knew, but there was still a certain disconnect that you felt. You wonder if what you’re feeling is loneliness, as you have no one to share this adventure with. However, you march on as you still have a whole journey ahead of you. 

After 4 days in Osaka, you move towards Kyoto to visit the temples. You’re not typically a praying person, but you felt it appropriate to pray towards something. There was a calm in the air whenever you took a step. Yet, that lingering emotion you felt in Osaka followed you here. You didn’t know if you should pray to meet someone or really pray to find a job immediately when you get back home. It wouldn’t hurt to meet someone, but at the same time you didn’t travel thousands of miles to find love. You just didn’t anticipate to feel lonely throughout this trip. 

At the rate you progressed, a week had gone by. You ate various noodle dishes, sushi, and the onigiri from the convenience store; you felt homesick. You long to taste something familiar to home, but you have no idea if you’ll find it here. Your travels through two cities felt easy compared to your time in Tokyo. However, the idea that you must have something familiar to home grew like a weed in a garden.  

Using your phone, you made the choice to search for tacos. You felt silly, but you knew this is what would comfort you and make you feel better. Searching and scouring the internet for 2 hours, you decided on place. After resting comfortably in your lodge, you went out that evening looking for home. The only problem, you’re not good with directions sometimes.

You made your way to Shinjuku, but you were walking in circles. What you didn’t notice as you walked around was that you had caught the attention of a blonde. You weren’t aware of him because your stomach grumbled as you kept running in circles to find this location. After maybe the third time walking to the samep place, the blonde couldn’t ignore you any longer. You clumsily bumped into someone as you weren’t looking up. When you felt the thud against your chest, you apologize and bow your head, when you look up. 

He knows right away that you’re a foreigner, so he asks you, “are you alright?” 

“Y..yeah…i’m sorry about that. I should’ve been paying attention.” you shyly say. You start your circular journey again when he interjects, “Do you need help getting somewhere?” 

Your face beams up as you look at him, “Yes, I do! Wait, I apologize for being so excited. You’re just…nevermind! I’m actually looking for…a taco spot.” 

His brows furrow, looking at you as if you’re telling him a lie. “That’s not possible to find that here.” 

You proceed to frown at him and show him your phone. “This is what i’m trying to find. Can you please help me find it, or I’ll be moving on.”

He notices a switch in your temperament and is quick to apologize. “I’m sorry about that, it wasn’t meant to sound accusatory. I just never really had…tacos.” 

“Well, if you help me find the place, it’ll be my treat.” You look at him with earnest eyes. “I’m sorry about my tone, sometimes… I can have a short fuse.” 

There is something refreshing in the way you act. It’s not everyday that he runs into someone who is immediately very bubbly, but also with a temper of a firecracker. There’s a small curve that develops on his lips. You notice it right away. 

“Is…that okay? If not, you can just point me in the right direction and…”

“It’s fine, i’ll just take you there. Besides, I guess I could eat”, he cuts you off.

You giggle and wait for him to assess in which direction you’re going to walk in. He hears you, and it tugs at his heartstrings. “Is she usually this bubby?”, he thought.

He motions to walk in a specific direction, and you follow. You observe that he’s very tall in contrast with your height. You try to keep up with his pace, but you fall behind. “Excuse me, but could you slow down, please?” He quickly notices that you’re trailing behind him. “Oh, my apologies.” 

“I know you’re probably eager to get away from me, but could you at least wait till we get our food?” 

“That’s preposterous. I wouldn’t be walking you to your location if I didn’t want to”, he retorts.

“Oh, sorry”, you suddenly tense up and remain quiet. 

“No, I just felt I had to defend myself…”, he stumbles on his words.

“Could…we start over? We never even introduced ourselves and it’s just two strangers struggling here.” You stop walking and look at him. You tell him your name and extend your hand.

He bows out of politeness and extends his hand to you. “Nanami Kento, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

His handshake is firm and you try to match yours. Due to the lack of human contact on your trip, there is a blush that develops. He is quick to notice it, but tries to not give attention to it to further avoid any mishaps between the two of you. 

“So why do you want eat tacos?” he asks.

“Long, story short, I’m really homesick. I felt if I ate the food i’m familiar with, it would make me feel less of that. I know i’m going home soon…but.” 

“Oh? How long have you been here?”

“Well last week I was in Osaka, then moved towards Kyoto. I’m finishing the trip in Tokyo to make it easier on myself to go home.” 

He takes a moment to process what you just told him. People come and go all the time to Japan, but it’s not often that he gets to interact with a tourist. At this moment, he is enjoying your company. He just had a long day at work. He can tell by the way you open up to him that you’re not afraid to tell him about yourself. He’s hopeful that he can continue to keep talking to you. 

“I see. What do you plan on doing during the last leg of your trip?” he questions.

“Well, I know there’s Tokyo Tower, which reminds me of this anime I grew up watching, and…maybe walk around Shibuya. I didn’t really plan this last part out well, if I’m honest.”

“Oh, which anime?” 

“Promise not to laugh at me?” you ask with a giggle.

He chuckles. “I promise.” 

You mumble, “Sailor Moon.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he asks.

“Sailor Moon. There, I said it.” Your face feels hot suddenly, as he looks at you. You can feel his gaze on you as you try to look away. 

“Ah, I see. I didn’t watch that growing up.” he says flatly.

“It’s not for everyone” you shrug. 

There is a silence that now looms between the two of you. Suddenly, you smell something familiar. You smell grilled meats and onions. There is no doubt in your mind that you’re close. 

“We are close!” you state.

“How could you know?” he asks you.

“I recognize this smell. It reminds me of a place near my block at home. It really does feel like home a little,” you express with joy. You’re smiling now and he can’t really ignore it. He wonders what he could say or ask that will make you smile like that again.

You reach the location. When you enter, your eyes light up. You notice that the menu is in a language that you recognize: Spanish. Interestingly, the menu has it in both Spanish and Japanese. You feel your heart light up as you feel a small pocket of home here in Japan. Nanami does take notice of how your face changed. You quickly go up to the counter and he soon follows.

“You can get whatever you want, like I said, it’s my treat.” You beam up at him.

He just looks at you, unsure of what to get. You boldly take his hand and guide him what to get. Your heart starts to race, but you try remain confident. “Well, you could get the asada, it’s a good safe choice, but suadero is really good! OOH! You could get carnitas.” He sees stars in your eyes, but it doesn’t answer his question on what he should get. You attempt to let go of his hand, but his grip tightens as you attempt to let go.

“Oh…I wasn’t sure you’d like that.” 

“It…doesn’t bother me.” he expresses.

The person at the counter starts to speak in Japanese, assuming that Nanami was going to place the order, but then you interject in Spanish. 

“Buenas noches, podría ordenar…” 

Suddenly, the man at the grill looks over and starts talking “Hablas Español?”

“ !Si! Bueno, no a lo máximo, pero lo que yo pueda!” 

“¿De dónde eres?”

You tell him shortly where you’re from, and he' s all smiles at this point. “¡Qué bueno! ¿Qué te gusta hoy?” 

“Me comería todo aquí. Voy a ordenar cinco tacos. 1 de asada, 1 de suadero, y 3 de carnitas.” You turn around and Nanami just looks lost. He continues to notice how you beam and smile. The man switches to Japanese, and you see a look of relief on Nanami’s face. They seem to be having a conversation, and you have no idea what they’re really saying. The mood changes when Nanami begins to laugh. It’s a deep laugh, and then you notice they’re looking at you. You turn to look at Nanami with a slight frown, and he just smiles at you. “I’m not laughing at you, but we are talking about how I ended up here and met you.” 

“Oh.” There’s that warmth on your face again. It’s kind of difficult to hide now in the well-lit room. Nanami completes his order, and just as you’re taking out your wallet, his arm extends out in front of you.

“Hey! I said I was going to get it!”

“Nonsense, it’s not very polite for a lady to pay.” 

You shrug and start to walk towards the grill. There’s a comfort in watching someone prepare your food, as it’s familiar to something you know. 

“¿Dónde aprendiste a hablar Español?

“En un pueblo en México. De ahí es donde aprendí cómo preparar tacos y decidí abrir mi propia taqueria.” 

“¡Qué bueno! Me da felicidad verte. Nunca creí que iba a encontrar un lugar así.” 

He goes on to explain that there are a lot of tourists that come from various places, but a lot of them have that same sentiment that you do when they want to have something familiar or that reminds them of home. You feel comfort in knowing that you’re not alone. He hands your food over and you start to walk towards a table. Nanami follows after you. You decide to sit outside on a bench. 

At this point, Nanami watches how you prepare your tacos. You like to pinch the lime all over them and proceed to add your salsa generously. 

“You can just sprinkle the lime and then you can just add the salsa to your heart’s content.” 

You take a big bite before you realize that there’s a man sitting in front of you. 

“Oh shit! I mean, crap. Sorry, I didn’t mean to let you see that side of me.” You quickly grab a napkin to wipe your face. 

He chuckles again, “It’s okay, you really must be hungry.” 

“Is it that obvious?”

“Well, yes. It makes sense. Without me, you’d be lost.” 

“Hey! And without me, you wouldn’t have known about this place. Remember, you didn’t even think it could exist.” 

“That 's true.”

You proceed to eat in silence, but this time, you try to be mindful of the fact that you cannot inhale your food. You feel self-conscious that a man is looking at you. Your bites get smaller to show him that you can be a lady. 

He observe a change in your behaviour, so he decides to be bold and eat his taco in one bite. You suddenly start to laugh.

“Why did you do that?” you question him.

“I’ll be honest, I'm just as hungry too. Besides, eating with your hands is never meant to be neat.” He eats another in a single bite.

“I never expected you to be able to eat in one bite.” 

“I just don’t do it often,” he states.

There is an air of silence as you eat. You fret that your night with him is coming to an end. You assume that you’ll likely part ways after your meal. 

“What are you going to do after this?” he asks. 

You look at the time. It’s 9 pm. “I’m not sure, probably head back to the hotel I'm staying at.” 

“If you don’t mind, I'd like to walk you there.” 

He also feels a sense of wanting to keep trying to talk to you. He is often very methodical in what he has to say, but you bring out something in him that makes it difficult to think about everything he has to say.  Although, right now, he is enjoying being playful with you. 

“Do you feel less homesick right now?” he quizzes.

“I do, actually. Although, most importantly, I feel less lonely. This is the most I've spoken to anyone on this trip.”

“Really?” he ponders.

“I could’ve easily called my parents, but my mom can be overbearing, so the most I do is send her a quick message where I’m at, and then she leaves me alone. I’d really rather have the space to think about my next steps.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I just finished school and then I used my earnings to come all the way over here.” 

“Ah, I see. So this is a reward for you?” 

