#when will the suicidal feelings over this thing pass lol

[yeonjuns-beanie]

As It Was

warnings: 18+, weed usage, smut, unprotected sex, soulmate au(kind of), little hatefuckin before real fucking, reader is a brat, mentions of suicide, oral(f receiving, logan is an EATER), claws come out when he…, little bit of primal play, breeding kink, daddy kink, implied age gap cuz i think it’s hot, im prolly gonna write him like an animal, think that’s it!! LOL

Logan Howlett x female!reader

summary: after saving his world from extinction, wade brings home a wolverine. you feel a tether to him but can't quite figure out what it is, but logan does. as the days go by you slowly chip away at the wall between you two and things slowly return to as it was.

word count: 4.5k

title is inspired by the hozier song of the same name....

It’s been three months now and you still couldn’t figure out the pull you felt toward Logan. The moment Wade brought him through the door, Mary Puppins in hand, you felt a tie to him. Now, it was as if the Red String of Fate was punishing you for not remembering your connection with him. It was haunting, aggravating, and pushing you towards sexual frustration because no matter how much you tried to remember, your thoughts would instantly become clouded with your attraction to him. He was brooding, grumpy, and humorous when he wanted to. The stoic exterior of him was just that, a shell. You just weren’t quite sure how to crack his nut yet.

You were sat in the main room of the apartment grinding up some green to pack a morning bowl. As you were getting ready to fill the glass you heard Wade’s voice echo through the apartment.

“You always grind Aunt Mary so hard. Don’t you think she would like to be loved tenderly, sugarbear?”

“And the last time I gave you the grinder there might as well have been a whole nug in the bowl. You damn near burned half my stash.”

“You’d think living with three addicts would be fun, but it’s more like babysitting toddlers fighting to see who can ruin my day first. Spoiler: it’s everyone.”

You chuckled, slotting the bowl into the joint of the bong, and pointed at Wade with it.

“You wanna hit this or not?”

“‘Course I do. How could I pass up a wake n bake with my girl?”

Wade jogged over to you, plopping dramatically on the seat next to you. Rolling your eyes, you took the first hit letting Wade finish off the remaining smoke in the shaft. Exhaling you spoke while the smoke billowed out of your mouth.

“Wade, baby, I love you, but I’m not your girl. What about Nessa?”

Before he spoke, he had his coughing fit like clockwork. Every time, no matter the method, resulted in a cough so bad he looked like a drooling dog. It was free entertainment but you tried your hardest not to laugh out loud because every time you did, it made it worse.

You couldn’t hold it

It was like watching a court jester and when Wade finally caught his breath he was staring off at a wall in the apartment mindlessly reaching for the glass. When his hand was left fondling the air reaching nothing, you let your laugh echo through the apartment.

“You sure you want another one?”

“Just gimme the weed, gorgeous. And to answer your question. Vanessa and I are on a break of sorts, but I’m wounded that I now have lost you too. It’s cause I brought Peanut here isn’t it?”

Wade was feigning heartbreak, just busting your balls in an effort to see if you’d crack. Your relationship was always like this and that was probably why you two got along so well. Nothing was ever too serious and yet still completely vulnerable. As wild as he was, Wade was a safe space for you and for some reason this morning, you felt like sharing.

“Perhaps.”

His head whipped so fast you thought it’d fly off. Coupled with his dramatic gasp and chest grab you nearly regretted your admission.

“I knew it!”

“Will you keep it down, it’s not that serious.”

“Au contraire. This is probably the most serious thing since Blind Al ran out of Peruvian marching powder.”

Rolling your eyes, you swallowed your pride as you knew Wade wouldn’t let it go until you told him every detail possible. As much as you pretended you hated divulging this information, it was kinda nice to let out to somebody. You’d been wrestling with so many feelings since Wade brought Logan to stay with you guys and the weight of it was becoming painful.

“Well, he’s hot obviously.”

“Tell me something more interesting, we all disrespectfully gawk at the honey badger.” Wade quipped.

“The problem is I feel this weird attachment to him. Like I’ve known him before. Maybe we met before they tried their best to wipe my memory, but I can’t shake this one. I’m drawn to him but he won’t let anyone get close enough to figure that out.”

You had your own run-in with the TVA a few years ago and instead of dumping you into the void, they were nice enough to plop you in Earth-10005. You were grateful considering the stories of this barren garbage heap that Wade and Logan told you about but you couldn’t remember why they sent you here in the first place.

You had no real memory of your life before this or what you did that fucked you up so badly. It always haunted you. Maybe you were a murderer. A merciless killer and that’s why they snagged you. A similar fate to Wade’s but they decided somewhere that you weren’t equipped for the job and the TVA orphaned you to another universe.

You weren’t complaining, you loved the life that you had now you just wanted to remember the rest of you. You were roaming this universe, a husk of your former self and no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that it didn’t bother you, it did. It kept you up at night. Until Logan walked through the apartment door.

Slowly, things started to reveal themselves to you but only in a dream. You were forced to piece together your life with the shattered fragments of what your dreamscape gave you to work with. You’d wake up from the most vivid dreams only to remember one instance where you were walking down a street, the sky pouring rain in a godly attempt to cleanse you. Your hands were always coated in crimson when you looked down.

It’d come in flashes and it’d end just as fast. You were patient with yourself but a lot of times you tried to drown out the feeling with various substances. Weed being your vice of choice as alcohol made you suffer. Making you wish that an attempt of self-mutilation or the bittersweet release of dancing with death while your wrists stained the floor garnet succeeded.

They never did.

So you tried your best to make peace with your life and you were doing alright until Logan showed up. Now the universe was mocking you. Testing to see if you’d slip up and forget everything you learned.

“I think he’d like to figure you out, y/n. Do with that what you will.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Wade shrugged his shoulders handing you the bong back. As he stood up you took one last hit and left the glass piece on the table. As you exhaled, Logan’s voice pierced through the silence.

“Jesus. D’ya have to stink up the apartment with that shit? Can’t go outside?”

“Easy, peanut. The art of the wake n bake is sacred. Plus, talk to the gardener if you have requests to make, not me.”

Wade pointed to you as he wandered off into the kitchen and you reached for the bong motioning it to Logan.

“Wanna hit?”

Logan hit you with a short ‘no’ and it almost hurt your feelings. Your gaze flicked over to Wade who was mouthing to you something you couldn’t quite make out but he was pointing to Logan while doing it. Your brain spazzed for a moment before coming up with a response as you stood.

“You want coffee or something, Lo?”

“Sure, kid.”

You walked into the kitchen with Wade and started whispering to him.

“What the fuck? Of course, he comes out while I’m blowing up the house.”

“I don’t see why you’re worried, he doesn’t seem upset.”

You turned around trying your best not to look suspicious.

“Yes, the fuck he does. I’m gonna fuck this up before I even get the chance to start-”

“-You two morons know I can hear you, right?”

You hung your head in defeat finishing up the two cups before setting one in front of Logan and holding yours while you stood. The air was thick, but not uncomfortable. It just felt like everyone needed to get something off their chest and didn’t know how to start. Before you opened your mouth to speak, Wade’s voice cut you off while he sent a text message.

“Well, I’m gonna leave you lovebirds to it. I’ve got a pegging date.”

Again. Mocking you. The universe seemed to just have it out for you and apparently, today was the day of honesty. You took a seat across from Logan wondering where to direct the conversation.

“You hungry? I can make us something.”

“I’m alright kid, not too keen on stoner food in the morning.”

“Hey, I’m still a good cook when I’m cooked. I just wanted to offer.” You paused.

“Also if you have a problem with it, I’ll find a new spot. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“No need. Just giving you guys a hard time. We all have something to cope with our shit.”

You nodded knowing he was referencing his drinking habit, or problem if we were feeling honest. You left your coffee cup on the table and stood up, wanting to Irish goodbye in your own home. But you didn’t want to add any more bricks to this wall even though it felt like the silence was already doing so.

“Well, um. I’m gonna chill out for a bit in my room if you need anything.”

He hummed to let you know he heard you and you walked down the hallway to your bedroom before stopping in your tracks. Something possessed you and you had to get this out. The test was walking away and if you finished that journey into your bedroom and locked the door, nothing would be resolved. Turning on your heel, you walked back into the kitchen and faced Logan.

“Why do you hate me?”

He nearly choked on his coffee, the noise echoing in the cup.

“What?”

You sighed, trying to not feel silly about your admission.

“Why do you hate me? And if you don’t, why do you act like it? It’s so hard to get through to you and it feels like I’m talking to a fucking wall.”

“Kid-”

“And stop ‘kid’ing me! If it’s out of endearment it doesn’t feel like it.”

Your heart rate was rising and you could feel your skin getting hot. The months of pent up emotions were finally boiling over and you couldn’t stop it. You needed to know why.

“What is it then, y/n?”

“Why can’t I get through to you? Every time I try, you shut me down by being curt with me and I’m left with the same feeling as before. I can’t shake this feeling that I know you and I can’t even get close to you without you shoving me away like I have a fatal disease. So why, Logan? All I wanna know is why?”

He sighed knowing there was no easy way to escape this.

“Kid–sorry. It’s complicated. I know that feeling. I feel it too, but I know why it’s there and I don’t want to fuck it up again.”

Again?

“What do you mean again?”

Logan sighed and said nothing. Hanging his head in what you thought was shame but most definitely could be avoidance. It frustrated you even more so because why couldn’t he just talk to you?

“Here we go again, nothing?! Is it so hard to just say what this is?”

“It’s not that simple, bub.”

You scoffed and turned around to walk to your room. You needed to clear your head because it was more than apparent that a solution would not be provided for you. Logan didn’t have the courage to reveal what he knew so a walk away from him would have to suffice.

“Y/n! Where are you going?”

“I need to clear my head since obviously you don’t have the gall to tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Slipping your shoes on, you tried to move past Logan but he was blocking the doorway.

“Move.”

“Y/n. Just-”

“I said move, Logan.”

One wall after another you kept hitting, except this one was physically him. He nearly filled up the doorway and his frame was imposing. You tried to figure out how you’d slip past him but you were so heated that you were about to settle for dramatics before he moved his body just enough for you to slip past. You stared at him, looking for something in his eyes to tell you to stay but it just made you more irritated. You walked down the hallway and almost made it to the door before you felt his hand wrap around your wrist.

“Do you get a kick out of torturing me or something?”

“Sweetheart, if you just—just sit down and let me say what I need to say.”

“Oh, now you wanna fucking talk. Let go of me. I’m not in the mood to talk anymore.”

Logan’s grip on you tightened as you struggled against him and you pushed on his chest trying to get him off of you. He was stunned by your actions and so were you but you couldn’t stop. You kept pushing him away from you until he grabbed your upper arms stabilizing you but you still were pressing your hands against his chest. He was calling your name trying to calm you down but you were too lost in your emotions. You thrashed your head up, trying to plead with him silently to let you go even though you knew that was the last thing you wanted.

When your eyes met his, one of his hands cradled the back of your head and before you could register it, his lips were slotted against yours in a moment of desire and exasperation. Bated breath, fury, and sexual confusion fueled the kiss but you’d be a liar to say you didn’t enjoy this feeling. His body flesh against yours, the heat bouncing between the two of you nearly suffocating and it had only been seconds. Logan had you pressed against the wall his hands roaming the curves of your body and his knee slotted itself in between your thighs, completely caging you against him.

He pushed his knee up into the apex of your thighs applying a delicate pressure to your center. You moaned against him, your body rolling your hips into the feeling. His hands were roaming over your body in a frenzy, like if he didn’t touch you fast enough you’d disappear. Your hands wrapped into his hair, pulling on his sandy brown locks as you tried to stabilize yourself into the feeling.

Logan pulled away from you, a string of spit the only thing left connecting you two until it broke and you felt the cold air vaporize the heat on your swollen lips. You were staring at his features, locked in his gaze hoping that if you didn’t break eye contact he’d stay right here. His gruff voice broke the heady silence.

“Since you wanna be a brat and not talk anymore, I have no choice but to show you how I feel, sugar.”

Logan slid his hands down until they were underneath the swell of your ass and told you to jump. As your legs wrapped around his waist, he walked down the hallway to your room. His senses were incredibly heightened at this moment and when he breached the threshold of your room, he was intoxicated by the smell of you swirling the room.

As he laid you down on your bed, your scent wafted off of the sheets with a gentle breeze and he was soon surrounded by a nest of you and your arousal. He prowled over your body, taking you in and memorizing every inch of you, how you were restless against him, and how your lower half mindlessly moved against him in desperate need of some sort of friction.

He uttered a low growl against you as he snaked up to your neck leaving a string of hot kisses against your skin. The scruff of his beard nearly overstimulated you and had you clawing at his skin, frantic in your efforts, soft moans escaped your lips in wordless need of feeling something more.

“Don’t wanna talk but I got you whimpering for me, huh princess?”

“Lo-”

“Shh, baby. I got you.”

Logan bit your ear, pulling at the skin before he tugged at the bottom of your shirt and you lifted your back just enough so that he could slip it off of you. Your upper body was fully exposed to him as your tits pancaked on your chest. As he lowered his face back down to your body, he trailed down your skin with his nose inhaling every last inch of you. The action was so subdued in comparison to the rest of his demeanor that you got completely lost in the feeling.

As his face met your stomach, the scent of your arousal was incredibly inebriating, deluging his mind with salacity. He traced the waistband of your shorts with his nose, encasing his teeth around the elastic piece of fabric before replacing his mouth with his hands as he languidly pulled them down your legs. Tossing them across the room he looked up at you.

“You want this?”

“Please.” You mewled out.

Logan shoved his nose against your panties inhaling your scent before rubbing your bud through the fabric as he came back up your body to capture your lips in a searing kiss. He pulled your panties from your body, your slick stretching as the fabric left your messy lips. The cool air was welcomed but was soon replaced by the warmth of Logan’s mouth against your petals.

He lapped at you like a dog. A wanton primal need taking over his senses. He wanted to be enveloped in you and you in him. In every timeline, he’d claim you and this one was no different. You tangled your hands in his hair, rolling your pussy into his face as he sloppily ate you out. His hands were wrapped around your hips holding you in place as he greedily drank you in.

You could feel the spit dripping down your folds and forming a cool pool of fervour beneath your skin. Eyes rolling back in ecstasy you could feel your orgasm begin to settle in your lower stomach, heat rippling across your skin. Your moans increased in frequency but became more breathy in nature as you came closer to your high.

Logan’s hand snaked up your curves and his fingers teased your nipples, pulling and pinching at the sensitive skin as he felt your body grow more tense with desire. Dragging his calloused hands down your body one last time, he inserted a finger into your wet, libertine cavern and you sucked him in with need. The stretch of him adding a second finger pushing you right to your edge as he curled them inside of you.

“Lo- I’m gonna-”

“I know, sugar. Let it out. Lemme hear you”

He immediately put his tongue back on your clit, and let you ride out your high against his face. Your moans gained volume completely immersed in the pleasure. When the ripples of euphoria finally dwindled, you looked down at Logan and pulled him up to your face so you could kiss him. The tang of your sex was still present on his lips and it ignited something within you.

“You got too many fuckin clothes on, Daddy.”

You were breathless. Lost in a licentious rhapsody as you had him hovering over your body and when Logan paused his movements to look at you, you thought you ruined the moment. He could smell the change in you and spoke before you had the chance to apologize for nothing.

“Say it again.”

He could feel you heartbeat pounding in your chest, arousal returning to the forefront of your mind.

“Wanna see you. Feel all of you, Daddy.”

Your voice was dripping sex, his personal psychedelic. He freed himself from his beater and you palmed his bulge through his sweats. Slipping your hand past the waistband, you stroked his heavy cock.

“Lemme make you feel good.”

You were getting ready to flip your bodies over, but Logan pinned you to the bed his eyes boring through you. You felt so small underneath him, like he could do whatever he wanted to you and you’d let him. When he spoke he broke you from the trance.

“Another time, sweetheart. This is about showing you how I feel about you since my baby needs me to spell it out for her.”

Slipping out of his sweats his cock was on full display, so heavy that it didn’t have the spring to bounce against his stomach. It hung in front of him, heady and in desperate need to be inside of you. Precum and prurience leaked from his tip. Logan crawled on top of you, the tip of his cock rubbing between your folds, coating your slick across his shaft.

“Tell me what you want. Tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

You squeezed around nothing, the action not going unnoticed by Logan. You mewled against him, just wanting him to ravish you in every way possible. You wanted to be marked, for everyone to see that you belonged to him but you couldn’t find the words to articulate this feeling while this sexual heat was radiating off of your bodies and numbing your mind.

Logan slowly pushed his tip into your rapt cunt before pulling it out and sliding it against your clit. The withdrawal of pleasure bringing you to your senses.

“I want you to make me yours. Wanna belong to you, Lo.”

You were wanton with need. The desire for him became nearly unbearable and it was all soon resolved as he pushed his cock past your pious walls, defiling you of any innocence you had left. You wanted to be claimed, he’d claim you. Animal instinct took over as he rocked his hips into your cunt, your walls fluttering around him in ardor. Low growls left his throat as he nipped at the skin on your neck, alternating between kissing the marks and swiping them with his tongue. He was marking you, making you his own.

It was like he couldn’t get close enough to you as he thrusted into you. His arms wrapped around your body as you fell limp to the pleasure. You felt another orgasm on the horizon and you tried your best to warn Logan by sinking your nails into his back, leaving red trails of morbid desire to mark him as yours. You didn’t realize the amount of pressure you were putting on his skin, but the groans that left him had that concern pushed to the back of your mind. Your orgasm washed over you and your pussy squeezed so tight around him that you nearly pushed him out of you. You were entranced, drunk on him and his cock, still desperate for more.

It was like he could hear your thoughts because as soon as you thought of a second round, Logan was flipping you on your hands and knees and you arched your back as he rubbed his hand along the small of it, accentuating your arch. His cock filled your sugared walls one more time and as he buried himself to the hilt. Wrapping a hand around your neck, he brought your body flesh against his.

“Gonna fuckin breed you. Never gonna forget you who belong to, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help the preemptive squeezing of his cock at the mention of him breeding you. The thought of him filling you with all of him was grossly erotic and Logan took the chance to taunt you.

“Oh? You like that, huh? Want daddy to breed your pretty little pussy?”

You hummed, your eyes lidded as you tried to see him over your shoulder. Sweat was sticking your bodies together and you only noticed how hot it was between the two of you when he pushed your body forward, cool air hitting your back as he began to mold your cunt to the shape of his cock. His tip was kissing your cervix and repeatedly hit that spot deep inside of you that made you squirm against his body.

His thrusts were becoming sloppy, his breaths ragged and you could feel your third orgasm of the night creeping on you. Low growls complimented the whimpers that were leaving your mouth and being somewhat muffled by the fabric of your sheets. You couldn’t hold his hips against you to ensure that he stayed inside so you just whimpered out a small ‘inside’ as you felt your orgasm begin to wash over your body.

Logan wasn’t far behind, one hand resting on your hips and his other by your head steadying himself above you. Sinking his teeth into your neck, you cried out in avidity and rapture filled his veins before painting his seed across your walls. You heard a faint schwing and as you opened your eyes, you saw that his claws were extended. As you moved your hips back into him to fuck you through the rest of your high, you accidentally nicked yourself on one of his blades. He hissed against you uttering a strained ‘don’t move’ as the luxuria dissipated in his body.

As he calmed down, his claws retracted back into skin and he gently rolled you over to gaze over your features. He moved a few sweat-stricken pieces of hair off of your face and placed a gentle kiss on your lips, which was such a contrast from before. Pulling out of you he pushed himself off the bed.

“Be right back.”

Returning with a warm towel, he cleaned you up and grabbed a shirt from one of your drawers waiting for you to put it in before sliding next to you in the bed. You curled into him, tracing patterns into his chest. Looking up at him, you felt none of the tension from before in the room and you decided that this would be the time.

“So, what did you mean by ‘again’ earlier?”

Logan sighed but not out of exasperation like it was earlier, it was softer this time.

“In my world, we were together. That’s the pull you feel. But in like so many other areas in that timeline, I fucked up and I lost you. I’d rather have kept you at a distance than not have you at all, but I fucked that up too, now.”

He laughed the last bit out, a touch of humor apparent in his delivery. Sighing, you felt like something could work here between the two of you.

“Well, whenever you’re ready to tell me what happened between your timeline’s me and you, I’ll wait patiently for it. But until then, know that you’re not losing me here. I’m yours as long as you want me.”

You didn’t expect a response from him, nor did you feel like you really needed one. You wanted to relish in this moment between the two of you and soon enough sleep overtook both of your forms.

© yeonjuns-beanie '24

~Just as it was, baby Before the otherness came And I knew its name The love, the dark, the light, the flame~

[scoobydoodean]

Hello<3

I was wondering if you had any thoughts on how fandom misconstrues Dean's relationship with alcohol?

There is so much emphasis on making him out to be a violent mean drunk, but I mostly remember that he drinks and like passes out when he's grieving or stressed (iirc) (s6 PTSD, Soulless sam, when Cas dies, etc.)? It's weird to me because Dean isn't the only character to go through this. Bobby relies on drinking too. He's exactly as gruff as Dean can be. He also had an abusive father. Yet I don't usually see people judging Bobby for that (if they exist, I haven't seen them at least thank God).

I get frustrated when people say things like the MoC was a direct metaphor for alcoholism just because it made Dean sooo violent and angry, etc. And, it's like an unrealistic understanding of alcoholism irl and also of Dean himself and his actual actions and context. I just get weirdly defensive of him over it lol.

If you've already hashed this out I'm sry! At the end of the day, it's all just interpretation ig, but I wanted to know your take on it cause ik you'd look at dean with a good faith lens.

<3

One could say I have had thoughts on how fandom misconstrues Dean's relationship with alcohol. One could even say I have spawned extremely funny multi-day fandom-wide disk horses on this subject simply by giving my opinion on my own blog when an anon asked me to.

I'm tracking Dean's relationship with alcohol (and other substances bc I was too lazy to make two separate tags) through #dean and drugs during my rewatch if you care to peruse, but I think you and I are of a similar mind on this.

Prior to season 4, Dean has a very average relationship with alcohol. In season 4, Dean starts using alcohol as a coping tool to help him fall asleep because he's having nightmares about hell. By season 6, alcohol is also a coping tool for depression and stress. He drinks to deal with nightmares, he drinks to cope with hell trauma, he drinks after soulless Sam watches his sexual assault with a smile, he drinks after Cas swallows all the souls and Death blames Dean for everything, he drinks throughout season 7 to cope with Cas's death and Bobby's death. I'm up to 8.01 and have yet to see a single occasion where Dean drinking and Dean being violent co-occurred. What I do see is Dean drinking when he is sad, alone, or scared.

I'll continue tracking—I'll eventually get back into the MoC arc where Dean is drinking heavily again, and obviously Dean + drinking + anger + violence are all going to happen at the same time in MoC seasons. However, correlation does not equal causation, and while someone can choose to believe that Dean's drinking causes him to be angry, I think the literal answer in season 9/10 is that Dean's been cursed by the father of murder, and on a more metaphorical level, the Mark of Cain quite overtly represents Dean's resentment toward Sam which Carver spends his entire run laying out in great detail. This is why the whole Carver run culminates in Amara (a Dean parallel) being unleashed to take revenge on her brother, and why the MoC is a brother murderer curse to begin with. Alcohol is set dressing. It shows us—just as it did in the past—that Dean feels sad, alone, and scared (in this case, of what the MoC could lead him to do—which also isn't dissimilar from the original reason Dean started drinking—after hell to cope with the trauma of not just being tortured but torturing others—the fear that he'd been made into a monster).

Looking at the matter holistically, I don't personally see Dean as an angry drunk. I see him as a sad drunk. If anything, I think he hopes that alcohol will drown his anger and violent urges in the MoC arc, or at least slow him down, while also being the traditional tool he uses during boughts of depression (which he is very much experiencing during the MoC arc to the point of suicide). I also think outside the outlier of season 9/10, the narrative supports sad drunk Dean far better than angry drunk Dean.

[mintmatcha]

cw: a weird vent piece lol, suicide mention, no quirks au, mentally ill reader

You always fuck with your shirt on. You'd wear more, if you could, but you haven't figured out how to do it with your pants on yet.

You pull the sheets over your sweat chilled legs and hope he didn't notice the spots you missed shaving. If he did, Natsuo doesn't seem to mind. His arm is tucked under your head, muscle fibers occasionally twitching underneath you and turning the soft mass dense.

Sometimes, Natsuo keeps his shirt on too. Neither of you have ever asked the other about it; there's a mutual understanding when a hand is stopped.

"Do you work tonight?" he asks.

You shake your head as his body relaxes deeper into the mattress.

"I'm gonna do laundry if you want to throw your stuff in," he mumbles, "I'll get you junk to sleep in."

The medical textbooks he was studying are still on the floor, flipped to random pages of different cycles and tissues, abandoned in exchange for you. If Natsuo fails his midterms, it'll be your fault. If he passes, he'll be leaving the city next semester for his hospital rotations.

Part of you wants him to fail. It's that dirty, evil part that no one else seems to have, the part you try to starve, but it keeps growing anyway. It nips at you whenever the room gets too quiet.

It's teeth are extra sharp today.

"You're so sweet." You speak into his skin, "I don't know how you're still single."

A sharp inhale is sucked through his teeth, cutting through his smile. Natsuo takes in all of your features and you know he's wondering why you're saying these things-- why you're purposefully bringing this up.

"Well, sweetie-" His tone is light, like he's avoiding stepping on glass, stepping on glass. With every word, he walks his fingers on your arm, spanning from elbow to shoulder, "I'm only single because you keep turning me down."

The overhead fan whizzes. The part you try to starve sinks its teeth into your chest.

"Natsuo, we've talked about this," you say, "I don't date."

You sit up and swing a leg over him, straddling his hips. A trail of white hair runs down his stomach and down under the sheets, disappearing where the two of you meet. He holds you by the hem of your tee, just tight enough to hold you in place.

"Would it be so bad?" he whispers.

"Here's what would happen, alright?" You brush your fingers through his sweat touched hair and it bounces right back into place the second you pull away. It makes you giggle a bit and he mirrors you, an unsure, foolish optimism in his eyes, "Let's just say I met this wonderful, beautiful boy and tricked-"

"Tricked?" he scoffs.

"Tricked him into loving me." You want to kiss him, but it feels cruel for both of you. Instead, you just cup his jaw in your hands and cradle him, letting the weight of him slump into your palms, "He'd treat me right and bring me home to meet his parents, 'cause he was raised right and, even though he's really smart, he'd think he's in love."

Fingers squeeze at your hips.

"But the second I left, his parents would tell him that he deserves someone prettier and smarter and, and, and better," you say, "And they'd be right."

“My mom’s nice," He drops your pretense with a whisper, ruining your not so careful charade. “She wouldn’t say that.”

He doesn’t mention his dad. There’s a silent sentence there. One that says, “But he might.” It’s hard to keep your brain from sticking to that point, from sticking your thumb into this metaphorical soft spot.

“I mean, she wouldn’t say it out loud, but she’d think it," you say, “She’d sit there and think ‘that girl's not good enough for my son' and she'd be right."

He scoff he lets out is uneasy, almost a songed laugh, more pained than annoyed. "My mom is nice."

This conversation is hurting him, but you can't stop yourself.

"And they'd tell you to break up with me, but you wouldn't listen to them, 'cause you're head strong like that. You'd probably date me in spite of them for while," you ramble, "But then you'd go away and you'd meet some pretty, normal girl and you'd realize they were right. They were always right. I was right."

The overhead fan whizzes.

"So, it's better if I just don't date at all,"

Natsuo's grip dissolves and you think you see it then - the moment whatever is between you dies. A hollowness passes over his features, empty eyes and sucked cheeks, as he ducks his head down to rest his face against your chest. Chin against the soft of your tits, he seems farther away than ever.

You could gloat. You could cry. You're a self-fulfilling prophecy once again.

Natsuo sighs and his words slip so easily from him that you almost don't process what he's saying. "You're so sad. I wish you'd get help."

That catches you off guard. The control over this conversation is ripped away, your curtain drops, and you suddenly feel very, horribly seen.

"What?" You try to laugh it off, leaning back to escape the way he watches you.

"Sometimes I wake up and you're not here," he says, "And I worry that's the last time I'll ever see you."

You understand the implication.

"I'm not gonna kill myself." It might be the truth, you think.

"Yeah," His arms wrap around your waist again, snaking the air from your lungs, "Touya promised me that too."

Touya is only ever mentioned over too many beers and tears you're not allowed to remember the next morning. He was only 16, only a couple years older than Natsuo, but the ghosts still linger to this day, always tucked into the back of the room, stalking, haunting.

Natsuo comes from money and fame. His apartment is paid for by his father. He's never had to work to afford food. At first, you resented him for that; you wanted that ease and safety his family afforded him.

But everything comes at a cost. Every unhappy family is unhappy in there own ways.

