#you expect me to survive a week with that little crumb?

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER THIRTEEN ━━ Swimming in Sin

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 6.6K

☆ ━ warnings: homophobia, religious themes, mentions of conversation therapy, emotional & physical abuse (it’s not much but if you’re uncomfortable reading it, don’t)

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: imma just leave this here

IT’S MONDAY now, and Dani sits in the passenger seat of Paige’s car, the engine off but the faint hum of life around them in the parking lot loud enough to feel present. Students mill about the edges of the lot, but the two of them are hidden away in Paige’s old car. The smell of Paige’s half-eaten sandwich lingers between them, mingling with the faint scent of Dani’s lavender hand lotion.

Paige slouches dramatically in the driver’s seat, her legs stretched out so far her sneakered feet almost hit the pedals. Her sandwich sits abandoned in her lap, crumbs dotting the fabric of her sweatpants, and her face is twisted into a scowl.

“I mean, two and a half weeks,” Paige groans, leaning her head back against the seat. “It’s so dumb. No leaving the house, no seeing any of my friends, no hanging out with you. What am I, bro, twelve?”

Dani picks at the edges of the granola bar in her hand, peeling back the wrapper bit by bit. She keeps her voice light as she says, “What’d you think was gonna happen? He just lets you off the hook? You threw a party, Paige—and never even tried to get permission. And you were completely wasted.”

Paige rolls her eyes so hard Dani thinks she might actually sprain something. “It’s not like I killed someone,” she mutters. “And it’s not like I wasn’t gonna clean up after. Besides, you were there to take care of me. He should’ve been thanking you, not grounding me.”

Dani shakes her head, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth despite herself. “I don’t think that’s how he sees it.”

“Well, he’s being dramatic,” Paige insists, sitting up now, her hands gesturing wildly as she speaks. “Two and a half weeks of this? How am I supposed to not hang out with you for that long? I get separation anxiety!”

Dani shrugs, fighting a smile at the last sentence, though the thought tugs at her too. She’s upset about it, of course she is, but she’d seen this coming. In fact, she’d half-expected Bob to ban her from their house altogether after Saturday. Two weeks of grounding, in the grand scheme of things, doesn’t seem so bad.

“You’ll survive,” Dani says, trying to sound casual even though she knows Paige won’t let it drop that easily. “Besides, it’s only two weeks. And we can still hang out at lunch and in Lit every day. And we can FaceTime whenever you want.”

Paige groans dramatically, as if the suggestion alone is an insult. “But it’s not the same,” she whines, slumping back against the seat again. “I can’t cuddle you over FaceTime, Dani. Or kiss you.” She leans over suddenly, draping herself across the center console so that her head lands against Dani’s shoulder. Dani stiffens for a moment, glancing out the window to make sure no one’s looking, before relaxing.

“It’s not the same,” Paige repeats, her voice muffled against Dani’s jacket.

Dani sighs, tilting her head down to rest her cheek against the top of Paige’s head. She feels the familiar weight of her girlfriend pressing against her, grounding her, even as Paige continues to pout. “I know it’s not the same,” Dani says softly.

She shifts, her free hand moving to tilt Paige’s face up toward hers. Paige’s blue eyes, always so clear and striking, look impossibly—and dramatically—sad now, and it tugs at something deep in Dani’s chest. She leans in, pressing a light kiss to Paige’s lips. It’s quick, barely more than a brush, but it’s enough to feel the way Paige melts against her.

When Dani pulls back, Paige lets out a little whine, her lips still parted as though she’s waiting for more. Dani grins despite herself, resting her forehead against Paige’s for a moment. “Only two weeks,” she murmurs.

“Two weeks too long,” Paige mutters, her eyes closing as she leans into Dani’s touch.

Dani chuckles softly, brushing a stray strand of hair out of Paige’s face. “You’ll survive,” she repeats, though this time it feels more like a promise than a statement.

THE DRIVEWAY is quiet as Dani parks, the hum of the engine cutting off abruptly and leaving her in stillness. She exhales, her breath visible in the icy Minnesota night air, and slouches forward for a moment, forehead pressed against the steering wheel. The gymnastics meet had been a long one—nearly three hours of standing, crouching, and angling for the perfect shots. Her back aches, her legs are sore, and all she wants is to crawl into bed and disappear under her blankets.

But there’s homework waiting, a mountain of it she’s been putting off. AP Calculus, a Lit essay, and some editing work for the yearbook photos she’d taken tonight. Dani groans quietly to herself, leaning back in her seat before finally mustering the energy to grab her photography bag from the passenger seat.

The cold hits her immediately as she steps out of the car, sharp and unforgiving, slicing through her sweatshirt and sinking into her skin. She hurries up the walkway, her sneakers crunching against the thin layer of frost on the ground. Her fingers fumble with the keys, and she’s relieved when the door finally swings open, the familiar warmth of home enveloping her.

Dani kicks off her shoes, letting them fall in a heap by the door, and shrugs off her coat, tossing it onto the rack. Her keys find their place on the hook by the wall, and she drops her photography bag by the entryway, too tired to care about putting it away properly. Her stomach grumbles softly as she pads toward the kitchen, craving something quick and easy before she tackles the rest of her night.

But the second she steps into the kitchen, she freezes.

Her dad is sitting at the table, his hands clasped in front of him, his eyes already locked on hers.

The look he gives her is unyielding, sharp enough to cut through the fog of her exhaustion. His mouth is set in a firm line, his jaw tight, and there’s a weight to his gaze that makes Dani’s stomach twist.

She knows.

She immediately knows.

She doesn’t need him to say anything. She doesn’t need an explanation. She can feel it in the air between them, heavy and suffocating.

He knows about her and Paige.

Dani’s body goes cold. It’s not just the March air still clinging to her from outside, nor the exhaustion weighing her limbs from the long day. This is something else entirely—something that feels like dread pooling in the pit of her stomach, clawing its way up her throat.

She forces herself to meet her dad’s eyes, but it’s like staring into a storm—chaos barely contained behind the sharp lines of his face, his clenched jaw, his rigid posture. He’s keeping his tone measured, his voice low, but somehow that makes it worse. Scarier, almost, than if he were yelling at her.

When he gestures to the chair across from him and says, “I think we should have a talk,” her legs nearly buckle.

Her hands are trembling as she pulls out the chair and sinks into it. She sits on the edge of the seat, stiff and awkward, her fingers finding their way to the edge of the table to anchor herself. It doesn’t feel real. It can’t be real. This isn’t happening—not here, not now. But the look on his face tells her otherwise.

It feels like an out-of-body experience, that the thing she’s feared the worst over the past few months is finally coming true.

“I was talking to Beau’s father earlier today,” Dani’s father begins, his voice cool and detached. “You know—your apparent boyfriend.”

The way he spits the word out makes Dani flinch, her nails digging into the underside of the table. Her heart pounds so loudly she’s sure he can hear it. She doesn’t know what to say, so she says nothing.

“I hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to him since the fall,” he continues. “You know, since he switched companies and we no longer worked together. But today, he told me some very… interesting things.”

His eyes are sharp as they pin her in place, his words deliberate. “Do you want to know what they are?”

Dani can’t respond. Her throat is dry, her chest tight, and the room feels like it’s closing in on her. She can only stare at the table, her fingers now nervously picking at her nails beneath it.

When she doesn’t answer, he presses, his voice dropping to something sharper. “Except, I think you already know what they are, Danielle. So, do you want to tell me yourself?”

Dani’s breath catches. Every instinct tells her to run, to get up and leave before this gets worse, but her body is frozen, glued to the chair. Her father is watching her so intently, waiting for her to break, and she doesn’t know how much longer she can hold it together.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she swallows the lump in her throat and forces herself to speak. Her voice is small, barely audible. “Beau and I broke up.”

The admission feels like a death sentence, but she can’t take it back now.

Her dad’s laugh is cold, devoid of any humor, and it makes her stomach churn. “Yeah, you did,” he says, his tone dripping with disdain. “In November, apparently. Over four fucking months ago, Danielle!”

He slams his fist against the table, the sound reverberating through the room like a gunshot. Dani jumps, her pulse skyrocketing, and the first sting of tears pricks at her eyes.

“I just…” she begins, her voice breaking, “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Disappoint me?” he repeats, his laughter sharper this time, almost unhinged. “Oh, we haven’t even scratched the surface on that.”

Dani can’t bring herself to look at him anymore. She stares at her lap, blinking back tears, wishing she could disappear.

“You want to know the most interesting thing Mr. Hudson told me today?” he says, his voice cutting through the silence.

Dani doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“He told me that Beau said you broke up with him for a girl.”

The words hang in the air, thick and suffocating. He lets them settle, lets them twist like a knife in her chest before he repeats himself, his voice dripping with disgust.

“A girl.”

Paige.

Dani’s lungs constrict as her dad’s words pile onto her like stones, each one heavier than the last. Her heart pounds so loudly in her ears she can barely hear him, but the venom in his voice is unmistakable.

“I didn’t want to believe him. Not even a little bit,” he says, his voice trembling now, teetering on the edge of something raw. He shakes his head, as if trying to erase the very idea from his mind. “I couldn’t help but think to myself that no, my little girl wouldn’t do this—not again. I thought you’d learned your lesson, gotten past these types of things.”

Her stomach twists violently at the phrase these types of things, a wave of shame and dread crashing over her. She can’t meet his eyes anymore. She focuses on a crack in the table, blinking furiously to keep her vision clear. But it doesn’t work. A tear slips down her cheek, then another. She wipes at them quickly, desperate to hide any sign of weakness.

“I thought that maybe the Hudson boy made this up,” he continues, his tone brittle, almost pleading. “To save face, you know? To make himself feel better about the breakup. I refused to believe it because I’ve been so proud of you, Danielle. So proud of all the progress you’ve made.”

His voice breaks on the last word, and it’s like a knife twisting in her gut. She feels the weight of his disappointment like an iron shackle around her neck, dragging her down.

And then he drops the pretense of restraint entirely. “But I came home,” he says, his voice growing sharper, harder. “I needed to figure it out for myself. So I went up to your bedroom and looked around. And sure enough, Beau Hudson was telling the truth. You did leave him for a girl. The same girl you nearly ruined your life for last summer!”

Dani’s breath hitches, panic clawing at her chest as he pulls items off the chair beside him, tossing them onto the table like damning evidence in a courtroom.

A Hopkins basketball sweatshirt. Paige’s sweatshirt. He must’ve found it in her closet.

The printed photo from last week’s state championship, where Paige’s mom had insisted on taking a picture of the two of them. In it, Dani and Paige are standing close, too close, their smiles wide and happy, the kind that only come from people who are comfortable in each other’s orbit. Their shoulders are pressed together, and Paige’s hand is wrapped around Dani’s waist.

A folded note with the initials PB scribbled on the front, the one Paige had slipped into her photography bag last week after practice.

More things follow: a pressed flower Paige had given her after a walk in the park, a ticket stub from the movie they’d gone to see together last month, a journal entry about Paige that Dani had foolishly written—her father must’ve ripped the page from the notebook. It’s all so mundane, these little artifacts of their relationship, but to her dad, they’re something else entirely.

All the air seems to leave Dani’s body as she stares at the pile. There’s no way out of this. None. He’s found everything.

Her dad begins pacing, his hand dragging down his face as his breathing grows heavier. His movements are frantic now, like he’s trying to physically outrun his own fury. He seems to be losing himself, his voice starting to rise, too.

“I thought we were past all of this!” he shouts, octaves echoing off the walls. “I thought you’d learned! I thought you’d grown! But here we are, right back at square one, and you’re still the same little sinner, getting caught up in all this gay bullshit again. It’s disgusting, Danielle.”

The words hit her like a slap to the face. She feels her cheeks burn, but it’s not from anger. It’s from humiliation, from the sheer weight of hearing him say the words out loud, like her existence is something filthy, something shameful.

Her breathing quickens, shallow and erratic, as he barrels on.

“I sent you to camp!” he yells, gesturing wildly as if the memory of it alone should be enough to set her straight. Truthfully, it might. “They told me they fixed you. They told me you got better, that you understood the weight of your actions, the power of God.” He pauses, running both hands through his hair, his eyes wide and wild. “I mean, Jesus Christ, Dani, I’m really gonna have to send you back there. Do you know how fucking embarrassing that is for you? That you’re gonna have to be sent back for a round two because you couldn’t get it through your thick fucking skull the first time?”

“No,” Dani whispers, her voice barely audible over the sound of her pulse roaring in her ears.

Her dad doesn’t hear her—or doesn’t care.

“I sacrificed so much to send you there!” he continues, his voice rising again. “And for what? For you to come back and make a mockery of this family all over again?”

“Please, no,” Dani says again, louder this time, but her voice wavers and cracks.

She can feel herself spiraling. Her hands shake uncontrollably as she grips the edge of the chair, her knuckles white. She can’t go back to camp. She can’t.

The memory of it flashes in her mind—cold, sterile rooms; endless hours of lectures about sin and shame; the suffocating, unrelenting pressure to repent for something she doesn’t even think is wrong. The thought of being trapped there again, of losing herself completely this time, is unbearable.

Dani feels herself sinking, her father’s tirade muffling into a dull roar as the panic grips her fully. Her breaths are shallow, too quick, and the edges of her vision start to darken. She clutches at the back of the chair, trying to steady herself, but the weight of his words is unbearable.

Not again. I can’t go back.

But his voice cuts through her spiraling thoughts like a blade. “Do you hear me, Danielle?” he shouts, slamming a hand onto the counter. “You’re going back. I don’t care what it takes. You need to fucking learn the severity of the sins you’ve been swimming in! I’ll send you on the next flight if I have to!”

The words snap something in her, a thread pulled too tight finally breaking. Her mind drags her back, unwillingly, to that first day at camp.

JUNE 2019

The air inside Mrs. Keating’s office is thick and stifling, a mix of lavender and cleaning solution that seems calculated to force calm. Dani sits in the chair across from her assigned counselor, her shoulders curled inward and her hands clenched tightly in her lap. She doesn’t meet Mrs. Keating’s eyes, instead keeping her gaze fixed on the wall behind her.

Mrs. Keating looks calm, unnervingly so. She’s an older woman, her hair pinned back into a severe bun, her glasses perched neatly on her nose. There’s nothing about her that invites warmth or softness.

She’s quiet for a moment, studying Dani like she’s some kind of puzzle to be solved. “Do you know why you’re here, Danielle?” she asks finally, her voice calm and deliberate.

Dani shrugs, her movements small and tense. “Not sure,” she says, her tone clipped.

Mrs. Keating tilts her head slightly, like she’s trying to peer inside Dani’s mind. “You’re here because your actions have led you down a path of sin. A path that separates you from your family, from your faith, and from God.”

The words sit heavily in the room, and Dani shifts uncomfortably in her chair. Her pulse is steady but loud in her ears, and she can feel the way her body tightens at the mention of God. It’s always God with them. Like He’s some weapon to wield against her, not some presence she’s ever known to feel safe or loved by.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Dani says after a long pause. Her voice is soft, almost apologetic, but there’s a firmness beneath it.

Mrs. Keating nods slowly, as though she expected the answer. “You believe that because the enemy—the Devil—has planted lies in your heart, Danielle. Lies that make what you’ve done feel natural, even good. But deep down, you know that it’s not. That’s why you feel guilt, isn’t it?”

Dani swallows hard. She doesn’t feel guilt—not about Paige, anyway. There’s guilt about other things, sure. About being sent here. About what it’s doing to her dad, about how she’s made everything so messy and complicated. But not about Paige.

Still, the way Mrs. Keating speaks gets under her skin. It’s calm, calculated. Like she’s dissecting Dani piece by piece and cataloging her flaws for some case study. Dani hates it. It makes her feel small. Exposed.

“I don’t feel guilty,” Dani says, but the words come out quieter than she intended. She’s not sure she even believes them.

“Of course you do,” Mrs. Keating counters smoothly, leaning forward slightly. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here. Your father wouldn’t have sent you.”

That makes Dani flinch. Her father. The sharp sting of his disappointment still weighs heavily on her chest, pressing down in a way she can’t escape. His face when he’d told her she was going to camp had been full of anger, yes, but there had been something worse beneath it—something that looked like shame.

He hadn’t even looked at her when he dropped her off.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Dani mutters, her voice barely above a whisper.

“We’re going to talk about it, Danielle,” Mrs. Keating says, her tone firm but still devoid of emotion. “Because this is the first step. You have to face the reality of your actions if you’re ever going to heal.”

Dani’s hands tighten in her lap, her nails digging into her palms. “There’s nothing to heal from,” she says, more forcefully this time before repeating, “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Mrs. Keating doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, she sits back in her chair, her sharp eyes fixed on Dani like she’s waiting for something. Dani shifts under the weight of her gaze, but she doesn’t break the silence.

Finally, Mrs. Keating speaks. “Tell me about the girl.”

Dani’s chest tightens. She doesn’t look up.

“The one your father mentioned,” Mrs. Keating presses. “The one who led you astray.”

“She didn’t lead me astray,” Dani protests quickly, the words tumbling out before she can stop them.

Mrs. Keating doesn’t react to the outburst. “So you do feel something for her, then.”

Dani freezes, her stomach twisting into knots. She doesn’t know how to navigate this, doesn’t know what answer won’t be used against her later.

After a moment, she settles for, “There’s nothing wrong with me. Nothing. Paige isn’t wrong. What we had isn’t wrong.” Her tone is slightly more argumentative, more confrontational than usual. But she’s been sent to this unfamiliar, scary fucking place so she supposes she has a right to.

“What you had,” Mrs. Keating repeats, leaning forward slightly. “You speak as though it’s in the past. Is that because you already know it cannot last? That it is not sustainable?”

Dani’s jaw tightens, her teeth grinding together. She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t trust herself to speak without snapping. She can feel her nails biting into her skin, but the sharp pain is grounding. It keeps her from falling apart completely.

Mrs. Keating takes the silence as an opening. “This is a safe space, Danielle. You can be honest here. Talk to me.”

Dani doesn’t talk to her. She doesn’t talk at all. She looks away, her gaze zeroing in on a jagged pattern on the wood flooring, eyes wide and unblinking. Her eyes burn, but she won’t let Keating see her cry. She won’t give her that satisfaction. She refuses.

Eventually, Mrs. Keating stands, the movement slow and deliberate. She walks around the desk and stops in front of Dani, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Dani stiffens at the contact, trying to shrug the hand off, but Mrs. Keating’s grip is firm. It doesn’t hurt, not quite, but it feels invasive.

“You have a lot to learn here, Danielle Callan,” Mrs. Keating says quietly, her voice unshakable. “But that’s why you’re here. To learn. And you will.”

THE MEMORY lingers in Dani’s mind like a weight she can’t shake, thick and suffocating. Mrs. Keating’s calm voice echoes in her head, the grip on her shoulder a phantom pressure she swears she can still feel. She shakes her head slightly, trying to dislodge the thought, but it refuses to leave.

She can’t do it.

She can’t do it again.

Her dad’s voice cuts through her thoughts, sharp and furious. He’s been yelling for what feels like forever, pacing the length of the living room with heavy, deliberate steps. Every word he spits out feels like a lash against her skin, each syllable steeped in anger, in disbelief, in the kind of disappointment that makes Dani feel impossibly small.

“How could you do this to us again?” he barks, throwing his arms up. “After everything we went through, after everything you went through—this is how you repay us? By… by flaunting it like this? You didn’t even try to hide it this time, Danielle!”

Dani winces at his words, each one sinking into her chest like a stone. She stays seated on the hard chair, her hands balling into fists on her thighs. Her fingernails bite into her palms, the sharp sting grounding her, keeping her from unraveling completely.

He stops pacing suddenly, turning to face her with his hands on his hips. His eyes burn with conviction, his expression a mixture of frustration and bewilderment. “What do you have to say for yourself?” he demands.

Dani’s breath catches in her throat. She can’t hold his gaze for long, can’t stand the way he’s looking at her, like she’s some broken thing he can’t figure out how to fix. Her eyes drop to her lap, and she shifts uncomfortably in the chair.

Her throat feels tight, her eyes burning with the threat of tears she refuses to let fall. She swallows hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t—I…” she starts, trying to force the words out. “I can’t be fixed, Dad. This isn’t something that’s fixable.”

The silence that follows is heavy, almost unbearable. She risks a glance at him, but his face is unreadable now, his mouth a firm line, his eyes locked on her.

So she keeps going, her voice trembling but steady enough to push through. “I didn’t choose to like other girls—like Paige—like that. It just… happened. I was born like this. I’ve had these thoughts since I was little. I can’t be fixed, can’t be changed. The—the ‘gay’ stuff you’re talking about can’t just be prayed away.”

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, Dani thinks maybe, just maybe, he’s heard her. But then he straightens, his expression hardening, and he shakes his head. “You didn’t try hard enough,” he says firmly, his voice like steel. “You weren’t at camp long enough.”

The words ignite something in Dani, something sharp and bitter and raw. Her head snaps up, and for the first time, she meets his gaze head-on, her eyes flashing. Her voice is louder now, trembling with emotion she can’t contain.

“I did try!” she says, standing up as the chair scrapes against the wooden floor. “I tried so hard! I didn’t talk to Paige for months; I completely pushed her away. I dated Beau like you wanted me to. I did everything that was supposed to be right! And I was miserable for every second of it!”

Her voice cracks, and she feels the tears spill over now, hot and relentless. She swipes at them angrily but keeps going, because she has to. Because if she doesn’t, she might never say it again.

“I wasn’t happy that way!” she cries, her voice breaking with the weight of it all. “Can’t you just let me be happy, Dad?”

The tears come harder now, blurring her vision as she stares at him, her chest heaving with every breath. She’s willing him to understand, willing him to hear her, because all she wants—all she wants—is to be happy.

But the silence stretches on, suffocating, and Dani’s heart feels like it’s breaking all over again.

Dani’s dad stares at her, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as if he’s physically restraining himself from exploding again. His gaze feels like it’s drilling into her, searching for something, as if the right words might pull her back into the version of herself he’s convinced she’s lost.

Dani meets his eyes, even though everything in her screams to look away. They’re both standing now, face to face, close enough that she can see the tight lines of his jaw, the furrow between his brows that only deepens the longer he looks at her.

For a moment, she thinks maybe he’s going to soften, maybe he’ll finally hear her. But then his face hardens all over again, and his voice comes out sharp, slicing through the fragile silence.

“This is a sin,” he snaps, the words like venom on his tongue. “You think you know better than God? You think this is how He made you?” He throws up his hands, his voice rising with every word. “No, Danielle, you were not born this way. You were fine until… until her.”

Dani’s stomach drops. She doesn’t have to ask who he means.

He doesn’t stop. “It’s that Bueckers girl! She did this to you—she’s the one who ruined you!”

“No, she wasn’t!” Dani yells, her voice breaking halfway through. Her hands shake at her sides as she takes a step closer, her eyes wide and pleading. “Dad, no! Everything she did, I did too! There was no… no influence, no manipulation! I’m telling you, this isn’t something you or anyone else can fix!”

But he’s already shaking his head furiously, his expression twisting into something cruel. “It can be fixed!” he shouts back, his voice booming in the small space. “I refuse to watch you go to hell over this! I refuse, do you hear me? You’re gonna go back to that camp, and they’re gonna help you, and you’re gonna stay long enough this time to be saved, I swear it!”

Dani feels like the floor is falling out from under her. “I’m not going back there!” she protests, her voice cracking with desperation. She thinks her nails might be digging so harsh into her that it’ll draw blood. She doesn’t care.

“Oh, yes, you will!” he yells back, his eyes flashing with a fire she’s never seen before.

“You can’t make me!” she throws back, her voice raw.

For all his negative words directed at her, all the screaming and yelling, all the accusations—there’s always been something that’s held him back from ever going past using his words. He’s never dared lay a hand on his daughter. But whatever that something was that stopped him has clearly been thrown out the window.

It’s so fast she almost doesn’t process it. His hand comes down, hard, across her face. The sound of the slap reverberates in the room, sharp and deafening, cutting through the air like a whip.

Her head jerks to the side from the force of it, her cheek immediately stinging, a fiery burn spreading across her skin. For a second, she can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but stand there, frozen.

Her hand comes up slowly, almost instinctively, to press against the spot where he struck her. Her palm is shaking as it touches her face, as if to confirm the reality of what just happened.

She stares at him, wide-eyed, her vision blurring with tears she refuses to let fall. There’s something unfamiliar in his eyes now, a look she’s never seen before, and it chills her to her core.

Disbelief crashes over her like a wave, drowning out everything else. She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just stands there, her heart pounding in her ears, the sting on her cheek the only thing grounding her in the moment.

For a moment, Dani stands frozen, her mind struggling to catch up with her body. Her breath is shallow and ragged, her chest heaving like she’s run a marathon. Some people freeze in fear, others run. Fight or flight—it’s instinctual. And Dani has always been the kind to freeze up.

But the fear in her now is different, deeper, and it sinks into her chest like a weight she can’t dislodge. It’s not the kind of fear that paralyzes—it’s the kind that propels. She can’t stay here. Not with him like this. Not when she doesn’t know what he’ll do next.

Her gaze darts to the table, where her phone lies just within reach, and she finally forces her limbs into action. Her hand trembles as she lunges for it, but before her fingers can graze the sleek surface, her dad’s hand intercepts her.

“Dad—wait—”

Her words barely leave her mouth before he wrenches the phone away. She watches, helpless, as he hurls it across the kitchen with a furious motion. The phone hits the tile floor with a sickening crack, the sound cutting through her like a blade. Bits of glass scatter, catching the light, and the air feels heavier, oppressive, as if the walls themselves are closing in.

Dani lets out a strangled sob, the sound escaping her throat without permission. She takes a step back, and then another, her hands coming up instinctively to shield herself. Her back bumps against the edge of the counter, and she feels trapped, like an animal cornered by its predator.

Her father’s voice cuts through the silence, sharp and commanding. “Do you hear me, Danielle?”

His tone isn’t loud anymore, but it’s worse that way. The quiet intensity of it crawls under her skin and wraps around her chest like a vice. She can’t look at him. She’s too scared of what she might see. Instead, her eyes dart toward the shattered remnants of her phone, then back to the floor, her body trembling.

“Dad, please,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. Her throat feels raw, her words choked by the tears she’s holding back. “You’re scaring me. Please, just—just stop.”

But he doesn’t stop. He moves closer, his footsteps deliberate, until he’s towering over her. Dani flinches as his hands reach out, but he doesn’t hit her again. Instead, his fingers clamp down on her shoulders, firm and unyielding.

“You’re going back tomorrow,” he says, his face mere inches from hers. His voice is calm now, too calm, but every syllable lands like a blow. “You’re going back. And you’re staying there until they fix you.”

Dani tries to shake her head, tries to move away from his grip, but he holds her in place. Her tears spill freely now, hot trails streaking down her cheeks.

“I can’t,” she chokes out, her voice cracking. “I can’t go back there. You don’t understand. I can’t do it again.”

“You don’t have a choice,” he snaps, his grip tightening. “Go upstairs. Pack your things.”

His words slam into her like a physical force, and she feels herself crumbling beneath the weight of them. She’s trembling, her knees weak, but she doesn’t move.

“Dad, I—”

“No.” His voice is steel. “Do you hear me, Danielle? Do what I said. Now.”

The intensity in his eyes pierces through her, and for a moment, all she can do is stare back at him, tears blurring her vision. She feels so small, so powerless, her body shrinking under the weight of his anger. The room is suffocating, the air thick and unrelenting.

When she finally finds her voice again, it comes out soft and broken. “I don’t want to go back.”

Her father doesn’t answer. He just stares at her, his expression set, his hands still gripping her shoulders as if holding her in place. The silence stretches between them, heavy and unyielding, and Dani feels herself breaking under it.

Dani doesn’t think; she just moves. Her father’s grip isn’t as strong as his words, and she twists out of it with a force she didn’t know she had. Her pulse pounds in her ears as she spots the keys hanging on the small hook by the door. They’re so close—just a couple of feet away.

She can make it. She has to make it.

Her body acts before her mind can catch up, surging forward. Her dad’s hands grab at her, but she slips free, adrenaline pushing her faster than his reaction time. Her fingers curl around the cool metal of her car keys, and she yanks the front door open in one motion. The air outside is cold and sharp, but she barely notices as she sprints out onto the porch and down the driveway, her socks sliding slightly on the concrete.

“Dani!” her father’s voice bellows behind her, furious and disbelieving.

She doesn’t stop. She can’t. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, and the ache in her chest is overwhelming, but her body doesn’t let her pause. The car is right there.

She reaches it just as he does, her hands fumbling to open the door. Her father’s voice is louder now, closer, almost on top of her. “Danielle! Stop this right now!”

But she doesn’t stop. She slides into the driver’s seat, slams the door shut, and locks it in one fluid motion. Her hands are shaking so violently she can barely grip the steering wheel, but she manages to press the ignition button.

Her dad is at the window now, his face red and furious, his voice muffled but still terrifyingly clear through the glass. “This is my car!” he yells, banging on the window. “I pay for it! Get out right now!”

Dani can’t look at him. She keeps her eyes straight ahead, her vision blurred with tears. Her whole body is trembling, her hands slipping on the wheel as she shifts into reverse.

“Danielle!” His fist slams against the glass again, making her jump, but she doesn’t let it stop her.

The car jerks as she pulls out of the driveway too fast, the tires screeching slightly against the pavement. She doesn’t care. Her dad’s voice fades into the background as she speeds down the street, her hands gripping the wheel so tightly her knuckles turn white.

She doesn’t look back. Not at him, not at the house, not at the neighborhood she’s known her entire life.

Her chest feels like it’s caving in, her breath coming in shallow bursts. She’s crying so hard she can barely see, her tears mixing with the streaks of rain on the windshield. Everything feels blurry, distorted, like she’s underwater and the world is pressing in on all sides.

Her mind races as fast as the car. The words he said replay over and over, looping endlessly until they feel burned into her brain. You’re going back. You need to be fixed. I refuse to watch you go to hell.

Her dad’s voice has always been loud, always sharp, but this… this was different. Because for the first time in her life, Dani was scared of him. Truly, bone-deep scared. Not just of what he might have said to her, but what he might have done to her.

The thought of going back to camp makes her stomach churn violently. She can still hear the echo of Mrs. Keating’s voice in her head, those sickly sweet tones that masked something far darker. She can feel the weight of the prayers, the way they crushed her under their expectations, as if forcing her into a mold she could never fit.

I can’t go back there, she thinks, the words looping through her head like a desperate mantra. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.

Her fingers tighten on the wheel, and she forces herself to focus on the road in front of her, though she has no idea where she’s going. The streets blur together, familiar landmarks passing by unnoticed. In the back of her mind, she knows she should have a plan, but right now, all she can do is drive.

In an ideal world, she’d go to Paige’s. Paige would know what to do. Paige always knows what to do. But Dani can’t. Paige’s house is too close, just one door down. Her dad would’ve followed her there in a heartbeat, and Paige is already in trouble enough as it is.

She lets out a shaky sob, her shoulders heaving as she turns onto a random street. The car feels too big and too small all at once, the silence inside it deafening. She’s not even sure how far she’s gone, but it doesn’t matter. The tears don’t stop.

Her hands are shaking so badly that she has to pull over, the car screeching to a halt on the side of a dimly lit road. She sits there, gripping the wheel as though it’s the only thing tethering her to reality, her body trembling with the force of her sobs.

Dani feels lost—nowhere to go, nothing in front of her.

[what-do-you-mean-theyre-evil]

NAH, 'CAUSE I DIDN'T HAVE ENOUGH !!!!

[nethhiri]

Kid and killer with someone who is a literal mouse/rat ? ate the mouse zoan fruit unknowingly thinking I’d be a cooler ability

I hope you don't mind if I turned this into a little drabble bc it inspired me. It was such a cute idea.

(Okay this got out of hand... I am incapable of telling a succinct story)

The Only Free Cheese Is in the Mousetrap

You had to admit, when you first ate the Mouse-Mouse fruit, you thought it was going to be something a little bit cooler. Mice were small and lame. No one would blink twice at a silly little mouse. As it turned out, that was your advantage.

You had been trying to hitch a ride through the Grand Line and you had been successful for the most part, hiding in the storage of random ships, eating whatever you could find. You didn't need much as an innocent little mouse. This ship, however, had no food in storage. There were only weapons and prisoners. If you got caught on this ship, the consequences would surely be dire.

