#Instead it turned into some sci-fi action-y kind of thing

[mortiferumsomnum]

Soup Kitchens and Runaway Ghosts

NEXT>>

Dani let out a breath of relief. Danny’s injuries were all accounted for, and now he’s fast asleep on the makeshift bed that she made out of cardboard and scratchy cloth that is... semi-clean. There were still bandages that Jazz threw in a backpack that she packed for Danny before Dani flew as fast as she could out of their house, clutching onto Danny as hard as she could until she knew that they were safe and away from his parents and the GIW.

An old, abandoned apartment that seemed haunted (but not really) was the best place she could take them.

But with only clothes and bandages for Danny in the backpack, there wasn’t any food. She took a look outside, and deemed it still early for a few soup kitchens to still be open, especially for dinner.

So, she leaned down, patting Danny’s head, whispering how she’ll be back as soon as she could. She’ll just get some food for Danny and her to eat. She took her own pack, filled with ice-cream containers and plastic spoons that she’s collected over the months she went travelling.

Then, turning invisible, she flew out of the abandoned apartment building.

***

- Okay, so, what happens is that Jason runs a soup kitchen. He’s still Red Hood, and the people helping him run the kitchen are his Goons. But his Goons have no idea that Jason is Red Hood. They just think that Jason is someone Red Hood wants to help, and the Goons love helping the dude. Not just because he’s good at cooking, but because they actually feel like they’re doing something good when they help.

- There’s always a new face coming into the soup kitchen, new kids that ran away from toxic home environments, people who lost their jobs and became desperate, families who are trying to get by... 

- Then, Jason felt a chill run down his back and the Lazarus Madness in his mind hiding away where Jason couldn’t feel it. He looked around to what could have caused that reaction, and locks his eyes on his black-haired, blue-eyed child carrying ice-cream containers asking one of his Goons, Bill, if he could fill it up.

- Bill doesn’t ask questions. He told all of his Goons that are working in this kitchen to never ask questions when someone asks for more, or to bring some home. Just do it.

- She doesn’t eat in the dining area that Jason set up, instead tucks away the sealed soup and bread, and some eggrolls Jason taught his goons to make, and walked out of the place.

- The Lazarus Madness then returned, though still dulled and almost whining in annoyance in his mind.

- Shaking his head, Jason walked in to replace the empty pot of soup for a new one. Then, he turned to Bill to take care of the place, saying he needed to report to Red Hood something.

- “Is it the kid with the containers earlier?” he asked.

- “Yeah,” Jason just decided to reply. “I just have a... feeling.”

- Bill frowned and told Jason that he got it from here.

- Jason went out back, opened his security cameras to locate where the kid went. But, when he went to the time the kid walked out of the door, it was like she just disappeared into thin air! Jason wondered what was with the girl that caused the Lazarus Madness to crawl into near inexistence to the back of his mind.

- But Jason decided that he’ll look more into it later.

***

- The young girl shows up a the next day. This time, not only does she ask for the containers to be filled, she even asks for her water bottles to be filled with drinking water because the water jugs that were brought out were empty.

- Interestingly, the girl seemed more tense in front of Jason, squirming where she was standing and trying hard not to stare at Jason, looking away when Jason directs his gaze to her.

- Does she also feel how she’s pushing away the Lazarus?

- A question for another time. He had food to give out.

- This time, Jason and Bill were switched. Bill, his faithful student in the art of cooking, is in the kitchen cooking up more soup while all the other Goons were putting together some ham and cheese sandwiches. And Jason with some of the other goons were giving out the food.

- Jason calls for one of the other goons to change the empty water jugs with new ones while he fills her containers with soup, one container with some rice porridge, and another one with the sandwiches his goons put together. He gave enough that could be eaten for two people. 

- When Jason sees the state of the little girl’s water bottles (it’s the plastic water bottles, and it’s all crinkled up like paper), Jason tells the little girl to wait and goes to the back kitchen (noticing when he looks back how the girl relaxes as he leaves) to get one of his water bottles that he stole from Bruce that he wasn’t using. It was big, enough to be filled with four glasses of water.

- Jason could always steal another one. Not like Bruce was using them anyways.

- So, after washing the bottle, he steps back out, refills the bottle, and gives it to the little girl. Her eyes widen, letting out an excited gasp, seeming to forget how tense she was in his presence.

- “I can have this?!” her eyes were sparkling towards him, and Jason couldn’t help but let out a little laugh.

- “Yeah! I have plenty more where that came from.”

- The little girl stuffed the containers in her bags, and the water bottle last. Then, she gently brought her pack over her shoulder.

- With a grin towards Jason, she said, “Thanks Mister!”

- With a huff, Jason says, “Just call me Jason.”

- Repeating his name and thanking him again, the little girl was out of the soup kitchen.

- Checking the security feeds again, she disappeared into thin air just like last time. There is seriously no trace of her walking out the moment she exited at the same time as other kids. Either she’s really good at stealth and misdirection, or she’s a meta.

- Jason wouldn’t be surprised if she were one.

***

- For the next 3 days, the little girl keeps coming back with newly washed containers, and even comes over during brunch times. 

- But Jason notices how she’s getting more anxious as the days went by. So, on the 6th day she came over, Jason pulls her aside and asks her if there was something wrong.

- The little girl starts crying then and there. She has a kinda-brother, kinda-cousin who’s hurt from his parents hurting him, and he’s had a fever that won’t go down. She doesn’t know what to do, and none of the fever medicine she stole from the drug stores were working, and she tried getting the antibiotic ointment but Danny, her brother-cousin’s name, wasn’t getting better at all.

- Jason calmed the girl down. Bill, his most trusted Goon, said that he’ll man the kitchen. Jason should go help the girl.

- And Jason gathers some things that would most definitely be useful for some emergency first aid. Judging by what the little girl told him, this Danny would need to be brought to Leslie.

- Before they leave, Jason asks the little girl her name.

- “Danielle, but everyone calls me Dani, with an ‘I’.”

- “Does Danny call you that, too?”

- “We think it’s funny.”

- Jason is brought to a nearby abandoned apartment. On some ratty bed and covered by some blanket that was definitely stolen, lays a teenage boy whose breath was stuttering as he breathes. There was a cooling pad over the kid’s head.

- He ran up to the kid, and gasps when he feels the Lazarus Madness completely vanish from his mind.

- He ignores that for now, peeling off the blanket to take a look over Danny, who was sweating through his clothes.

- “Where is he hurt?” Jason asks.

- Dani tells him he’s hurt badly on his back and chest. He removes the shirt. The bandages were wrapped clumsily, but covered all the important parts.

- The important parts being wounds as if he was blasted by a ray gun, and cuts on his torso as if he was being dissected. A vivisection.

- “His parents were scientists,” Dani said from behind him. Jason turned towards her, and this time her eyes were glowing a familiar shade of green. He’s seen it many times in his reflection, but seeing it on another person made goosebumps rise on his arms. “I... I could explain what’s going on, but Danny can’t go back to his parents... Because his parents aren’t the only people who are after him... They’re probably after me, too.”

- “I don’t need you to explain to me,” he said, bringing out his things to perform emergency first aid. “But we need to bring Danny to someone who could heal him better, alright?”

- “No hospitals... he... his blood isn’t... normal...” she said, wringing her wrist with her hand, face scrunched up as if she doesn’t know what’s okay to tell him.

- Jason pursed his lips. He could... call in for one of his favors with someone the Red Hood knows. They’d ask for nothing except to repay him.

- So, Jason tells Dani to wait for him here. Don’t answer the door for anyone, because Jason will be coming in through the window to pick them up. He tells Dani to fix up their things, and to prepare because they were taking Danny to a friend of his who wouldn’t ask any questions no matter what he saw.

- Once he was out, and after feeling the Lazarus filling his mind up again with a vengeance, he calls Bill, telling him that he’s leaving the cleanup of the kitchen to him and the others. And that he’s also going to Red Hood for some help. Bill, who had also grown fond of the little girl who he shared his Stolen Femurs story with, was worried but told him to stay safe, and to keep the kid safe.

- After hanging up, he changes into his Red Hood gear, calls his illegal doctor, and drives his Hoodmobile (lovingly named by Dick - 9 years old at heart - Grayson) to the apartment where Dani and Danny were staying. But he also found some suspicious White Van, and some people in white suits holding... blaster guns? Those are definitely blaster guns. They were probably the ones who hurt Danny, then.

- Red Hood parked his car in a location he would easily be able to get into, and scaled the apartment to the floor Dani hid her and Danny in. He knocked on the window, lifting his helmet up a little to show his domino-mask-less face. He put it back on as he went inside. Just like he told Dani to do, all of their things were fixed. By the panic on Dani’s face, she knows about the suspicious people. 

- “I can carry Danny out of here without being seen,” she said. “But me and Danny could easily be tracked by them because of what we are... But I can be quick. I promise!”

- Dani didn’t even wait for his reply, something green shined in her hands, and she easily picked up the kid, easily floated into the air, and easily turned invisible.

- “So that’s how you managed to disappear from my cams,” he said.

- He couldn’t see her, but he could tell that she was grinning. He took their packs and scaled down the walls.

- But just as he landed, a blaster gun was pointed at his face.

- “Can I help you gentlemen?” he asked the men in white. 

- One of them was holding some kind of gadget that was rapidly beeping when pointed at Jason’s direction.

- “There are three ghosts in our current location,” the one holding the gadget said, staring pointedly towards Jason.

- “Well, that’s just rude,” he said, because he’s more of a zombie than a ghost, and immediately punched the one pointing the blaster in his face. He disarmed him, grabbed the blaster for himself, and disarmed the other men in white whipping out their own blaster guns. With every shot, a blaster was destroyed. And when Jason accidentally hit a pole, that pole had a melted hole, creaked, and fell to the ground.

- The blasters were stronger than Jason thought, and he was wondering how Danny survived such a thing. He took out a smoke bomb and through it to the ground, using the smoke to get to his Hoodmobile. (God, he hates that name.)

- Once he was in the driver’s seat, he dropped the packs beside him and called for Dani. “You guys in here?”

- “y-yeah! We’re in the back!” she said, letting go of the invisibility. Danny’s head laid on her lap, but his breathing seemed to be getting worse.

- “They’re this way!”

- “Shit.”

- Jason starts the car and starts driving. 

- The Hoodmobile is breaking every traffic law known to man, but so were the men in white’s van, which also had some built in blasters Jason knew Tim and Batman would secretly drool over. The vans seemed to multiply the more corners he turned.

- These men in white don’t seem to care about property damage, either. Or about civilians being affected or injured by the consequences of their blasts.

- Thankfully it was night, and Jason was calling for Oracle to respond.

- “Hood, who are the people chasing you?”

 - “No idea, but they pointed some blaster to my face. Called me a ghost with some gadget they use to track for some,” he said. “No matter where I go, they seem to be able to track me because of what I am.” He was using Dani’s explanation for this. He cursed and turned a hard left to avoid hitting a civilian. “I don’t know what the range for the gadget is, but I need you to disable it so I could get somewhere safe.”

- “On it,” Oracle said. But a few seconds of swerving around the road later, he heard Oracle curse.

- “What is it?”

- “Their tech is all protected by something. No matter how much I hack into them, a newer code just keeps coming in to stop me.”

- “Can you fry their systems?” Jason asked.

- “...I could,” said Oracle. “But we’d never get the information we need form them. Are you okay with that?”

- Jason snorted. “You know how I get my information,” he said, jokingly. “You Bats and your fancy technology got nothing on threatening people with guns.”

- With a huff, Oracle began typing rapidly on her computer. And, in 5 beautiful seconds, the Vans all screeched to a stop as the technology in their vehicle fizzles and pops in tiny explosions.

- Jason threw some smoke bombs outside his window, and broke even more traffic laws driving to the outskirts of Gotham.

****

NEXT>> (Masterlist)

[avatar-news]

The Fire Nation Awaits 🌺 An in-depth look at the ever-elusive islands in the era of Korra and when we will finally pay them a visit

[Artwork by Avatar News; not official.]

Note: This article was published before the official announcement of Avatar Studios at the Paramount+ investor day.

“Water. Earth. Fire. Air. Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.” We’ve all heard those words a million times. The four elements, and the power to control them bestowed by four subspecies of giant lion-turtles, are at the very heart of the world of Avatar. The balance between them was once upon a time broken by one of the four, the Fire Nation, forming the main conflict of Avatar: The Last Airbender. For much of Aang and the Gaang’s quest at the close of the Hundred Year War, the Fire Nation was a forbidden, far-away location, until the curtain was finally drawn back in the aptly-named Book Three: Fire when our heroes entered the inferno, undercover behind enemy lines. A dramatic tropical destination! New outfits! Culture shock! Needless to say, it was a big deal.

→ 🌺 The big reveal of the Fire Nation in Book Three: Fire had its own marketing push, matching public anticipation.

When the Hundred Year War ended, the newly-instated Fire Lord Zuko dedicated his life to righting the wrongs of his forefathers and working with Avatar Aang to bring the Fire Nation back into the fold under peace. By the time Aang’s successor debuted as the next Avatar in the titular The Legend of Korra, Zuko had abdicated the five-pointed crown and his daughter, Fire Lord Izumi, took the stage leading a reformed, rebalanced Fire Nation.

There was no more war, no more enemy lines, yet the Fire Nation became more distant and mysterious than ever before.

Korra’s close encounters with the land of fire

To this day, Korra has never visited the Fire Nation, nor has it been seen at all, nor do we know anything about it in her era. In fact, practically the only thing we do know is that its leader is a noninterventionist, which conveniently gets it out of the way of making an appearance in Korra’s journey as the Avatar so far.

The closest we have come to seeing the Fire Nation in The Legend of Korra was in Book Two: Spirits, Chapter Five: Peacekeepers. In the midst of the Water Tribe Civil War, Korra sets out across the sea to get help from the royal family, however, she is intercepted by a dark spirit and never makes it to her destination. In the next episode, she washes up on a secret island home to the Bhanti sages, which probably technically counts as Fire Nation territory, but as we know from The Shadow of Kyoshi (more on that later), this faction predates the Four Nations themselves so it doesn’t really count.

→ 🌺 Korra washes up on the beach of Bhanti Island in Book Two: Spirits, Chapter Six: The Sting.

No, as cool as that location and the events of the Beginnings two-parter that happened there were, it wasn’t the main draw of seeing the Fire Nation that we’re still waiting for: seeing how the Fire Nation, which was already industrializing in Aang’s time, changed over the decades, compared to places like Republic City and Ba Sing Se; meeting new characters; visiting new and familiar locations; worldbuilding both new and expanding on what we already learned.

After this aborted tease in Book Two, we never come close to the island country again (at least not with this Avatar and in her era; yes I’m leading up to something...). Instead, the focus turns strongly to the Earth Kingdom in the third and fourth Books, and beyond.

Keep in mind that The Legend of Korra aired for about two-and-a-half years total from 2012 to 2014. Since then, the story has continued in comics. The comics era has lasted from 2015 to present-- seven years to the animated series’ two. In that time, there have only been two comic trilogies due to various production troubles, and neither have touched the Fire Nation. Instead, they directly continue the Earth Kingdom-focused threads started in Books Three and Four of Korra, both originally airing in 2014. Or, in perspective: we had a focus on Republic City in 2012, the Water Tribes in 2013, and the Earth Kingdom from 2014-2021.

Will we finally see the Fire Nation in the next graphic novel trilogy?

This question comes to mind every time new Korra content is supposed to roll around, and the powers that be know it-- it’s a pretty obvious gap in the world of Avatar right now. This franchise is iconically built around four elements and the Four Nations based on them, so one of them being MIA is quite glaring, and for that reason everyone is understandably always asking about it.

The most concrete confirmation we’ve gotten was this AMA answer from franchise co-creator Michael Dante DiMartino in 2016, two years after the show ended and a year before the first graphic novels did come out:

“Yes, hopefully in the [Korra] comics, we’ll have a chance to go to the Fire Nation and see how it has changed since A:TLA.”

Since then, as previously discussed, two comic trilogies have come and gone, obviously not getting closer to the Fire Nation-- and I would actually argue entrenching themselves further away from it.

I want to make it clear that I’m against fan entitlement. Creatives telling the tales they want to in service of the story and the artform is how the industry should run. I’m just hoping to offer some perspective on how we got to where we are almost a decade into the era of Korra and the metatextual pacing of the franchise itself.

Either way, the next Korra comic trilogy has been official confirmed by the editor for Avatar at Dark Horse Comics in this informal statement on Twitter:

We’re not ready to announce any details yet, but we are working on the next trilogy. I really appreciate your patience and hope it’s worth the wait! ✨

There’s currently some kind of holdup for which we really have zero context or information, and we of course have no idea what this next trilogy will be about. (I do speculate a bit on what it could be a few paragraphs down.)

But, like what turned out to be Ruins of the Empire before it, I faithfully made a mockup graphic for my post announcing the confirmation of the next The Legend of Korra graphic novel trilogy. And like before, I chose to completely speculatively and blindly make it Fire Nation-y, as if the next comic could/would(/should?) feature it. This is mainly because I feel like that’s what most people’s eyes would be caught by and thus result in the most successful post (hey, at least I’m honest), but also because it’s just fun.

Here are both images, from 2018 and 2020 respectively:

→ 🌺 Speculative edits I made for my posts on the announcement of previous and upcoming Korra comics before we knew anything about them.

In both cases, the response was huge, and people were super excited about the prospect of Fire Nation content just from my quick speculative mockups. I am of course hoping that the new artwork I made of the Krew for this post will have a similar effect (it’s the first time I just straight-up drew it instead of editing existing images) but again it’s really mostly just for fun.

Anyway, until the next trilogy is properly revealed, we’ll just have to wait and see.

However, that’s not the only place this could happen.

Are they saving the Fire Nation for an animated movie?

With Avatar’s HUGE success on Netflix last year, interest in the franchise rocketed to an all-time high. The streaming wars have begun, and Avatar’s owner and its parent company, Nickelodeon and ViacomCBS, have finally started to notice.

ViacomCBS is launching Paramount+ on March 4th, a relaunch of its existing streaming service CBS All Access. Paramount+ is meant to be a big expansion and refocus to compete with the big hitters: Disney+, HBO Max, and, yes, Netflix. (There’s quite an entanglement there, with Netflix being the home of Avatar’s big year and the upcoming live-action series.)

One of the keys to a successful streamer today is high-profile originals to drive new subscribers. ViacomCBS knows this and they know Avatar has just become among the highest profiles a property can have, breaking records and going toe-to-toe with other big-hitting sci-fi/fantasy/genre franchises. This knowledge goes right to the top of the food chain: the CEO of ViacomCBS mentioned Avatar by name when discussing potential originals for Paramount+.

I have previously discussed how The Search relates to this. The Search was the second ATLA comic trilogy, focused on the search for Zuko’s mother in the thick of the Fire Nation, and if you didn’t know, it was originally pitched by Bryke as an animated movie after the original series ended.

I just want to be clear that what I’m discussing here is purely speculative, but this is the only other piece of the Avatar franchise that we know was optioned for animation besides the shows themselves. It’s possible they would be interested in going back to this idea as a Paramount+ original (and it would certainly be popular among audiences), but it is of course set during the era of Aang and thus covers both a time period we’ve already seen, and also by nature of already being released as comics, events we’ve already seen too.

However, the whole point of this article is that there is one major, huge thing we haven’t seen yet, with massive anticipation building for a decade behind it: the Fire Nation in the era of Korra. So, again, this is just speculation, but it’s also possible that they could return to the very smallest seed of the original idea for a The Search movie, and do a Fire Nation-focused Korra movie now.

→ 🌺 ATLA’s Fire Nation-focused The Search was originally pitched as an animated movie.

You can skip this next part if you don’t want to see me embarrassingly promote my fan idea 😆 but this is where the artwork I made for this article comes into play. The general idea for it, and the reason I tried to replicate the show’s style as much as possible, is that it’s what a Fire Nation-focused movie could maybe look like. Something as standalone and unrelated to Earth Kingdom drama as possible, with fresh new looks for the Krew to get people excited for something fresh and new! I really feel like the Avatar franchise has so much potential for expanded content like this, that’s why I have high hopes that Paramount+ will make the most out of it! You can see the individual characters’ artwork in larger size here. Ok I’m done back to business.

If the idea of a movie seems too impossible to you, we can also take a deeper look at Bryke’s involvement with upcoming comics instead.

After Korra ended, they officially each went their separate ways. They vaguely consulted on Avatar stuff, and Mike of course wrote the Korra comics, but Bryan was planning on writing and drawing his own original non-Avatar comic series and Mike was releasing his own non-Avatar novels. This all appears to have come to a stop when they signed on to showrun the live-action retelling of ATLA at Netflix, officially reuniting the partnership and committing to Avatar again in a big way. Of course, they ended up leaving that project over creative differences, but it did result in a big, lasting change: this time they remained official creative partners and have indicated they’re still working on Avatar now, together. This is a far cry from the official breakup after Korra, so it begs the question what exactly they’re working on. I of course have my fanciful predictions of a sprawling expansion of the Avatar franchise at Paramount+, but what if it’s actually a combination of the ingredients from before the live-action series...

More speculation, but what if the reason for all the mystery behind the next Korra comics is because they will be made by Bryke, with the two of them co-writing and Bryan doing the art for the first time? If that’s the case, they could want to make them a bigger deal than the other Avatar comics have been so far, and maybe that’s why it’s taking so long to iron everything out, have a more significant story, have more of a marketing push, etc. If they’ve been saving the Fire Nation for something big, this could be it.

I personally think this is less likely than a show or movies or something, but it is possible. Anything is possible right now since we know so little about the large-scale direction of the franchise moving forward, just that it’s gonna get big.

⛰️🌋 The Fire Nation in the era of Avatar Kyoshi

We’re not done! Despite everything I’ve written here, believe it or not, the Fire Nation was actually the star of the show in the last year.

With the debut of the Avatar franchise’s first original novels, Kyoshi made a huge splash (in a way only she can). If you haven’t read them yet, you NEED to-- they’re some of the best Avatar content EVER. The Rise of Kyoshi hit shelves in 2019 and The Shadow of Kyoshi followed in 2020. The latter is of particular interest here, because it was almost entirely set in the Fire Nation and featured practically everything and anything you could want from a visit to elusive islands. Though obviously set in a historical period some four hundred years before Aang’s time, Kyoshi’s sojourn in the Fire Nation gave us a huge amount of new information, a depth and breadth of worldbuilding, culture, and character we’ve never really seen in Avatar before. It truly makes the most of the literary medium, so hats off to author F. C. Yee for the passion and effort he put in.

In The Shadow of Kyoshi, we learn about the era of the previous fire Avatar before Roku, Avatar Szeto. Through Kyoshi and her own Team Avatar, we learn about the different clans and islands of the Fire Nation, as they experience the fraught early reign of Fire Lord Zoryu and the conflict between the Keohso and Saowon clans, culminating in the Camellia-Peony War. We get a multitude of fleshed-out perspectives from the upper crust to the flea-bitten underworld, matching the heights of the worldbuilding quality of Republic City. It’s such cool, intricate stuff, and really shows Avatar’s potential (and that’s all just the worldbuilding-- the character work is also top-notch).

That’s not the only place the Fire Nation has shone recently. One of Insight Editions’ awesome scrapbooks, Legacy of the Fire Nation, gave us a tour through the royal family’s history, including never-before-seen looks at young Iroh and Ozai and much, much more.

All this just goes to show that the Fire Nation has been a hot ticket throughout the ages and there’s one conspicuous gap in that history: the era of Avatar Korra. With so much recent expansion and development of the Fire Nation in our world, it would be perfect to see the culmination of it all in the current time period in the world of Avatar too.

If this made you excited for the potential of what the Avatar franchise could look like in the coming years, same boat!

The next concrete date where something could be announced is February 24th, when ViacomCBS will host their investor day and present their streaming strategy, including Paramount+ originals. There’s no guarantee Avatar is mentioned, but I’m keeping a hopeful eye out.

As for comics, Dark Horse’s schedule marches to its own beat, so there’s no way to know when the next drop of information is coming our way.

Could this finally be the comics that take us to the Fire Nation, or could the much-anticipated visit be in another medium like animation? Stay tuned-- as always I’ll post as soon as we learn anything new!

[jaeminscoffee]

The midnight man | l.ty

Pairing- Lee Taeyong x reader

Mentions- Lee Donghyuck, Na Jaemin, Liu YangYang, Nakamoto Yuta, Seo Johnny, Kim Doyoung, Ten Lee, Lee Dong Wook.

Genre- Horror!au, angst, crack, part fluff.

Warning(s)- Evil entity!Taeyong, Manipulation, Major character death (lmao you'll actually punch yourself towards the end), sexual themes suggested, impulsive decision making, talks with religion.

Word count- 11.83k

Synopsis- 'Lust though pleasurable, innocent and vice, thee shall stay loyal to thy partner regardless of wants. To betray thy partner is to deceive thy people and hence the kingdom. Thou shall pay for thy soul shall remain wandering, driven by the desires but, shall not be able to feel the human love thou took for a grain of salt. And all who shall follow thy steps shall face the same wrath.'

@kpopscape

This story is pure work of fiction and therefore doesn't speak about the mentioned members' personality in real life. I, in no manner, am trying to encourage hate speech towards the members so please don't come at me. This story was written using a mix of a bunch of urban legends and few made up by myself and therefore it isn't going to be spoken about the same way as it is in google. I also worked really hard on this piece and it's by far, the longest story I've written so feedbacks would mean a lot!, also it could get a little boring since i took time to focus on the side characters too. Make sure not to repost my works and sign it off as your own because that's a little disheartening and mockful towards the writer. So all credits reversed to @jaeminscoffee 2020©®

If anyone here doesn't know the story behind the midnight game, then read on! Because I've described it throughout the story! Happy reading!

29/10, Thursday, 10:57PM

"We need to do something this halloween man, Y/n come on!" 

Your friends all collectively whined as you constantly kept rejecting their proposal. 

Halloween is bullshit. It's overhyped and in all honesty, childish. You'd rather prefer staying home than go house to house and make a fool out of your existence. Not to mention you were all past the age of trick or treating. And to add on top of that came all the sugar rush you'd all go through at the end of the day. "For the last time, Hyuck we're not dressing up like crewmates and going trick or treating. I've got other things to do for the love of god" you grunt, rubbing the scrunched up skin to soothe the pain at the temples. University has been acting up again and so has life. "If your 'other things to do' is binge watch high school musical then no, you have no other better things to do" Yangyang bites back. 

"It's just, I don't feel like it anymore, alright? It feels too weird going out asking for candies when we're all literally 19 and above. It's time to up the notch." you say, plopping down.

When Haechan called for an emergency meeting in pure 'among us' style back at the guys' dorm, you'd expected it to be about something along the lines of having to console Jaemin or someone for having been stood up on a date. What you didn't expect was to have the boys prepare an entire presentation on who'd dress up as what character from among us and who'd be the impostor, do a little play and then say 'red is sus' and then ask for candies. What made it worse was that you thought they were just pulling a prank on you when in all reality, they were dead serious which made you go, 'oh, oh they aren't pretending to be stupid, they're just in their original form.'

"It won't be that bad, doll. It's a genius plan if you ask me" Jaemim chirped in on the conversation finally after looking back and forth between you, Donghyuck and Yangyang caught up in a meaningless fight. "I don't see how any of this is genius, Jaem. If this plan's anything, it's stupid." You pull out your phone after making your way all the way to the headboard of Jaemin's bed. "How about we try out one of these creepy pasta games?" Yuta finally spoke up. Jaemin's brother, an early graduate, senior and of course a dear friend of yours. Yuta, despite the age difference between your classmates and you, had little to no trouble blending in with the tiny group of yours. Probably the only one who didn't behave like a toddler and the most sane one according to you. Yuta's been an amazing planner since junior year where you first met Jaemin, Yangyang and Donghyuck who then proceeded to introduce you to their senior friend group that consists of Yuta, Johnny, Doyoung; Donghyuck's cousin and Ten. You guys had a friendship the entire campus was envious of. But two year after you getting into the university, the seniors had to graduate. But that didn't stop all your bonds from staying as strong as ever. Not even after Ten got his posting in a town a little far away from the one you guys lived in. The distance didn't change anything between you guys and you were as close as you could ever get. 

"Creepypasta?" Donghyuck inquired, looking straight at the guy who aimlessly scrolled down the screen of his device as Yuta didn't even bother looking up while passing the confused boy a nod. Sitting up cross legged from his previous side sitting posture, Yuta showed his phone screen to Donghyuck, who immediately got surrounded by the other two while you stare at the oldest in the room, slightly intrigued by the idea. "Creepypasta's like these horror-related legends that have been copied and pasted around the Internet by people who're too bored for their own sake." you explain as Haechan took the phone out of Yuta's hand who agreed to your explanation. "I read some sick games that I kinda wanna try out and see for myself," he said, looking at you with expectations and then the rest who seemed too immersed in surfing the website. 

"Yuta, you of all people should know better than to think all these made up crap's real" you say nonchalantly. 

Yuta's a huge skeptic, and so were you. Which is why you got along really well despite the mentioned age gap. The night gatherings back at the boy's dormitory or the girls (in this case, girl, yours) would always end up in narration of on spot made up stories of all genre, mostly horror because apparently according to Jaemin 'Rom-com's overhyped, sci-fi won't be fun when you narrate it out loud, mystery can easily turn boring, comedy, meh i guess, but a good horror story narrated properly, -yes, like you, Haechan- while adding jumpscares here and there could actually result in y'all being too scared to use the bathroom on your own'. And yeah, you'd startle here and there but the stories weren't believable enough for you to actually be scared. On the other hand, Haechan and Jaemin were scaredy cats. Literal toddler's who're so gullible, you could literally tell them there was an alien invasion news flash two minutes ago and they'd be hiding under their bed. And then there's Yangyang, he just doesn't care. He goes along with the plans solely for the fun of it and for the other's' (Haechan and Jaemin) reaction. "That's the point. I don't" he shuffled around to shift closer to you,

 "Which is exactly why i want to try them out" 

Maybe it's the feline that crossed over his body, maybe it was the fact that his spirit just wasn't ready to leave the human realm yet. Maybe it's the mourning of his family or maybe it's him himself knowing full too well his potential was truly wasted due to the fast departure. Whatever it was, his spirit was definitely made restless. 

The world is a cruel place where harsh actions are always sugar coated by honey like words. It's how he knew the doings of his people were wrong that made him disappointed. The practices of the people, his people, were stupid, meaningless and only harmful to the human kind. They fend off the satisfaction of their almighty even if that means that there needs to be sacrification of their loved ones, their nemesis, or them themselves. And it was his ancestors fault for starting all these practices. 

Passed down generations from generations was the curse put on the first of their bloodline by the princess he'd defied to go out and be ruthless by disregarding his duties as a husband, a father, a member of the royal courts and as a human being.

Lee Dong Wook. The root of all evil, the main reason the males of the family line faced the same wrath as him, all cursing at him but one namely enjoying his role. The pagans, dating back to the roman times era had a very, let's say, interesting method of punishing. The said lords they'd worship, the people following the religions had a strong belief that nature is sacred and that the natural cycles of birth, growth and death observed in the world around us carry profoundly spiritual meanings. Gods and goddesses of life, or say, death or anything else that exists beyond life and death, they believed in all. 

The doings of his ancestors started off innocent. Sacrifices to the lords of goodness and tranquility, a peaceful life by the towns and outskirts, forgiveness for wrong doings and of course, happiness. It's how any religious rituals would go about and all were happy until the said betrayer of the group came in with that curse of his. 'The doings of his shall be repented for all the men following shall be the one paying it,' 

At first glance when the man returned back to his royals, there were little to no suspicions of a curse being casted on him. He seemed normal to his family, his people except for the occasional forcing people to do something they despised. And it wasn't just the men of the family instead, it was all. But mostly the men, unless the same sin were to be committed by the females. Obscure behaviors have been asked to follow starting exactly at midnight to the witch's hour be it hurting your loved one, your enemy, doing sinful things, allowing self to get manipulated and mostly, shortening their own life time in the human realm. It was all unexplainable. Why was he asking people to do things like this but most of all, why are they even listening to him? 

It wasn't until they discovered that Dong Wook, for one, was never the one who returned home. On a second note, he, 'Dong Wook' mainly only targeted the men whose doings were similar to his that was fueled by the same sin that had him going. Which only remained undiscovered. The curse was unbeknownst to all still, Dong Wook himself remained undiscovered. Or proposed by the elders of the community, his body remained undiscovered while his spirit roamed restless among the people. 

The pagan romanticists are, in most cases, ignorant of the “paganism” they praise—the redeemed paganism of Christianity depicted in the transfigured water of the True Well of Life. Wrestling with the Greek gods, however, leads us to see the hyper-anthropomorphization of the gods with one intention in mind—justification of sexual lusts and displays of power over the weak.

The oldest written account of the Greek deities is from Hesiod. His Theogony, literally “birth of the gods,” charts out the genealogies of the major and minor deities in two branches. The first set of gods come into existence without sex. The second set of gods come into existence with sex; often very graphic and violent sex and they continue to have violent sex after their birth. 

As Hesiod continues to describe the birth and death of the gods and great monsters of antiquity, the chaining of Prometheus to his eternal torment is described. So too is Hades’ rape of Persephone. Battle is depicted left and right, and “a terrible din arose from their dreadful wrath, and the work of power was revealed”. Lust, sex, and war reign supreme in Hesiod’s telling of the birth of the gods. Moreover, it is from this brutality and carnality that Hesiod gives them praise—only those with enough cunning and ambition are worthy of having the praise of the muses.

That the gods birthed through sexual lust are themselves lustful was not missed by Christians of the pagan community. Though St. Augustine received the Romanized version of the Greek myths, he goes to great lengths and laborious pains—using the pagans’ own prophecies —to highlight the moral depravity of the gods in Confessions and City of God.

His sin, after all the years, was lust and the want to dominate. 

'Lust though pleasurable, innocent and vice, thee shall stay loyal to thy partner regardless of wants. To betray thy partner is to deceive thy people and hence the kingdom. Thou shall pay for thy soul shall remain wandering, driven by the desires but, shall not be able to feel the human love thou took for a grain of salt. And all who shall follow thy steps shall face the same wrath.'

Oh, how lust was a dangerous feeling. 

29/10 continued. 11:28PM

It's how you all circled around in the living room like any other day that was comical to you. Instead of reading out your own made up story, it so happened to be the Creepypastas Yuta screenshotted for what he wanted to try out and see for himself. It wasn't even his idea to read them out. Haechan and Jaemin's 'too curious for their own sake' selves were the ones who wanted to read it out loud. "How about we sit in the order of who's gonna read out what and when?" Yangyang suggested, standing up from his seat. "Yuta read out the topics and we'll pick randomly." 