“It is. I felt it was in my best interest now to come explore here, and then when I get back I could focus on finding a job.” 

“Do you know what line of work you want to get into?”

“Not really. I’ve never seen myself as a corporate person, if I had to be honest.” 

There’s a slight change in his expressions. “He’s wearing a suit, so he might be a businessman”, you think to yourself. “I’m sorry, I wasn't trying to insult your profession. I just feel very…lost right now.”

“No, no. I understand. I didn’t have much of a choice in my career track. I just went and studied business and economics, then just got a job at some corporation. To be honest, sometimes it feels grueling.” 

“I’m sorry, that sounds challenging.” You’re sympathetic , but you cannot connect with him further as you feel you’re yet to have a real job like he does.

“This is actually the first time I’m able to talk about it. I was pushed to get on this track to study this degree and get this job. I was told that I'd be happy. Sometimes I feel miserable.” 

“Well, if you could choose to do anything you want, what would it be?”

“If I really had an option, it would be to operate my own bakery.”

“I think that sounds wonderful. I know a thing or two about baking, but I'm not the greatest sometimes.” 

“You bake too?” 

“Yeah, from time to time, when I'm allowed in the kitchen.” 

Your conversation continued to the point when the shop began to close. “We should leave”, you motion towards the street.

You clear the trash and start walking towards the street. “Hey, wait for me.” he scolds you.

He walks alongside you as you stroll back to your hotel. You’re walking slower than usual as you don’t want this night to end. He matches your pace, but he knows that he can change the trajectory of your trip without hesitation.

The sights start to look familiar and you fret about your meeting with this man.

“Well, Nanami, this was really nice. Thank you for dinner earlier.”

“It’s Kento, you can just call me that instead.”

You two look at each other and stare in silence. 

“Well, good-bye then.” you start to walk inside. “Wait, actually, there’s something I wanted to ask you,” he boldly blurts out.

“Yeah?” you stare at him.

“About Tokyo Tower, if you’d like, I could take you and maybe, do a repeat of tonight.” 

He sees stars in your eyes as you smile earth to earth. “I’d love that.” You turn around and walk towards him. You tippy toe yourself to find his cheek, but you stumble, and your lips stumble to find the corner of his lips. You are mortified.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t trying to do that, I was actually going for your cheek.” Your face is in pain.

He says nothing and leans down to press the softest kiss on your lips. He often isn’t this bold, but this is something new; he doesn’t know where it will end, but he knows that right now, you do make him feel excited. 

“I’ll meet you here at 6 pm.” he says cooly. “Don’t be late.” 

“I won’t.” 

Suddenly, you don’t want this trip to end.

[eldritch-spouse]

I'm very curious about Nebul's training sessions, maybe at the start when he just gets his pearl or something more advanced, but I would love to read that scenario and his techniques, maybd something like a diary entry from the start to a more obedient pet/pearl 👀✨️🙏

-🍵🪶

Not sure if I asked this before, if so please ignore♡

[You find a leather-cover notebook and flip to two random pages.]

I have reason to believe great progress has been made.

It is never ideal to starve a human, for a plethora of reasons I don't have time to detail right now, but deprivation is often more effective than pain to instill dependence. Had she resisted for another day, I would have to resort to much more traumatic means. Again.

The process has not been easy, her nature is deceitful, where one might think she would fawn, she fights. I'll fix this, carefully. Her potential is magnificent, I could never afford to fail.

Today, her instincts surpassed her will.

I felt the swell of misery within her mind when hunger drove her to beautiful obedience. She crawled, cold and desperate, despairing, towards my outstretched hand. That morning, she ate from my palms, naked and afraid. It reminded me of the strays I used to cater to long, long ago.

She did not lean into my praise, but she accepted it silently.

There has been a setback, much to my displeasure. Though my mood is not entirely ruined.

Although she has excelled in many of my tests, some manner of impulse drove her to snatch the keys to the elevator. I'm not exactly sure of the moment in which she did this, but their absence didn't escape me. Considering she has not yet earned the privilege of convenient coverings and her reach of this floor is limited after a certain amount of time, I will have to prod her mind for whatever excuse of an escape plan she had concocted.

She must rest right now however.

For I gave her exactly what she craved. To be rid of me. Dimwitted animals must learn things the hard way, which is why she was free to explore the bowels of The Clergy's Eye on her own tonight. With the cooperation of my coworkers, Pearl spent hours on plenty of the floors, dragged into whatever shenanigans they please. When I checked on her in Morell's care, I could almost taste the terror in her sickly complexion as she was guided to remove the eyes and tongue of a kitchen pig.

I can only imagine what Vinnel had her participate in, or whatever clinical abomination of a task Patches tossed her into.

She came back to me in the ideal state. Mildly dissociated, weakened, recognizing me as her sole source of comfort and familiarity.

Of course, there was still my part to be done, though the psychological part of this lesson had been achieved, I wanted her to retain physical reminders of her failure, so an impact session was initiated. Just the right conditions gathered for a wonderful result, and at some point, through her tears and sobbed whimpers, she had grown wet.

Usually, this breakthrough isn't achieved directly after such intense episodes of punishment, but I am nonetheless very delighted. Although many opt to ignore it, pleasure is also a magnificent teacher.

It wasn't hard to bring such an overwhelmed body to orgasm, I held her through quivering legs and spasming pulses, the sound of her garbled apologies is still causing me to stiffen sporadically and it has been hours since she lay resting.

[cinnamoncilla]

My s/o in my fame dr

Chris Evans- SIGH HES SO FINEEEE

status:future/endgame

Before:Chris will listen to my new album(emails i can’t send💌) and he was amazed by it and started stalking my instagram(all during july) liking a few ect. He likes my third post and decides that he wants to DM me and he does!!! i Obviously reply and we go from there texting online til meeting in September for the first time

Drama: Four months into talking (November), Chris knew I was the one from the beginning—ever since we met. One night, his anxiety kicks in, and he starts thinking, What if she hurts me? and What if it’s not meant to be? What if I never get over this? Overwhelmed by these thoughts, he decides to call an old hookup, leading to a one-night stand(he lost a baddie for an old hookup😞).Somehow, word gets around, and about a week later, I find out—Tana Mongeau(that’s so random LMAO) is the one who tells me. Furious, I immediately start texting Chris, going off on him. He’s extremely apologetic but doesn’t reveal the real reason behind what he did—he just keeps apologizing. I refuse to forgive him.During this time, we aren’t communicating. He feels as if he’s lost his other half, like there’s a hole inside him(😼-how feel writing that). Desperate for advice, he turns to his family—his mom, brother, sisters, etc. They give him a hard time but still support him, telling him to give it a little time, that I’ll cool down, and that when I do, he should go to me.Two weeks pass(that’s ALL i can do😖), and he finally reaches out. He sends me a long message, asking to see me so he can explain everything. I respond, agreeing to meet him at his house in LA.When I arrive, we sit on the couch, and he pours out all his emotions. He tells me how he felt during our time apart, why he did what he did, and how much he regrets it. He apologizes sincerely, with tears in his eyes, and asks me to give him another chance. I start crying too. He finally confesses that he loves me.I open up about how I’ve been feeling, and through my own tears, I tell him I love him too. At that moment, we decide to fully commit to each other—officially, officially together, devoted, and now truly dating.

i just needed a bit of drama there btw all this is happening in 2021 btw during this time we aren't like together together but we kinda are and kinda not so it wont be cheating what he does but it would still be hurtful due to the connection we have.

love trope : soulmates,twin-flame,fated love , and love at first sight

Controversy: his fans will suspect he’s dating me and will hate me cuz of it (stole they man 🤭) talking abt our age gap and me ect how crazed fans do ofc

Extra: - it will be like a supernova for us and everybody around can feel it too. The moment we lay eyes on each other, time stops for us. It literally feels like a slow motion supernova. our eyes glow up, our hearts skip a beat and then begin to beat faster with each second. our body’s will feel weightless and electrified at the same time. Electric and sizzling atmosphere between us, Chris will look at me like he just discovered a black hole in front of him. It’s that feeling we had as a little child in kindergarten, when we had our first 'crush', this feeling of pure excitement and joy. Pure and electric.our souls recognize each other, but we are not aware of it. Not in that very moment. We feel it, but we don’t know what it is. we will just stare into one another, until one of us says something. It’s just seconds, but for us it will feel like minutes. Time stood still as we saw each other. Chris is the first to say something.He will feel something he never felt before and he doesn’t know what it is, that’s why he is a little bit irritated. this feeling when we forget a word or name, we know that we know it, but in this very moment we just can’t remember. That’s how he feels, i seems familiar to him, but he never saw me before.He finds me very attractive and stunningly beautiful. It’s the energy/aura that i radiate that he’s drawn to. This feeling of familiarity haunts him. “How can she feel so familiar without knowing her?”The way i looks, my voice, everything is like a forgotten memory for him. It seems like he doesn’t really flirt at our first meeting, as he is irritated by me (in a positive way), i makes him nervous and he doesn’t want to screw it up. him giggling and blushing like a child when im is around. i will somehow remind him of his childhood or makes him feel like a child again? Either way, we both will feel very familiar with each other other.

long ass post for what?? But nothing less for my man

(who i dedicated my “love look so pretty on you” album to which you could find through my account with a playlist included 🤭)

[memoirofasparklemuff1n]

no body, no crime- r.c. x reader chapter 3- imposter syndrome

summary: three years after your disappearance you return to the outer banks, only with no recollection of your time away. now that you're back, weird things start happening and everyone seems to be hiding secrets. the nightmare is far from over.

warnings: 18+ MDNI not because of this chapter but for the story in general <3

a/n: i had this in my drafts for so long, specifically the text messages that took me forever. my dad has pneumonia so i've been pretty busy along with school this past few weeks. also, my first language isn't english, so sorry for any mistakes. anyway, tyyy to @sematarygirls for inspiring me with gone girl <3

masterlist

i met someone very special today. who? and the whole not belonging bit hit too close to home. i guess feelings never really leave even when memories disappear.

i took a deep breath and decided i had to find a person that fit in this, somehow. kildare is full of secrets and i could feel it, as if on cue my phone buzzed. oh right, somewhere during my hospital stay and coming home my mom had given me one. she said that now that i was back, the police would come and give me back my old belongings. i dreaded it because i knew the amount of questions i would get. i honestly could not for the life of me tell the truth, not yet. especially since my memories weren’t particularly stellar at the moment after the accident. i should probably make a list or something of things i have to do and piece together in order to have my story straight. a to-do list of things to investigate before it was too late.