The mistake was made when you decided to venture around the ship in search of food. You happened to find yourself in the workshop of the notorious K.I.D., Eustass 'Captain' Kid that is. Unfortunately you were a very unique, bright white mouse. It didn't leave you much in the way of camouflage, unless there was a bowl of flour somewhere. Even more unfortunate was that Kid was a very observant man and spotted you instantly.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here? A wee mouse?" Kid crouched in front of you.

You had been so sure he was going to crush you under his foot.

"Yer not even scared, eh?"

In truth, you were terrified, in the third, secret state of fight or flight: freeze.

"Wait here, mousey."

Kid returned to his bench, where there was a mostly empty plate, save for some crumbs. He collected them in his hands and returned to the interesting white mouse, sprinkling them on the floor.

"Here ya go."

He returned to his work, glancing up at you every so often to watch you nibble on the crumbs.

The next evening, you returned. He wasn't going to squish you and he even fed you. If he continued, you could just do this and survive until the next stop in port. You were pleasantly surprised to find that he had already set out some cubes of cheese.

"There ya go, mousey. I got the good stuff from Killer's stash."

That made your tiny mouse ears flick forward. So there's better food somewhere on the ship.

It turned out, you didn't have to search for it. Kid brought it to you. Over the next evenings, Kid left grapes, cheese, bread, bananas, and a bunch of other little tidbits. After about a week, there was a tiny metal table and chair set out with the food on top. You played along and sat in the chair for him, which mad him extremely happy. He moved it slightly closer to his bench every night until it was on the top of his desk. If someone had told you that you would be eating cubes of cheese, sitting on the desk of Eustass 'Captain' Kid, you would have laughed in their faces, but here you were doing just that.

This evolved even further until you were being carried around in a pocket on the inside of his coat. It was a little warm, but it offered protection. Every so often, he would sneak a crumb into the pocket for you.

"Boss, why are you feeding your coat?" Heat had been watching him put crumbs in his pocket over the course of dinner.

"No I'm not!" Kid said defensively, not answering the question correctly.

Killer reached out to pull open his coat, but Kid snatched it closer to him. Killer tugged on it harder.

"Stop it! Yer gonna hurt Mousey!"

"Mousey?" Killer let go of Kid's coat.

Kid hmphed.

"Kid."

Begrudgingly, Kid opened his coat.

"I don't see anything," Wire quipped.

Kid's face had a light dusting of pink. He whispered into his coat, "Come on out." Nothing happened. "It's okay."

You didn't expect to be revealed to anyone and you were reluctant to come out. Kid had kept you safe this far, though. You poked your snout out of the pocket and sniffed. There were quite a lot of people in the room. Your round, soft ears followed until your whole head was peering out of the pocket's edge. You were met with a chorus of adoring squeals from the girls and even some of the guys in the crew. Kid scratched between your ears, which you were ashamed to say, felt amazing and a squeak slipped out of your mouse mouth.

Heat covered his face. "So cute." Heat reached out to scratch your head.

"Don't ya touch my Mousey." Kid possessively closed his coat.

Heat's face got even sadder than it normally was.

"Just keep that thing out of my kitchen," Killer said. "They're full of germs."

Kid muttered down into the pocket. "Don't listen to him, Mousey. He's just jealous."

The next few days, since you weren't really a secret anymore, you spent sitting on Kid's shoulder. Killer had just as much disdain for you as he did initially, much to Kid's dismay. He really wanted his first mate to think you were as cool as Kid thought. Even the tiny leather jacket he made you didn't convince the blonde.

Kid fed you well, but you were still intrigued by this secret food stash that supposedly existed. There wasn't much entertainment as a mouse on a ship and you were getting bored. So at night, you had been searching the ship for this treasure. The kitchen was the most obvious, yet the scariest place to hunt. Certainly if there was hidden food, it would be there, however, Killer was extremely territorial and observant. It would be dangerous to search that particular area. Tonight was the night you would risk it.

It was easy enough to slip under the kitchen door. Finding the good treats was harder, but your well-equipped nose was able to sniff them out. The problem came when your tiny mouse hands were unable to figure out how to open the secret paneling that the food was hidden behind. You could turn into your human form, risky as it was. It would be nice to stretch it out. You had been a mouse for several weeks.

Taking your human form, you poked around the paneling until it revealed its contents. There was a variety of fancy or high quality specialty foods, including cheeses and preserved meats. You found a knife and cut small pieces from a few things you were interested in. Then you put everything back in its approximate original position. You climbed onto the counter and reverted back into a mouse, stuffing the tiny pieces of food you had curated into your cheeks.

The following day, as Killer went about his business, he noticed a set of bare footprints on the floor. There was a light dusting of flour from the day before when he made pasta from scratch. He hadn't noticed it before now. What was strange was that the footprints were only in one spot, like a person materialized and dematerialized there. It was also strange that someone who wasn't Kid was barefoot in the kitchen, and these footprints were about half the size of his. He somewhat brushed it off, that is, until he noticed the other footprints on the counter, the much tinier, much mousier footprints.

You had been spending most of your time in the walls of the ship, when you weren't being carried around in Kid's pocket. Today was no exception. You spent some of your time exploring listening in on others' conversations. Peering through the cracks of the wood, you decided to eavesdrop on Kid. Killer had come to talk to him and you were curious about what the captain and first-mate talked about. It was a good thing you did, since you were the subject matter.

"Kid, there's something up with your mouse."

His head snapped up from what he was doing. "What? Did something happen to them?"

"The 'mouse' is fine." Killer made air-quotes as he spoke.

"What do ya mean 'mouse'?" Kid copied his air-quotes.

"I mean I don't think it's just a mouse." Killer explained. "There are footprints in my kitchen that go from human to mouse." Killer wasn't stupid. He could put the pieces together.

"So ya think Mousey is a person?"

"I do."

"Prove it."

Shit. He was on to you. You didn't even notice the footprints you left behind. Should you even show up to eat? Or would it be more suspicious if you didn't? You ended up waiting until Kid left for the night before skittering out to grab your little crumbs and retreating into the wall.

You made yourself relatively scarce for the next few days, meaning you spent more time spying on the crew, for entertainment purposes only. One particular conversation caught your attention. You only caught portions of it, but it was clearly a mutinous theme. It ended shortly after you caught on to it, however, so you didn't get any details. Technically, it wasn't your problem. This wasn't your crew and you weren't planning on sticking around. It ate at you though. It felt wrong not to repay Kid for keeping you safe. Maybe you could return the favor.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary after that. Maybe they had given up on their plans. Until one evening in particular, someone new had delivered Kid's dinner to his workshop. He didn't always eat in there but he did more and more after he started feeding you. There was something off about the smell of the food. It wasn't right. Before Kid could eat any, you scrambled up to the table and bit his hand as he reached for the fork.

"Mousey! What the fuck?! That hurt." Kid bopped your head with a finger. "No biting."

As he reached for the fork again you knocked it onto the floor.

"Don't piss me off, Mouse."

He wasn't going to take the hint. He leaned over to pick up the fork, which is when you took the opportunity to push the plate onto the floor.

"FUCK!"

You knew he wasn't going to be happy, in spite of that, you couldn't watch him eat poisoned food. You tried to run away afterward, knowing this. However, you were slow compared to him and his powers quickly put a tiny metal cage around you.

"Ya act like this after all I've done for ya?! Bad mouse!" He picked up the miniature jail cell and gave it a shake, causing you to tumble around inside, with squeaks of discomfort.

Kid stomped off with you in tow and threw you to Killer once he found the first mate.

"Take this little shit to the brig."

Killer gave him a questioning look behind his mask. "You want me to put the mouse in a cell?"

"Well, I ain't gonna kill it. I'm not a monster."

Kid relayed all your crimes to the blonde. It was funny, how Killer felt a little bit bad for you, even though he had never shown you favor prior to that. You bounced with every step he took down to the brig.

"Oh, Mousey. You fucked up." Killer was to keep you here until they docked somewhere to let you go.

No, you fucked up. Neither of them were familiar with mouse physiology it seemed. The bars on your prison were way too far apart. As soon as Killer left, you squeezed out of the cage and made a beeline back to Kid's workshop.

It was vacant at the moment. You hurried to the desk and found a writing instrument. It was tough in your diminutive body, but you left a message for the captain:

YOU ARE IN DANGER.

You hoped he took it seriously. Then you scurried your furry body back to your cell before anyone noticed, not that they would.

Unfortunately, Kid thought it was a prank. You tried another note on his desk. You tried to leave him a note on his mirror in lipstick. At this point, Kid considered that there was a ghost on board. Clearly this method wasn't working. Once it became obvious, you started venturing out of the cage when you knew there wasn't anyone scheduled to come down there to feed or check on you. The next best thing to try was going back to spying and figuring out who exactly was involved.

Now, what you would do when you figured it out? That was decided for you. It wasn't what you intended. But what were you supposed to do? One of the men spotted you. And he backed you into a corner. And he was going to step on you. Your only choice was to transform. And when he pulled a knife? Well, of course you had to disarm him. And now that he had seen you and knew you heard his plot, you couldn't just leave a loose end like that. So you had no choice but to cut his throat. You left the knife in his hand. Not very believable but there were footsteps in the hall and you had to get out of there.

Not long after that, Killer came down to your cell and squatted down, lifting your prison until you were eye level.

"I know it was you."

You licked your paw and groomed your ear, very cutely, you might add.

"You can't fool me. You really need to learn to cover your tracks."

You scratched the back of your other ear with your hind leg.

Killer let out a frustrated growl and dropped your cage. He stomped out of the brig.

How is he so observant! You really should have remembered about the tracks, especially since that's how he noticed the first time. Now what? Either their plan would be foiled by losing a member or they would escalate, thinking they had been found out. You knew there were others, and you had to find out who they were, and quickly.

Your investigative antics became riskier. You went into cabins and dug through drawers. You followed people around using the walls. You were getting closer. Until one day, you found two more people chatting. They were definitely up to no good. The more you listened the more alarmed you were. They were going to make an attempt on Kid's life again tomorrow.

There was no way you could take them both on. The only reason you won against the other guy was because you took him by surprise. You couldn't send a message to Kid either. That hadn't worked. If you tried to tell him as a human, he wouldn't trust that. The only person that knew your secret, or at least was fairly confident in his assumptions, was Killer. Maybe you could risk telling him. Maybe he would believe you. It was doubtful.

When you scampered back to your cage, you came to an abrupt stop. Killer was there waiting for you. You gulped. You were frozen. You were caught.

"Where have you been, mouse?"

The jig was most certainly up. He snatched you in his fist faster than you thought possible. You squeaked, trying to gain a little sympathy as a cute creature. Maybe it would make him believe you were a regular mouse. Then you bit him. He didn't even flinch. He was smart. He was trying to force you to reveal yourself, squeezing you gradually tighter and tighter.

You were forced into your human form to avoid being crushed, even then, his grip on your throat was immovable. You could sense his smugness in being right. He wasn't even surprised. You were grateful that however this fruit worked, you got to keep your clothes on when you transformed.

"Stop! Please!" You scratched at his hands.

Killer slammed you against the wall. "You killed one of my crew! You're going to pay for it."

"M-mu-tiny," you rasped out. The edges of your vision were going black.

Killer loosened his grip. "What did you say?"

"There's gonna be a mutiny."

Killer pushed you against the wall harder. "So you're a murderer and you've turned our own crew against us?"

"N-no. Please. L-et me go." You gasped for air. "I'll ex-plain."

Killer was decent enough to hear you out, and was shocked by the accusations. You couldn't help him further though. You hadn't heard their names and the way you described them was vague. It left Killer in a tough place. He didn't trust you, yet if you were telling the truth and his captain was in danger, he had to.

"I-I have an idea."

Killer didn't like your idea. Yet, it was better than anything he could think of, so he went along with it. And that was how you found yourself sitting on the inside of the Massacre Soldier's helmet, hanging onto his hair the next day. You could see out of the eyeholes better than you expected. Killer was strategically staring at each individual member and you were to whisper in his ear when you saw the people who were plotting.

As you spotted them, you hurriedly signaled to Killer that they were the culprits. As they had no proof, Killer was simply going to talk to them. But, as one does when being approached by a brick house of a man like Massacre Soldier, they got scared. This was not their plan, but they were so nervous, especially after one of them was killed, that they thought they had been found out. They both jumped Killer, and in the process of him defending himself, you slipped out of his mask and fell onto the deck.

You shook it off and your eyes searched for Kid, who was so distracted by the seemingly random scuffle, that he wasn't watching his own back, where a third, unexpected assailant was waiting. You ran as fast as your short legs would carry you. He spotted you instantly.

"Mousey? How'd you-"

Kid was taken aback by watching you run straight through his legs, and as he turned, seeing you transmute your form into that of a human. A human who was wrestling a gun out of someone's hand. Someone who was obviously trying to point said gun at him.

Regrettably, Kid was just a touch too shocked to react in time. His devil fruit activated to take the gun, but only after a shot was fired. He felt nothing. You, on the other hand, dropped to your knees and doubled over, clutching your midsection.

Was this how you imagined yourself being celestially discharged from this life? No. Did you have regrets? Probably. But saving Eustass Kid wasn't one of them. After all, what other mouse could say they saved a notorious pirate captain? Maybe your devil fruit wasn't that lame in the end.

______________________________________________________________

Kid thought about you a lot. They didn't have a trained doctor on board. They had to leave you at an island that had, thankfully, been in close range for you to be treated. He shouldn't be sad; his plan was to drop you off at the next island. Still, it felt wrong not to say goodbye or at least thank you.

Killer was grateful to you for saving his captain, even after being 'imprisoned' and roughed up by them. Even though you owed them no loyalty, you were more loyal than crewmates they had on board for months.

Several weeks passed. Kid happened to look up to see the NewsCoo delivery bird. The bird landed with a newspaper, some new wanted posters, and a small package. Curious, Kid picked it up and shook it next to his ear. Weird, what kind of gift made squeaks. Kid tore it open to find a dazed, white mouse.

"Oh fuck! Mousey! Sorry!"

You stumbled around in his hand, dizzy.

He hugged his hand to his chest and gave you a giant kiss on the head, staining your white fur red. In his excitement, he forgot you were a person. Upon remembering, he had a pink dusting to his cheeks and set you down.

You transformed into a human in front of him.

"Why did ya come in the mail?!"

"Cheaper fare than a boat," you grinned.

Kid all but threw you over his shoulder. "Killer! Look what we got in the mail!"

Killer stifled a laugh as he noticed a big red imprint of lips on your forehead. Kid went just as red as the mark when he noticed that it transferred to your human appearance. And neither one of those assholes told you it was there either.

Kid dropped the "y" from the end of your name from then on, but slipped up on occasion, still referring to you as Mousey. He still asked you to join him for dinner sometimes, too, as a person though, not a mouse; he didn't give you crumbs either. He liked your company.

Killer was impressed by your knowledge of cheeses and asked you to come shopping with him on islands for provisions. You also had a knack for picking the ripest fruits. He usually asked you to personally deliver Kid's meals, you know, to avoid another poisoning.

And some would even go as far as to say they saw a white critter scurrying under Kid or Killer's doors in the late hours of the night or scurrying out early in the morning.

[sp4ceboo]

CHAPTER 3 ~ PAINKILLERS & PLEAS

beneath a crimson sky masterlist | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5| ch 6

pairing: stray kids ot8 x afab!reader

genre: apocalypse au, dystopian, dark, adventure, action, thriller, fighting, eventual smut, romance

a/n: lil update for yall before i start getting busy

chapter warnings: somewhat vividly described gore, possible lazy editing on my part

chapter word count: 3.2k

Over the next week with them, you find that the boys’ unwarranted kindness makes it easier to fit yourself into the rhythm that all their hearts beat too, despite the odds.

Each morning you wake up to heat radiating either side of you, indicators of Minho’s back inches behind you and the length of Chan’s thigh pressed against yours through the double layer of your blankets. Jeongin is always the first to wake, and Hyunjin the last - no more late night tears occur with him. You wonder if Minho or Seungmin or even Chan have told him not to be alone with you, just in case.

Changbin, you find, is a little more serious on the exterior than he was when he was a child, though you’re not sure if it’s from being forced to survive or general maturing or even the time he’s spent serving in the army - he was lucky to be on leave when the Pestilence came. One thing you deem as odd is that he seems a little less vigilant of you than you’d expect him to be, but then again, nothing is exactly as you expect it to be. His eyes still hold no recognition for you. Somehow it makes the kindness in them harder to stomach.

You manage to avoid inciting Minho’s protective wrath, garner a few spare smiles from the still wary Jeongin, and crack Jisung’s shell enough to talk briefly about his music production. Best of all, you earn Felix’s friendship. His smiles feel like a trail of crumbs leading you closer and closer to a place where you might have the chance of belonging.

You’re eager to earn their trust, not only because it would give you someone to trust in return, but also because you’re beginning to realise just how close you were to driving yourself crazy when you were on your own. You want to prove you’re useful, if not to them, to yourself.

You want to know that there’s a reason, other than luck, for you to have survived thus far.

So when the opportunity presents itself, you seize it. Changbin is surveying his neat arrangement of cans and bottles in the corner, his lips moving silently as he calculates how much longer they’ll last, when he announces it: you need to go on a supply run. Chan offers to come first, you next, causing Felix to perk up and volunteer too, which leads to Seungmin saying he’ll join as well before a narrow eyed Minho can.

Now, you stand just outside the lab, all your masks pulled up over your faces. You’ve got an empty rucksack over your shoulder and the knife that Minho handed to you, along with a threatening look, stowed safely in your pocket. Absently, you fiddle with the rucksack’s straps, craning your neck to look up at the disturbing, crimson sky.

“We could clear out the convenience store I met you guys at,” you suggest when Changbin doesn’t immediately lead you in a particular direction. “Unless you had anywhere else in mind,” you add hastily.

“The petrol that leaked will all be used up,” Chan points out. “We won’t have that safety measure.”

“It’s close, though,” Seungmin replies, agreeing with you, to your surprise. “We won’t be long.”

“Changbin?” Felix asks.

He shrugs. “I’m the only one who hasn’t been there. You tell me.”

All four of you look over at Chan, who makes a face and gestures for you to lead the way. It doesn’t take long for you to get to the petrol station, just like the first time. You still have to skirt your way around the dead body twenty metres from the lab, you still have to turn the corner round the Korean BBQ shop.

As you do, your eyes widen, because the place looks almost unrecognisable. The electronic sign that would have displayed the petrol prices has been almost fully melted from the fire, which must have caught one of the other pumps so suddenly it exploded - the whole shop front is blackened, the glass blown in. Ironically, it looks like something from a zombie movie.

“Guess I need to be sent to jail for arson,” you mutter.

“Wait, you did this?” Changbin asks.

Felix huffs. “I told you I wasn’t exaggerating.”

You feel heat rising up your neck and shove open the door, careful as you step over the shards of glass littered all over the scorched linoleum floor. There’s several small scuff marks on the floor, too small to be human footprints. Idly, you wonder if any of the feral dogs have learnt to open tin cans as well as survive without their owners.

Cold wind gusts in through the broken door, whistling between the high shelves and ruffling Chan’s hair. Involuntarily, you shiver. It’s strange to see a place that you’d visited so many times reduced to this state: food on the lower shelves has been knocked down, plastic bags ripped open, the contents half eaten and rotting, no doubt the doing of wild animals. A crow flaps by and settles on one of the registers, eyeing you and snapping a beak stained with a type of red you don’t want to think about.

“Grab whatever you can,” Chan instructs once he’s stepped in after Seungmin. “Changbin and I will get the water.”

You nod, wincing as glass crunches beneath your shoes and following Felix and Seungmin deeper into the store, the latter peeling off after a while to pile some tinned vegetables into his bag, the former turning to talk to you.

“Shall we try in the back?” He asks. “When I came through here to look for an exit, it looked like they had a lot of food in storage.”

“Sure,” you answer, pushing open the already ajar door, squinting against the darkness within.

You make it several steps in before the stench hits you. There’s no doubt that something or someone has died in here; the smell of rotting flesh hits you like a punch in the face, and you clap a hand over your face while beside you, Felix retches. The next thing you notice is the trail of blood, as if a body was dragged in here from somewhere else in the store, and your heart plunges.

How could you be so stupid? How could you be so distracted by the burns and glass on the floor and gathering food that you didn’t see the streaks of dried blood, rusty on the ground beneath your feet?

Then comes a jingle, and you catch a quick flash of silver: light, reflected off something fixed to a shadow on the floor, and as your eyes begin to adjust, you realise with a jolt what it is. A metal tag, dangling from what must have once been a lovely blue collar that is now stained almost black with dirt and what you’re beginning to realise is blood. A lot of fucking blood.

The shadow attached to the collar growls.

Felix makes a choked sound, and the wind howls in and pushes the door open more, further illuminating the room and revealing what exactly the dog was feeding on - one of the store workers, long dead from what must have been the illness. The blood staining its muzzle is nothing like the old smears on the floor, not brown but the startling red of the sky.

You curse under your breath as several more growls sound, more dogs appearing from behind the storeroom shelves. The two of you won’t stand a chance fighting against them. These are the dogs that survived without their owners, who probably weren’t even trained properly, who would definitely prefer fresh, still warm meat to the rotting human they dragged into their new home.

Backing away, you fumble for the knife in your pocket. The first dog growls, and you can see the muscles in its haunches bunching, as it prepares to launch itself at you. You are completely and utterly screwed.

Adrenaline rockets through you. A stupid, entirely unhelpful thought shoots through your head: this is what your ancestors felt like before they tamed the wolf. Though not exactly - the one difference is that these dogs are not wild and they don’t have the instincts of a wolf to capably hunt for themselves, which means they’re hungry and you’re food.

Lurching to the side, you scrabble for anything on the shelf to your right, knocking over half the cans with a huge clatter, and launch the first thing your fingers come in contact with at the dog, just the second before it leaps.

The can of cat food glances off its shoulder but hits hard enough that your throat thankfully doesn’t get torn out.

Whirling around, as fast as you can in the seconds remaining before the dog recovers and attacks again, you grab Felix by the arm and shunt him as hard as you can towards the door. He stumbles, cursing, but makes it through and you sprint for the door too.

Felix’s eyes widen. You turn just in time, almost overbalancing in your haste, blindly stabbing out with your knife.

Fortunately, your blade hits home, and you narrowly miss probably losing a leg.

Less fortunately, your calf gets shredded into ribbons.

Agony tears through you, almost brings you to your knees, but your momentum sends you forward, out of the storeroom. Swearing colourfully, Felix catches you and kicks the door shut behind you, and it shakes with the impact of what must be the other dogs hurling themselves against it.

Seungmin hurtles around the corner, closely followed by Changbin and Chan. You grit your teeth, your eyes watery, fighting back the scream that builds in your throat, knowing your nails are biting into Felix’s arms and hurting him but unable to stop yourself. Changbin takes one look at the blood streaming down your leg and strides over, easing you out of Felix’s hold and hooking an arm around your waist so he can keep you upright.

“We need to get out of here,” you gasp. “I don’t know if the door will hold.”

“What happened?” Seungmin demands.

“She saved my life,” Felix replies. “I’ll explain later. Let’s go.”

You attempt to take a step forward, still clutching Changbin’s arm for support, and realise that it’s not such a great idea at all when spots fizzle to life right before your eyes, pain shooting through your leg as if someone’s replaced your shin bone with a hot poker. A stifled sound rips itself from you as you straighten, trying to fight back the wave of nausea that fills you when you glance down.

Blood runs down your legs and collects in your shoe, soaking your sock. The wound is messy, all torn flesh mixed in with shredded cloth, and you can see the puncture marks from the dog’s teeth, neat circles that tear away in long gashes. You sag against Changbin.

“I’ll carry you.” He phrases it like a suggestion, but you get the feeling he’d do it even if you refused.

Mutely, you nod. You’re half certain you’ve gone into shock.

He picks you up with ease, careful not to jostle you as he holds you with one arm under your legs and the other at your back. You tip your head to rest against his shoulder, trying to focus on the firm feel of his chest against your side in a failing attempt to ignore the blaring, insistent pain in your leg.

The brisk pace that Seungmin sets as he walks ahead with Chan while Felix explains means that to keep up, Changbin can’t hold you steady enough to completely avoid jarring your leg; you can’t remember when, but he’s tied a tourniquet for you from his shirt sleeve, tight enough that pulses rather than an onslaught of pain come throbbing down your leg with each step he takes. The distance from the store to the lab stretches far longer than it was on the way there.

“I’ve decided to become a cat person,” Changbin mutters. “Even though I’m allergic.”

You manage a strained laugh, knowing he’s trying to distract you. You already know he’s allergic. When he came over to your house after school, he’d always insist on petting your cat, even when his eyes and nose streamed.

Changbin laughs too, but it’s nothing like his real laugh, just a hollow sound that might have somewhat put you at ease if you didn’t know he was faking it. He twists sideways so he doesn’t bash your feet against the door frame into the lab. Sweat begins to bead on your forehead.

Looking worried, Felix’s face appears beside you, and he pulls off his mask, grabbing your hand tightly and squeezing it, unable to hide the concern roiling in his eyes despite the wavering smile he gives you. His face has paled a little, making his freckles stand out starkly, like brown constellations across a honey sky. They fade as your eyes go blurry.

“I’m sorry I didn’t move sooner,” he says, gnawing at his lip. “If you hadn’t had to push me out the door, you might have gotten out before the dog jumped.”

You force your eyes to focus on him. Over his shoulder, there’s a commotion as Seungmin and Chan enter the lab, no doubt relaying the story. “It’s okay, Felix. I froze up too. Seeing the body… it was awful.”

“Yeah. Yeah it was,” he nods. “Thank you.”

Hyunjin rushes over, his face draining of colour when he sees you. “Oh, shit.”

The others crowd around too, before Changbin orders them away and helps you sit down. Wordless, Minho kneels beside you, a muscle in his jaw feathering as he cuts away the rest of your ruined trouser leg, peeling off the scraps of blood soaked fabric from where they stick to your skin with laser focus. You think you glimpse a hint of concern in his eyes, but the pain has made you dizzy.

Everyone else steers clear, though Felix and Hyunjin send you worried looks, and Chan talks in a low voice with Seungmin and Jeongin. You get the impression that an injury as serious as yours has happened before, and they know to leave Minho alone as he works to clean your leg and bandage it, keeping Changbin’s tourniquet in place.

He doesn’t speak, either to put you at ease or to tell you how bad it is, so you take it as a good sign. Hiding your face in the crook of your elbow, you lie back and grit your teeth. You don’t want to look at your calf. You don’t want to know the damage.

Eventually, he sits back on his heels and cleans his hands on one of the less soiled wet wipes he must have been using to sanitise your calf. Getting up without a word, he turns and searches the rucksacks until he finds what he’s looking for, taking out a few pill packets and popping out two from each before returning to your side and holding them out to you with a freshly opened bottle of water.

“Painkillers,” he informs you. “Probably enough to knock you out for a bit, once they kick in. And antibiotics, since dog bites get infected a lot. Hopefully they’ll work if it transmitted the Pestilence, too.”

He watches you choke them down.

You don’t point out that if antibiotics worked on Pestilence, a lot more people would be alive right now.

Minho bundles up a spare blanket and eases it under your leg, his voice curt. “Keep it elevated. Try not to move too much.”

You blink as he walks off. He doesn’t really have anywhere to walk off to, so he just inserts himself between Jisung and Jeongin, who are sorting through the supplies he, Chan and Changbin managed to grab before you all left, his jaw still clenched.

Chan sits down beside you, a dark expression on his face as he takes in Minho’s handiwork, fiddling with his masks before he stills his hands, shoves the masks into his pocket, and gives you a hard look. You get the feeling that you’re about to be reprimanded, and you don’t really like the idea, but you can’t exactly get up and evade him.

“What you did was stupid.”

Yup, there it is.

“But it was also brave,” he adds, surprising you.

“There’s a fine line between brave and stupid,” you reply dryly.

He huffs a laugh. “That’s true, but I just wanted to thank you. It’s a pretty big deal to get bitten by a dog for some guys you didn’t know a week ago.”

You look at him. Belatedly, you realised that this - Chan saying that he values what you did - is him extending the olive branch. Before, you could tell he was still unsure about you, but there’s a certainty that sparkles in his eyes now, a confidence that fills you with a burst of hope that catches you off guard with its suddenness. There’s a chance that you might have caught the disease and that you might spread it to the others if you have, but he’s willing to take that risk because you are someone he wants to keep around, someone he knows he can trust with his life and with his friends’ lives.

You can feel the painkillers beginning to work, your eyelids drooping and the acute pain of the dog bite being washed away by numbness, but they don’t hold back the startling rush of clarity that clears your head: you didn’t hesitate this time, and you won’t hesitate the next.

“I’d do it again,” you tell Chan, so softly he has to lean forward to hear.

A strange look passes over his face. He gets up but pauses for a moment. “Let’s hope you won’t have to.”

You close your eyes so you don’t have to see him walk away. Your head is fuzzy, and you can no longer feel the sharpness in your calf - it’s turned into a dull ache, weak enough that you could forget it’s there. You don’t want to forget it’s there.

There’s a shuffling sound beside you and you crack your eyes open again. Felix is there, looking like an angel with his blonde hair and freckles and sweet, worried face. Reaching forward, he takes your hand again but says nothing, and you cling to him, suddenly irrationally afraid that they’re going to leave you while you’re sleeping. You try to focus on his face in an attempt to fend off the tidal waves of fatigue crashing over you.

“Felix,” you whisper. “What if I get the disease?”

He squeezes your hand, hard enough for you to wince, but you don’t let go, needing to hear what he says before you give in to sleep.

“You won’t,” he says.

It sounds more like a plea than a promise.

taglist: @estella-novella@0bticeo@lixies-favorite-cookie@smashleywow@realrintaro @extremechaoswarning @4l17h4 @hyunjinsjeans @insufferablyunbearable @lovemepie67 @needsumcomfypillowstosleep @loumin908 (let me know if you want to be added)

[scribz-ag24]

your grovyle and dusknoir pieces matter so much to me because you capture the very essence of how much the green gecko bastard and his 7.11ft tall ass ghost-guy-that-was-sent-to-kill-him-but-whoops-something-happened matter to each other and just how they change the other while still being all awkward at certain times because they are in a situation that involves feelings in which they are both not used to (grovyles emotional tendencies where he pushed down things and thoughts that would otherwise doom the mission he was on and dusknoir just being completely foreign to them because he strives from a world where kindness and love is seen as a vulnerability so he just strayed far from things that will inevitably stab him in the back) and how they try to navigate it while having to bear the annoyances of the other but still viewing them in high regard nonetheless. i dont go here too much but i figured i may as well say it because i think you're cool and because you draw those two annoying little studs so well. have a good day scribz

Waaaa thank you!! I appreciate you stop by here to be so lovely! This made my entire week 🥹🥹 I always love to see you when you tag, youre so thorough in everh post you reblog, it's a delight to see ^^

They are sooo important to each other, I don't think we appreciate enough how pivotal they are to each other's development, especially grovyle to dusknoir's. Still cant believe the ghost's parting word and thought was a a most thankful message to his old enemy, thanking him for giving his life meaning, for helping him not regret having truly *lived*, not just survived. I wish Dusknoir got some more dialogue after coming back to life, but those being his last words, in addition to him constantly referencing grovyle's speech, just goes to show how far he's internalized grovyle's words.

And the way Grovyle genuinely sees and reaches towards Dusknoir's inner goodness, *while* he's actively being betrayed, is beyond words. Grovyle loves his friends deeply and by this point he's clearly gone far enough to consider Dusknoir close to that status. Maybe Dusknoir protecting him from a blow hit too close to home and changed the dynamic in his eyes from "temporal ally" to just "ally". It can't be a coincidence that Grovyle opens up and explains his motives and ideas after Dusknoir takes the attack for him.

You just can't get one without the other in my mind, it's how they contrast and mirror each other, it's how the game switches the tables and flips their alignment so seamlessly. The thief-captor dynamic turning on its head once you see their true colors. How dusknoir appears more mature and put together thanks to his charm and social skills, only for him to end up learning and looking up to Grovyle, whose more developed life philosophy and selfless objective end up convincing Dusknoie to fight for something beyond himself.

