#soon… soon it will be a reality when I get the committed romance scene…

[selunesfavouriteprincess]

the noise I made when Neve protected Rook from Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain was probably very embarrassing but i’m taking every romance crumb I can get

[starlight-bread-blog]

Why Katara's Lines Come Off As Rejecting In EIP

Like I said in a previous EIP meta, this will be a doylist meta and an isolated look into the scene and the second half of book 3. So first things first, what are Katara's lines and body language?

As soon as A\ang brings up the kiss, she turns away, and just says she doesn't know.

When he asks her why doesn't she know, she seems slightly irritutated for a second, gives him a perfectly reasonable explanation, but doesn't hold eye contect for too long before drifting off.

A\ang keeps pushing, so she puts an end to this. This time she stays faced to him to say she is confused, signifying she's more comftable now that his questioning has ended.

Now it is clear as day that A\ang violated her boundries and she is pissed off.

Her lines and body language tell us two things I wish to break down:

Katara is very uncomftable talking about the possibility of a future romance and can't commit to an answer.

The reason she gives is that she is because she's confused.

2. Katara States That She is Confused

Let's try to take her at face value here. She's genuinely confused about her relationship with A\ang. Do you know what is the first role of storytelling? Show don't tell. If the writers wanted to show us that Katara trurly is confused, we should be seeing Katara grapple with that.

It wouldn't break the "Will They Won't They" tension, if anything, it'd amplify it. We can see this in action all the way back in season one, where Katara also is confused and considers if A\ang is a possible partner.

So, is that what we see? Small moment/moments of Katara looking at A\ang, being confused and considering him as an option? No, we do not. Instead, what we get from Katara, is...

We are told that Katara is confused, but what we're shown is Katara completely ignoring the source of her supposed confusion. What we're shown is not confusion, it's denial.

This is a sharp contrast to how well the writers made sure to remind us that Katara is still angry at Zuko over the course of these very episodes. From her threatening him when he first joins, to a mean spirited comment (at 0:21), there was a clear effort to keep up the tension, to make sure you know that Katara hasn't forgiven Zuko yet, until said tension is resolved. Meanwhile with Katara and A\ang what we see is the show, and by extension Katara, in denial to the whole event.

1. Katara is Uncomftable and Unable to Commit

If she is in denial and A\ang is making her face reality, would her behavior in the scene be compatible with that? Would she keep on avoiding the topic? Could her words register that way based on who she is? To know that, we could ask: does she have a history of shielding A\ang from reality?

(If the scene was revealed to be her shielding him), this isn't to say that Katara would consciously shield him the way she does here, she could've genuinely thought she was confused. There would be many ways to interpret the scene. However, it is in character for her to want to keep the peace to protect him from being hurt. Therefore, her lines in EIP could easily register to be of a similar fashion.

The show continuously refused to show Katara being confused, showing us nothing but denial. When she is faced with the reality, she refuses to commit when having a history of trying to shield A\ang for as long as she can. And this is why Katara's lines in EIP come off as rejecting.

[charming-mage]

Exposed by the Media Prompts Part 2

I didn’t expect that much Exposed by the Media prompts. I thought the well was dry. I was wrong. Should’ve known not to underestimate the internet and reality TV shows.

Exposed by the Media Prompts Part 1

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Lies in the Media is a Different Beast: Adrien grew up in the media spotlight. He knows it’s usually not a good idea to confront the rumors in the tabloids. It gives the rumors some credibility. When he sees Lila confront a rumor that bothers her a bit too much, he doesn’t stop her. Confronting a lie in the media needs a different method than someone lying in your personal life. Just because he’s doing the high road doesn’t mean he’s going to stop her from committing a crucial mistake.

Civilian Friends Are Okay Now: It’s well known Ladybug won’t make friends in her hero persona. She’ll be friendly and kind, but with a polite distance. People accepted it after a while. This changes after Lila’s interview on the Ladyblog. People assume Ladybug changed her mind about it since there’s no retraction article.  Civilians become more pushy and want to have more personal relations. From regular people to higher ranking citizens. (ex. No more formality, more personal rapport, friendship, or even the start of an epic romance.) A few uncomfortable situations and angry citizens forces Ladybug to address this.

Total Drama Island: The Miraculous users find out one of the prizes in a new season of the Total Drama Island reality TV show is an important Miraculous artifact. It could be anything from a Miraculous to a secret Guardian book. The heroes and villains are forced to participate as none of them found the item in time. Marinette and Adrien go in their civilian selves while Hawkmoth sends in Lila. Lila tries hard to hide her true self, but the contestants do find out.

Forgot to Log Out: Lila forgets to log out of her social media accounts in the school library. She gets distracted by something and clicks on minimize instead of the close tab on her browser. Since Lila didn’t log out of her session and the next person who gets the computer didn’t bother to do so either, her tabs are still there. The person is a noisy gossip and scrolls through them. They are intrigued by what they find. They decide to take screenshots and uploads them to the school website forum page. For the drama of course. (This is based on my experience when I was in high school and the library in my city. It was common to just close the browser and not bother to log out. The next person only logged out if they needed something from their own account. It’s not worth it to log in and out just for some internet searching.)

Dear Abby: Marinette, needing advice from a third party about Lila’s lying, sends an email to the Dear Abby column. (Or France’s equivalent.) She figures since Abby has no connection to either her or Lila, the writer can give her unbiased advice. She does her best to make the details as vague as possible so everyone in her life (including Lila) can have privacy. Her message is replied to and included in an article weeks later. Her request and Abby’s reply becomes popular amongst readers. Marinette did make a mistake, though. One of the examples she gives about “Lemon” is unique enough that someone eventually finds an interview on the Ladybug suspiciously similar to the lie. Marinette stopped watching new Lila interviews because it enraged her too much. She doesn’t want to deal with Lila after school hours as well. So she’s not aware Lila also mentioned it in an interview. Dear Abby readers dig through the interviews and discover nothing but lies. The Dear Abby column and the Ladybug drama gets big enough to be covered by the media.

Real Life Works Differently Than Fiction : A few classmates end up in a situation like Lila tells in her stories. Believing in Lila, they do what Lila claimed she did thinking it would work out the same. It doesn’t turn out so well. They get scolded by involved parties not to do that again. A reporter on the scene interviews them. It comes out why they did it. Lila’s lies are exposed as the fiction they are.

Tsurugi Influence: Kagami’s status as Adrien’s girlfriend makes Lila switch targets. Marinette is in the back burner until Lila deals with her new love rival. Her plans to deal with Kagami backfires and brings media attention. Lila was too used to love rivals not doing any major action towards her. The wrath of the Tsurugi family is brought upon her. She realizes afterwards how influential and powerful the family is.

Adrien’s Phone is Stolen Again: And this time the phone thief is caught. Lila steals Adrien’s phone to post social media posts an hour later gushing about Lila/or talking about in her a positive light. By the time Adrien finds out, he can’t take back what “he” said without controversy. Which Mr. Agreste would not like. That’s Lila’s plan anyway. The problem is that Lila makes these posts while Adrien is on a surprise live interview. (Which she is unaware of.) The interviewer asks Adrien about the new posts while Adrien is clearly not on his phone/laptop. On a hunch, a quick search by Adrien leads to the discovery that his phone was stolen. The model confirms it’s his personal account and not a media team behind it. The content of the posts make Lila the main suspect.

You Can’t Delete Me Now : Lila gets in a controversy. She starts deleting comments and defending herself. Gabriel is busy in a meeting and doesn’t find out in time to stop her. Commenters get so mad at her, one of them gets the bright idea to hold up signs resembling post/comment/ or tweet. Somewhere in their message includes a line saying, “You can’t delete me now.” The idea catches on and it becomes a trend to walk around in public or near photo shoots holding signs with their comments. Everyone includes the now famous phrase in their sign.

Lila’s Wild Ride: Lila manages to steal the monkey miraculous. However, she learns the hard way why the Guardian needs to think carefully when matching someone with a miraculous. (Lila is not good at using the monkey miraculous’ power. At all.) Xuppu easily figures out what happened and makes sure to give Lila a very memorable time. The wilder it is the better. A live news crew captures footage of Ladybug furious “that lying Lila Rossi” stole a miraculous. Chat Noir is worried they’ll see a new Hawkmoth ally soon. There’s more chaos as the criminal underworld, opportunistic people, and die hard Ladybug fans enter the scene. Meanwhile, the French government is not pleased with the Italian government. An Italian diplomat’s daughter stealing a Miraculous from Ladybug herself looks very bad for relations. Looks like a secret operation that got exposed to the more paranoid members.

Hell’s Kitchen: Gordon Ramsey hosts an amateur cooking competition. An older Lila Rossi is one of the competitors. Ramsey doesn’t like her food. (or the drama she starts. And sabotaging the other competitor’s food.) Sadly for him, her cooking is barely better than the worst ones so she is able to scrap on to the next round. The execs love her for the drama. When the season airs, the contestants notice the footage was edited to make Lila look innocent. They get hate from Hell’s Kitchen fans about their meanness and most of them do what they can to defend themselves. People become interested in what Lila is like in real life. The only requirement for the prompt is for Lila to be an adult. Ramsey would not let lose on a minor.

Collaboration Gone Wrong: The Gabriel brand does a collaboration with a brand outside the fashion industry. It could be anything as long as it gets the other brand to be on the same set as Gabriel staff. Gabriel decides to give Lila bigger roles starting with this. Lila is beyond happy. A bump in the road appears when an intern around her age pulls her aside and asks her to stop lying. Lila doesn’t of course and secretly does her best to ruin the credibility of the intern before they get the idea to tell someone else. Unbeknownst to the Gabriel model, the intern is a close relative of the collaboration company’s CEO. The intern just doesn’t advertise that fact. Doesn’t want special treatment. Heads start rolling when the CEO finds out what Gabriel’s muse has done to their beloved family member. Permanently damaging a profitable business relationship is the least of Gabriel’s worries when the media gets wind of the scandal.

[jackass-lovemail]

(100 FOLLOWER SPECIAL!!!) Slashers Watching Horror Movies with their S/O.

these slasher picks are extremely random due to me using a wheel with their names on it LMAO. once again, thank you guys so much for 100 followers <3!! 

- pierrot <3<3<3

Thomas Hewitt

From what it felt like, it had been ages since you had seen an actual television. And when Hoyt announced that he had purchased one, you became quite giddy to watch some movies with your boyfriend, Thomas. 

And your boyfriend was exhilarated to see you so enraptured, so now he was excited to watch movies with you. At first, the news left him unbothered, not finding the electronic thrilling what-so ever. Until his eyes latched over to your bubbly frame and ecstatic expressions over Hoyt’s words and gingerly began to grin at your reactions. Whatever made his sweetheart happy. So, you had searched through thick and thin for any tapes to watch and had only found one. A horror movie. 

Hewitt didn’t care what you guys were watching, he just couldn’t wait to spend sweet quality time with his S/O. He laid comfortably on the couch, positioning himself in the perfect spot for him and his partner. He even fiddled with the pillows so they wouldn’t get in the way of him and his S/O. Proud with his effort and satisfied with the result, he let his mind wander to different scenarios with him and his mate. Ooh, perhaps they chose a romantic movie. He felt himself grin in awe and his fingers fiddled with the fabric on his clothes. ‘Thomas! I chose the movie, I’m so excited!’ 

Fluttering back into reality, Hewitt’s eyes raced to the movie you had chosen and inspected what you had chosen, his hope of a romance movie riddled while examining the movie. His own anticipation puddled down into nothingness as he noticed that what you chose was a horror movie. His eyes slowly made eye contact with yours and gave you a ‘really’ look. You could hardly step foot in the basement, there was no chance you were going to survive this! He shook his head and grabbed the movie from your paws. ‘Hey, what!? Why don’t you wanna watch that one?’ His eyes remained the same and you pouted, salt laced within your glance.  ‘I can handle it!’ you declared, understanding what your boyfriend was conveying. 

Not even thirty minutes in, here you were, tightly latched onto your boyfriend’s lap and head scrambled into his neck. You were beyond terrified because of the movie and Thomas tried to comfort you while rubbing your back in circles. He found it very cute, though and completely expected. It’s not like he minded the intimacy...

Stu Macher 

Stu grinned ear to ear when you had announced you were finally committed to watch a horror movie. He never thought he’d see the day, but here he was. Seeing the day. 

He found it a tad bit ironic you were fearful to watch a scary movie but be alright with his murderous hobby. But at the same time, he’d made sure you’d never be witness to him in his getup or his homicidal actions. Hell, he doesn’t even like to bring it up around you. So deep down, he was amused with the idea of you observing something frightening. 

Getting feedback from Randy’s advice, he had a couple of horror movies in mind to watch with you. Oh boy was he giddy the whole day, running up to you through the halls and trying to frighten you. And if he had succeeded, he would playfully jest at you, shaking his head and saying you better try harder and prepare for tonight. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at your blonde boyfriend and give him a kiss just to shut him up. It would work like a charm, and he’d grin with triumph. 

Finally, school was over and Stu sped towards your class, eagerly flicking between every student who left the room and dismissing them when he identified that they were not infact you. Finally, his eyes met his partners and he leaped on them, causing them to almost tumble over. ‘Stu! Woah boy, calm down!’ You jokingly warned, giggling as you felt his hands bombard your waist. Your eyes fluttered up to his own and he moved himself towards you, embracing your warmth with his own. If only he were this friendly when you two began to watch your movie...

Every jump, twitch and gasp that had left your body fed Stu’s ego. It humoured him so much that throughout the movie, his attention had leisurely began to fixate on you. Because he had seen this movie, he bit his lip every time he knew a certain jump scare or a character’s death would occur, intoxicated with your reactions. Although it went unnoticed to you, every scary moment within the film made you subconsciously scoot yourself closer to him. It was difficult for him to push away the egotistical smile on his face after the movie. 

Norman Bates 

Norman watched as you entered the tape into the TV, humming to yourself giddily and eyes flicking back to the tape reader and then back to the television to make sure the film is working. When you noticed the TV’s reaction to the tape being entered and read, you grin at your skills and flopped back onto the couch, relatively close to your boyfriend. He watched you with uneasy eyes and a small frown on his face.

‘(Name)..’ he began, ‘are you sure you’re going to be fine watching this movie...?’ Your beautiful features whipped over to his, a small grin plastered on your face. ‘Of course I will be! What about you? Are you alright with watching this...?’ You questioned, trying to flip the query of concern onto him. Though, it did not work and he began to fret even more. ‘I know how you are with scary movies... Perhaps we should choose a different one.’ He offered smoothly, enforcing that he hated the idea of you getting frightened. Your head once again shook and he let out a sigh of defeat. 

‘Alright, (Name). Though, you can always hug me if you get scared...’ He shyly suggested, trying to sound impressive. His eyes watched as your cheeks flushed a soft pink color and he beamed gently, pleased with his words and how you angelically responded. Perhaps this was an alright idea to go with...

And boy, was it. Soon into the movie, Norman had noticed your fearful responses and observed you take up his offer. You shuffled closer to him during the film, sometimes your head turning towards his neck due to a nasty scene. Norman had completely melted due to the attention you gave him and it made him feel assertive. 

At times, Norman would cover your eyes over with his slim fingers due to the startling themes on the TV. At first, you’d object until your ears picked up the loud noises emitting from the film. You shyly pushed your hands onto his fingers to give you more support to not look at the screen and he almost broke a fuse right there and then. 

I hope you guys enjoyed!!! i like writing for norman teehee  - pierrot <3333

[along-came-atsushi]

It's a strange question, but… Do you think Dazai had ever sex with someone ? He's someone who's don't like being in an vulnerable position and intimity seems inconfortable for him so… SORRY for my english, it's not my first language !

That’s a valid question and tbh I already thought about that myself. And your English is quite good, I understand you. It’s not my first language either, so ;)

That really depends on how you interpret Dazai, and as always people have different opinions. Therefore different people will also tell you different things.

We must also keep in mind that BSD is not a romance story. So things like who has sexual experiences and who doesn’t, who has a romantic partner/love interest and who doesn’t, isn’t important to the story and its characters, and therefore not mentioned.

I hope you don’t mind that my answer ended up to be longer than I first imagined. But I tend to look at things more closely than to give a simple “yes/no, because I think...”

~ ~ ~

You can take Dazai’s flirtations at face value and believe his acting. It then really seems that he’s the number 1 womanizer.

Chuuya also confirms that Dazai has broken many women’s hearts. But we don’t know how far those interactions went. We don’t know if he only flirted with them, if he had a romantic date with them, or if those were one-night stands.

Maybe it’s being left ambiguous on purpose for our own interpretation. Maybe it’s going to be revealed in another novel.

However, Dazai is mostly seen flirting with women to:

a) gather information (e.g.: when he put the transmitter in Higuchi’s jacket to spy on her, because he already assumed that she was with the PM. Another example is Sasaki, the girlfriend of the Azure King. But more on that later.)

b) get something he wants

(e.g.: when he flirted with the nurse who took away his phone, so he used flattery to change her mind and get his phone back from her. Another example is the waitress he tries to distract, so he doesn’t have to pay his tabs. But she isn’t taking any of his shit and he knows it XD)

c) simply for fun (or out of boredom). He asks random women to commit suicide with him or to kill him, even though he exactly knows they won’t do it (the waitress is an example for this again).

The anime either left it out or censored it, but the first light novel has some sexual/erotic hints regarding Kunikida. We definitely know that Kunikida finds Sasaki sexual attractive, and he has been asked before if he had a date (explicit in the sense of a one-night stand).

Which then leads to the scene where it looks like Dazai invited Sasaki over to have a one-night stand with her. At least that’s exactly what Kunikida is thinking, because that’s just how he interprets Dazai:

“Thank you so much, Mr. Dazai. You... you were very...kind to me last night...”

Miss Sasaki flushes bashfully for some reason.

“What’s wrong, Kunikida? You’ve got a really weird look on your face.”

“Dazai... don’t you think that’s taking things a little too fast?”

“I... I was the one who asked him to let me stay over. I basically forced him.”

Later on Dazai confirms that he slept in a different room and that he didn’t touch her.

If Dazai truly is the number 1 womanizer he’s always playing (or people think him to be), then that would’ve been his chance. And there is no reason for Asagiri to censor it in any way, if he already made sexual/erotic hints before.

It’s implied that Dazai already suspected Sasaki when he and Kunikida first met her. Just like in the case with Higuchi, Dazai playing a dumb womanizer who’s just flirting with women is his way of gathering information. So, he plays the womanizer and flirts with Sasaki to eventually get something out of her. The problem is that Sasaki is an excellent manipulator and actress herself, and she’s using Dazai and Kunikida for her own plans, too. Therefore Dazai can’t confirm his theory as quickly as he can with Higuchi.

There’s also this reaction from Dazai, which I think is really interesting:

“[...] You know there’s nothing going on between Miss Sasaki and me,  right? [...] I slept in another room. I haven’t laid a finger on her. C’mon, do you really think I’d try to seduce a woman who was almost killed earlier that day? I’ve got a little more sense than that. [...]”

Doesn’t sound like a heartless and selfish womanizer to me.

.

It leads to the question that if Dazai had sex it’s when and with whom?

As stated above, he was already flirtatious during his PM time. Unfortunately Chuuya had been the witness of many of these, feeling sorry for all the women Dazai left heartbroken.

Given the fact that Dazai apparently only has contact with Chuuya during missions and not in private, it’s a high possibility that all these interactions Chuuya knows about was Dazai flirting with women for ulterior motives (gathering information etc.) and that he just interprets them the same way Kunikida does.

Since Dazai’s mindset during his PM time was more depressed and dark, I doubt that he honestly was in the mood for sexual encounters. It’s also nowhere stated in the Dark Era novel that he had an encounter anywhere like this before. It isn’t even mentioned that he once flirted with someone out of personal interests. And since he sees Ango and Odasaku as his friends, those two would’ve been the ones to know about.

.

All in all I interpret Dazai as someone who’s acting most of the time, playing someone who he truly is not and hiding what he truly feels. And that includes his flirts with women. It’s easier for him, if everyone around him just assumes he’s shallow and selfish, when he in reality longs for something honest and is even afraid of getting hurt in the end.  

[Dazai saying A and then doing B deserves it’s own meta, but that would be too much, and my answer already has gotten way too long.]

As soon as he gets from the women he flirts with what he actually wants (be it his phone or information) he dumps them. He doesn’t need to place himself in an intimate position with them, because he’s just that good with manipulation, which includes flirting. I also think having Dazai really have sex with any of them takes away his genius, because then it seems that he HAS to do A in order to get B. In other words: He HAS to use his body, his mind and words alone aren’t enough. But that’s just my opinion.

Therefore I believe that Dazai actually didn’t have a sexual encounter before, not even for gathering information. He knows how to act like a smooth womanizer and he knows how to win over a woman’s heart:

“And from my experience, it takes only a smile and some kindness to get a woman swooning over you when she’s fallen on hard times.”

I’m sure he whispered some erotic things in the nurse’s ear, maybe purposely leaving her with an outlook for something more. But that’s all just make believe and pretend. Ultimately, it doesn’t tell if he has actual sexual experiences or not. He’s just playing along.

[chocosvt]

⚬ pairing: mingyu x fem!reader | purge!au ⚬ word count: 15,728. ⚬ warnings: weapons, death, drugs, blood. ⚬ genres: ANGST, spicy/nsfw scenes, fluff to mend the heart, romance, action, and whatever else you could fathom lol.

✧✎ synopsis: the annual purge was a system of purification, alleviation, a supposedly psychological device in which people found a moment to unleash their indignation. you never purged until you met mingyu, a boy whose warmth was just as palpable as his darkness. you begin to fall for him, which means involvement with the evil he’s managed to attract.

✧✎ a/n: longer note at the end of the fic! sorry i’ve kept this in the vault for AGES bc i couldn’t figure out how to write in the ‘twist’ or whatever the fuck. you’ll know when you get there. anyways this is for @mihgyu (sorry it freakin took so long!) and @solgyus​ as they are my Resident Mingyu Stans. i also changed the title bc i thought... yknow... it fits better!

You had always wondered what life was like for the previous generation, the generation who grew up without acquaintance to the annual purge. It was an alien concept if any concept at all, one so foreign and inexplicably bizarre that the cogs in your mind would start jamming against each other in a struggle of comprehension. The education system had groomed its pupils into believing it was the only plausible way to recover from an economic collapse, feeding into gullible and malleable minds the possibility of clearing rage through bloodshed.

When your parents disappeared at dawn, leaving nothing behind but the sound of a lock clicking shut and a note advising you to stay away from the windows and doors, it could be assumed they’d return at morning with crimson-stained clothing, crusted lacerations, and heavy weaponry sealed taunt to their hands; or maybe they wouldn’t return at all. Yet you were taught to believe that was okay. At least if you didn’t have your family, you had your friends. 

At least if you didn’t have your family, you had Mingyu. 

As much as you despised admitting to yourself, Mingyu meant to you what the moon meant to the tides, what the sun meant to the meadows. He kept you in perpetual motion, allowed you room to recuperate and blossom into a much stronger version of yourself after your father never came home. When he lost his job your family lost its momentum. The last you ever saw of the man was his backside as he slipped through the door frame, a chortling in the evening air, a black revolver clasped to his hand.

He seemed to disappear alongside your mother’s sanity. She isolated herself and pushed everyone away, even you, the only person capable of nurturing her. In school you’d learned that the purge was supposed to bring purification, it was responsible for cleansing humans of the everyday stresses that slowly crushed them flat. Purging allowed them happiness; a twelve hour capsule to unleash what the law prohibited three-hundred-sixty-four days a year.

Yet when you looked to your mother, you didn’t see any traces of happiness or fulfillment, just an empty shell that sat with sunken eyes in her rocking chair, mumbling to herself like a toddler. Before you even had time to find closure after your father’s disappearance, your mother suffered a similar fate, abducted through the windowsill by a maniac who sought vengeance for the crimes committed beneath your father’s hand. He was a stingy businessman who often scammed to make his money, therefore collecting a myriad of enemies.

Notably, you didn’t start purging until you met Mingyu. The first time you’d ever used a gun with malicious intent was when you ran into the man responsible for abducting your mother. The kick-back from the trigger had you stumbling across the watered asphalt, the silver slick rain that caved down from the clouds washing away the minuscule spatters of his blood that blew onto your face. As he slumped down against the red bricks, the animation draining slowly from his eyes, he spluttered,

“S-She’s dead, she payed for your father’s incompetence, his greed.”

In complete lifelessness you lowered the weapon, not realizing how close the  distant gunfire sounded until Mingyu had to drag you away by the wrist. He murmured his condolences to you when the air was tinged with less bloodshed, carefully nuzzling you into his chest when the reality of what you’d just done had come spiraling forth, leaving a slap so brutal across your face the burn seemed more realistic than the raindrops hitting your skin.

You felt disgusting, enclosed in a body that had been consumed by the purest form of hatred, and there was nothing you could do to evade the feeling of that ugly gun pressed into your hand. But within that same moment, hot tears pumping onto Mingyu’s shirt, you understood a certain satiation that tempted so many people to do what you had just done.

“We can’t stay here,” You felt the vibrations from his deep voice against your cheek, coolness stinging the heated flesh of your face when you lifted your head to meet his gentle eyes.

“Gotta keep moving, alright? It’ll be over soon, I promise.”

Mingyu’s composure was definitely an admirable trait. But then again, he’d been exposed to this environment long before you ever questioned purging. At that point you had felt completely numb, allowing him to wind you through the crevices and shadowy tunnels building the foundation of the city, your vision blurred by a mixture of salt and rain water. You felt safe with Mingyu, though it hadn’t always been like that. Before your friendship you were an outsider to the boy, harbouring nothing but a tiny crush toward him and his handsome face.

In fact the first time you’d ever spoken to Mingyu, it was after his fight with Wen Junhui, one of the most infamous, cynical purgers you prayed to never meet.

Two Years Ago –

“I’ll kill you if you come near her again!”

“Is that supposed to scare me?!”

You’d never seen a fist fight in real life before, and you were positive that was a good thing. A large crowd steadfastly increased around two tall, venom-eyed boys caught up in their alcohol. They were spitting profanities, threats, and whatever else their clouded minds could formulate within the gap of the other’s speech. The party had been rather lackluster before that point anyways, so like the congregation swarming to the centre of the room, you etched into the crowd and managed to stand just inside the inner circle.

“Shit – sorry,” you squeaked as you were suddenly shoved into the girl beside you. Your face became hollow like a crater on the moon when you saw that it was Mingyu’s girlfriend.

“What am I supposed to do?” She mumbled whilst biting her nails, “I didn’t know how to stop it.”

“Stop the fight?”

She continued babbling, “Junhui kept coming on to me and Mingyu saw. They’re both competitive, boggle-brained idiots when they’re drunk. I don’t know what to do.”

Her name was Yang Yeeun, born and raised by parents maintaining such wealth that rumours began circulating their bloodstream was crushed rubies. You could see her pearl earrings flashing behind the straight black locks framing her small face. You don’t think she ever took them off. Her father manufactured security systems for the purge; however, the most recent release had been proven to bore many defects and flaws. She didn’t care, as long as she got a slice of the wealth.

