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#Miss Sharp's Monsters
suzannahnatters · 2 years
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Subplot Romance
Over the years I've created some twitter threads on writing and history and I've decided it's a good time to start compiling and sharing them on this Tumblr. I'm going to tag them "writing".
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Here's what I've learned about writing subplot romance. (People who write genre romance probably already know this stuff. It's those of us who are mainly leavening romantic subplots into fantasy novels that need this info).
1. Romance = fundamentally character-driven. All internal conflict & internal growth. (Can these two trust each other? Will their character flaws drive them apart?) The more study you put into creating characters and building character arcs, the better your romantic writing.
A romance arc is not the SAME as a character arc, but it 100% NEEDS solid character work undergirding it.
2. Romance needs two ingredients: a compelling reason for the characters to be TOGETHER, & a compelling reason for them to be APART. This forms the conflict in the romance so do not skimp on either.
Eg, a common mistake in male-penned stories: female lead has no compelling reason to want male lead. "He's a good-looking warrior dedicated to winning her throne!" Yeah nah, she's literally surrounded by good-looking warriors dedicated to winning her throne, why's he different?
3. Romance needs chemistry = a believable spark of attraction. Something that blew my mind when I realised it: romantic chemistry =/= sexual chemistry. Sexual chemistry (purely physical attraction) is simply PART of romantic chemistry.
Romantic chemistry is a good deal broader. (Read/watch some good romances to see how chemistry is built by different storytellers. One fave of mine is the Romola Garai EMMA. Peerless friends-to-lovers chemistry. Watch the actors' body language; the way they gravitate to each other; the way their faces light up)
Chemistry tip A: if the driver behind sexual chemistry is lust, the driver behind romantic chemistry is trust. Protag needs/wants someone to trust. It's the way you play with trust/distrust that will create romantic tension.
eg: love interest holds protag's hand. With sexual chemistry, protag simply feels a jolt at the contact. With romantic chemistry, protag feels comforted and trustful - then betrayed when it turns out LI is tracking her pulse to see if she's lying to him (see: MISS SHARP 😇)
Chemistry tip B: if protag is falling for someone, that person should occupy their mind. LI should be mentioned/thought of each scene, even when absent. When present: LI consistently provokes unaccustomed emotion - either positive or negative, depending.
Chemistry tip C: make the characters their best/most lovable/most iconic selves when with each other. Quirkiness, smarts, hilarity. Make these the most fun character scenes in the book & the audience will ship them. Passionately.
4. Build romantic chemistry/attraction through escalating moments of trust and tension. If aiming for happily-ever-after(HEA)/for-now(HFN), then the overall arc is towards greater trust, but you need those moments of tension to give the big payoff scenes appropriate catharsis.
OTOH, if you're writing a tragic/backstabby romance, you need the trust/comfort moments in order to sell the big tragedy/betrayal.
5. Trust, comfort, & happiness are POWERFUL. This is what genre romance thrives upon. Even in dark/spiky stories, the most surprising thing in the story can be the moment when the LI DOESN'T betray the protag. That too can be wildly cathartic. Use it.
6. Just as character-driven skills help you with romance, so if you master romantic writing, you'll be better able to write ALL types of relationship - platonic, friendly, hostile.
OK that's all so far. Two book recs: ROMANCING THE BEAT by Gwen Hayes & THE HEROINE'S JOURNEY by Gail Carriger teach you the rules/expectations of genre romance so you'll know what the rules are for a happy romance subplot & how to break them for a tragic version.
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George from Miss Sharp's Monsters character of all time to me. He's incapable of being articulate. he's secretly a werewolf. He's been pining after a girl for years but accidentally convinced her to marry his brother before he realised he was in love with her. He agreed to fake dating said girl to protect her despite knowing full well she refused to ever marry him. He's heir to the British Empire. He managed to reject a full lifetime of being constantly told he deserved to be more powerful than everyone else and did the right thing despite. He's seriously not that bright. He tricked the most powerful group of people in Europe. He blushes at the least provocation. He objects to execution without a trial because it's "not cricket." He commits high treason and his main concern is that his fake girlfriend just admitted she's in love with him back. He is inexplicably capable of always pulling through when you need him most. What can't he do.
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Fanart for The Werewolf of Whitechapel, by Suzannah Rowntree. SUCH an excellent series!
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ihaveonlymydreams · 2 years
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Just finished what is probably going to be one of my favorite series this year:
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It's steampunk fantasy with werewolves and vampires yes, but that's just the description on the cover.
These are books about making hard choices, seeking justice in the face of what seems an entirely unjust world, building trust, struggling with forgiveness, grappling with the problem of fighting monsters while trying to avoid becoming one. They are also beautifully written, with a light, humorous touch and an excellent vocabulary (extremely refreshing to find Victorian characters not actually speaking modern lingo!)
TW for blood and violence (not overdone given the subject matter)
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my-craft · 10 months
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My take on the monster described at the end of jrwi ep.114!
The name is entirely un-official, but it was such a good critter, it looked like it needed a good name and some friends helped me come up with it. If it ever gets an official name, I’ll change it!
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pineapple-frenzy · 11 months
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Happy Halloween from hhu because monster is so halloween coded and such a banger!!!
Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na~
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lurking-latinist · 3 months
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I think @suzannahnatters might be reigning champion of writing Women Who Are Different From Each Other. Like you know sameface syndrome? The opposite of that, and in prose. Not only are all her characters fully realized individuals they’re all completely different fully realized individuals
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naffeclipse · 1 year
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Lost EP makes me just sad. Imagine Venessa finding Y/N or like ANYONE else that they knew. The kids they hung out with during hunts in other chapters come to mind. TwT
Imagine Vanessa coming upon Y/N in the middle of a feeding.