Special Episode 5 is one of rhe best pmd chapters/story out there, and it's the most basic premise of Grovyle and Dusknoir working together. The writers developed them so well in conjuction that they can't be separated in my head.

But even then their contrasting personalities makes them so fun to put them into situations, despite the ares wjere they might overlap. they're both great but they belong together. And celebi just adds even more flavour to the mix by adding someone so radically different from them in her view and approach to things (seeing as shes one of the onlu characters explicitly in love, maybe even in priorities outside world-ending cataclysms xD). Future trio in post-canon is simply too rich, even the crumbs from PSMD links them together and that's enough for me.

(And also just in general the vibes are so good, we make fun of dusknoie for the "looking nervous having your back exposed to me" but grovyle's "you cling to me beyond expectation" and "i surrender, do with me as you will". BESIDES ALREADY THINKING ABOUR DUSKNOIR WAY MOEE THAN ANYONE ELSE.

he goes up to partner during the sunrise and goes "thinking about dusknoir?" whilw it turns out partner is thinking of how much they love the beach and their friend 😭😭 and then grovyle says in his letter "hey watch out for dusknoir bc he WILL BE BACK I KNOW HIM" and hero and partner jusr go "oh yeah that guy. remember that guy??" like THEY DONT REMEMBER WHO TRIED TO KILL THEM A DAY AGO?? 😭😭 why they dgaf lmao)

So yeah. I care about them a normal amount xD.

[lestappenforever]

https://www.tumblr.com/lestappenforever/734223343223488512/so-many-comments-about-how-ppl-never-expected-to

This ask had me thinking about my early days . I also became an F1 fan around 2023 May-June ish . I was a Lestappen fan before i became interested in F1 tbh bcz i came to know about it through a Lestappen fanfic on Ao3 (personally i find it pretty hilarious lol) . Anyway, so i have this habit of consuming years worth of information and media related to the thing i start hyperfixating on within an extremely short period of time . I remember when i was surfing through the Lestappen tag on Tumblr for hours on end (had a lot of free time then) and coming across those crumbs . It was so little i felt extremely disappointed. I caught up with almost all Lestappen crumbs and lore within a week or so . Finished reading all the good fanfics on A03 within a month. And then i had nothing . Kept on coming back to the tag and found nothing new for so long . When i tell you it was pure agony .The Pain™ . But then fast forward to October(?) and we start getting fed whole ass Lestappen meals . Everything escalated so quickly for me lol . But for you guys even the crumbs were so far and few in between. I have so much respect for people who have been Lestappies for years bcz what were y'all even surviving on for so long 😭😭

Anyway, just wanted to share this with you. Hope you are having a good day , Mona <33 unlike ferrari

(Also why is it always Ferrari jesus)

DK putting what it was like to be a Lestappen girlie (gn) in the early days into words, despite becoming a Lestappen girlie this summer. 👆👆👆

As to what we were surviving on before we got fed Lestappen content regularly: Crumbs and unhinged imagination, babe. That's it.

Thank you very much for sharing this, DK! I love and appreciate you so much, and I hope your Friday is going wonderfully. ❤️

(Let's not even go there, because we'll be here for years.)

[reginrokkr]

I have officially survived the first week of training! I'm still having a little bit of a hard time to believe that I already dispensed for the past two days even though both co-workers and the pharmacy owner and her brother told me that it should've been past the first month or two, so I'm taking that as a good sign! I'll play some HSR and GI as I barely had time during weekdays, then I'll jump here to deliver the drafts I have pending. The Perinheri collection is staring at me too, so expect me to both post a few references and rambles about it due to the juicy Khaenri'ah crumbs we get from those books. Hope you peeps have been doing well ♥︎

[silvertsundere]

Silver Talks AniManga (10/09/23)

no zom next week cause it'll be a recap and post will be 1 day late since jump will be on monday instead of sunday 😠 anyway start of new serialization round this week so that's fun, all the artists are newbies so good luck to them surviving the trial by fire

blue - finale/completed green - new series/new to me

Anime

Pokemon Horizons Ep21

it's funny how this worked out cause I called she was gonna catch hatenna before we even got the episode titles for this so great job myself. regardless it was a good ep, good to see riko get some spotlight and her finally catching a new mon too. some action next week with the baddies coming back so that should be nice

Atelier Ryza Ep11

nice ep, it was nice to see ryza get to show off her big brain and get recognition from (most of) the village. considering where it's gonna end next week I won't be surprised at all if they announce a cour 2, I expect it to happen even, but we'll see soon enough I guess

Zom 100 Ep7

nice ep, good to see that bastard get his comeupance cause seeing how he treated akira had me HEATED god. shizuka is very cute also, lots of good shots of her this ep. no ep next week cause it's gonna be a recap (oof) but hope that means 8 and 9 will be on time

Manga

Tenmaku Cinema Ch21 (Finale)

it's really a shame tenmaku couldn't last longer while something like nue is gonna outlive it by a bit. I really liked it, only a 7 cause it got axed prematurely so it had to rush quite a bit but it was quite good regardless. tosh's art is as good as ever and you could really see tsukuda's love for movies and knowledge coming through. the only complaint I have is how fast the mom plot got resolved since it wasn't really set up beforehand but that's a result of it getting axed early. it's a shame the jp readers didn't like it but I'll be looking forward to this duo's next work. tenmaku is getting a special chap in some months (I assume it's gonna be them after the timeskip) and next year they're doing a one shot so that should be good

MamaYuyu Ch1

new serialization round babey let's go. the only thing this author has done in the past was a one shot around this time last year but it wasn't related to this new series. the first chap was... alright. felt like a one shot really. it had some weird paneling but with some neat ideas for them a couple of times. the art's good for the most part but some of the chosen angles led to some goofy lookin faces. the monster design near the end was CRAZY tho. not really much more to say about it tho, the chap didn't set up that much. we know there's demon lords and heroes and that they've been fighting since forever but they've been at peace for 18 years now. curious to see where it's going from here since, well, they're at peace. is it gonna be isekai with the mc going to other worlds to help them? is his world gonna get invaded by more demons from other worlds? will it just be slice of life? who knows but we'll see how it goes in the next couple chaps

Dandadan Ch120

figured this chap would be to wrap up the reiko plotline, and set up the next arc, but it was fun seeing her tease momo like this. cool to see the next big baddie is a human (looking) guy since it's just been monsters so far, he has a sword too so expecting some pog stuff

Blue Box Ch116

nice chap, it's good to see taiki fired up and finally going all out against someone. it was also good seeing some progress on the ayame kyou romance cause I've been saying that was gonna happen for ages and there's been little crumbs before but today there was a really big one

Martial Master Asumi Ch12

time's flying in mma and skipping right to the fight, all while hiding nito's super move, but it makes sense, no much point spending time in a "training arc" when nito has trained all his life. looking forward to the fight next week

Cipher Academy Ch39

good chap, setting up the next arc and also giving us tayu's backstory and also saying that all this time she has been holding back which is very spooky. I'm also curious who iroha is gonna convince, my guess it's yosaimura since she said no right away but they have a really good relationship but we'll see. other guess is anonimity but I doubt it

[arcsparkasriel]

Vtubertale Profiles: Susie Dreemurr

You've heard the tales of my best friend/newly adopted brother Frisk, and my youngest blood brother Ralsei. Let me tell you the story of my newly adopted monster sister Susie. Now I still don't have all of the details from her about her time in the Underground, or her time on the Surface for that matter. While thankful for the love, support, and comfort from all of us, Susie is still having a hard time opening up. I may release a part two to this in the future when Susie gets to that point.

I got some of the details from Alphys. Apparently, she was only three years old when her parents volunteered for the Determination injection experiments. Watching Alphys recollect those memories wasn't pretty. She was stammering so much and had a mental breakdown every few seconds, so I went into her database. I still remember every password while inside the Flower. Goodman and Betty their names were. Sad as it is to say, it's probably for the best she was barely old enough to remember anything about them. Save for a few residual memories like a lullaby, a smell, and scattered images.

Needless to say, her parents died instantly upon being injected with a tainted batch of determination. I suspect that was Chara's doing...I can only hope they're watching over Susie from Paradise. As a result, Susie became an orphan overnight. I don't know how long she waited for her parents to return. Days? Weeks? Months? However long, she gave up at some point and ran out of food. Mom thinks she may have been forced to scavenge for scraps to survive. The thought made her want to give Susie extra significant portions every mealtime. That mother of mine. God bless her.

We've caught her at times eating pretty much anything under the sun. A cold jar of salsa, a bottle of mustard, moss, pinecones, chalk, and burnt crumbs from the toaster. She even tried eating one of Frisk's bottles of Apple Scented Shampoo before Mom swooped in to save her. Alphys says she developed pica from malnutrition and constant starvation. It's an eating disorder where one starts eating ordinarily inedible things.

What little we got out of her is what we expected. She heard about the barrier-breaking and made her way to the surface. Hearing about the tale of the Most Determined human and the "Angel that made the Underground go empty". Referring to me. She figured Frisk and I could help her. She found her way to the surface but got lost in the woods for a while. Apparently surviving off of some wildlife, some bits of trash on the side of the highways. But eventually made her way to the city where she spent a month scrounging through the trash, hiding in alleyways, and sleeping in dumpsters until the day Mom finally found her on the way home from work.

Mom tells me she was a little skittish at first but when she brought out a chocolate bar she wanted to bring home for Ralsei, Susie gave her a chance. Just like when Mom was guiding Frisk through the Ruins, when I looked out my window down to the sidewalk below, I caught my Mom holding Susie tightly by her little claw walking briskly down the street. Walking that signature little walk I always saw her doing.

I went to the door to meet them to see who this mysterious guest was going to be. Susie looked a little bit nervous, unsure of everything. That made two of us. But Mom insisted that Susie was going to stay with us for a while. None of us had any problem with that. When Frisk and Ralsei came out to see her though, that's when things got a little weird. The way they looked at each other, greeted one another. The whole atmosphere was just bizarre. It felt strangely...familiar in a way. But that was impossible. It was like I was watching a trio of long-lost friends greeting for the first time in centuries. I definitely don't remember Susie or her family from any of the resets. She became starry-eyed when she learned who we all were. The royal family of the Underground and the heroes of monsters all gathered together under one roof.

Only two months ago did we find out what happened to Susie's parents. Last month, Mom went through the proper channels and signed the documents to become Susie's new legal adoptive mother. And Ralsei, Frisk, and I all had a new sibling. And Dad a new daughter. Susan Dreemurr. But she still prefers Susie. The three kids are as tight as glue now. They do everything together. I completed the image by making them sea salt ice cream bars every week to eat while they watch the sunset on the roof. Mom has been extra attentive to Susie's needs. Just like the rest of us, Susie had also developed mental problems. Constant night terrors, fevers, it was never-ending. Like how my first few months were after coming back home with my soul.

Mom can't always be home to watch her, so I've allowed her to stay in my room when I'm streaming a lot. I even let her sleep in my bed with me when she wants to. All of this and more she's always embarrassed to admit though. It's pretty darn adorable. She's settled in nicely. I'm glad to have another member of the family. The more the merrier. Maybe next time, I'll get into more of her story. But its getting late and Mom is calling us all for dinner. So until then, I bid you aloha friends!

[quickdeaths]

As Sonia stepped into her bathroom to clean herself, Shinobu was left alone with the cat. "Don't worry," she murmured, as a movement away from the bed to finish setting things out in case they were needed was met with a pitiful cry. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise." It was a silly thing to promise to a cat who surely had no idea what she was saying, but Shinobu couldn't help herself. Taking care of this cat was clearly important to Sonia, and so there was nothing Shinobu could do short of her best.

It was the last refuge of a woman who had read entirely too many books in her life - to hope that there was some sort of thematic relevance to the whole matter. Perhaps if they aided this cat, then it would matter, in some way, to Sonia and Shinobu. Shinobu knew she needed reminders that she contained the potential to bring comfort and support to others - reminders that were not coming from her own subconscious. In Sonia's case, it seemed to Shinobu that she saw herself as irredeemable, tied down by her past as she was. For both of them, Shinobu hoped, maybe doing something like this could be in some way healing.

But, likely not, she admitted as she checked over her things for the second time, storing in her mind where everything was placed in the event she had to act swiftly. Things seldom lined up so cleanly in real life. There was every chance that this cat and her kittens wouldn't survive long on the island, or that they might disappear in a few short weeks never to be seen again. It was a spur of the moment decision by Sonia, and an equally rash one by Shinobu to help, little more than that.

And yet, it made Shinobu feel kind, or helpful, and it reminded her of Seiko. She'd cared about animals like this greatly, hadn't she? They'd heard a story about her, from Miss Ando, regarding how she'd tried to save two dogs hit by a car as a child. "Hey, Seiko," she murmured, half-expecting a vision of her to materialize somewhere in the room, or out the window, just out of reach. "This is something you could be proud of me for, isn't it? Rather than all of that killing." Helping an animal in need. Looking after someone sick.

"Are you hearing yourself?" Anzu clicked her tongue behind her. "It's only been a few months since she was murdered, and you're already trying to get your dick wet with someone who she hated." She slid around Shinobu's front side, hand gliding from her back, to her shoulder, to her chest. "She would be so disappointed in you, Shinobu-chan. But that's the thing about you, isn't it? You disappoint everyone. You let everyone down. You can't play your role, your real personality is awful, and you sit around feeling sorry for yourself so much that there's no reason for anyone to-"

Sonia's arrival shut her up long enough for Shinobu to focus and banish Anzu from her mind - at least while she had something else to occupy it. "I-I see," she murmured, reaching out to softly pet the cat in the manner Sonia had demonstrated. "I wasn't quite sure how to, truthfully. We never had these sorts of pets when I was a child. I only know how to care for pet fish." Admittedly, they also liked to be petted, sort of, even if it was just a pretense to get her hand in the water to pick the crumbs from her fingers.

There wasn't anything Shinobu could add to any conversation about the pain or difficulties of childbirth, so rather than swallow her own boot while trying, it was enough just to stay quiet, and continue to reassure the cat that things would be alright. "I'd already sectioned off the evening to spend time with you, Miss Nevermind, so even if it does take a good number of hours, I don't have anywhere else to be." No, she'd be here until this all concluded, and then probably beyond that. Shinobu couldn't imagine having the energy to walk back to her own lodgings at so late an hour.

Things were quiet for a short while after Sonia finished speaking. They imagined she was thinking of things, and so it was best not to disturb her. Yet, something had been on her mind, something that refused to be ignored. If, perhaps, they were to proceed, they needed to know it was with her blessing. "On that note, Miss Nevermind, regarding being with people who want the best for you," she started. And yet, it seemed by the shifting of the cat and noises she was making that things were about to begin. "Ah, forget I said anything," they mumbled with a shake of their head. "We can return to that topic later, when things have calmed down a bit."

She was hardly afforded modesty anymore. Kirigiri had advocated for some in the beginning, particularly when she and Akane had just awakened and had panicked at the state of themselves and the world. And Mikan, ever still a nurse despite it all, argued for patient confidentiality when she could. But that hadn't stopped some of the other Future Foundation agents from barging into cabins whenever they felt something was amiss: often, it was their boredom at play. Naegi had better things to worry about and Togami...well, it wasn't as if he made any attempt to stop them. To him, Sonia's bare body seemed hardly worth making a fuss over. He'd seen it, after all: virtually, but the Neo World Program had made every effort to recreate the reality the Remnants remembered.

So the fact that Yaguchi looked away was remarkable. As had been her gentle words, her touch upon her back, and how she hadn't hesitated to assist and sit with the cat while Sonia saw to personal needs. Sonia's scars had been fully covered by her swimsuit but nevertheless, she still felt a bit exposed in just that. How odd, that so recently she'd been quite comfortable in much less doing far worse than a simple shower.

"Thank you," Sonia replied, her wrap skirt draped over the back of her vanity's chair before picking up her folded pajamas and undergarments. "I will not be long. Hopefully she will not begin the last stage of the birthing process in my absence." A worry and a warning, if from the way she looked from Yaguchi to the cat was anything to go by.

Only when the door closed behind Sonia, the sound of the shower water flowing and shower curtain rings screeching across the rod as they were opened and shut, did the cat turn her attention to Shinobu. A pair of already-tired, yellow-green eyes looked up at the human beside her, a wet nose having been pressed into her hand and deemed acceptable. Besides, there wasn't much else the cat could do: she'd chosen the most favorable place to birth her kittens, and now lay resplendent, stretched out on her side as the kittens in her belly kicked and shifted, restless in her womb. So was the mother, as she used every bit of effort she had to sit up and lick at her backside the best she could for some amount of mutual cleanliness and relief.

Her body's reaction, however, was to release discharge, a combination of blood and mucus all over one of the towels, staining it through to Sonia's bedsheets.

"Mrow!" The cat yowled pitifully, looking up at Shinobu with pleading eyes. It hurts. Please don't leave me. She wasn't the first woman to beg for Shinobu's help in that cabin, though in Miss Kitty's case she was much better off staying put than being carried to the hospital. An objectionable human? This tall one with the severe eyes was hardly that. Her scent even lingered faintly in the pillows the cat was propped up against.

"Ooh, I think it is starting," Sonia announced after opening the bathroom door. Clad in a pair of light blue cotton pajamas and rubbing her wet hair dry with a towel, she chose to multitask with brushing the tangles out while sitting at the bedside, a close but comfortable distance away from the cat. "You must be wondering what is going on, aren't you?"

Sonia extended her hand towards the cat's head and in return, Miss Kitty pushed her forehead against Sonia's palm, purring only being Sonia's fingers began to rub at the spots behind her ears and on her cheeks, smoothing back her whiskers. "She wants to be pet, I think. She does not want to give birth alone," Sonia remarked, glancing up at Shinobu. "Thank you for arranging things and sitting beside her. You could pet her too, Yaguchi-san: I think she would like that, if she has not tried to find a new birthing nest thus far."

The tired cat's eyes flickered from Sonia to Shinobu, as if to give the latter permission to comfort her too. She whimpered, her tongue partly extended as she began to pant. "Who knows how long it will take. Hours, at least, and we do not even know how many kittens there are," Sonia mused with a sigh, continuing to stroke Miss Kitty's whiskers. "I wonder if I will be in the same sort of pain, when I am to give birth in the future. She's making it look almost tolerable," She nodded towards the cat. As beautiful as it was to bring forth new kitten lives, it was a challenge for Sonia to forget her own reproductive requirements. More so than any woman on the island, there was a distinct interest in monitoring her fertility cycles: to send back to Novoselic, to ensure she could still make the next heir. "At least she is in a safe place with people who only wish for the best for her."

Sonia couldn't say the same about her future predicament: it was made clear that her comfort and well-being would be secondary to the heir. That hadn't always been the priority in royal births, especially at her young age, but the Tragedy had changed things: an heir, or she was to die in childbirth and parliament would move down the line of succession, tracking anyone with Novosonian royal blood to sit on the throne. Anyone besides her.

Her brows furrowed: surely it wasn't the cat's fault, but the situation had a way of reminding her she was good to be bred, good to spend her family's money and access to various resources, and that was about it.

[crispy-chan]

yellow wood ➻ b.ch

➻ PAIRING. bang chan x fem!reader

➻ GENRE. angst, fluff, action; the darkest minds!au, runaway!au, dystopian, superpowers

➻ WARNINGS. language, violence, blood, children are all in 'rehabilitation' camps, injuries, themes of trauma and death, one instance of implied assault (that is stopped), kissing, innuendoes, food, superpowers (PG-13)

➻ WORD COUNT. 29k

➻ SUMMARY. after a horrible disease had spread across the world, killing most children, the ones that survived were left with special powers. not long after, the government began rounding up all of the remaining children, sending them to camps in hopes of "treating" them. but you all know the truth...

they were never worried about the kids that might die. they were afraid of you - the ones who lived....

➻ A/N. welcome to the first instalment of my new series 'the owners of clé'. i began working on this fic back in june 2021 but 95% of it was written in the past six weeks. it's inspired by 'the darkest minds' my favorite ya book growing up (be wary - there are some spoilers!) and the fic is full of (sometimes cringy) quotes from the book bcs i was whipped and chan is also whipped </3. i worked really hard on this fic and i'm kinda happy with how it turned out so feedback is as always appreciated :3. tysm to @jakes-tummy for the beautiful banner <3 part of the once upon a time collab by @daybreakx !! Tysm for being so patient with me T_T and I apologize for the endless delays </3

➻ GLOSSARY. PSI — a term that refers to the surviving children of the disease that developed special powers. PSF (psi special forces) — a government organization meant to control, contain and watch over kids in camps. skip tracers — adult bounty hunters that hunt for kids with psi abilities and turn them in for profit. white noise (calm control - cc) — a sound at a frequency that only psi can hear.

MASTERLIST | CLÉ MASTERLIST

𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎

When the White noise went off, you were in the gardens, pulling weeds.

You always reacted badly to it, a lot worse than all the others and you never understood why. It didn't matter if you were outside, locked in your cabin, or eating in the Mess Hall. Wherever you were, the White noise managed to get into your head, mess with your mind, and get you on your knees.

When it blasted, it felt like someone was repeatedly hitting your head with a hammer, and it always took you hours, as opposed to the few minutes the other girls took, to pick yourself up and return to previous activities, taking care of the West Creek facilities like it wasn't a prison they were forced to stay at. It was quite ironic, to say the least.

You didn't expect this time to be any different from all the other times. 

But it was.

Having not seen what happened to provoke the punishment, you had the privilege of fantasizing about what horrendous thing some kid must have done. Maybe someone got bold (and stupid) enough to bravely step out of the designated area you were bound to. Or perhaps someone lived out the dirty fantasy you all shared and threw a rock at one of the PSF Special Forces soldiers.

If that's what they did, you could definitely understand, maybe even say that it was fully worth it.

You too would have done anything to make them suffer, at least a little bit. Just like any kid here in West Creek, you wanted them to feel at least a crumb of pain that they put you through.

The speakers situated in every corner of the “camp” spurted out two warning blares that served to immobilize you. The first one was short and strong; like a powerful jab to the stomach, whereas the second one was way more prolonged. The skin on your neck crawled and you felt shivers run down your spine as you hunched forward into the dirt, pressing your palms to your ears to try to block out as much of it as you could.

To the State government and the Department of PSI Youth, the alarm was a lovechild between a dental drill and a car alarm, that was racked loud enough to make some less fortunate kid's ears bleed.

The sound blasted out of the speakers rendered you all useless. It rippled through the air, shredding every nerve in your tired, overworked body, forcing its way past your hands which were—may you add quite pitifully—trying to block the loud noise.

It got so intense that a girl next to you screamed out in pain as blood gushed out of her ears, drizzling her uniform in what would normally look like cranberry sauce. You on the other hand fought the urge to ram your head into the dirt ground, knowing that once this would pass, you wouldn't be allowed to shower properly, and after years of living here, you knew that the grime fifteen seconds you had under the cold showerhead wouldn't give you enough time to properly wash your unruly locks.

You bit your lower lip in order to prevent yourself from bursting into tears. That would only result in more punishment.

And then it all stopped...and silence followed.

𝚡𝟶𝟷𝚡

Chou Tzuyu was the first to die. Or at least the first in your fourth-grade class in Glow elementary school. At the time, probably tens of thousands of children were dead. The government simply managed to do a really good job of hiding it from you.

People were too slow to piece it together, and by the time they all realized that the deaths were connected, it was too late. When it finally came to light that the excessive passing of children wasn't exactly a coincidence, the school had already put a strict ban on teachers talking to you about the situation. They thought that it would be better to keep you all in the dark, as they all prayed for the finding of a proper cure that could potentially save you all.

The disease was later called the Choi disease, after Choi Beomgyu, presumably the first victim of the mysterious death. Yet it wasn't just Choi's disease...it was all of yours.

During the excruciating weeks that lead up to you being taken to the camp, you were still entirely in the dark, stuck in your world of drawing and playing catch in the backyard. The night before, when your mom read you a bedtime story right before you fell asleep, a smile present on your lips, you would've never expected the tragedy that was about to occur.

That night it had rained, which meant that your mom sent you to school wearing purple rain boots. In class, you talked about dinosaurs and practiced some simple math before Mrs. Min dismissed you for lunch break.

You remembered every detail of lunch that day. You remember staring at the beef stew on your plate with disgust as you eyed the lunch lady warily. You remember racing with Renjun for the last spot at one of the tables.

The table where all the popular kids dined, including Chou Tzuyu.

You remember her passionately arguing with Mina about whether there was a strand of hair in her stew.

“I'm not a liar!” Tzuyu argued, her cheeks tinting pink as the tips of her ears turned red in embarrassment. The entire class was now watching the brawl as Tzuyu helplessly tried to locate the hair she claimed to have seen on her plate. “I swear it was here just a sec—”

Her movements halted.

The fork she used to dig through the food slipped out of her hand, banging against the delicate porcelain of the plate. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were trained at something beyond your head. You swiftly turned around hoping to see what she was oh so desperately looking at when you heard a thud.

Silence followed before loud screams and calls for help erupted from everywhere around you. When you turned back at her, you saw her body slump down in the seat, eyes trained at the ceiling as a little drool escaped her mouth.

One of the teachers immediately ran towards the girl, lowering her ear to her chest, listening for a heartbeat. Her face went paper white as she heard none, but at this point, you and your classmates still thought that she had fainted, similarly, like Sunoo did a few weeks prior during dodgeball.

The school nurse rushed towards her limp body, pushing the teacher away and instead trying to pump her chest multiple times before she lowered down and pressed her lips to hers, attempting CPR. Despite all her best efforts, the girl wasn't waking up. And once Mark nudged her hand with the tip of his sneaker, you all finally realized that she was dead.

Loud screams erupted, and panic flooded the cafeteria as the teachers desperately tried to contain the children, trying their best to calm them down and set some order.

You stayed glued to your spot, eyes hazy as you trained them at the spilled cup of orange juice on the floor that the nurse knocked over when she tried to save your classmate.

If it wasn't for the security guard that carried you outside once the Special Forces came in, who knows how long you would've stayed.

At home, you could only remember seeing president Hwang address the nation in sorrow, announcing that the disease has spread and that it was endangering the lives of all the children.

But then it hit you. The government was never scared of the kids who might die. Quite the opposite—they were scared of the ones that would survive. It was never about the ones that lost their lives. It was about containing the ones that would remain.

They were afraid of you.

𝚡𝟶𝟸𝚡

The rain was blasting against the windows on the day they brought you to West Creek. 

You were seated inside of a school bus, along with about seventy other kids, all of you covered in sweat, grime, and tears. Most of you were pulled out of your homes at the most unfortunate times, including you. Dressed in your pajamas and no shoes, it wasn't exactly the most pleasant, your body was shivering as it tried to contain some of your heat. But you knew better than to complain.

Amidst everything that the soldiers have told you when they shoved you aboard the vehicle, silence was the most important one. That's why you focused on keeping your eyes trained out the window and watching each building in the distance come and go.

Your hands were tied behind your backs with a thick rope, making the entire five-hour ride painfully uncomfortable. You could already tell your wrists would be sore.

After they had forcibly taken you from your home, you were dragged, along with hundreds of other kids, into the city hall which was transformed to offer very little comfort, but to take in as many children as possible. Your ten-year-old self didn't understand at the time that there was no going back.

It took more than six years for it to finally sink in.

Ever since the first meeting you had with the doctor, you could sense the dread filling your gut before you even knew of anything. The man introduced himself as Dr. Kim, or simply Namjoon as he insisted you called him.

You were sat in a white, leather-bound chair, akin to the one at the dentist, and a large scanning device was hung above your head. The tremors wracking through your body must've been clearly visible, as he quickly jumped to point at the large poster on the wall.

“You see, after the disease broke out, each and every child was left with a… a power. A lingering side effect of the Choi disease.”

He cracked his knuckles, turning from the computer to give you a wry smile. Pushing up the glasses on the bridge of his nose, he questioned, “do you have any symptoms? Were you pre-classified when they took you?”

You shook your head mutely, still unable to mutter a single word. When the PSFs took you, the only thing on your mind was what had just happened. The memories of your own mother, staring at you like she didn't know who you were, like you were a stranger in her house, made the bile rise in your throat once again.

“Okay, so let's start from the basics,” he pointed at the lowest point of the pyramid. “The first category, and the one you're most likely to be placed in, are the Greens. These children possess a very high IQ and are able to solve puzzles and memorize tens of digits at a moment's glance.”

You suppressed the urge to violently shake your head. That wasn't you.

“Next, we have the Blues—who can lift things with their sheer willpower—like telekinesis, basically.”

‘Oh,’ you thought. So those were the kids that were trying to break out of the PSFs hold by moving rocks at them.

“Then, we have the Yellows and the Reds, who can respectively control electricity and wield fire. It's a pretty dangerous power when not kept under control, although they are pretty rare.”

“And lastly,” he clasped his hands together, a grim shadow casting over his face, “there's the Oranges, the most dangerous ones.”

Upon seeing the look of horror on your face, he hurriedly reassured, “Don't worry, you likely will never come into contact with one of those. They make up about 0.003 % of the population. The chances that you'll even cross paths with one of them is abysmal.”

Your hand clutched onto the armrest, nails digging into the faux leather as your voice cracked, “T-Their powers?”

���Mind control. They can enter people's minds, mess around with their memory and freely control them to do anything.”

You felt your heart fall into the pits of your stomach. This sounded… oddly familiar. If you were to classify what happened to your parents, you'd likely say something along the lines of their memory of you being erased. But what could've caused it? You didn't do anything out of the ordinary, did you?

Your hand just brushed against her arm as you pleaded, looking into her eyes…

And then it hit you. Touch. Could it have been activated by you touching her?

Your train of thought was interrupted by a loud cough, Dr. Kim's eyes glancing at you with a mixture of worry and suspicion. In a hurry, you mustered up the most “innocent-child-like” expression you could, hoping that he wouldn't ask any further questions.

“I'll have to scan your brain to see what color is beginning to develop inside of you, okay?” he gestured towards the device hanging above your head. 

You could feel your hands begin to tremble. If this thing could find out what you were from just a simple scan, it would mean that Dr. Kim would find out soon. He would know, and then, they all would know.

Clenching your fists, your eyes shut as the beeping sound echoed through the room, the rhythmic clicking of the keyboard coming to a jarring stop. Namjoon's eyes widened at the warning sign that popped up on his screen before he hastily recomposed himself, his hand gently reaching to pat you on the head.

“It's okay, don't worry. I just have to call a colleague of mine to help me with something, alright? I'll be back—”

“No,” your hand shot out, panic flooding your veins as your little fingers clutched onto his wrist. “Please don't go.”

He sighed at the desperation in your pleading tone, breaking out of your hold. “I'll be right back, don't worry—”

Suddenly, your eyes flashed bright orange, pupils dilating as grabbed onto his hand once more. This time, with much more force. Hiding the tremble in your voice, you uttered, “don't go! I am green… I am a Green. I'm not a threat.”

His eyes went blank as he nodded, almost mechanically, retracting his hand from the receiver behind his belt. “You are a Green.”

“Okay. N-Now mark me as one in the system.”

𝚡𝟶𝟹𝚡

“Ouch,” you winced, shoving the tip of your finger in your mouth, and tasting the copper flavor of blood on your tastebuds. The thick, long needle you were forced to sew with had pricked your finger once again, this time drawing blood.

You hated working in the textile factory with passion.

The Sun was always glaring at you through the shabby roof, the wind would gust through the ruptures in the wall and the rain would drip on you through the cracks in the cement. Not to mention the dozen of PSFs standing behind you and breathing down your backs as their beady little eyes carefully watched out for any tiny mistake, something that would give them an excuse to scream at you.

You could feel your eyes getting heavy, lashes fluttering to try to keep them open. The muscles in your arm were twitching, causing you to drop the needle to the ground. Groaning, you bent down in hopes of finding it in the dirt but to no avail.

You were about to turn around to ask for a new one when you bumped into someone's chest. A woman, you assumed in her late thirties, was glaring down at you with her teeth barren, rifle hanging off her chest.

“You're doing this all wrong,” she sneered, pointing at the jacket you were sewing together. “Not to mention you're slacking off on the job.”

You furrowed your brows, focusing all your energy on not exploding. This was exactly what she'd wanted—for you to lose your cool and give her an incentive to punish you.

“Why are you so sloppy? I thought you Greens were supposed to be smart… Yet you can't even follow instructions properly.”

Next to you, Jeongin's hand slowly extended from under the table to gently palm at yours. It was his way of subtly reassuring you, telling you that he was there.