In the beginning, Yeeun and Mingyu’s relationship came as a slap to the wrist. How could two people reaping such difference in personality become so close? Yeeun was frank and staid, with cold, cindered eyes that never displayed an eclipse of emotion. Her complexion was just as pale as the pearls she wore and her heart swam darkly.

Mingyu was her polar opposite. 

Sure he was intimidatingly tall, but any menace he constructed with his height was easily derailed through his bubbly nature. He was what you call, “a gentle giant,” and anyone who contacted him for more than a brief period understood this. The warmth was in his honey-brown gaze, the velvet of his tanned skin, the sepia tones that were shaggy in his hair. When he spoke you could feel the gravel roll beneath your feet, and when he said your name heat would flood your face like steam throughout a hot spring. 

Again, Mingyu and Yeeun made a bizarre couple, yet he loved her so deeply you swore the dark coverings in her heart had peeled back a little.

You kept in mind, a little.

“They’re fighting over you?” You questioned carefully, trying not to exaggerate your words so that it seemed utterly impossible for her to be worth fighting over.

“Yes,” Yeeun gritted, her eyes darting around the crowd, strangers pressing into the circle, allured by drunken shouting, “can’t they wait until purge before they start ripping into each other?”

Wouldn’t it be best if they didn’t rip into each other at all?

“Like you said, they’re drunk and stupid,” you opted for the latter choosing.

Mingyu’s mellow stare had been licked over by enraged flames, the remaining liquor still pumping through his system and warming his blood until it sizzled. His fists were balled tightly, fangs peeking past the taunt snarl on his lips. Junhui appeared calmer, though the bar of composure was quite low to begin with. The unkempt ends of his midnight black hair were shaking, his sharp nose crinkled, and his stare so impossibly intense that you were nauseated a vein on his neck might become engorged and pop. 

As interesting as it would be for you to witness your first fist fight, you knew it wasn’t a wise idea for these two to start swinging at each other.

You set a hand on Yeeun’s shoulder, “maybe you should stop thi—,”

Suddenly, her palms encased her mouth as the last few words of toxicity were spat between Mingyu and Junhui, the crowd erupting in brazen cheering as the two lunged for one another in a flash of blurred colour. Your jaw was permanently unhinged, your body set in stone, attention completely spellbound under the boys who were viciously entangled. The world seemed to spin at a snail’s pace whilst the fight flickered faster than lightning. At one point Mingyu had Junhui shoved up against the wall, one hand nearly ripping through the boy’s black-collared shirt as he tore his free fist back and swiftly launched it forward. The hard ridges of Mingyu’s knuckles connected with Junhui’s eye, his head smashed back into the drywall so that an indentation remained.

“G-Get the fuck off me, Mingyu!”

“You fucking asked for this, dumbass!”

In another fuzzy whirlwind of movement, Junhui managed to push Mingyu backward and onto the snack table, bowls and bottled alcohol spilling across the floor with jade shards of glass scattering in flurries. Junhui drew his fist into Mingyu’s face, the collision splintering against Mingyu’s brow bone. You could see the speckles of blood flying off Junhui’s hand as he curled his fingers into another ball, preparing to throw once more. Panic encompassed you from every angle; it drowned you above your head until the crowd’s bellowing became a muffled choir to your ears. 

You could hardly breathe as your sights shifted to Yeeun, the girl with her hands still clasped to her mouth, doing absolutely nothing.

Was that a smirk hidden behind her hands?

She really did have a dark heart. By the looks of it no one was going to intervene. You were most likely the soberest person in attendance. Even if it downright petrified you, letting those two get their hands so bloodied it would look like they doused their arms in red paint wasn’t a viable option.

“Hey!” You barked, slowly etching your way into the clearing, “what the fuck is wrong with you two?! Get off each other!”

Mingyu and Junhui were still a violent mass now buckled to the floor, anger and alcohol swelling through their bodies like a drug. You felt your knees wobble, as though a tight fist had an ironclad grip on your entrails and was squelching them around slowly. Junhui had Mingyu pressed to the floor, and raised in his arm was a sparkling shard belonging to a smashed bottle. You didn’t know what it was, but something inside compelled you to react. In a mere instant you were ripping the shard from Junhui’s hand and screaming at the top of your lungs, the crowd’s cheering turned to hushed whispers.

“Enough!”

Your chest was heaving, fingers grasping the glass piece tightly enough that thin lines of red began dripping down your hand. Junhui and Mingyu had peeled themselves apart, the deep marring of hatred etched so profoundly into their eyes you’d never be able to forget it. Yeeun suddenly blossomed with emotion after standing on the outskirts smirking into her palm, the girl bounding toward Mingyu and snaking her arms around his neck like she’d been downright sobbing with worry the whole time.

“C’mon, Gyu,” she gritted, “we’re leaving.”

Thanks for the help.

You were tempted to call.

The fight between Mingyu and Junhui might have stopped, but the party continued to thrive. You were wandering through the upstairs hallway as the wooden floorboards jolted beneath you, driven by incessant music that became a furthering echo. Fresh blood had yet to stop streaming down the grooves between your knuckles, pooling from the lacerations of that jagged, glass shard and wetting your warm skin. You continued seeking for a bathroom, any room really that might contain a first aid kit, or at least some water and tissues that would help to clean your hand.

Each room was either occupied or locked. A defeated sigh ghosted from your lips as you stood at the end of the hall, weakly knocking your healthy hand against the last door. Scarlet drops were creating a puddle on the wood whilst you waited, until the brass handle jiggled and you were stepping back in shock that someone had actually acknowledged your presence.

Of course, the person doing the acknowledging had to be Yeeun.

“Oh! It’s… you.” She murmured. Behind her slim frame you could see Mingyu sitting on the sink, holding a cloth to his eyebrow.

“It’s me,” you replied, desperately wanting to skip the small talk and use the first aid kit. Didn’t she say she was leaving?

Yeeun finally noticed the red pathways on your hand and nodded, “I see you need to get yourself bandaged up.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” You hummed, trying not to sound impatient but utterly failing.

“Well… I’ll be right back then. Just so you know there’s no gauze left.”

“That’s okay, I don’t think I’ll need an—,”

“I’m going to look for some!” Yeeun called as she squeezed her way past you and began trudging down the corridor, “be back soon!”

Mingyu tossed you a lopsided smile when you entered the bathroom. You kicked the door shut with your foot to drown as much noise as possible. Though the small barrier didn’t do too much in regards to sound, it certainly made the bathroom feel one-hundred times smaller. Or maybe it was solely Mingyu and his gargantuan height. Perhaps it wasn’t any of those factors and you were just feeling nervous to be enclosed in a private space with him. Either way, your face turned into magma and you felt like swallowing sand. Without saying a word you turned on the sink and let the cold water stream between your fingers.

“Hey.” He began.

Oh no. If you initiate conversation with me there’s a ninety-nine percent chance I’m going to fall in love with you.

“Thanks for intervening. You kinda saved my life there.”

You scoffed whilst scrubbing the dry scarlet from your wrist, “I think you could have taken him.”

Mingyu took the wet cloth from his brow and folded it over before reapplying pressure to his own wound, sighing deeply. “Fuck this. I hate getting drunk.”

Fastening your teeth into your lower lip, you remained silent and continued swirling around the bloodied skin until the red currents seemed to all drain away, down the white porcelain. You winced a little because there was indeed a stinging sensation, but it was better than allowing the cuts to get infected. Mingyu’s curious gaze was watching the scene intently, and with his body propped right next to the sink, there was really no easy way to avoid your feelings other than to talk with him.

“How’s your injury?”

“I don���t know, how is it?” He peeled the damp cloth from his brow bone. You could see that directly in the centre the skin had spilt, a little ways above the brow and a little beneath it, bright pink flesh gleaming from between the dark hairs and tanned skin. It would definitely leave a scar.

“I’m no doctor, but you might need stitches.”

“Seriously?” Mingyu grimaced. “That fucking sucks.”

You scoffed. “That’s funny. The same kid who socked Junhui in his eye is afraid of getting a few itty bitty baby stitches.”

Mingyu pouted, his thick brows then slanting downward which made him wince petulantly. You couldn’t suppress your chuckling, turning off the sink with a coy smile playing along your mouth.

“I’m joking.”

“I know.” Mingyu said. “I’m sure everyone’s gonna start saying he’ll rake my eyes out at purge.”

You laughed at that too, though deep down you both knew it wasn’t anything flowery to laugh about. Junhui was the definition of nefarious. Similar to Yeeun his family danced in riches, their security systems were top-notch, and his access to weaponry and blueprints of the city could be in his hands within minutes. People worshiped the ground he walked on, but it wasn’t because they liked him. It was only sensible to play nice to the person capable of taking your life away in a single breath. 

Of course, Junhui’s reputation made him a prime target, yet despite all the people who secretly wanted him dead, it was difficult to even lay a scathe on his amber skin.

In your eyes it was better to avoid the boy altogether. That way you never gave him any reason to seek out your oblivious-self during the annual purge. Mingyu had crossed that line to the fullest extent. He laid more than an innocent scathe on Junhui; the boy had given him an entire fist to his pretty, supposedly untouchable face. Feeling your heartbeat thump widely, you quickly willed to change the subject.

“Do you see any cloths? Or Kleenex? Anything?”

Mingyu frowned. “Sorry, nothing.”

You shook your arm out over the sink to shed some water droplets, yet the blood still continued to bead. Mingyu looked sympathetic. He presumed it was his fault you were even injured in the first place.

“Yeeun’s getting gauze.”

“I think I’ll be okay—,”

“Wait!” Mingyu suddenly piped. “This might be super awkward but—,” the boy’s tongue peaked out between his pink lips as he gripped the end of his white t-shirt and gave it a tear, pulling off a strip of fabric.

Your cheeks began crackling and your palms felt oddly clammy, “M-Mingyu, don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“Doesn’t matter,” the boy said, “this shirt’s old and busted anyways. It’s better than walking home, dripping blood everywhere.”

You smiled softly and stared at the floor.

“Here! I’ll even wrap it for you.” He purred, gently reaching for your arm and twining the white material like a roll of bandages around your hand. 

Forgetting about his own spilt brow that began clotting with blood, Mingyu finished his dexterous work with a tender glance that made your stomach flip, his chocolate bangs falling endearingly before his eyes. After shaking the fringe away, he gave you a thumbs-up.

“Now you look like you just got into a fight.”

“Right, because I’m the first person everyone suspects to start a fight. You hit the nail on the head with that one.”

Mingyu chuckled at the heavy sarcasm, blinking his pretty lashes at you with such warmth you keened to melt like an ice cream cone. You supposed after that moment, Mingyu might not be nearly as brutal as his drunken, love-induced mind influenced him to be. For a fleeting moment you even doubted that this was the same boy with his own kill-list. His eyes glimmered like diamonds catching a shaft of light.

“That’s something only time can tell.” He purred

Two Years Ago –

When Mingyu and Yeeun broke up, it was like the universe took its cue to make everything in life feel unreal. If their romance was nothing more than a mirage, then had romance ever existed in the first place? At least to you, it routinely appeared as though Yeeun’s heart had never been within the same realm as Mingyu’s. There was always an island of separation between them, one little ploy that prevented the couple from truly clicking like puzzle pieces. That ploy was exigent in the form of onyx hair, a sultry voice, and bottomless eyes.

In other words the obstacle was Junhui. Yeeun started dating him no less than a month after the break-up.

Mingyu, he was crushed; taking the point of devastation and expanding it an extra nine yards. In contrast with Yeeun’s heart, his was always wide open, warmer than a summer fire and more embracing than sun rays. You swore she would be the girl he took to meet his mother, the girl whose finger he delicately touched to slide upon a silver loop. A part of you crumbled each time you saw them together, before the break-up, and even more so after the party.

Remembering how his rough fingertips skimmed the wet (and surely burning) skin of your hand as he wrapped the cloth around it did something peculiar to your mind. Reminiscing on the soft timbre of his chuckles made your head spin, and replaying the manner in which his eyes twinkled as he gazed at you through his thick bangs brought forth fluttering in your stomach. It was what you were daydreaming about even after their infamous break-up, fingers clacking against the keys on your laptop whilst you finished an essay in the library. To your dismay, the thoughts were scattered by conversation at the table behind you.

“Think Junhui is gonna gut Mingyu at purge?”

“Probably not, Mingyu would be expecting it. And it’s not like he’s hopeless. Did you hear about how he stabbed someone to death in the tunnel last year?”

“Yeah. But Junhui’s clique practically owns the purge. They’ll tear your fuckin’ house down if they can find it.”

“…True. Those two seriously have some bad fucking blood. Do you remember the rumours about how Junhui sho— ”

Unable to listen any longer without this horrendous churning against the walls of your stomach, you shoved your laptop into its carrying case, swung it over your shoulder and began shuffling between the book shelves. Your stare traced the floor whilst a pummeling sensation thundered into your ribcage. Mingyu didn’t seem like the type to kill, though you didn’t know him personally, and perhaps he had matters of vengeance that crooned for redemption. This tiny hope inside you flickered, prayed that Mingyu was unlike Junhui, the kind that tortured for torture’s sake, the kind that shoved a pistol beneath your jaw because you looked at them funny.

Suddenly, you collided with someone. Blinking upward, you gazed at the body you’d walked into, Mingyu, who was in the midst of pulling out a book.

“Sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You apologized.

You hadn’t seen him for a while, but he looked healthy, a bit tired perhaps, but mostly healthy. Dressed in comfy clothing, a grey hood drawn with his earbuds plugged in, he popped one of the speakers out and lent a small smile. His eyes were slightly veiled by his earthy bangs, the coarse fronds wavy in front of his forehead. His scent was a concoction of something tropic mixed with cannabis, and when he spoke his voice was lower than usual.

“Were you leaving?” Mingyu asked.

Yes.

“No, no. I wanted to finish my essay somewhere that wasn’t... back there.”

“Oh,” he sighed, “seemed like you were in a rush.”

“I was just thinking.”

Mingyu stuck the book back into its gap and smiled, “about?”

You sniffled. “What?”

“What were you thinking about?”

Obviously you were not going to admit that you just overheard conversation about Mingyu being gutted under Junhui’s hand, about Mingyu supposedly cramming a knife through whoever’s chest during last year’s purge, about Mingyu’s history of participation in the annual mayhem that plagued the country like a sickness each year. Now that the purge was on your mind, a dark worry skulked in the shadowy crevices of your brain, yet it seemed to dissipate just as quickly as it arrived when Mingyu stared at you so gently.

“How much I hate essays.”

He nodded. “That must be it.”

Without thinking, you blurted, “what happened with your eyebrow? Did you get a scar?”

He simply carded back the bangs covering his forehead and poked at the nick with his finger. It would have been courteous to receive a warning that he was going to reveal his forehead. He had no clue how powerful a mechanism it truly was, how badly you wanted to kiss that tiny scar after seeing the slit through his brow. Swallowing the flushed heat that arose in your throat, you grinned with a closed lip.

“Well, it makes you look like a badass if that’s any comfort.”

Mingyu let his hair flop back into place and laughed quietly. “What’s up with your hand? That cut looked so nasty.”

Looking down at your fingers, you probed the faint lines of where the glass had sliced your skin, engraved almost, like a stone carving.

“Kinda. It doesn’t look as cool as your eyebrow slit though. And you’re way less busted than Jun. His eye is still purple.”

For a brief ellipse you simply embraced the opportunity of being alone with Mingyu. That some higher deity had taken pity on your life barren with romance and granted you this precious exchange to add to your vault of daydreams. The more his hoarse voice lapped at your ears, surely roughened yet equally soothing, you felt your chest create a burrow for him, a gap that only he could fill. It baffled you, that Yeeun could break his heart. But it didn’t surprise you. She was built from titanium, similar to Junhui, and together they were hawks that would make prey of everyone.

“Trust me,” Mingyu said, “it wouldn’t make me feel any better if we were matching.” 

His jaw clenched, and his stare slipped to the floor for a transient moment. A nearly imperceptible breeze tickled up the back of your neck, causing you to rub at the fine hairs as Mingyu’s usual aura slowly dissipated into a much darker nuance. You gulped, attempting to laugh something of comfort back into the air.

“There’s a lot we could match in, like... bracelets! Or a necklace! Or one of those couple t-shirts... Not that we’re a couple,” stuttering helplessly, you felt electricity tingle in your cheeks, “I was just thinking about matching stuff and that popped into my hea—”

“It’s fine.” Mingyu responded, the storm clouds cast in his gaze finally ebbing away. He smiled, and a deep chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“You’re pretty cute y’know? I don’t think I’d mind.”

1 year ago –

You never spoke commonly to Mingyu about the idea of purging until you were thrust into the political nightmare on a whim, a stupid, stupid, moonstruck whim.  The few times the morbid topic arose seriously, neither of you had enlightening stories to exchange. A bitter knot lodged itself into your throat the night you reiterated to Mingyu about the tragedies concerning your parents; the disappearance of your father and the abduction of your mother, a tearful lining glossy in your eyes.

You’d never seen Mingyu express such grief when he returned the storytelling.

He moved out from his parent’s house when he was eighteen years old, his best friend, Minghao, making the journey alongside him. Faintly, you remembered Minghao, more or so from your high school days when you shared the same last period art class. He had always been rather subdue, never really speaking with anyone apart from Mingyu, though there had was a handful of times where you caught him and another boy, Wonwoo, skipping class together. Apparently Wonwoo didn’t have a very good home life. He’d supposedly been forced into purging since middle school, and his psyche never quite recovered. 

You never even saw Wonwoo smile apart from when he was with Minghao. 

However, one day that boy from your art class just disappeared, and the rumours hadn’t stopped swirling since. It was a common fact that Minghao never purged. He didn’t have any bad blood with anyone either.

Not that you were aware of.

In the beginning stages of Mingyu’s purging he used to commonly venture with a group of three friends. Wonwoo happened to be one of them, plus another named Jihoon (who you could recall dawdling around in the background of the party) though Mingyu never named the third. He described it as being pure, inexplicable dread. They were constantly finding themselves in gruesome situations that forced their true colours from camouflage, how they stole burning glimpses of the other when the night came to an end and blood was caked to their clothing. The purge had tainted all of them, some more than others, whether it be with drug addiction, eternal madness, or an unhealthy fascination to mend so seamlessly with the evil that they personified it.

However, genuine fear pitted in the core of your stomach when Mingyus’ fists had clenched in his lap, his features distracted by a look of anguish as he sucked in a breath and spoke in an unsettling, distant tone.

“It was four of us in my car. I was driving, Wonwoo and Jihoon were in the backseat, and he... he took up the passenger seat. It was different... How he reacted to the purge... The rest of us were still somewhat fearful of it but he almost thrived in all the destruction. We were even talking about going purging without him the next year, but...

Mingyu had to clear his throat.

“I guess Minghao was waiting for me to come back to the house. He probably wasn’t even waiting on me specifically, he had this little crush on one of my friends, Wonwoo. They were always messing around together. Minghao probably got excited when he heard us, so he came outside, onto the grass... But then I heard the pop of the gun out the open window... I just... I don’t fucking know if he thought Minghao was a maniac or... If he was on drugs or something... But, God... He just —“

You didn’t allow him to say anymore when his words became warped, when his voice cracked and his eyes split like a sheet of broken glass. Minghao didn’t just disappear - he was killed, and Mingyu knew who was responsible. Instead of pressing him for details, you reached for his hand, rubbed your thumb along his knuckles, made sure he knew that you were there for him. 

And yet you had been thrust into the setting of the same picture during your first purge, the first time you had ever experienced what it was like to harm someone, turning their existence into an irreparable patch in the universe.

This is your emergency broadcast system, announcing the commencement of the annual purge.

At the siren, all crime, including murder, will be legal for twelve hours.

All emergency services will be suspended.

Your government thanks you for your participation.

“This is going to be your entire fault if I die tonight, Mingyu! I just want you to know that!”

“Relax. You’re going to be fine. We’re going to be fine.”

It was nothing short of chaotic. Pitch blackness shrouded the skylight like a heavy cloth, the distant rattle of gunfire and screams sitting heavy in the air as you raced down the street. The horrendous acts were most commonly centred to the city’s heart, where prime businesses, rich corporations, and notorious killers congregated to create havoc. Still, that didn’t make you any less petrified, your nails sinking into Mingyu’s hand like dog’s teeth. Fights were slowly beginning to litter the sidewalk, a store going up in orange flame and hissing embers now glinting behind you.

“I knew that we weren’t going to make it back to your place on time. I knew it was stupid that we even questioned going out on purge in the first place - Ah!”

You shrieked at an unprecedented decibel as two men came tumbling out of the alleyway only meters away from your feet, your body slamming into Mingyu’s backside when he cemented himself to a halt. The men payed no notice to you, entirely engulfed in their own world of vengeance through bloodied fists and messy punches.

“This way.” Mingyu’s words were like a breeze in the midst of a hurricane.

You hardly registered he’d even said anything until his grip lurched you forward and you were stumbling to the opposite side of the street. Then, your jogging pace skyrocketed into running, the breaths just squeezing from between your lips and the pain in your chest aching so potently you felt like vomiting. Your stamina was breaking faster than glass. You couldn’t afford to run any longer.

“M-Mingyu, can we please stop?”

The boy didn’t seem to have a choice as your fingers began unclasping from his hand, your body collapsing on the concrete staircase belonging to the city bell tower. Mingyu anxiously carded his hair back, his eyes moving hyperactively down the street only to be greeted with more and more violence consuming his vision. Gunshots seemed to thunder from every direction, splintered shouts joining hymn. Large trucks blared down the black pavement with ominous members hunched in the open cap, holding weaponry and wearing masks of painted wood.

The boy squatted down, his palm firmly encasing your cheek and keeping your head up.

“I’ll give you a minute. But then we have to keep going. It’s too dangerous to stay in one spot.”

You stared into Mingyu’s face with a tiresome expression, the bronzed and gleaming hue of his skin reflecting the fire that crackled in the distance. His touch became sterner as he moved in closer, his eyes no less than a few inches from your own.

“Trust me, I know you’re exhausted. We’re gonna be at my place soon though, okay? You just gotta hold tight for a little longer.” He pressed his forehead against yours, and met your gaze head on. “I’m going to keep you safe, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

An intruding shout echoed a little too closely down the street, engendering you to choke on your own heartbeat. Mingyu growled in irritancy, pivoting his head and glaring at the stranger who stepped from an alleyway. Rather than looking frightened (you were on the verge of sobbing bullets), Mingyu’s forehead crinkled angrily, the tiny scar that cut through his brow beginning to slant.

“Stay put.” Mingyu commanded you.

There was a colder lining to his tone that you’d never heard before, malevolent and icy. As soon as his touch fell from your cheek, you knew his hands were about to tend to a much different matter. Your mind implored for you to look away, yet your heart waned for the exact opposite. The man was scraggly and a bit stockier than Mingyu, a mischievous intent welling in his movement as he seemed to dance back and forth like a hummingbird. He wore a smooth, white mask and a heavy brown coat that bore many unidentified stains, a long, curved blade in his hand.

“You’re just a kid,” the man taunted, “it’s always the younger crowd that get so riled about the concept of murder, think they’re all that, but they drop faster than flies when it comes down to it.”

Mingyu didn’t waver. “You should keep talking if you want that knife poking through the opposite side of your throat.”

You inhaled stiltedly. This was definitely not the same Mingyu who smiled with the power of a burning star, his mannerisms filling your chest with laughter and his golden eyes bathing your face with heat. You thought back to the library, the conversation that drawled behind you. This was the Mingyu they were talking about. You had a feeling that the innocent projections in your head were close to changing.

The man chuckled and pointed his knife, shaking it at Mingyu, “you’ve got the same cockiness as that rich China boy’s little clique. I’m sure you’ve heard about them. They’ll be flocking to the streets any minute now.”

Mingyu spoke gutturally in response, the disgust and repulsion so thick in his voice you almost couldn’t recognize it. “Don’t you fucking dare compare me to him.”

The man chuckled darkly, “hit a nerve, did I?”

You weren’t sure what happened next, mainly because it all happened so fast, a series of swift movements (on Mingyu’s behalf) that resulted in your pulse fizzling like hot oil. Ultimately you were going to be exposed to murder one way or another, though watching it reflect in the glassy curve of your own eyes left behind a deep scarring. The man lurched at Mingyu with his hefty blade slashing for the chest, most likely assuming that because of Mingyu’s height he would be quite slow and lack agility.

However, that was severely not the case, to the man’s dismay more than anyone else’s. Within the span of sixty measly seconds Mingyu had tripped him onto his back, snatched the blade from his grip and wedged the knife directly into the man’s windpipe, exactly as he said he would do.

At that point you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. Mingyu’s breathing was level as he rose from the man’s waist, a burgundy pool of blood bubbling at the neck where the blade had punctured skin. Mingyu lifted his jacket, pulled the knife out, and attached the weapon through his belt. He spent an extra few moments patting the fresh corpse down until he uncovered a small revolver hidden in the inside pocket on the man’s coat. When Mingyu handed you the revolver in means of protection, you didn’t realize you were shivering.

“Now,” he pronounced, “we’re going home.”

And at the time you believed him. 

Until thirty minutes stretched into an hour, an hour into two hours, three hours, four hours. The chaos that was the purge had encompassed you both. This supposedly psychological device controlled you like a ventriloquist. Violence sneered at every turn and eventually an unspoken conclusion emerged; that it was easier to join chaos than it was to run from it. Later that night everything came full circle. 

You were the one pointing the weapon, aiming the silver barrel into the face of the man who had broken in your home and abducted your mother last year, on account of stupid, petty crimes your father had committed in the past. Seconds before touching the trigger, all you could picture was his face swathed in moonlight, the horror that clawed in your stomach when you ran down from your room that night to see him yanking her out the smashed window. 

And when you felt the release of the bullet, it became emboldened that it truly was a small, cruel world.

Present –

Squeezing one eye shut, you held the black gun with both hands and aimed the muzzle toward a tree stump that acted as your target, a cheek pressed into the taunt muscle of your shoulder as you inhaled a steadying breath. Delicate winds blew across the meadow, each strand of grass rippling in a hypnotic wave. The horizon lay beyond the tree trunk, a bleeding yellow sun submerging quietly behind the endless terrain, casting a honeyed glow to speckle like rain droplets upon your face.

There was not a single sound apart from the grassy fronds tickling against each other, your concentration solidifying to a mar in the tree bark. Then, your finger ghosted over the trigger, a sharp burst echoing into the pale yellow sky and causing a distant congregation of birds to take flight. The bullet struck the wood, right where you had envisioned the lead entering.

“Look at you,” the tension keyed into your bones drifted away, exiting your body in a shallow exhale once Mingyu’s prideful tone filled the spaces between the winds, “your shot may be even better than mine now.”

