#so I hope the right people find and enjoy it

[fairestwriting]

Hi! Hope you're doing well! I love your writing, I got so excited when I saw you're rqs were open!!!

Could i request dorm leaders w/reader who sang a break-up song while they're dating w/a happy ending? not for a performance or anything, just listening to music and singing along and a mob character passing by heard it. then suddenly there's rumors around the school saying their relationship is falling apart. the reader doesn't know. the boys don't realize that it a big misunderstanding and think that the reader might not be happy with their relationship and they desperately try to make it up to the reader.

Kind of like this one including malleus and azul https://www.tumblr.com/coralinnii/697097733985730560/singing-a-break-up-song-while-dating-feat

sry for rambling, i really love the way you write the characters, if it's too much, don't worry about! thank you!

fjfejf thank you i hope you enjoy your rq too <3 this one takes me back…. throwback sunday

(Also happy (late) valentines day everybody! i wanted to post that that on time for it but it got. so long

𐙚 Riddle Rosehearts

Ironically, you might have even shown him that song before. Riddle is pretty out of the loop, so he’s always curious about what you’re listening to. He never thought that your enjoyment of the song had anything to do with your relationship. It’s just a song, right? And at first, he thinks the exact same when the rumor arrives at him through Cater, chastising him for spreading such baseless claims.

…But it doesn’t take too long for it to get to him. And wasn’t that one of your most listened songs too? He can never remember the titles very well. His uncertainty feeds on the words of others until they make complete sense to him. If you were really happy, why would you be so obsessed with that specific song, after all? Riddle starts to pick apart his own actions, trying to find what could have made you so unhappy… And the truth is, everything is not only going well, but he probably mixed up the song from the rumor with an unrelated song you’re actually obsessed with. His entire issue is built around an impression that you’ve been secretly wallowing all this time, all due to some awful thing he’s supposedly done— Without even noticing how much he hurt you, no less.

Suddenly, when you spend time together, he’s awkwardly asking if you’re really sure that this or that is really okay, like he did when you just started dating. You ask him what’s wrong, and he quickly, awkwardly, blurts out that he heard the rumors, and he was trying to make up for his actions… And you’re just standing there, confused.

Luckily, Riddle has just enough common sense that saying his worries out loud makes him realize how frankly insane he sounds. And when he hears that he was, in fact, thinking of the wrong song, his whole face is as red as his hair. You might have to hold back some laughter as you comfort him… Despite the ridiculousness of the situation, it does feel sweet that he’s so eager to make you happy. Even if it means having to fix a huge problem he doesn’t quite understand.

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

There’s probably no shortage of rumors about your relationship. Good ones, bad ones, and a good few that were just weird— Leona says with his full chest that he thinks they’re all a waste of time, that it was just people being bored, or jealous, or both. He does wholly believe his own words. He also remembers every single thing he hears about you two.

Similar to Riddle, his initial reaction is that the rumor is just stupid. You listening to a song meant that you wanted to break up with him? Really? People must be running out of things to say, if they’re fixating on something so meaningless… And yet, he can’t keep himself from getting the urge to watch you more closely when you’re together.

Leona will die before he actually admits this rumor ever got to him, really. Even the people he overheard talking about it said it kind of seemed like a reach. He’s not about to start a conversation about it, or even openly express that some stupid bit of gossip had him so worried— But he still feels the need to watch. Do you get bored when you’re just sitting nearby while he’s supposedly sleeping? Do you look uncomfortable when he comes closer? Questions like that come up in his mind.

The answer, of course, is that you don’t. And that’s the end of it… or at least he wants to believe that. The rumor won’t come up unless you mention it, he just randomly comes off just a little softer than usual. It’d be hard for anyone to make the connection, surely Leona wouldn’t get that affected by something so silly, he said it was stupid himself. And yet, it’s still hard to miss how he visibly relaxes when you confirm that’s how you thought.

𐙚 Azul Ashengrotto

There’s all sorts of rumors going around about Azul himself, but they’re mostly just long debates on whether it’s worth getting involved with his deals or not. That’s easy enough to ignore when he has people coming in and out of the Lounge everyday. People who complain were just mad about the consequences they faced due to not reading the fineprint and all that.

This self awareness doesn’t help that much when the rumor comes to his attention, though. He’ll comment about how childish the people gossiping about you were to whoever tells him the news, but his words are hollow. Logic is already in the process of leaving his brain, entirely skipping over how ridiculous the whole thing was. It’s sudden enough to hit him with every mistake he might have made like a truck. The office door is slammed shut and locked so he go insane in peace. The thought of rumors themselves are what stands out the most. That had to be what drove you over the edge, right? Someone must have told you terrible things about him, and now you were miserable and confused and— And then he’s calling you, urgently asking for you to give him a chance to explain himself.

The whole “song” part of the rumor might as well not exist anymore. You ask him what this was all about, and he’s going on and on about how he swears whatever you heard about him wasn’t actually that bad and how he’s sorry that you’re getting caught up in all of this mess. You have no idea what it’s all about. It takes a bit of a back and forth for him to realize this. Then he’s just silent. And on instinct, as the realization hits him, he just hangs up, mortified.

You leave to go see him in person, worried or confused or amused or all of the above. You knock on his door, asking him what was up, what rumors he was talking about, he’s too embarrassed to answer for a bit. When he finally does, he looks at you so guiltily, you might even expect he’s about to make a serious confession— It does take a little effort not to giggle when he actually explains it. Insists to get you two some fancy dinner afterwards to make up for the “trouble”, no matter how much you insist you’re glad that it was just a misunderstanding.

𐙚 Kalim Al-Asim

Surprisingly, or maybe not, Kalim is actually quite used to people gossiping about him too. It doesn’t mean he’s the best at handling it, but even before deciding to work on becoming a more capable person, he was already a couple steps ahead from quite a few other people. Even compared to the other dorm leaders — or maybe, especially compared to them — he usually doesn’t have a very hard time ignoring what others say about him.

The first time he hears the rumor, it’s from a few Scarabia students whispering to each other in the corners of the dorm lounge. His first concern is calling out how rude it is to spread rumors about other people, and while he doesn’t have much of an aura of authority, people like him too much to not back off. He thought that was the end of it, and was almost succesful at fully ignoring the rumor, but he’s unlucky enough a particularly nasty someone catches on that it did bother him, despite it technically not showing on the outside.

And then it’s not just a problem, but a long running one. Because he doesn’t want to listen to people saying all those mean things about you! You’re always happy when you’re around him, there’s no way you’d be secretly holding a grudge over… what, really? You two don’t even fight! …That’s the sort of thing he’ll be telling himself, as time passes, and without him even fully processing the building anxiety, you start to wake up to… random gifts from your boyfriend, piled up at the door of your dorm room. How long had it been since you forgot about the song, when you reach the point of deciding to ask him what this was all about? Who knows. The gifts didn’t feel that odd at first, he just does that sometimes, but you were starting to run out of space, and Kalim was starting to act weird around you. So you bring it up… And he actually bursts into tears.

Poor guy, honestly. He’s a mess, saying he’s sorry, he didn’t know what else to do to make your not want to break up with him, all that. He’s saying he’ll let you go if that’s what you truly want when you interrupt him and ask what he’s even talking about, and he tearfully mentions he heard those rumors— That at this point might have even died down. You have to assure him it’s all just rumors for a while, and he tears up again, this time out of happiness. He’s not even going to think about how crazy it was that he got so deep into something that had no depth at all. He’s just too glad that you’re not upset.

𐙚 Vil Schoenheit

Vil’s initial reaction mostly depends on what sort of day he’s had. It’s harder to not overthink things when he’s already stressed — Not that he believes it in any case, it’s just unpleasant to hear either way. The whole thing sounds, frankly, just too shallow to truly hit him. How could anyone claim to know how you were feeling just because you liked this one specific song? How could they even confirm you actually liked that song at all, really… But people still talk about it, and that’s how it sticks to his thoughts.

He’s already dismissed the rumor itself, the question is whether it really came up out of nowhere or not. Maybe someone had noticed you were looking down, or you confided in a friend about relationship issues, and that’s what’s really behind all those flashy claims about the song — The idea makes him anxious. You two usually just talk it out if there’s an issue, so what could have happened? You’re caught off guard when he asks you out for lunch, just the two of you, right in the middle of the week because it’s the only time slot he has available.

You think maybe he just felt like doing something nice but still easygoing. So it definitely feels strange when he starts to speak up about how he’s aware he’s not perfect, but he’s willing to work on anything that might bother you, you realize he looks oddly serious for the situation—

You blink, telling him you knew that, but everything was fine. If anything was wrong, you would’ve just talked to him, like you always do. He stops on his tracks, suddenly feeling kind of silly. If it was anyone else, maybe he’d question if you really meant that, but you say it so easily it couldn’t not be the truth— Then you ask him if something is wrong, and he does his very best efforts to circumvent the topic, something about being told you were unhappy… You recall a friend bringing up the rumor to you, before that, and it feels hard to believe something so silly would get to him. It turns out to be a nice date anyway, though. Maybe something you could do more often?

𐙚 Idia Shroud

Honestly, even before he registers that all of this is over you enjoying a song, his brain is already going haywire. When it does hit that this was all over a song, though, he stops, and not because it’s all over a song. But instead because the gossip itself implied that you weren’t listening to it while wallowing by yourself— Then, right after, he wonders if that means things were even worse than they seemed. Did people know because you were telling your friends about it or something? The questions keep coming up, the logic getting more and more complicated inside his head…

Would it be better to check up on you? Straightforwardly ask if anything is wrong? There’s no way he could just do that, what would he do if it all turned out to be right, if you’ve been silently despising him this whole time? In the end, you don’t hear from Idia that day at all. Then Ortho calls you out of concer, not knowing what’s happening beyond the fact his brother is losing his mind. You can even hear him in the background, telling him to hang up.

…And after a day without any texts, and a call from Ortho that sounded like Idia might as well have been stabbed in his room, you rush over to his dorm. You hurry to check up on him, expecting something bad, and he’s actually shocked you’re worried about him. That you don’t outright hate him. Hearing that, you’re understandably confused.

Your reaction brings him back to reality a bit, prompting him to ask if he’s done anything wrong. You ask him what made him think that. He mentions something about a song. Music, of course, is the furthest thing from your mind right now, so you ask him which song— It soon becomes clear there’s been an insane misunderstanding. After relief hits, it’s a little awkward, and he’s apologizing for how crazy he must have looked. You’re just glad your boyfriend didn’t get jumped or anything like that. Details can be discussed later.

𐙚 Malleus Draconia

Malleus takes it all pretty seriously. You probably showed him the song yourself, since he gets curious about the music you like, and it did stand out to him that it’s breakup music— But he doesn’t consider that, by itself, a reason to worry. He’ll always believe your word over others, which is why it’s so confusing to him to hear that you were supposedly unhappy. And people were considering your taste in music as proof on top of it all? Would that mean that showing him the song was some sort of indirect message, then…?

It doesn’t feel in character for you, he thinks, but he doesn’t want to risk it. He does consider doing something to make up for his supposed mistakes, but since the topic of breaking up is on the table, he decides nothing could really be enough. And you were really so upset you were about to give up on him, he doesn’t know what he could do to make you feel better. In the end, he just decided to ask — right at the very next time he sees you, before saying anything else — why you wanted to break up with him.

”What”,you echo, and for a moment he wonders if you were really so resentful you were making fun of him, but that definitely doesn’t sound like something you’d do. He explains he heard people talk about it, saying he wanted to “hear your thoughts on the matter before believing anyone else”, that he was hoping to solve whatever the problem was. He’s so serious it stuns you, you tell him there aren’t any problems.

That confuses him. What did you mean when you showed him the song, then? Nothing, it turns out. You just liked the music. His worries dissipate soon after that, if you say it was all well, of course he’ll believe you. He does remind you to tell him if it’s not, because he doesn’t want that imagined scenario to become true at all, but he’s ready to just (very) gratefully set it all aside. Simple as that. Won’t get it if you seem to find the situation amusing, but won’t stop you from finding humor in it either.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[kitbunnyroo]

thinking about...abandoned android boyfriend....

lemme apologize from now...this is a looong one. it could be structured better, but it's literally just me updating this over the course of some hours/days (?). hope you enjoy this ridiculously long tidbit thooo! <3 (help y'all hit that 30 fast....tyyy!)

also omg thank you all for all the love on the centaur man post??? we love big strong bby fr, 100% will bring him back if y'all wanna see more of him 🤍🤍 (also, not proof read nothing i write is, so forgive any errors plsss)

like picture it, you just find him in a scrap yard cause your pet ran into it or something right...and you can tell that he's functioning, so you're confused as to why he got put for scrap? considering these things are crazy expensive, and the people who threw him out were ever so kind enough to leave all his original packaging, you took him back home.

it did take a while to get his station set up in a little corner, but it wasn't too bad, especially as you looked into the illuminated green eyes of the android who stood a good head or two taller than yourself once you figured out how to get him up and running again.

after you explained in even greater detail how he came to be in your possession, you could almost hear the mechanics in his brain recalibrating all the missed system updates as he now addressed you as master/mistress. not ideal, but who are you to complain once he fixes the drip in your sink that almost cost you hundreds of dollars. maybe having an android in your home wouldn't be so bad.

time flies and you come to find out he was scrapped cause beyond functionality, he had somehow developed a conscious of sorts. which when you think about it, anybody else would be freaked out by their machine suddenly smiling and showing human emotions. was it freaky? hell yeah. was it bad?....not so much.

there was lots of reassurance to be done...he thought that once he started to slip and his consciousness shone through again you'd dump him to be scrap metal too...well, after they remove the scarily realistic skin-like material that outlines his hardware. "So...you're not going to power me off and box me up like the last family did..?" he'd find himself asking after long conversations about how you don't really care he got more human-like as the days went on. living on your own it isn't that bad to feel like you have extremely helpful company rather than a machine in your empty halls. and when he looks at you oh so sweetly? how can you not tell him this is his home too.

android housemate, doing his best to make sure you're always happy. always stress free. always well taken care of. always healthy. always satisfied. so when he's cleaning your room and finds a vibrator, he's everything and appalled. why would you have this when he's right here? was he not good enough? did you not want him to help you? was it his fault? but he simply places it on it's charger and closes your door. when you get home that day you can tell something's off, it's the same air as the early stages when he thought you'd throw him out. so you just make sure to be extra sweet to your caring housemate.

android housemate, now doing research on human pleasure, watching porn, reading all sorts of articles and Quora forums. this seems easy enough to do...he just doesn't understand why you wouldn't ask him to help. darling android housemate realizing that his fans start to go double time when the pixels start to look like you instead of whoever is actually in the videos...even more so when he realizes that's what an imagination is like and that his is picturing himself with you in these videos...he wonders if that can happen....

yandere (???) android housemate who's suddenly gotten all clingy once you're home. as usual, dinner is hot and plated, desert already lined up, but as you shower you can hear him making the time to pick out your outfit from your drawers instead of double checking all is well in the rest of the house...odd, but you don't pay the particularly revealing choice of clothing much mind. dinner goes as usual, till he offers you a much more...inviting? smile after you tell him about your grievances of the day. his eyes never leaving you, even as you eat and he updates minor software...you ask if he can close the windows cause there's a much too warm of a breeze coming in, and he's suddenly glad he has the capabilities to hide the blush that threatened to rise to his fabricated cheeks since it was just his fans. he was getting a bit too much enjoyment from the sight of you wearing an outfit he had picked, enjoying his meals that he makes you everyday, you chose him from the scrap yard that he's convinced held many other androids...

yandere (??) android housemate that's gotten cold to you since you brought home another human and claim that they're your partner. he'd thought that he was being clear with his consecutive months of flirting since his research began, but apparently not clear enough. now he's forced to watch as you bring this human over, it is nice to hear you brag about how lovely he treats you though, especially when he sees them almost shrink where they sit, obviously he can already tell they won't be able to treat you better than your housemate. how could they? they're just a weak human, and he's an android that's learnt every last one of your tastes.

yandere (?) android housemate that's gotten over his chilly attitude in favour of comforting you after your breakup and every proceeding one from then on. on one hand he doesn't enjoy seeing you hurt, but on the other hand he knows the only one meant for you is him, so he'll continue to let these humans know that they won't ever hold a candle to him when it comes to your affections. you don't have to be in pain, you just have to realize he's the one for you. and you can go back to your blissful life.

yandere...android housemate who's worried after you stumble through the door after a work/college party, clearly intoxicated out of your mind. he effortlessly picks you up and takes you to your room, laying next to you when you refused to let him go cause his generated warmth was nice compared to the cold of the air conditioned room. he listens to you babble on about who knows what, and then about your latest break up, and then he's shocked when you blurt out that he'd make such a good boyfriend if he wasn't an android...and somehow, somewhere in his wiring, that hurt? but it also lit something cause you went on to praise all he does for you, especially highlighting his advances and he comes to the conclusion that you only started looking for a human partner because you had assumed that although he had a conscious, he couldn't feel romance. and boy was he now determined to prove you wrong.

yandere. android housemate, now doing everything possible after that night to display romantic affection. sensual massages after particularly aggravating days where his fingers work wonders to the tension coursing through your body, at first you don't think much of it, but when you feel the spikes of breeze specifically from him after every one of your moans, you try to keep your voice down. he downloads them to his software though, and is quickly researching the different modifications available for his kind.

yandere android housemate that gets tired of being referred to by his model name and demands you give him a proper one. and you do. and he loves it. thankfully, he's still linked to the cards of his previous family, so he can make purchases using their money instead of yours without suspicion. he gets his "personal" modification made under their card, leaves right after you do for school/work, and he's back before you're home, already getting things sorted for when you're back. now he just has to hide the tent that forms whenever you call him by the name you gave him....

newly named yandere android...you're not sure anymore. after walking in on him far too many times since you're used to him usually being smooth, but now he has an...enticing, length of dick just hanging between his legs now, it's kind of awkward. even more so when you find yourself outside his newly appointed bedroom to ask him to do something, and end up overhearing his whiney voice floating through the air. now you can't help but wonder how it feels if the rest of his skin feels like regular human skin...maybe an android boyfriend won't be so bad after all...

your android housemate, putting in extra work to keep you happy once he realizes you're not bringing home any more humans. even the vibrator and any other toys you might've had are stored away rather than readily available near your bed. maybe if he does a good enough job, you'll finally ask him for help. you swear you see a subtle throb in his pants sometimes when the thought runs through his not so little android brain.

your android boyfriend with fans so loud when you finally ask him to touch you, that you could've sworn you misread his intentions. but as soon as you try to back out of the situation he's pulled you against his chest with one of hands deeply entangled in you hair while the other hugs you close to him, if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was desperate for that moment...that and the fact that once you're finally in bed he takes initiative to slip under your blanket next to you instead of going to his own room, his hands finding their way snugly around your waist to cuddle you but surely making their way lower down, quicker when he realizes that not only are not trying to stop him, but you're basically leaning into his touch. the frenzy he goes into when you whisper his name that you gave him has your legs quivering on his shoulders, toes pointed every which way as those same illuminated eyes stay glued to your body, confusingly realistic tongue moving more enthusiastically with every sound you make.

your android boyfriend. who now takes any chance he can get to ask if he can fuck you. if his tongue game was this good...what else was he capable of? the thought barely has time to run across your mind because as soon as you agree he's gonna have you folded in half and stuffed full of the most realistic dildo you've ever felt. it didn't feel fabricated in the slightest. from the throb of the veins in your walls to the way it drags so fucking good inside of you, and he makes sure to study your body as he goes. this particular spot made your eyes roll? he's going right back there. you like having you sensitive bits teased while his balls are slapping your skin so hard you can hear them through the wet mess? he's abusing them. by the time he's done you've came enough times to lose count, and best believe he makes sure to endlessly thank and praise you through every bit of it. comments of how good you make him feel, the dimming of his eyes enough to let you know he really does feel it, thanking you for letting him be this close to you, begging you not to go when you try to squirm away from the overstimulation (he calms down a bit so you can catch yourself whenever it's really too much), not to mention the starved kisses he gives you whenever the position allows (all the time). he'll have your back against the wall and hold you up so the only place you can go is further onto his cock while his tongue finally gets to explore your mouth. you'd never believe an android could be so adorably vocal. the moans, the whimpers, the whines. (he can't bring himself to degrade you though, sorry </3)

your android boyfriend making sure he puts the utmost effort into after care. if you let him hit, he's sure to run you a shower or bath of your preference, and trust that when you're out he's already got you a freshly made meal with an accompanying drink. he always makes sure to ask if he was too rough with you, gently massaging your muscles while you relax after your meal. if there's anything, anything at all you desire, he already does it for you, but now he'll go the extra miles if it means you'll be even happier.

your android husband, proposed after years of taking you out on the most wonderful dates, planned more of the wedding than you did since he only wanted you to worry about looking your best, he does let you help if you want though <3. android husband who can't cry, but you almost swear you see him sobbing as you walk (or he walks if you'd prefer) down the aisle, the tears slowing down but never to a complete stop till it's finally time for the "I do"s. your android husband who takes you on a splendid honeymoon of nothing but relaxation, good sights and food, and even better sex. he knows he can't get you pregnant, but that doesn't mean he can't try extra hard once the topic of children roll around. if you do want children though, he's not against adoption (or a sperm donor once their background checks out)

(for his family he invited his previous family, who were surprisingly chill with him using their cards to fund your vacations and now wedding...talk about rich rich)

your android husband <333.

this totaled to 2,264 words (woah??), and i can NOT lie?? i like it. hope you enjoyed this terribly long read and tysm again for all the support like hello!!🤍✨

[thatfeelinwhenyou]

Omg??? Love, I didn’t think you meant a FULL on review??? Thank you so much for putting your time and effort into this! How do I even begin to reply, I’m actually overwhelmed right now 😭 and I don’t even know how to address you! Do you have a nickname you’re comfortable sharing with me?