“Don't say anything,” he mouthed grimly, hoping that he had managed to convey the number one unspoke rule of the camp. 

Never talk back to PSFs.

“What's with this stitching?” she jabbed you in the side, finger moving to point at the piece of clothing in front of you. Her teeth were bared, like a wild animal deprived of food and ready to pounce. But that didn't change the fact that the stitching was perfect.

Sewing wasn't that hard, and after having done the same job for years, it would've been almost laughable if you weren't able to do a simple backstitch by now.

“Answer me, Green!” she yelled in your ear, the taunt in her voice clear as day. It was an old trick by now, something you've seen happen so many times and you wouldn't let yourself fall into that trap.

When you didn't respond, a round of snickers echoed through the run-down building, the other PSFs enjoying the show. The woman looked around angrily, seconds away from dragging you away. Tears were already welling up in your eyes, knowing what would likely follow.

However, just as she was about to grab your arm and pull you out of the line, a loud clank resonated through the air, and everyone went quiet. If people weren't watching before, they sure were now. 

Snapping your head to the side, dread filled you up as you watched your friend stare at the ground. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Jeongin kept his eyes trained at the crate he just pushed off the edge of the table. A dark shade of red blossomed on his cheeks and from the corner of your eye, you noticed that his hands were trembling.

And then it hit you—he did it on purpose.

He successfully managed to take the attention away from you, thus freeing you from the unwanted spotlight you were cast in. Cries bubbled up in your throat but you knew better than to let out a single noise.

Instead, you watched as the PSFs hauled him away, a single tear rolling down your cheek. Jeongin stayed quiet the entire time, but as he was dragged through the doorframe, he turned around to catch your gaze. Before he disappeared completely, his lips formed a weak smile, as if reassuring you that everything would be okay.

Well, to be completely truthful, it wasn't…

𝚡𝟶𝟺𝚡

Three full days passed before Jeongin returned to your cabin.

That was 72 hours, 4320 minutes, and 259200 seconds. And while the days at West Creek used to fly by in a monotonous haze, having repeated the same routine for years, these past three days were nothing but excruciating pain.

It was almost like you could feel each second.

The anxiety was eating away at your insides, and you often found yourself returning to an old habit you thought you had gotten rid of back when you were in second grade—biting your nails. But the stress of not seeing Jeongin for so long causes your heart to cave in from the inside.

You were sitting outside the cabin, hogged up with your blanket when you finally spotted him.

He was walking back from the closed-off sector of the camp, and even from your spot on the ground, you could see that he was limping. His right leg was visibly injured, you noted, and from the way he clutched onto his stomach, you would assume that he hadn't eaten in a long time.

“Jeongin,” you sprung up to your feet, running up to him. Despite his horrible state, you were glad to see him back alive. Jeongin, however, didn't seem to share the sentiment. He breathed out a shaky breath but didn't respond, leaving you to worry for him even more.

“Look, I left you something from dinner,” you gestured towards the small tray with food, attempting to break the ice, but he simply shrugged you off, walking (or rather limping) past you. When you turned around and called for him, he finally murmured, “I-I'm sorry… I just need to be alone now…”

With a heavy heart, you watched as he dragged himself back into the cabin before unceremoniously plopping himself on his bunk, immediately falling asleep.

That night, as he tossed and turned under you, you couldn't help but let your mind wander. No one really knew how the PSFs punished you, except for the children who have been punished themselves, of course. But it didn't stop you guys from forming your own theories.

And that was how most of the stories came to be, some just baseless rumors created to occupy your mind with something other than the neverending cycle of monotonous work at the factory, while others were a mix of that and the little snippets of truth that one of the unfortunate children could confirm after having experienced it first hand.

And that night, you realized a sad, bitter truth. Talking to Jeongin, laughing with him, eating together in the mess hall… it would never be the same.

Actually, Jeongin would never be the same. 

Not after what they had done to him.

𝚡𝟶𝟻𝚡

You spent the following days nervously trailing behind your friend, unsure of how to act around him after what had gone down. The circles under his eyes were heavy, and the way he carried himself seemed almost lifeless.

Every time he wordlessly passed you in the gardens, you felt your heart shatter. Guilt washed over you, sweeping through your mind and trickling into every crevice of your conscience.

How could you not feel like it was your fault?

As you grappled with the wrenching feeling of penitence, the days went on, burly winter days bleeding into spring. The few flowers that were left were beginning to bloom and they lent West Creek a sort of coziness, as unreasonable as it sounded, but when in peril, you had to find joy in the little things.

You were begrudgingly digging your fork into the mystery vegetable soup when Jeongin suddenly slammed his tray next to yours, plopping into the seat beside you.

Your eyes shot up to him, confused, as you shoved another spoonful of the suspicious liquid into your mouth. Seconds later, you regretted that decision, nearly gagging at the salty flavor.

“Yeah, I wouldn't eat that if I were you,” Jeongin's lips quirked upwards into a half-smile as he tore off a piece of bread. You watched him, slightly jealous, as he ate the only thing that was edible in this entire canteen—stale bread.

When he noticed how you gazed at it, some drool appearing at the corners of your mouth, he chuckled, splitting the remaining piece in half. “Here you go.”

You stared at it for a few seconds before it finally registered. Blinking, you look up at Jeongin, making sure that this wasn't just a dream.

“Go on,” he noded in your direction, nudging the bread into your hand. “You can eat it. The lunch lady gave me some—I think she heard about the incident and felt bad…”

“Thank you.”

The two of you continued to eat in silence, the bustling crowd of kids slowly dissipating until it was just you guys who were left. There was this weird sort of tension in the air, everything around you suddenly feeling heavy.

As if on cue, Jeongin turned around to face you, a serious expression on his face. His hand extended under the table, enveloping yours as he whispered, so quietly that you almost missed it.

“We have to escape from here.”

At first, you snorted. It was a natural reaction to something as preposterous as escaping from this hell on earth. There was no way he was serious, was there? This was ludicrous…

“I'm not kidding,” he spoke hushedly, training his eyes at the ground. Then, his expression morphed into one of fear as he stuttered, “T-They're gonna send me away…”

Immediately, your grip on his hand tightened. “What do you mean?” you implored, tears welling in your eyes. “Why would they be sending you away?”

A-All of us,” he choked out. “They're sending all of us Yellows away next week. Just like they did to the Reds before…”

N-No… no. this couldn't be happening. This absolutely couldn't happen. Biting down on your lip, you could feel your mind beginning to shut off. Jeongin, having spotted your reaction, immediately reached to caress your face.

“It's okay, Y/N. Please, don't cry…”

You wiped away the tears with the back of your hand, looking back at him. “A-Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he let out a frustrated groan, running his hand through his hair. “I heard some of the PSFs discussing it. It seems like their decision is final.”

You desperately tried to keep the tears at bay, burying your head into his chest. Sniffling, you gripped onto his yellow uniform. “What are you going to do?”

Taking a deep breath, he looked around to make sure no one was listening. When he found the coast clear, he whispered, “I want to escape this hellhole. I was hoping you'd agree to come with me…”

He was awfully gentle about it, making sure to phrase his thoughts in a manner that wouldn't sound like he was forcing you to come with him. He was well aware of the risks, and he himself had no problem putting his life on the line if it meant he could escape from this prison.

But he wouldn't be able to live knowing that he had left you behind. That's why he was asking you in the first place while giving you an option to reject his offer.

All his qualms dissolved into dust when you responded, voice slightly shaky but with an air of conviction. 

“I'll come.”

𝚡𝟶𝟼𝚡

The following morning, you and Jeongin woke up at the crack of dawn, in hopes of preparing for your little mission before all the others would wake up. Granted, there wasn't not much for you to do; you didn't own any memorabilia and Jeongin insisted that he had a plan, a plan he was so confident in that his certainty never wavered.

“Are you ready?” he asked, helping you put on your backpack filled with knickknacks the two of you thought could be useful once you escaped. Looking over at him, worrying your lower lip between your teeth, you nodded.

“Still don't want to tell me this grand plan of yours?”

He smiled, opening his mouth to speak when a loud beeping noise echoed in your ears. A glint appeared in his eyes. “Come on, we need to go,” he mumbled, grabbing your hand and running towards the north sector of the fence.

“We don't really have much time, but a new shipment of PSI children is arriving today. Most of the PSFs will be guarding the main entrance.”

When you raised your brow, he continued, “I heard them talking about it. One of the guards mentioned that nearly everyone will be sent to the main gate to handle the transaction. We should be safe for as long as they're away. We have maybe around ten or fifteen minutes.”

The two of you managed to slip through the narrow alleyways between the cabins, successfully avoiding the main path where you were likely to be spotted. It took nearly five minutes of continuous running to reach the tall, electric fence that bordered West Creek.

“I-I don't get it, Jeongin,” you implored, breathing in deeply. You haven't run like this in ages. “What now? How do you want to escape?”

“Well,” Jeongin paced towards the left, pointing at a small rip in between the thick cord of metal. “This is our ticket out of here.”

His voice rang in your head. He sounded so triumphant as if he was convinced that this was truly the way to get out of West Creek. You hated to be a killjoy, but you weren't able to suppress the disappointment that painted your face.

“Hey, hey,” Jeongin called out to you, cupping your face. “Don't worry, I have it all under control.”

The way your lashes fluttered must've given it away that you weren't really sure if you could trust him on that. Sighing, he extended his palm towards the fence, fingertips nearly touching it.

“Did you forget that I control electricity?” he piped, squashing down the worry that blossomed in your chest when he was about to touch the fence.

Your grin suddenly mirrored his, a wave of relief washing over you. You supposed that since using your abilities was prohibited in the entire camp complex, you had forgotten that underneath the color of your jumpsuit and behind the title the PSFs would refer to you as was a power linked to it.

Never had you seen Jeongin, or any Yellow, for that matter, use his abilities. The closest you have seen were a few blues throwing rocks at the angry PSFs when you were first hauled into the camp.

It was the first time you had seen the boy so concentrated. His brows were furrowed, and the tip of his tongue was peeking out from the corner of his mouth. His eyes flashed yellow, and for a brief moment, you thought you had imagined it.

He clenched his hand into a fist before releasing it. And just like that, you could see the bright yellow hue color the fence as the golden mass appeared to wrap around each metal cord. Then, when he added his other hand, the yellow seemed to withdraw away from where he was pointing, like the red sea parting in front of Moses.

“You're making the electricity disappear?” you asked in awe, eyes widening at the sight. It was singlehandedly one of the most amazing things you have ever seen. Jeongin smiled fondly at your genuine amazement, chuckling to himself.

“Not exactly. I can only control it, not generate it or make it disappear.”

Once he was sure that the electric current was gone, crouched down. The morning bell rang loudly, drumming in your ears as the boy whispered, “Quickly! We don't have much time left.”

His nimble fingers reached to wrap around one of the loose cords, tugging upwards. When it didn't budge, he applied more force, finally causing it to bend to his wishes. You helped him pull it up, silently cheering when you had managed to create a hole big enough for you to crawl through.

“You go first,” Jeongin pointed toward the new opening in the kilometers-long fence. You shook your head softly. “No. You should go first.”

“Y/N,” Jeongin began, a smile spreading across his face. “Just go, okay. We're both going to make it out of here, understand? There's no need to argue about this.”

“Okay.”

Laying down on the muddy ground, you pushed your backpack through the gap, following almost immediately. You did your best to shuffle through the tight space, cursing when you felt something tug at your jumpsuit.

“Shit, something got caught on my collar,” you whisper-shouted, panicking as you couldn't move forward. And if that wasn't enough, you heard loud stompings from behind you, which could only mean one thing…

“Fuck,” Jeongin cursed under his breath, reaching his hand to unhook the collar of your jumpsuit from the barbed wire. You heard him mumble a string of colorful words when the sharp metal spike grazed his palm, tearing through the skin.

“Don't move!” a loud voice hollered from across the garden, causing panic to flood your veins. “J-Jeongin,” you whimpered, tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks as you struggled to move.

“Don't worry,” his voice was calm and leveled. How he had managed to sound so collected in this situation was unknown to you, but you appreciated it nonetheless. “I'm getting you out of here.” He took a few controlled breaths before skillfully unhooking the wire from your clothes.

You cried in relief once you finally emerged on the other side, massaging your sore limbs. When you turned around to look at Jeongin, however, you froze, watching in horror as one of the PSFs grabbed his rifle and aimed it at the boy. 

The screams got caught in your throat, the loud bang ricocheted before you could even warn him. The bullet pierced right through his arm, causing the limb to fall to the ground as he howled in pain. 

“J-Jeongin,” you whispered, the sound barely audible as you stilled in your spot, eyes glued to the wound as crimson started to color the fabric of his jumpsuit. 

“Damn it,” he cried, clutching his arm in pain as he desperately tried to stop the flow of blood. “Fuck! You have to go, Y/N. Now!”

The words are stuck in your throat as you vehemently shake your head. “N-No. I c-can't leave you here. Y-You have to come t-too.”

“Y/N,” the chuckle that left his lips was broken, a sound so heartbreaking you could feel your insides clenching. “It's obvious that I'm not making it out of here so please fucking go before they get you.”

You sucked in your lower lip, tears streaming freely down your face. “Please… for me? If you don't go, this entire mission will be useless, do you hear me?”

“B-But I—”

“Please.. Just go, I'm begging you,” his voice cracked and you noticed how heavily he was breathing.”

“Don't move!” the PSFs shouted, their voices now a lot closer. Another bullet whirred past you, missing you by a hair.

As you struggled to stand up, Jeongin gave you a somewhat reassuring smile, blinking away the tears. Your trembling hand reached down to cup his face, unknowing of what a big mistake it would be. As you gently caressed his cheek, trying to imprint every single feature of his fox-like face into your mind, something flashed in his eyes.

They were suddenly blank, and he gazed at you distantly. You could see the gears spinning in his head as he opened his mouth, heart-shaped lips uttering a question that would replay in your head for the following weeks like a broken record.

“Who are you?”

Your mouth parted in shock, realizing that history had repeated itself.

With a loud cry, you sprang up, running away from the fence as if your life depended on it (which it did). You could hear the screams, alarm blaring off as one of the PSFs finally remembered to use the White Noise.

You clutched your hands over your ears, feeling the bits of blood trickle down your forearms as you fought to move forward, wanting to put as much distance between you and the camp.

Stumbling through the forest, you finally emerged on the other end of it, your feet having carried you to the main road. Tears were streaming down your face, and you felt sick to the stomach.

What have you done?

Not only did you leave Jeongin behind, even though he was the one that was in danger, but you had also managed to erase his memories of you.

Just like with your parents.

It was exactly because of this you had decided to not make friends and grow attached to anyone—you didn't want to go through the pain of realizing that someone you considered close to you, someone you cherished, was gone.

He had no memories of you.

You had managed to obliterate your existence from his mind. Choked sobs left your mouth as you ran, leaving the past six years of your life behind. The dark forest was far behind you, as you heard the voices of the PSF officers drow out into a quiet buzz.

You were on your own now.

𝚡𝟶𝟽𝚡

Everything was quiet.

In front of you, a long strip of land extended over the horizon, nothing but fields in sight. You had been walking for at least a few hours now, and the afternoon heat was beginning to get to you as you wiped off the sweat from your forehead.

Thankfully, after a few minutes, you began to see the outline of a rundown structure. It was a gas station, you realized, and a breath of relief escaped your lips.

You burst through the door of the beat-down gas station, relief washing over you immediately as you spotted that there was still some food on the shelves. Holding your breath, you walked through the aisles, searching for the goods with a long shelf life. The ground was littered with old cardboard boxes and shattered glass bottles, so you tried your best to tippy-toe around it.

Just as your hand was reaching for a bottle of water, you heard a loud crash coming from the front of the store. Two voices were arguing, and by the sound of it, they were both men (or perhaps boys, you had no way of knowing for sure).

You began to panic, grabbing the bottle and a bag of chips from the shelf as you quietly headed for the exit. Then, as if on cue, you heard a truck pull up to the curb, two men dressed in black with rifles in their hands coming out.

“Fuck,” you whispered under your breath, cursing your fate. You had just escaped West Creek, why did you have to run into someone? You were startled from your transfixion by a quiet voice.

“Pss,” you turned around coming face to face with a guy around your age. He was crouching behind the counter, motioning for you to follow him. Under any other circumstances, you would've run away, but it seemed like you had no choice.

The handsome boy quietly led you out of the store from the back entrance, his hand wrapped around your wrist. You flinched at the contact, the memories from today's morning flooding back into your head as you tugged your arm from his grip.

“Uh, s-sorry,” he murmured sheepishly, running his hand behind his neck. It was then that you noticed he had taken you to a small minivan. “I figured you'd wanna get away from the skip tracers.”

Your brow arched at the unfamiliar word. His eyes slid down to your uniform and understanding, along with surprise, flashed across his face. “Did you just come from a camp?”

As if the words were stuck in your throat, you nodded, nervously looking behind you. Whoever these skip traces were, they sure seemed like bad news, and you didn't want to stay and find out what they'd do to you.

You looked back at the boy to find that he was still looking at you, worry written all over his face.

“You can come with us if you'd like,” he motioned to the vehicle, walking up to the front and opening the door. As soon as he did, a lanky mass of limbs stumbled out, nearly hitting the pavement.

“What took you so long, Chan? I thought you were just—”

The words stilled in his throat, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. You took the moment to take him in; he was notably around your age, but nearly not as tall as Chan and had a leaner build. His hair was a mix of honey and light brown, the unruly mop of curls splayed in front of his eyes, framing the circled spectacles perched on top of his high nose bridge.

His mouth twisted into an exasperated scowl. “I thought we said no strays!?”

Chan rolled his eyes, “We were talking about the cats, Sung. Not people…”

Your eye flickered from one boy to the other, brain going into overdrive. Sweat was beginning to line your forehead as you fiddled with the sleeve of your green uniform. It had been way too long since you had properly talked to anyone other than Jeongin.

“I'm sorry,” you lowered your gaze to the ground, not wanting to hold eye contact. “I don't want to intrude, I'll be leaving so you don't have to worry.”

The last part of your sentence was directed at the lanky boy who merely scoffed, but cowered under the glare Chan sent him. Running his hand through his greasy hair, he mumbled, “that'd probably be for the best.”

Suddenly, a loud crash reverberated through the air, causing you all to look back at the gas station. 

“Shit,” Chan cursed under his breath upon seeing a man with a rifle run towards you. “We have to go. Now.”

Grabbing you by the arm, he opened the back door of the truck before shoving you in, jumping in behind you, and sliding into the driver's seat. Slamming his foot on the gas pedal, the engine roared to life and the vehicle shook before finally moving forward.

“Are those skip tracers?” Jisung screeched, craning his neck to look out the window. “No,” Chan snorted. “It's Ronald McDonald… Of course, it's the skip tracers!”

He shot Chan a half-baked glare before turning around, his fingers gripping around his seat. “Are you okay, Min?”

It was only then that you noticed the young boy, maybe a couple of years younger than you, curled under a blanket. He was wearing what you assumed used to be a Power Rangers graphic tee and a pair of faded sweats.

Peering at Jisung from under his lashes, he nodded breathlessly, bracing himself as the loud sound richoteered through the air.

The first gunshot popped like a firecracker.

It was loud and piercing, but it wasn't aimed at you. Almost like a warning. The second shot, however, pierced through the back and the bullet exited the minivan from the front window.

A groan tore from Chan's mouth as he swerved the van, turning to the right in hopes of losing whoever was behind you. One of the glass panels shattered into tiny pieces, and you had to put your hands above your head in order to protect your eyes.

“Is there a freaking skip tracer convention around here? Why are there so many of them?” Jisung wheezed, frustration enveloping him as he turned around to face you. “You know, this is kind of your fault. They never would've latched onto us if—”

“Jisung,” Chan cut him off, glowering. “It's not her fault, okay. They pulled up when both of us were in the store.”

The argument was cut off when yet another bullet pierced through the van, flying right above your head. You didn't even register the scream that left your parted lips. Chan turned around, eyes filled with concern as he bit his lower lip.

He furrowed his brows as if pondering before he parted his lips to ask, “do you know how to ride a bike?”

You peered at him, utterly confused as you slowly nodded your head. Your dad had taught you when you were about seven, a mere three years before you got taken to camp, and you supposed you still remembered something.

“Y-Yeah, why?”

His lips curled into a grin, eyes brightening as he swerved the minivan. Your hands sprung up to brace yourself from hitting your head against the window. “Well, driving a car is almost the same. And I need to you take the captain's seat.”

No. You were about to protest, half a dozen of arguments against you driving springing up in your head but it appeared that you didn't have a say in the matter. He slammed his foot on the brake, the vehicle coming to a halting stop and he undid his seatbelt.

“It's really simple—left foot is the break, right is the gas. You just need to steer with the wheel, okay?”

His strong arms wrapped around your torso, squashing any remaining objections at the tip of your tongue as he lifted you from the back of the van, lowering you into the driver's seat, too gently considering the fact that you had a bunch of armed men trailing behind you.

“Okay, I'll need you to go. Now, Green!” he urged, nearly stumbling back as your right foot hit the pedal. “Great! Now keep going.”

The adrenalin coursing through your veins matched the rapid beating of your heart as your clammy hands gripped the steering wheel. In the rearview mirror, you could see Chan opening the back doors of the van.

You were about to question what the hell he was doing, putting himself in so much danger, but Jisung beat you to it. “What the fuck are you doing, Chan? This is insane…” his voice eventually trailed off into nothingness. You had almost forgotten he was there.

“Don't worry,” he chuckled, rolling up the sleeves of his button-down. “I got it.”

You didn't know what he meant by “it” until you looked back up into the rearview mirror to see a giant tree hurling through the air, effectively blocking off the van behind you. All done with a flick of his wrist.

It then hit you; Chan was a Blue.

You have never witnessed one use their abilities to this extent, not to mention showing a sliver of control over the newfound powers. The most you had seen were the small group that tried to rebel when you were brought to camp, and that was now over six years ago.

Slamming the door shut, Chan returned to the front seat, patting you on the shoulder.

“See. I knew you'd do a great job.”

You lifted your hand from the steering wheel to smack him on the arms. An exaggerated cry left his lips as you grunted, “that was nothing like riding a bike!”

“Okay, okay. But you did a great job,” his lips formed another smile, this one even brighter than the previous one. “Perhaps you can be our permanent driver.”

“No way,” you shook your head, unable to stop the corners of your lips tugging upwards. “Why couldn't he drive,” you pointed to Jisung who was still curled up in the passenger's seat, the round spectacles nearly falling off his nose.

“Not a chance—Sung can't see more than a few feet in front of him. Trust me, you wouldn't want him driving us, darlin'.”

You nearly did a double-take at the term of endearment, heat rising to your cheeks as you concentrated on the road, praying that he didn't notice. 

He leaned over the seat, his head right behind yours and you could've sworn you felt his breath fan your neck. “Alright, you have to be careful—they blew out the back tire so you're driving on the rim. You can pull up on that gas station over there—” he pointed to the right.

Jisung managed to squeeze himself through the tiny gap between the two seats, climbing over them with a grunt. 

“Are you okay, Min?” he asked, voice gentle and sweet—nothing like the way he talked to you or Chan. Your eyes flickered upwards, straining your neck to see the young boy to whom Jisung was talking to.

“Oh, right,” Chan rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “We haven't really introduced ourselves, have we?”

Slamming your foot on the brake pedal, the vehicle came to a stop, tucked behind a row of trees. You turned around to face the three, smoothing down the creases of your uniform as you replied, “Yeah. Well, I'm Y/N, nice to meet you.”

Chan chuckled at your attempt to curtsy while seated, running his hand through his hair before he held it out to you. “Well nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Chan, as you may have heard, and the cranky one behind me is Jisung.”

Said boy gave you a simple nod as his hands continued to run through the younger boy's tangled locks. “And this lovely guy is Seungmin, our little lightbulb.”

It took you a few seconds to comprehend what he meant. Yellow. He was a Yellow. You supposed that was the reason why there was a pair of bright yellow rubber gloves on his hands.

“How long have you guys been traveling together?” you asked, using your hand to prop yourself up from the driver's seat, trading places with Chan. A grim expression took over his face, but it quickly passed, replaced with a bashful smile.

“We just broke out of camp a few weeks ago. We're searching for Yellow Wood.”

Upon seeing the confusion on your face, he questioned, “you haven't heard of it?”

But you didn't hear him, your face had gone completely blank when he mentioned the three of them escaping camp as if it was something normal. Memories of your own escape—the one that was made possible only because of Jeongin—flooded your mind. His eyes… the empty stare he gave you once you accidentally wiped all traces of yourself from his memories… it all came rushing back.

“Y-You managed to break out? How many of you?”

Chan's brows furrowed as he seemingly pondered, “Maybe around two dozen? I'm not really sure, we just ran for our lives…”

Your mouth parted in shock and you nodded, strands of hair falling over your face as you let the information sink in. Two dozen. How was that even possible? You barely managed to get out of there in one piece, so how did they manage to escape in such a large group?

“What about you?” Jisung suddenly asked, pushing his glasses up his nose. His arms were crossed and the expression on his face was unreadable—nearly a perfect poker face. “How did you escape?”

Almost immediately, you shrank, curling yourself into a ball. You avoided his gaze and instead looked out the window, trying to blink away the tears that were gathering in the corners of your eyes. “I-I–” the words got caught in your throat as you gulped, clutching onto the sleeves of your uniform.

Chan noticed the way you seemed to want the ground to swallow you alive, grabbing your hand with his warm one and giving it a reassuring squeeze. His eyes were clouded with apprehension as if he understood why you didn't want to talk about it.

He gave Jisung a dirty look, pursing his lips and shaking his head. “Don't,” he mouthed.

His friend shrugged in response. “Is it so weird that I want to know something about her if she's going to travel with us for some time?”

Rolling his eyes, the older male opened the door, turning to you to say, “do you want to get some fresh air? I have to change the tire anyways…”

Wiping your eyes with your sleeve, you nodded, jumping out of the van and nearly stumbling to the ground. For the next five minutes, you watched Chan flick his wrist and take out the bolts before taking out the tire. When you asked if you can help, he waved you off with a smile so you opted to sit down and watch him work.

It was somewhat surreal to see him in action; it was clear that he had a lot of practice to be able to perfect his moves like this. And what was the most noteworthy was definitely the contrast between manipulating such small objects versus hauling a large tree from the forest. Unlike before, he wasn't using raw strength and power. He was relying on skill and precision, elegantly twirling his hand in the air.

“I'm sorry for Jisung,” Chan's voice cut through the silence, followed by a quiet grunt as he stood up and wiped his palms into the rough material of his jeans. “It takes him some time to warm up to strangers but he really doesn't mean any harm.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled under your breath. “I know. And it's understandable that he's so hostile towards me—he clearly cares about you guys and wants to make sure you're all safe.”

A chuckle escaped his lips as he grabbed the spare tire from the back with a groan. Your caught sight of the way his muscles bulged under the fitted shirt, heat rising to your cheeks causing you to look away.

“He has his own ways of showing he cares.”

𝚡𝟶𝟾𝚡

After successfully replacing the tire, Chan ushered you back into the van and claimed his rightful spot behind the wheel. You weren't really sure where you were headed, nor did you feel too comfortable prying about their destination, so you opted to quietly sit back and watch the fields transform into forests and the Sun bleed into the sky.

Some time passed, it could be anything between twenty minutes and two hours—you didn't really keep track—before you finally began to see some forms of life. 

Chan took his hand off the wheel to crank up the radio, switching up between stations before he stopped, the first seconds of one of your favorite songs beginning to play. A smile appeared on your lips as you bobbed your head to the melody.

To your utter surprise, Chan began to sing along with so much passion you had to hold in a snort. He was purposefully exaggerating the lyrics and balling his hand into a fist to mimic a microphone causing you to giggle while Jisung could only roll his eyes.

The way he sang, despite obviously not taking himself seriously, was captivating. You realized that you really loved his voice—powerful, yet at the same time soft and tender. Towards the end of the song, the urge to join him overcame you as you began singing the outro together.

“You're here, there's nothing I fear And I know that my heart will go on…” you belted, surprisingly well for someone who never had any sort of vocal training in their life. You got so into it that you didn't realize Chan stopped singing, watching you have your little moment.

You were really pretty when you sang, he noted.

Once the last words left your parted lips, you gently closed your eyes, taking a deep breath before sighing contently. When you parted your lids to look around, you found that all three guys were looking at you, your skin crawling and the heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.

Their reactions were encompassing a wide range of emotions—from Jisung's raised eyebrow to Seungmin's almost aloof expression. Lastly, Chan was looking at you with what could only be described as fondness which caused you to look away shyly.

His eyes were nearly glassy, overtaken with awe and joy that began to seep through his veins. A charming laugh left his lips as he refocused his gaze back on the road, his mouth curling into a mellow smile.

After a while, he spoke up with a teasing glint. “Didn't expect your throat to pack such a powerful voice?” You pouted, playfully hitting his arm as he yelped. “You pack a powerful punch too!”

After that, the four of you simply indulged in the rare, peaceful silence that was accompanied by only the occasional song from the radio that Chan deemed to fit the vibe. It was nearly nighttime when he pulled up into the parking lot of an old, run-down motel.

“Stay inside,” his tone was unyielding. “I'll go check if the place is safe.”

With that, he jumped out of the car, briskly pacing towards the back entrance to scope out the area and any possible danger. You turned around to face Jisung, worry on your face.

“Does he do this often? Just leave and walk straight into the lion's den on his own?”

“Yeah,” his face relaxed and a more impassive expression took over his features as he gazed out the window. “He's always making sure that we're safe and all, yadi yada…”

But you could tell that despite his attempts to look like he was annoyed by his actions, Jisung was secretly grateful. When he thought you weren't looking, he but down on his lower lip, body tensing. He was nervous, you could tell.

Just like you were…

It felt like an eternity when you heard Chan's footsteps crunch against the asphalt. Your head shot up, a wave of relief washing over you as you saw his familiar figure head back towards you.

When Chan noticed you watching him, he shot you a wink, causing your insides to burn as you quickly plastered your gaze onto your hands in your lap. His head suddenly appeared right in front of your face as he leaned in through the open window.

“C'mon, the coast is clear.”

You tried your hardest not to stare when you noticed just how broad his shoulders were—they wouldn't even fit through the car window for God's sake!

A loud cough interrupted your train of thought as Jisung gave you a knowing look. Spluttering, you stumbled out of the car, nearly tripping over the uneven ground in the process. “Woah, careful there,” Chan's arms wrapped around your waist to steady you, helping you stand on your own two feet. “T-Thanks.”

The three of you followed the eldest's lead as he made his way through the back gate but not without his hand reaching back to hold a few of the unruly branches from hitting you in the face.

“Hey! How come she gets preferential treatment and we don't?” Jisung whined from behind you, oblivious to the warming of your cheeks. Once you finally reached the shabby motel, Chan led you towards the room on the very left, reaching for something under the mat. 

Before you could ask any questions, he pulled out a single key, inserted it in the lock, and twisted it. A satisfying click sounded in the air as the smell of mold and wet socks filled your nostrils.

“Ladies first,” he motioned for you to go with an exaggerated bow causing you to chuckle. “Why thank you.”

Once you entered, you had to block out your ears since Jisung shrieked at the sight of the bathroom that was stocked up with basic hygiene supplies.

“Finally! I can shave my mustache,” he groaned, plopping himself on one of the two twin beds. A grumble escaped your lips. “Yeah sure, like you have one.”

You thought that no one heard you but a muffled sound from behind you told a different story. “Make sure he doesn't hear you say that,” Chan cackled, throwing himself on the faded armchair across the bed.

After Jisung and Seungmin took turns showering, it must've been near midnight. Exhaustion had overtaken your body as you gazed at the bathroom door, your lids fluttering.

“Don't you wanna go?” Chan suddenly questioned, motioning towards the shower. You turned your head to face him. “Y-Yeah, I'll go but I thought you should go first…”

“It's okay, I can tell you're pretty tired,” he gave you a soft smile. “I'll wait up for you.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, feeling gratitude fill your insides as you stumbled into the bathroom. Immediately, the flickering lightbulb greeted you with a series of light bursts, causing your head to spin. You steadied yourself against the counter, hands gripping onto the granite as you fought off the initial dizziness. A long continuous crack stretched across the mirror, reaching all the way to the upper right corner.