I'm sure she and they would all handle it well :)
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seaxdevil · 7 months
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Tag Dump: Relationships
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suzannahnatters · 1 year
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Ok so I wrote a whole steampunk trilogy about these two bejewelled idiots
so let me tell you about George V and Mary ("May") of Teck.
From the photo - woman dressed like a wedding cake, man wearing the Milky Way - you might think that this is a picture of privilege.
Well, yeah. You're right. Mostly.
Her name was Princess May, and she was Europe's least eligible spinster.
Although she was of royal blood, May was descended from a "morganatic" marriage - her grandfather on her father's side had married a commoner - in fact, a countess (gasp!) - on condition that their children would not inherit his small German duchy. May's two aunts never married, because no self-respecting German prince would be seen dead in a ditch marrying the offspring of a mere countess. May's father got lucky because over in England, Queen Victoria was struggling to cope with her cousin, MARY ADELAIDE. Mary Adelaide was fat, thirty-two, unmarried, more popular than the queen, and completely uncontrollable. Under the circumstances, the discovery of an unattached prince too beggarly to be picky was an absolute godsend. The English were too broadminded to care about the countess, and nobody else (as someone joked unkindly) would "venture on so vast an undertaking."
The marriage was happy, but extravagant. By the time May was 16, the family was so deeply in debt that they had to run away from England to avoid their debtors. For the next two years they lived in Italy, where May was able to get an excellent education in art history, languages, singing, and painting.
After returning to England, May took an interest in visiting the poor and collecting funds for charities. Serious, diligent, and intelligent, May hoped that one day she would have an important role to play in the world…but how? She was not royal enough to marry into royalty, but she was much too royal to marry beneath her.
It was Queen Victoria who decided to play the fairy godmother. One day, quite unexpectedly, she invited May to join her at Balmoral. Several days later, Prince Eddy also arrived. Eddy was Victoria's grandson, third in line to the throne, and thus (if you overlooked the affairs with married women, and the scandals, and the venereal disease, and the sub-zero IQ) the most eligible bachelor in the whole British Empire. In Victoria's opinion, what the future King of England needed most was a good, smart, steady wife. She'd already tried to arrange several other matches for Eddy, including one with Princess Alix of Hesse (who would go on to marry Tsar Nicholas II of Russia, a match which would in no way help to precipitate a violent revolution and end in a hail of bullets, blood, and diamonds), but all of them had failed. Now, she thought May would do.
Perhaps May thought it was her only chance to achieve lasting financial security. Possibly she agreed with Victoria that the future of the British Royal Family depended on Eddy marrying someone with half a brain. Maybe she even hoped for love. When Eddy proposed, May accepted.
Just weeks before the wedding, May was staying at Sandringham for Eddy's 28th birthday celebrations when he came down with influenza. The next day, he developed pneumonia. Five days later he was dead.
More than a hundred years later, we can be excused for looking back and feeling that both May and the whole British Empire dodged a significant bullet there. To Eddy's family, it was a crushing tragedy. One who mourned him was Eddy's younger brother, a steady, hard-working, unimaginative naval officer named George. Prince George was not just dull as dishwater and nearly as badly educated as his brother, he was also significantly healthier, smarter, and more disciplined. Now, with George taking Eddy's place as heir to the throne, many immediately began to think that George should take Eddy's bride as well. After all, Queen Victoria had already gone to the trouble of vetting and approving May, and why should all that work go to waste?
Among those who thought so were May's own parents. When Eddy's family went on holiday to the south of France to grieve in peace, May's parents packed up their daughter and followed. George dutifully called on the family, and over the next few months, as May travelled around Europe, she and George corresponded via letter. Emotionally constipated as he was, George had grown used to writing heartfelt notes to his deaf mother. May was also painfully shy. Signs were against them, but the two managed to become engaged in 1893 after significant prodding from both their families. Shortly afterwards, they exchanged these hilariously awkward letters:
MAY: I am very sorry that I am still so shy with you. I tried not to be so the other day, but alas failed, I was angry with myself! It is so stupid to be so stiff together and really there is nothing I would not tell you, except that I love you more than anybody in the world, and this I cannot tell you myself so I write it to relieve my feelings.
GEORGE: Thank God we both understand each other, and I think it really unnecessary for me to tell you how deep my love for you my darling is and I feel it growing stronger and stronger every time I see you; although I may appear shy and cold.
The rest, of course, is history. George married May in 1893 and in 1910 they succeeded to the throne as King George V and Queen Mary of Teck. In between ruling the colonies with a rod of iron (George), amassing a small fortune in fabulous diamonds (May), and wearing some of the era's most luscious fashions (both) the two of them remained as deeply in love as ever. When George took a dive in a newfangled invention named a submarine, May, standing on the Portsmouth quay, could not repress a passionate effusion of concern:
"I shall be very disappointed if George doesn't come up again."
ALSO May had a dollhouse that was a miniature copy of their home! The library contained VERY TINY BOOKS by literary luminaries such as Oscar Wilde and Rudyard Kipling! AND over the bed in the main bedroom there was a tiny sign hanging - "May George? - George May." I'm sorry but I love them. I'm not sorry at all for all the grand silly fun I had writing them both in Miss Sharp's Monsters. Though I'm afraid that at no stage was the real Princess May impersonated by a clever clockwork automaton containing a bomb intended to blow up Queen Victoria. I made that part up.