"No fun! Hold up," Haechan did some pretty exaggerated hand actions before getting up and heading to his room, well, Jaemin's room to do who knows what. "Okay? I'll get the candles!" Yangyang said, him getting out of his seat too, "And I'll go get the bible, jesus christ" and Jaemin was out of his seat too. You look at Jaemin in a funny manner, as though questioning him with your eyes if he's actually going to get a bible or not, "What? I don't want to die young, I'm too hot for that" he said, before following Haechan's steps to his bedroom, "Yikes, you aren't going to die dude" 

"Okayy, I'm back, make way bitches" Haechan dictated to which he earned a few groans and a smack on the ankle from Yuta, "Jaemin! I can't find the candles!" "It's beside the Reese's cups! Second rack inside of the refrigerator!" Jaemin says while walking back up to your tiny circle with an empyre comic in his hand and a cross pendant dangling off of his neck, "That's a bible?" you question. "Shush, do not question the power of avengers and fantastic four." Jaemin replies, holding the comic up close to his chest. You all collectively dismiss it with a concerned look directed towards the male, "Are we not going to question the fact that Jaemin keeps his candles inside the fridge?" 

"So here's what we're going to do, I've got these tiny papers which have numbers from 1 to 5,because we're five people and I've folded the paper into chits, once i toss it, we pick random sheets and the number you get is when your turn to read is, any objections?" Haechan explained, "Even if you have any, keep it to yourself because I don't care" he bites in again while juggling the folded sheets in a closed palm while the other supports his body by it being planted behind him. "Okay I'm back with the candles" Yangyang finally joins in on the circle, completing it, "You took that long to find one candle?" Yuta asks, "No i was eating the reese's cups" he replied, wiping his hand on your jean clad thighs earning him a loud whine of 'Eww that's disgusting man' and a little too far from soft smacks on his shoulder, "You piece of sh-" Jaemin starts, "Okay all, Focus!" Haechan cuts him off, ready to throw the bits onto the space between the five of you in front of the now lit candle (Thank you, Yuta), and so he tossed it a little high up from the ground, letting the paper fall of his palms and onto the floor while being cautious of not throwing it anywhere near the flame. 

"Now let's arrange ourselves according to the numbers, who's number one?" Haechan asks, Yuta raises his hands while pointing at where he's sitting, "I'm not getting up, y'all arrange yourself so that the person going second is to my right and the last person would be to my left", you all look at him nonchalantly, "What?" with a shake of your head, you proceed calling out numbers, "Number two?" Haechan shoves Yangyang back to take his place beside Yuta, "bitch." Yangyang seats himself beside Haechan, followed by Jaemin and lastly, you. 

"First, Yuta!" Jaemin slurs the elders name, receiving a death glare from his cousin. Nevertheless, Yuta cleared up his throat and switched his attention to his phone screen, "The first urban legend is from Japan, ironically." He states as a matter of fact, "It's called Aka Manto."

"Aka manto is an urban legend related to toilets—particularly those in elementary schools.-"

"Is that why you take a relatively long time inside of the bathroom? Are you, you know? Tickling pickles with Aka Mant-ow! Sorry!" Yangyang was wasted as he was tackled onto the floor by Yuta, while the rest of you cracked up, "Now let's get a little serious, come onnn!" Haechan whines. 

"This phenomenon is known all over Japan, with countless variations on the same theme. It usually takes place in a specific stall in a specific bathroom in the school. Usually it is an older or seldom used bathroom, often in a stall with an older style squat toilet.  Often the fourth stall is the cursed one, as the number four is associated with death." "I'm so glad our university has only two stalls," Jaemin chimes in, suddenly grasping the cross pendant. 

"Most stories follow this general pattern: while at school late in the evening, a student suddenly finds him or herself in desperate need of a toilet. The closest restroom available is one that is normally avoided by the students; it is older and less well-kept, separated from the rest of the school, and is rumored to be haunted. But with no time to search for a different restroom, the student enters. He or she does their business, and when they have finished, they reach for the toilet paper only to find that there is none. Then they hear a strange voice" Yuta looks up from the phone screen, "“Do you want red paper? Or blue paper?”" 

"None bitch, give me the classic white,"

With a roll of his eyes, Yuta continues, "If the student answers, Red paper, moments later, they're stabbed and sliced up violently that blood seeps out of them, painting the walls of the stall red and it soaks up into their body, making them appear red", "And if the student responds blue paper, then their blood is going to be sucked up dry, leaving them dead and blue-faced on the floor."

"But! If you try to outsmart Aka Manto, by replying to question with, i don't know, "Yellow paper" then too, dead is inevitable, you will be shoved onto the floor where the spirit is said hold your head down in the dirty toilet water until you drown and well, die" Yuta ends with a shrug of his shoulder, "Seems pretty bullshit to me" and you agree alongside, though, it could be a little creepy if the existing legend did turn out to be true. "Okay next!"

Yuta leans back a little more, pressing onto your side which you took as an invitation to lean on his shoulder. When you did so, all Yuta did was beam at you and wrap his arms around you to keep you close after handing the phone over to Haechan, "If you want me to start reading you have to give it up for me. Give me the grand welcome that i deserve" the lad said in a childish voice which again only earned him a few smacks and half hearted applauds. "So this one is apparently called, the one man hide and seek" though all narrations were being taken on a lighter note, the mood set in the room gave you enough space to picture the stories, added to that came the factor that Donghyuck knows exactly how to narrate what. 

"The "One-Man Hide and Seek", also known as the "One-Man Tag," is a ritual for contacting the dead. The spirits, which are wandering restless on the Earth, are always looking for bodies to possess. In this ritual, you will summon such a spirit, by offering it a doll instead of a human body." He lowers his voice while focusing solely on the screen.

"The warnings say that if you have any psychic abilities, you may feel unwell or be prone to accidents during the ritual." He raises his eyebrows, looking at all four of you in a curious manner. The things you need for this game seems lowkey sketch"

"One stuffed doll. It must have limbs, Rice, enough to stuff the doll full. One needle, and one crimson thread. One pair of nail clippers. One sharp-edged tool, such as a knife, glass shard, or scissors. One cup of salt water. Natural salt would be best. A bathroom, with a bathtub and some form of counter. A hiding place, preferably a room purified by incense and ofuda. There must be a TV in there." Haechan's face contorts with each requirement for the game. Letting out a defeated sigh, he hands the phone over to Yangyang, "Of all the stories i could've narrated, i got chosen for this and for what? Just to contact stupid poltergeists. Just play a ouija board and go" 

Giving Haechan a sympathetic pat on the back, he takes the device. Looking through the screen he cracks up a smile, "Alright, listen up closely. This is an Urban legend classic"

"The Slender Man-" a bunch of 'aahhs' of realization resonate through the room

"-is a supernatural creature that is described as appearing as a normal human being but he is described as being 8 feet tall and he has vectors or extra appendages that are described to be as sharp as swords. The creature is known to stalk humans and cause many disappearances. He is described as a shadow creature that has a missing face. The creature fits into many mythologies in legends from nations such as germany and celts which brings up the possibility that he could be real." Yangyang pauses to add in a little more life to his reading while all of your paid full concentration to him

"A man named victor Surge found this legend and made his own version of it which he called slender man. The slender man is not exactly evil according to mythology but victor Surge’s version shows him as an evil creature that stalks humans to kill. In mythology he was actually trying to save you from a painful death by taking you to the underworld early." he ends, placing the phone down in front of him, screen down. "Kills you to save you from a death and collectively shortens your lifespan? Seems legit to me" Jaemin chimes in while the rest of you chuckle whereas Haechan pouted at the device in front of his friend, "I should've gotten that story" 

"My turn!" 

"So, ahem-" Once the focus is all on him,Jaemin  looks down onto the device containing his part of narration. "- This is an urban legend about a girl named Daruma who was a young Japanese woman that died in the bathroom, which upon entering to take a bath, it stumbled and her forehead ended up against the edge of the tube, destroying it the brain, at the same time that her eye embedded in the tube , leaving it in consequence, one-eyed key and later , dead by bleed out."  "Oh god ouch" You hiss as though your forehead was the one that hit the edge, " Her appearance as described is apparently; black hair that is entangled, her clothes rotting and made shreds. She only has one eye. Her left eye is completely open and injected with blood." "That's gruesome," Yangyang adds, earning a nod from Jaemin who's eyes were still fixated on the screen. "And apparently there's a ritual that you can follow to summon her into your house for twenty four hours straight" At the silence, he continues. "I'll shorten it, so you have to begin it right before your bedtime, shed all your clothing and enter your bathroom, turn off all the lights and fill in your bathtub, climb into it while being seated facing faucet, close your eyes and start washing your hair while chanting "Daruma-san fell down" and keep chanting that until you're done washing your hair, and yeah don't open your eyes."

"If you did it right then you'll get this image of a japanese who'll slip and fall in front of you. Even if you hear a noise behind you, do not open your eyes, no matter what it takes, Ask out loud, 'why did you fall in the bathtub' and let that hang in the air. With your eyes still closed, get up and out of the tub and be careful not to slip and do not drain the tub. Go to your room, don't turn the lights on, shut the bathroom door closed and sleep. Wake up the next day and carry on with your day and you'll apparently feel her presence alongside you all day. She'll constantly try getting close to you, when she does, scream 'Tomare!',"

"That means stop," Yuta adds to which you all hum in understanding.

"To end the game, capture her gaze from over your shoulder and say 'Kitta' which means 'I cut you loose' while swinging your arm in a chopping motion. If you followed the procedures then you'll be rewarded but if not then, run. That's all it says here" He stops, looking a little shaken at how he created an image of it all in his mind. "They didn't say how to get rid of her if you fail following the procedure?" you ask

"No." Jaemin shrugs it off

"Alright boys, my turn"

30th October, Friday, 10:53PM

It's probably how you read out your part of story telling, or it was how he felt the game was a little too unrealistic that had Yuta hooked onto the urban legend. 

Yuta found himself at his dorm doing a little more research on the midnight ritual. A backpack already consisting of all the elements required for the game, 'could it really be played just by one person?'. Whatever it was, he really wanted to do the game. He wanted someone to accompany him, of course. But knowing his friend group, not many would be ready to play it alongside. Doyoung was probably busy preparing his resumes for his job interviews. Johnny's all the way back in Chicago for a little family time. Ten was a little too far from your town so he'd feel bad calling him all the way over just to perform a probably demonic ritual. Donghyuck and Jaemin are out of the question, they'd obviously say no. Yangyang has a company party to attend as the heir. And you had to study for your test on Monday so he didn't really feel like disturbing you though, he did inform you that he was going out to have some fun and that you could join him anytime. Closing his laptop with a sigh, he gets up and walks over to where his bag was sprawled across the floor, picks it up and makes his way out of the studio apartment like dormitory after grabbing his car keys. 

Not like he believed it was real, it's incase if the legend turns out to be even the slightest of reality, he wasn't going to get his dormitory haunted, instead opting to perform it at the house he grew up in, his childhood house. That was left abandoned ever since they moved out months before his younger brother was born after his father had an episode still unknown to him inside the place. It was convenient enough to perform the ritual in and no one lives there anymore, and it was just a few minutes from where his house was anyways. 

Reaching the place and swinging the backpack over his shoulder, he makes his way into the surprisingly still intact house. Not much time to waste, looking around, Yuta slowly made his way up the wooden stairs, the wood creaking with each step he took to prove the existence of this house dated long back. The guest room shut lock from lack of human souls even when they used to live there. The paintings still hung off of a single screw, nostalgia hitting him straight as he recalled the one time he was playing catch with a neighbor's kid and ended up breaking the glass frame. The wallpaper's adhesive seemingly had gotten weaker from how they had started coming out from nooks and crannies of the walls. The place, without doubt, looked a little creepy but nonetheless felt homely. 

Switching on all switches from the main controller that was in the control room right by the end of the hallway, the entire darkness was replaced with light as the bulbs shockingly still seemed to function. The warm white colour of the lights took Yuta all the way back to his growing up years, missing all the fun he'd had there and all the memories he'd created. He, though grew up mostly by himself from how busy his parents were on the weekdays and sometimes the weekends, missed them more now that they live far off in Japan with his mother's family. Especially now that he was in the place they spent the most time together in. Shaking his head, he had no trouble navigating his way to his childhood room. Where he set the bag down.

He reached out to his back pocket to get out his phone, switching it on as the screen illuminated, 11:28PM, the screen read. To kill the time, Yuta set up all the items required in place to proceed the ritual smoothly. He pulled his laptop out of the backpack once he was all set to maybe watch something on the internet. It being other peoples attempt at the ritual he was about to perform.

11:55PM.

Yuta inhaled, having only a few more minutes until he had to proceed. He recalled your words,

"Alright boys, my turn" You snatch the phone out of Jaemin's hand who seemed really immersed in finding out more about the legend he just read out about, earning a pout from him. "I was reading" he let out in a whiny tone immediately going stoic after receiving a 'do i care' look from your end. "Okay, so the story I'm going to read out is called the midnight man, or the midnight game" You scroll back and forth through the pages the oldest of the group screenshotted. "From what he's gathered, there's not much backstory, but apparently it's a ritual or mostly a punishment that the pagan's use to punish the betrayer of the group who failed to stay loyal to their lords or the group. One of the people of the religion will summon the midnight man to an abandoned house where they lock up the said betrayer who'll then be put through god knows what by the midnight stranger," You stop to look up from the screen to look at each of your friends before letting out a sigh. 

"My take on this though is that it's highly impossible since the rules here state that once you start the ritual you aren't allowed the leave the place until the game is completely done unless you want the midnight man to follow you around for as long as you live, so unless the midnight man actually favored the pagans, there's no way they could punish the betrayer without one of the loyal ones passing away along with the one being punished" you state, "But what if, it's the midnight man that they preach? You know, like, they could be praying the midnight man" Haechan adds in a point which seemed to make sense, "That's possible too" 

"Why would someone preach an evil entity? That's so sketch" Jaemin asks perplexed. "They did a lot of sketchy things back in the days, Jaem. I wouldn't question it," Yuta chirps. "Is there any other backstory given about the midnight man?" Yangyang finally speaks up, "Well not really, but when i was taking screenshots of this it apparently started with a curse on someone whose identity is unknown to most. There was no such thing as the midnight game or ritual until the said bewitched man came back into town. I only know up to there, but there are high chances that he's probably the origin of the ritual." Yuta explains. "Why does Y/n get the best always, that's so unfair"  Haechan's dramatic self whines while leaning onto Yangyang who rolled his eyes but nonetheless threw his hands around the latter's shoulder, "Anyways, the procedure for the ritual is given here."

"You need one candle, a lighter or a match box or anything that ignites fire, a piece of paper, something to write with, a sharp object, it could be a pin, it just needs to be something sharp enough to draw blood, a wooden door, and salt for protection-" You read out, "Now why the fuck would they need blood," Jaemin asks, shaken up. "That's for them to know and us to find out" 

"Here's how the invitation for the midnight man goes. Begin prior to midnight," 

Yuta stood up from his bed, and walked up to the backpack on the floor, picking out the papers he'd brought along and took out a blunt pencil. 

"Write your full name- first, middle, and last- on the piece of paper with your writing implement." He wrote syllable by syllable, Nakamoto Yuta. "Prick your finger with the pin and squeeze until a drop of blood appears. Dot the blood on the paper and allow it to soak in. Turn off every light in your home." He took out the small safety pin he brought along from his jean pocket, pressing his fingers hard and pricked into the skin as hard as he could, keeping in mind to not draw too much blood. Yuta let the droplet fall right in the space between his last name and first. 

"Place the paper with your name and blood on it in front of the closed wooden door. Light the candle using the matches or lighter and place it on top of the paper. If you are using a taper, make sure it is placed in a candle holder." He walks up to the door and places down the paper with his name and blood on it, with the half melted scented candle he brought along. Yuta took out his phone once again, 11:59. "Knock on the door 22 times. The final knock must occur precisely when the clock chimes 12am. Open the door; then blow out the candle and close the door. Relight your candle immediately." He starts to knock on the door, drumming on the dusty wood, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22.

He checks the time once again, 12:00AM.

He leans down to pick the glass jar containing the candle, relighting it, 

"I welcome you."

Taeyong loved the tiny creatures in the human realm. They were so naive and so, stupid but weirdly smart at the same time that made playing with them ten times more interesting. The callings from them, or the way they say it in the human realm, summoning the spirit was the only way he could gain access to enter the place. Summoning wasn't even necessary. Saying his name out was more than enough for him to go up to you. Midnight man, midnight stranger, midnight visitor, pagan's god, What not had the human's named him. 

The only one besides his ancestor of said curse that enjoyed the power of punishing people was Taeyong himself. The youngest of the bloodline and the freshest of pagan's spirit, he loved the power he had. Sure he had no access to love, instead besides lust and range he felt nothing, maybe amusement too, but none other than that and he seemed perfectly fine with that. Human's always seeked lust more than love either way so he found no problem in being void of feeling a vulnerable emotion. Instead, he found love pathetic. Watching human's from where he lived, he'd seen all from men and women seeking love by going to heights of trouble only to waste away your remaining life with one partner. Leeching off of pleasure at times when you had a significant other. He always got a hearty laugh from all of that. According to him, if you want someone, get them. Instead of tailing them and trying to be a goody two shoes, just make them yours in a way that's inevitable for them to fall for you. Control how they feel. Easier said than done since he was the only one with the ability to do so, 'how fucking pitiful'.

So when he saw you and your small group of friends discussing about him, laughing at all the assumptions you made along the way, he wanted each of you to himself. "My take on this though is that it's highly impossible since the rules here state that once you start the ritual you aren't allowed to the leave the place until the game is completely done unless you want the midnight man to follow you around for as long as you live, so unless the midnight man actually favored the pagans, there's no way they could punish the betrayer without one of the loyal ones passing away along with the one being punished" you're smart and that was intriguing to him. He liked the way you thought of things and the male beside you too, you both seemed to take tales of him as a grain of salt and that, besides angering him, made him feel the want to prove himself to you. Taeyong found the other three cute, seemingly scared of him just the way he liked it. 

His ancestor's who held the same power as him, the curse actually, came to be known as said lord because of their power of manipulation and to inject in their worst nightmare into their minds that had the people divide themselves into groups. One that believed the power they had was for the good and considered them to be their god, their savior. And the other being the one's scared of their power and the fear that the same faith would bestow upon them that had them pray for forgiveness for sins they never committed. So your friend had the point a little, but it was inaccurate. They believed him. Believed Taeyong and feared his power. He loved people bowing down in front of him, eyes trembling and body shivering. It gave him a sense of dictatorship. And he had set his mind to have both of you non-believers fear him. 

Having been brought up with little to no love, Taeyong followed down the same path as his great grandfather. Not having enough time to feel the vulnerable emotion, he chose to go down the path of pleasure and power play. His powers though, seemingly stronger than the past generations, probably due to the fact that he was young, ruthless and free of care. He could make himself appear physically in the human realm in any shape and form, though he always preferred to go in his original, but less scarier form. His visuals were out of the world. He didn't have to scare people to make them obey, instead all he had to do was pretend to be there and just be himself and that only made humans seem even pathetic to him. 

"Relight your candle immediately"

12:01PM, The main event. 

"Keeping your candle in hand and your salt and matches or lighter close by, begin to move about your home. Should your candle go out, you must relight it within the next ten seconds.  If you are successful, continue moving about your home. Do not stop moving until 3:33 am. If you are unsuccessful in relighting the candle, immediately surround yourself with a circle of salt.  Remain inside the circle until 3:33 am. At 3:33 am, it is safe to stop moving or to step outside your circle of salt. You may also turn on the lights. The game Is Over."* You conclude. Hissing slightly at the sudden pain by your shoulder that was exposed from the minimalistic clothing you'd adorned, the stranger looking over it all smirked to himself. 'Got it'

Yuta opened the door again, mindful to keep his phone back in his jean pocket along with the lighter and of course, the salt be brought along. Starting from the end of the hallway, nothing seemed to change except now, the eerie silence was starting to bother him, 'Just 3 hours to go,'. He didn't miss a single corner, walking room to room, corner to corner, mindful to stay inside all the way. The temperature of certain rooms seemingly lesser than others. A cold pocket. 

"There are few warnings too," you swipe the image to go to the next one, "At 3:33 am, the Midnight Man will leave your home. After he has left, you may safely end the game. Do NOT turn on any lights during the game.  Do NOT use a flashlight during the game. Do NOT go to sleep during the game. Do NOT use a lighter instead of a candle during the game." Check. He had a lighter on him just to relight the candle anyways. 

Taeyong, following the guy seemed to be quite impressed by his bravery. Not even the slightest of shaken up as he proceeded to walk about the villa. That's good, no slip ups and he seemed too good to mess anything up either ways, and that bored the entity. Where's the fun if he just succeeded? 

To avoid the candle from going off at the sudden flickering, Yuta covered it up the best he could with his hands and checked around whether any windows were left open. Darkness engulfed the surrounding all of a sudden, the lad being taken aback, 10 seconds. He rushed to take out his lighter, 9,  pressing the button repeatedly to ignite the flame only to get a small blue flame instead, huh? 8, running back full speed happy that he was in the premises of where his backpack is, he pulled the spare lighter, a brand new one out of the side pocket, 7, repeating the same process of flicking the button over and over, 6 until a bright orange flame engulfed the dark room, 5, he immediately grabbed his candle from besides the bag, 4 reaching in close by the wick, burning himself slightly in 3-, the process. Yuta heaves out a sigh of relief, while the spirit laughs at the frantic boy. 'He's cute.'

For a breaker, he took out his phone, looking at the time that seemed to pass by quickly throughout the ritual, 2:47 AM. A little more while to go until he'd finally get it over with. "Do not attempt to provoke the Midnight Man during the game." You ended for the nth time that night, "Which idiot would-" Yangyang asks "Haechan-" Jaemin pretends to cough while blurting out his best friends name, the mentioned feigning offence while tilting his head to the side, tongue poking at the insides of his cheek. "Seems like that's pretty much it." you shrug while the older guy beside you leaning back on both of his hands, "I kinda wanna try that out" Yuta raised his eyebrows at you. "Halloween night? We all go together" you chirp in, both of you whipping your heads to look at the three perplexed boys. "Uh, I have to water my fish on halloween? She'd get pretty thirsty". Jaemin's eyes wandered about, coming up with an excuse, "And I gotta walk my rock yo, physical fitness." Haechan adds, "Can I bring my fish along? She could use some exercising". 

"Come on guys, it won't be that bad, we'll stick in a group?" You pleaded, trying your best to muster up the cutest puppy eyes. "I'm down" Yangyang shrugs. You do a tiny seal clap, looking expectedly at the other two, Yangyang and Yuta doing the same. "We stick together?" Haechan asks, to which the three of you nod your head, 

"Alright then we're down too"

[3:04AM 30th, October. ]

A few more minutes left until he'd succeed, Yuta was starting to grow tired of constantly roaming. He'd usually not the one to wear out that quickly, but for a reason unknown to him, he felt utterly sleepy, tired, hungry and just wanted to lie down. He decided to take a small break, the candle still light, dangerously flickering but yet still intact. Yuta sat by the foot of the stairs as Taeyong looked at him with the same cocky smirk on his face, contemplating whether to pop out or not. 'Maybe let's make it subtle? '

Taking up the form of a black humanoid figure, Taeyong makes his way towards Yuta whose eyes seem to be dropping low with each passing second. Upon hearing the sounds of footsteps Yuta looks up, a hand on his forehead from the sudden throbbing headache. Letting out a loud yell at the figure in front of him that disappeared almost immediately, he rushed to grab his lighter again. The sudden temperature drop made him shudder. Taking out the new lighter, he pressed the button again and again as the time limit started to exhaust, 6, at a successful fire, he reached for his candle, only for the flame to go off when it neared the candle wick. "what the fuck.." 5, "come on.." he stated in a rushed voice, sure that he just saw whatever he saw once again. Finally flicking the button one last time, he succeeded in lighting the candle. 

Contrary to popular belief, the midnight man didn't always radiate death. Sometimes he just messes around with the humans because the underworld could get a little boring. And as the curse states death and wrath is only to be faced by those who sinned and the boy playing right now seemed to be of no threat. All Taeyong wanted to do was get the guy to believe in his existence. Skeptics were like an insult to him. So if he had to prove himself and his existence on his own, then so be it. He gets some pretty good experience out of it anyways. 

Yuta stood up immediately, remembering the warning's you'd stated, "Do not stop moving until 3:33am", walking back up the stairs, he took out his phone to check the time, 3:29am. Almost. 

The same sounds of footsteps resonated from behind him, Yuta took an immediate U-turn. Going back down the stairs and roaming the empty, dark hallways, making sure to enter each and every room, keeping a mental note to thank his parents for having a slightly confusing infrastructure. The wax was almost completely out in the glass jar, but he had to hang in there for a little longer than 2 more minutes when he felt something brush his shoulder, much similar to how a friend would drape their hands over his/her friends' shoulder. He could've brushed it off as anything if it weren't for the sharp pain he felt right after the feeling of someone touching him. He's getting the proof he wants. Almost as if someone pulled his hoodie, Yuta stumbled back, letting out a shaky scream, tripping on his own foot, landing butt down onto the floor, catching a glimpse of the same humanoid figure he'd been seeing. He needs to get out of there. 

Stumbling back onto his feet, Yuta bolted it upstairs, grabbing his phone once again to check the time, 3:32am. Reaching his room, he set the candle down right beside him, vary of the windows and doors, starting to back his backpack, the sounds of rushed footsteps running start to where he is ringing through his ears, hands shakingly packing his bag. Keeping the candle closeby, contemplating whether to draw a salt circle or not since there was only less than half a minute left when the same humanoid figure neared him with fast footsteps, reaching by the door frame with a loud agonizing scream only to disappear immediately. 

Not realising the stress of tears flowing and the tresses sticking to his forehead, Yuta looked at the door frame in a perplexed yet confused manner. What the fuck was that. 

Taking out his phone once again while grabbing his backpack, laptop and the car keys in the other hand, 3:34 am. He'd made it through. After reaching the front door, not even bothering to close it, he rushed to his car, starting it before pulling up your contacts, seeing the messages he'd never sent you. 

Yuta san 1:39am: The boys said they won't make it tomorrow, it's gonna be just you and i

Y/nleE 1:43am: Why not? 

Yuta san 1:45am: Dk, they said they aren't interested. So come near xxxx tomorrow at 11:30. I'll meet you there. 

Y/nleE 1:48am: Coolsies. 

Yuta san 3:38am: Y/n don't come here, gather the boys and meet me by Haechan's dorm tomorrow. The game's no fucking joke. 

And with that he started driving away quickly to his dormitory, not once looking back at the house to see a human. Or a human like figure standing there, A bright red hair standing out due to his blood drained looking pale skin. A smirk on his face

Message not delivered. 

31st October, 22:37PM, 2020.

Today was a weird day, 

Having all plan's set two days before, you'd make sure to keep yourself ready for whatever you and your friend group were supposed to do today. You finished up all your assignments earlier that day to keep yourself free from afternoon and on. 

The weird part was that, no matter how much you kept your phone for charge, each time you tried calling one of the guys to ask for the sudden bailing out on plan, which is a shocker because they've never done that, your phone kept switching off. You could've gone all the way to their apartment, well, dorm, but you decided to wait until later to do so. Maybe a few minutes before leaving to the place Yuta texted you so that they'd have no choice but to come along. Since your last time texting with Yuta, you hadn't heard from him. Granted, he did text you quite late at night saying he's going to do god knows what and to tell you of the sudden plan change, but you hadn't heard from him after, that being weird since he literally lives a floor below yours, he could've come any moment but nope. You kept a mental note to tell him off later. 

You took out your phone once again to check if they'd sent any messages or missed calls only to have an empty chat box, other than that of your other friends that is. Added on top of that came the constant pricking feeling on your shoulder blades from the last day you hung out with the boys. The pain would appear randomly and it would be hurtful enough to draw blood, which is weird considering the fact that you kept yourself away from all sharp objects and had a full sleeve covering the area. 

One stone, two birds. Taeyong's motto. 

After having interfered with your phone, your friends, trying to keep you away from them until you'd go through the same as your other skeptic partner, Taeyong made sure that Yuta would be sick enough after returning home to keep him from even getting up from his bed. Temporary paralysis. Your other friends, of course they tried reaching out to you, only for him to cut the service to keep you away from them for a while. They got easily distracted from you ignoring their texts as they were focused on reaching out to Yuta. 

Unknown: Hey Y/n, I'm Yuta's friend. He told me you aren't replying to his texts so asked me to do so. 

Y/n: Who's this? 

Unknown: Oh! I'm Taeyong! A close friend of well, your friend XD. 

Y/n: Nice to meet you, Taeyong. I'm Y/n but it seems like you already know that. 

Unknown: Yeah :). Yuta's on his way here and told me that you'd be joining us? Are you nearby?

Y/n: He left? No, actually, I'm just leaving my place. I guess I'll meet you there? 

Taeyong: Meet ya :)

[23:22PM, 31st October, 2020 continued. ]

Hailing a cab to the address Yuta had sent you with his friends, Taeyong's number saved on your phone in case the later won't pick up, you left your place. Still feeling a little eerie from how Yuta just decided to leave you behind when he could've just offered to go together, which is pure Yuta style. He probably wasn't in the best of moods but he could've at least texted you letting you know of his departure from the apartment building. 

The journey to the given address didn't take that long surprisingly. A little towards the outskirts of the town in a much aloof part but nonetheless, doable. It's not like you'd be alone there any ways. Paying for your fare, you took your purse, brushed your fingers through your hair to tame it a little from the ride, and turned towards the building, jumping slightly at the bright haired guy sitting by the front porch. Adorning the simplest of fit, a black knee slit jeans, with a graphic tee and a black leather jacket with a chain or two. He, in no doubts, was ethereal. His pale skin stood out the most in the street light if you could call it that and his lips seemed a little drained of blood, eyes hollow yet captivating when he looked up from the dirt below him to you who still stood yards away. Smiling, he got up, making his way towards after brushing off the invisible lint from his jeans, "Hey" he offered you his hands for you to shake upon reaching you. "Hey..? Taeyong, right?" 

Wanting so badly to smirk, he only looked down with a silent snicker, looking up immediately to not look suspicious, "Yeah, Y/n..?" you nod in response, shuddering from the coldness of his skin, "Have you been out for too long? You're freezing," you exclaim, looking at him with a guilty expression and taking a mental note to hit Yuta for not arriving earlier. "Oh no, i just reached a minute or two prior to your arrival." you nod in understanding, withdrawing your hands from his hold, "By the way, Yuta called me a few minutes ago, telling me that he wouldn't make it and to just carry on" Taeyong said, looking at you with his eyebrows raised at your confused, innocent expression, his humane form threatening to change into his original form. "What? Why? It's like,-" you look down at your wrist watch, "11:50! And he's bailing out now?", smiling at you in fake sympathy, he replied, "he said he had other things to take care of," "But you said he'd left the place and was on his way here?" you ask, hands on either sides of your hip, "Last minute plan changes" Taeyong shrugs, "Anyways, let's get inside?" 

He pointed towards the front door with both his hands, gesturing you to go forward first. And so you do. You offer him a smile before turning your back towards him and making your way towards the old house, the door seemingly open. Climbing up the stairs with caution, humming at the sound of dried leaves crunching up below your feet with each footstep. Taeyong stood behind where you two had introduced yourselves for a few minutes, a few more minutes. "Taeyong? Are you not coming?" you turn around slightly, looking over your shoulder at lad standing still, "Yeah, I'm coming" he replied soullessly, still standing his group until he saw you open the door ajar and then took his first step forward. Not bothering to go too quick. 

The insides were simple, very very simple yet magnificent. The flooring seemed to be that of wooden finishing that creaked with each step you took, implying that of how old the infrastructure must be. You look around in awe, clutching at the sling bag that you carried along. You go corner to corner, not bothering to look behind to see if the friendly stranger was hot on your trail, instead seemingly being captivated by the olden time-ish wallpapers and paintings and antique pieces that the wall adorned. Taeyong on the other hand was just growing restless, 4 more minutes until he could play his next victim, he was growing frantic. He did follow you inside, instead opting to walk the opposite direction as you, towards where he'd hidden the paper with your crimson blood and name written on it, contemplating whether to just tear it and carry on proving his existence to the female in the room. 3 more minutes, he bit into his lips, "Taeyong? Look, i found something!" He heard you scream.

Puffing out a breath of frustration, Taeyong replied "Coming!" and he walked out of the room, hands in his pocket towards where you stood by the bottom of the stairs, looking at the lighter in your hand that seemed relatively unused. "I found lighter down here" you look at him with a tiny pout evident on your lips, looking back and forth between the candle and the guy, puzzled. "It must be some thugs who came here to smoke or something" He shrugged it off, taking the lighter out of your hand. It must be you over analyzing things but without a single light turned on in the villa with only your flashlight acting as a source of light, but Taeyong looked even more lifeless than before. Eyes dark ebony and dangerous, somehow intimidating, lips adorning a bright shade of red in contrast to how you saw it the first time, and his aura had seemingly darkened. 2 more minutes. You shake your head and walk up the stairs and towards a room which has it's door wide open. Choosing to lay out your things there, you stretch out a few stiff limbs, "So, me and the boys were planning on doing the midnight game, you know. One of those stupid creepy pastas? I can't believe all of them bailed out on me last minute," you speak particularly to no one in the room, assuming that Taeyong was listening to you, whose ears only perked up at the words midnight and stupid. Midnight. 00:00Am. The devil smirked to himself. Midnight, at last. 

"I mean, Yangyang, Jaemin and Haechan came off as no shock to me- they're the other friend's by the way, but Yuta, it's weird for him to at least not let me know." You keep going, scrolling through your phone screen, only for it to load suddenly, No internet access. Sighing, you pull out offline downloads, "Did he tell you anything else? Like if he's feeling unwell or something?" you ask, letting the question float in the air, waiting for a reply. Getting known even after the passing of a few seconds, a minute too maybe, "Taeyong?" you stand up from the bed, well, the bed frame and make your way outside, "Tae?" you look left and right, searching for any moving soul when you feel your phone vibrate in your hands, and the sound of notification resonates through the eerie silence. You look down at the device in your hand, one new message from Yuta san and an immediate black out of the screen. Impossible. 