After lowering the firearm to face the earth and switching the safety on, a demure smile danced across your lips. Mingyu’s arms were strong and looping carefully around your waist, hauling you back into the broad expanse of his chest. He buried his face into the smooth plane where your shoulder met your neck, his soft locks feathering along your jaw. You giggled the second his lips kissed your shoulder, evening sunlight spilling across the meadow and encouraging heat to caress your skin.

“The student becomes the teacher,” you purred, “I even remembered to turn the safety on this time.”

“You’re damn right you remembered to turn the safety on,” the boy quipped sternly, his palms gliding downward to grip your hips and spin you around, “you almost took my kneecap off the last time.”

Furrowing your brows, you pursed your lip at him petulantly, “can we stop talking about that? It was a mistake you big idiot.”

“I know, I know,” Mingyu cooed, “a very, very, very dangerous mistake.”

You rolled your eyes as he unwound the black firearm from your fingers. He walked toward his jacket that sat on the blanket you’d strewn across the grass, making sure to place it back inside the pocket.

“You still need some more practice, but I think for today we can call it quits. How does that sound?”

The boy then fell back onto the blanket with his head titled to the side, his eyes staring up at you winsomely. With the sun flaring behind you, the vibrant streaks set the grass aflame, making it appear as though Mingyu was sitting in the centre of a fire. His skin twinkled like golden silk and his canines peaked between his lips in a smirk. Shrugging your shoulders impetuously, you stumbled toward the blanket and fell into the boy’s lap, squirming against his broad body until he became pinned beneath your weight. As though he were a glass vase, you gingerly swept your finger along his scarred brow.

“Sounds fine,” you hummed, “since I kinda wanna makeout with you right now.”

“I love how straightforward you are, baby.” Mingyu confessed with his intoxicated gaze drinking in your image, already imploring for a taste of the strawberry balm that defined the pretty arches of your mouth.

Unable to quell how your body yearned for him, you gave your eyes a toss and pressed your lips to his. Mingyu craned his neck forward in immediate desperation to feel more pressure against his mouth; however, he soon gave up his craning and allowed his elbows to give out beneath him. His hands snuck beneath your shirt, to which he placed soft squeezes against your ribcage, fingertips skimming lower and lower until they were running along the back hem of your shorts. You continued to straddle his waist as the kiss drawled further, rhythmically slow and sweet.

You didn’t think it was humanly possible for your chest to be so encompassed with fondness, yet here you were, brushing your digits through Mingyu’s tresses, pressing your forehead to his, encasing his lower lip between your teeth to experimentally tug until the flesh swelled and glistened in garnet. You weren’t really sure how you started dating, it just sort of happened. It was perhaps an escalation of lingering touches, infatuated glances, and hot, fever dreams that kept you both slamming awake at blue midnight.

After your first purge together, the connection between you strengthened, like welding two pieces of molten iron into one. It was an experience that ruined you, stripped you of any innocent fragments still clinging to your bone, and once the night came to an end and you were sitting on Mingyu’s bed with blood spatters sopped into your cloths, you burst into tears. Strangely, you weren’t sobbing out of pain, mortification, you were sobbing because you could. It was the only accurate way to depict the weird melancholic, hopeless lump in your throat.

You squeaked as Mingyu grew impatient of your slow kisses. His want was increasing and he couldn’t bear to hear the quiet mewls that kept slipping from your mouth. His strength effortlessly allowed him to flip you on your back, his mass keeping you slack against the blanket as his lips dotted your jaw, your ear’s cusp, until he craved to taste more of the natural salt on your skin and his kisses ventured further down your throat.

Mingyu began suckling at a sensitive patch near your pulse. The warmth of his tongue combined with his teeth, and you felt him scrape his canines sharply against your skin. It wasn’t until the boy nudged his thigh between your legs that your fingers lurched into his scalp, tugging the earth fronds tightly. You couldn’t help but buck up against him, summoning a growl from his chest that only made him press his fangs into the soft skin with more force; not enough to actually break the petal-thin flesh, but enough to leave deep, possessive indentations. The ecstasy drumming in your veins was insatiable.

And yet, you knew it couldn’t progress.

With a fragile whine you placed your hands against Mingyu’s chest and gave the giant a small push, his mouth regretfully detaching from the beautiful marks he was intent on leaving all over your body. He spoke coarsely, breathlessly, when his rosy face surfaced from your neck, though the glaze in his eyes had quickly softened out of fear he’d made you uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong? I wasn’t being too rough, was I?” He gathered your hand in his and kissed along your knuckles apologetically.

“No, not at all,” You mumbled, still dealing with the blare of crimson running through your veins, “I just… Don’t think we should, do it, in a field.”

The hollow grooves in Mingyu’s features immediately flushed with solace, a large sigh escaping from his chest as he allowed his head to tumble into your shoulder.

“Thank God, I thought I hurt you or something,” he heaved in relief.

Your heart sang wildly, knowing that he truly was a boy gentler than butterfly wings and softer than cotton. It was difficult to imagine him as the same boy who ruthlessly shoved a blade through a man’s windpipe, allowing thick trails of blood to slide from the open wound and create morbid puddles on the hard cement. The evening air seemed to turn cooler, the wind’s peaceful lilting now picking up with more vigor. Mingyu collapsed at your side, one of his long legs still tossed over your waist as you stroked his hair.

With the sun halfway behind the horizon, you gulped whilst watching the yellow sky fade into watered, fierce shades of orange.

“Mingyu?” You hummed.

“Yeah?” His warm breath scattered in a ticklish manner against your neck.

“What’s going to happen with you and Junhui?”

Mingyu stiffened instantly. Nibbling on your lower lip, you watched with sincere eyes as the boy lifted into a sitting position. You joined him, closely monitoring the contours of his face that had surely twisted at the mention of the sinister purger. There was no room to blame Mingyu for harbouring such distaste toward the boy. Junhui did swoop in and steal his ex-girlfriend fresh after the breakup and run purge night like he invented the device himself.

Still, you wondered if there could be something more. If there could be a more profound explanation for why the air was so stale between them.

“Nothing is going to happen,” Mingyu said flatly, “are you scared?”

Caught off guard by his sudden questioning, you stumbled over your syllables for a painful second, his gaze turning back to wrack you curiously.

“N-No, I was- I just- I was only wondering.”

“He’s too obsessed with himself to care about me. Don’t worry, okay? Nothing is going to happen, baby.” Mingyu said in a much lighter tone, his signature, canine smile quirking along his lips. 

Despite his calm protrusions, you could sense that something murky was swimming behind the curve in his eyes. The boy leaned backward and planted his lips against your forehead, leaving a small, adoring kiss. Shaking away the ominous tension that came with simply speaking the purger’s name, you grasped for Mingyu’s hand and smiled.

“Let’s head back into town.”

He set his jacket as well as the blanket in the backseat and climbed to sit at the wheel.

“Don’t forget about that, y’know,” you reminded him whilst gesturing to his jacket, “it’s not like there’s a gun in there or something.”

“A gun with the safety on.” He replied sheepishly, to which you simply huffed and stared out the window.

You stopped Mingyu when you were no less than a block away from your new apartment building, the tires crunching to a halt beside the common coffee shop.

“I’ll get out here,” you told him, “I’ll be fine to walk back to the complex. I just really want caffeine.”

Mingyu leaned over and pushed the car door open for you, his palm tenderly grazing your thigh as he found your lips. He gave you a quick goodbye kiss, and you felt flowers bloom between the bones of your ribcage.

“Text me when you get home, alright?” He reminded when you slid from the passenger seat.

Scurrying into the coffee shop, you already had an idea of what drink you’d like to get. As you stood off to the side waiting for an employee to call out your coffee, you fell into a slight trance, your eyes casting mistily across the cozy atmosphere whilst the sky began darkening beyond the clean window panes. You thought about Mingyu, how laughable it was that you were dating, and yet you knew you loved him like ink loves to kiss paper.

Hm, you chuckled inwardly, that girl sitting in that booth by the window, she looks like Yeeun, and that guy beside her really resembles Junhui. That’s funny.

That’s funny.

That’s… funny…

“Order 24, half decaf, two sugars one cream.”

To your inexplicable terror, heart-twisting dread, and every other repulsive emotion that could have cloaked you in that moment of realization, the couple sitting at the window booth was indeed Junhui and Yeeun. The employee called out your order again, this time a little louder, drawing customers to look left and right with puzzled glances. The nefarious couple was sitting across from two familiar faces, one with jet black hair brushed away from his forehead, the other disquieting with how vacant his face appeared, a grey beanie pulling back the fronds from his porcelain features, and a lollipop shoved between his lips.

It took you a minute, but you eventually recognized the lollipop boy as Wonwoo. He looked insanely different compared to your outdated, high school memories, where he was just a scrawny, fox-faced boy with the straightest black bangs you’d ever seen, always running around next to Minghao, getting pink in the face when the younger so much as smiled at him. It was evident that purging had completely hardened his face, his aura, to which he developed an almost sinister light. Whoever he was now, he definitely wasn’t the same boy. Jihoon sat next to him, impatiently spinning a stir stick between his fingers.

You didn’t know why you weren’t moving. Mingyu’s words rang in your head.

Are you scared?

Craving nothing more than for a sinkhole to form beneath your feet and swallow you whole, you did the sole thing your body permitted you to do; walk sternly out the coffee shop and pretend you never ordered a single thing.

God - I hope they didn’t see me. That would be the last thing I want, for Junhui and his purging buddies to have anything to do with me.

Jihoon and Wonwoo with Junhui was odd. Had they always been friends? Junhui never attended your high school either, rather he used to be a student at a prestigious private school you couldn’t ever dream of getting into.

Your apartment was close. You could distinguish its height amongst the low-cut buildings lining the sidewalk. If you just walked a little faster, you could be up the cement staircase, swinging open the glass doorway, and be safe within the front lobby. Titling your head back you quickly ogled at the sky. It wasn’t completely black yet, but there were distant tinges of dark, oily colours that pressed down like a heavy thumbprint amongst the grey. The wind picked up behind you, slamming into your backside in menacing howls.

Finally, you’d reached the cement steps—

But it was too late.

His tone was smoother than a crystal ball, lower than baritone, and incredibly seasoned at feigning genuineness. Hearing your name cascade from his mouth that was deceivingly shaped as a heart made your breath flatten. You didn’t want to turn around and face him, but it was too late to pretend you never heard his chant. Unwillingly, your body pivoted like a stone statue, your foot taking that one victorious step back as it left the staircase.

“You walk so fast, you could have been sprinting.”

“Exercise is good.” You nearly wheezed.

For the first time, you realized just how tall Junhui was, his body appearing as a shadowy mass as the wind blew the tails of his trench coat. His brows were slanted, lips quirked, his irises so rounded you could hardly see the white bits. He was handsome in the way that some people found graveyards entrancing. It was the eeriness that allured you.

“You left your coffee.” He stated.

“I realized I had somewhere to be.” You tried to hold his gaze, but it was impossible to evade the nervous eye fluttering.

“As anyone would, it’s getting late.”

The wind whistled between you, dark clouds swirling above your head as though the sky were a witch’s cauldron.

“I think it might rain,” you said meekly, “are you looking to ask me something?”

Junhui took a step forward. He’d never been this close to you before, maybe a few inches away from the tip of your nose. Your gaze tripped to his eye, the eye that Mingyu had driven his clenched fist into that one night, causing Junhui’s head to thrust back against the plaster. You swallowed the salty brick in your throat.

“I heard you like to purge now.” Junhui said with a smile. You swore his caramel gaze glinted with excitement.

Your blood froze. How did he know about that? Junhui saw through you like a translucent piece of plastic. He saw how you inwardly panicked.

“I was surprised,” he cooed, “you don’t seem like the type… But I suppose all that running around with Mingyu changed your morals.”

Your heart was beating at such a frantic pace you feared it may dislodge itself from your chest and land in your mouth.

“I’m so elated you found purpose,” his midnight fronds then fell mischievously before his eyes, keeping the candor of his secrets hidden from you, “the purge is a time of cleansing intended to help people like us find a little alleviation in the world. That one person whose been causing you grief? You won’t have to worry about their disgusting discrepancy that makes you so infuriated. It’s quite healing,” Junhui purred, “if you ask me.”

It felt as though someone just ripped your tongue from between your teeth. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. A splash of rain thumped your forehead, and yet you allowed the cold bead to trickle along the side of your nose and run onto your cheek. Junhui’s hand delicately raised, his thumb caressing the droplet away. He stood closer now, eliminating any room in which the wind could whisper through, his bangs tickling your forehead as his onyx pupils bore through your heated face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, looking toward your lips through his heavy lashes, his fingers pointing your chin upward, “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt just because Mingyu can’t take care of you.”

“I-I trust him,” You managed to squeak, though it required every bone in your body to summon equal modicums of courage.

“C’mon,” Junhui seemed to taunt, “you know who I am, right? I can have any weapon, any blueprint, any ctv footage I want directly in my hands, and all it takes is a single phone call.” He grinned wolfishly. “Besides, Mingyu doesn’t have the most durable history of looking out for others.”

His grip on your chin hardened like steel, heart-shaped lips pressed lightly to your ear’s cusp, “you do know what happened to Minghao, don’t you?”

Your body turned more frigid than ice, the warm blood that pumped beneath your skin running colder with every second that Junhui stood, seeing straight through you and to his old friend he’d hurt so dearly. You instantly grew sick to your stomach. The universe beyond Junhui’s shadow was spinning wildly, darting in nauseating circles like a carousel. The images came in flickers; the truck pulling into the driveway, the window cranking down, the crack of the gun as its bullet pierced a shape in the darkness. No wonder Jihoon and Wonwoo were friends with Junhui. He had been the other person in Mingyu’s car.

You felt lightheaded, like you were going to faint.

“I’ll let you go, but just consider your options. Really, truly consider them.” Junhui murmured. “I’m sure you have some personal contentions kept covert beneath that kind tongue of yours. Given your participation, I know you can upheaval your need to feel purification. If you’re wise, you’ll cleanse with us, with me, as you are entitled to.”

Without a single ripple Junhui broke away, his touch drifting like the edges of a silk blanket from your cheek. Immediately afterward, a disturbing burst of wind whipped between your bodies, inducing a long shiver that crept down your spine and fizzled at your fingertips. Your throat felt like cracked sandpaper and your chest bottomed out with a horrendous, wrenching fear.

Junhui knew that Mingyu didn’t fear him, but he knew that you feared him, and he knew that your fear would grow to consume you now that you’d been introduced to the devastating truth. 

The radio was on, high-pitched static and monotonous advisement rasping through the car’s sound system. It was clear that in time, there would be a chorus of other harsh noises leaping to fill the sky, any pockets of oxygen, and the spaces that lingered between your hazy breathing. Yet in the dense heat, you could care less.

This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of The Annual Purge, sanctioned by the government.

It was hot, burning. The air felt like scorching linen that pressed fire into your skin. Mingyu’s teeth scraped along your collarbones, the thin layer of flesh that mapped over them singed with bruises and bites and kisses that still glistened.

Weapons of Class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.

The radio continued to blip. Your fingers tangled through his earth-toned tresses, gripping the thick strands and tugging on them as your throat started to ache. The windows were splotched with oily fingerprints that had been left earlier, when you first climbed onto his lap.

Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.

Your legs quivered over his thighs, his hands guiding your hips with such a brute strength that the pain welled into numbness and everything that surrounded you seemed nonexistent, save for where your bodies connected like a jewel to its staff. His forehead fell on your shoulder, groans muffled as they brushed your hot skin. He continued to hit deep, and you knew you couldn’t hold on for much longer, the sparks catching a foreshadowing flame 

Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.

It was then, when your weight came down on his lap for the final time, his hips stuttering upward at the perfect moment, that your head tossed back and you felt the energy rip from your body in a single scream. Mingyu wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you flush against him, working the pleasure for all its worth. You then buried your face into his neck, a soft sea of your whimpers filling the thick air whilst Mingyu emptied inside you, filling you with warmth.

Police, fire and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7am, when the Purge concludes.

For a moment, you just needed to close your eyes and breathe in his scent, hear his heartbeat, feel the familiar heat spread throughout your abdomen. He squeezed your hips tight, and his words were barely audible, attempting to drown over the radio’s static as well as the heavy breaths from your lungs. You heard them, even if your ears really had to strain to decipher the syllables whispered at the peak of his sensitivity. Mingyu said he loved you, and he meant it with every ounce of his soul as he felt your body shake in his arms.

Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and a nation, reborn.

And you would have meekly hummed the words in return, if the sudden cacophony of a siren didn’t shred the air like pastry, startling your system that had just come down from the best cloud nine experience you could ever fathom. It would have been wondrous to bask in the afterglow, to trace patterns on his biceps and run your lips over the scar in his brow.  It had all been purloined from you in an instant. Though your centre still ached, you crept off his lap and into the passenger seat, cleaning yourself up as best you could.

“Here,” Mingyu held out his jacket that he’d tossed in the backseat, probably since your training in the fields, “it’ll keep you warm if it actually rains tonight.”

“Thanks.” You murmured whilst slipping the fabric around your body, noting that something a little heavy was inside one of the pockets. You remembered the gun was still inside. Suddenly, Mingyu started the car, the engine purring lowly and musty clouds of exhaust puffing into the empty parking lot.

He tapped the steering wheel with his palm, “where should we head?”

When the sirens faded away, you looked to him and smiled, “wherever you want.”

The red sun seemed anxious to disappear, for its rays cracked across the sky like bloodied, broken ice, hurriedly pushing itself further below the horizon as Mingyu drove into town. The Purge never introduced an easy atmosphere to stomach, yet tonight, you felt the bile in your throat was more acidic than usual. Maybe it was because you knew a huge secret, one that tied Mingyu’s hatred to Junhui’s existence.

You didn’t confess to Mingyu anything. Every word that seeped like a venom from Junhui’s lips was sealed within you, and only you. It was already painful enough for Mingyu to brace through such a traumatic incident. There would come a time when he told you his reasons for hating Junhui, and that time had yet to come.

Even so, the terror was exhausting. The first few nights after your encounter with Junhui, your slumber was plagued by gruesome nightmares, his comfortable laughter, and the black fire that seeped in his eyes as though he were some underworld creature. You’d slam awake in a cold sweat. At times you’d be so drenched that you needed to take a shower before going back to sleep, that is, if your mind allowed you to. Sometimes you would phone Mingyu and lie to him, tell him you needed to hear the brass in his voice as your nighttime spell.

You never told him about the nightmares, the panic, or the anxiety. Now the Purge had returned after its position was quelled in the nation for a year. Your head turned to glance more thoroughly out the window after you flitted past a man holding an axe tool, a painted mask shielding his face.

It didn’t take long for the streets to begin flooding with people of the same stature, and if their eyes of thirst were hidden behind costumes, then it became more than evident in the weaponry that adorned their guises. Mingyu seemed calm as he stared out the dash, his eyes giving away nothing that would hint toward his inner complex. You sighed and let your cheek rest in your palm, your gaze unable to stop tracing each and every person that emerged from the dark crevices.

About forty-five minutes had passed, driving around the quieter outskirts of the city. Looking into the side-mirror, you watched as the occasional killing occurred behind you.

Mingyu smiled. “The night just started and you already look like you’re over it.”

The echo of a gun pierced the air. You cringed slightly.

“I don’t know if I’m over it or not. I guess I’m thinking about how I’ll ever suppress witnessing senseless murder, y’know?”

The boy gently stuck his arm out, across the glove compartment, his thumb stroking your cheek for a fond moment.

“We don’t have to hang around. I can drive up to the field where we’ll be away from the worst of it. What do you want, baby?” He asked.

You scratched at your knuckles and puffed through your nose. “I don’t even know what I want. Am I supposed to feel this way?”

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, “what way?”

“Melancholic, sorta like everything seems pointless. How do you feel?”

Mingyu took a wide turn to avoid a collection of smashed bottles that glinted on the road, increasing the vehicle’s speed steadily as the chaos increased. Like your first Purge, you saw the distant glow of burning buildings appear across the lake, at the other side of the city.

“I don’t even know if I can describe it anymore.” He shrugged.

You turned your head to look at him, deciding to ask something rather abrupt, but a topic you were curious on nonetheless. 

“Why did you start purging?”

The boy’s canines pushed into his bottom lip as he probed his mind.

“Because I was friends with someone who wanted to. Even involving yourself once makes enemies. You can’t hide from it after that.” 

Staring at the side of his face, you felt almost dirty for knowing a pivotal piece belonging to Mingyu’s past.

“Were you friends with Junhui?”

There was a thick silence as you waited for Mingyu’s response.

“At one point, yes.” He admitted, his words sounding distasteful. 

You shifted up in the seat, stretching out your hand to rub Mingyu’s bicep. 

“I don’t care if you were. I know you aren’t the same as him, and that this night changes people. You don’t let it consume you like he does.”

Mingyu took a turn through a wide alleyway to avoid a hostile situation escalating at the far end of the intersection. You didn’t get a good look as the sky was continuing to lose its orange light, but the flash of the group’s masks and weapons was convincing enough to take a different path.

You couldn’t help but note that Mingyu’s eyes had become slightly watered.

“It was never about purification,” he told you, “I never had any specific target, or someone I detested. Neither did Jun. But he comes from a family that relies on purging as their income. His mom designs weapons and his dad works for some underground branch, assigning bounties. He just isn’t the same as us. I was lucky if I could even hold a gun in my hands without trembling. I had to learn how to desensitize myself. For Jun, it was almost natural.”

A familiar sickness made your stomach twirl.

“It’s sad he had to grow up like that.” You sighed, glancing out the window whilst Mingyu remained silent. 

A few minutes later, and you were laughing. “I didn’t mean to make the mood so terrible. I was just wondering.”

“I know,” Mingyu said, his lips curling warmly, “I can’t blame you for being curious, baby. I just don’t think back on my past all that much.”

He then gave you a thoughtful look, and your chest started fluttering embarrassingly fast. “I like focusing on right now, where I have you.”

It was quiet again, to which you let your thoughts roam astray. 

You pictured the night your father disappeared, the night your mother’s life was taken away from her when she wasn’t even capable of defending herself. The feeling of coming down the stairway to broken glass, spilt moonlight, and a dirtied face lugging her away couldn’t be compared to any pain. And daring to unlock that enraged, bitter half of yourself, you thought to applying pressure on the trigger that killed the man responsible for her death.

Those memories influenced your appreciation, your gratitude, toward Mingyu, the boy who you had always admired at a distance, never knowing he could be so tender and benevolent. It was possible that you could have turned out similar to Junhui if you let your indignation take control. Seeing how Mingyu always remained so grounded helped you keep your footing, and you hoped there never came a day when you started looking at the world how Junhui did.

All of sudden, your musing was shattered when a pick-up truck roared from an alleyway and soared into the street, plumes of grey smoke pumping from its pipes as the tires screeched against the asphalt.

”Mingyu, watch out!” You screeched, gripping the steering wheel.

At the same time, Mingyu veered away from the truck, your heart nearly tearing a hole right through your chest as the head of your vehicle rammed into a light post. The collision jolted your body forward, though the seatbelt kept you strapped in and unscathed. Mingyu cursed through his teeth.

“Fuck, are you okay?” He rasped.

“I-I’m fine. Let’s just get the hell out of here.” You replied shakily.

Mingyu’s facial expression relaxed for less than a second. He appeared ready to oblige, though casting another inspection into his features relayed a nauseating truth. Suddenly, Mingyu’s hand gripped the back of your neck and he forced your head down between your legs. You heard it, the crisp echo of a gunshot. Except there was no bullet that punctured the glass and made fragments rain over your body. There was no dent in the metal door either. The barrel was purposely aimed to a different area, and as the second shot fired off, you felt like passing out.

They’re shooting at the tires.

Mingyu whispered to you with a coarse urgency, “this way!”

He’d managed to open his door, your only choice of escape a labyrinth of alleyways that lay beyond the mangled car. The alleys were dark, damp, and most likely rife with impending danger. Your throat closed in when you attempted to swallow. You could see the blade that Mingyu had collected from the console, already tight in his hand. Licking your leathered lips, you squirmed out his side after he’d gone through. He was squatted down, waiting for you.

Just as you joined him, you cast a glance above Mingyu’s head, your blood turning into ice as a slim figure appeared around the back end of the car. It was a man, dressed in a black raincoat, long and glossy. He was wearing a dirtied, white mask, where kohl paint was runny down the large eyes and the mouth was outlined in a red marker. Next to his side was the long barrel of a shotgun, and you felt unimaginably dizzy. Mingyu immediately identified the terror that leaked into your gaze, and with a thick gulp, he dared stare over his shoulder.

“Hey Mingyu,” the stranger mumbled, taking the pointed chin of the mask and tipping it upward, revealing a fox-like face, “long time no see.”

Mingyu wrapped his fingers around your hand and stood up slowly, ensuring your body was sheltered by his size. You breathed as quietly as your vandalized chest would allow, your diaphragm keening to erupt. 

“Wonwoo?” Mingyu echoed, “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Didn’t mean to scare you or anything.” The boy said, his voice very deep and smooth. The depth reverberated in your chest and made your skin crawl.

“Are you crazy, dude?” Mingyu growled. “You shot out my fucking tires.”

Wonwoo scratched the nape of his neck. “I was just following orders.”

You had no idea what was happening. The only piece of concrete knowledge that hadn’t been fogged over in tangible fear was that you could still hear incessant firing in the distant, chaotic screaming and rioting. Looking down to the blade that glinted in Mingyu’s palm, you were able to plant a little reassurance in yourself knowing of his skill and ability to stay grounded. Keeping your mouth shut, you held Mingyu’s hand in a vice grip.

“Following orders from who? What are you talking about? Are you wired?”

“It’s understandable you would think that,” Wonwoo sighed, “but I’m not. If I were though, your death might be a little easier.”

“Since when are you supposed to kill me?” Mingyu sounded flat out bewildered.

It was then that it dawned on you: Mingyu really had no idea Wonwoo was still a part of Junhui’s brigade. 

Grinding your teeth together in contemplation, you finally decided to swallow the grain in your throat and break the truth. Getting close to Mingyu’s ear, you whispered to him what you knew, no matter how much of a fable it may be perceived as. Visibly, his body stiffened. His fingers gripped the blade’s handle with an unprecedented rage. 

“What are you doing?” Mingyu implored, candor in his despair. “Even after what he did to Minghao? What the hell is holding you to him?”

“It’s nothing personal, but as you know already, Junhui is filthy rich,” Wonwoo gloomed, cocking the barrel once more, “and he’s promised me some things.”

Mingyu clenched his jaw. “You mean more of those drugs he keeps stealing from his dad’s lab? Wonwoo, what the fuck happened to you? The last time I heard from you, you were getting clean, you were going to start fresh!”

There was an unorthodox twinkle in his black stare, oddly full of emotion, hurt, repressed pain that cut deeper inside than out. 

“I tried,” Wonwoo stated, a slight anger tainting his voice, “I went to three different rehabilitation clinics. I took a vacation to the rural springs and received lessons in guided meditation and bought myself a journal so I could document my success in getting clean. And you know what? I haven’t touched that journal since the day I fucking bought it. Tell me, Mingyu. How the fuck am I supposed to care about staying clean, how the fuck am I supposed to care about anything when I saw the love of my life get fucking shot right in front of me?”