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NOT KILL THE MONSTERS NOT ALLOW THEM TO CONTINUE BUT A THIRD SECRET THING (MAKE THEM HUMAN AGAIN)??????
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milkymars · 2 months
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Everything we know about Bill Cipher's past so far
His home was called Euclydia and it was entirely two dimensional. ("Flat minds in a flat world with flat dreams.")
Bill was unique among his people because he had a mutation that allowed him to see the third dimension. This can mean that either a) Euclideans don't have eyes and Bill is the only one who had one or b) if they did have eyes, he literally had a third eye.
Bill's parents were most likely named Scalene and Euclid. Entering either of their names into the computer gives the prompt LIFE FORM NOT FOUND. Bill is stated to only draw red and blue triangles in art therapy, so those were probably their appearances.
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From the code JUSTFITIN, you get this colour-coded poem:
Rock a bye billy Please don’t you cry It’s not your fault You have that strange eye Stay safe with mommy You’ll never fall And we’ll always love you Sharp angles and all
Bill says that everyone in Euclydia loved him. However, it's more likely that he was feared because of his mutation and talk of a third dimension. Bill has said numerous times that love and fear are the same, and if you enter WELLWELLWELLBEING into the computer:
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Bill's parents took him to a doctor to help suppress his vision of the third dimension. This has been discovered through the codes on the silly straw page:
Fussy eater, baby Billy / Wouldn't drink unless it's silly The doctor says three sips a day / Will make the visions go away Eye doctor of a different kind / Who wants to make his patient blind Twisted out of shape after the kill / The ghosts of his family are haunting him still
Bill is responsible for the Euclidean massacre. Reversed audio on the website says that "the sky is on fire", and when Bill talks about liberating his dimension, his eye shows a fiery landscape too. Though he claims to have liberated them both in Weirdmageddon and the transmission with Time Baby, he is regretful and misses home. If you type in EVENHISLIESARELIES, you get a transcript of one of his sessions in the theraprism.
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And from the axolotl's poem in Curse of the Time Pirate's Treasure:
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When he tells Ford about his home dimension, he says that it was destroyed by a monster. And when Ford says that he could seek out the monster and get revenge on it, Bill replies: "Sixer, it would eat you alive." Bill also says that if he tries to talk about the day Euclydia was destroyed, there's a loud buzzing in his ears and he blacks out for 30 seconds. Still, he tells others that he freed everyone and that they are grateful for it. Until he gets drunk and starts calling out for his mom, asking her where she went...
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cipheramnesia · 6 months
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The Dungeon Meshi character I think about the most, not love the most but think about most, is Chilchuck. He is much more Some Guy than anyone else, he's got a wife and kids and he's gonna open a store. He's a little dude with sharp senses who knows about locks and traps, and it's all very straightforward compared to like, really anyone else in the manga.
But why I'm fascinated is that his whole core essence revolves around organization and function, around safety not in the sense of cowardice or excess caution, but in the sense of a deeply rooted belief that everyone deserves to live and everything has a place. One day he'll open a shop and retire but right now his people are being exploited and he needs to plan for his future, so he's unionizing half foots and reducing risk and that functions for society because it's dumb using the guy watching your back as bait. It's a broken system he has to fix.
And it's like that with Laios and Senshi and Marcille and Falin. Falin dies, it's a broken system, she was a vital component that kept the group healthy. Eating monsters departs from the system, it's wrong to him, but then he figures out how Senshi has created a new system with better survivability. Senshi interrupts his trap hunting and he goes ballistic because that's not how the system survives. Itzutsumi drives him bonkers because she refuses to be a part of his system. Laios' lack of people skills frustrates him because Laios' charisma has made him a leader. A leader needs to know how to see how people feel, and Laios can't do that.
I think a lot about how his approach and personality are so nicely interwoven with his skill at traps and exploration. Everyone else has big weird personalities, but Chilchuck, well he's not a cool head per se, but his weirdness is less grandiose. He's a puzzle guy, a problem solver, and everyone around him is a moving part he's trying figure out. People ditch the party early on and he's not bothered because that's mechanically sound. Laios and Marcille go back and he has to come too because they're more than friends, they're a part of something that works and survives and even missing a part, he knows he can keep this little machine running. But they won't thrive without him, and he won't work as well alone.
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jaewritesfic · 2 months
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Melon!AU
Actual writing now, based on this post:
“What,” Tim breathes out faintly, “the fuck is that?”
Language, Bruce thinks faintly, though he doesn't manage to get it past his lips.
He is a man who prides himself on being ready for anything, but he most certainly didn't expect something like this when responding to the Batsignal tonight.
“That is a Pit Demon,” Damian's voice asserts through comms, grave in a way that betrays his collected mask. He's unnerved. “There is nothing else that could be.”
Bruce is unnerved too, though he refuses to show it.
Gordon had half the block cordoned off so no civilians would come through by the time Bruce and Tim - the closest at the time - had arrived on scene. The alley itself is blocked in by police cruisers, though the officers are staying very firmly behind the line and not approaching.
It's no wonder why.
The…thing backed into a dead end alley looks like it's made of smoke and shadow, all long sinuous lines and dangerous angles.
It's vaguely Humanoid in the sense that it has a long torso, arms and a head. The arms are too long, the fingers curved and wickedly sharp. The face is a well of deep shadow, a smooth slate broken only when it opens its jagged mouth to show off a full arsenal of fangs.