i shook my head and sighed. i held the journal in my hands and stared at the wall. im in danger, that much i know. the doctor had said i was found by a passerby unconscious in a car accident. i was then taken to the hospital and the police began to investigate my possible identity. they apparently ran the license plates and contacted the owner who had reported the car missing three months before. my mother then told me that by the state i was, it was obvious i could not be questioned. thus, the police then notified all of the other departments to see if they were looking for someone with my description because it was standard procedure to check for missing people, you guessed it, they hit the jackpot. y/n gilbert. and the rest i honestly, didn’t want to hear because i knew the police would explain everything when they would question me so for now i just have to find out how to protect myself and my family. i needed to be star. but i barely know her, so i have to get to know her me so i can be safe.

my phone buzzed again, pulling me out of my thoughts. i unlocked it, seeing sarah had texted me.

i smiled to myself when i saw the group chat:

i threw my phone as far away from me as possible. they saved a seat for star me. as if she i were dead and in a way she i was. that girl was never coming back. i heard it buzzing for a bit and i read silently as they wrote. i laughed when i saw what they were going on about:

after it went silent i decided to just turn it off for the night. i was exhausted honestly, the day had been overwhelming and the journal didn’t help at all.

i stood up from the floor and pushed the mattress onto the bed frame. god, it was heavy. i put the bedding as close to how it had been and plopped down on the bed, this time no hard lump sticking into my spine. i looked at the journal on the nightstand, wondering why it was stitched that way so no one could find it. sure, journals are private and we don’t want people to find them but to this extreme? it didn’t make any sense, unless there wasn’t reason to keep writing.

i then took it and hid it under my pillow just in case. it was my only hope of ever getting to stay here as the old y/n.

the breakfast at the country club was amazing, the people not so much. my mom had woken eleanor and i for a much needed “girl time.” and i know she meant well but all i wanted to do was to lie in bed and think. i needed to remember what happened in the accident and the years before that. even the night i went missing was blurry so right now i am in the dark . my mind was spiraling mainly because the police were going to interview me tomorrow and i had to get my story straight. i didn’t want them to discredit me, or worse, close the case. ugh, stupid concussion. what do you mean it could be months before i got my fragmented memories back? if they ever did. i had to start investigating and for that i had to be home reading every single page of that journal. i also had to search my entire bedroom for clues. who knows how many things the police missed. i’m sure they believed i was a runaway but still conducted an investigation for the sake of my family.

“elaine?” a male voice interrupted my thoughts and when i glanced up i was met with a pair of icy blue eyes, a beard and a too bright smile to be genuine. i knew he was faking the surprise, the entire club was staring at us the moment we got out of the car.

“oh hello, ward. how are you? your daughters were at my house yesterday.” my mom smiled but hers seemed genuine.

“yes, they told me. sarah was particularly excited because of y/n,” he looked at me with the same faux warmth of his. hypocrite.

i smiled reluctantly at him, earning a nod in acknowledgment.

“yes, they were very emotional. it was a bittersweet moment, but i think more sweet than bitter.” my mom looked at me and grabbed my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

ward proceeded with his script, which i’m sure he’d prepared beforehand to make himself look good.

“i wanted to tell you y/n, that whoever was responsible for your disappearance will face the consequences. i personally will make sure of it. you’ve always been a dear friend of sarah’s and eleanor of wheezie’s. you’re family and that is the least i can do.”

eleanor smiled but kept eating quietly, obviously uninterested in the conversation. i was beginning to notice that the constant vigilance from the other club members was pissing her off. that makes two of us.

my mother though, looked at ward as if he’d just told her he discovered the cure for cancer. she was so blind sometimes. “thank you so much, ward. i truly appreciate it and my family as well.”

“of course, elaine. well, i’ll leave you girls alone now. y/n, it’s good to have you back.” he gave me a knowing look and left the same way he’d come from. asshole.

the thing about ward cameron was that he was power hungry and his way of gaining said power was by being “helpful” when in reality those favors always had a price.

“that man is one of the best things to ever happen to outer banks. so kind and willing to help. pity that his son isn’t the same way.”

“what do you mean?” i knew rafe from a distance, mainly through sarah, sometimes seeing his extreme partying lifestyle with her ex boyfriend, topper. somehow where sarah was sweet but sometimes bitchy, rafe was a complete asshole. so i don’t know why my mother’s remark surprised me. well, maybe because he would do anything to get his father’s approval however he could.

“well, don’t repeat this to anyone ok?” she waited until i nodded and then waited for eleanor to do the same. when she did, my mom started gossiping eagerly.

“rafe was arrested for selling drugs and possession of a firearm about a year ago. but nobody found out because ward allegedly asked for it to not go public. if it had been anybody else i’m sure they wouldn’t have done it, but since ward has always been such an active member of the community they took pity on him.” oh mother, how innocent. eleanor and i shared a look that told me she was thinking the same thing.

“mom shh!” eleanor’s eyes widened. “he’s going to pass by us i think.” i looked down and my mom immediately pretended to be talking of her newest vase collection while el and i were suddenly very interested in our food.

i was staring down at my plate when a familiar voice interrupted our conversation.

“hello, mrs. gilbert. i’m very sorry to interrupt, it’s just that my father wanted me to give you this in regards to the project being done with cameron development. he was going to pass later by your home but since he found you here, he asked me to deliver them.” rafe was different somehow. he looked older and stronger. i mean three years had passed since i last saw him but the difference was abysmal. he was healthy, physically at least. his hair that had been styled to the side with gel, was now buzzed short. and despite all of those apparent changes, his attitude was just the same. he ignored my sister and i as if we were children imposing on an adult conversation. the cameron men were horrid, which always made me wonder where wheezie and sarah got all their goodness. el and i shared a glance that told me our thoughts were one and the same.

“thank you, rafe. i’ll notify ward as soon as my husband and i review them.” my mother smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. rafe smiled back and excused himself without sparing us a glance.

i raised my eyebrows slightly while lifting my orange juice to my lips and eleanor said what we’d all been thinking, “jerk.” i spit out the juice laughing, splashing my mom, making eleanor burst out cackling at our mothers expression only for her to join in. we were giggled for a while and i suspected it was a release of years of tension and not at el’s comment.

the shared moment made the rest of the gathering comfortable and the tension was long gone. when we finally returned home, i went straight to my bedroom and lied on bed.

maybe being here wasn’t so bad. i lifted my head and checked my phone for any new messages but none from anybody i was expecting.

my heart dropped as i looked at my screen in utter fear and disbelief.

FINALLY I COULD DO THIS

if you made it this far, thank you!!!! i love seeing people read my silly thoughts. and let me know theories and thoughts. i even accept constructive criticism, i really don't mind.

i know rafe's appearance was short but BEAR WITH ME. the poor reader is traumatized lmaoo plus i want him to be a jerk at first (she won't know what hit her)

anyway, the flashback is almost done. i know i had said chapter 3 was going to be a flashback but i got stumped, i'm sorry.

butttt i now know what i will do <3

i love you all xx

dividers by: @yeossemble

[pagetreader]

Watching him continue to disrobe in uttered fascination, it occurred to Edwina that not only was this the most vulnerable Ben had ever been around her, but also the most honest. He'd granted her permission to see perhaps the truest version of himself.

Of course, she wasn't so naive to believe that he no longer harbored feelings for his lost love, and yet, somehow, she dared to hope that, perhaps someday, she dared to hope, perhaps someday, he could possibly feel something akin to love for her. However, it could not be brought about by her own efforts. No. It could only be accomplished through Ben's consent to surrender and his willingness to open his heart to her entirely.

In this moment, as he gazed upon her in shyness and fervent admiration, she hoped he would find her endeavor to quickly learn his sensual needs, at the very least, appealing. It was difficult to keep herself from pondering whether or not his beloved "Kitty" was more experienced, more alluring. Try as she might, Edwina couldn't help but feel inadequate in comparison.

Even so, the fervent way he leaned into her kiss was reassuring, prompting her to work up enough courage to brush her hand along his jaw before settling her fingers in his hair, a stunning autumn shade that reminded her of the splendid amber sap that accumulated in trees. His racing heart beat in tandem with her own.

Benjamin's bare skin was warm and soft despite his athletic build. The ardent way he held her close was near overwhelming as he reached between them to fiddle with his breeches. The action robbed her of breath as it became clearer just what was about to happen.

Then he looked at her with such passionate longing that she was certain she might swoon. Mouth agape in desperation for more of his taste, Edwina drifted forward as she studied his body from the waist up. He was indescribably perfect, like the marble sculptures she'd seen in the galleries. Pure unmatched exceptionality. A work of art.

"You can touch me, if you'd like," he whispered, rendering her speechless as she attempted to register what he'd just said. Edwina stared back at him in awe before her eyes drifted downward, falling upon the growing erection in his breeches, and leaving her shocked at how rather large he appeared to be. Were all men so well endowed, or was this merely another trait in which he surpassed all others?

Hesitantly, carefully, she reached out, her fingers slowly dancing along his collarbone, settling her hand against his chest and trailing down his topography to become familiar with every inch of his front. Every bump of his abdomen left her fascinated, captivated.

Stopping just short of the hem of his breeches, she glanced up in sheepishness, offering a soft smile before returning her attention to what was between them. Mustering her nerve, Edwina began to aid him in unfastening the fabric, her movements becoming more enthusiastic as she worked.

"May I touch you, as well?" he asked softly, once again leaving her stunned. Her chest swelled with desire and she reminded herself to breathe as he took hold of the ribbons upon her shoulders. One good tug, and she'd be laid bare before him.

"Yes..." she answered quietly with a nod, her own hands still fastened to his breeches in hopes he'd quickly oblige her, "Yes, please..."

With her permission granted, Benjamin shakily lowered his hands and loosened his sword belt from his hips. What had always given him a sting of pride, of purpose, now served as an annoyance as he disarmed himself, and propped the saber against his desk.

Unable to handle Edwina's eyes on him, he grew a touch shy as he thumbed open the pewter buttons on his waistcoat. With Katherine all those summers ago, she'd nearly torn his clothes from his frame, and he, in turn, had groped and pawed at her with a schoolboyish clumsiness that she'd teased and found endearing.

But this wasn't Kitty. No, this was Edwina, and finally meeting with her round, hopeful eyes, Benjamin felt a sting of guilt for never being here for her...for never being a proper husband. Could he ever hope to be what she needed, even now?

After tossing his waistcoat to the floor, Benjamin tugged his billowy shirt free of his breeches and yanked it over his head, the dry cold causing a wave of static to crackle through his hair as he flashed Edwina a sheepish smile.

To his surprise, she came toward him then, and of her own volition, her nose nudging into his before her mouth brushed over his full, parted lips.

"I-is this alright?"

"Yes," Benjamin whispered, melting into her touch. "Yes..."

Devouring her breath in another kiss, he wrapped Edwina up in his arms and held her close against his rapidly beating heart, his tongue tangling with hers as he fumblingly reached between them to unfasten his breeches.

