#that explains why their city is like that

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 5

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 2.7k

Note : I’ve got this queued up so if you asked to be tagged in the last 12 hours, I have not added you but will add you to the next one! It’s my masters graduation ceremony and I have a lot of people to catch up with so won't be very active today. Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

“From Behind Your Eyes”

Monday.

Things began to shift between you and Bucky in subtle ways. 

It started with small moments. Today, during a walk through the city, he asked if you wanted to stop by a bakery. 

“Your favourite," he said with a soft smile.

You blinked at him, caught off guard. You didn’t know it was your favourite bakery—it had only opened a year ago

You had no recollection of it existing, let  alone stepping inside.

Yet, when you stood outside the little shop, taking in the scent of freshly baked bread and buttery pastries, you sighed in recognition. Like your senses were telling you that this was the place, even though your mind was blank. 

Bucky held the door open, letting you step inside. The bell above the door jingled, and that sound struck something deep within you. Was it... loss? Or comfort? You weren’t sure. 

He handed you a croissant without a word. 

When you took your first bite, something clicked. It felt right, the taste, the texture—the buttery flakiness melting on your tongue. It was comforting, familiar, even if the memories that should accompany it weren’t there. 

You couldn’t explain why, but for the first time, a puzzle piece fell into place.

You glanced up at Bucky. His eyes were fixed on you, watching your reaction closely. 

"Good?" he asked, his voice careful, almost too casual.

"Yeah.” You nodded, swallowing the pastry.

It was more than good—it felt like home. Whatever that meant these days.

Wednesday.

The scent of pancakes filled the air on Wednesday morning.

You heard the sound of sizzling batter before seeing Bucky standing over the stove, smiling at you.

"A whole tablespoon of butter and two of maple syrup," he said, placing a plate in front of you. He was busying himself with the last touches, but you could see the concentration in his movements, the care he had put into even something so simple.

You stared down at the plate, your fork hovering just above the fluffy stack. It looked perfect, like it had been made specifically for you, and in a way, it had. You couldn’t remember ever eating this combination of specific measurements before— you always thought you were a cereal eater. But somehow, the moment you took that first bite, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

A comfortable silence settled between you two as you ate.  The pancakes were soft, the butter melting, and the syrup soaked through just enough to make each bite rich but not overwhelming. It was perfect. 

He was perfect.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you watched him out of the corner of your eye. There was something endearing about how well he knew you, even when you didn’t know yourself. 

The more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself drawn to him— not just because he was familiar, but because he made you feel safe. 

And somewhere along the way, that safety began to shift into something else.

Your heart started to skip a beat when he laughed. Your stomach fluttered when he’d touched you. You found yourself looking for more and more excuses to be around him. 

You caught yourself staring at him more than once—like now, as he leaned against the counter, arms crossed. 

Your chest tightening in ways that were starting to feel dangerously familiar. A crush. 

Bucky looked up and caught your gaze, and you quickly focused back on your plate, heat rising to your cheeks. 

Friday.

Today, you were curled up in the living room, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders when he handed you a book. 

"You read this a couple of years ago," he said, his voice soft, almost hesitant. He held out the worn copy of a short book, fingers brushing against the frayed edges. "Thought you might want to read it again."

You took it from him, your eyes skimming the cover. The title stirred nothing at first—just another gap in your mind. 

There was a quiet confidence in the way he handed you the book that maybe, just maybe, this small thing would help. 

As you read, something unlocked within you. The words slipped into place like they belonged.

Like they had always belonged.

Sunday.

By the time you finished, it had become your favourite book once again.

"You knew," you said, feeling a little shy, admitting how easily you'd fallen back in love with it.

Bucky smiled, the kind of smile that reached his eyes, though there was always a hint of something dark behind it. "Some things don’t change."

You wanted to believe him, but you knew better.

The truth was, so much had changed. The pieces of your life felt scattered, rearranged in ways you didn’t always understand. 

Bucky… he was a constant. It was as though he saw parts of you that you hadn’t yet rediscovered.

You noticed it in the quiet moments—the way Bucky would linger in doorways, watching you, or how his voice softened whenever he said your name, like he was holding onto a precious gem. 

You weren’t the person you had been before, and yet, with Bucky, you started to feel like maybe you didn’t have to be. 

Still, there was an unspoken thing that hung between you, something that Bucky carried but never fully acknowledged. 

Monday.

Bucky had trouble sleeping, as he would do when he was under a lot of stress.

He laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He could feel his racing heart, as if it wanted to claw its way out.

In his mind, he replayed the moment that haunted him every night—the words he’d said to you.

“I feel like I can’t breathe around you.”

He had said it with a cold finality, and regretted it immediately.  

He’d only ever driven you away to spare you from the darkness he dragged around like ankle weights. You deserved so much more— someone free from shadows that never seemed to leave.

Even if you’d forgotten, he couldn’t unburden himself from the knowledge that he’d pushed you away when he should have held you close.

And when he did finally fall asleep, nightmares haunted him. 

In the dream, he watched realisation dawning on your face— as you remembered the things he’d said, the hurt he’d caused. You looked at him with that same raw, wounded expression he’d seen before, the same one that haunted him on sleepless nights.

In the dream, you turned away, just as you had before, only this time you were walking into the dark embrace of death. He reached for you, desperate to take it all back, but the distance between you grew. 

He’d run and run, trying to follow you, but at the end of the tunnel, he’d see you limp body lying underneath the rubble.

Bucky’s eyes snapped open. His breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. He laid in bed, trembling, drenched in sweat.

Unable to stay there, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and got up. He found himself heading down the hall toward your room. 

The light in the guest room was dim, the door left slightly ajar, as it always was. You told him it made you feel less alone, that someone was nearby if you needed them.

Bucky found himself standing just outside, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest.

You looked so peaceful, so innocent in sleep, untouched by the memories that plagued him. 

Quietly, he leaned against the doorframe. The words slipped out before he could stop them.

“I feel like I can’t breathe around you,” he whispered.

It was true then, and it was true now—though for different reasons.

Back then, he’d said it to drive you away, to keep you from seeing the broken parts of him he didn’t want you to know. 

But now, every small smile, every lingering glance, every hesitant touch stole his breath, until he was choking on the overwhelming affection he felt for you and on the regret of what he’d said to you.

“I thought I didn’t deserve you.” He swallowed. “I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping you away.” His eyes studied you, memorising every scar, every curve. “But I was wrong. and you’ll never know…”

All he wanted was to tell you the truth, to give you the choice to stay or to go. But the thought of you choosing to go… he couldn’t bear it.

You shifted slightly in your sleep, and Bucky’s heart skipped a bit. For a split second, he thought he’d woken you, but you settled back against your pillow, your cute snores filling the air again. 

He let out a small sigh of relief.

He lingered a moment longer, allowing himself this one selfish moment to simply be there, watching over you.

He stayed for ten minutes.

Ten turned to thirty.

And thirty minutes turned to an hour.   

Then, he started noticing things.

At first, it was subtle— his enhanced hearing noticed that your breathing quickened. He then saw your brows knitting together.

He knew the signs by heart— a nightmare.

His chest tightened as he watched, his metal fingers curling around the doorframe. He wanted to reach out, to wake you before the horrors took hold. But he froze, unsure if his presence would be a comfort or if it would only make things worse.

You whimpered softly, The sound was like a bullet to his brain, slicing through the peace he had found watching over you.

Bucky knew— perhaps too well— all the ways a nightmare could lay you bare, exposing the things you wanted no one else to see. Who was he to interfere, to try drag you out of the darkness when he himself lived in it?

Then you whispered his name. The sound sent a chill down his spine. His name, spoken with a tone so raw and broken it made his heart ache. Were you dreaming of him? Of the words he had said, the pain he had caused?

He didn’t know why he stayed as he watched you wrestle with whatever horrors your mind had conjured. He took a small, shaky step forward. His mouth opened but nothing came out. 

Your breathing grew ragged, your hands clutching at the blanket. Bucky’s fists clenched at his sides, shame brewing inside him. 

He knew he should be there for you, but he couldn't bring himself to cross that threshold, to invade the fragile privacy of your dreams.

Finally, your breathing steadied, the nightmare subsiding. Bucky released a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

He took a step back.

He hadn’t done anything. He hadn’t tried to help.

He watched a second longer, making sure you’d found peaceful sleep again. When he was certain you had, he turned and left for his room.

As he closed his door behind him, Bucky let out a shaky sigh. His body slid on the floor, pressing his palms against his eyes as he tried to block out the image of you—fragile, broken, and alone in a nightmare he might have caused.

He wrapped his hand around his knees, rocking slightly in an attempt to keep himself sane.

He shifted slightly, feeling an odd dampness against his skin. It was only when he brought a hand to his face that he realised his cheeks were wet, his shirt damp where the tears had dropped. 

He hadn't even realised he started crying.

The tears kept coming, slow and steady, trickling down on his face.

He thought of you, peaceful again now, but still vulnerable, left to face nightmares he was too afraid to pull you from. He thought of the words he’d spoken to you, the ones he could never take back. The ones that had hurt you more than he’d ever wanted. 

The tears were relentless, a silent admission of all the things he’d buried—his regret, his self-loathing, his desperation for forgiveness he was too afraid to ask for. His body shook with quiet sobs, his breaths shallow and uneven.

And for the first time since he thought he’d lost you, Bucky let himself cry for everything he’d lost. 

For the moments he’d missed, the chances he’d thrown away, the love he’d pushed aside out of fear. And as his tears finally slowed, leaving him a hollow shell of himself, he realised that this was the price he’d paid for pushing you away all those years.

Tuesday.

“Do you ever have nightmares?” you asked between breakfast bites, trying to sound casual as you picked at your food.

You didn’t know how to admit it at first, but even when you slept through all of last night, you hadn’t slept very well. Every time you’d close your eyes, you’d find yourself trapped under layers of crushing weight, and the fear would trap you in unconsciousness, unable to wake up, unable to separate what’s real or fake.

Bucky paused just slightly before he looked up. For a moment, he didn’t know how much to say.

“Yeah,” he replied finally, cautiously. “It used to be worse.” 

You nodded, encouraged by his honesty. “Mine are… strange. They’re just pieces. I don't remember them all.” You looked down at your hands, unsure how to continue. “It doesn’t even feel like they’re mine.”

“How come?” He asked, narrowing his eyes.

“It’s… I—I feel like I’m trapped under something heavy. I can’t breathe, and when I try to move, it just…”

You stopped in your tracks, the nightmares slipping away just as your memory had. 

“And I see you sometimes,” you admitted sheepishly, “I feel you pulling me out of the dark.”

Bucky’s hand brushed yours across the table. 

He swallowed hard, knowing that was where he found you. How he found you. Crushed under the rubble, barely alive.

Still, a wave of relief washed over him. If there was any comfort to cling to in all of this, it was that he hadn’t caused your nightmares. You hadn’t heard his quiet confession from the night before, those fragile words spoken in the darkness while you slept. You didn’t know.

You didn’t know what he said.

You didn’t know. 

You can’t ever know.

A twisting guilt formed in his stomach— would I really rather have her dream of a crushing pain over the painful words I said?

“They can’t hurt you,” he said finally, his voice stern with conviction. He was convincing himself, really, more than you. 

You felt the cold of his metal hand, but your cheeks started burning. 

You met his eyes, and for a moment, the vulnerability between you was tangible.

“Thank you, Bucky.” Your voice was barely a whisper. “For making me feel like I’m not alone.”

He looked down. A small, shy smile tugged at his lips. “Anytime.”

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. His hand lingered on yours, fingers tracing small circles against your skin. 

You didn’t even realise you were leaning in until you felt his breath against your lips—warm, shallow, like he was fighting the same internal battle you were. His eyes flicked down to your mouth for the briefest second.

The pull between you was magnetic.

His fingers trailed up your arm, lingering at your forearm, and it was that touch—the coolness of his skin against tour veins—that undid you. Your breath hitched, your heart pounding so hard you thought it might burst from your chest. 

And then, without thinking, you started closing the gap.

His lips hovered over yours, not quite touching, the tension so thick it was suffocating.

It was a heartbeat away. 

But then—

The sound of your phone shattered the moment, vibrating against the table.

Sam’s name flashed on the screen, his timing almost painfully ironic.

“Hey,” you answered, forcing your voice to stay steady.

“Hey!” Sam was his usual chipper self, oblivious to what he’d interrupted. “We’re discussing a training program for you if you want to come back on Thursday?”

You glanced at Bucky. He had turned away slightly, focusing on his half-eaten plate. “I— I’ll think about it,” you replied, feeling a pang of disappointment as you hung up.

You glanced at Bucky, wondering if he felt the same strange disconnect.

He didn’t say anything. His expression had shifted back to that neutral calm he so often wore.

You wished you had the courage to say something, that you could break the silence and address what had nearly happened between you. 

You were too unsure, too awkward to bring it up. You weren’t sure what it even meant—whether it was a lapse in judgement, a moment of weakness, or if it was something more that neither of you were brave enough to confront.

“I think I’m gonna start training again on Thursday.”

-to be continued...

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[yanmuffins]

I like to think Perry is friends with superman. And superman knows readers pet cause he's seen him at Wayne manor but out of respect for being one of the few to out smart lex says nothing about the pets escapades to the Wayne's. Like Clark is just like oh "hey Perry how are ya" and bruce is like "how do you know my kids pet?" "Uhhhhh Jon told me?"

On the other hand Clark has no idea why Perry likes to be treated as a pet despite being a full on super hero. Then he sees how sweetly reader treats Perry and understands that the secret agent just wants some love.

Also another funny thing that would be interesting is if reader had no idea thier family is a bunch of vigilantes. So then it seems like both have their secrets, but much like Phineas, reader isn't trying to hide anything meanwhile batfam is explaining every weird vigilante thing they do.

context &. context &. context.

this is so cute!!!!! ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*｡

clark thinks it's such a happy coincidence. his platypus-secret-agent-also-league-member-coworker just so happens to live with batman's kid, same one whom jon is always going on and on about. the stories his son tells appear too fantastical to be true, but he witnessess it firsthand and is honestly impressed.

he's very natural about it, though. he sees reader, jon and damian building a tower to the moon he just waves at the three of them, telling them to be safe and for jon to be home before dinner. not really sure if he assumes batman knows of his kid's inventions or if he deliberately chooses not to tell him, though.

you are so right about reader not knowing about their family being vigilantes, btw. they kinda give up on making the family try to like them and become very much focused in their own little world, adapting to a new city, doing well in school, keeping in touch with their old friends in metropolis and making new ones in gotham, and ofc enjoying summer to the fullest. that, and with reader being a little oblivious, the little clues that could have made them realize they're living in batman's house go right over their head.

they're very confused when they come across something that is suspicious (in the bafam's eyes) but incospicuous to them, while one of the batfam tries to come up with an excuse. reader just shrugs and leaves. what they do know is that this house is full of weirdoes.

[darkmatilda]

╰┈➤ the pumpkin reaper

part 2: second day of investigation

part 1 here!

in which you and the bau are handling the case of a murderer in a small, sleepy town

tw: decapitation, description of the crime scene etc, mention of a suicide attempt, mental illness

contents: spencer reid x fem!baureader, solving a criminal mystery, angst, slow burn

words: 7.3k

okay, i realize how incredibly long this is but that's just how i am, i have to stretch every scene to the limits. i'm sorry!!!" anyway, i hope you'll enjoy it <3

You were pulled out of bed at five in the morning.

 Just three hours after you’d finally managed to fall into a light, broken sleep. Maybe you hadn’t really been sleeping at all — just lying there with your eyes closed, half-aware? You weren’t sure. The exhaustion weighing on you suggested the latter. Yet you didn’t complain. As soon as you learned that another body had been found in that same cursed forest, it felt like you’d been plunged into an ice-cold bath. All that mattered now was reaching the crime scene as quickly as possible.

You and Spencer ended up in the same car with Hotch and Rossi. Although the drive took almost half an hour, it passed in the blink of an eye. None of you spoke; the tension was evident on each of your faces. You’d dressed more comfortably than the day before, opting for navy jeans and sturdier shoes better suited for walking in the forest. In the rush, you hadn’t changed out of your pajama shirt — you’d simply thrown on a black leather coat over it. You buttoned it up carefully so no one would notice the shirt featuring a duck holding a knife with the caption I have stability (ability to stab), easily the worst possible choice of clothes for examining a murder scene.

The next steps proceeded in a typical, meticulous way. Everything around was secured, and you examined the body, which was roughly in the same state of decomposition as the bodies of the city council members. The inflicted wounds also appeared to be similar. There was a missing head, but aside from that, there were relatively few injuries.

At sunrise, the whole team gathered near the cars. Derek leaned against one of them, and you all had sleepy, slightly puffy faces with dark circles under your eyes. JJ looked so good and put together that you found yourself wondering if she went to sleep fully dressed in her professional attire.

“The victim is a man with an unidentified identity, but there is a strong likelihood that this is the missing city councilman, Percy Donovan, who disappeared in the last few weeks.”  Hotch informed you all. “This trio of women, who were treated the most brutally, were the earliest victims, lying in this forest for about six weeks. The one found last night was likely killed around the same time as the other two city council members. It’s unclear why his body was left in a different location, but considering the relatively short distance, it might have been a matter of convenience for the perpetrator. He was unable to transport all three bodies at once, so he delivered the last one after some time. He discarded it closer to the road but concealed it more carefully. The time of their death is estimated to be around three weeks ago”

“Let’s analyze everything from the beginning,” Rossi suggested, raising both hands. “The unsub’s first victims were killed six weeks ago. They were three women: a teacher, a social worker, and…”

“A worker from the orphanage,” Reid recalled. 

“Then there’s a three-week gap, and three more bodies are hidden in the forest. This time, there were two men and one woman, all of whom were city council members. The only connection between all six victims is that their heads were severed. Don’t you think we might be dealing with a duo? That would explain the differences in brutality.”

“That’s one possibility,” Hotch agreed. “I asked Garcia to check for criminals or psychiatric patients who have been released recently, but she didn’t find anything noteworthy.”

The sheriff approached you, the same big man you’d seen before. Shock was written on his face; as a cop in such a small town, he likely rarely dealt with cases like this.

“I knew Percy,” he shared immediately. “I knew him very well. We sometimes went out to the bar together to play pool. He had some problems in his marriage; they often argued. When he disappeared, I thought he had just left because he needed some space…”

“We’re very sorry,” JJ said gently. “Yesterday, you mentioned that you know a lot about the people in this town. Could you provide us with more information about the victims? We’re trying to find any connections, if there are any.”

Before they stepped aside to discuss this, Reid raised a finger.

“Sheriff, do you think the offender had to know this forest well to choose to hide the bodies here? In these specific locations?”

Russell pondered the question.

“I don’t think so. In my opinion, it could have been anyone, and they didn’t necessarily have to be from here. I doubt he comes from this town; as I said, it’s mostly decent people.”

JJ led him a few steps away to begin their discussion. You and the rest of the team fell silent for a moment.

“One thing worries me,” Morgan said, furrowing his brow. “Okay, a lot of things worry me, but this one particularly. If there was roughly a three-week gap between the murders of these two groups of people, and the last bodies were found just three weeks ago…”

“That means the unsub could strike again at any moment,” you finished his thought, nervously clenching your hands into fists.

Everyone turned to look at you; you had just voiced a shared concern. Hotch stared into space for a moment, then nodded to himself as if coming to a decision. He spoke in his usual commanding tone.

“We need to take action. Morgan and Prentiss, you’ll meet with the families of the first three victims, the women, I mean. Rossi, you and JJ will go to the families of the other victims. Your job is to find out if there’s anything that could connect them. Y/N and Reid, your task will be to go to the forester’s lodge and gather information on whether anyone has encountered any suspicious individuals in this forest. I’ll head to the city hall to talk to the mayor.”

Everyone scattered, ready to tackle their tasks. You nodded at Reid and together you headed towards one of the cars, where you hesitated.

“Do you have a map of this town, or will we need to ask the sheriff where the ranger station is?” you asked, glancing back at the man still talking to JJ.

“I left it at the hotel, but it just so happens that I memorized the whole thing, so I know where we need to go. It’s not far at all.”

Your eyebrows shot up.

“You memorized the entire map?”

“I always do that when we’re working a case in an unfamiliar place,” he explained, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Memorizing an entire map, with all the roads and landmarks. Just an everyday activity.

You snorted and got into the car, an unmarked police vehicle, on the passenger side.

“We'll have to stop at a gas station,” you said, fastening your seatbelt.

“Why? The tank’s almost full.”

“Coffee.”

He opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it. You glanced at his profile as he, focused on driving, pulled off the shoulder onto the road, choosing a direction.

“You couldn’t sleep last night, huh?” 

You shrugged. You didn’t want to get into the backstory of your sleep issues with him, so you decided on a slightly embellished answer.

“I couldn’t fall asleep for a bit; it’s usually like that in new places. But then I slept like a baby, really. At least until Hotch woke us with that call before 5 a.m.”

“No, you didn’t. I woke up a few times, and your breathing suggested you weren’t sleeping. It was too shallow and irregular. Normally, when someone’s asleep, it looks different because their breathing engages the diaphragm muscles.”

Did he really just analyze your breathing and deduce you hadn’t been sleeping? You looked out the window, momentarily at a loss for words, before deciding to turn it into a joke.

“Reid, this is the creepiest thing I’ve heard in a while.”

“Really? It’s just basic human physiology. So, back to my question, which you decided to turn into a joke to avoid answering”

“Jesus Christ, Holy Mother of God, yes, I couldn’t sleep because I forgot my sleeping pills,  and I can’t get a wink without them. What’s it to you?”

Your outburst of irritation caught him off guard. You immediately regretted your unpleasant tone; he had always been so kind to you. Reid paused for a moment, cleared his throat, and calmly returned to the topic. 

“I figured that out after you were so upset last night. When you told me you forgot something. You know, you could have just asked me or someone else on the team. It just so happens that I always have Ambien on me. I don’t need it anymore, but I carry it just in case.”

You fell silent, not knowing how to respond. You felt doubly embarrassed, especially since his initial question wasn’t even attacking! It was just that you had been so closed off, pushing that barrier further and further away whenever someone showed even a hint of concern for you.

The car glided along the empty road, one of those that seemed to stretch on forever. Like an endlessly long carpet with a white stripe down the middle, unfurling as you drove. Surrounding it was the forest—the same one where you sought refuge yesterday to avoid answering Prentiss’s question about your brother. Your reticence was becoming burdensome, but you didn’t know how to deal with it. When you opened up, you felt vulnerable, as if you were at the mercy of someone else. You also hated pity. Your mom loved it. She relished the chance to burden random people waiting at the same bus stop with tales of how her husband didn’t love her and how her kids hated her, even though none of that was true. Talking to someone about yourself made you feel just like her.

As you drifted off in thought, filled with a sense of guilt, Reid spoke up again.

“I’ve noticed recently...”

He barely began the sentence before he cut it off. He didn’t continue, as if the wind had slipped in through the slightly open window, snatched his words, and whisked them away to some unknown place, never to return.

“What have you noticed?” you asked.

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter,” he replied, shaking his head.

“You can say it, whatever it is. I won’t be offended.”

Deep down, you were afraid his comment would hurt. Maybe he’d say, “Your inability to open up is just pathetic. And it’s not just me; the whole team thinks so. Though honestly, it’s probably better that you don’t say anything. None of us want to hear about it.” Just the thought of him saying something like that tightened your chest, and you went pale. It was a stark reminder of how much you feared what others thought of you. You knew Spencer would never say something like that—he might not always be socially adept, but cruel comments were not in his nature. What scared you more was the possibility that he could think that way about you. You were terrified that it might be true.

Meanwhile, Reid asked:

 “Do you like autumn?”

You let out a surprised laugh. “That’s what you’ve noticed lately? That I like autumn?”

“No,” he replied. “I’m asking if you like autumn.”

Your confusion left you momentarily speechless. You looked at him as if he were a math teacher back in school trying for the third time to explain what a logarithm actually was. That question distracted you from your earlier, unpleasant thoughts.

Looking at his slight smile, you answered. 

“I’m not a fan. I hate it, actually”

“Really?” 

“I don’t know why people love it so much. It’s cold, it makes our work harder. It rains, and you've seen the extent of decay those bodies had because of it. Again, it’s cold”

It seemed that your arguments didn’t resonate with Reid.

“You’re looking at it from a very practical standpoint. For our line of work, I agree, autumn can be terrible. But there’s something enchanting about it. The leaves. Reading in the evening while it’s raining outside is particularly enjoyable.”

“I personally prefer reading in the bright sun, on the beach, soaking up the rays. Without the risk of my hand falling off from the cold as soon as I pull it out from under the blanket to turn the page.”

He laughed.

“In less than twenty-four hours, I’ve learned more about you than I have in the past year,” he said. “That you have a brother, you definitely prefer summer over autumn, and you love Haruki Murakami’s books.”

“That’s all because we’re roommates now.”Wait, I’ve never told you I like Haruki Murakami!”

“I saw you reading his book yesterday. Kafka on the Shore.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I like him.”

“You read more than half of that book on the flight, hardly taking your eyes off it. You only paused when your brother called you. You were completely mesmerized, so I’m guessing you must’ve liked it.”

He was right; you had been completely absorbed in that novel. So much so that you didn’t even realize he had been watching you on the plane. Seizing the opportunity, you asked him for his interpretation of a certain part of the plot that seemed unclear to you. For the rest of the flight, you listened intently as he passionately shared his thoughts, surprised that someone could talk about a book with such enthusiasm.

The smiles faded from your faces as the car suddenly jolted. Concerned, you looked around for the cause and quickly figured out what had happened. Reid had veered off the main road and onto a forest path leading to a cabin. Due to the rain, it had turned into a muddy mess, making it difficult for the car’s wheels, ill-suited for such terrain, to push through.

“How much further it is?” you asked. ““Maybe it’d be better if we walked from here. We don’t want the car to get stuck” 

Spencer agreed with your suggestion. Your shoes sank into the mud as soon as you touched the ground. The weather that day was better than before; a gray layer of clouds hung overhead, but it wasn’t raining. The air around you felt pleasantly crisp and invigorating. You took a deep breath that tasted wonderful, energizing like coffee. Your companion cursed softly under his breath as his feet began to slip on the troublesome surface as well.

“So, do you still like autumn that much?” you couldn’t help but ask teasingly.

“I love it,” he assured you, in an exaggeratedly eager tone. But after taking just one step, he nearly fell over. “God dammit…!”

You burst into loud laughter and confidently moved ahead. You’d learned your lesson from the previous day and put on more comfortable shoes, which you were very grateful for. The ones you were wearing not only repelled water but also minimized the risk of tasting the mud.

There was just a straight path leading to the cabin, and after a moment, you spotted a wooden, wide building with a sloped roof on the horizon. It looked rugged, not like one of those places city folks rented for the weekend to feel connected to nature.

As you walked, you didn’t turn back, busy looking around. Behind you, Reid was probably struggling for his life on the slippery path.

You reached the cabin first. Instead of knocking right away, you decided to wait for your companion. Just as you were about to turn around and shout some motivating phrase to him, the door swung open on its own.

You came face to face with a young man who had a military hairstyle. It was worth noting that he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

He looked you up and down, nodding to himself.

“Lost, are you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Or maybe it was just your imagination, but he seemed to be trying to adopt a slightly flirtatious tone. Behind him, from inside the house, a loud barking could be heard. “Ares, quiet!”

By the time he turned back to you, Reid had already caught up and pulled his badge from his pocket.

“We’re with the FBI, and we’d like to ask a few questions.”

“Alright, so you’re definitely not lost… But hang on a sec, let me see your badge too. You’re way too young to be in the FBI,” he said, eyeing Reid as well. “You both look too young.”

“And yet,” you replied, patiently reaching for your badge.

He nodded and held the door open for you with a slight flourish. He didn’t seem the least bit fazed that the FBI had shown up on his doorstep. You wondered if he’d act differently if, instead of you two, it had been Hotch and Morgan paying him a visit.

“Take it easy,” he said, nodding to the Doberman at his side. “He’s aggressive, I won’t lie. But as long as you don’t make any sudden moves, we should be good. Ares, off you go.”

Reid glanced at you with amusement, and the corners of your mouth twitched. The ranger’s doberman was… a puppy. Tiny, tail wagging eagerly, clearly thrilled to see you both.

"Are you here alone?" you asked, looking around for any sign of others. From what you knew, there were usually a few rangers stationed together.

"Yeah, I’m the only one responsible for this whole area." he replied, folding his arms over his hips, where his loose pants hung low. He hadn’t even bothered to put on a shirt.

He had this strange ability to take up way more space than his body actually needed, standing with his legs planted wide apart. He also tried to look down on everyone around him—though it didn’t quite work, since Reid was taller than him.

"We’re here to ask you a few questions," Reid informed him once again.

"I heard you the first time"

You definitely didn’t like the tone of his voice. The unpleasantness of it made him far less attractive in your eyes. That was just how you were; you were drawn to well-mannered men who didn’t feel the need to assert their masculinity at every turn.

"This is related to a six-fold murder, so I'd advise you to tone it down a bit when talking to the FBI” 

Reid's sharper tone created an immediate tension between the two of them. The ranger tilted his head to the side, his shoulders suddenly drooping.

“Wait, sixfold?”

The information about the last body found had not yet been made public, though it was surely only a matter of time. The sheriff seemed like a complete gossip.

"It was found last night, so be aware that this case is extremely serious. We need to know if you’ve encountered anyone suspicious while patrolling this area in the past six weeks. Actually, it would be best if you could list everyone you remember."

"Actually, it might be better if you asked for my name first. It’ll come in handy for the report."

"Oh, right." His comment threw you off your rhythm. You should have done that first. He smiled at you, and you felt a slight blush rise to your cheeks. It wasn't because of his charm but rather from being caught in an unprofessional moment.

That was enough for Reid to look at you with a judging expression.

His phone suddenly rang.