"I'm sorry that you keep loving things that break." That is the truth. You're just the end of a line of his mistakes, starting all the way at mom and dad and trailing through every girlfriend ever since.

"I do love you. And it's not despite the fact you're 'broken'," Natsuo takes your hand with a resounding firmness. It reminds you of that thing they say about golden retrievers; the smart ones can hold an egg in their jaws without shattering the shell. Natsuo holds you like he understands you in some deep, intrinsic way, "Or because of it or whatever."

He doesn't look away, those bright, wide eyes bluer than ever.

"I just like all your little pieces." He kisses your knuckles one by one, trailing from thumb to pinkie to thumb again.

The room is silent. The bad part of you is no longer begging to eat. Maybe it's full for now, but you know it's just out of focus, stalking in the dark, biding its time.

"You should study." You slip from him and reclaim your own space in the bed. After a long, simple pause, Natsuo gets up himself, collecting his boxers from the floor.

"Yeah," he says, "You're right."

The hurt you've caused is no longer comfortable to live in. Your mouth is dry, thirsty for a change you're not sure how to make. Recovery feels like a big leap-- loving and being loved feels every farther away.

All you can do is shuffle your feet against the sheets and take the tiniest step towards normalcy.

"Do you want to get brunch tomorrow before your classes?" you offer your olive branch, your silent promise, "I'll pay."

He weighs this, measuring it for sincerity, then smiles just wide enough your get a glimpse of teeth.

"Let me get you something to sleep in."

For now, it's enough.

[soombee]

ଳ⋆｡˚𖦹 caught in the current of you — ch 10 , what are we, kim donghyun?!

warning ! mentions of suicide (sarcasm) and alcohol consumption

word count , um a lot

sorry for the long wait😢😢 i was sick all thanksgiving break 🙂🙂🙂 also lowkey by niki reference at the end heh

the message sat in your head for too long, your thumb hovering over the send button. before you could even sigh, your hands typed it out, and hit send—which would have taken more than a week for you to send if you hadn't been unstable LOL

you; hi leehan, sorry for not responding to um.. the whole thing sooner but i think i'm ready now(?) let’s talk

his reply came almost instantly-like the only thing he was made for in life was to service you

leehan; Oh of course, pretty. I've been thinking about it too Imao. I’ll be there in 10

the nickname "pretty" twisted something in your chest. it was so casually affectionate, but now it carried the weight of everything unresolved

true to his word, his car pulled up in front of your house minutes later. you hesitated as you walked toward the passenger door, wondering if this was a mistake. but when you opened the door and slid into the seat, the familiar scent of his cologne—sweet and warm—made your heart clench,

“hi,” he said softly, glancing at you as you buckled your seatbelt

“hi,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended

he waited a beat before putting the car in drive, “where do you want to go?”

“anywhere,” you said, avoiding his gaze, “just..somewhere we can talk”

he nodded, and the two of you drove in silence, the hum of the engine and the quiet music being the only noise between you. he took you to a quiet spot by the river, a place you’d both gone to in happier times; the familiarity of it felt like a cruel joke

when he parked, neither of you moved—it all felt so awkward. he turned off the engine and the silence grew heavier

“so” he started, his voice hesitant, “what did you want to talk about?”

you stared out the window, your heart racing, “us.”

his grip on the steering wheel visibly tightening, letting out a shaky breath, “i figured..”

“i need to know, leehan,” you said, finally looking at him, “why did you push me away? why couldn’t you just let me in?”

he turned to you, his expression conflicted, “i didn’t mean to.. i—i thought I was protecting you. from me, from my mess. i thought if I kept my distance, you’d be better off”

you scoffed, the frustration bubbling u, “protecting me? by shutting me out? by making me feel like I wasn’t enough?”

“that’s not what i wanted,” he said quickly, his voice breaking, “i swear, yn. i never wanted to hurt you. i just—”

the pure oblivion in his words only made the ache in your chest even worse

“oh my GOD, leehan. you couldn’t even trust me? you couldn’t even count on me not to judge you for being so overzealous,” your voice trembling, “you didn’t even try. you made me feel like I was screaming into the void.. like—like i was standing on your street in the cold, waiting for you to just unfold your arms and let me into your warmth.”

his eyes widened, the weight of your words hitting him—finally realizing what you really went through to get here.

“you say you care,” you continued, tears brimming, “but caring isnt enough, donghyun. if you wanted me—really wanted me—you’d show me. you’d stop hiding behind your walls and show up. show me the very thing you’ve been shutting everyone else from seeing.”

his head dropped, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white,

“i know,” he whispered. “i know i messed up. i know i let my own fears ruin what we had and I hate myself for it, yn. everyday, i hate myself for it” he wiped away your tears, “every passing moment i spend without you is the only thing i think of ever since we stopped talking.”

the vulnerability in his voice and how he’s still caring for you even tho there were tears rolling down his face cracked something in you, but it wasn’t enough to erase the hurt

“i forgive you,” you said after a long silence, your voice quiet but firm, “but forgiveness doesnt mean i’m ready to forget. i need time. i need space to figure out what i want”

he sighed, long and heavy, “does this mean that whatever we have won’t go any further than this?”

you shook your head, your throat tight, “i—i dont know. i just.. we cant keep doing this. let’s… let’s not talk for a while. at least not about anything other than the project.”

he nodded slowly, swallowing hard, “okay, if that’s what you need.”

you reached for his hand, “leehan… i dont hate you. i could never hate you. but you need to figure out what you want too.”

the ride back was silent, the weight of the conversation still settling between you. when he pulled up in front of your house, you paused before getting out, pausing to look at him one last time,

“i don’t want you to wait for me but, for all that this is worth, i know we can be better for each other in time.”

his lips parted but no words came out. instead, he just nodded, keeping his gaze steady

you stepped out of the car, closing the door softly behind you. as you walked up to your door, you didn’t look back though you could feel his eyes lingering on your back, you can tell that he misses you already.

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taglist (open) ! @saintriots @yourmyst4r @sftsohee @httpenhoon @alisonyus @astrae4 @lynnimini @enhacolor @mari3s @voikiraz @yveol @sol3chu @saritahwang @kazemiya @kamfaye @meoriapeuda99 @1starqi @dylanobr1ens

[angelicsoka]

SARA, l. hughes

word count | 1.3k

pairings | luke hughes x fem!reader, platonic!quinn hughes x reader, platonic!jack hughes x reader

summary | luke’s girlfriend has suffered in silence for too long, and luke noticed the warning signs too late

warnings | HEAVY themes of suicide and suicidal ideation, mentions of self-harm and depression, underage drinking and smoking, mentions of blood. ANGST ANGST ANGST, open ending, this is not a happy fic, luke is fucking oblivious. based on the song sara by we three. no use of "y/n". lowercase intended

a/n | this is my first time posting in here so i'm still figuring out how this all works lol. this is NOT proofread. also this is probably the darkest thing i have ever really written.

little sara, you're a diamond in the rough

and i know that you don't hear this all enough

and i'm sure that's why your wrists have tons of cuts

and i'm sure that's why you think you're not enough

fingers traced over the faded scars and onto the raised ones, the urge more than she can handle. but she deserved this. she deserved to feel so shitty, she was shitty. she ruined everything good she had, her relationships and job. a repeated process, be happy for a while and then fuck everything up. “who would care if she fucked one more thing?” was the thought that ran through her head, crimson covering the sink.

your mind can only think about the things it shouldn't

your brain is filled with thoughts of wishing that ya didn't

little sara, perk your ears up, try to listen

but she can't hear a sound because she's locked in a prison

the room was loud, but the noise sounded so far away as she dazed off. she was brought back to reality by luke swinging his arm over her shoulder, pulling her close. the sudden movement made her quietly hiss as her arm brushed against him, the fresh wounds in the back of her mind. she forced a smile on her face, looking to luke who gently kissed her forehead. he offered her a beer, to which she took, ignoring the concerned look on quinn’s face. she had been drinking all night  but luke didn't have to know that. it slowed the thoughts, so how could it be a bad thing?

luke began to chat with his brothers and their friends, oblivious to the smile that had dropped from her face. oblivious to the fact that she was practically chugging the beer in hopes to stop the horrible thoughts that had begun to invade her brain once more.

and she was oblivious to the concerned looks of her boyfriend and friends as she abruptly got up, walking outside. she sat down, pulling the cigarette from its box, lighting it. she took a drag, jumping when a voice spoke up:

“you’re killing yourself, you know that?” she whipped her head around to see quinn standing there with his hands in his pockets. “does luke know you smoke?”

“why do you care?” she snapped, turning to look back at the yard. it was quiet, crickets chirping being the only thing making noise. she ignored quinn as he sat beside her, taking another drag. she held back her tears, not wanting to break down in front of her boyfriend’s oldest brother.

“he loves you, you know? the way he looks at you says it all. you're good for him. i don’t think i've seen him this happy in a long time.” she forced a small smile at quinn’s attempt to comfort her. he was lying, he had to be, because who could love a fuck up like her?

all your friends they wanna smoke 'cause it's a friday

but you've been smoking straight probably since last sunday

i know you know you shouldn't say that you are okay

but you still look 'em in the eye and lie then go to use your ashtray

she was high, but when was she not? the boys passed around the blunt, each taking drags from it. they were joking around, jack and trevor wrestling beside her. luke held her close, his fingers gently running down her arm. she ignored the burning sensation that occurred when luke’s fingers accidentally brushed over her wound, a smile plastered on her face. luke seemed to be the only who didn’t notice that the smile didn’t meet her eyes. she huffed out a laugh at a joke made by cole, settling her head against luke’s shoulder. for a moment, she felt happy; carefree. 

that all ended when that singular thought crossed her mind: they hate you. such a simple thought, but she felt as though she had been sucker punched. she subtly shifted off of luke, who seemingly didn’t notice. she twiddled with her thumbs, ignoring the feeling of someone looking at her. she felt jack nudge her, handing her the blunt. she accepted it, unable to really meet his eyes. “you okay?” quinn mouthed to her when she met his eyes. 

“yeah.” she lied through her teeth, averting her eyes and grabbing the ashtray.

little sara, last night, you got it bad

in that moment, you could barely even

add up two or three reasons why you're glad

and i guess that's why you grabbed your pen and pad

it was 6:14, and you could barely even read

all the words you'd written down when it was time for you to leave

your phone was on the ground and you could barely hear it ring

couldn't even hear a sound, couldn't feel a single thing

nights were the worst. being alone in her thoughts led to serious consequences, this night no different. she did what she was suppose to, all the coping skills she had learned. still, she couldn’t come up with any reason to stick around, which is why she now sat at her desk, scribbling rapidly. she couldn’t hardly read the words on the paper, tears cascading down her rosy cheeks as she practically destroyed her desk in search of the blade. the distance sound of her phone ringing stopped her for a moment, the contact name and picture for luke clear on her phone. she pushed the second-guessing thoughts aside, muting the call.

luke swore when she once again did not pick up, the text that started this now open: i love you, lukey. i hope you can forgive me. he swore to himself, angry that he had missed the signs. as he thought about it, the signs were so clear, how could he have not noticed? he begged for jack to drive faster, dialing her number once more. luke wiped his tears as jack sped up, praying for her to be okay. he hoped he would make it in time, to be there when she needed him most.

now it's 6:15, and you're on your knees

blood is on your sleeves, and your lungs won't breathe

eyes are watering, body's shivering

and you're wondering what is happening

now it's 6:23, and they're on their knees

begging "jesus please, can you make her breathe?"

'cause they finally see what was happening

underneath their nose and underneath your sleeves 

she sat against her bed, sobs racking through her body. her chest was tight, her breaths short as she began to lose consciousness. she began to shiver uncontrollably, curling into herself to create any kind of warmth. she looked up when the door was kicked in, her vision blurring. her eyes fluttered close as luke ran to her side, her life slowly leaving her body. 

“get something to stop the bleeding!” luke yelled to jack who was frozen under the doorframe. he snapped out of it, grabbing the blanket that was balled up on her bed. he began to put pressure on her wounds as luke pleaded with her to wake up. they continued this until the paramedics arrived, luke hesitant to leave her side. for the first time in a long time, luke cried into his brother’s shoulder. and he swore to himself that he would never miss the signs again.

she can barely see the pavement

she can barely read the signs

people think she's complicated

but never wanna look inside

'cause she's a little too r-rated

and they're a little too damn blind

she's just looking for her angels

but they're a little hard to find

[lightreader1]

Fanfic idea- Supernatural Atsushi AU part 2

Note: @Venelona made some awesome fanart and now I must respectfully respond in kind with my rambling ideas! Hope ya’ll enjoy this one! 

Also technically this idea could stand alone as its own thing but for context on this Drabble please click here for part 1:  https://www.tumblr.com/lightreader1/779777145352454144/fanfic-idea-supernatural-atsushi-au-part-1-note?source=share

Anyways again I hope yall enjoy reading and leave a comment if you are so inclined! : D

————————————————————————————————————

Prompt: Atsushi is a tiger yokai that had been sealed into a tree, he yearned for freedom only to be saved centuries later by a suicidal human.

Actual idea- 

So as the prompt explains Atsushi is a tiger yokai that has been sealed into a tree for centuries.

Now I imagine that while sealed inside of a tree Atsushi isn’t completely unaware of the passing of time it’s just incredibly warped. 

Like being on the cusps of sleep, he’s just awake enough to make a few minutes feel like hours. 

He can murmurs and noises from the world around his tree but can’t exactly make out the words. 

He’s lonely and hates being in the darkness of his own mind. 

He misses the one he loves, he misses the sun, the stars, the mountains, and even the sight of other yokai. 

As the centuries pass by he becomes more depressed in the tree as he beings to forget what the world outside of the tree was like. He worries that maybe the life he had before was not even real, just a figment of his imagination.

That perhaps the yokai actually did kill him and this was the punishment for not being strong enough to survive. 

And so he waits and eventually losing hope that he would ever be free of this hell. 

That is until Dazai comes along.

——————————————— 

(Now in this universe Dazai is around his cannon age of 22 but is still in the mafia, my reasoning? Odasaku did still die but Dazai just didn’t make it in time to hear his final words. So lets just say he’s still rather dark but also really hates Mori aaaaaannnnnndddddd maybe is planning on eventually killing him to take over but that is neither here nor there lol)

Anyways Dazai and some of his men are tracking an enemy gang in one of more rural area’s of Yokohama. This leads them to a rundown shrine where that the gang has been using as a home base. 

As expected of Port mafia executive Dazai he completely demolishes them but is disappointed that he still survived the encounter. So he decides to take a walk about the area while his men take care of cleaning and getting information out of a couple of survivors. 

He comes to a huge decorated tree that seems so out of place in Yokohama, so in typical Dazai fashion he goes over to touch it and be poetic about his thoughts. 

He doesn’t expect to feel “No longer human” activate he touched the tree. 

So he was quite surprised by a huge gush of wind knocks him back on his ass as the centuries old decorations around the tree are broken.

He grabs his gun and expects to see some sort of ability user. But instead he see’s an incredibly beautiful but hurt young man wearing an old fashioned kimono fall out of the tree’s tuck, seemingly in a confused daze. 

But as Dazai continues to observe he notices that not only is the man’s injuries healing in mere seconds but that he has tiger ears and tail.

He’s obviously a skill user, he has to be, there is no other explanation for everything that just happened. 

But then the tiger man seems to become more aware and starts looking at everything with a fascination that Dazai has only seen in children. 

Then the man-tiger finally notices him and in a blink of an eye small soft hands are holding the hand not occupied with his gun. 

So of course he carefully watches and is amazed to find that the ears and tail do not dissapear, and when the creature finally looks up at him Dazai’s breath catches at the pure joy in those violet and gold eyes. 

And Atsushi, Atsushi is so grateful to this human who had unknowingly freed him from his hell. 

———————————————————————————

From there on Atsushi latches onto Dazai.

He feels like he owes Dazai a life-debt so in order to repay him he offers himself and his abilities to the mafioso.

Of course Dazai is equally fascinated and cautious. 

Because what the hell, this shouldn’t be possible! He should’ve nullified the tiger’s ability but he seemingly has no ability even though he heals at an insanely quick rate and again has tiger features!

Though Dazai becomes more and more intrigued by Atsushi as time goes on. 

Turns out the tiger cannot only heal himself but also others. 

(Yea my headcannon is that the main reason tiger yokai was hated by other yokai is because they were known as neutral party healers. They had the capacity for great strength but they just instinctively preferred to heal others instead. 

Which made other yokai hate them because they made killing their enemies incredibly hard. 

But also Tiger yokai bones could be used as a cure all medicine that would not only heal but also strengthen a person. 

So yea thats the reason why yokai tigers were hunted and hated in Atsushi’s time).

So much to Dazai’s annoyance Atsushi continues to thwart Dazai’s sucicide attempts by constantly healing him. 

He tries to scare the tiger off by showing him how dark the mafia can be, and yet the tiger is not phased and instead keeps trying to find other ways to make him happy.

Their bond grows as Atsushi starts falling in love with his exasperating but silly human who keeps trying to kill himself.

In a way Atsushi can empathize with Dazai’s disillusionment with the world but wants to show him how absolutely wonderful the world can be (espiescally since he spent so long in total isolation and darkness), he just wants Dazai to live a long and happy life. 

Meanwhile Dazai is again kinda annoyed by Atsushi  and tries to scare him off but is unsuccessful, instead he is constantly entertained by Atsushi’s antics and surprised by this gentle but fiercely protective creature that declares his loyalty towards him.

They do eventually bond even more when they share their grief about losing their loved ones (Oda/Arahbaki).

Dazai keeps denying himself this relationship, keeps convincing himself that the tiger is nothing but a useful new tool that he can use and play with as he pleases. 

(Cause you know Dazai is an asshole in denial.) 

But this all comes to a head when his usually affectionate and loyal tiger suddenly tackle hugs the damn slug.

It pisses him off even more when the tiger starts clinging to him and calling the slug “Anata”.

(For context in Japanese wives usually refer to their husband as “Anata”, from my understanding it’s another way to say beloved or darling.) 

This of course pisses Dazai off.

Because Atsushi is his tiger! 

Atsushi promised to stay with him and like hell is he going to just sit by and let that home wrecking slug just steal him away!

And I can just imagine Dazai pulling Atsushi off of a confused and freaked out Chuuya and glaring at him while holding Atsushi possessively.

Ya know all the drama! XD 

[cxndiedvi0lets]

Looking for help

TW: Verbal and Physical Abuse, Suicide, Self-Harm, Eating Disorder, Sexual Harrassment, Mental Health, Animal Abuse

For anyone who's reading this, I just want to say thank you, and even if I'm desperately seeking for help. I'm not tagging anyone. You may know me as Violet or CxndiedVi0lets on Tumblr, and I've been blogging a lot in a while.

I've had severe episodes in the past where I may have been acting too extremely or even at this rate suicide. I've already had the mindset at the age of 5, and honestly, I'm really tired of pulling this act.

I honestly just don't want to be in this household anymore.

Over the years, my mental health has become progressively worse, and I've tried to seek help from a psychiatrist and a psychologist and have been diagnosed with severe depression along with psychotic episodes which well knownly for my anxiety and impulsive nature of BPD which of course, my impulse is no excuse but I'm not saying its not hard to control.

I stopped seeing a clinic because of my brilliant and intelligent father, who simply seemed to know everything. Then, continues to mock me for my condition.

So, I stopped on medications and everything else even if I was progressively getting worse, not only mentally but as well as physically.

I begin to fail a lot of my subjects and further have been neglecting my health but, Its not what im going through details.

The part where I've really finally snapped is when he threatened to kill my cats, and I've stopped telling them everything because they always use my past against me or remind it as a "safety precaution." I was sexually assaulted at the age of 7, which lasted until I was 12 before my grandfather was kicked out. To say the least things weren't going smoothly, I thought to myself it never affected me but didn't realized it had affected me in ways of self-destruction thinking it was just a normal cycle of a hormonal teenager which I won't elaborate my acts on which you can decide on.

I've had a lot going on in school. I've been sexually assaulted by a classmate recently, but I never elaborated on it, and his acts on me because I didn't wanna make a biggee deal of what I'm going through, even if it is over. I still see his face every day in school, passing by, he was just changed courses and I tried my best to make myself unrecognisable by changing how I dress and my looks which also kind of resulted me getting bullied lol and having my name written on those ridiculous smash or pass books degrading me and objectifying me. It didn't bother me... or at least I think it didn't. I've had a lot of rumours spread around me, and I have been oversexualising myself and making up stories to sound like im a whore. Stereotypical american netflix high school stuff huh?

And yet, I go back home to be used as my father's punching bag (literally) even when it's my mom's fault. It's always the case, and he always justifies it that me being beaten up despised getting bruised was for lecturing me or whatever, lol.

I also hate the fact that they'd even keep more pets like dogs just to have as a toy then neglect them once they begin to have health conditions and continue to get more than complain about them. They don't even have any remorse if they're dying or sick.

Same way of how my father used to lock me up and forced me not to eat cause I dropped a plate accidentally once lol.

I rarely eat, especially when they're around, and they like to complain about why I don't eat with them. I just like to say im not hungry, and now I dont actually feel any hunger at all, and some point that stress led me to gaining weight and overeating which of course led into other health complications. Like bleeding. Anyways skipping on that.

I honestly don't know what to do trying to hide a façade like this anymore, I just want to die or run away im never happy with literally anything. I can't feel anything, I've gotten used to so much pain, I just don't even react to it even when they start swearing at me or calling me names or anything. I don't feel human at all.

I just wish someone could help me maybe leave me advise or maybe send me something on my paypal just so I can earn to get out of this place. I honestly don't care if they think im selfish, I've had enough of this life.

[bethanysmiled]

uughghg I feel so disconnected from this username but I'll put it under a cut. CW: suicide/death mention

As an artist, I'm always changing in some way. I always accept the changes wholeheartedly, bc that's what growth is. I feel this username is associated with a part of me who is gone now and I worry sometimes people except a certain sort of content, which I obviously wouldn't force myself to produce. I heavily associate this username with a horrific time in my life bc things began to get really rough around the time I began to use this username and then ofc I went on long hiatuses during the use of this username. My sister's death was not an overnight event. Her physical and mental health deteriorated over the course of years. During those years, it consumed me entirely. Mind, body and soul. That's when I became less and less active. That chapter of my life was horrific, but it has passed. When I say 'passed', I mean to say that my sister is gone and will never come back to me. I am existing in a way I never have before, I'm learning to cope and carry on without someone who made up half of my fucking soul and shaped me in too many ways to count. I'm now in a new place mentally and physically, and using this old username really just reminds me of the difficult times and the art I had created back then. I also draw Fortune much less bc my sister and I heavily bonded over her. She became a comfort character for my sister, and she drew her almost daily for me and made me various other gifts. I often see Fortune now as someone who harbors sadness and loss. It's not entirely the case, but in a lot of ways its hard to draw her now. She was my happiness, and I am blessed she was happiness for my sister too. Now, it's hard to find that comfort in her. Anyway, those reasons are why I want to change my username but have no ideas! ALL of my usernames have been inspired by BMSR/Tobacco in the past but I haven't really connected to any songs lately. WOW rant but it's been on my mind for years. If I go with a new username, I won't abandon this account or anything. At least I'm super happy to say I've finally connected to a new nickname! I have been going by Pony for a long time now, I wish it were my real name lol But it's really really nice to have found a connection with a nickname. Anyway thank you for reading and for following me through all my ups and downs and hiatuses and changes.

edit also:

I still heavily associate with the word ‘hole’, so it would be cool to find username with that word. I love the idea of holes and not knowing what is in them. I also have a connection to sunflowers in more recent years, but the word is so long. Idk! Usernames tend to just come to me, so that’s partially why I haven’t officially moved on from this username even tho I have tried 💀 I always revert back bc others didn’t feel right. Anyway.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

July 26th

~*~

1. hi! pease help me find this fic because i really want to re read this.

junior quartet got sent back around sunshot campaign (i think?) because in the future, the four were there in the guanyin temple face off with jgy, together with lxc, lwj, wwx, and jwy. they were really losing and the seniors told the juniors that they're going to find a way to get out of there. turns out, the seniors sacrificed their life to send the juniors to the past through an array but the juniors didn't know about this. jin guangyao also went back in time because he got into the array in time.

here are some details that im not sure if they're are a part of the fic or it's from others (my mind sometimes mix things up). i hope these help:

- jingyi found young jingyi when they were sent back.

- the juniors went to burial mounds and the people there wer skeptical about them

- later part of the fic, zizhen was not accepted in his family (i forgot why) @moonyramie

FOUND? ❤️ Tragedy is Not the End by Hobbsy3 (T, 358k, wangxian, Time Travel, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal, Canon Divergence from Qiongqi Pass, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Yunmeng sibling bonding, good dad wwx, good dad lwj, JZX Lives, JYL Lives, Junior Quartet Dynamics)

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2. Hello there again! Im looking for this one sci-fi fic where wei wuxian was a scientist and lan wangji was a military soldier. They met during an Alien invation. In the fic they try to figure out how to kill the aliens or how they even got in earth. Thankyou!

FOUND? Number 2 sounds like Son of a SoliderMan, by FireAwayy, who deleted it and quite a few other Untamed fics because of harassment. // Also had Jiang Cheng and Wen Ning as ambulance drivers, Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue and Song Lan as solders who were sent into the area.

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3. Hi! This is for ficfinder. I read this fic a few years ago. Its MDZSXTGCF crossover. Im not familiar with TGCF so maybe there will be some incorrect use of some term and relationship. WWX dies after he jump from a clif and then he become ghost in the ghost city. He work/become a friend with hua cheng. WWX wore a weimao (its either weimao or a red umbrella). HC and XL then feel some disturbance and with WWX they visit a place where they jail jun wu (?) In some mountain. But when they arrive, the jailer tells them its not jun wu. HC, XL, and WWX then continue their investigation and they meet with LXC and NMJ. I think there WWX identity is revealed to LXC and NMJ. They found out that the disturbance is because of yin iron that are thrown to the magma in nighless city acting up. To stop that WWX sacrifice himself and he died again. When i read that fic its still ongoing but i dont know what this fic status right know. Thats all i can remember. Thank you! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

FOUND! Hi! Im #3 i just found the fic. Its 🔒Can we skip to the Good Part? by pink-lotus-pods (kkomaism) (T, 107k, HuaLian, WangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, YLLZ WWX, HuaLian are in Love , Married HuaLian, Slow Build, Canon Temporary Character Death, Ghost WWX, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Character Study, Panic Attacks, WWX Has a Mental Breakdown, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, unbearable amounts of sexual tension, Suicidal Thoughts, mild but it’s still there!, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Genius WWX)

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4. For fic finder, please! I am looking for a modern fic where Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are raising Jin Ling together and they had a happy little family life, but struggled financially. The two were strippers who eventually catch the eye of Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji who begin to tip them ludicrous amounts of money. I remember the fic laid out their salaries and tips and they were making hundreds of thousands of dollars but they still bemoaned that they were broke and struggling. My confusion over their finances is what I remember most about this fic, lol. Would love to read again, if this rings a bell for anyone! Thank you!

FOUND! Silk & Satin by Brieeze01 (E, 171k, WangXian, LXC/JC, Modern, Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Pole Dancing, Falling In Love, Love Confessions, Idiots in Love, Child LSZ, Child JL, supportive brothers, hardworking brothers, Uncles and nephews, Love Story, Emotions, brokeass pole dancers meet billionaire bachelor brothers, Kinks, Lipstick, High Heels, Blindfolds, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Gentle Sex, Lube, Strip Tease, Dancing, Dirty Dancing, First Kiss, First Time, Love Bites, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Romance, Silk, satin, Slow Burn, Happy Ending, Wholesome, Pining, kink appreciation, healthy family relationship, Healthy Relationships, Everybody uses lube, Lapdance)

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5. Hi I was wondering if you know about a certain fic that takes place during the cloud releases study arc. Where Wei Wuxian wakes up one day suddenly and inexplicably pregnant with an egg. I'm pretty sure its incomplete but I read it a while ago and it was interesting. One of the main parts I remember is Jiang Cheng asking/trying to convince Wei Wuxian that he's not pregnant and it's just a "food baby". @wolfcubx2

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6. Hi! First of all thank you for the existence of this blog, I'm pretty sure it's saved my sanity more than once at this point! I'm looking for a post-canon fic where wwx is telling lwj something like "of course I died screaming, I was being torn apart, but I died calling your name bc you were the only good thing I had in my life"

Unfortunately I can't remember whether it was a long fic or a short fic, or even the rest of the plot, I read too many to keep track lololol so I don't have anything else to go on, but that part really stuck out to me and I wondered if it might ring any bells for anyone else! (And if nothing else I might get a different fantastic recommendation out of the deal!!)

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7. looking for this fic, I don’t remember much but it was abo, modern au with wei ying as an omega and lz as an alpha. there was a part in it where wei ying was presenting to lan zhan and lan zhan was thinking something along the lines of omegas don’t actually do that anymore, or something like that.