You remembered full well charging your phone to a hundred percent before leaving your dorm. Hell, you even kept it on airplane mode your whole cab ride. Shrugging it off, you keep your phone beside your bag and then proceed to go out to look for your new friend? acquaintance? You didn't even know how to classify him as yet. "Tae, if you're trying to scare me, I'll give you heads up, it doesn't work on me." you chuckle, walking to the room beside the one you were previously lounging in. "It's past midnight and we both seem too uninterested to try out whatever we were supposed to anyways, how about we just head out?" you start, looking down at your wrist watch which displayed 00:09 on the screen in neon green. "I mean, it was stupid enough that my friends and i even decided to try it out knowing it's some made up shit to scare some seven olds, probably" you continue, feeling as though you're talking to the walls at the lack of response. "Taeyong, come on. I'm growing bored." 

"Tae-" "You know, the way you logicised made it seem like you're smart enough. It was impressive," you hear his voice, a little too hoarse and plain for your liking, he continued before you could muster up a reply, "But seems like you aren't all that smart after all, seeing how you believed a total stranger and are even ready to spend time with him." you look around the place, only hearing his voice but his figure to be nowhere near you, "Taeyong, what are you talking about?" you head out of the room you currently stood in, jogging to catch his voice.

"It was a little angering you know? The way you spoke about me and my followers, it was disrespectful. And I could've taken you then and there, but what to do. You seemed too cute to take your soul without a small game? Is that what you humans call it?" You feel breathing fanning the nape of your neck and a cold air following it right after, making you turn back, "Your friend got his share of play" you whip your head forward, finally seeing the male in front of you, standing by the door frame of a connective hallway, you swore you felt his presence behind you though. His infamous smirk still adorning his features. Figure a little more towering and intimidating. If you thought he couldn't have seemed more lifeless a few minutes ago, then his appearance now only seemed to prove you wrong. "So it's only fair if you got your part of the play too, right?" 

"Taeyong, you're only making your existence weird for me, let's go if you're done." He only tilted his head in amusement, "Oh it's only about to get weirder, darling" You turn back to face a blood red shot eyed male, well, Taeyong, eliciting a gasp from you, you look over your shoulder to see the place where Taeyong stood a blink of eye ago. "How..did-" His chest visibly vibrated from the hearty laugh he let out, "How did I do that?," you step back as his voice dropped even lower, only for you to bump your back into something rigid, something cold, making you let out a yelp as Taeyong seemed to stand still in front of you, "I can do a whole lot of things," you feared turning back, the insides of your stomach hurdling around as whatever was behind you reached their arms up and held you still in a vice grip. "Y/n!" you hear a voice scream from downstairs, "Y/n! Come out! We need to get out of here!" you recognize the voice as that of your friends, Yuta's. 

You squirm hard to loosen the person's grip on your shoulder. Once succeeding, you bolt down the stairs, skipping a few steps, tripping now and then but nevertheless making it down without landing face first as you hear Taeyong's laugh thunder throughout the place. You take a turn to reach the front door, where Yuta stood in all his glory. You immediately run into his embrace, ignoring how his body seemed just as cold as the one you felt from whatever Taeyong was, "Y-yuta, he's sick, let's go, we need to go!" you try pulling Yuta's body a little closer to the exit, only for him to stand his ground, wrapping his hands around you even tighter as he caressed your hair, "Oh, Y/n.." your body goes stiff as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, that sounded nothing like your best friend, "Yuta..?" 

You try pulling your head away from the nape of his neck to look at him, "No darling, it's 'stupid made up shit''," his body vibrated once again from the laughing against yours, as you feel yourself growing scared each passing second. You try mustering up all your strength to bring it to his sides and push him away when you feel a plush yet cold muscle press against your neck, only for it to go futile. "Still made up for you?" you feel a sharp pang of pain flow through your nerves, result of him biting the skin in a manner far too away from soft, "Taeyon-g- lord--midnight man, whatever you are.. I'm --sorry" you say in a hushed voice, scared that if you voiced out a little louder, he'd pounce at you. You feel him nibble at the soft skin, making you whimper, "Oh no, darling, do not apologize. Your doings really intoxicated me. Kept me entertained for a while." 

"But now, it's angering me to know a feeble creature as you kept poking fun at my people. At me. And I want no more than to turn you into something belonging to me. Who'd worship me the way 'my people' do." He whispered against the area, lifting his head up and leaning down, making sure not to let go of his grip on you, "oh no, pretty girls aren't supposed to cry. Tsk tsk, what is this, Y/n" His eyes bore holes onto the crown of your head. "Look at me." he acted on making you look at him faster than you could, "Could you beg for forgiveness? Give me a piece of yourself?" he inched closer to your face, a small snarl escaping his throat at your scared and trembling figure, "Or you could just be my queen and come below with me, and you'd not have to cut down your lifespan" 

"Are you turned on by all of this, Y/n? Or is it out of fear?" you let out a shaky breath as the tip of his nose touched yours, "Because i can smell you from here and oh," he let out what sounded like an animalistic growl, "Is it delicious.". "Taeyong, please let me go.. I'm sorry. I really am, just please don't hurt me,-" you let out a whine of pain when you feel his other hand knot his fingers in your locks and pull it back with much aggression, immediately planting his lips onto your trembling once, bearing his fang like teeth into plush flesh to draw out blood, earning a loud high pitched scream from your end as you try your best to push him away, futile once again. His hands tighten their grip at the waist while his other hand pulled your head further back, latching onto the firm skin of your neck, treating it with the same aggression, puncturing through the skin with his teeth as your hands go limp beside your body, nevertheless, letting out a whimper from the harsh treatment, which, in all your defense couldn't be help since you still are a human with all emotion any human would feel, that including lust. You feel his cold lips curve into a smirk against where blood flowed out, lapping it up with his tongue as you feel your vision blacken the more as time went by. 

"Oh darling you're no different than me.."

4th November, 19:48Pm, 2020.

"She's awake!!" you blink multiple times to get accustomed to the blaring lights in the room, a comfortable white filling your eyesight. You move your head towards the side to find all your friends sprawled out on each side. A drip connected to your hands making you squint in confusion, "Can you hear us, Y/n?" you feel your shoulders being shaken as jolt, "Hey? Yeah i can hear you, why won't i be able to?" you ask, confusion still laced in your voice, "Because you hadn't responded to us the last time we called you. And because you've been laying dead the past few days" Jaemin spoke up first, earning a smack from his elder brother 

"Why didn't you stop when we screamed your name the other day, Y/n? You literally weren't breathing the day we found you" Yangyang inquired and stated, "And why did you leave us all on seen??" Haechan added, "Most of all, where were you even??" Yuta spoke. You hiss at all the questions being thrown at you as you try sitting up by the inclined hospital bed, "Screamed? Didn't respond? I left you on seen? That's highly impossible and where was i??" you stare blankly at the plain wall in front of you, trying to remember any such episode. The more you strained your head, the more clueless you grew. Your throat starts to grow dry so you turn your neck to check if there are any water bottles nearby, only for a sharp pain to flow through your nerves at a particular spot in your throat. You yelp at the sudden pain, "I'll get the doctor," Haechan rushed outside, when you reached out to touch your neck, feeling it with the tips of your finger, feeling in the swollen skin, the dried up blood when it all hit you. Your eyes grow wide as you start shaking, for it to be first noticed by Yuta, "Yuta, that house! The game, it's all real! I saw hi-him, his name! I swear he's real!" growing concerned at your sudden frenzy behavior, Yuta kneeled down beside your bed, holding your non-injected hand giving it a comforting behavior. 

"Calm down, angel. Tell me point by point," he encouraged you to take in a long breath, as Haechan rushed in along with the doctor whose face was half covered with a doctor's mask, "Doctor, he-he's probably out for me, you need to get me far away from here! Please" you beg with your eyes stinging with all the tears, "No one's going to get you from here, Ms. Y/n, you're safe here" You pause your frantic actions for a while. That voice sounded a little too familiar for your liking, making you think you're over analyzing everything again. The doctor gestured to your friends to leave you up to him to have a doctor to patient talk. All of your friends nodded in understanding, giving you one last reassuring smile before collectively leaving the room. 

The doctor, once after making sure that everyone left, removed his mask to reveal the oh so familiar smirk and the hair protector, rustling the same, familiar bright red hair with the same familiar pale fingers of his. Your eyes widen, mouth falls wide ajar

"Oh wait, there's one last warning, Do not assume that the Midnight Man has left your home for good at the conclusion of the game. I'm for real done now" You laugh at your friend who snatched the phone away from you,

"Pleasure to meet you again, darling"

[bangtiddies]

The Light of the Galaxy

Pairing: Taehyung x reader Genre: Angst, Time Travel AU Rating: PG13 Words: 1.2k Warnings: major character death

Summary: You find a cassette that has a backstory that you’ve forgotten.

Note: unedited because I’m a fool. Inspired by the Japanese live action film, Time Traveller: The Girl Who Leapt Through Time.

Written for BGW Drabble Marathon    ⮩ Theme 4: X-inspired

The sounds from cicadas are the first things you hear when you wake up. The carpet floor you’re lying on feels comfortable but out of place. Like you suddenly appeared there, from a different dimension.

This is your room. Yet, you feel like you haven’t been there for a while.

You try to go through your memories to figure out why you feel so out of place. Figure out why you’ve ended up passed out on the floor, in clothes that you wore yesterday. Yesterday? When was yesterday?

Fumbling around a bit, your hand hits something hard. You turn to where your hand is and see that something has slipped out of your bag. It’s a foreign object, and your memory doesn’t give you any clue as to how it got in your possession.

You’ve seen one of these objects before. Your mum owned a few, some that your estranged father left behind. You don’t know how they work, only know about them simply due to curiosity.

You open the case and the item inside gives you some odd wave of nostalgia and longing. It’s a video cassette. And written on it, is a title to what might be a film.

The Light of the Galaxy

“If Jin-hyung and Yoongi-hyung got big in their careers, do you think I would’ve become a famous director?” Taehyung asked eyes lit up like a puppy. Your heart skipped a beat at his expression. There was something about his positivity that moved you.

“I guess?” you shrugged, not recognising his face or name from your time at all.

“C’mon, see if you can remember,” Taehyung said with a teasing smile, nudging you with his elbow. “Kim Taehyung, movie director. Does it ring a bell?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head before letting out a laugh as you joke, “maybe you’re just some random old man.”

Taehyung let out an offended gasp, a hint of a smile in his dramatic expression. After a laugh to brush it off, he looked up at the sky with a twinkle in eye, wishful smile resting on his lips. “Well, I hope I’ll at least be a handsome random old man.”

“What’s the name of the film?”

“The Light of the Galaxy.”

Recognition flashes in Park Jimin’s eyes and his breath hitches. “The director?”

You frown, shaking your head. “It doesn’t say.”

“Oh.” He looks torn, biting his lips,

“Is something wrong?” you ask hesitantly, still not familiar with the person who should be.

“I filmed a short film with a close friend back in the day,” he says with a sombre smile, before sighing. “But it’s a cheesy title. I’m not surprised that there’s other homemade films out there with the same name.”

Something in his expression tells you that there’s a sad back story to the film Park Jimin worked on but unfortunately, you don’t know him well enough to pry. So instead, you awkwardly thank him for the video cassette player, and quietly promise to stay for tea when you return it.

Sad smile on his face, Taehyung handed you a square box. Your heart had hurt at seeing his expression, imagining the kind of pain he might have been going through in the last 24 hours. But instead of showing your hurt for him, you instead focused on lifting his spirits.

“Wow, this thing’s huge!”

Taehyung let out a laugh and your heart skipped a beat. “I want you to have it.”

Your eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he looked at the stars starting to appear above the two of you, that wishful look in his eyes again. “I want to give you something to take with you to the future. To remind me of the time we had, in case my old man brain forgets.”

You hoped that he won’t. You smiled at the video cassette before putting it in your bag. “Thank you. I’ll treasure it.”

Taehyung sighed and then stood up, stretching as he did. “Right, I’m off then. It was really nice meeting you, Y/N.”

“You too,” you whispered back, hand clutching the shape of the cassette in your bag. You were going back to the future tonight. Taehyung was heading back to his home town to mourn with his family. Now was the right time to say goodbye. But you couldn’t help but feel like there were words left unsaid. Words that couldn’t make their way to your lips.

After wishing Taehyung goodbye, you started to head back to Taehyung’s flat — the safest place to disappear into the future. On your way there, you conveniently (or perhaps, inconveniently) bumped into a familiar face.

“Hobi?”

He looked like he was in a rush, face red and flushed. “Oh, hi Miss Y/N.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m supposed to go on a bus to Daegu for a dance workshop but I’ve left my ticket at home,” he said with a worried sigh, ready to start running back to his house again.

You laughed a little. “You know you’re not going to be able to make it, right?”

Hoseok looked dejected. “Yeah, but I guess I hoped that I could. I was really excited for that dance workshop, you know.”

Your eyes widened when Hoseok’s words sink in, remembering the story he had told you back in your time. How he had left a ticket home and missed a bus to a dance workshop he was excited for. How the one time he left his ticket must’ve been the best stroke of luck. Or perhaps the work of fate.

How the bus he was supposed to take took a wrong turn and crashed, leaving no survivors.

Your feet started moving on their own, rushing to where the buses are, tears forming at the possibility of being too late. You arrived there just as Taehyung’s about to board the bus. You go to yell at his name —

Only to be held back by Kim Namjoon.

You struggled in his grip, telling him to let you go, to let you get to Taehyung before it’s too late.

“I know you want to save him,” Namjoon said, emotion in his voice that implied that he too was holding himself back. “But a person from the future must never change the past!”

“Then I’ll stay in the past!” you screamed, kicking yourself out of his grip just as Taehyung’s bus turned into the main road. You tried chasing it but it was too late. The bus was gone, never to return again.

You screamed Taehyung’s name until your vocal chords hurt, tears rolling down your cheeks. Namjoon caught up to you and he stood there, letting you mourn the person who weaved their way into your heart.

“You’ll forget everything about your journey to the past,” Namjoon said softly. “I’m sorry. It’s protocol.”

You wished you didn’t have to. But perhaps it was for the best.

And as you lost your consciousness, you whispered the words that were left unsaid.

“I love you.”

The film is confusing, a short sci-fi film that probably has too many ideas thrown in and a non-linear style of story telling that is hard to follow. Yet, for some odd reason, you find yourself crying during the scene where a young woman is looking at the stars.

When you go to put the cassette away, find a note inside the case.

For you, who sees the stars in the future.

And you don’t know why, but the handwriting and words on the note makes your heart mourn, like you’ve lost something — or someone — important. Forever.

[knightotoc]

I finally finished season 4 of Discovery and have given it thought, so here are some of my impressions (spoiler alert, though I avoid specifics):

There is a rule of thumb for Trek shows that you have to be patient for the first 3 seasons, since they hit their stride in the 4th. Personally I think this is a pretty shaky rule (Kes is a flawless queen), but Disco S4 does improve on its previous seasons in at least two ways, if rather non-committally.

The first way is that S4 relies less on big dumb twists. S1 has buckets of twists, S2 has a hefty handful, S3 has still fewer and S4 could almost be called restrained. Characters spend less time getting their minds blown and more time making meaningful decisions and taking creative actions. However, Disco just can't help but interrupt this forward-facing motion with its most cowardly trope: immediately subverting a major character death. I really did believe they meant it this time, so I felt like such a sap when they, of course, didn't.

The second way is that S4 finally almost gives its protagonist the respect every other Trek protagonist gets by default. There is no question that Michael Burnham is punished, disempowered, and side-lined far more than any other main character. Starfleet treats her so badly, and for what? She's worth the whole damn bunch put together! This season makes her the captain and demonstrates her leadership on the bridge and in mixed company. But she still gets constantly scolded and even threatened by frustrating higher-ups and stubborn allies. You could argue that Trek's usual focus on singular leaders is an unhealthy power-trip, but the disrespect Michael gets overcorrects to a simply unpleasant experience.

The overarching plot is my favorite of Disco's seasonal existential threats yet, especially at the beginning. The writers initially make the DMA a clear metaphor for the current pandemic in ways that are effective and much more emotionally mature than other pandemic-inspired works of fiction. Instead of cringey jokes about Zoom or gross-out horror about plagues, Disco S4 focuses on the terror that the DMA could show up anywhere, anytime, an invisible and mysterious threat. More subtly, this show also cares about the awkwardness that arises from long isolation (a result of S3's Burn).

Then the show runs out of pandemic-y things to say, which I suppose is just as well, and instead becomes an extended homage to, of all things, Close Encounters of the Third Kind. From a mashed potato sculpture to a visually identical climax, it's a first contact story that works fine because, well, it worked in 1977.

I hadn't seen Close Encounters before, so I watched it afterwards. The main result of this comparison is that it made me really, really appreciate Close Encounter's practical effects. I know "practical > CGI" is a worn-out cliche of criticism, and I like to think I hold a nuanced position that gives CGI its well-deserved credit too. But the most prevalent visual of Disco S4 is the floating blue holographic computer, an effect so unconvincing and annoying that I had to turn my brain off whenever it appeared. Trek has always had its actors earnestly poke around high-tech interfaces, but the decision to shift that poking from plastic buttons to thin air was uncool of them.

Speaking of 1977, I have a bad feeling about the way sci-fi franchises handle characters whose planets get blown up. There is infinite room for improvement in the wake of Leia's utter lack of long-term emotional consequences, and post-2009 Trek has, for some reason, seized that gauntlet. While some of Book's scenes are moving, they tend to be either too neat when emotions call for it, or too messy only when the plot calls for it. The cartoonish Tarka throws off Book's balance and makes them both seem like less interesting characters.

I'm more convinced than ever that Disco's story would be better as a book than a TV show. The characters spend so much time processing their feelings in one-on-one conversations; these scenes would be better if we could also get in their heads, as we could in a novel or comic. It would also remove the difficulty of getting 6'8" Saru and 5'5" Michael into the same frame. Their beautiful chemistry makes it worth it, but bravo to the directors for figuring that one out.

[vanaera]

𝐌𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 | 𝟎𝟑 | 𝐣𝐣𝐤

Synopsis: A future technology allows cops to jump in the past and future to investigate crimes that have happened and prepare for those that are about to happen. A simple hit-and-run turns into something more when Captain Jeon Jungkook finds himself as the victim of a culprit who cannot be identified by the system. Especially when the culprit seems to be the same person behind the new case that’s threatening the order in the justice organization. All goes haywire when Jungkook gets involved with Y/N L/N, the clairvoyant sketch artist who may be his only help to solve the case.

Characters: Jungkook x Female Reader

Genre/AU: Sci-fi, romance, angst, mystery, action, fluff (in this chapter!)  (cop!JK x artist!you), based on the movie Minority Report

Wordcount: 7.8k

Warnings: Dark themes and implied smut (in future chapters); mentions of blood (PG-16 Rating)

A/N: I busted my brain cells writing the action scenes for this so please feel free to tell me what you think about this chapter!

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

              Jungkook steps away from Yoongi and races out of the Murder Sector and into the Left Wing. “Captain Jeon!” Yoongi hollers behind him, but Jungkook doesn’t turn an inch towards his way.  His mind is set. There’s no time for this. Jungkook runs to the main building’s hallway, eyes set on the closing elevators. He could hear Yoongi and even Jimin and Taehyung close behind. Jungkook sprints. He reaches the elevator just in time and slides himself into the sliver of space left by the closing doors.

              By the time Taehyung shouts “Captain!” the doors of the metal lift have already shut close.

              Jungkook raps his knuckles on the gray door in hurried beats. It takes six more knocks until it bursts open.

              “Why are you here?” Y/N pointedly looks at him, forehead creased.

              Jungkook doesn’t say anything and makes his way inside the studio. He scrutinizes the room. The buckets of paint are still a mess, the owl painting still unfinished. Jungkook turns around and finally looks at the girl. “What do you mean with your text? That you saw a ‘Sooah Kim?’”

              Y/N closes the door shut and shakes her head. Jungkook only notices she’s wearing a black, sleeveless, turtleneck cropped top. Black, baggy cargo pants cinch at the top of her black combat boots. She has her hair tied in a low ponytail, stray strands framing her face. She looks like a different person once again. 

              Y/N pulls the stool and sits, clasping her hands together on the table. A black dragon tattoo spirals from her upper arm to her elbow. Jungkook has never seen it before. Nor the monochrome hornet bee tattoo peeking from the center of her abdomen, its translucent wings spread wide. From the size of the insect’s abdomen, Jungkook thinks it could be a queen. He’s seen one of them in his trip to Vietnam with Namjoon last year.

              Y/N tilts her head. Jungkook’s eyes dart back towards hers. Y/N chuckles. “So, that’s why you rushed here?” she raises a brow, “to know if I indeed saw a Sooah Kim?”

              Jungkook walks to the table. “This is not a time for joking, Y/N,” he grits, slamming his hands on the table. 

              Y/N stares blankly at him. She leans back in her seat and crosses her arms. Her top rides up. The hornet shows in complete view. It is indeed a queen. “If that is your question, then, yes, I saw a Sooah Kim. Though I don’t know why you have to come here right now without any schedule—”

              “I need answers, Y/N. Right now.” Jungkook’s brows meet together. “The red file we saw yesterday—a blank turned up earlier containing the same Winston file and—”

              “So you believe me now?”

              Silence.

              Jungkook takes a step back, “When did I tell you I didn’t?”

              Y/N scoffs, “You don’t have to tell me, Jungkook. I know you didn’t. And now that one of my visions matched with your current reality, you’re suddenly open to trusting me with answers you so seek.”

              “Y/N—”

              “It’s okay, I understand.” Y/N waves a hand. “I already expected it. Actually, I’ve already seen this day coming. You with that funny face,” Y/N points at him, chuckling, “God, I’ve never seen such a conflicted face in a while.” Y/N sits back up, “Anyway, I have to give you leeway in my judgment. After all, it’s not easy for anyone in an established system to believe in something that doesn’t belong in their paradigm. So now that you want your answers,” Y/N kicks back the stool in front of her, “Sit.”

              Jungkook slowly makes his way around the stool and sits. It feels oddly nostalgic to be in the same place again. Even if this time he’s sitting in Y/N’s initial position, Y/N in his—their social position remains the same. He still has the shorter end of the stick.

              “Let’s start now.” Y/N bends down to retrieve a small, black canvas bag from the stack of boxes and papers on her side. She produces a white folder and pushes it to the man.

            Jungkook looks at Y/N. The girl only smiles. Jungkook’s eyes drop to the stationery in front of him. He flips it open. It’s a composite sketch of a woman in her late twenties. She has a small, square face with a rounded chin, short button nose, and small but wide, mono-lidded eyes. Her ears are quite big for her petite face, her shoulders are short, and her neck, elegantly long like a swan. Her hair is parted to the left, chopped at shoulder-length, dark strands softly framing her face. For lack of any better word, she is beautiful.

              “That’s Sooah Kim.” Jungkook’s eyes dart back to Y/N. The girl explains, “I tried to do a read in the future based on what we found at Somerset Road. What I only got are short clipped frames. A white lobby of a hospital, dark metal bookshelves, a tipped hourglass, a picture of this woman, and a label at its bottom that said ‘Sooah Kim.’  Y/N cups her jaw, “there’s also a frame that showed Winston’s red file.”

              Jungkook’s brows bunch up together.

              Y/N continues, “So I figured the two of them must be connected. I drew a composite sketch of Sooah just in case we chance upon her someday. Though I’m not sure she will look this young. The vision looked kinda grainy so it must be memories.  I’ve experienced seeing these kinds of things before and most often than not, they’re remnants of the past that will separately appear in the future. Like a prophecy.” Y/N looks at Jungkook, “I can’t put this into better words, so if you’d like, do you want to see them?”

              “What will I see?”

              “My vision,” Y/N smiles. “I could say you coming here as soon as I finished my read is actually a good thing. For you, that is. Not for me. You disturbed me from my work.” Y/N rolls her shoulders back, “The vision won’t be as vivid as I first saw it but the memory of it is still fresh in my mind. Good for you, you could do a little peek-in.”

              “But how will I do that?”

              Y/N leans forward and opens her left palm, “Hold my hand.” Jungkook looks at her confused. Y/N rolls her eyes, “Just hold my hand, goddamn it.”

              Jungkook clears his throat. He raises his hand and ghosts it above Y/N’s. He closes his eyes and he fills every slot between her fingers with his own. 

              And then, Jungkook feels it—the fall. He feels like falling in a still body of water, the sound of the splash violent like the shot of a rifle. A gush of water soon fills his lungs, vanquishing the oxygen in each fiber of his muscles. Jungkook claws at his throat but no matter how hard he pulls at his skin, no matter how hard he coughs, no water spills out. He’s drowning in frigid nothingness.

              The fall seems to go on forever. Jungkook stretches out his limbs but it’s useless. There’s nothing in his way that could tether him to the above. He falls deeper into the waters until he suddenly feels a ripple beneath his head. The world tips over and his head shoots out from the surface, setting off a spray of water from the movement. 

              There’s something cold beside his face but there’s no longer water filling his lungs. He’s breathing fine again. The fall has stopped. Jungkook’s eyes shoot open and he gasps.  He’s floating on water. It’s cold and there’s nothing but darkness in front of him. 

              That is until the blackness filling his eyes flickers and all he could see now is light. Bright light. Natural like the ones that pass through the windows in the early morning. The light dims and it fades into the view as a brightly-lit white hallway replaces it. There are people in white coats walking. Some are running with assistants behind their steps. It looked like a hospital but devoid of any patients. The whiteness of the hallway faints into black and soon, there are no more hallways nor people dressed in white coats. Just metal shelves lined next to each other, foreboding as they stand under a dingy light that paints everything in murky dark green. Before Jungkook’s perspective could see more of the shelves, the view changes completely, and frames flash before his eyes in quick successions. 

              A tipped-over hourglass, wilted flowers falling down its hollow neck instead of sand. Black blood-like liquid running down a mountain of lackluster coins. A black eagle against a golden wall, its bloody wings severed, pinned next to its body, burning. And then, Jonathan Winston’s red file flat on a wooden desk. A phantom hand turns it open and instead of Jungkook’s crime record and thick documents of paper, it contains a picture of a woman with mahogany hair, long neck, and small, wide eyes staring right into Jungkook’s eyes. Inked letters smudge the white edges of the picture black, forming the words “Sooah Kim.”

              Jungkook’s eyes widen. It’s exactly like the woman Y/N sketched. Before he could ponder more, he is pulled back into the waters. His lungs squeeze tight and he’s falling once again. When he gasps, he’s no longer in the murky water, but slump over a wooden table, dry and warm. Jungkook flinches back and he feels a strong tug on his left arm. He raises his head and he meets a pair of dark eyes.

              “So, did you see enough?”

              Jungkook’s brows raise and he realizes he’s still holding Y/N’s hand. He immediately lets go as if he was burned. His eyes roam around. Buckets of paint lay on the floor. Newspapers are messily strewn around. The huge gap of a window letting sunlight inside. So much it completely fills the room with the golden hue of the afternoon. He’s back in Y/N’s studio and it’s ironically warm. 

              “You look so shocked.”

              Jungkook whips his head to the girl. His eyes stretch wide as he wraps his hand around his throat. It doesn’t feel sore and he doesn’t feel out of breath.

              “Your throat is fine, don’t worry,” Y/N snickers. “The water and the fall, they’re all just mental projections.”

              “B-but the black blood, the hallway, the shelves, and the burning eagle—”

              “That is my vision.”

              Jungkook looks at her. Y/N tilts her head, “Did you see Sooah Kim?”

              Jungkook’s eyes glance at the sketch composite in front of him. He nods, “y-yeah.” He turns to Y/N, “But I don’t understand, how did I see your vision?”

              “Simple,” Y/N leans back in her chair, “Time jump to a memory.”

              Jungkook brows shoot up, “I ju-jumped in your m-memory?”

              “You didn’t make the jump. I let you jump into my memory.” Y/N crosses her arms, “I want you to see my vision. I couldn’t make sense of the hourglass, the coins, the bird, and their connection with the white hallway and dark shelves. I could only connect Sooah Kim and Winston. The driver of the Jaguar has a Winston file in his car. Of course, he’s interested in it. And Sooah appears to be involved with Winston’s case. So, I guess we could say she may be a key to solve your unidentifiable suspect.” Y/N flashes him an apologetic smile, “Sorry you had to suffer the waters. They’re boundaries of the memory map I set on myself.”

              Jungkook’s forehead crease. “You set a memory map on yourself?”

              “Of course. My business revolves around memories, I don’t want any of my memories messing with the ones I need for a case. Nor do I want my clients invading them, especially those who have access to time-traveling technology.”

              “Why? What’s with people who can time travel?”

              Y/N sighs, “In case you didn’t know yet from your job, memories mark passed time. Time is made sense by people’s memories in them. So, every travel you make, you’re jumping into memories. Your organization has eyes on almost everywhere to see and have the same memories the people have.” Y/N looks into his eyes, “With your kind of technology, you can easily get into anyone’s head.”

              Jungkook presses his lips together.

              “I think our meeting is done for today,” Y/N stands up and smiles, “I’ll send you off.”

              Jungkook climbs down the steps of Mini-Palais, Y/N following behind. He doesn’t know why she suddenly wanted to see him off but he’s not against it. In fact, he feels relieved she’s being kind to him even after he doubted her skills. Maybe it’s because of the large sum of money he’s gonna wire to her at the end of the week. But Jungkook feels it’s more than that. At least, that’s what he wants to think.

              Once they make it to the street, Jungkook turns around. “I’ll contact you as soon as I get something on Sooah Kim.”

              Y/N doesn’t seem to focus on him because she’s eyeing the surroundings. Jungkook clears his throat.

              Y/N darts her eyes back to his, “Where’s your car? You didn’t bring it?”

              “Um, yeah. Its coding is today.” Jungkook shrugs.

              Y/N smirks, “So you ran all the way here from your work just because you wanna get your answers?”

              “Well, I didn’t run all the way,” Jungkook chuckles, “I took a cab.” The mirth in his eyes soon dies down when his phone rings in his bomber jacket. “One second,” he says to Y/N. He swipes the call to answer it.

              “Yeah, Namjoon?”

              “Jungkook, yeah, hi,” Namjoon says, his voice hesitant. “I don’t think I can make it. The Bureau wants us to do overtime for the backlog of files in the archives. I know you don’t have your car with you. I’m sorry I won’t be able to drive you to the hospital.”

              “Hey, it’s alright,” Jungkook says, “I can commute on my own. Don’t worry.”

              “But—”

              “Namjoon, just focus on your job and come home safely, okay?”

              Namjoon sighs, “Okay.”

              “Bye,” Jungkook ends the call, slipping his phone back into his breast pocket. Turning back to Y/N, he sees the curious tilt of her head so he explains, “It’s Namjoon. He’s supposed to, um, drive me to the hospital.”

              Y/N’s eyes widen, “Why? What happened?”

              “Nothing serious. Just have to get my stitches off,” Jungkook raises his right arm.

              “Oh, from the crash.”

              “Yeah.” Jungkook shrugs, “It’s alright. Nothing big. Namjoon made it sound serious. He tends to over-worry.”

              “Yeah,” Y/N nods. She looks down, sighing, and looks at Jungkook, “Well, if you want, I can drive you to the hospital instead.”

              Jungkook’s forehead furrows.

              “I have a ride,” Y/N answers, turning around in her heel, “Wait for me, I’ll get my keys.”

              Y/N disappears back into the staircase, leaving Jungkook alone in the street. Well, this is something he didn’t expect from her. He smiles to himself. He looks around the neighborhood. There’s a woman carrying her groceries in a flimsy newspaper bag. At the end of the street is a mother holding the hand of her daughter, probably just fetched her from school. Drunkards start early in their alcohol indulgence at a convenience store by the corner. And a senile man standing in front of his porch is staring intently at him. Jungkook looks down at himself. He’s still wearing FJO’s ID. Jungkook zips up his jacket, tucking away his ID.  When he looks back at the man, he has already shifted his attention to the drunkards. Jungkook presses his lips together. This may be just a boundary between Middle Town and Down Hill but it’s still the other side of the town. 

              “Hey.”

              Jungkook turns around and sees Y/N walking towards him, pushing a mechanical panther by her side. Jungkook thinks it’s a 1981 Kawasaki KZ400. It looks similar to the bike Taehyung has been fantasizing from his vintage magazines. Although the engine’s rust starkly contrasts the bike’s shiny black coat, it’s still a wonder to behold. It looks so old and new at the same time.

              Y/N thrusts a white helmet in his hands, “Where’s your hospital?” 

              “Uh, Metropolis Medical City.”

               Y/N hums as she shrugs on her leather jacket. She slips on her own black helmet and swings her leg onto the bike. She kickstarts the motor, the engine immediately revving alive. Y/N  looks at him and cocks her head, “What are you waiting for? Hop on.” 

              Jungkook slips on his helmet and hesitantly rides behind her. Once he adjusts in his seat, he secures his hands on the back handle. “I-I’m okay now.”

              Y/N starts and the sudden speed throws Jungkook off balance. His hands scramble on air until he frantically loops his arms around the driver’s waist. 

              Y/N looks back at him, “We’re gonna go pretty fast to keep up with the cars in Middle Town. So if you don’t wanna die before we even solve your case, you have to hold onto me like this.”

              Even with her helmet on, Jungkook can see her smirking. With his heart still beating loud in his ears, Jungkook grumbles a begrudging “Fine” at her back.

              The trip to the hospital is supposed to take forty minutes. However, Jungkook felt only fifteen minutes have passed. Exposure to movement makes it feel like everything is going in fast motion. Jungkook is so used to the isolation of his car as he speeds through the highways of Metropolis. He doesn’t need to constantly shift lanes to keep up with the other vehicles because inside his car, his pace is fine. 

              And now, he’s out in the open air and the wind is continuously beating against his jacket and the adrenaline from avoiding and overtaking speeding vehicles is nipping at his nerves. The concrete overarching flyovers twist and turn above him as it bridges Middle Town to Metropolis. The metallic kingdom of Metropolis shines in silver and polished glass and metal from afar. The rest of Middle Town lay on his side. It pales to Metropolis in the mediocrity of their old buildings and cheap cracking paint. 

              Y/N lowers herself onto her bike, climbing up her speedometer. Consequently, Jungkook leans further into her. Everything then seems to go much faster. So fast they warp into each other, producing a convoluting mass of moving streaks of colors. It’s dizzying but it’s beautiful. For once, Jungkook thinks feeling everything goes fast is liberating. 

              However, things are bound to return to the way they used to be. Jungkook finds reality sinking back too fast for his liking when they pull up to the huge parking lot of Metropolis Medical Center.

              Y/N turns the key off and Jungkook hops down, taking off his helmet. He hands it to Y/N, “Thank you for this.”

              Y/N pushes it back to him, “No, hold onto it. I’ll drive you to your home when you’re done.”

              Jungkook scratches his nape, “You don’t have to.”

              “Well, I want to. After all,” Y/N smirks, “it seems like you want to ride my bike for longer.”