I’ll try to reply to as many of these as I can and provide insights into my creative process!

YES! People or human beings are always going to be the world’s apex predators, dead or alive. And I might have mentioned this somewhere before, but I’ll just say it here too. Humans are very sentient beings, and I believe, when stripped down to nothing, are capable of anything. Especially in a lawless world, like the one they’re living in—there’s no consequence. There’s only life or death.

Regarding the point if she ever thought it was already too late. I definitely see where this perspective is coming from. It’s like she’s not just fighting the situation—she’s fighting herself, too. The urgency in "now" suggests she knows deep down that if she lingers even a second longer, she’ll lose the will to walk away entirely. For me when I wrote this, in my head, it’s less about just leaving but more about proving to herself that she can still leave, that she hasn’t lost all control. That’s why she’s running—not just from the situation, but from the hope that could betray her.

YES! The contradictions are a very huge part of this chapter. This is also exactly why I mentioned at the start to only read when you’re 100% awake, because it won’t make any sense unless you catch the contradiction of her internal struggles. In that sense, thank you for catching that nuance!

Funny BTS about how I write my stories, I actually brainstorm paragraphs/lines that I think would make great impact and build the scene around those lines. It’s not majority but a good number of the scenes you read in S&S are built off a singular line that I really want to include inside LOL

Exactly. It’s almost contradictory—why commit their faces to memory if you’re trying so hard to detach? But maybe that’s the cruel irony of it all. Leaving doesn’t mean you stop caring; it means you care too much and can’t afford to. And no matter how much she wants to shut it off, to disconnect, she’s still human. It’s like a silent promise that even if she’s walking away, she won’t pretend they never mattered. That their existence won’t just vanish with her absence. Even if she never sees them again, even if remembering them will haunt her. Because forgetting would mean it was all for nothing, and forgetting would mean she never cared, which is not true!!

The contradictions are to express her inner turmoil but also to make the readers question themselves too! I hope it made you question yourself HAHAHA

Yes, exactly. The fear outweighs everything else. Fear has a way of making choices for you before you even realise it. And it’s not just fear of dying or suffering. It’s the fear of what she might become if she stays. The fear that fighting for them will break her in a way she can never come back from. She sees it as a choice between them and herself, and that’s the cruelest part—because if she stays, she might win the battle for them but lose the war within herself. And if she leaves, she’ll carry the weight of it forever.

AAA thank you for appreciating the descriptions of that bus terminal scene where MC finds out about the whisperers. I actually spent an ungodly amount of time on that scene because I was fr struggling…

I don’t think she’ll ever truly understand herself, not completely at least. But I see it as she’s slowly accepting parts of herself, parts that Jungwon and the others completely embrace and love even if she herself doesn’t understand why.

Hehehe the whole conversation with Jay is also one of my favourite parts to write! I’m glad you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. Not gonna lie, sometimes I imagine conversations in my head between the characters. I could be doing literally anything, and I would drop whatever I was doing just to write it down before I forget LOL

In Park Jongseong’s wisdom we trust!!! That whole “Anger, fuelled by hope, becomes determination” bit actually came to my head while I was lying in bed trying to fall asleep. I sat up immediately, opened my Notes app and went crazy. Not to toot my own horn, but I pat myself on the back for that.

Fun fact: the word ‘Hope’ was mentioned 69 times in part 5 alone!

Growing up I read a lot of fiction novels and I always loved how I was able to immerse myself in the world beyond the paragraphs. One of my favourite books that does that for me is Delirium by Lauren Oliver and also every book Suzanne Colins has ever released. So to think I’d be able to do that with my writing is surreal. Thank you <3

About using Sunoo as a hostage. I DON’T KNOW HOW IT CAME TO THAT. It’s not any selective process. I just used Sunoo because he was the one in-charge of taking stock and rations within the group. And thus, is most likely to encounter the lady in the basement 😅

YES!! There’s a line in the part that went “And yet, you left them here. With her.” I don’t even want to begin to imagine how shit will go down if MC wasn’t there with them to mitigate the situation.

I absolutely hate when female main characters are written as useless and needy of a man to solve their problems (of course depending on context). So, that is something I was sure I didn’t want her to be when I wrote her character. That’s why her backstory of surviving alone is so important! It’s because she’s used to surviving alone that she’s instinctively coming up with solutions to solve her own problems rather than waiting around for someone else to come along and solve it for her.

To me, Jake is extra sensitive about killing people because his job is to save them instead! That’s also why he doesn’t see eye-to-eye with Jay—it’s a conflict of interest. But that doesn’t make them love each other any less 🥹🫶

I think a part of why Jungwon is able to know her so well is because he sees himself in her. You know that feeling when you meet someone and you click instantly? Yeah. Jungwon is observant by nature, and so is the MC from her experience in surviving alone. You may notice throughout the entire story that the MC always notices when he’s calculating in his mind. And that’s because they’re always thinking; thoughts always spiraling with the what ifs and what not. And that’s how he knows her so well.

 I need me a Jungwon, ACTUALLY.

“Not only does she make him feel normal and has given hope to the others. All of them have given her something she never thought she would get back—or more like she never wanted it back, because of the fear of getting left behind, or just watching them lose themselves, or straight up lose them—a team.” Took the words straight out of my mouth. I love you, let me give you a kiss 😙

“yes, they did do a lot of damage for the people in there. But they’re doing what it takes to survive.” In my mind, they care so much that they'd do anything to keep the people they love alive. And that's the thing—because when they realise that the collateral damage are strangers who probably have people they care and have people care about them and would do anything to keep them alive, but failed. It fucks with their mind, and it only fucks with their mind because they care. It's fucked up. Also “Crazy lady Kim” IM CTFUUUUU

Okay that’s everything! I know it’s ridiculously long but I wanted to give you back the energy you gave me! Thank you so much for the encouragement and willingness to wait patiently for the next chapter! Work has been picking up for me so it’s harder to find time to actually sit down and write, but it’s because of readers like you that keeps authors like me motivated! So, once again, thank you for this! ❤️

Love, Nat

SAFE & SOUND — part 5

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

word count: 23.7k

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

MASTERLIST

People.

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

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

But now you understand something even more unsettling.

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

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

And that’s what makes him dangerous.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that’s exactly what you’ll do.

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

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

And hope is stupid.

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

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

And you have something to lose.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not to them. Not to hope.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then it’s just Jungwon.

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

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

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

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

And you know. It’s time.

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

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

Freedom.

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

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

“Y/N.”

You freeze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hope.

Not that damned hope again.

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

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

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

But you never did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His next words strike harder than anything else.

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

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

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

Everything.

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

But here? Here, you care.

And walking away makes you a monster.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—I didn’t mean it that way—”

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

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

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

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

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

But you don’t move.

“You’re the greatest loss, Jungwon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, something is off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s sickeningly methodical. Choreographed chaos.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s him. The guy Jay went after.

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

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

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

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

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

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

They’re moving the horde. 

Towards you. Towards Jungwon. Towards all of them.

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

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

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

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

And that’s exactly why you left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They’re actually going to die.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because saving them is saving yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you see him.

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

He didn’t tell them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The ripple of confusion is immediate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then Jungwon turns to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So why does it feel so wrong?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This morning, you left, didn’t you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You want to deny. You really really want to.

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

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

“That includes each other.”

The lump in your throat grows tighter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not unless you do something.

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

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

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

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

In the end, you chose hope. 

And hope guided you back to them.

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

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

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

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

The horde is too big.

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

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

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

It’s a losing battle.

You know it. They must know it too.

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

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

But they’re trying anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re already counting heads.

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

Your stomach twists.

Where’s Sunoo?

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

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

The world around you stills.

Your breath catches.

Sunoo.

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

Your worst fears are confirmed.

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

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

She’s inside the rest stop. How?

Then it hits you.

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

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

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

The woman doesn’t even spare him a glance.

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

And then she starts counting.

"Ten."

Your gaze flicks to Jay.

What should we do?

"Nine."

Jay’s jaw tightens.

Let’s wait it out.

"Eight."

Your stomach knots.

And what if she shoots him?

"Seven."

Jay exhales sharply, weighing the risk.

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

"Six."

Your fingers twitch at your sides.

She’s bluffing.

"Five. I’m really going to do it."

Your breath catches.

She’s not bluffing.

"Four."

Jay hesitates.

She has nothing to lose.

"Three—"

“Alright, we’re coming out.”

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

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

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

She can’t know that.

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

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

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

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

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

But it’s enough.

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

A stump.

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

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

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

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

“Hey, I know you.”

It’s Jake.

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

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

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

His words send a ripple of confusion through the group.

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

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

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

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

Jake doesn’t react, his expression carefully guarded.

And then her smirk disappears altogether.

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

A chill settles over the group.

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

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

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

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

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

“What excuse do they have?”

No one answers.

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

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

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

It lingers.

Your breath stills.

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

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

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

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

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

Sanctuary. The word makes your stomach churn.

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

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

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

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

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

Silence.

Then, her smirk fades, replaced with something colder. 

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

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

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

She’s right.

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

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

But they might as well have.

It’s a sickening realisation.

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re no different from The Future.”

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

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

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

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

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

The belief that they’re different.

That they’re good.

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

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

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

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

They’re breaking.

She sees it.

And she revels in it.

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

You need to stop this. Now.

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

Her fingers twitch.

Good.

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

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

A flicker of something shifts through the group.

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

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

Then, she speaks.

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

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

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

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

Because she’s right. They all know it.

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

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

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

There’s only one answer.

Whoever wins.

The only law that exists now is power.

Not justice. Not fairness. Not mercy.

Just power.

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

Survival of the fittest.

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

Because before, losing meant failure.

Now? It means death.

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

You’ll lose.

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

Because nothing from before matters anymore.

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

Because the past won’t save you.

Only the future will.

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

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

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

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

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

Never come back here again…

Soon be one of us…?

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

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

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

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

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

Why? 

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

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

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

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

So they ran.

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

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

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

Your fingers tighten into fists.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This place can be yours.

They don’t have to run anymore.

Hope is starting to take root.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As if she’s the one in control.

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

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

"You’ll understand what I mean soon."

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

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

You can’t look away.

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

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

You’ve already begun losing yourself.

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

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

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

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “Sunoo.”

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

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

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

And yet, you left them here. With her.

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

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

“Y/N.”

Jungwon.

“Are you okay?”

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

He still cares.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They stare at you.

Realisation dawns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wonder if he still feels that way about you.

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

You’re staring at him too.

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

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

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

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

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

But he doesn’t. 

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

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

The silence that follows is deafening. 

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

And the worst part?

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

But now?

Now, you know.

You would have done the same.

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

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

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

No one even breathes.

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

But Jungwon is quiet.

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

And that’s almost worse. 

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

He’s thinking.

Not just about the plan. Not just about them.

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

No.

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

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

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

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

Something like him.

And for the first time, you see it too.

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

He knows it. You know it.

But neither of you say it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is it. 

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

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

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

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

Move. Breathe. Don’t think. 

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

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

"Y/N, let’s talk."

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

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

Jungwon opens his mouth first. "I—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so you do.

Your eyes drift down to the group below.

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

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

Determination.

Resolve.

Hope—

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

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

"And you gave that to them."

His words knock the breath from your lungs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your blood runs cold.

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

Your breath hitches. "Jay?"

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

A weight settles in your chest, heavy and unrelenting.

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

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

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

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

He wasn’t just talking about them.

He was talking about himself.

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

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

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

"Now you do."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You weren’t breaking him.

You were keeping him together.

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

You made him feel normal.

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

Just Jungwon.

And maybe you needed him for the same reasons.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe it means you’re still human after all.

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

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

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

This time, you won’t step away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, without thinking, you move closer.

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

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

So you make the choice for him.

You fall into him.

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

And you let him.

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

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

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

This is enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And somehow, it feels lighter.

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

part 4 - blood | masterlist | part 5 - dusk

♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

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

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[canarias-stuff]

By Your Side

Sung Jin-Woo X F!Reader

Summary:

You never asked to awake as a hunter, an A-Rank hunter nonetheless. You were pretty athletic and quick witted, but you had always hated fighting.

You wanted to live a normal life, one where you were just a teacher for a bunch of high schoolers. So yes, a lot of people criticize you after finding out that you were a high ranked mage who decided against entering dungeons – against fighting for society.

However, you are glad that you never gave a damn about people’s opinions about your life and didn’t change your mind, because now, facing this B, maybe A-rank monsters, you were sure that you made the right choice by not accepting the offers from the guilds back then.

…

Or, a story where you are a teacher at Sung Jin-Ah' school, when the dungeon break started inside the building.

(Spoilers from chapter 117 onwards)

(Sung Jin-Woo X F!Reader)

Author's note:

Hello everyone!

Anyway, the thing is, I nedded to write something, and I decided to use the dungeon break that happens inside Jin-Ah's high school.

So, I am new to the fandom! I finished the manhwa a few days ago and just catch up with the anime.

How can I person become so obsessed in just a few days???

Hellooo? Sung Jin-Woo? What the heel did you do?

I hope you enjoy!^^

You never asked to awake as a hunter, an A-Rank hunter nonetheless. You were pretty athletic and quick witted, but you had always hated fighting.

Scouts from various guilds reached you after your evaluation, asking you to join them, but you politely declined all offers saying that you already had something in mind. They all probably thought that you were waiting for a specific guild to contact you, but the truth was that… 

“I want to be a teacher.” You told the chairman of Hunters Association, when he asked to have a meeting.

“Is that so?” The chairman, Go Gun-Hee, smiled understandingly at you.

“I…I know that people will judge me for my choice, but I have my reasons.”

“It’s okay, I won’t force you, Miss (L/n). I just want to let you know that there will always be a place for you here too, if you ever change your mind.”

This time you smiled.

“Thank you, but I don’t think that I will change my mind.”

You wanted to live a normal life, one where you were just a teacher for a bunch of high schoolers. So yes, a lot of people criticize you after finding out that you were a high ranked mage who decided against entering dungeons – against fighting for society.

“Don’t listen to them, (Y/n) Unnie!” Jin-Ah exclaimed once, when you told the young girl what had been happening around you. “You can do whatever you like! Who are these people to judge what you want, anyway?!”

“I mean…it’s just irritating…” You sighed. “Is it so wrong of me to want to be something that’s not a hunter?”

A hand patted your head, and you turned your head to look at your sweet boyfriend, who gave you an encouraging smile.

“No, you are not wrong.” Jin-Woo said, his voice calm and soft as always. “As long as this is the path that you decide for yourself, (Y/n).”

Your chest felt warm hearing those words, and you couldn’t hold back the small smile and the laugh that escaped your lips. 

“Thank you.” You muttered, before kissing his cheek.

“Woah! Big words from someone who always lands at the hospital, Mister E-rank hunter…” Jin-Ah interrupted, provoking her older brother, who just rolled his eyes.

But of course, that was a conversation before Jin-Woo reawakened anyway.

However, you are glad that you never gave a damn about people’s opinions about your life and didn’t change your mind, because now, facing this B, maybe A-rank monsters, you were sure that you made the right choice by not accepting the offers.

People were screaming, the sound of doors and windows being broken were echoing around the whole school. The walls and floor were painted red – red with blood, the blood of your precious students –, and you hated that you couldn’t help everyone.

It was definitely a dungeon break, and of all places, it had to happen inside the school, a building holding more than 300 students.

You knew that some of them escaped, it was lunch break and a lot of students were probably having lunch outside when the problem started, but still, there were a lot still inside the classrooms, cafeteria and halls…and now…most of them were probably…

The green monster – an orc, if you remembered correctly – swung the ax towards you, and you blocked it with the sword that you had inside your space magic inventory.

Mages usually were the ones supporting a party from behind, but once depleted of mana, they were just like any other normal human, unable to protect themselves. But you never liked the idea of being helpless, so twice a week you trained kumdo under the supervision of Song Chi-Yu, who also awakened as a mage, but never left behind the martial arts.

You jumped, leaving some distance between you and the orc, and when it charged in your direction, you deflected the ax, using it as a step stone, and swung your sword, cutting off the monster head.

“Go! Go inside the classroom!” You yelled at some of your students who were still in the hall. “Put the tables and chairs at the door and make a barricade! I'm gonna buy you as much time as I can!”

You knew that it was useless, it was only you – an A-rank hunter without experience – against a crowd of orcs. These monsters would go through any barricade in just a second, but right now, any second that you could buy for these kids was precious.

“(Y/n) unnie!” Jin-Ah yelled by the door, when another orc came in your direction.

This time you used magic, an ice shard appeared in your hands, and at the next second it was stuck in the head of the orc, who fell lifeless to the ground.

“I said: Go inside, Jin-Ah!” You yelled again, eyes never leaving the opposite side of the hall, where more monsters were coming from.

“BUT!”

“This is an order from your teacher ! Go inside!”

“Come on, Jin-Ah!” Song-Yi pulled her friend inside and closed the door, making you sighed relieved that someone was there for the girl who you saw as your own sister.

Now…

There were a lot of monsters coming, and fighting in such a narrow space was difficult enough against only one orc, if they cornered you, it was game over. You didn’t have other choice.

The air in the hall got cold, ice shards started to appear around you…

I need to reduce the number of monsters, no matter what.

…and then a shadow, a black and blue shadow in the form of a bear suddenly showed up.

“...Tusk…?” You muttered, (e/c) eyes wide with surprise.

The bear was smaller than you remembered, but it probably adapted its size to fit in the hall.

“Hah…” You almost laughed.

Your boyfriend surely was the best.

“Let's go, Tusk!”

…

You were panting – tired of averting attacks and almost out of mana –, your vision was starting to swirl, black dots appearing here and there, and to make things worse, you were probably suffering from blood loss from the cut on your back.

Tusk was a great help, but everytime that it got destroyed, it took a few moments to come back, and that was a disadvantage for your side.

How many orcs did you and Tusk kill anyway? You didn’t know anymore, and it’s not like you were counting, but didn’t it have an end? No matter how many you pierced with ice shards or cut with your sword, those damn monsters keep coming.

You just took your eyes from the monsters for a second, just a second, and then, you were being thrown through the door of the classroom that you were trying to block. Your students yelled your name, when you hit the floor coughing and trying to pull some air in your lungs at the same time.

Jin-Ah came in your direction and helped you up, and then you felt how her hands were trembling. There was no need to look behind you to know that not only Jin-Ah, but all students, were more than terrified right now.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down your panicking heart. Nothing good would come if you lose to your own anxiety.

“Stay behind me.” You muttered, pushing the girl to the back of the classroom.