Breaking the kiss with a sharp breath, his eyes met hers with a yearning, stormy quality, much like an electrical pulse in midwinter. "You can touch me, if you'd like," he whispered. Just speaking the words caused a strong, throbbing ache to stir beneath his breeches, and mouth dry, Benjamin softly asked, "May I touch you, as well?"

Hesitant, he slid his hands along her shoulders and moved his grip toward the loosened ribbons at her neckline, his hands starting to shake as he met her gaze in search of permission.

[quietwingsinthesky]

thinking about jack "i just met her but im 99% sure she's in love with me and we're going to have sex" and marie "if u even look at jack i hate u i hate u i hate u i hate u i ha-"

[jalboyhenthusiast]

-

[anthromimicry]

jandy nelson, i'll give you the sun | jean anouilh tr, by lewis galantière | @soulinkpoetry | trista mateer, the dogs i have kissed | the bible

[carnivalls]

good morning. thinking again of juve and her dog

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

Still haven't messaged my mom back. And I don't think I'm going to.

[aeolianblues]

ever so slightly worried I’ll be insufferable next week, I’m going to Cardiff and I’ll try not to be the Leo pointing meme everywhere

I was already so bad in London, I’d point out show promo ads on the tube to my cousin and start telling her all about bands I think she could live without hearing about, and we’d look at a poster advertising a show at another venue and I’d tell her about some historic show that happened there in like 1977 and then we’d see some big tour announcement on the side of a wall and I’d be all like do you want an unsolicited ten-minute long history of this artist’s successes in the charts

I’m terrible about it, I have to try not to wear down my best friend next week, who is doing Cardiff with me very graciously, knowing what fresh hell that might entail for her

[stresskidz]

Can't stop thinking about royal guard Hyunjin x princess reader AU. They cannot communicate much due to a language barrier, but he protects her with his life.

[arolesbianism]

You hate how much it tempts you

[fleurdov]

this update actually broke me how am i supposed to function and act normal when i’m actually only thinking about the horrors of The Answer.

i really really loved this chapter though thank you so much for updating!!!! and now i will scream into the white void!!

THE ANSWER: XXVI

Kim Hongjoong doesn’t like the word ‘cult.’ He prefers ‘sect.’ pairing: ateez x fem reader genre: cult au, thriller, angst check warnings on AO3

← previous || next → || masterlist

chapter word count: 10,791

“What the hell did you say to Hongjoong?” 

Seonghwa is quick to start grilling you as soon as San leaves the two of you alone, glaring at you across from the dinner table. It takes you a few seconds to even remember what he could be referring to, that conversation with Hongjoong taking the back seat in your mind to everything else that had happened today. 

You set your spoon down, resting your elbows on the table, “I could be asking you the same question.” 

Seonghwa scoffs, mirroring your actions. He leans over the table, though, getting closer to you, “Well I asked first.” 

Frowning, you look him up and down, trying to make him squirm a little bit. Unfortunately for you, he doesn’t seem to find you very intimidating. In fact, he only leans closer to you, his face basically taking up your entire field of view. “What did Hongjoong say that I said?” 

Seonghwa’s eyes flit to your lips, but you pretend like you don’t notice. “He said that you told him we had sex. Among other things.” 

“I said no such thing,” you glare back at him, “I only heavily implied it.” 

“Why?” Seonghwa wets his lips, “do you want to get me in trouble, Princess?” 

You don’t want to be the one to back down from this confrontation, but being this close to Seonghwa without him touching you might actually make you insane. His stupid fucking hot ass fucking face. It’s too distracting. 

But… you’re more stubborn than you are uncomfortable. “Only if you want to get me in trouble.” He smiles a bit at that, but you continue, “if you must know, though, I had to use you as a bit of a scapegoat. I figured you wouldn’t mind, considering the lies you’re telling him about San and me.” 

“Lies?” Seonghwa says sarcastically, “what ever would I lie about?” The question is clearly rhetorical.

But you answer it anyway. “You told him that San and I are together.” 

Seonghwa’s smile grows, “and is that a lie? Aren’t you?” 

“Frankly, it’s not Hongjoong’s business, and it’s not yours, either.”

He brings a hand up to rest under his chin, shrugging his free shoulder. “Difference of opinion. Why should I lie to Hongjoong for you?” 

“Well, San and I aren’t together,” you shrug as well, hoping he’s not picking up on the fact that you’re lying through your teeth. It’s actually a bit… uncomfortable to lie about it like this. You don’t want to have to deny… whatever it is that you have going on with San, but that’s just how it is. You suck it up and hope that Seonghwa can’t see your internal battle as you spit the words out.

Seonghwa bites his lip, “is that so? So he wouldn’t mind if I…” 

You do lean back, then, smacking his elbow out from under him so that his head falls, hopefully shocking him back into reality. “You wish, pervert.” 

He catches his head before he actually hits it on the table, gaping at you, his eyes wide as if he can’t believe that you really just did that. Honestly, you’re kind of surprised that you did it, too. Seonghwa is so fucking tempting. But you’re stronger than that…

“Plus, what would he think,” you tip your head in Hongjoong’s direction, not surprised to see him already staring directly at the two of you. He had been congregating with some of the Followers, but his attention is now clearly occupied, a sneer appearing on his face when he catches you looking. “He already thinks we had sex, no?” 

Seonghwa looks back over his shoulder to glance at Hongjoong, quickly spinning back to face you when he sees the look on his leader’s face. “Yeah, thanks for that, by the way. I had the time of my life trying to explain that I had absolutely no idea what you were talking about.” 

You shrug, “I needed some way to get his mind off of the fact that someone told me about Haneul. It worked.” 

His eyes really go wide, then, “Haneul? Who the fuck told you about Haneul?” 

“You did.” You smile, finally picking your spoon back up to eat some more of your soup. This is a damn good soup, you have to remember to compliment Wooyoung on it… if you guys are on speaking terms. You’re not sure about that. 

Seonghwa groans, also resuming eating his dinner. “I’m going to get my ass handed to me, Princess. Why wouldn’t you just tell him the truth?” He pauses, dropping his spoon back into his soup, “ wait, let me guess. San told you?” 

You shake your head, taking another bite, ignoring his eyes.

“Who else have you been alone with?” 

You shrug again, just to piss him off. 

It doesn’t work. “When San attempted to help Haseul with the escapade last night, did he have someone watch you?” Seonghwa smiles in disbelief. “He really covered his bases. Who was it?” He searches your face as if the answer will be plastered on it. 

It might be, frankly. “It had to have been Wooyoung. Am I right, Princess? Wooyoung watched you? And told you? How on earth did you get that out of him?” 

Staying silent, you opt to keep eating your soup. Wooyoung is the obvious choice, looking at the people that San is close enough to trust with such a secret, so it makes sense that Seonghwa would be able to guess him so easily. But you’re not about to tell Seonghwa that he’s right, so you do your best to keep your face plain. 

“Oh, this is quite fun information. What else did he tell you? Did you see his back?” 

That must be what Wooyoung had been referring to, where his scars are. But, again, you’re not going to ask questions or make Seonghwa believe that he’s right. The last thing that you want to do is throw Wooyoung under the bus for spilling cult secrets that he clearly shouldn’t have. 

Seonghwa leans closer again, whispering, “if I promise to not tell Hongjoong, will you tell me? I’m very curious.” 

You also lean in closer, putting your spoon down once more, “absolutely not. But will you tell me about Haneul?” 

He rolls his eyes, leaning back into his original position. “No, I won’t. She’s quite a sore subject around here.” 

… Yeah, you could’ve guessed that. “Can you at least tell me about Jongho and her?” 

“No?” Seonghwa looks at you like you’ve really lost your mind, “that’s not your business, Princess.” 

“Oh, so their relationship isn’t my business, but my relationship with San is yours?” 

“So you admit to having a relationship with San, then?” Seonghwa smirks, pleased to have finally gotten something out of you.

You sigh, “if you’re jealous, you can just say so.” 

He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, “why on earth would I be jealous of Choi San? If I wanted you so badly, you would be with me.”

You try to make yourself look disgusted at the mere prospect, “that’s bold, even for you.” You say this like the two of you had never been intimate. 

Seonghwa shrugs, looking you up and down before leaning closer once more. “If anything, I’m jealous of his ability to disregard Hongjoong’s orders.” The meaning of this admission isn’t lost on you.

You can’t resist returning the look, letting your eyes linger on the way the sleeves of his shirt strain around his biceps. Personally, you don’t give a damn about Hongjoong’s “orders,” but you’re not about to let Seonghwa win this by giving into him. And you have San to worry about. You lean in closer as well, smiling at Seonghwa. 

“You’re a pervert,” you whisper, keeping the smile plastered on your face. 

Seonghwa smiles, too, despite scoffing at your comment, “that’s really cute, coming from you, Princess.” 

“What is?” San’s voice appears from your side, making the both of you jump backward from each other. 

Seonghwa keeps the nasty smile on his face, looking up at San, “perfect timing, San. If you’d left her alone with me any longer…”

San gives you a puzzled look, sliding onto the seat next to you. He doesn’t get himself a meal, which is… a little strange, but you ignore it, going back to eating your own. 

He ignores Seonghwa’s comment easily. “I couldn’t miss the announcement, could I?” San asks Seonghwa, smiling tightly across the table. 

“Announcement?” You ask, looking between the two of them.

Seonghwa holds a hand up before San can start explaining. “You’ll see, Princess.” He smiles at you like you’re not going to like this announcement at all. “But, San, pray tell, where did you just run off to?” 

San gives you a sideways glance, and you can only imagine that he probably was doing something that you wouldn’t exactly care for. “I had a conversation that needed to be held, privately.” 

Seonghwa raises his eyebrows, “is that so? What ever about? Whomever with?” He asks these questions as if he knows perfectly well their answers, but wants to hear San admit it anyhow. “Why couldn’t your dear (Y/n) be in attendance?” 

You honestly aren’t really sure what San means, but the only explanation that you can think is… he apologized to Mingi? That would honestly make you rather happy, though, so you’re not sure why he wouldn’t want to say it in front of you. Maybe Seonghwa truly doesn’t know, and he wants to keep it that way? You’re honestly not too bothered by the fact that he doesn’t want to say. 

Before San can respond, the cafeteria falls completely silent. 

You twist in your seat to face the front of the room, not at all surprised to see Hongjoong standing there, his hands folded behind his back. He still has that weird outfit on, the ties of the robe dangling down, brushing against his knees with each small movement he makes. 

He looks to you, then, giving you a sideways smile before turning back to address the room. 

“It is with great joy that I make this announcement tonight.” The cafeteria is just as silent as the chapel. You look around, not at all surprised to see that not a single pair of eyes aren’t on Hongjoong. “Finally, we are prepared to start our harvest season.” 