“It's Hotch,” he said, furrowing his brows. He briefly touched your elbow, and his gaze softened significantly compared to how he had been speaking to the ranger. “Can you handle this? It shouldn't take long.”

You nodded, and he stepped aside to take the call. The ranger extended his hand as if he was just welcoming you to his home.

By the way, the cabin seemed quite cozy, mainly with wooden furniture, a fireplace, and a fur rug. Two sets of doors led out of the main room, one to an open kitchen and the other presumably to a bathroom or bedroom. His dog happily circled around your legs, and you bent down to gently pet him.

“Do you want to sit down, agent? I thought you came here on foot.”

“I’ll stand. The car didn’t quite handle the road. We left it nearby.”

“Yeah, that happens a lot, especially after the rain. There’s no way a typical patrol car could get through that. But anyway, I’m James Rivas. What did you want to ask me? Who caught my attention over the past six weeks?”

He sighed, thinking.

“That’s a really tough question, considering I often forget and feed the dog twice in the same morning. But I do remember a few people. First of all, there was a certain couple…”

“A couple? Two men? Or maybe a woman and a man? Did they seem nervous when they saw you?”

“A couple, as in a guy and a girl. Now that I think about it, she looked about twelve, probably his daughter.”

Your enthusiasm waned a bit. One of your theories was that the murders were committed by a duo, but the people he described didn’t sound like the perpetrators of such acts at all. He mentioned a few more people, mostly dog walkers, who caught his attention for trivial reasons like a flashy scarf or a pretty face (when he spoke about a woman). Even though the information didn’t seem particularly useful at first glance, you wrote it down in the small notebook you had brought with you.

Who knows, it might come in handy?

Reid returned with a serious expression on his face. You immediately straightened up, fearing what he might say.

“Another body has been found.”

“What?” you nearly shouted. The ranger also tensed up, abandoning his relaxed, flirtatious attitude. “Seventh? Where?”

“At a pumpkin farm. Apparently, some teenagers stumbled upon it; there were a lot of people at the scene, and a little panic broke out. Hotch wants us all there. Have you finished?” He glanced at you and James.

You raised your notepad and nodded. The skin on your hands paled from how tightly you were gripping the item.

Together, you started toward the door. You wanted to turn to the ranger and thank him for his help, as it hadn't been as difficult to cooperate with him as you might have thought. At that moment, he stopped you from leaving with a hand gesture.

"To the pumpkin farm? You'll get there faster through the woods than on the main road, but your car won't make it there. I'll give you a ride in my SUV."

You looked questioningly at Reid. You were both eager to get to the scene of the body as quickly as possible. The offer sounded tempting, but not entirely safe. He immediately shook his head in refusal.

"We'll manage," he said to James.

"Seriously, come on," the man insisted.

Reid opened his mouth to refuse again when James suddenly stepped closer to you, reaching for something in his pants pocket. You took a step back, having learned from experience, while your friend moved one step forward in a defensive gesture.

However, the ranger had no bad intentions — it turned out he was going to hand you the car keys.

"You can drive," he said. He closed the keys in your fingers as if offering you some precious item, grabbing you with both hands in the process. You were in too much of a hurry to flinch. You nodded gratefully. He smiled. "Actually, you have to, I just drank a beer. Plus, I’m coming with you; someone has to navigate, and who better to do it than me?”

You agreed, and Reid sighed, clearly unhappy with how things were turning out. James hurriedly grabbed a shirt and led you behind the house, where his black Jeep Wrangler was parked.

Following his lead, you settled into the driver's seat, though it stressed you out a bit. Since getting your driver's license, you hadn't had many opportunities to drive; you preferred the subway or, lately, relying on Prentiss's kindness.

“Don’t worry,” the ranger laughed as you hesitantly set off in the direction he indicated. “Now…”

“Turn left,” they both said at the same time.

James looked surprised at Reid, who was sitting right behind you in the back seat.

“How do you know that?”

“I memorized the entire map of this town and the surrounding area,” Reid replied with a shrug.

“You did…what?”

You and Reid smiled at each other in the front mirror.

The mentioned farm resembled a place straight out of an autumn photoshoot, where a pregnant woman embraces her partner against a backdrop of pumpkins arranged on hay bales or something like that. People came to this place from bigger cities, buying overpriced tickets and spending the whole afternoon strolling among rural decorations and props, soaking in the small-town atmosphere. From what you learned from the forest ranger, they also had horses there.

You got out of the car as soon as you spotted Hotch standing by a table made of red planks. There was no sign of anyone else from your team around, so you assumed that thanks to the shortcut, you had arrived there first. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of the sheriff’s car, several patrol cars, and a group of shaken people who must have made that traumatic discovery.

Among them was a certain teenage girl. You looked at her with pity; she would likely remember this for the rest of her life. The forest ranger walked off to speak with the sheriff, while you and Reid headed toward your boss.

“Good thing you got here so quickly,” he said, eyeing the black jeep warily. However, he didn’t ask any questions, likely too absorbed in the case to think about it. “They were found… just see for yourselves.”

You exchanged a worried glance with Spencer. Hearing such words, you could expect the worst. You held your breath and allowed yourself to be led to two pumpkins placed in a secluded spot next to the barn. All the others you passed were huge, perfectly shaped, and brightly colored. But in these two specific ones, holes had been made, as if someone wanted to place a lantern inside. Instead of candles, however, there were… human heads inside.

“Oh my God…” you whispered, taking a step back. You bumped into Reid, and dazed, you mumbled some apologies. However, your gaze remained fixed on Hotch. “Did… did this young girl find this?

He nodded. It was only after a moment that you felt a hand gently placed on your shoulder. You looked up to see Spencer’s face.

“Were the other parts of their bodies found?”

“Only the heads,” your boss replied in an unreadable tone. “Y/n, I’d like you to talk to this girl Not interrogate her, just talk.”

Despite being shaken, you nodded eagerly. You had always considered yourself one of the more sensitive ones in this field, better suited for making deep psychological analyses based on the childhood or life experiences of an unsub rather than the crime itself. Still, you had no choice but to deal with such sights daily; you had toughened up a bit, which couldn’t be said for this girl. You shook off the tension in your body, put on a composed expression, and made your way toward her. The people surrounding them, including the farm workers, stepped aside to let you pass.

“Hey,” you said as gently as you could. She was a blonde girl with such delicate beauty that she reminded you of a snowflake. Her bright eyelashes framed her cool-colored eyes, her pale complexion was almost flawless, and her light hair was braided. She looked to be about sixteen, wearing a white jacket and a powder-blue beret. “I’m Y/n. Can we step aside for a moment? We can sit down and wait for your parents to arrive…”

“I am her parent,” the sheriff replied, pointing to himself with his thumb, as if he thought you might have trouble understanding. It surprised you slightly. They looked completely different; he was huge with dark hair, while she was also very tall but petit. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that JJ and Rossi had already arrived at the scene.

“Well, I still think your daughter should sit down for a moment. She’s very pale and has been through a huge shock. What’s your name?” you asked her.

Her lower lip trembled, she opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

"Charlotte," her father replied. "I need to talk to her myself first. What are you doing here at this hour? It’s barely noon, you should be in school. Skipping classes?!"

"What does that matter right now?" you snapped at him, angry at his lack of empathy towards his own daughter. Charlotte gave you a grateful look. You looked your boss in the eyes. "Now we’re both leaving, and you can think about whether that’s the right tone to use with someone who’s seen something like that..."

True to your words, you led her aside, wrapping your arm around her. You managed to find a secluded spot and sat down on one of the hay bales.

"My dad is pretty strict," the girl explained. "He cares more about my school than about me."

"My dad was exactly the same," you said, though it wasn’t true. Your father didn’t care about you or your education. He didn’t care about anything except work. You lied to make the girl feel like you understood her situation. “But school is the last thing you should be worrying about right now. How are you feeling?”

She shrugged. She had been sitting for about five minutes, and the color was slowly returning to her face.

“I’m… in shock. When I close my eyes, I see it right away, and… and I’m even afraid to blink. How can someone do something like that to another person?”

"I keep asking myself that question," you admitted.

"You're with the FBI, right?"

You nodded. Charlotte fell silent, staring at her hands.

"My dad’s right, I should be in school right now. I came here because I paint. I’m currently working on autumn-themed paintings for a school competition; I needed some inspiration..." The girl sobbed, the horrible sight must have flashed before her eyes.

You put your arm around her, and to distract her from it all, you asked about her passion, painting. She spoke to you in a quiet tone, telling you that she took up art after her mother’s death.

“After that, Dad shut himself off. He’s obsessed with rules, grades, my behavior, school attendance,” she scoffed, playing with her braid. “But he doesn’t even try to understand me, ever. The only person who understands me is…”

She trailed off, looking nervous.

“Someone special?” you suggested with a smile.

She shyly lifted the corners of her mouth.

“You could say that. Just don’t mention it to my dad…”

You made a key-turning gesture near your lips.

“Your secret is safe with me. Well, as long as you tell me a little about this Romeo of yours…”

The topic clearly cheered her up; she seemed less shaken.

“There’s not much to say. Dad would hate him. He’s his complete opposite.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, he is very different about the rules…”

This worried you. She seemed like such a polite, well-behaved girl, and you hoped she hadn’t fallen into the wrong crowd. You didn’t want to judge based on such limited information, but your intuition was speaking up again…

You were interrupted by Morgan’s arrival, calling you over for the team meeting. You said goodbye to Charlotte.

“If you need to talk about all this, I’ll be in town for the next few days,” you said, gently patting her shoulder. After a moment’s hesitation, you reached into your coat pocket for a notepad and quickly jotted down your phone number. You folded the note in half and offered it to the girl. You felt you had to show her some support, something she wouldn’t find from her parents. 

 Charlotte smiled at you with genuine gratitude — she seemed really nice, and you regretted that she had to see something like that. 

Arriving at the meeting point, you experienced a sudden shift in atmosphere, from light to serious and tense. You stood between Reid and Prentiss, waiting for what Hotch had to say.

Spencer glanced at you briefly, his eyes gentle, silently asking if everything was okay. You confirmed without words as well. This silent conversation felt almost amusing; without speaking, you both knew exactly what the other intended to say.

Emily's thin eyebrow shot up, but before she could say anything, Hotch spoke up.

“Morgan and Rossi are questioning the farm owner and the workers. They seem unhappy about the police presence, especially the FBI.”

You found it doubtful that these people had anything to do with the murders. Did they really risk hiding their heads at their workplace? In a movie — maybe. In reality—certainly not. And what could their motive be?

“JJ, we’ll need to issue a statement. Journalists are starting to gather, and we don’t want them spreading any misinformation. It’s important that we don’t give our unsub any nicknames. What did you learn from the victims’ families?”

One by one, everyone gave a brief report. You listened with bated breath, hoping for some vital information, but unfortunately, none of your team had discovered anything that could move the case forward. Finally, you summarized the ranger's testimony.

Prentiss looked like she was holding back an explosion. 

“What is all this about?” she finally burst out, throwing her hands up. “Why has the killer, or killers, suddenly changed the location where they’re dumping bodies?”

“Theoretically, we don’t know if they have,” Reid said. “Only heads were found on the farm; we don’t know what happened to the rest. Searches of the forest have just begun.”

“In any case, what’s the point of this charade? Does it thrill them to think they’re inflicting lifelong trauma on some random person?”

“Hotch, what’s next?” you asked, feeling a void in your mind.

“We’ll finish questioning the owner and his workers. Garcia is checking them out now. After that, we’ll wait for the identification of the newly found victims. Without that information, we can’t move forward. “

Your least favorite part of working on a case had arrived—idleness and waiting. Usually, that was when all your adrenaline would drain away, and your suppressed needs would strike back with double force. You were hungry, tired, had a headache, and needed a second coffee. Leaning your head back, exhausted, you suddenly felt someone watching you. The ranger was staring at you, leaning against the hood of his jeep. You signaled Spencer with a nod, and together, you approached him without much enthusiasm. You needed to head back to the ranger's cabin to retrieve the car you’d left there.

“Sick, isn’t it?” James asked, nodding toward the whole farm. “I can’t wrap my head around it. We’re heading back to mine now, right?”

“Just to pick up the car. I have one last question for you.”

You looked at your friend with curiosity, noticing a strange expression on his face, as if he’d suddenly connected some dots.

“In your opinion, as a ranger, would the killer need to know this forest well to dispose of the bodies in these specific locations?”

James hesitated before answering, looking Reid directly in the eye.

“Yes. I think so. It had to be someone who spends a lot of time here. This forest is huge — an outsider wouldn’t go that deep.”

Reid studied him closely. You frowned and walked back to the car. The three of you drove to the ranger’s cabin in complete silence. Fortunately, the police car was still parked exactly where you had left it.

“Will you drive?” Spencer asked, pulling his phone from his pocket. “I need to make a call.”

“Sure,” you replied, taking the keys from him. You got behind the wheel, casting him a curious sidelong glance, intrigued by what he was up to.

“Garcia? Have you finished checking out the farm owner and employees? Okay, but when you're done, could you also check someone out for me?” Spencer pulled the phone away from his ear, looking at you with a questioning expression. “What was the ranger’s last name?”

“You’re kidding,” you snorted. “James Rivas, but…”

“James Rivas,” he relayed to Penelope, gave her a quick goodbye, and ended the call.

Meanwhile, you had already merged onto the main road.

“Reid, it’s not him.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Intuition? Shaman, remember?”

“Well, your intuition isn’t exactly a reliable measure. It’s pretty easy to influence—by, say, sympathy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Sympathy? The guy’s a jerk, even my intuition can tell.”

Your explanation didn’t seem to convince him at all. You stared at the road for a moment, tapping your nails on the steering wheel. Reid crossed his arms, avoiding looking in your direction. The ranger had clearly gotten under his skin. You hadn’t liked him either, but even so, you thought suspecting him was a waste of time. You weren’t even sure why. You were slowly beginning to form a possible image, a profile of this killer in your mind. It wasn’t worthy of being voiced ye t— too sparse and vague, even to you, with many essential pieces still missing. But it definitely didn’t fit James. Chaotic, you realized that much.

“Do you think if he were our unsub, he would have just answered your question like that? About whether the perpetrator had to know the forest? That alone made him a suspect!”

“His ego wouldn’t let him answer otherwise,” he scoffed at first, then turned serious. “Did you see his reaction when I mentioned finding the seventh body? He tensed up, like he was spooked.”

“Well, I was spooked too. We’ve got a seven-time murderer, a decapitator, on the loose.”

He sighed in resignation, seemingly deciding there was no point arguing with you about it. As you drove, you wondered if you should outright clarify that you weren’t defending James because you liked him or, heaven forbid, found him attractive. But surely Reid didn’t actually think that… right? Then again, you could never be certain what was going on in his mind. It was vast and complex, with thousands of branches reaching off in completely different directions. Impossible to decipher.

You drove in silence, sighing back and forth every so often, as if hoping that these pitiful sounds would eventually prompt the other to speak up or change the subject. At the gas station, he stepped out of the car, and you asked him to get you the largest coffee they had. When he returned, he surprised you by silently handing you a sandwich as well, reminding you just how hungry you actually were.

The rest of the day, you spent with the team back at the pumpkin farm. Garcia had uncovered a very interesting lead. Most of the workers were employed off the books, without contracts, which likely explained the farm owner’s strange behavior. He’d been afraid — rightly so — that it would come to light.

This forced you to take a closer look at the workers, considering them as potential unsubs. But somehow, none of it seemed to connect. A dead end.

J had already given a statement on TV, but word about the victims’ identities still hadn’t come through. Because of this, Hotch decided to let you head back to the hotel early, a small reward for having been dragged out of bed so early that morning.

When he said it, you and Reid exchanged a smile, forgetting your little disagreement. The topic of the ranger never came up again—after all, Penelope hadn’t found anything on him.

You returned to the hotel relatively early in the evening, though with the time of year, it was already completely dark outside. You were utterly exhausted. The fact that you were planning to collapse into bed in your jeans was probably the best proof of that. But just before you did, you remembered you hadn’t called Jeremy since the day before. You hesitated before dialing his number—being in different time zones, it was already very late for him. Then you recalled your brother’s sleep schedule. Back when you’d lived together, he’d often go to bed around the same time you were getting up.

“Have you been wearing that shirt all day?” Reid asked, amused, as you took off your long coat. He was, of course, referring to the shirt’s graphic — a duck armed with a knife.

A smile appeared on your face as you opened your mouth to respond, but then you saw something that rendered you speechless.

“Y/n?”

Exactly eight missed calls from your mother. It wasn’t that alarming — she sometimes had a flair for the dramatic and would call over something as trivial as a broken egg, even though you had made it clear that you didn’t want to maintain contact with her anymore. However, a chill ran down your spine at seeing one missed call from your father.

You stammered, “I’ll be right back,” and headed to the bathroom. Once you closed the door, you leaned against it and dialed your mother’s number. It felt like an eternity waiting for her to pick up. During that time, the gentle movement of your knees turned into a tremor so intense that you had to grasp onto something for support.

“Mom?” you asked when she picked up. “What’s—”

“Finally!” her sobbing came through the line. The sound hit you like a powerful shockwave, leaving you feeling dazed and suspended in a void. “Oh my God, why haven’t you answered your mother all day? Do you have any idea what I’m going through right now? How do I feel? I was the one who found him…

You shook your head, partly in confusion, partly in denial.

“And through all of this, no one, not even your dad had asked how you were feeling! Abandoned by two children, including you, who wouldn’t even answer her calls…”

“Mom,” you barely managed to squeeze out, feeling an unimaginable weight in your chest. “You found who? Where?”

Your mother suddenly began to berate you for the lack of contact, completely ignoring your two questions. She shifted from shattered sobs to pure rage, almost hysteria. She had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder for years, and she approached her treatment carelessly, often forgetting to take her medication. In the face of difficult situations, she reacted in an intense, complicated manner, chaotically swinging from one extreme emotion to another.

Though her broken voice indicated that she, too, needed help, you pulled the phone away from your ear. You couldn’t bear to listen to her, too frightened by the visions that assaulted you. You needed to find out what had happened, and she wasn’t able to give you that information. With a heart-wrenching pain in your chest, you hung up.

With a trembling hand, you barely managed to dial your father’s number.

part 3 coming soon!

tag list: @miriamnox @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @nightfullofparadox

oh and i have one question for you guys, how to connect two parts of a story with each other?? i'm new on tumblr

[hanniebaeee]

The Ex

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of injury

Genre: exes to lovers, fluffffff

Summary: Your ex, Hyunjin, calls you at midnight, injured and freaked out. The fact that you're still in love with him may be a problem. Or not.

Your break-up with Hyunjin had been a literal storm. Tear-soaked, heartbreaking, and both of you still so much in love that it hurt beyond words could explain. You didn't understand how it came to it, actually. Watching him walk away was the hardest thing you've ever had to do, and that's an image you can't get off your mind. No matter how hard you try.

You tried to delete his number, unfollow him literally everywhere, and move on with your life. But it was easier said than done. That's why when his number flashes on your phone screen, you freeze.

You almost ignore it. Almost. But something inside you won't let you, and here you are, answering his call.

“Hyunjin?”

There’s a weird silence on his side. You haven't heard his voice since you broke up a couple of months ago, and the anticipation is killing you.

You're starting to think that he made a mistake, when you hear his breath on the other line - heavy and desperate.

“Y/N,” Hyunjin’s voice is shaky, and you sit upright, your heart in your throat.

“Hyunjin? What’s going on?” you ask, ready to run. “Are you ok?”

“I’m at - at the hospital,” he chokes out.

“What? What happened?!” you ask, fear starting to grip you.

“I fell…I was going down some stairs, trying to carry all my art supplies - don’t ask, it’s a long story. But I tripped and fell down the stairs, and my foot, it’s swelling up. It hurts like hell, Y/N, I’m so scared-” His voice breaks, and he takes in a shaky breath. “Someone dropped me here, and I don’t - I don’t even know anyone in this city.”

Your heart sinks, imagining him sitting there, hurt and scared and…alone. You know you should feel nothing for him. Maybe a bit of concern, but nothing else. He's your ex.

But no, that isn’t how your heart works. This is Hyunjin, it says, the guy you spent way too many sleepless nights with, the guy you had to claw out of your chest when you broke up.

“Hello? Y/N?” Hyunjin sounds like a lost little child, his little sobs gripping at your poor heart.

“Hyunjin, take a breath. Oh my God. Stop crying, baby, I’m on my way, okay? I-” You freeze, closing your eyes, cursing yourself for the slip.

You called him baby?!

A beat of silence. You can hear Hyunjin sniffling on the other side, and you panic.

“Oh, uh, I'm sorry, I didn’t mean-” you stutter, before quickly saying, “I'll see you soon.”

You hang up before he can reply, embarrassment coursing through you. You sit on your couch cringing and feeling terrible. Taking a deep breath, you reach for your phone again. You need backup and there’s only one person who can handle Hyunjin like you do.

So, with shaking fingers, you dial Changbin's number, as you make your way to your bedroom. Changbin picks up after about two rings, and says, “Hey babe, you good?”

“I'm not sure, Bin. Hyunjin called me…he’s hurt. He’s at the hospital, and he’s-” You fall silent as you hear Changbin sigh.

You can tell he’s running his hand through his hair the way he always does when he’s dealing with one of your ‘Hyunjin’ emergencies.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll go,” he says, but you both know you’re not going to let him go alone.

“Yeah, no. I’m coming with you. I can’t just sit here while he’s hurt,” you argue, already pulling on a jumper over your t-shirt.

“You’re crazy for doing this, you know that?” Changbin says.

“Yeah, what's new?” you mutter, pulling your jeans on, and then your shoes.

“Alright,” Changbin sighs, but you could hear the smile in his voice. “Let’s go pick up our delicate flower.”

He's over at yours in record time, and gives you an unimpressed look.

“Binnie, not now!” You say as you both get into his car.

The drive is only about an hour, but it feels like hours. You try not to think of the last time you made this journey. It ended up with you coming back alone and so broken. Now, you sit in silence, Changbin can feel you unraveling.

He shoots you a look and asks, “You okay?”

You let out a hollow laugh.

“I mean, my ex, with whom I’m still kind of in love with, is in the hospital. So, I guess I’m as fine as I can be.”

“Kind of? Who are you kidding?” Changbin raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Ok, shut up.” you mumble, cheeks burning and you look away, hoping he'll leave it alone.

But he just laughs, putting his hand on yours.

“I get it, ok? You’re a good person for doing this, Y/N.” he says softly, and you feel a tear prickle at the corner of your eye.

You blink it back, trying your best to hold it together.

“He must have moved on, right?” you say, fidgeting with the hem of your jacket.

“If you're talking about Hwang Hyunjin, I can assure you that he’s still head over heels for you, even if he won’t admit it.”

You manage a small smile at that and say, “You think?”

“No, I know,” Changbin says, smiling, “He wouldn’t have called you if he wasn't. You’re still the only person who can get through to him.”

“I’m so lucky to have you, you know that?” You say, squeezing his hand.

“You are,” he agrees, flashing you a cocky smirk. “And you’re welcome. Now, let’s go remind Hyunjin that he’s not a fragile old man on his deathbed.”

By the time you finally get to the hospital, your nerves are buzzing. You walk in with Changbin by your side, his hand a steady presence at your back.

And there he is, slumped in a chair with his injured foot propped up, wearing a miserable, pouty expression, and it's so adorable, it crushes you almost immediately.

When his eyes land on you, they light up and he's reaching out to you.

“You came!” His voice cracks, and you hate that it makes your heart flutter.

He takes your hand in his and presses his cheek to it, and holds onto you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “You actually came?”

You’re still mad at yourself for caring this much, but you don't regret anything. Not after seeing him like this.

“Yeah, you idiot. Of course I did.” you say gently, sitting near him.

He looks away, probably trying to hide his tears, and mutters, “I thought you’d never want to see me again.”

You’re about to reply when Changbin clears his throat.

“Hello to you too Hyunjin. Oh, how am I? I'm good!” He says dryly, making you laugh.

Hyunjin narrows his eyes at Changbin, rolling them even though he’s still clutching your hand.

“I knew she'll call you, I just-” Hyunjin tries, but Changbin snorts in response.

“You're sneaky little-” Changbin begins but a nurse comes over and says that Hyunjin’s doctor has taken a look at his x-rays and wants to talk to him.

Changbin helps him into the wheelchair and you all move into the examination room where the doctor tells him that it's a sprain, and he'll have to rest his foot for sometime.

Once outside, Changbin tells him, “No more carrying your entire art studio down the stairs.”

“Hey, I didn't have anyone to help me!” Hyunjin says.

“I wonder who's fault it is!” Changbin shoots back, and Hyunjin pouts, crossing his arms against his chest, as you bite back a laugh.

You all sit at the waiting area, wondering what to do next. As you look at Hyunjin, all the messy feelings you’ve buried rush to the surface. You know it’s stupid, probably really reckless, but you can't help it. You love this man so damn much.

Hyunjin sniffles, studying the bandage on his foot before looking at you.

“Are you ok?” You ask, seeing how tired he looked.

“When I fell, I was so scared…I thought I would die…like my entire life flashed before my eyes. It was horrible,” he says. “And, all I felt was regret. I… I was an idiot. I should have fought for us.”

His words are definitely pulling at your heartstrings. Your eyes meet Changbin's, sitting on Hyunjin’s other side. He raises his eyebrows, knowing exactly where this is going. Before you can say anything, Hyunjin is leaning into you, his fingers intertwined with yours.

“I won’t survive a single day without you,” he whispers. “I mean, look at me. You left me, and here I am - falling down stairs, breaking bones-”

“It's a sprain, Hyunjin,” You remind him with a smile.

“But it feels broken. I feel broken…without you…”

“Jinnie-” You start, not knowing what exactly to say to him.

Your heart twists painfully. You don't know if this is a good idea, but that doesn't stop you from wanting him.

“Before you two start making out in front of me, I’m gonna go get some coffee,” Changbin's voice cuts in.

Hyunjin grins, cupping your cheek with his hand. He ignores Changbin completely, and says, “If you'll have me, I promise to never let you go. I promise I'll be good.”

And before you can stop yourself, you lean in, pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss. He's pulling you closer, kissing you deeper, but you put a hand to his chest, gently pushing him back. You are still at the hospital, and people are starting to notice.

When Changbin returns, you both carefully put Hyunjin in the backseat. He grabs hold of your hand as you're about to shut the door, and wants you to sit with him.

He clings onto you the entire drive home, sneaking kisses - so many kisses. And also persuades you to spend the night at Changbin's, so you end up cuddling him to sleep.

And you sleep peacefully for the first time since your break up.

[fooloftheunknownworld]

Sir Pentious' backstory is fucking stupid (Also my last Viv' critical post for a while)

If you aren't familiar with the leaks, the reason why he got scent to Hell is because of his guilt of not reporting Jack the Ripper. I'm not sure it's because he was guilty of not telling or because he got sent to Hell because he felt guilty, if it's the latter then that raises way too many disturbing questions.

My problems with this:

-How did Pen knew who the killer was? He's a shut in who invents all day from all we know. Even if he saw Jack's face, he still wouldn't automatically know the person. Was Jack in this universe a famous man? Explain Vivzie!

-Pen really didn't deserve to be in Hell just by not doing anything. He was against an armed killer, probably in the night and he's likely not very fit because all we know so far is that he invents all day, this is supported by his rather scrawny bodytype.

Even if we go to the "Report to the police" route, from what we know, he barely has any evidence against Jack. All he can give is a testimony. Remember, he's dealing with Jack the fucking Ripper, the killer who is infamous for getting away spotless.

-Again, if Pen got into Hell solely because he FELT guilt, this brings a lot of disturbing questions into the table. Like, is feeling guilty for someone's death an immoral sin in this universe?

-If not telling the police was his only """""""""""""sin"""""""""""""" then why did he terrorize Pentagram City with his inversions?

[isi567]

Sooooo I have a theory why Megatron's eyes in Transformers Prime don't look normal.

I watched @emperor-kumquat video on YouTube and he read a book( I think it's Exodus) and inside they explained Kaon, city Megatron grew up in. It said that it was Soo polluted that bots eyes are seriously damaged and they could lose their eyesight so I'm definitely sure that happened to Megatron. They got damaged from pollution but not so seriously that's he was left blind like some bots, Also I don't think it's from gladiator fights because I'm sure damage would be way worse. And my proof is that Soundwave also lived in Kaon for some time as gladiator and he was using visor.

I'm sure he knew about pollution in the city so he cowered his face to protect it and Shockwave also worked in Kaon and he doesn't have eyes. I don't know for him if he's born like that or had some cosmetic surgery but that just proves more than Kaon was really hard place to live in. What do you think, why Megatron has messed up eyes?

[dangerousduckcloud]

Flowerbeds make up for a nice eternal rest

Read it also on AO3

“Thank you.” You whispered, knowing full well he’d heard you clearly, as he had to get really close to your face. Your gaze immediately fell onto his lips, something he must’ve caught up by the slight upwards curve they got. He was supposed to back up now, to go back to see the sunrise. Instead, the faint undertones of his cologne got stronger, his eyes focused on your lips as well. He was awfully close now you could feel his breathing on your face.

Chapter 14 < > Chapter 16 [soon]

Pretty short, pretty late and pretty awful but I’m sorry, my brain is fried

Taglist in the comments, if anyone else would like to be added to the taglist, let me know!

The city was as calm as your heart, a wild contrast to the thoughts in your head, as rowdy as the wind blowing your hair.

With Jason sitting so close to you, you could feel his body rising with every breath, his body heat helping you with the cold. After he sat down, it didn’t take more than a second for his hand to find yours, neither of you saying anything but taking in the presence of the other.

You turn to look at him, not subtly this time. The sunshine bathing him made his hair look redish, the white streak standing out. He noticed you staring, of course he did, yet instead on calling you out, he lolled his head to smile at you before turning his gaze to the sunrise once more.