As you gleefully shed your camp uniform, a chill ran down your spine—likely from the AC that was blasted above your head. You hastily stepped into the shower, a blissful sigh leaving your lips as you finally washed the physical remains of camp off your body.

Once you stepped out of the tub, a grim realization hit you: you would have to put these nasty clothes back on…

You were seriously contemplating sleeping in your undergarments when suddenly, a knock sounded against the plywood.

“Come in,” you mumbled after clumsily wrapping a towel around your body. 

The door creaked open as a blushing Chan stuck his head through the doorway. His ears were completely red as his eyes jumped across the room, trying not to stare.

“Uhm so I realized that you, uh, that you didn't have any clothes to change into,” he murmured, voice rising an octave higher towards the end. You nodded in encouragement for him to continue. “So I, uh well… I thought you'd maybe– I have a spare shirt!”

After an awkward pause, he added, “I know it isn't much and you obviously don't have to if you're uncomfortable, but I figured you'd be more comfortable sleeping in something clean rather than your camp uniform.”

The heat rose to your cheeks as you stared at his hand in which he nervously clutched the piece of fabric. It truly was a sweet gesture but for some reason, you were completely tongue-tied.

After another beat of silence, Jisung grumbled, “Y/N, just take the damn shirt and put him out of his misery.”

“Shut up, Sung,” the blush had reached his neck now, intensifying when he heard you giggle.

“You got a way with the ladies, man. You gotta teach me your moves someday, pal.”

By now, you were convulsing with laughter. Despite the sarcasm dripping from his tone, this was the happiest Jisung had seemed all day. Even Seungmin seemed to crack a smile.

After the laughter had died down, your face filled with concern as you reached toward Chan's extended hand. “A-Are you sure I can take it? Won't you need it to sleep?”

“Ah, it's okay,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I sleep shirtless anyway.”

Now it was your turn to become flustered. Pushing away thoughts of a shirtless Chan, you gripped at the shirt, mumbling your thanks. And before you could chicken out, you leaned in and pressed a small kiss to his cheek.

It was too late for you to do anything about it but you already regretted your actions when the door shut. A sigh escaped your lips as you wondered on a scale of one to ten, how much did you fuck up.

“You're such a damn idiot,” you whispered to yourself, pulling on your underwear and slipping into the garment. Immediately, you were enveloped by warmth as the soft cotton material reached the top of your thighs, grazing against the sensitive flesh.

When you emerged from the bathroom, towel wrapped around your hair, Chan's brain was going into overdrive as he fought the urge to look at you for longer than was appropriate. Running past you with burning cheeks, he locked himself in the bathroom where he finally allowed a breath of relief to escape his lips.

It had been a while since he felt like this.

Jumping into the shower, he turned the faucet all the way, hoping that the icy water would rid him of his crude thoughts. But who could blame him? He was still, at his core, a teenager, and just like any other, the hormones were currently rampant inside of him. And no amount of camp and survival would change that.

When he finally stepped out of the shower, he grabbed the last towel from the top shelf and used it to pat himself dry. After sliding on his boxers, he brushed his teeth, grimacing at the sting of the old, peppermint toothpaste. 

Glancing back at the mirror, he took a proper look at himself for the first time in a couple of months. The sight that greeted him wasn't all that pretty. Between the cracks in the glass and the condensation from the water, he could make out the general shape of his face littered with all kinds of scratches and bruises—some of them from camp while others from fighting PSFs or running away from them. The long cut under his jaw was from a sharp tree branch that catapulted at his face while they were running through the woods. There was another wound that called for his attention, specifically, the gash that ran against his lower abdomen. Gently touching the smooth creamy skin, a wince tore past his lips, the recollections of the skip tracer attack still fresh in his memory.

Throwing the towel over his shoulders, he walked out of the bathroom, sighing as the less damp air of the bedroom hit him. A fond smile crossed his face when he noticed Jisung and Seungmin curled up in one of the beds. They looked so calm and peaceful, he was happy they'd finally get some well-deserved rest.

His brows furrowed—where were you?

Scanning the room, he found that the second bed was empty so his eyes gazed across it. Just as he was about to panic (who knows, Jisung could've annoyed you into leaving), he noticed a limb peeking from around the corner. He quietly stalked up to the bed, worry washing over him as he noticed you curled up with your back against the bed frame.

You fell asleep on the floor.

Lowering himself to your level, he gently wiped away the bit of drool from the corner of your mouth, chuckling at the display. His hands slid under your body as he hoisted you up, laying you on the bed before pulling the cover over your body. 

He smiled as you immediately curled yourself into the sheets. You looked like you were in need of a proper rest too. Just as he was about to lower himself onto the ground, he felt a tug at his hand. 

“Y/N?” he questioned, unsure of what to do. “Where are you going?” you murmured, your lids fluttering. He wasn't even sure if you were properly awake. 

Crouching down beside the bed, his hand reached to push the hair away from your forehead, “it's okay, you can go back to sleep.”

“But what about you? Where will you sleep?”

He chuckled, “don't worry about me, I'm used to sleeping on the floor.”

Your lashes fluttered open, “s-stay. You can sleep with me.”

Even in the darkness, you didn't miss how Chan's face went beet red. It was the waking up that you needed to realize what you had said. Once you did, a wave of embarrassment washed over you, causing you to stutter, “I-I didn't mean it like t-that! I wanted to say that, uh, that…” the words got caught in your throat, much to Chan's newfound delight.

“What is it, darlin'? How did you mean it then?”

“Well,” you slowly sat up, suddenly feeling a bit bold as you patted the space next to you. “There's enough room for the both of us is what I'm trying to say.”

Chan felt like his heart was about to leap out of his chest at your confession, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks. After making sure that you really didn't mind, he carefully lowered himself onto the mattress, a blissful sigh escaping his lips as his back made contact with the mattress.

“Don't think I've slept on one of those in years,” he groaned, sliding under the covers. It was only when you felt his skin against yours that you realized what he mentioned earlier. He slept only in his undergarments. You two were sharing a bed.

Well… fuck.

But it was too late to do anything now, besides, you'd gladly keep yourself in check if it meant that Chan would get to sleep on a bed instead of the cold hard floor. Not to mention that the presence of someone next to you was somewhat calming, and perhaps it would help soothe your nerves and stop any impending nightmares.

Yeah… you wouldn't mind being spared those.

It didn't take long for your body to start feeling heavy. In your half-asleep state, you managed to grab onto Chan's hand, entwining your fingers with his as the clutches of a deep slumber finally grabbed ahold of you.

And although Chan's heart was beating like crazy, it didn't take him much longer to doze off after you.

𝚡𝟶𝟿𝚡

The following morning, Chan woke up to an empty bed. He panicked, patting down the space next to him to realize, in horror, that you truly were gone. Jumping out of bed and throwing on a pair of pants and a jacket, he rushed through the front door throwing caution out the window as he called your name.

“Hey, Y/N,” he sighed after finally spotting you. You were sitting on the steps, just a few yards away from the edge of the parking lot that blended in with the forest. When you turned your head, your lips formed a gentle smile as you waved him over.

“What are you doing out here?” Chan paned after having run, plopping next to you onto the concrete. “Aren't you cold?”

You chuckled when he skeptically eyed you after you shook your head, clearly not buying it. “Here,” he shrugged off his leather jacket, throwing it over your shoulders. “You're shivering.”

Too tired to argue with him, you accepted it with a quiet 'thanks'. The two of you sat next to each other in silence, occasionally bumping shoulders before Chan finally spoke up.

“Did you sleep alright? You, uhm, you tossed around a lot…”

Fiddling with your thumbs, you murmured, “yeah. I woke up in the middle of the night and I couldn't fall asleep for a bit. But I'm fine, thanks for asking.”

“O-Okay.” A beat of silence followed. “You didn't have any nightmares, though, did you?”

“Surprisingly, I didn't. Must've been the first time in weeks.”

Chan's heart filled with concern as he watched you slouch down, pressing your nails into the palm of your hand. The somber timbre of your tone wasn't missed on him and he recalled how despondent you seemed when Jisung tried to hammer out of you some details from West Creek.

 “I-Is it… is it because of camp?” he gulped, nearly wanting to face-plant himself for asking such a stupid question. “You don't have to say anything if you don't feel like it,” he quickly added, biting his lower lip in desperation before continuing, “but if you need someone to vent to… a shoulder to cry on– what I'm trying to say is that I'll gladly listen. T-That's only if you'd like, of course.”

Gulping down, his eyes were trained on you as he tried to gouge your reaction after having failed miserably at being tactful. You, on the other hand, appreciative of the gesture, simply chuckled.

“Honestly, I'm not sure if I have much to share. West Creek was Hell on Earth, but after living there for what– over six years, I got used to it.” Taking a deep breath, you continued, “There was one person who made it bearable for me… my friend Jeongin. It didn't matter what would happen, Jeongin always had my back.”

By the time you got to talking about your friend, a single tear rolled down your cheek. Chan noticed it, heart shattering at the sight. “Sounds like a great guy,” he murmured, thumbing away the wetness from the apple of your cheek.

“Y-Yeah. He always took care of those around him and stood up for the weakest. Until one day, he found out that they'd be sending away all Yellows—that's when he came to tell me we had to leave.”

A wave of melancholy washed over Chan, the grief in the air now thick enough that he could cut it with a knife. “And I assume you were the only one who made it out… right?”

Unconsciously, your hand clutched onto his as a fresh wave of tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. “Y-Yeah. He pushed me through the gate. He saved my life, Chan, even if it was him that was in danger.”

By now, you were nearly sobbing and Chan's arms had encircled your body, pulling you onto his lap. “There there,” he whispered, his voice managing to soothe you. “It's not your fault, you know? You're safe now so don't worry. I'll protect you… I'll protect all of you.”

Clutching onto his shirt, you whimpered, “I'm so sorry, Chan. I know under how much stress you already must be with wanting to keep Jisung and Seungmin safe. I-I'm just dead weight to you… I-I promise I'll detach myself from you guys soon—”

��Nu-uh,” Chan interrupted, stopping your breathless rambling with a finger pressed to your lips. “There's no way I'm letting you just go, darlin'—we're stronger in numbers, remember?”

When you meekly nodded, he sighed, “we're all headed to Yellow Wood and we plan on taking you there too.”

Upon seeing the visible confusion etched onto your face, he continued, “it's a safe haven for us PSIs lead by the Slip Kid. He's been escaping authorities for over a year now and Yellow Wood is his latest project—a camp led by and for us. Colors don't matter there, all of us just do our share and we get back everything we need—food, shelter, a sense of community.”

Noticing the way you stared at him wide-eyed, he blushed, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “A-At least that's what the rumors say. It's supposedly a safe haven. Not to mention that if you want to find out about your friend, Jeongin, right?” his lips stretched into a wide smile, “Yellow Wood is the place to go to. Apparently, they can trace anyone.”

For the first time in ages, you felt something new bubbling up inside of your chest. Hope. “Do you really think so? T-That he'll be able to find Jeongin?”

Chan nodded. “Yeah. I'm sure of it.”

The conviction in his voice, paired with the sparkle in his eyes made you feel like he actually believed it. And this conviction of his had managed to transfer onto you as you hugged him one more time, burring your head into the crook of his neck.

“Thank you, Chan.”

Your peaceful moment of tranquility was suddenly interrupted by a loud cough. Both you and Chan nearly jumped up in surprise and you were greeted by two figures standing behind you.

“Sorry to interrupt your, uh, private times,” Jisung snorted, hands shoved in his pocket as he circled around you two before plopping down on the concrete, “but Seungmin wanted to give something to Y/N.”

Looking up from Chan, your eyes grew wide. “For me?”

Climbing up from your position seated on his lap, you tried not to think about how close and intimate that position was. Your cheeks were burning as you inhaled, instantaneously finding yourself missing the scent of his cologne.

Seungmin took a few steps towards you, his hands secured behind his back as he gave you a bright smile, one that showed off his white pearls. Your heart melted at the sight.

Then, he brought his hands forward, holding a clump of bright red fabric in front of you as you carefully examined it. Gently taking the item from him, you let the light drop, eyes widening at the display.

It was a beautiful red dress, one that seemed to flair at the waist, and you nearly felt tears pricking your eyes once again. It was weirdly cathartic to see such a nice piece of clothing after having been stuck in a nasty camp uniform for over half a decade.

Almost like a confirmation that things were truly looking up for you.

“Min found the dress a while ago when we were grabbing supplies from a local mall and held onto it,” Jisung explained, cutting off your inner swirling of emotions. “He thought that you'd maybe appreciate wearing something other than your clothes from camp.”

Your mouth tried to form a coherent response, but nothing came out, the words getting caught at the back of your throat. So instead, you gave him the brightest smile you could summon, barely managing to squeeze out a heartfelt “thank you”.

To your utter surprise, Seungmin parted his arms and enveloped you in a bone-shattering hug that made you feel all fuzzy on the inside. 

It was an out-of-world experience for Chan to watch the cordial interaction between you two. Even Jisung cracked a smile at the thought.

When you and the youngest finally parted, Jisung was surprisingly the one to speak up.

“I don't want to be a buzzkill or anything, but we should probably be going. We aren't sure who's around and it might be dangerous to stay any longer.”

Chuckling, Chan gave him a hard pat on the back as he slowly got up, the muscles in his arms flexing. “Not usual for you to be the voice of reason, Sung.”

The younger one flushed, irritation washing over his face. “Shut up! I'm supposed to be the smart one here, remember.”

“Yeah sure, whatever,” Chan replied nonchalantly, which in turn only angered Jisung more.

“You think you're all that just because you're taller and have some muscles, don't you?”

By now, Chan was full-on laughing at the exchange, inhaling to catch his breath. “Seriously? Do you wanna have this conversation now when I can deadlift twice your weight in a heartbeat?”

That didn't seem to stop Jisung as he muttered under his breath, “muscle pig.”

Another chorus of laughter ensued as the four of you made your way back to the minivan where you changed into the dress. It was around 10 in the morning, the sky was clear with no clouds in sight, which meant that it was the perfect time to start your journey.

“The dress– uh, you look really pretty in it,” Chan suddenly commented, the tips of his ears turning red. You giggled in delight, twirling around so you could watch the skirt spin.

“Thank you. Haven't worn one since I was ten.”

“It seems really formal though. I feel like I should ask you to prom or something…”

“Yeah,” Jisung snorted, “like she'd ever go with you.”

You rolled your eyes at the playful banter, feeling warmth seep into your veins. The more time you spent with the three, the more you wanted to stay.

And that was dangerous.

You shouldn't get attached. 

Suddenly, a loud thud resonated through the air, causing you to flinch. A black pickup truck parked a few yards away from you and a middle-aged couple walked out. Chan immediately assumed a protective stance, stepping in front of the three of you, as if wanting to shield you with his own body.

The couple scanned the area, their gazes promptly falling onto your little group. Perhaps it was the way he was glaring at them with pure venom in his eyes, or maybe they just happened to be decent people who didn't grab and turn in every kid they saw for the large cash prize, but they only gave you guys a one over before walking away, no sings of pursuing the reward money.

“We should go,” Chan murmured, ushering you into the minivan as he jumped into the driver's seat, the engine roaring to life.

𝚡𝟷𝟶𝚡

The following two hours were spent in silence as Chan turned off the radio ten minutes into the drive. You could tell that something was bothering him.

“Are you okay?” you bit your lower lip, hand reaching to his shoulders. His body tensed at the touch before eventually relaxing into your hold, a sigh escaping his lips.

“Y-Yeah, just a bit tired.”

A sudden burst of energy enveloped you, like a mist, it swirled around you until it took a shape. Your heart was beating when you realized what it was—a picture. Or more like a vision; it was still slightly blurry but you could make out the general shape of it.

Once the fog set, it finally hit you—the reason the setting seemed so familiar. It was a camp, a different one from West Creek but a camp nonetheless. There were people, kids, running around. No. Running away—they were all running in one direction—towards the fence.

“Everyone, run!” a boy shouted, raising his arms to lift the kids over the fence. It was Chan, you realized. A loud round of gunshots blasted through the air as you watched someone run out from one of the cabins, holding a small child in their hand.

Jisung, it struck you. He was saving Seungmin.

Another loud bang sounded, this time, a lot closer than before. Everything was in slow motion, Chan's head snapping as his jaw went slack, a scream tearing from his throat. And then it all disappeared.

“Is everything okay?” Chan questioned concernedly, his gaze flickering back and forth from the road to you. It seemed like time ran a lot faster when you got into this state when you could see other people's memories, but it didn't stop you from flinching.

“Yeah,” you murmured, hastily retracting your hand. “I'm fine.”

Lies. You weren't fine. And Chan knew it, his lips pressing into a thin line but he didn't push you, instead choosing to focus on the road. Unknown to you, Jisung was staring intently at the exchange, his eyes flashing with understanding.

So that's how it was…

You were staring out the window as you contemplated the scene that had just unfolded in front of your eyes.

You were sure it had something to do with your powers as an Orange—nonetheless, you still didn't have those under control so it was hard to navigate what had exactly happened. It seemed like it was a memory of Chan's, something that was weighing down on him for some time now. You wondered if the person shot was a close friend of his, if so, that would explain why he was holding on to this painful memory.

The four of you continued to ride in silence, Seungmin letting out an occasional snore as the landscape began to drastically change in front of your eyes. Gone were the lengthy fields and crops, slowly replaced by more industrial terrain.

Instead of watching wheat and flowers, you were greeted with crumbling factories, old barns, and the outskirts of a more rural town began to paint the view from behind the glass window. You couldn't quite decide if that was a good thing or not.

When a run-down gas station slowly appeared in your peripheral vision, Chan hit the breaks, swerving the car into the right lane.

 “We should go there and see if we can siphon some gas. We're running pretty low.”

𝚡𝟷𝟷𝚡

Nearly a week had passed since you joined Chan, Jisung, and Seungmin on their quest to find the so-called haven—Yellow Wood. Your journey so far had been stripped of any grave dangers, save for the time you ran into a skip tracer while parked on the side of the highway. Luckily, Chan had managed to fling his device away into the woods before he could log into the skip tracer network and post his sightings.

And without what he likely considered his strongest weapon—his way to communicate with other tracers—he chose to slowly walk away, fear evident in his eyes.

Chan was now pulling over at a local mall that was just off the main road, the engine grunting as he parallel parked behind a cluster of trees, hoping that the leaves would at least provide a little bit of protection.

“Are we ready?” he questioned, turning around to face Jisung and Seungmin sprawled in the back with a grin. “Yeah, let's hope we don't run into any skip tracers.”

The four of you walked towards the main entrance, or rather—what used to be the main entrance. The neon sign above the glass doors was crooked, clearly not having been used in ages, and the gate itself was no longer functioning, the glass having been broken in with a sharp object.

The smell of rotten milk and processed food hits you in the face full force as you step through the entry, mindful of the sharded glass on the floor.

“Ugh,” Jisung groaned pinching his nose, the noise coming out more nasally than usual. “This fucking reeks.”

“Language,” Chan reprimanded, furrowing his eyebrows. “We don't want Seungmin to have your potty mouth.”

Jisung shot him a pointed glare but Chan was already a few feet ahead, walking towards the food section. Picking up a bag of candy from the lowest shelf, he grinned. “Grab whatever you deem edible. We should stock up on goods while we can.”

That's when your little group split up, each of you going in a different direction as you grabbed whatever you could get your hands on.

You were in one of the last aisles, standing on your tippy-toes as your hand extended towards the uppermost shelf. A groan slipped past your lips as your fingers managed to only push away the small box of Pocky instead of grabbing it.

“Need any help?” a breathy voice suddenly whispered into your ear, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. “C-Chan, God… you scared me!”

He chuckled in reply, his eyes flicking upwards to scan the shelf. “You want the Pocky?”

When you nodded, he pressed himself closer to you, his chest going flush against your back as his arm stretched towards the paper box. “Here you go,” he handed it to you, not noticing the way the heat rose to your cheeks. “Thanks!”

“No problem. My arms are really long so I'm glad I could help,” he supplied with a grin, grabbing a tube of Oreos for himself. “Let's go catch up with the other two.”

The four of you gather by the soft drinks aisle, Jisung grabbing a few bottles of Mountain Dew for himself. When Chan asked him what he'd need this much energy for, Jisung shot him a glare, muttering a few curses under his breath.

“Is there anything else we need?” you poked Chan in the side, struggling to hold the heaps of food in your arms. “We should probably look around the mall to see if they have any other useful items,” his hand shot out to catch the KitKat that was about to fall from the top of your little food pile. “It would be nice to find some clean clothes, maybe even a blanket or so.”

A small nudge to your back made you turn around, only to find out that Seungmin had brought back a shopping cart from the other side of the store. “Thank you, Min,” your hand reached out to ruffle his hair, dropping all your items inside. “My arms were beginning to hurt.”

Jisung placed his energy drinks in the cart with a breath of relief, pushing it towards the exit of the grocery store. You made your way through most of the shopping mall, looking for a store that seemed at least somewhat intact but to no avail. It wasn't until you reached an old hypermarket all the way in the back did you find what you needed.

“Finally!” Jisung groaned, leaving the shopping cart stranded in the middle of the entrance as he ran towards the section relatively filled with clothing and home decor. “I can get some fresh underwear!”

While he headed off to the undergarments section with Seungmin nervously trailing behind him, you and Chan made your way towards the blankets and sheets. 

“Oh my God!” you screeched once you rounded the corner, placing your hand in front of your mouth in shock. “Is everything okay?” Chan ran up to you, placing his hands around your waist from behind. “Oh.”

A sea of beds were arranged in front of you, a massive clearance of the store being dedicated towards bedroom furniture. “This is amazing,” you whispered, eyes flying from one side to the other, unsure of where to go.

When Chan turned to you with a grin, you knew something was up. His lips were curved into a mischievous smile, one that signaled that he was about to do something big, eyes twinkling. “C'mon,” he grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the sea of beds. “How long has it been since you jumped on a trampoline?”

Hand in hand, both of you ran at full speed before jumping in the air, landing on the first bed. A chorus of laughter echoed through the empty store as you leaped from one bed to another, giggling like little kids. A burst of energy flew through you when you saw the massive King's bed, the gap between it and the one you were on currently a lot larger than the distances you've jumped over so far.

Placing your other hand on Chan's bicep, you motioned towards the prized piece of furniture, lips curved into a playful smile. His eyes widened in bewilderment as he shook his head, “that's way too far. We'll end up smothered on the ground.”

Despite him usually being the voice of reason, something inside of you didn't want to comply. Instead, you clutched onto his palm tightly as you made a run for it, leaping over the rift between the two beds.

“What the hell?” the curse flipped past Chan's lips but it was already too late. He landed on the bed on his back with a thud, your own body toppling over his as his hands reached to steady you at your waist.

“Shit! Are you okay?” you breathed out, using your hands to push yourself off of him in hopes of not smothering him. Chan bit his lip, something dark flashing in his eyes as pulled you back onto him.

“I don't know, are you okay?”

Your heart was beating so fast you were afraid it would leap out of your chest, heat rising to your cheeks as you felt Chan's toned body right under you. Your hands were curled into his t-shirt and your eyes flew from one place to another, not wanting to look into his eyes.

His hand suddenly cupped your cheek as he steered you so that you were looking him in the eye. “Is everything alright?”

You whimpered, “y-yeah, I'm fine.”

Chan smiled so brightly that you for a second thought he was the Sun, somehow managing to reassure you without having to utter a single word. His touch was as delicate as silk, and you could feel his breath fanning against your lips. You shivered at the foreign sensation, leaning into his soft caresses as his hand slid from your cheek to your waist.

“C-Can I… can I kiss you?”

Breathlessly, you nodded, closing your eyes as you felt him press his lips against yours. Almost as if fireworks had exploded in you, you felt your insides burst with love, excitement, and affection, feelings you knew were dangerous.

Your hands curled into Chan's hair, gently tugging at the locks causing him to groan. Your lips danced together as you found a steady rhythm, a shiver running down your spine when he alternated the way his lips moved, applying more pressure.

You felt like you were on cloud nine, all your thoughts turning into mush as Chan continued to kiss you with so much fervor it made you dizzy. His hand was now cupping your waist, pulling you closer to him as his lips devoured yours.

Suddenly, a loud thump echoing through the store made you two part, breaking off the heated kiss. You exchanged worried glances as you somewhat awkwardly slumped down from the bed, slowly sneaking back towards the source of the loud noise. Chan protectively extended his arm to the back to cover you, sweat beginning to line his forehead.

Why was everything suddenly so quiet?

The silence was nerve-wracking, giving you the feeling that there was someone out there. And to confirm your darkest fears, a loud set of footsteps sounded. This time, much closer to you than before.

Suddenly, you felt a strange force tug you up, your limbs flailing like a ragdoll. You let out a choked scream feeling the air getting knocked out of your lungs. Then, you felt warmth envelop you, covering you like a blanket.

You opened your eyes to see your hands digging into Chan's back as his strong arms encased you, circling around your shoulders. A second passed. Two seconds. You were hanging in the air with Chan's arms wrapped around you, bewildered and afraid.

What was going on?

“C-Chan,” you whimpered, the sound raspy and coming from the back of your throat. “What's happening?”

“Shhh,” he pressed your head into the crook of his neck, scanning the area with a knowing glance. Then, almost wistfully, he whispered, “close your eyes.”

Just as your fluttering eyelids closed, you felt the force tug you upwards. Another breathless scream left your parted lips as you clung to Chan, feeling as if life was draining from your very being. Up, down, left, and right. These people had absolutely no qualms throwing you and Chan in every direction, the latter having to brace himself every time you two were flung into one of the metal shelves lined with bottles and cans.

“Fuck,” Chan whispered when a broken glass bottle slashed his arm, dousing the back of his shirt with whatever cheap beer was inside. “Don't you think that's enough, you assholes?!”

A chorus of boisterous laughter resonated through the store, causing anger to bubble up in his veins. The muscles in his back tensed as he balled his hands into fists, growling, “we're PSIs too, fuck's sake, so why don't you put us down and we can have a nice and civil discussion about this.”

As a response, you were thrown even higher in the air, the attacker spinning you a few times like a pinwheel. The insides of your stomach were churning as you coughed out, feeling as if you were going to pass out.

“What the fuck do you want from us, cowards? Let's settle this one-on-one, I'll fight you and we can see if you'll be so confident then you fucking bastards!” Chan bellowed, his grip on your shoulders tightening involuntarily.

Straining your ears, you picked up on the hushed whispers of a group of people—four, maybe five tops. Then, the somewhat deeper voice mumbled something, and the rest, albeit some begrudgingly, agreed with what he said, a breath of relief slipping from your mouth when you finally found yourself standing on the ground.

But you couldn't say that you were standing on your own two feet. Immediately as the soles of shoes made contact with the vinyl flooring, you felt yourself tumble, knees buckling under your weight.

“Shh, you're okay,” Chan instantly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest, affectionately patting the back of your head. “ 'M so dizzy,” you mumbled, feeling your consciousness slowly slip away. You felt as if someone had thrown you into the deep end and you were barely trying to get above the surface and keep yourself afloat.

But you were failing.

And Chan realized that too as he scanned his surroundings, making note of the fact that Seungmin and Jisung were hiding in one of the nearby aisles, the latter signaling that they were alert.

A shadow glimpsed in front of him, and Chan now knew their positions. If worse came to worse, he could probably handle a couple of them now that he knew their location, or at least hold them off for Seungmin to reach a source of electricity. 

That kid could be really scary when he wanted to…

“Are you gonna show yourselves?”

Almost reluctantly, the first one stepped forward, and to Chan's surprise, he found out that he knew him. His brow immediately shot up at the sight, confusion etched onto his face.

“Jeno?” he rasped, blinking to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. The boy smiled, eyes turning into crescent moons as he scanned his former roommate of approximately two months. “Chris? Is that really you?”

Chan nodded, mouth agape as everything slowly began to settle in his head. This guy—Jeno—was his bunkmate back when they first came to camp. They didn't stay together for too long though since a new surge of children flooded their tine camp and the PSFs had to rebuild all the cabins.

But his shock didn't last long, instead, rage filled him at the thought of someone he used to consider a friend turning into such a monster. He watched as one after the other, four more guys came out from behind him, dressed from head to toe in military gear and armed with various weapons.

Suddenly, one of them stepped forward, twirling a small dagger in his right hand. Even from a distance, Chan could see how sharp it was, the cheap, flickering supermarket light reflecting against the sharpened blade. Gently laying you against one of the shelves, he stepped forward, shielding you with his body.

“Not a step closer, do you understand?” he threatened, voice low and dripping with venom. The guy chuckled, tossing his blade in the air before catching it, his gaze never wavering.

“Why do you think you get to call the shots here? Last time I checked, we're at a clear advantage here since it's just you and the passed-out girl.” His lips curled into a sinister smirk. “Not that she'd be of much use anyway. Although I must say she's a real babe, I wonder how good her mouth is…”

A chorus of laughter followed as the group laughed at their leader's crude joke. Chan, on the other hand, didn't find it really amusing. Blood was boiling inside his veins, his hands balled into fists as he struggled to keep himself under control.

‘Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts,’ he kept repeating to himself like a mantra, hoping that if he said it enough times, the anger would disappear like a puff of smoke on a chilly day.

“Hey, hey,” Jeno's mellow voice suddenly cut through the air, “it's okay—I can vouch for him, cap'! He's cool. Not to mention he's strong as hell too—he was the one who broke us out of our camp.”

Upon hearing those words, the boy stilled, visibly pondering as he weighed out his options. It seemed like Jeno's reassurance had eased him though, his battle stance relaxing. Slipping the dagger back into his belt, he glanced back at Chan, his lips forming a crooked smile.

“It seems like one of my guys trusts you, so I'll let you go. You can grab whatever you need and stay one night but that's all that we'll allow.”

Chan almost wanted to remind him that they weren't the ones to arrive here first, therefore they had no reason to dictate who could and couldn't stay but he bit his tongue. There was no point arguing with them and realistically speaking, he doubted any of you wanted to stay here for longer than one night.

“Sure. We'll be gone first thing in the morning.”

𝚡𝟷𝟸𝚡

“Are you sure you don't want us to help?” Jisung asked once again as he trailed after Chan, Seungmin shuffling behind him. “You can put her down and go look for the meds while we watch her, you know?”

“No way,” Chan cut him off, his facial expression hardened into a mask of apathy. “I'm not leaving her anywhere.” His voice then took a somber tone, “you didn't hear what they said about her, did you?”

Jisung's gaze softened, “a-actually… I did. It was pretty awful, I know you want to protect her and make sure she's okay, but—”

“But what?” Chan cut him off, his pace quickening as he turned into the houseware aisle. “Why is there always a but with you, Jisung?”

The boy's eyes widened at his friend's harsh tone, the words cutting deeper than intended. Jisung felt as if a knife had just been plunged into his stomach, tears beginning to prick at the corners of his eyes. Was he really that annoying?

Seungmin, having noticed the change in mood, watched as Jisung's steps slowed down before grabbing his hand, squeezing it in reassurance. 

“I just… you're always taking care of us and I-I don't want you to get hurt…”

Suddenly, everything went quiet, Chan's footsteps slowly diminishing into nothingness as he processed Jisung's words. It was hard for him to focus, to fully grasp what his friend had just said—his brain having turned into mush long ago.

Chan was a born leader… or at least that's what everyone had been telling him since birth. He was praised for his strong yet soft voice that could command nearly anyone to do virtually anything. He had good morals—his mother had ensured that by raising him right—and that in turn made people willingly place their trust in him.

Wherever he went, people followed, unknowingly putting the burden of authority guidance on his shoulders. He always carried the weight of other people's problems, and while he enjoyed the feeling of satisfaction that protecting and caring for his loved ones provided, sometimes, it became a little too much for him to handle.

Somewhere along the line, he began to lose sight of who he was. All of his energy was always directed towards others, making sure that they were okay. Yet rarely had anyone asked him if he was fine.

Tightening his grip on your limp body, he took a step forward. Warmth filled him upon hearing Jisung's words—gratitude swirling inside of him, seeping into every crevice of his body.

“Jisung?” he breathlessly whispered right before he rounded the corner. “Thank you for caring. It means a lot.” He wondered if he even heard him.

Grabbing the pack of meds from the shelf, he made his way back to the clearance in the middle of the store where the four of you had made your little base. Gently laying you on the bed, he dusted his palm against his pants before opening the box with shaky hands.