You were all surrounded, and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold against the orcs. How long has it been since this horror movie started? Where was the Hunter Association? Where was the cavalry?

Two monsters charged, and you cut an arm of one with your sword, while Tusk bit the head of the other one, but you didn’t have time to block the punch that came from another orc that came inside the room.

It hurted like hell – and you were sure that you had a broken rib or two –, however you didn’t have the time to stop, those creatures were going for your students. 

“I’m right here, bastards!” You yelled, using your weapon to stand up, and sending ice shards immediately, piercing the monsters’ heads. “Don’t you dare lay a finger on my students!”

You crossed the classroom with an agility that you didn’t know you possessed – adrenaline , you thought – and cut the opponents as best as you could considering that your body was screaming in pain. 

Then the thing that scared you the most happened. One orc passed through you and Tusk, and raised the weapon at Jin-Ah’s direction.

No! No! No!

“JIN-AH!”

Suddenly, a red arm shot up from the shadows, grabbing the orc’s arm.

For a second you thought that you would pass out of relief, because of course your boyfriend would leave a guard, ‘ No, three guards.’ – you thought as other 2 red orcs appeared – for his baby sister.

“You could have shown up earlier!”

The red high orc looked at you with a confused expression before punching the enemy through the roof.

…

With Tusk and the three high orcs' help, you thought that now you may have a chance to win and leave this situation, but then, a new figure came around the corner, bigger and more intimidating than the others.

You instinctively knew that he was the boss.

Great, just great.

It yelled and pointed the weapon that it was caring at you, and really, people didn’t have to understand monster language to know what it was saying.

He wanted you dead.

“Don’t worry, the feeling is mutual.” You said sarcastically, as a few ice shards flew at the boss's direction.

But well, a boss was a boss at the end of the day.

The shards fell to the ground, small pieces of ice scattered all around the floor.

That’s bad.

Even if you were a newbie – no experience at all –, if you had to fight just the boss, you may have stood a chance. However, after who knows how long killing and almost being killed by its minions, you were exhausted and now completely out of mana, that attack was the last one you could conjure.

With hands trembling, you pointed the sword at the boss, but one of Jin-Woo high orcs pushed you to the side, shaking it head, as if telling you to take a break.

Before you could say a word of protest, Jin-Ah and Song-Yi grabbed your arms and pulled you at the back of the class.

“Stop (Y/n) unnie.” Jin-ah’s voice was weak, tears threatening to fall any moment as she checked your injuries. “Stay here, please…”

You didn’t dare to speak – you didn’t even know if you had the strength to – so you just patted the girl’s head and hugged her with your other arm, (e/c) eyes never leaving the dungeon boss, who was yelling something at the direction of Jin-Woo’s shadows.

The green orcs attacked together this time, slashing the shadow soldiers with fury, never giving them a chance to regenerate. And when you least expected, the boss approached you and your students while the shadows were occupied with its soldiers.

Pushing Jin-Ah to Song-Yi, you immediately blocked the boss sword with your own.

What a brutal attack!

The sword felt impossibly heavy – or maybe the boss was just too strong. Or both. There was no way to tell. Your arms and back screamed in pain as the floor cracked beneath your feet, buckling under the pressure of the attack.

The boss was yelling again, red eyes not even looking at you, but at Jin-Ah.

You gritted your teeth – anger consuming your being – and pushed with all your strength the enemy's weapon, making him take a step back.

“Where are you looking at, your piece of shit?!” The insult left your mouth so naturally that you almost felt proud. If Jin-Woo was here, he would probably be surprised, but would still laugh at your words. The situation was fitting after all. “Your opponent is me!”

The boss growled at you, an animalistic sound that made you and all your students flinch, before it charged at you again – this time, it was looking properly at you.

So now, I am considered an enemy.

You leap to the side, narrowly dodging the attack, and raise your sword to strike –but the boss catches it, halting your movements. Before you can react, he swings his weapon at you once more. You didn’t have time to think, you let go of your sword and threw yourself to the ground to avoid the blade that would have cut you in half – the monster grunted loudly, probably irritated that you avoided certain death and crushed your sword using just his bare hands.

The students gasped horrified at the demonstration of strength, if the boss could break an A-Rank weapon with bare hands, they (and also you), didn’t want to think about what could happen if he got his hands on any of you.

Conjuring a second (and last) weapon from your magic space inventory – a dagger of all things –, you stared at the monster, analyzing its movements and waiting for an opening.

You never saw Jin-Woo fighting, but you knew that his chosen weapon was a dagger, if not, you were sure that he was just punching monsters inside the dungeons, however, one thing that you learned from him when fighting with a dagger, was that everything was a matter of timing.

“It doesn't matter if the opponent is a monster or a human.” Jin-Woo said once, while the two of you were preparing dinner. “There’s always an opening, an opportunity to strike.”

“Andddd you are telling me this because…?” You joked, pushing him with your hips.

“Well, you never know when you will need the knowledge.” He answered with a shrug.

I’m glad that I listened to his battle’s advice.

You didn’t have another choice if not dodge the attacks for now, you couldn’t risk breaking your dagger trying to stop the sword. You were smaller and faster than the boss, you need to use it in your favour.

An opening, you just need an opening. One second was enough.

And as if your prayers were heard, the boss slammed the sword in the ground trying to beat you, resulting in the sword getting stuck on the floor.

That’s my chance!

You charged at the dungeon boss, his right side open for an attack, all you needed to do was strike it on the neck and things would be over.

But you were naive.

“Ah, but remember that the higher the rank, the more intelligent they are, be it people or monsters.” Your black haired boyfriend warned.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that not everyone plays fair.”

The monster smirked – Was that even possible? But it did look smug! – and when you realized what was happening, it was too late. You barely had the time to block the sword that surely wasn’t stuck at the floor at all.

You were sent flying, back at the hall, where you hit the already damaged walls. The air left your lungs, and for a second everything went black. Your body hit the floor, and the dagger that you were holding fell from your hands, you didn’t have the energy to hold it or to get up anymore. Something warm was running down your face, and the strong smell of iron invaded your nostrils. 

You were bleeding…

Hah…great…

…and probably had a concussion.

Double great.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to focus, trying to make the world stop spinning, trying to hold back the urge to vomit, trying to regain any leftover energy to stand up, because you could hear your students screaming your name at the top of their lungs.

They need you.

Jin-Ah needed you.

Tears of frustration started to form in your eyes, no matter how much you were forcing your body to get up, it wasn’t responding to your wants.

Another scream, Song-Yi was screaming Jin-Ah’s name.

Please, please, get up!

But your legs and arms weren’t moving.

Get up! Get up!

From where you were, you couldn’t see what was happening inside the classroom, so your stupid brain was painting the worst scenarios.

Silence.

Oh God…please, no…

Suddenly the boss yelled, and at the same time you felt a big source of magic power approaching.

The whole building trembled, pieces of the roof falling to the ground. There was smoke coming from inside the classroom, and among the sounds coming from there, you heard his voice.

“You’re safe now.”

You wanted to cry, he came. Jin-Woo really came. And he arrived, shutting up the damn monsters.

“It’s alright now.”

“Oppa!”

Jin-Ah’s voice made you release a breath that you didn’t even realize that you were holding.

She is okay. Jin-Ah is safe.

“I’m sorry, I’m late…”

No…you’re not. You thought, closing your eyes.

“Is everyone okay?” He asked, and you were glad to hear your students' voices. “Where is (Y/n)?”

“In the hall! (Y/n) unnie, s-she's in the hall! T-That monster, it attacked her!”

The magical power in the air seemed to disappear for a moment, and then it came back with almost the double of force, it was so intense that you could feel it almost crushing you.

“Igris…take care of Jin-Ah.” His voice was controlled, and you knew that he was barely holding back his anger. “Everyone else, take the students and head down first.”

And now you could finally let your body relax. Jin-Woo would take care of things from here. You didn’t need to worry anymore.

Maybe the relief was so big that you lost consciousness for a moment, because when you realized what was happening again, you could see your boyfriend pressing the stupid dungeon boss on the wall by the neck.

Hah…

“Serves…you right…” You muttered, a smirk on your lips as you saw the desperate look on the orc’s face. The face of someone who was facing death itself.

Jin-Woo immediately made eye contact with you, his beautiful gray eyes getting wide as soon as he accessed your wounds, at least the visible ones.

“Thanks for coming…” You tried to smile, but no smile would make your boyfriend less worried now. And it was your impression, or it was getting hard to breathe? Did a rib punctured your lungs?

“(Y/n)...” It was so good to hear your name, even if it sounded strangled.

“Hey babe…” You greeted, coughing blood as soon as the words left your lips. You saw Jin-Woo make a move to let go of the orc, but you glared at him, daring your boyfriend to abandon his duty as a S-Rank to help her. “Don’t you dare let go of this bastard.”

“I need to treat you now.” He said, voice serious, but still stayed where he was.

You grunted, you couldn’t move a finger, so yes, maybe you were in need of medical attention, but looking around and seeing the…blood trail that the orcs left behind, you couldn’t care less about your condition.

“If you let go of this piece of shit…I’m going to break up with you, got it?!” 

Who would have thought that mere words would make one of the strongest hunters in the world flinch?

“This is not the time to jok-”

“Because of this guy, my students are…they are…” You couldn’t say that word, and it made you more angry. “If you don’t want to be single by the next minute Sung Jin-Woo, do me a favor and give that…” You glared at the boss dungeon. “...hell.”

And with those words, you use all your energy. You heard your boyfriend call your name, but the world went black before you could mutter another word.

At least now, everything would be okay.

…

When you woke up, the white ceiling of a hospital room was staring back at you. The room was bright, the smell of antiseptic was pretty strong and you could hear the beeps of a heart monitor – your heart monitor, you were alive. There was also an IV drip on your arm – with (probably) a lot of pain killer –, and someone was holding your hand.

“Good morning.”

As you looked up, you were greeted by the expression of relief from your boyfriend.

“How are you feeling, (Y/n)?”

Like shit. You wanted to say, but you decided to entertain him.

“Like a truck just ran over me, and came back on reverse.” You answered. “Did you get the plate? I want to press charges.”

Jin-Woo arched an eyebrow, amused by your choice of words.

“Don’t worry, I already took care of it.”

You smiled and closed your eyes again, letting a relieved sigh escape your lips. It was really over.

“How is Jin-Ah? How are all the students?”

Jin-Woo seemed to stop to think for a moment, as if pondering what to say.

“And don’t lie.” You added.

“Jin-Ah is in this hospital as well, with a few bruises, but she is going to be okay, just like the other students that you saved.”

“Any other…survivors?” You asked, but Jin-Woo just closed his eyes and shook his head. “...Dammit…”

“You did what you could.” He interjected immediately, silencing the negative thoughts creeping into your mourning mind. “You’re not even a hunter, yet you stood your ground against A-Rank monsters alone. You should be proud, because without you, Jin-Ah and the others might not have made it out alive.”

There were a few tears ready to fall from your eyes, you were frustrated, angry and so sad, but somewhere in your brain, you knew that what your boyfriend was saying was also true. In the end you did what was possible in that situation, and you saved a few lives. So instead of using words, you just nodded, to let the man know that you understand what he was saying.

“But you really gave me a scare back there.” Jin-Woo said, his grip on your hand tightening. “Passing out after threatening to break up with me.”

You couldn’t hold back a snort. What kind of nonsense was this guy sputtering now? Drying the tears with the back of your other hand, you opened your eyes to take a look at the man beside your hospital bed.

“So, which one was scarier? Me passing out or the threat?”

“Both.” He deadpanned, but you knew that he was trying to light up the mood.

For a few moments you two didn’t say anything, but you knew that you needed to tell him a few things, for your and his well being.

“I…I’m sorry for scaring you.” You finally say, looking at his gray eyes. When he didn’t say a word, you decided to continue. “But back there, I was…I was so mad at that damn monster, at the whole situation, that I wanted you to end it before trying to come to me.”

“I know.” The man muttered, his thumb tracing circle patterns at the back of your hand.

“But next time, I promise to not threaten you.”

He frowned.

“There won’t be a next time.”

You smiled.

“I know, but even if it did happen, you would come again, I’m sure.”

“Of course.” He said, flicking your forehead. “Stupid.”

“Hey! What was that for?!” You exclaimed, with a hand massaging the place where you were hit.

“I’m glad that you are looking out for other people, but you should also take care of yourself!”

“It’s not like I didn’t try…” You muttered, because it was true. Who in their right mind would want to be at the brink of death?

“Try harder!”

“Says the guy who jumped inside gates as if going on a walk in the park before reawakening!”

This time Jin-Woo blushed embarrassed.

“T-this and that are different!”

“How so?!” You questioned, holding back a laugh. Your boyfriend was just too cute to mess with.

He sighed, before putting a hand on your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. You leaned into the touch, closing your eyes, enjoying the quiet moment.

“Thank you for coming.” You muttered, happy with his strong and comforting presence beside you.

“You’re welcome.” Came the answer, way closer than you expected.

When you opened your eyes, you saw gray. They were staring at you intensely, trying to confirm if you were really there, if you were really okay, if you were really alive.

“I’m here.” You say.

“Yes, you are.” He answers.

And his lips met yours, as if confirming what his eyes were trying to tell him.

You were still here, by his side.

And he was there, by yours.

Ao3 link

End notes:

Wellll, first: English is not my mother tongue, so you may find some grammar (or spelling) errors…^^'' I promise to correct them as soon as I spot them.^^

And second: I know that I changed some things - it was necessary since Reader was there -, but still, I hope that you enjoyed the scenario.^^

Thank you guys for reading!^^

See you!

[cherie-doll]

hear me out.. cod men with a loser male reader boyfriend.. like reader never goes outside, doesn’t do but sit and play video games for hours has poor social skills and probably smells bad but they still love him regardless.. totally nto self projecting!! hehe!!! >_<

i think you called everyone out w/ this one xd

( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

☆ Price doesn't understand what the term 'losercore' means and only describes you as a quiet man when asked about you. He may not be able to relate to you in that way a whole lot, but what he looks forward to when he comes back home is finding you there waiting for him. He knows you almost never leave the house which is sort of a comfort for him when all he wants to do is to hold you, and he's always certain you're there.

★ Ghost loves that you hate going out. He doesn't care if you believe you truly are a loser because you've just bought another video game after getting bored of all your other ones. You're his loser and that's all that matters. Honestly, between you and him, I don't think there would be a single word spoken throughout the entire day. You've been sitting in front of your pc all day and he's been switching between napping and going on his phone. Talk about spending quality time with your partner.

☆ Soap is the opposite of everything you are. He isn't quiet, at all, there is nothing subtle nor discreet about him. Yet, there was something about you that he found charming. Under that messy, unbrushed hair that covered tired eyes and dark eyebags, he was into that. Maybe it was your slow, deliberate manner of talking whenever you were forced to talk to people that had him hypnotized. Despite you being so tired from staying up all night trying to speedrun a game, your sleepy voice sounds oddly attractive to him.

★ Gaz is the pretty boy you've had your eyes on for a while. But how does a loser get their crush to notice them? You had resigned to just observing him, your heart beating softly within your chest whenever he walked by. Even though you were considered opposites in some ways, it's sort of what pulled him to you; like a magnet. It started out with small things, him gently tugging on your shirt, your eyes travelling down to where his fingers were pulling. What you weren't aware of, is that he was silently watching your reactions, his lips curling up in a smile.

☆ Roach understands the not wanting to socialize much part. He himself isn't the best with his social skills but didn't think he'd meet someone more introverted than himself until he saw you. When he noticed you, he knew right away you were someone he wanted to get close to, he just didn't know how. And with both of you being hesitant to approach others first, it took a lot of circling hoping the other would take the first bold step. Eventually, he just sent you a friend request online and that's how y'all started talking. Now, you two can just be in the same room together, not having to talk but instead slipping into a comfortable silence and enjoying one another's company.

★ Alejandro will always tease you a lot whenever you do decide to come out of your room. You always look so out of place stepping into the bright living room where he's drawn the curtains aside, opened the windows to let fresh air in and you're standing there in your pajamas, wet hair from having just taken a shower, blinking trying to get your eyes adjusted to the sudden change in lighting. You just came out of your cave because you recognized the smell of something good cooking in the kitchen.

☆ Rudy is lowkey down bad for you. Even you are confused as to how he's into someone who can't speak coherently when you really do want to respond back to him. If it weren't for him, every surface of your room would be filled to the brim with old cups and dishes with leftover food. And you don't know how to react to his affection or acts of love, you've never had anyone pining over you. Still, you have your own little ways of showing you love him even if you can't say it. Like burying your face into his neck when you feel bored, like you're sick of just sitting around, none of your comics are interesting but you're not desperate enough to go outside so you've only got your boyfriend to comfort you.

★ Phillip would LOVE someone he can provide for and do things for. So, you two are perfect for one another. He doesn't ever have to worry about keeping track of your location when you go out because you don't leave the house. Don't ever think of getting a job because he much rather prefers to find you home on his days off. The only thing he "struggles" with is when you act like your little games are a lot more interesting than him. He'll be asking you questions about your day and your answer are unintentionally dry and short, not because you're annoyed at him, you just don't have much to tell him.

☆ Makarov likes keeping you around like a cat; you do your own thing but will let him set you on his lap, pet your head while you're absorbed in gaming or watching something. If you ever try to stand up to get away from him so you can go back to your cave, he'll drag your ass back asking where you're going. He may critique the alarming number of hours you have logged on each of your games, you could have spent that time with him. Yes, he sulks over that, although he'd never admit the real reason why you pc sometimes won't run a new game you just bought knowing you're about to pull another all-nighter playing it when you could be cuddling up in bed with him.

★ Keegan can't stand to see you stay inside all the time. Sure, he's also a quiet guy but unlike you he can socialize when he needs to, it's just rare for him to do so. Sometimes, he'll forcibly take you out, there's not many places you're fond of going but he considers it a win if you sit contently through the car ride. Your only excitement is when another package you ordered arrives and you'll be inside for a minimum of two days enjoying that new thing you bought.

☆ König will listen to you go on and on all day about your hyperfixations and interests. Since you barely go out, you don't talk to many people, and the one person who listens to you has the unfortunate fate of having to sit down and just nod along even if he doesn't understand anything at all. That person is König. He's not the fondest of video games, not that he hates them, he just never got the hang of them and would much rather watch you play. He'll let you talk his ear off as you excitedly tell him about anything really.

★ Horangi likes being mean to you. He knows how much you HATE having the big light on in your room, because you only ever turn on your LED lights and it also messes you up when playing video games. The menace will walk in and stand ominously by the light switch until you notice and he flips the switch and you have to cover your eyes before you go blind. Other than that he loves spending time with you, will order delivery and sit with you to play video games or watch some series or movie you're both addicted to. He himself was a loser at some point so he still has loser tendencies.

☆ Nikto doesn't care much about what you do to occupy yourself when he's not around, but on days he is home, he prefers to pull you away from your video games and spend your day with him. You don't mind spending time with your boyfriend, but he's clingy... will watch and question everything you do when your attention isn't directed at him. Why do you keep sitting at your desk? What could be so interesting on that computer? You don't work... then why do you spend so much time on a silly video game as if it paid you? He'll sit next to you, staring at the screen as you play, not knowing what exactly he's looking at. But if it's interesting to you, then it should be to him as well.

[natalicss]

Guilty Conscience

choi seunghyun x american pop star!reader

summary: you’ve been out of the public eye for five years. at the 2025 grammys, you’re making your comeback. unbeknownst to you, your ex boyfriend has been making his own comeback to the industry.

warnings: angst, american!reader, lots of mental health talk, depression, anxiety, toxic music industry, toxic industry IN GENERAL, breakup, i kinda rushed this so it sucks lowkey

word count: 5.5k

nat’s notes: hey y’all!! i wanted to get this out as soon as possible so HERE I AM!! this is my first t.o.p fic so i hope yall enjoyyyy. i kept it angsty because ive been writing too much happy shit. you’re welcome. hope you guys enjoy, if you don’t…idk don’t tell me. i’m not promising a part two to this, but…never say never - xoxo former belieber

You sat at the vanity in your greenroom. You watched as your hair dresser and makeup stylist worked their magic, elevating your features in the most beautiful ways. Meanwhile, your stylist rambled on about your outfit, talking about how it fit your body in all the right ways, and how difficult it was to tailor it the way you wanted. A joke thrown out about how high maintenance you are. You don’t really respond, smiling faintly as you look back at your reflection. 