              Jungkook doesn’t need to reply. The small smile forming on his face says it all.

              “Clean it as usual and make sure to still put on a bandage on it.” The doctor points to his closed wound, “With your job, it’s likely to swell or split open again if you don’t protect it well.”

              “Yes, doc, thank you” Jungkook smiles at the woman as he pulls down the sleeve of his jacket. He picks up the doctor’s prescription, thanks the woman once again, and pushes the door open. When he steps outside, he sees Y/N sitting on the metal benches across, legs crossed, their helmets by her side. Jungkook makes his way and plops down on the seat next to her.

              “Everything okay?” Y/N asks, pointing to his arm.

              “Yeah,” Jungkook leans his back on the wall.

              “Do you want to go now?” Y/N starts to picks up her helmet but Jungkook stops her with a firm hold her hand.

              “No. Let’s stay for a while. I don’t feel like coming home yet.”

              “You’re acting like a petulant eight-year-old.”

              “Geez—”

              “It’s actually funny,” Y/N snorts, “you remind me of how I hid from my service driver in middle school.” Y/N relaxes back in her seat, “The service ended up leaving me and I had to walk my way back home. My mom scolded the hell out of me all night ‘til next morning.” Y/N looks at him, “Have you ever done that before?”

              “Um, no,” Jungkook looks down at his hands, “my school is actually near my home so I just walk from home to school and vice versa.”

              “Lucky bastard,” Y/N sighs as she puts her arms behind her neck, “I had to commute for long ass hours for 17 years of my life.”

              Jungkook’s phone rings and he opens the notification. 

              Sir Andrews: I covered you for today. Let’s talk about this tomorrow. Take care, son (4:37 P.M.)

              A fond smile makes its way to Jungkook’s face as he types, “Okay, sir. Thank you.”

              Y/N leans forward and bumps Jungkook’s shoulder, “Your girlfriend?”

              “Nah. It’s Sir Andrews.”

              “The Chief General of FJO?”

              “Yup,” Jungkook slips his phone back into his pocket.

              Y/N raises a brow, “You seem very close to him.”

              “Well…yeah,” Jungkook purses his lips. His eyes wander to the passing hospital staff. He internally shakes his head. Jungkook’s eyes dart back to the girl, “Actually…he’s my benefactor. He, um, provided for me for years until I’m able to start providing for myself. So, of course, I’m close to him. He's like a father figure in my life.��

              “Oh,” Y/N’s brows raise.

              “Yeah, well, I’m lucky I got someone like him to finance my education. It’s not easy for a foster kid to make it out on their own without sufficient financial help.”

              Silence. 

              Y/N’s eyes dart to her own interlocked hands, “I’m sorry…I…I don’t know what to say to that.”

              “You don’t have to say anything. It’s a past memory I long got over.”

              “Okay.”

              Silence fills the air once again. Jungkook shifts in his seat to face the girl, “Say…Namjoon said you used to work for FJO ‘bout 10 years ago. I’m already in FJO around the same time. How come I didn’t see you around before?”

              “I’m in the visual information sector. Under the Intelligence,” Y/N quirks a small smile, “We’re not exactly known to run around for everyone to see.” 

              “Well, you’re right in that.”

              Y/N sighs, “It’s a shame it’s no longer in the current system. Forecrime was enough to cover their scope.”

              “Yeah. It was kinda shocking at first because we’re used to sending in witnesses to the Intelligence and just wait for the finished composite sketch. The first time we tried the system with Forecrime, I was actually shocked. I didn’t expect the suspect’s face will be already clearly recorded as soon as the case was filed in.”

              “But they work faster than our traditional papers and pencils so it’s a good upgrade,” Y/N muses.

              Jungkook nods. He clears his throat. “So…have you been sketching composite drawings ever since you got in, or you got to work in other departments, too?”

              “I just did composite sketches. I don’t know what else to do,” Y/N shrugs. “I graduated a bachelor’s in Forensic Science. I actually don’t want to join the police. I wanted to do fine arts. But my mother was the one financing my education so I followed what she said. Said it matches my wit and I’ll make plenty money out of it,” Y/N shakes her head, chuckling. “She doesn’t know how money works here. Look at me, I got a job from it but I’m not rich.”

              “But did you like your work,” Jungkook looks at her, “even just a bit?”

              “Hell yeah,” Y/N smiles. “Aside from feeling accomplished whenever my drawing helps the police catch the criminal, it feels good to be able to comfort witnesses and victims from their trauma. Whenever I interview them to gather descriptions, or let them pick distinct features they’ve seen from the catalog book, I see this gleam in their eyes. The one that that says, ‘I’m taking back the integrity and power this motherfucker took from me.’ It’s hella satisfying seeing them feel avenged in some way. And that, I helped them feel this way.”

              Jungkook smiles, “Seems like you love your work. Not just a bit of it.”

              “Of course,” Y/N tuts, “I wouldn’t stay so long and get over 400 criminals caught just because of my drawings.”

              “If you don’t mind me asking…what made you resign?”

              Y/N whips her head towards him.

              Jungkook gulps. “Namjoon said you didn’t get dismissed because of the turnover of Intelligence to Forecrime.  He said you…resigned.”

              “Well, he isn’t wrong,” Y/N stands up, grabbing her helmet, “I did resign. As for the reason why,” Y/N looks at his eyes, “I have my own boundaries like you, captain.” She turns around and starts for the exit, “It’s getting late. I think it’s time to go home now.”

              Jungkook follows behind, face conflicted. 

              The ride to his home felt completely different from earlier. Jungkook felt her stiff in his hold. The tension between them, undeniably thick. Jungkook feels if he says a word, he’ll set off a bomb. Y/N’s speed is faster than their trip to the hospital, reaching Jungkook’s condominium in record time. Whether it’s to go home earlier or to get away from him as soon as she can, Jungkook can’t tell.  When she dropped him off, Jungkook said his thanks and bid her goodbye. Y/N didn’t say anything. She just waved goodbye and sped away.

              Pushing himself off the table, Jungkook pulls up his phone.

              Jungkook: I’m sorry I ticked you off. I didn’t mean to. (6:36 P.M.)

              His reply came a second later.

              Y/N L/N: It’s okay. You didn’t tick me off. (6:36 P.M.)

              His phone rings one more time.

              Y/N L/N: Good night. (6:37 P.M.)

              Jungkook puts his phone down. He glances back at his computer.

              “Error 401: The name you’re searching, ‘Sooah Kim,’ doesn’t exist.”

              A loud thud resounds. Jungkook springs up and whips around his back.

              Namjoon stands by the hall, frozen. The door pushed open wide, the doorknob recoiling from the wall. 

              Jungkook’s stiff shoulders immediately loosen. “God, don’t startle me like that.”

              “Sorry,” Namjoon squeaks as he turns to kick the door close. Jungkook sees two huge gray briefcases by his friend’s feet.

              He stands up and walks to the analyst. “What are these?”

              Namjoon hangs his coat on one of the hooks behind the door. “Work from the Bureau. We still got loads of unprocessed transactions,” Namjoon goes to the table and grabs a cracker. “The chief was furious.”

              Jungkook follows his friend, “Natasha Ryde?”

              “Yeah,” Namjoon says, “We got a huge backlog from DOJ freezing our coordinating processes just to check if each one of us is clean. Now, they’re rushing us to let them see all the recent files of the Bureau. Natasha wants us to clean our shelves before DOJ can catch wind of the backlog and suspect something unnecessary again.” 

              Jungkook tongues his cheek. If Natasha is busy cleaning up the Bureau, that means his favor to Chief Spencer will not be processed soon. And with DOJ sniffing on the backs of the Bureau, Namjoon won’t be able to help him. He has to find an alternative fast. Jungkook tilts his head, “The DOJ is still not finished with their conspiracy theory against the Bureau?”

              Namjoon shrugs off his blazer, “Yup. Well, we practically hold more information than Precrime and Forecrime combined. Of course, they’re gonna sort us out first. And it’s only ‘bout time ‘til they go for the Basement Archives.”

              Jungkook’s forehead furrows, “Why? I thought the Basement Archives just store outdated files of the previous system’s Bureau?”

              “Old. Not outdated. Those are two different things. Even if some files there are deemed scraps from the past after the technology turnover, they still contain valuable information. Our computers there may look archaic but it doesn’t change the fact they’re made by the Bureau. No matter how slow they are, they still have access to the master system.” Namjoon chuckles, “But of course, you wouldn’t know that. The Basement is exclusive to the Bureau after all."

              “Why are you telling me this?”

              Namjoon shrugs, “Just wanna dispel the myth around it before it goes. DOJ may take it away as soon as they’re done with us.” Namjoon takes off his ID and chucks it on the cabinet by the hallway that leads to their bedrooms. Jungkook’s eyes immediately dart to the article.

              “Enough about me. How are you?”

              Jungkook whips his head towards his friend.

              “What did the doctor say?” Namjoon points to his arm. 

              “It’s fine,” Jungkook assures. “It healed well. Though I still have to wear bandages to prevent it from splitting open.”

              “That’s good then,” Namjoon nods in understanding. He purses his lips. He looks back at Jungkook. “I heard about what happened earlier.”

              “Oh that?”

              “Hoseok told me on my way out. Jungkook,” Namjoon sighs, “If you called me you needed to leave for an emergency, I would have driven you to the hospital.”

              Keeping his face straight, Jungkook claps Namjoon’s shoulder. “Hey, don’t fret too much about it. I got to the hospital early and I’m fine.”

              “How did you get there early?”

              “Well, uh,” Jungkook darts his eyes away, “Y/N drove me.”

              Namjoon’s forehead furrows, “She drove you?”

              Jungkook nods, “Yeah. She met me on my way and offered me a ride.”

              “Didn’t know you two are being chummy now,” Namjoon hums, “It took us a month just to get her to talk openly with us.” He tilts his head and turns around, heading to his room.

              As soon as Namjoon disappears in his room, Jungkook bounds to the cabinet. He grabs the analyst’s ID and dashes to his office. Pressing the buttons of his flat digital copier on his desk, he hurriedly slides the ID into the bottom slot. The machine starts with a soft whirr and in a second, its mechanical hands start to 3D print a duplicate of the ID.

              However, Jungkook’s luck is short-lived. He hears two knocks sound against his door and Namjoon’s muffled voice in the hallway, “Hey can I come in?”

              Jungkook bites his lip. His copier has just finished replicating one edge of Namjoon’s ID. It’s nowhere near done and he can’t let Namjoon see this.

              Namjoon calls once again, “Nevermind, I’ll be quick anyway.”

              Immediately, Jungkook grabs his jacket slung on his chair and drapes it messily over his desk, haphazardly covering his keyboard and copier.

              In the same second, the office’s door swings open and Namjoon stands inside, wearing sweats and a faded blue shirt. The man smiles, “Sorry, I forgot something.”

              “It’s alright,” Jungkook rounds his desk and walks to the rectangular table in the center of the room. He leans his hip against it, the pressure from the edge softened by the table cloth running on its laterals. Jungkook chuckles, “I don’t know if you forgot, but this is also your office.”

              “I didn’t forget,” Namjoon chuckles. He sits on his own desk on the left corner and places a water bottle by his side, “I felt like making an apology beforehand because I think my search will take a while.” He glances at Jungkook, “Even if we share this room, it feels like I’m intruding your space. With the amount of time you’ve spent in here, you practically live in this room.” 

              Jungkook presses his lips together.

              Namjoon turns back to his desk and pulls drawer after drawer, fingers continuously searching what he intends to find. After another minute of fumbling, he pushes the last drawer close in a forceful shut, “Yep, it will definitely take a while.”

              Jungkook raises a brow, “Why? What are you looking for?”

              Namjoon stands up and nears the center table, uncapping the water bottle, “Keys. Bureau-issued. To open the briefcases I brought.” He tips the bottle to his lip and drinks. After a couple of gulps, he places the uncapped bottle on the table, “You mind if I go to your table?”

              Panic sets off in Jungkook’s chest. His copier is just an inch away from his keyboard. Even if it has a soft mechanical whirr, it’s impossible for anyone who’ll sit in the chair not to know the copier is processing something. And with his jacket laying on it, it’s sure Namjoon will become suspicious. Jungkook tries to keep his voice stable, “I don’t mind. But can I ask why?”

              “I used your copier to duplicate the key before I went to work. Seokjin called the second I was done and I had to use one of your memo pads so I pulled all your drawers ‘til I find them. I think they fell in one of the drawers.” Namjoon sends him an apologetic smile, “Sorry.” 

              Namjoon starts to make a move toward Jungkook’s desk. Before the analyst could move his hand away from the table, Jungkook tugs the table cloth. It sends the bottle off-balance and it topples to the edge, spilling its contents everywhere.

              Namjoon whirls around and sees the wet mess. He immediately crouches down to flip up the bottle again. “Oh shucks, I’m sorry! I didn’t know I left it uncapped.”

              Jungkook nears his friend, “It’s fine. I can clean it up.”

              “No, I’ll clean up,” Namjoon insists. “It’s my mess. I have to clean it up.” He stands up and disappears into the hallway.

              Jungkook steps back and takes a seat on his chair. Namjoon comes back with a mop in his hands. With Namjoon busy clearing the water spill, Jungkook opens his drawers and starts his search for the keys. His top drawer is devoid of anything but pens and other office supplies. His middle drawers only contain folders and papers. He feels like he has to restart his search again until his hands land in the last compartment in the bottom drawer. His eyes catch a metallic glint in the dark. He leans forward and sees the falcon insignia of the Investigation Bureau. Jungkook grins. 

              He sits back up in his chair just in time Namjoon returns in the office, the mop nowhere in sight.

              Jungkook stands up, waving the two keys in the air, “Found them.”

              “Oh god, thank you so much,” Namjoon sighs, retrieving the keys.

               “Anytime,” Jungkook smiles.

              “Sorry again ‘bout the water.”

              “Hey, it’s just a spill,” Jungkook snorts, waving dismissively.

              Namjoon sends him a timid smile. He turns around and pulls the door open.

              “Hey, Namjoon. What time is your lunch tomorrow?”

              Namjoon stops. “At 12. Why?”

              “Gonna see if I can join you,” Jungkook grins.

              Namjoon breaks into a grin as well, “That will be great then.” He closes the door behind him.

              When Jungkook hears faint footsteps lead to the living room, he heads back to his desk and rips his jacket away. Two identification cards gleam under the light, unmistakably identical.

              When Jungkook reaches the fifth floor, he goes to the leftmost door. He doesn’t knock. He pushes the thick wooden door and lets himself in.

              “Oh, you’re here,” Matthew glances from his work. He motions to the leather chair in front of him. “Come, sit, son.”

              “Thank you, sir,” Jungkook smiles.

              Matthew piles his papers in a neat stack and pushes it aside. “How’s your arm?”

              “Just got the stitches out yesterday,” Jungkook says.

              Matthew nods, “That’s good then. You won’t have an injury hindering you anymore.” Matthew chuckles, “I missed seeing you run around the building doing god knows what. You’ve always been a busy bee.”

              Jungkook smiles, “Well, I would have been like that if it weren’t for DOJ.”

              “Right,” Matthew nods, his smile immediately slipping off his face. He clasps his hands together and sighs, “So, yesterday, you went off work so suddenly.”

              Jungkook sits up straight. “Yes, sir, I’m sorry you have to cover for me. I just—”

              Matthew holds up a hand, smiling, “You don’t have to explain yourself, son. I know you’re dealing with a lot of stuff. After all, you just survived a car accident. It must still be weighing down on you.”

              “It’s alright,” Jungkook shrugs.

              Matthew darts his eyes to his desk. He sighs as he turns back to the captain. “Jungkook, you mustn’t allow Yoongi to see any gap.”

              Jungkook’s forehead furrows, “Sir?”

              “Everyone is talking about how you rushed out of FJO with your team and Yoongi chasing after you. They don’t know where you went and surely, a captain being chased by his subordinates and the auditor is an unforgettable spectacle. I had Jimin relay an emergency excuse about your arm and luckily, that immediately quelled your sector.” Matthew’s smile falls, “But it seems it wasn’t enough for the auditor.”

              Jungkook stills in his seat.

              Matthew sighs, “I heard from Hoseok that Yoongi suspects you have some source—external or internal, whatever—to the blank that dropped yesterday. And he’s suspicious of that.”

              Jungkook keeps his face indifferent.

              “Look,” Matthew leans forward, “I don’t mind whether you consult external help or not. Desperate measures call for all the help you need. We do whatever we have to do and I respect whatever decision you’ll make. All I ask, son, is,” Matthew looks at him in the eyes, “be careful. Your sector is hot in DOJ’s eyes and I don’t want to see you get placed in a position where I can no longer help you. I can’t see you lose everything you’ve worked so hard for. You didn’t spend 15 years climbing the hierarchy just to get prematurely dismissed from your job.”

              Jungkook nods, “Yes, sir, I understand. I’ll take extra care from now on.”

              “Okay,” Matthew turns back to his documents and Jungkook takes it as a signal to leave. He salutes at the Chief General and makes his way towards the door only to be halted by a call of his name.

              “Jungkook, do you still take those…medications?”

              The captain doesn’t reply.

              Matthew sighs, “Make sure Yoongi won’t know about that.”

              “Of course, sir,” Jungkook pulls the door open, “Thank you, once again.”

              Stepping out of the Chief General’s office, Jungkook heads to the elevator and pushes the button for the archives. It’s time to work now.

              Jungkook has searched for Sooah Kim in Precrime, Forecrime’s systems. He even checked in Freedom Security’s system. But nothing has turned up. He even looked into Jonathan Winston’s history of associations and not one Sooah Kim appeared. He tried searching through hospitals, laboratories, and research centers for an employee or associate named Sooah Kim. But still, nothing. He’s already exhausted every search engine and system of both the general public and the government and yet he’s made zero progress. Holding onto the duplicated ID of his friend, Jungkook’s only choice left is FJO’s Basement Archives. 

              Jungkook looks at his watch. 12:10. He pulls up his phone.

              Jungkook: Namjoon, I think I’ll do a raincheck on our lunch (12:10 P.M.).

              The elevators open on the third floor. 

              “Captain Jeon,” Sally salutes at him. Jungkook returns the salute and pushes past the heavy glass doors of the Archives. He heads to the left aisle and walks to the 5th row shelf. He ghosts his fingers over the line of files until it lands on a particular red file—the recent attempted assassination of James Kim. He opens it and slowly flips page after page.

              From his peripheral, Jungkook looks at his right. The walkway is devoid of any people. There’s just metal shelves and files. The hallway it connects to, the center aisle, is devoid of people as well. Jungkook looks up. Only about 4 cameras are installed above the aisle.

              Jungkook spends another minute flipping through the file before he closes it shut and inserts it back in its place. With his alibi set, Jungkook walks along the 5th row until he reaches its corner where he disappears from the vicinity of the cameras. 

               Jungkook turns around and starts on the center aisle. To anyone who’s looking at the surveillance cameras, it will look like Jungkook’s just viewing a file in the 5th row’s corner, which just happened to be a blind spot in surveillance. With the general security disregard on the old and faded Archives and its basement level, Jungkook takes advantage of the system’s blind spots as he threads along the aisle, guided with the knowledge of the general scopes of standard surveillance cameras.

              But just when he’s about three feet away from the end of the aisle, two staff members stroll across, pushing a huge cart of files. Jungkook swerves to the nearby shelf and hides. When he glances up, a CCTV camera is staring right at him. Jungkook holds his breath.

              Nothing. No alarm has been set off. No red lights are sweeping across the room. Just nothing.

              Sweat runs down Jungkook’s temple.

              The chatters and footsteps fade away and still, nothing.

              A couple of seconds pass by in silence.

              Jungkook slowly stands up. The silence remains unbroken. No one must be watching.

              Jungkook looks at his watch. 12: 20. He only has 10 minutes left of leeway from his lunch.

              Jungkook comes out of hiding and continues forward, making it to the end of the aisle. He arrives at a plain wall coated in navy paint. Old and faded. Just like the rest of the Archives. Jungkook spots the rectangular metallic plaque on his left. He scans Namjoon’s duplicated ID under it. A second later, a faint shadow outlines a figure of a door onto the wall. It pops open and the door slides to the right, revealing an escalator that leads downward. Jungkook steps inside and the door immediately shuts behind him.

              The Basement Archives is dark, its walls painted in olive green. Several dim hanging lamps light up the room. Jungkook knows the Basement Archives is connected to the second floor of FJO’s main building, behind the hallway that bridges Precrime and Forecrime. But he didn’t expect it to be this extensive. The Basement Archives is about the same height as the main floor. Its area, a half of its upper floor. What makes it a seeming replica of the main floor though are its metal shelves. Unlike the main floor’s circular labyrinth, the Archive Basement’s shelves are aligned in straight horizontals, like a snake coiling on itself. And far ahead, Jungkook could see 2010s computers lining the room’s perimeter. 

              Only when Jungkook steps away from the escalator does he only see the similarities between the basement and the main floor. The metal shelves are rusting in their edges. The files and books they hold, covered in dust. Even the small indents on its metal flooring are worn thin. Some are even already busted. The Basement Archives is old and faded. Jungkook only hopes what Namjoon said is right.

              Jungkook walks past the rows of shelves and heads to computers. Grabbing a seat, he sets off to work.

              The monitor alights to FJO’s coat of arms. And then, it displays the FJO standard wallpaper. The keys of the keyboard instantly crunch under Jungkook’s fingers as he hits on the shortcuts for FJO’s system. The processing of the command takes a while and when it opens, the elements are scattered and labeled in unfamiliar names. Nevertheless, Jungkook manages to get inside the Surveillance system after a couple of minutes of fumbling. He deletes the footage of him hiding behind the shelves and stretches the clip of him just walking through the hallway. Satisfied, he confirms the command and watches the new CCTV footage play. Only his back is shown to the camera from his entry inside the Archives to his walk towards the Basement Archives. He looks just like any Bureau analyst entering the Basement.

              With his identity secured, Jungkook goes to the general system and starts his search for Sooah Kim.

              Only to arrive at— 

              “Error 141: The name “Sooah Kim” doesn’t exist in the system.”

              Jungkook squints at the monitor. He refreshes the computer again and again. He tries to search for additional keywords: “hospital,” “research center,” “laboratory,” and “Jonathan Winston.” But he arrives at the same result:

              “Error 141: The name “Sooah Kim” doesn’t exist in the system.”

              Jungkook sighs frustratedly. He clicks again and again and the computer produces the same result again and again. Jungkook pushes himself off the desk. There’s got to be a way to find this Sooah Kim. If she’s related to Winston’s assassination, she must be inside the system. Jungkook glances around the room. Just then, his eyes land on a door on his far right.

              The door is made of metal and it’s almost invisible in the dark save for the black and yellow hazard tape under a note that says, “Restricted. Authorized Personnel Only.”

              Jungkook dashes to the door. He spots the metal plaque beside it and scans the ID.

              A red light glows from the plaque’s sensor. The plaque’s small screen lights up and flashes in red: “Access denied.”

              Jungkook scans it again.

              Red light. “Access denied.”

              Jungkook bites his cheek.

              Red light. “Access denied.”

              Grunting, Jungkook picks up his phone.

              Jungkook: Sir, do you have any updates on last time’s work?” (12:25 P.M.)

              Jungkook’s personal phone rings. Seeing the familiar set of numbers, Jungkook picks it up.

              “Jungkook.”

              “Chief Spencer.”

              Nathan sighs, “Look, I’m afraid the authorization of your unrestricted access to the Archives may get delayed. I already applied for the authorization of access but the Bureau hasn’t responded yet. I heard from one of the lieutenants there DOJ is keeping a hard eye on the Bureau. Natasha refused my calls, too. I think she will not be accommodating anytime soon. As for the Memory Temple…the answer is obvious.”

              Jungkook pinches his nose bridge. He already expected this will go against his plans but he didn’t know it will be at this dragging extent. He heaves a sigh, “I understand, sir.

              “Okay. I’ll try on my end to get through the Chief.”

              “Thank you, sir.”

              “Thank you, too. Please extend my gratefulness to Chief General Andrews as well. My wife loved the necklace.”

              “I’m glad she did, sir.”

              “Yeah,” Nathan says. A beat. Nathan clears his throat, “I’ll end the call now.”

              “Goodbye, sir,” Jungkook replies. The line goes dead.

              Jungkook leans his back against the wall and closes his eyes. His heartbeat rings in his ears. Loud. Just like when he almost had Leigh Anderson in his hands. Jungkook releases a frustrated sigh. He’s come all this way just to have nothing. Again.

              His personal phone vibrates in his hands, jolting his eyes open. His eyes widen at the screen.

              Y/N L/N

              He immediately swipes to answer. “Y/N, hi—”

              “Jungkook. A red file will drop about—now. Listen to me. Take the stairs, okay?”

              Jungkook walks away from the door, forehead furrowed. “What do you mean?”

              “If you follow the crime record you won’t catch the killer.”

              Jungkook shuts the computer and jogs to the escalator, “What killer?”

              “Look, you don’t have much time. So listen to me. Just take the stairs.”

              The call abruptly ends. Jungkook looks at his phone, bewildered. Right at the moment, his work phone vibrates with another incoming call. 

              Jungkook whips it out from his pocket and presses it to his ear, “Taehyung.”

              “Captain Jeon, come to the Murder Sector, quick. It’s a red file.”

              Jungkook halts.

              “The time of the crime is in 10 minutes. Hurry.”

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Note: This story is based on Steven Spielberg’s film adaptation of Philip K. Dick’s short story, Minority Report (2002). That being said, this series may contain spoilers for the movie so if you want to watch the movie, please do so first before reading!

A/N pt. 2: Heya Hons! Thank you for reading! This chapter is quite short compared to the first two. The next chapter will be much longer though hehe. Writing this chapter is probably the most I have ever re-written so many scenes again and again. Especially the action scenes, they gave me a headache. Nevertheless, I’m happy how they turned out! What do you think about them? Feel free to talk with me! I actually love talking with my readers!

I think the next update will come two weeks from now. So far, I’m noticing I’m able to post for this series bi-weekly. Although this week, I’ll focus on the Chapter 3 of my yoongi office au series, The Heart Holiday. I promised my hons the THH!couple is coming this June but my finals two weeks ago fucked up my schedule and now I’m quite behind my supposed posting date. Anyway, I’ll make it up to you hons! Your wait is gonna be worth it because a lot is going to happen in THH Act 3!

As usual, if you guys wanna get notified as soon as I post the next chapter, I’m gonna add you all to my taglist! Just hit me up down the comments of this series’ masterlist so I can better track you all! The search function of Tumblr is messing with me and my notifs in my inbox usually come late so it’s highly probably your asks and DMs may get lost ☹

Once again, thank you for reading My Time! :”)

Note pt.2: As you know, this is a mystery fic so it will be most appreciated if any theories pertaining to the story be kept down the comments so I can entertain them all without spoiling our future readers! Once again, thank you so much for reading this!

All Rights Reserved 2020 © Vanaera. Reposts, modifications, and translations of content are not allowed without direct permission.

[kkulmoon]

SUNSET HEARTBEAT | KTH

pairing: Taehyung x Reader (f)

genre: fantasy au, hybrid au, sci-fi (?), fluff, angst

word count: 5.1k

rating: pg

a/n: ngl i feel like the beginning portion is a bit rusty, by rusty I mean it may feel a bit slow but pls give it a chance 🥺, I struggled to write that 😭. I am also tagging two very lovely people who were excited about this, hopefully you like it uwu @blossomkoo​ @inkedxclouds​. This fic is part of Bangtan Scenery’s collab ‘April Showers Bring May Flowers’, make sure to check out everyone else’s entries!

warnings: implied sex, other than that none, except for heartbreak and slight purple patches here and there cause I was in the mood hehe

beta read by: lovely angie @scvkjin​ and amazing emi @bangtiddies​ 💕 

synopsis: The time had come for the seventh sun to rise. For the seventh and last color in line to have its cycle. As one indigo supernova signified the coming of a purple nebula, you and Taehyung spent the remaining of your last day together creating something of your own. If it comes into fruition can only be known years in the future. A decade after you found someone unlike anyone. Truly one of a kind. Someone with a destiny they couldn’t outrun. It has been 10 years since the birth of a purple sun.

☁︎ masterlist ☁︎

It was in your final year of university, twelve years ago, that you met Taehyung. That same year you decided it was time to give up on the idea of becoming an astronomer. Quite frankly, you were just too dumb. However, it did not mean that you couldn't enjoy it all while living a life where pretending that you truly understood everything was your best bet, your only bet. They all say that interest and dedication trumps natural talent, right? For that same reason you decided to still attend as many astronomy lectures as possible even though you were studying to become an English teacher. You were always quiet and attentive so either the professors didn't notice you or let you be. Either way, what mattered was that you got to be there.

The first time the two of you interacted was a random weekday in April, near finals’ season. You were sitting at the back of the room as usual. The professor had handed out some papers to be passed back. A gold tinted hand with slender fingers, on which well groomed and shiny fingernails were present, reached out to you. You could all but wave away at the paper, trying your best to dismiss it. A pouty and confused expression was what you got as he continued to jab the paper onto your palm. You kept trying to mouth 'it's okay' but he was persistent. Not much of a purple characteristic but surely a sun one, now that you think about it. Finally you settled for a verbal response.

“I don't actually take this class, so really, i'm fine.”

He retreated his hand for a second, “Huh, don't we all wish that was true,” he said as he placed the paper on the small desk in front of you instead. “You've got this! We're almost done, hold in there.” You got a thumbs up before he turned back to focus on the class.

And every week from there on, whenever he got a short moment in class while the professor was writing on the board Taehyung would pester you with motivational notes filled with sayings. One particular somber April morning where you looked more tired than usual he even went as far as offering to help you with the class and your homework. You did your best to decline and yet that same night you got an email in your inbox that told you he obviously hadn't understood.

| Kim Taehyung     Chapter 15: Helpful Resources, (hang on there, you got this!) |

While you didn't take the class and had no official obligations to learn anything, you were still interested in astronomy so you decided to have a look. The links did clear up some questions you had during the lecture. However, you didn't want him to be wasting time helping a lost cause. As much as you loved reading about astronomy and learning about it, you were slow and having him help you was more than unnecessary. The definition of futile work. You decided to send him a screenshot of the official classes you were attending from the university's student portal. You made sure to censor your grades. He truly didn't need to think that you were any dumber, all he needed was proof that you weren't taking the class.

But once again, Taehyung's sun qualities shone through. Where it would have been expected for the person to drop the subject and for the two of you to go back to your habitual behaviour, he thought otherwise. He responded, but this time instead of answers he had questions, none of which you felt like answering so you left him on read. Well, the email version of read. You opened the email, read it, thought about answering it but ultimately left the email thread to die on the read pile.

A week went by. No Taehyung and you felt relieved. At least that's how you think you felt, the sleep deprivation might have been playing tricks on you. As yet another day came, where the indigo sun let its rays shine, Taehyung thought it better for him to act as the sun. You hadn't seen him in class, but it just turned out he changed his usual spot. He tried to catch you before you left the room but your daydreaming self was quick on her feet. He had a quick talk with the professor before he hurried to you.

“Hey!” The sound of sandals echoed against the cement floor. “Hey! You there!" 

You kept on walking, as far as you knew your name wasn’t you there'.  Someone grumbled behind you only to exclaim after a short while. 

“Y/N! Y/N! Hold up, I need to talk to you.” So in that case you were 'you there' and someone was Taehyung. 

You stopped walking and turned around. You couldn’t help but cock your head at him. You had only seen Taehyung from the torso up while in class. His attire surprised you for some reason. Maybe because he was a STEM student and you had expected him to look more uptight. He looked like one of the people from the pot dorm down your hallway.  Everything he wore was oversized except for the big knitted headband he had on now that he was outside. He looked devoid of colour with his muted clothes, but his cross body bag stood out with its patterned rainbow material.

"Yeah, what is it?" The quicker you could get it over with the better. However, Taehyung didn’t seem to agree with you on that aspect. He took his sweet time to fix the misplaced headband as you were left to witness the action. As much as you would have liked to categorise the scene as boring, it would have been a lie. His grey hair strands somehow managed to sparkle in the sun. They didn’t shine the normal way hair shines when light reflects on it. His hair literally sparkled as if it had recognised something familiar within the sun rays. But at the time you just thought you were being delusional or being tricked by the elements of his beauty.

"You didn't answer my email," he asked with curious eyes and an innocent tone. Right, that happened.

"Oh, that... uhm... I just haven't gotten the time to go through my email, things have been a bit hectic," you shot him a sympathetic smile.

Taehyung seemed like a pretty understanding person but he sure wasn’t dumb. You saw the way his tongue shifted to lick his lips as his teeth found their way onto his bottom lip. He trailed his hands on the strap of his bags as a pensive lip bite made adorned his features. Taehyung could have either been nervous or so irked by the bullshit you just spat at him that his body was reacting. Either way you felt bad for your white lie, but maybe not bad enough.

"It has been two weeks though," Taehyung stretches his back to stand straighter, "Also I take a chem class with Hoseok and you're always chatting in the gmail chat so..." 

What do you say to that? You lied and the worst part of it all was that you were caught right in the same moment. Your mouth opened and closed continuously as a hot flush made itself present on your ears and neck. You made note of the fact that Taehyung seems sweet but he actually packed a punch and was definitely ready to confront you on your bullshit. Classic STEM student approach, just face things head on. Thinking back at it, that was yet another instance in which his sun characteristics took the wheel. The sun's rays don't budge for anything or anyone and they certainly don't cave in to make others feel comfortable.

"Uhmm... right. But I am here now, so ask away!" Maybe your fake enthusiasm could make up for your little lie. Taehyung gave you a wondering look as he calculated  the pros and cons of continuing this conversation, You hoped the cons would win. 

“Uhmm, alright, fair enough,” He shrugged and the pros must have won because he kept talking. “Why do you go to astronomy lessons if you don’t take the class?”

Why did he want to get into your personal business? You could have very well told him that it was none of his business, turned around and left. But that seemed a tad bit too rude for you and for some weird reason you didn't want him to think of you as any more rude that you had been.

Would you paint yourself as an overly ambitious student that just had a general love of learning or would you tell him the truth? If you were to lie again you were sure he wouldn't manage to uncover this lie.

"I just like astronomy and find the class interesting, on top of that I've got time so like why not?" You felt good about your response, so good you were happy that you had made the choice not to lie to him, again.

"Oh okay, then how come you didn't apply for the program?" Wow, this dude was really trying to uncover all of your flaws during the first real conversation you've had. He should have become a detective instead, his focused and analysing eyes made it very hard for you to lie and not feel any residual guilt. He would, without a doubt, catch you if you were to slip up again.