A gentle applause starts, much like the kind you would expect at some sort of… gala, or something. Hongjoong holds a hand up and it immediately halts, everyone in the room once again waiting with baited breath. “Of course, this indicates the start of prosperous times for our group,” he gives you another glance, “but it also invites upon us some of the most troublesome ceremonies and events, as well as opening the door to… unwelcome possibilities.” 

… Yeah, whatever the hell that means. 

“As harvest will commence in the morning, our first event will happen during our morning gathering. I expect everyone to be in attendance, including children and those otherwise excused. It’s important that we are united as a group, as you all very well know.”

Everyone? Does that include Haseul? Surely it does, even if she hasn’t had a Choosing Ceremony. You want to believe that you’ll get to see your friend, but… You’re not sure. Hongjoong probably will keep her from you as long as he can; keep you on his little leash until he’s decided that you’re obedient enough again.

He waits, holding the attention of the room for a second longer, a tense look on his face. “You all must know that I don’t say these things to scare you. But the harvest season is trying for the Sign, and our connection is in peril every second that…” Hongjoong clears his throat around the words. “That we leave it unguarded. Those participating in the morning ceremony will be notified tonight.” 

With that, he turns away from the center of the cafeteria, eyes locking onto your table. Conversation picks back up as he strides toward the three of you, a smile replacing the tenseness. 

“Let me guess,” you say to neither Seonghwa nor San in particular, “I’m about to be notified of something?” 

Seonghwa smirks, “you can be so bright sometimes.” 

“(Y/n)!” Hongjoong calls your name when he’s a few feet away, closing the distance enough to rest a hand on your shoulder before asking, “Are you excited for your first harvest?” 

You blink up at him, amazed that he still even bothers, “you just made it sound like something to be weary of, rather than excited for.” 

He shrugs, squeezing your shoulder once before releasing you to sit next to Seonghwa. “We haven’t covered the Guardians yet.” 

“The what now?” 

Hongjoong waves his hand in the air to dismiss your question, “you’ll learn in due time.”

For a second, you think that Seonghwa even rolls his eyes, but that would be truly unfathomable. You’re happy enough to write off whatever the fuck the ‘Guardians’ are. The last thing you want right now is another lesson in cult lore.

“Anyhow,” he clasps his hands, resting them on the table. “You’ll be participating in the ceremony tomorrow. Its a fun one, too.” 

You look at San, though he’s looking anywhere but at you. Turning back to Hongjoong, you ask, “do I get to know what this ceremony entails ahead of time, or are you going to surprise stab me again?” You’re honestly surprised by how bold you feel, given everything that’s happened. Maybe seeing him cry reduces him a little bit… no, that’s not it. Whatever it was, you’re just not feeling particularly intimidated by Hongjoong at the moment, surprisingly.

Hongjoong waves a hand in the air, “there’s no need to be so dramatic, (Y/n).”

Honestly, you still think it was a fair question. But you feel lucky that he’s clearly in the bantering mood as well.

“You’ve already been Chosen; you won’t have to prove yourself again,” San offers, albeit rather quietly and more so to himself than to you. 

“I feel that its best that you’re prepared for the ceremony,” Hongjoong ignores San’s comment, “Seonghwa can cover it with you.” 

Seonghwa jerks his head toward his leader. “I can? I thought I wa—”

Hongjoong smiles, stopping Seonghwa in his tracks. “You’ll do as I say.”

He only nods in response, turning away from Hongjoong. To your relief, he doesn’t lay a glare on you once more, returning to his meal instead. 

“San, let’s talk privately for a moment,” Hongjoong rises, beckoning San to follow him. San furrows his brows, but stands anyway, following Hongjoong until they’re out of earshot from your table.

You turn your attention back to Seonghwa. “Let me hear it.” 

He drops his spoon again, looking annoyed at the prospect of having to spend anymore time with you. “I need a copy of The Answer to properly explain it.” 

“You’re telling me you don’t keep one on yourself at all times?” 

Seonghwa blinks at you. Leaning back, he unbuttons his jacket, reaching a hand to the inside pocket. Low and behold, he pulls a copy of The Answer from the interior pocket, gently placing it onto the table between you two. 

You had been half joking. 

He buttons his jacket again, sliding his tray away from himself. Wordlessly, he picks up the book, flipping to the back pages before landing on whatever page he was searching for. He turns his wrist, showing you the page.

Highlighted in yellow and underlined maybe five times is the title:

HARVEST PRACTICES

The chapter that follows is broken into a few different sections, from what you can see on the pages in view. The first subtitle reads:

INVOCATION AND PROTECTION

“Your hand is shaking too much for me to read that,” you complain, grabbing the book from Seonghwa’s hands. You slide your own tray away, setting the book on the table to read. 

The text continues.

Perhaps one of the most strenuous times a year comes during harvest season. Though the crop can be bountiful and the blessings many, there are also dangers that follow. This implicates the necessity to instate a protective guard around our group; a ward to protect ourselves so as to protect our Clones. 

On the first day of the harvest, the following ceremony must be conducted to insure safety throughout the season. The steps are outlined here; however HONGJOONG may adapt these provisions as he sees fit per the requirements of the year. 

Typical ceremony regalia should be worn by all Followers. Ten Followers are chosen at random to participate in the ceremony.

Participation is mandatory once selected; certain Followers may be required to participate every year due to their given role in Universe One. 

At 6 A.M. The ceremony begins. The ten Followers link hands in a circle.

They recite the following incantation, taking three steps to the left following each break.

On this day we make our vow.

The Answer is near; we shall not wonder or fear.

I myself am mighty and true. My blood will protect and provide anew

The barrier is weak.

United, we cast away the evil that would do us harm. We uninvite the spirits that dance between this Universe and the next.

Following the incantation, each member shall raise their hands. The ceremonial blade is presented, and each Follower shall gently open their left palm, letting the blood drop into the center of the circle while reciting:

I offer this vessel of myself for the betterment of the community. My blood banishes the evil from them, and calls it toward me. I swear this today and everyday.

At the completion of each vow, the final words will be said:

We call upon you to stay away.

The Sacrifice will then be presented. It is to be left on the altar for one day.

This is the conclusion of the ceremony.

This ceremony is not infallible. Should trouble arise before, during, or after, HONGJOONG and designated Followers will resolve the issue. 

You stop reading, looking up at Seonghwa. “Sacrifice?”

He nods. 

“That’s, like, pretty cliche,” you frown, “and that rhyme sucks.” 

“Be more respectful.” Seonghwa mirrors your frown, “Hongjoong isn’t a poet, he’s a prophet.” 

“Really? I thought he was God?” 

Seonghwa only gives you a more exasperated look, rolling his eyes.

You scan over the ceremony again, trying to make sure you’re getting the details correct. “What’s this about ‘calling the evil towards me?’ And the blood? Is that really necessary?” 

He glances over your shoulder, a relieved expression gracing his features, “San, you have a knack for perfect timing today.”

You turn to look back and, sure enough, San is approaching your table again. 

San looks between you, Seonghwa, and the copy of The Answer in your hands, putting the pieces together. “Questions?” 

“A few,” you mutter, suddenly not very interested. You don’t mind pestering Seonghwa for answers to all of your questions, but you aren’t keen on asking San the same way. “But it can wait. What did Hongjoong want?”

San takes his place next to you again, shrugging as he does so. “He was just letting me know the plan for tomorrow.” 

Seonghwa reaches for his book, plucking it out of your hands before you can respond to San. “I trust you won’t be needing my copy, anymore.” 

Resisting the urge to mock him, you respond to San instead. “Such as…?”

“When to be there, how to help you dress, so on.” 

So on… Why does it feel like there’s a lot more emphasis on the ending of that list? They had been gone for a good five minutes, there had to be more than that, surely. Why wouldn’t San tell you the whole truth? What good would that do for him? 

You stay quiet, trying to ignore your suspicions. If you can’t trust San, who can you trust? 

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

It turns out that you have to wake up significantly more early than usual.

San shakes you awake at four, ignoring your pleas for five more minutes. “I waited as long as I could, (Y/n).” 

You grumble and moan, but find it in yourself to get out of bed. For Haseul. That’s what you tell yourself. All of this is for Haseul. Your cooperation is for her. Had she not been here, you’d be kicking and screaming the whole way. 

But, unfortunately, Hongjoong figured out how to play you like a damn fiddle. So here you are, tugging on the same black dress pants that you had put on… what, three weeks ago? A month ago? Longer? You have no idea. 

You manage to button your shirt correctly this time, though your face burns at the memory of Seonghwa having to help you dress. What had happened to you? You never would have thought that the day would come where you would voluntarily wear this… cult regalia. 

San watches, already fully dressed by the time that he woke you up. You have to admit that he looks handsome in all black, the clothes clearly tailored to fit him. Two or three silver necklaces hang down his chest, matching rings gracing his fingers. He hasn’t put his mask on, yet, or his hat, leaving his features exposed in the security of your apartment. 

“Let me help,” he offers, squatting to his knees to help you tie your boots as you pull them on. He ties your right shoe as you tie your left, lacing them with the deftness of well-trained hands. 

Of course, he finishes before you do. He takes over tying your left shoe, smiling up at you as you yield the laces to him. “Thank you.” 

He only pats your knee, standing back up and offering his hand to you. You take it and rise as well, glancing at the clock. 4:29. 

The ceremony starts at 6. You’re not really sure why you have to be in positions so early, but… whatever. You’re not going to fight it. You can do this, you’re sure of it. For Haseul, you’ll do it. 

San opens the wardrobe, grabbing your two hats off of the top shelf. Had you ever noticed them sitting there? You’re not sure. Maybe someone had brought them in. 

He hands you yours, swirling his around on his finger instead of putting it on. “How are you feeling?” 

You put the hat on. “Fine.” 

“You sure?” He sounds genuine enough, and you don’t doubt that he’s at least a little worried for you. And, obviously, given the circumstances with Haseul… 

“I just hope I don’t fuck up.” 

San frowns, reaching for your hand. You let him take it. 

“Everything will be fine,” he promises, rubbing your hand with his. “It’ll be over before you know it!” 

Forcing a smile, you nod. He’s probably right. If you just grit your teeth and bare it, the whole thing will be over as quickly as you can say the stupid little incantation. There’s no reason to be afraid or worried. 

… That’s what you really want to believe. But you can’t bring yourself to think that it will actually be that easy. Something is going to happen. Something bad. You’re sure of it, now, in this moment. You’re more sure of it than anything else. 

Hongjoong won’t just let this happen. He won’t just let this pan out easily. He has something planned, and you’re sure that it’s something terrible…

The sacrifice mentioned in the steps… you had never had the chance to ask about it. Something is going to happen then, you’re sure. At the moment of the sacrifice or the moment that it’s presented, it’s going to be something beyond even your imagination. 