Part of you couldn’t believe it. You were sitting in a greenroom, wearing custom designer wardrobe, getting your makeup and hair done by familiar faces, and within the hour you would be standing on a stage in front of thousands of people, all of whom had no idea you were there. Part of it felt normal. A familiar pattern easy to slip back into as if no time had passed. But that’s the thing, time had passed. Five years. Five years since your last tour. Five and a half since your last album. Five years since you disappeared from the media. Five years since your mental health had taken a detrimental turn and you needed to take care of yourself. Five years since you and your ex boyfriend broke up and never saw each other again. 

Your own decision to go off the radar for so long had nothing to do with your breakup, not really. The media had been cruel, talking about you in ways it hadn’t before. Talking about your greatest insecurities, nit-picking at every move you made on and off stage, spreading rumors about your romantic life (all of which were false, but fans didn’t care), people you thought were your friends had turned out to be frauds. The world of fame of glamour that was usually just that suddenly felt ugly and dark. You had to escape. Your breakup had only been collateral damage, both you and your ex wanting the same things, but somehow you both paid the price. 

The day you met him was a silly one. You were on a world tour, years ago. You had just made your big break, winning awards left and right, promoting a new album, traveling to places you’d never been. When you had a show in Seoul, you were ecstatic. The show itself was absolutely epic, and would go down in your music career as one of your best shows. Everything about it was perfect. From your vocals, to your dancers, to the lights, to the band, and to the crowd, it was legendary. 

It was after the show, you were drinking water as your manager excitedly told you someone wanted to meet you. She said it was a big name, and you urgently moved to follow her to find who exactly had come to your show. And there he was. Choi Seunghyun, but in that moment you knew him at T.O.P. You tried to maintain your excitement, but you were pretty sure he saw right through you. 

There was no intention behind his introduction. He had wanted to meet you after Kwon Ji-yong had played your song for him. She’s the next big thing, for sure, he’d said as he gestured to your album on his phone. Ji-yong had continued to rave about you, which only led to Seunghyun looking you up himself. He’d quickly become enamored. With your charm, your wittiness, your creative process, all of which was shown in your interviews and your videos. You were a force to be reckoned with, just like Ji-yong said, and Seunghyun had to know you. He had to see how your mind worked. All of his curiosity was purely about music, about the industry.

So, the two of you became friends, following each other on socials. And you’d be the one to text him first, thanking him for coming to your show. You liked to think that text was what sealed your fate. Your fate that you’d eventually fall in love with Seunghyun. A whirlwind romance. Unexpected, but it made more sense than anything else ever had. The media had not known about the two of you (a choice you both made, and later were grateful for). The softness he held for you and nobody else. The warmth of his voice when he called you daily. The mischievous twinkle in his eyes when he’d surprise you by showing up at your shows. Your hands in his hair as you helped him dye it different colors. Your voice when you sang him your newest love songs inspired by him. Your laugh when he’d wrap his arms around your waist and lift you in the air.

A whirlwind romance that ended in fire and ashes. 

You don’t know where exactly it had all gone to shit, for lack of better words. Was it the distance? Was it the scandals the two of you had faced at the same time? Was it the pressure of society weighing you both down? You weren’t quite sure. You’d been there for Seunghyun during his darkest days. You’d stop your life to live with him as long as he needed. You faced his guilt, his anger, his grief, his anxiety, all with him even when he pushed you away. It never deterred you. Seunghyun, at the time, could never understand. Why would you want to be burdened by him and his actions? Why wouldn’t you leave him? He had tried, begged you, pleaded you to leave him be. He knew you deserved better than him, but he was too selfish at the time to end it himself. He didn’t want you to leave him. 

And when your own world started to crumble, Seunghyun tried to be there with you.The media had pulled you apart at the seams. The fans that once adored you now treated you like you were a wicked witch. The fellow musicians who were your friends now stood back and watched as you struggled for air. They let you drown in the cruelty of the media. And what had you done? The truth was, well, nothing. You’d done nothing wrong, and somehow that was the worst thing you could have done. You were good, too good, so surely something must be wrong with you. 

And as Seunghyun watched the light drain from your eyes, a guilt riddled in his chest. He’d tried to be there for you, but his efforts fell short. You were both drowning. Your own worlds were suffocating you both. He could not save you, for he could not save himself. But you could not save you, either, for you were too busy saving him. When he realized this, the selfish feelings he had were suddenly burning him alive. He could not keep you. Not when you paid the price. 

That was five years ago. Five years ago, Choi Seunghyun had broken up with you in his home in Seoul. Five years ago, you begged him with tears to stay. You were too selfish to let him go. He had to be the selfless one, because if he wasn’t, he knew the world would lose you permanently. He’d rather you’d hate him and live than love him and rot. 

His efforts pulled off. You spent the next five years healing. Therapy, medication, meditation, yoga, music, spending time with family or friends, and just about every other coping mechanism you could try. You did it all. Two years ago you started writing music again. A year and a half ago, you’d started producing. A year ago, you started working with your team to start talking about a comeback. And now, here you were, at the Grammy’s, about to announce exactly that. You were back, ready to face the spotlight after so long of praying it’d never find you again. 

The setlist was simple. It’d start playing an old song of yours, your first hit that started your career, before glitching out. Then, the set would open up to reveal you under the flickering lights before your biggest song started. You were shaking, unable to focus on anything other than directly ahead of you. You didn’t even want to think of the song you were about to play, because of course your biggest hit would be a song about Seunghyun. It was the first song you wrote about him. It was upbeat, fun, energetic, sensual, and hit every mark that reminded you of Seunghyun. The song had skyrocketed your career even farther than anything you’d seen. You were already building a name for yourself, but this song had became the song that people associated with you when you were mentioned. If only they knew who you thought of.

Still, you held your head high as you heard the cue. You could hear one song start, causing the crowd to go quiet. It only took a moment before they began to scream in realization. You sucked in a heavy breath, watching as the lights began to flicker, the set began to move, the audio began to malfunction, and the crowd got louder. It all came to a head as everything went quiet. A spotlight shined on you as you smirked at the camera. The crowd goes ballistic. Screaming, cheering, gasps of surprise coming from the guests of the night. You soaked in the cheers, the exact shot of energy you needed. You looked around, your confidence growing as you finally felt something you hadn’t in a long time. You felt like you belonged.

“Did you miss me?”

Choi Seunghyun was going about his own day. He’d been busy, of late. Interviews, working on his own music for the future, photoshoots. He’d been out of the public eye for so long, and he still was unsure of it all. Still, he was finding his footing in a world he once loved so much. His first step was acting. The perception had been mixed, at first, but now he was seeing the positives again. Something he hadn’t seen in years. 

He was in between meetings, taking a quick break. He was sitting in an office, alone, scrolling through his phone absentmindedly. Part of him loved seeing all the positive feedback, the love he’d gotten for his new role, the support for the future of his career. But part of it still settled uneasy on his chest. Seeing comments about his past reminded him of the guilt he’d tried so hard to move on from. Ignoring it was difficult, but he managed to do well most days.

Then, on his instagram explore page, he saw a familiar face. Yours.

He clicked on it.

There you were, standing on a stage. For a moment, he thought this was an old clip, but he knew it wasn’t because your hair was not that length the last time he saw you. He looked at the caption. Y/N MAKES COMEBACK AT THE GRAMMYS. PERFORMS HER BIGGEST HITS ALONG WITH NEW SINGLE.

He’d never admit how quickly he opened YouTube. 

Seunghyun felt all of the air in his longs dissipate as he stared at his phone screen. As the music of the song you wrote for him began to play. You looked different. Your eyes filled with a familiar light, something that hadn’t been there when you packed your things from his home. You looked healthier. Lighter. The weight of the media no longer crushing your bones like before. As the song started and your dancers moved with you, Seunghyun was mesmerized. The same way he was when he’d visit your shows. The way you move so effortlessly. The flirtation in your lyrics, when you’d lean against another dancer and let them sway your hips. The way you still sang it was better than the recording, in his opinion. He still new every word. He found himself mouthing them as he watched you command the stage like you never left.

For a moment, he felt jealous of you. The way it seemed like time hadn’t affected you like it did him. The way you seemed so…okay. He wasn’t okay. He had changed so much over the years, even more so when he finally bit the bullet and said goodbye. He wasn’t the same man he was. But you still looked the same. You had the same smile. The same choreography. The same dancers. You just looked…better.

“Did you miss me?” 

Your voice rang in his ears, the words feeling like a mockery of how he felt. Teasing the way he sat there staring at the screen with conflicted emotions swirling in his chest. He couldn’t help but wonder if you had seen him. His return to the industry. He’d wondered if you saw the articles months ago, or if you’d seen him in Squid Game first. He’d wondered if you saw the interviews he’d just done, or if you’d somehow manage to dodge anything relating to your ex lover. Maybe you were the luckier one out of the two of them. 

A familiar ache in his chest continued to build as he watched your performance. As you danced on stage with dancers he’d recognized from as far back as when he met you. As you sang to a crowd of your musical peers who’d either had your back or stabbed it. As you commanded the stage with a new level of confidence he’d hadn’t seen you wear in years. He felt that ache. He felt the way his heart pounded against his ribcage. How his lungs suddenly felt like they couldn’t hold enough air. How his eyes burned because he couldn’t blink. He could only stare.

As the song ended, the cameras cut to the various artists there, cheering and screaming loudly for you. A sense of pride washed over Seunghyun. This was the praise you’d deserved. To be recognized by some of the biggest stars in the industry. To be admired by the people again. It was all right there for you, waiting for you. Something he was sure you didn’t expect, but he did. 

As your dancers started to move away, you started walking to the second stage in the midst of the tables of guests. One dancer hands you a jacket to cover up, and you come to a microphone. A slow song starts playing. Seunghyun closes his eyes tightly as he realizes this was one of the last songs you’d released. It was a breakup song. A song filled with his promises he broke and your shattered heart left in between the lyrics. He had hardly listened to it since it was released, the memories of your breakup coming in every time.

You had stared at him with doe-eyes, but he refused to look at you. He couldn’t. Not when he finally had just enough strength to let you go. He knew one look at your heart broken face would have him retracting, falling to the floor and hugging your body as he begs you to forgive him and forget what he’d said. But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t keep you, no matter how much he wanted to.

You’d been living with him in Seoul for a while. Mostly to help him with his struggles, a choice you made without him asking. Your undying loyalty for him trumping any other option. The media’s cruelty towards you had started sometime after. You put on a brave face, at first, but as time passed by and their criticisms were more so filled with hate, your facade cracked. Seunghyun watched helplessly. He couldn’t save you. Not like this. He’d tried, but no words and no comfort were there. He was so broken, so lost within himself in the worst ways that he couldn’t even reach for your hand as you sobbed next to him at night. 

But you, you always did. You wiped his tears when he cried to you. You whispered sweet nothings to him to reassure him that he was deserving of good things. You made his favorite meals, or ordered them if you didn’t know how. You surprised him with small gifts. You loved him so seamlessly, so effortlessly, so loudly…Seunghyun didn’t understand why he couldn’t be as good to you as you were to him. 

And then, as he stood a few feet away from you, looking out a window, the guilt seemed to chew at his organs. The deafening silence felt cold. We can’t do this anymore, he had whispered to you. Your breath hitched, your soft eyes suddenly swimming with something else.

“Why?” Your voice came out in soft concern. “Seunghyun, what happened?” You were more worried about him. Because of course you were. Your love for him, your loyalty, it all seemed to matter more to you than anything.

Seunghyun closed his eyes tight as he tried to erase the way your voice sounded. “We aren’t good for eachother.” Was all he could say. His own voice would betray him if he said more.

You shook your head. You got up from the couch you’d previously been sitting on, walking closer to your boyfriend. He refuse to look at you. He was staring out at the city. A city he almost despised now. A world he had grown a resentment towards after it tore you apart. Him? Fine. He’d take his guilt and he’d drown in it again and again until it melted off his skin and left him nothing but bones. But you? You were different. You were better. You deserved better.

“I can’t help you,” He says softly, a quiet confession. “I can’t be the partner you need.”

It was almost naive of you, the way you only batted your eyes at him and shook your head. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening. This was some sick joke. Or maybe Seunghyun saw something in the media about him that made him feel insecure. You weren’t sure, but you knew that this couldn’t be it. Not like this. You reached for his arm, your fingers delicately touching his skin. “Seunghyun-” You flinched as he pulled away from your grasp. He’d never done that before, not even when the two of you got into your fights.

“This isn’t a discussion.” He said. His tone turned harsh, a way for him to get through this without shattering at your feet. It was another thing he didn’t do often with you. Sure, when you fought sometimes things got loud, shouting at each other to try and get your thoughts heard and understood. But the sting felt harsher here. You felt your eyes starting to burn as tears built up. You were so confused. This morning, the two of you were wrapped in each others arms, nothing more than tangled limbs and kisses with swollen lips. You two were smiling, your hands tracing each others bare skin. You two were happy, you thought. How could so much have changed in this short amount of time?

Seunghyun felt like he was going to throw up. Every part of his body screamed at him to shut the fuck up, change his mind, wrap you in his arms and throw the both of you back in the bed and stay there until your lips were bruised and your hands were molded to each other. Despite every urge, every instinct, every thought telling him to stop, he didn’t. He looked at you now, clenching his jaw hard as he watched the fat tears roll down your face.

“This isn’t working out. We aren’t working out.” He gestured to the air between you. Air that was usually warm and comforting had now became cold and suffocating. “I can’t do this anymore.”

You watched as he turned away from you, walking in the direction of your shared bedroom. Another emotion ate at you now. Rage boiled under your skin as you started storming after him. “What the hell is happening!?” You threw your hands in the air as you walked into the room. Confusion, frustration, it all swam in your expression as you looked at him. “You can’t do what anymore? I haven’t asked anything from you!”

That was true, and part of that was the problem. You never asked anything from him, because you knew how much he had on his own plate. Instead, you took what you could from him, accepting the little-to-no affection he’d give you most days. You accepted the uglier versions of him. The darker versions people in the industry hadn’t seen before. You accepted the days you’d go without seeing Seunghyun, knowing he was out somewhere coping in awful ways while you sat in your home and waited. You accepted the tears that he’d shed over his mistakes. You accepted the anger that came out at sudden moments, all swirled in with guilt. You took it all without a single complaint, and you loved him so deeply and so openly it hurt him more. Because he couldn’t do that for you. He couldn’t show his love for you in the ways you needed it. You were just to blind to see it.

Seunghyun ran his hand through his hair. “I know. I know, it’s not like that, okay? I just can’t-”

“Can’t what?” You walked closer, your eyes wide with desperation as you looked at him. You studied his face for anything at all. Something to explain this. Something that’d give away his thoughts. You wanted to understand. “What did I do? What can I do? Please, just talk to me. Please.” You begged. Your voice croaked as you tried to fight back your own sobs. “I’ll do anything. Just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.”

This time, Seunghyun is the one that’s fighting back his sobs. He swallows painfully has he shakes his head at you. His heart was tearing apart. “Y/N,” He whispered. You stared at him, watching as he slowly shook his head. Somehow that spoke more words than anything either of you could say. It wasn’t up to you. He’d made his choice.

That felt like a lifetime ago, and yet he still remembered it like it was yesterday.

The breakup song wasn’t a ballad. In fact it had an almost upbeat tune behind it as you sang. Different emotions swirling in every lyric. Anger, desperation, bargaining, all of the same emotions you’d felt the very night your relationship fell apart. You sang alone on the little stage, moving around to sing at the crowd, but oftentimes your eyes remained on the camera in front of you. It felt as if you sang to him directly, all these years later. Reminding him. Reminding him how you would have stayed if he had asked. How you were always his even if he was not always yours. 

He clenched his jaw as he watched. Every time the camera switched to focus on the crowd or your band was a blessing. A second of freedom from the raw emotions you’d seemed to dig up when singing this song. It was like you were reliving it too. Just like he was. Both of you still stuck in that bedroom. Your voice still pleading for understanding. His body still yearning. His eyes avoiding you. His words shattering reality.

And when the song finally ended, Seunghyun couldn’t breathe. He wanted it to be over. He could click away, he knows that. But he doesn’t. He watches as the crowd cheers your name, and the cameras focus on the darkness of the room. A mystery lurking behind the scenes as people wondered what song you’d perform next.

The unfamiliar intro of another song began. Almost all vocals, the dancers crowded around your body, and you’re staring directly at the camera. The crowd goes wild as your dancers crowd around you, their hands dragging all over your body as you pose. A  beat hits, the lights go out. Seunghyun watches. Another beat, the lights flash on, and you start singing again. A new song, your first song in five years. You start a new complicated dance routine, your body moving naturally with every line.

Seunghyun listened closely to the words. His mouth went dry as he began to register the words. Your comeback song was filled with confidence, but it had a meaning behind it. Seunghyun started to blink, tapping his phone to rewind ten seconds to listen again. Seunghyun felt like throwing up. He very well might. You singing a song about loving someone, despite the way the both of you are, well, not very good for each other. Felt oddly on the nose. The sound of the song was much more your style. Pop with electronic flares, music with fun beats and catchy chorus’s that fueled your dancers. Sensuality flowing through you.

It dawned on him, then. Realization. You were back. You weren’t hiding from the industry, and in a way, you weren’t hiding from him. Whatever had changed between five years ago and now…he knew it was clear. You’d found yourself, just like he’d hoped. You were ethereal as you moved around the stage. You were confident, strong, sexy, absolutely perfect. He couldn’t help but smirk, his chest swelling with pride. 

He’d always been proud of you. You’d always been freakishly talented. Your creative abilities amazed him. It’s what drew him to you in the first place. Even after all this time, you hadn’t lost that flare. That spark. He saw it, even now, as you struck a pose in the center of the stage, finishing the song. Everybody cheered. Everybody was on their feet, clapping and loudly yelling in appreciation. It had been a surprise for all of them, and seemingly everybody loved it. You were breathing heavily, and he could see it. Underneath the emotional layers you wore on stage, he could see the nerves that had seemed to finally relax. He could see your eyes studying every face. Your lips curling up in a wide smile.

You’d made it. Just like he knew you would. 

As the video ended, Seunghyun reopened instagram. It was still sitting on the same post. A news source that had already started making articles to explain how big of a deal this was. He could see comments piling up in excitement. You were breaking the internet, though that didn’t surprise him at all. A gentle, sad, soft smile on his face, Seunghyun double tapped the screen. A heart was on the middle of his screen, covering you for only a second, before he clicked his phone off. He looked up as someone walked in, telling him it was time for the next meeting. He stood up, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt, nodding politely.

You were basking in after parties. 

Your music friends invited you out immediately, knowing you hadn’t been to one of these events in so long. You accepted, feeling deserving after making a comeback in a very loud way. Everyone was congratulating you, telling you how proud they were, how they couldn’t wait to hear what was next, and just about every other compliment imaginable. You let yourself accept them. It was praise you were no longer used to, but you’d be damned if you didn’t let yourself have it all for one night.

So, here you were, at some expensive hotel rented out by some super star for the party, dancing your heart out in a short sparkly dress, holding your third or fourth glass of champagne. You were having the time of your life. In your hiatus, you’d taken a lot of time for yourself. To learn to love yourself, to have more confidence in you and your choices. You took time to learn that the media was always going to be cruel; you just had to choose if you’d let it eat you alive or if you’d rise above it. It seems you’d finally learned how to do the latter. 

You’d also made the choice to stay off social media. You’d had side profiles to watch things, but you’d made the choice to focus on real life. It was an effort to keep the critiques and harsh words to a minimum for the last few years. Your team posted photos of your choice, let you pick the captions, they posted stories and such for you, but overall you remained off line. Until tonight, I guess. You had ended up sitting on a couch after dancing to way too many songs with your friends. You hiccuped, opening social media apps to see the reviews thus far.

Twitter, X, whatever, had been an expected mix. People mostly excited seeing you around again, looking happy and alive. Enthusiasm over the new music coming later in the year. There were the random haters, but you knew now to scroll past if it wasn’t meaningful or progressive in any way. 