"Uhm... I just felt like education was the right place for me you know." You shook your head with squinted eyes in hopes that he would just get you. Which he obviously didn’t if you had to go off of the way his jaw jutted out to the side. 

"Well, to put it simply, I am not the brightest of students and while actually taking the class would have been a nightmare, just being there and listening and learning at my own slow pace just makes me feel better about my shortcomings."

Taehyung's lips parted slightly. Okay, maybe you didn't have to give such a confession but he had been pushing and you wanted it to just end.

"Ohh, I see." Not the response you expected but how else do you respond to someone who said that they were too dumb to follow their dream. "But still my offer stands, if you need help trying to understand anything, feel free to tap my shoulder in class."

"But you changed seats to sit in the front."

"Nah not really, I was just bitter that you hadn't answered and didn't want to hurt you. From now on you'll see me at my usual spot in front of you."

The squeamish movement that accompanied the words ‘hurt you’ gave rise to a wondering look on your face. Hurt you? Why would he hurt you? Taehyung looked pretty harmless so you decided to not take his weird comment at face value. He most likely meant hurting you in a verbal sense.

The rest of the semester progressed in that same weird manner that characterised your relationship with Taehyung. A constant push and pull that kept being encouraged by your closest friends– Hoseok being the top player in the game. Inevitably, the more time you spent with him the more you warmed up to him. A month down the road the two of you decided to put a label on it. Or it was more so you who needed a verbal confirmation that you had somehow managed to catch someone's interest.

It took you awhile to reset the way you thought. Your wandering mind wasn’t only filled with personal affairs anymore, another individual had found their place in your day to day thoughts. All of a sudden being affectionate wasn't something you had to actively be, it was simply default mode whenever Taehyung crossed your field of vision.

For that reason alone, finals season was filled with movie nights, whispered love confessions, enough takeaways from different cuisines that you felt you were now ready to become a food critic. But the most precious instances of that time was the afternoons where Taehyung did his best to teach you astronomy and you being too lazy to listen despite your interest. You can't help but ask yourself if you would have been more attentive had you known what astronomy actually meant to him.

You had now been with Taehyung for one entire year. One year filled with diametrically opposite feelings. The good, the bad and the ugly. But ultimately all of it was left at the door the moment the two of you decided to reconcile despite the drawbacks. You were happy. The kind of happy that you don't recognise until it's gone. That can only be acknowledged in the midst of incoming fury. You had never in your life wished for the ability to predict the future. To see what happens after sunrise before it is manifested. 

One particular day eleven years ago, you wished that astronomy was fake, that the sun wasn't real and that it never needed to rise or set, to be born or die. You wished the sun didn't exist, knowing very well that that would mean the most important person in your life wouldn't exist. But you could have dealt with that. 

Longing for something you know you could have hurts far more than craving for the unknown. In the latter situation there's at least hope, that if you search hard and long enough you could find that thing you so deeply want. In the former, you know where that thing is, it's in fact right under your nose, or more accurately right over your head, where you can feel it at least a little bit every single day. Except this time you can't have it, no matter how hard you wish for it or how long you choose to wait. The whole scenario was like a twisted marshmallow test. Made to incite cravings with no intention of ever quenching them.

This all started a year following the start of your relationship with Taehyung. At that time you took notice to how hot he would get at the most unexpected of times. A behaviour that was usually reserved for when he was irritated or angry. It wasn’t only him that was hot but he radiated the kind of heat reserved for an extremely sunny summer’s day. 

You overlooked those instances and decided not to pay them too much mind. It could just be you having the extreme hots from him. However on a particular night, you just couldn’t bring yourself to stay in bed with Taehyung. The sheets were drenched and the windows had fogged up. You had to leave and find refuge in your living room sleeping right by a fan. 

The coming morning you woke up to breakfast on the table and right beside it there was a thick pocket sized book. The Book Of Suns. That was the white title that was engraved onto the black cover. Taehyung was nowhere to be found but his belongings were still in your room so you assumed he had gone for his morning walk. 

You had to make a choice between the two. Would you read the book first or you would eat breakfast first? You knew that whatever you were about to find out would most likely curb your appetite. Your hand glided against the rough cover of the book. 

Wouldn't it be better to read it now, just in case something made you extremely sad? That way you could cry before he got back home. Whatever it was that you were about to find out was very important to him, important enough that he wanted you to form your own opinion of it in peace. He wanted in no way for his presence to taint your reaction towards the truth that he had been hiding. Or as he thought protecting you from.

You sat down by the table, knees to your chest as you brought the book onto your hands. 'The Book Of Suns' was, as you realised after reading it, just that, a book about suns, in particular Taehyung’s sun lineage. It was a story about your world’s suns, the rainbow sun family. A fact unknown to you before that very moment. You were surprised by your behaviour, you weren’t exactly known for having calm reactions. It must have been Taehyung’s scent on the sweater you wore. It tickled your nose and calmed your senses. The book served as a track record for the next person in line to become the sun. It had seven chapters. Beside each chapter title in the contents page there were small vertical lines. The first six suns had five lines while the last had four. Taehyung must be purple sun. You read silently or more so you attempted to read silently, the deep breaths you were taking in effort to digest everything couldn't be contained.

After a continuous hour of reading you got to what was perhaps the most interesting chapter. Where do the dead suns go? And most importantly what do the suns that have yet to be born stay? You were cautious about continuing your reading. What if you found out that Taehyung was in fact just the ghost of someone that didn't actually exist? Or worse what if Taehyung would cease to exist? 

Fear curbed your initiative to let your eyes continue their dance on the page. But fear also did its job in fixating your attention on the slightly faded black letters present on the off-white pages. Fear of the unknown is always worse than that of the known.

Deep in the forest, there was the garden of suns. Every time a sun died and resurrected as a human, their statue appeared in the garden, where their sun soul was kept, only to vanish on the day of their sun birth. In the middle of the pages there was a picture, at the back of it you could read Taehyung’s harsh handwriting ‘The garden of suns -15/07/39’. He had been there four days ago.

The statues of the first five suns were covered with vibrant collared moss equivalent of their sun pigment. The sixth and seventh sun’s statues were only slightly visible in the photograph. They seemed to be in an intermediary phase. Not quite gone, yet not quite there. It was hard to figure out whether they were emerging or vanishing. That’s until you remembered the previous week’s news report. A supernova was on its way and scientists believed it would most likely occur near the end of next year. 

The indigo sun is near its death, and a purple sun is nearing its ascent. 

Taehyung’s statue was the one vanishing. His sun soul was ready to find its owner and ascend to its rightful place amongst the other stars. Just as you were about to continue reading, ready to delve into how this whole sun birth situation went about, the sound of metal clashing against metal resounded in the dead silence. Clinging keys and heavy steps entered the apartment. 

No 'hello' or 'glad to see you're finally awake'. But could you blame him? It would have been weird to act as if it was like any other of your usual mornings. You wished you had mustered up the strength to get off the chair and go greet him at the entrance. In your mind you did that but in reality you stayed rooted right where you were, back squeezed into the corner between the table and chair.

Taehyung walked in to lean against the door frame that lead into the kitchen. He looked exhausted. Dark under eye bags decorated weary eyes. You thought you could hear a tentative squeak come out of his mouth. Maybe you should've said something, because he looked like he was hurting and trying to find the appropriate words to start a conversation he knew would only end with heartache and tears. You thought that talking about the small steps he made outside was a good way to segue into talking about the biggest step he would take in his life. One that he could unfortunately not walk back on. 

"How was your walk?" You managed to ask before Taehyung walked past the kitchen and into the bedroom. He stopped midway, standing in the living room, where sun rays illuminated his surroundings. You couldn't help but think that it was very fitting for him to become a sun. The rays may have been bright and hot but he was the only one able to make you feel as hot as the sun and make your smile shine brighter than the biggest star. He was already a sun. Your sun. Why did he need to leave and become everyone's sun as well?

"Pretty good, helped me wake up," he said and sat down on the bean bag present beside him. You put the book down on the dining table just to look back at him from your seat. You were just there, in the moment, sitting down and doing your best to have an internal conversation. Both of you knew that words would hurt too much. And they surely couldn't bear the complete weight of what your current predicament meant neither could they have illustrated the joint pain that was shared between two beating hearts.

Your conversation might have been dead but the emotion was very much alive. You stood up from your seat, Taehyung's knitted sweater fell back down to caress your thighs. The walk to the beanbag felt like an eternity, not because it was but because you made it so. You had felt his sour and vigilant mood and you knew that being playful at that moment was your best bet. You tiptoed back and forth all the way to the beanbag as the sweater shifted here and there to reveal skin that was highlighted blue by the sun.

He was upset but he couldn't manage to keep his mouth set. His lips would stretch and unstretch as small playful wiggles played at the tip of his mouth. Finally you had found your way to the bean bag. You stood tall as your body cast a shadow over his. You placed a foot on the bean bag as the material sunk under your weight and you found your place on his lap. 

Right there, that's the kind of pat in the back that Taehyung gave you as his arms enveloped your slouching form. You snuggled your head deep into the crook of his neck and inhaled all the way in. If he was really gonna be leaving you, you needed to make sure you could imprint the scent and feel of his flesh right onto yours.

You sat there, quiet, with synchronised breaths yet fighting thoughts. How in the heck were you supposed to manage this? Him just being gone? Sure, you had a year left before it was officially time, but a year is far from a lifetime, what he had promised you.

"You are sure you don't want to talk about it?" Long hand strokes continue to comfort your back. You move your buried head side to side, groaning in response. Alright is all he said. Things were far from alright.

While on that morning you decided not to talk further on the topic, the coming months were filled with explorative trips to the Garden of Suns, where you would spend hours listening to Taehyung tell you about the stories of him and his sun brothers. He talked about being particularly close to the blue sun.

"It's just because he literally has no filter," he said gazing longingly at the statue covered with flashy blue moss.

"Is that like, dangerous?"

"Well yeah for you, but I am a sun remember." He turned around on the grass to face your way.

"And that's probably why I orbit around you." The huge grin that found its ways to your face was uncontrollable and contagious as Taehyung couldn’t help but snicker at your corny joke.

Just like that, your months together flew by until it was finally d-day. You hoped that waking up wouldn't be a necessity but Taehyung refused to let you sleep through it. He refused to let you think that it was all a dream. Getting yourself off the bed and into the shower felt like an endless task. One that he was patient enough to help you with. In hindsight you feel bad about having put him through that on such a significant day. He was, most likely, having a harder time dealing with his destiny than you were. That day was one to remember, the most vivid of them all, the most cherished of them all yet the most sad of them all.

All of that happened in the past and you were currently in an unsure present. The indigo sun had faced its fate, to be extinguished in an equally coloured supernova that would give rise to the last one in line, a purple sun. One day they would all be back to the complete cycle. A day where you wouldn't be present.

It has been ten years since Taehyung became a sun. You could talk to him, well, not really but you could see him and most importantly feel him. It had been a decade since you asked him to leave you something to remember him by, a part of him, a living one. On the night of Taehyung’s sun birth he decided to take you up on the offer. Cuddled up, in each other’s arms that’s how the day progressed. While usually persistent yet gentle, that night Taehyung felt it was appropriate and maybe in fact vital for him let his sun like ferocity be expressed. How else could you have understood the intensity of his feelings, a muddy mix of grief and love. The remains of that one last heated night were left for you to admire and cherish.

You thought you would manage to stay up the entire night to witness the purple sun birth but Taehyung’s warmth, forehead kisses and soft singing lulled you to sleep before you could realise it. 

Nothing was felt. No heat, no cold. Nothing was seen. No light, no spark. Taehyung was gone into the void in the same effortless way he entered your life. You’ve now been waiting over a decade to know if the fruits of that night would come into fruition. Conception can only happen when eclipses take place. Eclipses happen every 126 months. It has been 10 years. Half a year is left.

That half year could not have passed at a slower pace. It was a Thursday, yet another tiring day at school. You loved kids but you were drained of energy. You couldn't wait for time to pass by so that you could leave. It was Thursday, which meant you could watch the sunset to its complete  end without being bothered. It was also Thursday, the day after you got your first ultrasound. Taehyung may have not been there but that didn't mean you couldn't share the remaining of your waking hours with him, whenever you thought it was possible. You looked out of the window from your classroom to see purple hues in the sky as the sun said goodbye to leave place to another night.

The clouds thought otherwise, for some reason they always felt the need to be there to cloud his presence. What right did they have to cover up his tint? If it weren’t for them you would have been able to bask in his purple light, let it colour you bare as your feelings went from blank to purple butterflies that made you lose sight as tears formed in your eyes.

So you did what any sensible person still in love would have done. As soon as the clock struck 4 pm you ran to catch the train that would take you from skyscraper views to wide flower fields. It took the train two hours. You did your best to enjoy the way he set along the ride. Once you arrived you were left with two entire hours to enjoy the last of him and say goodbye to Taehyung and hello to the darkness.

During that time you reached into Taehyung's patterned cross body bag. You truly hated it but it was his so you kept it. You pulled out the ultrasound picture and raised it to the little part of sun that was still left. You didn't actually think that he would, through some weird magical way, actually be able to see it. It was more so something to calm your conscience. But most importantly, it presented you with the opportunity to capture an unusual family picture. It was you, the ultrasound, your baby bump and the purple sunset all in one picture. One that had found its rightful place on your bedside table.

Years unmasked themselves to reveal the growth of your child. One that grew to inherit the intensity of her father. Every now and then you made sure to let her know about him. As young as she was she couldn't truly understand it all, but as a child your love story was something that was within imaginable grounds. So you took advantage of that and taught her all you could about him. Maybe if you started early she could manage to develop past your less refined genes with regards to learning.

You took your time to tell her all that she wished to know and all that you wished to share. Sugarcoating to the maximum, cause that’s what Taehyung would do, but still making sure to keep a coherent timeline. One specific day you are unable to answer her question.

"Wh–why did dad break the promish?"

You had to fight long and hard with your tear ducts. Never had you cried in front her and you didn't intend to do it anytime soon.

In fact in one way or the other, Taehyung hadn't lied about keeping his promise. He had omitted some important specifics but he hadn't completely been untruthful. He said a lifetime and he would give you a lifetime. It just happened to be one where he wasn't always there, present by your side. 

However he would always get up to see you rise, and always say goodbye as he sets down to give place for lonely nights. And on all of those goodbyes unlike the one where he left you for the first and last time, you could swear that in bed with your child pressed to your chest, you could feel and hear his sunset heartbeat as clear and strong as the rays of a certain purple sun, your only one. Sun rays filled with his most cherished truth: 

‘I will turn purple when i miss you and to say i love you’.

Posted: May 28, 2020

[the-golden-ghost]

What’s on the list of classic books you read and DIDN’T like?

HELL YEAH (this one’s gonna come with some Complaining because I want to)

The House of Seven Gables: This is supposed to be Hawthorne’s best work ever and yet? It’s just... not even good. The Scarlet Letter was better, this one’s just boring and dry. I fell asleep every five seconds reading this.

Catcher in the Rye: Here we have a truly dismal book about a depressed teen wandering around NYC (I think it was NYC? I can’t even remember) having Deep Thoughts about Ducks and Life and Posers and... I dunno. If you wanted to read an angsty 16 year old boy’s diary then this is the book for you, I guess. Otherwise don’t bother. 

Hamlet: For much the same reasons as above. I like most Shakespeare plays so generally I will say I like all of Shakespeare but this is the one play I can’t stand (that isn’t like... widely considered to be bad. I mean I don’t like Henry VIII or All’s Well That Ends Well but nobody likes those). Pretty much again. It’s just some guy being Deep™ the whole play and I’m like Hi! I Don’t Care! Please Perform An Action Or I Am Checking Out!

Wuthering Heights: This one admittedly wouldn’t be so bad if it were taken more as a look on intergenerational abuse instead of like... Peak Romance. Also if every character didn’t have the same name I mean there’s a guy named Linton Linton what the fuck is happening

Anyway this one’s certainly not my least favorite but I still un-recommend it

The Wind in the Willows: What the fuck

Everything by H. P. Lovecraft: I know Lovecraft is obscenely racist but he’s hardly the only one. But the trouble is his obscene racism actually makes his horror less... horror-y cause it all boils down to “and then there was a Scary Thing” and that’s... it? It’s usually just Fear of the Unfamiliar and I just don’t vibe with that. 

As I Lay Dying: This one isn’t too bad again but the trouble is it requires you to create an excel spreadsheet of every family member and their relationships to each other and then read between the lines to figure out what’s going on at all. It’s basically a lot of work to read and parse, but the payoff isn’t... worth the effort. Still, it’s not my least favorite by any means but I’d give it a skip.

An American Dream: I can safely say this might be the worst book ever written. It’s boring, it’s sexist, the author clearly fancies himself to be Deep and Relatable but I guarantee you he isn’t. By the way, Normal Mailer also tried his hand in directing and produced one of the dumbest and most laughable scenes in cinematic history so yeah. Don’t read this book.

The Sun Also Rises: This is like American Dream in that it’s sexist and boring and not particularly deep or clever but actually, I don’t even think Hemingway was trying to write a good novel here. I just think people considered Hemingway to be a “great American author” and were prepared to classic-ize anything he wrote. Even if it’s this.

The Bell Jar: I wanted to like this book but man. It’s basically “Self-Centered Rich White Girl Complains About Her Life For 250 Pages: The Book.” I just couldn’t get with it. And yes, inb4 “well she had depression so :/” yeah I KNOW she had depression and I know the book was about the evils of sexism but. Still. Didn’t like it.

Heart of Darkness: I feel like if you’re going to set out to write an anti-imperialist and anti-racist text you should try to idk NOT further endorse racism and imperialism in the process but okay. Anyway this one wasn’t even all that good WITHOUT the racism, so the racism certainly did not help.

Dr. Faustus: I feel like I should probably give this one another chance, but overall I just found it to be a drag. But everything in it is stuff I would ordinarily like, you know. Homoerotic subtext, demons, The Perils Of Sacrificing One’s Humanity For Intellect, all the tropes. But for some reason I hated it so much that it put me off Marlowe forever.

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer: This one I didn’t like mostly cause I expected it to be funny and then it wasn’t. It was just kind of overrated. Mark Twain let me down. 

Robinson Crusoe: This is one of the few noteworthy novels of the 18th century and arguably the thing that kicked off the adventure genre (which has in turned spurred lots of other genres like sci-fi and fantasy) so it sucks that it’s actually pretty bad. It’s like “Manly Man Lives On An Island. Alone!” So really you could watch Cast Away and get the same effect WITHOUT all the racism and slavery apologism. 

[ice-cream-nekogirl]

Dump His Ass (Bakugou Katsuki X Reader)

Summary: You’re used to your boyfriend’s insults but when he crosses the line, you make him pay for it.

I love Stranger Things! XD I have that to thank for this title, seriously that’s the best advice if you have someone a partner, girl or boy, if they disrespect you too much or do something that betrays your trust or anything of the sort, dump their ass. :3

Featuring a Chubby!Reader

So that’ll be fun~. I can relate as a chubby person myself~.

Warning: Angst, swearing, and Stranger Things 3 Spoilers are in here so... read at your own risk...

Featuring: Lord Explosion Murder!!

You were everything, everything that I wanted... We were meant to be, supposed to be but we lost it... All of the memories so close to me, just fade away... All this time you were pretending, So much for my happy ending.

-My Happy Ending by Avril Lavigne

“ARGH…”

You put your hands in your head in frustration, fed up with all the work you had to do since despite the fact that it was summer, you still had work to do before you actually got that blessed summer break. The first thing you wanted to do once that break comes? Watch the new season of Stranger Things!!

It didn’t embarrass you when you said that you were dodging spoilers faster than any attacks you got during sparring matches with your classmates. You were so excited, even though you probably should have focused more on schoolwork and all that, you really just wanted to see the new season to one of your favorite shows.

And who knows? Maybe you can even convince your explosive-happy boyfriend to binge-watch it with you. You believed in miracles after all.

After all, Katsuki Bakugou was dating you; he was actually dating you. Yes, you two have been friends since childhood, along with your sweet dear friend Izuku Midoriya, but you were still hella surprised. Considering that your quirk wasn’t at it’s strongest and then compared to the other girls, you considered yourself rather… not pretty, given your weight, skin and overall appearance. 

Bakugou would hold you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world, and was even sometimes gentle with you every time the two of you hugged, but his kisses were a little rough and passionate as he would press you against the wall and caress your thick form and plump curves. Your face flushed every time you remembered how his strong hands felt when he held you close, and touched you in places that only you gave him permission to touch. He made you feel beautiful, and you loved every bit of it because that was enough to make you think that maybe you were beautiful.

No, you weren’t really that proud or that confident, but you liked to think you were enthusiastic enough and quirky, so that made up for it right?

You thought so.

Your friends certainly thought so every time you got excited about things you loved, such as Stranger Things, as you had been for the past couple of days. However, you weren’t so sure your boyfriend was…

He’d been even grouchier than normal, and it was probably because he was so hung-up on his results with training. Bakugou was such a perfectionist that even slight improvement just wasn’t enough for him, and you had tried to reassure him but he just scoffed you off.

“Kick some ass Katsuki! No one trains as hard as you do after all!” You gave him a thumbs-up as soon as he was called to join Izuku, Todoroki and Iida in the endurance training. “You don’t think I know that?!” He exclaimed, irked by your support but not exactly ungrateful. Bakugou was a sucker for praise, and as annoying as you were, he liked how you praised him. But he hated how you weren’t serious at all…

With how distracted you were about that damn show you love so much and the non-stop music you listened to he didn’t see you doing well when it was your turn.

He wasn’t wrong, because even right now you were kind of distracted as you watched him go out with the other guys. It looked like they were trying to see who was the fastest and whose reflexes had improved when obstacles were tossed at them.

You were excited but also awaiting the action for Stranger Things. Were Mike and Eleven still a couple going on strong? Was the Mind Flayer coming back? You didn’t know, but you couldn’t wait to find out as you started humming (F/S), one of your favorite songs.

But you gasped in glee when Bakugou and the others were done, except Bakugou didn’t look too happy. Apparently Izuku and Iida had gotten quicker, Todoroki’s reflexes also got better, and Bakugou’s speed and reflexes also improved, but hearing that his rivals (sans Iida) had gotten better and nearly caught up to him was enough to piss him off.

You clapped your hands though when you saw how angry he looked, but your smiles did nothing to quell the vexation. If anything, it just annoyed him even more, “WHOO-HOO! You. Were. AWESOME!” Even when you punctuated your words, Bakugou didn’t even give you a smirk.

“Tch…” He gave you his typical scoff as he walked past you in a huff, and you were left turning to watch him leave in concern. Honestly, you thought he was way too hard on himself sometimes. He needed to relax, you thought.

Tonight would be perfect, after all he’s seen Stranger Things and Stranger Things 2 with you and he knew the story pretty well despite claiming that it was dumb and unoriginal.

Yes, tonight was going to be great and you were excited, which was actually helping you and your quirk. Since your Aura Creation quirk relied on your emotions for you to generate aura and use it to blast people or construct it into whatever you wanted. For the most part at least, you could blast people with aura just fine, but you had been practicing constructing things with it. So far, all you could make was a ball and wings…

So when it was your turn with Kirishima, Sero and Jirou, you tried to be fast by constructing your (F/C) aura wings and you grinned widely with glee when it worked! It was working! “AHAHAHAHA~!!” You laughed cheerfully as you flew a little bit faster and passed a smiling Kirishima and Sero, even though you were kind of beating them in the speed department…

“AHHHHHHH!”

But then you screamed with widened eyes when a sudden chunk of debris came flying at you and you had to dodge it fast, only to be sent crashing down to the ground, much to the concern of your classmates.

“I’m okay.” Raising your shaking hand, you were able to clumsily stand back up as Kirishima, Sero and Jirou each laughed nervously before you all returned to your tasks. You had no idea that Bakugou bothered to watch, and you had no idea just how infuriated he was seeing your performance…

The wings were a great new skill, but you were such a fucking klutz and everything distracted you just as he thought it would. And when you didn’t even beat freaking Sero in terms of speed or reflexes, he was starting to feel a little embarrassed…

You took nothing seriously, except for all the damn music and TV shows you never EVER shut up about. All the references and dumb jokes you made were so annoying sometimes…

He couldn’t deal with that, not when he had his own training to think of. Fooling around with you and watching fucking Netflix was a huge waste of time and he wasn’t going to beat stupid Deku or IcyHot if he decided to binge-watch nine fucking hours of that damn Stranger Things with you.

Nine Hours. He could do so much in nine hours other than watch a stupid show…

4 HOURS LATER…

Bakugou wasn’t there…

Kirishima had sent you the text that he was training with Bakugou and Sero after class, and admittedly you were kind of bummed that your boyfriend was training AGAIN instead of spending time with you, but you had learned to expect that often.

You guessed you didn’t mind, because you had other friends to binge-watch it with. Hell, you even elaborately set up the 2nd floor with a bunch of snacks and some Christmas lights out of spirit for the show.

“Okay Mina… Denki… are you guys ready for it…?” You asked your two, excitable friends with a faux, serious voice.

“Yes, yes, YES!! I’m SO freaking ready for that Stranger Things love!!” Mina excitedly said as she practically bounced on the couch, sitting besides Kaminari, “It’s been a whole year! Time to see what they’re gonna do this time… now that the Mind Flayer is gone… or is he?” He asked you, kinda winking at you on purpose as you snickered and rolled your eyes. Kaminari obviously knew you were taken, he was just playing with you…

Surprisingly he enjoyed Stranger Things, as he called it a Guilty Pleasure of his because he liked the Sci-Fi stuff, while Mina was a little more unashamed of her fondness for the show, she was one of the BIGGEST Mileven shippers you’ve ever met.

“I doubt it. Shadows never disappear, they are always lingering in the darkness.” Tokoyami was as poetic as ever, even about a TV show that he was unsurprisingly into.

“Well you saw the Mind Flayer in the last episode of the 2nd season… there’s no way it’s gone…” You pointed out with a giggle, “Precisely.” He replied rather seriously, just as intrigued as you were. Tokoyami really enjoyed the 80’s horror that the show provided and the concept of an Upside Down.

“Oui, but where there is darkness, there is light~! As shown in the last two seasons~. I can’t wait to see how they pull through this season.” Aoyama was there to contradict him, and you were pleasantly surprised that he liked the show just as much as you did. He said that it was because he connected with Will, and rather liked the themes of maturity and friendship, something that you could strongly agree on.

“You said it Yuuga-bro! Oh! I’m so excited~!” You smiled wide at the blonde boy, taking a seat on the middle couch with a bar of chocolate in your hand. Not before the last member of your ‘Stranger Things Party’.

An amused chuckle made you smile and turn to face your good friend, “You’re really passionate about this show.” Shinsou was smiling at you, something not many of the others saw aside from his roguish smirks and grins.

“Yeah man! I’ve been hooked since 2016! And I’ve seen the trailers for the past couple of months and I’m just waiting to be gagged~!” You said cheerfully and patted your seat, gesturing for him to sit next to you, which he did comply.

“It’s a good show… I heard that it’s supposed to be seven in a half hours.” He noted to you as your eyes widened and you grinned widely, “Wow… okay that is high-key awesome but… seven in a half hour is almost not long as he nodded in amusement. You liked him, he was kind to you, well, you were kind to him first, but you were happy that he seemed to actually talk to you and was nice to you.

And this was despite the fact that your boyfriend didn’t like him at all, and Shinsou returned the feelings.

“C’mon (Y/N) let’s start it already I wanna see if Mileven is still going strong!!” Mina clasped her hands together, begging you to start as you laughed and smiled, “Okay, okay ya pink dork… I got it…” You said as you pressed play on the first episode to the third season you’ve all been waiting for…

THREE EPISODES LATER…

AMAZING…

You were already three episodes in and you, Shinsou Mina, Kaminari, Tokoyami and Aoyama all looked much too enthralled to even think about stopping the momentum.  

“Dude… I’m actually worried about Billy.” You said, unable to believe that you’d feel sympathetic for a more villainous character. “But he’s such a jerk… a typical male alpha dog…” Shinsou had pointed that out for you as you pouted, “I know that Hitoshi but the Mind Flayer is so much worse… he’d better learn a lesson after this. Learn to not be such an asshole...” You expressed your hope for the character’s fate.

“I feel so bad for Will…” Aoyama felt sympathetic for Will though, and everyone could actually agree with them on that. “He was so cute in his costume the poor thing!” Mina agreed with a dramatically sad expression, “I KNOW! The boys aren’t being nice to him…”

“Such is the curse of growing up… adulthood is when the heart begins to wither.” Tokoyami knew the themes well, and he spoke exactly what everyone was thinking as you nodded, flashing him the peace sign with a sad nod.

“Well they DO have girlfriends… I’d be a bit distracted too…” Kaminari spoke in defense for Mike and Lucas though, “That is true Denki, you do have a point there… but I’ve got a boyfriend and I still make time for you guys.” You pointed that out, which did make him smile, “Hmm… you know what? That’s a valid point…” He seemed to get it better now, and hoped the same for himself when he got a girlfriend to also have time for his buddies.

“And we learned an important lesson here after watching Max and El together… if a boyfriend lies to you or mistreats you…” Mina had exchanged smirks with you as you giggled, “DUMP HIS ASS!” The two of you exclaimed in unison, laughing together as the boys just watched you in amusement, “Same for you boys, if your boyfriend, girlfriend or partner mistreats you, dump their ass.” But you made sure to remind the boys as they all nodded with little smiles.

“Okay… next episode~.” You then sang-songed and let the TV play as you pressed ‘yes’ when the TV asked if you were still watching it. However, after about 20 minutes in, a door loudly slammed open and you couldn’t help but grin. You and everyone else knew exactly who that was.

Shinsou rolled his eyes though, and Aoyama looked a little frightened; they were the two of your ‘party’ that weren’t as close to Bakugou, and didn’t really like him that much. Well, Shinsou disliked Bakugou, while Aoyama was more terrified of him, and he kinda squealed and ducked his head when he saw the surly glare from the angry-looking ash-blonde.

You could tell he wasn’t happy, but it didn’t stop you from trying to cheer him up, “Katsuki~!” And you greeted him with a big hug, that he didn’t return and only growled at you when you got so close, “You’re just in time! We’re watching Stranger Things 3~. I mean yeah we’re kinda already three episodes in but we-.” Bakugou quickly cut you off though.

“I don’t want to watch that dumb show… if you’re going to suggest re-watching the other three forget it, it’s just more time to waste.” He lowly grumbled, trying to push you aside so he can just go to his room to go to bed early and wake up even earlier.

“Aww c’mon… this is the first time in a long time that we got a big break! You need to relax a little bit Atomic Blonde.” You said a little bit playfully but Bakugou wasn’t amused in the slightest, “Don’t tell me what to do Shitty Girl!”

“But we got a bunch of snacks and everything! And chocolate! I mean if you don’t want to watch then it’s okay but it’s exciting~. I can always rewatch it with you another time, but I can’t lie a LOT of cool stuff is happening with Eleven and Will and Steve and…”

Your voice was trailing off in his mind as he didn’t even really listen to you. The carefree ignorance in your tone making the rage bubble in him as he trembled and grunted lightly, gritting his teeth when you just kept on smiling with a single care in the world just talking about that fucking show and the fucking snacks…

Why the hell couldn’t you just leave him alone and get that he had a lot more important things to do?

Bakugou couldn’t take it anymore, he was so irritated and annoyed with you and you couldn’t even tell as you just kept going on and on…

“So yeah, if you want we can just see it together again another time. OH I’m so excited though, we’re on the fourth episode and I think we’re gonna see more of Max and-“

“I don’t CARE about Max! Or Eleven! Or Will! Or Steve! Or any of the goddamn demogorgons and the fucking Mind Flayer!”

He finally snapped, well, he’s always snapped but this time he sounded even angrier than normal, which you did notice and your smile slowly fell. “Okay… jeez… don’t have a barn…” You kind of pouted a little bit, crossing your arms. “I was just offering…”

“Yeah, yeah you always offer for me to waste time watching stupid shit.” He replied curtly, his tone sharp and piercing a little hole in your heart like a Needle sword. You weren’t going to just take that.

“Hey… there’s no need to insult the things I like. It’s not stupid!”

“It’s a show with literally just one kid who has superpowers and a bunch of other quirkless losers! It’s a fucking cliché!”

“It’s still a good show! AND you’re forgetting about the interdimensional monsters and evil humans!”

“OH MY GOD WHO GIVES A SHIT?!”

“I DO! IT’S ONE OF MY FAVORITE SHOWS AND YOU’RE PISSING ALL OVER IT!!”

“I’LL PISS ON IT IF I WANT TO!!”

The atmosphere went from fun to extremely tense as Mina watched in concern and wasn’t sure if she should try to break up the fight since you and Bakugou looked really angry. Kaminari on the other hand, was just staring at his feet and trying to block out the loud shouting, glancing every now and then at the others. Tokoyami sighed and closed his eyes, waiting patiently and hoping that the two of you would stop fighting because it was making him a LITTLE uncomfortable.

Aoyama was very scared now, slowly getting up and entrenching himself in a little cushion fort he made on the couch to try and ignore the screaming from you and Bakugou. Shinsou saw this, and he shook his head in frustration as glared at Bakugou in annoyance.

It was kind of his first party ever and Bakugou was ruining it…

“UGH! You work too much Katsuki! I’m fine if you don’t want to watch Stranger Things I mean it’s fine if you don’t like it but you really should relax some more! And I can be with you! Wouldn’t that be fun?” You tried distilling the argument though, especially when you saw that it was making your friends uncomfortable. You could feel their auras and there was fear, discomfort and anger; you didn’t want to feel that anymore, you wanted to make them happy…

“I don’t need you to tell me to fucking relax! What do you even know about fun?! All you ever do for ‘fun’ is sit on your fatass shoving those godawful sweets in your mouth and watching shitty TV you pig!

Your mouth hung open the second he said the real F word, but it wasn’t you who gasped in horror. It was Kaminari, Mina and Aoyama each gasping with their mouths agape. Kaminari looked a mix of shocked (pun intended) and horrified as did Mina, but she was also extremely appalled with her friend, and Aoyama’s eyes went wide and he covered his mouth at such an insult…

Even the more stoic Tokoyami and Shinsou couldn’t hide their shock, although Tokoyami was silent he did cross his arms and give Bakugou a very disappointed look along with Shinsou, who was shaking his head with a tranquil, but furious glower. He knew how self-conscious you were about your figure and weight so, and although he knew that Bakugou was by nature, an asshole, this was pretty low…

You felt like you were going in shock. Just that one single word attacked you, straight into the chest and piercing your heart with a burst of hurt. Bakugou’s called you many things, usually empty insults, but he never commented on your weight (much) and never attacked you about it either.  

This time though, you felt very attacked as you slowly closed your mouth into a frown, lowering your head as you averted your eyes from your boyfriend.