The only other facial features are the solid, glowing Lazarus green eyes. Wide and lamp-like, they give the distinct feeling that the creature's sights will not miss anything.
There are no legs. Just the sinuous curves and overlaps of a long smokey tail. It whips about with agitation.
Floating like mist on the water is a head of white hair, edges fuzzy and undefined like it can't decide whether it's a solid or a gas.
The creature lays with its chest nearly flat to the ground, propped up only by those horrifically sharp hands and poised like a predator ready to push off into a sprint.
Glowing Lazarus water seems to pool slowly beneath it, streaked here and there as evidence of past movement.
Bruce finally finds his tongue to question Damian. He can see his youngest standing on the opposite roof of he and Tim, the two buildings that form the alley their perch.
“You've seen something like this before?”
Damian hesitates. “...no. But there are stories of things coming out of the Pits. I doubt I need to explain why this seems to be one of them.”
With that color green shining out of its face and streaked across the alley? No. No, he doesn't.
“Do your stories have any clues on what to do when one shows up?” Tim asks, unable to tear his eyes away from the creature.
Damian scoffs. “Close your eyes and hope your end is quick.”
“Lovely,” Tim bites out, voice a little higher pitched than normal.
“We won't be doing that,” Bruce responds dryly, two taps coming through the comms notifying them of Black Bat's arrival.
Bruce looks up and has to search for her for a few seconds before he can make her out in the shadows of Damian's rooftop.
“I'm still five minutes out,” Dick comms in. “What exactly are we looking at here? Can Oracle give a visual with any cams?”
“I wish,” Oracle chimes in. “Even through the mask footage I have no idea what they're seeing. The feed is corrupted to hell and back whenever it's in frame.”
“Really? In person it looks like-”
Tim is cut off when the officers below make some kind of movement the monster clearly takes issue with, the snarl that almost physically ricochets off the brick walls making everyone wince.
It's like TV static and the crackle of lightning striking a tree, like glaciers cracking and shifting underwater all rolled into one.
The hair on the back of Bruce's neck stands on end.
“Fuck. It's like a living shadow, but all sharp and wrong and angry-”
“No,” Cass cuts in quietly, silencing everyone.
“...Black Bat?” Bruce questions lowly.
“Not angry,” she responds, as sure as ever when assessing a target - no matter what kind of target.
“Scared, hurt. Guarding chest, trying to hide it. Wants to scare us away, but making no move to attack. Posturing.”
The thing about Cass is that they trust her reads implicitly - her reads of people.
She wouldn't speak up if she wasn't certain, and she wouldn't be certain if she didn't see something painfully human in the creature below.
“...what do you suggest?” Bruce asks after a moment of tense silence, trying to reassess the creature and see what she sees.
He at the very least wants her opinion, so they can weigh it in formulating a plan here.
Cass keeps looking for a long moment, before she looks across the gap at him. “Needs help. Reach out - at least try.”
Masterpost
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Things about the Wisdom Saga that have plagued me all damn day
Legendary
Whether intentional or not, Miguel's Telemachus really sounds like a younger version of Jorge's Odysseus. And that hurts.
"If I fight those monsters, is it you I'll find?" The layers. Could he go out and hunt for his father? Could he find his 'legendary' strength within himself? Or will Odysseus be the 'monster' he finds?
"Somebody help me, come and give me the strength" And his call is answered T_T
20 years.
Antinous fully interrupts this bop. Rude.
Ayron sounds legitimately scary and Telemachus taking a stand is so O.O
Little Wolf
I wanna fight this guy. Love that Athena agrees. (The beat of the song and sharp bursts of vocals really emulate blows.)
The quaver on "I don't know how".
Athena is immediately charmed by Telemachus' enthusiasm. She sounds so fond.
The fact she sees heart in him as an advantage when it was Odysseus choosing heart over mind that drove them apart. Guh.
Did she tell him to bite Antinous? XD
"Oh, maybe I pushed you a bit too hard." The change in her perspective is already so apparent - she wouldn't have admitted a mistake or miscalculation to Odysseus.
We'll Be Fine
"I had a friend before..." A FRIEND? FRIEND?!?!
An admission that she didn't fully appreciate what Odysseus was going through, that she feels guilty for having "missed it all".
It's unclear to begin with if she's come to Telemachus for Odysseus, or to try and replace him. Both are equally heart-breaking.
"I don't know who your friend is, I don't know what he's like" UNKNOWINGLY ECHOING HIS OWN THOUGHTS IN 'LEGENDARY'. NO IT'S FINE I'M FINE.
"The best day of my life because I got in a fight and I didn't die! :D" Telemachus, child, please.
"We'll be fine" using the same run as "this is my goodbye" T_T
Him immediately offering up friendship to Athena, like Odysseus once did, must hit her so hard. "You're a good kid." Yes he is - because he's more like his dad than he knows.
Love in Paradise
"Old friend..." FRRRRRIIIIEEEENNNNNDDDDD!!!!!
10 years.
The memory fragments sounding so fraught and chaotic together, hitting harder because they're hitting Athena all at once. She missed a lot.
"She's my wife." "Anyways..." Calypso, girl, please.
Love that they're singing completely different melodies through the first half of this song for two reasons: because Odysseus is revisiting previous motifs, once more trying to hold onto the man he was, and also because it shows Calypso is not willing to compromise on what she wants.
"Last I checked goddesses can't die." We'll come back to this later.
Then Odysseus realises he is truly trapped and he sings along to Calypso's melody in muted horror.
POLITIES OUT HERE STILL HAUNTING THE NARRATIVE.