FOUND? Tastes Like You by airinshaw (E, 30k, WangXian, A/B/O Dynamics, Modern AU, Alpha LWJ, Scenting, Claiming Bites, Getting Together, Light Dom/sub)

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8. Hello Hello!!!! So I've scrolled through 20+ pages of my Ao3 history for a fic but can't find it. So I'm hoping yall can help!! Lan Wanji was a vampire who lives alone in the woods away from humans and his family. Wei Wuxian was a traveling merchant who ends up crashing Lan Wanji's place. He breaks the man's privacy by entering a room containing a portrait of Lan Wanji's mom, this inturn leads to Wei Wuxian being kicked out. Lan Wanji feels guilty after a bit and goes out to find him. Wei Wuxian ends up in a bad situation and Lan Wanji attempts to save him. They both end up in like a ravine and Wei Wuxian is near death. The two kiss and Wei Wuxian purposefully cuts his tongue on Lan Wanji's fang. At the taste of Wei Wuxian's blood Lan Wanji goes feral and bites his neck. Wei Wuxian dies right then and there, Lan Wanji is convinced he killed him despite desperately trying to turn him into a vampire. Lan Wanji was successful after a few minutes of mouring and hating himself Wei Wuxian comes to. It ends with a time skip to vampire Wei Wuxian buying something in a market dressed in a sun hat and long sleeves buying something for Lan Wanji @crimson-gay-sought-flower

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9. Hi! Do you know the fic where there's a scene with WWX taking the Wen Remnants away and LWJ is his husband and they kiss goodbye but then WWX tells them no one saw that? I think it might have been a arranged marriage au .. @abijo2024-blog

FOUND? seldom all they seem by Fahye (E, 25k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, or rather Arranged Betrothal, followed by Weapons-Grade Thirst) They're engaged rather than married during the rain scene, but I'd say everything else fits. Hope that helps!

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10. Hi!! I'm looking for a fic where wei ying gets his original body back and absolutely no one recognises him. Wei ying doesn't realise this though and walks around gusu in lan clothing. However people start to think lan wangi's gotten a new consort and get mad at him for doing that to wei ying. @louvoilite

FOUND? Is Your Old Body Considered a Halloween Costume? by The_peregrine_falcon (G, 3k, WangXian, WWX's original body, Junior quartet makes an appearance, LWJ is chief cultivator, Fluff,Canon Compliant, Post-Canon) but I don't recall the villagers thinking he was a new consort

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11. Hello I'm DESPERATELY looking for a Tumblr fic, it's relatively short, in which a demonic cultivation is brought forth to the sects in a conference, and he asks for incense and prays to WWX who, lo and behold, is a sleeping god. Please help??

FOUND?🔒Calling Heaven by mondengel (Not Rated, 2k, WangXian, God au)

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12. Fic finder please! I am looking for a fic that I can’t remember if it was time travel (like WWX went back in time) or if it just was au starting with him as a child. Child/teen WWX joins a theatre troupe and he performs a veiled dance at a Nie gathering and teen Huaisang tries to propose to him thinking that WWX was a beautiful female dancer. It is only several years later that they meet again and realize they had that shared moment. It is a WangXian fic, but this is the scene I remember!

FOUND! The Darkness Before Dawn by PsycheStellata707 (M, 113k, WangXian, WIP, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, BAMF WWX, Attempt at Humor, PTSD, Oblivious WWX, WWX-centric, Blind WWX, Sentient Burial Mounds, Everyone Lives AU, Except Those Who Deserves to Die, Oblivious Pining, Not Canon Compliant)

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13. Soo ik it's a discontinued fanfic of wanxian , and I'm not sure if it's been deleted or the name is changed but, it was on Wattpad i think, and was called 'i will fix everything ' it starts with Wei yung returning in time to when he was at gusu lan for learning, he is sitting in class when he opens his eyes and is shocked by this fact , but then he sees suibian near him and he unsheathed the sword and slit his throat. later it goes as he shows his memories to everyone and they find a way to save

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14. Hello,

I'm looking for a fic, set Modern day, no magic, where Wei Ying runs away/is kicked out? during high-school and years later Lan Zhan finds him at a framers market/ crowded street? .. the scene I remembered specifically that led me to trying to find it is Lan Zhan calling Jiang Yanli and saying "I found him" after seeing him in the streets, and her thinking he means like at a morgue so she starts crying and so he continues with "I found him alive" ...I think Wei Ying also lives with the wens on their farm ...  I realize that that is not alot of information to go on but I read it so long ago, its all i remember, I can't even remember if it is worth searching for to reread but that didn't stop me from spending 3 hours looking before giving up and finding this page to ask

Thank you for taking your free time to to help random people find lost fics! @cassie-joy567

FOUND? clean from the war (your heart fits like a key) by sysrae (E, 28k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reunions, past xy/wwx, xy is fucked up but not evil because it's a modern AU and I said so, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, past wwx/jfm, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Abuse, Rape Recovery, transphobic violence, Victim Blaming, Past wwx/others, allusions to past self-harm)

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15. Here I am again, begging on my knees: can you help me find a fic where wwx finds a book describing a shrine to a good he's never heard about, and goes out to find it. He ends up discovering lwj ascended a long time ago, but he is bound and his temples were burned and devotees killed by the sects, lead by the Lan. Turns out they bound and imprisoned his body and he can only manifest in his temples, and WWX helps him escape the confinement. It is (was?) a WIP, featuring Wangji and Bichen having human forms, lwj is the one who helps wwx master demonic cultivation, creepy rituals that transfer the conscience of a past sect leader into Xichen, and the one who received wwx's golden core is jyl. Please?

FOUND!🔒 We'll Build This House on Stone (Altars) by FluffyHippogriff (E, 270k, WangXian, WIP, Romance, Supernatural Elements, Old God LWJ, Dumb Baby WWX, Friendship, WWX Finds an Ancient Altar, what happens next will shock you, Hijinks & Shenanigans, YLLZ WWX, There's Always a Price, But For Once It's Not WWX's Sweet Bod, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Chapters Will Be Individually Tagged, Bichen Sword, Wàngjī Guqin, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Bichen)

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16. Hi I have been looking for a fic I read and cannot find where Wei Wuxian doesn't realise he and Lan Zhan are dating. I believe it had a scene where the two of them go grocery shopping and run into Lan Zhan's ex, Mo Xuanyu, who tries to persuade Lan Zhan that they should get back together. Obviously, since he believes he has now started seeing Wei Ying he says no. There was something about Wei Ying secretly picking up ice cream for Lan Zhan. If anyone can remember it that would be fabulous, thanks! @funny-it-worked-last-time

FOUND! without your new eyes by anaphoricae (E, 66k, WangXian, Modern, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Sexuality Discovery, Self-Discovery, Literal Sleeping Together, mentions of WWX/others and LWJ/others, Drunk LWJ, Teacher LWJ, WWX is a… throws dart… computer scientist, No Angst, Jealous WWX, Flirty WWX, Eventual Smut, Bottom LWJ, Fluff, Non-Sexual Intimacy, WWX's Love Language is Physical Touch, Guess what: even more non-sexual sleeping together, the plot of the fic is just… co-sleeping, call it the Nap Fic ™, Podfic Available, WWX isn't so much 'oblivious' as he is wilfully blocking some feelings subconsciously, WWX 'idk how I feel' to 'I'm gonna marry him' pipeline)

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17. Hello, I’m looking for a short M or E rated fic, modern au, where wwx talks on social media, likely TikTok, about the benefits of having an older partner who knows exactly what he wants and communicates that clearly. Lwj is older than wwx and has some sort of corporate/business job. There is a chance this was a single chapter in larger work that is a collection of short fics.

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18. Hi! I'm trying to find a Lán Qǐrén/Wēn Ruòhán fic that was deleted on ao3. The title was "God & Monsters." I don't know the author's exact name but I know it had "jupiter" in the username. It's an time travel fic where LQR goes back in time when he was younger during his studies at cloud recesses with WRH, JFM, YZY, etc. I just know it's not "Cursed couple." @cherry1928rev

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19. Argh! For FF, I'm looking for a time travel fixit where Su Minshan time travels and nopes out of CR study arc. It's written in his pov, and he's kind of Indiana Jonesing it, studying the burial mounds for forgotten magics. ANYWAY hope think it would be easy to find Su Minshan redemption/time travel as being reasonably unique, but no. I even failed to bookmark it so help!! @mreisse

FOUND? Dark Promises Amid Rising Screams by meyari (M, 88k, SheYao, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Unreliable Narrator, Major character death, Not Really Character Death, Discussion of Genocide, PTSD, Chronic anxiety, Panic Attacks, Warning: JGS, Warning: WRH, Mind Control, Canon-Typical Violence, Politics, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Sacrifice, Asexual Relationship, Aromantic Relationship, Aro/Ace SS, Aro/Ace MY)

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20. Hi! I remember having read this fic where Lan Zhan is face blind and didn't really notice Wei Wuxian came back to life in a different body, because he just recognised wwx's behavior. It was a very sweet fic and I'd love to read it again, but I totally forgot what it was called and I don't think I bookmarked it :(

I'm pretty sure I read it on ao3, but perhaps it could have just been a tumblr post.

I hope someone knows which fic I'm talking about, but I'm also open to other fics where Lan Zhan (or other characters) are face blind. @ifyourelostjustlookforme

FOUND! Faces by osiesaur (G, 1k, WangXian, lwj is faceblind, wwx and lwj are both learning to communicate better, WWX in MXY's body, they're married, LWJ POV)

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[evanpeterswhoresblog]

so, i was thinking about tate fitting into the yandere trope (more than he already does lol) and being extremely obsessed with reader and when he decides to tell her about his feelings she tells him she's already in love with someone else. tate doesn't accept that, cause if he cant have her, nobody else cant

oh, i had fun with this one. hope you like it :)

~~~

His Obsession

Tate Langdon x f!reader

warnings: murder, torture, hints of smut, hints of suicide, stalking, very bad obsession (as the title says lol), abusive relationship, manipulation, idk what else

summary: since the moment he saw you moving in, tate knew you were going to be his. no matter what.

word count: 2.5k

~~~

Tate watches as you flip through the pages of your magazine. You’re lying on your bed, music blasting in your ears. Even if he was visible to you, he doubts you’d even know he’s there. You’re too busy looking at pictures of clothes and celebrities. You hum along to the song playing, your voice soft like velvet. What once made his invisible heart race now makes him sick. He feels a tear roll down his cheek as he watches you. How can you be so content? How?

He’s been watching you for months, half of it without your knowledge. He knew the second he saw you moving in with your family he needed to have you. He remembers watching you unpack boxes, making what used to be his room now yours. Within the first week of you being there, he warned every other ghost in the house to stay away. You are his, only his.

The first time he revealed himself to you, he pretended to be the boy next door. He remembers the look on your face as if it were yesterday. You stared at him with a look that made him almost feel as though he were alive again. It was like heaven. You let him hang out with you in your room, the connection between the two of you forming immediately. He remembers how easily you opened up to him, and how within only a week you wanted to be his friend. It went just as he planned.

On Halloween he took you out to the beach, it was the best night of his life. He often thinks back to how that night went. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore as you opened your legs for him for the first time. You were so willing, it almost made him angry. But he knew it must’ve been hard to resist him for that month before Halloween, so he gave you a pass on it.

He remembers everything about that night. The way you told him he was the sweetest boy you’ve ever met, the way you looked at him as though he was the only boy in the world. Even though he was the one who kissed you, you didn’t object for one second. In fact, you were the one who laid back on the towel and started to slide your pants off. He remembers how gentle he was with you, how he almost let it slip that he was in love with you. The way you made him feel that night was a feeling he never felt before in life or death. You were so warm, so tight. He could barely contain himself. It was everything he had dreamed of and more.

After that night, his obsession only grew. Suddenly, almost every time the two of you saw each other, you had sex. He thought you were in love with him too, so he let it happen. At least, that’s what he tells himself. Each time you came on to him, he felt like he was floating. You wanted him. You wanted him to do things to you that were special, that made two people as close as they could be. It felt like an honor.

“Oh Tate,” you’d moan. “You’re perfect.”

He would look at you, no matter what position, and think about how lucky he was to be with you. You were the girl of his dreams, his obsessions. He loved you more than anyone. If he could, he would die for you, he would kill for you. Both without a second thought. Even now, he still would.

Right now, he wipes the tear that fell down his cheek and reveals himself. He walks over to you, tapping you lightly. You flinch, but once you realize it’s him you smile and take off your headphones, patting the spot next to you on the bed for him to lay.

“Have you been here long?” You ask.

Tate shakes his head and gets onto your bed. “No, not really.”

“Oh, that’s good. All I’ve done today is be lazy. I actually thought about calling you but then my mom gave me this to read,” you say. You turn your head and he watches as you really look at his face. “Were you crying?”

“No, just allergies,” he lies.

“Are you sure?”

He nods. “I uh just came here to talk about what you said last time we saw each other.”

“Yeah...” you say, your smile disappearing. “I’m really sorry for that, I just thought you should know about him.”

“Who is he?” Tate asks. He doesn’t know whether he wants to cry or kill somebody. Perhaps he wants both.

“Just a guy from one of my classes. I don’t really know how it happened, we just clicked. Don’t think this means I don’t want to stop talking though Tate, of course I still want to see you. I just think we should strictly only be friends, nothing like what we were doing,” you answer.

Tate scoffs. “What we were? I thought we were in love, I thought you were my girlfriend. You told me you loved me.”

“And I do love you Tate, just not in the way you love me. You’re like my best friend, of course I have love for you,” you reply, only making the anger build inside him.

“You don’t hook up with your best friend,” he says. He stands up, his anger taking control. He runs his hands through his hair, he needs to calm down. “You told me you needed me. You told me I was your perfect boy. How is that friendly?”

You sit up, looking ashamed. “I don’t know. Maybe I thought I was in love with you but then I met Jake.”

Tate takes a deep breath before climbing back on the bed and taking your hands in his. You look him in the eye, guilt all over your face. He can’t help but want to kiss you. He wants all of this to be some sick joke, he wants you to take it back. How could you have him convinced the two of you were in love for months then one day say that’s never what it was? How could a person do that? More specifically though, how could you do that to him?

“I’m sorry Tate,” you mumble. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“So, take it back y/n, forget about this guy and stay with me. I want you to be mine, forever, I can’t ever just be your friend,” he replies.

You shake your head, tears forming in your eyes. “That can’t happen, it would never work out.”

“Yes, it would. Y/n, I will never let anyone, or anything hurt you, I’ll love you till the end of time I swear,” he argues. He lifts one of his hands and gently wipes a tear from your face. “Please.”

“Tate...” you whisper.

He doesn’t think before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. He needs this, even if it’s the last time it ever happens. It’s no surprise that you don’t push him away, he knows you can’t help yourself either. Your lips move slowly against his. Both of you are crying now, your tears mix. But after only a few minutes he pulls away.

“You want me too, you know you do deep down,” he mumbles.

“It wouldn’t work, we’re not a good fit.”

“Your mind has been poisoned by that other guy; did you tell him about me?”

You nod.

“He just wants to turn you against me, he’s jealous of what we have,” Tate whispers.

His eyes are soft, tears still streaming down his face. He almost lets out a sob when you reach out and touch his face. Your sweet hands could never hurt a fly. He wraps his arms around you and pulls your body against his in a hug. It’s comforting, he loves how warm you are. He can hear your heart beat, it’s beautiful. He lies the two of you back down on the bed, his head resting on your chest.

“I can’t keep fighting without you,” he says.

“I know,” you reply. You move your fingers through his blond curls, he feels at peace.

“You make the bad thoughts go away, you make me feel normal,” he continues in a soft tone. “If you leave me, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

He looks up at you and sees how hard you’re trying not to cry. It pains him. He moves on top of you, his face hovering over yours. Your eyes are full of so many emotions, Tate can’t read them all. He leans down once again and kisses you. There are so many emotions flowing through the both of you and they all come out in this kiss. But this time, it becomes more than just a kiss.

Soon enough the two of you are doing what you do best, and even though he’s hurt Tate still can’t get enough of it. He slides inside of you gently, just like the first time. You drag your fingernails across his back, your head thrown back. Tate loves the expressions that form on your face, so fucking pretty.

He leans his head down so his lips are right next to your ear and whispers under his breath, “No one will ever make you feel as good as this, never.”

You don’t reply.

~~~

The first day you bring that guy over Tate watches darkly from the shadows. He hears what you say to him, the same things you used to say when the two of you were together. It makes him sick. He thought you changed your mind, but the day after everything went down you went back to your previous choice. You want Jake, not Tate. But he’s not going to let that happen.

When he goes to use the bathroom Tate strikes. He knocks him out with one swift blow to the head and drags his body down the stairs and into the basement. He ties him up in a chair and takes his phone, quickly texting you saying he had to go home early. Tate knows you won’t go down into the basement; it’s always scared you. He’s glad.

The guy, Jake, wakes up after ten minutes. He starts screaming, but his mouth is duct taped shut. He wiggles in the chair, it amuses Tate. He moves so fast the chair almost falls over, that’s when Tate emerges from the shadows. Jake stares at him, his eyes wide.

“I bet you’re wondering why you’re here right now,” Tate starts, Jake tries to rip out of the duct tape. “I can understand wanting her, I want her too. She’s the prettiest, sweetest, most wonderful girl I think either of us will ever know.”

He walks close to Jake, his dark eyes locked on him. “Only one of us can have her though and it’s going to be me. You see, once she starts to realize you aren’t returning her calls anymore, she’s going to be upset, and she’ll run back to me so fast you’ll just be a bad memory.”

Jake squirms in the chair as Tate walks back into the darkness. He returns within seconds though, a bloody stained hammer in his hand. The boy in the chair screams into the duct tape, it almost makes Tate smile. He walks to him again, stopping only a foot away.

“She’s mine, and you’re going to die with that thought in your head.”

With that, Tate starts to smash the hammer into the other boy's head, the sound of his skull cracking like music to his ears. He doesn’t go too hard though, no. He wants him to suffer. He smashes his kneecaps, his elbows, all while the poor boy is still alive. But when he gets too close to being dead Tate stops and drags his body outside, being careful so you won’t see. He throws the boy's body over the fence into Constance's yard, his spirit won’t even be able to reach you.

After he’s done, he cleans himself up and returns into the house, a smirk on his lips. You’re his again, he knows it.

~~~

“Tate, can I ask you something,” you speak.

The two of you are in your bed again, you’re lying on his chest. It’s been a week since he killed your boyfriend, and so far, he thinks he’s gotten away with it. The boy’s face was too mutilated to identify at first sight, and besides that Tate hasn’t heard his identification on the news or from you. He thinks it may be his perfect crime.

“Anything,” he says after a few seconds.

You sit up, covering your chest with the blanket. You look nervous. “Um, I know this may sound crazy but, did you kill Jake?”

“What?” Tate replies. How did you find out?

“That body in Constance’s yard, it was Jake,” you answer.

“Why would you assume it was me? Of course, I didn’t kill him that would be crazy,” he lies, pretending to be offended at your accusation.

“You were the only one who had a problem with him Tate, and you live right near my house. Listen I won’t- I won’t turn you in just tell me the truth,” you explain.

Tate sits up too and looks you in the eye. “Why does it matter? You’re back with me y/n, and since he’s been gone there haven’t been any issues between us. I thought you were happy.”

You scoff and get out of bed. “Tate you killed an innocent boy!”

“So what? We are happier without him; we are happier together. Whether I killed him or not those are the facts.”

“Are you serious?” You ask, a horrified expression on your face. “Did you do this so I would fuck you again?”

“No!” he exclaims, getting out of bed on the other side. “I did it so we could be together, I did it because I love you y/n. I love you way more than that jerk ever could.”

You pull on a t-shirt and underwear before heading toward the door. “This can’t be happening.”

Tate quickly pulls on his boxers and follows you. You’re about to open the door but he slams it shut with his hand. He towers over you from behind. He can see your hands are shaking, you’re afraid of him. He can’t have that.

“I’m not going to hurt you y/n, I would never hurt you,” he says softly.

“You’re a killer.”

“You love me, and deep down you’ve known what I’m capable of.”

You begin to cry. “How could I have been so stupid?”

“You aren’t stupid,” he tries to comfort you. He wraps his arms around your torso in a tight hug.

“Yes, I am, I fell in love with a monster,” you mumble.

Tate holds you close, his lips kissing the top of your head. It’s all coming together, he thinks. He knows you’re going to kill yourself soon, you can’t handle this. Once you’re dead he’ll finally be able to tell you the truth of this house. But by then you won’t be able to get out.

If he can’t have you, no one else will.

~~

a/n:

why did i just realize this can kinda be a prequel to a cruel punishment???

[amoristt]

Grazing the Fire | VII

RAAAAAAAAAAAAA

not a super eventful chapter im le sorry but on my LIFE next chapter is going to be *chefs kiss* i PROMISE!!! i really wanted to get some reader and world building done

also just incase i never mentioned it! this is a collgeAU where instead of blackwell being like an "extended highschool" its straight up a college lol cant remember if i ever said that!

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

warnings: language, very slight mentions of s/a

want to support me? here’s my ko-fi!

__

When you wake up, blurry eyed and half conscious, Nathan’s gone. The absence of him is a heavy one. It always is.

Sunlight dances through the curtains and bathes you in the glorious morning sky, and you can’t help but sprawl out into a cat-like stretch. Something crinkles in the shifting blankets, lost until you fish through the covers and find what looks to be another polaroid photo. You hadn’t seen this one amongst the others, probably stuck inside the bag and far from your prying eye. 

The photo is pretty as always. Nathan’s eye is never short of taste. It’s you, holding a bat high overhead moments from heaving it down on the poor toaster locked in your path of destruction. Poor thing never stood a chance.

Scribbled on the bottom of the photo is haphazard writing. 80% unintelligible scribbles but what you can make out is a simple message: txt me when ur fun again

 Again. Your heart stutters in your chest and warmth spreads over your cheeks, giddy. Although it was evident your time yesterday was good, to see it in writing was something else entirely. He thought you were fun.

Buzzing excitement is quick to die down, however, when you grab your phone sitting on the nightstand. Through squinted eyes, you read a message from a certain someone you hadn’t expected to hear from at all. Those warm and fuzzy feelings drop with your stomach into ice cold sweats. To make matters worse, those aren’t even the only notifications. After weeks of socials drier than a drought, suddenly your entire screen is covered in text after text from an assortment of names. 

What could have happened now? What could possibly be next for you? 

Maybe you were speedrunning this social suicide thing quicker than you’d originally anticipated. 

But then you actually chill out enough to read the first message you can focus on. It’s from Kaz, reading a simple, im so sorry. call me please. 

Your eyebrows knit together and then you see the next contact name- Lance. 

can we talk? i know you probably hate me

If you were confused before then it had nothing on how you felt now. Even more so when you realize you’ve got a social media message from none other than Victoria Chase. It’s your first and only ever interaction with the Queen Bee of Blackwell Academy. Everything you knew of her was all from afar, either out of observation passing her by in the halls or the things Nathan had told you when he felt particularly chatty. 

Clearly first impressions aren't your strong suite, but regardless she lived as something… Almost untouchable in your brain. Rich, spoiled, and talented. Throwing others under the bus to gain a step above seemed to come as easy to her as breathing, but that was the name of the game, afterall. Truly living the art-student dream and lapping up all that it had to offer. But then you also knew things that were… Sweeter. She cared for Nathan in ways no one would be able to fathom. Defended him at every turn and became something of stability for him. His smoking buddy on quiet weekends, his go-to when shit got particularly bad. So surely there was a heart in there beyond all the rich-kid bullshit. 

Either way, her text rang short and sweet. And particularly mysterious. 

your welcome. 

When you're locked into staring at the message as though somehow it would change before your very eyes, your attention shifts to another message from Lance skirting over your screen. 

i need you to call me. seriously

You almost ignore him again. It’d be so easy to- just turn your phone off or toss it to the edge of the bed and bury your head under the pillow. Whatever was going on, you surely didn’t have the energy to deal with. But you bring the phone to your ear anyways, because your anxious curiosity is mounting by the second. 

He answers on the first ring. 

For a reason you don’t think you’d ever truly be able to grasp, Victoria had been a real player for your humble little team. By the graces of god, or perhaps you were due some good karma, she’d taken it upon her own shoulders to bring the good word to light- Tate was a fucking freak. Said it with her chest and said it on her socials, even wrote it on her little white board outside her dorm door. Called him a dog chasing tail who wasn’t above being nasty to get it. 

And anyone, anyone peddling that disgusting rumor about you was nothing more than scummy. 

Lance spilled apologies like water. You nodded along with every sentence of his but man, was your brain itching to lay into him. Choice words danced at the tip of your tongue until you were forced to chew the inside of your cheek to avoid saying those pretty shitty things to your former friend. When he finished his blubbering about how he never thought Tate would do this, you found yourself at an odd standstill. 

The obvious course of action for you would be to forgive him. Swallow down all those harsh words and move on as if nothing had happened because that’s what you always did. Get it all over with and push on through this miserable arc. 

You do, ultimately, accept his apology. It’s what you do best. But fuck does it taste bad in the back of your throat. Fuck, for the first time in your life, the easy choice feels like betraying yourself somehow. Like you were better than this. He sniffles and he says thank you but your face is twisting into a scowl and your chest has actually begun to hurt with anger. Anger, and the bitter realization that was the reality of being a nobody. 

Your word meant nothing to them. It took Victoria for them to fucking believe you. 

Wouldn’t even hear you out, for god's sake. The looks on their faces drove you mad, lived within the wrinkles of your brain and followed you through your dreams night after night. 

Kaz calls you less than a minute after Lance hangs up so you know damn sure he went and told her you’ve decided to offer him the time of day. You answer again and prepare for the onslaught of sorry’s and tears. And boy, does she bring it. 

I’m so sorry, she’d hiccuped over the line. I was wrong about him. I should have believed you. 

Her woes don’t settle until the very moment you’re pinching the bridge of your nose and sighing. It was all… So much. From having to mentally relive the moments before Nathan had once again pulled you from the fire all the way through the despair of being called a liar, to now, this very moment. You should be happy. You should be feeling grateful and thanking the stars for letting you start to unbag all these horrible feelings, but you just… Don’t. 

You’re so pissed off and betrayed that you can’t even begin to want to unpackage it all. 

Through grit teeth, you tell her you get it, and then you hang up. She doesn’t bother with a follow up text.

Running a hand through your hair, you can’t help but wonder if her crocodile tears halted the very second the line dropped. If any of it from either of them was real, actually. Perhaps they’d just wanted to stay on your good side after connecting some pretty serious dots and realized you’d made pretty sizable connections in the last couple weeks. As far as they knew, you were buddying with the Academy’s princess herself, and by extension, Nathan Prescott.

And no one wanted to fuck with Nathan Prescott. 

But you couldn’t understand why Victoria would double down like this. It wasn’t entirely in your defense, as Tate was, in fact, a dog, but she had nothing to gain from bad mouthing him. Surely, surely, it had something to do with Nathan. 

Always looking out for you. Watching your back when you don’t even realize it. 

An odd limbo of emotions has you stuck in place. On one hand, it’s a downright relief to know that it was all over, regardless how you felt or not. And now it’d be that much harder for Tate to make some other poor girl a victim of his. But on the other hand…  On the other hand, you wanted to throw your middle fingers up and lay into your former friends like they deserved. They’d left you at your worst and turned a cold shoulder to someone in need. Made you feel like the bad guy after getting roofied. 

You spent most of your nights praying to god that Tate would be struck by lightning. That, and that somehow your friends would open their damn eyes and realize what they’d said and show up with ice cream and movies. Back then you’d have let it all slide just to have them back. Friends, some harmless fun. A sense of belonging. But they never did. Not until now, when the words came from a different, better voice. 

God clearly was not on your side. Not in those regards, anyways, because ultimately despite it all you ended up with Nathan every single time. In his bed, in his truck, tucked into his bag small and laminated and frozen in time forever. Eternalized. Nothing ever truly felt real like it did with him. Nothing was out of obligation, or some mandatory upkeep to stoke the fire of friendships. Just real, raw, fun. 

So maybe God was on your side, after all. Maybe he’d been trying to rattle sense back into you this whole time, teach you to control the reigns of your own life for once. 

The last time you’d felt anything even close to the fire of Nathan was all the way back in highschool. Your childhood friend was that of teachers' nightmares- hot tempered and outspoken, giving the school a run for its money and standing up for you when you’d refuse to do the grueling work yourself. And when you’d try to drag her away with your tail tucked between your legs, she would stand tall. For you. Because she knew that under all your layers of timidity, there was a roaring sea of festering frustrations. She knew it before you even did, and she tried to help it find its way out in vain. 

You were well and truly closed off. And fuck, afraid, to make the noise. 

You struggled with it all four years, and you struggled even worse during graduation when she announced she’d be carted off to California for college. She begged you to come, told you it’d teach you all kinds of things, but… You just couldn’t. Your mom had already gotten you set up nice and tight with Blackwell, and she had such high hopes for you. 