Hongjoong’s insanity knows no bounds, and that is something that you know for a positive fact. He can’t just have something go well or normally when you’re involved. He will have to stick his fingers in the pie, have to meddle to make something happen. 

Your stomach flips as you consider the possibilities. You suddenly feel woozy. 

“Hey,” San calls your attention back to the moment at hand, grabbing your other arm with his free hand. “Are you alright?” 

You blink at him, “Just a little lightheaded is all.” 

“Do you want something to eat?” He starts to pull you toward the kitchenette, but the thought of eating only makes your stomach feel heavier. 

Planting your feet, you shake your head. “No, no, I’m fine. I just want to get this over with.”

You’re not lying. If something is going to happen (when something is going to happen), you would rather just have it be done and have it be over. 

Whatever it is, you’re sure that you can survive it. You’ve made it this far without losing your wits or dying, you’re sure that you can make it through a ten minute ordeal. Even if it is particularly nasty or horrible. 

Fuck, you just hope the sacrifice isn’t a person. You’re, like, sixty percent sure that it won’t be, but… that forty percent is still a question mark. At least you know it won’t be you. 

That’s probably not the right mindset. But, hey, that’s life, isn’t it? 

San looks between you and the clock, looking disappointed. “I guess we don’t really have time, anyhow. I’m sorry.” He apologizes, dropping his hands from you. 

You brush off the apology, following him as he leaves the room and approaches your door. 

“You’re sure that you’re okay?” San asks again, pausing by your front door. “I can make up some excuse if I have to.” 

You don’t have to force a smile, this time. “I’m going to be fine as soon as this is over.” 

He nods in acceptance, opening the door and holding it open for you.

The two of you head to the chapel in silence, other Followers wearing their all-black regalia crowding the hallways and stairwells. A few people smile and wave at you, though you can’t really say that you recognize them. 

As you squeeze through the halls, you wonder where Haseul is being kept. In one of the single rooms, you’re sure, but which one… 

You almost have the urge to start knocking on every door on the women’s floor, jangle each doorknob and greet each person until you find her…

But that would be silly, and you know that. You’d only be punished if you went looking for her. Worse, she would probably be punished for your stupidity, too. 

That’s not going to happen. 

So you fight the feeling, just as you fought your panic. Your stomach is still a wreck as you follow San. You don’t hold his hand, not in public, but you wish that you could grab him for some semblance of comfort. 

He would take your hand if you tried, you realize. Clearly, he doesn’t have much of an issue speaking about your relationship, at least with Mingi. 

The memory of their argument brings a sour expression to your face. You’re still not very pleased with how San had acted, or with how Mingi had, either. Even after the apology… 

And San never confirmed that he apologized to Mingi. Well, you had never asked him. 

But whatever. That has to be a problem for another day, for another you. Or at least for the you of three hours from now. You can’t go into this being pissed at basically the only two people that you like here. 

That doesn’t give much credit to Nayeon or Yunho or Wooyoung or Yeosang, you realize, but whatever. You don’t need to be debating who your friends are and who your friends aren’t.

After what happened with Wooyoung, anyways, would you really consider him a friend? Had you really processed any of what he had told you? What the fuck.

Your head swims with the reality of everything that has been happening to you in the past couple days. You’ve experienced enough goddamn trauma to let Dr. Phil run another 12 seasons on you alone. Fucking hell. Literally what the fuck.

You finally reach the big doors, relishing the feeling of stepping into the cool outside air. The hallways had been stuffy with the weight of all of the Followers, and the sudden breeze is refreshing; especially given your fucking outfit. 

The sun hasn’t even poked above the horizon, yet. You wouldn’t even call it dawn. But you don’t have to squint to make out the chapel in this distance. 

The sea of Followers in front of you lead the way to the holy place, a swarm of black across the farm. 

You wonder how many of them there really are. If Hongjoong said that everyone had to attend this ceremony… fuck. There’s a lot of people. Just the people you can see outside seem to outnumber what you would have originally thought. 

How in the world had Hongjoong recruited so many people? 

How many of these people actually believed every word that he said? You’d have to assume most of them. What would they do to make him happy? To keep him happy? 

The thought sends an unwelcome shiver down your spine, only making your stomach worse.

The walk isn’t long, and you soon find yourself passing the doors that are being held open by the swarm of people crowding through them. 

It’s fuller than you’ve ever seen it, the chapel. Some people are already seated in the pews, chatting with their peers. The majority of the Followers, however, are still standing, mingling in the aisle.

You follow San’s lead, presuming that he’ll take you wherever you need to be. He goes about halfway to the front of the chapel, stopping in a less-populated area of the aisle in what you assume is an attempt to make you calmer. You’re not sure that it helps, but you appreciate the gesture, anyhow.

You wonder who the other Followers that were chosen for the ceremony are. Will anyone that you know be up there to comfort you? It probably wouldn’t make a difference, but at least one familiar face would be welcome. 

As you glance around the room, you find your eyes tugging toward the Sign of the Answer, the huge one on the wall. Hongjoong’s chair is gone in preparation for the ceremony, so you’re able to see it in all of its glory. Per usual, the chapel is lit by candles, and the light glints off of the Sign exactly how you remember it looking the night that you had been Chosen. The memory makes you more nervous.

San puts a hand on your arm, calling your attention back to him. You glance at his face first, only to see him looking ahead as someone approaches. For a split second, you’re worried that its going to be Mingi. 

But it’s only Wooyoung, you realize. 

He stops in front of you, two glasses in his hands. “Hello,” he greets you, looking between the two of you.

San returns the hello, but you can’t bring yourself to respond. Something about the sight of him disturbs you. And the glasses in his hands.

He gets straight to business.

“Drink this,” Wooyoung holds out a champagne glass filled with something that is decidedly not champagne. Instead of sparkling, yellow liquid, this is a flat, blood red. 

You hesitantly take the stem, tilting the glass to watch the liquid move. Thankfully, it doesn’t actually seem to be blood. You take a sniff, not all that surprised to smell the familiar red wine scent. 

“It’s just wine. For the nerves.”

Shrugging, you take a sip. He’s not lying, but… “Last time you fed me in this room you also drugged me.” 

Wooyoung mirrors your shrug. “Don’t drink it then.”

You glance at San, who also shrugs. 

“Well fuck it, then.” In an action reminiscent of your college days, you down the glass; ignoring the bitterness as best you can. 

Wooyoung takes the glass back from you. “Good luck, then.” 

He excuses himself, wandering back into the crowd with the other glass. You assume that he’s handing them out to all of the participating Followers, but you opt to stop watching him to look back at San.

“Do you think that was drugged?” You ask San, rubbing your palms on your jacket. 

His eyes go wide, “I wouldn’t have let you drink it if I thought it was!” 

“I’m not sure I trust Hongjoong that much.” 

“I do.” San puts a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it gently. His words don’t offer you any comfort, but the hand is pleasant enough.

Well, you’ll know soon enough, anyhow. Maybe this would all go a lot more smoothly if you were drugged, somehow. Your heart feels like a damn jackhammer in your chest.

You try to look around, wanting to spot any familiar face in the crowd for any sense of comfort. It’s just so damn hard with everyone dressed like the fucking grim reaper. You think that you spot Nayeon, briefly, her long brown hair contrasting beautifully to the fitted black of her coat. 

Yunho is hard to miss, his height only exaggerated by the hat atop his head. You’re not entirely sure where you stand with him, though, given your place with Mingi. If Mingi’s still pissed at you (which, to give him credit, you’re not sure if he is), Yunho probably is too. 

Speaking of Mingi, he approaches Yunho, his own height rather hard to miss in the crowd. He grabs his friend’s shoulder, exclaiming something that’s a bit too quiet for you to make out. But you know Mingi’s voice when you hear it. 

After this, you have to talk to Mingi. Even though you might be a little… upset? Disappointed? At his outburst and his childish behavior, you have to make things right by him. Yunho, too, you suppose. 

You still hold out hope that Haseul will make an appearance, though you’re sure Hongjoong made arrangements to keep her away. Though… if Mingi is here, who's watching her? It probably wouldn’t be hard to find someone else, but someone else that Hongjoong trusted that much… that’s a different story. You know that you should probably just drop it, but there’s something in you that feels like she’ll show up… you certainly have a lot of feelings, this morning. 

A hand wraps around your elbow, startling you. You don’t have to look to recognize Hongjoong, his touch alone enough to identify him, burning hot even through your jacket.

“(Y/n),” he purrs, holding you close to him, “how are you feeling?” 

You try to pull your arm away, to no avail. “Like I’m going to be sick.” 

Hongjoong laughs, “you’ll be completely fine. You’re not the sacrifice.” 

That doesn’t do anything to calm your nerves. That’s not what you’re worried about. And you’d rather not have to play one of his stupid games. “I have a sense that some anvil is about to fall on my head.” 

“Hmmm,” he hums, “maybe. Maybe not. It depends on what you’re picturing.”

“I’m picturing what you wrote in The Answer.” You force the words out through gritted teeth. It’s so fucking annoying when he does this; when he doesn’t just speak his mind. You’d much prefer him telling you that, yeah, you’re about to be grievously harmed than have him just dangle the thought in front of your eyes.

“Well, either way, I’m sure you understand what will happen if you disrupt the ceremony.” Hongjoong’s voice is laced with that sickening smile of his, “or if you fail to complete your part in it.” 

He’s right, he doesn’t need to remind you in the slightest. You can only imagine the fear that Haseul is in right now, but your own fear for her must be ten times worse. The idea of Hongjoong putting his hands on her makes your gut churn.

The fact that he backed you into such a perfect corner is almost sickening. It pisses you off to no end. Why did he have to bring her into this? Not that you would want him to use this treatment on Mingi, but, like, fuck, he at least already had him here. Was it really necessary to involve a completely innocent girl? 

If you didn’t care what happened to her, you might just spit in the man’s face at this very second. 

“I get it, Hongjoong.” 

“Then you’ll do great!” He releases your arm, opting to pat your shoulder a couple times. “Simply stick to the outline. Do your part. And it’ll be over quickly.” 

You take a deep breath, “Hongjoong,” you hope that saying his name will make him listen to you, “can I see her, afterword?” 

His hand stops on your shoulder, squeezing. “Let’s see how you fare, first.” His voice seems harder with these words, more sharp. Hopefully that wasn’t some sort of huge overstep to him. 

He cuts off the conversation at that, leaving your side to rejoin the crowd of Followers. He’s wearing the same outfit he had been wearing yesterday, the shiny material catching the light of the candles ever so as he moves. 

“San,” you turn toward where San was standing, only to find him gone. You whirl around in a circle in a way that must look comical, searching for where he could have gone off to. He doesn’t appear to be in your near vicinity, somehow completely, wordlessly disappeared. 