Despite all, your face was impassive, glum. You couldn’t help but think back to Tim’s unfinished words from last night, before Damian found you.

‘It’s not that…’

Not, what? Not possible for you to go back? Not going to be easy to explain an almost two-month disappearance? But why would he worry about it? As long as they get their dad back, any other issue that arises for you will be of no concern to them.

Do you even want to go back?

What did you have, besides painful memories and brisk nightly companions?

But what made you think they would even want to have you here for long?

“Here, let me.” Jason was the one to break the silence, seeing you battle with the wind blowing your hair and obstructing your view for the fifth time. The hand that was holding yours let go, and the breeze hadn’t felt so cold until now. You saw him place his hand inside the pocket of his hoodie, pulling out the bat-shaped hair clip, gathering your hair in a loose, poorly done bun, but it got the job done. “There.”

“Thank you.” You whispered, knowing full well he’d heard you clearly, as he had to get really close to your face. Your gaze immediately fell onto his lips, something he must’ve caught up by the slight upwards curve they got.

He was supposed to back up now, to go back to see the sunrise. Instead, the faint undertones of his cologne got stronger, his eyes focused on your lips as well. He was awfully close now you could feel his breathing on your face.

“So, uh…” You turned your head, clearing your throat and speaking louder to drown out the cries from your heart. “What’s in there?”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a second before turning to see what you were looking at.

“Oh, I almost forgot about it.” He grabbed the woven basket, placing it between the two of you. You thought you’ll see fruits, ice-cream, maybe mini sandwiches, anything that wouldn’t taste bad if it was cold.

You didn’t expect to see a metal box inside. “Oh, steel. My favorite.”

Jason laughed at your lame joke, pressing a button on the top of the box. “I borrowed this from the old man. Let’s see if it works.”

The container opened with a slight hiss, the top folding in itself to the sides, revealing an assortment of sweet foods, going from donuts, waffles and muffins to berries, fruits, and chocolate covered strawberries.

In the middle of all, two large cups of hot chocolate were still letting out steam, Jason handed you one, cupping the mug with your fingers to warm them up, relishing in the heat.

You were taken aback by how perfect Jason was trying to be, so thoughtful, and romantic, straight out of a romance book. He was the type of man you ever dreamt of dating, yet even though he was sitting as close to you as physically possible, he still felt distant, unreachable, as if he was still just simple words inside a screen.

Because at the end of the day, that’s all he was. And that’s all he’ll become again when you get home.

“And after that mission,” You didn’t even realize Jason was talking, unaware of the internal struggle you were going through. “B began developing a prototype for this thing, to keep things warm for long periods of time. Looks like it works.”

“Yeah…” You took a donut, amazed at how warm it was, tasting as if it was just out of the oven, the filling of it so rich and full of flavor.

The sun had already risen, with more cars roaming the streets, honks, and shouts, and motors creating the sound pollution you were used to.

“So, what did you used to do? Back home.” Jason asked between sips of his cocoa.

“Nothing too exciting, I’ll tell you that.” You chuckled, taking a sip of your drink, only to purse your lips after being burned by it. “I was just a hotel receptionist.”

“Did you like it?”

“Yeah, I did. Sometimes. I mean, it wasn’t what I expected to be when I grew up, but it paid the bills, and it wasn’t that bad, so…”

"What would you have wanted?"

“To marry rich.” Jason laughed, taking hold of your hand again. “No, but I… Ugh, this is so lame but… I wanted to do something to help people, like you guys do. Maybe not vigilantism, but something my own way.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Like I said, hotel receptionist pays the bills... Must be nice to have a billionaire as your dad, not worry about that kind of thing.”

“Must be nicer to have been raised by your parents.”

Your blood went cold, body even colder. You’d said it as just a lighthearted comment, something a lot of people would joke about, it was easy for you to forget the reason as to why he’d come to live with Bruce.

“I’m so, so sorry Jason, I didn’t–”

“’s fine. You’re not the first one to say it.”

But it wasn’t fine, the way his jaw clenched, and his posture turned rigid proved it was not right. The way his fingers slithered out of your hold, no matter how much you tried to keep them intertwined, hurt more than the icy cold biting your cheeks, the temperature dropping with every breath.

“So, uh…” You poorly attempted to change the topic, to get him to talk and think about something else instead of the lingering uncomfortableness that didn’t seem it would disappear any time soon. "What do you do when you're not... Working overnight?"

“Not much. Mainly just detective work. You can’t do a lot when you’re dead.”

“Have you ever thought of changing that? I’m sure Tim–”

“Tim can do everything, can’t he?” He spat the words with so much hate it actually made you jump in your place. “You think I can’t do it on my own? I’m too stupid to handle a fucking computer? No, the replacement’s gotta do it. That’s why it didn’t take Bruce long to give him my place, ‘cuz he’s so great at everything he does.”

Dark clouds were moving slowly behind him, eating away the beautiful rays of sunshine that just a few minutes ago had shone so brightly.

“Why do you always have to call him that? Tim didn’t replace you.”

“Then what did he do? He took my place at the manor, he took Robin away from me, he took my 'dad' away from me. That seems like something a replacement would do.”

The first few drops of rain began falling onto you. Taking away any warmth the sun had given you. “Tim didn’t want to be Robin, he tried to get Dick to get back. He only did so when he saw how violent Bruce was getting after you were gone.”

“After I was gone? What, like I was gone on vacation? Like I abandoned him like Dick did? So, it’s my fault, isn’t it? Bruce was finally doing what the scum of Gotham deserved but no, we can’t have him do that, we can’t have him throw away everything for a street rat he found, the great Timothy had to save him.”

You knew the reason as to why Jason could be mad at him, but it still angered you a lot that Tim was getting blamed for something he didn’t do, for something he tried so hard to save only to be rewarded by two assassination attempts.

“What’s the matter with you? Why can’t you just let it go?”

“Let it go?” Even though his voice had gotten lower, his anger was louder and more powerful than the thunders. “Sure. Let it go and act like nothing happened, huh? Act like I wasn’t brutally beaten, tortured with a crowbar and then be blown up?” Was is the raindrops falling down your face, or were they your tears? “To act like my resurrection wasn’t traumatizing enough, and that the person that was supposed to love me didn’t care enough to kill his son’s murderer, even though he could? That he simply took in another child, another soldier for his stupid, never-ending battle, even though he knew what the outcome was?”

You opened your mouth, only to close it again because you knew there was nothing you could say.

“What? Bat got your tongue?”

A second passed, but the fury in his eyes never disappeared. The worst part is that you knew he was right, he had every right to be angry. You fucked up like crazy and there probably was nothing you could do or say to ever apologize.

You made the mistake of turning away for a second, to organize your thoughts and at least attempt to apologize, and when you were ready, the only thing next to you was a half-empty cup of cocoa and a soggy muffin, the paper wrap dissolving in the water.

You turned around, looking for him, hoping he had just stood up to breathe fresh air, to calm himself. You didn’t want to believe he left you here alone, yet there was no one else on the roof with you.

The sound of a bike speeding away made you stand, taking hold of one of the railings to prevent you from falling. And sure enough, Jason’s bike was getting further and further away from the building.

When the downpour was starting to get too strong, you let go of the railing. Jason had been gone for a while and it dawned on you that he wasn’t coming back. You took three steps backwards, the splashing puddles barely heard over the torrent, afraid that if you turned away, you’ll miss your chance of seeing him come back, even though deep down you knew he wouldn’t.

Your shoe hit something metallic that finally made you turn, a low ugh leaving you at seeing the metal container filled to the brim with water, pieces of soggy bread floating around. You dumped it out in a nearby trashcan, taking with you the metal container, as you were sure no one would be happy to know you left valuable bat-equipment behind.

Once the warmth of the elevator was enough to not hurt your fingers typing, you took out your phone to send your location to the only person that came to mind to pick you up, a wave of guilt at seeing how early it still was.

After going down from the 64th floor –were you really that high?– to the lobby, the elevator doors finally opened, the woman in the lobby throwing you a mixture of confusion and annoyance at seeing the large puddle of water you’d left behind and she’d have to clean up.

“Excuse me.” Her gangly voice said once you passed in front of the desk. “Are you a guest here?”

“No.”

She didn’t follow you outside the building, and you didn’t see her try to call the cops on you, living in Gotham, you were sure they wouldn’t bother with just an unknown girl soaked to the bone, she’d probably seen worse.

You didn’t have to wait long before you saw a black car coming your way and stopping right in front of you, the door opening and a hand backing up to give you space to get inside. “You okay?” You closed the door after you, the sound of water droplets falling onto the leather seats made you cringe, knowing the fabric will be ruined. “What are you doing here, alone?”

“Jason.” You said, your voice already hoarse. “I was with him.” You clarified a second later.

“Oh.” Dick said, starting up the car and taking a turn towards the manor, turning on the heat all the way up. “I didn’t know you two were, err, talking.”

“Not anymore, now.”

[elikajinnie]

Mysterious Circumstances - N.R

P: Serial Killer!Ni-ki X FemReader!

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Murder, Corruption, Blood/Injury, Deceit, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Jealousy, Attempted Murder, everybody say poor jiung.

Synopsis: When you move into a new apartment, your mysterious neighbor Ni-ki catches your attention—but so does a dangerous murderer with an unsettling obsession with you. As your friend Jiung warns you that Ni-ki may be hiding secrets, you're forced to question who you can trust.

Wordcount: 29k

a/n: rewatching dexter morgan now cause why not? anyways enjoy and pls reblog and like <3

--

In this economy, it was nearly impossible to find an affordable place as a student trying to juggle both work and school. But somehow, luck had tipped in your favor, and you managed to land a tiny student apartment. Sure, it was a bit removed from the city center, and the bus route wasn’t always reliable, but it was yours.

Moving day had been chaotic, but a few neighbors were kind enough to offer help as you dragged your furniture and bags inside. Over the next few days, you got to know a handful of them. There was Mrs. Han, an older woman who always had a story to share and a recipe for every occasion, and there were two other students who, like you, often looked like they were running on pure caffeine and sheer willpower.

The only person you hadn’t met was your next-door neighbor. You'd actually thought the apartment beside yours was empty; the place was as quiet as a graveyard, and you'd never heard a single noise from it. It isn’t until Mrs. Han brings you a steaming bowl of her homemade stew that you learn the truth.

“Ah, dear,” she says between sips of the tea you made for her, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “You must meet the young man next door! Such a nice fellow, but he’s been away. Family in Japan, you know?”

Her enthusiasm catches you off guard. You chuckle lightly, trying to play it cool. “Sure, sounds nice,” you say, but a hint of curiosity creeps in.

“Oh, he’s so handsome!” she insists, her voice laced with genuine fondness. “You two would make such a lovely couple!”

You pause, your laughter dying in your throat. “Thanks, but I’m not looking for anyone,” you explain, the weight of your recent breakup hanging over you like a dark cloud.

Mrs. Han`s face falls slightly, but her optimism doesn’t waver. “That’s unfortunate... You would have liked him!”

“What’s his name?” you ask, playing along, if only to satisfy your own curiosity.

“Nishimura Ri-ki,” she replies, her smile returning as she savors the sound of his name, as if it were a cherished secret.

You nod, storing that name away for a later moment when you might need it, a faint ember of intrigue igniting within you.

So, you settled in, figuring it’d be a while before you’d have a chance to meet him, if ever.

But one night, as you were deep into your notes, trying to make sense of a mountain of study material, you heard it—the unmistakable click of the door next door opening, then closing softly. Footsteps, light and deliberate, moved across the floor, and you caught the sound of muffled words in Japanese.

There was a rustling, the faint scrape of what sounded like heavy bags being set down, and then silence. After a moment, a new thought clicked into place—your elusive neighbor had finally returned.

Curiosity tugged at you, but you hesitated. It wasn’t as though you could just walk over and knock. He’d likely just gotten back from a long trip and would want to settle in. But as you listened to the familiar sounds of unpacking through the wall, you wondered what he was like. Maybe he'd be just another busy student like you, or maybe… someone you wouldn’t expect.

And one morning, as you’re hurrying down the hall, you finally see him.

He’s standing outside his door, tall—very tall—with dark hair falling into his eyes as he fumbles sleepily with his keys, muttering something under his breath. There's an effortless, almost careless confidence in the way he stands, the kind that draws your attention without even trying. When he finally looks up, his eyes meet yours, and the old woman’s words echo in your head: handsome.

He has a striking face, sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and piercing eyes that seem both focused and detached. His build is slim yet lean, and he’s dressed in a way that’s understated but impossibly stylish. It’s hard not to notice; there’s a refined edge to him that somehow makes the early-morning grogginess look deliberate, like it’s just part of his charm.

At first glance, he seems… intimidating. The intensity in his gaze catches you off guard, and for a moment, you find yourself frozen, unsure if you should look away or say something.

“Ah, you must be the new neighbor,” he says, his voice smooth and warm, carrying a casual friendliness that makes you feel as if you’re talking to someone you’ve known for ages.

You nod, feeling a slight, inevitable awkwardness. “Yeah, that’s me. Nice to finally meet you… Ri-ki, right?”

He grins, nodding. “That’s right. But you can call me Ni-ki—that’s what most people use.”

You offer him your name in return, and he repeats it softly, as if testing it, making sure he gets it just right. There’s a faint trace of an accent in his voice, a subtle lilt that adds to his charm.

“Nice name,” he says, giving you a small, genuine smile. His smiles are understated, almost reserved, yet they have a sincerity that leaves an impression. And just for a second, his gaze lingers on you—curious, almost as if he’s sizing you up. You catch it, but brush it off as nothing.

“If you ever need anything, just knock,” he says, leaning back with a quiet ease. “I’m still getting back into the swing of things here, but I’m around.”

With that, he gives a casual wave and slips into his apartment, leaving you alone in the hallway. You stand there, still feeling the warmth of his voice, and can’t help but wonder if the old lady had been right about him after all.

In the days that followed, you found yourself crossing paths with Ni-ki more frequently, mostly in the early mornings when you were both heading out. There was an ease to these encounters—a nod, a brief exchange of “good mornings,” maybe a small smile from him. He had a quiet way of being friendly, but you noticed a certain mystery to his routine. While you only ever seemed to run into him during the day, at night, you’d often hear the door to his apartment open and close. You figured he had some job with late hours, something that kept him out through the night.

One morning, though, your usual passing-by turned a little strange.

As you were locking your door, Ni-ki appeared down the hallway, carrying a bag slung over one shoulder. He stopped in front of his door, setting the bag down to dig for his keys. Just as he was fishing them out, a roll of duct tape slipped out and rolled across the floor, stopping neatly at your feet.

You crouched down, picking it up, and turned it over in your hand, your eyes meeting his for a brief moment as you handed it back. “You dropped this.”

Ni-ki blinked, then gave you a soft, appreciative smile as he took it from you. “Thanks,” he said, tucking the tape back into his bag without another word, and slipping into his apartment with a nod. You couldn’t quite place it, but the encounter left you feeling slightly unsettled, even if you brushed it off as nothing.

With a sigh, you headed down to the street, making your way to the building’s parking lot. You hated this route, especially at night, with the narrow alleyways and strewn trash. A few small shops lined the way, and there was always a sense of something lingering in the shadows. But it was the only path to the lot, so you resigned yourself to walking it, tightening your grip on your bag.

Halfway there, you paused, catching sight of a familiar sight on the wall outside a laundromat: a collection of missing person posters. You’d noticed them when you first moved in—rows of faces staring back at you, each one accompanied by details of last sightings and worried pleas from family members. It had unsettled you from the beginning, so much so that you avoided coming home too late. And when you did, you always clutched your pepper spray tightly in your bag.

Today, however, something different caught your eye. There was a new poster on the wall, freshly pinned beside the others. The picture was of a young woman, her smile frozen in a snapshot of happier days. Below the photo, it said she had last been seen three days ago, near her home. A chill ran down your spine as you stared at it.

You turned away quickly, heart racing as you hurried towards the parking lot, relief flooding over you as you finally got to your car and locked the doors.

--

It was late afternoon when you returned home from work, your feet aching as you climbed the stairs. Just as you rounded the corner toward your apartment, you spotted one of your neighbors standing in the hallway. He looked a little worn out himself, books and papers spilling out of his bag, but he straightened up and offered a friendly smile when he noticed you approaching.

“Hey! You’re the new neighbor, right?” he asked.

You nodded, and he introduced himself as Jiung, one of the other students who shared the floor with you. You exchanged a few polite comments about school, life in the building, and eventually, you found yourself laughing at his stories about late-night study sessions gone wrong. “Hey, we should study together sometime!” Jiung suggested enthusiastically. “I could use a study buddy to keep me on track.”

You were about to respond when the door to Ni-ki’s apartment opened, and he stepped out, a bag slung over his shoulder. He looked like he was on his way somewhere, but he paused when he saw you and Jiung talking. There was no emotion in his gaze as he glanced at Jiung, who greeted him with a friendly nod. “Hey, Ni-ki! How’s it going?”

Ni-ki gave the briefest nod in response, eyes cool and unreadable. It wasn’t exactly unfriendly, but there was a noticeable distance. However, when you spoke up, greeting him with a casual “Hey, Ni-ki,” his whole demeanor shifted. His gaze softened as it landed on you, and the corners of his mouth curved into a faint smile.

“Hey,” he replied, voice warm, and he seemed to hold your gaze for a beat longer than necessary. “Headed out for a bit,” he added, lifting the strap of his bag as if in explanation. “I’ll see you around.”

“See you,” you replied, catching that small, almost private smile he gave before he turned and headed down the hallway.

Once he was gone, you turned back to Jiung, your curiosity piqued. “What’s he like? Ni-ki, I mean. He seems… quiet.”

Jiung shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, he’s not much of a talker. I’ve seen him around, but he usually keeps to himself. I’m surprised he smiled at you. That’s not something I’ve seen him do.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? He seems nice enough.”

“Nice? Sure,” Jiung chuckled, a hint of disbelief in his tone. “Just… mysterious, I guess.”

You couldn’t help but shrug, your thoughts lingering on the way Ni-ki had looked at you. It was easy to let your mind wander about him, but you shook it off, needing to focus on your own routine.

“Anyway, I should get going,” you said, unlocking your door and stepping inside. “But I’d love to study together soon!”

Jiung waved goodbye, and you kicked off your shoes, letting the familiar comfort of your apartment wash over you. After tossing your bag onto the couch, you headed straight for the bathroom, eager to wash away the day.

After your shower, you were heading to the kitchen to make dinner, the sudden sound of your doorbell caught you off guard. Peeking through the peephole, you spotted Jiung standing in the hallway, looking cheerful and a bit expectant.

Curiosity piqued, you opened the door. “Hey! What’s up?”

“Hey! I was just wondering if you wanted to grab dinner at that little diner down the street,” he offered, his enthusiasm contagious. “I hear their burgers are amazing!”

The idea was tempting, and you found yourself smiling. “Sure! That sounds great.”

Within moments, you were both strolling down the street, the evening air pleasantly cool against your skin. Jiung chatted easily, sharing amusing stories from his day that had you laughing.

Once you settled into a cozy booth at the diner, you couldn’t help but appreciate how at ease Jiung made you feel. As you perused the menu, you turned the conversation toward him. “So, what do you do for work?” you asked, genuinely curious.

His eyes lit up as he leaned back, a grin on his face. “I work in criminology.”

You blinked, taken aback. “Wait, really? I knew you studied crime, but I didn’t realize you had a job in it!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” he replied, a hint of pride in his voice. “I’m mostly in the back right now, just filling out papers and doing administrative stuff. But with everything going on—the people disappearing—I’ve been able to look into some of the cases.”

You leaned in, intrigued. “What do you think about it? Do you really think they’ll find the people?”

Jiung’s expression shifted, a seriousness replacing the earlier lightheartedness. “Honestly? I think they’ll find most of them in a ditch somewhere… dead,” he said, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

A chill ran down your spine, the earlier comfort now tinged with unease. “That’s… grim,” you said quietly, feeling a knot in your stomach at the thought. “Do you think they’re all connected?”

He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “It’s hard to say. There are definitely patterns in cases like this, but a lot of it just feels random. It’s the uncertainty that gets to you. You never know what’s going to happen next.”

You both fell into a contemplative silence, the diner buzzing around you, the laughter of other patrons fading into the background as the weight of the conversation settled in.

“Let’s change the topic,” you suggested, attempting to lighten the mood. “What’s your favorite kind of burger?”

Jiung’s expression brightened at your attempt to shift the conversation. “Oh, definitely a classic cheeseburger! You can’t go wrong with a juicy patty and melted cheese,” he said, his enthusiasm returning as he leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “How about you? What’s your go-to?”

You laughed, relieved at the change in tone. “Hard to say!”

He nodded “Well we should totally do a burger night sometime, try out different places around here.”

“I’m in! I’ve been wanting to explore more of the area,” you replied, feeling a sense of excitement at the prospect of more outings together.

Just then, the waitress arrived to take your order, and you both made your selections, sharing a few more laughs as Jiung recounted a funny story from his work. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and as your food arrived, you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company.

With each bite of your burger, you felt more at ease. Jiung was a great conversationalist, effortlessly switching from light-hearted jokes to more serious topics, never lingering too long on any one subject.

After finishing your meal, you leaned back in your seat, satisfied. “That was amazing! I’m definitely coming back here,” you said, glancing at Jiung.

“Right? It’s a hidden gem,” he agreed, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “So, what else do you like to do when you’re not buried in schoolwork?”

You took a moment to think, then smiled. “I love camping with friends. It’s a nice break from everything.”

“Camping, huh? That sounds awesome! I haven’t been in ages,” he said, his face lighting up. “I’d love to join you guys sometime if you ever need an extra hand.”

“Absolutely!” you replied.

Eventually, you realized how late it had gotten. With a reluctant sigh, you reached for your phone to check the time. “Wow, we should probably head back. I have class early in the morning,” you said, feeling a slight twinge of disappointment at the thought of the night ending.

“Yeah, I should get back too. I have some work to finish up,” Jiung replied, but there was a hint of reluctance in his voice as well.

When you reached your building, you turned to Jiung with a smile. “Thanks for dinner, Jiung. I had a great time!”

“Me too! We definitely need to do this again,” he replied, his smile wide and genuine.

You waved goodbye to Jiung, the warmth of the evening still buzzing in your chest as you stepped into the building. The comforting familiarity of your apartment awaited you, and you closed the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment to savor the afterglow of a good night.

After dropping your bag onto the couch, you moved through the small space, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

As you got ready for bed, your mind wandered back to Jiung’s laughter and the easy way he’d made you feel. You smiled at the thought of him, picturing the way he’d animatedly shared stories, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm.

You brushed your teeth and slipped into your pajamas, the familiar routine comforting you as you settled into bed. As you pulled the covers up, a sense of sleepiness enveloped you, and you closed your eyes, allowing the events of the day to fade into the background.

Meanwhile, just on the other side of the wall, Ni-ki stood silently in his dimly lit bedroom. The faint light of the street lamps outside illuminated the room, casting shadows on the wall that separated him from you. He was staring at that very wall, deep in thought.

Thoughts swirled in his mind, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of how drawn he was to you. The way you’d smiled at him earlier, your laughter echoing even in his thoughts, was intoxicating. There was something about you that felt different—refreshing and genuine. You captivated him in a way that made it hard to focus on anything else, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to truly know you. The longing to have you in his arms for himself coursed through him, an obsession that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

As he stood there, he couldn’t help but realize how you had taken over his every thought since he had returned home. Every little interaction replayed in his mind, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke, the softness in your voice. He felt an urge to be closer to you, to share more than just a wall.

Unable to resist, he walked closer to the wall, his heart pounding in anticipation. At the edge of his room, he crouched down near a small hole, a remnant from when the building had been renovated. It was barely noticeable, easily missed by anyone else. But to him, it was a window into a world he yearned to explore.

Peering through the tiny opening, he felt a rush of emotions as he caught a glimpse of your bedroom. There you were, peacefully sleeping on your bed, the gentle rise and fall of your chest barely visible in the dim light. The sight struck him with an overwhelming sense of want. You looked so serene, completely unaware of his presence, and he felt a strange mix of admiration and longing wash over him.

For a moment, time stood still as he watched you, entranced by the vulnerability of the moment. The shadows danced around your figure, and he wished more than anything to reach out, to bridge the distance that lay between you. But he knew he couldn't—not yet.

As the seconds stretched into minutes, he began to feel his thoughts spiraling, sinking deeper into an obsession that had taken root faster than he’d ever anticipated. He felt restless, his mind racing with a relentless need to be closer to you, to make you truly his. His hands clenched into fists, and he tore his gaze away, feeling the tension pulse within him.

Pushing himself up, he took a steadying breath, trying to clear his mind. He grabbed his bag from the corner of his room, hastily slinging it over his shoulder as he headed for the door. The apartment felt stifling, as though the walls themselves were closing in on him. He needed air, space, somewhere to let his restless energy burn itself out.

As he stepped out into the cool night, the familiar darkness of the alleyways called to him, a place where he could blend into the shadows. He moved through the narrow streets with purpose, the muted sound of his footsteps swallowed by the thick silence of the night. His thoughts continued to circle back to you, and he struggled to shake the hold you had on him, the way you’d invaded his every thought.

The alleys, littered with discarded trash and the occasional flicker of a broken streetlight, felt like a fitting place for the storm brewing inside him. Ni-ki knew he’d have to confront these feelings eventually, to figure out what he wanted from you—or rather, what he was willing to do to have it.

--

The next morning, you woke up and began your usual routine. The sun barely peeked through the blinds, casting soft lines of light across your room as you stretched, pushing away the lingering sleepiness. After washing up and getting dressed, you wandered into the kitchen to start breakfast. You flipped on the TV on the counter, letting the morning news fill the quiet apartment.

But today’s news wasn’t the usual report of traffic and weather.

The screen flashed to a somber-faced anchor as she reported the story. “Breaking news this morning. Authorities have confirmed the discovery of several bodies in the nearby forest—those of individuals reported missing over the past few weeks.”

You froze, the toast forgotten in your hand.

“According to sources,” the anchor continued, her voice steady but grave, “all the victims were found in shallow graves scattered throughout the area. While police are withholding certain details of the investigation, it appears the victims suffered similar injuries before being disposed of.”

The camera cut to aerial shots of a dense, mist-shrouded forest, police cars dotting the dirt paths and officials gathering at the edge of the trees. Crime scene tape fluttered in the breeze, sectioning off parts of the forest where investigators combed the ground. The reporter’s voice droned on, but you barely heard the rest, caught in a mix of shock and unease.

Your mind flashed back to the rows of missing person posters in the alleyway, the faces staring back at you.

The broadcast shifted to interviews with shaken locals, expressing their horror and sorrow. You took a shaky breath and forced yourself to turn away from the TV, hoping to shake off the creeping fear that settled in. It was hard to believe this was happening so close to home—and to think that just last night, you'd felt safe, even happy.

You rubbed at your arms, trying to rid yourself of the unease. Part of you wanted to text Jiung, maybe even ask if he’d heard anything. After all, he’d told you just last night that he was beginning to work on some of the missing person cases. Maybe he’d have some answers… or at least a comforting word. But a new thought hit you, one that made your stomach turn—Jiung’s earlier words echoed back to you, cold and direct: they’ll probably find them in a ditch, dead somewhere.

With an effort, you shook it off, grabbing your bag and heading out, trying to focus on the day ahead.

As you stepped out of your apartment, the hallway felt unusually quiet, almost tense, as if it, too, held its breath in response to the morning's grim news. You glanced down the hall, half-expecting to see a few neighbors gathering, maybe exchanging words about the unsettling report. But it was empty, still, as though the building itself had absorbed the heaviness of what you’d just learned.

Making your way toward the elevator, you felt a pang of nervousness, and just as you were about to press the button, the sound of footsteps caught your attention, echoing from around the corner.

You turned and saw Ni-ki. He looked calm, almost unbothered, his expression as unreadable as ever. A hint of a small smile crept onto his face as he noticed you, his eyes flickering over you in that way that always seemed to linger just a beat too long.

“Morning,” he greeted, his voice low and casual.

“Morning,” you replied, trying to muster a steady smile.

“You okay?” he asked, his gaze a little sharper, as if he could sense something was off.

“Just… heard the news. They found the bodies of some of those missing people,” you said quietly, glancing down.

He nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful, as though he were considering the words carefully. “Yeah. It’s unsettling, isn’t it? This city’s not what it used to be.”

You nodded, a strange feeling settling over you. He was calm, too calm. But then again, maybe he was just better at masking his emotions.

“So, off to work?” he asked, his tone light, almost as if he were changing the subject intentionally.

“Yeah,” you said, feeling relieved to talk about something mundane, something far from the gruesome reality of the news. “I should get going.”

“Be careful out there,” he said, and his gaze lingered on you, that same unreadable intensity in his eyes. There was something in the way he looked at you, something that felt both protective and… something else you couldn’t quite name.

With a small nod, you turned and stepped into the elevator, feeling his gaze on you until the doors closed.

--

That evening, as you lay in bed, the feeling of unease crept back, refusing to let you rest.

You shifted beneath the covers, trying to find a comfortable position. It felt like the city was closing in on you, secrets lurking around every corner, even in your own building.

But finally, as exhaustion took its toll, your eyelids grew heavy, and you drifted off, slipping into a restless sleep.

The room around you blurred into shadows, and your dreams stirred, fragmented images of faces you didn’t recognize flashing across your mind. A faint sense of dread seeped into the dream, mingling with the strange silence of the hallways in your building. In your dream, you were walking down a dim corridor, the walls narrowing, pressing in closer with each step.

And then, somewhere in the distance, you heard a voice, low and almost familiar, calling your name.

You turned, but the hallway stretched endlessly, fading into darkness. You started to walk faster, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling, the sense of being watched creeping over you. Every now and then, you'd glimpse shadows flickering at the edge of your vision, but whenever you looked, there was nothing.