Tiktok was already swimming with edits. You giggled at the comments, knowing how absolutely wild fans could get on there. You didn’t stay there long, worried you’d start overthinking the way you looked in certain frames. Silly things you can’t control. You were confident in your appearance and your stage presence now. Something you lacked before. But the nerves still ate at you, even if only slightly. It was progress, something that’d take time and more performances to work through. You closed the app to move on to another one.

Instagram comments flooded your page. You hadn’t posted anything yet, but people were already raving about you. Part of you was surprised. Sure, you knew some people would be happy, but the overwhelming amounts of love you were receiving was still unexpected. Even with years of therapy and self-help, you weren’t sure many people would care about you anymore. It felt nice to be proven otherwise. To prove the dark parts of you that still lingered wrong. 

You were looking at posts about you. From fanpages to news articles. Some included clips of your performance, some just random stills. You were smiling softly. People wanted more from you. They were ready for the single, the album, even a tour if thats what you chose. It all sparked a familiar joy in you. A familiar excitement that had been buried under years of torment from the media. But you weren’t letting it control you. Not anymore. 

Then, by chance, as you scrolled through the recommended posts on your explore page, you saw something.

Liked by ttt and others

You blinked, thinking it was the champagne making you read it wrong. You read it again. And again. And again. ttt. T.O.P. Choi Seunghyun. Suddenly you felt remarkably sober.

Admittedly, you stopped keeping up with him after Still Life came out. Your friends and people around you told you it wasn’t good for you, and they were right. You’d spent years waiting for him to come back to you. Waiting for him to check in. Send a postcard. Anything. You couldn’t fully heal while holding out for him. So you had to stop. You had to pull away even when every part of you hated the idea. 

And now you were staring at his instagram username like it’d just kicked you in the stomach. It felt that way too. 

You clicked his name. The air kicked out of your lungs as you looked at a photo of him with purple hair, painted nails, wearing a teal sweatshirt with the number 230. You’d heard he’d been in Squid Game, but you’d chosen to avoid it and Netflix entirely for the foreseeable future. 

This leads you to a spiral, in the middle of an afterparty, googling your ex boyfriend and seeing all the things he’d been up to while you were gone. From his wine company to dearMoon to Squid Game. His interviews were filled with remorse and nerves. You hated how you still felt empathy for him. You hated how deeply you related to every sentence. You hated how even after all this time it felt like the two of you spoke the same language. 

But you also had felt a smile form as you read his hopes for the future. As you saw photos of him. Clips of him doing press for the show. He was slowly coming out of the shell he’d been forced into. And he was still beautiful. Still soft and warm in the ways you remembered. You’d wanted this for him for so long, so of course you found yourself looking at photos of him with a level of fondness that felt unfamiliar now.

And as you stared at the video and series of photos of Seunghyun on Squid Games’s instagram account, you pondered your next move. What were the chances he’d see it? Slim, considering the post was a few days old. What were the chances fans would see it? Less slim, considering they’d be watching your moves now. So, you did the logical thing. You liked the image, a heart forming over Seunghyun’s face for a moment. Then, to cover your tracks, you liked a few more Squid Game posts. You’re just a fan of the show, you could say if people talked too much. You even were sure to follow Lee Jung Jae to make it more passable. Sure, your team and your friends would know the real reasonings, but it wasn’t obvious to anyone else.

Other than Seunghyun, of course, who saw it a few days later.

[kaiyunsim]

all i want —

pairing : popular boy!jay x gn!reader

summary : your main objective is to gain the attention of the popular boy, park jongseong, and once you do some things don't go to plan.

warnings : angst, ANGST, like quite literally the littlest amount of fluff, college au, featuring heeseung and jake, huening kai from txt, yunah from illit, yunjin, chaewon, and sakura from le sserafim.

a/n : BACK TO DOING REQUESTS !! this was the modren au of the pierrot request (i hope it turned out like you liked anon!)

queueing : all i want - olivia rodrigo

[requested]

— wc : 3.9k — not proof read ! —

you don’t think you’re in love with jay park...

really, you don’t.

but there’s something about him that makes you pay attention. the way he walks through campus like he belongs everywhere, always greeted by someone, always flashing that effortless, lopsided grin that seems to make people forget whatever they were talking about before he arrived. he’s just that kind of person, the type everyone seems to like without him even trying.

and maybe that’s why you notice him.

you wouldn’t call it an obsession, not even close, but you do find yourself looking for him in crowded lecture halls, in the dining hall, at whatever random student event yunah drags you to. it’s not on purpose. not really...

“it’s a little on purpose,” kai says one afternoon, shoving a spoonful of rice into his mouth as he gives you a knowing look.

yunah snickers beside him, chin propped up in her hand. “a lot on purpose, actually.”

you roll your eyes. “you guys are exaggerating.”

“sure,” yunah says, dragging out the word like she doesn’t believe you at all. “so you just happened to sit right in his line of sight at lunch yesterday?”

“it’s not my fault that’s where the only open seats were.”

kai snorts. “right. and you just accidentally wore your nicest jacket that day, too?”

you huff, turning your attention back to your food as heat crawls up your neck. okay, so maybe you put a little effort into your presence around jay. but can you be blamed? it’s not like you’re the only one who notices him. half the school probably has a crush on him, and why wouldn’t they? he’s good-looking, confident, and way too charming for his own good.

but unlike everyone else, you want him to notice you. so try and you make it happen.

it starts small, passing by him in the library and making a quick comment about whatever book he has in his hand. holding the door open for him when you both leave the same building. sitting just close enough in class that he might overhear you cracking a joke to yunah or kai, just in case he finds you funny.

and eventually, he does notice.

the first time jay actually acknowledges you beyond a passing glance, it’s in the middle of a group study session for one of your shared classes. the conversation shifts to a ridiculous debate over the best late-night snacks, and when you confidently declare that convenience store ramen at 2 a.m. is objectively the best, jay raises an eyebrow at you.

“that’s the most broke college student thing i’ve ever heard,” he says, but there’s amusement in his tone, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

you shrug. “i never claimed to be high-class.”

he laughs at that. a real laugh, not just the polite kind. and for the first time, his full attention is on you.

it feels like a win.

after that, it’s easier. jay doesn’t just glance past you anymore; he acknowledges you. he returns your passing comments with witty remarks of his own, sometimes even initiates conversation. he’s not overly warm, not the kind to suddenly become your best friend overnight, but you can tell he enjoys the back-and-forth. and that’s enough.

for now.

yunah, of course, is convinced this is all hilarious. “you’re playing a dangerous game,” she warns one evening as the two of you walk across campus. “this whole ‘subtly inserting yourself into his life’ thing? it’s a lot.”

“it’s not a lot,” you argue. “it’s casual.”

“right,” she says, dragging the word out again.

kai, when you recount the conversation to him later, just shakes his head. “i give it a month before you start actually falling for him.”

you scoff. “i am not falling for jay park.”

but kai just gives you a knowing look, and something about it makes you uneasy.

because if you’re being honest, completely honest, you’re not sure if he’s wrong.

you don’t expect jay to start texting you.

sure, he acknowledges you now. you exchange jokes in class, he actually meets your eyes when you speak, and sometimes... sometimes. he even leans in when you say something, like he actually cares about your words. but that’s different from texting.

so when his name pops up on your screen for the first time, you nearly drop your phone.

jay park: did you get the notes for today’s lecture?

it takes you way too long to process those six simple words, and even longer to figure out what to say back. because, sure, it’s a normal text, nothing special, but it’s jay. texting you. on purpose.

your fingers hover over the keyboard. do you play it cool? act casual? should you tease him about it? no, that’s too much. you settle on something neutral.

you: yeah, want me to send them?

the read receipt pops up almost instantly.

jay park: yeah, thanks. appreciate it.

you send a picture of your notes and lock your phone, setting it face down on your desk like that will stop you from overanalyzing the situation.

“you good?” yunah asks, raising an eyebrow at your suddenly frozen state.

kai, always observant, glances between you and your phone and immediately narrows his eyes. “no way,” he says slowly. “don’t tell me—”

“jay texted me,” you blurt out, then slap a hand over your mouth like you just confessed to a crime.

yunah’s eyes go wide. “shut up.”

kai looks like he’s waiting for a punchline. “you’re lying.”

you flip your phone over, showing them the screen, and instantly, yunah grabs your wrist to pull it closer while kai gapes at you.

“oh my god,” yunah breathes. “he has your number?”

“i—yeah?” you laugh, feeling a little dizzy. “i mean, i didn’t give it to him, but i guess he got it from someone.”

kai groans, leaning back in his chair. “this is it. this is how it starts.”

“how what starts?” you ask, even though you think you already know the answer.

“you, falling headfirst for this guy.”

you scoff, but the warmth in your chest betrays you. “it’s just a text.”

yunah smirks. “for now.”

—

the texts don’t stop.

it’s nothing excessive, mostly casual messages about class, sometimes the occasional comment about something that happened that day. but then it starts shifting.

jay sends you a meme once, completely unprompted. you stare at it for a full minute before sending back a laughing emoji, unsure of what reaction is expected.

jay park: thought you’d appreciate that one.

you: oh, so now you’re studying my sense of humor?

jay park: maybe. gotta keep up with you somehow.

and just like that, it starts to become something more.

it’s little things at first. he responds faster, starts teasing you more, even initiates conversations that aren’t about class. you notice how his friends start giving him looks when he talks to you, how heeseung nudges him in the ribs when he passes you in the hallway, how jake smirks every time jay lingers near you after class.

one night, you’re sitting in your dorm scrolling mindlessly when your phone buzzes.

jay park: we’re getting food. you in?

you blink at the message.

you: we?

jay park: me, heeseung, jake. maybe a couple others.

it takes you a second to process. jay park, who you’ve spent weeks trying to get to notice you, is inviting you out. voluntarily.

you don’t even hesitate before typing out a response.

you: where?

—

when you show up at the burger place jay mentioned, it’s easy to spot their table—mostly because jake is laughing way too loudly at something heeseung said.

jay catches sight of you first, raising an eyebrow. “didn’t think you’d actually come.”

you scoff, sliding into the open seat across from him. “why invite me if you thought i wouldn’t?”

he shrugs, smirking. “figured i’d give you a chance to prove you’re cool enough to hang with us.”

“and if i’m not?”

“then we’ll kick you out, obviously.”

heeseung snorts. “nah, you’re fine. we need someone to humble jay every now and then.”

“i don’t need humbling,” jay says, rolling his eyes.

jake just grins. “sure, man.”

the night is surprisingly easy. conversation flowing effortlessly, laughter coming naturally. you don’t miss the way jay leans back in his seat, arms crossed as he watches you banter with his friends, like he’s assessing you. but he doesn’t seem bored. if anything, he looks amused.

and when the night ends, as you’re heading back to your dorm, your phone vibrates again.

jay park: not bad. you might actually survive in our group.

you bite back a smile.

you: gee, thanks for the approval.

you don’t think too hard about the fact that jay park, who could easily ignore you, who used to barely acknowledge you, now texts you first. now invites you out. now looks at you like you’re someone worth paying attention to.

but maybe, just maybe, you should.

you don’t hesitate when jay invites you to the party.

it’s casual. the way he mentions it, the way he shrugs like it’s no big deal. but the moment he says, you should come, there’s no question about whether or not you’ll be there. you tell yunah and kai immediately, mostly so they can’t talk you out of it.

"this is a terrible idea," kai groans as you drag him toward the house, music already thudding through the walls.

"but we're already here, so you have no choice," you grin, nudging him forward.

yunah, always up for chaos, just laughs. "it's one party, kai. let them live a little."

"yeah, yeah," kai sighs. "just don’t say i didn’t warn you."

you roll your eyes but don’t say anything. because tonight—you know tonight is going to be different and it starts off exactly how you want it to.

jay finds you fast, like he was waiting. he’s got that easy grin, a drink in hand, eyes bright under the dim lighting.

"look who actually showed up," he says, bumping his shoulder against yours.

"what, you didn’t think i would?"

he tilts his head, considering. "nah. i figured you'd follow me anywhere at this point."

you scoff, shoving him lightly. "you're delusional."

he just laughs.

but the thing is... he doesn’t leave your side.

he finds ways to stay close, to lean in when he talks, to rest an arm on the couch behind you like it’s second nature. every little thing. every glance, every smirk, every low-spoken joke, feels intentional. like he’s choosing to focus on you.

yunah shoots you a look from across the room, eyebrow raised, like shes saying 'oh, so we’re winning now?'

you grin, triumphant. maybe you are.

and then the door opens, and everything changes.

you don’t see her at first. but you feel it. the shift in energy, the way jay stiffens slightly beside you. you follow his gaze, and there she is.

huh yunjin.

she steps in like she belongs here, and maybe she does. kura and chaewon are right beside her, laughing at something she says. she’s glowing, not literally, but she might as well be, because suddenly, it feels like she’s the brightest thing in the room.

jay notices. of course he does.

but it’s how he notices that gets you.

his body shifts, attention snapping to her completely. he doesn’t call out to her or wave her over. he just watches, eyes sharp, focused. you recognize it instantly. it’s the same way you’ve been looking at him.

"ah, shit," kai mutters under his breath, low enough that only you hear.

yunah catches it too. her expression hardens slightly, but she doesn’t say anything.

you swallow down whatever weird feeling creeps up your throat. "it’s fine," you say, even though no one asked.

because it is fine. yunjin doesn’t even notice jay yet. she’s too busy greeting people, laughing with her friends, tossing her hair over her shoulder like she’s in a movie. she’s effortless. natural.

jay shifts beside you, sitting up a little straighter, like he’s bracing himself.

and then, as if the universe is playing a joke on you, she looks over and jay moves before you can process it.

he doesn’t leave entirely, doesn’t abandon you completely, but he leans forward, elbows on his knees, suddenly more present. more intentional. his usual laid-back smirk fades into something more composed, like he actually cares about the impression he’s making.

it’s subtle, but it’s there. and you notice.

you always notice.

because it’s different from how he is with you.

yunah squeezes your wrist under the table. you barely realize you’ve gone quiet.

you breathe in, slow. force yourself to smile.

"i need another drink," you mutter.

kai frowns. "you good?"

"yeah," you say quickly, already standing up. "i’m fine."

but the thing is, you’re not so sure anymore.

and the next thing you know, you wake up with a headache and the vague memory of kai shoving water into your hands last night, telling you to drink this before you pass out on my couch.

turns out, you did pass out on his couch.

the ceiling above you is unfamiliar, but the weight of a blanket over your shoulders and the distant sound of yunah humming in the kitchen reminds you where you are. kai's apartment. safe.

your head is pounding. maybe you drank a little too much last night. maybe you just needed an excuse to forget the way jay looked at yunjin like she was the only person in the room.

kai walks past the couch, arms crossed, unimpressed. "so, you really wanna do this to yourself?"

you groan, pulling the blanket over your face. "what are you talking about?"

"you know exactly what i’m talking about," he deadpans.

yunah walks in, placing a bottle of water and a slice of toast on the coffee table. "you were quiet the whole walk home. that’s never a good sign."

you peek out from under the blanket, blinking at them. "i was tired."

"you were thinking," yunah corrects. "about him."

you don't answer, but the way you hesitate says enough. yunah and kai share a glance, then sigh at the same time.

"this is bad," kai mutters.

"this is really bad," yunah agrees.

you sit up slowly, stretching out your sore limbs. "guys, it’s not that deep."

kai gives you a look. "not that deep? he spent the whole night staring at someone else while you were right there. and you still think it’s not that deep?"

you shrug, even though the memory stings. "i never expected anything from him."

"that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck," yunah says gently.

you don’t answer. because what are you supposed to say?

yeah, it sucks. yeah, i noticed the way he changed when she walked in. yeah, i feel like an idiot.

instead, you just take the water bottle and sip slowly.

—

the thing is, jay doesn’t ignore you after the party. if anything, he starts texting more.

but the texts aren’t what you expect.

hey, do you know where yunjin usually gets coffee? i feel like she mentioned a favorite café before. any idea what it is? does she have a type? just wondering lol.

the first time it happens, you stare at your phone for a long time before answering.

the second time, you laugh to yourself, because of course this is how it’s going to go.

the third time, you almost don’t respond. but you do.

because if this is what it takes to stay in his orbit a little longer, isn’t it worth it?

you tell yourself it doesn’t matter. you tell yourself this was never supposed to be serious. you tell yourself it’s fine.

so you text him back. you tell him what you know. you play along.

you pretend it doesn’t hurt.

—

"this is pathetic," kai says.

you scowl at him over your laptop. "you’re dramatic."

"no, you’re dramatic," he argues, pointing at your phone. "you’re literally feeding him intel on another girl."

yunah sighs, flopping onto the couch beside you. "kai’s right. he’s using you."

"it’s not that serious," you mumble, pretending to focus on your screen.

"then why do you look like you wanna throw your phone into the sun every time he texts?"

you don’t have an answer for that.

yunah reaches for your phone, and you yank it out of reach. she glares. "just admit it. this sucks. he sucks. and you’re letting it happen."

"it’s not like i thought this would go anywhere," you mutter, picking at the corner of your laptop.

kai softens. "yeah, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay to let yourself get hurt."

yunah nudges your shoulder. "you deserve better than this, you know?"

you force a smile. "i know."

but deep down, something bitter curls in your chest. because maybe you don’t.

the first time you notice it, you don’t think much of it.

jay’s replies come slower, a little shorter. instead of texting you back immediately, minutes stretch into hours. sometimes, he doesn’t respond at all.

it’s fine. you’re not obsessed with him or anything. you have your own life, your own friends. it’s not like you’re waiting by your phone.

but then it happens again. and again.

soon, the texts stop altogether.

"just say it," you sigh, stirring your iced coffee with the straw.

yunah doesn’t even pretend to be subtle. "he’s ghosting you."

kai, always a little softer, presses his lips together. "maybe not ghosting. just… phasing out?"

"wow, that makes it sooo much better," you roll your eyes.

kai shrugs. "i’m just saying, he’s not the type to cut people off all at once. he’s probably just—"

"getting closer to yunjin," yunah finishes, rolling her eyes. "as if we didn’t all see that coming."

you glance down at your phone. still nothing.

you shouldn’t care this much. you really shouldn’t.

"are you gonna text him?" kai asks.

"why would i?"

"because you obviously want to," yunah says, propping her chin in her palm.

you hesitate. you could text him. ask if things are still cool. act like you’re totally unbothered, like you haven’t noticed the way he’s been pulling away.

but would it even matter?

the things is... eventually, you give in.

you : are we still cool?

the message sits there, unread, for a while. long enough for you to regret sending it.

jay park : of course. just been busy.

busy.

you stare at the words, feeling something uneasy settle in your stomach.

maybe that’s true. maybe you’re overthinking. maybe he really has just been busy.

but a part of you knows better.

—

you see him at a party a few nights later.

he’s not alone.

yunjin is next to him, laughing, her hand brushing against his like it’s the most natural thing in the world. kura and chaewon are there too, but you barely notice them. all you can see is jay. how he leans in when yunjin speaks, how he looks at her like she’s interesting, like he actually wants to be there.

like the way he never looked at you.

"busy, huh?" yunah mutters beside you, sipping her drink.

kai watches you carefully. "we can leave if you want."

"i don’t care," you say, forcing a smile. "it’s whatever."

but the drink in your hand feels heavier than it should.

and you tell yourself you won’t text him. kai and yunah would kill you if they knew you were even thinking about it.

but after days of nothing,no accidental run-ins, no random messages, not even a halfhearted like on your instagram stories, you cave.

you don’t overthink it. you just type and hit send before you can regret it.

you : hey, been a while.

it’s casual. easy. something a normal, unbothered person would send.

you wait. five minutes. ten. an hour.

then—

he reads it.

and then—

nothing.

no reply. no reaction. just silence.