Dread swirls in your stomach. You were going to ask him if he knew what the sacrifice was going to be, finally reminded.

As if commanded by some outside force, the majority of the Followers suddenly stop their conversations. The room falls silent as people make their ways to their usual pews, sliding silently into their seats. 

Per usual, you’ve been left out of the loop. 

Without San to guide you into place, you really have no idea what you’re supposed to be doing. You look toward the front of the chapel, expecting to find Hongjoong glaring at you, but not even he is there to tell you what to do. 

Looking around to the other Followers that are still standing, you’re mildly surprised to see Yunho only a couple feet away. He catches your eye, tipping his head toward the front of the room in signal. He starts walking, so you start walking. 

You’re hyper aware of the sound of your footsteps on the wood floors, your boots clicking with each step. Yunho’s do, too. The steps are the only sound in the chapel. 

With bated breath, you reach the front of the room. You glance toward your usual pew, hoping to see San sitting in your spot. He’s not, however, only making the rock in your stomach that much heavier. 

Yunho steps up onto the little stage, offering you his hand to help with the step up. You take it, joining him and turning toward the congregation of Followers. From this angle, you can see… it takes you a second to count the heads… eight other Followers approaching the stage. You try to find Hongjoong among them, but he’s not there. Neither is San.

After what feels like forever, Yunho and yourself are joined by the others. You read this part, you feel okay about it. Well, not okay okay, but, like, you know. At least you know what to expect. 

Yunho grabs your left hand, as someone you can’t recall the name of takes the place to your right; taking that hand into theirs. 

The ten of you link into a circle, hand-in-hand. 

You had kind of expected there to be more guidance from Hongjoong in this process. A narration or a sort of sermon over the top of your actions, but Hongjoong remains unseen and unheard as the Followers around you start their recitation. 

“On this day we make our vow,” you don’t jump into the speech until the next sentence, unsure of how they knew that it was time to start. “From henceforth we pledge ourselves.”

You take three steps to your left. The Sign of the Answer twinkles in your peripheral vision. The Followers in the pews have their heads bowed. 

“The Answer is near. We shall not wonder or fear.” 

Three more steps. 

“I myself am mighty and true. My blood will protect and provide anew.” 

Three more steps to the left. This time, you almost step on Yunho’s toes. You try to look at the other Followers in your circle, but their heads are similarly bowed. You look back down at your feet. You’re lightheaded. 

“The barrier is weak.”

Your hands float upwards, along with the rest of the circle’s. Still connected, everyone’s hands hang in the air of the center of the circle. 

“United, we cast away the evil that would do us harm. We uninvite the spirits that dance between this Universe and the next.” 

Someone, you’re not sure who, breaks the circle first. Your eyes are closed, you realize. You open them only when Yunho’s hand leaves your own; barely hearing his hushed whispering at your side. Before you know it, the knife is in your own hands. 

It’s already sparkling with blood. At least Yunho’s. The lowlight makes it hard to see, but the Sign of the Answer does a beautiful job of illuminating just enough to reawaken your nausea. What the fuck is happening, right now? What the fuck are you about to do?

Yunho’s blood drips down the blade and onto your hand. It’s warm. 

You’re sure that you’re going to faint. 

But you hold the blade to your left hand, anyways, saying the words as quietly as you can. Surely, this is all just some batshit insane cult ceremony, but the weight of speaking them outloud is still sickening. 

“I offer this vessel of myself for the betterment of the community. My blood banishes the evil from them, and calls it toward me. I swear this today and everyday.” 

You swipe the blade across your palm, handing it off to the Follower next to you as fast as you can manage. You close your eyes again. Your hand burns. You almost think that you can hear your blood, dropping from your palm and hitting the floor.

At some point, the last person finishes. The knife clatters to the floor, the only sound in the chapel. You know to take three more steps to the left. And to finish the words. 

“We call upon you to stay away.” 

The scream makes you open your eyes. 

Disorientated, you realize that you’re facing away from the crowd, staring directly at the Sign. But it’s not glowing anymore. 

You turn around, blinded. Every candle in the chapel has gone out.

Was that the source of the scream? The lights going out? What the fuc—

The door behind the stage slams open. You jump again, spinning back as though you’d be able to see anything, anyhow. 

Someone in the audience wails. 

Are they seeing something that you’re not? Your heart pounds hard, so so hard. Is this panic? The spell? A heart attack? 

You need to sit down. Yunho grabs your hand before you can stumble off of the stage. He pulls you behind him, keeping the arm behind his back to hold you there. 

You fist the back of his coat, probably soiling the material with your blood, but it’s all you can do to keep yourself standing upright. The urge to vomit hits you again, but you prevail, closing your eyes as tight as you can. 

Is this supposed to happen? This wasn’t in the outline. Are you meant to feel like such shit right now?

How did all of the candles go out?

Who the fuck is interrupting? 

Something, or someone, drops in the middle of the circle. 

You open your eyes again, peering around Yunho. The rest of the circle had stayed in place. 

At the center of your circle, now, is a head. 

Not a human head, thank God, but a pig’s. Your stomach still revolts, still tumbling over and over itself as you slide back into your spot in the circle. You clamp onto Yunho’s hand like its the only thing that you’ve ever known, grounding yourself the only way that you can. 

Its still so dark. You close your eyes again

You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do now. Is it over? You hope to God that its over. You can’t take another goddamned minute of thi—

You open your eyes at the same instant that Yunho yells. Everything happens so fucking fast. 

Yunho falls backward, off of the stage. You process this secondly. Chiefly, however, your attention is caught by the figure now in front of you, where the pig head had been seconds before. 

It’s huge. You can’t comprehend it entirely, what it is that you’re seeing. It doesn’t even look human. It grabs your now vacant hand, pulling you away from the Followers. 

There’s a collective scream behind you, and you’re not surprised to realize that you’re also screaming. 

You try to look into the face. But it doesn’t have a face. It’s nothing. Is this death? 

You’re falling backwards, now. Before you know it, you’re on the ground, curling in on yourself.

Someone turns the overhead lights on. You cradle your hands to your chest, aware of the fact that you’re crying. The tears are hot on your cheeks. The blood is hot on your hands. The feeling of that, that, fucking thing making you want to retch. 

What the fuck was that? What the fuck? 

Hongjoong appears at your side, his face blurry. From your tears, from the panic? You’re not sure. 

He asks if you’re okay. You can’t answer him. You close your eyes again.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

In your sleep, you see it again. 

Even in this instance, you can’t tell what it is. It’s shaped like a person, but you can’t look directly at it. You know that if you look, it won’t have a face.

In your dream, it’s even bigger than it was. It towers over you, grabbing you over and over, your screaming and begging doing nothing to appease it. 

You can see its hands as they reach, as they latch onto you. They’re white. But they’re not skin. It’s cloth, you realize, gloves. 

The rest of it is white, too. But it certainly doesn’t look like clothing. You couldn’t ever explain it to someone if they asked, and you’re much too terrified to go digging into the details. 

All you know is that it doesn’t have a face. It’s not natural. Every part of you hates every part of this thing. 

You want to wake up.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

And so you do, in the infirmary. 

The first thing you see are the familiar ceiling tiles. The second thing is Hongjoong.

You startle awake, twitching in on yourself as you try to sit up. 

Hongjoong sucks in a breath, though he doesn’t get to his feet to help you. He’s still wearing that outfit. 

You’re still wearing yours, you realize. The pants rub uncomfortably against the blanket laying over you. You’re able to sit up easily enough, and you’re relieved to realize that nothing hurts. You feel fine.

“So, do you believe me now?” Hongjoong asks once you’re up, but he’s not smiling in triumph as you would’ve imagined.

“What the fuck was that thing?” 

Hongjoong sighs, “Exactly what I was trying to protect us from. A guardian.”

You blink at him, dumbfounded. There’s literally no fucking way in hell that Hongjoong has been right about any of this. He’s insane. He is fully, entirely, batshit insane. 

You can’t explain away whatever the fuck just happened, but you’re not about to accept that he’s been telling you the truth. That there are alternate universes and demons that can jump between them. That’s not real life. That’s not how the world works. 

Whatever just happened, whatever that was, there’s a reasonable explanation. Surely. 

Though you can’t imagine what that explanation would be, it must exist. The last fucking thing in the world that you’re going to do now is believe in Hongjoong. Like, what the fuck? What the fuck? Why would you fucking believe in a fucking religion that has fucking faceless demons fucking running around freely? You wouldn’t. You refuse. You will not. 

Even if that is the only explanation for the thing in white, you are not going to believe it. You would sooner believe that you have a hallucination disorder than accept that Hongjoong is right about anything. 

Thinking about it, you probably would have to have some sort of psychosis to accept any of this. But, then again, this is exactly the sort of thing that would trigger psychosis… 

You’re thinking way too fucking hard about this. It is simple. Hongjoong is a freak.

“Where’s San?” The question is natural. 

Hongjoong raises his eyebrows, “Interesting follow-up question. I thought it best to separate you two for now.” 

“Why?” 

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he stands up. “How is your hand?” 

You had honestly forgotten about it. Holding it up, you examine your bandage. “Fine.” 

The two of you stay in silence. Hongjoong seems mad. 

“Is that really all you’re going to ask?” He asks, almost sounding whiny. Like a child. 

It’s certainly all you’re going to ask him. He’ll only lie to you. “Can I see Seonghwa?” You ask instead.

Hongjoong scoffs. He brushes his hair back, looking around the room as if he’s expecting some live studio audience to empathize with him. “I know you’re not fucking him.” 

You shrug. “Are you okay, Hongjoong?” 

His face falls flat. He crosses his arms over his chest, turning to fully face you again. “I’m great.” The words are strained. You’ve never known Hongjoong to be a bad liar. 

“You seem kinda pissed.” 

“I am not—” He closes his eyes, bringing a hand up to his forehead. “I’m fine. I’ll have Seonghwa come visit, since you clearly won’t be speaking to me.” He says this like he expects you to apologize. But what the hell would you apologize for? 

Hongjoong leaves without another word once it becomes clear that you won’t be giving him what he wants. You’re sure that he expected more crying, more fear, more begging and pleading for answers. 

You save that for once you’re sure that he’s gone.

Trembling, you pull your knees to your chest. Your fingers twitch with fear, your hair feels foreignly heavy, your wrist burns and burns where the thing had touched you. 

You refuse to believe that it was real. It cannot be real. None of this can be real. There was some trick, some show, some plan that you weren’t privy to. Seonghwa will tell you. He’ll have to tell you. He’s honest, most of the time. He’ll explain it away, he’ll tell you how Hongjoong did it and why it seemed so real. 

Where was its face? 

How had they done that? Where the fact should have been, there was nothing. You couldn’t even say that it was a color. It was a void. An emptiness. There was nothing there. 