Bakugou seemed to notice, and he just registered what he just said to his girlfriend. The things that assholes from school always called you and defended you from, the things he swore that he would never, EVER call you. He knew he fucked up this time as soon as he saw your lip quivering and your (E/C) eyes watering, and he could literally feel the anger radiating from you as your (H/C) started flowing in response with your quirk.

“(Y/N)…”

Before he could say something, you picked up your head to glare right at him, inhaling and exhaling deeply through your nose. Fury and hurt swirled in your eyes that Bakugou could very clearly see and it honestly shocked him.

Were you going to smack him? Or kick him where it hurts?

“I dump your ass!”

You took a hint from Eleven, and right then and there you decided to break it off with your boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend. Whose eyes instantly widened the second he heard that, confusion and shock evident in his features.

No…

“WHAT?!”

He shouted even louder than before, his eyes narrowing in anger again as you turned away, vexed and very upset. “You heard me. I. DUMP. YOUR. ASS!” You enunciated the words slowly and deliberately to annoy him and he was extremely indignant and appalled that you were… seriously breaking up with him?! HIM?!

“You’re dumping me?!”

“What the fuck do you think I said it two fucking times!!” Trembling with vexed distress you didn’t even realize that you were raising your voice and swearing now that your emotions had been triggered and they just came pouring out.

“You’re not seriously breaking up with me over a fucking insult?!” Bakugou’s pride started talking for him though, because he refused to let you bruise his ego by dumping HIM. 

“Yes I am Katsuki, and that’s not the only reason... It’s because you’re also selfish and mean! You’re the worst boyfriend ever and I’ve put up with your shit plenty of times but this is just WAY TOO FUCKING MUCH! What you said is just too fucking much for me to even put up with, you’ve completely broken me down I feel like shit and I’ve HAD it and I’m dumping your ass!” You were full-on shouting, not letting Bakugou get a single word in as the tears started to stream down your face, and all you could do was try to wipe them away as fast as possible as you held back the cries itching in your throat.

While Bakugou was conflicted, he was extremely pissed off and still horrified that you were breaking up with him and his pride was seriously suffering, but seeing you so upset and knowing that HE caused it was making him feel so guilty on top of all the ire and selfish pride.

“I didn’t even mean it (Y/N)! Don’t be so damn sensitive!”

“I’d like to leave now… you ruined my party and I’d just really, really like to fucking leave now…” You didn’t listen to him, you weren’t going to anymore. Bakugou’s said and done a lot of things, but this was the last straw and there was nothing that could heal the hurt crushing you from the inside out. You thought he loved you, because he never once said anything about your weight. Bakugou held you as if he liked your chubby form, but today just that insult alone opened your eyes to how he must have actually felt about you, and now you felt even uglier than you already felt before.

So you turned away to leave the common room, but Bakugou wasn’t going to let you go without a talk, and he grabbed your hand in an attempt to make you stop, “(Y/N) don’t just fucking leave like that!” You harshly yanked your hand back though with a tearful glare. “Leave me alone Katsuki!” You took off running the second you were freed, crying the whole run to your dorm room and ignoring Bakugou calling out for you as he followed you.

“(Y/N) DAMMIT!!”

You shut your door and locked it the second you got inside, sniffling and starting to sob at the realization that you broke up with your boyfriend, but for good reason. He banged on your door but you weren’t going to let him in at all, and you didn’t even want to see his face. Bakugou was so damn persistent that you quickly figured out that he wouldn’t leave you alone so you had another idea…

“Open this damn door or I’ll break it down myself!”

He didn’t want to admit it, but he felt horrible, and his threats were completely empty because now he just panicking. This couldn’t be over, he wouldn’t let it end like this. But when you weren’t answering or opening the door, he was actually getting pretty concerned, “(Y/N) I’m serious! Open the door!!” He sounded angry, but he was more worried than anything. And when you didn’t answer for another 5 minutes, he reacted fast by using all of his strength and ramming into the door and forced it open.

There you were with your window open, spreading your aura wings that were now radiating with a cloudy shade of red that Bakugou could tell was because of your anger. Your auras changed color depending on your mood, and you were furious, but hurt…

“What are you doing?! ARE YOU CRAZY?!” He screamed, taking the first step to try and grab your hand but you already made the leap, falling downwards fast before your wings took flight and you glided past the windows with tears in your eyes as you took a turn to be out of your ex’s sight.

Bakugou watched you fly away with wide eyes full of disbelief, awe and regret. He didn’t even see his disappointed classmates still there and just watching with unhappy and slightly angry looks as Shinsou turned off the TV. “Party’s cancelled.” He said to the others lowly, but neither of them really complained. The whole thing was ruined…

“Good. We can’t watch the rest without (Y/N).” Tokoyami sighed in agreement as he headed off to his own dorm-room, really hoping that you were okay because he saw how hurt you were and felt so bad for you, “I hope she’s okay…” Aoyama quietly mumbled, for all that he’s seen you, he had never seen you so upset like that.

“She will be…” Kaminari sounded oddly serious, fully aware that you weren’t okay, but had a feeling that you’ll eventually be okay. “I know…” Mina was really sad, but she didn’t follow the guys, she was going to secretly go outside and see if you were still out there so she can comfort you somehow.

When they walked past him, Bakugou didn’t even care because he was still too much in shock over the shambles that was now his relationship with you, but he felt someone’s eyes coldly leering at him.

“You really did it now Bakugou.”

Shinsou knew Bakugou was stronger, but wasn’t exactly afraid of him right now after what he just did to you. “You’ve always been a jerk, but after all the shitty things you’ve done, you finally crossed the line.” His voice was chilly as the ash-blonde’s eyes simmered with such fury that would have terrified anyone, “This is none of your fucking business Eye-Bags!!” He raised one sparkling hand, growling as he prepared to blast this asshole away, but Shinsou paid him no mind and instead just walked ahead of him to go to his new dorm-room.

“Don’t fucking walk away from me! You want to pick a fight with me you brainwashing bastard?! Then fight!” He was itching for a fight, and ready to take out his new hurricane of anger, frustration, denial and guilt that was raging inside on this condescending prick. 

“No.” Shinsou replied neutrally and calmly despite his own distilled anger as he left the pissed off blonde alone to have his meltdown by himself.

Bakugou wanted to provoke him, punch him in the face and beat him to a bloody pulp but the regret clutching onto his heart with it’s claws rooted him to the spot as he could only grunt and snarl angrily.

“Dammit! Dammit, Dammit, DAMMIT!!” He screamed as he stormed out of the building in vain to look for you, shouting and calling your name over and over again, “(Y/N)! (Y/N)!! (Y/N)!!”

Part of him knew that he was just kidding himself, because he heard your words clearly and knew that your answer was final, but his fucking pride got in the way and just wouldn’t let him acknowledge that it was over. And that you dumped his ass, because of something he did, and that this time you weren’t going to forgive him. God he really, really hoped you would but he knew that you weren’t going to do that so easily this time.

Grabbing his hair he let out another infuriated scream, unable to believe that he said those things to his own girlfriend. He loved how weird you were, and your figure, why the fuck did he call you fat and a pig? Why...?

He didn’t know why, but he knew one thing that was for sure…

He fucked up. Big time. 

PART 2: https://ice-cream-kitsunegirl.tumblr.com/post/186833600249/thank-you-all-might

PART 3: https://ice-cream-kitsunegirl.tumblr.com/post/188898319229/i-needed-to-lose-you-to-love-me-bakugou-katsuki-x

[searchforthescars]

The 100 s6?? Haven’t seen your take yet

hhhhhhhhh oKay saddle up kids I had A Time with this

DISCLAIMER: THESE ARE ALL MY OPINIONS. ANYONE ATTACKING ME FOR THESE (and pls note that “attacking” and “respectfully disagreeing in the name of discourse or putting your two cents in” are different and I will definitely entertain the second one) WILL BE BLOCKED AND DELETED

it’s all under the cut bc Spoilers

Here's the thing: I'm glad they're taking advantage of the new setting to introduce a creepy-cool sci-fi element that I lowkey missed in this show. It's less teen-drama-y and more post-apocalyptic-moral-dilemma-y, and I like that a lot.

HOWEVER, I would like it a lot more if we had some quality character development to go along with this healthy main course of plot. I don't like storytelling where the plot happens to the characters; I like seeing the characters both react to the circumstances of Life as the plot dictates, but also making decisions that impact the plot. Like real life, these actions and events go both ways.

I feel as though we're watching many of our characters kind of waste away in the background for the sake of what is a really good plot and premise on its face, but needs a strong set of emotional performances to keep it going. I'm disappointed at the lack of character interaction, especially when it comes to dealing with the host of sins that were committed before everyone went into cryo. I understand that the characters may not have even had time to process everything given the intensity of the current conflict, but SHOW ME THAT!

On that vein, they've done a really poor job of internal conflict continuity. Murphy has one (1) crisis about dying and apparently being shown hell, and that's it. That's not something that leaves you easily, especially not for someone like Murphy who already carries around a lot of guilt. However, we're not shown that - we see him manipulating Josephine to get the immortality chips, but his actions don't seem to be motivated by that Fear Of Hell - they just seem to be happening because the script wills it so.

I'm not taking shots at Richard or any of the other actors - I think they're all doing an awesome job with what they're given. I just feel like, unlike previous seasons, we were thrust straight into the action instead of letting it build slowly. I think they could've done incredible things with both character development and plot if they had stretched all this out over one and a half or two seasons. In past seasons, we've always started off on the heels of a rising conflict from the previous season, but this time, we're starting fresh, and I don't think that was handled well.

On a final (negative) note, (and then I have some positive stuff), I'm a little tired of the endless trope of "let's have one episode per season that feeds Clarke's martyr complex and endears Poor Little Her to the audience." This is the thing: I don't particularly care for Clarke. It's not because I'm a Becho shipper (although I am). It's because - IN MY OPINION DONT NO ONE COME FOR ME OK - Clarke has been taken from a moral character Trying Her Best to do the right thing as a child-slash-new adult thrust into a world of harsh extremes with no guidance whatsoever to someone with a savior complex who uses the same excuse over and over to justify acting alone even though, at this point, help is RIGHT THERE. I was happy when she apologized to Raven at the beginning of s6, but I wasn't happy that she and the narrative both then turned around and tried to justify why Poor Baby Isn't Actually Such A Bad Person After All.

Clarke has done bad things. Periodt. No ifs, ands or buts. She, like Octavia, Abby, Indra, Lexa, Bellamy, Kane, Miller, etc. has messed up. Periodt. No ifs, ands or buts. That's part of what this show is about, and it's why I love it - I love moral greyness and that endless battle between our better angels and what we feel we need to do to stay alive. It's why I love this genre.

HOWEVER, while the narrative continuously gives Clarke a pass because she justifies that she was doing it all "for her people," Octavia, Indra, Lexa, Titus, Luna, heck, even Lincoln and Monty, don't get those same passes. They're left to carry their own guilt while also getting half-hearted reassurances from the people around then and the narrative. Meanwhile, we're all expected by the storytellers to feel sorry for Clarke because she gives insincere apologies and keeps coming back to "I did it for my people oh poor me I'm carrying your sins for you." No one asked her to do that.

Okay, rant over. I also want to give a positive nod to Marie and Ivana's acting; those two are playing off one another so well and, while I don't like Marie as a person, she is really embodying the role of a traumatized former leader who believes she's so far gone death is the only way to save her soul. Likewise, Ivana is doing a great job of taking her tough-as-nails, untouchable, snarky character and showing a softer side that doesn't detract from her power in a situation, but rather adds to her dynamic with Octavia. Last season, there's no way I could've seen her as a mother. Now I can.

[shurisneakers]

espresso [4]

Summary: In which your best friend’s brother begins to set you up on dates when you mention that you haven’t been in a relationship in years, but things don’t go as expected.

Warning: swearing, dating, anger issues

A/N: this is my entry for the beautiful @bithors writing challenge!

hey hey big shoutout to @samingtonwilson because every time she betas this and sends me the revised copy im like!!!! a QUEEN!!!! holy shit!!!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous part- Part 3 || Espresso Masterlist

“No. Fucking. Way.”

“Yes fucking way! Ain’t she beautiful?” Bucky beamed, running his hands gingerly over the door of his new ride. An old muscle car, a sleek black with a few scratches and dents, but proudly glinting in the moonlight.

You let out a low whistle, glancing up at Bucky as you crouched beside the car for a better look. “Gorgeous. She got a name?”

“I was debatin’ Grace, but now I’m thinkin’ she’s more of an April. What do you think?”

You would have teased him, but this was genuinely the happiest you’d seen him in a long time. Alight eyes were crinkled at the corners and his grin was one of the largest you’d ever seen, and heck, you wondered why he couldn’t be like this more often.

“Shits, that’s perfect.”

You sent him a pair of finger-guns when he opened the door for you and he rolled his eyes in feigned exasperation, smile still stretched over his lips.

In an empty threat, he replied, “Say shit one more time in plural and you’re walking there on your own.”

“Well, God forbid a girl has funs,” you joked only to be met with a groan of annoyance. “Oh, calm down.”

Once in the car, you immediately went to set your feet on the dashboard, legs crossed at the ankle, but received a deadly glare. You slowly lowered your feet, never breaking eye contact with him even as your features twisted in playful fear.

As you tugged your seatbelt on, you asked, “When’d you get her?”

“Two days ago. Couldn’t afford the payments on the other one. Sold it to some frat guys ages ago and took whatever was left after payin’ off the bank to get this one.” He sighed contentedly as he turned the key in the ignition so the engine roared to life. “DMV shit got delayed. She’s probably, like, a third-hand vehicle and needs the upholstery totally ripped up and replaced– but I think she’s pretty great.”

With a soft sound of disagreement, you shook your head. “She’s a ten out of ten, no need for anything. I’m happy for you.”

You tucked your hands behind your head, leaning back into the worn out leather seats which had turned soft over years of use, and a soft sigh of comfort left your lips to prove your point.

“How are your classes going?” he asked after a moment, still smiling softly at your previous statement.

“Getting fingered by Wolverine would be less painful,” you replied casually so Bucky choked and coughed on an inhale. You laughed quietly. “How’s engineering going?”

The indicator made a clicking noise you thought must have sounded less out of tune years ago as he took a left turn. “Shitty. Fuckin’ hate it.”

Eyebrows furrowed, you tilted your head with an agape mouth. “Shitty? Two days ago it was the shit, you said you loved it, that you elected to major in it.”

He gave you a tight-lipped smile and half a shrug and, immediately, you knew something was wrong. While you and Bucky didn’t often discuss your respective career choices and plans for the future, each time you did manage a conversation adjacent, he’d mentioned it was something he’d wanted to do– hell, had he not mentioned it, the number of shitty jokes and puns he made in its reference would have convinced you alone.

“Didn’t want to at first. But Becca advertised wanting to go into journalism all throughout high school and it’s not– it’s not a traditionally lucrative job, at least for the first few years.” He shrugged again, this time in a bit of insecurity, nervousness, but his eyes remained trained on the road. “Figured one of us should be able to embrace that nontraditional job so I picked up something more secure. Something secure because things at home are, you know…”

He had trailed off, but you knew what he meant. Money was a sensitive topic for both, Rebecca and Bucky and, although they could never be ashamed of their family, their pride kept them from asking for help from you despite your continued offering.

“Anyway, she ended up choosing poli-sci for law school for the same reason, so that was pretty ironic,” he grinned and you could see it didn’t reach his eyes, maybe hurting his cheeks as much as it hurt you just to see it.

You remained silent and your teeth wreaked havoc on your lower lip as he continued, “Can’t do anything about it now, though. But, if I could, I’d change my choices in an instant.”

Toying with your fingers in your lap, you asked, “What would you major in instead?”

“I don’t know, it’s kind of stupid really–“

“Didn’t you wanna write?” you added softly, eliciting a look of surprise from him.

He glanced at you quickly. “How’d you know?”

“You were always writing in high school. I saw you with your little notebook every lunch, Bucky,” you laughed, images of an acne-covered Bucky with shoulder-length hair bent over a tiny journal, scribbling for the life of him.

He groaned in embarrassment, a light pink dusting over his cheeks. “I can’t believe you noticed that, Christ. The emo phase was strong.”

“Well, if it helps, I think you’d be a kick-ass writer. I’d be first in line to buy your book. Wouldn’t even sell it on eBay after getting you to sign it.”

He fell silent at that, choosing to bite his lip in place of a response. You’d begun to wonder if you’d said something wrong when he whispered, “Thanks, Mario.”

You didn’t say much more, only turning to look out the window. It wasn’t too long before you heard him chuckle to himself but before you could ask him what he was laughing about, he spoke up, “This is so sad. Alexa, play Despacito.”

You snorted. Fuckin’ dork.

Bucky was leaned against the door of his car as he waited with you until your date for the evening arrived, keeping you engrossed in the utterly ridiculous nonsense you both spoke about.

“I’m just saying, if you made coffee with Gatorade and injected it into your bloodstream, you’re basically God. Like, who the fuck would need heroin then?” you tried explaining for the fifth time, unable to keep the smile off your face. You had your arms crossed over your chest in an effort to keep yourself warm whilst Bucky’s hands were shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants.

“Gatorade is for cowards, we use only Red Bull in this holy house– it actually does something. How about if you mixed vodka, ground espresso beans, and protein powder, then snorted it–”

You clicked your tongue. “Intravenous is more effective–”

“Didn’t realize the offer of a date included you, James.”

In a bit of a laborious task, you looked away from Bucky to the guy who came to a stop before you. Dark hair gelled back and darkness which wasn’t hidden by his glasses surrounding deep hazel eyes, he wore a simple black sweater over a pale blue t-shirt. “But I’m not complaining. Love me some three-way action.”

“Tony,” Bucky sighed, smiling nonetheless. “This is–“

“Mario? I figured.” Tony flashed a quick smile at you.

Immediately you could hear loud sniggering from beside you, making you spin to face him in annoyance. “You have got to stop doing that! What the fuck?” you exclaimed, punching a laughing Bucky on the shoulder as he feebly tried to defend himself.

“My name’s Y/N, not Mario,” you stated to clear the confusion, rolling your eyes at Bucky who burst out laughing again, clearly showing no remorse.

He looked from his watch to you, not fazed by your exchange with Bucky. “Ah, I see. Well, shall we get going? Game’s about to start.”

“See ya later, Mario. Have a good time, guys.” Bucky ruffled your hair as you tried to swat his hand away, taking a step towards Tony as he looked at you with a small smile on his face. “I’ll be on the other side of the court if you need me.”

“D’you want to get some food during halftime or before the first quarter?” Tony asked once Bucky waved a goodbye and jogged to join his friends.

“Halftime sounds good, I think the game’s about to start,” you answered, sending him a half smile.

He only nodded and adjusted his glasses, beckoning for you to join him.

You both made small talk and it turned out he wasn’t nearly half as bad as Peter. He rarely spoke of himself and only mentioned he would be looking for a sustainable source of energy in the future, something about wanting to lessen the environmental burden of current energy dependencies.

It started out well enough, the both of you commenting on the players who you knew. You waved at Sam from your place on the bleachers and he shot you a wink in response

“Sam’s starting tonight and it’s against the Gotham Jokers. S’why Bucky and everyone else is here,” you explained, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees.

“Wilson? Number seven? He’s your friend?” Tony asked, squinting at the ball as it was tossed into the air, soon taken by one of the Jokers.

You didn’t bother sparing him a glance as you watched Sam quickly steal the ball back and passing it to Rhodey. “Yeah. Why d’you sound so surprised?”

“Think he’s a bit overrated, that’s all,” Tony mumbled, making you reel back and stare at him disbelievingly. “Got the whole school worshipping the ground he walks on.”

“Captain of the team, MVP last season. He got scholarships to three different prestigious universities, too,” you recited, jumping to your feet as Sam made a shot from the three point line, the ball going in effortlessly with a swish. You looked over your shoulder to raise an eyebrow at Tony, “Still think he’s overrated?”

He only shrugged. “Guess not.”

The next few minutes flew by quickly, Tony progressively getting more invested in the game as it went on. He occasionally let out a cheer when you did, but other than that, he was more observant than anything.

But just as the Jokers were about to pass the ball, Tony jumped to his feet with a scowl, “Double dribble! Double fucking dribble! He stopped! What the fuck, why isn’t anyone calling that out?”

“Tony, he didn’t hold it. There was no double dribble,” you urged as the people surrounding you turned to glare at you both.

“Jesus fuck, this entire crowd is ignorant. Uneducated,” he stated angrily, sitting down in a huff.

You patted him on the back in attempted consolation, but he only ignored you, continuing to glower ahead.

Everything was fine and dandy until the Jokers’ defense pushed one of your team’s players when the referee wasn’t watching. In Tony’s defense, everybody reacted loudly to that. But no one had the passion Tony had when he leapt up like a fucking Jack in the Box, fists thrown in the air. “What the fuck!?” he screamed to no one in particular.

“Yeah, what the fuck!?” you echoed, cupping your hands around your mouth.

“You fucking blind ass, stupid piece of shit, punkass bitch!” he raged, pupils dilated and eyebrows furrowed.

“Okay, never mind.” You promptly sat down, trying to pull Tony with you but he shook you off fervently. You thought he resembled the fucking Tasmanian Devil from Looney Toons.

“That was a foul! Why don’t you use your fucking whistle, you trick ass little bitch?! Try blowing something other than your own dick for once!” he screamed at the referee, shaking his arms around wildly.

“Jesus Christ,” you whispered, putting your head in your hands as he ranted on and on for another ten seconds before finally sitting down, cursing steadily to himself.

When your team made an effortless basket, you prayed it would calm Tony down. And to some extent it did work and he kept quiet until the first quarter was up, only rolling his eyes when people turned to look at him.

Ignoring them from that moment on, he tilted his head as he watched Sam send a wink to a girl who only rolled her eyes playfully in response. “Who’s that?”

“Sam.”

“I know that’s Sam, I’m asking who the girl is.”

“Sam’s girlfriend, Sam,” you replied as you laughed at his expression of confusion.

“Sam has a girlfriend… named Sam?” You nodded as he sighed, smiling despite himself. “Fuck, what would their couple name be?”

“Well, they’re Sam and Sam. Or as I like to call them,” you dropped your voice as he raised an amused eyebrow, “Sam.”

“That’s so fucking creative, how did you ever think of that name?” he asked, a smile on his face that made him look ten times less stressed than he’d been mere moments ago.

You actually didn’t mind Tony at that moment. You might have even considered him to be fun.

That was until the next quarter started and the referee called a foul on Sam for apparently no reason and Tony was back on his feet, face red like one of those ugly Angry Birds. He then started in a shrieking voice, “Oh, so now you want to blow that whistle, you piece of utter shi–“

Tony gave you a ride back to your apartment after the game which had ended much later than you thought it would. You knew Bucky had left after the third quarter when he sent you a text saying he needed to get up early for his shift, but he asked you to call him when you got home safe.

You wondered if he was still awake but, as you’d promised, you called him the moment you crossed the building threshold.

“Hello?” his rasped in an infinitely exhausted voice– you instantly regretted calling him.

“Hey, fuck, sorry. I didn’t think you’d be asleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, get some rest,” you said hurriedly, guilt seeping through your words.

“No, no, it’s fine,” he paused and you could hear him yawn despite the muffling over the line. “Is everything fine, baby?”

“Yeah everything’s– wait, what did you just call me?” you asked as you bit your tongue and your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

The silence you were met with was quickly followed by a string of curses, presumably since he perceived what he’d said. His voice was clearer as he replied, “Shit. Sorry, Mario. It just slipped out. I’m, like, half dead. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah. Just called to talk about the king of anger paralysis, clone of Charlie Sheen, Tasmanian Devil embodiment–”

Bucky cut you off with a sigh. “Tony?”

“Oh, yes. Wanna hear all about my super great time with dear Squidward or should I save it for tomorrow?” you asked as you jogged up the stairs to your apartment.

You could hear rustling on the other end before he yawned once again, saying lightly, “I’m ready. Go on for as long as you want.”

“It all started when he called the referee a ‘fucking blind ass, stupid piece of shit, punkass bitch.’”

Bucky sighed. “Oh, shits.”

PART 5

TAGLISTS ARE CLOSED

[tarithenurse]

Space Nurse 5/?

Fandom(s): Men in Black & MCU! Pairing: (Wait and see) x fem!reader Contents: Probably some cussing and slight bit of angsting. A/N: switching from 1st person PoV in the diary, we now get to enjoy some 2nd pers PoV “live action”! Leave me an ask or reblog to be added to the tag list...even if my writing will be slowing down considerably now that I have to prep for last internship’s exam.

From Nightingale to Sci-Fi

You’re unable to finish the breakfast due to the nauseating anticipation of what’s to come. Good thing you’ll be tending humans the first while, at least their physiology isn’t new to you. Nooo, only all the things they can suffer from in their line of work! You’re far from rested after having spent the entire night studying alien parasites and whatnot. It explains the frequent physicals they need to go through.

Abandoning your futile attempts at finishing the yoghurt with muesli, you stash the tray in the rack and turn around to head off only to nearly slam into the solid shape dressed in a black suit with matching tie which seems to soften and lighten his skin. Looking up into the smiling face of agent Jay, you gravity that tries to pull you stumbling backwards, minimizing the movement to a soft sway.

“Easy there, newbie,” Jay grins as he slips an arm around your waist to steady you, “didn’t mean to scare ya’.”

Slinking out of his steady hold (and tearing your gaze away from his endless eyes), it’s easy enough to deny his claim and if he doesn’t believe you…well at least he doesn’t say it.

“Spend most mornings trying to sneak up on…newbies?” The words fall testily over your lips.

When Jay smirks it makes his feathery moustache tremble. “Nah, only the one’s I’ve been told to assess.”

The two of you’ve started walking and you vaguely recognize the path that leads to the locker room. He’s a relatively tall man, at least compared to yourself and you’re not exactly the tiniest person. Even so, there’s nothing unsettling about walking next to him because nothing about his person carries the air of the other cold and anonymous agents you’ve encountered so far.

“There’ll be one from either bureau evaluatin’ ya work and skills every day. I’ve been tasked to represent Men in Black. Doctor Cho was supposed to be the delegation from Shield and –“

“Wait.” Pausing briefly to look at the friendly face to make sure you didn’t mishear. “There’re two fractions at play?”

By the time Jay finishes explaining about Strategic Homeland-something-or-other and Men in Black, your mind’s fuzzy with semi-political history. Your new acquaintance isn’t clear on who knew about the extra-terrestrials first, but it’s apparent that MiB have specialized on the field and it was a director of SHIELD, a guy called Fury, that arranged for a meeting to build a cooperation. One day, rumour goes, he was sitting in the office of “Alpha”, the chief of Jay’s organisation.

“So…I’m not actually part of neither Men in Black or SHIELD?” Pulling out a set of scrubs from an automated dispenser, you continue into the locker room.

Maybe he doesn’t notice, or he doesn’t care, because he follows dutifully. “Nah, durin’ the trial period y’are in neutral territory. Once assessed, we decide which agency ya’ll fit with, ya know…skills, temper, shit like tha’.”

“Don’t I have a say in it?” you ask, brows raised although he can’t see it because you’ve got the back to him and your head halfway into your locker.

Kicking off shoes, there’s no sign the man will leave, and you decide to change while he keeps talking.

“Ya want a say in – oh okay, we’re doin’ that!” You hear him shuffle about and a glance verifies that he’s turned away. “It’s not that I mind, ya see. Nothin’ wrong with…with…ahm…” The shadows of flailing hands doesn’t provide him with the needed vocabulary. “Aaaanyways! So…erm…well if ya got any preferences, we’ll be happy to hear ‘em.”

The scrubs from the hospital back home used to be white, maybe with navy leggings depending on the model, so it looks odd to you with the pastel yellow. I’m like an Easter chicken! Baggy pants and unshapely t-shirt, at least both have huge pockets for pens, notebooks with charts and vitals, and much more that you’ve come to learn is handy to have nearby during a shift. Pushing the locker-door shut with a dull clang, you straighten up and breathes in deeply in the hope that it’ll steady the nerves once and for all.

“Let’s do this.”

…

With doctor Helen Cho gone one of the people responsible for your introduction (though apparently only for a little while) is a young SHIELD-scientist although her expertise lies in biochemistry, making her less of an obvious choice to work in the infirmary in much the same way Helen’s focus on genetics does. But doctor Simmons in kind and brilliant, and she willingly explains that most of the doctors at this facility aren’t “ordinary” doctors due to the special needs any disease or injury related to extra-terrestrials require. As such, it’s up to you and the handful of other nurses to cover the gap between the professions.

No pressure. Sure, you’ve done your fair share of stiches and cleaning wounds...but you’re no surgeon, of course, and as your mind lists all the manners your expertise can be insufficient you feel your heart fall. Even though you’d been surprised to be offered this job (and since then shocked to find out what it entails), you don’t want to be deemed unworthy. Damnit, you bicker at yourself, if I gotta leave it’ll be me walking out as a protest.

…

You don’t leave that day. Instead, the time is spend doing regular checkups and collecting blood and urine samples from the many (human) employees that have been called in in advance. Some of the equipment might be fancier than at your old job, but the procedures are perfectly familiar, putting you at each and freeing your mind to make small talk with the military personnel which apparently are being checked these days.

A few of the faces are recognizable from the hallways or the cafeteria, there’s even a set of twins (whom you’ve assumed was actually just one very busy guy) that recognizes you from the gym. Red hair and brown eyes equally aflame with joy barely able to mask a glimmer of mischief when they each in turn offer you to join them for training or company at meal time. After seeing the second out, you take the liberty of noting down their names just in case you take them up on their offer.

And so, the day passes surprisingly quickly with you in one room together with the “patients” and agent Jay and doctor Simmons, the two people who has a power over your future, in the lab except when they decide to check up on you or stop by to give you a message. No one joins you for lunch, and by the time the day ends, you’re thankful that neither of the two leaves with you even if it means walking the halls alone.

…

You’ve had an hours rest before needing to be ready for the daily torture at the hands of the trio in charge of your training. Dragging your sorry ass and buzzing mind to the gym, getting insulted and yelled at is the last thing you feel like because even if the day technically speaking has been simple, getting used to a new work place is taking its toll mentally.

Dropping the little towel and water bottle in the treadmill’s holders, you know the first part of the training session you’ll be left mostly alone as long as you don’t run too slow. A few beeps with the buttons starts the preprogrammed, torturous, cardio workout.

15 minutes in, and your lungs are burning as though someone’s filled them with acid, forcing your body to work on anaerobic metabolism and sheer stubbornness. Breathe in while left-right-left, breathe out while right-left-right. On and on, the mantra drones while the empty gaze stays fixed on the barren wall at the other side of the room. Just a…bit more. You know you’re lying to yourself, but it’s easier to handle one more minute at a time than all 15 at once.

By the time the machine slows to a halt, some unknown deity must have taken pity on you to prevent your legs from giving out under you. Wiping the sweat away with the little towel (and stifling a groan of discouragement), the only goal is to drag out the time before one of the three buddies turns their attention to you.

“Hey, [Y/N]. Right?”

The cheery voice right behind you makes you snap around so fast you nearly trip yourself, and four hands shoot out to steady you. What was their names again?

“Woops,” the other twin smiles (or maybe it’s the same that spoke before), “didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Heh. Nono, you didn’t,” you lie with a half-hearted smile, “I was just erm…mentally far away.”

The one you think might be Sean looks solemnly around the boring gym. The place is styled á la minimalist institution with once-white concrete walls and linoleum in some uncanny greenish hue that looks more like mold than anything you ought to have indoors.

“Next time…please bring me along.” The sigh would seem honest if it wasn’t for the twinkle in the brown eyes.

“Oï!” Of course, his brother (possibly named Ian, depending on who’s who) isn’t about to miss out on anything as he elbows his way closer, sending maybe-Sean slightly off balance. “Anything particular in mind? Otherwise I’ll show you the good places around here, just say the word!”

Their enthusiasm and smiles are contagious, rekindling a happiness that has otherwise been dampened since you left home. You’re just about to answer, accepting the offer in the need of having some sort of friends in this foreign place, when Costa sidles over with a brow arched in disapproval. Clad in shorts and a sports bra, showing almost all of her toned body, you’re reminded of the inferior status thrust upon you – and for obvious reasons when it comes to physical prowess. If it was only that, at least. But no. Of course, this warrior-lady somehow manages to look gorgeous and be smart too, and a pang of mixed emotions in your chest prompts you to look away.

“What’ve we got here?” The slightly nasal Caribbean dialect is honeyed. Too honeyed. “The havoc-twins are trying to sabotage my recruit?”

“Ma’am, no, ma’am.” Both guys’ drain in the split second it takes before they answer in unison.

Smoldering eyes turn frosty, freezing the guys and you to the spot. “Good. I won’t tolerate anything but perfection, and if you mess with my work, I’ll make you regret it. We clear?!”

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!” You bite your tongue not to answer with Sean and Ian.

“You can have her when I’m done.” Costa’s words sends a new wave of heat to your cheeks for no reason you should be thinking of. “Now move.”

Watching the twins scurry off, you wait silently for the punishing rant that must be brewing for you.

Nothing.

No harsh words or degrading comments slip Costa’s lips while she instructs you on the use of some equipment meant to exercise arms and chest. Oh no, her punishment is way more refined, much crueler. From one machine to the next, she pushes you beyond the limits you thought you had in a gruelling manner where raw strength and endurance are brought to the test until you literally pass out, losing your grip on an elastic cord as you slump unto the floor. Weather it’s the sharp whip against your face from the equipment or the impact with the linoleum that wakes you, well that’s impossible to tell. Either way, it’s the burning humiliation that hurts the most as you try to focus on the face of your tormentor.

[marshmallow-phd]

The Experiments

Genre: Sci-Fi, Thriller, Experiment AU

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Exo (????)

Summary: You were a med school graduate who just wanted to help research cures for the world. Instead, what you got was a dream job at EXO Applied Sciences. That is, until you discover the secrets of Level Sixty-Six and the nine inhabitants that are stored down there….

Warning: none

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I 15 I 16 I 17 I 18 I 19 I 20 I 21 I 22 I 23 I Final

Heeding Luhan’s advice, you implemented an arm’s length away rule with the boys. You just didn’t tell them about it.

Often you would sidestep or inch away while trying not to be noticeable. Unfortunately, you were about as subtle as the town crier. Furrowed eyebrows and confused looks were thrown your way at your actions, but you left them unanswered.

It’d been about four days since your new guest’s arrival. Sehun practically refused to leave Luhan’s side, asking all kinds of questions about the outside world and what it would be like for all of them to live among normal people. Unfortunately, Luhan didn’t have too many answers as he volunteered to stay at the rehabilitation center and help others transition. He often ventured out for small errands or to get fresh air, but he didn’t know what exactly an “ordinary life” consisted of.