—

you stare at your phone, blinking at the message screen like if you look long enough, maybe it’ll change. maybe he’ll say sorry, just saw this or been meaning to text you.

maybe he’ll say something but the hours keep stretching, and your phone stays quiet.

your throat tightens. you don’t cry. you don’t even feel angry, not at first.

just... hollow.

because this is it. the final confirmation.

you weren’t anything to him. just a convenient distraction. a means to an end.

the next time you see him, you almost don’t recognize him.

he’s sitting outside the student center, laughing at something yunjin says. his arm is draped over the back of the bench she’s sitting on, close but not quite touching. heeseung and jake are there too, but they don’t seem to notice you standing a few feet away, gripping your coffee cup a little too tight.

jay doesn’t notice either.

doesn’t glance your way, doesn’t react. it’s like you’re invisible.

like you were never there at all.

—

“he’s an asshole.”

kai is pacing your dorm room, voice sharp with irritation. yunah sits cross-legged on your bed, scrolling on her phone, but you can tell she’s only half paying attention to whatever’s on the screen. she’s been sneaking glances at you all night, eyes careful, like she’s waiting for you to break.

but you don’t.

“he’s not an asshole,” you mumble instead, leaning back against the wall. “he just… lost interest.”

kai stops mid-step. “lost interest? you’re acting like he was interested in the first place.”

yunah shoots him a look. “kai.”

“no, really.” he throws up his hands. “we all told you this would happen. you knew this would happen.”

you let out a breath, staring at the ceiling. “yeah. i did.”

kai falters, like he wasn’t expecting you to agree. “so why does it still bother you?”

yunah elbows him. “subtle.”

but he’s right. it does bother you. more than you want to admit.

because it’s not just that jay cut you off. it’s how he did it. no explanation. no confrontation. just silence, like you never mattered enough to even deserve a proper goodbye.

like you were always disposable.

—

the following week, you try to move on.

yunah drags you to the campus café, pulling you into conversations about professors and weekend plans. kai forces you into game night at his dorm, playing aggressively just to get a reaction out of you.

and for a while, it works.

you laugh. you focus on other things. you tell yourself you don’t care anymore.

then you see him again.

it’s late, and you’re leaving the library, rubbing at your tired eyes when a familiar voice reaches your ears.

jay.

he’s walking ahead of you, talking to yunjin, their steps in sync. the sight of them makes something twist in your stomach, but you ignore it. you don’t have the energy for this tonight.

but then she laughs at something he says, and he turns to her with that same easy smile, the one he used to give you.

and something inside you snaps.

you don’t even know why, but you take your phone out and open your messages. your last text is still there, still unanswered. for a second, you think about deleting it. erasing any evidence of your own stupidity.

but instead, you just type out one more message.

got your answer loud and clear.

then, before you can think twice, you hit send.

and block his number.

~

ty for reading and enjoying !

enha taglist :

perm taglist : @s0shroe

[anonymousewrites]

Apple of My Eye Chapter Twenty-Six

Harry Hook x Child of Snow White! Reader

Chapter Twenty-Six: Evermore

Summary: The End (or the start of something new) arrives.

Thank you so much for joining me for Apple of My Eye. This story has been in my head for literal years, so to finally get it on paper and have so many people enjoy it is a true honor, I love you all! I hope you guys find other stories of mine you enjoy as this one comes to a closer. I will always remember Harry and MC fondly. But for now, until I see you ago, I must bid you adieu! I hope you, too, live Happily Ever After! -Mouse

            Harry’s lips touched (Y/N)’s, and a light erupted from them. It was a regal red that faded to gold as the light faded. Harry leaned back and looked at (Y/N) with wide eyes.

            Their eyes fluttered, and Harry’s heart lit up. Their eyes opened, and he let out a breath. (Y/N) looked at him and smiled slightly.

            “Harry,” they said, reaching up to him. They cupped his face, and he smiled.

            “(Y/N),” he said.

            They leaned up, and he supported them. The moment his arms were around them, (Y/N) pulled Harry in and kissed him. Instantly, Harry kissed back, and he pulled them as close as he could.

            “I love you,” whispered (Y/N) between kisses. “I love you, Harry.”

            “You love you, too,” said Harry. “I love you, Highness.”

            “You truly love me,” said (Y/N), smiling as they kissed him.

            “I do,” said Harry, nearly laughing at the rush saying it gave him. “I love you with my entire heart. Truly.”

            “And I truly love you,” said (Y/N). “I love you, Harry.”

            Their kiss ended, and they gazed at one another.

            “I can barely believe it,” said Harry. “I don’t deserve you, Highness—”

            “You do,” said (Y/N). “Because I love you. And you love me. That’s all that matters.” They smiled. “Alright?”

            “You’re always right, love,” said Harry.

            “Love?” repeated (Y/N).

            “I think the name fits you,” said Harry.

            “I love it,” said (Y/N), smiling as they held his face. “I love you.” They would never get tired of saying it. Not now that they had admitted it. Not now that Harry had said it, too. They would say it forever.

            “We’ve got to tell everyone,” said Harry as they leaned in for another kiss. He stepped back and helped them stand. “They’ve all been worried about ya, love.”

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened. “Oh my—I know who the culprit is, we need to handle that—”

            “Fleur is in custody,” said Harry. “She ain’t hurting anyone else.” He cracked a slight grin. “And her stunt as a villain convinced the troublemakers to apologize.”

            “I fall asleep for a few days, and every problem gets solved.” (Y/N) chuckled. “I should get cursed more often.”

            “If that means I get to kiss you, it’s fine with me, love,” teased Harry. It was so natural to be playful, to be in love with them.

            (Y/N) laughed as they walked towards the door. They squeezed his hand. “Come on. Let’s tell everyone.”

l

            “(Y/N)!” Evie sprinted and hugged her friend tight. “You’re awake!”

            “I am,” said (Y/N), hugging Evie back.

            “Looks like someone was brave enough to kiss their royal awake,” said Uma, and though her words were teasing, her smile was genuine. She was glad (Y/N) was awake.

            “How?” said Ben. He trailed off and looked at Harry. “Oh. Wow.”

            “I’m glad you’re alright,” said Mal, smiling. “And I’m glad you two finally told one another.”

            “Me, too,” said (Y/N).

            “Sweetheart? Oh my god—You’re awake!” Snow White and Florian had entered the room.

            “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.” (Y/N) smiled happily.

            Snow White and Florian grabbed their child and pulled them into a hug.

            “You’re awake. I was so worried! I’m so, so glad you’re alright,” said Snow White, holding them tight.

            “We were so worried,” said Florian. “We’re so relieved, sweetheart.”

            “I’m glad to see you guys. I missed you,” said (Y/N), hugging their parents. They looked at them and smiled. “And I have someone for you to meet.” They stepped back and held out their hand to Harry. “Mom, Dad, this is Harry.” They smiled. “My True Love.”

            Snow White and Florian exchanged a look. They smiled. Their child had found their True Love.

            Harry smiled back at (Y/N) as if they were the only person who existed in the world.

l

            “Hello, everyone!” said Ben, standing with Mal on the balcony above the courtyard of Auradon Prep.

            “As many of you know, Fleur has been taken into custody for casting curses on multiple of our classmates,” said Mal. “She did so to sew discord within our groups. She wanted us to not come together in a new era.”

            “But we’re stronger than that,” said Ben. “With the help of Mal’s magic and Fairy Godmother, all of the curses on our friends have been lifted.”

��           “Even (Y/N) is awake,” said Mal, gesturing for them to step out as people in the crowd whispered.

            (Y/N) walked onto the balcony, wearing yellow jeans and a blue blouse covered in red hearts. They smiled at everyone as the crowd brightened upon seeing them awake. The rumor had gotten around about their True Love curse, so to see them awake was a shock.

            “Hello,” said (Y/N), waiting for the chatter to die down. “It’s good to be back. And it’s good to know that everyone has recovered.”

            “Fleur didn’t win,” said Ben. “But there are other people like her.”

            “We will not let our prejudices win,” said Mal, looking at the crowd. “We’re going to come together.” She gestured to the crowd, and Eris stepped out.

            “I—We, everyone who agreed with me—We were all wrong,” said Eris. “The VKs, they’re people from the Isle. We all assumed the worst about them, but it was someone from Auradon who was willing to curse us. We can’t judge people from where they come from.”

            “We have to give everyone a chance,” said (Y/N), smiling. They held out their hand, and Harry, wearing a loose red pirate shirt and navy blue pants, took it. “A chance to belong and to love. Because we all deserve it.”

            “So.” Evie stepped up and smiled. “Who’s ready to take a chance?”

            “I know we’re ready,” said Uma, grinning.

            “We’re ready to take a chance!” cheered the crowd.

(All) “If you change your mind (take a chance) (Take a, take a chance-chance) I’m the first in line Honey, I’m still free (take a chance) Take a chance on me (take a, take a chance-chance)”

            Although the Auradon kids and VKS had started on separate sides of the courtyard, they slowly began to approach one another, smiling shyly.

(All) “If you need me (take a, take a chance-chance) Let me know, gonna be around (take a chance) If you’ve got no place to go, when you’re feeling down (take a chance) (Take a chance, take a, take a chance-chance) (Take a chance, take a, take a chance-chance)”

            The music slowly picked up, and a few of the braver kids stepped forward. Eris stood at the front with Thea and Farley, extending a sympathetic hand to the VKs. Beside them were Herod, Esme, Chad, Adrian, and Nazareen. All of the former troublemakers, the mentors, and the cursed people were willing to offer peace and a new start.

(Auradon Kids) “If you’re all alone when the pretty birds have flown Honey, I’m still free, take a chance on me.”

            At the front of the VKs, Uma, Celia, Gil, and Dizzy stepped out boldly. They were ready to take a chance on the Auradon kids and show them that they were worth the same chance. Hesitating a bit, but ultimately deciding to step up, were Giselle, Yvon, and Francis. They had been the VKs with the most dislike of the Auradon kids, but they, too, were following their parents’ footsteps, and they were ready for a new chance.

(VKs) “Gonna do my very best and it ain’t no lie If you put me to the test, if you let me try.”

            The Auradon kids held out their hands.

(Auradon Kids) “Take a chance on me.”

            The Isle kids took their hands, and the groups began to mix.

(VKs) “Take a chance on me.”

            (Y/N) smiled as they watched the dancing and squeezed Harry’s hand. They spun and shimmied with a wink.

(Y/N) “We can go dancing—” (All) “Oh-oh.”

            Harry pulled them close and swayed them.

(Harry) “We can go walking—” (All) “Yeah.”

            (Y/N) put their arms around his neck, and Harry lifted them for a spin.

(Y/N) “As long as we’re together.” (All) “As long as we’re together.”

            (Y/N) hummed as they were put down and spun away from him. They stood on the stairs and took a step down. Harry took a step after them.

(Y/N) “Listen to some music—” (All) “Oh-oh.”

            As (Y/N) took a step down the stairs, Harry took a step after them, perfectly in sync as they teased him with a chase.

(Harry) “Maybe just talking—” (All) “Yeah.”

            (Y/N) reached the bottom of the stairs to enter the larger dance group of VKs and Auradon kids. Harry caught up to them and grabbed them from behind, spinning them. They laughed and grinned, leaning back to kiss him on the cheek.

(Y/N) “Get to know you better.” (All) “Get to know you better.”

            Ben took Mal’s hand and pulled her to the stairs, ready to head down to their people.

(Ben) “ ‘Cause you know I’ve got, So much that I wanna do—”

            Mal grinned as she danced down the stairs with him.

(Mal) “When I dream I’m alone with you, it’s magic!”

            Evie and Doug skipped down the stairs (Y/N) and Harry had gone down, posing teogehter in a dramatic dip.

(Evie) “You want me to leave it there!” (Doug) “Afraid of a love affair!”

            Jane leaned on Carlos’s shoulder sweetly before pulling him down to the crowd.

(Jane) “But I think you know—” (Carlos) “That I can’t let go.”

            Everyone grabbed each other’s hands and began to dance around. They jumped and did the pretzel, twirling around one another.

(All) “If you change your mind, I’m the first in line, Honey, I’m still free, take a chance on me.”

            (Y/N) held Harry’s hands tightly as they danced, happy to be with their love and finally dancing in tandem with him with a happy future before them.

(All) “If you need me, let me know, gonna be around, If you’ve got no place to go, when you’re feeling down.”

            Doug and Evie spun onto the dancefloor, grabbing Ben and Mal to drag them along. Carlos and Jane pushed Lonnie and Jay together to dance before laughing.

(All) “If you’re all alone when the pretty birds have flown, Honey, I’m still free, take a chance on me.”

            Celia and Dizzy grabbed the hands of two Auradon girls, and the princesses and VKs laughed as they danced.

            The Auradon kids pointed at the VKs before bowing.

(Auradon Kids) “Gonna do my very best and it ain't no lie.”

            The VKs bowed in return and put a hand to their chest in a vow.

(VKs) “If you put me to the test, if you let me try.” (All) “Take a chance on me, Take a chance on me.”

            Harry and (Y/N) arrived at the middle of the crowd, and he spun them before getting onto one knee and spinning them back so they’d sit on his knee. They threw their head back and laughed.

(Harry) “Oh, you can take your time baby.” (All) “Oh-oh.” (Harry) “I’m in no hurry.” (All) “Yeah.”

            He winked and squeezed their waist.

(Harry) “Know I’m gonna get you.” (All) “Know I’m gonna get you.”

            As the crowd echoed his words, couples—old and new—grabbed each other’s hands. Mal and Ben clasped each other closed. Jane posed with Carlos as he break-danced. Lonnie and Jay showed each other their moves, grinning all the while. Doug and Evie jumped to the beat, looking only at one another.

            (Y/N) tipped Harry’s chin up with a sweet smile.

(Y/N) “You don’t wanna hurt me.” (All) “Oh-oh.” (Y/N) “Baby don’t worry.” (All) “Yeah.”

            (Y/N) winked at him, leaned in, and pecked his lips.

(Y/N) “I ain’t gonna let you.”

            They stood up and pulled him to his feet to dance once more. Harry held them close with a grin.

(All) “I ain’t gonna let you.”

            Again, the echo brought people together to dance. If anyone looked closely, they’d even see some unexpected pairs dancing. Gil and Herod were moving to the beat together. Eris had even shyly taken Uma’s hand when it was offered, but the moment Uma spun her, Eris was grinning and singing along with everyone else with confidence.

(All) “Let me tell you now!”

            Mal, Evie, (Y/N), Carlos, and Jay pointed at their respective partners with a grin.

(Mal, Evie, (Y/N), Carlos, Jay) “My love is strong enough! To last when things are rough!” (Auradon Kids and VKs) “It’s magic!”

            Ben, Doug, Harry, Jane, and Lonnie pointed back at their significant others.

(Ben, Doug, Harry, Jane, Lonnie) “You say that I waste my time, But I can’t get you off of my mind!”

            Their pointing hands became outstretched palms, and they pulled one another in.

(Mal, Evie, (Y/N), Carlos, Jay, Ben, Doug, Harry, Jane, Lonnie) “No, I can’t let go, ‘Cause I love you so.”

            They leaned in and kissed one another as the dancing continued in a swirl of color and joy around the clearing where they stood.

(All) “If you change your mind, I’m the first in line, Honey, I’m still free, Take a chance on me, If you need me, let me know, gonna be around, If you’ve got no place to go, when you’re feeling down.”

            The group in the middle took one another’s hands and began to dance. Gil and Uma came from the outside circle to join the giant circle of friendship, and their friends smiled at them as they glanced back and waved at Herod and Eris, who smiled back before joining the joyful dance around the courtyard. Apparently, a lot of people were getting new chances of all types.

(All) “If you’re all alone when the pretty birds have flown, Honey, I’m still free, take a chance on me, Gonna do my very best, baby can’t you see? Gotta put me to the test, take a chance on me, Take a chance, take a chance, take a chance on me.”

            The dancing wasn’t even organized, it was just people frolicking and loving the idea of being free to just be themselves, find friendship, find purple, find love.

(All) “Ba-ba-ba-ba-baa, ba-ba-ba-ba-baa, Honey, I’m still free, take a chance on me.”

            (Y/N) put their hand to their heart and smiled at Harry as he held them by the waist.

(Y/N) “Gonna do my very best, baby can’t you see?”

            They were promising to be who Harry deserved, his True Love. Harry took their hand from their heart and pressed it to his.

(Harry) “Gotta put me to the test, take a chance on me.”

            He was willing to show (Y/N) how much he loved them every day. He wasn’t afraid to love them. He would shout it to the world.

(All) “Take a chance, take a chance, take a chance on me.”

            The dancing was spreading through the courtyard, up onto the terraces, and into the buildings of Auradon. Everyone who hadn’t come to the announcement was pulled from their rooms, people were dancing on tables, people were using magic to bring flowers to life throughout the area, and the entire world was alive with joy.

(All) “Ba-ba-ba-ba-baa, ba-ba-ba-ba-baa, Honey, I’m still free, take a chance on me, Gonna do my very best, baby can't you see? Gotta put me to the test, take a chance on me, Ba-ba-ba-ba-baa, ba-ba-ba-ba-baa.”

            As the singing ended, people cheered and hugged one another. Couples embraced one another and kissed their partners. All around was love and happiness and hope, all ingredients for a new and better future.

            Harry drew (Y/N) close and gazed into their eyes. “I love you, Highness. Truly.”

            “I love you, pirate,” said (Y/N), hands lacing around his neck. “Forevermore.”

            “Truly and forevermore,” said Harry softly.

            “Truly and forevermore,” agreed (Y/N).

            Harry and (Y/N) leaned in and kissed one another. A future of love and joy stretched out before them. True Love thrummed with everlasting strength in their hearts.

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[prettyinpink69]

◆Nighttime kisses◆

Sevika×femme!reader

Word count: 1k, it was supposed to be short but... oh well

Smut MDNI

This could very well be absolutely terrible but I hope its not awful.. enjoy

Ever since you and sevika had adopted your daughter life had been great. Seeing Sevika run around with the little ball of energy so innocently, almost forgetting not more than a year ago she was still a 'murder-machine' for Silco. Luckily Silco wasn't completely cold-hearted and had granted Sevika time off work as a subtle hint of gratitude for her loyalty over the years.

You sat on a beaten down sun lounger on the roof of the apartment, the burning warmth if the sun hitting you pale skin. Watching as Sevika was chasing your daughter around pretending to be the 'big bad monster'. All that could be heard were giggles from the little one and the occasional growl from sevika along with a lot of heavy breathing. Even from yourself. You hadn't admitted it to Sevika but seeing her gaurd lowered as she became more comfortable with being a mother just did something to you, everytime she kissed your daughter on the nose or tucked her into bed... it made your stomach do twists which felt nice alongside the throbbing between your legs.

One thing neither of you had really thought about was just how little alone time you'd have together making your more intimate moments spread out super thin. Your lucky if you two got down to business more than once a week- which considering it was Sevika it practically felt like a year.

As you were lost in thought, watching your two girls run around the sun started to set. Your awakened from your daydream by Sevika. "Sweetheart? Its time to put this little rascal to bed." She said as she held your daughter in her arms, already half asleep. "Yeah.. yeah okay im coming baby." You follow her back down to the apartment and into your daughters room. You watch as she dresses your daughter into her favourite pyjamas- frozen of course. Both you and Sevika sit down on either side of the small girls bed as you tuck her in.

"Night mommy, night mama..." your daughters small voice calls out before her head hits the pillow and she practically falls asleep straight away. Not that either you or Sevika are complaining of course- that means no reading shitty children's books tonight. You watch as Sevika leans down to press a kiss to the little girls forehead and muttering, "sweet dreams babygirl, I love you." And there it was again, the throbbing ache between your legs. You need Sevika and you need her now. "Come on Sevi..." you whisper to avoiding waking the sleeping little one just feet away. As the two of you silently move out of the room, Sevika switches the light off and closes the door. She proceeds to follow you to the couch where you flop down so hard the couch almost moves. Your pent-up frustration starting to show.

Sevika being Sevika notices right away, you lived and hated the fact that she was amazing at reading people. "Come here." Sevika says as she pats her lap. Her tone was gentle but you knew it was a command. Seconds later you find yourself straddled over her muscly thighs, the heat pooling between your legs is almost unbearable. "Needy tonight hm? Whats gotten you so worked up?" She chuckles at how quick you moved. That damn mocking tone causing you to grind your cunt right against her leg. "Seeing you be so... motherly i-" This earns you a chuckle from Sevika, but before she can tease you any further a whimper slips from your lips. "Vika' please..." It comes out almost to breathy for your liking but the thoughts swimming around your mind block out any sense of embarrassment. Another talent Sevika had was knowing when to tease you and when you give you what you need, she could almost feel the need seeping out of you- she could definitely the wetness seeping through your panties onto her short-clad bare thigh.