You couldn’t bear to disappoint her, could you?

And so, when summer break rolled around and she packed the last of her boxes into her little truck, you realized you no longer had the cloak of her protecting you. That, and you realized she had lived her days to their fullest and you had almost nothing to show for yours. Decent enough grades but that was about it when your only friend vanished into thin air. You had been too afraid to rock those boats, you couldn’t even understand why she would want to rock the boat in the first place. Why she never gave a shit when her locker was vandalized, and why she barely batted an eye when her backpack was sent sprawling along the hallways floor gutted and ruffled.

You just didn’t see life the way she did- exciting and bright. Something to love and tame. 

But… Maybe you were starting to get it now. Apparently you have a tendency to gravitate towards those raising hell and fire at every turn. Real and unapologetic and so unlike you. 

At the edge of your bed, your phone calls to you. 

Maybe sometime you’ll give her a ring. You’d texted her here and there, had a few decent conversations, but you hadn’t yet gotten the drive to actually sit down and call her in quite some time. For the first time in your life, you were occupied and you were busy. And this time you had stories of your own to tell. 

For now, you toss yourself out of bed and resume your earlier stretch. Joints pop, your lower back cries out in distress. The usual.

Class would be starting in little less than an hour which left you just enough time to hop into the shower and get dressed in whatever you found hanging up. The entire time you rehearsed what you would say if you happened to bump into Victoria- if she even would acknowledge you at all. You were stuck between the grateful thank you and confusing why. Of course you knew deep in your heart that it involved Nathan. Everything good always does, it seems. But you wanted to hear it. 

Anxiety bubbles up in your chest as your daily routine comes to a finish. Hair, teeth, grab your bag and your keys. Just like any other day. Except today was going to be anything but, you think. You know. You can feel it in your heart and you can hear it in hushed voices as you walk by the other students. Since the beginning of it all, to them, you had been a lying whore. And now, you were the victim. 

There were so many roads you could take to navigate it. Accept all the apologies and carry on, the easiest route. It was tempting, all glowing signs and arrows pointing to the least resistance. But the other route beckons you from somewhere deep within the bowels of your gut. Something irritated and hurt, makes you want to tighten your fists at your side and tell them all to fuck off because they were just as bad as your former friends. 

There’s two girls standing at your locker when you approach, all fidgety and off putting. You recognize one of them to be the always lovely Dana Ward. Beside her is a taller, fair-faced stranger with a simple blonde bun. As soon as their eyes lock onto you they give you this awful, almost dramatical frown of sadness. 

Here we go. 

“Hey,” Dana starts. “I just heard about the Tate stuff. You are so strong.”

Nathan’s voice pipes up from somewhere in the backside of your brain. He begs to speak on your behalf, struggles to get past your lips and shout them down for assuming a liar out of you til’ now. But, god help you, Dana is a sweet person and her friend isn’t giving you any real reasons to snark away your exasperation.

Her lips press into a tight line and then she speaks again to hopefully cut through the silence. 

“I knew he was a creep. One time he cornered me in the pool and got all weird on me because I wouldn’t give him my number. Total freak behavior. 

Nathan’s voice within you quiets down to an indistinguishable whisper, gone when a lance of pity pierces holes through the anger. 

“Fuck him.” You throw your locker open and shove your bag inside. “He’ll get what’s coming, I bet.”

“Oh, he’s getting it alright.” Dana’s friend chirps, and you raise a brow. She merely nods towards the other end of the hallway.

Following her eye line, you see it down at the last set of lockers. A locker adorned in big red letters, littered with sharpie and marker and words you shouldn’t repeat on school grounds. Tate’s locker. Out of all the words, from where you stand, you can only clearly see a few. 

Rapist. 

Freak. 

Even more writing in other fun colors. 

Asshole. 

Fuck you. 

A force beyond the beyonds pulls the corners of your lips upwards, and with it, a rush of joy that plants itself into the fields of your heart and blooms satisfaction within your veins. You feel it in waves, almost. And it burns so good on the way down that you can’t stop yourself from grinning. A single chant rolls through your dome of a skull, echoing off the fishbowled walls. 

Fuck you, Tate. Fuck you. 

A written chorus of your defence and his misdeeds. It felt too good to be real, almost, like somehow surely things couldn’t have changed so much in just one night. 

But then reality sinks in again. Because yes, it all did change overnight, and it was all just Victoria. 

All the nights spent staring up at the ceiling wondering how your friends could side with such a nasty person, why they wouldn’t even hear you out over something so dire. Attacking your character. Reinforcing the way your brain preferred to just do things like it always had, in silence and in private. 

So even when you’re feeling light on air there’s still shit mucked up underneath it all. A chamber of anger and the smoldering infestation of bitter beneath your skin. Your court doesn’t feel so empty anymore, but any gratification spars with years of emotional self-neglect. 

Was this what it was like? Was this the moment your friends fought for? Fiery passion, waves of rage garnished with fleeting blips of pride?

All the overstimulating noise of Blackwell fades into nothing within your ears. Silence from all angles. Dana nudges your arm and she says, I’m here for you, before she’s gone just as quickly.  You’re alone again in your thoughts. Per usual. The class bell rings through the busy halls, and all that’s left to do is find your way to class and see how the rest of the day would unfurl. 

Although you feel like you’re a war ground of pesky emotions, there’s an obvious pep to your step when you wind through the halls and slip into your classroom. It only takes a second to settle in, the sun beaming in through the massive windows and warming you golden from the inside out. Nearly intoxicating. 

The teacher's voice seems even further away than usual. 

--

Adrenaline ebbed into neutrality, and with it, all those shiny new feelings. By the time your first period was up, the stress of it all began to mount all over again. Class dragged by as it always did, the droning tone of your professor rambling on and on about things you really didn’t have the energy to care about and a melody of whispering chatter behind you. All the same. Like somehow, nothing had changed at all, actually. You’d almost believed it to be true, too, until you realized the scene sitting directly in front of you. 

April and May were taking special care to avoid any sort of contact with you, barely even murmuring amongst themselves when usually they’d be told more than once to pipe down by the teacher. It was quite the sight, the two of them. Frozen with eyes trained forward as though any movement would have you swinging at the back of their heads. 

Or perhaps delivering another round of stink to their rooms. 

If you weren’t sopping wet in the bath of stress, you’d surely have laughed. But you are, so you don’t. You just sit there watching numbly as life goes on, glancing between the fuzzy board scribbled with today's lesson and then the wind dancing through the tree leaves outside. And then you start to get angry, again, because you should be enjoying this. You should taking pictures and marking the date on your calendar- the day those two bone headed fucks left you the hell alone. 

This was what you wanted, right? To be left alone.

So why did it feel so heavy in your gut? 

Professor allows your class to talk amongst themselves for a short break, and suddenly voices from all angles are striking you at once. It’s easy to tune into a select few: vortex party details, weird graffiti in the mens room. Meeting up for dinner after class and going to see that new movie everybodies talking about. Apparently someone was throwing a super exclusive party at the edge of town. 

All just a bunch of random bullshit. 

When the lecture picks back up to finish its final run, it’s hard to focus between the stink of lingering, washed-out skunk in front of you and the ongoing chatter behind you. Not to mention the fact that you really, really, could not care any less about today's lesson. 

It’s been a minute since you cared about anything school related, now that you’re thinking about it. Other than straight up getting there on time, you never found yourself paying attention like you used to. It was all just muddled together, your mind far away but nowhere all at once. 

Your mother would surely have a fit knowing her child was so far out of it she wasn't even in the same vip code any longer. 

A part of you feels bad. A part of you always feels bad for something, and this time around it’s this gnawing guilt reminding you what you’re jeopardizing. Your education, your future. A perfect and simple future where you graduate Blackwell and haul your ass back to your hometown where you settle into a lovely job and an even lovelier two-story home wrapped in picket and doused in beige. 

You were lucky to be here- you knew that. Your mom did everything she had to do and clocked in the overtime to see to it you’d attend a good college. One that would have you skipping down the road of success. And she sent you off with a smile of pride so bright it almost covered hints of regret entirely. 

At the time, you’d believed those pinprick tears were that of loss, grieving your time together until you were back home. But now you recognized it- jealousy. Bittersweet, but jealousy nonetheless. 

Blackwell was your mothers dream college. She told you of her plan to be a professional writer living out in the hills of France or somewhere buried into the heart of a lovely little town out in the country. She’d almost made it, too. Got accepted and everything and prepared to leave home with nothing but a prayer and a dream in her pockets.

 But then, she, well… Had you. And, in her words, all those frivolous ideas went right out the window when you were plopped into her lap after a grueling two full days in labour. Her little angle, her little miracle. 

Her mini-me. She knew deep in your heart you were going to be perfectly wonderful. 

So she laid your life out like an outfit at the edge of your bed. It was easy to wear, easy to let it all be done and set right for you. Beauty pageants, enough after school activities to drive a carney mad. Rather it be out of laziness, or because you never truly did develop a spine of your very own, it was just so easy to ride the wind of her sail. 

Years and years and years spent in placid silence. Your own inner turmoil went unnoticed by most, pretty much only barking out when you really, really couldn’t stand it anymore. Some people really knew how to push the right buttons like that. But, you always took the path of least resistance, because you knew it was best for you. You hated attention, anyways, and if you were being honest, sometimes when you made choices you heard your moms voice before your own. 

You aren’t sure what changed within you. What fire had been lit. But something from the very depths of your soul has started crying out for your attention. It begs to rip through the mask of isolating cowardice and lash out in all directions. It’s strange, you can’t seem to remember a time in your life where you’d been so… Frustrated. Or, at least, you can’t seem to remember a time where you actually allowed yourself to work through it. To really sit down and simmer and feel it in its entirety.

Maybe you were losing your grip. Maybe everything was starting to become so clear yet so muddled at the very same time. 

Maybe Nathan was right. Blackwell does bring out the worst in everyone. 

---

Class finished up as the morning sun lit fireworks of gold over the dewy window glass. Students filed out one after the other once the bell rang but you chose to linger and admire the beauty unfurling before you. Such a seren sight, you wished you could feel the same way. Lighter than air and peaceful.

“... -and I, no, we, just wanted to say we were sorry.”

 A bird lands on the edge of the sill before it once more glides into that open sky. 

“Um…”

It takes a blink or two before you even realize there’s someone talking to you, let alone realizing there’s now two figures lingering a foot away from your seat. Once you fall back in reality, however, you don’t even have to think to recognize the awful sound of your least favorite sisters. 

April and May straighten their backs when you catch their gaze. You’d never seen spines so flaccid rip to ramrod straight so quickly in your life, like you’re a particularly mean spirited drill sergeant. 

“That was seriously fucked up of us, we just, like, we get it now.” May’s tone always makes you want to peel off your own skin. Luckily before you do, her sister takes over, softer this time. 

“Are we like… Cool?”

The rough translation: please don’t skunk us again. 

And the real fucking kicker of it all was that it hadn’t even been you. Nathan had taken it upon his own independence to come at them like some sort of attack dog. Not to mention Victoria deciding to cover your other corner. 

Out of everyone who decided to give you trouble for no good reason, April and May deserved what came to them. ‘What’ lingered with them in the form of an everlasting stink. Your friends had done you dirty but what would come to them, would come to them outside of your influence. But you were all too willing to sit back and watch the effects but damn, April and May were just so nasty. And It was lovely to watch them sink down a peg or two. Or twelve.

Even nicer to see them wait on your word. Pride seeps into your membrane but it’s ugly and it’s devious, downright malicious when you lean back into your seat with a click of your tongue and their expressions fall. 

It feels good. 

You only let them dangle there in suspension for a few moments. 

“Yep.” You shrug flatly. “We’re good.” 

They huff out the breaths they’d been holding. 

“Thanks,” April swallows. “If you like, ever need anything, reach out, okay?”

It takes everything in you not to laugh at their face. But you manage to tighten the reins on your own lead and instead offer nothing short of a curt nod. The unimpressed look on your face doesn’t go unnoticed, however, and they scurry out of the room before the tensions have the chance to rise again. 

You have to sit back to take it all in. Really let yourself linger in it, the feeling of having an ounce of power. Being seen. The edge of it all was thrumming underneath your skin. Real power, like if you hadn’t told them they were in the clear they’d have dropped dead right then and there. The fact that they felt the need to even be cleared at all was so foreign to you it almost felt like it wasn’t real, but instead was just some coping daydream you’d concocted to make your sorry self feel better. 

But it was real. And it was delicious in the most stomach churning of ways. Until a few moments later, when you realize you’ve only just finished your first hour. 

By the time you heave yourself to your feet, the next round of students have begun to trickle in. The hallway isn’t so busy now that it’s been a few minutes and you meander your way to your locker. You routinely swap your books around and sling your bag back over your shoulder but then something’s stopping you, this lingering turmoil that makes you glance up at the clock and cringe at the hours remaining. 

You feel awkwardly visible now, eyes catching you as they go by. Whispers and quiet chatter next to half opened lockers, hushed when you come within distance. A couple more scribbles on Tate’s locker and memories of his obscured face before you had collapsed into a heap of unconscious mess. 

You can’t find it in yourself to get to your next class. Not yet, anyways. Instead your feet find themselves planted in the girls bathroom as a last ditch effort to give yourself one hell of a pep talk and to get your damn head in the game. A distraction, something to take away the throb starting to knock away at your skull. There was no time to be this flustered, nor was there time to somehow be this drained at the same time. 

Those feet of yours stop, however, when you swing the door open and wouldn’t you know it- the queen bee herself. It’s not the first time you’ve seen her, but it’s the first time you’ve been in a room alone with her. She’s everything you expected of Blackwell's best. Talls, skinny, perfectly pleasant to look at with the brains to match. 

There isn’t a hint of acknowledgement. She’s craned forward and plastering lipstick over her lips so smooth it’s like she’s done it a million times before. Barely even spares you a glance when she straightens his spine and clicks the lipstick’s cap on. For some reason you almost feel as thought you’re intruding even though it’s a public bathroom. She has a way of doing that, you’ve heard. Owning the spaces she took up. You almost apologize for daring to even walk through the door, any confidence you’d gained shattered in just her mere presence. 

When your mouth opens to speak, she cuts through the silence. 

“So. Feel better?” You search for words to say. She just takes the silence once again, sighing. “How’s it feel knowing everyone here feels like they owe you some grand apology?” 

Her tone is unreadable. Somewhere between a taunt but not quite so malicious. Finally, sounds leave your moving lips. 

“...About the Tate shit?”

“Duh.” 

“Well, yeah. I guess. I didn’t really want an apology from everyone. Just got under my skin that he got off scott-free.” There’s a weight in your chest, your eyes falling to the floor. “And pretty much no one believed me.”

Victoria sighs again and drops her lipstick into her makeup bag before she fishes out a tube of mascara. “Yeah. Welcome to Blackwell. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“...Thanks.”

Victoria’s leaning forward into the mirror once more and applying thin layers of mascara. You, for some fucking reason, are caught in a trance. There’s this sense of… Effortless perfection about her. Like everything she does is right, meanwhile you’re just twiddling your thumbs and standing there like some lingering creep. Something nags at you, though. Just loud enough to have you starting the conversation back up.

“I gotta ask, though,” You start. “Why did you suddenly go and post all that stuff about him? Why do that for me?”

“Who says it was just for you? Self-centered much?” She turns around so quickly her hair has to catch up, and it makes you almost take a step back. But then she leans on the sink with one hand and gets eye level with you. For a moment, you’re sure she’s about to lay into you. Instead, she smirks. “I did it cuz’ Tate’s a fucking asshole who had it coming.”

It’s a little harder to breathe when she’s a mere few inches from your face. When she backs away and looks you over curiously, you’re unable to hide the confusion among your apprehension. She faces the mirror again, the air changing by the second.

“Look, I know you’ve been hanging out with Nathan.” She says quietly. It’s almost like you’re getting caught, like for some reason she wasn’t supposed to know. You open your mouth to speak but she stops you again successfully for the second time. “He’s… seemed happier.”

Now you’re stunned all over again. 

“Happier?” You ask, and she nods absently. 

“You know, sometimes he can’t go a week without-...” Her lips press into a tight line, choosing her words. “He’s just got a lot of vices. He has a hard time. I know you know that.”

Victoria Chase is actually leveling with you. It’s both an honor, and unnaturally anxiety inducing. 

“...But he’s been doing better and the only thing that’s changed is, well,” She eyes you through the mirror. “You. So…”

So consider it a thanks. 

She’s casually dabbing eyeliner and clearing away smudges like it’s some casual Tuesday, but you can hear the sincerity in her tone. Nathan clearly means a lot to her, beyond the rich-kid connection bullshit. You knew it by the way Nathan spoke about her, but it was so different to see it in person. 

It’s still like being struck by lightning when you hear it, though. You’re affecting him, noticeably. You’re softening those harsh edges of his and you’re making him happier. 

“I’m glad he’s doing better.” Even though your heart is starting to pick up its pace thrumming in your chest, you feel the corners of your lips lifting into a smile.

“Yeah.” Fingers swiping away lipstick outside the lines. “Oh yeah, by the way, you should stand up for yourself.”

You blink up at her. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, please.” Victoria actually rolls her eyes at you, watching through the mirror. “Stop letting those stupid hipster bitches walk all over you. They’re all phonies trying to overcompensate the fact that they’re going totally nowhere in life.”

Funny. You almost feel like you could say the same thing about yourself. 

Maybe Victoria can read your thoughts. Maybe she’s just that good at reading people, because she quickly adds, “They wouldn’t know the real thing if it hit them in the face.” 

Implying that you’re the real thing. You, with your average life, even more average bank account, mediocre grades and no clear direction in life beyond that of other people's dreams, are the real deal. It almost makes you laugh how quickly the imposter syndrome seeps in.

“Oh, I don’t know,” You sigh. “I guess I’m not too great at standing up for myself.”

“Nathan says otherwise,” She giggled. “Where did that energy go?”

“...What has he said?”

“The diner, and the night he broke into Frank’s trailer. I can’t believe you let him into your room like that.” 

“He broke into someone's house?” You stare at her. The blood on Nathan’s clothes the night you let him slither his way into your room for the first time. 

Victoria shrugs. “Frank’s a sleazeball. I’m sure Nathan had his reasons.”

He always did, didn’t he?

“Anyways,” She starts again. “You have to start standing up for yourself.”

“I forget how, sometimes.”

“That’s why no one gives a shit what you have to say.” It’s so blunt it almost makes you retch. “Well, used to not give a shit. Now you’re talk of the town. So make some noise.” She peeks at you from over her shoulder, this glint in her eyes. “Bite back a little. Trust me.”

“The last time I bit back at someone, was, well…”

You have to chew the inside of your cheek

Nathan. The only one to really have you baring your fangs and barking back, getting shitty and mean. Ironic, considering he was probably the last person in Blackwell you shouldn’t have been going toe to toe with. God, you hadn’t felt anger like that, sitting at that diner trying to mind your own damn business and then suddenly he’s cutting a rug right to your table. He practically siphoned it out of you, his very presence phasing through every filter you hid behind. Maybe it was because the first time you saw him, he truly did stop you in your tracks. All of his anger, all of his rage, and yet somehow… You still saw something more in him. 

Seeing him with his camera all those months ago only solidified your wandering thoughts.

But then he found you at that damned diner and the weird illusion you’d created of him shattered in a thousand pieces. And it pissed you off so badly that you even gave him any thought at all. 

You had been new to school with little to no friends. Nothing to prove, nothing to gain but a dream that was never in yours in the first place. Years of suppressed frustrations festering under the skin of a perfectly little meek thing that Nathan somehow, in minutes flat, decimated. 

Never even saw the you that everyone else did. Never took you as weak, saw everything underneath right from the jump. You aren’t sure if Victoria shares the same thoughts, eyeing you up like she isn’t sure herself. But something about her, despite being his right hand, is blaringly noticeable: she’s got both of her feet on the ground. She’s stable- firm in her stance and running a tight ship. 

“Well?” She urges. You shrug again.

“I barely ever get like that. Does sarcasm count?”

“Sarcasm is a defense mechanism for weak willed nobodies.” It flows from her with ease and strikes you directly in the ego. “And for people who, like,” Once again her eyes flick from your head to toe. “Don’t give a shit about themselves.”

Your cheeks heat. “Ouch.”

“Look, I’m not saying you don’t give a shit about yourself. You just kind of look like it. But you totally have potential. Put on some make up, some better clothes, and try to look way less miserable inside.”

“Hey, I do try.”

“Really?” She shakes her head and laughs a pretty little giggle. “I’d hate to see what you look like when you’re not trying.”

It’s a joke. A real joke, and you should be insulted but you aren’t- in fact you’re quite the opposite. Charmed, almost. A breath of ease slips from your lips and with it goes the tension in your posture. 

“Got any tips then? What am I doing wrong?”

When Victoria turns to face you, she’s nearly glowing. “You sure you wanna wake the beast?”

“...The beast?”

“The beast.”

“Alright…” You swallow. “I mean, sure, go for it.”

And boy, does she release the beast.

“Well let’s start with the hair. When’s the last time you got a trim?”

“It’s been a while. I’ve been busy.” 

“Right.” Her arms cross. “Now, how about your posture? You look like a shrimp. I certainly wouldn’t take you seriously with that obvious lack of confidence and god, those clothes. Do you even own anything made this year?”

She’s not even letting you get word in- but even if she did, there was nothing you could say to even defend yourself. She was right and you both knew it. You felt like you had the back of a shrimp, and you owned maybe three or four complete outfits from thrift stores back home. 

“You look like you haven't slept in weeks and you don’t have any confidence.”

Unless it was out of blinding rage, apparently. 

You gape at her and she just tilts her head. 

“Too much?”

“Holy shit,” You’re still stuck staring and taking in the reality that you really could use a makeover. Shockingly your voice is miles more upbeat than you’d thought it would be, almost a borderline laugh. “You weren’t kidding. You are a beast.”

“Gotta’ be.” She hums. 

“My hair kinda just does it’s own thing, and I’m not gonna’ pretend I don’t like my clothes. They’re comfy. But maybe I could give make-up a shot or something.”

“What, scared it’ll bite?”

“Kind of.” A grimace crosses your features. “I fucking suck at putting it on. Never looks good on me.”

“Oh, shut up. You just don’t know what you’re doing.”

Bafflement doesn't get the chance to hit you before she’s pushing off the sink and standing before you. Her perfume is light and floral, and when you blink up at her she’s got this look in her eyes that you can't quite place. The makeup bag makes yet another appearance. 

Victoria tucks the bag under her arm and those nimble fingers find your chin, lipgloss hovering above your lips. 

“Oh you don’t have to do that-” 

“Don’t talk or you’ll fuck it up.”

Her tone could cut so you try your damndest to keep the wiggling at a minimum while she paints you as an artist would their canvas. This close, now, you can see the way her gaze locks into focus. Quick, subtle blips of satisfaction cross her features before they fade into concentration just as fast as they came. When she’s good and done, she swaps the gloss out for mascara. 

It tickles your waterline. Sits heavy on your twitching lashes and she has to swipe away the smudges you create as they come. Her work must be free of flaws, perfect as it can be, and when she feels you’ve met the quota she nods to herself a job well done before she sighs out a smile.

“There,” She hums. “All we did was two small things and you already look like less of a zombie. It really is easy, you know. Step one is to just… Don’t suck at it.”

“I think I failed step one.” Victoria stands before you, blocking your view of yourself in the mirror.

“Then learn. Here,” And before you know it, she’s shoving the bottle of mascara in your hands. “I’ve got like ten more of these. The lipgloss stays with me, though. That’s limited edition.”

Because of course it is. 

The school bell strips you of your chance to thank her, echoing loud and demanding overhead. The sound rivets off the bathroom walls and reminds you that you’re probably going to be late at this rate. Victoria simply spins on her heel towards the mirror, fixes the last few details of her look, then makes quick steps towards the door. 

“Uh-” You call. “Thanks for helping me. And for the makeup tips, and, stuff.”

Victoria’s back is to you, but you can see the pause she takes. The beat of silence passes before she glances at you over her shoulder. 

“...Sorry Tate tried to roofie you.”

Her compassion, still, finds you off guard. As does the softness in her tone- gentle and empathetic. The mental image of her you’d been building in your mind changes by the second, a full picture coming into display. 

You swallow. “It is what it is. I owe Nathan for it, he pretty much saved the day on that one.”

Victoria opens the bathroom door, the muffled chatter and footsteps now seeping through the gap.

“He trusts you, you know.” She says. “Don’t fuck it up.”

And then she’s gone. The click of her heels disappears into the symphony of Blackwells hallways. When the door shuts, the silence that overtakes you is almost jarring. The faucet drips, heat clicks and pushes through the vents overhead. But ultimately your goal was met- you came looking for a distraction and damn did you find one. 

For the first time since Victoria had started on you, you get the chance to see your own reflection. 

Her craftsmanship is one of legends. Soft and subtle, but not so much so that it goes unnoticed to the untrained eye. Thicker, darker lashes that flutter with each blink. Glossy lips that catch the light and seem to sparkle beneath it. Even under the harsh LED of the girls bathroom, you can see the difference. It almost takes your breath away.

For the second time now, you feel beautiful again. 

Beautiful enough to offer yourself a half-cocked grin and walk out into the halls with your head held just a little bit higher. The melody of students rushing from room to room, the slam and click of lockers opening and closing at all angles, it all becomes less like nails on a chalkboard and more like… White noise. A hum and bumble that's growing further away by the minute as your thoughts take over. 

You spend the rest of your time mentally thanking Victoria for her generosity. You even spend a couple minutes of class still thanking her, rolling your phone around in your hands wondering if you should text her until the teacher declares all electronics to be put away. 

Once more you find yourself more interested in what's going on outside than inside. The teacher prattles on about atomic energy but you’re too busy imagining how the breeze would feel running through your hair right now. How the sun would be so warm, how today would be the perfect day to go for a cruise along the ocean line. Perhaps the last few days of excitement with Nathan had spoiled you.

A couple of your teachers had noticed the changes in you growing by the weeks. A few asked if you were feeling alright, if you were burnt out. Your math teacher even suggested you see the counselor and discuss why you were lacking. As invisible as you were, you were always a good student first and foremost. Rarely left homework on the back burner, showed up on time and did your work and left when you were dismissed. 

You were slipping. You could feel it in your bones. 

And the scariest part was that you were starting to struggle to even care. 

You’re starting to have these creeping thoughts winding through your brain like vines. Or, perhaps, like poison seeping through your bloodstream. A single thought is recurring in its wake- do I even want to be here at all?

Pieces of your shell are starting to crack open, you think. And all those ugly feelings you were sure to snuff away were crawling through the cracks to rear their even uglier heads. It’s a special kind of guilt that fights wars with your growing independence. Parts of you you'd had yet to meet were tracking dirty footprints through the home of your mind. Some scarier than others, you find, angry and heated with a trigger-like temper, but you nonetheless. 

You were so lucky to be at this school and yet every hour skipped and spent fucking off doing god-knows-what was like glimpsing into a better future. It’s almost ruining things for you, in a way. All the things you could be doing but instead you’re stuck at a table listening to the same lessons over and over again. 

School was never something you particularly enjoyed, but god, had it always been this fucking boring?

Boring from the moment you walked in, boring at lunch, boring when you check your phone and see notifications from a dozen names yet none of them are who you want to hear from. 

You’re bored as the afternoon overtakes the morning and the midday sun is blazing gold along the chalkboard. 

Bored all the way til’ the very moment the final bell rings and you’re free to go. It almost numbs all those horrible, mixed feelings that ripped you up on the insides as you pass by countless scurrying students desperate to feel the warm air on their skin. 

So criminilay bored all the way to the girls dormitories and now, hours later in your dorm, you’re staring up at your ceiling and wondering how a single day could go on for so long. Music and muffled conversations are echoing through the halls to welcome the weekend. Every moment passed like lingering eternity, but you’d popped the window open before throwing yourself onto your mattress and the wind is fluttering through the curtains like little wings. Evening birds chirp and glide along the breeze. 

Nathan finds himself to the forefront of your mind for the thousandth time that day. You wondered what he was up to. The day had fallen, but the night would soon be and with it bringing who knew what. A part of you stares at that window and wishes he’d somehow be there knocking away at the glass and demanding you come out with that shit-eating grin of his. You’d roll your eyes and tell him to take a hike, but he wouldn’t. 

A fun game you grew to enjoy as the days came to pass. 

You sigh as a heaviness settles into your gut. 

He would walk right in like he owns the place and settle right beside you, reeking of weed and cigarettes. And cologne, of course. A subtle scent that you think you could pick out of a crowd by now. Smooth, woodsy. Just a hint of citrus. God, he even smelled rich. You wanted it all over your room.

All over you. 

The rhythm of your heart picks up in tandem with your fingers twitching to grab your phone. The way you swipe away all those messages begging for your attention is automatic, as is the way you click on the only name you truly wanted to hear from. 