Mingyu shook his head in disbelief, “Wonwoo, I--, I know that was horrible, I know that hurt you and--”

“Just shut up,” the elder interrupted flatly, “maybe today I’ll actually feel something when I put this barrel between your eyes.”

It was impossible to stand by and remain silent. Chewing on your bottom lip, you gathered a modicum of courage and poked your head around Mingyu’s shoulder.

“So you’re going to kill us just because Junhui wants you to? That’s how you’re going to live the rest of your life? Listening to his psychotic fantasies about purification and entitlement?”

Wonwoo narrowed his eyes at you, his jaw taunt.

“I know you loved Minghao, I know your life hasn’t felt the same since. Minghao was Mingyu’s best friend too. You weren’t the only one who lost somebody. Do you think when I came downstairs at fourteen years old and saw my mother get pulled away through the window that I wasn’t upset, angry, confused at the world? Junhui just sees you as a pawn to delegate the matters he doesn’t want to dip his hands into, but you’re a real person. Wake up and act like it!”

For even just a fraction of a second, Wonwoo’s shoulders slumped, his finger that was feathering the gun’s trigger drifted from contact, and the stoic cloud in his eyes fuzzed a little. You were starting to feel confident. Yet just as easily as the feeling came to you, you were caught off guard by an arm that slid around your neck and lurched you backward, against a hard chest.

Mingyu barked immediately, his blade drawn and eyes wildly dilated as he turned to face the person responsible for holding onto you. Biting the inside of your mouth, you squirmed and thrashed and kicked, until something cold pressed into your temple and suddenly the energy evaporated from your body like dew droplets on an August day. 

Mingyu’s voice sounded rusty as he gaped again. “Jihoon?!”

Wonwoo piped up suddenly, and his eyes turned cold once more. “Be careful, dammit. She’s the one we can’t afford to bruise up.”

Jihoon’s arm was now wrapped around your neck, pressing against your windpipe and causing your air supply to falter. You knew it was a gun that was poking sharply into your temple. 

Mingyu’s gaze was wild and rife with fire. He growled between his teeth like a wolf. “Don’t even fucking think about it, Jihoon.”

Wonwoo stepped forward and shook his gun at the boy who was closing off on your breathing. “Junhui wants that one,” he pressed the snout of his weapon into your chin, “alive.”

Jihoon sulked, his voice rumbling in his chest, “So what’s our fun tonight? We kill Mingyu and then pack up?”

You wriggled again in Jihoon’s arms, tempted to gnaw right into his wrist. “Can we not kill anybody?!”

“Calm down,” Wonwoo instructed, “I hate shouting. If any of you shout I’m planting a bullet in your brain.”

“You’re such a bore,” Jihoon whined, pressing into your windpipe with more force, painting speckles of white across your vision. Mingyu was bubbling with rage, like a teapot left on the burner for too long, his teeth clamping down so tightly his whole face was aching.

Wonwoo used the muzzle of the gun to tip your chin toward the moonlight. “A word of advice. Stop struggling and you won’t get hurt.”

“H-He’s hurting me,” you attempted to coherently spit past the pressure concocted against your throat. Jihoon was issuing enough force to make your eyes water and your head spin. Mingyu piped up, but Wonwoo was swifter and beat him to it.

“Lighten your grip.” He told Jihoon.

“I’m not even holding her that tightly!” The boy protested. Wonwoo’s face didn’t crack. He just repeated himself with an underlying menace.

“Lighten. Your. Grip.”

“It’s all pretending! Can’t you see? They’re trying to distract you so Mingyu can shove that blade through your back. Don’t be so fucking soft, Wonwoo. Look! I’m hardly touching—“

Bang.

Wonwoo dug his gun right into Jihoon’s forehead and pulled the trigger, the strict barrier against your throat immediately releasing. A fresh gulp of air hastily entered your lungs as you stumbled, Jihoon’s body folding onto the sidewalk from the corner of you eye. Mingyu quickly caught you, cupped your face in his hands and wiped the beaded sweat at your forehead. He kept whispering to you that you were okay, repeated the words in a soothing, husky mantra, his thumbs stroking your jaw in comforting sweeps. The ringing in your ears was unfathomably painful, it stung and stung and stung.

“Well,” Wonwoo announced with a despondent sigh, setting the gun over his shoulder, “I really do hate yelling.”

Mingyu’s kissed your forehead briefly. Your lips were still dry and they struggled to form a word of thanks to Wonwoo. The boy shrugged.

“He was holding you kind of tightly.”

Mingyu gasped, “no fucking kidding.”

Wonwoo sighed. “I guess I don’t expect to live much longer now that I’ve gone and wasted my companion here with my last few bullets. Not to mention I have  prolonged the existence of your life, Mingyu, which I was strictly ordered not to do. It was nice to meet your little partner in crime too.”

“What are you talking about?” Mingyu questioned whilst gathering you into his side.

“I didn’t follow through on my order. I can’t bring myself to do it. ” Wonwoo mumbled. “We’ll catch up in the afterlife or something. Maybe where you’re going is different than where I’m about to go. You’ll probably be with Minghao while I deservedly rot. One of life’s many mysteries, right?”

There wasn’t much of an opportunity to process the situation, not when a gunshot echoed from down the alleyway and pierced the boy in his temple. The shotgun clamped in his hand clattered against the cold, concrete sidewalk, and his mask clattered off his head. His body joined the likes of Jihoon who’d been staring up at the night sky with dead, glazed eyes, a trail of red leaking down his nose. Your head pivoted and you felt a surge of vomit climb to the back of your mouth, for the person behind the trigger was Yang Yeeun, her pearl earrings flashing against the silver moonlight.

“Horrendous.” Her accent was thick with venom, heels clicking down the alleyway as she stalked in her black trousers and white dress shirt.

Intimidation sweltered against your skin at just her attire. The fact she dressed expensively for the night proved she wasn’t expecting to get in any confrontation that would result in her own blood being spilt.

“I expected Jihoon to cause trouble, but not Wonwoo. He was so promising. I guess he really did need drugs to stay sane.”

She stepped over a corpse you hadn’t noted lying face down in the alley, growling between her teeth.

“Filthy,” Yeeun remarked without a grain of empathy, “nothing but filth.”

Mingyu gripped your wrist and you felt your body stumble behind him. Keeping your arms drawn against his back and softly breathing, you inhaled the musky scents of damp, nighttime air and car exhaust. Though you couldn’t directly see Yeeun, her voice was still audible, lacquered in such a feigned delicacy it reminded you of Junhui. Mingyu hadn’t said a thing. He didn’t have to speak for you to know his heart was decaying.

“There’s my sweet boy.” Yeeun cooed. She was close now, so close you peered between Mingyu’s legs and saw her shiny heels standing in blood spatters. 

She regarded Mingyu like they were still together, like they still reflected the image of romance that was envied by so many people, you included. Her arm extended, pale, numb fingers brushing along his amber cheek. You wanted to scream at her to never touch him again. It was her own mistake to let Mingyu go, when he was positively in love with her and preached their future with honeyed words, like an artist who preaches with paint.

“You know, I miss you,” she hummed, tracing the flint of his jaw, “I’m so terribly sorry you had to witness your old best friends get a bullet to the brain, but, that is what happens when tensions are high, and, you know, we can’t afford to let many errors slip past us. Now, let’s not let that put a damper on the night. It’s still young, and so much has yet to happen. How about you come with me?”

You knew there was a handgun she was keeping pressed to her leg right now, and that if neither of you complied, it would be put to good use. Mingyu hadn’t opened his mouth. His lips were tight and his eyes were concentrated. Maybe he was trying to scheme.

Yeeun stretched out her gun and let the muzzle clink with Mingyu’s knife, trying to push the weapon from his hand.

“Just drop this and follow me, sweetheart. Due to these unforeseen events, there’s been a change and your presence has been urgently requested.”

Quicker than expected, Mingyu complied. He let the blade untwine from his grasp and rattle against the ground. If he did have some sort of plan, you were hoping that giving up his only weapon was part of it.

“She can come too,” Yeeun purred, “Junhui wants to see both of you.”

Yeeun trudged behind you, her weapon drawn, a manicured nail feathering upon the trigger just in case one of you attempted something of trickery. Tall, grimy buildings surrounded you, leading up to the black sky, where the stars gazed down in lamentation. Mingyu’s fingers were wrapped around your wrist with such steely strength that you felt your circulation dwindle, though the tiny, tingling feeling would never surpass the fear that sat like a pound of tar in your stomach. Similar to your first purge, tears pushed at your ducts, though there was a certain exhaustion shrouding your body that prevented them from falling.

Despite your unstable condition, the possibility of death snickering right in your face, the wavering thought that either Junhui or Yeeun could imbue a torturous fate, you were worried about Mingyu.

Yeeun was playing him expertly. She knew it wasn’t her heart that cracked after their breakup, it was Mingyu that suffered independently.  Only he bit the nail, only he felt the salt mix with his wounds, and only he would welt in self-contemplation over a love that he nurtured, alone. If it came down to it, and your life was on the line, would Mingyu hesitate? Would he be afraid of hurting someone he used to treasure so dearly? You didn’t doubt his affections for you. His heart was strong, but what if Yeeun’s deceit was stronger?

The labyrinth of alleyways had finally led you to a dead end. Your wrist shook in Mingyu’s grasp, for the man nonchalantly leaning against the solid wall was none other than—

“Junhui,” Yeeun cawed, “you won’t believe what the fuck just happened. Wonwoo popped Jihoon. He’s dead, should have brought more crew instead of displacing them like we did.”

She finished her sentence by fitting her gun right snug at the back of your head.

Junhui spat onto the floor before he unstuck himself from leaning against the wall, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark trench coat.  

“It doesn’t matter,” he dismissed, “using Wonwoo and Jihoon was a squander anyways. I could have concluded both their lives at a much more efficient pace. I’m guessing you took care of the traitor?”

Yeeun cackled, “right though the side of his head. He fell like a stack of cards.”

“It’s a real disappointment,” Junhui huffed, “since the beginning Wonwoo and Jihoon have shown the utmost loyalty for me and my craft. But, I guess this just demonstrates how purifying this device truly is. We’re ridding the streets of scum, aren’t we?”

Mingyu released your wrist, and you felt like a bomb had just dropped to the soles of your feet. His lips parted and his voice was deep. Hearing him speak allowed your heartbeat to calm, even with Yeeun’s gun taunt into your hair.

“The streets will never be rid of scum until you’re over and done with.”

Junhui cocked his head, his mouth falling open and his eyes twinkling as though a tiny flame had ignited in their inky depths.

“And here is the biggest traitor of them all!” 

Junhui tossed his head back and ludic laughter echoed into the compressing air, “how do you suppose you’ll rid me, Mingyu? Are you going to give me another black eye? Curse at me? Damn me to hell and back because of what happened that night? Damn me behind my back because I took Yeeun away from you? The girl you once loved and valued with your every essence?”

It was then that Junhui shifted his sights on you, his lips pulling wide in a smile.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware Mingyu, but your partner and I exchanged a very compelling conversation a while ago. I guess word never got around to you.”

Junhui’s boots dragged over the crumbs of dirt and asphalt that littered the ground, his presence nearing closer and closer. When you tried to lower your head, Yeeun’s gun pressed with a stricter force into your scalp, filling you with enough fear to keep your gaze straight.

“You’re very fortunate, Mingyu. To have such a pretty thing to call your own.”

Junhui’s hand reached for your chin. His touch was colder than the dark shadows that masked his soul, and it engendered a shiver to slither along your spine. 

“Don’t put your hands anywhere near her!” Mingyu seethed, to which Yeeun instantly switched her gun to point against the back of his skull.

You could see his jaw clench from your peripheral vision. But Junhui didn’t listen, and his thumb pushed down on your bottom lip as though he intended to brand your skin with his insanity. He spoke lowly, smoothly, confidence lathered into his every syllable.

“Do you know why I did it?” Junhui stared into your eyes and asked.

“Dd-did w-what?” You warbled.

“It wasn’t because I was jealous of Wonwoo and Minghao, or because I had some personal contention against the boy. I didn’t even think when I pressed the trigger. I spent the whole night adding so much blood to my hands, that the moment I saw another shadow move, my body just - it just acted for me. Like it was an instinct. I wasn’t sad... But I wasn’t happy. I only knew I was no longer myself... I was someone stronger, someone enhanced, and that is the greatness of this evening!”

Junhui clutched your shoulders and shook them, his eyes alight with a certain derangement that petrified you to your core.

“You’re reborn! Don’t you get it? You’re no longer tied down by the concept of goodness, and your free will is truly free. When will you two realize that--”

Out of nowhere, Mingyu shoved into your side so aggressively you stumbled sideways and collapsed on the sooty ground. The air was knocked from your lungs and your heart pumped like it had been electrocuted. Fuzzy splotches of colour coalesced before your watered vision, projecting nothing but an obnoxious blur. There was shouting, the loud crack of a harmless gunshot, and scuffling that emanated from every direction. Before you could separate the blacks from the blues, something cold wrapped around your wrist and dragged you backward. Then, your entire body was thrust up against the brick, scrapes and bruises already forming on your bare skin.

When your head stopped spinning and the world dulled down from reflecting three versions of the same image, you were shuttering, whimpering, as Junhui held you firmly against the wall.

Across the alleyway you could see that Mingyu had Yeeun pressed to the floor, his palm covering her throat whilst he took advantage of his weight to keep her slim frame still. He fought to unwind the firearm from her fingers, but when he did, the weapon was digging into her forehead. You wanted to scream at him to pull the trigger, to fucking end her already, even if your throat felt like it had been scraped of all moisture and scrubbed with a pad of steel wool. You heard Junhui snicker, his mouth twisted cynically. It was evident what he was thinking, for it was identical to your own thought.

“Like hell you’ll do it!” Junhui screamed.

If it came down to it, and your life was on the line, would Mingyu hesitate?

Love. It was just as much a weapon as it was a comfort. And as Mingyu stared down at Yeeun, silver pearls of water slipping from her brown eyes, the eyes he had fallen for, you felt consumed by terror, that your life may truly end at this exact location. Mingyu proved your doubts were transparent and his finger jammed against the trigger. Except – there was nothing, nothing at all. The gun had no ammunition left. Yeeun sighed heavily.

“Don’t do this,” she mewled, still wriggling beneath him, full-fledged tears pumping down her flushed, scarlet face, “I never meant to hurt you. It’s just – you wouldn’t understand why – he didn’t leave me any choice!”

Mingyu released his ironclad grip over her throat and used his fingers to sweep the stray hairs from her eyes.

“Shut your fucking mouth.” He abruptly snapped. “You lie through your teeth like it’s the only thing you’re good for. You don’t love anyone or anything. I bet you lost that silver spoon you were born with, huh? Daddy’s security systems aren’t as bulletproof as he thought they were? So you had to run to Junhui?”

She gargled slightly on her own saliva, coughing a bit of foam, though she never tried to respond.

Mingyu lifted Yeeun’s head in his hands. Squeezing your eyes shut didn’t make the snapping noise any less gruesome. If anything, it only amplified the sickness building in your gut, it only amplified Junhui’s enraged storm of cursing as his companion’s body went limp, her eyes stained with not even a smidgen of regret. If there was any regret at all, it was that she couldn’t have killed you herself. Hope began trickling back into your body, and, taking advantage of Junhui’s distracted vacancy, you attempted to give him a swift kick.

And yet that thought was a mistake in itself. Junhui lost his composure, his sophistication.

Your struggling only encouraged the anger spilling inside him, prompted him to uncover a blade that was hidden inside his coat, its silver gleam reflecting off your eyes for a millisecond before you felt its sharp edge nuzzle into your skin, somewhere around your stomach. A surge so violent and unbridled soared through your body, forced you to lean over the blade where your eyes soaked up the unholy sight of Junhui’s knuckles pale as snowflakes wrapped around the handle. You spluttered out nothing but air, watched as dark liquid began seeping from the wound and wetting your shirt.

Junhui took it upon himself to slowly, ever so slowly, extract the knife from its crevice, his teeth grinding together as just the point remained in your flesh. Then, he dug the blade back in through its opening, giving the weapon a slight twist. 

When Mingyu had risen from Yeeun’s corpse and tore Junhui away from you, a silent sob wobbled off your lips. At some point that your mind was too fogged to remember, you were sitting, slumped against the wall as thick, grey storm clouds crowded the night sky. When you could no longer find solace amongst the stars, your gaze flitted across the alleyway, to where Junhui and Mingyu were a vicious tangle of limbs that punched and kicked and pulled. It reminded you of the party, the stupid party that had somehow preluded your path to cross with Mingyu’s. They were shouting at one another, at war for Junhui’s knife that kept slipping from their grasps like butter.

Wincing, you stretched an arm to fold over your stomach, attempting to apply even the meekest amount of pressure to your wound. Your brow furrowed when something hard nudged against your arm, a harsh weight that seemed to sit inside your jacket.

Well, it wasn’t your jacket, it was Mingyu’s.

Chewing down on the inside of your mouth, you ignored the pain that cut through your every nerve and fought to wind your hand within the jacket, fingers poking and shuffling around until they brushed the pocket stitched to the inside. Despite your battered condition, you nearly yelped when you gripped the handgun, the same gun that you’d used to practice your aim in the fields. There was not a moment to squander, nor a moment to think. Your whole body screamed as you drew the weapon from its pouch, fingers slippery with blood as you fought to turn the safety off.

Your entire arm shook like a brittle leaf in mid-autumn, yet you still held the gun forth, your head banging, your vision blurred, bile pushing and stinging against your throat. Junhui had Mingyu pinned to the grit, his boot heavy on Mingyu’s wrist. Raised in the air was the knife, stained with red globs of your blood. It was just like the party, except it wasn’t a tiny glass shard sealed between Junhui’s fingers. It was a literal hacking device. There was nothing you could do to stop your arm from shaking. You had no more ammunition apart from the bullet left in the gun.

What if I miss, what if I miss Junhui and hit Mingyu? What if I hit Junhui but it isn’t enough to stop him? I don’t think I can do this. I can’t I can’t I can’t—

“So,” Junhui barked, his vocal chords strained and hoarse, “where’s your little guardian angel now, huh? If it weren’t for your girlfriend fucking getting in the way two years ago, you would have had it, Mingyu. But now there’s no one to save you. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment. Finally, I’m entitled to purge how I’ve always wanted.”

The tears finally erupted from their ducts, streaming down your dusted cheeks and dripping at your chin. You felt like a child, a blubbering infant.

But it wasn’t worth it to lose Mingyu.

You weren’t entirely sure what happened when you sucked back the distracting binds of your self-doubt and clamped the trigger down. It didn’t register that the bullet had struck Junhui’s head until his body collapsed off of Mingyu’s lap, lying lax on the pebbles like a sack of flour. It didn’t register that you had saved Mingyu’s life until the first few cold splashes of rain thumped against your forehead, dampened your lashes, and trickled along your scuffed flesh. The gun dropped from your fingers and the whole world went black.

The next time you awoke, you were faced with a pair of glimmering, penny eyes that rapidly blinked, tiny crinkles mapping along wet, amber skin. An instant pain jolted into your gut when you attempted to fidget, and a whine nearly tore itself from between your cracked lips.

“Don’t try to move,” you heard a rough voice, “stay still as best you can.”

“Mingyu?” You croaked, reaching upward to stroke his cheek. 

His fingers coiled gently around your wrist, bringing the scars that were carved like ancient hieroglyphics to his lips. The second he pressed kisses to the old wounds, you smiled.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you awake,” he rasped, his eyes soft, gleeful, “you fucking saved me, y’know? It’s because of you I’m still here, still breathing. All because of you.”

Your face scrunched in confusion.

“Wait… So, I’m not… dreaming?” 

Despite Mingyu’s earlier advisement to stay still, you forced your body upward, though you faced immediate repercussions as a jarring bolt struck you in the stomach. Mingyu attempted to make you relax once more, but you refused to listen to his cooing. Distant thunder rolled in the distance, and you could see a pale glow beaming behind the flossy clouds that shielded the sky. Seven o’clock was probably on the brink of arrival. You were still in the alleyway. Casting a glance toward your new wounds, you noticed that Mingyu had wrapped his jacket tightly around your waist.

“Now would be a good time for lots of gauze, right?” You smiled.

Mingyu settled his palm delicately at the back of your neck and pushed your lips together, a smile slowly dancing along his mouth as he felt your fingers thread through his locks. Just like Mingyu had predicted, a misty rainfall was spraying from the early morning sky, infinitesimal droplets of glass sitting upon his skin as though he were a springtime rose. You kissed his lips again, and again, and again, until the pain in your stomach became too much of a distraction and your head was falling to the crook of his neck. Stealing a glance around the alleyway, you couldn’t help but notice that Junhui and Yeeun’s bodies had been laid beside each other.

You thought about what Wonwoo had said.

Maybe where you’re going is different than where I’m about to go. One of life’s many mysteries, right?

Well, at least Junhui and Yeeun would share an eternal fate in the one place they truly belonged, and it wasn’t exactly a mystery where that place was either.

“Mingyu,” you reached for his shirt and gave it a small tug.

He peered down at you through the fanned arch of his lashes.

“Are you still in a lot of pain, baby? I wish I could take it all away from you. I’m sure the medical services will be here soon, I promi—“

“I love you.”

Mingyu stuttered over the humid air. “O-Oh – I, um, I – I love you too… But, I think you already knew that.”

A molten blush crawled up from the column of his neck and flushed throughout his face akin to a raspberry burn. Though it ached to giggle, you couldn’t evade in doing so, your eyes turned to crescent moons as more golden splashes of dawn light ebbed through the clouds. Somewhere in the distance, you no longer heard gunshots, incoherent slurs, riots and the skid of tires creating friction against pavement. You heard the whirr of emergency sirens and helicopter wings, medical services beginning to flood throughout the city like a creek. It was over. Mingyu was still tangible, warm, smiling whilst he pressed kisses against your forehead.

You don’t know how, but you survived the chaos, you survived Wonwoo and his ludic friend, Jihoon. You survived Yeeun and you survived Junhui.

You survived the Purge together.

✎ a/n: ugh. this is just one of those fics where you become v attached to the characters. i was able to write this quicker than expected (MINUS THE STUPID TWIST THAT STUMPED ME) bc i was truly invested in the plot, and i rly adored every moment of it. actually, this fic was supposed to be posted ages ago, i think last year? but last year was terrible in terms of my health and wellbeing, so i kinda forgot this fic existed as i went on my hiatus. anywho, in my opinion, the first purge film was the best.

i haven’t watched any of the newer purge movies tho, so they could be good! since im a horror/thriller fan, i liked the aspect of vulnerability the purge brought and how it forced ppl to invest in their capacity for violence, especially when the ppl they loved were involved. obviously - only for the fic lmao. bruh, during a real purge i am going to lock myself in the crawl space with a blanket and some cheerios. ALSO!!!! A HAPPY ENDING!!!!!! be proud of me!!!! this was an adventure!!! i hope you can enjoy the story as much as i!! hearing ur thots is appreciated as always!

[wings-of-a-storm]

So there’s a scene in ‘Love, Victor’ that I can’t seem to stop thinking about. It just fascinates me to a ridiculous level (probably more than it warrants, to be honest). It’s when Benji sings ‘Call Me Maybe’ to Victor at Battle of the Bands.

Yes, this moment! I have yielded to its power.

Like where the hell do I even begin to start unpacking the existence of this kind of moment so early on in the show?

To start with, I used to be haunted by the question: Was Benji actually singing to Victor with that intense eye-contact for the whole song or was the entire thing just “Victor Vision” and symbolic of what Victor wishes was happening?

And at first, my answer was: There’s just no wayyyy Benji could have actually done that! For the simple reason of HOW THE HELL WOULD HE HAVE BEEN ABLE TO JUSTIFY THAT TO HIMSELF? Singing a love song inspired by another guy, to that guy’s face, while the boyfriend he is super committed to is literally standing beside him, dropping phat beats on his bass to help the song come to life?

And yet…over the course of the performance, Benji starts to look almost angry/bitter/sad as he’s singing.

And as soon as the performance wraps up, Benji’s eyes are still locked right onto Victor’s as he steps off the stage. Like there is no searching, he knows exactly were Victor is and heads straight to him. And even more telling, once his Singer Persona drops off, he is nervously fiddling with his hands as he walks to Victor, like he’s waiting for Victor’s verdict of the performance. Kind of like: “Did you like it? Because I know how much you love that song and I sang it for you.”

I mean�� Excuse me, sir? Consider me convinced that Benji really was singing it while staring at Victor the whole time, and Victor Vision just embellished parts. And you know what, that suddenly turns a fairly tropey scene into something so much more psychologically stimulating. Welcome to the holy trifecta of burning questions:

- Why did Benji make a cover in the first place? - Why did he sing it staring at Victor the whole time? - How did he justify it to himself?

The beauty of Benji's enigma is that the answers to those questions can be anything you want them to be. So many reasons fit, and so many overlap. It’s really rather fun to try and figure it all out, especially when there aren’t really any wrong answers.

So I guess here are mine:

WHY DID BENJI MAKE A COVER IN THE FIRST PLACE?

Fact: After sharing a fun Moment with Victor (dancing together like no one but Victor’s mother was watching, hah), Benji went home inspired to turn that song into a cover of his own. Why? Looking at it logically, their time together must have meant a lot to Benji, more than anyone could have realised. It affected him to the point where he had to preserve that moment, live in it for a bit longer, and also unpack it in his own mind in a way he’s most familiar and comfortable with: a creative outlet.

I love the idea of Benji listening to ‘Call Me Maybe’ over and over again when he got back home. At first just to relive the high he got from sharing such an uninhibited Moment with Victor (a rare occurrence after spending so much of his time walking around egg shells with Derek?). But then, after the nth play, getting the inspiration to make his own slower version of the track to better explore his feelings about that night and the way Victor makes him feel. Then finally re-listening to the song over and over again but this time to get the right chords and the right splicing/arrangement of lyrics that could convey his feelings but not completely cross the line into full on romance…

But Benji making that cover could have been inspired by so many tangled up reasons, like:

- He realised the lyrics were mirroring his own thoughts and experience, so singing it out loud was helping him process the harmless crush he seemed to be developing

- He wanted to preserve the memory of their dancing Moment because it gives him a dose of happy feels to relive it

- He may have partly intended to make the new version as a sort of gift to Victor that he’d one day play for him (maybe even at Battle of the Bands if Victor changed his mind and showed up). A gift that would further tie them together and cement their friendship, be a way to show Victor how much their friendship already means to him, and give back a little to Victor for trusting Benji with personal/embarrassing information about his guilty pleasures. Like a pre-Drawing gift, with similar energy

And let’s be real, also to try to impress Victor so that Benji can feel a little cool and desirable since it seems he doesn’t often get to feel that way around Derek. Like seriously, who can forget the lingering looks of anticipation Benji gave Victor when he first told him he was a Lead Singer in a Band. He wanted to impress Victor so badly. And who wouldn’t crave Victor’s sweet brand of attention?