Just the words "open arms" are enough to confront Odysseus (again) with all he's lost. All he hears are screams.
And the one he screams out for is Athena.
"He needs my help." NO KIDDING GO GET YOUR BOY.
God Games
"Father, God, King..." There's a lot to unpack in that fun family dynamic.
"To untie apprehensions that were placed on that Greek?" Zeus is like, nobody likes that guy, why do you care?
The gods being called out like X Factor finalists is everything.
So there's a great contrast against the previous song - unlike Calypso, Athena is matching each of her singing partners with their tone and beat as she convinces them. She isn't winning by 'imposing her will', she's meeting them where they are.
Rational arguments work until Aphrodite, where Athena says "please" for the first time. She softens to appeal to Aphrodite, which is why Ares has to step in.
The way she says his name XD
Ares' lines sound like as much of a fighting chant as 'Little Wolf' did, which makes it all the better that the mention of Telemachus is what gets her to 'fight back'.
"His son's my friend!" YES HE IS. And Athena of all people declaring "a broken heart can mend" is fascinating. Can't help but wonder if she's talking about herself coming around to forgiving Odysseus.
"Never once has he cheated on his wife." Handwaving the source material is worth it for this line ALONE.
Zeus is so pressed by everyone openly knowing he cheats on Hera. Stop doing it then my dude.
Ares sounding genuinely concerned for Athena is doing things to me. Goddesses can't die, huh?
Her time motif flitting in and out like a weak heartbeat.
The soft piano of 'Warrior of the Mind', touching on a whisper of 'Legendary', then rising to a triumphant crescendo as Athena regains herself. I will be forever haunted by visions of Odysseus and Telemachus helping her to her feet.
And then, finally, she faces her own father and begs. Because Odysseus and Telemachus deserve a chance to be father and child.
The parallel, by the way, of Athena entering this saga to help an outnumbered Telemachus, and now closing it with him/Odysseus unknowingly helping her win her own battle too. JORGE HOW DARE YOU T_T
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beautifulpaprika · 2 months
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A Beast and a Bracelet (m)
pairing: fem!reader x beast!jk
warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, in the forest!
summary: You tried saving someone ... again. However, this group is large and bloodthirsty, and trying to lose them in a forest isn't working. Yet, when you find a cave, it seems to be your saving grace. Not because of what's in it, but who's in it.
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Branch after branch hits me in the face- my hair getting caught in the branches more than once as I run from the group of men after me. 
“Stay out of the business of men, Y/N,” my father always told me. Of course, when I spotted the ready-to-beat-a-man in front of his children, I couldn’t sit back and chug a pint. I had nothing better to do. I didn’t think through the part where there were three of them and one of me. 
The plan was running into the forest where the monster stories came from- stories of missing people and blood trails - in hopes they would be too afraid, but by the footfalls following close behind, I can safely determine they are not as fearful as I am of the forest. 
I have no navigation in the pitch black and wood. My lungs feel ready to give up on me, and the noises I hear on my left sound a lot like something ready to pounce on me. But I keep running. 
“Come on, brave one! You wanna jump in to our business? We can do this right now!” One of the men calls from behind me. I’m astounded they have the air to be able to catch up and yell at the same time. 
I attempt a look behind me, my eyes glancing at a small light catching up. Panic rises in me and boils over, tears welling in my eyes, making finding safety even more difficult. 
There’s a dark mass ahead- a cave surrounded by weeds and vines. Pictures of monsters with sharp teeth and blood dribbling down their chin appear in my mind. 
“Get her!” one man calls out. They’re on my tail and I have to make a decision. 
One foot in front of the other until it’s pitch black in the cave. My footsteps echo off of the cave wall and I almost slip in the mud. The sound of splashing water urges me to turn back. Something is in here, and it’s not a bunny. 
I stick close to the wall, unmoving.
Unfortunately for me, a light shines in the cave. 
“There you are,” the one in front says. They all have a hungry look in their eyes that tells me everything I need to know about their intentions.
My eyes sting from the tears welling. I should’ve listened to my father. I should’ve kept to myself. 
The frontman grabs my arm, but I scream when his touch is gone as soon as it’s there. 
Growling mixing with agonizing screams draws my attention. The light is suddenly gone -it’s pitch black and I hear the nervous panting of the other two men. 
The screaming stops and my breath catches, not wanting the creature to hear me. It’s not a second longer when the screams start up and the crunching of bones and ripping and tearing of skin join it. 
The gurgle from the second man doesn’t stop before the third one follows. The screams and noises last for a few moments longer. When it stops, I close my eyes. I’m preparing for the death that is to come, asking any forces out there to grant a quick death and for my father to never have to find me. 
A huff in front of my face pushes my hair from my face. 
I hate the pathetic whimper I give to the creature. 
Its breathing is heavy and similar to that of a dog. 
“I’m sorry I intruded,” I whine, “I didn’t know where else to go,” I whisper. It feels useless to ask for mercy from a creature that most likely can’t understand me. 
However, it doesn’t seem as impossible as I thought when the huffing retreats from me. The hot air is gone, and I’m out of breath when I hear a splashing again- just like the one I heard when I came in.
I squint my eyes, trying to see rather than hear. 
There’s a new panting sound coupled with coughing and spitting, but it sounds human. Nothing like the creature growling deep while it tore men to pieces. 
Feet slap the wet floor, and I continue to hold my breath, not wanting to make any sudden movements. 