You don’t give yourself the time to hesitate, but you’re stopped regardless when the phone rings to life in your hands.

[amostcuriousmythicist]

what do you think about the new defenders of Ares? Lol, the people who basically white knight him? do you think Ares is the feminist girl boss who is outcasted or are people just giving Hephaestus characterization to Ares?

Hello. Thanks for the ask 👍. So sorry it took this long for me to respond. I’ve been busy with college and I had a very elaborate post in mind

Now to answer your question on how I feel about Ares being romanticized on the internet as a misunderstood male femenist that never mistreated a woman. Well the thing is I do actually understand where these fans of Ares are coming from. Just like with Hades, Hollywood has made Ares a stereotypical villain, or at least a one note jerk, that is either trying to destroy Olympus or serving as the “other guy” to Hephaestus and Aphrodite. So I do understand the need to give a much needed correction to the misinformation that’s long been spread about him.

I am however annoyed at times by the historical misconceptions that are spread in order to make Ares look better, such as claiming he was the patron god of Sparta, that he was actually worshipped as the divine protector of women, and that all the negative stories about Ares was the result of “Athenian propaganda”.

The claim that Athens was the one responsible for making Ares look bad is especially ironic because many of the myths people like point to in order to show how good Ares actually is, are in fact Athenian in origin.

The story of Ares avenging the rape of his daughter Alcippe and being put on trial and acquitted by the gods took place at the hill known as the Areopagus which is located within the city of Athens. The story was used by Athenians as a precedent for trials over the shedding of blood. (Pausanias 1.21.4)

Another story people also often use to show how good Ares is, him saving Thanatos after Sisyphus was a variant passed down by Pherecydes of Athens, a famed Athenian historian. Most of his works were lost but they do survive in fragments.

As for if they are transferring Hephaestus characterization over to Ares…well they do at times try to make Ares feel more persecuted than he actually was at times. I remember when a bunch of people were saying that Ares was a child when he was trapped by the Aloadae giants. I don’t know of any text that says that and it just feels like a need to make Ares more of a martyr.

One other thing is that people act as if Ares is the only god to ever protect or avenge a woman that was sexually abused. We actually have plenty of examples of other gods coming to the defense of an abused women:

Apollo and Artemis killed the giant Tityos when he tried to rape their mother Leto, Poseidon sacred off a satyr that tried to rape the Argive princess Amymone, Dionysus avenged the rape of his Maenad Coronis by making the perpetrator (Butes) commit suicide, and Athena and Poseidon killed Ajax the lesser in revenge for the rape of Cassandra.

At the same time Ares himself does occasionally come across rather morally dubious such as when he helped his mother Hera in persecuting Leto during her labor or when he disguised himself as shepherd so he could sleep with the huntress Phylonome.

So yes, the romanization of Ares on the internet can be a bit much, even if it does have a valid reason for existing.

[rosylix143]

colonel jeongin | y. jeongin - skz in deepspace

pairing: yang jeongin x fem!reader

genre: love and deepspace AU, fluff, angst, suggestive

synopsis: an introduction to jeongin in the LADS AU

cw: MDNI, mentions of experimentation, obsessive behavior (lowkey a little extreme), possessiveness, jealousy, mentions of bullying, implied masterbation, suicidal thoughts, edging, major character death (lol kinda), captivity ig

let me know if i’m missing anything

other parts: chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin

———————————・❥・———————————

colonel!jeongin who you’ve known since the day you were born.

colonel!jeongin who held onto you very tight during the scary nights in the warehouse, praying that they wouldn’t get their grimy hands on you and stick a syringe into your weak arms.

colonel!jeongin who tried his hardest to stay strong for you. just so you wouldn’t feel alone and afraid.

colonel!jeongin who has a gravity evol so strong that it can be hard for others to resist it.

colonel!jeongin who was grateful that you and him were saved by a generous old woman. you both later called her gran or grandma.

colonel!jeongin who carried his will and determination to protect you no matter what, like it was some vow.

colonel!jeongin who grew a liking to the sky and planes as he grew up. he enjoyed sharing the new toy planes he got, explaining all the cool things about the models. oh how he loved the way your eyes widened, eager to know more.

colonel!jeongin who grew a liking for foxes because you told him that his eyes looked similar to a fox’s eyes.

colonel!jeongin who once drank apple cider on a hot summer day after soccer practice, and he couldn’t get enough of it since. it was your favorite drink too, so you’d just sit out in the bleachers with him having a few sips.

colonel!jeongin who always took it upon himself to do everything for you. grab you a plate, do your laundry, make your bed, literally anything under the sun. even lifting a finger was too much work for you. there were moments when you got into arguments with him over it, but he just wants you to be comfortable and happy.

colonel!jeongin who got into fights with the boys who would pick on you in class. he often got sent to the principal’s office for inciting violence and returned home with a bruise or two, prepared to get another scolding from gran.

colonel!jeongin who once locked you upstairs in the attic without your knowledge after the bullies decided to pull up to the front door. jeongin made sure those bullies learned their lesson. so much so that they asked him to be their next leader. he said no and eventually returned to free you from the attic. you were so scared and held onto him like your life depended on it, which made him feel guilty for scaring you.

colonel!jeongin who felt bad for even looking at you the moment you hit puberty. your body was going through so many changes, and he scolded himself for staring at you a little.

colonel!jeongin who didn’t understand the sensations his pubescent body was having every time he looked at you. he just knew that his body was always hot and his mind buzzed with not so innocent thoughts of you. the amount of cold showers he’s had was so ungodly that gran gave him a scolding for the high water bill.

colonel!jeongin who noticed how tiny you were compared to him, resulting in the nickname pip-squeak.

colonel!jeongin who noticed the moment you decided to switch your style as you grew up. you were wearing the kind of clothes all the other girls were wearing. it never failed to make his heart skip a beat, and his testosterone levels were already high enough.

colonel!jeongin who couldn’t stand the guys who would casually flirt with you as you grabbed your books from your locker.

colonel!jeongin who died inside when you started to get close with someone else: one of the boys who passed you by the hallway. his name was chan.

colonel!jeongin who lamented on the fact that you’d spare most of your time talking to chan instead of him. why him and not me, he wondered.

colonel!jeongin who stole some of your perfume and sprayed it all over his bed. he buried himself in the sheets, sniffing heavily, pretending that it’s your pretty skin and hair he’s sniffing.

colonel!jeongin who received so many love letters in his locker for valentine’s day. all the names on them he couldn’t remember. he only remembered the cute simple pink envelope that only had a red heart sticker and your name signed in cursive.

colonel!jeongin who was always scared shitless because he had to accept that you were going to be out of his sight for a long while. you were already talking about becoming a deepspace hunter. jeongin wanted to be happy for you and support your dream, but he didn’t like the idea of you throwing yourself into harm’s way.

colonel!jeongin who can’t accept himself as someone weak. he needs to be strong. for you.

colonel!jeongin who applied to military school. he hoped that his skills in flying aircraft and combat will give him more strength to protect you.

colonel!jeongin who held onto a dog tag necklace you gifted him. it was smaller than a regular dog tag, and it didn’t have any special numbers on it. all it had was the message “when u come home” and a little apple and fox charm attached. he cherishes it greatly.

colonel!jeongin who easily got along with the other guys in the military school. they all gravitated to his skill and confidence. not to mention, they’re always curious about his supposed girlfriend waiting for him at home.

colonel!jeongin who was the top scorer on the physical exams for the military but was ranked lowest for the psychological examination.

colonel!jeongin who made it to skyhaven for training, and he would send you many letters. he was always eager to hear back from you.

colonel!jeongin who you kissed at his graduation ceremony in front of thousands of people. no one is allowed to have him except for you, and he wasn’t complaining at all.

colonel!jeongin who celebrated your achievement in becoming a deepspace hunter. meanwhile, deep down, he also felt dread for having to let you go in a way. you wouldn’t need to depend on him for protection forever, and it kills him.

colonel!jeongin who came back to visit you and gran. you and him eventually took a walk to catch up, and when you both returned home, the house exploded.

colonel!jeongin who was pronounced dead alongside gran after the explosion. you couldn’t believe it, and your life has never felt so hollow.

colonel!jeongin who you mourned for so long that it felt like a dream the moment he was standing right in front of you wearing a uniform of authority.

colonel!jeongin who was planted as colonel of the farspace fleet long after his supposed death.

colonel!jeongin who was worried that the uniform scared you but he assures you that he’s the same jeongin you’ve known for so long.

colonel!jeongin who held you so close and tight when he brought you to his apartment in skyhaven.

colonel!jeongin who didn’t exactly tell you how he was alive the whole time when you asked. it was a little confusing, but you were just so relieved that it didn’t matter how he was alive. gran may have not survived, but jeongin was still with you.

colonel!jeongin who you grew more suspicious of the more you spent more time in skyhaven. his behavior was slightly different and he’s definitely holding back so much information since he’s the fleet’s colonel.

colonel!jeongin who would rather kill himself than let you see the person he’s truly become. you’re supposed to love him and lean on his shoulder, and heaven forbid the day you find out all the awful things he’s had to do for the fleet.

colonel!jeongin who’d kill anyone who dares to hurt or touch you.

colonel!jeongin who’s extremely starved of your touch and love.

colonel!jeongin who dreams about you every night. he imagines the way your skin feels under the palms of his hands. he thinks about how your plush lips felt against his, recalling his last graduation. he needs to feel every curve and crevice of your body. he sometimes wondered how he could possess you entirely. you’re his forever, and no one else can have you.

colonel!jeongin who stuffs his face full of tissues, muffling his moans so you wouldn’t hear him from the other room. his grip was so tight that he was close to yank it off.

colonel!jeongin who doesn’t let himself be relieved because he’d rather it be you than himself.

colonel!jeongin who rarely takes a warm shower. they’re mostly cold.

colonel!jeongin who sometimes has trouble sleeping because of his nightmares of you being taken away from him.

colonel!jeongin who tried everything in his power to make sure you’d want to stay in his apartment. it’s too dangerous outside, especially during all the evening cleanups. but you were too stubborn one night, which later resulted in a bad injury in your shin. jeongin eventually had to take you home.

colonel!jeongin who got mad as he brought you home. he just couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t listen to him.

colonel!jeongin who thought about using his gravity evol to hold you down just so you’d learn your lesson. however, he knew that you’d end up being scared and hurt, which isn’t what he wants.

colonel!jeongin who begged you to stay by his side forever and ever because you are always safe by his side. anywhere else is a danger. besides, he knows so much about you already. only he knows best how to take care of you.

colonel!jeongin who pinned your wrists down on the couch, confessing all of his feelings to you.

colonel!jeongin who said that he’d want to rebuild your childhood house and move in with you, grow the most stunning garden you’ve ever seen, and hide you away from the world.

colonel!jeongin who you struggle saying no to because no matter what he does, he will always hold a special place in your heart. he’s been with you for so long, and life without him has already been so tough. the last thing you’d want is to lose him again.

colonel!jeongin who reluctantly let you go because the last thing he’d want to do ever is bring you pain and suffering. however, his door will always be open for you.

colonel!jeongin who secretly works for the infamous ever group because while they saved his life, there’s a debt that needs to be paid eventually. even at the cost of his arm.

colonel!jeongin who got a chip injected into his brain that’s supposed to keep him calm and collected and hollow. but whenever his emotions are at an all time high, the chip would end up making him think and act irrationally.

colonel!jeongin who is so madly in love with you that it can be scary, so he holds back as much as he could that it’s painful. the last thing he’d ever want to do is to make you fear him.

———————————・❥・———————————

a/n: hey, y’all!! here is the final installment of LADS AU introductions. i’m such a big caleb girlie and jeongin biased, so this one was fun to write hehehe. comment what you think, and reblog/like if you enjoyed it. and don’t think that this is the end of the LADS AU. there is more to come hehehe.

masterlist | taglist

[chlorinecake]

PART 3: GHOST FACE YANDERE imagine

Ｂｌｏｏｄ ＯｎＩｃｅ | 얼음에 피 - a park sunghoon ff

⚡︎ cw: mentions of suicide and anxiety, bullying, violence involving guns and knives, character deaths, swearing, heavy petting/kissing, domestic abuse themes

⚡︎ genre: horror, psychological thriller, slow burn, angst

⚡︎ summary: new relationships blossom as you try to lead a normal life proceeding your abuser’s death, but what happens once a series of chilling phone calls disrupts your peace again?

⚡︎ wc: 15k (have fun with this hour long read lol) ~ previously...

❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ now and then

Since the fateful day of his death, Sunghoon Park was infamously known for the heinous acts he so gallantly committed out of love for his late little sister.

For the most part, the identity’s involved in Sunghoon’s amateur high school killings to his eventually more-experienced university slaughters were publicly announced.

Those victims being Cha Jun-Hwan, Nakamura Kazuha, Maddison Dupont, as well as her twin brother Maxwell, and a few unnamed others.

News outlets gave you, Sunghoon’s deadly obsession in this horror story, the nickname V, as you played the role of his only victor, escaping the torture fest you endured for three months while his other victims could barely last an hour against his signature weapon:

A Buck 120 Hunting Knife.

Memories of the events that Sunghoon sent you through roamed within the darkness behind your drowsy eyes, and it didn’t help that he practically haunted every other aspect of your waking life.

You smelt him after scrubbing yourself near clean of your own skin.

You could hear his daunting voice in stolen moments of silence.

You saw his face behind every masked murderer in your nightmares.

His oh-so-handsomely crafted face.

You could only imagine how many more people would exalt his name as a Dahmer or Bundy after seeing it.

That kind of thing always bothered you...seeing people on social media praise murderous monsters as if they were worthy of admiration.

In the beginning, you always thought that “V” was short for victim, and it honestly enabled you to feel like one.

That is, up until Dr. Lee, who you always just called Heeseung, stepped in to help you recover.

Or… more accurately, forget.

"How long are you gonna let Sunghoon control your life?" He'd ask you in half-whisper, to which you'd only shrug in response.

It wasn't like you didn't want to get over everything that happened.

Hell, if it were possible, you’d want a complete brain-wipe of Sunghoon, but Heeseung tried everything that was clinically moral to help you.

Your treatment started with cognitive behavioral strategies that helped you associate your fears with the strength it took for you to both withstand and overcome them in reality.

Next, you went through imagery rehearsal therapy to get over the nightmares.

Multiple times a week, Heeseung would ask you to describe your nightmares in detail, drawing pictures or writing out the most vivid scenes as needed. Then, you would write out a changed version of the dream, mentally rehearsing the new imagery until your nightmares were replaced by it.

In all of your illustrated revisions, Sunghoon’s face was completely blurred out in black crayon, because in an ideal world, you wouldn't want to remember that face ever again.

And so, you didn't.

It was a rare medical phenomenon that your treatment resulted in you fully forgetting the face of your humanoid fear, but you still weren't quite ready to live normally.

Despite three months of therapy having passed, Heeseung still wanted to work with you in recovery for at least another half-year.

And this is the exact path that led to you and Heeseung developing into something a little more than friends. Something like occasional dinner dates with equally occasional kissing afterward.

On the lips, of course. That's where he liked kissing you the most.

Currently you were marked at three weeks on a prescribed medication for PTSD and anxiety patients, and you can't remember when you felt better.

There were a few side effects to the medicine, like declined appetite and wonky periods, but you’d rather take that over a potentially worse lifestyle without the meds.

You were finally getting your life back, and with Sunghoon officially out of the picture and new friends by your side, you had nothing to worry about.

Right?

➠ monday

2:11pm

The ways of a Café Royale worker came naturally to you, which is why your boss (aka the café owner) put you in charge of training the new employee, Lee Hyun-Seo, but you just called her Leeseo.

You had been training the young girl for over two weeks, yet she still struggled with the entry level basics, like handling restaurant grade coffee makers or properly handling a broom.

Despite how much of a slow learner she was, you and the staff decided to keep little Leeseo around.

One of the reasons being that her parents were struggling financially, and the girl just wanted to lend a hand with some of their bills.

The other reason was that Leeseo had a way of charming people, staff and costumers included—like a vessel of sunshine, she almost always had a smile on her face, and you commended her for that given everything she was going through at home.

“I can help!” Leeseo beamed, leaping to take the second tray of food and drinks you carried.

“Thanks, kiddo,” you chirped, finally using two hands to hold the tray.

“Ugh, what must I do for you to stop calling me that?” She whined, placing the steaming hot mugs on a costumer's table.

“Focus,” you said, pointing out how she nearly spilled a cup of black tea on someone’s lap.

You beelined back to the front counter, grabbing the plate of assorted sandwiches that just came out. “That’s for table 16,” Yunjin said, “and this is for the hottie at 23,” she continued, handing you a folded napkin.

“What, did he ask for math help?” You teased, observing her phone number jotted down in blue ink on the piece of paper.

“Just give it to him, alright?” She pleaded with frustration, turning back around to prepare the upcoming orders.

You hit up table 16 first before making your way toward table 23, where Nate was sitting. He was the same guy with dyed silver hair you met a few weeks ago, and since then, he had become a regular costumer at Café Royale.

The most you knew about him was that he enjoyed writing creatively, and was working on a piece to enter for a contest. He was also very passionate about his afternoon dose of caffeine, which you find rather odd at best…

You’d give it to Nate that he was a particularly attractive guy, but not worth doing anything unprofessional like… I don’t know, passing a customer your phone number at work?

“Good afternoon, Nate,” you smiled, handing him the napkin to which he immediately noticed its inky etchings.

“Damn, now I’m offended that you think I’m single,” he joked, eyes following the series of numbers on the paper.

“Trust me, I’m not your secret admirer,” you replied, pulling out your note pad to write, “What can I get for you today?”

“Oh, I had something at home. I just like writing here sometimes,” he smiled, closing his computer.

“Well, it must be something juicy if you won’t even let me see it.”

“Ugh, it’s in draft form right now! Give me a few days and I’ll be happy to show yo—“

“Focus, ____,” Leeseo interrupted as she walked by, showing off the $50 tip she just nabbed from table 16.

You sighed, both at Leeseo’s petty remark, your loss on 50 bucks, and Nate’s ability to enthrall your attention.

“Good luck editing,” you smiled, closing your notepad before getting back to work.

Nate had become a usual costumer ever since the first day you met about three months after you started working here.

You two grew particularly close, especially once he started staying back at the cafe during your night shifts to walk you to your car.

Whenever the sun set a few hours before your shift ended, he noticed how nervous you looked... staring outside the French café windows as if the starry night whispered threats.

If it weren’t for Heeseung, you wouldn’t even have a personal car to get you from point A to point B. He gave it to you as a gift once you started working.

He was able to pick you up for the first week of your job, but after that, he couldn’t make the commitment anymore given his own chaotic work schedule.

So, in typical Heeseung fashion, he bought you a whole freaking car, and he wouldn’t let you refuse his offer under any circumstances.

“Just take the damn keys, ____,” he’d chuckle, watching as you shyly did just that, walking over to the vehicle and taking your first spin.

Back to Nate though, he had a funny way of telling you “bye” on nights like those.

"Watch your back," he'd say, waving with arguably the most attractive smirk you've ever seen as you’d pull out of the driveway and head home safely.

Of course, you'd never admit that first part to Heeseung.

You read the order note that Yunjin just wrote from the last costumer: Two iced vanilla lattes with four mini dessert pops. As a waiter, you already expected that you’d do a lot more floor work than just placing food and drinks on a table here and there, so you took it upon yourself to help Yunjin out by fixing this order.

“Thank you BIG TIME,” Yunjin exclaimed, wiping off the counter near the register.

“Of course, you’ve stirred enough drinks for the both of us.”

“Pfft, I was talking about passing Nate my number, Strawberry Shortcake. Do you think he’ll actually call back?”

“Hmm, probably not… I think he said something about having a girlfriend already?”

“Liar! You berries and cream filled liar,” Yunjin teased, tossing a handful of blueberries at you.

“That doesn’t sound very PG,” you giggled back to her, eating one of the blueberries that landed on your workspace.

"Hey," Leeseo said shyly, tapping you on the shoulder, “I’m gonna step out for a bit, if that’s okay.”

“Mhm, you can’t fool me, iPad kid. Now focus, remember?”

“I am focusing, ____… Its just some girls came in from my school and I really don’t want them to mess with me at my job.”

You handed Leeseo a pair of tongs to grab the cake pops you needed, “I didn’t see any girls, Leeseo.”

The metal tongs clinked against the glass cake pop case, “I told you about them last week, ____… plus, girls like them are pretty hard to miss,” she whispered, pointing her head in their direction.

Pretty hard to miss? Yes, but basic modern day teenagers nonetheless? Double yes.

You tried not to make your peeking look so obvious, so you finished up the lattes and brought them to Leeseo’s classmates to get a closer look.

From their conversation, you could tell the two girls were talking crap about someone, thanks to stream of swear words that flew from their lip-sticked mouths. You placed their order down on the table, but they ignored you, daring to raise their voices even louder so you couldn’t get a “You’re welcome” in.

Yikes, you thought to yourself, thinking about the way your high school self, Maddison, and Kaz used to bash Wonyoung while she was in the same room.

“Aiko’s the short one with the eyeliner, and Maeve's the taller one with pink hair. Don’t let their looks fool you though… Aiko’s the real monster.” You remembered Leeseo telling you when you drove her home after training one time.

That was the same day Leeseo mixed up more than four orders and accidentally sweared in front of a little kid. He asked her for a breakfast croissant to which she replied, “Sorry, but you’re shit out of luck bud, we just ran out.”

Harmless mistake, I know, but the kid’s mother wasn’t too forgiving about it.

“Those girls from my school have been blowing up my phone with hate messages since I left school today… I swear they have nothing better to do with themselves…”

“And does that explain why you said “shit” to a little kid,” you asked.

“N-no, but, they’ve got my head in a bad place… My focus is probably ruined for the rest of the day now,” she sighed, washing the chocolate from her hands before sitting on the kitchen floor.

Leeseo found herself in the same place today, sitting on the kitchen floor as you brought Aiko and Maeve their cake pops before joining Leeseo on the ground.

“I knew a girl just like you when I was in high school,” you began, voice almost falling to a whisper, “Much like those girls out there, me and my friends treated people terribly, especially this one person.”

“So then what happened?” Leeseo asked, looking at you, even though your gaze fell to your lap, stuck in a daydream.

Memories that part of you wished you could forget resurfaced in your mind. You swallowed the lump in your throat, tightening your grip around nothing before answering.

“She killed herself.”

Leeseo’s eyes widened a little at your words, her chest raising differently as her breathing style changed.

You could tell she was shocked, as would anyone who heard such a thing.

She remained quiet as if waiting for you to say something else, and so you did.

“Hey, if you’d feel better hiding in the kitchen until they leave, you can.”

She looked up and smiled. “Thanks, ____!” She beamed, reaching in her pocket for her smartphone.

“Nuh uh, you’re still on shift, buddy, now help Yunjin out with the dishes!” You chuckled, heading to the front to deliver more orders.

Yunjin was the only other person you had told about Wonyoung and everything else.

It wasn’t intentional, but after having one to many egg nog shots at a Café Royale employee's function, you confessed as she drove you home.

You had grown comfortable with Yunjin knowing that dark part of your past, and even now with Leeseo, given that you’d always viewed her like a little sister.

Beep, beep.

It was a reminder on your phone that you'd set yesterday, saying that you had to meet with Heeseung at his place around 5pm.

Maybe the girls won't notice if I slip out for the day, you mischievously thought to yourself, hanging your work apron over the wall coat hook before sneaking out of the café undetected.

7:03pm

Traffic had you running late to Heeseung's place, but he wasn't to upset about it, given that he got held back at work an extra hour to sort files in his office. Needless to say, your dinner "date" ended up starting a little later than desired.

Even so, Heeseung made an effort to keep the night special, but it seemed as though your mind was in a different place at the time.

“You’ve barely touched your pasta,” Heeseung nudged, thinking of any way to start a conversation amidst the awkward silence.

“Oh, sorry! Yunjin brought me a coffee so my appetite’s a bit mild.”

“That’s okay, I’m really just trying to get you to say something,” he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his lovesick eyes. He just stared down at his plate, twirling the saucy red noodles around his fork.

“Uhm… well, how was work?” You tried, cringing at yourself.

Heeeseung put his fork down, wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin, “____, why’re you acting like a stranger all of a sudden? You’re always comfortable talking to me. Is it because I was late today?”

Your gaze fell to his lap where he sat with parted legs. Shit, stop peeking, you internally scolded yourself.

You're not sure what made you feel this way tonight, but your mind was on everything else but the pasta in front of you.

Was it the way he decided to cuff his sleeves today? No, he always wore his shirts like that. Maybe it was the way he occasionally tugged at the tie around his neck, or the little breaths he'd let out each time you crossed and uncrossed your legs, or the smirk he'd flash whenever you failed to hold eye contact with him for longer than five seconds.

“So I see you’d rather daydream about my dick than have a simple conversation with me,” He said, voice sounding offended yet prideful at the same time.

You shook your head at his words, biting your lip to keep in the embarrassed laugh that dared to slip past your mouth, “Sure, but you don’t have to say it like that.”

“Why not? I can tell you liked it,” He pressed, talking a sip of the white grape champagne in his wine glass, coating his peachy lips.

In all honesty, you've been sexually attracted to Heeseung since you first met him during one of the darkest stages of your life, and you couldn't help but feel bad about it.

Of course you appreciated him for other reasons, but at the end of the day, he’s your crush and mental health care provider all at once. You dreaded the idea of adding “fuck buddy” to that mix, and frankly, you weren’t sure you'd be able to handle it, despite already testing that boundary a few months ago at his freaking job of all places.

“There are just times when I feel like what you said might be true,” you answered, finally feeling comfortable enough to look him in the face.

“Times where you'd rather daydream about my dick than talk to me?”

“Heeseung!!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop,” He chuckled, his contagious bright smile making you laugh a little yourself, "So what is it?... That happens in your daydreams, I mean," he went on.

"In detail or the safe for work version?" You giggled again, honestly trying not to engage in his flirting for the sake of your own existence.

"I never noticed how pretty your laugh is when you're nervous and trying to hide it," he smiled, tilting his head at you.

"Oh and where'd you find that one, in a Rizzler's 101 Guide?" You teased, nudging his knee with yours.

"No, I really mean it," he smiled again, getting up from his seat and meeting you on the couch.

Gently cupping your face in his hands, he pulled you in for a kiss, which quickly led to a full blown make out session. You don't think you've ever felt hornier while kissing someone as you let out sounds you didn't even know you could make.

Heeseung's hand got lost under your shirt while yours were gripping at his neck, pulling him impossibly close to you. Your legs were hooked around his waist as he softly grinded against you, both of you feeling light headed just from the simple touches and sensations.

You wondered what it’d be like to go all the way, so you took off your top, and he followed after you, kissing down your neck as you clenched around nothing.

The warmth of his breath against your cold skin sent shivers down your spine, your fingers combing through his hair as if trying to calm his growing desire for you.

The little nips he left on your neck reminded you of the way Sunghoon used to wake you up from naps, but you tried to stay in the moment.

Heeseung held your waist with one hand while he slipped past your panties with the other, looking at your face for some kind of cue before touching you any further.

You let out a whine, feeling his fingertip barely graze your sweet spot before he started to rub it in circles.

“I love the little sounds you make for me,” he whispered, inserting two fingers with ease given how wet you were.

The words of Sunghoon echoed in the back of your mind, which was almost worse than actually seeing his face. As much as you wanted this moment with Heeseung, your mind was letting your past get in the way of it.

You felt your heart beat increase with each thrust of Heeseung’s fingers, his pouty lips latched to your skin as if he were a leech.

It all felt so good, but every time Sunghoon crossed your mind, you felt like screaming.

You tried keeping your eyes open so your mind couldn’t deceive you with images, but a certain thought resurfaced when you felt Heeseung pulling down your pants.

I’ll show you just how deranged I am.

“Stop! Stop it! G-get away from me!” You thrashed beneath Heeseung, causing him to jerk away immediately. He stared back at your shaking body in shock, trying to figure out what just happened and why.

“_-____, are...are you okay?” He asked sincerely, looking into your now teary eyes.

Your chest kept heaving as a mix of scary emotions started to build up at your core. “I’m sorry, Heeseung,” you sniffled, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I just... I can’t do this.”

“W-what do you mean? Can’t do what?” He asked again, putting his shirt back on and passing you yours.

“The touching stuff... I just-" you sighed, preparing yourself for his response, “I couldn't stop thinking about him.”

Heeseung knew exactly who you meant, despite you not being able to say his name.

“I understand what you’ve been through, ____, but I hate that it has to affect us even now. I thought you said you got over all that...”

You scoffed at his words, “Aren’t you the doctor here? That’s how trauma works, I’m afraid.”

You reached for your own top, snaking your head through the hole and fixing yourself on the couch.

He stared back at the pasta that now set awkwardly on the coffee table before you. As if your words went through one ear and out the other, he went on to ask, “Is there someone else?”