To your own dissatisfaction, Luhan didn’t have anymore information on who was ordering and paying for the experimentation of super soldiers than Marcus did. Whoever was in charge of discovering that information was not passing it on to everyone else involved.

It was frustrating. Your life revolved around getting answers. That’s what research was all about: getting answers. But here you were, no real data, no possible hypothesis, no results. You didn’t know where to start.

“Hey, (y/n)?”

Sighing, you lowered your book to find Baekhyun standing at your feet on the other end of the couch in nothing but a towel.

You nearly fell off of your seat. “Holy crap, Baekhyun! What are you doing?”

He pouted. “I was going to take a shower, but there’s no hot water.”

Closing your book after dog-earing the page, you shifted up to a sitting position. “I’m sure it just needs to replenish from the previous shower if you give it some time.”

Shaking his head, Baekhyun held onto the top of his only covering. “I asked around. No one else has taken a shower yet today. I let it run a bit to warm up, but, no matter the setting, it still comes out icy.”

Great. You weren’t exactly handy with home appliances. Back at your apartment, you were on a first name basis with the maintenance man.

“Um,” you scratched the back your head anxiously. “Okay, I’ll go take a look at it.” Maybe if you stared at it long enough it’ll fix itself. What a miracle that would be.

“I’ll help you.”

Chanyeol stepped into the living room, volunteering his time. You hadn’t been alone with him since your almost kiss. It made you nervous. But you couldn’t come up with a valid reason to reject his offer.

“Okay,” you sighed. Standing up, you headed to the stairs to the basement. Chanyeol was close behind, his footsteps heavy against the wooden floor.

You found the water heater easily tucked into the far right corner, kneeled down, and opened up the panel. Everything seemed fine; no wires were obviously loose, nothing appeared to be out of place or non-functioning. You were dumbfounded as to what could be the issue.

Turning to Chanyeol, you huffed. “Any idea?”

He pursed his lips and reached into the open area, moving things around to get a better look.

“Careful,” you cautioned him. He just gave you a look that said “puh-lease”. Blowing air through your pursed lips, you mumbled, “You’re not superman, you know.”

He scoffed. “Please, I’m more like Deadpool.”

“You’re not that funny,” you deadpanned.

A pout formed on his lips, getting a laugh out of you.

He chuckled as well, before shaking his head. “Nothing looks out of place. Granted, I haven’t exactly seen one of these before.”

Running a hand through your hair, you fell back onto your butt, completely giving up. “I think a cold shower would do Baekhyun some good.”

“You have no idea,” Chanyeol snorted, joining you in your new position. His hand was a mere centimeter from yours and you were hyper aware of his body heat so close to yours. The proximity was awkward only to you. Chanyeol seemed to be basking in it.

Turning serious, Chanyeol looked at you. “Do you think that we’ll be here much longer?”

You shrugged. “I have no idea. Luhan is still waiting on the all clear. EXO will be looking for all of us relentlessly. You all are too valuable to them. They’ve put a lot of money and resources into the experiments performed on you guys. I’m just glad that we got you out of there before-”

You stopped, cursing yourself.

“Before they what?”

Shaking your head, you looked away, chewing on your bottom lip.

Chanyeol scooted closer to you, he cupped your jaw and gently forced you to look at him.

“What were they going to do to us?”

Swallowing, you felt water build up in your eyes. The idea of what they were trying to do still made your heart tighten. It was the most inhumane thing you could think of out of all the humiliating things they put the boys through. Should they know what was in store for them? Should you tell him the truth?

Chanyeol’s voice dropped several octaves as he asked, “(y/n), what were they going to do to us?”

You wiped away the tears before they could fall. “The last tests they were running, the last trial phase… was mind control. They were trying to find away to be able to control all of you. I don’t think they got very far in the process.” Trying to even out your breathing, you lied down on your back.

Shifting his weight, Chanyeol hovered over you, a hand resting on either side of your head.

“Thank you,” he whispered, minimising the space between the two of you. “Freedom of the mind was the only thing we had left. Thank you for helping us keep.”

“I couldn’t…,” you paused. “It was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.” You laughed. “I’m the worst therapist.”

Chanyeol frowned. “How so?”

Shrugging, you folded your hands on your stomach, ignoring the lack of room between the two of you. “Real therapists aren’t supposed to get emotionally involved with their patients. I got way too attached to you guys.”

“Maybe you were meant to be?”

Funny. Junmyeon said something very similar. His face filled your mine and you suddenly felt very guilty about the position you were in, though there wasn’t a real reason to be.

“Or maybe life just doesn’t want to give me a break-” You stopped. Break? Shooting up to a sitting position, you shoved Chanyeol away. “Breaker!”

You jumped up, feeling like an idiot. Wasn't the breaker the first thing your maintenance man always checked before moving on down the list of possibilities?

Chanyeol was left confused on the floor while you ran over to the breaker, throwing the panel open.

“Ah-ha!” There it was. The switch labeled “water heater” had somehow been flipped. You pushed it back into the on position A satisfying hum started in the background. You smirked down at the giant. “I think I just fixed it.”

He laughed, getting up onto his feet. “I think you did.”

“Let’s go tell the brat the good news.”

Before you could make it up a few steps, Chanyeol grabbed your wrist, holding you in place. The look in his eyes said it all.

“(y/n)-”

“Chanyeol,” you sighed, stopping him. “I think, for now, we need to focus on getting to safety. Maybe,” you chewed on the inside of your cheek, definitely feeling guilty now as you lied to him, “maybe we can revisit this in the future. Okay?”

Your response disappointed him, but he nodded. “Okay.”

“Good.” Released from his grip, you went up the stairs the rest of the way.

Baekhyun was still sitting on the couch in just a towel, waiting for you.

“You couldn’t at least put on pants in the meantime?” you complained, crossing your arms over your chest.

Baekhyun stood up, laughing. “Too lazy. Did you fix it?”

“I think so,” you replied. “Something tripped the breaker, but I flipped it back so I’d give it a few minutes and then try running the water again.”

He tilted his head to the side. “I don’t understand about half of what you just said, but okay!”

Running out of the living room, he held onto his towel as he bolted up the stairs before anyone else could jumped into the bathroom.

“(y/n)?”

Luhan stepped into the living room, cell phone in hand. Sensing the need for privacy, Chanyeol ducked out of the room. Luhan sent you a knowing look.

“Don’t,” you warned. “Just don’t.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. Holding the phone out to you, the screen showed a text message made up of a single word: Tuesday.

“What does that mean?” you asked. “Tuesday? What’s happening on Tuesday?”

“That’s when we move out,” he explained.

Your jaw dropped. “Are you serious? We’re finally getting out?”

Luhan grinned. “Yes, we are. The all clear’s been given.”

Doubt started setting in. You knew it wasn’t going to be as easy as it seemed it would be. “Why? Why now?”

The empath just lifted his shoulders and then let them fall. “Your guess is as good as mine. The only thing I can think of is that EXO is looking somewhere else in the country and not looking around the area.”

“Is the headquarters far?” To try and keep your mind off of any bad scenario that could happen, you started picking at a string on your shorts.

“A good distance, but we should make it in less than a day.”

“Good.”

Finishing up the conversation with a promise to get the guys together soon to let them know, you left Luhan and went up to your room. The sound of water hitting tile told you Baekhyun was still in the shower. All the bedroom doors were closed, but you didn’t know where the rest of the group was at.

Shutting the door behind you, you crossed your room to your bed, sitting down on the freshly cleaned comforter. You placed your head in your hands, trying to think of the best way to get everyone out of here safe. The SUV had plenty of gas thanks to the canisters stored in the trunk. The only problem was that you still didn’t know where the headquarters was located.

A soft knock came from your door.

“Come in,” you called out just as softly.

Junmyeon appeared after the door cracked open. He shut it behind him with a quiet click.

“Luhan told me,” he whispered.

You stood up, meeting him halfway. “That’s good. I think everyone will be happy to be out of here. One step closer to true freedom.”

He nodded, not looking at you and hands in his pockets. “What happens once we get there?”

You pulled your eyebrows together, not understanding. “You guys will go through some sessions to teach you about the outside world. You’ll get a fresh identity. You’ll be able to live the life you should have always had.”

Junmyeon shook his head. Removing his hands from his jeans, the fingers of his right hand found yours and held them in his grip. “No, I know that already. I meant,” he let out a hefty sigh. “I meant what happens to you?”

You were shocked. “Me? Well, I’ll get a new identity, too.”

This time he nodded. “And then?”

“And then,” you continued, “Marcus had said that I’d be allowed to stay with you guys. Watch over you. I guess we could all stay close together. Lord knows everyone will need constant help. I can already see Jongdae struggling to use a phone.”

That got a chuckle out of Junmyeon, whose gaze was still locked onto your joined hands. The joyful sound died out and a look of deep thinking took over his features.

“What is it?” you pried.

“Do you think-” he stopped. “Never mind.”

“What is it?” you urged, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

He let go of your hand, bringing his now empty fingers up to your face and cupping your jaw. “Do you think that maybe… you could see yourself… with me? In your future?”

“With you?” you echoed. Your mind was fogging up, slowing down and unable to create coherent thoughts. This was the kind of situation you were trying to avoid. For now, at least. But with him being so open and vulnerable in front of you, so honest, you could help but let it continue on.

Junmyeon nodded. “Yes. I just-” he swallowed. “Ever since you walked into my cell, you’ve given me hope. You are my hope. You make me feel human, fully human. I just want to stay with you, hold you and keep you safe. Do you… feel the same way?”

Your heart was pounding at a thousand miles an hour, bruising your sternum. If you lied to him now or pushed him away, you feared you might lose him for good. There was no denying the electricity you felt with his skin against yours. He calmed you down, made you feel worth something again. From the moment he told you his name in that accursed room, you were a goner.  

“Junmyeon….” You brought your hand up and covered his. “I want that. I want to stay with you.”

A smile grew on his face, big enough to crinkle his eyes and nose. The look was so opposite of the hostile one he’d given you when you first met that you couldn’t help but laugh. He brought up his other hand, trapping your face in his grip. Inch by inch he closed the gap that kept you separated and you closed your eyes.

[sequoiann]

agowilt

pairing: wonwoo x reader genre: sci-fi + cyborg n doctor wonwoo + big angst word count: 6.8k warnings: cancer

synopsis: in the far future, roles of doctors are no longer played by human beings; instead, they are replaced by robots who are faster, smarter, and ironically, this one’s… a little kinder.

A century ago, no one would’ve thought that our world would’ve advanced to this level of technology. No, not even a century ago — even people from half a centenary back would not have predicted that our world, the world where huge posters were put up and campaigns were organized to raise awareness about our rapidly dwindling resources, could’ve taken such a huge leap in evolution to lead us to where we were now.

It’s the year 2143. People from the early or mid 21st Century did have hopes for the invention of miraculous things in the far future, things that they were only able to dream about during their time. Inventions of flying cars, or translucent digital screens that can be touched in the air and are only seen in sci-fi TV shows, or the invention of things as simple as coffee makers that would brew your beverage to your liking with a scan of your fingerprint.

Now, these said items are found almost everywhere. It wouldn’t be surprising to walk out of your front door and see a car hovering above your roof, and those fingerprint-scanning coffee makers are found in almost every household.

But that is not considered as the most shocking. Honestly, it doesn’t even come as a surprise. People did predict for these contraptions to be made.

What is surprising is the integration of robots into our lives. Yes, robots, those mechanical things you’re thinking about right now — but just without the ugly, threatening, shiny metal parts with colorful wires coiled inside of it for it to function. These robots are no longer seen as inanimate objects or tools, they are now part of us human beings. They have skin surrounding their entire body, just like us, with all the main bodily parts that we possess: the eyes, nose, ears, limbs, fingers, toes. Internal organs such as the brain were present too, but of course, they aren’t real brains. No matter how far technology has advanced, scientists were just unable to replicate a real human brain. There was just no way for such a precocious organ could be made from scratch.

These robots were granted citizenship in most countries across the globe. No one even addresses them as ‘robots’ anymore — they are each given individual names, like us. The term ‘robots’ are now referring to the mechanic tools you find in huge industrial companies. But there was still a term needed to differentiate between the androids and the actual human mortals. Thus, the creators gave them a group name which classified them apart from the industrial robots and from human beings: Cyborgs.

These Cyborgs, as they became citizens of the country, they’d work, too. There were those times, in the 21st Century yet again, when school teachers constantly lectured the students about the mandatory need to adapt to situations quickly and be open for knowledge from different fields — they even specifically mentioned that half the jobs that were available are likely to be replaced by robots in the future.

And that was exactly what happened.

A major industry that these Cyborgs took over was the healthcare industry. Doctors, nurses, pharmacists, physiotherapists, dieticians — essentially a large majority of the roles involved in the healthcare commerce have been taken up by Cyborgs. All roles but one: the role of a psychologist, whether clinical or otherwise.

Like how the creators of Cyborgs were unable to clone a human brain for the robots, they were also unable to program them to feel anything emotionally. That was a stereotype of the Cyborgs that was confirmed to be true, amidst all the other false rumors. No matter what kind of individualistic personality the Cyborgs had, no matter how kind they were or how smart they were, they simply never understood how emotions felt like. Is it something visible? Can emotions be controlled however you’d like? Cyborgs often asked these questions to their human friends, but definite answers were never able to be provided.

Wonwoo was a Cyborg. A Cyborg doctor, to be exact. He was 21 years old in human age, but everyone knows Cyborgs never has a definite age that was legitimate. Wonwoo worked as a specialist in the pulmonary department ever since he was at the young age of eighteen. Cyborgs didn’t need to study, he’d curtly tell those who immorally shunned him for ‘taking the shortcut’. There were people — a small percentage of the human beings who were still working in the medical industry amidst the integration of Cyborgs into the community — who weren’t happy about how Cyborgs like Wonwoo were granted a workplace so easily, especially when the regular humans had to go through years and years of studying and practicing to get to where they were. On the other hand, there were colleagues who were glad to have Cyborgs to work with as they saw it as an advantage to have someone so knowledgeable as part of their team. It was a controversial issue.

Wonwoo was never one who cared about other people’s spiteful remarks about him or Cyborgs, though. He’d get about his daily life doing what he has to do, scurrying to and fro in the hospital he worked in. His other coworkers pointed out that he always seemed strangely calm, not a crease of a frown showing on his features even if someone’s screaming on the other end of his cell phone to get to the OR in five seconds. And that wasn’t a standardized trait of a Cyborg, mind you — every Cyborg has their individual characteristics.

Your first meeting with Wonwoo was on a late Thursday evening, at around 7pm. You were headed to the hospital to get a check-up for the abnormal sickly symptoms that you were having.

The past 2 weeks had been a blur mess. You had been heading to your workplace as per usual, where you worked as a retailer — but it felt almost as if you were pregnant or something. Random bursts of serious coughing would wash over you, sometimes causing you to make a beeline for the washroom — and you were having a ton of trouble keeping awake in the day. You were easily tired doing simple tasks such as restocking the shelves — tasks that were able to do with ease previously.

You thought it was merely fatigue at first, but you got scared when you coughed up blood one day. It wasn’t a pool of blood spilling out of your mouth like what happens in the movies, but after one of your bad choking-like coughs, you realized your palm, the one that had been covering your mouth, had red splatters dotted all over it.

You went to a neighborhood clinic to get some medication for your symptoms, but the doctor (the one you always go to whenever you were sick) seemed to have an exceptional look of worry on her face. She prescribed you a few pills to last you a week, but referred you to a hospital for a more detailed check-up. When you tried to tell her that you were sure you’d be fine after taking the prescription, she adamantly shook her head.

“It’d be best for you to go to the hospital, dear,” she had told you, a warm smile on her lips. “Just to make sure nothing’s wrong.”

You were a bit confused, although you expected that there was something amiss. People don’t just cough up blood. “Is there something wrong?”

“Our equipment here isn’t advanced enough to determine that,” she explained, an apologetic look in her eyes. You gave her a small smile in understanding, before taking your leave.

She sighed softly after you closed the door behind you, packing up the papers lying over her desk.

So here you are now, standing in front of the registration counter in the hospital and getting your queue number. The receptionist seemed especially unbothered and in a foul mood, so you didn’t say anything more than you had to, quickly retrieving your registration ticket and thanking her. No. 5306, Room 21.

You walked down the hallway and turned into one of the corners where the overhead sign reading ‘Rooms 20-25’ had pointed to, sitting down on one of the blue chairs at the waiting area right outside of the room. You rested your head back on the wall behind you and let your eyelids flutter close — you felt drained of all your energy. The only sound that made you open your eyes were the dinging sounds made by the LED screen hanging at one of the corners of the hospital walls which displayed the queue numbers.

Your number came up on the screen after 15 minutes, which wasn’t very long considering how the hospital was a pretty renowned and busy one. You slung the strap of your purse over your shoulder and stood up, walking over to the room with a big ‘21’ sign on the beige wooden door. Gently knocking twice as a courtesy action, you pushed down on the cold metal door handle when you heard a voice from the inside that had muttered a “come in”.

You were surprised when your eyes first fell on the doctor. Your gaze lingered on his figure for a period longer than it should’ve. A pair of thin-framed round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as his eyes darted about on the computer screen in front of him, the usual white doctor coat wrapped loosely around his body. A paper cup of hot coffee stood on his desk, and you guessed that was an aid for his mildly tired-looking self. The glowiness of his subtly pale skin seemed too porcelain-like for it to be real, his hair of an ashy cinnamon color which complemented his skin tone. His face was thin, you weren’t going to lie, but he was handsome nonetheless; his bone structure was symmetrical, cheekbones high and prominent.

The man took his eyes off of the monitor and looked towards you, his expression a little more blank and unfeeling than an average person’s. A light chill ran down your spine when his cold eyes met yours.

“Have a seat, Miss Y/N,” he offered, extending an open palm towards the empty chair right beside his desk. You snapped out of your thoughts and sat down at the said seat. At least his voice had some sort of tone to it, you thought.

You felt a cough rise up your throat but you didn’t let it out, not wanting to disrupt the quiet atmosphere and thus simply clearing your throat lightly.

There was another chair in front of the table for the patient’s guardians. Which you didn’t have at the moment. You caught sight of the golden, slightly-rusted badge pinned on the doctor’s white coat — “Jeon Wonwoo”.

Wonwoo proceeded to ask you for a few of your particulars to confirm your identity, to which you responded with ease, like it was something you’d do every day.

“You were referred here from Mori’s clinic, right?” he asked as his attention turned to the monitor again, his finger clicking away at the mouse. You nodded, your hands clasped together on your lap. You couldn’t help but keep your eyes on him.

He hummed softly before turning over to you again, making you flinch slightly and look away. He didn’t catch you, luckily. It was either that or he was ignoring the fact that you were checking him out. Given his looks, he’d probably have to deal with people fawning over him every day.

Wonwoo removed the stethoscope that was lying on his shoulders and rolled his office chair closer to you. He placed the eartips into his ears before taking the chestpiece diaphragm and pressing it onto a spot a little higher than your chest. He noticed how stiff you were, but made no comment about it, simply following the routines of telling you to inhale and exhale, to which you obediently followed. You were trying your best not to let out your crazy coughs — you were pretty sure you’d cough all over Wonwoo’s face.

“Your reports from Mori’s clinic a week ago says you’ve been coughing badly,” he read from his screen, occasionally making eye contact with you. “And you’ve been feeling especially weak. And that you have a loss of appetite.”

When you nodded to confirm his statements, he continued, “Did all this still occur within this week after eating the prescribed medicine from her?”

You put a fist to your mouth as you cleared your throat and nodded again, explaining to him what has been happening the past week. Your voice came out hoarse. Even after the prescription, the symptoms seemed to only get better for a day or two before returning to their original severity. On some days, the coughing was even worse, causing you to start wheezing due to your shortage of breath.

Wonwoo exhaled heavily after hearing what you said, and even though his expression seemed fairly unreadable, you could tell that something was wrong. He flipped the papers of your medical report back to the front page and quickly typed a few sentences into his computer.

“I’ll have to have you to run some tests, Miss Y/N,” he told you. “CT scans.”

You widen your eyes in surprise.

“Now?”

He nodded. “I’ll arrange for yours to be done as soon as possible, so don’t worry about the time. It shouldn’t take long.”

You frowned. “May I know why I have to do those scans, Dr. Jeon? And why am I….” you stopped to swallow and clear your throat once again as your voice became increasingly raspy, “…coughing up blood?”

A flicker of surprise could be seen in his eyes when you addressed him with his surname, but he didn’t show anything more than that. The way he said the next sentence was so monotonous and natural — as if it was a line that he’d say to hundreds of patients a day.

“I suspect you have SCLC, Miss Y/N. In simple terms, lung cancer.”

2 days later

You woke up to the soft chattering and murmuring of voices outside your room. There was a momentary state of confusion when your eyes were met with white walls and white curtains with soft orange linings. You turned your head slightly and saw the heart rate monitors and other medical equipment beside your bedside, and that’s when you remembered why you were here, in a hospital room.

(You had gone through the CT scan, which was more intimidating that you had expected as they put you in a suitable attire — a robe of some sort which was 2 sizes too big for you; it kept falling off your shoulders and you had to practically adjust the entire piece of clothing forward such that it drooped into a U-shape at your neck — and then the nurses took you to a dull room with that big donut-shaped machine.)

You lay on your bed and stared up at the ceiling, taking in slow breaths as the soft whirring of the ceiling fan calmed the atmosphere. You were trying to recall everything that happened in as much as detail as you could ever since the first day you had started experiencing the symptoms which you had never even thought about in depth — although, really, it was a stupid thing to do. It made tears prick at the back of your eyes and pulled you further into reality — the reality you really, really didn’t want to believe.

The dark, abnormal, impending spot that showed up on your scan results had revealed the cancer cells that had spread from your lungs to your lymph nodes — which explains the overly vigorous coughing that you’ve been having for the past month or so.

When Wonwoo told you the results of the test, you were pretty sure your face went through almost every expression possible in the neutral-to-negative range — or rather, the ‘5 emotional stages of grief’. Kubler Ross.

You were in denial at first. Your mind was telling you that it was impossible, as Wonwoo’s words repetitively chanted themselves like a mantra inside your head. You’ve been doing okay, you thought, all there was was a bad cough accompanied by fatigue which, once again, you thought was just due to the lack of sleep. Or maybe work was stressing you out. There were so many possibilities, none being anywhere close to the gravity of the truth.

The next stage was anger, together with bargaining. You got agitated and worked up, demanding to run another test that would show ‘accurate results’ and not ‘the bull results’ that you were being presented. Wonwoo kept his cool demeanor throughout, even when your usually soft-spoken voice started raising in volume. You grew appreciative of that later, after you had organized your disorderly thoughts.

You seemed to skip the next stage, the stage of so-called depression. After calming down (which Wonwoo’s composed mien helped with), you just went ahead to the stage of acceptance. Thinking logically, there was definitely something terribly wrong the moment you coughed up blood — which constantly got worse with each passing day.

So here you are now. Hospitalized and kept under supervision and observation to try to prevent the cancer cells from spreading. You were confirmed to be in Stage 2 of lung cancer when you got admitted, and Wonwoo was your assigned doctor, much to your concealed relief.

You didn’t know how to act, honestly. You didn’t know how to stop the disintegration of your feelings to prevent the disorientation of your mind. You were behaving so nonchalantly, it was almost as if you weren’t just diagnosed with one of the top causes of death in the entire world.

You were told that the treatment for you would be surgery, to remove parts of the organs that the cancer cells had spread to — organs which included your lungs (of course) and lymph nodes.

(Wonwoo, who was your overall doctor-in-charge, had introduced you to your surgeon — a middle-aged man named Dr. Hwang who seemed to have enough experience to make sure that you didn’t die on the surgical table. You were surprised when you realized Wonwoo wasn’t the one who was going to operate on you; you could almost picture him wearing those blue scrubs that you’d see surgeons in as they hassled about in the hospital compounds.

You and Wonwoo grew closer at a relatively slow rate, and a key reason was probably that of how introverted his personality was. You’ve seen him smile though, but the smiles were never like the ones that would show his teeth: just small, meek smiles formed by the raised corners of his pink lips. Wonwoo would come check in on you every 4 hours or so, sometimes with longer durations in between or less, depending on his schedule and your condition.

You were never one to coop yourself up, so you occasionally took strolls in the garden outside of the hospital building but within its compounds. You even made friends with a female receptionist downstairs, a wise lady who seemed no older than 40, who goes by the name of Nora. Not the petty one you met on your day of registration. She chatted quite a fair bit, but her nagging reminded you of your grandmother and she never spoke of untrue matters, so you wouldn’t complain.

However, Wonwoo showed distaste whenever you weren’t in your room while he was doing his rounds. You’d often be sitting on a bench in the garden, a bench that you always returned to because of the pretty scenery and flora surrounding its spot, when you catch sight of a white-coated figure strutting towards you. He’d have his lips pressed into a line, his eyes looking down at you in exasperation — as if you were a little child that he had lost in a shopping mall. You found it a little funny, honestly.

“Didn’t I tell you to not move about so much, Miss Y/N?” Wonwoo spoke, his voice still monotone although it was a question asked, exceptionally using formalities. He’d usually just call you Y/N — you two didn’t have a very big age gap. (You never asked, but you could tell he was pretty young.)

You chuckled a little as you coughed (again) to clear your hoarse throat, standing up and walking back to the building with Wonwoo beside you.

“But I’m fine,” you told him, spreading your arms open as unnecessary proof. Wonwoo simply sighs and shakes his head slightly , his hands resting in the pockets of his doctor coat as always.

“You haven’t gotten your operation yet,” Wonwoo stated, scribbling something onto the small stack of white papers in his hands which were supported by a blue clipboard. “So you can’t say that.”)

You said you weren’t scared but Wonwoo knows better than that. He notices how your body movements were tighter, your appetite reduced. His optics scans facial expressions, and he could easily deduce that you were nervous. He knew you didn’t especially favor hospital food (no one does), but you never complained about it and just ate whatever your dietician brought to your bed. But as your scheduled operation date neared, you started pushing aside the food on your plate, and finding things to do that don’t need doing to distract yourself.

There were days when Wonwoo would have to come into your room in the middle of the night — like literally in the middle of the night at 2am or so — to conduct simple checks or super minor tests on you, some involving the need to wake you up from your slumber. He’d try his best to avoid doing so but checks are checks after all.

These days, when he enters your room ever so quietly (almost tipping toes but he didn’t want to be caught looking like a thief), you’d shuffle on your sheets and turn to the door, sitting up when you saw him. He’d pause for a moment, but doesn’t say anything and just walk over to your bedside to proceed with the tests. You’d quietly let him do his job, sometimes bringing up small talk which he doesn’t really provide long replies to. Not that you mind; you understood and was accepting of his introvert personality.

On the day of your operation, you had an odd mix of feelings. The positive side was that it was a treatment for your disease — you that means you’d (potentially) be cured of cancer, right? Then you’d be able to go on living the life you were living, though things would probably be slightly different. But you’d be able to live.

Then there’s the negative side. Everyone knows that surgeries were subjected to failures and complications. If you were unlucky enough to have been diagnosed with cancer, there was probably nothing stopping the bad omen that your surgery could go wrong.

“Y/N?” Wonwoo spoke, standing beside you with other nurses and doctors who were wheeling your bed to the operating room.

“Yeah?”

“You good?”

“Y-yeah.”

Wonwoo knew better, but simply nods in response after glancing at you with a last look of subtle… something. Cyborgs don’t feel.

(You first found out that Wonwoo was a Cyborg during one of his nightly rounds. He had came into your room, and after finishing the checks, while he was cleaning up, a small, blinking red light suddenly appeared on the left side of his neck. It caused him to falter a bit, his arms swiftly grabbing onto the side rails of your bed for support.

“Wonwoo?” you said as you sat up, confused and worried.

“No, no, lie back down, I’m fine,” he told you, standing back upright and gesturing for you to not get up.

“I’m done with your checks for tonight,” he said, his voice sounding a little more slurred. “Rest well. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that, he gathered his items and left (to his charging pod, you assumed), and you could see that he had slight difficulty in trying to keep his balance.

You didn’t have many questions then — you easily confirmed his identity as a Cyborg. You already knew that most of the doctors and staff here weren’t of your species.)

“Will you be in there?” you asked out of the blue.

Wonwoo only hums, continuing to look ahead as his hands wrapped around the side rails of your bed, pushing you forward. Backward, rather.

And for some odd reason, his palms were starting to get abnormally moist, forming an unwanted lubricant between the surface of his skin and the object it was in contact with.

The surgery went by smoothly. ‘Smoothly’ as in, you were still alive, in your hospital bed, breathing.

After you woke up, it took you less than a minute to register your (dark) surroundings and gather your memories. Almost immediately, you noticed the tubes sticking out of your chest (…gross), and with every breath you took, the incision in the centre of your upper body hurt. A short, sharp but bearable pain which irritated you slightly because you couldn’t, well, stop breathing to minimize that sting.

You weren’t sure of what time it was, but it definitely was late.

Feeling exhausted, you let your eyelids fall close, hoping that the stings wouldn’t keep you from falling back asleep.

However, a few moments later, before you could drift off to sleep, your room door slides open. You ignored it at first, thinking that perhaps the person just came in to check on your vitals.

“Y/N?”

You opened your eyes, and saw Wonwoo at the foot of your bed.

When you opened your mouth to speak, you realized that it caused a lot more discomfort than you had expected, your voice slightly hoarse.

Wonwoo immediately moves to your bedside. “Don’t force yourself to speak if you can’t. I just came to check that you’re doing fine.”

You smiled slightly, and it seemed to make Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrow — so slightly and for such a short moment that both you and him did not register that.

“Are you feeling any odd discomfort?” he asked in a voice that sounded a little monotone.

You exhaled, softly saying, “Define ‘odd discomfort’.”

Wonwoo presses his lips together without saying anything, holding back the urge to quote the denotation of the said word, before taking your cold hand in both of his warm ones and giving it a couple light squeezes.

“Any pain?”

You shook your head slowly.

He massages your down your arm and lower legs and asks the same question, to which you gave the same reply to.

“That’s good,” he said.

“…Wonwoo,” you spoke, although your body didn’t want to. It just wanted you to go back to sleep so that it could stop its unnecessary functioning.

“Hm?” Wonwoo hummed, his eyes growing slightly bigger as he turned to you, away from scribbling down your updates onto your medical charts. He leaned down instinctively to accommodate your soft voice.

(He must’ve thought you wanted to tell him something important from the way you called his name. You felt your heart beat a little faster. You probably wouldn’t have noticed it yourself if you hadn’t just gone through a lung operation.)

“I just wanted to ask if you were tired.”

Wonwoo blinked, slightly surprised as he stood back straight up. “Oh,” he mumbled. “I, uh, just charged yesterday.”

“…Oh, right.” You chuckled. “I forgot.”

The corners of Wonwoo’s lips perked up slightly again at your innocent laugh. “Why?”

“Nothing,” you said. “I was just wondering. You always come in in the middle of the night but I always see you in the day too.”

You smiled a small smile again, the one that was really just a weak version of your usual sprightly smile, making Wonwoo have that super-slight-and-swift eyebrow furrow once more. “I guess I was worrying for nothing, right?”

Wonwoo smiled, a little wider this time. “Yeah. I’m fine,” he assured. “I’ve got a long battery lifespan.”

You laughed lightly, unable to bring yourself to laugh your usual laughter. The slight vibration of your chest was already hurting. “Good to hear.”

Wonwoo left the room to continue his rounds, a smile plastered on his face. When he got to the corridor, he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head.

You were the first human, completely unrelated to him, who asked about his well-being.

Nora folds her arms over the countertop as she leaned forward, smiling when she saw you approaching. You smiled back from a distance, greeting her with a cheery “Hi!” after you got close enough.

“Sweetheart!” she chirped, her voice high-pitched as usual. “How are you keeping up?”

You grinned. “Perfectly fine.” You spread out both your arms (it was a habit of yours, for whenever someone asked about your well-being) for a short moment before tucking them into the pockets of your hospital blouse.

“How’s the incision?” she continued questioning, her eyes falling on your chest. You laughed in embarrassment and instinctively put your arms over your chest, tilting your body away.

“Good, Nora, it’s all good,” you told her, making her chuckle.

Her hazel eyes then turn their attention to something (or somebody) over your shoulder.

“Oh,” she muttered with a small smile, “Look who’s here.”

You turned around and followed her line of gaze, breaking out into a smile when your eyes fell on the said person, who donned a white coat.

Wonwoo had the same exasperated look on his face as he made his way over.

“Good afternoon, Doctor,” Nora greeted politely, and Wonwoo does the same, but minus the warm smile that Nora had on her lips.

“Why’re you out here again?” Wonwoo asked, passing a clipboard over to Nora, whom received it and sat down to get back to work.

You shrugged. “I felt good enough this morning to take a walk.”

Wonwoo sighed. “You just had your operation 3 days ago, Y/N. It’s dangerous for you to be outside.”

You wanted to laugh at his expression. “I’m fine, really. Besides, I’m hungry, and the dietician is still restricting my food choices.” You pouted at the thought of it.

“Good to hear.”

You only scorned at him, causing the corners of his lips to perk up ever so slightly again, his eyes twinkling in amusement more than his facial expression showed.

“Is cake off the list?” you tried asking.

“Anything sugary.”

You scowled again, looking over to Nora who only laughed as she typed away on her keyboard, saving records from the datasheet that Wonwoo had just handed to her.

“Quit whining,” Wonwoo said to you as Nora handed him back the clipboard. “You’ll be able to eat anything you want in a few weeks after you’ve recovered. Now will you please head back to your room?”

Nora laughed again. “Run along, Y/N. Listen to your doctor.”

You hesitated for a split second but obliged after feeling an abrupt, sharp prick in your chest, saying your goodbyes to Nora before heading back to your room with Wonwoo trailing along beside you.

(You had ignored that prick. It was probably the incision healing.)

“Can I ask you a question?” you started, trying to fill up the quietness between the both of you as Wonwoo walked you back to your ward.

“Hm.” He had thought of a witty answer to that, but preferred not to say it.

“Why don’t you laugh?“

He wanted to go with the answer of “I’m a Cyborg”, but that doesn’t exactly answer the question.

“There’s nothing to laugh at,” he responded simply, looking ahead.

“I mean, I’m not trying to be subjective but…” you stopped to turn to look at him as you tried to catch your breath (why were you starting to pant?), “…you definitely should laugh more. Maybe start off with smiling. That works too.”

Wonwoo couldn’t help but chuckle. You were one weird being.