‘There's nothing to be worried about,’ he whispered to himself, hoping that those bleak words of reassurance would make a difference if he made himself believe in them. You just got dizzy from being thrown around in the air—it was perfectly normal for people who weren't used to the sensation of telekinetics to feel woozy for a bit.

Hell, Chan remembered how one kid even threw up after being exposed to a sudden burst of the power.

Pulling the small bottle from the paper container, he sat at the edge of the bed with a plastic spoon he retrieved from the party section. He poured some of the milky-white liquid onto it before carefully cupping your cheek with his other hand, angling your head to let the syrup spill into your mouth. 

“You'll be okay,” Chan murmured, brushing the hairs from your forehead. “Stay strong, darlin'.”

As your stomach rose and fell with each breath you took, dark thoughts began to fill his mind. The memories from the night of the escape trickled back into his head, flooding his thoughts with the gruesome scenes filled with blood, gore, and gunshot.

Running a hand through his hair, he groaned, shaking off the unpleasant memories. He’d have to move on.

“Oh… hey, Seungmin,” he waved, cracking a smile when he saw his younger friend. Though his expression fell when he noticed the boy’s glare.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, but he already knew the answer. “It’s about Jisung, isn’t it?”

Seungmin nodded, angrily pointing to where he came from. He then motioned to himself and to you, his hand reaching to grab yours.

“You want me to go talk to Jisung as you watch over Y/N?”

Another nod. Chan sighed, remorse painting his face. “You’re right. I’ll go talk to him and apologize. Will you make sure she has everything she needs, Min?”

Seungmin smiled brightly, revealing his tiny pearls, and it was enough of a confirmation for Chan. He knew you were in good hands now. Standing up, he ruffled Seungmin's hair before heading out to look for Jisung.

It didn't take him long to find him; he was curled up against the wall next to the canned goods, head in between his knees. Chan felt horrible. It pained him to see his friend in such a state, not to mention that he was the one to cause the predicament with his insensitive words.

Crouching down beside him, he whispered, “hey, Jisung.”

Jisung didn't answer at first, sniffling before he lifted his head, looking at Chan with puffy eyes. “Y-Yeah? Do you need anything?”

It was official; Chan felt like an absolute asshole.

His expression softened as his eyes scanned Jisung's face, counting the tears staining his cheeks. Chan had half a mind to wipe them off with his thumb but managed to restrain himself. He came here to clean up the mess he made.

“I'm sorry, Jisung,” his hand dropped to his friend's shoulder, rubbing gentle circles into his shirt. “I was way out of line and I took my anger out on you—which I know wasn't cool.”

Blowing his nose into a napkin, he mumbled, “it's okay. I know you're just trying to keep her safe. I can tell how much you care about her.”

Chan's eyes widened, “her? Jisung, I care about all of you, you know… it's not just her.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jisung replied, looking away. He crumpled the napkin, shoving it into his pocket, “it just feels like you don't care about us as much anymore.”

It took Chan a few seconds to bounce back from that. His heart began to beat against his ribcage so fast that he was afraid it would jump out of his chest. Is this how Jisung had truly felt the entire time? Was this the reason he had been so cold to you in the first place.

His hand dropped down to the floor as he looked him in the eye, a serious expression painting his face. “I hope you're not thinking that I'm replacing you guys with her. We're still in this together, no matter what.”

Judging by the way Jisung grimaced, Chan knew he hit the nail in the coffin. He felt the knife in his chest plunge deeper, tearing at his insides. “We're still the dream team, remember?” his voice cracked, the first layers of the strong facade he had built around himself beginning to crumble. “We're still gonna find Yellow Wood, right?”

“Of course we are,” Jisung exclaimed, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. “You know I'd never willingly leave you guys. It's just that…”

Chan quirked his brow, egging Jisung to continue. “It's just that I'm afraid you'll grow tired of me. You're so… you're so powerful and I'm just… I'm just me…”

He breathes out, casting his gaze down as he stares at his shoes. “There's nothing special about me.”

Choking on his spit, Chan's eyes grew wide as Jisung's words finally sunk in. They weighed heavy on his chest, filling it with an unexplainable black void. His hand reached out, fingers flexing before he retreated it back, letting it drop by his side.

His tone was raspy when he spoke. “I thought you, out of all people, would know that I don't care what color you are. It doesn't matter one bit. I just… we talked about her time at camp and she told me she had a really hard time.”

Chan sighed in exasperation, frustration evident in his tone as he continued, “West Creek is nothing like the small regional camps. That place is hell, Ji. It's hell on Earth and when they were escaping, her friend didn't make it out. So yeah… I may have been by her side a lot but it's only because I want her to feel like she isn't alone. Not to mention that Y/N is Green too so your point no longer stands.”

Jisung's lips curved into a bitter smile as he chuckled, the sound so hoarse and raw. “At least I can always count on being the smart one. You may have the brawn but it seems like you were spared the brains.”

Raising his brow, Chan almost wanted to take offense at the statement but he brushed it off, way too curious now to interrupt Jisung's train of thought. And perhaps Jisung was right—he was, after all, the one to always come up with all their strategies. Which is why it frustrated him on no end that he had no idea what he was talking about.

“You really haven't noticed, have you?” Jisung shook his head, slightly amused. He couldn't fault Chan for becoming so enamored with you, but he could've at least paid more attention to his surroundings. One day, his naivety would bite him in the ass.

Chan was becoming more impatient by the second, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “What haven't I noticed?”

“She's not a Green, Chan,” he looked him in the eye, his gaze unwavering. 

“She's an Orange.”

For the following few seconds, Chan felt like the air was being kicked out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe, he realized in panic, as his breath began to heave. His brain was foggy, almost as if he was thrust underwater with no way out. 

“H-how do you…” the words died out in his throat, “how do you know?”

Before Jisung could even answer, a loud crank ricochetted through the store, causing the both of them to look up. A bright spark of electricity flashed above their heads before eventually vanishing from sight, but it was enough. It was enough for them to know that something was wrong.

“Shit, Seungmin!” Chan exclaimed, hastily climbing up onto his feet and breaking into a sprint. Jisung was hot on his heels, fear coursing through his veins as he thought of all the things that could've possibly happened.

And none of them were pretty.

“Stay behind me,” Chan instructed as they ran, causing Jisung to roll his eyes. “I mean it—you saw what they did to us—and it would've been a lot worse if it weren't for Jeno vouching for me.”

“Of course,” he sighed. “I'll let them hurt you instead of me, sure.”

Chan turned around to shoot him a half-baked glare but a loud scream caused him to nearly trip, his arms shooting out to brace himself against the wall. 

“Let go of him! Don't you dare hurt him,” Chan heard you scream, your voice hoarse and muffled, as if you were being held.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, clenching his fists. They've just crossed into uncharted territory. 

Suddenly, someone shouted, disbelief evident in their tone. “What the fuck? What did she just do?”

When Chan and Jisung arrived at the scene, their eyes flying from one side to the other as they tried to understand what had just happened, you were gripping onto the leader's wrist, staring at him with an unmatched intensity.

Your eyes flashed orange as you dug your fingernails into his arm, feeling the inexplicable rush of power course through you as you slowly sunk into his subconsciousness. His memories were foggy, almost as if you were trying to swim through mud, but you persisted, a clear goal forming at the back of your head.

It took you approximately fifteen seconds to get a good grip on him, and when you felt like you finally had control, you uttered the words with so much spite and venom it later shook you to the core.

“Let him go.”

In the relatively short time that Chan knew you, he had never seen you so angry or heard you order anyone to do anything in that tone.

The boy looked lost for a moment as if he was struggling to get out from under your spell but it was a relatively short battle. In no time, he found himself nodding blankly, his eyes devoid of any emotions as he turned around to his goon that was restraining Seungmin.

“You heard what she said. Release him!”

Scared and visibly confused, the boy released him, immediately retreating with a few hurried steps, hands held high in the air. “O-okay. Calm down. P-Please.”

Another one spoke up, “b-boss? Are you sure? What's going on—”

“She's a fucking Orange, mate!” the guy who had restrained Seungmin shouted. “That's what's going on. So if you don't want to get brainwashed—”

“Shut up!” you cried over their chatter, feeling the dull throb in your head intensify. You felt like someone was hammering against your skull as you released your physical grip on the boy. Pressing your palm to your forehead, you mumbled, “get out of here. Take your entire group and go somewhere far away.”

Eyes still blank, he nodded, motioning for his cronies. “C'mon, guys. We're out of here.”

Two of them were about to protest but one look at the empty, lifeless eyes of their boss and they knew that they had to do what he said if they didn't want to suffer the same fate. As they were picking up their stuff, Jisung immediately ran up to Seungmin, enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug. “Shhh, it's okay now,” he whispered into the crook of his neck, wiping away his tears.

But before they could go, an idea flashed through your mind. “Wait a sec,” you called out, clenching your fists. “Do you know anything about the location of Yellow Wood?”

The leader turned around, catching your gaze as he whispered, “where the grass grows blue…”

You were dizzy, confused. It felt like the ground was being yanked from beneath your feet, causing you to brace yourself against the bedpost. Your head was pounding and you felt like shit, suddenly remembering how you lashed out.

It was scary to realize you were capable of doing such a thing. This was the second time in your life that you used your powers willingly. You had half a mind to grab your few belongings and run out of the store, not wanting to face any of your friends, but you were too weak for that.

“Y/N!” Chan called instantaneously, finally finding the voice that had died down in his throat. “A-Are you okay?”

You slowly looked up, teary-eyed as you shook your head, choking out a sob. “N-No.”

With hurried steps, he eliminated the distance between you, hands reaching to wrap around your waist to prevent you from falling as he gently lowered you on the bed, rubbing comforting circles into your waist.

“Hey, hey. It's alright, okay? You're probably very tired now, aren't you?” he cooed softly, looking at you with so much fondness it made your heart clench. You looked away, whispering, “stop it. Stop being so nice to me. I-I know you must think I'm a monster now.”

“We don't.”

This time, it was Jisung who spoke up, walking over to you, clutching onto Seungmin's hand. “You did what you had to do to protect yourself and Seungmin. There's no way we'd ever hold that against you.”

“I-I never told anyone…” your voice was barely above a whisper. “Six years had passed since I last used my power. I-I did it to avoid getting sorted since I knew they'd send me away. It was easier to pretend that I was a Green…”

“You're no monster, darlin',” Chan swallowed, sitting next to you on the edge of the bed. “You're a survivor, just like the rest of us. You're one of us…”

“It just seems like… I feel like the more that I try, the more damage that I do,” you uttered, balling your hands into fists. Despite having so much disposable power at the tips of your fingers, you felt utterly powerless.

“There are times when my abilities go out of control. I-I… I managed to erase myself from someone's memories… twice.”

Hiccups wracked through your throat as you finally let it all out, the dam that was holding you together now breaking loose. Chan wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to sob into his chest. The tears kept streaming down your face like a waterfall and you were sure you looked like a complete mess, but it felt so good to be held in someone's arms. You felt safe and protected as you held onto him, crying into his chest. 

“My parents. My parents and Jeongin.”

Chan immediately knew what you were talking about as he felt his heart crack at your confession. He knew how much Jeongin meant to you and he could only assume you felt as much love for your parents too.

“Shhh, it's okay,” he whispered, pressing you closer into him. “Everything will be okay, I promise.”

And for some unknown reason, you felt like he was right. You allowed yourself to indulge in the momentary feeling of peace as Chan held you in his lap, strong arms wrapped around you protectively. 

“Do you think we can stay here overnight?” Jisung asked as he walked up to you with Seungmin in his arms. “Min's out of commission for today so it may be a good idea to rest here properly before we head out. We can also try to brainstorm and figure out what they mean by blue grass.”

Chan pondered, glancing around as if to make sure that the group was truly gone. “Yeah,” he sighed, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. “They should be gone by now.”

“Okay, great. I’m still not sure what happened to him though but I think I must’ve drained his energy.”

As he laid the boy on the plush duvet of the neighboring bed, Chan decided that it would be nice for you guys to rearrange yourselves into a more comfortable position. He felt how you tensed in his arms when Jisung began to question what had previously occurred, his brows creasing.

“I’m really sorry for asking about this, Y/N,” he sighed, rubbing his temples in exasperation, “but well… I-I’m wondering if you could tell us what exactly happened. I know this must be really hard on you, I really do, but Min has been through some tough things as well and it would help a great deal to know so we know how to react once ha wakes up.”

You held your breath, unable to prevent your lips from tugging upwards at the corners. Chan was flustered, words spilling from his mouth and you could tell how apologetic he was. If it weren’t for the fact that Seungmin was involved, he wouldn’t have pressed you about it.

But the entire situation was still too much for you to put into words. Merely thinking about it got your insides all twisted.

“Yeah,” Jisung suddenly materialized right in front of you, crouching by the bed. “I'm really sorry about this.”

“It's okay,” you sighed, looking away. Your brain was going into overdrive as it struggled to find a way to tell them what exactly had transpired without having to utter the words. Chan, noticing how you tensed, grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

And then it finally hit you—you didn't have to tell them anything.

You could show them.

Taking a deep breath, your free hand reached out to grab Jisung's, the boy glancing at you with a quirked brow before he smacked his lips in understanding. “This will feel a little weird,” you warned before plunging them into the depths of your own memories, concentrating on steering them towards today's events.

Chan felt like he was walking on a cloud, slivers of your memories flashing before his eyes. He saw you laughing with your mom, riding your bike with your dad, and celebrating your birthday at your grandma's.

Those were the happy ones. The recollections that you seemed to treasure and keep close to your heart. He subconsciously smiled at the thought, enjoying the fact that he could see you so young, so joyful, and full of life.

But there was a clear moment that broke through the peaceful calmness and tranquility. Chan saw red. You were crying, sobbing even, as you were dragged away from your parents and thrown into a school bus with a few dozen other kids. You looked barely ten, he noted.

All the reminiscence onwards was from camp. To his horror, he realized that the nickname ‘hell on earth’ didn't do West Creek any justice. Inferno would be more fitting. Yet amongst the traumatic memories, Chan was surprised to have found a few that seemed to help you through these tough times.

He saw a boy, maybe a year or two younger than himself, eat lunch with you. The same boy would later reappear in a few of your other memories, always donning a bright yellow jumpsuit and always smiling.

And then he saw pain. You were crying as Jeongin looked at you with lifeless eyes as he uttered a question that chilled Chan to the bone. 

“Who are you?”

And judging by the way you began crying, Chan knew that from this moment onward, you'd truly despise the power you possessed.

All of these recollections passed through them like a whirlwind, in reality taking mere seconds as opposed to the long minutes it felt like for the two boys. Your grip on their arms tightened when you finally reached today.

Chan saw himself bid goodbye both to your half-asleep body and Seungmin, ruffling his hair as he went off to search for Jisung. As soon as he saw himself round the corner, he spotted the group of guys walk in. He released a breath he didn't realize he was holding in when he confirmed that Jeno wasn't in the forefront of the group.

But the scene that unfolded before his very own eyes (well, not really…) was so mind-boggling he balled his hand into a fist. Seungmin had just gone to get you a bottle of water after you had quietly asked him, your throat feeling unusually parched.

In the meantime, the leader of the group made his way to you from behind, his hand sliding down your shoulder causing you to gasp. You whipped your head, flinching when your eyes met.

“What do you want?” you croaked, cursing yourself for sounding so meek. The gears in your head were spinning as you struggled to think of what to do. You shivered when you saw the hungry look in his eyes, feeling disgusted as you watched his gaze drop down from your face as he checked you out.

While you were laying in a bed. Sick. Because of him.

“Oh, nothin' really, sweetheart,” he mumbled, tracing his finger down your arm. “I just wanted to talk. It's been a while since I've had the honor of speaking to someone as pretty as you”

A vein popped on your forehead as you grumbled, “I wonder why. Now scram, I don't have anything to talk to you about.”

His brows furrowed when he heard the frustration apparent in your tone. “Anger doesn't really suit you, you know. You should come join us, I'm sure you'd have a lot more fun without those losers,” he whispered into your ear, his hand lowering to your hip. “I guarantee it.”

“Enough,” you protested, shooting him a glare. With enough force, you were able to tear yourself away from him, smacking his hand away in the process. 

“Seungmin!” you called for the boy who had just appeared from around the corner, a bottle of water firmly clutched in his hands. “It's okay,” you tried to reassure him, noticing the fear in his eyes. “Go get Chan and Jisung. We're getting out of here.”

He nodded hastily, scrambling to get your friends but the boy behind you shouted, “grab him, Seojoon!”

Your eyes widened when said boy sprinted towards Seungmin, curling his palm to lift him in the air. ‘A Blue,’ you realized. And a pretty damn strong one too.

Seungmin struggled, trying to hold on to one of the shelves but he wasn't strong enough to resist the pull. You watched in horror, calling for them to stop but Seojoon merely laughed in response. In a last-ditch effort though, Seungmin's hand managed to graze one of the old lamps on the ceiling, sending a firework of sparks into the air. 

“I wouldn't do that again if I were you,” he warned Seungmin, the boy curling into a small ball as he was brought back down, straight into Seojoon's arms. He made a quick work of restraining him, ignoring your protests.

“That's enough,” you shouted, lunging forward, your arm extending. You let out a satisfying hum when you managed to grip onto his arm, slowly beginning to sink into his head…

It took you a minute or so to come back to reality.

You didn't even realize you were crying. Silent sobs wracked through your body as Chan rocked you in his arms, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

“Shhh, everything will be okay,” he mumbled, wiping away your tears with the pad of his thumb. “I won't let anyone hurt you.”

You sniffled into his shirt, calming your breathing. “I-I'm sorry, I think I ruined your shirt.”

“It's okay,” Chan chuckled, grinning. “I couldn't care less, darlin'.”

A sudden loud clang caused you jump in Chan's hold, eyes widening as you nervously looked over his shoulder. 

“Jisung?” Chan exclaimed in disbelief, “what are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Jisung grumbled, allowing his hand to fall back down by his side, clenched into a fist. He had just knocked over all the contents off a shelf which caused the loud echoing noise.

“I'm just fucking pissed.”

“I can tell,” Chan sighed, rubbing his temples, “but that doesn't mean you should go destroy things. You could wake up Seungmin.”

Jisung stared at him, completely bewildered, his mouth twitching. “Are you fucking serious? How can you be so calm after what they did? You should be— you should be fucking livid!”

Irritation flooded through Chan's veins as he glared at his friend, unable to comprehend why the usually calm and rational Jisung was reacting in such a way. It's not that he didn't understand where he was coming from, far from it. Chan was furious. But at this point, aggravation wouldn't do them any good.

“Look, Ji,” he mumbled, trying to keep his voice calm and steady. “I understand how you feel. Trust me, the sole thing I regret in my life the most is not bashing in their skulls. But there's nothing we can do now. Our best course of action is to get a good sleep and make sure something like that doesn't happen again, okay?”

Jisung's eyes darted from Seungmin to you, his expression softening slightly. He exhaled, propping his forehead against the well before he murmured, “seems like you're the voice of reason for once, Chan.”

Gently pushing yourself away from Chan's chest, you jumped off of his lap, walking towards Jisung. “Hey,” you placed your hand on his shoulder. He turned around, his eyes glassy. “Y-Yeah?”

“I really appreciate your concern, Jisung. It's heartwarming to see how much your care about your friends, but you shouldn't worry yourself so much. Seungmin and I will be okay, alright?”

He smiled at you from under his lashes, whispering, “Sung. You can call me Sung.”

“Okay. Now, how about we put our heads together and figure out what blue grass they're talking about, Sung?”

He grinned, peering at you from under his lashes. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

𝚡𝟷𝟹𝚡  

“Ugh, I'm so done,” you groaned, slamming your head against the table. From next to you, Chan chuckled, patting your pack. “Patience is a virtue, darlin'.”

You shot him a glare, mumbling, “patience my ass. You were just complaining a few minutes ago about how much you hate them for leaving us such a stupid riddle.”

“She is right,” Jisung chimed, grinning when Chan scowled.

The three of you have been sitting around the table closest to Seungmin's bed for a few hours now but to you, it felt like a lifetime. You were straining your neck to peer at the paper placed in the middle, filled with messy notes and scribbles. To be fair, it was hard to keep things organized when the only thing you had was a Hello Kitty notepad and a green crayon.

“Look,” Jisung muttered, grabbing hold of the colored crayon. “He was under Y/N's powers, right? So whatever he said must be true. And if that's the case, then we should take ‘blue grass’ at face value. I highly doubt that it's some sort of overcomplicated metaphor that the two of you are making it out to be.”

As if to accentuate his words, he circled the word ‘blue’, adding another note. “Don't you see it?”

Chan exhaled through his teeth, his hand that was propping up his chin suddenly falling to his side. “But that doesn't explain where's the blue grass in the first place. I, for one, am only familiar with the green one.”

“I know,” Jisung rolled his eyes at the snarkiness, “but that doesn't mean that there can't be blue grass under some specific circumstances.”

You sat by the table in silence, each one of you lost in their own little world as you explored different theories. The gears in your head were spinning, and you were beginning to feel dizzy, the exhaustion from prior today slowly catching up with you.

Chan noticed you dozing off when your head lolled to the side, your hair brushing against his shoulder. He slowly propped you up, declaring, “we should probably go to sleep now. Hopefully, after a proper rest, we can look at it with a fresh set of eyes.”

“Okay,” Jisung replied with the crayon in between his teeth, brows furrowed as he focused on the paper in front of him. “I'll call it quits in a few.”

𝚡𝟷𝟺𝚡

You woke up to the loud sound of snoring, shuffling under the covers till you were face to face with a sleeping Chan. Heat rose to your cheeks as you watched his chest rise and fall, his plush lips gently parted and oh-so inviting for you to just press a kiss to.

But you managed to ignore the feeling nagging inside of your chest, instead stretching your limbs with a groan. It was nice to finally sleep on a proper bed.

“Is it mornin' already?” Chan suddenly rasped, his morning voice a lot deeper than usual. But why did it manage to send shivers down your spine?

“Morning, sleepy,” you giggled, ruffling his fluffy hair. “I'm not really sure what time it is but the Sun is rising.”

“We should probably get going then,” he yawned, stretching his arms above his head. You nearly cooed when he began blinking, chasing away the sleep from his eyes. He looked up at you, a delicate smile plastered on his lips.

“Do you know where's Jisung?” you suddenly asked, straining your head to look over the sea of beds. Seungmin was on the one behind you, still curled up in the sheets, but Jisung was nowhere to be found.

Chan shot up, limbs tangled in between the covers as he swept his eyes across the room. And true to your word, he didn't see him.

“Shit!”

“Bring Seungmin,” he mumbled, tumbling out of bed. “I'll go check in the van.”

When you managed to drag a drowsy Seungmin into the parking lot, you could hear loud voices arguing. You peeked into the inside of the van, spotting Jisung and Chan sprawled on the floor.

“Thank God,” you breathed out a sigh of relief. “I was afraid something happened to you for a second there.”

“Y/N!” Jisung shouted, your name rolling off his tongue in excitement. His bright eyes were peering at you with way too much joy despite it being so early in the morning. Yet what worried you the most were the prominent dark circles under his eyes.

“Geez,” you frowned, “you look like you haven't gotten a wink of sleep.”

“Oh well,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as guilt washed over his features. “I kinda pulled an all-nighter.”

Chan glared at him, his hand jerking beside his side. He looked about two seconds away from conking him in the head. Instead, he settled on mumbling, “idiot.”

Shuffling through a stack of paper, Jisung pulled out a map, placing it on the floor of the van and smoothing out the folds and creases. He turned to face you, excitement pooling in his eyes. 

“But I think I may have figured out where Yellow Wood is,” he grinned, before adding, “oh, well… at least the general area.”

Your brows shot up as you plopped onto the ground, pulling Seungmin into your lap. 

“Please do share. You've piqued my interest.”

“Okay. So basically, I was thinking about yesterday's conversation. I firmly believe that you can't really come up with any cunning metaphors under an Orange's influence so I took his words at face value.”

He pointed to the words ‘blue grass’ boldly written in the middle of the paper. “I chose that as my starting point.”

He lifted his eyes, catching your gaze as a mysterious smile played on his lips. You glanced back at Chan, noticing that his chin was propped by the palm of his hand as he stared at Jisung, a blank expression on his face.

“So I stumbled upon a chemistry book in the literature aisle at the store so I began reading through it,” he continued, pulling out an old book that was nearly falling apart at the seam. “And coincidentally, I happened to come across a chapter about grass. Specifically, about how heat affects its appearance.”

“Are you trying to say that we should look for the hottest region?” Chan questioned, scooting closer to Jisung so he could look over his shoulder. The boy shrugged, turning the page.

“Not necessarily. You see, there are actually multiple things that could trigger grass discoloration and cause it to turn it a shade that resembles a metallic blue. And you know where all these correlations meet?”

“Here!” his finger pointed to the bright red circle on the map. “It all comes together in the Southeast Hills wasteland!”

“I-I,” you tugged your lip between your teeth. “I don't understand. Why Southeast Hills?”

“All the circumstantial evidence points to it! First of all, we have an abnormal drought in the area—and dry soil contributes greatly to this phenomenon. Secondly, when you look at the location,” his index finger ran over the map, pointing to the blob of sandy yellow, “you can immediately tell that it couldn't be any better. A vast land that's basically just forests and fields, and get this, not a single government body or camp in sight.”

“Okay,” the word rolled down Chan's tongue slowly as he licked his lips. “That all looks pretty promising, Sung, but I still feel like it isn't definitive enough for us to be sure…”

Jisung smiled, the expression not fully reaching his eyes as he flipped through the book, stopping at one of the last pages. All three of you bent over in anticipation, hanging on his lips.

“You see that's what I told myself too,” he quipped, a certain intensity to his tone, “but then I found this. It's an article from over forty years ago about a chemical spill that happened during the Cold War. There was a disaster at a nearby power plant that resulted in the entire area being contaminated by a chemical often referred to as ‘myrtille’ which means blueberry in french. And can you tell why?”

He paused, glancing over the three of you, a grin appearing on his face. “Because of its coloring properties.”

The van was so silent you could hear a pin drop. Your mouth was parted in awe as you stared at Jisung, still in shock from his revelation. Chan was just as bewildered as you were, if not more, and you could nearly see the gears spinning in his head as he tried to put all the puzzle pieces together.

“So… do you believe me now, guys?” Jisung suddenly spoke up, grinning proudly as he watched your jaws drop.

Then, Chan broke out into a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows, “I think we know our destination now.”

The four of you returned to grab all the supplies you've gathered, storing them in the back of the van as you hit the highway, cheers and laughter spilling from your lips.

“Let's carpe the hell out of this diem!”

𝚡𝟷𝟻𝚡

Your arrival at Yellow Wood was something you'd never forget. After three days of driving across the country, almost getting caught by skip tracers twice, Chan finally pulled up by the old road sign with the words ‘Southeast Hills’.

The four of you jumped out of the vehicle, Chan pulling the doors shut as you examined the vast, unkempt meadow. Planes and planes of wildflowers, tousled grass, and greenery stretched in front of your eyes, the thick blades having grown tall enough to obstruct most of the barbwire fence that fringed the wasteland.

“Look!” Jisung called out, pointing to the sign. “This is it! W-We're here!”

And true to his word, someone carved out the words ‘Yellow Wood’ right under the name. 

“Holy shit!” Chan whispered, still in shock. “We actually made it.”

As if on cue, a dozen or so figures emerged from the bushes, all dressed head to toe in military gear with weapons in their hands. Although your first instinct was to panic and run back into the van, Chan grabbed your hand, pulling you into his side.

“No way! Is that you, mate?” one of the guys stepped forward, letting his AR-15 drop to the ground as he briskly walked up to Chan, drawing him into a hug. “You've bulked up!”

Chan chuckled at his words, patting his back with a smile. “Nice to see you, Sangyeon! Who knew we'd cross paths so soon.”

Sangyeon walked up to Jisung, embracing him as well before picking up Seungmin into his arms and twirling him around. “Hey, bud. How's it going?”

You watched the exchange with nothing but fondness in your eyes, the edges of your mouth curving into a sad smile. After Sangyeon finished greeting the three, he turned around to face you, an odd twinkle in his eyes.

“I see that you've managed to pick someone up along the way.”

“Yeah,” Chan grinned, wrapping his arm around your waist. “This is Y/N, we met and scooped her up as we were running from some PSFs. She escaped from West Creek. Y/N, this is Sangyeon. He was one of our friends back in camp.”

“Hey,” you shook his hand, suddenly feeling shy from all the eyes looking straight at you. You weren't used to the attention, a bashful smile on your lips. “Nice to meet you.”

His grip was firm, you noted, and he had warm brown eyes. The watched you intently as he let go of your hand, bringing it to his mouth and whistling.

“All right, everyone. They're cleared.”

And then like the Red sea, everyone stepped back, creating a pathway for you to go in. It felt nervewracking to walk into an establishment with a barbed wire running across its border when you had just bent over backward to escape from one.

Chan must've noticed the way your hand lightly trembled because in no time, he placed his palm over yours, gently intertwining your fingers.

“I have to take you to the boss first,” Sangyeon spoke as he led you through the camp, sucking on a lollipop as he greeted all the passing kids. “He's been dying to see you.”

“No way,” Chan gloated, “the Slip Kid wants to talk to us?”

Sangyeon released the lolly with a ‘pop’ before shoving his hands into his pocket. “Yeah. He's been especially excited to finally meet another Orange.”

Your mouth parted in shock, muttering, “this can't be. The Slip Kid's an Orange too?”

“Yeah. and a damn good one at that! C'mon, it's time for you to meet him.”

𝚡𝟷𝟼𝚡

The rest of the day passed by like a whirlwind, and before you could even register it, the Sun began to set.

The four of you were welcomed to Yellow Wood rather warmly, and you immediately noted that the way things were run here was a lot smoother than in any of the government camps. Everyone had their own responsibilities—their own little obligations to fulfill. Yet not a single person you passed by seemed unhappy.

On the contrary, everyone was joyful and full of life. It was almost too good to be true.

Meeting the Slip Kid was also an experience in and of itself. You should have known—it was ironic how you instantly recognized him, even though you've never actually seen him in your entire life.

But you were surrounded by posters of his younger self for the past six years, haunted by his lifeless eyes and pale skin.

Yet now, he seemed to be glowing.

Hwang Hyunjin was just as handsome in person as you would've expected.

His dewy skin glowed under the fluorescent lamp hanging in the middle of his room, his hair had grown out, dark brown tips now reaching his shoulders, and most importantly, his cherry lips were as plump as ever, still the same shade of pink.

“No way,” Jisung gasped, taking a step back. “You're the Slip Kid? B-But you're Hwang's son—”

“Nu-uh, save your inquiries for later,” Hyunjin tutted, pushing himself upwards into a standing position. “There's a lot I'd like to discuss with you.”

He then walked up to you, placing his hand on your shoulder as he scanned your face, smiling brightly as his eyes turned into little crescent moons. “I've heard a lot about you. You're Y/N, right?”

You were in shock, your entire body tensed as it refused to move a muscle. The way he was looking at you… it was weirdly unsettling and you weren't entirely sure why. You felt like you were stripped naked in front of him, vulnerable… almost as if he could see into your head and share your thoughts.

And then it hit you. He could.

Calmly, you grabbed his hand, gently taking it off your shoulder. “Yeah, that's me. How could you've heard anything about me though?”

“Oh,” he laughed, the sound dripping from his lips like honey. “I have my ways. I know everything, you know? Especially if it concerns the last undetected Orange.”

Then he turned around to face Chan, “ah. I know you too! You're Chris Bang, right? The most wanted kid in the country.”

When Chan refused to answer, his hand reached nack to pick up a stack of papers from the desk, rearranging them in his hands. “I must say, you guys will be a great addition to the team. We've been in dire need of a strong Blue.”

Turning around, you noticed the way Jisung shuffled his feet, heat rising to his cheeks as he looked away, clearly embarrassed. He must've been uncomfortable to be completely ignored and disregarded by Hyunjin, almost like he wasn't wanted here in the first place.

“See, they're offering a real' fortune for whoever brings you in.”

Chan scoffed, rolling his eyes at his words. He didn't like him, that was for sure. Hyunjin, who must've sensed the unease, placed the heap of papers back on the table as he gave Chan a mischievous smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“I must ask the three of you to wait outside for a few minutes. I'd like to discuss something in private with Y/N.”