“What? No, Heeseung, I would never do that to you.”

“I get that, but would it really be all that bad? It’s not like we’re officially in a relationship.”

“Heeseung—”

“I know we’ve been through a lot together, and if you’re not ready for this kind of thing, I’ll move on, love.”

“Just because I’m not ready to be intimate with you?”

It was strange how just a few moments ago you were giggling only to now be turning cheeks at each other. The room fell silent for a few moments before Heeseung got up from his seat and handed you your purse, “You can go now.”

You blinked in disbelief, “You're kidding, right?”

“No. I want you out of here for the night. You need some space.”

“Are you sure this is about what I need?” You asked as he walked you to the door.

“Thanks for coming over. Have a good night, ____.” He whispered, not meeting your face before he closed the door behind you.

You felt confused as you stood outside his apartment, feet practically glued to his "Welcome In" doormat.

The irony, you thought to yourself.

You didn't wanna think about if there was something you could've said or done to change the way things went tonight.

Another oddity was that even though Heeseung was persistent on you continuing with therapy because he knew you weren't ready, he somehow expected you to at least trust him in that moment.

Maybe it was time for you to accept the fact that you'd never be normal... not after Sunghoon.

8:22pm

You went straight home after your argument with Heeseung, that is, if you could even call it that.

By now, you were very aware that guilt was one of your strongest emotions, so you felt the need to call Heeseung and leave things on a more positive note.

Or perhaps it was the only way you could try killing off the awkwardness burning in your veins.

Kicking your shoes off, you didn't bother to wash up before plopping your body on the couch, crossing your feet and typing in your phone password.

You went to your "Favorite" contacts list and pressed Heeseung's name, staring at the call option for a few moments before finally clicking it.

Boop... the dial tone rang.

Boop... the sound lingered a few more times before going to the voicemail option.

Ouch.

You instead opted to leave a voice message, rambling some simple (and apologetic) nonsense and pressing send.

He must've read it because three, hopeful dots appeared as you awaited his response... that never came.

Ring, ring, ring, your phone blared, an unknown caller daring to interrupt your silly love affair.

"Ugh," you sighed, hanging up before the number called again.

Ring, ring, ring.

We can all take a guess what your mind immediately thought of at the familiarly ominous ringtone.

Not wanting to feed into your own cowardice, you answered the call, hoping that it would somehow grant you a fleeting feeling of control.

"Long time no see, ____," the raspy voice slithered from the other end of the phone, laced with a craving for mischief.

You were a bit startled by the caller using your name.

"Sorry, but you're a little late with the Halloween pranks. Try again next year-"

"I was thinking, we should play a game."

Oh dear, not this shit again, you thought to yourself.

"Uh, I think you've got the movies mixed up, buddy. That line's from Saw," you replied, fighting back the giggle that danced in your throat.

The old you would've been trembling from a call such as this, but given the circumstances, you were glad for anything that would distract from your cringey thoughts of Heeseung.

"Hmm, I see you're still the scary movie type?" The voice snickered.

"Not at the moment. Right now, I'm more interested in this game of yours. Though, if it involves stripping, you can count me out early."

"Heheheh, don't worry. There's no stripping this time. I've learned from experience that you're not down for that kind of thing. On-top-of-the-clothes fun was always your favorite."

Your jaw clenched at his statement, making you curious to know who was behind the call this time, but you continued to play along.

"Okay, I'm listening."

"Perfect. It's called guess who's gonna get skewered like a fucking pig?"

"Whoo, we're jumping straight into the extremes, huh?"

"Absolutely! Extreme is my favorite," the voice went on, but you were now (re)distracted by thoughts of Heeseung, dumbly staring at the three dots on your phone screen that had yet to dissolve into a message.

"Hey, you still there?"

"Oop- Sorry... you must be boring me, I guess," you teased.

"You guess what?"

"Oh, I forgot we were playing a game," you chirped, sitting up straight now as if the caller was right in front of you, "Hmm, do I get any hints?"

"No, you're smart enough to guess without any."

"Fine," you exhaled, assuming that the answer was yourself. Preparing to perform, you cleared your throat in case you had to fake-cry, "My guess is some guy who probably watched the Scream movies one too many times."

"Well well well. Has my life been threatened by the very person who failed to take it?"

"W-what did you just say?"

"Aww, you almost sound excited about that. Do you miss me, princess?"

"Uhh, I don't know what you're talking about," your voice cracked at the dreadful nickname, a fear you haven't felt in months rumbling in your chest.

"Do you miss the way I made you feel?"

"I hope this isn't your idea of a funny prank, because the humor died after you asked about scary movies."

"You have a strange obsession with death, don't you ____? Answer me this: when was the last time you visited my grave? Or my sister's grave?"

"You're sick," you spat, raising your voice a little louder than intended.

"Mhm. That just means we have a lot more in common than you thought. Anyways, should I knock or just carve my way in-"

Boop, boop.

You cut the call, immediately blocking the number and running to your bedroom, locking the door behind you.

As if it were a shield, you hopped in your bed, tucking the covers over your head and squeezing your eyes shut.

Albeit, you were now well distracted from any thoughts of Heeseung, but unfortunately, something far more daunting than a pasta party gone wrong took its place.

➠ tuesday

9:15am

You had work at the café early the next morning, and didn't get much sleep after that unexpected call. To no surprise, Heeseung never texted you back, but again, that's not really something you were worried about at the time.

Nate was already at the café when you got there, earlier than his usual time, but you took it upon yourself to serve him before Yunjin could step in to play the role of her own cupid.

"Morning, Nate! Don't tell me you already had something before you came here," you teased.

"Hey, and no, not this time heheheh."

That laugh... were you being paranoid?

"I'll have a black coffee... and maybe something sweet if you wanna surprise me," he smiled before noticing that you looked a little off, "Hey, is everything alright? You don't look too good."

You shifted in your stance, trying to stay in character of the happy waitress he knew you to be, "Oh- yeah, I just didn't get much rest last night. Who knew caffeine was so anti-sleep?"

Ding.

The café door bell rang as a trio of elderly ladies walked in... the same ones Yunjin accused of Karenism after you abandoned ship yesterday.

You didn't want her to have to serve them so you turned in Nate's order so you could take their's.

Leeseo wasn't in work today because she had school, so some guy (who's name you could barely remember) took her place, and boy was he a lifesaver in the kitchen.

He had the older ladies and Nate's order made within minutes, handing you the trays in each hand as Yunjin busied herself doing who knows what.

"Here’s your black coffee and a tiramisu square,” you chirped, placing the mug and plate beside his laptop, “I know you’ve tried this one before, but I really think it suits you.”

“Aww, thanks, ____,” he pouted playfully, “How can I ever repay you for such kind deeds?”

Your gaze immediately fell to Nate’s delicate fingers that rested idly near his keyboard.

“Your story. I wanna see it,” you said plainly, tucking the serving tray under your arm and peeking over his shoulder.

“You’re joking,” he said, slightly closing his computer.

“Aww, c’mon! I’ve been dying to read it! If you make me wait any longer I might literally combust!”

“Fine, okay, I’ll show you,” he sighed, playfully rolling his eyes, “but only because I wouldn’t want anyone to clean up your gory remains.”

He moved his coffee out of the way to prevent any accidents, slowly lifting his computer back up for you to see, “Promise you won’t judge me? Like I said, it’s in draft form—”

“I promise, Nate, now stop stalling,” you giggled, squinting your eyes at the tiny words that filled the screen.

You caught sight of the words ghost face, suicide, and revenge almost immediately, your body language clearly exhibiting how you felt on the inside.

“Is it really that bad,” the platinum haired boy asked with furrowed brows, taking in your now disgusted demeanor.

“I… this is unbelievable…”

“Just give it a chance, ____! Trust me, the plot gets better in the next chapter, when the main character finally realizes that the guy behind the mask was the party host all along—”

"What are you, some kind of sick freak?” You interrupted him, careful not to show your anger as you closed his computer shut.

“I… I’m sorry, what?”

“How much do you know?" You went on, slightly raising your voice.

“____, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he almost laughed, trying to shake off how nervous you were making him feel.

“You’re the pervert who called me last night, aren’t you?”

“____, please calm down, you’re scaring me,” he pleaded, standing up from his seat and placing his hands on your shoulders.

Everything in you wanted to push him away, but once the glares from the surrounding costumers and Yunjin entered your field of vision, you simply backed away, swallowing the anger that bubbled within you.

You reached to take off your apron to which Yunjin immediately scolded you, “Nuh uh, you’re not getting away that easily… Get over here, now.”

Letting out a sigh, you looked at Nate with both confusion and shame, walking behind the café counter to where Yunjin was standing.

“What was that all about?” She asked, shaking your shoulder, “Huh? You’re making me look bad in front of my crush, y’know?”

“I got a call last night. A ghost face call,” you whispered, fighting back the tears meddling with your eyes, “It could’ve been a prank, but it seemed so real.”

She took your hand, guiding you into the kitchen where prying eyes and nosey ears couldn’t interfere.

“And you think it was Nate?”

“He’s writing an entire story about it, Jinnie! I can’t be crazy for drawing that conclusion!”

“And you’re not crazy… probably just a little hangry… and sleep deprived,” she smiled, handing you a cookie you didn’t even realize she was holding til now, “Eat it.”

“B-but the chocolate’s all melted.”

“Eat it, ____,” she giggled, shoving the cookie past your lips and into your mouth.

“Ahh, what the heck!”

“Hey, don’t talk with your mouth full,” she grinned, dusting the cookie crumbs on her apron, “now hurry up and finish that… we’ve got a lot more costumers to serve before our shifts ends."

12:16pm

Later that day, you somehow found the balls to apologize to Nate for blowing up on him. You didn’t expect him to be so forgiving, especially considering that you literally accused him of harassing you.

During the brief apology, you explained to him everything you went through in the past, apologizing again for trauma dumping on him. But, like always, he was very understanding, even laughing it off by saying he’s grown used to people having dramatic responses to his art.

“So, you’re V?” He asked, walking beside you as you made your way back to work from your lunch break.

“I’m what?”

“You know, V. Sunghoon’s survivor.”

You usually didn’t like your name being used synonymously with Sunghoon’s, but this time, you didn’t mind as much. Maybe that had something to do with Nate’s undeniable charm.

“Yeah, I-I guess I am,” you half-smiled, walking a bit slower as you weren’t quite ready to leave his side, “Why were you so fascinated by that story, anyway?”

He hummed in thought, looking at the sky before answering, “I’ve got a pretty messed up past, myself, y’know? I hate that certain things turned out the way the did, but it helped to shape me into who I am today.”

“And who’s that, if you don’t mind me asking. Who are you?”

He smiled, licking his teeth at how catty your voice sounded, “I’m an attractive guy with an ugly little kid who’s both obsessed and afraid of death hiding behind it all.”

“Explain that for me.”

“Only if you’re ready,” he said, a silence meddling between you two before you nodded, cueing for him to continue.

“When I was younger, some guys broke into my parents house while my mom and I were solving a puzzle in the kitchen. She hid me in the cabinet, but didn’t have enough time to hide herself before the burglars shot her straight in the chest. That’s just the short version, but part of me hasn’t been the same since then,” he paused, taking in a breath before continuing.

“I know she’d want me to lead a normal life after everything that happened, but I’m still attached to the darkness I saw. It’s a part of me now.”

You were trying not to show it on your face, but you weren’t expecting a guy like Nate to have gone through so much. He handled his pain a lot better than you ever could, and you both envied and admired him for it.

“Sorry, I know that was a lot to take in,” he sighed, sticking his hands in his pocket.

“Nate, I literally just told you that a serial killer held me captive for months while I carried his baby. You’re good,” you chuckled, nudging him on the shoulder.

You two bonded on other things like your experiences with therapy, sharing with him the medication you’d been taking to help with your anxiety.

“I don’t know, ____. I took that same stuff when I was a kid and it fucked me up bad… I’m sure you’ve been having adverse symptoms from it, right?” he frowned, walking up to the café entry with your hand in his.

Ding.

The bell jingled behind you, gracing both your senses with sweet aromas.

“Yeah, actually… I have.”

“So. You can choose to follow doctors orders or take my advice instead. The choice is yours,” he shrugged, letting go of your hand at the sight of Yunjin coming from around the counter.

She wasn’t oblivious to you two holding hands, but it didn’t bother her much anyways.

“Welcome back, strangers. I see you’re both on good terms now? No more witch hunts?”

“No more witch hunts,” Nate confirmed with a smirk, showcasing the faint dimple on one of his cheeks.

➠ wednesday

6:49am

Screech.

The sound of iceskates gliding across a frosty arena filled your ears.

The audience of chilly bodies was silent, eyes gawking in awe at the sight of the skilled dancer practically controlling gravity itself.

It was astounding how skilled this faceless skater was.

You were very much aware that you were currently in a dream, thanks to the mere fact that you’d never actually attend a figure skating show in real life.

Not that you had something against the sport…you just simply couldn’t handle the thoughts that came with it anymore.

Knock, knock, knock.

And in typical dream fashion, you teleported to an entirely different space within seconds, in this case, your apartment kitchen.

Pacing to the front door, you slung it open to reveal a quaint cardboard package lying on the ground.

You picked up the box, walking over to the kitchen counter before placing it down and grabbing a knife to cut through the packaging tape.

Flipping over the cardboard flabs, you were met with the sight of a tiny red sequined dress and a devil horned headband tucked neatly beside it.

Kazuha, you instantly thought to yourself.

“Remember this?” A gentle voice chirped, pulling you from your thoughts.

You whipped your head to see none other than a figment of the late Wonyoung. Even after all your treatment, you could never forget how beautiful she was… even your dream managed to capture the ethereal essence of her beauty.

She held a blue pregnancy test kit in her hand, dressed in the same school uniform she’d always wear, her pink lace socks resting at her dainty ankles.

“Wonyoung?” You asked in shock.

“The one and only. My brother did a good job of making sure you never forgot about me,” she said with a pout, making your own mood fall.

“I could never forget you, Wonnie. No matter how desperately I might’ve tried to.”

She smiled at your words, taking a few steps closer to you, “I haven’t been called that in a while… anyways, the pack said it only came with one test, but it gave me two instead. Trust me when I say you might need this later.”

You nodded in response, putting the test in your kitchen cabinet and closing the box with Kazuha’s costume in it.

“Hey, not so fast!! I wanted to try that on, y’know?

“Kaz!” You nearly yelped, running into her arms and giving her a hug.

“Okay okay, I missed you too, ____, but chill out with the PDA. I have a strict no-homo rule,” she chuckled, kissing you on the cheek anyways.

“Sooo you and Wonyoung get along now?”

“Surprisingly, yes. When you’re dead, I guess grudges just matter less to you. It’s easier to forgive than to hang on to that kind of pain,” she sighed, propping herself on the counter.

“Speaking of the dead,” you began curiously, “how is he? Sunghoon, I mean….”

The light presence in the room suddenly faltered at your mentioning of his name, Kazuha and Wonyoung exchanging troubled looks to each other before meeting your frame with forlorn eyes.

“W-what is it? Did something happen?” You pressed, sensing the dark cloud that slowly engulfed the three of you in the now dull kitchen space.

Wonyoung fidgeted with the beaded bracelet on her wrist before answering you with a shaky breath.

“Sunghoon isn’t here with us.”

Beep, beep, beep.

Awaking from your dream as if struck by lightening, you reached out a hand at the sound of your vibrating phone rumbling against your nightstand, revealing Heeseung’s contact flashing on your screen.

It was now 7 o’clock on the dot.

“Heeseung?” You asked in a groggy voice, rubbing your eyes from how brightly the sun shone from your bedroom window.

“Hi, I’m standing outside your door right now. Are you home? I knocked over ten minutes ago—”

Boop, boop.

You abruptly cut the call, putting on a pair of shorts (since you slept only in your panties), as you ran to answer the door.

Heeseung was standing there in a very nice outfit, but your current emotions weren’t interested in the slightest.

You practically leaped on him, shaking his shoulders with crazy eyes as you spit out words you yourself could hardly keep up with.

“Sunghoon!! H-he’s- He’s still alive, Heeseung! He never died! That… ugh, that means he's still out there! He's wants me dead, Heeseung! That explains everything!!"

“____, slow down. I can hardly understand a word you’re saying,” he chuckled, cupping your face in his hands, “breathe for me, okay?”

“I- I am breathing, Heeseung,” you sighed, anxiety pumping stronger in your veins than oxygen.

“I know,” he smiled, kissing you on the nose, “can I come in so you can tell me everything?”

You let him inside, taking a seat on your living room couch as he helped himself to fixing both of you a cup of coffee as if you were his guest.

“It was a dream, but… it all felt so real.”

“And I get that, but you know you’re not supposed to entertain those sorts of thoughts,” he half frowned, placing the warm mugs on the coffee table before you, “Now be honest with me, did you want to stay in the dream? Did part of you maybe want to think about Sunghoon?”

“Heeseung-���

“You know I have to ask these questions, ____. What kind of answers were you looking for?”

He peered into your eyes as if searching you for the words you were too afraid to say.

That’s when your phone blared with a text from Yunjin.

“Oh, crap!” you pouted, swiping the message on your phone, “I’ve gotta get ready for work in a few minutes…”

Heeseung tried to maintain his cool demeanor, “Well, can we at least finish our coffee first before you abandon me?”

“Of course, Hee,” you smiled, taking a sip of the milky beverage, “what were you doing here so early, anyway?”

He almost appeared to be caught off guard by your question, but you brushed off the suspicion, blaming it on the dream you’d just had.

“Oh- don’t worry about that now. Let’s just enjoy this moment before you go off to serve the fellow coffee-holics in our city.”

Yes, you and Heeseung often behaved as if you were in a seriously committed relationship, but at the end of the day, there was no label between you two.

A few more minutes passed, and your mugs were empty.

“Thanks for stopping by, Heeseung, but I’ve gotta get ready,” you smiled, walking him to your front door.

“You’re welcome, ____. And by the way, I saw your message. I really appreciate you being mature about everything, and I hope that you forgive me for the way I acted,” he said as you slowly closed the door in front of him, beelining to your bathroom to brush away your coffee breath.

2:47pm

Café Royale was closing early for the day as inspections were scheduled during your afternoon shift, so your entire team had the rest of the day off.

You decided to stay back to do some last-minute tidying before you’d leave.

All there was left to do was throw out the table flower water and leave a note for the inspectors.

That’s when you heard a thud against the back wall of the kitchen, high-pitched pleas falling from a familiar voice.

Leeseo.

You dropped the the flower vase, not caring that it shattered on the ground as you made a run toward the door, following the ruckus outside.

On the side of the bakery, you found the two girls from the restaurant pinning Leeseo against the wall while a girl you didn’t quite recognize recorded the ordeal.

Leeseo’s eyes were squeezed shut as the girl brought the camera closer to her face, “Don’t act all shy now, slut. We know how much you like being on camera,” Maeve cackled.

The part of you that would usually freeze in moments like this had died with Wonyoung.

You marched towards the girl recording, snatching the phone from her hand before launching it into the nearby parking lot.

“What the fuck,” she exclaimed before cowardly backing away. You yanked Aiko away from Leeseo, grabbing her face in your hand.

The two other girls were already making a run for it as your grip on Aiko's face tightened, causing her to wince at the feeling.

“Aren’t you like a grown woman or something? Get your hands off me!!” She squealed, possibly forgetting how to use her arms as she fought dumbly trying to escape your hold.

“I hope you didn’t think that shit was funny,” you said, observing her dull blue eyes.

There was nothing behind them, complete emptiness.

Much like Maddison, you thought to yourself.

“You leave Leeseo alone from now on, alright? She’s a hard working girl and doesn’t need punks like you making her life more difficult.”

Aiko's gaze darted between you and Leeseo who stood awkwardly in front of the wall, “An innocent, hard-working girl, huh? Wow... you really are two-faced.”

“I don’t think you answered her question,” Leeseo pitched.

Aiko only laughed in response, blinking a few times before answering, “Like I said, get your fucking hands off me, or there’s gonna be a serious problem,” she taunted, titled her head before you let go, watching as she walked away.

“See you at school, Flash,” she smiled, disappearing behind a corner.

“What’d she just call you?”

“Nothing!” Leeseo responded, a bit louder than planned.

“Don’t lie to me, kiddo. What does that name mean?”

“It means I’m a slut, okay? Just like they said,” she sighed, picking up her apron that the girls had thrown on the ground earlier, “a stupid slut that sends stupid photos to stupid boys who tell stupid girls.”

You couldn’t think of anything else to say to her in the moment, as you’re sure she had heard enough of your advice.

All you did was pull her in for a hug, running a hand through her hair as she fought with the lump growing in her throat.

“You are not a stupid slut, Leeseo. You’re a teenage girl just trying to survive in this world,” you encouraged, breaking from the embrace.

That’s when you noticed Nate from afar, walking closer as you and Leeseo tried to recollect yourself.

“What was that all about?” He asked, giving Leeseo a side hug as she hid her face from him shyly.

“Depends, how much did you see?”

“Well, I saw you get all handsy with that high schooler who was harassing our girl over here,” he huffed, “you okay, Sissy?”

“Yeah, Nate, I’m fine,” she nearly whispered, crossing her arms.

“Look, Nate, I’m not usually that aggressive. I just couldn’t hold back when I saw-"

“____, stop your rambling,” he smiled, bringing a finger to your lip for a moment, “You were fucking amazing. Most girls wouldn’t have reacted the way you did, and I’m sure Leeseo is grateful that you stood up for her.”

You felt you stomach flutter at his words, or maybe it was whatever compelled him to touch your lips.

“Yeah, Nate’s right. You’re like… kind of a badass now.”

“Oh, only kind of,” you chuckled, nudging her waist.

“Yeah, because you let her go.”

Nate nodded in agreement with Leeseo, shrugging his shoulders in a teasing way, “She does have a point there, ____.”

“Well, it’s important to end your battles just as wisely as you pick them,” you said, the three of you walking towards the parking lot.

“Well said, Yoda,” Nate teased, making eye contact with you before speaking, “so, you doing anything after this?”

“Yeah, I’ve gotta clean up some glass I dropped in the shop, but I’ll text you later if I can meet up.”

“Okay,” he smiled, giving you and Leeseo both one last hug before heading back to wherever he came from, “Stay out of trouble, you guys!”

“We’ll try,” Leeseo called out, walking towards the cafe.

“Hey, you’re off for the day. Enjoy your time-off.”

“I will… after I return the favor,” she winked, heading towards the utility unit and grabbing a broom.

10:15pm

Despite having gotten off from work early, you still felt a little worn out from a certain series of events that occurred earlier. So, you decided to calm yourself down with a nice evening bath before bed.

After blow drying your hair, you proceeded with some simple skincare steps before finally ended with moisturizer.

That’s when you got a call from Yunjin. She was never one to call you this late, so you answered the call, hoping that everything was okay on her end.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked, holding the phone to your ear as you closed your container of face cream.

“Oh my God, someone’s trying to kill me!”

“You’re joking.”

“No, I’m dead serious. Poor choice of words, but I’ve been running for five minutes and I’m about to give up,” she said, voice starting to crack, “…I thought it was funny at first, but now I’m really scared.”

“Oh my God, do you still see them?” You asked again, clutching to your phone.

“No, but I can hear their feet… I’m so fucking scared, ____.”

“I know, Jinnie. Where are you?”

“In the neighborhood-“

“Okay, I’m calling the police-“

“No, ____, don’t hang up!”

“Yunjin, I HAVE to.”

“Please don’t! I already tried but they sent me to the holding line… I just need to hear your voice right now, okay?”

“This is ridiculous! Your life is on the line here, I have to do something!” You cried, heart racing with your feet as you rushed to put on your coat, grabbing your car keys, “I’m gonna call them right now.”

“F-fuck, fuck, fuck,” she stammered, starting to sob, “you really shouldn’t hang up right now, ____.”

“Everything is going to be okay, Yunjin, just keep talking to me, I’m on my way to you!” You panted, running to your car without even making sure your apartment door was locked. “Do you still hear them?”

“Yes, and they’re getting faster! I don’t know what to do,” she said, choking on her own breath.

“Yunjin, sweetie, I need you to calm down. Your nerves are only going to make things worse.”

“What the fuck, ____, I’m gonna die!!”

“Fuck, Yunjin, don’t say that! Look around, is there anywhere you can hide? Any possible weapons?”

“No, I can’t see shit out here!!”

“Wait- I think I see you,” you said, zipping down the street.

“Is that your car? AHHH!”

“Yunjin!?!! What happened?!?!”

“I tripped- ugh, fuck…,” she sobbed, getting up with adrenaline until she caught a glimpse of the cherry colored blood dripping down her leg, making her feel lightheaded.

“Yunjin, are you okay?”

“Eugh- yeah,“ she groaned, “I just can’t feel my fucking legs… hurry!!”

“Shit, I lost you…,” you cursed under your breath until it hit you, “WAVE YOUR PHONE AROUND ON FLASH!”

“I- o-okay, okay!” She stuttered, fumbling with the phone in her hand as she put on the flash and did as you said.

You saw the faint white light radiating from her smartphone about three houses ahead of you.

Slamming your foot on the gas, you nearly flew down the street, a screeching sound echoing from your tires.

Your brakes came to a clean stop as you drifted around the corner, rolling down your car windows.

“Hurry, get in, get in!”

Yunjin only nodded as she ran toward the car, shoulder jerking as the car door resisted in opening.

“What the fuck, ____, unlock the damn door!!”

“Fuck, I did!!” You cried, frantically pressing the unlock button.

Quick thinking kicked in as Yunjin opted for the window, crawling in desperately as the hooded and masked figure sprinted towards your vehicle from behind her.

You reached out your hand to pull Yunjin’s body into the car the rest of the way before zooming off, the crazy killer having gotten just close enough to graze her calf with his blade.

“Hughh,” She exhaled, struggling to get a hold of her breath, “how does he know you?”

Darting through the neighborhood, you tried your best to escape the psycho, even though he didn’t have a chance to catch up with you on foot.

“W- what? What do you mean?”

“The guy in the mask, he said that he was gonna kill me because of YOU, ____! Holy shit, and he was tall as fuck with that freaky ass voice you were telling me about… And there was another girl out tonight! Oh my God, I bet he went after her too!”

“Another girl??” your voice raised slightly, "w-what'd she look like?"

"She's... I've seen her before... that kid... the one from Leeseo's school who comes around the café sometimes."

"Maeve?"

"No, not her... the prettier one."

You didn't wanna think about how Aiko was likely running for her life outside right now, but it was too late to turn around, so you distracted yourself by something else, “…how’s your leg doing?”

“Fine,” she whined, wiping the tears of black mascara that painted her cheeks.

“I don’t feel safe anymore,” she continued, shaking her head as her lower lip quivered, “none of us should…”

“I know, Yunjin.”

“You keep saying that, but I get the feeling there are a lot of things you’re late on clearing up about this, ____. Help me know, too.”

Your chest raised as you took a deep breath, letting out a sigh before answering, “that guy tonight…. I can’t say that I’m sure, but I think it’s Heeseung.”

“Your boyfriend,” she asked confused.

“He’s not my boyfriend, Jinnie.”

“Yeah, and I also doubt he’s a fucking psychopath. Isn’t he a doctor? He helps people for a living, you know?”

“Fuck, Yunjin, he’s the only other person who knows the full story. It just makes sense.”

Silence filled the car for a moment.

“Okay, now THIS is ridiculous. For the love of God, could you think of any other person that would possibly wanna torture us like this,” Yunjin nagged, looking at you as your eyes were still trained on the road.

“It… it could be… I’m just guessing, but… Sunghoon?”

“Huh,” Yunjin scoffed in disbelief, “So your dead boyfriend?”

“Whatever you wanna call it,” you replied sharply, feeling frustrated from life itself.

“Great, so what do we do about him now? How do we beat the final boss?”

Your grip around the steering wheel tightened as both fear and shame rose in your gut. You dreaded the moment you shared your past with Yunjin, and you dreaded the guilt that came with her almost losing her life because of it.

You took a deep breath and focused your eyes on the road, trying to fight back the tears that dared to spill from your terrorized eyes.

“We tell Nate,” you said, making a U-turn as you trailed down the road.

"Right, the computer obsessed nerd who drinks way too much coffee...” she cheered facetiously before continuing, “oh, and do you have an aspirin with you by any chance?"

"No. Here, drink this for now," you said, handing her the water bottle from your car door that you don't even remember purchasing.

She shook her head, taking a long sip from the bottle before resting it between her legs, "All I know is that this costume party better be fucking worth it."

➠ thursday

2:26am

3:43pm

You took Nate up on his previous offer to hang out and decided to invite him to have drinks with you and Yunjin at the local outdoor tea shop. That's where you two decided to tell him everything that happened the other night.

“I just... I don’t know what to do anymore, Nate," you frowned, stirring the tapioca pearls at the bottom of your cup.

“Every problem has a solution, ____. Your goal is to have your normal life back, right?”