The memory makes you dizzy. You lean back against the pillows, praying to God that you’re not going insane. Had you really seen that? You couldn’t have. Because that’s just not something that’s possible. 

If Seonghwa can’t explain this, you might go crazy. You might. What else is there to do? It wasn’t real. But the fear that you’re feeling now certainly is. 

What if it comes back? What if they make it come back? What was it? Where was its face? 

Even though whatever the fuck that was wasn’t real, the memory certainly is. You’re going to be lucky to sleep soundly one night for the rest of your damn life. What the fuck. 

Seonghwa lets himself into the room only a few minutes after Hongjoong had left. 

“You like me so much that you ask for me now?” He smirks, approaching your side. 

His face falls flat when he takes a good look at you. “Stop that. Why are you crying?” 

“Seonghwa.” You feel that it’s quite obvious why you’re crying. 

He only blinks at you. 

“What the fuck was that?” Your voice shakes with the question. 

“I—” He starts, opening and closing his mouth a few times. “Its complicated.” 

You cover your face with your hands. “Was it real? Just be honest.” 

You can’t see his reaction to your question, and he doesn’t answer it, either. 

“What was it?” You moan, hardly able to even spit the words out. To basically admit to Seonghwa that you were scared.

“I think it would be better if you talked to Hongjoo—”

“I am not talking to Hongjoong!” 

You take your hands away from your face, needing to look at him. You hate him. You hate him more than fucking anything. Why can’t he just be honest? Why is he Hongjoong’s little fucking doll? Why does he worship him to such a degree when he’s this fucking evil? Where would he draw the line? 

Seonghwa is stunned into silence. He only stares down at you.

“All I can say is that I didn’t know it was going to happen.” 

He looks blurry through your tears, only making you angrier as you recall Hongjoong looking the same way.

“Stop bullshitting me, please, Seonghwa,” you beg. “I think I’ll go insane if you don’t fucking answer me.” 

He turns away from your bed, striding to one of the medicine cabinets in an attempt to look anywhere but your face. He rakes a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead momentarily. 

“What do you want to hear?” He asks, turning back toward you, though he keeps his distance. “Would you rather know what Hongjoong is capable of or would you rather keep the comforting thought that he’s right? Wouldn’t that just be easier for everybody?” 

“You’re saying that Hongjoong can do things scarier than the thought of fucking interdimensional demons being real?” You throw your hands out in front of you, almost yelling in frustration. 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying! Yes!” Seonghwa matches your tone. “He’s only going to come at you harder. He exists to make you break! Just fucking accept the truth for what he says that it is, and everything will come easily!” 

“I’m not going to do that!” 

Seonghwa laughs bitterly. “I’m sure you believe that, too, Princess.” 

You stare back at him, sure that you look insane. “Can you be genuine for one fucking second?” 

His face contorts into a scowl. “I’ve never been anything but genuine with you. You’re the one that deludes yourself.” He strides back to the door, freezing in the frame. “Is there anything else you wish to fling at me?” 

“I’m taking this to mean that it wasn’t real.” 

“If that helps you sleep at night.” 

Seonghwa leaves. 

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

Can you bear some girl time? You’re not sure as Nayeon lets herself in, walking casually into the room as if the literal antichrist of her religion didn’t just make a physical appearance before her. 

“How are we feeling?” She asks, dragging out the vowel sounds in her question. 

“Uhm,” you look at your hand, the only injured part of your body, “fine, I guess.” 

“Perfect!” She smiles, reaching out to put her hand under yours. “The bandage looks fine. I don’t think it’ll reopen.” 

Nayeon had found time to change her clothes. She’s back to her usual farm girl outfit, smiling and happy. 

“Are you alright, Nayeon?” You ask, curious to know what a regular Follower made of what the fuck happened. 

She frowns, and then shrugs, and then smiles again. “I mean, it was, like, a bit scary. But Hongjoong made it go away, and he’s always with us, so it’s not like it can come back to hurt us. I was definitely scared at first, but then he showed up and I knew it would be okay.” 

“Uh-huh,” you nod, slowly. Nayeon has always been a valuable source of information for you. 

“It was just so valiant; do you remember how he saved you?” She giggles, “he still has it going for you. It’s amazing.” 

You shake your head. “I can’t say that I remember much…” Other than the fucking maw of emptiness. 

“Oh, well I got you.” She pulls up one of her rolling stools, sitting herself down right next to your bed. “So the ceremony went great. Textbook, really. But as it was finishing… I guess I’m not really sure how it happened, either. Like, one second everything was fine, and the next Yunho was on the ground— he’s fine, by the way; wind knocked out of him, but yeah, anyways— and the Guardian was there and everyone was screaming, it was so scary. I guess it grabbed you… and then Hongjoong appeared and it was like his presence just scared it away. I didn’t see what happened exactly… but the next thing I knew you were on the ground and Hongjoong was hollering for my help.” 

She shrugs. 

What you gather from that is that she didn’t see how it got there or how it left. Good signs, probably. She’d certainly remember seeing something… appear out of thin air. You almost want to smile. What a silly thought, that that could have all been real… haha… ha… yeah, funny…

“I see…” You respond, not sure what you’re supposed to say, “how much time has passed?” 

Nayeon looks at her watch, “like, three hours.” 

Great. Perfect, actually. It would be very unfortunate to find out that you had been unconscious for a week again, especially given the circumstances with Haseul. She’s probably already freaking out, but not hearing anything from you for a week… 

Is Hongjoong going to let you see her? After your brush with death? It wasn’t your fault that… whatever happened happened. Like, he planned that, not you. Surely he can’t hold this over your head. If anything, you basically almost just got kidnapped into a parallel universe, he should be treating you very kindly, right? 

Asshole. He’s probably going to bitch and moan for the next week about you not being scared of him. Fucking asshat. 

But… God, ugh, this is all so frustrating. On one hand, you’re pissed at him for, you don’t know, literally everything that he’s ever done to you, maybe? But on the other, you know that you’re going to have to play by his rules to get him to leave Haseul alone. Or, well, at least as alone as he can.

When is she going to have a Choosing ceremony, you wonder? Yours didn’t take very long… 

Well, if he doesn’t let you see her after this, at least you have that to… tentatively look forward to… ew, you don’t even want to be thinking like that. 

Nayeon stands at your side, bringing you back. 

You don’t realize why until you look behind her, only to spot Yunho standing near the doorway. 

He’s changed out of his clothes, thankfully. But just seeing him is enough to flood your mind with the thought of the thing, your stomach lurching over again as he welcomes himself into the room, clearing his throat. 

Nayeon pats his shoulder as she walks past him, excusing herself. Yunho stops at the foot of your bed. 

You have to admit that he might be one of the last people you would have expected to visit you, now. You had been thinking it before everything happened, but you don’t really think he has any lost love for you, given your circumstances with Mingi. 

“Thank you,” you break the silence, forcing the words out before you can think better of them, “for, uhm, trying to help me. And, I mean, actually helping me, too.” You can’t forget that he had kept you standing when the sacrifice was presented. How ruined is his coat?

He awkwardly looks at his hands, which are gripping the rail at the end of your bed. “Don’t mention it.” His voice is so meager that you barely can hear him. 

Yunho doesn’t look up. You’re not sure what else to say. So you speak without thinking, again. “How’s Mingi?” 

He peeks up at you, but then goes right back to staring down. “He’s… uhm, well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” 

He pries his hands off of the rail, but then stares at them like he’s unsure that they’re even his hands. Tucking his hands behind his back, he continues, though he still doesn’t look straight at you, “I, uhm, yeah. Mingi is worried about you, and I think his worry came off the wrong way to you and San.” 

“Uh-huh,” you nod, slowly, and semi-sarcastically. You could’ve guessed that. “He has an interesting way of showing it.” 

Yunho takes a deep breath, “He doesn’t know that I’m here. I just thought that I would try and explain his side of things. From his perspective, he is the reason that you’re here and he feels guilty for that; but he’s also pissed that you’ve gotten close with San so quickly, because he doesn’t like him and he feels like you won’t take his concerns seriously.” 

“I don’t see what there is to be concerned about,” you plainly state, “do you have something against San, Yunho? Any reason at all to believe that Mingi could have reason to suspect that he’s not what he shows me?” 

Yunho startles when you say his name, like someone barely inhabiting their own body. “I mean, no. I think Mingi is probably just projecting his fear onto San, but don’t tell him I said that.” 

“Exactly. So why should I have to cater to Mingi’s ego?” The words sound harsh even as you say them, but its a genuine question. You don’t have much reason to believe that San would ever do anything to hurt you… besides him being someone that Hongjoong clearly trusts, but, like, you’ve been over that a million times before. 

Yunho just shrugs. “I don’t know. I just thought that maybe you would hear me out, since I know it’s hard for you to be alone with Mingi.” He stops his nervous fidgeting, finally looking directly at you. “I wasn’t nice to you because I harbor any sweetness towards you, for the record. I don’t even care that you’re the new object of Hongjoong’s affection. I only tried to help because I knew that, if I didn’t, Mingi would have.” His voice is harder than you’ve ever heard it; a shocking contrast to how he had been speaking just moments earlier. He maintains eye contact with you, his eyes dark. 

You’re the one to look away, this time, disturbed by what he said. What a very random and slightly disturbing thing to say. 

When you look back up at him, Yunho is already nervously looking around the room. His hands are in front of him again as he plays with his fingers. 

“Well,” you clear your throat, “thanks anyways, Yunho.” 

“Yep,” is all he says before leaving your room, basically running. 

… That was strange. Very strange. 

Nayeon doesn’t return. You’re left alone, puzzling over that entire interaction.

What… what was the point of that? Like, okay, sure you can get him wanting to try and vouch for Mingi. But… uhm??? The last part? What? Why was that so ominous? Huh? 

You had never known Yunho to be particularly timid… or… rude… This all is just very weird. Maybe even weirder than the fake demon situation. 

No, scratch that, definitely not any weirder than that. That one is gonna keep you awake for a while. A good while. But Yunho’s behavior was definitely not his usual, which is almost concerning. Almost… only because you suppose that you don’t really know him that well. Maybe he’s only really nice and outgoing to strangers… 

That wouldn’t make sense, either. 

Whatever, you really can’t be worrying about that right now. You have priorities. 

Priorities of which you would list, at least in your head, if San didn’t come barreling through the door the next moment. 

You startle, shocked by his sudden appearance. He’s changed, but he doesn’t look great. His hair is a mess, his lip is split, his shirt is untucked in places.

He reaches out for you, and you reach him halfway, grabbing his forearms as he grabs yours. Wordlessly, he looks over your face hastily, pressing his lips to yours before you can ask what happened. 

Your lips part, and he puts his forehead on yours. “We need to get out of here. As soon as possible.” 

← previous || next → || masterlist