The voice grew closer, a deep, almost soothing tone that sent shivers down your spine. It was calling your name again, soft and persistent, like a lullaby pulling you deeper.

In the stillness, you felt a hand on your shoulder, gentle but firm. You spun around, and suddenly you weren’t in the hallway anymore—you were back in your bedroom, lying in bed, your heart pounding as you blinked at the familiar shadows. It took a moment to convince yourself you were truly awake, that whatever presence had been in your dreams was just that—a dream.

But as you stared up at the ceiling, trying to steady your breathing, you felt a lingering presence, as though someone had just left the room, watching you in silence.

The next day, after a long shift at work, you returned home, grateful to finally relax. Dropping your bag by the door, you slipped into something more comfortable and settled on the couch, absently flicking through channels as you tried to unwind.

You didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you stumbled upon a crime show rerun, its familiar theme music drawing you in. Without thinking, you leaned back, letting the sounds and scenes wash over you, instantly hooked by the storyline. The show delved into a detective's pursuit of a mysterious suspect, each piece of evidence drawing him closer to the truth—and closer to a chilling revelation.

As you watched, you couldn’t help but feel a strange, lingering tension, like the details were tugging at something buried in the back of your mind. Each time the show shifted to a dimly lit crime scene or the detective narrowed in on his suspicions, a shiver ran through you. The storyline was fictional, you reminded yourself, just a cleverly crafted script. But the suspense was so gripping, so real, that you could feel your pulse quicken with each reveal.

The episode built to a tense, nail-biting finale as the detective pieced together the last clues. With each passing moment, it became painfully clear that the killer had always been closer than anyone expected. As the scene unfolded, the detective arrived at a secluded cabin on the outskirts of town, where he confronted his best friend—the very friend who had been beside him through every twist and turn of the investigation. The friend tried to justify himself, a calm expression masking a chilling emptiness as he spoke about why he’d done it, how easy it had been to lie, to manipulate the detective into trusting him completely.

The camera closed in on the detective’s face, his expression a mixture of betrayal and horror. As the final credits rolled, the weight of that last revelation hung in the air, you realized you’d been sitting there with your legs tucked to your chest, entirely wrapped up in the drama. You exhaled, blinking as you pulled yourself back into the present. You got up, turning off the TV and glancing around the room, still feeling a faint tension prickling at the edges of your awareness.

You gave yourself a small shake, trying to laugh it off. It was just a TV show, after all. Nothing to get worked up over.

But as you walked toward your bedroom, preparing for bed, you couldn’t shake the faint echo of the show’s final line: “Sometimes, the people closest to us are the ones hiding the darkest secrets.”

You shivered, the weight of that line lingering with you as you slipped under the covers, feeling a strange, nagging unease as the room darkened around you.

--

The night was quiet, the air thick with an eerie stillness as the woman walked down the empty street. Her voice was soft but cheerful as she spoke on the phone, the distant warmth of her father's voice on the other end keeping her company. She laughed lightly, reassuring him, “I’ll be home soon, don’t worry. Just a few more blocks.”

Her voice echoed faintly down the road, but she didn’t notice the lurking shadows around her or the faint glint of the black van parked just a little too conveniently along her path. She was focused on her conversation, on the comfortable thoughts of home.

As she passed the van, a figure stepped from behind it, tall and cloaked in darkness, their features obscured by the smooth, black surface of a mask. In one swift movement, the figure lunged forward, a blade glinting under the dim streetlights. Before she could scream, the knife plunged into her back, silencing her words with a strangled gasp. Her phone clattered to the ground, her father’s voice calling her name desperately from the other end.

In one fluid motion, the figure hauled her up, opened the van door, and shoved her inside. The door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the still night.

The figure adjusted their mask, scanning the area, making sure no one had seen—only to freeze as they noticed a lone figure, a woman standing a short distance away, eyes wide with shock and horror. She’d seen everything.

The masked figure tilted their head, pointing toward her with a gloved hand. “Oh, hello there, sweetheart” they said, the voice disturbingly calm, almost playful.

The woman’s breath hitched, her hands trembling as she took a step back. She tried to scream, to turn and run, but terror had locked her in place. The figure began to move toward her, each step slow and deliberate, closing the distance in long, measured strides.

A strangled sound escaped her lips, and she finally turned, her feet stumbling over themselves as she bolted down the street, desperate for an escape. But her footsteps were matched, quicker, heavier, the figure gaining on her with chilling ease.

She didn’t make it far before she felt a hand clamp over her shoulder, yanking her back with brutal strength. Her scream was muffled as she was dragged backward, her last sight of the quiet street fading as she was pulled into the waiting darkness.

The next day, news broke of a grisly discovery—a woman’s body found stabbed multiple times in a dark alleyway. The details were still emerging, but there were hints of something more chilling: a second woman reported missing, suspected murdered.

The morning news report broke in as you settled into your seat for lunch at school, your friends gathered around the table, chatting and laughing. But the tone shifted as Ji-wong's voice rose above the clamor.

“Did you guys hear? They found a woman’s body in an alleyway last night,” she said, her face a mix of shock and disbelief. “She was stabbed multiple times. It’s all over the news.”

Your heart sank as you absorbed her words. You glanced at the TV mounted in the cafeteria, the screen flickering with images of the crime scene, police tape strung around the darkened alley, a crowd of reporters clamoring for details. The news anchor’s voice droned on, detailing the discovery.

You could hear your friends exchanging hushed whispers, their voices overlapping in concern and intrigue. “Can you believe it?” one of them exclaimed, shaking their head. “How could something like this happen here?”

Another chimed in, “It’s so scary. We walk these streets all the time!”

You remained quiet, a knot tightening in your stomach as you picked at your food. Your friends continued to discuss theories about the killer, sharing opinions about how to stay safe, but all you could focus on was the weight of the news.

Ji-wong glanced over at you, concern etched on her face. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked gently, sensing your quietness.

You nodded, forcing a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah, just… a lot to take in.”

She nodded, but you could see the worry linger in her gaze as the conversation shifted back to the details of the crime, leaving you lost in your thoughts.

After school, you and your friends made your way to Hyerin’s place, arms full of books and bags. Her apartment was warm and welcoming, instantly lifting the tense cloud. The group settled in, books sprawled across the coffee table as you attempted to study, though the conversation soon drifted to lighter topics.

Not long after, someone suggested ordering pizza, and before you knew it, the textbooks were forgotten as laughter filled the room, everyone relaxed and joking around. Between bites of pizza and bursts of laughter, time flew by, the clock on the wall ticking faster than you realized. By the time you glanced at it, it was well past midnight.

A slight unease settled over you as you checked the time again. “I should probably get going soon,” you said, not wanting to admit that the thought of walking home this late made you nervous.

But Hyerin just waved her hand, dismissing your concern. “Don’t worry about it! You can just stay here. We have extra blankets and space on the couch.”

Relieved, you nodded, grateful to avoid the long walk through the dark streets. “Thanks, Hyerin. I really didn’t want to be out after midnight.”

“Of course!” she said brightly. “I wouldn’t want to walk out there either. And besides, it’s more fun with you here.”

--

Ni-ki stared through the small hole, his gaze tracing over your empty room, irritation bubbling under his calm exterior. You weren’t home. The thought gnawed at him, and he found himself pacing across his apartment, restless. He glanced at the clock on the wall, each passing second heightening his frustration until he muttered a low curse, grabbing his bag before stepping out.

He paused outside your door, jaw clenched as he stared at it, mind racing. Just then, he heard footsteps, and when he looked up, Jiung was locking his own door. “Hey,” Jiung said casually, but Ni-ki's mind was racing with questions.

“Where’s Y/N?” Ni-ki asked, trying to keep his tone neutral, though he could feel the tension coiling inside him.

“Oh, she’s with a friend,” Jiung replied, shrugging as he continued on his way.

A spark of anger ignited in Ni-ki’s chest. Why did Jiung know where you were? Why did he have that information when Ni-ki did not? But he masked his irritation with indifference, taking a steadying breath, his expression smoothing into cold neutrality as he watched Jiung’s back disappear through the door. He waited a moment, then slipped out of the building behind him, falling into step at a distance.

The night air was crisp, brushing against his skin as he moved silently, slipping on a mask to cover the lower half of his face, fingers grazing the blade concealed in his bag. He kept his steps light, trailing Jiung with a practiced patience, biding his time.

But then, his gaze shifted to a young man walking toward them, absorbed in his phone, completely unaware of his surroundings. Ni-ki paused, the choice lingering between them like an invitation. His eyes followed Jiung, now gaining distance, then flicked back to the man much closer, oblivious, vulnerable.

With a silent groan, he made his decision. He turned from Jiung and closed in on the young man, steps quickening, his grip on the blade tightening. He moved like a shadow, swift and silent, until he was right behind him. In a single, precise motion, his blade flashing in the dim light before the man's gasp was choked into a sickening gurgle, the sound of struggle dwindling into silence.

Ni-ki let the body slump to the ground, sparing a glance over his shoulder to ensure no one had seen. Jiung had already disappeared down the road, blissfully unaware of the fate that had played out in his wake. With one last look at the lifeless figure, Ni-ki wiped his blade, pocketed it, and slipped back into the night.

--

The next day, you returned from Hyerin’s place, still a bit groggy from the late night. But as you neared your building, something felt… wrong. A few police cars were parked on the street, their lights flashing in silent urgency. You blinked, unsure if it was exhaustion playing tricks on you, but the closer you got, the more the scene came into focus.

A section of the street near the entrance was cordoned off with yellow police tape, and a small group of officers clustered around the area, deep in discussion. Your steps slowed as you took in the scene, eyes widening with a growing sense of dread.

Just then, two officers noticed you and made their way over. “Excuse me,” one of them said, glancing down at his notebook before looking back at you. “Do you live in this building?”

You swallowed, feeling suddenly very aware of the tension in the air. “Yes,” you replied, nodding.

The officer’s expression was calm but serious. “Have you noticed anything unusual or suspicious lately?”

You shook your head slowly, feeling a strange weight settle in your chest. “No, I… I was out with a friend last night, actually. I just got back.”

The other officer exchanged a glance with his partner before saying, “If you do happen to notice anything, please report it right away. Safety’s a priority right now.”

Your stomach twisted as a flash of concern crossed your face. “Can I… ask what happened?”

The first officer sighed, nodding slightly as he spoke, “A young man’s body was found nearby early this morning. We’re still investigating, but if you hear or see anything, let us know.”

You nodded, processing his words in silence as you managed a quick goodbye, leaving the officers behind. Your thoughts were a mix of shock and unease as you continued toward your apartment.

By the time you closed the door behind you, your mind was still reeling from what you’d heard. A young man, here?

--

You sat curled up on the couch, the glow of the TV casting dim shadows across the room as you continued with the latest episode of the crime show.

Just as the plot thickened, your doorbell rang. Reluctantly, you tore your attention away, padding over to the door. Peeking through the peephole, you saw Jiung standing there, looking a bit nervous. You opened the door with a curious smile.

“Hey, Jiung. What’s up?” you asked, noticing his slight hesitation as he shifted from foot to foot.

He took a breath and then, in a slightly rushed tone, asked, “Would you… maybe want to go out with me sometime? Like… on a date?”

Surprised, you paused, caught off guard. After a moment’s thought, you gave him a small smile. “I’ll think about it, Jiung.”

His face lit up, and he nodded quickly. “Great! I’ll, uh, let you think it over.” He flashed you a happy grin before heading down the hallway, glancing back once with a wave as he disappeared around the corner.

You closed the door and went back to the couch, feeling a bit dazed from the unexpected moment. But just as you settled down, another knock echoed through the room. With a sigh, you got up again, peering through the peephole. This time, it was Ni-ki.

You opened the door, offering him a polite smile. “Hey, Ni-ki.”

“Hey,” he greeted with a quiet smile of his own, holding up an empty container. “Do you have any salt? I’m all out.”

“Sure, come on in,” you said, motioning for him to step inside. You made your way to the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets for the salt shaker.

Ni-ki’s eyes wandered over to the TV screen, and when you came back to hand him the salt, he glanced over at you with interest. “You watch this show too?” he asked, his tone holding a hint of excitement. “It’s one of my favorites.”

Your eyes lit up, a smile forming as you looked at him. “Really? I just started watching it recently.”

He nodded, his eyes returning to the screen. “Yeah, I’ve been following it since the start. It really keeps you on edge.”

Before you realized it, you were both seated on the couch, completely immersed in the show. The storyline unfolded, and the detective chased after his best friend—the killer—through a dark, shadowed warehouse. Each twist and turn of the chase drew you both in, leaning closer as the suspense built.

It wasn’t until the episode ended that you noticed how comfortable the room had become, Ni-ki looked at you, his usual reserve softened.

“That was… intense,” you said, breaking the silence.

Ni-ki’s eyes lingered on you, a quiet glint in his gaze. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice softer than usual. “But it’s always better watching with someone who’s just as into it.”

Eventually, sleepless night caught up with you, and your eyelids grew heavy. As you fought to stay awake, your head slowly tilted, finally coming to rest on Ni-ki’s shoulder. You let out a soft sigh, and the tension in your body eased as sleep washed over you.

Ni-ki stilled, watching you as you drifted off, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Gently, he shifted so you were more comfortable against him, his arm wrapping subtly around you to hold you steady. He stayed like that for a long moment, his gaze lingering on your peaceful expression, feeling your warmth beside him.

When he was sure you were fully asleep, his hand moved slowly, almost hesitantly, to brush against your cheek, tracing a light line along the edge of your jaw with the tip of his finger. The dim light cast soft shadows across your face, and he watched, entranced, as his fingertip moved along your skin.

He leaned in, his face mere inches from yours, his breath warm and steady as he stayed close, hovering. His gaze flickered to your slightly parted lips, and for a second, his own breath hitched. The air was thick with an unspoken closeness, and he held that position, suspended between a lingering ache and restraint.

Carefully, he leaned back, settling you more comfortably against him, his hand resting softly on your shoulder as he continued to watch over you, his fingers curling protectively around you.

Ni-ki’s gaze darkened as he continued to watch you, his fingers resting softly on your shoulder. His eyes traced the gentle curve of your neck, and an almost imperceptible smile crossed his lips. He leaned in, his breath warm against your skin as he murmured softly, almost to himself, “Red would look good on you.”

His fingers slid up, tracing the line of your neck. His grip tightened ever so slightly, lingering just enough to feel your pulse under his fingertips, steady and unknowing. He let out a slow breath, as if grounding himself, as his thumb brushed softly against the side of your throat.

For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, caught between something intense and something careful, like he was savoring this quiet moment he had with you. After a second, his fingers relaxed, trailing back down your shoulder in a gentle motion, his gaze softening. He drew in a slow breath and finally leaned back, keeping you close but releasing the subtle tension in his touch.

He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have you truly his, for you to look up at him with trust, completely unaware of the thoughts running through his mind. For now, though, he was content to simply stay by your side, holding you in the quiet of the night.

Ni-ki rose slowly, careful not to disturb you as he scooped you up in his arms. You stirred, blinking sleepily as he carried you toward the bedroom, but he gently hushed you, his voice soft and reassuring. "Shh… just sleep." You let out a quiet hum, drifting back into sleep as he placed you on the bed, pulling the blanket over you.

Once you were settled, he crouched beside the bed, his gaze intense as he took you in, his arms resting on the mattress as he leaned closer. Slowly, his hand reached out, thumb brushing gently over your bottom lip, tracing its softness, almost reverent. He caught himself lingering, letting his fingers ghost across your cheek, as if memorizing every line and curve of your face.

With you here, looking so serene, he could almost pretend to feel peace, like a balm against the darkness that usually gripped him. There was something about you—something that stilled the turbulence in his mind, turning the razor-edged thoughts of violence into something softer, more possessive. Yet, deep down, he knew: if you ever found out who he truly was, you would recoil, flee, maybe even scream. The thought unsettled him. And he couldn’t allow it.

But that was fine, he decided, his hand lingering on your cheek. You would be his. No matter what it took, he would find a way to make you understand, to make you stay, even if he had to teach you how to love him. If it came to that, he could handle it. He would mold you to be his, through your resistance, your fear—until all that was left was the love he craved from you.

Leaning forward, he whispered, almost to himself, "You'll come to love me… just wait."

Ni-ki stood for a long moment at your bedside, watching as you slept, peaceful and unaware of the thoughts circling in his mind. Finally, he straightened, brushing his fingers over the blanket one last time before he slipped out of the room. Quietly, he closed the door behind him, sealing you safely inside as he moved toward his own room.

Once there, he pulled a black bag from beneath his bed, checking its contents with practiced ease. With a final look around, he slung it over his shoulder and left the apartment, locking the door behind him. Outside, the air was cool, and the streets were veiled in a soft hush of night, faintly lit by scattered streetlights.

He walked with a steady stride, blending into the shadows as if they welcomed him. His mind was calm, sharp, each step carrying him forward with a chilling sense of purpose. There was nothing to fear out here. No shadows lurking around corners or dangers in the quiet alleys.

Why would he worry?

--

Days passed, and you started noticing that Jiung seemed increasingly interested in following up on his offer for a date. Every time you ran into him, he would smile a bit wider, his eyes hopeful as he casually asked if you’d made up your mind. His persistence was endearing, and yet… your answer was still unsure, hovering in your mind.

Meanwhile, your time with Ni-ki only grew, filling the quiet corners of your routine with an unexpected ease. He was becoming a fixture in your days, almost as though he’d always been there. You’d find him at your door some evenings, asking if he could join you for whatever crime show you were watching, his attention firmly on you as the plot unraveled on the screen.

He rarely shared much about himself, but you didn’t mind. It felt natural, sitting side by side, sometimes letting your head rest on his shoulder as you got lost in the suspense. Occasionally, he would make small comments on the case, his voice low, adding details you hadn’t noticed.

Then there were the times you’d spend in his apartment, which felt equally familiar now. You’d find yourself leaning over his shoulder, challenging him in games as he let out a soft laugh, relaxed and genuinely happy.

Laughter filled Ni-ki’s room as you clutched the game controller, triumphantly beating him for the third time in a row. Ni-ki groaned, his face caught between frustration and amusement as he asked, “How do you keep winning? Seriously!”

You shrugged, smirking as you teased, “Maybe you’re just not as good as you think.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not one to take the defeat so easily, and before you knew it, he lunged at you in a playful attack. His hands found your sides, mercilessly tickling you as you shrieked, squirming to escape his grip.

“Ni-ki—stop!” you managed between laughs, trying to push him off, but he only grinned, enjoying his victory as he held you down on the bed. Your laughter eventually softened, leaving a warm silence between you as the two of you lay there, his face hovering close to yours.

His breathing slowed, and as he gazed at you, the teasing glint in his eyes softened into something deeper. You could feel your heartbeat quicken as his gaze drifted down to your lips, and without a word, you found yourself leaning into the moment, mirroring his movement.

Slowly, his lips met yours, gentle and cautious at first, as though testing the connection. But the kiss quickly grew deeper, more intense, stealing the air from your lungs as you returned it, feeling a sense of warmth and closeness you hadn’t expected. For a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fall away.

To Ni-ki, this was both heaven and torment. Having you so close, feeling the softness of your lips against his—it was everything he’d wanted and yet, in some ways, so agonizingly out of reach. He ached for more, for all of you, yet held himself back, savoring every second with a longing that made his heart pound.

The kiss lingered, soft yet fervent, as if neither of you wanted to pull away. When you finally did, it was only because you both needed to catch your breath, your faces still close, foreheads nearly touching as you shared a quiet smile.

Ni-ki’s hand brushed along your cheek, his thumb tracing soft circles as he looked at you, a warmth in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. The tension between you was thick, yet comfortable, like something long-awaited that had finally fallen into place.

“Didn’t expect that, did you?” he murmured, his voice a soft tease, though you could hear the tremor of excitement there.

You shook your head, a bit breathless, your own heart still racing. “No… but I’m not complaining.”

His lips curled into a smile. “Good.”

Without waiting, Ni-ki leaned in, closing the small gap between you once more. His lips met yours with a deeper, more assured warmth, as if he was savoring each second, each soft touch.

This kiss was different—more intense, more deliberate, and you found yourself melting into him, your arms slipping around his neck to pull him closer. He responded eagerly, his hand moving to rest on your waist, holding you against him as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.

Just as the kiss deepened, your phone buzzed, cutting through the perfect moment. Reluctantly, you pulled back, a bit breathless, and glanced at the screen. It was your boss.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you whispered, and Ni-ki nodded, though you noticed a faint flicker of annoyance in his eyes.

Answering the call, you heard your boss’s familiar voice sounding slightly frantic. “Hey, sorry to call last minute, but we’re understaffed tonight. Any chance you could come in for a bit?”

You hesitated, ready to turn him down, but then he added, “I’ll pay double for the overtime.”

You bit your lip, considering it. Rent was due soon, and you were already running a little behind. “Alright,” you finally said with a sigh. “I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

Ending the call, you looked at Ni-ki apologetically. “I have to go to work… They’re understaffed.”

He shrugged, though you sensed the tension just beneath his relaxed expression. “No worries. We’ll pick this up another time.”

With a quick goodbye, you grabbed your bag, left the apartment, and hurried down the stairs, thinking about the night ahead. You didn’t see the way Ni-ki’s expression hardened the moment you were gone, his eyes narrowing at the door, simmering with anger at the interruption.

Your shift stretched far longer than expected, the minutes slipping by until hours had passed. By the time you finally finished work, the streets were dark, only dim streetlights casting long shadows over the quiet city. Your fingers clenched tightly around your keys, each small noise setting your nerves on edge. As you walked past a dark alleyway, a faint, agonized moan caught your attention. You paused, heart pounding as you peered into the murky darkness. Shadows seemed to shift against the brick walls, making you question if your mind was simply playing tricks.

Then, abruptly, a shoe flew out of the darkness and landed at your feet. The pale glow of the nearby streetlight barely illuminated it, but it was unmistakably there, lying askew on the cold pavement. You froze, glancing around, but the street was empty. No one else was around.

Taking a steadying breath, you stepped into the alley, clutching your keys with knuckles white. As you walked past the shoe, each step carried you deeper into the shadows, your breath shallow with dread. Just a few paces in, you saw it.

There, sprawled across the grimy ground, lay Jiung, his skin pale, eyes half-lidded with pain. Blood soaked his shirt, dark and spreading from multiple stab wounds across his abdomen. His breaths came in shallow, desperate gasps.

“Jiung…” you whispered, dropping to your knees beside him, voice shaking with panic as you scrambled to pull out your phone. You pressed one hand against his wounds, trying to staunch the bleeding, feeling the warmth of his blood seeping through your fingers.

“I’ll call for help,” you assured him, barely holding back tears as you dialed for an ambulance with a trembling hand.

But then, a chilling sensation ran down your spine. You felt the weight of a presence behind you, like ice settling in your veins. Slowly, you looked over your shoulder—and saw a tall shadow standing at the entrance to the alleyway. The streetlight behind them cast their face into darkness, but there was something menacing in their stance, the way they loomed over you and Jiung.

In a flash of movement, Jiung pushed himself up with a guttural scream, lunging toward the figure despite his injuries. “Run!” he cried, voice raspy with desperation as he collided with the attacker, buying you precious seconds to escape.

Heart hammering, you didn’t waste a moment. You turned and sprinted out of the alley, Jiung’s shout echoing in your ears. You didn’t dare look back, but the pounding of footsteps behind you pushed you faster as you bolted down the street, breath catching in your throat.

“Help!” you screamed, hoping, praying someone would hear. But the quiet streets remained desolate, and all you could do was keep running as the footsteps behind you grew closer, each one filling you with a terror you’d never known before.

The sound of heavy footsteps grew louder, and before you could take another step, a gloved hand shot out from behind you, silencing your scream as another arm snaked around your torso, pinning your arms to your sides. Panic surged through you, and you squirmed, trying to break free, but his grip was iron, unyielding.

Then you felt the cold press of a knife’s edge against your throat, sharp and threatening, making your breath hitch as fear flooded your veins.

"Where are you running off to in such a hurry, doll?" deep, gravelly voice purred in your ear. The words sent a shiver of fear racing down your spine. His breath was hot against your skin as he held you impossibly close, his grip tightening.

You froze, every nerve paralyzed in his grip as he kept you close, his body pressing against yours to ensure you couldn’t break away. The gloved hand over your mouth stifled any sound, leaving you helpless, trapped in his grasp.

"That's it," he continued, his voice almost a whisper but laced with malice, "be a good girl and don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

You held your breath, every muscle tensed, but he only chuckled, his tone shifting to something almost playful, his lips inches from your ear. “You know… you could’ve ignored it, kept on walking home like a smart little thing.” He tilted his head, sounding almost regretful, though the teasing edge to his words betrayed his satisfaction. “But no, you just had to be the hero. Couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

He let out a soft, taunting hum, as though savoring the moment. “Admit it,” he said, his tone slipping into something disturbingly flirty, almost tender. "You liked the thrill, didn’t you? The danger of getting a little too close…”

Your mind raced, desperately searching for some way to escape, but his grip tightened, pressing the blade just a fraction closer, enough to remind you how easily he could hurt you.

Summoning every ounce of courage, you jerked your head back, surprising him for an instant as you managed to shift just enough for your foot to slam down on his. He grunted, his hold loosening slightly, and you seized the opportunity, twisting out of his grasp as you stumbled forward, barely managing to break free.

With adrenaline surging, you started to run again, praying you could get far enough before he caught up once more.

Your heart raced as you stumbled onto the open street, glancing back to see the shadowy figure still gaining on you. But just as hope seemed to fade, you spotted two police officers rounding a corner up ahead. Relief surged through you, and you screamed, “Help! He’s right behind me!”

Hearing the desperation in your voice, both officers turned immediately. At the sight of them, your pursuer halted, cursed under his breath, and bolted in the opposite direction. One officer shot a quick look your way before sprinting down the street after him, while the other rushed to your side, her eyes filled with concern as she gently placed a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” she reassured, keeping her voice calm. “Take deep breaths for me, alright? Tell me what happened.”

Gasping for air, you struggled to relay what had occurred. “There’s… there’s a victim in the alleyway,” you managed between breaths. “He’s hurt badly… please, he needs help.”

The officer’s expression turned grim as she quickly radioed the situation, calling for another police unit and an ambulance to head to the location immediately. She stayed with you, grounding you as you both waited, her presence steady and comforting.

Moments later, her radio crackled to life, and a voice came through. “We’ve located the victim. Ambulance is on the way—he’s alive. Repeat, the victim is alive and en route to the hospital.”

A wave of relief washed over you at the news. Jiung was still alive. The weight of it hit you, and a smile of sheer gratitude flickered on your face, even as exhaustion threatened to pull you under.

Not long after, the other officer returned, breathing heavily, a frustrated look on his face. “I lost him,” he admitted, shaking his head. “He knew these streets too well… slipped into a maze of alleys. But we’ll catch him.”

The officer looked at you with a soft, reassuring gaze. “Would you be willing to come down to the station and give a witness report?”

You nodded, feeling a sense of duty but also the weight of the night’s events. They guided you into the police cruiser, and the short drive to the station was filled with a comforting silence. Once there, you filled out the report, recounting every detail you could remember. When it was over, the officer who had helped you before offered to drive you home.

You thanked her sincerely as you stepped out of the car in front of your building, exhaustion tugging at every limb. “Thank you… for everything,” you said, meeting her kind gaze.

“No need to thank me; just take care of yourself. Call if you remember anything else.”

You nodded, feeling the night’s intensity fade as you finally stepped into the familiar, quiet space of your apartment. You took a deep breath and pulled out your phone, sending Jiung a message, asking him to let you know as soon as he was well enough to reply.

After a hot shower, you felt slightly more grounded. You sat on the couch, flipping through channels until a horror movie caught your eye. Something about the way the killer on-screen moved in relentless pursuit of his victim made your pulse quicken. You’d just been in a scene like this, and yet… as you watched the screen, a dark thrill crept into your thoughts.

You shifted uncomfortably as the killer on-screen cornered his next victim, remembering what it felt like to be hunted down, to feel the darkness creeping in, to hear that voice whispering things you hadn’t wanted to admit. The words echoed in your mind—“Admit it. You like this. You like the fear.” You shook your head, trying to push the thoughts away, but it was like they had a grip on you now. You couldn’t help but admit that there was something unsettlingly captivating about the chase, about the fear.

You tried to push the unsettling thoughts away—tried to focus on the killer on the screen, how methodical and cold they were, but the feeling of being hunted, being chased, was all too real. The way the killer's footsteps echoed in the victim’s ears, how their every breath seemed to be more desperate, more frantic—the adrenaline that had coursed through you earlier in the night crept back up, making your pulse quicken.

Your eyes slowly drifted to the door. The thought of being alone here, in the dark, made your heart race. You wrapped your arms around your knees, pulling them tightly to your chest.

Suddenly, the phone buzzed in your pocket, snapping you out of your trance. You pulled it out quickly, half-expecting the worst, but it was just a message from Jiung.

“I’m okay. I made it through surgery, just need some rest. Thanks for being there tonight. I owe you one.”

A flood of relief rushed over you, and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You typed back quickly, “I’m glad you’re okay. Take care of yourself. I’m here if you need anything.” It wasn’t much, but it felt like the right thing to say.

You dropped your phone beside you on the couch, and the movie continued to play in the background, but now you couldn’t stop thinking about the killer—the way they moved with such confidence, with such control. You wondered if you had been a part of some twisted game, a part of something you couldn’t even begin to understand.

You rubbed your eyes, feeling exhaustion from the long day, but the unease wouldn’t let go. Maybe you didn’t need to be scared. Maybe it was just a nightmare that you’d wake up from. But deep down, you knew that something about tonight had changed you. It wasn’t just the danger, but the feeling of the chase, the adrenaline, and the way you couldn’t help but wonder if you'd somehow enjoyed it.