“Yes, you know that, Nate. All I've wanted for the past few months is a slice of normalcy.”

He looked at Yunjin, whose facial expression mirrored the frown you wore, trying to come up with something, if anything at all, to grant you this craved slice of the ordinary.

“Fine. I have an idea in mind, but you might think it's a little crazy.”

"Crazier than looking over your shoulder every five seconds in fear of some punk with a knife kink," Yunjin asked in a goofy tone.

"Not quite," he began, taking a sip of his tea before continuing, "I've been meaning to throw this Halloween party at my house for a while. I'll text you all the updates if you're interested, but people will be wearing costumes."

"You're solution is a fashionably belated adult dress-up party?" Yunjin asked, yet stated in disapproval.

"Exactly. It'll be fun and best of all, normal. Obviously there's no pressure for you two to come, it was just an... a dumb idea, I guess-"

"No!" You excitedly interjected in Nate's defense, "That's actually a really great idea, Nate! We're young adults for crying out loud. Silly parties are literally a defining point of our culture."

You're not sure what got into you, but Kazuha would be proud of your willingness to mingle if she was here. Despite your past experiences with costume parties and undeniable intorvertism, you weren't gonna let some masked goon get in the way of your chance at feeling normal again, even if it was only for a few hours.

Yunjin cocked an eyebrow at you in confusion and concern, "I don't know, ____. Being in an environment like that can disturb your recovery. Plus, I'm not sure if that's the safest idea either, considering how that midnight prankster literally cut me."

"We'll be together the entire time," Nate bud in, "I'm a pretty strong guy, y'know? And from what I've seen, ____ here can be pretty badass when it comes to defense."

You tried not to laugh at the memory of Aiko and Leeseo's parking lot showdown yesterday. It flattered you that Nate viewed your protectiveness as a sign of courage, even though you might've gotten a little carried away.

"Uhmmmm, she's blushing... Why is she blushing?! ____, did something happen that I don't know about? Nate, for the love of God, would you please stop smirking!!" Yunjin huffed, dying to know about this obvious inside joke Nate just told.

"I'm not smirking," he lied, chuckling at Yunjin's words as he struggled to look her in the face out of embarrassment.

"We're not hiding anyyyything. Right Nate?" You giggled, flashing him a corny wink.

Yunjin rolled her eyes at you two, taking an annoyed sip from her boba as you guys fought the growing urge to buss out laughing.

That's when you all spotted Leeseo walking home from school with her hair covering her face. You made an effort to call her over, but she obviously ignored you until Nate said something.

"Sissy," He almost whispered with a now forced smile, sensing that something was off by her foggy aura.

She stopped right in her tracks, bashfully lifting her head to reveal her tear-stained cheeks.

The three of you got up from your table, rushing over to comfort her.

"Hey, why the long face, kiddo?" Yunjin asked, taking Leeseo's backpack so the poor girl could finally relax her anxious shoulders.

"S-something happened to Aiko last night," she let out through broken sniffles, "Maeve was telling the whole school about it today."

Oh my God, you thought to yourself.

A worried expression wavered over Nate's features, "W-well... what'd she say?"

"She was talking on the phone with Aiko last night to make sure she got home safely. That's when Aiko said this weird guy kept texting her... Maeve listened to the whole thing..."

"Leeseo, I'm kind of missing the point here," Yunjin pressed, not being able to read through her words clearly.

"Aiko told Maeve that some guy in a costume started chasing her... Another girl was running away with her, but Aiko couldn't tell who she was..."

"Leeseo..."

"Maeve said she heard Aiko stop running, followed by painful screaming and coughing... we don't know for sure but... people are saying that its a ghost face copycat-"

Nate stopped her mid-sentence, wrapping his arms around her as she weeped into his chest.

"I know it's silly that I'm crying because she was such a bitch to me," her voice cracked, tears leaving darkened grey spots on Nate's turtleneck.

"You're not silly for having a heart, Leeseo," you said softly, holding your own hands from how cold your surroundings suddenly became.

"They found her body, ____," she sobbed, hardly being able to contain her breathing, "that freak killed her."

Nothing else was said as there was nothing left to say. You all stood around Nate and Lesseo in a circle, meddling on the increasingly horrifying status of your realities.

Turns out that the new masked goon on the street wasn't some lame copy cat, but unfortunately, someone much more sinister.

➠ friday

11:54am

During your lunch break, you decided to tell Heeseung about Nate's costume party tonight. Not because you wanted him to join you or anything... mostly because you thought it'd be the right thing to let him know. Though, if you knew he would've reacted in the way he did, you simply would've avoided telling him altogether.

"Why would you go to a party like that, ____?" He scolded, shaking his head at you, "People in masks, carrying fake knives and what not. You're not ready, ____! A kid was literally just stabbed to death in our neighborhood!"

"I am ready, Heeseung! Hell, I don't even remember what Sunghoon looks like at this poin. He's officially a part of my past now, and I thank you for everything you've done to help me heal since that, but please, don't ruin this for me."

"Ruin your mood before a bogus late Halloween party?" He scoffed, leaning against the wall in the cafeteria.

You decided to break the news to him after surprising him at work with some lunch you made for him that morning. You understood exactly where he was coming from: Heeseung only wanted the best for you ever since day one, but you still wish he wouldn't have been so harsh about something as simple as a costume party.

"Please don't get mad at me for asking, but have you stopped taking your meds?"

Your heart dropped at his words. Was there an obvious difference in your behavior that would make him know that?

Now it was your turn to feel guilty, "I'm sorry for not telling you, Heeseung. I haven't taken any over the last few days, but I promise you, I've never been happier!"

"____, you think I don't know about that little stunt at your job? Your emotions are out of control!"

"I only stopped taking the meds because Nate suggested I give them a break. If me not feeding into fear is what losing control of me emotions looks like, then so be it," you fought back.

"God, listen to yourself, ____. Valuing the advice of this Nate guy over me, a professional healthcare provider? Where's your trust in me?" He frowned, voice falling to a whisper.

Beep, beep, beep, the cafeteria microwave chimed through the tension of the room. Heeseung had put the lunch you made him in there a few minutes ago, and you're sure it was pretty over-warmed by now.

"I'm trusting in myself from now on," you replied, adjusting your purse over your shoulder and turning to walk away from him, "Enjoy your food, Heeseung."

9:03pm

Once again, it was a Friday night and the mood was right, as you liked to say.

The decorations, the vibes and snack table—it was all reminiscent of Sunghoon's party last summer, but minus the fear that came with it.

Better.

You couldn't help but think about Kazuha in the atmosphere.

Parties were always her scene, and now that you think about it, Yunjin had a spirit very similar to Kaz, and Nate… well, he was a lot like the person Sunghoon had fooled you into thinking he was.

Kind, gentle, healing.

You and Yunjin were dressed to impress in your flirty cat costumes, Nate opting for a more relaxed apparel in a graphic sweatshirt, silver chains, and ripped jeans.

"It's my emo persona," he clarified for the both of you who were still confused as to why he didn't dress up at his own party.

"Cool, so does this emo version of you go by a different name orrr-"

"You died your hair black," you interrupted, staring in shock.

Nate's smile froze before twisting into something more mischievous, "Yeah, I did. Too bad our friend Yunjin here didn't notice... have you been drinking?" He teased, poking her on the forehead.

"Hands off, Lil Huddy, and no, I'm still waiting for the host to show me where the bar is."

"As you wish," he smiled, taking you and Yunjin's hand in his, slipping past the crowd and beelining toward his indoor bar.

One Of The Girls pulsed from the radio speakers, thrumming through the party air as surrounding bodies either swayed or made conversation to the rhythms. The mysterious aura of the song lingered in your limbs as you struggled to wrap your head around what bothered you about Nate's costume tonight.

You didn't wanna say it was the hair, because this new, dark look made him undeniably more attractive. Still, there was something different about his eyes. Something that made you feel uneasy.

So you brushed it off.

"What's your poison," Nate asked with a cheesy grin, placing three chilled shot glasses and a drink mixer on the counter.

“Hmm,” You began, tapping at your chin, “how about something creamy with a dairy base? In honor of our feline outfits.”

“Got it,” he huffed, rolling up his sleeves and examining the array of shelved alcohols behind him. He went for a bottle of banana liquor and crème de cacao. Pouring the amber liquids into the mixers along with some whole milk and ice, he gave it a theatrical shake before pouring it into your shot glasses. “Voila, my ladies! Tell me what you think,” Nate hummed, looking into your eyes as he licked the bead of milk from the rim of the cup.

Yunjin took a sip first and then you, surprisingly pleasant flavors of warm chocolate greeting your taste buds. “Woah, this is actually really good! The banana doesn’t taste synthetic, either!” Yunjin chirped, going back for another sip.

“That’s because I only buy the finest quality products for my guests,” Nate said, eyes turning back to you as he leaned over the counter, wiping the sweet foam from your lips with his thumb.

“Jeez, I’m still right here, y’know?” Yunjin cringed, making you and Nate both feel a little shy.

“What’s this drink called anyway? I wanna make it at home sometime,” Yunjin continued.

“It’s called a Banshee. You can look up the recipe online.”

“Oooh, sounds dangerous.”

“It’s not. Most Banshee’s only warn of pending deaths, while others relish in the pain of people who’ve harmed them in some way.”

“Interesting, but what does that have to do with bananas and chocolate,” you asked.

“The short answer is nothing at all,” Nate said, walking around the counter to sit in between you and Yunjin, “it’s just a silly name, I guess.”

After you three finished up your drinks, you headed back to the dance floor where you made absolute fools of yourselves. Yunjin, who got the dropsies early on, called in an Uber to drive her back home.

“Yunjin, I’m not letting you go home alone while drunk,” you retorted, walking her to the car, “Besides, I’m sure your driver won’t mind looking at two pussies for the night.”

“Yeah,” she giggled, leaning her head into your shoulder, “but maybe some other time when I'm a little more in touch,” she smiled, drawing your attention to the tinted windows of the vehicle. You could barely make out what the driver looked like.

“Anyways, you and Nate deserve this night together. I’ll be fine, I promised,” she said with slurred words as you watched her enter the vehicle.

“Okay, Jinnie. I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you waved as the car pulled off.

“Tomorrow!” She cheered back before rolling up the window.

10:16pm

The party continued as normal, you and Nate sticking by each others side for the entire time. As expected, a few ghostface cosplayers welcomed themselves to the party space, but you weren’t gonna let them worry you.

Buzz. Buzz.

Your phone vibrated in your purple handbag. Pulling out your phone, the bright screen revealed an incoming call from an unknown number.

What a wonderful surprise, you thought to yourself.

You went to press the hangup button, but Nate stopped your hand, meeting your eyes with his encouraging ones.

“Go on… answer it,” he almost whispered, securing your waist with his protective hand.

You’re not sure what compelled you to listen to him, but you felt strong enough to answer the call just as casually as it came.

“Who is this,” you asked dumbly, your gut having told you exactly who it was before answering.

“Does my voice ring any bells?”

Gut wrong. It was Heeseung. You had forgotten all about how you blocked him a few hours after your argument to make sure he didn't get in the way of your party plans. That explains why he called from a burner number.

“What do you want, Hee,” you said with a sigh, now walking away from Nate’s hold.

“Oh, so first, you risk your health by going against my advice, and now I’m not allowed to check on you, either?”

“I’m fine, Hee,” you answered, only for another ring tone to fill your ear.

You glanced at the phone screen: another unknown number was intersecting the call.

“Gimme a second,” you paused, accepting the incoming call and putting Heeseung’s line on hold.

“You're enjoying this, aren't you?”

Nevermind. Gut actually right, just slightly delayed. It was the ghostface creep calling to ruin your fun.

“Enjoying what, exactly?" You pressed, already feeling yourself get a little nervous.

"Enjoying this taste of normalcy, of course. You're not trying to forget about me, are you princess?" The gravelly voice slithered, sending chills down your spine.

It was obvious that this psycho wanted you to think they were some kind of Sunghoon Park reincarnate, coming back to haunt you all over again. The part that you didn't understand, however, was how they knew so much and why they were willing to kill for the sake of a prank.

"Look, I don't have time for your games right now, stay out of my life," You bit back, trying to hide just how scared you truly were.

"Oh, ____, we both know that I can't do that. But I'll promise you this much: No more games tonight. Deal?"

You took a moment to breath before answering, "D-deal."

"Perfect. Now if you're a smart girl who learns from her mistakes, you won't hang up until I say so," the voice hissed.

The sound of what you assumed was a vinyl record scratching against a pin met your anxious ear, an upbeat piano tune rumbling from the track.

"Unusual. They say strange fascination, in...fatuation! A lunatic."

"What is this," you couldn't help but ask, even though you knew there wouldn't be an answer.

"Cause my insides are red, and yours are too! And the red on my face is matching you," the chilling recording sang, "And goodness you're bleeding. What a wonderful feeling. You're down and you're pleading. My head is just reeling-"

You subconsciously walked back closer to Nate as the chorus erupted, bumping into him as you were lost in whatever trance this freak was successfully putting on you.

The urge to hang up grew stronger with each second, but you knew better than to test your luck so soon.

"ꪻꫝꫀ ᥅ꫀᦔ ꪑꫀꪖꪀᦓ ꠸ ꪶꪮꪜꫀ ꪗꪮꪊ " The final lyric whined before the phone call ended abruptly.

Heeseung's line appeared to have cut a few minutes ago, too.

No... he hung up on you.

You called Heeseung back who immediately answered, “Where are you?” You started, not even trying to hide your sense of urgency.

"Why, your new boyfriend abandoned you already?"

"Cut the crap, Heeseung, where are you??” Your voice cracked this time.

"God, I’m at home, ____, why--"

Nate snatched your phone, cutting the call as he turned you to face him, "What the hell was that all about?"

“That ghost face creep wanted me to stay on the phone while he serenading me...”

"You're kidding."

"I wish. Too bad I got scared into listening."

"It's okay. I'm sure you did the right thing. Now where are we headed."

"Wherever Heeseung is. I'm skeptical that he may be behind all of this, but if he's not, that phone call I got was just a distraction. He could be in trouble." You said, taking Nate's hand in yours as you led him outside of the party and to his car.

"Okay. Is there any way you can track his location?"

"Yeah, as long as he has his phone with him," you said, getting in the car and putting on your seatbelt.

Nate passed you your phone so you could pull up Heeseung's whereabouts. From the looks of it, he was driving somewhere, and definitely not home like he said he was.

"What's he doing in the middle of nowhere?" Nate asked, narrowing his eyes at the phone screen.

"I have know idea, but we have to follow him," you said, holding up your phone for Nate to follow the directions.

10:20pm

Yunjin sat quietly in the backseat, observing the night skyline behind the foggy car windows in between her recurrent dozing.

A certain bump in the road caused the car to shake, disrupting Yunjin's slumber once again. That's when she overheard the Uber driver on the phone with someone.

"Hey... not sure if I'm hallucinating or not, but were you just on the phone with my friend?” She asked, having heard a familiar voice on the other end of the call.

The driver didn't pay Yunjin any mind as he continued speaking on the phone, the female voice repeating the name "Heeseung" a few times before hanging up.

"Oh my gosh!" She gasped in shock, taking in the view of the drivers face from the rearview mirror, "You’re Heeseung? Wow, you’re like... wayyyyy hotter than I thought you’d be. Respectfully, of course, since you and ____ have history. She is literally so lucky to have you around.”

“She sure is," he said with a forced smiled, but it didn't quite reach his dark, doe eyes.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he turned down yet another rocky trail.

“Hey, I think you made a wrong turn, my street is that way…” Yunjin mumbled, not wanted to come off as bossy.

“Oh- Yeah, I'm taking a short cut to avoid traffic, don't worry about it.”

She simply nodded in response, dozing off for another 10 minutes before waking back up again. Yunjin was never really a lightweight when it came to drinking. If anything, it sometimes seemed as though she was immune to its effects.

"What the hell was in that Banshee," she thought to herself, rubbing the heaviness from her glittery eyes before looking back out the window again, taking in the view of trees and wildlife that made up her surroundings.

“Hey, we’ve been on this road for a while now, are you sure you're on the right path?”

Heeseung pursed his lips at her question, taking a breath and holding it in his chest for a moment, “I can't take you home tonight," he said, eyes still trained on the road ahead of him as he locked the doors.

"Haha, very funny, but suddenly, I gotta piss. So unless you wanna smell my golden release in your car for the next month, I suggest you take another detour, Dr. Lee," She threatened, unbuckling her seatbelt to ease the pressure around her stomach.

"I'm afraid I don't have much time to tell you this, but someone from ____'s past is out to hurt the both of you. You need to understand that Nate is not who he says he is," Heeseung frowned, letting go of the breath he'd been holding.

“Yeah, no kidding, but that still doesn't explain where the fuck you're taking me,” Yunjin retorted, fidgeting with the car door handle as a way to annoy him.

“Would you please stop doing that? I'm already on edge right now, and you would be too if you actually listened to what I'm saying," Heeseung sighed, raising his voice slightly.

"I am listening."

"Great, so hear this. I'm taking you somewhere safe from whatever's to come tonight.. otherwise, you could be in even more trouble.”

Yunjin let his words sink in before answering, "Okay, I hope that I'm making the right decision by trusting you, but what about ____?"

"I'll take care of her after this, just focus on yourself right now," he replied, pulling the vehicle into the driveway of a mysterious log cabin cradled within the depths of the forest.

"Get out," Heeseung said, exiting the vehicle with haste as Yunjin followed after him, walking up to the front door where a key was hidden beneath the doormat.

"Just follow me, he'll find you too easily up here," he went on, grabbing her hand and leading her to the downstairs basement.

With how fast Heeseung was moving, Yunjin barely had enough time to make out her surroundings, her peripheral vision being filled with colors instead of identifiable objects... Or maybe that was the affect of Nate's Banshee still lingering in her system.

The last thing she'd remember was Heeseung bringing her into the basement before closing the door, approaching her with a wooden chair in his grasp as everything around her went black.

10:52pm

According to your phone's GPS, you were still a few minutes shy from arriving at Heeseung's location. Though, the undeniable familiarity of your surroundings brought up a feeling of anxiety in the pit of your stomach.

The way the moonlight peeked through the trees, casting an ominous glow on the hood of Nate's car was all too reminiscent of a few scenes from your nightmares.

Scenes where Sunghoon would drive you to and from the clinic as if it were a daycare center for punished girls, watching from the hospital cafeteria window as bright mornings slowly faded into a starry nights.

Much like tonight, that is.

The bright car headlights of the vehicle glazed the surface of a rectangular sign hanging above the front door of the shady cabin. hidden within the first as Nate pulled into the driveway. A sign that read the words "Park Lodge."

Another sight that caught your attention was the same Uber car that Yunjin got into and the front door that was left open.

Oh God, help me please, you thought to yourself, or maybe prayed, fidgeting with your fingers as Nate stopped the car, ceasing the calming sound of the air conditioner.

"Are you sure you wanna go in, or would you rather stay out here," Nate asked softly, looking in your direction as you simply stared in your lap.

Still dressed in your slutty cat costume, you couldn't help but feel silly, almost as though you'd gotten dressed up to make a fool out of yourself tonight.

So many thoughts and questions were running through your head: Was Yunjin okay? Why the hell would Heeseung come here? Does he have something to do with this recent outbreak of ghost face hysteria? Who could you trust?

Slam.

You closed the car door, leaving your hand bag behind, walking up to the cabin with Nate beside you.

Despite everything you'd been through, this was easily one of the most frightening experiences of them all, but you couldnt let fear get the best of you.

Not yet.

Not now.

"What is this place," he asked, taking in the interior design of this forbidden cabin you knew all too well.

"My former torture chamber," you sighed, opening door after door in search of anything at all, "The place where Sunghoon would..." your voice trailed off, "the place where it all happened."

Nate only hummed at your words, eyes scanning your movements as you continued to search the space like a maniac, but to no avail.

That's when you saw a trail of dirt leading to the basement.

Two trails, that is. One from a man and the other from a female.

"In here!" You called out to Nate who ran towards you, twisting the door handle that refused to grant you access.

"Step back," he said, and you did, watching as he gave the door a few kicks before it slung open, the handle clashing with the wall behind it.

"Watch your step," he warned, taking in the extravagant view of steps that lead to whatever was hiding within the darkness of the basement aside from the many demons Sunghoon left behind.

Step by step, you watched as your feet met each level, Nate's shoes clicking behind yours. Once your boots finally met solid ground, you weren't too surprised to see Heeseung pacing around the room casually.

You didn't even realize Nate was holding your hand until he let go of it, leaving your side for reasons you didn't immediately understand.

“What’re you doing here!?” You nearly shouted, a disgusted look wavering over your face at Heeseung's relaxed demeanor.

But to your surprise, he didn't answer, only watching as Nate made his way to the closet, looking to Heeseung before asking, "Is she in here?"

Heeseung nodded, and with that, Nate took it upon himself to open the closet door, revealing none other than Yunjin's unconscious body sitting, no, tied to a chair with rope, a rectangle of duck tape covering her mouth.

You’re not sure why you just stood there and watched, but you did. Something about seeing yet another person end up in a bad situation simply because they were your friend made you freeze.

Nate’s previously nervous expression was taken over by a much more malicious one, his hand going to grab a handful of Yunjin's hair before giving her head a shake, “Is anybody home,” he snickered, but she remained asleep, only groaning at his actions.

“Don’t touch her like that!” You finally yelped, causing Yunjin to regain her consciousness from the loudness of your voice.

Nate removed the tape from her mouth.

“_-____?” She stuttered over your name through half lidded eyes, looking back at you.

Slice.

Blood trickled down Nate’s arm as he dug the rim of his knife further into the flesh of Yunjin’s throat, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as her arms tensed up from the pain.

“Shit, looks like I missed the rope,” Nate pouted facetiously, letting her head hang forward as he licked the bead of blood that trailed down his knife, “I've always had bad aim.” “Why the hell did you do that!!” Heeseung yelled, running up to Nate and pushing him away from Yunjin, “We agreed that we weren’t gonna kill her, that’s why I told you to spike her drink in the first place!”

“But gosh, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” Nate defended, to which Heeseung scoffed annoyedly.

“Yunjin didn’t hurt your sister! And she wasn’t like that other girl you killed that night. Our other targets deserved to die. Not her,” Heeseung said with a heavy voice, almost as if wanting to cry, but you knew he wouldn’t.

Closing the closet door, a look of disappointment wavered over his features, “You're loosing grip of your purpose, Sunghoon.”

You felt as though your world stopped spinning at the realization of everything that was going on.

So you weren't just going crazy this entire time?

“N-…. N-no, it can’t be,” you stuttered, feeling as though your legs would give out. “Don’t touch me!” You barked as Heeseung tried to catch you from falling, which you did anyway, right to your knees.

“This whole time… S-Sunghoon, I...I thought... y-you're supposed to be dead,” your voice cracked, another tear joining the cloudy stream that already stained your face.

“With that logic, I guess I'm supposed to be a lot of things... Sane, kind, honest. By now though, you should know that I've always danced to the beat of my own drum," Sunghoon smirked, playing with the bloody knife in his hand, "What did you think of that song, by the way? Pretty good, right?"

“You fucking monster! Y-you… you killed two innocent people!”

"Oh, big woop! It's not like they were going to turn out to be anything anyways," Nate scoffed, twirling the weapon once again, "I'm sure you probably have a lot of questions you'd like to ask, so I recommend you start talking before my patience runs out."

"Heeseung... I... I don't understand your role in all of this..."

"There are no excuses for my actions, ____, but I owed it to Sunghoon. We both found each other during some dark times in our lives. He promised to help me get some pretty bad people off my back if in exchange, I helped him kill off that Jun-Hwan guy... I just got in too deep to turn back.”

"But why? Why go on for so long? Why not just kill me off and relish in your fleeting sense of justice?" You cried, not being able to control the tears spilling from your eyes.

Your entire life for the past 6 months had been nothing more than a big fat lie.

“God, didn't I already explain this part to you everyday when I had you down here all those days? I did it for my sister, ____,” Sunghoon hissed.

"So you tortured me everyday for months while I carried your child for some lame attempt at redemption?"

"Exactly. See? I knew you were smart."

“No... maybe in the beginning your intentions were noble, but now you’re just acting on your own sick impulses! You like hurting people!”

"Okay, I thought I told you to ask questions, not lecture me."

“Your entire plan was to make my life a living hell! All that shit you said about loving me was a part of this grand psychological game you’re playing!”

“Bingo! You’re on fire, princess,” he winked, unfazed by your emotional outburst, "Now, in a few seconds, I'm going to slit your eyelids in half so you can watch as I stab you multiple times in the face. Any last words?"

You couldn't even be mad at yourself for falling for his tricks... People always said that psychopaths had a way of making some of the most convincing actors.

"Fuck you," you spat, lips trembling like an earthquake before him.

"Cute. If you so happen to wake up in heaven, tell Wonyoung I said-"

Bang.

A silver bullet lodged through the center of Sunghoon's chest, the loud sound making your ears pop.

Bang.

Another bullet joined the first one in his chest, the silver blade finally falling from his cold grasp and clashing with the wooden floor.

Bang.

This shot went off with a ring, gushing through his forehead as his now lifeless body met you on the floor, splashes of red decorated your skin. It was interesting how his beautiful face stayed in contact after the collision.

Your jaw went slack at the sight, a mixture of terror and surprise running through every cell in your body.

You turned to see the source of the gunfire, finding none other than Leeseo standing with the smokey weapon still pointed at Sunghoon's head, her index finger slowly easing into the trigger again.

"That's enough!!" You yelled, haulting what would've made her fourth shot at him.

Putting the gun on safety, she tucked it into her brown leather jacket, grabbing you by the hands as she lifted you up from the ground, greeting you with her embrace.

"What the hell are you doing here, kiddo," you sniffled in her shoulder, feeling as though your body was on the verge of breaking.

"I suspected Nate had something to do with Aiko's death, so I started following him and noticed that he kept coming back here for some reason," she whispered, breaking from the hug.

"Leeseo-"

"I'm so glad that I brought my dad's pistol with me tonight. I heard that there was a party going on and I had a feeling what kind of monster I was dealing with early on. It sucks to say that my instincts were right-"

"Leeseo-"

"I saw him kill Yunjin from upstairs. I froze at the sight in the same way you did-"

"Leeseo, listen."

"What?" She said, taking your hands in hers.

“Nate wasn't real… his real name is Sunghoon Park.”

She screwed her eyebrows at your words, "Wait- Like the original guy from the ghost face incidents this summer?"

"Yes," you replied plainly.

"But... the news said he died... h-he... no, V hit him with a car outside of the hospital! He was in a coma-"

"Look, there's a lot more to the story that I have yet to tell you because I'm still trying to understand some of it myself... I'm just glad you were brave enough to stand up for us like that."

All she did was smile. Even in the face of danger, she always had a way of bringing sunshine to the room. "Are you sure I shouldn't shoot him one more time though?"

"He's dead, Sissy. For good this time, okay?" You reassured her as the sound of police sirens rumbled from above the basement.

Could this girl get any smarter?

"Hey... Where'd Dr. Lee go," she asked, taking one more good look around the basement.

"Don't worry about Heeseung. He wasn't on our side, either," you sighed as a team of police officers came rushing down the stairs, infiltrating the space.

➠ a little over one week later, monday

You still think about what would’ve happened if you wouldn't have dragged Yunjin into going to Sunghoon's party with you that night. If you didn’t trust "Nate" over your own gut feelings, falling for his charm in the same way you did when you first met him. If you never continued therapy or even a relationship with Heeseung. If you never betrayed Wonyoung for your friends to the point that she was bullied to death.

Would you, Kaz, and Madds still be friends, attending the same university together as you took on the exciting new adventure of adulthood? Would Sunghoon and Jun-Hwan be professional athletes in the Olympics, Wonyoung cheering them both on from the sidelines?

So many questions, but you're afraid there are only limited answers to them at this given moment in time.

Right now, you were rewarded the chance to lead your life the way you wanted, fear-free. “Hey, ____! Are you still down to hang out after work? I wanna show you the poster I was working on for Café Royale's holiday menu!” Leeseo chirped as she untied the bow to her apron, tucking it away in her sack. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a sec!” You called out to her, heading to lock up the kitchen before you left.

The owner of Café Royale had flew in town a few days ago, as she was also in search for normalcy some place outside of town. She felt the need to come down and check on things, bidding her condolences. "You might wanna keep a good eye on these," she said, placing the store front keys in your hand as she made her way outside, you following closely behind after hanging your apron over the wall hook. "I really can't thank you enough for this, ma'am," you expressed, watching as she got into her fancy purple car.

"Start by not letting me down. I understand that this is a big responsibility I'm leaving you with, but I know you can handle it. You're a trooper, ____," she smiled, closing her car door before pulling off, joining the rest of the busy vehicles rolling up and down the road. Leeseo was already at your side by now, hooking your arm in hers as she lead you in the direction of her "In Progress Creative Project."