“I know you’re there,” a voice calls. It doesn’t sound menacing or annoyed- more matter-of-fact than anything. Rustling sounds move from my right side to across from me. 
A light appears, causing me to cover my eyes with my arm to adjust to the sudden brightness. 
“A ‘thank you’ would have been nice,” the same voice is right in front of me now. I slowly lower my arm, not wanting to be bombarded by light again. 
My eyes glide up to be met with a man’s curious gaze. The light shows off his raised eyebrows and glistening chest. His dark hair sticks to the sides of his face. He must have been the one who was making all the water sounds. I come back down, looking past his legs to the three bodies behind him. I gasp at their state. Torn limbs, popping eyes, frozen faces of shock. 
“Oh, that,” he grimaces. “That is quite the mess I’ll have to clean,” he mumbles. 
“Who are you?” I look back at him. “Did you do that? How-“
”None of these words sound like appreciation,” he crouches down, his head tilting. “Should I have let them have their way with you?” He asks. I look past him again, a rage boiling inside men from the thought of those torn-up hands being on me instead. I shake my head. 
“I’m grateful,” my voice is low. 
“Good enough for now,” he gets up again, moving back to the space across from me. “You can go,” he announces and I’m caught off guard by it. 
That’s it? 
He sets the light down as I stare in amazement. He’s already heaving one body over his shoulder without a struggle.
I slap myself for gawking at his back muscles and the marred skin as he takes one body and starts to carry it out. 
The half-naked man stops in his tracks and slowly turns to me. 
“You can leave at any time, bunny.” I have to stop myself from flinching at the pet name. 
My mind becomes dizzy at the choices of staying or going. This man is new, a mystery, and I can’t help but be curious. He’s the one who saved me and I’m supposed to walk out as if nothing happened? 
“I’d like to help,” before he can reject my offer, I’m picking up a ripped-off arm and a toe tossed away. Nausea rises in my body up to my throat, but I hold it back before I make even more of a mess. 
I’m ready to follow the man out, but his body is fully turned to me now, the body still on his shoulder. I try avoiding his stare by walking past him, but he blocks me. 
His eyes scan me from top to bottom. I shiver under his wandering eyes. 
“What are you doing?”
”It’s the least I could do for intruding your. . . space,” I refer to the cave. “And it’s obvious you saved me from imminent death . . . And worse,” I gulp, and his eyes follow the movement in my throat. 
I wait for him to say anything or reject my offer, but he doesn’t. He turns, the dead expression of the man on his shoulders flinging towards me. I gag at the wounds down his face. 
“If you’re going to do that the whole way, I suggest you go home instead,” he tells me. 
I shake my head, despite the fact that he can’t see me. 
We trek out into the forest, carrying our bodies (and body parts). The lamp attached to his pants lights the way, but I can’t help looking at the way it drags his pants down his hips a tad. His skin is dry now and I notice the scars down his back more easily. 
“You’ll need to clean up afterward,” he says before throwing the body in an empty spot between some trees. “Going home from this forest will have questions thrown at you enough, but coming back with blood? You won’t survive,” he explains. 
I throw the hand and toe on the spot. 
“You sound like you speak from experience,” it’s as if I have a death wish making such a suggestion, but he laughs it off. Maybe I’m not incorrect. After all, there’s a reason he lives in the cave. 
He doesn’t say another word but turns to return to the cave. 
“How long have you been out here?” I try to break the silence. He gives me a look. “You have a made bed and some supplies in that cave of yours, your hair is-” he gives me another look and I stop talking. The hair must be a sensitive topic.
“It's been a few years. . .” 
The shock in my body slows my walking down. Years? 
“Did you run away from home?” 
“Something like that,” he shrugs. 
I don't ask any more questions for fear of seeming more intrusive than I already am.
“Where is your pond of water?” I ask, trying to fling some of the blood on my fingers. 
He freezes at the question. 
“You have one. I heard it,” I walk further into the darkness, hoping to find the small body of water. 
I notice something glistening and take a step towards it. 
But then my feet lose their balance and my back is against the wall. Air leaves my lungs when the man’s face crowds mine, his hands caging me on both sides. 
“Don’t. Touch. That. Water,” he’s panting and I can only see the left side of his face. The anger and anxiety cinching every feature.
I notice the splotch of blood sitting on his eyebrow and lick my finger to rub it off.
He flinches when my finger touches him, but his eyebrow doesn’t relax. 
“I won’t touch it,” I promise. “I apologize,” I plea that he accepts the apology- my life being at risk and whatnot. 
“You don’t owe me anything. Go home,” he breaks away from me turning to gather the next body. 
“How do I know they won’t come for you? That you’ll be okay?” He freezes on the spot again. “I want to help!” I confess. I don’t want to prove my father right. Not about not being able to defend myself and not about being useless to this world. 
He doesn't say a word but looks back at the body left torn on the ground. It's enough to answer my question. 
“I think I'll be alright,” he says. He makes his way out of the cave and I follow after him. 
“There are more guys then where that came from, I can promise you that! They’ll come looking,” I try. I try to convince him tha t we need each other. My hope is that he says yes and lets me figure out the mystery that he is. 
“I handled three and I’ll handle more,” he grunts as he throws the body into the spot. 
“How do you know people won’t find this?” I gesture to the pile of limbs. 
“It’s still night. The monsters will take care of it. Monsters worse than me,” he says with a  low voice, staring directly at me. The words do as he intended. With a shiver running down my spine, I’m officially afraid. 
“I’ll go home,” I tell him, turning away ready to follow the tracks home. 
“You do that,” he makes his way back to the cave. 