The thought made you shiver, but there was no denying it. And in that moment, as you sat there, you couldn’t help but think—maybe you’d never be the same again.

The familiar sound of Ni-ki’s door opening caused a shiver to run down your spine. It was a noise you’d come to recognize, and as soon as you heard it, your body stiffened, a strange feeling pulling at your chest. You couldn’t explain it, but it was as if something in you needed him, needed to feel his presence.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was just the nerves from the night still lingering, but then you felt that push—an overwhelming urge to reach out. Without fully thinking it through, you grabbed your phone and sent a quick message to him: "Can you come over?"

The ping came almost instantly from next door, and for a moment, all you could hear was the sound of your heartbeat, loud in your ears. Then, it fell quiet again.

You stared at your screen, watching the message go from "Sent" to "Read." Your heart beat a little faster, your pulse quickening in anticipation.

Then the sound of footsteps. Heavy and deliberate. You watched the time, and in the span of a few seconds, Ni-ki's door opened, then closed softly. You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what was about to happen.

There were two sharp knocks on your door, and your stomach fluttered.

You opened it quickly, not wanting to second-guess yourself. The moment the door cracked, you rushed forward, pulling him into a tight hug. His warmth and the familiar scent of him enveloped you, and you couldn’t help but hold on a little tighter than you meant to.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low but filled with concern.

His body was solid against yours, his warmth comforting in the wake of everything that had happened. But after a few moments, his hands gently cupped your shoulders, pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes scanning your face with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

“What happened?” he asked softly, his voice low, the tenderness in his words making your heart ache a little.

You didn’t answer immediately, not wanting to let go of him just yet. You squeezed your eyes shut and clung to him for a little longer, trying to steady yourself. When you finally opened your eyes, you pulled away just enough to hold him at arm’s length, feeling that strange mix of relief and uncertainty washing over you. You could feel the flutter of anxiety in your stomach, but you knew you had to say something.

"Can we sit down?" you asked, your voice soft and almost pleading, your fingers still gripping his shirt tightly. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, the lingering fear from earlier making it difficult to fully focus on anything other than the sound of your own heartbeat.

Without a word, Ni-ki nodded and allowed you to lead him to the couch. As you both sat down, you could feel him sitting closer than usual, his presence a constant comfort, but his eyes were still searching your face. It made you feel exposed, like there was something about you he could see, something you were trying to hide.

You turned to face him, the weight of everything rushing back now that you had a moment to think. “There was... there was someone in the alley. I—" you stammered, suddenly feeling the weight of the night’s events pushing down on you. You took a deep breath, gathering your words. "I found Jiung... he was... he was stabbed. And then..." Your voice broke for a second as you swallowed hard, the image of Jiung on the ground, bleeding, still so fresh in your mind.

Ni-ki’s eyes didn’t leave you, and his gaze softened, his hand reaching out instinctively to touch yours. His thumb gently traced your knuckles, the touch grounding you. He didn’t interrupt you, just silently waiting for you to finish, allowing you to speak in your own time.

"And then I—" You felt yourself faltering, but you pushed through. "I heard him. The person. He... he came after me." The memory of his grip, the way he whispered to you, the coldness of the blade against your throat, made your chest tighten. You shuddered involuntarily, your hands tightening around Ni-ki’s.

“But then the police came. They helped me. And Jiung... he’s alive.” Your voice shook with relief, but there was still something raw in your tone. “But I couldn’t shake it, Ni-ki. I keep thinking about it, feeling like he’s still out there.”

Ni-ki’s jaw tightened as he listened, his eyes focused on you with an intensity that made you feel both comforted and exposed. He didn’t speak for a moment, just leaned closer, his face softening. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said quietly.

You nodded slowly, trying to shake the images of the night from your mind. You had always found it hard to be vulnerable, but with Ni-ki, it was easier to just let go of the walls.

“Thank you for coming,” you murmured, looking up at him. "I... I needed someone. And I didn’t know who else to call."

Ni-ki smiled, though it was laced with something deeper—something you couldn’t quite place. His hand gently squeezed yours. “I’ll be here as long as you want me to be.”

His words melted some of the tension still lingering in your chest, and for a brief moment, you felt like you could breathe easier. You leaned back into the couch, your body relaxing just a fraction, but you didn’t let go of his hand.

You picked up the remote from the side table and hit play on the movie you’d paused earlier. The flickering of the TV screen and the eerie music of the horror film filled the silence, but it didn’t feel as suffocating now that Ni-ki was here with you.

As the movie played on, the tension in the room grew, thickening with every chase scene. You could feel your body reacting even before the first footstep of the pursuer echoed across the screen. Your eyes narrowed in, focused entirely on the characters as the camera swiveled between the running victim and the shadowed killer. Every time the chase escalated, your breath would hitch, your shoulders tightening with the anticipation of what was to come next.

When the killer finally caught up to the victim, you couldn’t help but shiver. The chase scenes felt too real, too close to what you had experienced just hours ago. The grip of the knife, the feeling of running, your breath coming faster as you tried to escape—it all flooded back in an instant, and your body involuntarily tensed. You clenched your fists in your lap, trying to steady yourself as the screen flickered with flashes of horror.

Unbeknownst to you, Ni-ki was watching intently, his eyes trained on your every reaction. He could see how your breath quickened, how your body stiffened with each passing moment, how the fear from the movie bled into your own memories. The way your hands trembled slightly, the way you seemed to draw closer to him when the killer gained on the victim.

His gaze deepened with satisfaction. He could see how easily the thrill of the chase consumed you. How, despite the terror, there was something almost addictive about it—the danger, the vulnerability, the adrenaline. And it stirred something inside of him, a dark thought that he couldn’t ignore.

He watched you carefully, a small, pleased smile tugging at the corner of his lips as you flinched at every tense moment. He knew this feeling—he could feel it, too. The hunt, the chase, the thrill of bringing someone to the edge of fear. You’d experienced it in the alley, running from him, and now, you were reliving it through the film. But he could tell there was more to you than just fear. You liked it. You liked the adrenaline.

Ni-ki’s hand slowly shifted towards you, resting just near your knee, not touching yet, but close enough to sense your tension. His thumb twitched, as if he could feel the currents of your unease, of your suppressed excitement. He knew you weren’t just scared. You were drawn to it, to the rush of being pursued, to the danger.

He was sure of it now—he could make you understand. He could shape you, mold you to match his world. All he had to do was push you far enough, make you see the thrill the way he did. He’d show you how to embrace it, how to live for the chase, to revel in the fear, to become a part of it—just like him.

And no one would stand in his way.

Not Jiung. Not anyone.

He’d take care of the loose ends soon enough, with that same meticulous care. Just as he had with so many others. But you—you—would be his masterpiece. He would make sure of it.

His fingers brushed lightly against your leg, just enough to make you flinch, but not enough to pull you out of the movie. And as the next chase scene unfolded on the screen, Ni-ki smiled to himself, savoring the moment.

He could tell you were deep in your thoughts, processing the fear, but also something else—something beneath the surface. You were on edge, yet you didn’t pull away. You were still here, still sitting with him. That pleased him more than you could know.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze softening as he took in the way you gripped the couch, the way your body tensed with every dramatic moment. He noticed the little things—how you took a sharp breath when the victim almost got caught, how your eyes widened in brief anticipation, but you didn’t look away.

“You okay?” Ni-ki asked casually, breaking the silence, his voice soft yet filled with a certain curiosity. His tone seemed almost too casual for what he was observing, but it made you snap back to reality.

You nodded quickly, forcing a small, reassuring smile, though the flicker of unease still danced in your eyes. “Yeah, just… wasn’t expecting a movie like this.”

He chuckled, a low sound, and leaned back against the couch, stretching his legs out in front of him. “I get it,” he said, the words carrying a gentle teasing quality. “But you seem to be handling it well.”

You looked over at him, unsure of what he meant, but his eyes were fixed on the screen now, and you couldn't quite read his expression.

"Thanks for staying," you said quietly, the words slipping out before you could think to stop them.

“Of course," he replied, glancing at you briefly, his smile soft. "I’m not going anywhere.”

By the time the movie ended, the adrenaline had faded, and the room felt quieter, and you found yourself leaning back into the couch, your body finally starting to relax.

Ni-ki turned to you, his expression unreadable but his presence still comforting. “Feel better?”

You nodded, your smile small but genuine. “Yeah, I do. Thanks for being here."

He gave a small nod, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he looked away. "Anytime," he said softly, the words hanging in the air between you.

--

The sunlight filtered softly through the blinds as you slowly awoke, groggily blinking as you tried to get your bearings. The familiar warmth of the couch wrapped around you, but as your eyes adjusted, you realized that the person who had kept you company the night before—Ni-ki—was no longer beside you. The spot on the couch where he’d been was empty, and the space next to you felt cold in comparison.

You groaned, sitting up and stretching. You must've dozed off again after the movie had ended. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep until you woke up now, all tangled in the blanket.

Shaking off the remnants of sleep, you stood up, ran through your usual morning routine, and gathered your things. You quickly dressed, brushed your hair, and splashed some water on your face to wake yourself up more fully. There was a lot to do today.

After grabbing a quick bite, you made your way to the hospital. Jiung had been transferred there after the attack, and you were eager to see how he was doing. As soon as you entered his room, you saw him sitting up in bed, looking far better than you expected after the ordeal.

He smiled weakly when he saw you, though there was still a tinge of pain in his eyes. “Hey, you came. I’m so glad to see you.”

You smiled back, your heart lightening at the sight of him doing so much better. “Of course, Jiung. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he replied, shifting to make himself more comfortable. “The doctors said I’ll be fine to go home in a couple of days. Just need to rest a bit more.”

“That’s great news,” you said, relieved. You sat down beside his bed, glad to see he was recovering well.

Jiung paused, looking at you with an almost hesitant expression. “Hey, I was thinking… once I’m out of here, maybe we could go grab a coffee or something? I know you are still thinking.”

You hesitated, glancing down at your hands for a moment. It was clear that Jiung had more than just friendship in mind, and you didn’t want to hurt him. But you also needed to be honest with him.

“Jiung…” you started softly, meeting his eyes. “I think you’re great, but I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and I see you as a friend. I’m actually interested in someone else.”

His face softened, but there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes. He gave a small nod, though, his smile never quite fading. “I understand. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a girlfriend.”

You gave him a gentle smile in return, feeling a pang of guilt, but also relief at having been honest with him. “Thank you for understanding, Jiung. You’re a really good person, and I’m glad we’re friends.”

“I’m glad we’re friends, too,” he said, his voice steady despite the slight sadness in it. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will. And you get better, alright?” you replied, giving him a small wave as you stood up to leave.

After your visit, you made your way to work, your thoughts still lingering on the conversation with Jiung. As much as it had been the right thing to do, it didn’t make it any easier. You focused on your tasks at work, trying to push the lingering thoughts aside and focus on the tasks at hand. It was a long shift, but at least it gave you a break from the emotional weight of everything that had happened lately.

The evening had crept up on you faster than you expected. The time spent with your friends at the mall was a welcome distraction, but as the sky darkened, the familiar unease from earlier in the week began to creep back. You said your goodbyes, as they headed in different directions, and made your way to your car, feeling the weight of the day on your shoulders.

You climbed into your car, started the engine, and drove home, your mind preoccupied. The streets were relatively quiet, the rush of the city settling down as night enveloped everything in shadows. A part of you felt relieved to be heading back to your apartment, but another part felt uneasy. The events of the past few days—the attack on Jiung, the strange tension with Ni-ki—lingered in your thoughts, gnawing at the back of your mind.

Once you parked your car and grabbed your shopping bag from the back seat, you stepped out, pulling the door shut with a soft click. The air was crisp, a cool breeze brushing against your face as you locked the car and started walking toward your apartment. The familiar sounds of the street felt oddly distant, almost muffled by the growing darkness.

Your senses felt more alert than usual, and you quickened your pace, the soft click of your shoes against the pavement echoing in the quiet evening. Something about tonight felt off, the air thick with an unspoken tension that you couldn’t quite place. Every shadow seemed to stretch longer, every flicker of movement felt like a warning.

You glanced over your shoulder, but the street behind you remained empty. Still, the unease gnawed at you.

Maybe it’s nothing, you thought to yourself, trying to shake off the feeling, but it didn’t help. You picked up your pace again, hands clutching your shopping bag a little tighter. The streetlights above flickered intermittently, casting long shadows across the pavement.

As you neared your apartment building, you paused for just a second, glancing up at your door. Everything appeared normal, yet the feeling of being watched was inescapable. You exhaled slowly, trying to calm your racing heart, and told yourself it was just your mind playing tricks.

But then you heard something.

A sound behind you. A shuffle of footsteps.

Your head snapped around, but the street was still empty. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you stood there for a moment, frozen in place. The wind rustled the leaves nearby, but that was the only noise in the air.

You couldn’t shake the feeling of being followed.

Just get inside, you urged yourself, turning back toward the door of your building. You fumbled with your keys, your fingers cold and unsteady as you slid the key into the lock. The sound of footsteps drew closer, and just as you pushed the door open, a voice, low and unfamiliar, echoed from behind you.

“You’re not alone tonight.”

Your heart stopped. The hairs on your neck prickled with fear.

Before you could turn around, a gloved hand rested against the door, pushing it slightly back into its frame, and you were pulled backward.

The moment you were pulled into the alleyway, the cold grip of fear clamped down on your chest. You were yanked roughly, stumbling over your own feet, and before you could even think to scream, a gloved hand pressed tightly over your mouth, stifling any sound. The sharp edge of a knife was placed at your throat, just enough to make you feel the cold metal against your skin, but not yet enough to break it.

"You're lucky I let you live after you interfered last time," the man muttered, his voice low and cold, as if every word was carefully measured. "But… I guess I’ll forgive you. After all, it’s not your fault you got in the way. Just another mistake. But don’t worry, I’ll finish what I started."

He pressed the knife a little harder into your side, making you wince, and his voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. "You won’t stop me this time."

Your eyes darted to the alley’s entrance, and you tried to struggle against his grip, but his hand on your mouth only tightened, and the blade felt like it could pierce your skin with the slightest movement. Panic surged through you, but before you could react further, you heard something.

Footsteps. The faint sound of boots hitting pavement.

You froze.

The man must have heard it too, because his voice turned sharp, a warning whisper. "Stay quiet," he hissed. "If you make a sound, I’ll finish it right here."

Your breath caught in your throat as three police officers walked into view, their figures passing by the alley’s opening. The sounds of their conversation blended with the quiet night, but they didn’t seem to notice the two of you hidden in the shadows.

Your heart hammered in your chest as they came closer, their uniforms barely visible in the low light, the soft murmur of their voices floating into the alley. You dared not move a muscle, barely able to breathe, as you felt the pressure of the knife against your side.

The man’s grip on you tightened, forcing you to stand still, and you could feel the pulse of fear racing through your veins. Your eyes stayed locked on the officers, willing them to see you, to help, but they kept walking past without a second glance. Their conversation faded, and just like that, they were gone, leaving nothing but silence behind.

The man’s grip on you was relentless, pressing you deeper into the shadows. But in that brief, fleeting moment, you found your opening.

His hold slackened just enough, his focus momentarily distracted by the fading sound of the officers’ footsteps. His attention turned slightly to make sure they had truly gone, just long enough for you to summon the courage to move.

With a burst of adrenaline, you jerked your body to the side, slipping out of his grasp. Your heart pounded in your ears as you darted forward, legs propelling you as fast as they could carry you. The alley seemed to stretch endlessly in front of you, and with every step, the fear that gripped your chest pushed you further, faster.

You didn’t look back—couldn’t afford to—but you heard the sound of his footsteps pounding behind you, growing louder. He was coming after you. His breath was ragged, but there was no mercy in his pursuit, only the promise of violence. The sound of his pursuit echoed down the narrow alley, each step closer to your heels making your breath come quicker, your legs feel weaker.

You turned a corner, hoping to lose him, but the streets around you were eerily empty, void of the people you so desperately needed. The streetlights flickered weakly, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly, making you feel as though the darkness was swallowing you whole.

There was no one. No one to help you. No one to witness your struggle.

You tried to scream, but your voice was caught in your throat, choking on your fear. Every alley you passed was as desolate as the last, every street devoid of life. The city seemed to hold its breath as you ran, its silence mocking your desperate escape.

Your legs burned, your lungs screamed for air, but you didn’t dare stop. If you did, he would catch you. And the thought of what he would do made your skin crawl, your heart race even faster.

But then, you heard it. His footsteps were louder now, more insistent. He was gaining on you. The realization hit you like a wave—you weren’t going to outrun him.

Desperation set in as you searched for any place to hide, any escape, but the streets stretched on endlessly, the buildings looming on either side like dark sentinels. The only sound that filled the air was your frantic breathing and the thudding of your own heartbeat.

You had to think. You had to survive.

You pushed yourself harder, heart hammering in your chest as you darted through another narrow alley. Desperation clawed at your throat, but somehow, you found an abandoned dumpster in the corner of the alley, its shadow deep and offering a small sliver of cover.

With trembling hands, you crouched behind it, pulling your legs close to your chest, trying to quiet your frantic breathing. You held your breath, praying that he wouldn’t hear you or see you. The night felt suffocating, the dark streets now your only allies.

You pressed yourself against the cold, gritty wall of the alley, the rough surface scraping your skin as you slowly peeked out, just enough to see him.

The man was standing a few feet away, his head shifting left and right, scanning the area. He was looking for you—searching for you, and every passing moment felt like an eternity. The way he moved, his body tense, the way his eyes narrowed behind the mask, told you that he was intent on finding you.

He was tall, lean, and wore a baggy jacket with the hood pulled low over his head, casting his features in shadow. His jeans hung loosely around his waist, the fabric almost swallowing his legs. A mask covered his mouth, hiding his expression, but you could see the sharpness of his eyes, cold and calculating as they swept over the alley.

You held your breath again, not daring to move a muscle. The air felt thick, and the sound of his footsteps seemed impossibly loud as he stepped closer to where you were hiding. You could hear him muttering under his breath, a low, almost inaudible grumble of frustration as he searched. He was so close now, standing right in the spot where you had just been moments before.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you forced yourself to stay still, not even daring to blink. If you moved, if he saw you… you didn’t want to think about what would happen. The fear that gripped your throat made it hard to breathe, but you didn’t dare exhale too loudly.

The man stepped closer again, his body tensing, clearly aware that you were near. You could see the muscles in his arms flexing beneath the fabric of his jacket, his hands twitching near the knife in his pocket. His breathing was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring the hunt.

You swallowed hard, your entire body on edge. It felt like the world had stopped, the only thing in motion was him, his every movement calculated, methodical.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, he stepped back, his head turning as if he had sensed something—or maybe it was just the cold night playing tricks on him. His eyes scanned the surrounding area once more, and for a moment, you thought he might give up.

You knew, the moment you moved, he would be on you. You just had to wait, to let him think he’d missed you. Just a little longer, just enough time for you to figure out your next move.

You waited, heart racing, every muscle in your body tensed, when the man who had been stalking you suddenly vanished into the shadows. The air felt thick with suspense, the silence almost deafening as you kept your eyes trained on the dark alleyway, afraid to make a move just yet.

It wasn’t until several minutes later that you finally saw why he’d left. A tall, broad-shouldered man appeared at the mouth of the alleyway, his gait confident and purposeful. You recognized him instantly—the owner of the laundromat a few blocks over. His muscular build and rough demeanor made him hard to miss. He was the type who could take care of himself, the type you’d want by your side if trouble were brewing. He strolled past the alley, seemingly unaware of the danger that had been lurking just moments before.

Taking the opportunity, you slowly began to step out of your hiding place, keeping your movements as quiet and fluid as possible. With the laundromat owner walking ahead, you kept a few steps behind him, grateful for the presence of someone who seemed safe, someone who might be the buffer between you and whatever danger had been stalking you just minutes before.

As you walked, you couldn’t shake the eerie feeling of being watched, that prickling sensation creeping up your spine. Your eyes darted over your shoulder, searching the dark streets. But there was no one. Still, the unsettling feeling lingered like a shadow that wouldn’t let go.

You turned back around and quickened your pace, staying close to the laundromat owner. The walk back to your apartment felt like it took forever. Every turn, every creak in the distance, made your heart pound faster. You refused to look back again, forcing yourself to focus on getting to the safety of your apartment.

The moment you reached your building, you breathed a sigh of relief. The door to the apartment building seemed like a small fortress in that moment. You glanced once more over your shoulder—nothing. But the nagging sensation that something, someone, was still watching you refused to let go.

You hurried up the stairs to your apartment, not bothering to check the other floors, not caring who might be around. Your only priority was getting inside, locking the door, and sealing yourself off from whatever it was that was chasing you—whether it was the man in the alley or the dark thoughts you tried to push away.

As you entered your apartment, you locked the door behind you, breathing heavily. You walked to your room, closing the door with a soft click, and pressed your back against it for a moment. Your hands were trembling as you looked around your room.

But even in the safety of your room, the adrenaline still buzzed in your veins. The fear hadn’t fully dissipated, but something else had settled into the pit of your stomach. It wasn’t just fear anymore—it was an unsettling sense of anticipation. A craving that you couldn’t name, a feeling that made your skin tingle and your breath quicken, not from fear this time, but something else. Something darker.

The feeling grew, gnawing at you from the inside. You pushed it down, told yourself to focus, to get some sleep, to let go of the rush. But deep inside, you knew what it was.

It was the thrill. The addiction to it. The way your body had reacted to the chase, the near escape, the uncertainty of what might happen next.

You shook your head, trying to clear the thoughts, telling yourself to stop. It was a dangerous game to play with such thoughts. But in the back of your mind, a voice whispered that you would never be able to stop craving it.

That night, as you lay in your bed, the exhaustion from the long day weighed heavily on your body. The adrenaline from the events earlier had faded, leaving behind a deep, aching tiredness. You pulled the blanket up to your chin, closed your eyes, and let yourself drift into sleep, unaware of the quiet presence watching you.

Just beyond the wall of your room, in the shadows, Ni-ki stood silently, his eyes fixated on the small hole in the wall that gave him an unobstructed view into your room.

He smiled, a dark, satisfied smile. You had no idea how close he was, no idea how much he had watched you tonight, how every move you made—every step you took—had been carefully observed. Even the small crack in the wall had become an entryway for him to see you, to observe you without you knowing. To see you in your most vulnerable state—sleeping, unaware of the danger just beyond your reach.

His fingers traced the edge of the hole, a slow, deliberate movement as he drank in the sight of you. He admired the way you shifted in your sleep, how your body instinctively curled up for warmth, how your lips parted slightly in a soft breath. He knew you didn’t fully understand the danger, didn’t fully comprehend the way he had been keeping watch over you, but that would change.

You had something inside you. Something that made you crave the chaos, the rush, the thrill of danger. He could see it now. He could feel it in the way your body reacted, in the subtle ways you would flinch at the chase scenes on the TV, in the way your heart raced when you were close to danger. You liked it, didn't you? The feeling of being hunted, the rush of barely escaping.

And that was where he had to be patient. He would guide you. Mold you. Shape you into someone who wouldn’t just run from him. No, you’d be by his side, not as a victim, but as someone who wanted to walk this dangerous path with him. It would take time, but he was willing to wait.

As you slept, Ni-ki’s gaze never left you, his heart thumping in quiet anticipation. It wasn’t just the thrill he enjoyed now. It was you.

You had no idea how impressive you were, how far you'd come in such a short amount of time. The way you escaped from his grasp earlier—it had caught him off guard, in a way. The determination in you, the fight, the way you pushed through the fear. It was something he admired, even if you didn’t fully realize the extent of it.

When you managed to slip away from him, when you outwitted him for those few seconds, it ignited something within him. He was impressed—not many could do that. Not many could slip through his fingers like that, especially when he was so close. It wasn't just the thrill of the chase anymore; it was the way you handled it. You were more than just a victim to him now. You were becoming something else—something he wanted more than anything.

The rush he felt watching you run, the adrenaline pulsing through his veins, was addicting. You had that same fire, that same dangerous allure that kept pulling him back in. Your fear, your resistance, even your attempts at fighting back, had only made him more intrigued, more obsessed.

It was clear now—you were no longer just a victim for him to hunt. You were a challenge. A beautiful, unpredictable challenge. And he loved every moment of it.

His fingers grazed the wall as he leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing with focus. You had nearly escaped him, but in doing so, you’d only stoked the flames of his desire to catch you even more. You were strong, quick, and clever. But more than that, you were unpredictable, and that made you more enticing than any victim he had ever encountered.

He could already picture it—the next time you faced him, the next time you ran, the next time you resisted. He’d be ready for it. And this time, he wouldn’t let you go. Not until you fully understood the game.

With a slow, deliberate breath, he pulled himself away from the wall, slipping quietly out of the shadows, his mind already whirring with plans. He would let you think you had control for now, let you think you were escaping him. But soon enough, he’d pull you back in, closer than ever before.

Ni-ki knew the thrill wasn’t just in the chase anymore. The real excitement would come when you finally stopped running—when you embraced the darkness he offered, when you no longer resisted him. That was when he’d truly have you. And when that time came, you would understand. You would want it too.

But for now, he would let you breathe. He would let you think you were free, even though, deep down, you already belonged to him. The pull would only get stronger.

And when you woke in the morning, when you faced the world again, he would be right there, ready to take the next step in bringing you closer to him. Because this wasn’t just about chasing you anymore—it was about claiming you, piece by piece.

He turned away from the wall and quietly left, leaving the hole behind, but his mind was already set on the next move.

Soon enough, you would be his.

--

You had just opened your door, heading out for class, when you froze in your tracks. The road ahead of you was blocked. Someone had left a shopping bag on the ground right in your path, unmistakably familiar. Your breath caught in your throat as you took a step closer, recognizing the bag immediately.

It was the same one you had dropped during your frantic run from the killer, the one you had barely managed to grab before fleeing for your life. How could it possibly be here?

Your heart raced in your chest, and your hands trembled as you reached down to pick it up. As you did, a cold shiver ran down your spine. The weight of it was just as it had been before, and when you peered inside, you saw everything you’d bought from the mall—a few pieces of clothing, makeup, and the lipstick you’d picked out without much thought.

But there was something else, something more unnerving—there was a note. It was attached to the lipstick. You slowly pulled it out, and the moment your eyes fell on the words, your stomach dropped.

“You forgot your bag, doll. I thought I’d return it to you. I’d love to see this shade on your lips next time we meet.”

The words were simple, but the implications were enough to send a chill down your spine. It felt like the note had been written just for you, as if he knew where you’d be, as if he was keeping track of you.

You glanced around the hallway, but there was no sign of anyone, no figure lurking in the shadows. You were completely alone. Still, the presence of that note, the familiarity of his words, left you feeling exposed, vulnerable. He was closer than you realized. He was always watching.

You quickly stuffed the note back into the bag, clutching it tightly as your heart hammered in your chest. But even as you turned to leave, a sinking feeling gnawed at the back of your mind, knowing that every time you tried to move forward, something—someone—was always just one step behind you.

--

Over the next few days, your life seemed to settle into a new rhythm. You spent more time with Ni-ki, and each moment felt different from anything you had experienced before. His presence was comforting, a sense of protection lingering whenever he was near. It wasn’t just the way he would quietly stand watch over you when you were vulnerable, but the subtle ways he made sure you felt safe.

As much as you tried to shake off the unsettling memories of that night, Ni-ki's company made you feel… reassured. The small crush you had once harbored for him began to grow. His calm demeanor, the way he carried himself with confidence, and the way he seemed to understand everything without saying much—it made him irresistible. It was so easy to let your guard down when he was around, even if a small part of you still questioned things you couldn’t quite understand.

Then Jiung came back from the hospital.

The moment he stepped into your apartment, there was an odd tension in the air. He’d been through a lot, and he looked exhausted, but there was something else in his eyes—something darker, a sharpness you hadn’t noticed before. He wasn’t the same since the attack, and maybe it was the trauma or just his protective nature, but when he saw Ni-ki, his demeanor shifted. He greeted you with a tired smile, but his gaze lingered on Ni-ki longer than it should’ve.

You could sense something was off. He seemed distant, colder, and even though he was happy to see you, his eyes kept flicking to Ni-ki, narrowing as if trying to make sense of something.

Later, as you and Jiung were talking, he dropped a bombshell.

“Have you noticed anything strange about him?” Jiung asked, his voice low, guarded.

“Who?” you asked, slightly confused.

“Ni-ki,” he answered, his eyes not meeting yours but focused on the spot where Ni-ki had been sitting earlier. “I’ve been doing some thinking… about all those murders. The ones that happened around the same time he showed up… It’s too much of a coincidence. And the way he’s always around, watching you—something’s off.”

You laughed softly, trying to ease the tension. “Jiung, you’re being paranoid. Ni-ki’s harmless.”

But Jiung didn’t seem convinced. “I’m serious. You’ve been around him a lot, right? Think about it. His timing, his habits… don’t you think it’s strange?”

You shook your head, brushing off the unease creeping into your chest. “You’re crazy. Ni-ki would never hurt anyone. He’s been nothing but nice to me, Jiung. You’re just imagining things.”

Jiung clenched his fists, frustration evident on his face. “I’m not imagining anything! You need to be careful. He’s dangerous. I’m telling you.”

You met his gaze with an exasperated sigh. “I know you’re worried, but Ni-ki isn’t who you think he is. He’s not the bad guy here.” You stood up, trying to change the subject. “Anyway, I’m sure you’re just tired from everything that happened at the hospital. Maybe you should rest.”

Jiung stared at you for a long moment, searching your face for any sign of doubt. But there was none. Finally, he shook his head, as if giving up on convincing you. “I hope you’re right,” he muttered, but the suspicion still lingered in his eyes.

The rest of the conversation was awkward. Despite your assurances, you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right. Jiung’s words had planted a seed of doubt, but you quickly silenced it. Ni-ki had always been kind to you. He was always there when you needed him. He wasn’t dangerous.

Right?