Okay, so now Benji has a cover. But…

WHY DID BENJI SING IT STARING AT VICTOR THE WHOLE TIME?

Well firstly, how passionate must Benji have been behind the scenes if he was able to arrange a cover in less than 24 hours before the contest and prioritise it in band practice so that everyone was on board with his musical whim? (And how did he convince Derek to play such an unpretentious song?)

But I imagine the Intense Staring was probably a mixture of:

- Benji had probably spent a lot of the night hoping that Victor would miraculously show up after all (that mood of secretly looking through the crowd every so often throughout the night just in case…). And then when Victor actually did show up, Benji made the band play CMM even though they were still workshopping it, and got so caught up in his excitement and determination, he zeroed in on Victor hard and forgot to reign it in

- Because Benji feels something for Victor (even if he can’t name what exactly that is), and performance is a safe way to express the things he’s not meant to be feeling. It’s a safe space because when you’re performing something, you have the creative freedom to be someone else, to become another version of yourself, a persona, with the license to use whatever emotions you have in your arsenal to tell a story. Benji could express his yearning and fascination (etc) for Victor with the distance of a parallel universe or alternate reality. Stage Benji is allowed to stare

- Because Mia was there with Victor and Benji felt compelled and determined to win Victor’s attention back. You know, some good old fashioned jealousy born of insecurity -- that feeling of being a little insecure and protective of a new friendship, of wanting that person to just see you as special, of feeling like you have something to prove or you’ll end up forgotten in the background. (And maybe he was also a little sick of straight(?) girls having it so easy with the cute guys…)

- Because Benji subconsciously wanted to telegraph to Victor that he is interested in him (and is bitter that it’s not that simple) and wanted to see if Victor bites back. For science

- Or maybe because Benji saw a perfect chance to perform the song as a cute gift to Victor since he actually showed up, but then his intentions quickly unravelled into the prior points, haha

And that leads me to…

HOW DID HE JUSTIFY THE INTENSE* STARING TO HIMSELF?

(*Because even if the song was meant to be something innocent like a homage to an in-joke with Victor or a harmless means to process his feelings on this new and exciting friendship with an attractive boy, the intensity with which he sang it felt like something else entirely. It transcended friendship into a very ambiguous zone. And there was so much yearning in it. Particularly by the end...)

I think Benji probably justified his behaviour by thinking:

- It’s okay for Lead Singer Benji to stare at his muse while performing a story. (It’s just a persona, there’s no need for guilt!)

- It’s normal to be excited by a new friendship and it’s okay to want to sing a giddy song about that experience. And at worst, it’s just a harmless crush that will eventually fade once the novelty wears off. It’s not like he has any intention to do anything further with it since he is committed to Derek. It’s just fun to feel the tingles of a teeny crush…….

Alright, that’s it. I’m out. I’m done. I’ve got nothing left. Thanks for the ride, Benji, you mysterious, complicated, hopeless romantic.

[cloudsrust]

Death comes in all colors

And here I come one year late with a few of my deaths’ headcanons for the lm3 ghosts-... in short story form because of course I gotta go the extra step,, TW: death mention and description (duh), bones breaking / asphyxiation , choking, firearm’s wounds, freezing, aneurysm. Steward - “A back-breaking job.” His last task for the day was to deliver the luggage that had gotten shipped to the hotel to the rightful rooms, ready to be found by the guests arriving in the morning. It was late at night and the overfilled bell cart, tucked away in the establishment’s warehouse, had gotten stuck between a wall and few boxes. As he was pulling the unstable mess from the side, trying to free it, the cart inclined towards him. The worn out belts barely restraining the luggage to begin with. A sickening “snap” breaking the night's silence, as the buckle of one of the worn out belts freeed itself from its prong, mercilessly hitting him straight across the face, hands instinctively going to cover his newly acquired wound as everything around him fell apart. The heavy suitcases and boxes completely crushed him, splitting his spine and breaking his ribs. A shard of the latter penetrating one of his lungs, making it burst. Unable to call for help, he slowly died by asphyxiation, the weight of the luggage “mercifully” taking his last breath away before the internal blood loss could. He is keen to both anger and panic attacks because of how he was treated when alive, both of those feeling still stirring in his heart, unable to find rest. Chambrea - “Feeling your heart in your throat.” The butler of the mansion where Chambrea served as a maid fell in love with her. Many letters and flowers were found in her small room in the following mornings, sweet smiles and compliments filling her days. Even though that was the closest thing she could get to one of the romances in her adored love novels and as much as she desired an happily ever-after, now she needed that job more than a stereotypical love story. She kept refusing him over and over, apologetic smiles following offers to pay him back the money the flowers must've costed. The servant, however, just couldn't stand the thought of rejection. Just as a rope being pulled over and over, he snapped. The night the inhabitants of the manor were out for a private party, he killed her in retaliation, strangling her to death. The thought of “if I can't have her, no one will” only made sense until the time to dispose the body came, clarity coming back to him as he dragged her body across the dark street. He hadn't much time to regret his actions, as Chambrea took her vengeance scaring him off the same bridge he was trying to use to dispose of her corpse. Neither of the bodies were ever found. She still loves to read romantic and tragic novels but she doesn’t feel ready for an actual relationship anytime soon. Her heart stuck in her throat every time she talks with a man, remembering her last moments alive. Steward is trying to slowly help her move on, is the least he can do for a friend colleague. Kruller - “A shot in the dark.” He was a night guard in training at the Grand Mall of the city. It was supposed his first night alone in his side of the mall, a more experienced co-worker taking care of the other half. It seemed a calm night like usual, more tiring the stressful. It would've been so if a thief hadn't managed to avoid security during closing time, hiding in the vents. After an hour or so of undisturbed shoplifting, Kruller finally encountered the criminal during the patrol of his side. Taser gun ready to fire in his shivering hands, still inexperienced in field action, the cop still found the courage to stutter a “Freeze!”. That word sealing his fate. A round of bullets perforating his stomach and chest as the mysterious man turned around firing by instinct, shocked by the sudden threat coming from behind him. The thief fled the scene, leaving the mall cop bleeding to death. The other night guard, alerted by the shoots rushed to his position, calling the ambulance at the sight of the blood pooling and running along the floor tiles. But help didn't come in time, Kruller last words desperately trying to describe the criminal, in hope of justice. He has a serious fear of both realistic looking and real firearms and he still has trouble speaking up from time to time, the remembrance of his error still lingering in his mind. Chef Soulfflé - “Best served cold.” Left behind by his trusted staff to make the inventory of the remaining and the needed supplies for the night, Soulfflé was checking the state of the meat in the freeze chamber. A few misplaced cleaning supplies tragically slipped from their grip on the tiled wall, still humid from the cooking vapor, falling on the chamber’s door, slowly closing it. The spine chilling click of the automatic lock making the chef drop the pack of meat he was inspecting. A few minutes passing with him trying to desperately call for help, the leftover hours of his life passed making peace with himself, writing down his will on the ingredients checklist he had with him. His staff only found his body the next morning, various aliments scattered on the floor, the cardboard where they were stored laying on the frozen corpse as a last hope to produce enough warmt to survive the night. He overcooks the meat by mistake: unable to feel warmth, no matter the temperature, for him everything will always be and remain cold. Amadeus Wolfgeist - “A heartbreaking performance.” Entire days and sleepless nights dedicated to that night, the evening of his concert- just for an aneurysm to take his life before he could complete that cursed melody. Slowly feeling his body crumbling from the inside, responding to his will no more. Hands grasping at the piano keys like a stray dog does with a found bone, his hunger for glory, for redemption, pushing him to keep on going. His fingers suddenly stiff, the last note mocking him with its silence as his vision completely faded to black. Falling to the harsh floor of his reality as red curtains covered the stage, marking his demise. His mind is still plagued by that composition, cursed to always rehears it but to never complete it, his hand still phasing through that last note. It is always better to keep an ear out for such music, just to know when is better to not interact with him at all. ...and that’s all- y’all can surely  see how in the last two stories I was just rushing through eh,,  I do want to share the titles and “plots” that where planned for the other ghosts! (Yes, giving titles is usually my fave part ahah)

MacFrights - “A stab to your pride.” Killed by a spear during a jousting tournament. His saddle slipped at the worst moment, letting his opponent’s weapon into the eye hole of his helmet. (My MacFrights’ design as a deep scar on his right eye, a bit OOC I know-) Dr. Potter - “Quiet as a falling leaf.” Died of old age. Came back to take care of the garden of his beloved wife, passed away years before him and now resting in her garden’s greenhouse, now her mausoleum. She already passed on, but Potter can’t let go of the only thing that remains of her, keeping him tied to the mortal world. (I kinda wish to come back to this one, maybe write a bit about it- but it’s a quite slim chance) Morty - “Letting the credits roll." (TW: suicide mention) Commited suicide via sleeping pills. He was the best conductor of his times, always aiming for perfection in every shot. It was when he reached the top that he understood that he could never reach that perfect dream of his, and that all that he was left with were just golden trophies and broken relationships. He let his movie end in hope of a sequel. (Another OOC, I like the idea of him being the complete opposite of what he was in real life, some sort of desire for redeeming himself and truly enjoy his love for movies. I want to write about this one, I really want to expand on this- so I might have a stand alone fan-fic for this.) Ug - “Flesh and bone.” Died of starvation. Not much to say about him- he lived in tough times with scarce food. Clem - “Washing away your memories.” While he worked in the sewers, he drowned after some falling pipes hit his head, beating him unconscious. He suffers from memory loss, not remembering anything from his mortal life- except a deep love for ducks. (Headcanon of mine is that he worked at a farm with his mother and many siblings- he accept a job into the sewer system to help his family in a time of struggle of the farm.) Serpci - “Sacrifices must be made." Offered herself to be sacrificed to the gods, to help his reign during dark times. Lindsay, Nikky, Ginny - “Warming up the audience.” (TW: childrean’s death) One of their fire tricks malfuctioned, ending into an fire enveloping the room they were performing in. They died of suffocation, due to the thick smoke, before the flames could reach them. Lindsay, the older sister, protected her two siblings until the end. Capitain Hook - “Putting salt on a wound.” Eaten by the shark he was hunting for half his life. Fate played the cruel joke to turn him into his most hated enemy once he became a ghost. Johnny Deepend - “Hitting on you.” Hit his head on the side of the pool as he was attempting a complex dive, trying to hit on his crush. It wasn’t his most succesfull move- Phantasmagloria - “Shock! at the disco.” (Yes I’m P!ATD trash thank you for noticing lmao) She was electrocuted by her malfunctioning equipment.

[violethowler]

Death and Separation: Emerging Trends in Pop Culture Franchises

Warning: The following essay contains ending and character death  spoilers for Voltron: Legendary Defender,  How To Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World, Game of Thrones, and everything released under the Disney umbrella since January 2017. That includes Marvel, Star Wars, and vanilla Disney movies, both animated and live action. 

I’ve noticed a pattern in the last couple of years of media consumption. 

Since 2017, there has been a string of major releases by major companies or networks that featured story decisions that proved controversial with audiences. Now, such things on their own aren’t really a big deal because for the most part there’s always going to be some fans who aren’t satisfied with how a story turned out, regardless of their reasons. 

But what I’m noticing is that there is a pattern to which elements fans are criticizing and why. 

As I became aware of this trend I started looking back at media released in the last few years and noticing that many of these stories were featuring the same plot elements, whether they worked for the story or not: 

One common point I noticed is how many of these franchises have taken morally complicated characters that were popular with audiences, and permanently killed them off in ways which a lot of people have found narratively unsatisfying: 

In Star Wars: Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker, Ben Solo manages to achieve his redemption and turn back to the light after all prior supplementary material showed how Snoke preyed on his feelings of abandonment to groom him into joining the dark side. After being redeemed, his contribution to the story’s climax is being thrown into a pit, where he stays until after Palpatineis defeated, and upon climbing out finds the girl he loves dead. Ben then uses the force to heal Rey and restore her to life, only to immediately kick the bucket himself, after which point the narrative ceases to acknowledge him in any way. 

Loki and his brother Thor reconcile at the end of 2017’s Thor: Ragnarok, only for the film’s post credits scene to herald their encounter with Loki’s former “employer” Thanos. The next time audiences see Loki in the opening minutes of Avengers: Infinity War, he’s strangled to death on-screen by Thanos following a failed assassination attempt before the film’s title card has even appeared. Despite theories that he had faked his death and would return in Avengers: Endgame, the only versions of Loki to appear in the finale of the Infinity Saga are past versions from alternate timelines, with only the characters dusted during Infinity War being brought back to life. 

Gamora escapes from her abusive father figure Thanos in the first Guardians of the Galaxy movie and spends subsequent films building a life for herself outside of Thanos’ toxic influence, with the sequel focusing on her repairing her relationship with her sister Nebula. After being captured by Thanos and forced to bring him to the Soul Stone, Thanos flings her off a cliff to her death when he learns that obtaining the Soul Stone will require him to sacrifice someone he loves, and awakens in a pool of water with the stone in his hand. Despite theories she would be brought back to life in Avengers: Endgame, but like Loki, the only versions of Gamora to appear were from alternate timelines that lacked the dead version’s character development.

Black Widow’s defining character trait across the Infinity Saga has been her desire to eliminate “the red in her ledger” to atone for the things she did when the Red Room had raised her to be an assassin. In Avengers: Endgame, Black Widow sacrifices herself to obtain the Soul Stone in the past to give her close friend Clint Barton a second chance to come back from the brutal path of vengeance the death of his family had set him on, in the same way that he had given her a second chance to build a better life for herself when they first met. 

In Voltron: Legendary Defender’s third season, Prince Lotor is introduced as a morally ambiguous figure with unclear motives. When forced on the run by his tyrannical father, he forms an alliance with the Paladins of Voltron and eventually develops a romance with Princess Allura. In the sixth season, Lotor is accused of mass murder of the survivors of Allura’s destroyed planet and their alliance falls apart. Lotor insists that his intentions for peace are genuine, but his efforts to explain himself fall on deaf ears, and after a battle, is left for dead in the Quintessence Field. The second episode of the final seasons fills in the details of his abusive childhood while showing that despite what he’d suffered, he was genuine in his desire for peace. Seasons 6 through 8 are sprinkled with hints that Lotor was innocent of the crimes he was accused of, but despite Season 8 Episode 6 Genesis depicting him being still alive after four years in the Quintessence Field, the audience is treated to an image of his melted corpse four episodes later, while his abusive mother searches alternate realities for a better version of him.

The first seven seasons of Game of Thrones depict Daenerys Targaryen as someone from an abusive family who was nevertheless determined to rise above her turbulent upbringing and make the world a better place. Over the course of the eighth and final season, her new allies disrespect her, her lover repeatedly betrays her trust, and her advisers not only question her mental stability but immediately attempt to undermine her campaign as soon as a male heir to the throne from her bloodline is presented to them. When her trusted confidant is murdered in the penultimate episode, she snaps and burns large swaths of the capitol to the ground with dragon fire. In the series finale, her remaining advisers convince her lover to kill her for the good of the realm, and her destructive rage is presented as who she always was.  

In the narrative of these characters’ stories, some of these fit with the themes of that character’s story arc. Black Widow sacrificing herself makes sense because of the symmetry with what we know of her backstory. Clint Barton gave her a second chance and guided her back from the dark path she was on when they first met, and in Avengers: Endgame, she returns the favor. Her death, while upsetting to many fans for different reasons, fits within the context of her personal narrative arc from across the last decade of Marvel movies. 

While Daenerys turning into a Mad Queen like her father would still be disappointing to fans hoping to see her disprove the “madness is in the blood” ideas about her family, it wouldn’t have come entirely out of nowhere. The hints that she had the potential to go down that path were there, even if many hoped it would only remain potential. One of the biggest issues is how Season 8 portrayed her descent into madness. Her cruelty towards King’s Landing is treated not as the rage of someone who has been pushed too far, but that this is who she always was. 

Meanwhile Ben Solo’s death came suddenly and abruptly after repeated narrative fakeouts that he came back from. The previous films, novels, and comics had built him up as a victim of abuse and set up audiences to anticipate him breaking free of the Dark Side and finding a happy ending, likely while working to atone for his actions as Kylo Ren. But despite his actor having been promised that Ben Solo’s story would not end the same way that Darth Vader’s did, that was exactly what happened: with the redeemed villain dying to save a person they loved. 

The context may differ, but there is a visible pattern of major genre franchises in the last year taking this type of complicated character and either killing them off when they’re finally in a good place mentally and emotionally, or in the case of Lotor and Daenerys, striping away their happiness to force them into the role of a one-dimensional tyrant and then killing them off. Lotor’s case is even more egregious because there were unanswered questions and inconsistencies surrounding his alleged crimes that after his death were never explained.  

While I doubt the creators of any of these titles set out to intentionally hurt people who identified with these characters, their narrative choices still send very damaging messages. 

These character’s backstories involve them either intentionally or unintentionally set up to fail by the people around them. Where most characters begin with a blank slate, theirs was already written in with expectations, pressure, violence, condemnation, control, manipulation, and/or outright subjugation. Fans young and old find them relatable because of similar rough pasts or trauma, often because or in spite of their grey moral compasses. This type of character resonates with audiences because they represent what it means to be human -  to struggle, to make mistakes, and to have the ability to atone for them in the end. 

Except in recent stories they don’t ever get that chance. Seeing Ben Solo and Lotor and Daenerys and Loki denied a chance at a happy ending tells people who identify with them that they will never find happiness. That their struggle toward the light is doomed to fail and will only end in death. 

And that isn’t the only divisive trend that’s been observed in recent years. Since 2018, there have been sequels and series finales where the characters whose bond was the core of the story go their separate ways either after the conflict has been resolved or as the means to resolve the conflict: 

In the series finale of Star Wars: Rebels, audience viewpoint character Ezra Bridger forces Grand Admiral Thrawn’s Star Destroyer fleet into hyperspace to protect the capital city of his planet Lothal from orbital bombardment. This separates him from his Found Family, and due to their commitments to the rebellion it isn’t until several years later that they set out to find him and bring him home. 

During the course of Ralph Breaks the Internet: Wreck-it Ralph 2, Vanellope von Schweetz becomes enamored with the virtual world of the internet, having grown tired of the routine of her life in the arcade in the five years since the original movie. Ralph’s desire for life to stay the same and his insecurities over losing his best friend drive the plot of the movie, and the conflict is resolved when Ralph learns to let go of his insecurities and respect Vanellope’s wishes. Ralph returns to the arcade while Vanellope remains on the internet, though they stay in touch via video chat.

The series finale of Voltron: Legendary Defender depicts the surviving paladins going their separate ways after the war ends, only meeting up once a year for a memorial dinner to honor Allura’s sacrifice. Lance is depicted with the markings of Allura’s people branded on his face, grieving her as he spends his days working on his family’s farm. Keith returns to the stars to restructure the Blade of Marmora into a peacetime organization. Hunk becomes a galactic chef, while Pidge returns to Earth to build robots at the Garrison. A year after the series, Shiro retires from the job he loves and marries one of the men on the bridge crew for the Atlas. 

In order to protect the dragons of Berk from Grimmel the dragon hunter, Hiccup must send Toothless away so that the Night Fury can lead the Berkian dragons to the safety of the Hidden World. Year later Hiccan and Astrid take their children to the entrance of the Hidden World where they reunite with their dragon friends and their children. 

In order to defeat Thanos and his army, Iron Man uses the Infinity Stones to snap Thanos’ legions out of existence at the cost of his own life. Following Tony’s funeral, Captain America returns the Stones to their original timeline before settling down in an alternate timeline to live a peaceful life with Peggy Carter in the 1940s. After reaching old age, Steve returns to his original timeline and passes the mantle of Captain America on to Sam Wilson along with the repaired shield. Thor abdicates the throne of New Asgard to Valkyrie before setting off to the stars with the Guardians of the Galaxy. Hawkeye returns to the quiet farm life with his wife and children, and the remaining heroes all go their separate ways. 

After the death of Daenerys in the series finale of Game of Thrones, the Westerosi nobility decided to form an elected monarchy, choosing Bran Stark as the next king of the Seven Kingdoms. Sansa returns to Winterfell, where she becomes Queen of the North, while Jon Snow is “exiled” beyond the wall, and Arya sets sail to explore lands west of Westeros. 

In Toy Story 4, Woody is feeling pushed to the side as Bonny plays with him less than she does the other toys. After getting lost on a road trip, Woody is reunited with his lost love, Bo Peep, who has been living alone scavenging from humans rather than being played with by a single child. After rescuing Bonnie’s new toy Forky, Woody and Bo race to get everyone back to the RV before Bonny’s family leaves. Before boarding the RV, Woody ultimately decides to stay with Bo, and he parts ways with the rest of Andy’s toys as the film ends. 

After the previous film was about Maleficent becoming a surrogate mother figure to Aurora, the sequel, Maleficent: Mistress of Evil, is about Maleficent learning to let her daughter grow up and leave the nest. After Queen Ingrid’s crusade against the fairies is thwarted, Maleficent gives her blessing for Aurora’s marriage to Phillip and lets her adopted daughter go. Maleficent returns to the Moors with the promise that she will return when Aurora and Phillip have a child of their own. 

In the course of uncovering and making amends for their bigoted grandfather’s actions against the Northuldra people, Elsa and Anna learn that the rumored fifth spirit that bridges the mortal and the supernatural is actually them and their bond. After breaking the curse on the Enchanted Forest, Elsa abdicated her throne and remains in the forest to continue exploring the full extent of her powers while Anna takes the throne. Thanks to the magic of the other elemental spirits, the sisters remain in constant contact, with Elsa returning to Arendelle for regular visits. 

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker establishes that Ben Solo and Rey are a dyad in the Force - literal soulmates. At the end of the movie, Rey sacrifices her life to destroy Palpatine, and after climbing up from the pit he was tossed into, Ben uses the Force to heal Rey’s wounds and bring her back to life, at which point he immediately dies. After a victory celebration with the Resistance, Rey travels to Tatooine and is last seen burying Luke and Leia’s lightsabers in the sands outside the farm where Luke grew up. 

As with the trend of killing off morally complicated characters, some of these examples work within the context of the film. 

Motherhood was an important element of Maleficent’s arc across the two live action films, and learning to let her daughter leave the nest is a classic lesson in a parental figure’s character arc. 

Hiccup and Toothless parting ways fits with the How To Train Your Dragon series’ focus on protecting the dragons and the animal conservation message that comes with that. 

Ezra being separated from his found family at the end of Rebels was a way to maintain Luke Skywalker’s status as the only Jedi working for the rebellion in the original movies without permanently killing Ezra off, and the show’s writers left the door open for a potential sequel focused on Sabine following his trail to bring him home. 

Other examples, however, do not align with the themes of their respective franchises. 

Game of Thrones spent several seasons focusing on the surviving Stark children as they find their way back to each other. Sending them all in different directions at the end feels disappointing and pointless after they had finally been reunited in the previous season. 

The Paladins of Voltron finding their own careers after the war that take them to different parts of the galaxy but still making the effort to consistently stay in contact makes sense in theory, but with the death of Allura it comes across as if her passing broke the team apart. 

While the original Avengers going their separate ways to let a new generation of heroes step into the limelight seems like an organic conclusion to the Infinity Saga, Captain America’s ending in particular feels like a regression. His character arc across his previous solo films has been about moving forward, and Endgame concludes with him literally going backward. 

It’s been common for fan complaints over these story elements to be directed mainly at the people directly responsible for making each project - the showrunners, the movie directors, the script writers…… But I couldn’t help but notice just how many of these examples for both trends fell under the Disney umbrella.

And then I remembered that Infinity War, Endgame, and The Rise of Skywalker all had reshoots done at some point in the production process. 

It really makes me wonder how much of these disliked story decisions were really the individual directors’ and showrunners’ decisions and how much were mandated by someone higher up the ladder. And I can’t help but notice the demographics of the people in charge of these companies and the people affected by them. 

The demographics of fans that enjoy morally complicated characters and want them to have a happy ending, that enjoy stories where the the characters who bonded over the course of the story stay together after their mutual goal is achieved, are from what I’ve observed predominantly made up of women, LGBTQ+ people, disabled people, nonwhite people, and people with mental illnesses. 

And most of the people in charge of these story decisions are cis, straight, neurotypipcal, able-bodied white men. The CEO of Disney... The showrunners of Game of Thrones….. Voltron’s a little more complicated because while Dreamworks made the show they didn’t own the franchise, but the Voltron IP owner is a straight white male.  

These stories are controlled by straight white men, and the audiences that have the biggest negative reactions to these story decisions are women, LGBTQ+ people, and POC. 

Companies may talk about having more diversity on camera and behind the camera, but the people at the top of the corporate hierarchy - the ones with the money and therefore the ultimate control over what gets released to the public - are for the most part the same demographic as they've always been.

And all of these show finales and movies have been released within the last four years, as fandom spaces and American public discourse in general have become increasingly polarized into a black and white mentality with no room for nuance. Where someone can only be either a perfect ally or an offensive oppressor. This trend in killing off morally complicated characters in ways that don’t always work for their character arc has also coincided with the rise of fandom’s pearl clutching over moral purity and whether a villain or anti villain “deserves” a redemption arc. 

Your first instinct will probably be to dismiss what I’m suggesting, insisting that these are just shows and movies and that they don’t matter. That it’s Not That DeepTM. But more often than not the media we consume is a reflection of the world around us. And we are seeing a pattern that as fandom becomes increasingly obsessed with purity and enforces a “one strike and you’re a monster” mentality, the major franchises of pop culture are producing stories where people who aren’t clear-cut Pure Good Heroes or Pure Evil Villains die. 

Also, dismissing people’s thoughts about the social messages of a movie or show, insisting that we’re wrong for saying that something doesn’t fit with the story so far, is part of the problem. Having critics and other fans praising the stories we feel hurt by and dismissing our criticisms as, for example, whiny shippers mad that our favorite pairings didn’t happen, has a very stifling, damaging effect. It tells us over and over again that this is the way that stories are supposed to be, and that there is something weird, broken, wrong with us for not being satisfied with stories that break up the Found Family or kill off your morally messed up fave regardless of whether it actually makes sense for the story. 

It leaves us isolated and alienated from wider fandom discussions because we’re told it again and again until we internalize it that we’re in the wrong. That people just don’t want to make the kinds of stories we want to see. That we’re paranoid for suspecting that there is a pattern when we see this happen over and over. But it’s clear from the way that some creators have acted - going from excitedly promoting their work to complete silence after the initial disappointment over the finale - that there are creators who want to tell those kinds of stories, but they are being silenced. They are being forced to change the stories they wanted to tell because someone in charge didn’t like that kind of story, and because of their NDAs are forced to either keep silent, or lie and take credit for decisions that weren’t theirs. 