Her teasing, commanding tone dropped once she heard how pathetically desperate you were for her, was being a mother making her soft? Maybe. "Let me take care of you sweetheart its okay, ive got you..." She grabs the hem of you dress and pushes it up and stuffs it into the underside of your bra, making sure it stays out of her way. "Sevi ple-" your cut off by her hand slipping into your white, arousal coated thong. The moan that escapes your lips is embarrassingly loud for such a simple touch, yet you felt touch-starved and this... this was heaven. Your manicured nails which were overdue an infill dig into the rough muscles of her shoulder as her calloused fingers collect your slick from you lips. Her two fingers expertly circle your clit and you feel like your on fire, your hips bucking against her hand as moan after moan falls from your lips. Sevika makes no move to hold you still or keep you quiet, she knew how bad you needed this from the way you were grinding down on her hand like you'd die if you didn't cum in the next minute.

Her two large fingers gently squeeze your clit sending shockwaves of pleasure from your core to your brain. Your head falls forward to rest on her shoulder as you hump her hand like a dog in heat. "Fuck- sev please dont stop I'm gonna-" your own moan cuts you off as Sevika moves her attention away from your clit and stuffs the two fingers into your cunt. You bite down on her shoulder to somewhat try and keep the noise to a minimum considering your daughter is asleep two rooms over. "Shh sweatheart, let go for me... your doing so good for me hm? Good girl.." the small sprinkle of praise sends you over the edge, your cunt clamping around her fingers, as if they're sucking them in. You muffle ypur moans into her shoulder as you cum, your slick wetness just covering her hand and thigh, your own thighs not looking any better. Her movements slow and slow as you ride it out until she removes her fingers, bringing them to lips to suck them clean. "Taste so sweet baby... just like honey"

"Vika'... n-need more..." your plea's for more only earns you a deep, low chuckle from Sevika. She grips the back of your thighs and effortlessly lifts you in her arms. "You didn’t seriously think i was done with you yet did you baby?.." and that was when you knew... she's gonna make sure you never feel this pent up again...

[checosbluespring]

you are my everything → sp11

sergio "checo" perez x wife!fem reader

genre: established relationship, hurt/comfort, shower sex

cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, p in v, slight angst, slight possessiveness, dirty talk, pls let me know if i am forgetting anything

word count: 1.6k

song: tommy & pamela - peso pluma

sidenote: hi everyone!! i have not uploded in so long but this has been in my drafts for a while so i though i would finally finish it up and post it. i miss checo so bad but i genuinly hope he is enjoying life right now, he deserves it and so much more. please let me know if y'all have any ideas or requests for a fic (I write for all drivers including indycar) and marvel/9-1-1, also not beta read. hope you all enjoy <3

♡♡♡♡

Sometimes you hated being married to an athlete, especially an athlete who risks their life every time they work. This was the second time this year alone you had witnessed your husband Sergio get in a really bad accident. The first was in Monaco and now in Baku. This crash terrified you. It happened out of nowhere and all of a sudden you see your husband crushed up against the wall. You feel a pit in your stomach start to form and tears start to well in your eyes. Everyone in the paddock is looking at you.

You feel a bit of relief when you see him jump out of the car, looking seemingly fine. You knew though that he would be pissed. You silently thank yourself for not letting your kids come to this race because they shouldn't have to see their dad hurt. Although you know that they are probably watching the race and that you should call and tell them their dad is okay.  You decide to try and find him before he is taken to the stewards and has a team meeting. 

Pushing through crowds of people you make it to the front of the garage and see Sergio, walking fast into RB’s hospitality. Part of you knows his emotions are high and he's angry so you want to leave him but you need to check on him. 

Just as you venture off to go find him, your phone dings and you see a text from him.

I'm fine Amor, we will be fine. Please go back to the hotel room. We are going to be here for a while and I don't want you just waiting. Go get dinner and call the kids. I'll be back as soon as everything is done. Te amo mucho mi reina.

You feel a bit disappointed as you read the text, but you know he's doing what's best for you and himself at the moment. All that matters is that he's okay and you are willing to back off until you see him later tonight. 

You catch a ride back to the hotel and make yourself comfortable. You call your kids and reassure them that their dad was okay and that he would call them as soon as possible. 

While you wait for your husband to make it back, you decide to take a shower and order some dinner for the both of you. It was incredibly hot at the race and a fresh shower was all you needed to feel a bit better after the emotionally draining day you've had. 

Time is passing by very slowly, you've already eaten, showered, watched a movie. You keep looking at the time on your phone, it reads 8:00, but it's been radio silence on your husband's end.

Another hour passes and you finally track his location to see where he is. You see that he's finally leaving the track and on the way back to the hotel. 

30 minutes pass before you hear the door unlock and open. You sit up and watch as your husband walks in and takes off his shoes. 

“Amor…” you speak, but are quickly cut off by Sergio saying “babe, I know you have been waiting all night for me, and I love you so much but can I please shower first and then we'll talk”. You nod your head and that's all he needs to start undressing and heading to the shower. He closes the door and you hear the water start. 

Knowing that he's so close but still so far away builds a fire in you. You need to talk to him, be close to him, feel him. You make the split decision to walk into the bathroom and confront him. Your plan is to just sit on the floor, and ask him questions that's all you need. 

As you walk in you see droplets of water run down his toned back, everything is steamy in the room, further adding to the flush on your cheeks. Seeing your husband naked shouldn't make you so hot and bothered but it does, the way his shoulders flex, his long legs, and broad back. 

Something snaps inside of you and you decide to take your clothes off, you’ve already showered but you needed this. Opening the door you slip in right behind him and hug his back. Instead of breaking away from the touch he embraces it, pulling you in closer.

“I’m sorry mi amor, I was just so upset and I didn’t want you to have to see that side of me, you or the kids” he says while turning to face you.

“I know baby, I know but you have to talk to me, let me know that you are okay, I was terrified that something happened” you respond.

He nods and says “ I know I’ll always keep you updated. you and the kids are my top priority always”

Satisfied with his response you place your head on his chest and hug his hips loosely. Peering up at him you ask “are you sore?”.

He nods “my back and neck are killing me, but nothing a good massage couldn’t fix” he winks down at you. You laugh at his response but feel a pit form in your stomach when he says he’s hurt. 

“Let me take care of you” you say as you turn him around and grab the shampoo to wash his hair. You silently thank the hotel for having a removable shower head so you can properly wash Sergio up. Taking your time you run your hands up and down his body, your final resting place being a firm grip on his beautiful cock. 

You have seen male genitalia in different forms but nothing ever compares to how pretty and satisfying your husband’s is. You grab some conditioner in your hand and slowly flick your wrist up his length, pulling a soft moan from his lips. “Fuck it’s been so long since you’ve had your hands on me”. You silently nod, it really had been too long. With you and him separated most of the season, you find yourself craving him more and more with each hour you are apart. 

“I’ve missed your cock so much, my fingers don’t compare to yours” you whisper into his neck. 

Your husband reaches down in between your legs and shoves two fingers in you simultaneously. It doesn’t hurt from how wet you are but, you know that you have to be tight because the last time you’ve had something in there was a couple of weeks ago when Sergio was able to come home for the weekend. 

“Mierda you are so tight, you need my cock in you don’t you?” 

You nod desperately, all you need is to feel him inside of you. Next thing you know Sergio is pulling his fingers out of you, placing a heated kiss on your lips and tightly gripping your hips to turn you around so that you're facing the glass wall of the shower and your ass is presented perfectly for him. 

“Fuck look at this big ass, it’s all mine right baby? It’s mine to fuck nobody else” you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each filthy word that comes out of him mouth. You aren’t necessarily into ass play but you do love how obsessed your husband is with yours. 

“Fuck me please Sergio, I want you so bad” 

Sergio spreads you open and slowly thrusts into you. The burn is undescribable. But also one of the best feelings ever. He grabs your hips like a vice, making sure to leave bruises for the following days. He slowly rocks into you, as you try to find any piece of dry surface to grab onto so you don’t slip. Moving your hips backwards you start to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck, it feels so good” you grit out through your teeth. 

Sergio grips a handful of your hair and pulls you flush against him. He attacks your neck leaving a trail of soft kisses and hard bites. 

You start to feel that familiar sensation in your pelvis, desperately wanting more you trail your hand down to your clit and start rubbing circles in hopes to get you across the finish line. 

Sergio sees this and pounds into you hard and fast. If he keeps up this pace you are gonna come in minutes, you look back at him and whisper “just like that”.

He understands and keeps going at that pace and suddenly you feel something snap inside you and you are cumming all over his cock. You lose feeling in your legs and your knees start to buckle, Sergio keeps you steady while still trusting in you. The overstimulation getting to be too much, your husband notices and says “too much baby?” You nod and he pulls out finishing the job with his hand around his cock. 

His hand grabs your hip to keep you in place and he shoots his load all over your ass, he cums with a quite fuck and leans his head over your shoulder while he catches his breath. 

After a few seconds of pure blissful silence, your husband speaks up “thank you amor, I truly don’t know how I got so lucky to have you as my wife. I love you and nothing will ever change that” you feel yourself getting choked up because it’s not common for Sergio to get sentimental like this but you turn to face him and hug him, whispering a quiet I love you. 

At the end of the day no matter how worried you are about his job, you would always support him, and honestly life couldn’t get better than this. 

[clairewritesfanfics]

But you weren't her.

Pairing: (LADS x Non-MC!Reader)

"I love you."

When he said those sweet words that were reserved for the Main Character, you pretended not to hear.

Of course you knew that he meant them, even if only a bit. You weren’t confident in your ability to attract others but you were too old to be naive. It was only natural that a lonely man would fall for the first person to give him a shred of warmth, especially since you spent so much time together. You have no doubt that his feelings were true, but for how long? From the other side of the fourth wall, it was easy to be certain about everything, that his love will withstand every storm for the great heroine. But what of you? In your world, no one can say with absolute certainty that romantic love was so pure and kind and strong. Men and women across various periods swore oaths, sang songs and wrote poetry of it since time immemorial, but did anyone actually find love everlasting? Maybe. But it was a concept too out of reach for you. 

One would have a higher chance meeting a mythological creature than finding true love. 

People back in the “real world” playfully called you bitter and resentful, without a drop of romance in your body, but they had it backwards: it was because you were a hopeless romantic that you doubted every piece of tenderness you received. Healthy, boring, so-called ideal relationships would never be enough. You didn’t want cheap affection, you yearned for the raw, all-consuming, time-withstanding love worthy of immortalization, not unlike the one the main character has with her love interests. 

So even if this world was a living breathing reality on its own without a predestined ending, you were still just an NPC. Yes, a supporting character. Nothing more. If you allow yourself to dream any more than that, you’ll get greedy and when his real beloved comes along, or if he finds out the ugly parts of you, you will be left with nothing but a broken heart. 

He called your name and you couldn't ignore him anymore.

Forcing yourself the brightest, gentlest smile possible, you turned to face him. “You shouldn't carelessly throw those words around, otherwise misunderstandings will happen.”

Before he could reply, you looked away again so he couldn't see your lips trembling. "Don’t worry, you’ll meet someone better than you could ever hope for."

That's right, someone literally tailored to his taste and who complements him in every way. Someone who wasn't you.

A/N: It involves a non-MC reader so I hope you enjoy it! I'll be exploring the concept in the future, especially with Sylus because I don't know how to do it with the others yet lol. I wasn't supposed to post this but I just needed to share it with the world.

Edit: had to change a few things to avoid confusion.

@phisen @leryg0 @capribun @sinnamon-bunn @wegottastayfocus @erisnxxi

[pseudowho]

I’m 19 turning 20 soon, any advice for these roaring twenties? Almost everyone I know said it was the worst years of their life… so I’m kinda hoping for some other input, lol. And also advice on how to not feel like I wasted my teen years and I missed out on being young and stress free 🥲 thank you thank you, adore your work, mwah

In your twenties, you should seek to know yourself, down to the very nitty gritty of you. You should embrace both your strengths and your flaws, and being able to talk about them. You should be able to recognise them in action, and route the waters accordingly. You should, first and foremost, try to make the good stuff great, and manage the bad stuff so it's a small enough part of you to fit into the post-script. It's there; but it comes up from time to time. It's there; but it's not the main part of you.

You didn't waste your teen years. You were growing up, baby. Modern media hyperfetishises extreme youth; it has been strictly targeted at making sure you feel old by the time you're 25. They're dirty fucking liars; the benefit from your anxiety and insecurity. Don't be conned: you're better than that. A word to the wise: if you peaked at 20, that's desperately sad. You should rise, instead, like a firework; never to fall, simply to go up and up and up, and BANG! in a burst of fire and fantasticals in your final moment. In other words? You're peaking on your deathbed, baby. You're going to rise.

Learn to apologise. No, listen: learn to apologise. Learn to reflect on your failings. Learn to swallow the shame and the guilt and crawl through treacle to own up to it. Learn to look back on your worst moments, and be sincere in your remorse, and look on how to make yourself better after. How many grown adults do you know who really, truly apologise? And how many do you know who deny, or accuse, or begrudge? 'nuff said.

Grow. Take every and any opportunity for growth. Like the firework, yes? Rise!

Change is good. Embrace it. Learn to be able to say "I used to think XYZ, but now I know better."

Research a bunch of non-biased news apps from around the world; also news apps which align strictly against your own worldview. Do not shield yourself from 'spin', or alternative opinions, or straight up disinformation. For example, I identify as an Anarcho-Socialist/Left-wing Libertarian. Do I also have extremely Right Wing news sources on my phone? You fucking bet I do. It is incredible how much you can glean from national and world events, all on how different news sources have spun the same event.

Stay up to date with global and national news. You will find yourself altogether worldlier, far less naive and far less likely to be mugged off by people, news and politics.

Kindness is almost always the correct first response.

Empathy does not mean 'putting yourself in someone else's shoes'. Empathy is a far, far deeper beast than this.

Plenty of people don't have your best interests at heart; become wiser. Learn to know when to distance yourself from those who seek to break you.

And from @mrhaitch, who has effortlessly sounded like Nanami Kento once again...

Don't assume that where you are now, is where you will always be. You may leave some paths behind for others; this does not mean that you've failed on the first path. It means that the path isn't right for you now, and in this moment. Embrace those opportunities for change and variation.

And...

...enjoy yourself. I am far, far happier aged 31 than I was aged 21.

All my love, baby,

And remember:

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

[klausysworld]

(I’ve made this story so that Y/N is a blind girl. I had this idea in my head for a while and I hope that people who aren’t able to read my stories are able to hear them ☺️🩷)

To Feel Is To See

Klaus had found solace in admiring her.

He could tell she was blind, it’s not something one could really hide and she didn’t want to hide it anyways. In a twisted way he enjoyed knowing that she couldn’t see him.

It meant that he could watch her from afar without her knowing. He could see how effortlessly she glided through the busy streets of New Orleans, people would move out of her way whether she had her mobility cane or not. 

Her hair was always perfect, never a strand out of place. Her skin glowing and her outfits always complimenting her day in and day out.

There was just a comfortable air around her which he was drawn to. She seemed so light with each step, it put him at ease.

Safe; she seemed safe.

Klaus would sit quietly at his table, sketching away whilst systematically glancing up to check Y/N was still typing away on her laptop with her headphones in.

It took a good few weeks but eventually he started ordering the coffee she liked and having it sent over to her. 

He loved how she’d smile and he’d wonder where all his usual arrogance and confidence would vanish to when it came to her. 

Klaus hadn’t been paying attention when she approached him, her hand resting on his shoulder making him jump a little and quickly turn his sketch pad over only to look up at see her sweet face facing him. 

“Hi.” She greeted, a small smile on her lips, “You’ve been sending me drinks?” She asked, though it was quite clear that she already knew the answer. 

Klaus pushed himself out of his seat to take her hand from his shoulder and squeeze it gently.

“Yes, sweetheart. I’ve been sending them.” He admitted, a small lump forming in his throat as he fought the urge to touch her face. 

“And you’ve been staring?” Her head tilted and her tone was a little more accusatory. “In the streets.” She added, her hand pulling away from his as she folded her arms over her chest.

“Well-” He cleared his throat. Klaus was ever so slightly thankful that she couldn’t see his cheeks getting pinker. “How did you..” His brow furrowed and she huffed.

“Just because I can’t see you doesn’t mean I can’t feel those eyes of yours.” 

“Right, of course.” He muttered.

Klaus felt a little embarrassed with himself. 

Thankfully for him Y/n didn’t mind.

Luckily she wasn’t creeped out. 

Somehow, with a couple stumbles, Klaus managed to ask her on a date.

On his way home he only sighed to himself with slight humiliation.

Perhaps knowing that he couldn’t charm her with a simple smirk.

Most women would fall at his feet from the way he looked at them, they’d find him perfectly handsome and be all over him but with Y/N he had to show her build an attraction. 

Now after a thousand years Klaus had gotten very good with his words and his ways but it was harder to say them than it was to write it down. Usually a love poem would make a lady swoon but he couldn’t expect her to read a handwritten letter. 

So instead he studied braille and mimicked it by sticking push dots onto a sheet of paper to express his words. The paper was then cut into the shape of a heart and carefully transferred into her eager hands.

His cheeks practically glew red as he watched the joy paint her face as her fingertips ran across each letter. 

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” She beamed, the card was clutched tightly in her hand as she hesitantly opened her arm out a little. Klaus stepped forward quickly to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her into embrace. 

Y/N remained there for a moment before pulling back a little and smiling, “You smell nice.” She commented shyly and he grinned, his wolf almost purring as he fought the urge to nuzzle into her neck and hair. 

“So do you, love. You smell sweet like vanilla.” He murmured to her, his voice low near her ear making her shiver a little and reluctantly pull from his grasp. 

From there Klaus pulled the menus out and passed her one, he’d been too focussed on making the letter to remember that not restaurants were considerate enough to make braille menus. His expression dropped a little as he opened his and saw only words, he looked up quickly but Y/N hadn’t even bothered to open hers, she knew it wasn’t there. 

“Sorry,” His voice uttered, the lump in his throat back as he gently pulled her closer round the booth. “I’ll read it to you.” He insisted, his hand rubbing her arm comfortingly.

“It’s okay, I can just have something simple.” She brushed it off but he wouldn’t allow it.

He wouldn’t let her feel embarrassed that he had to read the dishes aloud to her, he took his time to explain each one until she was sure on the one she’d like the most. 

Apart from that the date went smoothly, they spoke a lot and enjoyed their meals before Klaus walked her home and up the stairs in her apartment block. He would worry with every step, the few little trips of her feet made his heart leap but the elevator was out of order, he almost bought her a bungalow as soon as he got home but he had to remind himself that he couldn’t scare her off. He needed to be normal.

As normal as a thousand year old original hybrid could be. 

Going out for lunch and dinner was taking the easy route, Klaus had realised.

He needed to be more creative.

Which was how they ended up in a pottery class for beginners, his hands guiding hers as they tried to create a heart shaped bowl. Klaus smiled to himself as he watched her trace the rim, checking the shape while he rested his chin on her shoulder. 

Over the weeks they went back a lot, ending up with a cupboard full of bowls, cups, plates and shelves of cute little ornaments. 

A couple times they’d tried baking, Klaus learnt after the first time to be on the lookout for any holes in the flour bag. 

They’d cooked together and Klaus quickly learnt that Y/N had exquisite taste, always being bang on when it came to flavours. Klaus would always be grabbing her taste testing spoon for her to check the sauce.

He couldn’t ever stop himself from gazing at her and she’d always remind him that she could feel his eyes. He hadn’t really thought too much about how she might see him until she asked.

“How…how do you look?” Y/N had asked, her voice almost hesitant when she did so.

Klaus looked down at her, they’d been led against each other and watching tv when she’d spoken up.

“My face?” He questioned, shifting a little to face her as she nodded. Klaus tried to explain his features but his words were clumsy and unclear, eventually he just sighed and tried to think of another way to show her. 