Frowning, Chan looked him up and down, an unreadable expression playing on his lips. He still didn't want to let go of your hand and leave you alone with Hyunjin, but there was nothing he could do. He threw the taller boy a glare as he walked out of the room, Jisung and Seungmin following suit.

But before the door could slam in his face, he turned around, catching your gaze. The way his mouth quirked, you could tell what he was trying to convey.

‘Don't worry. I'll be outside, waiting…’

And the door slammed.

𝚡𝟷𝟽𝚡

Hyunjin's words were still echoing in your head as you walked out of the small building. The sunlight streaming through the cracks of the wooden rooftop illuminated your face, casting a gentle glow on your skin.

“Oh, hey,” you greeted Chan whose back was against the wall, looking up at the sky with his eyes closed. It looked like he was soaking up the sunlight, relishing in the rare moment of peace and tranquility.

“Hey, how did it go?”

Plopping on the ground next to where he was standing, you sighed, “I think it went okay. He asked me if he could train me though, as in like… help me hone my abilities.”

Chan's brows furrowed as he looked down at you, pulling his hands out of his pockets before sitting down beside you. “Isn't that a good thing though? I mean—you can already do some awesome shit but I can imagine how much your skills would improve if you had some guidance?”

When he noticed your skeptical expression, he elaborated, “trust me, I've been in your shoes before, unaware of all the things I could do before someone senior offered to help me.”

“I see your point,” you mumbled, casting your gaze into your lap, “but I'm still trying to finger out if what I'm doing is even morally acceptable. I need to know where to draw the line… how far can I go without being a monster?”

“Y/N,” Chan sighed, grabbing both your hands in his as he looked you in the eye. “You're not a monster, okay? And you never will be if you're simply protecting yourself. We all have to make do with what we have whether we've got the ability to slip into someone's mind, hurl a truck at them, or outsmart them with our super brain.”

You giggled at his reply, feeling a little better after hearing his reassuring words. “Thank you, Chan,” you whispered, leaning into his side and allowing your head to drop onto his shoulder.

With your warm body so close to him, Chan felt like his heart was about to explode inside of his chest. Smiling, he scooted a bit closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“No problem.”

And the two of you sat there in a comfortable silence until dinner was announced, neither of you wanting to get up. But then, as if on cue, your stomach let out a loud rumble, heat rising to the tips of your ears as Chan stifled a laugh, grabbing your hand and dragging your begrudging form along with him.

“C'mon. We need to feed that whale in your stomach, darlin'.”

𝚡𝟷𝟾𝚡

You've never felt so content and at peace as you did right now.

The night sky was clear, not a single cloud in sight as you watched the sunset cast a warm, golden glow. You were sitting around the massive bonfire, watching the flames lick away at the wooden planks pilled up in the middle, curled into Chan's side as his arm was wrapped tightly around your waist.

Everything felt so serene, you relished in the peace and welfare that Yellow Wood had so far offered you. Everyone seems so happy here, and it shocked you to no end how they managed to create such an atmosphere where you momentarily forgot about everything going on outside the fenced-in walls that guarded this place.

Almost as if the camps didn't exist in the first place — as if the Choi disease had never happened…

When the music started playing, everyone suddenly got up, beginning to dance to the summery track. You smiled—the mood was great, everybody clearly having a good time. If you could, you'd stop time and stay in this moment forever.

“C'mon, dance with me,” Chan grinned, standing up. He extended his hand towards you, like a true gentleman, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Would you do me the honors?”

Your eyes widened, you had to fight the urge to look back and make sure he wasn't talking to anyone else, before pointing at yourself with a shaky finger. “M-Me? You want to dance with me?”

Chan placed his hands on his hips, pretending to be deep in thought. “No. Actually, I wanted to dance with that really jacked dude that's standing a few feet behind you.”

“Hey!” you swatted his arm playfully, nervously biting your lip. “Stop being sarcastic all the time.”

“I'm sorry,” he broke out into a grin, rubbing the back of his neck. “You're just so easy to tease,”

You looked up, heat rising to your cheeks when you saw the lingering anticipation on his handsome face, the signature dimples appearing making an appearance. It was nearly impossible to say no to him, but for some reason, you were too anxious to come join him, instead murmuring, “I'm a terrible dancer. The last time I tried was on my ninth birthday.”

Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted into the air, the evening breeze grazing your skin. 

“It's okay,” Chan replied, gently carrying you through the sea of bodies, his movements precise and controlled. “I can lead.”

“C-Chan!”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he lowered you into his arms with a flick of his wrist, his hand gently settling on your waist as he began to sway to the music. “I-I… nevermind…” you whispered, everything in your head going blank.

The simmering air around you, combined with the heat from the flames, made your muscles turn into mush. If you could press pause and stay in a single moment for the rest of your life, it would be now.

“You okay now, darlin'?” he reached to brush the hair from your face, his thumb grazing against your lips.

“Yeah. Better than ever.”

Your fingers found the bare skin of his forearms, gently tracing the muscles and the overlying veins. His skin was so soft, save for the few bruises and scratches that decorated it. When his hand slid under your shirt, gently rubbing your lower back, you felt like your knees were about to buckle under your weight.

His hands were so warm and wide and his touch was electrifying. Almost as if a current passed through you, you shivered, pressing yourself closer to him.

As the melody of the track thumped through your body, Chan's steady hand managed to safely maneuver you through the heaps of people. The entire time, his gaze was fixed on you, eyes gazing into yours.

“God,” he murmured, strengthening his grip on your waist.

“What?”

“Did you know that you sometimes make me forget how to breathe?” he blew out a shaky breath, his facade crumbling right in front of your eyes. 

“I'm looking at you and it's like the only thought inside of my head is how much I want to kiss you.”

Your heart was beating inside of your ribcage and when you felt his breath fan over your cheek, you looked up at him and whispered, “so why don't you do it?”

And that's all the motivation Chan needed; his hand cupping the back of your neck as he pressed his lips against yours, sealing them with a kiss.

Chan was a great kisser, you've deduced that from the grand total of two times that the two of you had kissed. His lips molded against yours perfectly, finding the ideal rhythm and pace. 

When the two of you parted, you both had the dumbest smiles, giggles spilling from your lips.

“Wanna do that again?” his voice was shaky, still out of breath.

You grinned, placing your hand on his shoulder and pulling him closer to you. “Yeah, I'd love that.”

So Chan dove right back in, devouring your lips with his own as everything around you faded, leaving you to focus only on each other and the oxytocin coursing through your bodies.

𝚡𝟷𝟿𝚡

Your nerves were tingling as your hand reached for the doorknob. You weren't too excited to meet Hyunjin again, to be completely honest, but you knew it had to be done. Chan was right—honing your skills was important.

Plus, there also came the added bonus of Hyunjin agreeing to search through his network for Jeongin if you allowed him to train you…

It was oddly quiet and you wondered if he was even inside. Your question was answered when as soon as you knocked on the door, Hyunjin slammed it open.

He smiled breathlessly, his eyes turning into little crescent moons as he let you in, flushing when he realized that he was still in his PJs.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he mumbled, looking down at the oversized t-shirt and Garfield shorts. He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment but relaxed when he heard you giggle.

“It's okay, your shorts are kinda cute.”

You thanked him for holding the door open for you and walked inside. Looking around the room, you noticed the array of photos hanging on his wall—lots from his childhood and some that were more recent.

“We can sit on the bed,” he motioned towards the back of the room, leading you before settling on the springy mattress. You took off your shoes before joining him, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“Okay so the first thing I'd like to say is that you can ease your nerves, there's no need to be nervous or scared.”

Slowly, you unclenched your fists, not even realizing how tensed your muscles were. “S-Sorry.”

“It's okay—we're learning here. No need to apologize.”

He took a deep breath before continuing, “one of the most important things when it comes to getting out abilities under control is learning how they work. You need to know how to fight the intrusion if you want any hope of being able to do so safely and without any accidents.”

You shivered at his words, remembering the times when you erased yourself from the minds of your loved ones. Hyunjin, noticing your distress, reached to grab both your hands in his. 

“It happened to you before, didn't it?”

You could tell that he knew as he gave you a look of pity and understanding. Almost as if he'd been through it too, eradicating himself from the consciousness of someone close to him.

“Y-Yeah. Twice…”

Hyunjin cursed under his breath softly, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. “You're not alone. I had done it too back when I didn't even know what it meant to be an Orange.”

You smiled, anguish written all over your face as you whispered, “it sucks, doesn't it?”

“Yeah. And I'll make sure it'll never happen to you again.”

The first exercise Hyunjin gave you was to block him out of your mind when he tried to slip into your memories. It sounded like a simple task, but in reality, you felt completely powerless when you felt him clawing at your precious consciousness. 

“Build a wall around yourself, Y/N,” his voice managed to reach you, although you felt like you were slipping underwater, your mind foggy. “You need a visualization. Imagine there's a wall, curtain, door… or frankly any sort of barrier between the two of us.”

You frowned, closing your eyes as you swallowed down the ball of spit that had formed in your throat. You needed to focus.

Slowly, you began to picture a wooden door towering in front of you. In your mind, you forced yourself to extend your hand, pulling the door shut and turning the key. And bit by bit, you felt Hyunjin's intrusion fade out, no longer sensing the obtrusive presence of someone else in your head. The vulnerability you felt also disappeared as you gained some confidence after your successful defense, smiling to yourself.

“Good job!” Hyunjin cheered, positively beaming at the sight. “You've managed to do it on your first try! That's quite impressive.”

“Oh stop it,” you sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck. “I'm sure went easy on me.”

The guilty smile that appeared on his lips made you chuckle. “I didn't really go easy on you, per se… I just didn't fight back too much when you began to push me out. But it's important for you to get a feel of how it's like to fight off the intrusion, you know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense. But it was pretty exhausting to do if I'm being honest.”

Shuffling his legs, he threw them off the edge of the bed before answering. “It always is when you try it for the first time. But soon, it'll feel like second nature to you, so don't worry, okay?”

You nodded, joining him at the edge of the bed as you gazed outside the window, smiling when you saw everyone running around and having. A comfortable silence enveloped you, and from the corner of your eye, you caught Chan in the group, settled on one side of the beach volleyball field as he tossed the ball in the air and sent it flying over the net.

You silently cheered, a large grin appearing on your face as you followed the game intently, trying not to waver as Chan slipped his shirt off mid-game, continuing to play without it. Hyunjin chuckled when he saw your furrowed brows and the tiny pout on your lips, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“You can go watch them play, you know? We're done for today.”

Nearly jumping in your seat, you turned to him, embarrassment written all over your face when you realized that he caught you staring at Chan. “O-Okay. I'll head out then. Thanks for everything.”

“No problem,” he simpered, waving you off. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

𝚡𝟸𝟶𝚡

The following few days you stuck to the same routine, focusing on resting and your training with Hyunjin. He had insisted that you weren't assigned any job yet so as a result, you had quite a lot of free time.

Today, you woke up a little bit earlier than usual, the sun filtering through the wooden planks of the small sleeping cabin you were assigned. Stretching your arms above your head, you yawned, throwing your legs over the bed and walking out into the morning sun.

“Good morning, Sung,” you plopped down next to the boy, patting him on the shoulder.

“Mornin'.”

The tone of his voice immediately set off alarm bells in your head as you turned around to face him, barely catching a glimpse of the pained expression on his face. He looked like he hadn't slept at all if the dark circles under his eyes were anything to go by.

“You okay, buddy? You don't exactly look like you're happy…”

“I'm fine,” Jisung groaned, burying his head in between his legs.”I'm just… uh… I don't even know, honestly. I've been feeling pretty weird ever since we got here.”

“How come?” you inquired, your heart breaking at the sight. It was unusual to see Jisung so sad. Sure, he could get grumpy quite often, but you had never seen him so… so miserable.

“It's just that…” he blew out a shaky breath, running his hand through his hair. “I feel so… lonely here. Like I'm not even welcome. Almost no one here's a Green—which of course makes sense—we're least likely to escape from camp since we both don't have the powers nor are we in such imminent danger as the others—”

“Jisung,” you gently cut him off mid-ramble, cupping his cheek. “Look at me; it's okay, you don't have to explain yourself in such detail every time, okay? Just tell me why you're feeling down.”

“I just feel like there's no place for me here…”

“Hey,” the word came out shakier than you'd hoped it would, but you brushed it off, looking him in the eye. “There's always a place for you, alright? And even if it's not here, you'll always have us, remember? I care about you, Ji, I really do… Chan would die for you, and Seungmin… you're his hero, don't you see that?”

Your heart nearly cracked when you heard him sniffle. Jisung blushed, wiping his face into the sleeve of his hoodie and turning away from you in embarrassment. “Don't look at me,” he mumbled.

“Okay, I've gotta go now, Sung,” you sprang up, sending him a quick thumbs-up before trudging away. “See you later.”

“Yeah,” Jisung whispered, wiping away the tears from his face. “See ya!”

𝚡𝟸𝟷𝚡

On your way to Hyunjin, you passed Chan by the soccer field, your heart rate quickening at the sight. He was, once again, surrounded by at least a dozen of people, laughing as he effortlessly passed the ball while managing to stay focused and converse with the person on his right.

Your chest tightened uncomfortably. While you had always assumed that Chan was the popular and outgoing type, you were shocked nonetheless to see how quickly he had managed to form his own little group of friends in less than a week.

Honestly, you couldn't help the pang of jealousy blossoming inside you. 

You were looking forward to today's lesson; Hyunjin had promised you that he'd teach you how to undo the memory erasure—something that you desperately wanted to learn…

There was also the added bonus of his laptop sitting in the middle of his desk. It was the only technological device that could connect you with the outside world in the entire camp.

The lesson passed by in a blur, your mind still foggy as Hyunjin handed you a glass of water, patting you on the back.

“It's okay, you did well,” he praised, rubbing comforting circles onto your back as you gulped down the beverage. “It's a bit more complicated, especially since you don't have anyone to try it on…”

“I'm okay, don't worry,” you reassured him with a smile, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I'm just a bit out of breath, that's all.”

In the meantime, Hyunjin had walked up to his desk, plopping on the chair. He powered up his laptop, the shiny logo appearing on the screen illuminating his face.

“I got an email from one of my contacts in the morning,” he suddenly spoke up, catching your gaze. “I figured I should wait for you to read it though—it's about Jeongin.”

You tensed, feeling all the muscles in your body lock as you positioned yourself behind Hyunjin so that you were looking over his shoulder.

You felt your breath hitch when he clicked on the attachment, impatiently tapping your foot against the ground when the document lagged. When it finally loaded, you began skimming over the text, your frown deepening with every word that you read.

Towards the end, your eyes widened in disbelief, a single tear rolling down your cheek as you let out a shaky breath, clenching your fists.

“N-No… t-this can't be. I don't believe it!” you shouted as your eyes began to water. Hyunjin slowly stood up, a frown on his face as he rubbed your shoulder. “I'm really sorry…”

“I refuse to believe this,” you sniffed, not caring anymore that you looked pathetic with puffy eyes and watery cheeks. “This is not the Jeongin I know… he'd never do anything like this!”

“Y/N, I'm sorry but it's the truth and you need to accept it,” Hyunjin tried to grip your hand in hopes of comforting you but you tore it away, glaring at him. “How do you want me to accept that there's a fucking ten million dollar bounty placed on his head? And not only that!” you choked out, pointing a shaky finger at the screen and at the note under the ransom.”

“Dear or alive… they fucking offered 10 million for his corpse, for fuck's sake!”

With that, you stormed off, ignoring Hyunjin's pleas as you let the door slam behind you. You ran through the fields, stepping over the campfire site, sniffling at the thought of Jeongin. You were still in shock from what Hyunjin's email had contained.

It felt like someone just dumped a bucket of ice water on your head, you felt broken… miserable. All you wanted to do was just bury your head under your pillow and pretend that the last ten minutes of your life had never happened. But now that you knew, you couldn't just ignore it. 

Jeongin's life was in grave danger now that the bounty had been listed on the skip tracer network… it was only a matter of time before they'd all start looking for him, tracking him all over the country. His listing had beaten the previous highest ransom by a longshot—all the skip tracers who were focusing on Chan would now no doubt divert their attention and go after Jeongin.

You fumbled through the bushes, wiping away your tears as you inched closer to your little hut. In all honestly, you wanted to simply pack up your scarce belongings and disappear with the wind but your prayers were cut short as you heard a pair of loud voices.

You stumbled onto the tiny clearing in front of your assigned cottage, eyes blown wide as you watched Chan and Jisung engage in a very heated debate, the latter fuming with anger.

“Oh, hey, Y/N—wait, what happened?” Chan questioned, his voice cracking at the sight of you. You were a mess, to put it lightly, even Jisung frowned deeply at the sight, his eyebrows creasing.

“Are you okay?”

You ignored both of their questions, pushing past them to get through the door. There, you began to pull out all your stuff from the drawers, granted, you didn't own that many things, before shoving them into your little backpack. 

“Hey, darlin', please,” you could sense the desperation in tone. “Tell me what's wrong…”

You snapped your head to face him, ready to tell him off but the words died on your tongue. Watching the different emotions flash on his face, you felt your heart softening. It wasn't his fault after all, wasn't it? He had done nothing wrong…

You hadn't even realized that you began to cry again, tears streaming down your cheeks as you hiccuped into your sleeve, embarrassed that the two got to see you in such a state. Chan immediately rushed to your side, pulling you onto his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Shhh, it's okay,” he whispered, pulling you close to him as you sobbed into his t-shirt, no doubt staining the cotton with your tears. “Everything will be alright, don't worry.”

As cheesy as it sounded, Chan's soft reassurance and his gentle caresses managed to lull you into a state where you were able to think rationally, struggling only a little bit to get the words out of your mouth.

“I-It's Jeongin,” you murmured, hiding your head in the crook of his neck. “Hyunjin had managed to trace him.”

Gently running his hands down your sides, you felt oddly encouraged to continue, “there's a ten million dollar bounty on his head, Chan. Dead or alive…”

After uttering these words, you felt your heart constrict in your chest once again as you hiccuped. “A-And that's not even everything.”

Chan tried his best to hide his shock, not wanting to freak you out more than you already were, so he bit down his tongue to prevent the surprised gasp that threatened to leave his parted lips, instead burying his head into yours as he inhaled the sweet scent of your shampoo.

“H-He's not the same person he used to be, Channie. He's turned into a monster… I-I just, ugh—” you groaned, clutching onto his shirt tightly. You were both scared and frustrated at the same time.

“He apparently escaped with some other Yellows and they formed a tribe. But the reason there's such a high bounty over his head is because t-they'd,” you choked out, unable to produce a coherent sentence.

“They began attacking supply vans and killing the drivers in the process… I can't believe it. The Jeongin I knew—he'd never do such a thing!”

“You know, sometimes, the people we once knew do unspeakable things—that's just how it is,” Chan muttered under his breath, tilting your head so that you were looking him in the eye. “You can't take responsibility for other people's actions. As much as you'd like to believe it, you never truly know what each person is thinking. They could've had a reason that drove them to resort to such extreme measures, even if we don't agree, there's always reasoning behind one's actions.”

“But taking other people's lives?” you cried, your voice going an octave higher. “That's not right, no matter the circumstances.”

Chan held you in his arms for a few more minutes until you calmed down, suddenly pushing him away and getting off his lap. 

“Where are you going?” he asked, tone laced with panic as he watched your expression harden. You wiped away the remaining tears staining your cheeks before you got back to packing your bag.

“I'm leaving this place. I have to find Jeongin before he gets himself killed.”

There was no room for negotiation, Chan was sure of that. Behind your moist eyes blazed a fire, a strong, determined, and powerful fire that he couldn't put out. No. He had to add fuel to it for it to burn.

“We're coming with you.”

No. They couldn't. There was no way you'd allow them to go with you, no way in hell would you watch them leave the safe haven they've been dreaming about for so long.

You turned around to face him, and with lifeless eyes, you whispered, “no… you can't.”

It was more of a plea than a statement, your voice cracking terribly as you tried to control the onslaught of emotions. “Chan, please, you can't keep risking your lives for me, you know?”

“Well, you can't keep trying to run away from me. I'm not letting you go alone.”

You clutched the piece of clothing in your hand, lowering your gaze onto the ground. “I-I… t-this—this isn't gonna work, Chan…”

“Why?” his voice was suddenly louder, filled with fervor as walked up to you, grabbing your hands in his. “Give me one reason why we can't be together and I'll give you a hundred why we can. We can go anywhere you want. I'm not like your parents, I'm not going to abandon you or send you away, not ever.”

As if on cue, the door burst open, Jisung popping his head inside. “Min and I packed up our stuff. We're ready to go.”

You stared at them in disbelief, the words beginning to form at the tip of your tongue but Chan beat you to it, a grin already poking at his lips.

“See, you're not the only one that wants to leave this place. All four of us will go and help you find your friend, isn't that right?”

From the entrance, Jisung gave you a smile and Seungmin nodded aggressively, causing you to nearly tear up all over again. You were so touched that this little group of misfits that you've joined had become like family to you, willing to risk it all just to help you.

“Are you sure, guys? I-I mean… you can't take this back once you come…”

Chan slowly lifted his head and there was so much conviction in your eyes it made you dizzy. When he uttered the following words, it seemed to be the surest he'd ever been about something in his entire life.

“Let's go.”

After Chan had packed his small bag, the four of you walked out of the cabin, heading towards the main gate. A small group of kids stopped what they were doing to watch you, clearly having never witnessed people leave the camp.

When you arrived at the main gate, you were surprised to see a small group of armed people with guns slung over their shoulders clearly guarding the exit. They all tensed up when they saw you, immediately blocking your way as one of them spoke up.

“What do you want?”

Chan raised a brow, clearly not expecting any pushback. “Isn't it obvious? We're leaving.”

“That won't be possible,” another one replied icily, his hand reaching for his gun. “You need to first fill out a form and get it approved by the Slip Kid.”

“You're kidding?” Chan scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “You can't force us to stay here.”

Suddenly, a loud voice from behind said, “actually, we can.”

You snapped your head to look behind you, clearly taken aback. “Hyunjin? What the hell?”

The young man in question twirled a small dagger in his hand before getting a proper grip on it, looking you dead in the eye. “You see, we can't just let anybody leave this place. We have to make sure they'll actually survive out there on their own. And unless I want to be accused of being biased, I need to check for myself, don't you understand, sweetheart?”

You nearly shivered hearing the term of endearment fall from his lips. His tone was menacing and sly, nothing like the way he spoke to you for the past week. 

“So unless you want this to get ugly, I suggest the four of your go back to your cabins.”

Your expression hardened as you reciprocated his intense glare. “Yeah, that's not happening.”

Turning back, your eyes immediately caught Chan's, the two of you sharing a nod. He knew what this meant—you wouldn't go down without a fight. Yellow Wood clearly wasn't the place the four of you thought it was.

A cheshire grin tugged at his lips as he cracked his knuckles.

“Give ‘em hell, darlin’!”

a/n: hello <3 tysm for reading this far. if you've enjoyed, please consider letting me know and reblogging. I've spent two months working on this fic (including the entirety of my summer break so far...). feel free to ask any questions too :3 sending you my best wishes and i hope you stay safe :>

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

WICKED GAME - by @wonderbatwayne & @not-so-mundane-after-all-97

Fandom: DC Titans

Pairings/Relationships: Dick Grayson/Kory Anders, Dick Grayson & Rachel Roth, Kory Anders & Rachel Roth, Rachel Roth & Garfield Logan, Graysonfam

Chapter: 16/16

Rating: Mature

Summary:

Everybody plays a game. Every move counts, anyone, can be a player. Some play dirty, some play nice, everybody's got eyes on the main prize.

In a world of deception, money, and power, where women are forced to dance with the devil in the name of survival, where men need to break their oaths to do the right thing, Dick Grayson is on a mission to win. A man with a plan, with a goal and a target. Trigon Azarath needs to be eliminated by any means necessary. He's been playing a very long and calculated game, and it has to stop now.

But what happens when a little ballerina with raven hair and a guarded heart, a girl who shouldn't even exist for all he knows, spins the table on him like the pirouettes she does on stage? When a woman with green eyes and a bloody past sets his world ablaze instead of being just a step on the road to victory? Will sticking to the rules be worth the outcome?

It's a wicked game to play, indeed.

Rhi:

And with that we draw final curtains on Wicked Game. I'm still in awe we created this, we brought it to life and you all supported us by devouring every crumb and screaming about every plot twist. You are truly amazing. Wicked Game isn't just mine and Mundi's... It belongs to everyone who loves these characters and these relationships as much as we do. Thank you for the incredible ride you've given us, all the love week to week. We couldn't ask for better friends and readers!

But there is one very special person I want to thank. My writing partner in crime. The person who breathes the heart of this story. The wonderful, the brilliant, the insanely talented Mundi. This story wouldn't exist without her. I wouldn't be half the writer I am without her. Thank you bestie, for making this collab such a dream, for always encouraging me to push beyond my limits and always cheering me on.

We've played a Wicked Game with you all these past 16 weeks but now the game is over! I guess we all won!

Mundi:

Well, game's over. It's honestly mind blowing this thing actually exist, I still to this day look at his fic, at all the ramblings and brainstorming and I can't believe we did this. But what's more important is that we did this for YOU. This amazing, wonderful fandom that deserves the whole world, our friends from far away who were right here with us on this special journey. Your reaction to this story, the way it was received, it exceeded our hopes and expectations by miles!!! Every laugh, every cry, all the screaming and all the therapy bills thrown at us, we'll cherish that forever. My heart is in shambles right now because the ride is ending, but I'm also so so so thankful to all of you for joining us on this roller coaster. The best friends we've ever had, the best audience we could have hoped for. THANK YOU.

And of course I have to take off the crown and bow down low to my partner in crime. Rhi, my darling, if it wasn't for you, that little scene of Dick seeing his baby girl as a ballerina in a different universe would still be stuck in the back drawer of my brain. You breathed life into it and helped me nurture it and grow it into this magnificent thing. It was an expierence of a lifetime and I will never forget it, I'll be in my 80s still remember every little detail of this adventure. You are incredible. I've learned so much from you, I've grown as a creator, as a writer and as a person because of you. To find a person who clicks with you so easily, who rides on the same frequency as you and loves the art they make and the show they make it for just as much as you do is sometimes a miracle, but it happened to me and I will never be able to fully express how much that means to me. Here's to you, to you brilliant, unbelievable talent and to this friendship that will last as long as Tumblr and ao3 are breathing and LONG AFTER THAT.

And that's a curtain call on Wicked Game. Roll the credits, check the scores. And then... Play it all over again.

@undertheknightwing @legendsofentity @mejacinta @meetmeunderthestarrynight @escapism-through-imagination @lady-stirling @grocerylines @xburningbluex @ambelle @ffiamgoku @greatthingssmallworld @garsfavouritejacket @redhairgreeneyes1 @halliwellextra @happilyshanghaied @jerriandtheirfanfics @koryvndr

[warm-starlight]

I am really confused though.... Since the beginning I watched aot I thought wow levihan is where it's at, the chemistry 👌, yes ma'am. Imagine if wit didn't leave out the rest of the crumbs lol. But really, the more I get into the fandom the more perplexed I am about Levi's emotions towards them.

There's plenty of canon material, but also enough to support eruri too??? I'm fine with multishipping and both are cute for different reasons... But I'd like Levihan to have the same exposure.

The thing that makes me question the most is how Levi, despite telling moblit to care for them in the smartpass story and worried in the ocean scene and during uprising he gets mad a little, doesn't act as concerned when Hange gets actually hurt. Like when reiner and bert betrayed the scouts and Hange got burned, after the shoulder injury, when they lost an eye? I just expected something more from him I guess bc he's shown to care for others physical well being as when giving a handkerchief to eren when bleeding during the experiments or when Erwin lost his arm we saw him staying by his side and later threatening to break his leg so he won't go to shiganshina. Why not do the same for Hange who literally as we saw later is a hundred percent ready to drop anything on the spot to save you and nurse you to health?

Or when he said that Hange take over so Erwin again doesn't go to shiganshina? Putting them in harm's way? Shipping aside, their friendship is supposed to be rock solid, they're constantly a pair, even losing fucking opposite eyes. And what I thought was a particularly dick move was when he said that essentially there's no hope for Hange squad survival and use them as decoy so that Erwin can escape with Eren..... Like.... This is so ungrateful? Am I missing something though translation or anything?

And also, when Isabel and farlan and Erwin died, he raged and grieved this way. With Hange he did get a highly emotional goodbye but not much afterwards. Why was he so passive during their death? Why let them go like that easy?

Maybe these are all insecurites bc there's been a lot of hate circling around and it's getting into my head.... I still love levihan and just wish yams would elaborate more

Ok, this is a lot to unpack haha...

First of all, Levi wasn't "staying beside Erwin's bed all week" hahaha. I am sure he only came to talk after Erwin woke up, because he was summoned with Pixis. He was busy preparing plans for their next steps as he said himself.

When Hange got injured, he stopped in the middle of the fight to make sure they're ok and ordered Armin to take care of them. Later he saw Hange acting as she usually does and assumed the injury is not serious.

After Hange lost an eye he was already exhausted enough to comment or care about it IG. You can't expect him to comment on Everything.

As for why he asked Erwin to stay, well, Erwin is the most important figure in the corps and his abilities are trully irreplacable. This isn't just Levi'a opinion. The Entire survey corps think the same way.

Losing him would be a huge blow to humanity.

Of course Later Levi is willing to risk it because he trusts Hange and Armin enough, but still.

Hange would prioritize Erwin Too should she have to choose between Levi and Erwin.

That's just how it is in the Survey corps.

Also when he said "survivors from Hange squad" he assumed Hange is dead. Hence why he was ready to go after the Beast titan too which would spell a certain death without a plan.

When he raged for Farlan and Isabel, he was nit the same person as he is now. This was his first big loss after a very long time and his reaction is natural.

This time he also had a chance to say goodbye and knew this is what Hange decided themselves, but his feelings here are also Important in that moment otherwise Isayama wouldn't show his empty expression on his blog.

[implexedactions]

Hello, Little One - Shoto Todoroki

So, do any of you like microphilia? No? Didn’t think so, but here it is anyway! A yandere giant Shoto Todoroki

Shoto is aged up and a pro hero!

Warning for Yandere Content and Microphilia

Beta’d by best person: @patchworkpiper​

---

“Hello, little one.”

You shudder at the sound of his voice as he steps through the door. What had been a nice nap to escape from reality was pulled away as you found yourself once again in this prison. You move off of the small bed, and to the bars of the metal cage you’re trapped in.

You barely knew why you were bothering to respond at this point, but he was the only human you had seen in…however long you have been here. The room you were in seemed to have the singular purpose of housing you, with very little else here. Your cage was in the north of the rectangular room on a table, with the door at the south, and the couch along the west wall. There was a large window (deadbolted with curtains, of course) in the east wall.

As his colossal form walks through the room towards you, his footsteps shake your cage. Shoto Todoroki, one of the city’s most well-known hero’s strolls over to you. He crouches down, his cold eyes peering through the bars at your tiny 2-inch form.

“How is my favourite little pet doing?” He questions, as you hide behind blankets and pillows. He is standing at his full height, making you eye level with his crotch. Looking down from his nose at you.

“Terribly. I hate it here. I want to go home. I wish you would die.” You state listlessly back to him.

His eyes thin as he sighs, exasperated.

“We have already gone over this, MULTIPLE times… If I let you out, you won’t be mine. You won’t be safe anymore. That would be unacceptable.” You feel the room get warmer as he grows more tired of your antics. You guess today wasn’t a good day at work.

“I’m not yours! You just stole me and shrank me!” You shout back at him, voice rising as you get angrier and angrier.

“…Pet, disrespect is not welcome here. I’m willing to overlook the odd comment here and there, but you know what will happen if you fight back…” His threat hangs in the air, as you reminisce about…that day.

--

“Little one, stop struggling, I NEED to wash you.” Probing hands prodded at your form as you moved backwards in the small basin, huddling in a corner, treading water, and using your nails to try and dig into his skin whenever it came close.

“Fine then. I hope you learn your lesson, brat.” His fingers grabbed you and shoved you underwater. You tried with all your might to pry them off, but they wouldn’t budge. Your breath was running out, lungs burning as your brain tried to force you to take a breath.