“I‘ll be back tomorrow!” I call. 
“No, you won’t!” He calls back before disappearing into the dark. 
***
I keep my promise to return. This time I bring bread and treats with me, hoping something sweet is enough to tame the beast. I’m not sure what kind of beast he really is, but what does it matter if he doesn’t hurt me?
It’s clear I haven’t learned my lesson last night by getting into “men’s business”. This man is only half man, so it counts. I suppose. 
A leaf crunches behind me, and I swivel to confront whoever’s following me, but Im only met with the sight of a misty forest wind moving through grass and dirt. 
“Y-yeah! You better not fuck with me!” I cringe at my voice wavering on the swear word. 
“You really spooked them away, bunny,” a deep chuckle sounds behind me. 
I swirl to look at the scarred man, a smirk spreading across his face. He approaches me casually, like any man on the street would- except he has no shirt, and his hair is still tousled, and his pants are ripped in different areas. 
“Your anxiety is palpable,” he says, tilting his head at me, while tapping a finger top my chin. 
“I’m not scared of anything,” I lie. 
“I know your idea here is to be brave, but you can’t be brave if you have nothing to fear,” his hand taps the sack hanging in my hand. “What’s this?” he asks. 
I hold the bag to him, the smell of fresh bread and cake wafting around us. 
“For you,” I push it towards him as his eyebrow lifts. “I don’t have any money, but my father and I can bake pretty well,” I shove it towards him again, but he continue s to stare at me. “Yes. It’s a bribe, but I’d like to show you that this team,” I point to him and myself, “can work out pretty well.”
“And why do you want to be a team?” he asks, his arms crossing over his chest, his biceps protruding. I gulp at them, then catch myself looking back at the man. The smirk tells me he noticed me checking him out. 
“I’d like to do more in town, but with the risk of being killed, I can’t do it as much as I’d like. I want your help. For protection,” I propose. I realize the more I talk, the more my body caves in. I quickly adjust to lift my chin and he chuckles at me. 
His eyes narrow, then surprise. I try to process the shock on his face.
“You-” his arms uncross and I wait for his words. 
“What?” I ask. His eyes cut deep into mine and I suddenly feel awkward in my spot. 
He relaxes again, back to his normal composure. “You’ve got a deal,” he announces. Before I can ask him what that was, he’s already turning away and heading in the opposite direction. I try to make out some of the shapes in his back.
I quickly avert my eyes when he looks back at me and start to follow him.
“I brought some other things as well,” I show the bag in my other hand. “Another peace offering, but also . . . basic hygiene,” I shake the bag in excitement. The girls in town never let me braid their hair, but it’s alright. There’s someone who needs my services more anyway. 
He doesn’t say much, only continues to walk and even cleans sticks and rocks from the ground. 
“It’s a bit useless to clean the forest isn’t it?” I ask. 
“It’s meant to be a path, so that you can easily find your way back and forth,” his words catch me off guard. It’s a small gesture, but it’s nice to know he’s keeping me in mind when he does. 
I gawk at him for a few moments longer until the noise of running water breaks me out of the trance. We come up on a small creek dug into the ground. This is no cave. 
“I didn’t see this last night,” I whisper. 
“We didn’t come here last night,” he points out. I give him a questioning look, for him to answer in a shrug, “You said you have a few things for hygiene and a couple of treats - let’s have a picnic, bunny,” I shake my head at the nickname. 
“Why do you call me that?”
“I’m big. You're small. I thought that was obvious,” he raises a branch for me and I pass through. 
“It wasn’t that obvi-”
“Where did you say you came from?” he suddenly asks from behind me. 
“I come from the town just outside of here,” I tell him, turning to face him. He hums in answer. “Have you ever been there? It’s right outside of this forest,” his face scrunches, contemplating. 
“I’m from the cave, that’s it. Now that we’ve gotten introductions out of the way-” he pulls the torn-up pants down his legs and I gasp at the muscles on him. He could crush a man’s head with those thighs. “Let’s get to that wash,” he says, a hint of excitement touching his tone. 
He steps down, slowly, into the water.  
I put a fingertip in the water. I hiss at the cold, but he seems entirely unphased. He seems to enjoy it if anything. 
I admire the way he’s able to bask in the cold water. 
“Alright, what’s next, bunny? Where’s the soap at?” he calls. 
“How do you know about soap?” I had assumed he never joined society. I gather my bag, bringing out soap, sponge, a hairbrush, and a pair of nail clippers. I grab the hairbrush first, waving him over.
“I haven’t always been out here,” he explains, slowly making his way towards me. His back faces me, and despite him being taller than me, I still can’t reach him at a comfortable position. 
“Can you just . . . come a little closer?” I reach again, only able to reach so far without falling into the water. 
He leans backwards, not able to step back without slipping on the tilted creek floor. I reach for his hair, and I’m able to brush it, but the angle is uncomfortable. I try to brush the strands lower, by his neck, but my arms quickly tire. 
“Hold on- Just-” I say, trying to fix my posture. 
His head turns to give me a side-eye, and I watch him roll his eyes. 
“I know something that might help,” he gestures to me to lean over just a bit more. I try my best to have my body hover over the water without falling in. 
The man leans over to grab me underneath my arms - my scream muffled by the water rushing into my mouth. My feet are able to reach the ground and thrust me to the surface. 
My ears fill with the sound of his laughter once they clear out. I turn to him slowly, the cold water causing my eyes to twitch and my body to shiver . . . Or is that the anger? 