But as the days passed, and you spent more time with Ni-ki, you began to notice small things that didn’t sit right. There were moments when you would catch him looking at you a little too intently, or when his smile would slip into something darker when you weren’t paying attention. The tension from Jiung’s warning kept gnawing at the back of your mind, but each time you saw Ni-ki’s face—calm, patient, understanding—you pushed it aside.

Jiung had to be wrong. He was just being paranoid.

Still, something inside you felt like it was teetering on the edge of something you couldn’t quite grasp.

A few days later, Jiung showed up at your door again. This time, he was holding a manila folder, and the look on his face was grave.

You didn’t want to invite him in, but he didn’t give you much of a choice. As he pushed the door open, you stepped back, arms crossed defensively.

“I’ve got more to show you,” Jiung said, a mix of urgency and frustration in his voice.

“Jiung, I told you already, I don’t want to talk about this,” you said, trying to shut down the conversation before it even started.

But he was insistent, handing you the folder. “Look at this. You need to see it.”

Reluctantly, you opened the folder, your heart racing as you flipped through the papers. They were mostly copies of reports from the police and CCTV footage, but one image caught your eye: it was a grainy shot of Ni-ki walking alone through the streets at night. The image was taken from a security camera, and it was timestamped around the time of one of the murders.

“Jiung, this is just footage of him walking down the street,” you muttered, trying to brush it off.

But Jiung wasn’t backing down. He pointed to another image, a close-up shot of Ni-ki entering a small shop—a shop you knew he worked at. “This is him going to work, isn’t it? You know it is,” Jiung said, his voice tight with tension. “This is where the pattern starts. He’s always around. Always at the right place at the right time.”

You stared at the photo, your mind spinning. You didn’t want to admit it, but the timing was too coincidental. But still, something about it didn’t sit right with you. Ni-ki had always been kind, gentle, and… well, he was your friend. You had to believe that.

“Jiung, please,” you said, your voice pleading. “This isn’t enough. It’s just… it’s a coincidence, okay? Ni-ki is a good guy. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

Jiung’s face hardened. “You’re just ignoring the facts. I’m telling you, you’re in danger. He’s been involved in every single one of these murders, and you’ve been around him. You need to stay away from him before it’s too late.”

You shook your head, frustration bubbling up. “I’ve had enough of this, Jiung. You need to leave.”

You didn’t give him a chance to argue, firmly holding out the folder with the papers he had given you. “Take your stuff and go.”

Jiung looked at you one last time, eyes filled with a mix of hurt and frustration. “I’m just trying to protect you, you know,” he muttered before taking the folder from your hand and walking out the door.

Once he was gone, you locked it behind him, letting out a long sigh of relief. You couldn’t ignore the gnawing feeling in your stomach, though, the small part of you that wondered if maybe Jiung had been right. But then you thought of Ni-ki—his smile, the way he always looked out for you, the way he’d been there for you time and time again.

No. You couldn’t believe it. Ni-ki wasn’t capable of what Jiung accused him of.

You couldn’t let yourself doubt him.

--

You were curled up on the couch with Ni-ki, the soft glow of the TV lighting up the dark room as you both watched a movie. The atmosphere was comfortable, the kind of quiet warmth that made you feel safe with him.

But then, the sound of your doorbell broke the calm.

You groaned, irritated that the moment was being interrupted. As you stood up and made your way to the door, Ni-ki didn't even glance away from the screen, still lounging back on the couch. You opened the door, not expecting much, only to find Jiung standing there. His presence instantly put you on edge.

"Jiung? What are you—"

Before you could finish your sentence, Jiung’s eyes immediately darted past you to the living room, locking onto Ni-ki. There was a brief moment of silence, and you could practically feel the tension building in the air. His discomfort was palpable, his body stiff as he shifted uneasily on his feet.

“I was wondering if you had any more information on the murder,” Jiung asked, his tone direct but strained. “Anything else you might have forgotten to tell the police? Some small detail that could help?”

You blinked in confusion, then sighed. You were so tired of this. The suspicion, the constant questioning—it felt like a weight you couldn’t escape. You could see the doubt in his eyes, and it stung.

“Jiung, I already told you everything,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm but firm.

He didn’t look convinced, his gaze flickering to Ni-ki again, lingering a little too long. Ni-ki, for his part, seemed unaffected, his expression unreadable.

"Well, if you remember anything else—" Jiung started, but you cut him off.

“Look, I really need to go to the bathroom,” you said, your patience wearing thin. “I’ll be back in a minute. Can you just... wait here?”

Jiung nodded, though you could see the worry in his eyes as he glanced at Ni-ki one last time.

You didn’t want to deal with this right now, and as you made your way toward the bathroom, you hoped that maybe Jiung would leave. But just as you reached the door, you heard it. A loud crash, followed by shouts, then the sound of things scattering across the floor.

Your heart skipped a beat. You rushed back toward the living room, and your stomach dropped when you saw what was happening. Ni-ki and Jiung were on the floor, tangled together in a mess of flailing limbs. They were shouting at each other, the aggression in their voices unmistakable.

“Jiung, what the hell—” you gasped.

The two of them were a mess—clothes half-ripped, hair disheveled, and faces already starting to show the marks of their struggle. Ni-ki’s grip on Jiung’s shirt was unforgiving, his knuckles white with the intensity of his hold, while Jiung pushed back with all his might, trying to break free.

The coffee table had been knocked over in the chaos, and your bowl of popcorn lay shattered across the floor, the pieces scattered like a reminder of how quickly things had gone wrong.

“Ni-ki is the killer! Don’t you see it?!” Jiung shouted, his voice hoarse and frantic as he tried to land a punch, but Ni-ki dodged it easily. His voice rang with panic, eyes wide as he looked at you. “You’re protecting him! You don’t know who he is!”

You felt the words cut through you like a knife, your heart pounding in your chest as the truth of what Jiung was accusing sank in. Was it possible? Was Ni-ki really the killer? The one responsible for everything? Your mind raced, but every part of you resisted the thought. You knew Ni-ki—he couldn’t be.

But Jiung’s anger and fear were real. His accusations filled the room like a thick, oppressive fog.

Ni-ki’s expression remained cold, unflinching, despite the heat of the fight. His face was a mask of controlled rage as he twisted Jiung’s shirt tighter. “You don’t know anything,” he growled, his voice low and menacing. “You’re just trying to get a rise out of her.”

Jiung tried to break free, his breath ragged. “You think I’m lying? You think I’m crazy? I saw the patterns, I saw the way he’s always there, after dark. You think that’s a coincidence?!” He shoved Ni-ki with all his strength, causing the two of them to stumble. “You can’t hide it anymore. You’ll slip up, and when you do—”

Ni-ki cut him off, his grip tightening as he shoved Jiung into the wall with a brutal force. “I’m done with you,” he snarled, his voice filled with a chilling finality. “You’ve said your piece. Now, get the hell out of my sight.”

Jiung’s face twisted with frustration as he took in the damage around him—the overturned coffee table, the popcorn on the floor. He seemed to come to a realization then, one you couldn’t quite place, and he stared at Ni-ki one last time with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“You’re the monster,” Jiung spat, his voice trembling. “And she’ll see it too. She’ll figure it out eventually.”

Jiung opened the door, his hands trembling as he stepped out, casting one last glance at you before leaving, his figure disappearing into the hallway.

The room felt unnaturally still after he was gone. The only sounds were your breathing and the faint hum of the air conditioner.

Ni-ki, still standing where Jiung had left him, slowly relaxed his stance, though the tension in his body remained. He took a step back, as if finally realizing how close to the edge things had been. His eyes locked onto you, the intensity of his gaze making your heart skip a beat. But this time, there was something else there, something deeper—something you couldn’t quite understand.

“You don’t believe him, do you?” Ni-ki asked, his voice softer now, almost too calm.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Your mind was a whirlwind, caught between what you had just witnessed and the person you thought you knew.

“He’s just trying to scare you,” Ni-ki continued, taking a step closer to you, his expression unreadable. “You know me better than that. I’d never hurt you. You have to know that.”

But you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in your chest. The questions, the doubts, they had been creeping in for weeks, ever since you first met him. Every time you thought you could trust him completely, something dark—something off—seemed to follow in his wake.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing thoughts. “I don’t know what to believe anymore,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

Ni-ki didn’t respond immediately, just standing there, his eyes never leaving yours, watching you as if waiting for something. You could feel the weight of his gaze, the way it seemed to see straight through you.

But then, his lips curved into a small, reassuring smile. “You don’t have to think about it right now,” he said softly.

The words sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t know why. You didn’t know what to do with the tangled mess of emotions swirling inside you.

The days following Jiung’s visit felt like an eternity. You couldn’t shake the weight of his accusations or the image of Ni-ki and Jiung fighting, each man standing for something so different.

You started to keep Ni-ki at arm's length, your interactions with him becoming more guarded. You’d still spend time together, but there was a distance now—something unsaid that hung in the air between you, a barrier that wasn’t there before.

Ni-ki noticed. His usual calm demeanor faltered, just for a moment, whenever you hesitated to answer his calls or avoided his gaze for too long. But he didn’t press it. Not directly. Instead, he continued to show up, his presence always just a step away from being too much, and yet you let him in. Every time. Maybe it was the loneliness, or the need for something familiar, something you could hold onto.

One evening, you opened the door to find him standing there, the familiar tilt of his head and that quiet smile of his. He was calm, as always, but there was something in his eyes—something searching. He didn’t have to say anything to make you feel it.

“You’re avoiding me,” he said quietly, stepping into the apartment without waiting for you to invite him in.

You couldn’t bring yourself to lie. “I don’t know what to think anymore,” you admitted, your voice low. “I’m confused.”

Ni-ki closed the door behind him with a soft click and turned to face you, his eyes unwavering. “I understand,” he said, his tone almost too understanding. “But you’ve got to trust me. I haven’t done anything wrong. You know me better than anyone else.”

You wanted to believe him. You really did. But Jiung’s accusations, the evidence he showed you… it made it harder.

“Ni-ki, I…” You faltered, your words feeling heavy in your chest. “I don’t know who to trust.”

He stepped closer, his gaze locking onto yours, the space between you shrinking with each word. “You can trust me,” he said, his voice softer, almost coaxing. “I know it’s hard to see through all the confusion, but I swear to you, I’m innocent. I would never hurt you.”

You took a step back, your mind fighting with your heart. Your body told you to believe him, to let go of the doubt. But the fear still lingered, a shadow at the edge of your thoughts.

“You have to understand, what Jiung said… It’s all just paranoia,” he murmured, his voice low and comforting, like a whisper meant to calm the storm inside you. “He doesn’t understand me the way you do. You know me. You know who I am.” His hand reached out, fingers brushing gently along your arm. "You know that I would never hurt you. I’d never hurt anyone you care about."

You shook your head slightly, still conflicted, but his touch made it hard to focus. “But Jiung…” you started, your voice faltering.

“He’s crazy,” Ni-ki interrupted, a flicker of frustration flashing in his eyes before it softened again, replaced by that unwavering calm. "He’s got a wild imagination. He's pushing all these ideas in your head. Don’t listen to him. You’re smart. You know what feels right.” He took another step closer, his hand moving to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You feel it too, don’t you? The connection between us? The way I protect you, the way I look out for you? There’s nothing wrong with that.”

You swallowed hard, his words sinking deeper into your mind, like a slow poison—soft and insidious. The memory of Jiung’s accusations felt distant now, buried beneath the weight of Ni-ki’s soothing tone. "But... what if he was right?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, the fear creeping in again.

Ni-ki gave you a small smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He cupped your chin gently, lifting it, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Jiung doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s just scared. Of me, of what he can’t have But you, you’re not scared, are you?” His voice dropped even lower, intimate and coaxing. “You know I would never hurt you. Why would I? I care about you. I would do anything for you.”

You hesitated, the conflicting emotions a jumbled mess in your mind. Ni-ki continued, his fingers sliding from your chin to the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer. “You’re safe with me. You’ve always been safe with me. Jiung doesn’t want to see that. But you do. You trust me, right?”

You nodded, despite the knot in your stomach, the small voice of doubt still lingering in the back of your mind. It felt easier to trust him in this moment. He was right there, offering you comfort, offering you understanding. Everything about him seemed so sure, so calm, as though the whole world was just a puzzle he’d already figured out.

“You’ll see,” Ni-ki whispered, brushing his lips lightly against your forehead, “once Jiung’s out of the picture, you won’t have to worry about anything. We can be happy. Together.”

Before you could say anything else, Ni-ki lifted your chin, tilting your head back slightly. His breath was warm on your skin as he leaned in, and for a moment, you froze, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. But then, before you could stop yourself, he kissed you.

His lips were soft, almost tentative at first, as if waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. You didn’t pull away. Instead, your arms found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. Ni-ki responded immediately, his hand moving from your chin to the back of your neck, his grip possessive but gentle.

His other hand slid around your waist, pulling your body against his, the heat of his touch igniting something inside you that you had tried to ignore. The kiss was intense, consuming—everything you had been pushing down rising to the surface.

He backed you towards the wall, his body pressing against yours, and you could feel the tension between you both, the energy swirling in the space around you. You kissed him back, feeling the surge of desire you hadn’t realized was building up inside you.

In that moment, everything else faded away—the doubt, the fear, the confusion. All that mattered was the way he held you, the way he kissed you, the way he made you feel like you were the only thing in the world.

Ni-ki’s lips lingered for just a moment longer before he pulled back slightly, his breath warm against your face. His gaze softened as he looked down at you, his hands gently resting on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing in small circles.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice low, full of awe. “I don’t know if you realize it, but you really are.” His eyes searched yours, intense and filled with something that felt almost too deep to understand, yet you couldn’t help but drown in it. “You’re perfect. Everything about you, your smile, the way you think… It’s everything I could ever want.”

You stood there, your heart beating faster, warmth blooming in your chest. No one had ever spoken to you like that before, with such intensity, such devotion. It was intoxicating.

“You make me feel like I’m the luckiest person in the world,” he continued, his lips curling into a smile, almost possessive in its warmth. “I love everything about you.” His voice dropped lower, more intimate. “I love how you trust me. How you’re mine.”

His words wrapped around you like silk, each compliment sinking deeper into your chest, making you feel cherished, wanted in a way that left you breathless. It was like he had tapped into something inside you, something you didn’t even know was there.

“You make me feel like nothing else matters,” he murmured, his hand sliding up to gently hold your cheek. “I need you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

You felt a soft smile tug at the corner of your lips, your heart swelling with something that almost felt too big for your chest. For a moment, you almost forgot about everything else—about the doubts, the warnings, the nagging feeling that there was something off. It didn’t matter. Because in that moment, Ni-ki was the center of your world.

And the way he looked at you, so tender, so fixated, made you believe that you were the only one who could make him feel this way.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’ll always love you. No one else, just you.”

You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the emotion that swelled in your chest. You didn’t question it.

Because in that moment, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was him. And the love he gave you. The kind of love that wrapped around you like chains, making you feel like you were everything to him.

You didn’t need to know that it wasn’t the healthy kind of love. The kind of love that makes you feel safe, seen, and valued. No, this was the kind of love that thrived on obsession, on want, The kind of love that turned into possession, into something dangerous.

But you didn’t need to know that. Not yet.

--

The cool evening air wrapped around you as you walked down the dimly lit street, the soft hum of the city’s late-night life barely audible. Your fingers danced across your phone’s screen, sending a quick text to Ni-ki. You smiled at the thought of him, your chest warm with the affection you’d come to associate with him in these past few days. It had been a week since any news of the killer had surfaced in the area, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you allowed yourself to feel a little at ease.

The street was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant sound of cars passing.

But the moment you raised your eyes from your phone, something shifted in the air.

The silence seemed heavier now, thick with something you couldn’t quite place. Your heartbeat quickened, and despite your attempts to ignore it, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You slowed your pace, scanning the quiet street, looking for any sign of movement, but saw nothing. Nothing that seemed out of place.

Yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you. You had ignored it before, the anxiety bubbling up every now and then, but tonight… tonight, it felt different.

You kept walking, fingers tightening around your phone, clutching it like a lifeline. You tried to push the thought out of your mind, convincing yourself it was nothing, just the remnants of your paranoia, but your instincts were screaming.

Your eyes darted from the street to the alleyways, scanning the shadows. The streetlights flickered as you walked past them, casting long, eerie shadows that seemed to move with you. You quickened your pace, not sure why, but feeling an undeniable need to get home, to the safety of your apartment.

Then, a sharp sound broke the stillness behind you.

You froze.

Footsteps—fast, heavy, and far too close.

You turned around, eyes wide, but the street was empty. The night air felt colder now, and you felt the rush of adrenaline hit your bloodstream. Your mind raced, trying to find logic in the situation, trying to explain the sudden unease that crawled under your skin. You glanced back at your phone, feeling a desperate need to call Ni-ki, to hear his voice. But then your phone buzzed in your hand, and your breath caught in your throat.

It was a message from him. “Are you home yet? I’m thinking about you.”

You took a shaky breath, attempting to steady yourself, but it didn’t help. Something felt wrong. Your heart pounded in your chest, your senses on edge. You turned the corner, taking a route that led you toward your apartment building, but before you could take another step, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up again.

The footsteps were louder now, closing in.

And this time, you could feel it—someone was behind you. You didn’t dare turn around. Instead, you broke into a sprint, desperate to make it to the safety of your apartment. Your heart raced, pumping with fear, as your footfalls echoed in the night. You could hear the sound of running footsteps following you, getting closer, faster.

With every beat of your heart, you felt the fear building. Your breaths came in sharp gasps as you rounded the last corner before your building came into sight. The lights were on in the lobby, a beacon of safety you were nearly within reach of.

But just as you reached the door, a cold hand gripped your wrist, pulling you back into the shadows.

You felt the sharp tug of your wrist as you got dragged further into the shadows, your heart racing as panic surged through your veins. His grip was iron-tight, and each step he took felt like it was pulling you farther from safety. The familiar, chilling voice whispered again, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Did you really think you were safe?” he murmured, the words coated in something dark.

The world seemed to slow as you looked around, your eyes desperately searching for help. And then, in that moment, you saw him—Jiung. He was walking out of the apartment building, his expression tight, a storm cloud of anger above his head.

Without thinking, you swung your head back, using the only weapon you had—the back of your skull. You slammed it against the killer’s face with all your might. The sound of it echoed in the night, and he grunted in pain, stumbling back. The grip on your wrist loosened for just a second.

That was all you needed.

You took off running.

“Jiung!” you screamed, voice hoarse with fear. “The killer is here!”

Jiung whipped around at the sound of your voice. His eyes widened in shock and recognition as he saw the state you were in, but there was no hesitation. He grabbed your wrist without a second thought and pulled you down the street with him. Your heart pounded in your chest as your feet barely touched the ground.

The sound of your footsteps echoed in the night, but Jiung’s determination led you to safety. He didn’t stop running until you reached a narrow alleyway, the faint glow of a streetlamp casting long shadows against the walls. He yanked you behind a dumpster, urgency in every movement.

“Stay quiet,” Jiung hissed, fumbling for his phone with shaky hands. His breath was quick, his eyes scanning the street, his voice low and urgent. “We need to wait until he passes. Don’t make a sound.”

You nodded, pressing yourself against the cold brick wall, trying to steady your breathing. Your body felt like it was on fire from adrenaline, but there was no time to process it. You had to stay quiet. You had to stay hidden.

You peaked through behing the dumpster, your breath barely a whisper as you watched the street. The killer was there, his head scanning the area. His posture was tense, each step measured, and it made your stomach drop.

You quickly pulled your head back, heart racing. Your eyes met Jiung’s, and the terror in them was mirrored in his. He pressed a finger to his lips, motioning for you to stay as still as possible. You did, trying to make yourself as small as possible, breathing shallowly, praying he wouldn’t find you.

You pushed back against the wall even further, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment, hoping the fear would subside, but it only grew. You could hear the faint shuffle of the killer’s footsteps, closer now. Every sound felt louder in the silence of the alley. Your pulse drummed in your ears, and your chest tightened.

Jiung’s phone buzzed in his hand, but he didn’t dare answer it. Instead, his eyes locked onto yours, full of resolve. He would protect you, no matter what. But the question was, how long could you stay hidden? How long until he found you?

You felt the seconds stretch into what felt like eternity, your body frozen in place. The cold air seemed to grow heavier as every nerve in your body screamed for you to move, to run, to do something—anything. But your feet remained rooted to the ground as the wind shifted, carrying with it the familiar, suffocating scent of the killer.

You opened your eyes, your breath catching in your throat as your gaze landed on him.

There he was.

He stood there, just a few feet away, his eyes locked on you. His voice was low, almost mocking, as he leaned in slightly, his gaze never leaving you.

"Found you," he said, his tone sending an ice-cold shiver down your spine.

Before you could react, the terror overwhelmed you. Your throat felt tight as a scream tore its way out of you, a cry of desperation, of pure fear. You backed away, stumbling, but there was nowhere to go.

Jiung reacted instantly, leaping up from behind the dumpster, his body moving with the speed of someone who had no choice but to fight. He threw himself at the killer, fists flying. They collided with each other in a flurry of punches and kicks, a blur of movement and desperation.

But the killer was prepared. He pulled out a knife, gleaming cold under the dim streetlights, and without hesitation, he lunged.

Time seemed to slow as the blade plunged into Jiung’s abdomen, a sickening sound echoing in the alley.

You froze, unable to move, unable to breathe, as Jiung gasped, his hands clutching at the wound. Blood spilled between his fingers, and you could see the life draining from his face as he stumbled back. His breath came in quick, shallow gasps.

But Jiung wasn’t done yet. Despite the pain, despite the blood spilling from him, he refused to back down. His hand shot out toward a pile of broken glass nearby—sharp shards that glittered like jagged teeth in the dim light. His fingers wrapped around one, and with a primal yell, he swung it at the killer.

The sharp glass met the killer’s skin, drawing a streak of blood across his arm. The killer grunted in pain, momentarily stunned, but he recovered quickly. His eyes locked onto Jiung’s, full of rage, as he prepared to strike again.

You sat there, paralyzed, unable to do anything but watch in horror as the two men fought, the sound of fists meeting flesh, the sickening slashes of the knife cutting through the air. Your mind was screaming for you to act, to help, but your body refused to obey.

All you could do was watch the violence unfold before you, heart pounding in your chest, terrified of what would happen next.

In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stop. Jiung, his face contorted with pain and fury, managed to land a punch to the killer's jaw. The force of the blow sent the killer stumbling back, giving Jiung a brief but crucial opening.

With a desperate gasp, Jiung grabbed the killer’s mask, his hands trembling with the effort, and in one swift motion, he tore it off.

The world around you seemed to freeze as the dim streetlight illuminated the face beneath the mask. The face you had seen so many times before—every day, every week.

It was Ni-ki.

Your heart slammed against your ribcage, your breath caught in your throat. It couldn’t be—this wasn’t possible. Your mind refused to process it, even as the sight before you screamed the truth.

Ni-ki’s face was battered, blood smeared across his nose, a split lip, and a cut above his eyebrow. But despite the damage, despite the blood, he still wore that same, twisted smile. The kind of smile that made your stomach turn, the kind that sent a chill down your spine.

He looked at you, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement, and with the bloodstained remnants of his smile, he spoke.

“Surprise, doll.”

The words echoed in your head, ringing louder than the chaos around you. The killer—the man who had been terrorizing the streets, the one who had been hunting you, was the very person you had let into your life. The man you had trusted. The man you love.

Ni-ki.

He stepped closer, blood dripping from his face as he took a slow, deliberate breath, savoring the shock on your face. The man you thought you knew, the one who had played the role of the charming, protective figure, was now standing before you as the very monster you had feared.

And he was enjoying every second of it.

Jiung, weak and struggling to stay on his feet, gritted his teeth as he raised the shard of glass again, ready to fight, but the sheer realization of what Ni-ki was sent a wave of terror crashing over you. You couldn’t move, couldn’t think straight.

Ni-ki's eyes flickered to Jiung, then back to you, his smile widening, dark and crazy. He reached up to wipe the blood from his nose, his voice low, almost amused as he looked at the two of you.

“You really thought you could stop me? Cute.” He chuckled, a sound that made your blood run cold.

Everything you thought you knew—everything you had believed about him—was a lie. The person you had been so drawn to, the one who had seemed so perfect, was the very person who had been hunting you all along.

Ni-ki’s smile never wavered as he approached Jiung, who was struggling to stay conscious, his breath shallow and ragged. The bleeding from his stab wound had only worsened as he lay there, weakened and unable to defend himself.

Ni-ki crouched down beside Jiung, his fingers trailing lazily over the blood-soaked ground, clearly enjoying the sight of his former victim.

“You know,” Ni-ki murmured, his voice low and dripping with mockery, “you were right. You figured me out before anyone else did.” He tilted his head, a cruel gleam flashing in his eyes. “But it was a stupid way to prove it, don’t you think?”

Jiung, barely clinging to consciousness, managed to grit his teeth, his hands shaking as he tried to push himself up. He cursed Ni-ki out through his bloodstained lips, his voice rough but filled with defiance. “You’re insane, Ni-ki. You’re nothing but a sick, twisted bastard.”

Ni-ki didn’t flinch. In fact, he laughed, the sound almost too light for the situation, as if it was all some kind of sick joke to him. He reached out, grabbing Jiung by the collar of his shirt and jerking him up slightly before slamming him back down onto the cold, filthy pavement.

Jiung let out a pained gasp, trying to punch him, but his efforts were weak, his body too battered and bloodied to fight properly. Ni-ki easily dodged, stepping aside with a lazy grin. “Come on, Jiung, I thought you were better than that.” He made a mocking sound, almost disappointed. “You’re just a nobody, trying to play somebody. But you’ll never be anybody.”

With a swift movement, Ni-ki stepped back and let Jiung fall back to the floor, helpless and weak. He turned his attention back to you, eyes glinting with the same unsettling hunger he’d always had.

“You’re mine now, doll,” Ni-ki purred, his voice low and possessive. The way he looked at you now was different, like a predator sizing up its prey. “And I’m not letting you go.”

His words sent a chill down your spine, a mix of fear and a strange, confusing part of you that still wasn’t sure how to feel. He stood there, watching you with an almost calculating gaze, his smirk never leaving his face as he took in the way you reacted to the scene before you.

Suddenly the sound of sirens pierced the air, their wail growing louder, closer. For a brief moment, Ni-ki froze, his eyes flashing with irritation. His gaze snapped from you to the distant entrance of the alleyway as the first set of flashing lights illuminated the street.

“No…” he muttered under his breath, before cursing loudly. “Not now!”

Without a second thought, he spun on his heel and sprinted, darting into the shadows, his footsteps quick and erratic. You barely registered his movement as you looked up, heart pounding, to see the police officers now rushing toward the scene.

“Shoot!” Jiung’s weak, pained shout broke through the ringing in your ears, the officers opened fire. The sound of gunshots echoed through the alleyway, and you flinched, eyes wide with terror as you heard Ni-ki shout in pain.

“Move! Move!” one of the officers shouted, his voice urgent. Another officer, with the familiar stride of someone used to chasing down criminals, sprinted after Ni-ki, disappearing into the night.

The remaining officers rushed to you and Jiung, the crackling urgency in their movements. One of them knelt by Jiung’s side, his face grim as he assessed the situation. The other officer quickly turned to you, his hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you. “Stay with him,” he urged. “We’ve called an ambulance. It’s on the way.”

But you knew. You knew that it might be too late. You saw Jiung’s face, pale and drawn with blood, his breath ragged and shallow, the crimson slowly spreading across his chest. His eyes fluttered, struggling to stay open.

“Jiung…” You whispered his name, voice shaky, as you crouched down next to him. His hand reached out weakly, grasping yours with a weak, trembling hold.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. His eyes were cloudy, but he was still looking at you, even if it seemed so distant now. “I tried to… I tried to protect you…”

Tears blurred your vision. “You did, Jiung. You did.”

His faint smile made your heart shatter, but there was nothing you could do now, nothing but to stay with him.

The ambulance finally arrived, and the paramedics rushed in, their movements swift and professional, trying desperately to stabilize Jiung. They didn’t waste time, quickly getting him onto the stretcher and into the back of the ambulance.

You sat in the back of the ambulance, your heart in your throat, as they worked on him, trying to keep his weak pulse steady. Every bump in the road seemed like it could be the last.

The hospital came into view soon enough, and you felt numb as they rolled Jiung inside, their movements swift and precise, but it all felt too late. The doctors rushed to assess him, shouting orders, and you were left standing in the sterile hallway, your heart pounding in your chest.

Every passing minute felt like an eternity. You had been checked for injuries, given a few mild sedatives to calm your nerves, but nothing could ease the gnawing anxiety gnawing at your stomach. You needed news. You needed to know if Jiung was okay. If he had survived.

You waited. And waited.

You didn’t know how much time had passed when a doctor finally appeared at the door, his face grim but not completely hopeless.

“Are you here for Jiung?” the doctor asked, his tone serious.

“Yes,” you said, standing up too quickly, your knees unsteady. “How is he?”

The doctor hesitated, looking at you carefully. “We’ve managed to stabilize him, but it’s touch-and-go. His injuries are severe. We’re doing everything we can, but we can’t promise anything.”

You nodded numbly, a tear slipping down your cheek as you whispered, “Please… don’t let him die.”

The doctor gave you a small, sympathetic nod, before turning to walk down the hall, leaving you in that suffocating silence again. You didn’t know what else to do. You had no strength left.

But you didn’t leave.

--

The moment the doctor told you the good news, you felt like a weight you hadn’t realized you’d been carrying was lifted from your chest. He was stable, still weak, but his heart rate had steadied, and the monitors that had been beeping in a steady rhythm now felt like a lifeline.

You stepped into the sterile room, the sound of the heart monitor beeping steadily filling the air. Jiung was still unconscious, but the rhythm of his heartbeat on the monitor brought you a sense of relief you hadn’t realized you needed. The steady beep seemed like the only reassuring sound in the world right now.