After sending you into your room, you and Wonwoo talked for a bit more before he left to continue his rounds.

Once he does, you put a hand to your mouth and cleared your throat. It felt hoarse again, and a dense, heavy weight was resting itself on top of your chest.

(You felt a little, just a little, suffocated.)

Code Blue, South 6.

Code Blue, South 6.

Wonwoo was annoyed at the disruption at first; he was in the middle of diagnosing a patient. He focused on the patient he was with, but on the third call, he jolted out of his thoughts.

Code Blue, South 6.

His (unauthentic) heart jumped to his throat as his mind frantically registered the meaning of the code and the location that accompanied it. Pupils dilating, adrenaline levels rising;

South 6. The only patient of his that belonged to that sector of the hospital was you.

Wonwoo hastily apologized to the patient in front of him and dropped the chart into its holder, taking huge strides towards the room door and flinging it open. Once he got out to the corridor, he broke into a run.

Then it was a sprint, his white coat almost flying behind him as he dashed past everybody he passed, completely uncaring if he had accidentally bumped into anyone. He could apologize later.

Wonwoo’s mind was firing out negative thoughts that wouldn’t die down even while he was running. They keep coming like waves on rocks on a particularly windy day. The arguments in his head got so fast and so disturbing that it seemed to shut down after a while. His entire body was starting to sweat, strands of hair already sticking to his damp forehead. He didn’t have a real heart, but he felt like his was going to explode.

He pushed everyone aside when he got to your room. There were a ton of nurses inside which unnecessarily irritated him. The stuffiness of the room — he hated it.

You were on your bed, choking, desperately gasping for air and taking in sharp breaths, but nothing seemed to pass through your airways to enter your lungs. Your mind was awake, you knew what was happening around you, but your body wasn’t in sync with that.

“Her lungs are filled with fluid, Doctor,” the head nurse (Jaime, who was actually doing something) quavered, her hands moving swiftly to try to get you to breathe normally again.

Nothing was working. You were turning horribly blue.

“Get an OR now,” Wonwoo commanded in a harsh tone to no one in particular. Everyone shot looks at each other, and when no one moved, Wonwoo snapped his head around to all the other nurses, raising his voice.

“What are you doing just standing there? Didn’t you hear me?”

Someone shuffled and dashed out of the room in response, and the other nurses retreated out in intimidation.

“Y/N,” you heard Wonwoo’s voice stand out amidst the chaos, the muffled words becoming clearer as you felt him rush to your bedside. “Y/N, stay with me.”

The pain that once burned like fire was fading away into icy numbness. You felt black creeping in from the edges of your uncomfortably bright vision, your breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. You felt something being pulled over your mouth, but you didn’t register what that was.

People were swarming over you, trying to help, you realized. You wanted to laugh if you could. You weren’t any medical expert but you could practically feel that you weren’t going to make it.

Suddenly, a loud, sharp, repetitive beeping sound filled the entire room as your heart monitor started to show smaller peaks. Now, even your mind wasn’t awake. You were unconscious.

Wonwoo shoots a short glance towards the detested machine and a string of curses follows.

“She’s going into arrest,” Jaime said, her voice loud as she grabbed the defibrillator. Wonwoo hastily snatches the device from her, and does the necessary. His jaw was tightened, his grip on the device so tight that his knuckles turned white.

Your body jerks, again and again, as Wonwoo pressed the defibrillator onto your chest. The blasts emitted from the shocks rang in his ears, echoing in the walls of his mind. If the amount of desperation he had while holding the device was transferred to its function, your heart would’ve definitely picked up on its beats.

Your surgeon, Dr Hwang, only came into the room now, his expression confused and was obviously panicked.

“What’s happening? What’s going on?”

No one had the time to reply.

Then the heart monitor started to lower its peaks even more.

Jaime charged up the defibrillator again, and Wonwoo pressed it onto your chest. His always-clear mind was fogged up, the kind when you just wake up and you know what’s going on around you, but at the same time, there’s the feeling of unfamiliarity.

“Y/N.” The corners of his eyes pricked. Why would it prick? Was it sweat that got into his eyes?

“Please.”

Wonwoo took the bouquet of flowers from the florist, the tissue paper used to wrap them crinkling under his touch. It was the first time he bought you flowers, he noticed. It shouldn’t be like that, though — this shouldn’t have been the first time.

(How did he not see it coming? He repeatedly asked himself this question, so often that sometimes he’d find himself accidentally mumbling out those words as he sat alone.

Maybe it was because he was a robot, he thought, a Cyborg; programmed and meant to only process and act on what was happening at the current moment. A Cyborg never grows attachments to anyone, they said. Maybe that’s why he didn’t realize or think much about it when you took longer to wake up in the mornings, or when you stopped going to the gardens even 3 weeks after your operation when the pain should’ve subsided enough for you to do simple tasks that he knew you enjoyed doing.

Maybe that’s why he never even fathomed the thought of not having you beside him.

Now that the situation was like this, where you were gone, his robotic self would process it. Wonwoo never wanted to see you in death, just to recall your vibrant smile. No one was even there to comfort him or to tell him that is was part of letting a loved one go — Cyborgs don’t feel, they said concludingly, so they’re always fine.

“Good for you,” they had told him.

He was stoic throughout, and maybe it was because his usual self was already so unfeeling that no one thought more about his loss.

When he saw you in your coffin at your funeral, his lips curled up in a contorted way and he felt his body shake like a leaf. That was a first for him — he experienced a lot of firsts when it came to you. You looked at peace. There was no greyness; just the absence of the usual pink on your cheeks.)

Wonwoo walks through the lush field, where dew lay on the green grass, and it almost made him smile at the thought of how your bubbly personality would’ve complemented this view amidst the dull stone slabs — but he doesn’t. He doesn’t remember the last time that he did smile after you left.

He stopped at one of the said slabs, one that was just a little shinier than the others, going down on one knee and resting the flowers he bought in front of it. He stays there, staring, and it was almost as if he could see you before him. His brown orbs gleamed in the sunlight, glossy — but no one, not even him, was aware of that.

“I hope you’re having fun playing with the angels, Y/N.”

There was something else he wanted to tell you, a really simple phrase — or a sentence, how ever you see it — but he hesitated, afraid that he didn’t fully understand the true meaning of that phrase yet to be able to use it. So he kept quiet; maybe he’ll tell you next time.

[kwrittink]

Clumsy Pup /12

Pairing: Reader x Hybrid!Kim NamJoon., Genre: Fluff/Smut

Warnings: language, period mention, sexual themes, masturbation. 

Words: 4,332

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- Y/N? - the shout from outside the bathroom door startled you, undoing the grimace you had on after looking down to your panties. I got my period, ugh. That was the first one since you stopped taking birth control pills

- Yes Joonie? - even after you cleared your throat your voice came out croaked, and you cringed at it, annoyed. 

- Uh I smell blood and... I was just wondering if everything is okay, do you need any help? - he asked and you had to scoff. Of course that was it, what to expect when you lived with a man that had enhanced sense of smell like NamJoon? But how can I explain this to him? Without grossing him out, that is...

- Oh yes I’m okay, it’s just... Well that time of the month, you know, for us females. - you tried, wincing silently as you held to the toilet, hoping he understood you enough. There was a minute of silence before a soft “oh” could be heard from outside. Seconds later you heard footsteps as NamJoon walked away, and that made you sigh. I guess he did understand. 

Though having your period at that point made sense - it had been a little more than a month and the little breakouts on your face were driving you insane, what to say about hormones - it kind of made you wonder if what had happened the other night with NamJoon had been because of the smell of your hormones. I read something about that and I gather that they are really sensitive to hormones so he might have scented that I was on the last of my fertile interval. 

The realization made you blush, even if you knew that his reactions that night were partially due sleepiness, your hormones and the lavender - it was known as an aphrodisiac in some parts of the world so perhaps that affected NamJoon in some extent -, you couldn’t brush the feeling of him nuzzling your neck, his hot breath fanning over your cold skin, lips brushing ever-so-lightly and making your whole body quiver, and his voice, the low tone that contained a purr that still reverberated deep in your chest... And how he held you so close to his body as you melted on his touch. You still felt your knees weak thinking about that. 

After getting a shower - also hand washing your stained stuff so NamJoon wouldn’t be bothered by it - you sauntered back to your room to change and get ready for the day, having spare time before heading out to work. NamJoon decided to stay home that day, saying that he wanted to finish a book or two he was currently reading - prompting you to ask yourself how smart could he be to be reading two books at the same time -, so you would have to just miss him the whole day. Getting him a phone will be very useful indeed. You thought, even more set on your decision of gifting that item for him. It’s going to cost me some money, but will be worth it. 

- Joonie, have you seen my... - your voice died on your throat as you caught the hybrid looking startled to you from the kitchen counter with a thermos bottle. 

- I... In the meantime you were showering I searched the web for something for you to eat and drink while at work for these... Days - he started explaining without coaxing, and you purse your lips trying to contain a smile as you leaned on the doorframe. - And though we don’t have most of the things I mixed cinnamon and ginger, which said they eased pain and such, and made a tea out of it. Now I think it smells strong but it kinda tasted good, and since you like sweet things - continued, pulling sugar packs from the holder on the counter and placing them beside the bottle, proceeding to explain that you had only to put one inside and shake a bit, and that the thermos had three cups worth of tea inside. As you nodded, your eyes went to the little paper bag on the counter that had some packs that looked a lot with the chocolates and candy bars you liked to “steal” from the fridge once in a while. 

- Oh these are chocolates, I read that they release oxytocin and keep you happy, and I also put some crackers for the tea, if you wish to. I hope you don’t mind. - he finished, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. A big man like this all cute and shy... What am I going to do with him? Your heart was doubled in size, you couldn’t even believe you were even awake. 

- Mind? This is more than anyone has do for me, you dummy. - And here comes the hormones, I’m crying. The tears fell even as you smiled, it was such a small gesture but so touching, that maybe, just maybe you would have cried without the help of hormones too. It was cute, he was cute, and you didn’t want anything more than just kiss him at that point. 

Chuckling at his startled expression - NamJoon was probably panicking thinking he made you cry - you just settled by walking up to him and clinging on his neck, hugging it tightly as you sniffed, glad that you also hadn’t bothered putting on makeup. Realizing everything was okay, he hugged you back and rubbed his face on the top of your head endearingly. 

- You’re really good to me, Joonie. The best man in the world, don’t ever leave me okay? - now that was definitely hormones. Yes you felt like that, but there was no need to utter and scare NamJoon that way, but you couldn’t help it. You were extremely sensitive and had a penchant for being dramatic in those occasions. 

- I’m sorry, but you’re the one stuck with me. - NamJoon snickered and you let him go, sniffing one last time as mild embarrassment hit you for your actions. Still you giggled with him, even picking up a tiny chocolate bar from the “snack bag”, chewing at it with a sense of guilt, but also relief. I have to take a pic of this when I get to the library today. 

- We’re settled then, we’re not going anywhere away from each other. - you stated, to which NamJoon nodded with a cute dimpled smile. Your phone rang, the familiar tone reminding you that you had ten minutes to get to work. - Oh, I got to head out! I’ll see you later, be good and if anything, you know where the emergency contacts are. - rushing you grabbed the food he had done, chuckling at the way he rolled his eyes at you for saying the same things every time you left. It doesn’t hurt to reinforce. You then absentmindedly raised in your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek, then ran out the house in a frenzy, suddenly embarrassed by what you did, leaving a stunned NamJoon. 

- Ah, so your boyfriend did this for you? That’s so cute! - MinHyuk teased, as soon as you gingerly placed the makeshift lunchbox on the table of the backroom. Scoffing you fished yet another candy bar from the bag, turning to your boss while opening it. 

- You know what tease me as much as you want, you can only wish to have someone to make you these kind of cute stuff. - dodging MinHyuk’s hand as he tried to snatch your food you took a bite, you chuckled. 

- Do you know Kihyun? You know, the guy who owns a coffee shop right down the street? He does makes my breakfast every morning, you know. - he quipped, as you took a sip of the tea - it really needed all the sugar packets NamJoon put in there. Straight up medicine, but no way I’m getting rid of this. You thought, while turning to snap a picture of the set thing, so you could send to Lisa and brag about it later.

- Yeah but... I didn’t have to pay for this. - throwing him a winner smile you finish the candy and put on the black apron that was the only thing labeled as uniform on the store. I don’t mind one bit, being completely honest. 

- Okay, you had enough of rubbing your boyfriend on my face already. Let’s get to work. - defeated, MinHyuk followed you to the front of the store to open it, and start your work day. You tried to ignore once again MinHyuk’s mention of NamJoon as your boyfriend, because you knew that he had spoken to Kihyun over the weekend - the whole store was strangely too clean to be MinHyuk’s doing -, so it was just what they speculated. Thought I explained more or less to MinHyuk about Joon’s situation, so I know it’s just teasing. 

You started working, sorting out some books and doing some resumes on the new volumes that arrived. 

Romance, fantasy/sci-fi(?) short but worth re-reading

Tilting your head at your notebook - where you kept notes on some books for later data input - you wondered when you had written that note and what book it was about, but then you realized, the handwriting was totally different from yours - it was gorgeous. Neat and clear, nothing remotely close to your messy attempt of writing. This must be NamJoon’s... I think he mistook it from the one I lent him. 

- I was looking for a recommendation on a book, but seeing you smile like that made me curious about what you’re reading. - the comment startled you the deep voice of the speaker dragged you to the other night, where NamJoon spoke right beside your ear, and you couldn’t help the shudder as you clutched your chest. In front of you, ChangKyun chuckled amused at your reaction.

- You should stop hanging out with Kihyun, the cheesiness is starting to get stuck. - you whispered, throwing him an unamused glance. The blondish boy leaned on the counter where you were working, peeking at what you were doing. 

- Well we could be hanging out instead, but you’re always curving me. - he shot back, and you took a deep breath, looking back to your screen and resuming work with a soft grin. ChangKyun was such a sweetheart, a very good friend - even if he was closer to KiHyun -, but happened to be very flirty with everything that moved. And you had been his target for as long as you’ve been single, though nothing would come out of his “advances”. He knew you didn’t looked at him like that but did it hurt to try?

- Since you’ve came back from traveling, why don’t we all hang out then? I’m sure the others miss you. - upon hearing you he scoffed, realizing that still there was no use flirting with you. 

- Ah you came late to the game once again, Y/N has another boyfriend already. - MinHyuk started, prompting you to groan while he popped beside you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. ChangKyun gasped a surprised “really?”, looking absolutely thrilled. MinHyuk leaned on the counter, nodding enthusiastically as he started blabbering about what KiHyun told him, making you roll your eyes. Yes, I also have to kill KiHyun for putting a soft aphrodisiac in NamJoon’s drink. I’m sure he knew about that, he and JooHeon are obsessed with those kind of stuff with herbs and everything.

Sighing you went back to type data while they gossiped, realizing they never talked about your love life before - you’ve met them all months in dating Jihyun, when you started working at the library -, and even if it was a little annoying, it was also nice to see them supporting you. Even if NamJoon wasn’t really your boyfriend. 

- Guys, NamJoon isn- 

- Oh, we should all hang out then, go to a karaoke or something, or have some drinks, what do you say Y/N? - ChangKyun interrupted you as you were about to explain that you and Joonie weren’t actually in a relationship, KiHyun had just assumed that the other night and it was spreading around. Again is none of their business but also can be harmful, I don’t know how Joon would feel about that.

- I just proposed that five minutes ago, Kukkun. But yeah, I’d like you guys to meet NamJoon, but maybe in a more calm environment? You know, his hearing is kinda sensitive and karaokes are loud... - you trailed off, looking to your boss to see if he understood the situation. 

- Oh yeah! Y/N is right, we should choose something a little more peaceful, since Joonie is a hybrid. - you actually cringed as he said those words, even if MinHyuk spoke - like it should be spoken, to be honest - like it was just a small detail. But your wince was because you didn’t knew how ChangKyun would react to that. I know he’s a nice guy, but we can never be so sure about people... 

- Ah, plausible, and there’s also Honey right? - the other friend shrugged as casually as one could while taking his phone out of his pocket, when it rang. - Oh shit guys you’ll have to excuse me, I have this thing in a few minutes and I’m kinda late... We can talk about this later, make sure MinHyuk put you on the groupchat so we can all discuss this better. - ChangKyun was suddenly in a hurry and you saw MinHyuk squint at him suspiciously. Sure, you’re late to this “thing”... You snickered, as aware of his ways as MinHyuk. Nonetheless, when ChangKyun leaned on the counter to wrap his arm around your frame in a quick hug you just wished him good luck, instead of being innapropriate like your boss and shout for him to “use protection”. 

After he left you actually felt relieved of their reaction - even if, again, NamJoon wasn’t really your boyfriend. I have to talk to them later on about that... Of course there was KiHyun’s case, but you also knew Honey was considered more human that any other type of hybrid. It’s irritating yes, but it’s more because she doesn’t have the “characteristics” of a hybrid, besides the antennas are barely noticeable. She just likes sweets and to eat vibrant flowers sometimes... And spring is a crazy season for her. You snickered, while eating the rest of your lunch, being able to bare the strong taste of the tea with the five packets of sugar NamJoon had put inside. 

- Hey Y/N, what do you think about closing up for today? - MinHyuk suddenly asked, pulling you out of your thoughts to look at him, not even surprised. He usually started to close soon at the beginning of December, only to extend the working hours the three days before Christmas Eve. 

- Being quite honest I’d like to have the rest of the day off. NamJoon packed me this “Period Snack Pack” but it works only to some extent. - you shrugged, making MinHyuk grimace at you words. 

- He’s too cute for this world, I’m actually concerned to introduce them to the others. Hoseok included, he will freak out at his cuteness for sure. - he said, and you had to agree chuckling, because that was a certainty. Well but I guess that, being Lisa’s cousin he met JiMin, and I’m pretty sure that’s as cute as one can get - even if Joons threatens to match up. 

- Yeah, we’ll see. Anyways, you need help to close up? - getting up you gathered your things, and being dismissed by your boss with a shake of his head, you then practically skipped the way back home, ready to come back and cuddle NamJoon - after a good shower, that is. 

The apartment was as quiet as always when you walked in, but you soon spotted NamJoon sitting on the couch, reading something while the TV was on in a low volume. You didn’t mind the TV, since it made him feel less lonely - you discovered that even if he said once he was fine by himself, those little things like turning the TV or music helped him a lot -, but  noticed he was squinting at the book, and made a mental note to propose him to go for an eye doctor later on the future. 

- Oh, you’re home early. Everyth... - as you plopped by his side - startling him, might you add - he frowned then sniffed the air once, tilting his head slightly to the side. 

- What happened? - you mimicked his expression, also trying to detect what he was smelling, as NamJoon continued to try the air around you. 

- There’s a different smell here... On you - you were startled when he leaned close to your face, eyes not really focused and absentmindedly grabbed your shoulders to keep you still while he snuffled around, getting closer to your neck every time. 

You wondered for a second if the smell of blood was still strong on you, or if he was detecting MinHyuk’s scent, until he growled under his breath, clutching the fabric of your shirt. 

- Who’s this guy? - you weren’t completely sure if he was asking you or himself till he looked up with a scowl and piercing, dominating stare towards you. 

- Oh right, ChangKyun-

- Why did he touched you? - his fingers gripped the wool of your shirt tighter, and you would think about being at least the tiniest scared if his face weren’t so close and his voice didn’t sounded so fucking good in your ears. 

- He hugged me goodbye, tha-that’s all... He’s a friend, Joonie. - you couldn’t  believe how weak your voice was and body completely paralyzed - again, not from fear, you didn’t thought yourself capable of fearing NamJoon at that point anymore -, pinned to the couch with his glare on your face. But as soon as you called by his nickname, his body kind of jolted like he got back to reality, and eyes refocused to look at yours, quickly averting as he started to get embarrassed by his actions. 

- Ah, yeah I’m sorry it’s that uh... I don’t know him and his smell is all over you it’s kind of annoying. - you had the urge to chuckle and, despite your attempts you couldn’t hold it back, snorting while you grabbed his hands reassuringly. It was kind of a safety measure and in a way it was cute - him being possessive for a second was ridiculously hot but you weren’t about to delve into that thought yet - but it was something he would have to get used to, more yet when you went to the Christmas party on Lisa’s home, where a lot of hugging people would be involved for you. I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable because my friends are touchy with me, but it’s good that this happened now. 

- It’s okay, I get it. But Joon - you started, squeezing his hands so he’d look at you. Timidly NamJoon glanced up, lower lip worrying between his teeth and ears flat on his head. - This will happen a lot from now on, you’ll meet a handful of my friends soon you know, at the Christmas party. I just want to give you this heads up because a lot of people will be touching me there. Including this one, which is a really good friend of mine. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable so... - trailing off you smiled at him, and NamJoon nodded, even if you noticed that the idea of other people getting close to you didn’t pleased him that much. But still he sighed, leaning to press his face on your shoulder, sniffing deeply, as to keep the smell on his memory. 

- Annoying. - he muttered, pouting. Giggling you rolled your eyes, and grabbed his head in an impulsive move, pressing his face between your palms and successfully squishing his cheeks so much his pout turned into something similar to those cute stuffed little chicks Lisa had gave you once in your birthday. 

- Would you feel better if I changed myself? - you asked, feeling his face grow hot while he nodded slowly, prompting you to cackle and press a kiss on his forehead. For the second time on that day NamJoon was stunned, and kept the gaped expression towards you as his eyes followed your figure walk away to the rooms. His reaction was actually really cute - and kind of flattering in a way, to see him that disarmed because of something so little - but you also knew that you couldn’t push it too far, even if the plumpness of his lips was so tempting all the time. NamJoon has to heal first. 

After the shower and a change of clean clothes, you were feeling much better, even though your uterus was still battling to death inside your body. But oh well, what it is to be a woman.

NamJoon was nowhere to be seen when you walked to the living room again, but you shrugged it off, thinking maybe he went to do something in his room, so you went up about your own business, busying yourself with making something tasty to eat - you lost your appetite at that time of the month, for some inexplicable reason -, since Joonie didn’t looked like he ate anything yet. 

The food was midway done and you were happily singing some song out of tune - NamJoon said it was cute once, but usually would lay his ears flat on his head with a small wince because of the disharmony -, and only then got worried for the hybrid’s absence, since that combination would generally make him come out from wherever he was.

- Joons? - you called out towards the hallway, frowning a little bit when no response came. Maybe he’s taking a nap. You guessed, but still something in your gut told to check on him. That’s why you turned the heat off and headed to his room, quietly stepping inside and looking around, but didn’t find any sign of him. Where can he be... You were about to shout his name when the sound of water running made you pause. Oh, he’s taking a shower, okay.

-... Never again this smell - you heard him grunt from the other side of the door and tilted your head, wondering what NamJoon could mean by that. Maybe Joon still has ChangKyun’s scent on his nose? He did said it was an annoying smell after all. Snickering you leaned to pick the clothes at the foot of the door, NamJoon was a tidy guy but he might have been really bothered by the smell to just drop his jacket and shirt on the floor like that. 

A high pitched keen followed, stopping your motions and you wondered when was the last time you heard NamJoon make that sound, only relating it to pain. The frown returned to your face as you got up, about to lean on the door to confirm you heard him correctly, but as you placed your hand on the wood, the door gaped slightly, not even being closed correctly. 

- Hey Jo-

- Y/N’s mine, don’t want other men’ smell, mine! - the snarl made all the hairs on your body stand, you’ve never heard NamJoon’s voice this dark, sure he’s the owner of the deepest voice you’ve ever heard, but that kind of violence in his voice was totally foreign to you. 

Movement caught your attention from the corner of your eye, and you glanced to your left, inside the gap the door provided you, meeting the mirror and a moving body on the reflection. NamJoon’s moving body. 

Stark naked, the reflection on the mirror displayed his sweaty body sitting on top of the toilet, tail spiked at his side and eyes shut close tightly, face scrunched in a deep scowl while he strained to not make any more sounds besides the eventual threatening growls under his huffs. With your jaw dropped, your eyes trailed down to where his hands rested, and recognized immediately that the thing covering the majority of his waist - or at least what he wasn’t holding so tightly -, as the wool shirt you have been using moments prior, the one that was with ChangKyun’s smell and that possibly triggered this whole situation. NamJoon was gripping the fabric tightly wrapped around what you thought to be his cock - again, the shirt didn’t let you see much -, while he slid it up and down with quick movements, the other hand gripping his base. As he whimpered again your thighs trembled, and you had to immediately twirl in your heels, pressing your back to the outer wall to try and breath out silently before you echoed his sounds. This is so wrong, so fucking wrong, oh my god. 

That was what you thought, but not in a way that disgusted you, no. Much the contrary... It almost scared you the way that image NamJoon gave you made your insides ache and throb, and how aroused you’ve become despite your period and all. You wanted NamJoon, and you wanted him bad. And the fact that you could still hear his groans and whines of your name, the threats and the claiming over you weren’t helping you in any way. 

But what am I supposed to do? This doesn’t mean I can do something about it, does it?

[clairekatswritingcorner]

Playtime

Word Count: 2,189

Summary: When a friend reaches out to her in need, Alexys agrees to lend her aid without question. Little does she know that she’s about to experience the introduction of a lifetime.

*Author’s Note*: A commission for @bad-blue-moon-rising! I don’t know a lot about the Venom comic series, but Toxin is such a cool character!! I loved his design and personality from the moment Alexys showed him to me, and I was happy to try my hand at writing a fun character like him. I hope you enjoy!

“Are you sure you’re really up for this?”

“Of course. Do you think I would have agreed otherwise?”

He wasn’t sure she knew exactly what she was getting into. Actually, he was positive she didn’t. That only made him feel worse, because as much as he wanted to explain things, words just weren’t going to suffice. That only left him with the option to show her what he was talking about, what he’d been dealing with, what he needed her help with right now. If there was anyone else he could turn to, he would have; he didn’t want to take advantage of the fact that he could count on her for anything. He knew she would always be there for him no matter how bad things got, or bizarre, in this case. But this was a kind of bizarreness that was possibly life threatening, far beyond the realm of reasonable expectation.

Alexys had agreed, and it was too late for him to change his mind. Because she was at his apartment now, sitting beside him on the couch, waiting for him to present her with whatever it was he needed her for. It was almost time for “playtime,” a time of day that Patrick had come to be quite wary of. During that time of day, he had little to no control over his actions…well, he really had no control over them at all. Because during that time of day, he was no longer the simple, commonplace cop Patrick Mulligan, but something much fiercer, and more intimidating, and more dangerous. Although he’d been doing his best to quell the qualities that resided within this other side of him, it was like swimming against a tsunami. That was just another example of how strong the being was.

Patrick hadn’t asked for any of this, he’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And he’d been paying for it ever since. On evenings like this one, the harsh reality of his situation hit him harder than any other time. Was it really safe for him to turn that creature over to Alexys’s care, without being able to rein it back in, or even stop it before it did something heinous or impulsive? He hadn’t had much success with that in the past, but again, he’d dug his own grave this time. There was no getting out of it, and he was just going to have to take the plunge and make do with the consequences, however they ended up playing out.

 “Pat? Is everything okay?” Alexys placed a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder, frowning when he flinched at her touch.

She couldn’t help feeling worried for her friend. He’d been more strung out than usual lately, more easily prone to panic, constantly distracted by something she couldn’t get him to talk about. If tonight was going to answer some of her questions about what was really going on with him, Alexys wasn’t going to allow him to even attempt to persuade her to leave. She got the impression he’d been dealing with whatever crisis he had on his hands alone, which only upset her more. Pat wasn’t the type of person that deserved to have to shoulder such a heavy burden by himself, especially when she knew he had a family who loved and supported him. What could be bothering him so severely that he didn’t even feel comfortable sharing it with them?

Maybe it was because the problem involved his family…but Alexys hadn’t heard a peep from his wife about anything being wrong between them. Other than Patrick’s shaky emotional state, days seemed to pass as uneventfully as always. So, when Patrick invited her over one evening to help him with something he said he couldn’t entrust to anyone else, she agreed without any hesitance. Now he was the one who seemed hesitant, looking for any excuse he could find to bow out at the last second…she wasn’t going to stand for that.

“Listen,” she squeezed his shoulder to get his attention, and he turned to face her. His eyes looked so distant, so disturbed…it was like he was already trying to apologize for something, like he knew he was about to unleash some sort of unforgivable ill upon her. “It’s going to be okay. No matter what it is, I’m not going to leave. I won’t even judge you, or make you explain anything. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, and I trust you. Things are going to be okay.”

They were the most reassuring words he’d heard in a while, even though he knew he couldn’t believe them. He sighed, feeling the urge start to overtake him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He was running out of time; he’d wasted so much of it lamenting the inevitable, throwing away the precious seconds he should have been using to warn her. “Alexys, I need you to listen to me. What I’m about to show you…it’s a little indescribable. Maybe a lot indescribable, and unbelievable. But it is irrefutably real, it exists…and I need you to keep him company for a bit.”

“Him?” Alexys cocked her head to the side. “Pat, I don’t understand—”

“I’m sure he’d be happy to explain it to you,” Patrick replied, his voice coming out in a strangled rasp. “His name is Toxin. I can tell you that much. Please, just do what you can to ensure he doesn’t do anything rash.”

“Toxin? Rash? You’re kind of starting to scare me—”

What happened next was the one true fright of the night. In a matter of seconds Patrick was swallowed up, the familiar man she’d been sitting beside replaced by…something entirely nonhuman. His body was absorbed and transformed by a gooey black and red substance, and Alexys yanked her hand away from his shoulder just before it reached her. She held her wrist nervously, wringing it a little out of anxious reflex. The creature now sharing this space with her was large and intimidating, but Alexys couldn’t help feeling a twinge of curiosity mixed up amidst all her other displaced emotions.

“Y—You’re…”

The creature looked down at her. He was at least a head or two taller than her just sitting; she was a little afraid of how big he’d really be if he stood up. The top half of his body was blood red, tendrils of whatever substance he was made of hanging from his arms and torso like charms on a windchime. The rest of his body was colored a stark pitch black, like a shiny latex body suit. His eyes were…big white crescents that curved up and wrapped around his head, and his hands were undeniably adorned with sharp, pointed claws.

“I am Toxin,” he answered for her as her words continued to fail her. It was like there was a traffic jam in her throat, a roadblock of words that had gotten tangled up with the frantic beating of her heart. “And you are Alexys, right?”

She stuttered helplessly, and Toxin cocked his head in the same manner she’d displayed mere moments ago. The longer she looked at him, the less scared she felt; visceral feelings of self-preservation were replaced with feelings of fascination, confusion, and awe. She was sitting beside a being one would only expect to see in something like a sci-fi or horror movie…and in the case of his appearance, she figured it would probably be one of the campier ones. She tucked her hair behind her ears and continued grasping for words that weren’t there. Toxin caressed the side of her face with a daunting claw not out of any desire of his own, but simply in imitation of what he’d just observed her doing.

She blushed helplessly, twirling a strand of her hair between restless fingers. “Yes, yes I am. I’m Alexys.”

“Pat has told me a lot about you,” Toxin explained, and although she couldn’t tell for sure, she swore he was smiling. “And I’ve seen a lot of you myself. Since I’m always with Pat…do you want to play?”

“Play?” she was back to being utterly confounded. “I don’t know what you mean…like video games or cards or something?”

“That isn’t usually how I play…but we could do some of that later, if you want,” he answered, and this time she was certain his mouth was curved up at the corners.

“Wait, wait.” She waved her hands at him with a halting gesture. “Before we get into any of that, I’d like you to explain some things.”

“Hm?” He seemed completely oblivious to her shock.

“What…are you? And what happened to Patrick? He’s not dead or anything, is he? And what do you mean by play? Does it have anything to do with what Patrick was telling me about playtime?”

“That’s a lot of questions,” he pointed out, just as a simple statement of fact. “I’m a symbiote. Patrick said that means I’m an alien compared to the other creatures on this planet, like humans and animals. That’s what my creators told me, too. So, I guess I’m an alien symbiote. Patrick isn’t dead, he’s just taking a break for a bit. I take full control of his body when I’m like this, so I can move and talk and be me for an hour or two. Even though it’s apparently common for symbiotes to be violent and eat people, I’m not allowed to do that. Patrick said I can have a couple hours of playtime each night as long as I promise not to do anything harmful or dangerous…so I still get to be myself, instead of being stuck dormant inside him all the time.”

Her mind was reeling, but Alexys was positive there was no way she could be introduced to such circumstances in a calm and rational way. Possessed by a man-eating alien that took over his body every night…what in the world had Pat done to get himself into this mess? It wasn’t like Alexys could ask any questions like that now, though, so she decided to return her attention to Toxin. He seemed…innocent. Or maybe inexperienced was a better word. Despite his size and speaking ability, she got the impression he was processing things like someone who had never really seen the world before. She couldn’t help finding something charming about that.

“If that’s how things are, what do you usually do during playtime?” She decided it would probably be best to give him the opportunity to coach her on a few things, too, since this was all completely new to her.

“As long as I don’t get caught, or cause any damage, I usually run around the city.” He didn’t seem to be interested in elaborating any further. “Patrick said that was a pretty okay thing to do.”

“Run around the city…” Alexys was trying to fathom exactly what that might mean. “So, you want me to do that with you?”

“Sure!” Toxin exclaimed with an excitement that caught her off guard, causing her to jump a bit. “I mean, you probably won’t be able to keep up, since you’re a human. But I can help with that. I don’t usually have anybody come with me, unless you count Patrick…but he’s unconscious most of the time, so I guess he doesn’t really count.”

“Ah, yeah, I guess,” she agreed, at a loss for any other way to respond. As he stood up, she realized the assumption she’d made before was correct; she really wasn’t prepared to see how tall he was when he stood up.

She followed his lead and rose from the couch, barely on her feet a few seconds before the symbiote made his next move. Without warning Alexys suddenly found herself hoisted off the ground and nestled in his arms in a much gentler manner than she ever would have anticipated. Toxin snickered, finding the tiny squeak she made as he picked her up amusing. He’d never been able to have a night like this, something fun and exhilarating, that he could share with another person. Another sentient, completely separate person from himself. He was sure that with her, this would be the most fun he’d had since he’d been so unceremoniously brought into existence.

“You ready?” he asked as he made his way to the nearest window.

Alexys clung to him out of impulse, feeling her throat go dry. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“We’re going out!” he responded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Before she could protest, he dove out of the apartment window with her, holding her securely as he jumped and climbed between a few of the closest buildings. As terrifying and spontaneous as this experience had been so far, Alexys swore she also felt like she was having a little bit of fun. Toxin was enigmatic and reckless and energetic, and all of that just made her like him more. She hoped that tonight wouldn’t be the last night they spent together like this.