It’s easy to dismiss these story decisions as a coincidence. To believe that all of these creators made similar decisions on their own. That they just fucked up a beautiful story on their own with no intervention from someone higher up the corporate ladder. It’s a comforting option. It makes us feel like our criticisms have an impact. Because the alternative? That creators can and have been forced to change their stories because the person at the top doesn’t think that it’ll sell well if it doesn’t cater to the demographic they consider most important? That’s terrifying. 

[chimswae]

BTS Caretaker CH21

Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?

- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC)

- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au

- Word Count: 6, 707

- Author Note: I missed the date of posting new chapter again, okay so caught up with work :< aish, but it is okay i am updating now!

Previous | Next

Chapter 21

It was a long silence between them, neither the boys nor Seul dared to utter anything. To begin with, what was they supposed to say at first place. The Jungkook and Seul relationship or Jimin’s sudden outburst. As much as they wanted to bring Yoongi’s side of the story into the picture, they thought it was out of context. Yoongi’s issues had nothing to do with them, yet one of the reasons that trigger Jimin’s anger was related to Yoongi after all.

For once Namjoon had never feel burdened with the responsibility as the leader of BTS until today. Firstly, he had to unravel the tense between Jungkook, Jimin and Seul. The atmosphere between the four walls were suffocating him, and he could tell everyone felt the same. He held his breath for a long time before exhaling a deep sigh garnering everyone’s eyes on him “Alright. Let’s get thing straight” glancing at the maknae whom sat across him. Seul felt her heart being torn apart from this impromptu confrontation. To be frank, she was not ready to be questioned this way especially when it came to her and Jungkook status.

“Jung, is there something going on between you and Seul?” Namjoon probed. Gulping away her nervousness, Seul was being surrounded by a group of man who appeared to be very protective over the youngest member of their group. Yoongi looked like he was ready to swing his baseball bat and beat some shit outta Jungkook and Jimin. His eyes never left Seul ever since the scene at her workplace. Not that he cared, yet it was bothersome to be remembered by it. Learning the truth behind Jungkook’s disappearance at night stung his heart even more.

Jungkook is one step ahead him. Yoongi groaned in frustration.

Jungkook stammered “Seul and I…We became friends because I am their frequent customer there. I spent my time there to draw” he pressed his palms together searching for strength to face his members’ wrath.

“You become friends and as far as I am concern friends don’t kiss, that is too affectionate. What is the meaning behind those kiss? ” Jin leaned his back on the seat, tilting his head to take a good look of Seul expression. Now that they had came to this, he feared to hear the truth.

Jungkook and Seul relationship would be the beginning or the end of him.

Chewing her chapped lips, Seul fingers fidgeted unconsciously at the end of her pink sweater. Her rapid breathing was drawing Hoseok attention who appeared to sit just beside her, he leaned over whispering softly “Are you okay Seul? You don’t look good” his voice was as soft as his sunny smile. It managed to calm her down a little.

She nodded, squishing her eyes tight for a moment before opened it again only to be welcomed by Hoseok’s round eyes “I can manage this, thank you Hoseok” she flashed a weak smile. He returned to his seat with a small smile and gave his attention on Jungkook and Namjoon.

“What I know it was not a mistake. Those kisses are real. I…like Seul” Jungkook’s confession earned different reaction from the floor. Some were scoffing away, some were too dumbfounded to even react, and some were stayed frozen in their seat shooting Jungkook a judgemental look. That was not definitely in their dictionary. What changed Jungkook to be this confident and super determined of his own feelings?

Jungkook’s eyes met Seul confused one, making Jimin rolled his eyes in his seat. Salty Park Jimin about to open his mouth to say something, but his fellow 95 liner friend already jumped in “Do you see her as a woman, Jungkook? Someone that you wish to own” upon hearing Taehyung’s last word, Seul blushed madly. The thought of being owned by someone never occurred to her some more, the person is a member from famous idols of the century. Crazy as it sound Seul couldn’t stop her heart from making weird noise inside.

They only needed one nod from Jungkook to confirm everything, so they could make sense out from this situation. Jungkook had never been so open to them when it came to his own feelings. To witness the younger guy being bluntly honest about his inner feeling gave some sense of relief to the hyungs. Over the years Jungkook was known to be very introvert and he did not talk to strangers unless he felt comfortable with them. Jungkook had few friends in the industry like GOT7’s Yugyeom and Seventeen’s Mingyu yet it did not stop him to get out from his comfort zone. Part of them were grateful of his feeling for Seul, it was a good start for Jungkook to be more open to other options in life. However, it also worrisome considering it involved commitment and serious relationship.

Each of the members had a mixed feeling about this Jungkook liking Seul thing. To break it down, Namjoon main concerned was whether this relationship Jungkook plan to have with Seul is healthy. After his failed relationship with Hyemi, he did not want others to experience the pain of losing someone whom he thought important in life only to be left hanging without words. Not to mention as a leader and a brother of Jungkook, he did not want Jungkook to get hurt. Relationship involved commitment, was Jungkook ready to carry the burden on his shoulder?

Kim Seokjin. He was neutral. People couldn’t read through him as he always appears optimistic and positive to everyone. Internally he’s suffering from the confession. He did show his interest on Seul because their friendship started off pretty normal that involved no fight. Nowadays, Seokjin enjoyed Seul’s presence around him apart from his 92-line squad and his game squad, Jin had Seul to listen the worries that he had whenever he couldn’t talk it out with his members or other friends. Seul is a good listener. As he learnt that one of the members revealed his feeling openly to Seul, was this a sign to back off before things got complicated later on?

When it came to Hoseok, this was his second-time meeting Seul so he did not have any issues with her. He knew Seul was a nice girl and worth to be loved by many. She deserved all the love from the world. If there’s one thing that bothered Hoseok would be her genuine intention in befriending them. Not that Hoseok wanted to question her integrity, but the world is a scary place. They could not just bluntly trust people that they barely knew especially Seul. Even though she’s a daughter of Mrs Hwang their original caretaker whom treated them like their own son these past few years, they shouldn’t depend on that one factor only. It was a matter of fact that people could be toxic without they realized, just like Son Hyemi.

Sitting with his mouth sealed tight on the armrest was Taehyung. His expression did not give away any worries or emotions pertaining to this issue, but he still found it a little over the top for his sane mind to comprehend. Without doubt, he was attracted of Seul at first place became the reason why he snapped her picture and kept it on his night stand. That small crush that he had for Seul was still unclear, it needed to be shaped. Considering things had changed now, would it be better for him to eradicate this small crush he had for Seul before it became contagious to his heart? He did not want any heartbreak in the future wasn’t he.

Jimin on the other hand looked distressed in his seat. His protective instinct for Jungkook earlier on was soon replaced by annoyance. Annoyance of his own discomfort to the idea of there was another guy liking Seul and it happened to be Jungkook. The only difference between them, Jungkook had guts to sort his feeling out when he didn’t. That Jimin saw Seul more than just a friend was evident. But he refused to conform to the reality of life. It was a reticent, very private feeling which he had no intention to reveal just yet.

Yoongi was complicating things around him and his true feelings that he had for Seul. Everyone could literally see how possessive he was over Seul, yet he denied that fact at all cost. The fact that he used revenge to steal kisses from Seul, Yoongi was actually trying to confirm his own feeling. At first, he assumed it was a mere admiration towards Seul’s sassiness however it turned into something deeper not long after. He was dragging himself down into the deepest pit of the dark hole in his heart. Wanting to escape, yet he failed. As a result, Yoongi came out pretty hard and aggressive on Seul even though he wasn’t intended to hurt her. It came out neutral because he was not ready to embrace the truth. The truth might hit him a little hard on his face, so Yoongi was afraid to take the risk. With this Jungkook thing, Yoongi realized he must do something about this before too late.

“So, answer him, do you see Seul as a woman or is it a mere admiration?” Jin broke the long silence desperate to hear the answer though he’s not really keen of listening to it.

Nodding with a soft sigh “I see her as a woman and I like her because she is Seul” that was enough to melt Seul’s heart again as blush crept up warming her cheeks. Why was she being weak again? Now since they had settled with Jungkook, seven pair of eyes landed on her. She was in deep shit.

“Seul, do you know Jungkook is Jungkook?” the leader raised his eyebrow in question.

“No, I don’t. He was wearing mask 24/7 how do you expect me to notice that is him?” her voice broke a little due to the intensity that she felt inside her.

Jimin found the chance to butt in with a sarcastic remark “Funny thing is, you are a fan. How can you not know Jungkook even from his eyes?” he glowered.

Seul looked so piss as she glared at Jimin “Funny thing, I am not Jungkook’s fan. Neither of you are my favourite. How do you expect me to remember your eyes when I messed up your faces and names” the corner of Yoongi’s lips were tugged into a smirk. Ji Seul makes a comeback, as expected. He complimented in his head admiring her sassiness.

Pursing his lips sulkily, Jimin shook his head giving up on his argument with Seul already. She was impossible to beat especially when it involved to defending herself. Seul always know what to say.

Namjoon continued “Alright. You have no idea it is Jungkook, so you befriend him. Both of you become friend and Jungkook apparently reveal his feelings for you. How about your feelings? Do you like Jungkook that way?” upon hearing that question, Seul turned pale.

Taehyung scrutinized her expression with so much interest trying to read through her but to no avail. Would it be possible that she did not see Jungkook more than a friend? A spark of hope lightens his heart a little. Taehyung was up for any possibility.

“I repeat, do you like Jungkook more than just a friend?” Namjoon pressed. He was acting like a father-in-law making other cringe in their seat. Yoongi small eyes were watching Seul every little move, causing her to shift uncomfortably under his hard gaze. This did not work at all. She did not have the answers with her. Everything happened too fast.

Seul heaved a heavy sigh “I don’t know. I am not sure. My feelings for Jungkook are still ambiguous, I can’t exactly tell whether it is more than just a friend. It is still too early to decide it, I am sorry Jungkook” she threw an apologetic look at Jungkook.

He felt a heavy tug on his heart, but he managed to pull a soft smile on his face “Don’t be sorry Seul. I told you I don’t want to push you, we can still work on this” Seul bit her lower lips, lowering her gaze shyly. Jungkook would not give up on his feeling for Seul that easily. It took a lot of courage to embrace this new side of him, to give up on it just like that would be a waste.

“Someone got friend zoned” Hoseok joked to light up the mood.

“I AM NOT-“ “SHE ISNT-“ they were surprised to see Jungkook and Seul perfect timing. Seul’s cheeks turned into fifty shades of red realizing she was indirectly admitting to the fact that she was interested in Jungkook as well though she needed time to figure it out.

“You are reconsidering Jungkook’s feelings?” Taehyung’s eyes glimmered in curiosity.

Jungkook rubbed his neck, holding back his bunny smile “Yes I am. I need time. I am not used to this” Seul mumbled timidly. Jimin was hurt by her answers, now it was obvious Seul might end up liking Jungkook for real is he didn’t do anything about it.  What should he do again to fix this mess that he created?

“But, that doesn’t mean you have confirmed your true feelings for Jungkook right?” Yoongi’s hoarse voice baffled everyone. The older guy had chosen to keep his mouth shut all the time, hence to hear something coming from him was intimidating. Because after all, though Yoongi did not say it aloud about his feeling for Seul, all of them knew that guy had a thing for her. Jungkook realized it too. He had been stealing glance at Yoongi during their conversation, and his attention was on Seul most of the time.

Jungkook was not alone in this complicated battle. With Yoongi came into the picture, Jungkook was mentally ready to fight healthily.

“We can say that” not letting Yoongi’s stare penetrated her heart, Seul avoided his gaze at all cost.

Smiling with full of gratification, Yoongi arose from his seat “Then this conversation is over. That is all I need to hear” he gave one final look at Seul sending chill down her spine. She watched his body disappeared behind the door to his room leaving only six members around her.

“I am leaving too” muttering lowly, Jimin left the scene without saying much as Hoseok decided to tail him. He sensed something was wrong with Jimin, so he excused himself to investigate further. Taehyung followed not long after “I will see you later Seul..” he smiled warmly making his way stealthily to his room.

Jin was contemplating whether to be honest about his discomfort, in the end he chose to just shut it and give it a long thought before expressing it out. “Seul just stay over tonight, it is late. We don’t want you to walk in the dark alone. I will prepare the room for you” Jin stood up leaving the scene giving Seul no chance to protest. She grunted softly under her breath refusing the idea of staying over there today. Bad start.

Confused, Namjoon ran his fingers in his lock accompanied by a soft hum “Jungkook can you give us space? I need to talk with Seul alone” he turned to the younger guy that immediately nod with a small sigh.

Seul looked up with a small smile “Thank you Jungkook. Go rest” her sincerity made Jungkook fall head over heels for her again. A simple attention from Seul managed to crush another wall inside him, he craved for it.

“You too, see you in the morning. I hope. Good night Seul” his steps were heavy, even though this issue was settled due to the long talk, it still makes him nervous. After making sure Jungkook was nowhere to be seen around them, Namjoon shifted his attention back on the drained girl in front of him. His heart softened as his eyes landed on Seul’s distressed face.  

“Seul-ah I won’t stop you or Jungkook. It is up to both of you to decide. Remember, if you hurt Jungkook you will have to face me. Do not give him a false hope even though it is okay for both of you to consider the options in front of you. I don’t want to see Jungkook broken-hearted”

“And, I have to warn you before things get out of hand. It is not just Jungkook’s feelings matter in this but others too. I can see another person in the room who actually like you just as much” Seul blinked with an unreadable expression.

“What do you mean by that” she retorted in disbelief. Did Namjoon just imply there were other BTS members liking her other than Jungkook? How was this even real? Seul felt so unreal at the moment. The impossibility only happened in dramas or movies. Since this occurred to her, she had no idea how to react to it.

Namjoon pressed his lips into thin line “You will find out soon. I am not the one who should tell you that. Just, make sure to not hurt anyone or yourself Seul-ah. Love is a scary thing. It is complicated. You can’t stop your feelings from loving someone, so give it a chance. Give the person a chance. Then you decide” he hinted.

“I am sorry Namjoon for causing this mess. I hope you are not being too hard on Jimin, he is right to doubt me. You guys barely knew me, so I understood Jimin. Even though part of me wanted to hit him hard for calling me a bitch. How dare he called me that” she grinded her teeth showing of her resentment over Jimin’s choice of word.

Chuckling softly, Namjoon nodded with an amused face “Don’t worry about Jimin. We fought a lot, then we made up the next day. This was nothing. Forgive Jimin and his foul mouth, he could be a little too vulgar when he got angry”

“He is protecting Jungkook that is normal. Your bonds are too strong even I couldn’t break that. I am glad Jimin decided to cuss at me instead of letting it slip off from his mind. That shows how much he cared for his members” she threw the compliments earnestly. It was true, it offended her, but she tried to see the bigger picture of it.

Namjoon had a proud smile on his face to hear someone admiring their brotherhood. It made him realized their bonds were no joke and he mentally agreed to Seul’s words. The tense in the room was diminishing and Seul finally able to breathe normally. Jin approached the two “The room is ready Seul, you should rest. I have prepared clean sweat and shirt on the bed for you to change. Don’t worry it is new, wear it” he beamed.

“Can i… not stay? This is uncomfortable” she murmured.

“What nonsense is that. No way, it is 4 in the morning. Just stay, we won’t let you go home at this time” Namjoon voice was stern and dominating. No wonder he’s the leader.

Seul eyes quivered uncomfortably, showing off her concern about the idea of a girl staying in an idol house “I don’t want to get caught by your manager, that would be bad. They have no idea about me replacing my mother” she tried to make up excuses to escape this place.

“We will be leaving around 10 for practice so, hyung won’t be here until the schedule. Don’t worry, leave before that” Jin showed no sign of giving up too, cornering the latter in process. “Just stay Seul, you don’t want to wear yourself out at work later. Go get some rest, the room is down the hall, just across Jimin and Hoseok” he gave a light pat on her head.

Seul finally gave in and nodded “Fine, I will stay just because I feel bad for what happened today. Thank you Jin. Good night both of you” she bid them a good night and made her way cautiously to the guest room.

Ji Seul, what will change after today. Seul made a mental note on it and decided to call it a day. She deserved a long rest after the therapy talk with Namjoon.

 --------------

Tossing her body under the duvet, Seul found it was hard to fall asleep. It must be due to the new surroundings, with that she sat up groggily leaving the queen size bed for a moment to get warm drinks for herself. The hallway was quiet and dead, and she was sure the boys were already asleep at this time.

Seul glanced at the clock on the wall and muttered “It is just 5, ugh” she hugged her body, dragging her lazy feet to the kitchen. She made herself a hot cocoa in hope after this she could shut her eyes for two hours before sun rose again.

As she was about to leave with a cup of cocoa in her hand, she saw light flooding out from the open door of one of the rooms. She walked silently towards the source of light making sure her feet on the ground did not produce any unwanted sound.  The room was a private lounge room for the boys to chill when they have times, it was decorated with music equipment at the corner, book shelves and a small purple billiard table. Across the book shelves there was a L-shape sofa to complete the room.

Seul peeked her head a little searching for familiar faces inside but only to be welcomed by an empty room. Straighten herself back to her original trance, she reached out for the switch light to turn it off. To her sheer surprise, a pair of hand wrapped securely around her wrist preventing her from moving. Startled, Seul’s eyes searched from the owner of the hand who stood few steps from her.

“Jimin…” she exhaled.

Jimin’s eyes looked sleepily and there were few strands of hair stuck out making him to appear super cute. To top that, he was wearing a cute blue pyjama with stars and moon design printed on it. Seul mentally judging Jimin’s appearance as well as trying to get a hold of herself from fangirling over this look.

“Can’t sleep?” he signalled the drinks in her hand with a flat smile.

“Yes.. do you want some I can make you one?” she offered.

Declining it politely, Jimin brought Seul’s hand down and looked at her way a little too intense. Her breath hitched in process like it was about to pop off any second by now “We can share” he suggested.

“Urm..Sure…” Jimin tugged her  hand softly, bringing her inside the room to the sofa. Both of them sat down awkwardly side by side, and it made her felt uneasy. Jimin held back his tongue finding a perfect word to start this conversation. He couldn’t sleep because the guilt was slowly eating him up. He had a hard time to get Seul out of his mind.

Licking his lower lips, Jimin fisted his pyjama stealing glance at Seul’s side profile that never ceased to amaze him. A soft smile crept on his face, but as soon as their eyes locked, it rendered him speechless. Words that came out from Seul’s mouth only went pass through him, his attention was on her soft lips. The stain of hot cocoa at the corner of her lips made his mind went wild for a moment. He had to urge to kiss her but quickly shrug the thought off from his mind.

“Jimin..I said, do you want to take a sip?” her brows quirked in confusion.

Jimin removed the mug from her hand and took a long sip of the hot drinks without looking at her. It was not his intention to have a weird thought on Seul, yet he couldn’t help but to think that way. His hand was shaking a little, and his grip on the mug was about to slip off but Seul fast reflex avoided any accident happen.

She sat the mug down on the coffee table, sending a worried glance at Jimin “Jimin are you alright?” she whispered. Seul touched his forehead with the back of her hand, flustering Jimin even more “I..am alright… Just cold…” he coughed away the lump on his throat.

“Do you want me to turn on the heater?” Seul was about to get up until she felt him holding her down not allowing her to move even an inch. She blushed at the closeness of their face and body. Watching her this up close caused uproar in his heart, his eyes travelled from her eyes to her cute nose down to her lips again.

Jimin ran his hand to her jaw, giving a soft trace around the skin that tingled her heart. She held back her own heavy breathing, letting her eyes roamed freely on Jimin’s face. He stroked his thumb over her lips, stroking it effortlessly slow caused the latter to mewl a little under his magic touch.

Seul was aware, she’s supposed to be upset of Jimin. They hadn’t talk about what happened at the café, and it was so wrong to be this close to each other. Where was the tense between them again? How could it diminish that easily?

Her eyes fluttered open upon feeling Jimin strong gaze on her, and she was indeed right. Jimin eyes sparked under the light, looking dashing as always even without his makeup. He would always appear beautiful in front of her. Resting his forehead against Seul, he murmured awfully low “Seul-ah..I am sorry..for everything” it surprised her once again. Wow, Jimin is full of surprise.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you or call you with those horrible names. I was protecting Jungkook and..myself I guess..It was hard to admit to my own feeling Seul-ah” he continued.

Protecting himself? Seul flinched.

Seul smiled meekly as her fingers unconsciously tangled with his free hand on his lap, fiddling around casually “I understand. And I want to apologize too. It is my fault that this happen. You have the right to question me, because I am a stranger. Just don’t call me bitch, I really hated it” her lower lips puckered out a little showing her protest.

Jimin’s soft chuckle ease the tension that she felt earlier with him “I need to control my anger next time. I am sorry that I vent it out on you. In fact, I have something to tell you Seul” Seul face fell with anticipation.

What else would she hear today?

“Seul-ah” he called out softly, sitting up straight.

For the umpteenth time today, Seul’s face started to lose its colour again.

Interlacing their hand together, Jimin took a deep breath before breaking the eerie silence again “Since it come to this, I will play it fair beside Jungkook” he professed.

“What do you mean by that” she looked at him clueless.

“I see you as a woman...”

“……..”

“I like you a lot Seul. More than you imagine. This feeling is torturing me” Seul lips quivered letting the emotions overflowed her. Then it hit him hard, so this was the thing that Namjoon hinted her earlier. Jimin was another someone in BTS who had similar feelings as Jungkook.

Seul squeaked “Jimin..I…don’t know, it is just-“ he hushed her, shaking his head slowly.

“Don’t… I want to play it fair as I mention. You don’t get to decide now. We will give this thing a time. I don’t mind, as long as you allow me to show my genuine feelings for you. Will you?”

“Jimin..I might not be worth fighting for” she looked down on their intertwined hands, giving him a soft squish.

He sighed “Yes you are. I deny my feelings enough Seul and I am not doing that again. It only hurts you and I. That is not worth it,  I am embracing my feelings that I have for you. Let me fight along with Jungkook” Seul heaved a tired sigh.

“I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want Jungkook to get hurt. What if, this only bring pain rather than happiness?” she expressed her worries. Even though, it was indeed true you couldn’t stop yourself from falling in love, but this issue was more than just that. It involved a lot of thing.

“We will manage that. I talked this out with Jungkook”

Her eyes rounded in sheer surprise “You did? When?” she inquired.

“Urm… as soon as the talk with Namjoon hyung ended. Jungkook is more than just a friend, he is my family. We talked about this. Seul, it is not like we plan to fall in love with the same person. It is coincidence. We will be able to manage this without hatred” Jimin convinced.

Seul needed a moment to decipher this whole thing. The idea of being in the middle of Jimin and Jungkook was so bad making her unsure of herself. If this only involved these two guys then it would be fine to her, but what if someone else resurfaced and professed the same thing, like Yoongi. She shrugged off the thought of the possibility being fight over again by another member.

“Jimin..I am not sure, I am scared of the future”

“Then lets live the present, that is important. Do not think about the future”

“At the end of the day, I will still have to choose” she protested.

“And when that day come, we will ready our heart Seul-ah. It is long way to go, do not let the future hold us back” he whispered, caressing her cheeks lovingly.

It never dawns on her to experience this kind of thing this year, what a mess. Did her decision to replace her mother as BTS Caretaker only to cause chaos rather than promoting peace?

Seul sighed, resting her head against his shoulder seeking for comfort and warmth. This thing was draining her energy, she felt numb. Jimin wrapped his arm automatically around her shoulder, bringing her close to his chest “I am sorry if this is too much for you to handle Seul” he rubbed his arm, planting soft kiss on top of her head.

Curling up in his embrace, Seul buried her face at the crook of his neck, inhaling his sweet manly scent “I am sorry that I can’t give both of you the answer that you want” she mumbled against his skin.

“Why are you sorry? We don’t need the answers now, we only need your presence around us. That is enough” he soothed his lock, smiling ear to ear at their close proximity. He had been dreaming doing this thing with Seul, having her in her arms and cuddling on the sofa. It felt unreal.

“Thank you Seul..”

“And what is that for?”

“For existing and allowing me to experience this”

Seul smiled to herself “That line is so cliché Jim. And, thank you for having that kind of feeling for me. ” he beamed. Jimin locked his arms around her tighter, nuzzling her hair in process. Whatever it takes, Jimin would never deny his true feelings anymore. He’s willing to see how far this could go. Only that he was not able to see what the future beholds, it never stops him.

Her lids started to grow heavy, and she found herself enjoying Jimin’s warmth around her. Was this a start of everything? She did question herself what change after today. Guess, Seul had to live with the fact that in one day she received two confessions from an unexpected male.

Her life was about to get interesting.

 -----------------

When Jimin woke up it was eight in the morning, they had cuddled on the couch and fallen asleep. Jimin smiled to himself admiring Seul’s sleeping face, he felt a warmth that he never experiences before. Seul looked exhausted and calm in his embrace. His moist lips landed on top of her head to get her to wake up.

Few minutes later, she roused herself and with her eyes perfectly shut, he could see her sweet smile on her face “Did we fell asleep here?” she stretched a little, burying her face shyly in his chest.

Jimin chuckled, stroking her back gently “Yes, but we did get a good sleep anyway” Seul nodded and sat up followed by Jimin afterwards. As soon as her eyes landed on Jimin’s morning hair, she giggled and leaned closer. Raking her fingers in his soft lock, she stroked it gently, fixing it a little while Jimin was too busy staring at her.

“There you are set to go” she exclaimed. Her chirpy voice lightens up his world, what a good way to start a new day. “Oh shoot, it is late I need to clean the house and prepare you guys breakfast. I hope Jin is not awake yet” she combed her hair getting ready to leave.

“You go out first I will come out later. You don’t want to be bombarded by questions this early” he pinched her nose. Scrunching her nose cutely, she gave in with the idea. Seul arose from her feet and as she was about to leave, she skipped quickly to his side.

Dazed Jimin gave her a questionable look, she closed the gap between them, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He turned giddy over it and she heard her whisper “You said to give both of you a chance. So, I am giving both of you a chance. Good morning Jimin” with those last word, she skidded outside the room with a bright pink face.

Jimin buried himself once again under the soft blanket, letting himself fanboying over this small tingly feeling that he had this early. He would never regret his decision. Just like he said, he would only live the present for now. The future was still far ahead, anything could happen until then. If he worries the future now, it would be no fun in dealing with his every day’s life.

 ------------------

Jin blinked at the figure who just walked pass him and he called her out before she could disappear further “Seul, you are awake?” she jolted and turned to face Jin nervously.

“Are you awake already? I am so sorry, I overslept Jin. Let me prepare the breakfast!” she walked over to Jin with guilt.

“Hey don’t worry Seul. It is my duty. Today, I want you to eat my cooking. May I know why are you coming out from that way?” he blinked, taking a good look at Seul’s flushed face.

Seul rubbed her arms, trying to find perfect answers which did not sound suspicious “I couldn’t sleep yesterday. I stayed in the lounge until I fell asleep” Jin lips was formed into an ‘o’ shape with a bright smile.

“Good morning hyu-“Jimin cleared his throat realizing the older guy had woken up and was interrogating Seul. She cursed in her head in frustration when she heard Jimin’s voice boomed across the hall. That called for another trouble.