You pulled a chair beside his bed, your hand gently resting on his. It was warm, his skin still carrying the weight of the battle he’d fought. The wounds were bandaged, the cuts and bruises still visible, but there was a certain peacefulness now. The machines were there to help him, to keep him alive. His breath was soft, but steady.

“You’re going to be okay,” you whispered, your voice hoarse, but full of hope. “You’re going to be okay, Jiung.”

You spent the next few hours in that quiet, sterile room, making sure that Jiung had everything he needed. When his family arrived, you greeted them with a nod, letting them take over. They seemed so relieved, and you could tell that the weight on their shoulders was starting to lift. But there was still a long road ahead.

After some time, the police came, and you were escorted to the station for questioning. The tightness in your chest from the night before was still there, and the quiet hum of the station didn’t do anything to calm you.

You sat nervously in the sterile, fluorescent-lit room of the police station, your hands pressed tightly together in your lap, your mind racing. The low hum of conversation and the shuffle of paperwork echoed from the hallway, but inside the room, it felt like everything was suspended in a heavy silence.

A detective entered the room, his expression serious. He was holding a folder, flipping through papers before glancing up at you. “We’ve got an update,” he said, his voice flat.

You sat up straighter, trying to prepare yourself for what was to come, but the unease that had settled deep in your chest couldn’t be shaken. “Is it about Ni-ki?”

The detective paused for a moment, then nodded. “He’s gone.”

The words hit you like a punch in the gut. You blinked, feeling the world shift beneath your feet. “Gone?” you repeated, unable to comprehend. “What do you mean ‘gone’?”

“They lost him,” the detective explained, his voice barely betraying any emotion. “We thought we had him cornered. But there was no sign of him anywhere. No trail, no leads.”

You swallowed hard, the room suddenly feeling too small. Your thoughts raced, your chest tightening as you grappled with the realization that Ni-ki had somehow escaped. How was that even possible?

“How?” you whispered, more to yourself than to the detective. “How could he just... disappear?”

The detective’s eyes softened slightly, as if sensing the turmoil inside you. “We’re still investigating, but from the evidence we gathered, we think he’s been one step ahead of us the whole time. He could be anywhere by now.”

Your mind went blank, the world spinning around you. Ni-ki—your Ni-ki—was gone.

Suddenly officers surrounded you with questions, all trying to piece together the night’s events, asking for every detail.

You answered as best you could, your mind replaying the horrible events that had unfolded over the past few weeks. Every time they asked about Ni-ki, the feelings in your chest tightened, and it took everything in you to answer without faltering.

It wasn’t until one of the detectives asked you a question you didn’t expect that your breath caught in your throat.

“Has Ni-ki contacted you?” the detective asked, his voice firm but measured. “We know you two are close. If he reaches out again, we’d like you to wear a wire. We can use you as bait to catch him.”

You froze. The words hung in the air, thick with their implications. The flashbacks to every moment with Ni-ki flooded your mind—his kindness, his protection, the way he’d whispered promises to you, the way he held you, the way he looked at you. You remembered the way he told you that he loved you, the way he made you feel safe. You remembered the thrill, the obsession, the pull of his presence.

You swallowed hard. You had always known, deep down, that something wasn’t right. But your love for him had blinded you. You couldn’t ignore it anymore. He was a murderer, a criminal, and as much as you hated to admit it, you knew he was guilty of everything they were accusing him of.

But still, the hesitation gnawed at you.

“Do you think he’ll hurt you?” the detective asked, noticing the uncertainty in your face.

You didn’t answer immediately. You thought of his words: “I would never hurt you, doll.” His voice echoed in your mind. He had never hurt you, had he? You were still alive, still breathing.

But the question lingered—could you trust him? Could you really risk everything for a man who had been hiding his true nature from you all along? A man who had killed without remorse?

You took a deep breath, the weight of the decision heavy on your chest. Slowly, you nodded.

“Yes,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll do it.”

The detective gave you a nod of approval, but you could feel the heaviness in the air. You weren’t sure if you had made the right choice, but you knew it was the only option you had. The man you loved was dangerous. And the only way to stop him, to protect others, was to help the police catch him.

The thought of wearing a wire, of luring him in, made your stomach twist with anxiety. But you couldn’t ignore the truth. Ni-ki was a killer, and it was time to face that reality.

“Thank you,” the detective said. “We’ll arrange everything. Just stay in touch, and when he reaches out, we’ll be ready.”

You nodded, feeling numb. You left the station, your thoughts swirling. The weight of what you’d just agreed to hung over you.

When you got home, the sight of Ni-ki’s apartment door covered with police tape sent a cold shiver down your spine. The red-and-white stripes, the ominous warning of a crime scene, were a stark reminder of how close to the edge you had come. How everything had spiraled out of control, and how much you had been willing to ignore just to hold onto something—or someone—you thought you could trust.

With a deep breath, you turned away and walked into your own apartment, the familiar surroundings offering little comfort as you closed the door behind you. The silence in your space was suffocating, every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet somehow louder than usual.

You didn’t do much that night. No calls, no messages, no distractions. You just walked to your bed and collapsed on it, staring up at the ceiling, the weight of everything pressing in around you. You could feel the tension in your body, the deep ache in your chest where love and regret tangled together in a confusing knot.

The memories of him, of his touch, his smile, his voice, and all the promises he’d made to you… it was too much to bear all at once. You didn’t know what to feel anymore, what to believe. Every memory, every whisper of his voice felt like it was suffocating you, forcing you to hold on when all you wanted was to let go.

--

A few days passed, the police investigation continuing but yielding no new leads. You tried to keep your life as normal as possible, but the weight of the unknown pressed down on you every minute of the day. The fear that Ni-ki could be watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, never left you.

Your phone buzzed suddenly, the vibration echoing in the empty room. At first, you didn't think much of it, but as you glanced at the screen, something caught your attention. The message was from an unknown number, and your heart skipped a beat. It was a message you hadn’t been expecting, but deep down, you knew exactly who it was from.

The message itself was simple, only a few words, but it sent a jolt of fear down your spine.

“Doll, I’ve missed you.”

Your breath hitched in your chest, and your fingers trembled slightly as you stared at the screen. The word doll was unmistakable. Ni-ki. It could only be him.

For a moment, you sat frozen, every muscle in your body tight, your mind racing as the weight of his message sank in. You wanted to call the police, to reach out for help, but a part of you held you back. You had no idea where he was, but there was an undeniable pull that made it hard to ignore him.

You hesitated for a moment, then typed back a simple question, your fingers unsteady.

“What do you want from me?”

The response came quickly, almost immediately, and it sent a chill down your spine.

“Just a little reunion. I think you’ll be happy to see me."

You quickly typed back, your fingers trembling as you struggled to keep your hands steady.

"Where?"

The seconds that passed felt like hours, your pulse quickening as you waited for a response. Finally, the phone buzzed again, the screen lighting up with another message.

This time, it was different. There were no words. Only an address.

An address that made your stomach drop.

"Come alone."

You stared at the screen, your mind racing. The fear started to set in as you thought about the implications of the message. Was this a trap? Or was he truly trying to see you again? Your thoughts spun in every direction, but one thing was clear—he wanted to meet. And somehow, you knew that he was in control of this situation.

Your hand hovered over your phone, your body frozen in indecision. Every part of you screamed to ignore the message, to let the police handle it. But you knew Ni-ki wasn’t that easy to catch. He’d always been two steps ahead.

You looked at the address again, the numbers blurred by your anxious tears. You couldn’t tell if you were ready to face him, but deep down, you knew you were already preparing yourself for what was to come. You had to go. You had to see him one last time.

With trembling hands, you typed a simple response:

"I’ll be there."

The message sent, and you felt a knot form in your stomach.

--

The next night, the air felt heavier than usual. You stood at the address Ni-ki had sent, staring at the old, abandoned building in front of you. The structure was decaying, graffiti littering its walls, the windows cracked and boarded up. It looked like the perfect place for a secret meeting, a place no one would think to look. The chill of the night sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself glancing around, half-expecting someone to jump out at you.

Nobody.

You checked your phone, noticing you were a bit early. The minutes ticked by slowly, each one stretching longer than the last. The silence felt heavy, each creak and rustle sending your nerves on edge. You took a steadying breath, wondering if maybe—just maybe—he wouldn’t show up.

But then, you felt it. A presence, warm and unsettlingly familiar, hovering close behind you. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as a low voice whispered near your ear, smooth yet laced with that teasing edge you knew all too well.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show, doll,” he purred, his voice sinking into your bones.

Your heart leaped, and you spun around, coming face to face with him. “You’re a little early, aren’t you?” Ni-ki purred, his steps slow and confident as he closed the distance between you, his presence suddenly overwhelming. “Did you think I’d forget about you?”

His gaze was intense, studying every little reaction from you. It was like he was savoring this moment, his dark eyes never leaving yours, his lips curling into that unsettling grin that made you feel both drawn to him and repulsed at the same time.

You swallowed hard, your mind racing as you tried to piece together your next move. What were you supposed to say? Your body tensed, but your feet remained rooted to the spot, your arms folded tightly across your chest as if to protect yourself from the overwhelming pull he had over you.

“Why did you bring me here, Ni-ki?” You managed, your voice steadier than you felt, but inside you could feel your nerves unraveling.

Ni-ki chuckled softly, taking another step closer. “To see you, doll. To see if you’re ready to stop pretending you’re someone else, stop running.” His fingers brushed against your arm lightly, and you flinched, though he didn’t seem to care.

He moved even closer, his face only inches from yours. “You’ve been running from me, haven’t you?” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “You didn’t really think I’d let you go so easily, did you?”

The realization hit you hard. He hadn’t contacted you to let go or to explain—he had brought you here to remind you that he still had you, wrapped up in his world, whether you wanted it or not. And as his fingers reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, you knew he wasn’t going to let you slip away.

“Oh, doll,” he murmured, his words dripping with twisted affection. “I thought you’d realize by now—you and I, we’re… inevitable. I’m part of you, as much as you are part of me. We fit, don’t you see? That little thrill you get, that rush in your veins when you’re with me… it’s more than just fear.” He paused, his eyes gleaming with something dark and possessive. “It’s excitement, isn’t it?”

He tilted his head, watching every twitch of your expression, every flicker of hesitation in your eyes. "You like it, don’t you? The thrill of it all, the mystery, the danger… If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have come here tonight. You didn’t have to answer that message.” His hand moved, slipping to the back of your neck, his thumb grazing over your pulse, feeling the rapid beat under his fingers. “But you wanted to. Part of you was… curious. Maybe even… drawn to me. You still want to see me, even after everything."

You swallowed, feeling a chill at how easily he could see right through you, peeling away layers to reach the uncertainty you’d tried to bury. His gaze held yours, and you felt paralyzed under it, trapped in the intensity of his words.

“I make you feel alive, don’t I?” His voice was barely above a whisper now, the words wrapping around you, pulling you in despite yourself. “Tell me, honestly. Do you really want to go back to your quiet, predictable life, or do you want to be here, with me?”

Your heart raced under his touch, every word sinking in deeper, stirring up feelings you had tried so hard to push down. Part of you wanted to resist, to walk away and bury this twisted pull he seemed to have over you. But as you looked into his eyes, his gaze so intense it felt like he was unraveling every part of you, you realized how hard it was to lie to yourself any longer.

As his hand slipped from your neck, trailing down your arm to finally capture your wrist, he tightened his grip just enough to make you feel the weight of his hold. “You were always meant to be here, doll. That’s why you came tonight, why you didn’t stay away. You could have told the police, could’ve run in any direction—but you came here, to me. You’re not running, not really.”

Ni-ki leaned closer, his mouth just beside your ear. “I know you don’t want to admit it, but… you’re mine, and I’m yours. It’s just the way it is. No one else would understand you the way I do.” His words were laced with dark promise, wrapping around you like a spell, coaxing you into that familiar, dangerous warmth.

“And you can try to push me away again,” he whispered, his breath warm and steady, “but it’ll never work, because I’m already in here.” His finger tapped lightly against your temple, and then he let his hand fall, brushing down your arm. “Deep down, you don’t want me to leave, do you? You don’t want to lose me.”

The realization sunk deeper, and he leaned back, smirking as he took in the flicker of doubt he’d stirred in your eyes. “So why don’t you just accept it? Stop fighting, and give in to what we both know is already there.”

You held his gaze, feeling the heat of his grip on your neck, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Every warning bell in your mind rang out, but they were muffled, tangled up in the intensity of his presence, in the dark thrill of being so close to him. You wanted to pull away, to deny the pull he had over you, but you knew it was no use. He was right; you were already caught in his orbit, unable to resist him fully.

Your voice was barely a whisper as you answered, your own words feeling both like a confession and a surrender. “I… I don’t want you to leave,” you admitted, feeling the last of your defenses crumble as you looked up at him. “I tried to run, tried to push you away… but you’re right. I don’t want to lose you.”

His smirk deepened, satisfaction glinting in his eyes as he held you close. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, thumb brushing softly along your jaw. “See? You’re exactly where you belong. With me.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours with a softness that seemed almost out of place given the tension swirling around you. And then you gave in, letting him pull you closer, his hands pressing against your back as he deepened the kiss, pouring every unspoken word, every dark promise, into it. It was desperate, raw, and so intense that it felt like he was claiming you, binding you to him with a connection that you couldn’t ignore, no matter how wrong it felt.

When you finally pulled back, your breath unsteady, you met his eyes, feeling a surge of conflicting emotions rise in your chest. You loved him, or maybe it was more accurate to say you loved the way he made you feel, the way he held you as if you were the center of his universe. But you knew—deep down, somewhere you’d tried to ignore—that this was unsustainable. Dangerous. A boundary crossed that couldn’t be uncrossed.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, a tremble in your voice.

Just then, the sound of footsteps and the bark of commands echoed through the building. The police swarmed the room, moving in, guns raised and voices sharp. Ni-ki’s face twisted in fury as he took a step back, his body coiled. He fought, thrashing against the officers who closed in on him, a snarl on his face as he shoved, swung, and resisted with every bit of strength he had.

“Get off me!” he roared, his eyes searching wildly until they found yours. He kept fighting, even as they forced him down, the weight of handcuffs snapping around his wrists with a finality that cut into the air like a knife. “No! Let me go! You can’t keep me!”

They pulled you back, and an officer shielded you as Ni-ki thrashed, his desperate gaze locked onto you, his voice growing louder, more desperate, with each passing second. “She’s mine! You can’t keep us apart!” His voice cracked, but the fury remained as they dragged him, his eyes searing into yours with a mixture of anger and desperation.

And despite everything, the weight of the heartbreak fell over you like a shroud. Tears blurred your vision, your chest tightening painfully as he was pulled out of the building, his screams fading into the night. You knew this was the only way, the only choice you had if you wanted to break free of his dangerous hold.

But some twisted part of you yearned for him, for the way he’d made you feel, for the thrilling, frightening attention he had given you. The line between love and fear had blurred beyond recognition, and as the officers led you away, you could still feel the haunting echo of his words.

In the silence, you knew you’d never be the same.

--

The news spread quickly—The killer was caught. People felt safe again; there was a renewed sense of calm throughout the city, like a collective sigh of relief after months of fear. It was over. Even Jiung, recovering in the hospital, felt a victorious pride in knowing he had been right all along. The police had commended him, his bravery gaining him recognition, a promotion, and a hefty raise. He was the hero of this story, finally validated.

But for you, life had taken a different turn. Every day felt hollow without Ni-ki. The nights were the hardest, when the memories of him became a ghost haunting the quiet hours. You would lie awake, your mind replaying the stolen glances, the thrill of his attention, the depth in his eyes when he looked at you. You missed him, an ache buried so deep it was almost painful. You’d wake from dreams where he was still with you, his arms wrapped around you, his lips brushing against your skin, whispering that you were his.

It was wrong, you told yourself over and over, to feel this way. But he had given you something no one else ever had, even in all its twisted intensity. His devotion, unhinged and consuming, had been a kind of dark comfort that felt impossible to replace.

You tried to fill your days with normal things, going through the motions, reconnecting with friends, putting on a brave face. But it was never enough. The nights stretched on endlessly, his absence lingering in every shadow, the memories of him entwining with the silence, pulling you back to a place that you wished you could escape from, but part of you never truly wanted to let go.

--

It had been weeks since they’d taken him away, weeks since you’d forced yourself to start a new chapter. You’d moved to a better part of town, the kind of place you hoped would feel safe, far from the past and far from the memories of him. But today, standing in your living room, the news alert on your phone shook you to your core:

Ni-ki had escaped from prison.

The words didn’t seem real. You read them again, your heart pounding louder with each second. He had escaped? The walls of your new apartment suddenly felt too thin, too fragile. The past weeks had been a struggle, true, but you had managed to convince yourself that it was over. That he was gone. That you were safe.

And now? You could practically hear his voice in your mind, that teasing, low murmur, saying he’d find you wherever you went. The memories flooded back—how he looked at you, how he made you feel like the only person in his world.

Your phone buzzed again, and your breath hitched, a small part of you both dreading and hoping it was him.

But it was a message from Jiung: "Stay inside. Lock all doors and windows. Police are already on high alert."

You sat down, trying to gather your thoughts. He couldn’t know where you were, could he? You’d been careful, had avoided any trace of the life you’d shared in that darker part of town. And yet, you couldn’t ignore the feeling that he was already close. That he’d find you, just like he promised.

An unsettling thrill ran through you, a twisted reminder of the love that still lingered, even after everything. You whispered to yourself, clutching your phone tightly, “What am I going to do?”

You weren’t sure how long you had been sitting there, the news about Ni-ki’s escape still echoing in your mind, when you heard the faintest sound outside your door. It was soft at first, almost imperceptible, like the creak of old wood underfoot. Your heart raced, eyes darting to the door. You couldn’t breathe for a moment, waiting for it to happen again.

Then you heard it—a quiet knock, a rhythm you knew too well. Your stomach churned, and instinctively, your feet moved toward the door. You tried to stop yourself, but your hand had already reached for the handle, your body pulling you closer to something you couldn’t resist.

You opened the door just a crack, and there he was—Ni-ki.

He stood there in the hallway, his familiar dark eyes staring back at you, intense and unrelenting. His jaw was set, his expression something dark.

For a moment, neither of you moved. He took one slow step forward, and without even thinking, you found yourself stepping into his arms, pressing your face into his chest, your body trembling as you hugged him tightly.

“You found me,” you whispered, your voice a mix of fear and longing. You didn’t care anymore. In this moment, it felt like he was the only thing that made sense in your life, the only thing that could put you at ease.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you so tightly you could barely breathe. “I told you I would,” he murmured, his voice almost playful despite the heaviness of his words.

His hands were on your back, gently caressing you as he whispered more words of possession, of devotion, his voice low and hypnotic. "You're the only one who understands me… the only one who’s ever really seen me."

Before you could respond, he tilted your chin up, his gaze never leaving yours, and leaned in. His lips brushed against yours, soft at first, before his kiss deepened, seizing control, pulling you closer. You couldn’t pull away. You didn’t want to.

The kiss felt familiar, intense, almost suffocating. There was no turning back now. It was as if everything that had happened before—the pain, the fear, the escape—had led to this moment.

His fingers tangled in your hair, and his lips brushed against your ear as he continued, his voice a dangerous mixture of softness and intensity. “I told you, doll,” he whispered, each word drawing you in deeper, “no one else could ever love you the way I do. No one else knows you like I do.”

He leaned back slightly, just enough to study your face, his dark eyes filled with a twisted sort of devotion. “You tried to replace me, didn’t you?” he asked, though the question was more of a knowing accusation. “But it didn’t work. You felt it too. No one could make you feel this alive… not like I can.”

You swallowed, caught in his gaze, and even as a shiver of fear flickered through you, it was overshadowed by the intoxicating pull he had. The way his eyes roamed over you made your heart pound, every glance and touch leaving a mark you couldn’t shake.

His hand moved from your hair, trailing down your shoulder and then your arm, coming to rest on your waist. “You can try to deny it,” he whispered, his mouth hovering just above yours, “but I know you missed this… missed me.” His fingers tightened, holding you with certainty, like he was reaffirming his claim. “It’s in your eyes, doll.”

In that moment, he pressed his lips to yours again, the kiss deep, full of all the things he wouldn’t say—how he’d waited, how he’d planned, how he wouldn’t let you slip away again. His hold was unrelenting, a reminder that you were his, that no matter how much you tried to run or forget, he would always come back for you.

When he finally pulled back, his gaze intense, he murmured, “There’s no life without me, doll. We’re meant to be.” His fingers brushed down your face as he continued, “I’ll take care of you. Protect you. Nobody else deserves you but me. And now… you’re never escaping me again.”

And despite the warning in his words, you found yourself nodding, caught in his spell, the line between fear and desire blurring with every touch, every whisper.

[slymanner]

What i love about sonic x shadow generations is that it still treats some sonic 06 stuff as canon like location's, character's, all the sort.

I always viewed the ending of 06 as that, after elise blew out the last remnant's of solaris, the only thing's left from that deleted/original timeline was the location's and people, and all memories of the deleted timeline and any mention of solaris and the flames of disaster/iblis etc etc were obviously wiped from everyone.

It explains why omega actually knows about kingdom valley in some way when you talk to him, and how big actually WENT to solenna and MET ELSIE.

the only thing from that timeline that space time/the time eater NEVER want to bring back is mephiles, he's kept underground, basically hidden from the timeline/any person in white space, he is a THREAT who should never be acknowledged or brought back in any circumstances.

and after breaking out of his seal he is DESPERATE to come back to the timeline in some way after being sealed away/kept in a deleted timeline for YEARS.

the time eater bringing back crisis city and kingdom valley is one thing, kingdom valley could still be a thing in the current timeline, just probably abandoned.

crisis city is a remnant of a deleted timeline but it isn't TOO much of a threat to space time, if we don't count the iblis fire enemies as a threat since they are made from him.

and I'm pretty sure it's just restored back to its erased timeline anyway after the time eater is destroyed so thankfully it's probably just back to being erased.

but nah mephiles a ACTUAL threat, if he isn't defeated here and now then this timeline is back to being FUCKED, thank god shadow was there right when he broke out of the scepter of darkness.

i always find that cool, and obviously 06 and what stuff DOES remain from that game is put into question at time's but it'll always be fun and interesting to see what 06 stuff they acknowledge/bring up as canon.

[crooked-wasteland]

I don’t know how I feel about the songs in HH, they’re catchy and the vocal performances are good, but the lyrics are really bad and don’t move the story forward, happy day in hell just starts out of nowhere and doesn’t tell us anything new about Charlie’s dream that she hasn’t said over and over in first 10 minutes. Charlie repeats herself so many times in the first episode it’s like she’s a broken record. We’re introduced to the world building and town in hell but the problem is the storybook already told us about hell. If they wanted to make Lilith a powerful presence there should’ve been missing posters or statues of Lilith if she’s was the one to rule hell and empower it with song or even news outlets about Lilith but there isn’t. Also none of these locations ever come up or is important to the story, Charlie forgets about cannibal town and she has to be reminded what it is. The princess of hell whose been living thousands of years doesn’t know about cannibal town?

I was rewatching South Park big and longer the song Mountain Town immediately gives us synopsis of the story and what’s gonna transpire, with the boys getting ready to watch a movie with the moms singing about how South Park is so great because it’s isolated and redneck from city life that their boys are “safe” and innocent while the boys sing how their parents don’t teach them anything and singing merrily how crappy South Park is and the highlight of their life is watching Terrance and Philip. Cartman gets punished and installed a chip that shocks him if he curses for singing Kyle’s mom is a bitch and as a result of the song the towns plans on installing chips in all the kids. you can be a fan of Broadway and musicals but they doesn’t make you an expert on songwriting or storytelling especially if all your doing is just making animatic mv thumbnail for the songs

The idea of how musicals work is one I realized I had to tackle in my essay(s) around the music, and needing to build the concept of how and why musicals have such a distinct formula was necessary for any of my points to land.

It's doubly hard when you are writing out these ideas rather than explaining with examples that people can hear or see right in front of them. Being a written medium, I can't suddenly cut away to a sound, or an example. Being a tumblr blog, I am limited in the amount of media I can use per post.

So I can only hope that my attempt at explaining why musicals are comprehensible to those who lack a robust understanding of musical theory or opera.

Have a sneek peek and do let me know if I failed to get the structure across.

[xmads-omensx]

Take Me To The Lakes

Masterlist

Word Count: 3,833

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Reader

Content Warnings: fluff, mentions of burnout, England idk, a little sad in places (but not loads), kissing

Summary: Y/N takes Noah away to relax away from work and California.

I woke up this morning with a burning desire to go back to the Lake District, so here. (this is very self-indulgent so sorry in advance lol)

Noah had been distant lately. It wasn’t like we had a fight, or weren’t getting along. He was just distant. He spent more and more time in the studio, at the gym, or out for runs. I barely saw him. He would just crawl into our bed hours after I had gone to bed and pull me into his chest, and would be gone by the time I woke up.

This had been going on for about two weeks when he pulled me into our bedroom and sat me beside him on the bed.

He had sighed and told me that the band were cancelling the upcoming European tour due to their collective exhaustion and burn out. Part of me was glad that they were taking time off. They all needed it. For the last two years they had been touring practically non-stop.

I held him and made sure he knew that he was going to be okay, and that he deserved a break after all the hard work he had done.

However, despite his promise to take time for himself and time to relax, he still snuck away into the studio. I had to do something or I would never get him to leave.

I took some time to think about where I felt the most at peace. What it was that helped me to escape.

Then it hit me.

Noah needed to physically escape. There was no way that he would be able to settle or find any sense of calm when he was still in his working headspace here in California. There was too much noise, too much happening, too much temptation to work.

He needed to get away from here.

Thinking back on what helped me, I remembered feeling most at peace being within nature, isolated from the bustling cities. Noah was much the same, which was one of the reasons we hit it off so well on our first date.

There was one place that always helped me to escape: The Lake District.

We used to go there often when I was younger, and it had always felt like it was in it’s own place, separated from the rest of the world. The lakes and tarns, the rivers, the towns, the trees, the breeze, everything about this place felt separated. Like it was inside of a bubble, protected from the outside world. It was safe. Secure. Hidden.

This was exactly what Noah needed.

I didn’t say anything to him so it would be a surprise, and went ahead and booked two weeks away for the two of us to escape. I spoke to the guys about it and they all said it was a great idea.

“Hey, why don’t you book another week?” Matt suggested.

“Another week? Why?” I replied.

“He needs a break, plus I have a plan.” He smirked at me, before explaining his plot to me in a low whisper. It was brilliant.

Later that week, I began packing two suitcases for myself and Noah, bringing a third for extra clothes as we would need to get Noah some proper hiking boots when we got there, so would need the extra space.

“What’s all this?” Noah asked tiredly, coming into our room to see me sat on the floor, surrounded by piles of folded clothes and bagged toiletries.

“Stuff.” I replied with a sly smirk.

“Stuff? For what?” He asked with a slight laugh.

“A trip.” I said with an innocent look on my face.

“Oh yeah?” He sat down behind me, wrapping his arms around my middle and pulling me into his chest. “What trip?”

“I’m kidnapping you and taking you away for three weeks.” I said, playing with the strings of his hoodie.

He sighed, “Babe, I have work, I can’t just take a trip.”

“I already talked to the guys about it and they said it was fine.” I quietly replied, feeling ever so slightly defeated.

“Really?” He sounded surprised.

“Yeah. I booked two weeks and Matt suggested I add another week on.” I said.

“Where are we going then?” Noah asked after a pause.

“Not telling.” I replied.

“Really?” He laughed, “You’re not telling me?”

“Nope.” I said, popping the p.

Noah laughed and pulled me closer into his chest, burying his head into the crook of my neck.

“Need help packing bub?” He murmured.

“No, it’s okay, I’m almost done.” I laughed.

Noah leant back against the bed and watched as I neatly laid out clothes into the suitcases. After watching and helping Noah pack for tour, I had become much more efficient at packing for longer periods of time whilst still keeping space for more things to go in.

That night Noah pestered me asking about where I was taking him like a little kid asking if we were nearly there yet. Each time, I laughed and told him he would find out when we arrived at our destination, and that he had to trust me and I promised that he would like it.

The next week had been a similar story, of Noah trying to ask me questions so that he could guess where I was taking him, but he was getting absolutely nothing from me, and it was driving him crazy. But at least it meant he wasn’t overworking himself.

The drive to the airport was the same. So was the flight. I even had to pretend to be asleep in order to get him to stop. It was nice to see him excited about something other than Bad Omens.

The next part of our journey was a little bit more stressful. We had a very small transfer window to get through the airport and onto the train that would depart from King’s Cross in about two hours. Noah, however, did not possess the same sense of urgency seeing as he hadn’t been to London unless it was for tour, so wanted to have a little look around. That look of wonder in his eyes almost made me slow down as we hurried out of the airport, but I couldn’t slow down. Besides, when we reached our destination he would be significantly more excited and intrigued as he had never been there before. Not even for tour.

I hailed a taxi and we began our journey through London to King’s Cross station. Noah simply resumed his questioning. The taxi driver, thankfully, noticed that Noah was American so began to ask him questions about what life was like on his side of the pond. He seemed particularly intrigued by the significant lack of roundabouts in the US, while Noah was surprised by the amount of roundabouts in London alone.

After arriving at King’s Cross, we ran for our train then boarded with no issues at all. This leg was quieter as we were both becoming increasingly tired and Noah took in the views of England that he hadn’t seen before. The cities became countryside, before becoming cities again, then going back to countryside until we eventually arrived at Keswick train station.

Noah had fallen asleep, with his head resting gently against the glass.

“Noah.” I whispered, squeezing his arm.

His eyes fluttered open and he gave me a tired smile.

“We’re here.” I whispered.