--

“…Sorry…” You avoid his eyes and look at the ground, hiding your face.

“Now little one, I have a surprise for you. I’m SURE you’ll appreciate it, right?”

He opens the cage door, reaching his hand in and grabbing you. His fingers close forcefully around you as he stands and strolls to the couch. Sitting upon it, he places you on his lap. You try not to think of which organ you're standing on as he continues speaking.

“Close your eyes for me, okay? I’m sure you’ll love it. I’ll have to touch you to put it on, but I promise I’ll be gentle.”

You close your eyes. You’ve already been disrespectful, and there’s only so far you can push Shoto before he’ll push back.

As he touches your neck, a bell is heard. Something coarse gets wrapped around your shaking neck with gentle precision. You open your eyes and your hand touches what you assume to be a collar. He brings a mirror up, so you’re able to see it in better detail. You see a red collar, sturdy and utilitarian. It carries with it a small gold bell, which jingles when shaken. It also has a nametag at the front.

“It says ‘pet’, in case you were wondering. I’m unsure if you can still read to be honest…It HAS been a while since you were intellectually challenged; living this life of luxury and whatnot.”

“I can still read!”

“Now THAT is a shock.”

“I don’t want to wear this! I hate it! It’s so uncomfortable!” All you're able to do is mess around with it helplessly and hope he doesn't choose to tighten it.

“Pet. Stop fussing. It was custom made, and if you break it, there WILL be consequences.”

“Why should I care?!” Punishment be damned, you can’t take him anymore.

“Hmm?” He raises an eyebrow, and peers down at you.

“I HATE it here! I hate you! What gives you the right to do this to me! I'd rather live out my days in that godforsaken cage than have you touch me again!” You scream the ugly words at him, you’re sick of him, sick of your life. He pinches the bridge of his nose and growls in frustration.

“Just give up already! We both know you’re not getting out of this! Why are you so disobedient?!” He glares at you, roughly grabbing you off his crotch and bringing you up to his face.  His fist encapsulates you, only letting your head move around.

“I want my old life back! I’m sick of YOUR hideous face being the only face I see!” As you shout the words at him, he drops you as he recoils in shock and hurt. 

Oh no. You cower, knowing you’ve fucked up. NEVER talk about his scar. 

He drops you back on his lap and brings the mirror to his face, his other hand touching the scar in a forlorn expression. His eyes scrunch up a bit, mouth wavering. This is the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him. That vulnerability quickly dissipates into rage. Letting out a roar, he throws the mirror against the wall, shattering it into a thousand pieces. 

“Wait! I didn’t mean it like that! I’m sorry!”

He angrily glares at you as you feel less confident in your words. You can feel his hot breath hitting you as he seems to be thinking. He pulls out his phone with and starts typing furiously, before a few chimes emit from the phone. He hasn’t said anything for a good while, and your heart is pounding. His face returns to a more self-satisfied expression as he looks back to you.

“Hmmm. Okay. That’s possible.” He says, a hint of malice in his voice.

“Wait, what?” Your eyes widen as you fear his sudden change in attitude.

“I said that is possible. I can arrange for you to see someone else for a while.”

“Are you letting me go?” You aren’t that hopeful, but maybe?

“That isn’t what you said, pet. You said that you wanted to see a new face. THAT I can provide.” You don’t like the sound of that.

“This is going to be someone worse than you, isn’t it? You’re not that slick, Todoroki. You’re basic.” A grin overtakes the face of your captor as your stomach sinks. It appears you forgot your place again.

“Oh, getting cocky now, are we? Let’s see if you feel that way after a week with my old man.” Your blood runs cold. His father, Enji Todoroki?! You’ve seen the man before, on TV and whatnot. Shoto speaks of him sometimes, seemingly trying to use his trauma as a bonding tool. It mainly just instilled the fact that Enji Todoroki was someone to be feared, someone who wouldn’t give a second thought to anyone he didn’t think was worth the time. You highly doubt he’d even give you a first thought.

“W-wait, w-what?”

“He's a bastard. A lot less forgiving, if you catch my drift. He hates distractions, and I don’t think he’d be all that fond of you, pet. I do not envision dealing with him to be all that nice. He is a cruel person, and I think having a pet to torture would be right up his alley.”  

“I thought you hated him?”

“True, but he’s really been trying to gain my trust. And he’ll do basically anything I ask. Even looking after a pet for a week.” Your blood is pumping, you can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“I-I-I-” You stammer, trying to find any solid ground in this argument. Shoto just grins and continues.

“Of course, he’s quite forgetful and dismissive. So, I wouldn’t expect him to remember to feed you or really care for you-”

“Why- why would you-”

“-or maybe he’ll just drop you on the ground and expect you to fend for yourself for the week. Surviving his day to day life. His footsteps, workouts, and daily routines, surviving off crumbs, stolen food, and the like.” You can’t take this, your sassy front has crumbled away. Shoto’s threats are too much for you to push back against. 

You can’t imagine surviving a week with Enji, him burning you if you don’t do exactly what he asks. You can only be so defiant against the person who rules your life. Shoto has won this argument. You can only give in and pray that he doesn’t go through with it.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to say what I said!” Shoto just looks at you, looking smug, and continues.

“After all, he doesn’t have much time for arrogant, stupid, tiny pests.”

“Please! I’m sorry! I don’t want that!” You are shaking now, on your knees in his palm, head sagging.

“Oh, am I scaring you, pet? I mean, there are other possibilities...” You jump at this chance to be good again. Anything to keep you away from Enji.

“Like if I behave, or make it up to you?” You’ll do anything he asks, you just need to not end up with Enji.

“I was meaning my father. He doesn’t have anyone in the house anymore and he seems quite lonely, he might take a liking to you. Constantly being around you, or demanding things of you. He might really take a fancy to you.” 

Wait, what?

“W-what do you mean, exactly?”

“Well. My old man doesn’t have anyone in the house, he’d probably latch onto anyone new he could care for…or train. I think it’d be cute, no? A huge, strong man like him, fawning and fussing over my pet. He might view himself as a grandfather.” Shoto chuckled to himself lightly. 

“Imagine a man like Endeavour, constantly wanting to be around you, hold you, feed you, bathe you, sleep with you. It’s not impossible to think that he’d be loving towards you.” It sounds better than Shoto’s treatment of you. Enji might be kinder, if he was like what was just described?

“Is…that meant to be a threat? He’d treat me better than you presumably.”

“Well, no, he wouldn’t. See, my old man is the type of man to get frustrated easily. His quirk is fire, and he has a VERY short fuse. If you don’t act like the PERFECT little pet, he’ll get mad, fast. And let’s face it, you’re a brat.”  You regret ever waking up from that nap. You also regret all the actions you’ve made since that nap.

“Think about it, burning large manly hands grabbing for you, or giving a downright villainous glare because you DARED deny his affection.” Okay, staying with Shoto was the better choice again. The idea of being around either version of Enji shook you to your core.

“I-I…Please don’t make me go with your father! I’m sorry for what I said! I really am! Please, don’t make me spend a week with him!” He seemed to stop and consider it, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

“Hmm. Will you stop being such a brat?”

“Yes! Of course, I’ll do anything!”

“Kiss me, on the lips.” 

You step back, legs shaking, eyes darting to his lips in terror. He’s requested this before, but you always denied it. It’s too close, too personal, too intimate. It’s an act that would seal the corrupted relationship you two share.

“W-what?”

He brings his palm, with you on it, closer to his lips.

“Come now, little one. You said you’d do anything to prove to me you won’t be such a brat.”

Hesitantly, you move closer, wrapping your arms around yourself. Swallowing thickly, you slowly lean forward and place your tiny lips on his, sealing the deal. He’s holding his breath, waiting anxiously for you to prove your loyalty to him.

As you lean back from the kiss, he breathes out, warm breath washing over you. 

“Thank you for that my pet. You truly have established your loyalty to me. I just have one more thing to ask of you.”

“What is it? I’ll do anything, I swear!” You just don’t want to end up with the devil. You know how much ‘fun’ Shoto could have with the word ‘anything’, you’re not an idiot. But anything is preferable to Enji.

“In a couple of days, I’ll be going away for a week or so. International hero conference, you know the deal. You will have to stay with my old man for that period.” 

Your stomach drops as you start crying. He...he lied to you! He betrayed you!

“B-but…you…you promised!”

“I said nothing of the sort. I simply asked if you’d stop being such a brat, to which you responded enthusiastically. Not my fault you misinterpreted what I said.” A wicked grin overtakes his face, as his hand cocoons your body, leaving only your head.

“I HATE YOU! You’re a villain! What makes you think you can do this?! You’re just like your father! I hope you both rot in hell together! I hate you!” You’re past the point of caring with Shoto, he can burn in hell for all you care. Although considering he is giving you to Todoroki Senior, the feeling might be mutual.

“Hahaha, little one, ferocious as ever. I DO hope you’ll survive the week with my father, it’d be such a shame otherwise.”

[anadrawzone]

Tawnas departure

Wrote by: Ana González | Translated by: Oxide Mr. Crumb

- … Cortex was defeated. Do you know what that means? -

After an endless adventure touring tropical islands; Ancient ruins, rivers and waterfalls, mines, laboratories and even a macabre castle, our orange hero had finally managed to banish the villain. A battle between two opposite poles that, without hesitation at all, would surely have its revenge.

Now he just had to stay with the girl and live happily ever after, a wonderful ending to the story of these two lovebirds ... Or so it was supposed. -------- --------

Tawna and Crash watched the beautiful sunset on the horizon. Filled with vibrant warm colors, sitting in that old purple blimp. Crash was happy, fulfilled that he had achieved his main goal; his beloved was safe from any danger and no one was going to threaten them again, their own creator had fallen to a (possible) death and they were reunited again, but the girl did not look as happy as him. That confused him a bit.

While they "saw" the landscape, strangely the blonde girl was not paying attention to the beautiful image, instead, she was immersed in all her thoughts, doubts and desires staring at absolutely nothing. The little boy couldn't help but think that there was something wrong that was bothering him, so he slowly approached to see what she had.

- Uhm… ¿Mh? – The furry touched the blonde's arm gently, but hard enough to pull her out of her trance.

Tawna got up a little nervous and a little excited, turned to see the boy and began to talk to him in an animated way.

- Crash! You know, I really can't believe it, Yo- You came and rescued me. -She took a little pause to catch his breath. -Now that Cortex was defeated. Do you know what that means? - Crash shook his head somewhat confused, but interested in knowing the answer. Tawna leaned down to get closer to him and whispered. - It means we are free! -

- Woah. - Crash didn't quite understand; he knew all that, he had just experienced it ... Was it something so surprising?

"We can do what we want, be what we want…" Tawna moved from side to side, shaking a little. She could barely contain his excitement; Crash was quite curious of that. She was always someone very calm. - We can LEAVE THIS PLACE. - The girl took her partner's hands, joined them with hers and smiled at him. -Let's use this airship to get out of the Wumpa Islands. Crash, where would you like to go? We have so many possibilities. -

-…-

Crash did not take those words so well, he had to think about it for a couple of seconds, but he made the decision firmly, changed his face to a more serious one, taking a couple of steps away girlfriend and breathed a little. -Ah, ah. -

He shook his head firmly in denial, something unexpected for Tawna, who believed that the marsupial would be totally willing to go with her, that made her feel a lump in her throat. - No? ex-excuse me...? - With some pain, small tears began to fall from the blonde's face, even if Crash had not answered, her reaction would have been the same. She slowly sat down so she could catch up with the orange.

Crash felt bad, he didn't expect her to react that way, he got closer again and placed his hand on Tawna's shoulder and she looked up.

-I don't understand, why would you want to stay? - - Uh! Ah! - Crash tried to make various gestures, trying to tell the girl that he couldn't just leave, he felt that he should stay in this place.

Now that he thought about it, he had never seen beyond the Wumpas Islands, would it be worth leaving his home? Also, what about the flora and fauna of the islands? Without Aku Aku's protection something very bad could happen ...

I understand that your heart is very big, but you haven't seen the things that I saw when I was a prisoner. YOU HAVE NO IDEA ... - Tawna took a breath of air and began to count all the atrocities she had witnessed, things that only few mutants managed to see ... because she was not part of the army forces itself.

The blonde was created with a different purpose, her intelligence and attitude were perfect to stay after army operations and also to be Crash company; a hand that moved the strings, planning movements and giving orders, as well as a reason for his strongest general to always be loyal to his master.

Not being created to fight, the blonde never went through the lethal tests of Dr. Cortex and instead of having a strict training, she had some freedom to explore the castle, to learn the necessary and analyze everything she could. The girl was curious and would soon regret learning too much. ____________________________

Brio wasn't the best at keeping an eye on Tawna, regularly letting her wander alone and talking to other experiments wich she never saw again, very regularly wondering << Where will so many animals go?>>.

One of those days the girl found that "the subject" was being taken to one of the mysterious tests, the girl with some nerves began to follow her partner from a distance, while he was taken by two laboratory assistants; the mutant followed them quite happily, taking long strides while admiring the castle walls, as if it were a simple morning walk. After a certain time, they reached the test chamber, where the voice of their creator was heard through a speaker on the wall.

- Are you ready? - Asked the evil Dr. Neo Cortex, with some joy in his voice, Crash only responded by shaking his head up and down, while Tawna (without having entered) watched everything from a window placed in one of the walls.

What she saw did not liked at all, because, although Crash had no idea at the time, he was crossing highly lethal obstacles; Explosives, fatal falls and possible splinters could be seen from all sides ... this was inhuman, now the girl had an idea of ​​where most of the friends that the bandicoot had made for weeks were going. Thinking of the worst for her partner, Tawna closed her eyes, wishing he managed to survive and not have to re-enter that ugly place again. Fortunately, the first of his prayers was fulfilled, unfortunately the second was not.

Weeks and even months passed, but the girl never managed to meet her goal, at least Crashworth was skillful enough to pass the tests without problems ... but only a few managed to reach the half. The blonde was grateful that she didn't have to go through all that, but she wished that no one else was forced to follow this silly plan of world domination, so she tried to resort to many things. She tried to talk to his friend and best company about the danger he was exposing to, but there was not much to do, Crash had a routine that became more and more strict, with less time in the cages and more in training, by far, whatever he wanted, he couldn't find a safe way to reunite with the girl without alerting the security of the place, so Tawna looked for other alternatives to undo all this. She spoke hundreds of times with Brio, it seemed that he did want to resign, however he always retracted his words, contradicted himself or ignored his surroundings.

- Yes, yes sweet one, we will end this soon, but I cannot disobey the master so easily ... maybe if we joined forces, we could… uh... No-no, I- maybe, ugh. SIGHT. I don't want to deal with this anymore. I feel like they're watching us, I could be in trouble …-

- But Brio I know you can convinc- The subordinate man's alien hand covered her mouth, seeing what appeared to be Cortex's shadow approaching.

- I can't, stop trying. It's time for you to go back to your cage ... you are not supposed to learn about this. - This was the case until the fateful day when the Cortex Vortex was used on the remaining mutants, after several failed tests and breakdowns that our blonde had caused in sabotage attempts.

____________________________

-I'm so glad that neither of us had become an evil slave of that cretin ... Now do you understand why we should not stay? He could still be here! -

- MHM! - Clearly Cortex could still be on the islands somewhere, but Crash was sure that there was still some goodness in that man, he could feel it, hear it. Something that Tawna surely did not know, if Cortex came back ... he should at least try and prove that there is still a kind heart within the doctor.

Having made his girlfriend understand this, she finally resigned herself to accepting her lover's wish. It was sad to think about it, both of them had supported each other when they did not know anyone else, always trying to see for each other, but now their paths were going in different directions ... they did not want to separate, but they were not going to force the other to do something they did not want.

Crash walked over to Tawna and gave her a big hug, while she was still sitting up. -Okay, you want to stay, but I can't do it… not with what I saw, not when I couldn't even protect myself, I wouldn't want to be a hindrance and that you have to worry about me. I'll be back… when I'm strong enough… Maybe we can go on an adventure together that day, okay? - A few tears came from both of them, each one gently dried the other's cry.

Thus, having agreed to separate, Tawna still couldn't leave and leave Crash completely alone and to his own devices, so she stayed for a few weeks while they built a nice home for him to live in. They spent beautiful times, laughed and rested on the seashore ... But despite all that new peace, they still felt the threat of Cortex in the air. His memories were still very fresh.

Crash took a stick and began to write in the sand "Where do you plan to go?", Then stung the blonde a bit slowly. Then she turned around and read the message.

- "I ... I don't really know." - The girl began to think a bit. She did not know the world as it is, she had only heard of it, but never gone. -I have a small map around here, maybe I could start with a somewhat remote place ... Wait, I'll go find it. - She stopped and entered the half-built house, looking among her things for a map that she remembered keeping. Meanwhile, Crash was waiting on the beach, Aku aku appeared out of nowhere (Literally), returning from having checked the status of the Islands. - Fortunately, there hasn't been any sign of Cortex around here in a long time, but I think I've seen an unknown mutant near here. I couldn't check if it was hostile or not so the best thing would be to prepare for whatever is coming. Its coming. –

Crash complied with what his mentor said and quickly stood on guard, ready to await a possible attack from a new enemy. Seconds later, the bushes in the distance began to rustle, moving strongly, much more than it would if a normal animal were behind them, so the marsupial was sure the enemy was there. A couple more steps and the creature emerged from its hiding place, falling as it became entangled with one of the roots of the plants around it. - Huhf! - The orange boy approached slowly ... looking at the creature he thought it did not look like a monster ... or a dangerous mutant, the creature was small, thin and with large blond hair. The girl got up slowly and our hero realized that he was a bandicoot just like him and Tawna ... how strange, they thought they were the only ones of that species created by Cortex

- ¿A-are you… Crash? – Said the girl touching her head. -Yes ... I would recognize I would recognize you wherever, you are something famous brother. -

Aku aku was quite surprised - Wait, brother? - The mask made his protégé move a bit away from the stranger, putting himself in front of her face (which Crash was unable to see, so he began to look out from all possible sides).

- Ehh… Ok, explained it. - He took a breath, raising one of his hands as if pointing to something.

- My name is Coco, I was created by this "Cortex" - While Coco said that Crash said in a low voice “¿Da-Daddy?”, something that made the minor make a somewhat disgusted face. -Yes ... you could say that he is like your father ... not mine, only the one who created me. He told me about you, he said you were still around ... he said you had abandoned me. And well I wanted to know if it was-true. -

- Crash, Crash!! I know it took me a long time, but I found the map. There is a very large island near ... - Tawna left the house euphoric, but stopped in her tracks when she saw the unknown mutant and was placed in a battle pose. - Who-who is she? -

-Coconut. Crash's sister… I need to talk to you. - Coco began to explain why he was here, what had happened these last weeks. -Well, while you guys escaped, I stayed behind. I always wondered why they had run away without me, it's strange. But I did not trust that strange bighead, if you are my family ... why would you? -Oh dear, we… we had no idea that you existed- The two older bandicoots went to hug the smallest, they knew that Cortex could be someone very cruel and liar.

-I think I've been lost for weeks… I didn't know if they were still here, I'm glad I found them. I thought I would be alone on this desolate island. Thanks. -

Coco smiled as they continued with the hug, which lasted a long time, the Bandicoot family just as it had suddenly grown a little more, in the same way it would lose a member. At least Crash would no longer be completely alone, with Coco and Aku by his side, any evil could be stopped. And Tawna? She would go a little calmer. Nervous about going somewhere unaccompanied, but she had to. She had to prove to herself that she would never be a damsel in distress again. Thus gathered all together, they continued talking throughout the afternoon, what they would make of their lives as they would keep communicated. The older blonde ultimately decided to venture to live near Sydney, Australia; due to the good reviews of the place. In addition to having received a curious message from some mutants that were established in that place. Tawna remembered them and thought they had perished during tests and experiments, but somehow, they also escaped without anyone knowing.

--------------

It took another 2 weeks until the house was completely finished. With decisions made and ready to be executed; Tawna packed her things, climbed into the old Cortex airship, and said goodbye to the brothers.

-I will write and send you messages whenever I can. Don't stop saving the world, please. - The girl dropped her suitcases to be able to receive a hug from the two boys, the last hug.

- We hope you find your place soon. Be the best version of yourself. - Coco was quite happy for her friend, but sad for her departure while Crash shed a few tears that he couldn't contain.

- ¡A-dah! – Crash said enthusiastically.

- Bye guys, take good care of yourselves. - The girl finished getting on the airship, taking flight and going to explore the endless world. Who knows, maybe one day the 4 of them can get together again as one big family.

- Let's go home, kids. - Aku aku thought of preparing a good hot chocolate to spend the cold night in the jungle, inside a little house surrounded by trees, where three heroes rested waiting for a new evil to fight.

[thetorchwoodarchive]

Gwen Focused Stories as Submitted by the Mods and Users of the Torchwood Archive

Everyone! Thank you so much for your submissions! Recs are under the cut!

As always, please mind the warnings and ratings listed on each individual story. 

Feel free to reblog with additions!

Something Beautiful by Cyus (Gen | complete | 4,500 | PG)

After Torchwood, after Jack, Gwen lives her life, even as Jack comes back.

Domestic Disharmony by thirteeninafez (JackIanto, GwenRhys, Gwen&Ianto, Gwen&Jack | complete | 3163 | G)

In which Jack and Gwen get stuck in the Archives and discuss green milk, thermostats and Ianto Jones.

Side Note by Aliciajazmin (Gwen&Ianto | complete | 1027 | T)

A few months after her best friend's funeral, Gwen runs into Rhiannon while grocery shopping. Ianto's sister has some questions and Gwen has some things she needs to say to her.

Inevitability (and other hard truths) by violetmessages (Gwen&Ianto | complete | 1236 | T)

There's a clock ticking down at Torchwood, and Gwen realizes she's the only one who hears it.

All Around Me are Familiar Faces by gwendolyncooper (Gwen&Ianto, JackIanto, GwenRhys | complete | 2602 | G)

Gwen Cooper wakes up in Jack Harkness' bed. Ianto Jones wakes up in Rhys Williams'. And they find themselves in each other's bodies. As close as they are, this might be a level too deep in their friendship.

Blueberry Knees by Violetmessages (Gwen&Ianto, JackIanto, GwenRhys | complete | 3878 | T)

If Ianto thought about it, the way Gwen’s illness progressed was rather like falling asleep. Slowly and surely, but then all at once.

He hadn’t noticed it at first - he still loathed himself for not recognizing that something might be wrong. But he hadn’t, no one had, so it slipped through, like little crumbs falling between the crack of their ancient sofa.

And there was nothing to be done about it.

Power Struggle by Prochytes (GwenTosh, Gen | complete | 1416 | T)

How Gwen ended up in charge by the start of Season Two, based on the premise that one should never assume Jack Harkness is joking.

Bad at Communication by engagemythrusters (JackIanto | complete | 1740 | G)

In which Gwen visits a hospital, where Jack and Ianto, respectively tired and high, are complete idiots.

The Hands on the Clock Keep on Ticking by Violetmessages (Gwen&Ianto | complete | 10235 | M)

They all knew it could happen to anyone. They’d all seen the proof. Even if it happened to a miniscule amount of the population, it was still a possibility.

But they had grown complacent. They had forgotten that they too were also at the mercy of the Rift, that the Rift did not make an exception for those who knew its existence.

They had forgotten until they were faced with it themselves.

In which Gwen and Ianto get sent back to 1969 by the Rift.

Pastries, Avoidance Tactics, and a Bottle of Scotch by pocky_slash (Gwen&Ianto, GwenRhys, JackIanto | 6220 | G)

In which Gwen said something she regrets, Ianto makes a poor dinner choice, Rhys offers sound advice, and Jack has a key. A different sort of "Meat" post-ep.

Children, Daleks and Mopeds: How Gwen Cooper Got Her Groove Back by paycheckgurl (Gwen&Jack, GwenRhys | complete |  9603 | T)

Following a disastrous shopping trip that put her at the center of an explosion, Gwen finds a little alien boy.

Or: The series of events in which Gwen acquired another child, had a much needed conversation with Jack, bought a moped, defeated a Dalek with a boxing glove, and learned that loving yourself and saving the world don’t need to be mutually exclusive.

A coda to Revolution of the Daleks where I explain why Gwen has a son all of a sudden.

I Don’t Know What to Think by  aliciajazmin (GwenTosh | complete | 2637 | T)

Gwen and Tosh travel with the Doctor through time and space, taking a break from Torchwood. Gwen decides to bring along her pet rat Owen (not to be confused with Human Owen). Also, Gwen and Tosh are desperately in love with each other.

Lost Inside by Xennon (Gen | complete |  36,642 | T)

The team go in search of some smugglers.

A Vision Too Removed to Mention by Pocky_Slash (Gwen&Ianto | complete |  13920 | T)

In which Ianto is stuck in a time loop that feels more like hell.

Club Wales by Pocky_Slash (Gwen&Ianto | Series |  69,530 | G-T)

 In the wake of Jack's disappearance, Gwen finds comfort in a new friendship with Ianto. Gossip, bonding, and other hijinks of understanding ensue.

To the Waters and the Wilds by Violetmessages (GwenTosh, JackIanto | complete | 13190 | T)

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Tosh whirled around. She’d thought she was alone, she’d expected it.

Then she locked eyes with the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen, a woman who seemed to radiate an ethereal glow, a woman that emanated an otherworldly light.

Cold Pizza by  Eberesche (GwenRhys, Gwen&Ianto | complete | 4767 | T)

With Jack missing and the Rift running the team ragged, Gwen's plans for a single night in are foiled.

Safe by DinoDina (GwenToshRhys, GwenRhys | complete |  1191 | G)

After the cannibals, Gwen doesn't go home with Owen. She rides back to Cardiff — back to Rhys — in an ambulance with Tosh.

Dead on Arrival by violetmessages (JackIanto, GwenRhys | complete | 13582 | M)

Ianto Jones wakes up. The only problem is, he's certain he was dead.

You Won’t Be Seeing Us Today (You Won’t Be Seeing Us in Hell) by Beleriandings (GwenRhys, JackIanto, Gwen&Ianto | complete | 11141 | T)

One day, Syriath took Gwen's voice. She should have realised Gwen wouldn't stand for that.

Girly Night In by Mathemagician (GwenTosh | complete | 1088 | T)

The girls and Ianto have a night in. Gwen figures something out about herself.

For the Torchwood Femslash Fest prompt "Sexual Identity"

This Earth is Empty Without You (But the Grave is Not) by violetmessages (Gwen&Ianto, GwenRhys, JackIanto | complete | 1036 | G)

Ianto Jones' funeral happens on a perfectly sunny day. Gwen hates every minute of it.

In a Polaroid Picture by innocent_until_proven_geeky (GwenTosh, GwenRhys, Gwen&Jack | complete | 2176 | G)

Gwen finds a photo of her and Tosh, and remembers.

Exit Protocol by Beleriandings (GwenTosh | complete | 6139 | G)

Not long after the deaths of Tosh and Owen, Gwen gets a message from an unnamed user on the Hub system. That really shouldn't happen. And yet, there it is.

To the Sticking Place by zephyras (JackIanto, GwenRhys, OwenTosh, MarthaMickey | complete |  96433 | M)

The end justifies the means. Failure is not an option. There is always a choice, except when there isn't. These are the phrases Ianto Jones lives by and he refuses to allow anyone, even Captain Jack Harkness, to change that. Jack/Ianto, AU, Torchwood One Agent!Ianto.

These Happy Days by Violetmessages (GwenRhys, JackIanto, Gwen&Ianto, GwenJackIantoRhys | series |  16,777 | G-T)

A series of non-chronological stories in which Ianto miraculously survives CoE in some fashion and Torchwood Three (plus Rhys and Anwen) settle down near the seaside.

Piece it Together by Beleriandings (JackIato, Gwen&Ianto | complete |  3442 | T)

Gwen realises that for all they talk, she's never asked Ianto about how he and Jack got together before. The answer is a lot more complicated than she was expecting.

Respite by Beleriandings (Gwen&Ianto, JackIanto, GwenRhys | complete |  2590 | G)

Even by their usual standards, Gwen thought it was absolutely fair to say it had been a rough week.

Dancing in the Midnight Garden by Fionn_sgeul (Gen | complete |  17660 | G)

In which Gwyneth the Maid and Gwen Cooper are the same person, Jack meets someone else whose life was completely turned around by the Doctor, and Torchwood is invaded by garden gnomes

Don’t You Know For Years You’ve Haunted Me by Virtualsilver (GwenRhys, JackIanto | complete | 12083 | T)

Gwen has inherited a recessive trait that has lurked in her ancestors' blood for generations: she is prescient. She can see flashes of where the timeline is heading and can feel when something - or someone - changes it.

She tries to use her foreknowledge to change events for the better, but securing the outcome of her interventions proves to be a challenge.

He Really Loves That Coat by DracoPendragon (JackIanto | complete | 585 | G)

It was quiet when Gwen entered the Hub that Monday morning. And the sight that greeted her was not one she’d expected, but wasn't one she minded seeing.

Sink Your Feet into the Mud (and I’ll Return) by violetmessages (Gwen&Ianto, GwenRhys, JackIanto | complete | 3404 | G)

What if she could bring Ianto back?

It’s a dangerous idea. It’s got the potential to be catastrophic. But Gwen is all out of options. She’s surrounded by the graves of the people she loves, abandoned, save for her husband, and she refuses to let her best friend go without a fight.

Painted in the Sand (To be Washed Away) by moonlightrhosyn (Gwen&Ianto, GwenRhys | complete | 1992 | T)

Gwen could still see their bodies every time she closed her eyes.

This is Me Trying by gwendolyncooper (GwenRhys, Gwen&Tosh, GwenOwen | WIP | 2524 | T)

“Sometimes you do stupid things to try and cope, to get a sense of normalcy, to make all this chaos and the Rift and space and aliens and the things we see make sense. Stupid, horrible things that should never have happened, and they come back ‘round to bite you again, and--” “What happened, Gwen?” Tosh’s prodding is soft and careful, but it speaks the glaring truth they both know - Gwen is stalling, talking around the issue at hand. Verdant eyes flash upwards with a startling intensity now, wide and filling with unshed tears again, the special agent’s plush lips pressed into a trembling line as she attempts to retain a semblance of control over her emotions. “I told Rhys about Owen.”

Fourty-Eight Hour Stand-Down by pocky_slash (JackIanto, GwenRhys | complete | 2740 | G)

"You and Ianto had a domestic," Gwen guesses. Jack scowls at her. In which Jack is kicked out, Gwen just wants a night off, Rhys buys milk, and Ianto clears table space.

Ret-comp (Retroactive Compensation) by reiley (LisaIanto | complete | 499 | T)

The phone. The one that could call any place or any time in the whole universe. The one Jack had locked away and warned them all that it was never to be used.

Any Other Day by Amand_R (JackIanto, JackGwen, GwenRhys | complete | 84055 | complete| NR) 

Hey, this one time? At Torchwood? Gwen and Jack switched bodies and everything went pear-shaped.

Space Tripping (in spaaaaace!) by Princessoftheworlds (JackIanto, IantoOther, GwenRhys, Gwen&Ianto | complete |  5115 |T)

Gwen and Ianto road trip across space - space trip, get high, shop, have a light existential crisis, face grief, and get massages - not all necessarily in that order.

Empty Chairs by princessoftheworlds (Gwen&Ianto | complete | 412 | G)

Gwen tends to Ianto's wound.

Forever, And What Comes After by Violetmessages (JackIanto, GwenRhys | Complete | 10028 | T)

“Hm, imagine if they did,” Ianto said. “Torchwood would have to come out of retirement.”

In which Gwen and Ianto relax at a spa, Jack and Rhys attempt bad science, and Anwen is just along for the ride.

One In The Same by Violetmessages (Gwen&Ianto, GwenRhys | Complete | 1638 | T)

Ianto, Gwen thinks. Her best friend would never turn her away, and maybe she can sleep on his couch for the night. Perhaps by the morning she’ll be okay again.

Wastin’ Away In Margaritaville by Paycheckgurl (Gwen&Ianto, JackIanto, GwenRhys, Gwen&Jack | Complete | 1419 | T)

Jack’s bad coping mechanism is agreeing to be a surrogate for an alien spawn baby. Gwen’s is at the bottom of a bottle.

Big Finish: Expectant from Gwen’s POV