Jin eyed the two suspiciously “And why are you not in your room, may I ask?” he probed with a hint of jealousy.

“I…fall asleep in Jungkook’s room.. We got carried away and we really had a long talk” he lied. Jimin and Seul exchanged nervous glance as both of them felt their brain momentarily froze due to Jin’s sudden appearance this morning.

“Really? Hurm.. Okay then.. go wash up and wake up others” a sigh of relief escaped from their lips. Jin bought it and that was good enough. Fleeing from the scene, Jimin quickly entered his room before he could ask him more question.

Jin travelled his eyes to Seul “You too go wash up. I will prepare breakfast for us alright?” he hushed her out from his territory causing the girl to pout in protest. She complied to Jin’s request anyways because after all, he almost caught her red handed a few second ago. How awful would it be if Jin found out Jimin and her fell asleep on the couch together?

Everyone was in the dining room an hour later, and for some reason the thick atmosphere was no longer there. Instead, the breakfast turned out to be lively and filled with laughter from every corner. The boys made Seul felt comfortable and she was grateful none of them brought up the sensitive topic anymore. So, they had decided to follow the flow and not to pressure themselves over petty things. Since Jimin and Jungkook had decided to play it nicely, there was nothing to be worried off.

Hoseok on the other hand had the time of his life, goofing around with Seul which she enjoyed every second the guy cracked his silly jokes. In fact, Kim Taehyung also showed his silly side making everyone cringe at his randomness. Everyone had opened up to each other and to have Seul in the picture gave more colours to their already meaningful life. After breakfast, Seul cleaned up the place like she usually does but only this time the boys offered their hands to help.

No matter how much she insisted of doing it alone, they were all stubborn. They only allowed her to do the laundry and cleaned the living room and their private lounge. Namjoon ordered his members to clean their own room which they complied without any complain. Even for the lazy bum Jungkook, surprisingly he was the first one to finish off the cleaning. Therefore, he went to Seul helping her with the laundry.

She had given up to nag or show her protest, so she let the boy to help. In exchanged of that, Seul had a good chat with Jungkook. It felt better to have conversation with Jungkook without his mask on. This felt too real to be truth, but this guy was down to earth. Every Bangtan members was not as snobby as she thought they appeared to be. They were not just effortlessly beautiful, but they were kind and relatable.

Relatable, that was the perfect way to describe them.

After good one-hour spring cleaning with Bangtan, they were ready to leave for their practice. Seul too was getting ready to leave for work, she bowed showing off her gratitude for letting her stay over a day “Thank you for letting me stay” she smiled.

“Need I to remind you this is your workplace too. Don’t be formal. We are glad to have you around” Jin ruffled her hair only to receive a low protest from Seul. She shot him a glare for messing up her hair. Jin raised his hand in defeat and shrugged.

“It is fun to clean the dorm with you Seul. Will we be able to meet you again next time?” Taehyung had a big fat smile across his face causing to squeal over his cuteness. “Of course, there will always be next time” she jabbed his arm playfully.

“Leave before your manager come up hunting you down. Have a good day ahead everyone” she waved as she watched one by one of them leaving. Jungkook gave her a brief hug with a wink, causing her to blush instantly.

She deadpanned mentally, trying to get used to his affection towards him.

Yoongi was fall behind and the sight in front of him, annoyed him to the core. He shoved his hand in his pocket pulling out a small paper resembled the sticky note. Scrutinizing his straight face, Seul looked down on her hand when he slipped the note on her palm.

“What is this?”

“Tomorrow, 4PM. Bungee jumping. It is a date” he dashed off without saying more. Seul gawked not believing what she just heard few seconds ago. Did Yoongi just ask her out for a date? It came to her realization; the small note was an admission ticket to the bungee jumping thing.

Does it mean, it isn’t just Jimin. Yoongi too? She grunted under her sharp breath. Seul was making sense out of this again. How was it possible to have three guys chasing after her fragile heart?

   This work belongs to  Chimswae © 2020. All Rights Reserved

[ethanramseyyy]

OPEN HEART : SECOND YEAR CHAPTER 9

It’s back!!!

Wow, this chapter was actually one of the funniest and craziest chapters of both Open Heart books. I mean there was kissing, impersonating your twin, stealing patients. I thought it was amazing!

So the opening scene with Kyra’s scan was so cute and heart warming. The fact he knows when we need him is the cutest thing about MC and Ethan’s relationship. I don’t know why but this scene was just so cute to me and weirdly enough I think it’s one of my favourite scenes between MC and Ethan. It just seems so genuine! And then June had to come in and ruin the moment. I really can’t tell if she hates MC or likes us but to be honest I dont know how I feel about her either.

I LOVED Kyra’s response to hearing the news about the spread of her cancer. I think it’s really interesting that choices decided to develop her story and follow her journey whilst suffering from such a horrible disease. As we all know cancer affects so many people and I think having a game that shows the reality of it, is really cool and much needed. I also believe her response was so so badass and brave. I think choices have done an AMAZING job of showing that cancer doesn’t define who you are. I just really enjoyed this scene 😊

Ok so I’m undecided about June’s character. I feel like her response to MC was very uncalled for. June walked in as MC was crying about her friend who is dying from cancer and the fact that Edenbrook might not be around for much longer and she had the nerve to say suck it up. Like I get that sometimes constructive criticism is needed, but surely she could have been a little less rude. And then she had the audacity to ask if we wanted her to slap us. Like BITCH WHAT!?! NO. I don’t know how everyone else felt but I just think she seemed a little rude. See if that was our main man Mr Ethan Ramsey, he would have comforted us and told us everything is going to be ok because he’s just that in love with us. A girl can dream.

Ok now moving onto the BEST part of the chapter. The Mass Kenmore mission. Undeniably the most fun and crazy scene in this book so far. There’s just so much to this scene. Ok, so let’s begin with the part when we had to actually get into Mass Kenmore. “She’s with me, obviously”. When I tell you I DIED AND CAME BACK TO LIFE, I’m not being dramatic. The Ethan Ramsey who basically told us that ‘it could never work because he is our boss and it is forbidden’ is deceased. And I’m glad. I just can’t deal with him. And that’s not even the best part.

So the next section is when MC and Ethan are hacking into Mass Kenmores system to try and find the Senator. It’s crazy to me that he can literally hack into a hospitals patient system yet can’t work a phone. Anyways.... We find the Room number but then a doctor enters the room. So the logical thing to do would have been to make up some excuse or let Ethan charm his way out of it. But no. Our Husband KISSED US VOLUNTARILY. Now not to be dramatic but he kissed us. He grabbed us by our scrubs and kissed us. Without warning. NO ONE CAN TELL ME HE ISNT IN LOVE WITH US. Ok? Ok. I do have a question though. What does he do if your aren’t romancing him, does he still kiss you because that would be quite awkward.

Now I can’t really remember the correct timeline to this whole scene but I’m just going to focus on my personal favourite moments. Baz is literally one of the best ideas for a new character that Choices could have come up with. I love him with all my heart. The fact he dressed up as his twin brother just to help us steal a patient is commitment. I also found it funny that he forgot how to be mean and couldn’t remember how to be like his brother. I’m still waiting for a full scene with both of them though. I feel like it would be so funny to see their interactions with each other.

And then we arrive at the senators room, convince him to come to Edenbrook because we are the better hospital (obviously) and the mission is successful. But then as we leave Tobias spots us. And to be honest this section is honestly the most light hearted bit of the entire book. It sums up MC and Baz’s friendship so much. We run for our lives and then another one of my favourite moments was when Ethan appeared in his car and said “need a ride?”. How can you not adore this man? He’s actually unreal 😍.

Now let’s focus on June a little bit more. When she admitted she was sleeping with Tobias, I didn’t know whether I wanted to slap her or stan their relationship (if you can even call it that). I kinda see them making a sweet couple but she is literally sleeping with the enemy. Like you go girl but also how dare she sleep with him. You know?!? I just can’t decide whether I like her or not. She’s a really difficult person to understand. One minute she’s being nice to us and then the next she’s telling us to stop crying over our dying friend. LIKE MAKE UP YOUR MIND WOMEN. You either hate us or not. But also like wouldn’t it be fun if Tobias got attached to June and wanted an actual relationship but then she just binned him off as soon as Edenbrook is successful again. If she does that I stan.

The final scene with Bryce, MC and Kyra was so so adorable. I feel as though Kyra’s battle against cancer has all been put on MC and the other friends haven’t really been involved too much. So I think it was good that Bryce was there and it came together as a really sweet scene where we found out that Kyra was willing to fight and have the surgery. Now, we know that in the end of the book someone is going to die and I might sound stupid for saying this butttt I’m not 100% convinced it is Kyra. I know, I know its stupid but I feel as though the first scene of the book was so shocking that it seems silly that they would basically confirm that it is Kyra who is going to die from her cancer. It seems a little bit TOO obvious to me. But maybe I’m just overthinking it. I want to know who everyone else thinks is going to die because I’m still not sure.

Rafael stans. I’m so sorry sweetie. Choices literally removed him as a love interest and now removing him from the book altogether. I can’t believe they would do that. I swear if it’s his new ‘girlfriend’ who is convincing him to leave. I’m going to kill her myself.

Overall, I thought this chapter was amazing and I’m fully aware I say that about every single chapter but Open Heart 2 really is THAT BITCH.

I’m sorry that this post is a little all over the place but I’m just getting used to writing these again so I promise the next one will be better. Let me know your opinions about the chapter and the characters! Thanks for all the continued support, it means the world to me 💛

[impalementation]

Hi! This is probably a very random and broad question, but I was thinking of a couple of (what I'm gonna call) 'poetic' moments in Buffy (the "I walk. I talk..." speech in Restless; Spike and his speech before embracing the cross after getting his soul). Moments that feel so purposefully very artistic. So, I was wondering if you have a favorite moment like that in Buffy?

oh this is such a cool question!! i’m sorry it took so long to answer. i have a few favorites:

- yeah, spike on the cross gets me. “buffy, can we rest?” that line specifically gives me absolute chills. the total moral exhaustion in it. because that’s what getting a soul—ie having a moral self—to me, is all about. not guilt per se, but the necessity of making decisions all the time. of being responsible for yourself all of the time. however guilty spike feels, there’s no actual rest once you’ve committed to having morality, because morality is ongoing. which connects to buffy in season seven too. buffy in season seven finds herself increasingly weighed down by the pressure of being a moral authority. of being the one who has to make those decisions that get people killed. but getting a rest from that seems as impossible to her as getting a rest from being a person would be. from being yourself. i see spike on the cross as being about the raw desperation for a way out from that impossible burden of selfhood. (of course when buffy finds her way out, with sharing the slayer power, it’s not about her escaping personhood, but allowing the personhood of others to have equal weight. and when spike sacrifices himself, it’s not about self-destruction either. it’s about giving of himself. how to have a non-destructive, non-avoidant rest: that is the question.)

- that moment in the surprise dream sequence where buffy reaches out and angel’s fingers crumble. i wrote about it briefly before, but it’s just such a perfect image of unattainability. it’s the entire season in a single image, really. the feeling of reaching for something—love, beauty, romance, narrative—but the instant you touch it it falls apart. because ideals can’t coexist with reality. they can only be approached. like a mathematical limit. and growing up involves learning the tragedy of that.

- the part of the dead things dream sequence where it switches between buffy staking spike and buffy staking katrina. it feels like a key clicking into a lock. like you’re suddenly given a decoder ring for the episode and buffy’s character at that point in the season. you understand that the show is painting buffy as full of confused moral guilt. you can suddenly trust that all of the parallels between warren and the other characters are deliberate. it brings up this question of: warren may be despicable and unsympathetic, and buffy may be our hero, but perhaps the temptation to avoid responsibility is actually a matter of degree.

- the bit in fool for love where it switches between spike in the past and spike in the present. it’s not an obviously “heightened” moment but it’s absolutely poetic in a cinematic sense. the collapsing of past and present is great on so many levels. first for the way that it quickly becomes ironic—spike is showing off his continuity between his past and his present, talking himself up, but soon is shown to have continuity between his past and present in a less flattering way (“you’re beneath me”). second for the way that it brings up issues of continuity for buffy too. is she just playing out a fight that her sister slayers have played out a million times before? is escaping that fate, that narrative, even a possibility? impotence in the face of seemingly inevitable things—eg mortality—is a season-long motif. and the threateningly inexorable mood of the past/present switch contributes to it. also it’s just stylish in a way that delights me.

- lots of elements of the body. but right now the bit that’s standing out in my mind is when buffy goes to dawn at the school and we see dawn break down silently and through a pane of glass, and then the camera lingers on that drawing of a figure. for most of the episode, sound is removed to “remove comfort”, but in that scene sound is removed (or dampened) to create negative space instead. you become aware of the lack of sound, of your distance from the emotional intensity of what dawn is experiencing. it’s like the negative space created by joyce’s death has expanded around dawn and pushed her classmates, and the viewer, to the outside. when someone you know loses someone, you can’t experience their emotions the way that fiction often lets you experience the intimate emotions of fictional characters. but you can perceive the impact, the space, the way that loss filters down. the scene is like the opposite of the scene where buffy looks out her door and hears the windchimes. in that scene the audience is aligned with buffy and that absurd feeling of the ongoing mundanity of “real life” even in the midst of something awful and life-altering. whereas in the scene with dawn the audience is aligned with that mundane “real life” world. and there’s a truth in that too. loss is at once huge and consuming, and undignified, banal, absurd. but that duality looks different depending on whether you’re on the inside or the outside of it.

- …probably more but that’s what i got for now. thank you for asking!

[reachexceedinggrasp]

Fated to Love You here reaffirming my long held conviction that no pure romance drama should be 20+ episodes.

This show is... really something. It is, in the fullest possible sense, A Lot. It starts out as an all-out screwball comedy wrapped around a troperiffic romance fluff plot. Wall to wall clichés, but not in a bad way; in a meta, self-aware, peak performance, finest Velveeta way. And if you’re not familiar with screwball comedy, think ‘light-hearted crack fic with slapstick and farce’. There is nothing believable or grounded about any aspect of it, it starts at Bonkers Level: Platinum and it only climbs higher as it goes on.

(On a side note, this results in the leading man being possibly the most memorable love interest in romcom history. His introduction scene is nothing short of batshit insane and you can't reliably predict how he will respond to anything. I have never seen a main character like this, he is all over the shop and utterly singular. Your first reaction to him is ‘wtf?’, your second and third reactions are ‘really?! this guy??’, your fourth reaction is ‘okay he do be mad hot tho’, your fifth and final reaction is ‘I cannot believe this performance exists, I have no idea what he is doing, but it is amazing.’

Appropriately(?) the actor who plays him is an uncanny Korean doppelgänger of Johnny Depp and- between the resemblance, the mannerisms, and the fearless total commitment to a bold as fuck acting choice with the very serious chops to back it up- I’m not convinced they aren’t half brothers separated at birth.

They do sabotage my happiness several times by starting to randomly style his (long, beautiful) hair very weird, fixing it right when the plot is rapidly circling the drain so he looks his hottest just as the show becomes briefly unwatchable, and then ruining him for the entire second half of the series by shearing it all off. WHY, my anguished cry goes up. Why do you do this?! Why does he have like seven hairstyles over the course of the show? Much later they even briefly give him that ubiquitous Kdrama Second Lead haircut with weirdly forward combed fringe in a solid straight line across the brow all the way back from the crown. It looks terrible on everyone and I hate it so much. This version was less bad than most but it is still bad. Anyway.)

So it’s an incredibly fun time to start but there are some problems with the tone and plot even in the first 9 episodes, including when the lovers start getting along really well right away and they’re both thoroughly decent people so there’s nothing keeping them from having a lovely time together making the best of the circumstances (forced/fake marriage). And, instead of introducing new conflict or advancing one of the dozen conflicts previously established and actually moving forward, there is a painfully contrived rehash of something they already dealt with which is then just never resolved. They make the hero leap to a conclusion his wife is nefarious after he’d already decided once that she isn’t (though it was completely reasonable for him to think she was- the fact that he decided to trust her so quickly just speaks to what kind of person he is), never try to find out more or talk to anyone about it, start pushing her away because of it, and have all this come to absolutely nothing. It only exists so he’ll stop being so incredibly nice to her and they won’t fall in love too fast.

You’d think they would have to eventually clear the air before the romance advances right? No. It wasn’t a real plot point, it was just a reset button to get them estranged and hostile again after they connect over their kindred spirits and we’ve spent a bunch of time showing how profoundly supportive and honourable our hero is. He’s being beautifully mature and selfless because he’s a really good dude (unusual for a romcom drama, right? for the main guy to be nice and considerate? to accept responsibility even if he doesn’t have to? Gun’s weird but he’s wonderful), but the writers need him to be cold and standoffish, so they just make him act like an unreasonable idiot for a while. He’s been thus far hugely proactive and direct and honest about everything, it’s one of his most prominent character traits, but suddenly he’s going to avoid confrontation in favour of being super passive aggressive?? Then the writers never solve it. Never! It just goes away. He got over it, I guess? He decided he doesn’t care if she’s a gold digger who deliberately trapped him? God forbid we have motivations that make sense and organic character drama, right? It's not like he didn't have totally valid reasons to be suspicious that could have led to legitimate conflict our heroine would struggle to vindicate herself from.

But anyway, apart from that kind of lazy bullshit, it’s a fine romance plot with extremely endearing characters who have great chemistry. They are fun and well-rounded and incredibly human despite all the silliness and OTT antics. Their relationship is hugely, hugely engaging and the dynamic is perfect, they really complement each other as characters and organically drive each other's arcs. There's the genuine depth and warmth and quiet pathos so often lacking from this kind of show. Things progress at a semi-reasonable pace. They work up to confessing their mutual feelings and get into some cute shenanigans before making out. It happens soon enough that you are not frustrated, but there's still plenty of build-up. Then- uh oh! We’re only 9 eps in and we have another 11 hours to fill with this fluffy plot!

Time for a bunch of absolute fucking nonsense. Time for our show, which has been so goofy and removed from reality it occasionally resembles a Monty Python skit, which has been so light it asks you to ignore the frankly incredibly fucked up implications of its premise for the sake of comedy (they were both drugged and proxy raped resulting in a pregnancy- the FL was a virgin prior to this and Gun had a girlfriend he wanted to propose to- and it was the FL’s family who did this to them: SUPER FUCKED UP), so farcical that it makes Some Like it Hot look like a gritty crime drama, that show to cover a bunch of serious heavy shit.

First, the rankest of melodrama. The families and the world all turn on our couple, but their love is true and will conquer all- UNTIL, he randomly collapses and gets convenient Soap Opera Amnesia. He’s forgotten their entire relationship and a series of coincidental pieces of misconstrued evidence, the machinations of his scheming ex girlfriend, the Soap Opera Doctor’s advice, and his closest confidants all going along with this conspire to make him believe (AGAIN) that his wife just wants his money.

This whole terrible episode is mercifully brief, but it just gets worse after his memory returns. This is where we get into the Noble Idiocy. The ‘pretend you don’t love them to “save them” from getting hurt by hurting them and making their important life decisions for them as if they don’t have a basic fucking right to decide that themselves’ kind. Which goes on for three FUCK years in the show. He wastes three years of their lives they could have spent together because he’s worried he might die young (in a terrible way) and doesn’t want to put her through that. And, of course, they inevitably get together later, so all he did was make it infinitely worse for her either way. To say nothing of how he thus couldn’t be there for her through the loss of their child. Possibly my most hated fucking trope of all time when done this way.

And, yep, you read that right. This show that has the single most batshit bonkers over the top slapstick I have ever seen in a kdrama, this show has a storyline where the fluffy romcom trope accidental pregnancy ends in massive trauma. Because she was standing around in the street after realising he does remember her (he continued to pretend he had amnesia after his memories came back, it’s all part of the stupid noble idiocy so I glossed over it) and gets hit by a car in the middle of their angst staring.

It is nearly Meet Joe Black levels of hilariously abrupt and incongruous.

so, blah blah, they lose their baby (there’s a very stupid whole thing about her telling everyone to save the baby instead of her- the baby is not far enough along for this to have been remotely viable. She is like 3 months pregnant. They all act like there’s a choice to be made between them and she’s mad at her husband for choosing to save her, but there was NO CHOICE. Either she lives or they both die! ffs I’m so irritated about this) and then he dumps her ~for her own good~~ because he loves her too much to make her go through losing him? So she loses him sooner?? right after their baby died???

Why do people in these stories always think being betrayed and abandoned for no reason and being incredibly angry at someone you love while also not getting to be with them is somehow less painful than making the best of your life together and then losing them against their will? ‘I will make her hate me and then she won’t be sad we broke up/I died!!!!’ is such a fucking galaxy brain take and I despise it with the heat of ten thousand suns. Fuck you, Spider-Man. You aren’t protecting anyone, the villains still know you love MJ and will still use her against you, you clod. Emotionally torturing the person you love is not going to make them not a target because the villains are not as fucking stupid as you two. Anyway.

Amnesia was right where I started fast-forwarding and skipping around (because I couldn’t bear it), but it only goes downhill from there. Maybe I would have toughed out more of the wretched middle part plot twist if they hadn’t cut all the hot guy’s hair off. If I’m going to watch total nonsense tedious melodrama, I need it to at least be pretty. I understand it was a Symbolic Haircut but damnit! Let me have this!

And it ultimately does the thing that kdramas seem obsessed with and which makes me want to claw out my own eyeballs with frustration. There’s a giant time skip, the female lead gets a personality transplant, all narrative momentum is lost, and the characters who eventually (at ENORMOUS length) get together permanently are essentially completely different characters with a completely different dynamic than the couple you were shipping for 90% of the story. It is so FUCKING unsatisfying and it is EVERYWHERE.

Not so much with this one because this one still had a lot of very romantic scenes late in the game, but most that do this, it’s also like all the romance is sucked out of the post-time skip episodes and the ending is a consolation prize instead of a triumphant culmination. Inevitably, the heroine abruptly cools off and is suddenly wary of the hero and wants this Important New Career she never mentioned until the penultimate episode but is now her one true life’s dream. What the apparently irresistible appeal is of these contrived separations and demure conclusions is I CANNOT FATHOM. I’m here for the fucking romance guys, you have not made Citizen Kane, please just indulge me with a big schmoopy finale.

And if not that, it’s frequently that there’s been so many random mood swings and so much shitty behaviour by the end that the relationship doesn’t make sense and you don’t know why they even bother to get back together.

I’m not inherently against all misunderstandings (they are the bread and butter of low stakes romance let’s be real) or attempts at noble idiocy from misguided characters, but the duration and seriousness of the drama these generate needs to be in proportion to how ridiculous they are. If your entire plot can be solved by a thirty second conversation there is NO REASON not to have and the continuation of the misunderstanding is a result of someone just NOT SPEAKING UP when any functional human being would have spoken up seven times by now IT’S BAD.

Do little cliff-hangers, whatever, but don’t draaaaagg out silly misconceptions into Shakespearean tragedy, it’s just wearying. It makes me hate the characters for acting like emotionally constipated toddlers with terminal stupidity. If there is so little trust, so little understanding, and so little basic patience between these people, they probably shouldn’t be dating, so try fucking harder, writers. And noble idiocy that is more than an impulse they fairly quickly see the error of is just insulting. You are not helping the other person, you are being domineering and selfish. I have a whole complex about wasting time and seeing endless parades of characters flushing years down the toilet for literally no reason gives me hives. Especially when the whole issue is about time!

(And, btw, so much of the plot is about how desperately the family needs an heir and everyone still wanting them to have kids the second time they get together- while the ~dilemma used to keep them apart is a GENETIC DISEASE which could STRIKE AT ANY TIME. Do you SEE THE PROBLEM WITH THIS WRITERS????? NO, I KNOW YOU DON’T. ommmmmmmmggggg that’s awful! So they’re just dooming more kids to Soap Opera Brain Disease? And maybe growing up without a father just as Gun did? And no one even considers suggesting adoption??? He never considers that he shouldn’t have biological children despite thinking he shouldn’t have a wife?)

ANYWAY. Please do watch the first nine episodes and the last three, it’s bananas. They are cute as fuck, Gun is The Best, and the tropey romance scenes are top quality. You don't get those things executed so well, it doesn't happen, so you need this in your life. The acting is of a calibre you never usually see in modern romcoms; these are people at the top of their game committing utterly and taking these characters completely seriously. In that way it is pure wish fulfilment for me as someone who loves romance and is almost always disappointed by popular romance media, and thus the show is incalculably special. But skip the middle. Just skip it. It's not worth the suffering. I find the tone whiplash honestly just this side of crass.

I’ve been thinking about it for over a week and I truly love the main characters so it did plenty right, but I just cannot with wedding the two things this show is trying to be together, especially when it goes so hard in two mutually exclusive directions. but also the Meet Joe Black sudden car accident device is not redeemable under any circumstances. Can we never do that again, please.

[dallasweston]

[THOMAS DOHERTY, CISMALE, HE/HIM] WHO’S THAT? OH IT’S [DALLAS WESTON]. I HEAR THEY’RE [21] AND ARE KNOWN AS [THE RICH KID ADDICT] AROUND [NEW YORK] AND HAVE A VOICE LIKE [JAMES BLAKE]. THEY'RE ALSO A [JUNIOR] AT [NYU] AND A PART OF [WNYU-FM AND WAITER AT SARDI’S]. THEY’RE KNOWN TO BE [CHARISMATIC AND FUN] AND [INDULGENT AND RECKLESS]. SOME PEOPLE SAY THEY REMIND THEM OF [STAYING OUT UNTIL THE SUN COMES UP, GOING TO CLASS HUNG OVER AND MAKING OUT WITH HIS FRIENDS].

BASICS

Full Name: dallas roy weston

Nickname: dally, dal, d

Birthday: august 8, 2021

Place of Birth: los angeles, ca

Age: twenty one

Zodiac Sign: leo☼, leo☽, sagittarius↑

Hometown: calabasas, ca

Current Residence: a lofty, spacious studio in bushwick, just underneath miles pearce’s penthouse apartment

Sexuality: heterosexual

Relationship Status: single

Education: high school diploma (oak park high school), currently enrolled at new york university

Major: music / music technology

Occupation: student / waiter at sardi’s

Activities: college radio host (wnyu-fm)

LIKES/DISLIKES

LIKES: the west coast, writing music, performing, producing, tea (the drink...but gossip works too), staying out late, party drugs, microdosing, one night stands, vacation, laughing so hard he can’t breathe, jewelry, making friends, being the center of attention, being admired, romance, the ‘talking’ stage, generosity, jam sessions

DISLIKES: having his ego bruised, being embarrassed, being ignored, reality checks, juuls, country music, feeling inferior, people who are uptight, rigidity, playing it safe, last call for alcohol

TL;DR BIO

Dallas is a charming, happy person who is just trying to live fast while he’s young. He’s a bit of a cliche—a New York transplant from Los Angeles pursuing music. He’s a generous spirit with a good heart, and sure, his overindulgence in alcohol and other substances isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but anyone willing to see past that will get the opportunity to bask in the warm light he radiates. In his opinion, it’s not that hard and it’s definitely worth it. 