He nodded, unplugging his phone and grabbing his airpods case before standing up to grab our hand luggage out of the overhead compartment. He placed his hand on my shoulder as I led him out of the train, grabbing or suitcases on the way out.

Luckily, I had arranged for a rental car, so Noah would be able to get a bit more rest before we got to where we were staying.

I had always loved Keswick. When I was a kid I wanted to live here. It was the perfect mix of quiet and peaceful, with the busyness of tourists hurrying around the town centre. Plus, the fish and chips here were absolutely delicious.

I had book an Airbnb for the next three weeks, closer to Derwentwater itself. Sure, Windemere would have been preferable, but I needed Noah to understand my version of peace and escape.

There was a beautiful cottage nestled beside Friar’s Crag. It was more or less next to the water, with a nice pub and café nearby. We had stayed there a few times when I was younger, but usually aimed to stay more in the town itself so it would be more convenient.

The car ride itself was short. Noah gazed out the window the entire time, wonder filling his eyes. The views were, admittedly, spectacular. I didn’t blame him for his awe-struck expression as I found myself making that same face every single time I came here.

My plan was working.

We arrived at the cottage and unloaded our suitcases, bringing them up to the master bedroom. It was a four bed cottage, so was big just for two people, but I wanted Noah to have the best experience possible, and we needed the space for Matt’s part of the plan to work.

“So…” I began. Noah looked up from his unpacking. “What do you think so far?”

“It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen somewhere like it.” He said, with a slight laugh. “Honestly, I’m glad you did this.”

“Our trip hasn’t even started yet.” I laughed. Noah stood up and walked towards me, putting his hands on my waist.

“Okay then. What’s first on the itinerary then boss?” Noah smiled.

“We need to get you some proper boots.” I said firmly, smiling at him.

“What’s wrong with my shoes?” He laughed, glancing at the trainers sat by the front door.

“Well, you can’t hike in those things.” I replied, shaking my head as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Come on.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the front door.

We drove back into Keswick town centre with one specific goal in mind. Boots.

Noah looked insanely out of place in Cotswolds. He was the only person covered in tattoos, but most notably, the only one wearing joggers, a hoodie and trainers. The rest of the customers, myself included, were clad in hiking trousers and rain coats.

We walked straight to the back of the store, Noah followed behind me like a lost puppy. I knew exactly which ones he would need, I just needed him to try them on. He was hesitant at first, having never had tried on proper walking boots before, but I managed to persuade him to try them on. And they were perfect.

I also kitted him out with hiking trousers and a waterproof jacket, something that he would never need in California, but were a necessity here.

When we got back to the car, I made him climb into the backseat and change into his new trousers as I was taking him on his first walk. Sure, we hadn’t spent one day here yet, but he needed to wear in his boots.

We drove the roughly forty minutes to Tarn Hows listening to a mix of Hozier and other acoustic songs that put me at a sense of calm.

By the time we got there, the rain had already started, but that was not going to stop me from doing this walk. It had been one of my favourites since I was young, and I knew Noah would enjoy it. The route was flat, with amazing views of the mountains and the tarn itself.

“Are we seriously doing this?” Noah asked as we got out of the car.

“Yep.” I cheerily replied, zipping up my waterproof, pulling my hood up and shrugging on the backpack that was filled with water, snacks and sandwiches for later.

I grabbed Noah’s hand in mine and began the walk towards the gate.

Rain pattered off of our hoods and formed muddy puddles on the dirt path, covering Noah’s brand new boots which he was not a fan of as he was hell-bent on keeping them clean. I assured him that it would be virtually impossible to do that here. His reasoning was that he felt bad getting them dirty as I bought them for him. I assured him that it was fine but I don’t think he really acknowledged it.

Our walk was filled with light conversation about animes we had watched recently, mild drama within my friendship circle, new bands we had discovered and comfortable silence as we listened to the rain on the leaves and against the water.

The walk was over before I knew if and we hurried into the car to hide from the rain and eat our sandwiches. I had made myself a cheese and onion sandwich with salted crisps, and I made Noah a chicken, bacon and ranch sandwich. I had bever made one before, but if he didn’t like it, he didn’t let onto it.

Noah ran from the car to the bin as quick as he could, but ended up tripping on a tree root and falling headfirst into a puddle. I couldn’t hold back my laughter as he pushed himself back to his feet and kept jogging back to the car as if it had never happened.

Mud dripped down his face and the front of his jacket. His knees were coated in mud and his boots were soaked.

He dropped onto the passenger seat with a sigh before turning to me. “If you tell anyone what you just saw, I will never forgive you.” He pointed his finger at me accusingly at me to emphasise his point. I swatted his hand away and we both burst out laughing. It was really nice seeing him laugh again. Properly laugh. Like he didn’t have a care in the world.

I drove us back to the cottage, where Noah immediately jumped into the shower as I finished unpacking our belongings.

“So, what’s the plan for dinner?” Noah asked as he stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“I was thinking fish and chips.” I replied with a smile, placing the last of my socks in the drawer, before lifting up the suitcase to place it on top of the wardrobe. Noah took it from my hands and put it away for me with ease.

“I mean, you’re the one who knows what’s good, so I’m putting my fate in your hands.” I laughed and swatted his chest as he walked towards the bed, sitting on the edge of it, watching me gather my things to put in my handbag.

“I’ll go now then and get it. Why don’t you get dressed and find us something to watch?” I suggested.

“That sounds perfect.” Noah pulled me to stand  between his thighs before planting a deep kiss on my lips. He let me go and dropped back with a huff, lying on the bed.

“You’re so dramatic.” I laughed as I walked back towards the door.

“It’s literally my job to be dramatic.” He retorted, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that.” I giggled as I left the room.

Once I had acquired our meal, I headed back to the cottage. We spent the evening watching Twilight as the Airbnb only had DVD and for some reason only had that or some nature documentaries, which neither of us were too interested in that particular evening, before heading up to bed and falling to sleep more or less instantly.

The next few days were filled with exploring Keswick and hiking, before venturing to other towns like Ambleside. Noah seemed to really be enjoying his time here. He had put his phone on Do Not Disturb, whilst I kept mine on to keep in touch with Matt in regards to his plan.

The hiking was definitely something that Noah was excelling at. His time spent running and at the gym was becoming obvious the more we walked. He had even started venturing ahead of me as the first week became the second week.

Noah was very clearly doing better. He hadn’t been talking about work at all whilst we had been here. The dark circles under his eyes had lightened ever so slightly and he had been laughing, properly laughing like he had in that car, more often. His laugh was my favourite sound so it made me even happier.

He had even treated himself to a second waterproof jacket and another pair of hiking trousers. And I was definitely not mad about it, because he looked great in those trousers.

Our second week was coming to an end, and Noah sill had no idea about Matt’s plan, which was perfect. The evening was drawing to a close as Noah and I headed up to bed. I patiently waited for him to fall asleep before pulling my phone out and texting Matt to get a rough estimate of what time he would arrive at the cottage. They had just gotten on the train at King’s Cross, so I still had a good three or so hours to get a little bit of sleep before they arrived.

I set an alarm and cuddled back into Noah’s chest. I fell asleep quickly.

When my alarm went off three hours later, I hurriedly turned it off before looking back over my shoulder to see if I had woken Noah up. Luckily, he was a relatively heavy sleeper so he wasn’t awoken by the sudden noise.

I tiptoed down the stairs and into the living room, pressing call on Matt’s contact.

“Hey, Y/N.” He greeted, sounding very tired. It was about 2:30am, so that made sense.

“Hey, Matt. How was the flight?” I asked.

“It wasn’t too bad. I’ve been on worse flights.” He laughed.

“And the train?” I asked.

“Was actually early, so we are almost at the cottage.” Matt said with a yawn.

“Really?” I replied.

“Yeah. We are like two minutes out according to this GPS.” He said.

“Great. I’ll let you guys in and you’re more than welcome to go to straight to sleep if that’s what you want.” I yawned.

“That sounds great, actually.” He replied with a laugh.

“See you guys soon, then.” I smiled into the phone.

“See you soon.” He said, before hanging up.

I sat on the windowsill of the window that looked onto the driveway for about two minutes, just like Matt said on the phone, before a large, black car pulled up and seven men poured out of it, and started taking bags out of the boot.

I unlocked the front door as quietly as I could and greeted them all with a hug before telling them where the spare bedrooms were. They all moved slowly, like their limbs were weighted down with lead.

We all whispered our goodnights before I snuck back into bed beside Noah, who instantly reached out and pulled me closer to his chest. His soft snores lulled me back into a deep sleep.

I awoke to birds chirping outside, and a cold bed. Weird. Noah must have been up for quite some time. I could hear laughter from downstairs. I started to piece together where Noah was and headed downstairs to see everyone.

I was greeted by eight grown men all overlapping eachother on the sofas in the living room, watching some David Attenborough documentary about penguins. It was a wholesome sight. Matt, Nick, Folio and Bryan were piled up on one sofa, with Noah, Jesse, Jolly and Michael piled up on the other. I couldn’t resist taking my phone out and snapping a few photos of the chaos that was unfolding.

They didn’t seem to be bothering eachother, but were all comfortably sat practically on top of eachother. However Folio was actually sat on top of Matt’s lap very comfortably.

Jolly turned his head round to look at the doorway I had just entered through and waved at me, shouting “Morning, Y/N.” Causing the rest of the guys to turn to face me and copy his actions.

Noah turned and smiled, offering a, “Morning, baby.” Instead, causing the rest of the guys to make kissy noises at him. I simply laughed, sliding onto his lap and wrapping my arms around his neck.

He whispered facts about the penguins that I had missed into my ear as my focus was drawn to the television in front of us.

We all sat in a blissful silence for the rest of the documentary before getting ready for the hike that I had promised them.

We piled into the two cars once we were all ready and head off for Cat Bells. It wasn’t an easy hike by any means, but was a good one for beginners. My plan was to take them on one with a fantastic view first, so that then they would be hooked and would want to go on more.

We began our walk up the trail, Noah and I falling to the back of the group, knowing to pace ourselves as I had taught everything I knew about hiking in The Lake District.

The rest of the guys tired out very quickly, allowing for Noah and I to take the lead and reach the top first.

We stood and admired the view, before Noah began to speak.

“How come the guys are here?” He asked.

“It was Matt’s suggestion, I just implemented it.” I began. “He said that a holiday wasn’t a bad idea, so I extended our trip and arranged for the others to have a week here as well.”

Noah smiled at me, but didn’t say anything.

“Did you have fun?” I asked.

“The most fun.” He replied with a content sigh.

It was bittersweet. Our trip was ending, meaning we had to go back to California. I considered it a second home, so I was looking forward to getting my routine back, but I also loved it here. Noah could see it all over my face.

“I’d like to retire here I think?” He said, turning back to face the view.

“Really?” I asked, taken aback slightly by his admission.

“Yeah. When we’re older, married, with some kids. Obviously we would have some dogs too.” He went on, as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

“That sounds nice.” I said with a smile, leaning my head on his shoulder.

“Thank you.” He said quietly after a moment of silence.

“For what?” I asked, looking back up at me.

“Taking me here. Away from everything else.” He explained. “You showed me your safe place, and I’m very grateful for that.”

“You needed a break, obviously I wanted to help.” I replied.

“You are amazing.” He said before kissing the top of my head.

I laughed at him. He laughed back. I loved his laugh. It bounced off of the surrounding mountains and fells, glided over the tarns and lakes and echoed in the caves. It consumed me.

No. He consumed me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Don’t take my sunshine away.

Part 4

Warning ⚠️; Blood, murder, mental breakdown

Pairing; Bruce Wayne/Male Reader

Summary; Ra’s al Ghul is in Gotham, escaping Batman, Nightwing and Robin only to face you and you have to face the ugly truth when you realize someone stole Jason’s body.

~~~~~~~~~~~

To say you hated Ra’s al Ghul and his league would be a euphemism. Bruce was still marked by his time among them, his flesh still covered in scars and his sleep with nightmares. Not only that but Ra’s had more than once been a pain in your ass. He and his daughter, both were on your list of most hated people.

Thankfully, Bruce always knew how to reassure you and make you safe when they were around. After all, Thalia was his ex from before Bruce and you fell in love and she always was flirting with him. You trusted Bruce and knew he was faithful no matter his past, but Thalia easily got on your nerves by going after your husband.

And that week you could only remember your hate and disgust of them as Ra’s was spotted with his assassins. Dick came to help the second he heard the news. Every night, Bruce went out with the boys trying to find and catch him. The thought of Tim facing a master assassin filled you with dread and fear. What if you were to lose another son?

No.

Bruce would never let something like that happen again. He wouldn't let Tim get hurt. After losing Jason and almost you and Tim, Bruce had changed. He still was against killing but had become more reckless, marking the worst kind of criminal with his sigil. They would often die in jail.

It had deepened the rift between Bruce and Clark, leading to many disagreements and altercations between the two heroes. You had always stood by Bruce, telling him he was doing the right thing.

And now you could only wonder if it was the reason behind Ra’s presence in the city.

That morning when the boys came back from patrol, you could see on their faces that Ra’s had once more escaped their grasp. You welcomed them back with open arms and the first aid kit ready. Thankfully only Bruce needed some care, the boys were fine but upset and you understood them.

Once they were tucked into bed and you were alone with Bruce in yours, your husband broke down. You held him in your arms as he held you for dear life. You whispered sweet words in his ear, caressing his hair and kissing his face. You were careful around his injuries and bruises, not wanting to cause more pain. Once Bruce had calmed down, he stayed in your embrace as he explained himself.

Ra’s didn't target him that night, instead, he went after Tim and Dick. Bruce was still shaking up, body shaking as the adrenaline slowly disappeared and the reality hit him. You held your husband tighter.

- “But nothing happened to them, Bruce. They don't have a single scratch on them, you protected them from Ra’s. You are a good dad.” You told him, your voice barely a whisper as you dried his cheeks. “Do you hear me? You are a good dad and you kept our kids safe and I know you will always bring them back home.”

Bruce had smiled weakly, thanking you. You two cuddled more and you admired him under the morning light. So many scars and bruises and you knew each of them by heart. You could even name what or who caused them.

You stayed awake, watching over Bruce as he slept in your arms. His head rested on your chest as he listened to your heartbeat before falling asleep. You kept brushing his hair with your fingers, making sure no nightmare disturbed him.

Of course, nothing could stay calm forever.

The following night, you couldn't sleep at all. Bruce’s story kept replaying in your head and how everything could have gone wrong. You also wondered why Ra’s had targeted the kids. It wasn't in his nature to go for the weakest, so why did he?

You sat in the living room, facing the cheminee as you drank some tea while thinking about everything when you heard the floor cracking. You immediately knew it wasn't Alfred, the butler would have announced himself sooner and Bruce definitely was still out.

You froze in fear as you heard Ra’s voice filling the room.

- “Looks like Bruce left you alone, defenceless… at my mercy.”

- “I am anything but defenceless, Ra’s.” You spat back as you slowly got up before turning around to face the assassin.

Ra’s stood tall wrapped in greenish clothes. Your eyes immediately found his sword and you felt fear slowly crawl inside your heart. Bruce had taught you how to defend yourself and you knew how to use a gun, but against Ra’s? You stood no chance of getting out alive.

Your only comfort was that Bruce would avenge you and soon you would be reunited with Jason.

- “What do you want?” You asked, voice colder than ice. “Why did you try to hurt my kids?”

- “So many questions and yet none are the right ones.” Ra’s mocked Ashe approached you. You moved, keeping a safe distance from him, making the other man smile. “Bruce taught you well.”

- “Just like he taught our sons. You won't get away with killing me, Ra’s. If Bruce doesn't avenge me, I know my children will.”

It only made Ra’s chuckles as he shook his head. You two walked around the room, still facing each other. You could feel your heart racing in your chest, hoping it wouldn't be an agonizing death.

- “I see where Jason got it all, not from Bruce, but you. He really is his papa’s son.” Ra’s said almost mockingly.

His words enraged you. Not only was the fucker talking as if Jason was still alive, but also as if he knew your son. Never would Jason stay around people like Ra, if he was alive you knew he would come back to you and Bruce.

So how dare he speak of Jason? How dare he act as if your son was still alive?

- “Shut up! You speak as if you knew my son as if he was still alive. He is dead so keep his name out of your filthy mouth!” You snapped.

- “Are you sure about it?” Ra’s asked, smirking.

It was too much for you.

The disrespect, the mockery and the cruelty of his words made you see red. You didn't think twice and raced toward Ra’s. The man was too surprised by your reaction and you were able to land a punch.

You two fell on the ground, thrashing around and trying to dominate the other. You bit and scratched Ra’s when he had you pinned down. The snake got a few punches on you as well and you felt your mouth filling with blood.

You had managed to throw away his sword and it got stuck under the sofa. Ra’s hands grabbed your neck and you managed to hit him in the balls with your knees. No matter the pain, Ra’s didn't let go and you began running out of air. Lungs burning, you felt your sight get blurry as the assassin was about tonl break your neck. You closed your eyes, awaiting death.

To your biggest shame, you screamed when you heard a gunshot and warm blood splattered all over your face. You fell on the ground with Ra’s in a loud thud, gasping for air as you crawled away. Two strong hands grasped your shoulders and you tensed until you heard Alfred’s voice.

- “Master (Y/N), thank God you are fine. Here, let me help you.” The soft voice of Alfred was enough to calm your nerves as he cleaned your face from the blood. “Why didn't you call for me? Ah! You two are really made for each other, aren't you!”

- “Alfred? Alfred! W-what happened? Ra’s al Ghul, he…” you tried to speak, but your throat hurt like hell.

- “Dead. Thankfully I didn't touch you when I shot his head, but what a mess I made. It will take me hours before getting all that blood off the floor.”

You opened your eyes and looked around. You quickly found Ra’s body lying on the floor in a poodle of blood, half his head missing. Heart racing in your chest, you shivered at the thought of what would have happened if Alfred hadn't shown up.

- “Alfred, you need to…” You began, voice shaking as the butler helped you up before sitting you on the sofa.

- “Already done. Master Bruce and the children are coming back and I have already told the police about the break-in.”

You nodded feeling a weight lifting off your shoulders. You kept your eyes on Ra’s body as if he was going to come back to life. His words kept repeating in your head, filling you with doubt.

Before long Bruce and the boys were back and you melted in your husband’s arms as he held you tightly just like Tim. Dick covered Ra’s corpse, making sure you couldn't see it anymore. He stayed behind you, a silent support once the police arrived.

Gordon was at lost for words and you couldn't explain to him the full story. You stayed on the story of the break-in and that you didn't know him, and could not understand why that man tried to kill you. Thankfully Gordon didn't suspect anything and believed you. After all, Gotham was a hellhole so such things weren't out of the ordinary.

But once the police were gone with Ra’s body, you explained the whole story to your family. You kept quiet about how you had accepted your demise and emphasized how Ra’s said Jason was still alive even tho it was impossible.

Just like you, Bruce and Dick were outraged at the thought, denying the possibility. Only Tim believed it. There were so many weird things they saw and fought about, could it really be impossible for Ra’s to have brought Jason back to life?

The idea that that assassin had played Frankenstein with your son terrified you and you almost threw up on the spot. Bruce chastised Tim, but Dick got on his side.

What if…

What if…

The simple possibility was enough for you to need confirmation that Jason was still resting in peace. With the three of you against him, Bruce had no other choice but to agree to dig up Jason’s tomb. It was disgusting, horrible and needed.

You were all silent as you went to Jason’s last resting place carrying each a shovel. It didn't take you long before his coffin was in sight. You almost had a panic attack and it only thanks to Bruce and Tim if you didn't. They held you as Dick opened the coffin and froze before looking at you.

- “It's empty. Its.…” Dick said, voice shaking as you gasped for air. “Jason…”

- “Dick, stop it!” Bruce snapped and got up, walking toward the opened grave. “That unnecessary cruel and…”

You felt your heart drop as you saw Bruce froze and just knew. You got up on shaking legs and ran up to see. Bruce grabbed you, trying to stop you, but you said it. The coffin was dirty and, worse, completely empty. You cried, tears rolling down your cheeks.

- “Where is he? Where is my son?” You screamed, fingers digging in Bruce’s arms as your own body protested in pain. “Who took? Where is my baby?”

- “Easy my love, easy. We are going to find the truth, we are going to find Jason okay? Please calm down my love.” Bruce whispered in your neck as he held you tightly.

You collapsed in Bruce's arms, crying and clinging to him. The boys were talking but you understood nothing. Only your husband's sweet voice reached you even tho you couldn't calm down. The thought that someone had stolen Jason’s body horrified you and you wondered why. Why steal him? Why not let him rest in peace?

But Bruce’s promises were enough to comfort you and you knew your husband would do everything and anything to find back your son. Whoever did it was in for a beating, because such a crime wouldn't be left unpunished.

[bobcatmoran]

Just because I wanna get it down before I forget, stuff from working as an election judge yesterday:

167 new voters registered, in a precinct that had ~2900 registered voters when the polls opened.

Lots and lots of kiddos who came to the polls with their parents and got "Future Voter" stickers, which they were almost always pumped about, though a few asked for the same "I Voted" sticker that their parents got.

A few hostile voters upon being told that their precinct had changed since they last voted, but they all took the directions to their actual new voting spot and left without more than being like, "This is BS, I voted here last time, how dare you."

Only one actual freakout that I saw, from a voter who, when he put his ballot in the tally machine, was told that he'd overvoted (voted for more candidates than allowed) in at least one race. He was given the standard option of choosing to have his ballot count for all races except what he'd overvoted for or to have his ballot returned, have that ballot spoiled, and get a new one to fill out, hopefully correctly. He decided to get his ballot returned and then yell at the ballot judges, at which point I, who was on the greeter/troubleshooting position, nudged the Head Judge to use his deescalation training. It worked, thankfully.

A woman a couple decades older than me who came in and said she'd never voted before. I congratulated her for coming in once I got her registered.

Another woman who asked which parties Trump and Harris belonged to, because she "wanted to make sure [she] was voting for the right one." (the answer was that their parties were listed next to them on the ballot)

1000 voters reached by 3:30. An overall turnout, including the 1/3ish of the registered voters who'd voted abesentee, of about 84%.

Having to join an election judge of the opposite party in emptying out the ballot bin of the voting machine mid-afternoon (with a sign posted to explain what we were doing — fortunately the machine design let folks continue submitting ballots while we scooped them out) because it was in danger of filling up since it's only built to handle about 1000 ballots. We filled one of our two cardboard ballot boxes to the brim and then sealed and signed it, per procedure.

The owner of the donut shop across the street dropping off a couple boxes of unsold pastries for the election judges once the store closed for the day

High drama with both the DFL and GOP poll challengers, the former having a LOT of questions to the point where our Head Judge was like, "I have other things I have to do, why do you not know this," and the GOP challenger being grumpy at being moved to a plae where he couldn't see what we were all entering on the tablets we were using to sign in/register ballots.

Later on in the day, both the DFL and GOP poll challengers expressing thanks that our precinct was run like a well-oiled machine with friendly and helpful election judges, and they didn't have to deal with any drama

Almost a dozen new voters being registered by the — as far as I know — uniquely Minnesotan procedure where a registered voter in the precinct can vouch for a new voter, signing a form where they basically say, "Yes, I swear this person is legally able to vote and lives at this location in the precinct, and I know this personally."

Recording the write-ins and running into two separate ballots where they filled in "Mickey Mouse" and "Donald Duck" for pretty much every judicial race

The family who came in with their kids in school uniforms with a private religious school's logo embroidered on their uniforms, and complained while waiting in line that this precinct had a voting location located at this particular church while the affiliated church for their children's school was not a voting location.

Voting locations here are based on wherever is willing to offer a polling place with no cost to the city. There are some municipal voting locations (the library, civic center, fire stations), but they're not enough for all the precincts, and since schools are in session on Election Day locally and don't want a bunch of strangers around the kids while churches are generally not used on Tuesdays, a *lot* of voting locations are at churches that volunteer for it.

In other words, this couple's complaints about not having a voting location at their church is entirely the fault of their church board.

Big shout-out to my fellow Election Judges, regardless of party — I know 1/2 of them were not from my party, but aside from one gal who had some questions that I side-eyed, but still did her job, and another I was assigned to do something because we're registered from different parties, I had NO idea which party any of them were registered for, because we all genuinely worked to ensure everyone who came in could cast a ballot if they legally could and worked with them to find as many possible solutions that we could. Lots of, "can this person vouch for you?" "Do you have any of these documents? Can you show me one on your phone, that's perfectly ok, it just needs to have your name and current address!"

So glad that our briefing about where the fire extinguishers were located was never used.

[kimanima-moon]

I recommend a few, but idk what you like… so, here is a bit of what I found

Ongoing:

Wait, I’m a what? - tldr; after Clockwork dropped of Danny in Gotham he tries to make the best out of the situation which includes helping out some people. Except along the way that led to rumors that he was an up-and-coming crime boss. A rumor he was largely unaware of.

Bus to Nowhere - After being on the run from his parents and the government for a couple of months, moving from town to town, Danny ends up in Gotham City and decides to risk staying in Batman's territory. He'd take the wrath of Batman over live vivisection via beloved parents or being studied and torn apart by the government. Besides, he's not a meta. Being dead is a medical condition.

Stand and Deliver - The heroes of the living world have missed every warning besides the final ultimatum. Can they stop a war they didn’t see coming?

The Human Prince of Ghosts - Danny has been King for a few centuries now, but he's still half-ghost, immortal or not. So every now and again, Clockwork likes to kick him out of the Realms to go play human for a decade or two.

It's usually pretty boring. This time, though, he meets a small child with a camera and a lot of pointed questions and immediately has Dad Instincts about it.

Complete:

Ghosts? As my therapy animals? More likely than you think. - Jason is minding his own business, picking up strange green glowing goops with eyes, and living his not-very-best life.

Meanwhile the Batfamily is tracking down flying dogs, overpowered Metas calling themselves ghosts, and someone is having far too much fun with the boxes around Gotham. But this ain't about them.

Dead Man Walking - None of this was Danny's problem— and he's determined to keep it that way, no matter what the cops, the weird dude in full-on themed body armor, or the secret society of rich people hiding in the sewers of Gotham had to say. If he wasn't getting paid for over time and he wasn't on the clock, then what was he supposed to do about it??

How the Not-quite-dead solve Disputes - Danny was just out to poke his nose at how the acknowledged teen heroes live. He didn't mean to interrupt a fight. But that guy is way too angry, and why are his eyes glowing green?

One Shot:

We all have our Christmas traditions (call it closure) - Tucker spends his Christmas hacking into Bruce Wayne's cameras, y'know, just to see if he can do it. It leads to a lot of things being explained. About both Tucker, and the Batfam.

Dignified Ancient Adults - Danny gets called to the Watchtower to discuss the situation in Amity Park, the atrocities of the GIW, and to set the record straight on ghosts. Here's the thing, the Justice League apparently thinks he's thousands of years old, and he just goes along with it because what else is a halfa trying to hide his identity supposed to do?

He's not the only kid pretending to be an ancient being at the meeting.

Royal Hot Potato - The Justice League tries to summon the Ruler of the Infinite Realms to help them with a ghost problem. They expected Pariah Dark and were ready to do whatever they could to get him to agree to their terms. What they didn’t expect were two teenagers who juggled the title of Ruler of the Infinite Realms like a hot potato while snarking all the while.

Maybe Pariah dark would have been the better alternative.

Does anyone have fic recommendations for dp x dc WITHOUT shipping. I'm not against any ship so background stuff is fine, but I was hoping to read a few that don't focus on romance as a key element.

[nelkcats]

Blob Meditation

It was no surprise that Sam had the worst temper among the three of them, Danny thought it was because she worried too much, Tucker thought it was accumulative stress. The thing is, nothing she did helped with calm her down, which was why she suggested her friends to leave her alone for a few minutes, she didn't want to punch them.

They agreed and Sam sat on the castle stairs, she was stressed about her parents, college and Danny's safety. She was thinking about how to get him to move with them to Gotham, where Jazz was working but Danny wasn't comfortable with that. He wanted to help as much as they did, and it was obvious he wouldn't be able to contribute anything if he moved.

The fact that he had to hide from vigilantes who never paid him any attention before also frustrated him.

As she was thinking, some blob ghosts came bounding up to her, she pushed them away and continued on, but they swarmed and enveloped her. In a few seconds all her stress was gone and Sam looked at the blobs in dismay, though they gave her an idea.

Frostbite commented to her that the Blob ghosts were relaxing due to the fact that they purify, negative emotions were part of that. Sam smiled and offered Danny his business idea, the halfa looked at Sam doubtfully but hesitantly accepted.

Soon there was a new business popping up in Gotham. A relaxation and meditation center run by a young man, although it seemed to have a confidentiality agreement if you became a member. Strangely, both Rogues and regular people were attending.

The Batfamily became suspicious and sent Red Hood to investigate. A few days later, Jason was a member and was as calm as they had seen him in years, not even angry with Tim or calling him replacement for a whole week. Bruce began to worry that he had been caught in some kind of mind control.

Sam was happy that the business turned out good, seeing the room full of Blob ghosts was not surprising, they all floated around Danny and his "clients" happily, she guessed they were feeding well, Danny also seemed happy to contribute something to pay his University and their shared department so everyone was winning.

[aro-bird]

Okay, for aro awareness week, I need you all to start recognizing that:

NOT EVERYONE IN THE ARO COMMUNITY IS FROM THE UNITED STATES OR EUROPE.

Please, when we're having discussions about aphobia, allonormativity amatonormativity, and other issues for the love of god STOP PRETENDING THAT WE DON'T EXIST AND LISTEN TO US!

We aren't just your token aros that exist in the other side of the world just for you to prove that we are everywhere or whatever point you're trying to make, we are living, breathing human beings and members of the aro community and we deserve respect and to be remembered not as a point in your discourse but as equals.

I am sick and tired of people just assuming that everyone in the community is either from the United States or Europe and only centering those voices in the discussion. We exist too.