“You can feel” He mumbled faintly, his eyes glancing to her fingers before his hands gently grabbed her wrists and brought them to his neck.

Her head nodded and her hands pressed to his skin, fingertips gently gliding over the little moles making her smile as she followed up to his jaw. Klaus filled with warmth as he felt her hands feel across the stubble of his cheeks, her index finger slide along the slope of his nose before both hands following the curve of his eyebrows to pinpoint his eyes. Klaus’s gaze softened completely when her eyes seemed to look right into his.

“You said they’re blue?” She whispered, “Like how cold feels?” 

“Yeah…” He mumbled faintly, leaning into her touch as she traced across his forehead, giggling at the lines in his skin making him chuckle softly too. 

A small hum left him as she brushed his hair back, combing the curls between her fingers. 

“Blonde? Like how the sun feels on my skin?” She asked and he nodded, his head moving between her hands as she felt the shape of his ears. 

Slowly her hands slid back to her lap and her eyes drifted away from his as she smiled. 

“You’re beautiful.” She told him and he cupped her face, pressing a kiss to her lips.

“I wish you could see how perfect you are, but you’ll just have to make do with my words.” He murmured and she laughed softly.

“You tell me every day, how could I forget?” 

“I’ll make sure you never do.” He mumbled, his lips finding her jaw and neck with ease. “Your beauty is everlasting, in your face and in your soul.” 

In response Y/N pushed her face into his chest, making him cup the back of her head. “Don’t cry sweetheart.” He whispered, his other arm pulling her onto his lap. Klaus nuzzled into her hair and breathed out through his nose. 

Often her senses could overwhelm her a little but Klaus’s words always managed to push her over the edge. He always had such darling things to say or to write, to show her.

He’d show her every inch of the world in as many ways as he could manage.

He’d do anything for her.

[bear-remn]

୨ৎ Valentines day special v1 ୨ৎ

hi! heres the firts part of the valentines special, im so excited to start pósting again with this little series, so i hope you gals enjoy it as much as i did making it! ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ੈ♡‧₊

︵‿ ⊹ ︵‿୨ ♡ ୧‿︵ ⊹ ‿︵

the night was calm, the full moon shiny on the deep blue eyes, the waves were soothing to hear. shu had taken kirari to the beach, a place she had never been nefore, as shu rested on a chair with his feet on the sand, kirari came toward him and sat on his lap.

"was the sea good?" he ask as his hads came to her waist and legs to hug her.

"its perfect, i tought it will be cold but it was amazing" her heart for some reason was beating faster than usual, she wasnt sure if it was because of the new place she was visiting, the sea, a place she tought was only to see on movies, or it was the fact that shu wanted her to see new things, it was strange to her but it felt so right.

"blue suits you well" shu commented as his hand on her leg touched the silky fabric of her dress "did you wanted to match the sea perhaps? or the night sky?" a soft smile appeard on his lips.

"not really..." she said softly, she hold his face and came closer to look into her eyes, she loved those deep and pretty eyes, for kirari, shu had the pretties and most hypnotizing eyes she had ever seen in her life, she couldnt put it into words but she feelt like shu eyes the only part of his body where she could see him naked, if that maked any sense "i actually wanted to match your eyes..." kiraris voice came a little embarassed, she is not the type to complement, she only does it to shu but, not so much.

"my eyes?" his low tone maked her skin get chills, and as kirari saw shu eyes as the most calming and deep way of his soul, shu could see the burning desire into her yelloish eyes, like a big and strong flame burning everything she sees and touch, at firts it was a little scary how deep she could go with so little, but shu got used to it and find it a home, a partner he actually want to keep and proctect of everyone and everything "the nails too?"

"if i am matching it mush be well done, is innit?" she smiled.

"the cutesy of humans keeps surprising me, why the need to match huh?" shu didnt get why humans acted like that and call it romantic, it was odd for him but he enjoy it, shu loves every little detail kirari does for him.

"because... i dont know, i love your eyes and it feels like i..." she bited her tongue before saying it, she understand better how vampires loved, so her way to be romantic and show people they were a couple its not the same as them, but she can handle it "like if i belong to you... in some way" shus fangs flashed as he laughs.

shu its not easy to make happy to the point of laughing, but shu couldnt help but to fin hilarious how kirari always bring that up, it was a little romantic for him but it was still funny to him.

"stop laughing!"

"so you say youre mine?" shu said with a smirk.

"i wont say it again"

"i wont laught i promise"

"youre just making fun of me!"

"im not"

they stay quiet for a little until both of them smiled.

"youre pretty like that" shu said as he hold her close.

"youre dumb"

"am i?" he said smiling, he liked these kind of moment, anoying kirari was a good hobbie, everything with kirari was better "im just in love"

kiraris cheeks grow red and her smile was hard to hide, just hearing him say that sentence, was enought for her to be happy, was enough to make her soul flutter, this kind of moments make her excited to spend eternity with him, together until their bones becomes dust and hell receive their souls as one.

"i love you, shu"

kirari looked into his eyes, drowning her soul with those killer blue eyes.

[codnasties]

see i’m not personally fond of cnc, but i can see that you do enjoy to write it as well as most of your readers enjoy it, and you usually put a warning on it so i still don’t understand why people have such a problem with it, the title LITERALLY says cnc. if people don’t like it, then they just need to not click on it. i do hope one day you do start to write and release it again, anyways have a wonderful rest of your day and stay healthy love!

i do personally love writing cnc because it's a kink i enjoy, so i fully understand people that like it too. i also get that people may not like it or even find it repulsive. what i do not get is people that send unkind words because i decide to write it, specially when it's quite easy to stop seeing this kind of content. i will write it again for sure! when? don't really know, but for now i want to spare myself, mainly mentally, of what it involves and being in the receiving end of those words. i even have some fully written cnc scenarios in my drafts and want to post them, but when the time is right :)

thanks a lot babes 💕 hope you also have a wonderful day

[ariel-simslover]

Sims 2 Default Guide!

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Hello everyone! Welcome to what I hope becomes a go-to stop in people's Sims 2 Modding journey. I was inspired by @acottonsocksims2 Mod's Master list, to make one for Default Replacements/Overrides.

I Like many others enjoy Modernizing The Sims 2, and I hope this post of many Links to beautiful Defaults and Overrides will help others easily do so. I know It can be a pain to go out and find everything!

So here's a Master list of several Defaults and Overrides I love!

Part 2 in the works

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Please note that I play with Ultimate Collection, So I'm not sure if these will work for Legacy Collection. Please be careful!

These aren't mine, Credits to all the Mod/Cc creators.

Sim Defaults

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Hair/Clothing

For hair and Clothing, I'd recommend the Default Database. It has all the Hair and clothing in every pack, and a List of defaults for each one. Remember only one Default per hair or clothing item

https://sims2defaults.dreamwidth.org/

If you don't want to go One buy one here are some Hair Default Dumps (Only Install one) @dreadpirate @spookymuffinsims & @platinumaspiration

https://www.tumblr.com/dreadpirate/181776211667/the-big-hair-default-dump-so-i-tried-out-the-hair

https://spookymuffinsims.tumblr.com/post/611290311879180288/ive-been-chipping-away-at-this-for-a-while-and

https://www.tumblr.com/platinumaspiration/735878637799260160/when-i-say-basically-everything-i-mean-basically (Clay/TS4 Hair)

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Eyes Defaults

I currently use these eyes from @dreadpirate

https://dreadpirate.tumblr.com/post/182237172607/curiousb-magic-theatre-recolors-defaults-this-is

These are also nice ones from @poppet-sims

https://poppet-sims.tumblr.com/post/154081920423

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Skin Defaults @lilith-sims @noodlesims

https://www.tumblr.com/lilith-sims/168912268918/merry-christmas-honey-honey-skinblend-hi?source=share

https://noodlesims.tumblr.com/post/153461204007/honey-apple-crisp-i-made-this-blend-for-my-own

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Brows&Beards

These Brows are the ones I use in my game! @peppermint-ginger

https://peppermint-ginger.tumblr.com/post/152649763649/im-currenly-in-love-in-crystaldollhouses-maxis

These Brows will Match the ST4/Clay hairs

https://www.tumblr.com/tvickiesims/736164238551400448/4t2-brow-default-replacement

Beards I Currently use!

https://simgigglegirl.tumblr.com/post/175474271138/facial-hair-defaults-in-poppet-sims-v2-colours

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Sunburn & Overheat txtr Default @pforestsims

https://pforestsims.tumblr.com/post/763220903817510912/sunburn-overheat-txtr-default

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Neighborhood Defaults

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Trees/Landscaping

Linden Trees are a Beautifull Replacement @criquette-was-here

https://criquette-was-here.tumblr.com/post/631601714436423680/basic-linden-trees-redux-default-replacements

Matching Linden Tree Defaults for Other Trees @sixfootsims & @dilya-simblr

https://sixfootsims.tumblr.com/post/640878205133275136/well-heres-my-first-post-on-this-blog-so-i (Birch Trees)

https://dilya-simblr.tumblr.com/post/754557683131121664/recolor-lowedeus-redbud-default-replacement (RedBud Tree)

Pine Trees that Pair well @lowedeus & @osab

https://lowedeus.tumblr.com/post/638682683409596416/tscs-seasonal-pines-as-base-game-nhood-pines (Singal Tree)

https://osab.tumblr.com/post/730348474001981440 (Forest/Grouped up Trees)

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Roads

I love these roads from @peppermint-ginger and these are ones in my game right now

https://peppermint-ginger.tumblr.com/post/651282462350180352/download-simfileshare-236-mb-mega-225 (Also use the concrete Default that comes with)

Hornabel Mentoin to @lordcrumps road defaults that I've also used and loved

https://www.tumblr.com/lordcrumps/683260019510296576/sims-2-default-hood-road-replacements-hello-i

Terrain

I mix and Match my terrain! Just make sure you pick one for each terrain type Dirt, Lush, Desert, Concrete.

For concrete, I use the one for the Pepermint&Ginger roads Linked Above.

https://peppermint-ginger.tumblr.com/post/159638009174/download-link-info-previews-and-credits-under (Desert)

https://curiousb.dreamwidth.org/28103.html (Dirt&Lush)

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Hood View Car Defaults @criquette-was-here

Make sure to Install the required hood Deco linked in the post

https://criquette-was-here.tumblr.com/post/613768227591520256/busy-roads-nh-traffic-default-replacement-with

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Lot and Hood Water Default

https://modthesims.info/d/587597/pond-amp-sea-water-overhaul.html

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Objects Defaults

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Potion Bottle Default

https://modthesims.info/d/665049/buyable-potions-and-bottle-defaults.html

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Baby Bottel Defaults

https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims2-sets-objects/title/baby-bottle-replacement/id/808577/

https://modthesims.info/d/657515/baby-bottle-default-replacement.html

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Computer Screen Defaults @eddysims

https://eddysims.tumblr.com/post/137515511194

https://modthesims.info/d/447752

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Burglar/Fire Alarm/Phone Default @ivy-sims

https://ivy-sims.tumblr.com/post/154531322046/okay-for-our-first-holiday-gift-i-had-the

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Book Cover Defaults @simsinlowspace @episims

https://modthesims.info/d/573630/default-book-covers-and-novel-icons.html

https://simsinlowspace.tumblr.com/post/690252850403688448/too-fond-of-books-book-cover-defaults

https://www.tumblr.com/episims/632604557508247552/book-cover-default-replacements-i-wanted-to-swap

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Newspaper Defaults @alienpod @episims

https://www.tumblr.com/episims/679812708176134144/newspaper-default-replacement

https://alienpod.tumblr.com/post/649110703203074048/default-replacement-textures-for-the-games

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Coffee/Espresso Cup Defaults @jacky93sims @gingerplaysthesims @alienpod

https://jacky93sims.tumblr.com/post/698472568078876672/a-coffee-mug-replacement-for-the-sims-2

https://gingerplaysthesims.tumblr.com/post/664408495981051904/coffee-mug-espresso-cup-defaults-its-been-a-hot

https://alienpod.tumblr.com/post/651004939477385216

https://www.tumblr.com/jacky93sims/698110312128430080/buffsum-espressocup-replacement-for-the-sims-2

https://jacky93sims.tumblr.com/post/697759784853749760/ts2-espresso-cup-default-replacement

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Flower Bouquet form Flower Arranging tabel Default @tvickiesims

https://tvickiesims.tumblr.com/post/762152092103229440/ofb-bouquets-default-replacement

Date Reward Flowers Default @pforestsims

https://www.tumblr.com/pforestsims/726267095973773312/ts2-roses-default

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Magazine Defaults

https://modthesims.info/d/666078/base-game-magazine-default-replacements.html#google_vignette (Base Game)

https://modthesims.info/d/666079/freetime-hobby-magazine-default-replacements.html (Free Time)

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Cellphone Default @episims

https://www.tumblr.com/episims/639398792908718080/cellphone-default-replacement-anyone-in-the-mood

Handheld Game Default

https://modthesims.info/d/655263/handheld-game-default-replacement.html

Mp3 Player Default @andrevasims @tvickiesims

https://www.tumblr.com/andrevasims/757672324543709184/mp3-player-default-recolorable

https://www.tumblr.com/tvickiesims/761517768368685057/edited-mp3-player-default-color-trait-support?source=share

Electronic Kiosk Default @lordcrumps

https://www.tumblr.com/lordcrumps/761548299076567040/4t2-electronic-kiosk-replacement

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Engagement Ring Defaults @pforestsims

https://pforestsims.tumblr.com/post/726726785099857920/ts2-engagement-ring-defaults (Ring)

https://pforestsims.tumblr.com/post/695290999382097920/default-replacement-for-the-sims-2-engagement-ring (Box)

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Homework Defaults @moyokeansimblr @nniesims @Simstralia

https://moyokeansimblr.tumblr.com/post/686364768305627136/homework-default-replacements

https://nniesims.tumblr.com/post/659576629290516480/default-replacement-homework-for-children-i-had-a

https://simstralia.tumblr.com/post/635901007232188416/once-i-finished-off-my-teen-ya-defaults-i-knew

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Diary Defaults @episims @isimchi

https://www.tumblr.com/episims/189613600847/a-couple-months-ago-midgethetree-made-this-handy

https://modthesims.info/d/626756/diary-default-replacement.html

https://isimchi.tumblr.com/post/735825299031425024/youll-still-need-midges-re-enabled-diary

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Bingo Game Default @pforestsims

https://pforestsims.tumblr.com/post/753365279786123264/bingo-default

Poker Table @pforestsims

https://www.tumblr.com/pforestsims/700253435966193664/ts2-poker-tables-cards-default

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Watering Can Default @episims @pforestsims

https://episims.tumblr.com/post/761604186805764096/various-accessories-by-color-traits

https://modthesims.info/d/655297/watering-can-default-replacement.html

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Guitar Default @pforestsims

https://pforestsims.tumblr.com/post/746730345209151488/ts2-uberuvguitar-replacement?is_related_post=1

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Champagne/Toasting Flute Default @pforestsims

https://pforestsims.tumblr.com/post/737495246463713280/functional-champagne-default

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Drafting Table Default @pforestsims

https://pforestsims.tumblr.com/post/723095778895233025/ts2-free-time-drafting-table-default

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Restaurant Serving Tray Default @pforestsims

https://www.tumblr.com/pforestsims/719495979074732032/ts2restaurant-cloche-default?source=share

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Restaurant Menu Defaults @teaaddictyt @moyokeansimblr @simsinlowspace

https://modthesims.info/d/658621/restaurant-menu-default-replacement.html

https://www.tumblr.com/teaaddictyt/709664465777459200/sims-2-restaurant-menu-default

https://moyokeansimblr.tumblr.com/post/690342646280044544/restaurant-menu-default-replacement

https://simsinlowspace.tumblr.com/post/692127821525647360/leaf-bean-cafe-style-menu-default

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Nectar Bar Default @pforestsims

https://pforestsims.tumblr.com/post/711677795816914944/nectar-bar-mesh-default-can-be-used-on-its-own (Bar)

https://pforestsims.tumblr.com/post/711397891649011712/ts2-nectar-bar-tumbler-default (Drinks)

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Mop Default @jacky93sims

https://www.tumblr.com/jacky93sims/746822005650800640/mop-default-replacement-for-the-sims-2

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MailBox Defaults @alienpod @episims

https://alienpod.tumblr.com/post/648733944554110976/default-replacement-for-the-residential-mailbox

https://www.tumblr.com/episims/748752576131072000/mailbox-mesh-default-replacement

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Trashcan Default @tvickiesims

The mailbox default from Alienpod above also has a trash can default

https://tvickiesims.tumblr.com/post/743946799960686592/community-lot-trash-can-default-replacement

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LoveTub Default @pforestsims

https://pforestsims.tumblr.com/post/691931616608698368/ts2-love-tub-replacement

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Dorm Door Default @moyokeansimblr

https://moyokeansimblr.tumblr.com/post/730465375327764480/myne-door-defaults

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Easel Painting Defaults @kahlenas

https://kahlenas.tumblr.com/post/158786515773/default-replacements-for-easel-paintings-come-in

https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims2-sets-objects/title/default-replacements--easel-paintings-country/id/858762/

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Community Lot Phone Defaults @tvickiesims @hugelunatic

https://www.tumblr.com/tvickiesims/731531024891330561/community-phone-default-replacement

https://sims2artists.com/index.php?topic=3828.0

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UI Defaults

White Ui @greatcheesecakepersona

https://greatcheesecakepersona.tumblr.com/post/190825573525/download-clean-ui-post-updated-011121

Pink Ui @simstate

https://simstate.tumblr.com/post/691146351729311744/pink-ui-download-v10

Black Ui @simstate

https://simstate.tumblr.com/post/666588786747113472/starship-ui-download

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Skill Bar Default @pforestsims

https://pforestsims.tumblr.com/post/736707356187066369/clean-skill-meter-default

Camera Frame Default @pforestsims

https://pforestsims.tumblr.com/post/772037610641260544/update

Group Outing Plumbob Default @pforestsims

https://pforestsims.tumblr.com/post/741047867543781376/group-outing-plumbob-download-sfs

BuyBar Default

https://pforestsims.tumblr.com/post/736979878843449344/clean-ofb-buybar-default

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Food Defaults

@jacky93sims has 28 different food defaults for pretty much every single food in that game. I really recommend taking a look on their page!

Toaster Pastries Default @ghostwoohoo

https://www.tumblr.com/ghostwoohoo/691218172216508416/default-replacement-toaster-pastries-for-sims-2 (Cus Poptarts hehe)

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Pots & Pans Defaults @alienpod @jacky93sims @pforestsims

https://alienpod.tumblr.com/post/651104396196855808

https://jacky93sims.tumblr.com/post/694504460821610496/4to2-ddaeng-cookware-set-as-usable-crockery

https://pforestsims.tumblr.com/post/673731250424627200/old-cooking-pot-and-other-utensil-defaults (Also Has Utensils)

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Plates/Bowls/Utensils Defaults @episims @jacky93sims

https://episims.tumblr.com/post/750556546866561024/simple-white-plate-bowl-defaults (Plates/Bowls)

https://modthesims.info/d/235959/dinnerware-default-replacements.html (Plates/Bowls)

https://jacky93sims.tumblr.com/post/695213408196395008/simple-gold-fork-and-spoon-replacement-the-sims-2 (Fork and spoon)

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Pizza Default @jacky93sims

https://jacky93sims.tumblr.com/post/729895465717481472/more-realistic-pizza-default-replacement-for-the

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Car Defaults

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Taxi @jacky93sims @sunradersimblr

https://jacky93sims.tumblr.com/post/774683106701688832/taxi-default-replacement-for-the-sims-2

https://www.tumblr.com/sunradersimblr/623013782058319872/default-black-taxi-recolor

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School Bus Default @poppet-sims

https://poppet-sims.tumblr.com/post/130560227603

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Cop Car Default @scibirg

https://scibirg.tumblr.com/post/178797218145/gingers-sims-police-car-default-replacement

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Maid Service Car Default @vegan-kaktus

https://vegan-kaktus.tumblr.com/post/660239605946335232/i-saw-phoebe-twiddles-default-for-the-maid

(Install the vehicle file)

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