FULL BIO

Dallas was born to Brody and Casey Weston. Despite being named after his mother’s hometown, Dallas was born and raised in sunny Los Angeles. His mother is a high profile talent agent at ICA, best known for discovering emerging talent and catalyzing their careers, while his father continues to write and produce movies after penning the Academy Award nominated film, The Male Escort Diaries.

Growing up in the valley near Los Angeles with two successful parents working in the ever elusive ‘industry,’ it was no surprise that Dallas also took an interest in entertainment. Although he appreciates film & television and the work his parents do, his passion is and has always been music. Because his parents’ network was vast, Dallas was lucky enough to grow up around musicians—whether they be clients, colleagues or friends of the family. He started playing the piano when he was only eight years old and taught himself how to play the guitar in middle school. When his parents realized that he was serious about music, they sent him to singing lessons and began investing in his hobby when they realized he had potential. 

At Oak Park High, Dallas’ winning smile and warm personality catapulted him to the top tier of the social pyramid. Was he the most popular guy at school? No, but he was definitely friends with that guy. If someone asked Dallas if he cared about popularity, he’d say no, but the reality was that he loved having his ego stroked. He liked being the life of party and the center of attention so...the admiration and praise that came with being popular didn’t just feel like a want, it felt like a need.

Dallas always considered himself a pretty average kid. He knew people with parents more famous, rich and powerful than his, so to him? He never considered himself that wealthy or whatever. He was blissfully unaware of how different his upbringing had been compared to say...some random kid from Ohio. That changed when he decided to attend New York University. 

New York (specifically NYU) was definitely still riddled with snobby, rich kids...but the flip side also existed...and Dallas found that he liked the company of those kids more. The deeper he got into his education, the more he realized he didn’t want to be written off as some rich kid with connected parents. So he tends to keep his background to himself unless asked. He has a day job (although he doesn’t need one) and he works hard at school to prove himself.

When Dallas first arrived to New York, he believed the only differences between there and LA were that LA had better looking people, better food, better weather, and people with better attitudes. However, with every subway ride or new venue discovered, he realized New York had something LA didn’t. Culture. Personality. The music scene in New York was grungier and more exciting and Dallas loved it. He figured LA could stand to lose him for four years while he earned his degree. He was sure he’d be back in his hometown soon enough. 

Now that he’s completing his third year at NYU, Dallas feels pretty entrenched in the city’s music scene. He’s getting consistent praise for his sound engineering and song writing, which means he’s performing at open mics more frequently, all in the hopes that one day he’ll play for the right person and get ‘discovered.’ Despite not having made it yet, Dallas is already living like a rock star. He stays out all night partying, dabbles in almost any drug that is handed to him and, on the flip side, shares his stash of party favors with anyone and everyone who so much as flashes him a smile. He has a steady rotation of sexual partners, all of whom he genuinely enjoys, but none of whom he takes seriously enough to actually commit to. 

Overall, Dallas is a charming, happy person who is just trying to live fast while he’s young. He’s a generous spirit with a good heart, and sure, his overindulgence in alcohol and other substances isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but anyone willing to see past that will get the opportunity to bask in the warm light he radiates. In his opinion, it’s not that hard and it’s definitely worth it. 

[hees-theman]

Mistake at the First Sight (Chapter IV)

CHAPTER FOUR

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Female!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Enemies to Lover

Summary: You’re a transfer student from London and Park Seonghwa thought that you don’t know Korean language. Little did he know, you are actually a Korean who moved back to the place you were born.

A/N: I’m sorry I didn’t update for a month now since I was busy with my degree stuffs. Anyway, here’s an update and this is most probably the second last episode.

<< Chapter three

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Thanks to Seonghwa’s long legs, catching up with you is not a problem for him. As soon as he is near you, he wraps his hand around your wrist, stopping you from moving any further.

You stopped walking and turned your head to look at him with a fire ignited in your eyes. “What do you want, Park Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa is taken aback when he looks at your expression. You look so furious. Did he do anything wrong? What mistake did he commit? He is confused with the way you are looking at him right now.

“Why do you look so mad? Did something happen? Did I do something wrong?”

You let out a scoff. You couldn’t believe that the guy in front of you has the guts to ask you that question. Did he just pretend as if nothing happened? Or is he naturally dumb?

“It must be easy for you to get any ladies you want, right?”

Your words make Seonghwa frown as he tries to understand where did that random statement come from. Seonghwa stays silent at your sudden outburst. You take your hand away from his grip before opening your mouth again.

“How many girls have you give tissue with your number written on it?”

Seonghwa’s frown deepens at your question. Tissue? What?

That is when Seonghwa remembered the incident in the café. He shakes his head before letting out a soft chuckle, changing your mood from mad to confuse.

“That wasn’t me. She wrote her number on it but I refuse to take it.”

Your facial expression softens a bit at his justification of what happened back there. However, you do not want to make it obvious, so you lift your chin slightly and cross your arms, looking at him with a challenging look.

“Why? Because she is too easy for you? Is that why you didn’t take her offer?”

Your statement irked Seonghwa. His face went from soft to mad as soon as you finish your sentence.

“Do you think I’m like that?”

You shrug slightly. A smirk forming on your face as you look at him with the same expression as before.

“Why? Are you not like that? You sure look like a guy who would get into woman’s pants if they throw themselves at you – or maybe you prefer… women?”

Seonghwa had enough of your attitude. He took a few steps forward until he is standing right in front of you. Only then you realized how tall he is compared to you. With that expression of his, he makes you feel more intimidated than normal.

“I’m not like that.”

You look up to him, trying to not lose your ground.

“Why? You can get any girls you want. Why don’t you just go to them and-”

Your words were cut off by the sudden intrusion from Seonghwa.

“Because I like you, Kim Jooyeon!”

His sudden confession leaves you stunned. Suddenly, it seems like everything stops moving. You blink your eyes a few times before searching Seonghwa’s face, trying to detect any lies. However, the only thing that you found on his face is sincerity – especially his eyes.

His expression might look scary but his gaze towards you is passionate. It feels as if you can sense the longing behind it. Seonghwa, who just acknowledge his action, straightens his back and turn his face to the other side. He gulps down his saliva as blush slowly creeping onto his face.

Your eyes fall to his chest, witnessing how it rise and fall rapidly.

“When did you feel like this?”

Seonghwa’s tongue swipes along his lips, trying to wet it and hide his nervousness. He turns to look at you but your eyes are still lingering on his chest.

“After you confronted me for the first time,” he said. You bite your inner cheek as you tighten your hold on the strap of your bag.

“I’m going home first. Thank you for today.”

And just like that, you walk away from him, leaving him alone – for the second time.

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It had been a week since you mutter a single word to Seonghwa, and so did he. In the class, he no longer sits behind you. Whenever both of you ran to each other, no one speaks a word and just walks away as if the two of you are strangers – and it is too obvious for the boys and Jiyeon not to notice.

There were countless times where Jiyeon asked you to have lunch together with the boys, go out to watch movies with the boys, go hang out with the boys. You refused every single offer because you know if ‘the boys’ are there, that means Park Seonghwa will be there too, and you were not ready to face him yet.

You need some time and Seonghwa acknowledged that. There were times where he would wait for you in case if you would join him along with the boys and Jiyeon hanging out or he would reserve a place for you to sit during lunch hour, but no. You did not join them.

Seonghwa would be lying if he said that he was not upset with your actions, but he knew you need to process everything because it came to you without giving any signal.

San, being one of the closest to Seonghwa, had never seen him being this sad before. He used to smile a lot. Whenever the boys would tease him, he would try to fight back even though he knew he will lose, making him look so happy. Nowadays, he seems to be spacing out a lot. Most of the time, San needs to shake his shoulder harshly just to make him come back to reality.

San had enough of this.

“Jooyeon!”

You turn your head to the voice that called your name just to see San leaning against the wall. Both his hands are in his pocket and a smile plastered on his face.

You return the smile and walk towards him. “Jiyeon went to the toilet so if you want to meet her-“

“Actually, I’m waiting for you.”

San’s words succeed to make you stop talking. You look at him with confusion displayed on your face before pointing your finger at yourself.

“Me? You are waiting for me,” you questioned, trying to confirm if you just heard him right. San chuckles at your actions. He nods his head, indicating that you heard it right.

“What is it that you want to talk to me?”

San puffs out his cheeks before straighten up and points his finger to the front, asking you to walk with him. You were still confused but you just follow his steps as he started walking.

None of you say anything for a couple of minutes. You just walk and walk without knowing the destination San is heading for. However, it does not make you feel uncomfortable or awkward. Probably because both of you are already close with each other that you no longer need to have a conversation to justify your friendship.

Few more seconds has passed when San decided to speak first.

“Seonghwa confessed to you, right?”

That question makes you halt your steps. Your hand that was previously clinging onto the strap of your bag, are now at your side. Your face fell and your eyes look at San’s back.

“Did he tell you that?”

San turns around to face you before shaking his head, flashing you a soft smile. “I’ve known him for too long so I could figure it out.”

You turn your head to the side as you let out a breath that you did not even know you were holding.

“And by the way both of you are ignoring each other right now, that means it’s either you reject him, or you left him without any answer.”

You bite your lower lips at the last sentence. Having a friend like San is great because he cares about your well-being. Even so, the downside is that you cannot really hide and lie to him easily since he can sense it well.

You let out a sigh before stating the truth to San. “I… left him.”

The smile on his face widens slightly. He knows he is right and he is proud of it. He took a few steps towards you to ruffle your hair, making you glare at him in annoyance.

“Until when will you deny your feelings for him?”

For the third time today, he made you stunned. You know that it is easy for him to detect Seonghwa’s feelings as they have been together for God knows how long. But, when he asked that question to you, without you saying anything to him – now that is on another level.

Judging from your expression, he knew that you are surprised by his nth attack of the day. His hand that was on your hair moved to your shoulder and pat it a few times.

“Even though you didn’t admit it, I know that you have feelings for him. A feeling that is more than a friend. Although you may not notice it, I’ve seen your face whenever girls try to get closer to Seonghwa and talk to him in more than friendly ways. You would either clench your jaw or rolled your eyes so hard it almost popped out of its socket.”

If San is not talking facts right now, you swear you would have punched his face and kicked his knee for talking nonsense. You wished he was exaggerating his points but no, he did not because that was exactly your reactions during those situations.

“It’s already been a week, Jooyeon. Don’t you think you have hurt him and yourself enough by now?”

You filled your cheeks with air before letting out a sigh. Your fingers are now playing with each other as you look down on the floor, a small pout formed on your face.

“I don’t know how to tell him. It all went too fast. Besides, I’m not sure how deep my feeling is for him.”

It’s true, you know that you like Seonghwa more than a friend. But, you are not sure if you are ready to face it since you know you are scared of commitment.

Despite that, You could not deny the warm and fuzzy feeling inside your tummy every time you picture Seonghwa as your boyfriend and how nice it will be if both of you get to spend time together every day. You never know that you can imagine scenes like that before in your entire life.

“Come and join us at Rouge Club tomorrow night, then.”

You spin your head around at the familiar voice, just to see Jiyeon holding her phone in front of her face, a smirk plastered on her face. You look at the couple back and forth before finally realizing that they have both sets you up in this.

“Yah, Choi San. Kim Jiyeon. Is this how you treat your friend? Recording illegally while your friend is pouring out her worry?”

Jiyeon put down her phone and smile widely at you. She walks towards her boyfriend and San’s arms automatically wrapped around her waist as he buries his face in her hair, copying his girlfriend’s smile.

“I’m sorry, Jooyeon. But, we can’t stand seeing both of you suffering like this. So, blackmailing you is the only way that works.”

You know that there is no way out with this. Looking at the couple, you tilt your head to the side slightly and cross your arms against your chest.

“What do I need to do?”

Jiyeon and San exchanges glance with each other for few moments before turning their head back to you. Your friend then faces the screen of her phone towards you and press the ‘delete’ button on the video that she recorded before.

“Honestly, we don’t want to force you to come. But, we think its best if both of you can come to closure to this. We don’t want to see our precious friends looking gloomy all day every day. We want to see the real smile on both yours and Seonghwa’s face again.”

You lick your lower lips as you thought about your friends’ words. You can hear how concern they are about you and Seonghwa. No friends want to see their friends being sad. Yet, you still feel like you are not ready to face the tall guy.

You were about to reject their offer for the nth time when San step forward and cut you off.

“Please, Jooyeon. Do it for my sake. Tomorrow night… it’s my birthday party.”

Your face softens and your heart melts at his words. Now that you remember correctly, it is going to be San’s birthday the day after tomorrow. It does make sense why he wants to celebrate it tomorrow night.

With a defeat, you mutter softly but surely, “I will come”.

                                                                                                     Last chapter >>

[escapingpost]

Five Things Everyone Knows (Final)

Part 1: Five Things I Know About Cho Seungyoun 

Sequel: Five Things Cho Seungyoun Knows About You

Suggestive and language warning.

The kiss in the alleyway would have been the cherry on top for this mess of romantic comedy. It would be the turning point of the plot where the next few scenes were merely a fast-forwarded, shortened down versions of what would be to come with your perfect “friends to lovers” relationship.

But, you were hit with the reminder that this was not an actual romantic comedy and reality is much harsher.

The next day, you woke up from a text from yours truly telling you that the girl he was texting ages ago finally got back to him. They were going on a date this weekend.

Your mind went through different thoughts in a span of one minute:

Were the two of you that drunk yesterday? If that was the case, you would have a hangover. And Seungyoun? You were sure he was too busy making Hangyul drunk to drink himself.

Were you just dreaming? No, your hair definitely smelled of rain water and you could still almost feel Seungyoun’s strong arms around your waist.

Then, what the hell was this?

As if answering your thoughts, Seungyoun sends another text message.

younie: I smell like sewage right now. What even happened last night.

And with that one text message, you were brought back to the reality of romantic relationships in your twenties.

Romance was dead and so were your feelings.

NOT my best friend: Dumbass, how am I suppose to know.

“I can’t believe you did that.” Woohyun was currently hovering over Seungyoun on the couch as Seungyoun holds his phone out of his reach. Woohyun gets up and dusts himself off. “Have fun being lonely. I’m rooting for Hangyul.”

“Wait, Woohyun.” Seungyoun also gets up from his couch. “I’m sorry. I just, I can’t do it.”

“Seungyoun, what do you mean, you can’t?” Woohyun says trying to keep calm. Him and the guys did the most to get Seungyoun to realize his feelings, but when he actually does, it backfires.

“I don’t want to mess us up.” Seungyoun says, avoiding Woohyun’s gaze.

“You know the feeling is mutual, so why?” Woohyun asks.

Seungyoun takes out a few crinkled pieces of paper from the small trash in his studio. He takes the first crumple piece of paper and hands it to Woohyun.

Woohyun looks at Seungyoun weirdly before unfolding it and reading his chicken scratch writing.

I wish you happiness

It's okay if it's not me

I don't think I'm good enough for you

We're so different

Woohyun takes the rest of the crinkled papers and unfolds them.

Tell me you're tired of me

Tell me you're seeing someone else

For me, even just a little bit

To hate you, just lie to me

Woohyun stops reading and crumples the paper into its original state, “This is different from the last time. You know it.”

“We’ve been best friends for years. I just can’t risk that.” Seungyoun looks down, his fringe hiding his eyes.

And Woohyun could not think of a comeback with Seungyoun looking like he already lost the most precious thing in his life.

“You know, its true what they say about musicians. You are all creative, crazy messes.” Woohyun says with a huge sigh.

Which brings us to the first thing everyone now knows: 1) Seungyoun, for a fact, has slight commitment issues.

A week passes by after the night with Seungyoun. You try your best to avoid him, but he stuck to you like nothing had happened. Sure, it was only the alcohol that made him do it and the reason why he could not remember. But, he should take some sort of responsibility, right?

The day of his date with the girl, you went to a library to study for your classes, but the silence was worse. It only made your sad thoughts louder. Letting out a deep sigh, you run your fingers through your hair and leave the quiet room.

“Hey!” Before you could start walking down the staircase to the lobby, a familiar voice calls your name.

You close your eyes. You knew exactly who it was and he was probably the second person you did not want to run into. Quickly changing your expression into a neutral one, you turn around to him, “Hey, Hangyul.”

Long story, short: You and Hangyul did go on a date. You actually had more fun than you thought and he said he would call you back, but never did. When he did end up calling you for a second date, the two of you still had unfinished business. Seungyoun crashed your second date before the two of you could talk about it.

Hangyul scratches the back of his neck, a habit of his whenever he felt uneasy. Your fake expression was apparent to his eyes, “Do you want to go to a cafe? I hated the silence in that library.”

You said yes and maybe it was the fact you wanted to show up Seungyoun for being on a date. Or, it might have been that you believed Hangyul was a nice, decent guy so he deserved some sort of explanation.

“I just wanted to say sorry for everything.” Hangyul says with a soft smile.

“Sorry about what?” The warm tea hits your throat and it calms your nerves.

“Sorry about not calling you when I said I would.”

You let out a petty laugh, “So you did know.”

Hangyul moves in closer, “Of course, I did. I was just confused and needed time to think.”

You purse your lips, “Well, I’m sorry for taking Seungyoun along on our second date.” You look down at your cup of tea.

Hangyul plays with the straw of his smoothie, unsure of what to say.

“It was a dumb decision.” You add.

“Did something happen?” Hangyul carefully asks.

You shrug, not wanting to think about it, still looking down.

Hangyul takes a deep breath and lowers his head so he was in your peripheral view, “Hey, to be honest, I wasn’t sure if you were actually available.”

You are forced to return his gaze, his face a little closer than a few minutes ago, “What do you mean?”

“I know you don’t have a boyfriend.” Hangyul was now staring at you intently with a soft expression, “But, on our first date, it didn’t seem like you were emotionally available.”

And that’s exactly what everyone thought: 2) No one else was really good enough for you, but him.

The guy with cute dimples? You preferred adorable rabbit teeth. The talented vocalist? A high-toned voice with the duality of IU’s ballads and Flowsik’s rapping was more your genre. The possible future president of the country? How about the person who you trust all your secrets, dreams, and inside jokes with?

As exaggerated as it was, Seungyoun just started to infiltrate your mind with no invitation.

You gulp and slowly nod your head, “Sorry, Hangyul.”

Hangyul feels a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders and he gives you an assuring smile, “We’re good.” He pats the side of your head.

You return his smile, feeling ten times better.

"I’m not sure what happened with you and Seungyoun, but if you want, I’m meeting with him later with the guys. Maybe you want to come?”

Your ears perk up at hearing his name, “Wait, Seungyoun is hanging out with you later?”

“Yeah, Seungyoun and some other people from the Taekwondo club.”

‘What about his date?’ You think. ‘Did that brat lie to me?’ You add. Did you not just have a small monologue on how great he was?

Hangyul calls out your name.

You snap back to reality, “Oh sorry, why don’t you text me the address and I’ll meet you there?”

The night was a little colder when it was predicted to be a warm summer night. Mercury was in retrograde or something along the lines of a pseudoscience explanation. 3) Everyone just knew it was going to be an interesting night.

“You like to hurt your own feelings?” Dohyun scratches his head.

“Masochism. Its called masochism.”

“Yohan, shut it. Don’t teach him that.” Hangyul rubbed his temples.

“Well, at least you’re better off than Seungyoun. He didn’t even give closure. He completely made his whole friendship awkward as hell.”

Hangyul blows out air from his nostrils. He wanted to keep it a secret and was not planning on inviting you to see Seungyoun. It was his chance to ask you out for a third date. But, taking advantage of your vulnerable state was the last thing he wanted to do.

Yohan hands Hangyul his black jacket, “Here, buddy. At least look cool while setting up the two idiots.”

Hangyul turns to Dohyon, “Don’t you dare learn from Yohan.” Hangyul moves closer to whisper in Yohan’s ear, “Yohan thinks he’s some sex god.”

Yohan has an appalled and disgusted look on his face, “A dude grinds on the floor one time and automatically becomes the icon of greasiness.”

Hangyul receives a text message alert and stops their conversation.

soju girl: Hey, I’m already here. My phone’s on vibrate so just text me when you get here! Too loud to take a call :(

“Lets go, idiot three.” Yohan puts his arms around Hangyul.

hangyul: see you soon

You bite down on your bottom lip and pull down on the short black dress that you wished did not sacrifice to cover either your chest or thighs. It was one or the other. You furiously shake your head to get some sense in you, “I need a drink.” Or not.

One drink turned into two, then three, then four and it all went downhill from there. The last sober thought you had was the fact that you could change your social media addiction and put your energy in making a blog about the wonders of alcohol.

“Close her tab.” you hear a voice and the person has reached over the counter. That was weird because you only conditioned yourself to listen to one specific voice through a loud bass of music.

“Oh? Its my best friend, Cho Seungyoun.” your voice slurs and you see he is confused because he can’t hear anything through the music and you made no effort to talk over them music. Seungyoun quickly scans your state and has you wear his oversized bomber jacket. You do not put up a fight while he quickly zips up the jacket. “Am I your date for tonight?” You say with no energy or volume.

Seungyoun gets to eye level with you and smiles, “Lets go.” He mouths.

The unapologetic smile, his eyes that assured you that your were safe, and his eyebrows that drooped in worry made you furious. The alcohol spoke and made the decision for you, “Fuck that.” You push him away and stagger through the dance floor.

And Seungyoun never felt so awkward trying to keep you away from other people on the dance floor while still remaining a sinful centimeter away from you and that miniature piece of fabric people called a dress.

His eyes darted around to catch the glimpses of other people on the dance floor to make sure they knew you were with him. Just when he thought people were getting the hint, a stranger attaches himself behind you.

He quickly snakes his hand around your waist and pulls you into a secure hold, turning your whole body like a tango move.

You continue to shamelessly dance, not giving a two coins because all you could see are the blurry lights, your mind was still buzzed, and whose ever arm was around you felt too good.

No matter how much he tried, there was only one answer to your shenanigans.

If you can’t beat them, join ‘em.

Seungyoun brings you into his chest as close as humanely possible and lays his hands on your hips as you two dance. He can only catch glimpses of your face, but when he did see you through the club lights, the look on your face got to him.

Your eyes were no longer the awake eyes that he could see from a distance away. Your eyes were half-lidded and seductive. Your baby hairs stuck to the side of your face and your cheeks flushed pink.

Then, Seungyoun’s ears were blocked as if he had water stuck in them. Your mouth was moving, but he could not understand what was happening anymore. The loud bass drowns out any reasonable thoughts.

Seungyoun did not drink any alcohol that night.

But, he got the same sweet alcohol on the tip of your tongue and caught the same alcohol buzz.

When Hangyul left the club that night and did not get to see you or Seungyoun, it was already a given: 4) The literal climax of the story that everyone would know of.

By the time you were all partied out and the two of you got to his apartment, the alcohol high wore off, but neither of Seungyoun’s or your hormones did.

The conversation was said through messy kisses, but it went something along the lines of Seungyoun apologizing for being a coward and a liar. Then, you try to say something back, but whatever he was doing down there did not help you form a coherent thought.

It was the climax that happened in Seungyoun’s small studio, both emotionally and physically.

Finally, it was the scene before everything fell into place. At least, as much as reality allowed you to.

“That dress wasn’t going to cover anything.” It was the morning after and you did not wake up glamorously. It was a good thing Seungyoun always saw you like that and nothing about his feelings changed. He laid on the couch and watched you find your stuff that was lost in the hurricane.

“Yeah, but your sweater will.” You quickly slip into it a sweater that he left hanging on his chair and Seungyoun curses in his mind for being weak to the cold.

“Wanna get breakfast?” Seungyoun sits up and also looks around for his lost t-shirt.

“Not like this.”

“I can pick something up from the convenience store.” Seungyoun finally finds his clothing piled up on the side of the couch.

You two only had to be apart for ten minutes, but Seungyoun was running back from the store like he left a stove on.

Also, you had no idea what you were getting yourself into until Seungyoun drops the food on his small desk and starts to make his way towards you. Alert, you hold him back with one finger, which stops him for a grueling second until he picks you up like a bride and lays you down on the couch.

You always thought Seungyoun looked like a rabbit with his two front teeth. Now, he looks like a tiger creeping up on his pray (read: you). You were quickly reminded Seungyoun was actually a bear because he pulls you into a warm hug as the two of you lay on his couch.

“There’s not enough space, so we have to stick as close a possible.” Seungyoun is breathing down your neck and you were not sure if it was on purpose.

You stir in his arms and he looks at you.

The images of you two playing tongue hockey in the middle of the dance floor flashes through your mind and you wanted to dig a tunnel into the couch because this time, he was there to remember it.

Seungyoun bit back a silly smile.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything?” He says with a smirk.

“Hey, we can’t tell anyone.” You are talking to his chest because you could not bear to look at him without being reminded of last night.

“Why not?” Seungyoun, on the other hand, had no shame and kept his eyes on you. “I swear, I was going to post this on my story.”

“Seungyoun!”

He gives you his cheeky, smiling eyes and presses his forehead on yours, “I’m sure every already knows.”

“That’s a little bit T.M.I, no?” You ask him.

“Not with them. They know everything.”

The two of you look at each other both thinking that everyone was weirdly invested in the two of you getting together. You and Seungyoun laugh knowing the same thought went through your head.

“I like you so much.” Seungyoun unconsciously says.

“I like you too.” You say making random shapes with your fingers on his chest. “Hey, um.” You finally muster up the courage to look at him.

“Yeah?” Seungyoun gives you his full attention.

You gather your arms and push him off the couch, “I’m hungry.”

Even if you were not hungry, Seungyoun’s scent was getting to your head and all the red flags went off.

He didn’t have to know that, though.

Months pass and you two are still together and annoying.

“Can you not?” You step on Seungyoun’s foot under the table.

“What?” Seungyoun moves his hand closer to your inner thigh, but you swat his hand off.

“Can you two just stay in Seungyoun’s studio? Forever.” Wooseok pretends to barf.

“We would, but the AC is broken.” Seungyoun shrugs.

You smack him on the side of his head.

“I don’t even want to sit on that damn couch now.” Seungwoo slowly shakes his head.

“Maybe it was better for you two to stay single.” Yohan taps on the table.

“Hey, I’m all for that.” Hangyul chuckles as he opens a bag of chips.

Seungyoun’s neck almost breaks turning to Hangyul, “If you eat chips like that, your fingers are going to stain.”

“Well, I’m gonna eat it with chopsticks.” Hangyul retorts.

“Where are the chopsticks, genius?” Seungyoun mocks Hangyul’s matter-of-fact tone.

Hangyul’s eye darts back and forth, until he sees you slipping him the chopsticks. “Here.”

Seungyoun makes a face at you, “Whose side are you on?”

You give him a chaste kiss and the self-proclaimed all rounder turns into one thing and it was the fifth and last thing everyone knew.

5) “Whipped.”