"What'd the boss lady wanna tell you," she started, legs following the exact same step speed at which you walked.

You took a moment to soak up the evening sun, relishing in this feeling of normalcy you oh-so craved for far too long.

Here goes that word again, you thought to yourself, meeting Leeseo's eyes with your own enlightened ones.

"Let's just say I'll be sticking around this town for a lot longer than planned."

Fin.

❅ Thank you all so much for reading Part 3 of this absolute train wreck of a story! Special thanks to @ashgonedash the original requestor of this story, @squoxle my trusted creative assistant, and @yourmomscuntis2tighy for additional support and creative inspo! Couldn't have done this one without y'all!

❅ Make sure to check out my enhypen bookshelf here for my fun reads and yonder content !!

✎ ᴀ/ɴ: in no way, shape, or form does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. i simply write for entertainment and creative purposes. thus, reader discretion is always advised.

taglist: @ashgonedash @nikilvr @ttokyoobv @yourmomscuntis2tighy @fightqueen @addictedtohobi @sltfohoon @lisaaannna @beomgyusonlywife @casualcloddeputyherring @calichuchies-blog @devqrasgirl @rhiannass @lovelycassy @pinapplefntacupss @en-thralled @nikimeows @kaykay11sworld @j-wyoung @flowerbe0m @clarisabutterfliescupcake @wonnyan @sunghoonmyprince @heeseung-min - EVERYONE ELSE I couldn't tag for some reason?? Sowwy hehe

[suzukiblu]

In "you're a real katch" I'm a bit stuck on how no one's noticed Superboy supposedly having visited Superman but having no memory of it and etc with Match impersonating him. I do feel like what's going down now should reveal that one cause this is a bit of a major thing to miss.

I'm overthinking this.

I am enjoying Match getting comfort and etc.

This clone needs therapy

This clone needs SO much therapy, hahaha.

I absolutely also overthink, lol, you are not alone, friend. So my thought process with Matching going repeatedly unclocked by Clark starts with Match only supposed to have done these visits/drop-ins a handful of times spread out OVER time, and is probably also counting times where he was passing for Kon long-term and no one found out 'til later, so it wouldn't typically be a super-regular thing with a ton of chances for Clark to notice anything weird.

Historically Match only HAS gotten clocked as "Not Actually Kon", like, MAYBE twice that I can recall--once by Tana, who got him pretty much cold, and once by Tim and Cissie when the Agenda had him start yelling about INCREDIBLY out of character for Kon shit on national television (after weeks if not MONTHS of NOT previously clocking him), and if it's happened any other times that weren't deliberate reveals I don't know about 'em. Even KON wasn't sure if Match wasn't an alternate version of him during the whole Suicide Squad thing! Hell, even MATCH wasn't, though like, obvi that was Amanda Waller's fault, but still canon! Still counts, haha!

In general Match is depicted as being REAL convincing at passing for Kon to the point that even deliberate acts of sabotage he commits in the process look like shit that people could genuinely believe Kon would do/"mistakes" that people could genuinely believe Kon would make. Plus there's also the fact that, well, you don't always talk about every time you've seen each other with someone, you know? And even when you do sometimes you just say "the last time I/you came over" or "when I saw you the other day" and "no I forget, what'd you say it was?" or "uhhhhh dude that was like a month ago, remind me?" or just things along those lines. So they weren't meant to be particularly memorable visits or anything, just like, "normal" interactions Clark would be used to having with Kon every now and then, and not necessarily involving any topics that would come across as suspicious for Kon to know/ask about.

And like, if nothing else, Clark has ALSO gotta be used to having a better memory than literally everyone he knows ( and the fact that just about everyone has a WAY worse and more easily-influenced memory than they think they do ), so I don't think he'd necessarily tweak to having to remind someone about something he might've just mentioned in passing as unusual in his life experience. Especially since all extremely dedicated human-passing efforts aside, Clark still probably doesn't have the most accurate grasp of how much a normal memory would hold onto, given how wildly those can vary from person to person and how much harder that is to objectively learn/observe than shit like, how to flinch and what struggling to lift something looks like and what temperatures should be uncomfortable/painful.

And like, final finishing move: no offense to Kon, but historically he does not have the BEST track record at always fully grasping/understanding what Clark has said to him and has misunderstood or misinterpreted him MORE than once, so if Kon ever got confused about something "they" already talked about, it would not REMOTELY be an outlier to either him or Clark, haha.

[sorrowsofsilence]

Burning Out • III

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 5.4k

General fanfic Warnings: 18+, explicit language, smut, alcohol, drugs, violence, mentions murder/suicide, panic attacks/anxiety, nightmares

Authors note: Chapter Three - One of Us is Broken Glass (EDITED 09-03-24)

new? start from chapter one here

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY, IN REAL LIFE! IT IS SIMPLY FICTION, AND JUST FOR FUN! THINK OF THEM AS ACTORS LOL.

+

“What the fuck are you doing?” I whispered-yelled, furrowing my brows at him in distaste.

“Kiss me,” he pleaded, kneeling in front of me again with an expression filled with fear and distress.

“Excuse me?” I now yelled a bit too loudly as the door below us rattled once more.

“LAPD! Open up!”

“I need you to kiss me, please,” Noah's intense gaze locked onto mine as he begged, “Just this once Y/N.”

I hesitated for a moment but ultimately gave in to Noah's desperate request. His hands gripped the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair as he pulled me towards him. With complete desperation, Noah kissed me intensely.

+++++

NOAH

My earbuds blasted music as I strolled along the sidewalk, glancing at the houses Y/N and I had passed by earlier. A few of them still had lights on despite the late hour, so I kept walking until I reached a cul de sac lined with townhouses. Putting on a ski mask and pulling up the hood of my sweatshirt, I adjusted my backpack straps and began scoping out each house, searching for a potential target. My eyes eventually landed on one with a dimly lit living room and the sound of a cat meowing at the door. Normally, I would avoid houses with lights on, but something about this one drew me in. Was it the cat? I've always been a sucker for felines.

As I approached the front door, I scanned for any security cameras while listening to the cat's cries from inside. When I confirmed that no one was home, and it was just the cat waiting for its owner, I knew I hit the jackpot.

Sighing to myself, I accepted that this was the house I had chosen for tonight's target. Maybe I could take a few minutes to pet the cat before the guilt sets in. Unzipping my backpack, I retrieved my metal tools and got to work on picking the lock. With my phone in hand, I timed myself to see how quickly I could do it; it was the only way to make this mundane task somewhat enjoyable.

Using a tension wrench and pick, I twisted and turned, feeling for the springs and listening for the pins to drop into place. It took some trial and error, but after twenty-eight seconds, the lock clicked open and I stepped inside.

The cat greeted me immediately with loud purring and winding itself between my legs. Kneeling down, I scratched behind its ears as I flipped through its collar with my covered fingers. The cat was large, with an orange-gray coat and white markings that swirled around its

As I stroked the orange cat, I couldn't help but smile at the name - Juice. The cat purred loudly, enjoying the attention. I stood up, knowing I had to get to work quickly. Grabbing my flashlight from my bag, I made my way into the living room. As I went to turn off the lamp to avoid drawing attention, my eyes wandered over the walls adorned with various band posters against the light green paint. My gaze stopped on the sleep token poster above the couch, bringing memories of Y/N's smiling face flooding back into my mind.

Well, I believe Somewhere in the past Something was between You and I, my dear

Shaking the lyrics out of my head, I took it for a coincidence, before looking through various drawers. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

I made my way through the first floor of the house, scanning each room for a bathroom, and searching for valuable medications that I could sell for a profit. The guest bathroom offered no luck, so I decided to head upstairs.

The stairs creaked under my weight as I ascended to the second floor, and once I reached the landing, I spotted another bathroom and eagerly opened its medicine cabinet. My heart raced with excitement as I saw various prescription bottles inside: Diazepam, Adderall, Zolpidem, and even cough syrup containing Dextromethorphan. This was my lucky day, but I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt.

Stuffing the bottles into my bag, I moved through the hallway towards the nearest bedroom. Juice followed me, meowing loudly at my every step. I tried to shush him, but he remained persistent in his demands for attention.

Pushing open the bedroom door, I was hit with a familiar scent of perfume. It took me a moment to place where I had smelled it before.

My eyebrows furrowed as I looked around, trying to figure out where to start searching; until my eyes landed on a collection of polaroids taped above the oak wooden bed. I walked closer, and my heart sank at the sight of a woman's smiling face in each photo.

It was her house - Y/N's house.

I couldn't believe it. Out of all the houses I could have broken into, it had to be hers. Whatever sick strings fate was trying to pull, it’s turned the one good thing that’s happened to me, into a twisted game.

Feeling guilty and scared of being caught, I quickly scanned her room for any valuables before turning to leave. But just as I was about to make my escape, I heard someone opening the front door. Panic surged through me as I fought to think of an escape plan, and my hand instinctively covered my mouth, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Juice?”

It was her. Fuck.

Looking around the room frantic, I debated where I was going to hide. Closet? Bathroom? Under the bed?

“Juju baby? Where are you?”

I heard Y/N's footsteps fade towards the kitchen and took this as my cue to make a move. Every step I took across the room was accompanied by a loud creaking sound, and I cursed myself for not being more stealthy. She must have heard me; there's no way I could make it to the bathroom now.

Juice watched me with curious eyes from the corner of the room, but it was too quiet downstairs, and I knew Y/N was listening. Suddenly, Juice's head snapped towards the door at the sound of Y/N's muffled footsteps coming up the stairs. My heart raced as he ran out of the room, leaving me alone and anxious. I quickly slid behind the closet door, peering between the cracks.

The hallway light flickered on and my breath caught in my throat. Y/N screamed before her laughter echoed through the house.

"Jesus Christ, cat! You scared the shit out of me!" she exclaimed.

Oh god, what am I going to do?

Juice came back into the room and landed on the bed, staring at the closet with wide eyes. As soon as Y/N entered, I knew I had to get out of there.

"What? Are you hungry? Your bowl is full," she said, shaking her head as she pulled off her sweater. This was my chance to escape.

I carefully slid out from behind the closet door while her back was turned. But just as I was about to pass by her, she threw her sweater into the hamper and turned around. In a moment of panic, I grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth with my hand to stop any screams.

She struggled against me but I held onto her tightly.

Why didn't I just run? Why did I think this was a good idea?

With a racing heart, I turned her around to face the mirror, hoping she would see that I meant no harm.

But tears fell from her eyes as she whimpered, looking back and forth between my masked face and the gun in my waistband.

Of course, she would be afraid.

I was a masked vigilante with a gun.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I said softly, my voice trembling. I knew I had to run as soon as I let go of her. She would never know it was me, and everything would be okay because I could just delete her number and never see her again...right?

Y/N's body trembled in my arms as I held her tightly. Even though I squeezed her for comfort, I knew she was far from being soothed.

"I'm going to leave, and you're going to let me. Got it?" I stated firmly, taking a deep breath before closing my eyes and preparing myself to leave this house forever.

"Please don't make a scene," I added, releasing my grip on her body slightly. As I began to step away, Y/N turned around and kicked me with all the strength she had.

"Fuck!" I cried out, doubling over in pain and protecting myself with my hands. As I tried to recover, Y/N fled the room. I knew I had to follow her; there was no way I could escape without her knowing what happened.

"You fucking creep! You followed me!" Y/N yelled, her voice dripping with anger as she pointed a knife at me when I finally exited the room. ""You're a lowlife piece of shit! Get out of my house or I'll call the cops on your sorry ass…Noah."

I locked eyes with her, feeling a wave of shame wash over me as she spoke my name with complete disdain. How did she know it was me? My clothes were different and none of my tattoos were visible.

My body shook with pain and I hunched over, leaning on her door for support.

"Please, Y/N, don't call the cops," I begged desperately.

"Why shouldn't I call the cops?" she screamed back at me, tears streaming down her face. She reached for her phone and began to dial 9-1-1, causing my stomach to drop even further in fear. I couldn't get caught - I had too much at stake.

I pleaded once more, but Y/N pressed the button and I could hear the faint ringing of the operator on the other end. Panic set in and my hand instinctively reached for the gun tucked into my waistband. Y/N's face went pale as she noticed the weapon, her lips trembling in terror. I had never seen anyone so afraid before - not even the woman from our job weeks ago.

"Hang up," I managed to whisper through dry lips. "Y/N, hang up please."

But it was too late - Y/N had already spiralled into a panic attack, gasping for air. We sat there in silence until we heard loud knocks on the front door.

"This is LAPD!"

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, frantically thinking of a plan. Usually, if you call 9-1-1 and then don't answer their call back, they send someone to check on your location to make sure you're okay. But I didn't expect them to come this quickly.

Y/N looked between me and the door, wiping away smeared lipstick from her face. Do I hide? Do I surrender?

My gaze landed on her lips and the smeared lipstick. If only we had been making out... Wait a minute. If we were passionately kissing and she accidentally called 9-1-1, it would explain everything. I quickly removed my sweater and tank top to make it look like we had been getting intimate.

Please play along Y/N, please.

+++++

Y/N

I pulled away from Noah, trying to catch my breath as I noticed the lipstick smudged on his lips. His request was so outrageous that I couldn't help but scoff at him.

"Come answer the door with me and pretend we were just making out," he pleaded, his doe-like eyes pleading with mine. "I'll tell you everything about myself if you do this for me."

I hesitated for a moment, before nodding quickly and allowing Noah to take my hand and lead me down the stairs. He held onto my belt loop as we approached the door, opening it to reveal a uniformed man standing there.

"Hi officer?" Noah said in a confused tone, panting heavily as if we had just been in the middle of a passionate make-out session.

"Evening," the man replied, his eyes darting between us in concern.

Noah pulled me closer and wrapped his arm around me, while I played along by giving the officer a puzzled look and placing my hand on Noah's chest with false admiration.

"We received a call from this location and wanted to check in to make sure everything is alright," the officer explained, eyeing us both suspiciously. Noah must have sensed it, because he pulled me even closer and I rested my head against his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat. Despite everything that had happened between us, our bodies seemed to fit together perfectly, an undeniable chemistry between us.

The officer scanned my lips before turning to study Noah's face, analyzing our deception.

"Oh really? That's odd," Noah furrowed his brows and looked down at me. I chimed in, reaching into my pockets for my phone.

"I didn't call anyone," I said,"I must have butt-dialled while you were...pushing me against the wall," I whispered through gritted teeth, loud enough for the officer to hear.

Noah's lips curled into a sly smile and he even winked at the officer. "I was away on a trip for two weeks, you know how it is."

The officer coughed awkwardly and began to look away, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "Alright well, stay safe you two. Have a good night."

"We will," Noah gave him a breathy laugh.

I apologized to the officer as I pulled Noah away from the door and closed it behind us. Noah let out a breath of relief, his tense muscles relaxing.

I took a few steps back, still wary of him.

"Okay, now get your shit and go," I demanded, glaring at him. "I never want to see you again." I wiped my lips, trying to forget the feeling of his hands on me just minutes ago, his mark staining my body.

"Please, let me explain," Noah pleaded, holding out his hands and taking a step closer to me. I could see the genuine concern in his eyes and it made my walls start to crumble. But I couldn't let myself trust him again so easily, so I took another step back.

"Fine," I conceded with a sigh. "You have five minutes. And put your shirt on, it's weird that you're standing here half-naked."

I led the way into the living room and plopped down on the couch, motioning for him to join me when he came back down the stairs.

Noah sat as far away from me as possible, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. We sat in silence, both feeling a sense of deja vu after our earlier encounter in the park; this time was different though.

"So," Noah began, looking at the carpet.

"So," I echoed, watching him cautiously, "you didn’t strike me as a professional criminal."

"That's what makes me good at it, I suppose." A small laugh escaped Noah's lips before he stifled it. I rolled my eyes at him.

"I know you don't believe me, but I didn't follow you," Noah said, covering his face with his hands. "The odds are astronomical, Y/N. I genuinely have no idea how I ended up at your house instead of any other one in the neighbourhood."

"Then why did you choose this house?" I asked, raising an accusative eyebrow.

Noah shrugged, "I don't know. There's no method to it. I saw your light on and heard your cat, and chose it. That's all."

"Sure," I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest, "maybe one day you'll admit that you're actually a stalker."

"No," Noah shook his head, "are you even listening to me?"

He sat up straight and leaned over his knees, staring intensely at me. "I swear on anything- God, Satan, whoever you want- that I had no idea this was your house.

“Even over the dead bodies of my parents."

His eyes bore into mine as he spoke and I felt a lump form in my throat. The pain in his expression made my heart ache.

"You have dead parents too?" I asked quietly, the tension in the room dissipated, filling with a sense of knowing.

Noah licked his lips and furrowed his eyebrows. He snapped his gaze away from me and slumped back over his knees, staring at the floor.

"My mom died of cancer," he began, "and my dad couldn't handle it so he killed himself. I was only twelve years old, but luckily my best friends took me in. They're like brothers to me."

My mouth felt dry as I listened to him. It suddenly made sense why he didn't say sorry when I told him about my own parents' death in the park. He knew that apologies wouldn't change anything and sympathy would just feel like pity, especially in this situation.

"So why were you in my house in the first place?"

Noah avoided my gaze, clearly ashamed of his actions. "Stealing, larceny, thievery - whatever you want to call it. It's one of the easiest ways to make money on the streets besides dealing drugs."

"So you're a burglar," I said, nodding and forcing a smile. "You really know how to pick 'em, Y/N," I mumbled under my breath, finding some humour in the situation.

"I wouldn't be doing this if we didn't have to," Noah replied, sinking back into the couch with his tattooed neck on display. "We owe a lot of money to a dangerous man, and this is our only way to keep up with his demands."

"Who?" I asked, my curiosity piqued despite my attempt not to stare at the intricate snake design on his neck.

Noah closed his eyes. "I can't tell you for your safety."

I let out a dry laugh. "My safety was gone as soon as I offered you to sit on my couch."

"Touché," Noah chuckled. "But that's one thing I won't disclose."

"How long have you been...doing this?" I watched him closely as he turned his head.

"Long enough," he answered cryptically.

"How long, Noah? If that's even your real name."

He raised an eyebrow. "It is. Noah Sebastian, if you want to be specific. My friend Jolly always referred to it as "the grand fuck up," and it all started when I was fourteen. Since then, we've been paying off our debt every month.”

"And what exactly is 'the grand fuck up'?" I asked, noticing the letters on Noah's knuckles for the first time as he ran his thumb over them.

"It was my first job, and Jolly said I needed to do it to become a man and join the pact," Noah explained, his eyes fixated on the letters. "I stole an expensive car without knowing it had something valuable in it. The car belonged to a notorious criminal who caught us, giving us two choices: death or working for him. We chose to work off our debt and be free once it's paid off."

"Who is included in 'we'?" I inquired.

"My three friends and me," Noah replied with guilt evident in his voice. "I screwed us all over, and it's been seven years of nothing changing."

Noah closed his eyes, trying to hold back tears and the guilt that consumed him. My heart softened, wanting to comfort him and take away his pain.

"What does your tattoo say?" I asked, shifting the topic.

Noah looked at his fingers again, blinking rapidly. "Bad omens."

"Bad omens?" I repeated.

He moved closer to me and held out his hands for me to see. Without thinking, I took his hands in mine and studied the words etched onto his skin.

"An omen is a sign of things to come," Noah explained, watching my fingers trace over the letters. "But everything that comes our way seems to be bad."

"That's no way to live," I shook my head, turning sideways on the couch to face him.

"I've always lived that way," Noah shrugged, giving a small smile.

My heart ached at his words, reminding me of my former self stuck in a cycle of hopelessness and despair. A year ago, I would have said the same thing if someone had talked to me about possibilities and starting fresh. But I had worked hard to leave that behind and create a new life for myself. It was possible, but Noah was still trapped in his never-ending cycle, unable to see any glimmer of hope or change.

“I don’t even feel real anymore unless I’m in pain,” He confided, the agony evident in his voice catching me off guard. “It's not like I enjoy this cycle of suffering, but it's become my norm. I don't know how to function without it.”

Noah scoffed and looked away, trying to distract from his words. “Sometimes I wish I could just give up. Maybe then I'll see my dad again.”

My chest clenched at his words and I sat up on the couch, pulling my knees to my chest. “What keeps you going?” I prodded, intrigued by this mysterious man.

“My brothers. I have to fix things for them and make up for what I've done.”

“And after that? What then?” I pressed, completely invested in his enigmatic words.

Noah fell silent, his gaze fixed on the ground, lost in his thoughts. I wanted to know what was going through his mind, but we sat in silence once again, the only sound coming from the soft ticking of the living room clock. Juice had emerged from hiding and cautiously made his way into the living room. He let out a small meow and jumped onto the couch next to Noah. After sniffing him, he rubbed his head against Noah's sleeve.

“I don't know,” he finally whispered in a despondent tone, raising his hand to gently pet Juice's fur. The hair on my arms stood up as I watched Juice melt into Noah's touch - immediately accepting him and showing him love.

“You look like you could use a hug,” I surprised myself with the offer, standing up and opening my arms to invite Noah into my personal space.

He looked at me with surprise, asking "Huh?"

"Come here," I motioned for him to stand up, and after a moment of hesitation, he did.

Noah’s lanky figure approached me, and I wrapped my arms around him, pulling his body towards mine in a protective embrace. I stood on my tiptoes to place my head in the crook of his neck, squeezing his body against my chest. Noah’s breath hitched in his throat as he held himself stiffly before easing his body into our entwined limbs. His arms held me close, his head resting against my own. As his chest shook through his complacency, I breathed deeply, sighing into our hug. Noah joined me in a deep exhale, listening to our breaths as we held onto each other, exchanging memories through our hold.

I’m sorry you lost your parents. I’m sorry you’re stuck. I’m listening.

“You don’t have to carry it all yourself. Humans aren’t made to be solitary creatures.” Boldly, I held my hand against Noah’s head, capturing him and all of his wounds. As I ran my fingers through his hair, Noah’s shoulders began to shake.

Can one of us be saved?

I can't forgive you, but I can't look away I have to tell myself it's better, better this way It's killing me

Soft sobs left his lips, his body vibrating through his tears.

Don't wait for the light Just fall asleep, embrace the night

The man crumbling before me was not a terrible person. He was merely a lost soul, fastened to routine and never-ending affliction.

Perhaps, I can be another step to helping him find himself. He reminded me so much of my past; I couldn’t leave him.

Even if I got hurt in the process.

+++++

NOAH

Y/N's arms were a haven, comforting me with her gentle embrace. Her fingers ran through my hair, unearthing deep-seated memories as she held onto me.

It was hard to believe that just an hour ago, everything had been a chaotic mess. Yet here I was, crying in this woman's arms. I didn't deserve such kindness, especially after invading her privacy and trust like I did.

I hadn't opened up to anyone in a long time. My only family were Ruffilo, Folio, and Jolly; they were the only ones who saw my pain. But Y/N's touch had broken down all of my walls, causing me to completely shatter. It was baffling how someone I had only met less than 24 hours ago could have such power over me. Yet here I was, vulnerable and exposed in her embrace.

How could she be so kind and selfless? She listened and understood. Her parents were gone too. She knew the feelings of abandonment.

Keep telling myself that I was the victim You were the one that pulled away I've got a cold heart, this is the sad part I don't think I can change

But the difference was that I was corrupt. I was not the good guy; my presence was tainting her.

Can one of us be saved? I feel like I'm better, better in a grave Better in a grave Better in a grave

“What’s the next step from acquaintances?” she tried to lighten the mood, giving me a small laugh.

I pulled away, my body already infected with the remembrance of her touch against my limbs. I wiped my eyes, face reddening at the embarrassment. I can’t believe I just cried on some girl’s shoulder. She was no longer just some girl.

“I mean, I don’t know if we should even be considered friends. I broke into your house.” I scoffed, wiping my nose with my hoodie sleeve as I sniffed.

“What about acquaintance-squared?” Y/N said, “I think now that I know you’re not just Noah, we’ve upgraded.”

I laughed, “Level two friendly strangers?”

Y/N joined me, the sound that left her body angelic. Part of me wanted to listen to her melody forever.

I knew then that I was fucked. Her hooks snagged me this morning, but now they were embedded, scars bound to be permanent. There was no way I could just leave her as a forgotten memory as I had thought earlier.

She knew too much.

“Sit down. I’m going to make you something to eat.” Y/N said, smiling kindly. My phone began buzzing in my pocket; I knew it had to be one of the boys.

I immediately shook my head in protest, “No Y/N, I should go.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I don’t deserve your hospitality.” I pulled my phone out and checked the caller ID. It was Ruffilo. 32 missed texts.

Jolly: You alright?

Jolly: Almost done?

Jolly: It’s been almost two hours since I’ve heard anything.

Jolly: You should’ve been done within the first hour.

Jolly: Your location says you’re still there; where are you?

Jolly: Noah answer your fucking phone.

My anxiety must have been visible on my face when I saw the messages because Y/N noticed and asked, "Where do you live? Can I at least give you a ride home?"

I shook my head, "It's fine, I can walk."

But when Y/N checked the time and saw that it was three in the morning, she insisted, "Noah, it's not safe for you to walk alone at this hour."

I almost scoffed at her concern, but instead placed a hand on her shoulder and reassured her, "Y/N, I'll be okay."

She made a frustrated face and pouted her lips, which for some reason sent my heart racing.

"Noah," she marched towards the front door and grabbed her keys while slipping on cow-shaped slippers. I couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

"Let's go pretty boy."

"I'll walk," I said firmly, putting my phone back in my pocket.

Y/N furrowed her brows again and glared at me, causing butterflies to stir in my stomach. What is happening to me?

"You look cute when you're angry."

Y/N opened the door and pointed outside. "You think I'm cute when I'm angry? Then I'll be fucking gorgeous if you're not in my car in two seconds," she seethed.

I raised my hands in surrender and chuckled, "Okay, okay, I'm coming."

We squeezed into her small silver Chevy Spark and I joked about its size. "Could you have gotten a smaller car?"

She turned up the heat before fiddling with the music, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, I must say I didn't expect to have an over 6-foot-tall thief in my passenger seat."

I rolled my eyes, knowing she had a valid point. The guilt gnawed at me once again. Y/N pressed play and the song blared through the small speakers. She turned to me and asked for the address.

"If you know where the Marlborough Motel is, that's where we're headed."

Y/N's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she looked at me. "Wait, you actually live near there?" Her expression crumpled in sympathy when I nodded. But I refused to accept her pity. We lived in that rundown motel, but it was still better than nothing.

She drove out of the driveway and towards our destination while one of us listened to the song blasting through the car speakers, its lyrics piercing my ears.

You played the cards, you know I wanted to see Behind the curtain, always pulling the strings in my head

But now I think it's time to cut the ends I won't make the same mistake again

Once she dropped me off, I would leave her behind forever. I had to, for my sanity, and hers.

“I mean, housekeeping must be a blessing?” Y/N said gently, giving me a quaint smile.

“Yes, I enjoy the smell of cheap laundry detergent and a stranger filtering through my stuff.”

A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I gazed out the car window, taking in the rows of illuminated houses and streetlights as they passed by. Exhaustion weighed down my body, but I couldn't bring myself to close my eyes. Jolly was going to have a fit when I got home - especially now that I had dragged someone else into this mess and failed a job. Just another checkmark on the list of my screw-ups. And to top it off, I had nothing to show for all the trouble I went through.

But then my mind snapped back to reality as I remembered my backpack - the one with the gun inside. The one I had carelessly left behind at Y/N's house. Panic set in as I realized she would find it, along with all her prescription medications neatly stored inside. My heart raced at the thought of her finding those bottles.

My throat felt tight at the realization, but I swallowed the nerves, reminding myself that I’d never see her again after today. I’ll forget about her, and this. I won’t need to see her disappointment.

You got what you deserved And that was me You saw me at my worst You saw the worst in me

We arrived at the motel and I sighed, realizing the light was still on. No doubt the boys were still up waiting for me. Y/N and I sat quietly for a moment before she turned to look at me.

“Well, level two friendly stranger.” Y/N coughed, breaking the awkward silence in the cramped vehicle. I looked at her and forced a smile. She smiled back, but my heart ached with the realization that this would be our goodbye. I studied every inch of her face, trying to imprint her features into my memory. I knew I couldn't face her again after this.

"Thanks for this wild adventure," she chuckled. "It was definitely a confusing situation, but I'm glad you were my first criminal experience."

Unsure of how to respond, I attempted to make a joke. "And thank you for being my favourite victim."

My own words stung as they reminded me of my past felonies, but I supposed she truly was my favourite victim. If it wasn't too messed up to say something like that.

"Will I see you for your usual coffee?" She asked, hope seeping through her eyes. How could she want to see me again?

"Yeah," I replied with a forced laugh, lying through each breath. "See you then."

I stepped out of the car and turned to wave before opening the door to the motel room. My heart ached as Y/N drove away.

Goodbye.

Tell me that I'm wrong Tell me that I'm wrong

Chapter four

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