“What is wrong with you!” I swear the birds get spooked at my yelling. “I am trying to help.”
“You're trying to butter me up. I already said I would do what you asked, there’s no need to cater to me any more,” his arms reach up to brush his hair back, but his fingers catch easily in the knots. “I brush with my fingers,” he says, proudly. 
Despite my anger, I draw closer to him, his breathing slowing as he looks down at me. 
“While brushing with fingers could work . . .” I start. I grab his arm and pull him to where his back is facing me again. I try not to stare at the obvious scars in different sizes and shapes running down his back. “It’s not going to do all the work. Trust me, the brush will make you feel lighter.” The weight of my clothing drags me down a smidge but I ignore it. I start at the bottom of his long, dark strands. I expect to hear a ‘hiss’ or feel a flinch on some of the knots, but he doesn’t. He actually seems relaxed. His head leans back and a hum occasionally sounds from him. 
I pour more water on his head, following the line down his spine until it meets the water at his waist. I admire hsi figure, dragging a finger down the same path as the water, sometimes detouring to some of the scars. 
I kick myself out of the trance, and when I look back up to focus on the hair again, his head is already slightly turned to look at me. 
“Um, I’m sorry. I got curious,” I admit. 
“About?”
“What your skin would feel like. I don’t think I’ve seen so many scars,” I say. His eyebrows pinch. “I don’t mean that as a bad thing. It’s new. And intriguing. And you should tell me about them,” I add a smile, hoping it’s enough to convince him. 
“You ask for a lot. I’ve saved your life, isn’t that enough from me? If anything I should be asking you for more,” his arms cross. I snort at how pouty it makes him look. 
“Well, I’m brushing your hair aren’t I? You know how many other men’s hair I’ve brushed?” 
He turns in genuine interest. 
“No one. No other man’s hair! And!” I reach for the bag sitting on the edge of the creek, ready to fall in. I dig through the bag, revealing another gift - a bar of lavender soap. “How many people have I given soap to? Zero,” I push it towards him, the bar leaving white residue on my fingers. 
He reluctantly takes it, eyeing it, then me, then it. 
“I’m not sure this is the compliment you-”
“Ungratefulness is not very becoming of you,” I interrupt. 
His eyes peer up at me from under his eyelashes. “I’m still a bit sore, you know, from saving your life,” he says. I nod in understanding. “I’ll need help using this,” he hands me the bar. 
I freeze my hands from playing with the water. I scan his face for any sign of joking, but he continues to hold it to me. 
I take it, and he steps closer immediately, his body towering over mine. My attempt at not appearing nervous doesn’t work. 
“I’ll do it if you can answer one question,” I tell him. He rolls his eyes but agrees. “Why is the water in the cave off-limits but the creek isn’t?” He’s initially annoyed by the question, but I watch him relax.
“It changes me. It’s the reason I was able to become the monster that helped you,” he flinches when I start to lather him in soap. Creek water isn’t the cleanest, but it’s all I have to make the soap softer. “The reason I couldn’t let you go in it is because it’s not something you easily come out of,”he explains. My hand trails over his abdomen and up his sides, he inhales sharply, but recovers quickly. 
“What exactly do you turn into?” 
“Half human, half dog, half beast. There are too many ways to describe it. It doesn’t help that at first you aren’t aware that you’re something else. It takes a couple of tries to not lose your mind. Some have succumbed to the madness, and others take it, go into town, cause chaos, and get themselves killed.” His eyes are distant as he talks. There’s something that tells me he is talking from experience. “It doesn’t help that when I take that form of the beast, it drains my energy. My human energy isn’t meant for a big body with that strength. It’s draining.” 
“Are you the only one now, besides me, who knows about it?” I reach his neck, noticing a big difference in cleanliness. 
He nods in answer. 
“You haven’t lost your mind, though. Why are you different?” he shrugs at my question. 
“I had a good mentor, at first,” his eyes turn down, “I also had a lot of motivation, I guess,” he holds his arms forward for me to wash. 
“What was your motivation?” 
He waits - the crickets nearby and the trees still. 
“You’ve asked much more than one question now. The focus should be on getting this dirt off of me,” he wades over to the edge. “You should get my legs too,” he lifts one onto the wall and I screw my eyes shut, squealing- the sound of his laughter a massage to my brain.
***
The next day it’s raining. I cover myself with the sack that I brought for Jungkook (a name I learned while I was soaping his legs - truly a heartwarming moment.) This time it has a few shirts I stole from my father. 
Jungkook told me I shouldn’t come back again at the risk of someone catching onto the fact that I was going into the forest too often. Judging by the trees surrounding me, I didn’t listen. I’ve checked my surroundings a million times before coming in. 
A noise behind me makes me jump, but I start humming to soothe the nerves. I brought Jungkook a small cupcake with a bunny iced on the top. It’s a bit wet now from the rain, but I’m almost certain he’ll still like it. 
After our day at the creek yesterday, I feel like he knows me better than anyone. The only thing I haven’t figured out is why he decides to stay out here instead of joining the rest of society. Well, when I truly think about it, I guess I can understand why he wouldn’t want to. 
I release a breath when I arrive at the cave, grateful that I didn’t forget where it is. 
“Jungkook?” I call as I walk in. My lantern is able to light up the slick walls. There’s running and shuffling until I approach him. He’s sitting criss-cross on the ground on a sheet, wide-eyed and open mouthed. “Jungkook? What are you doing?” I slowly approach him. 
“Nothing. Sitting here,” he says it too quickly to believe him. 
“What do you have behind you?”
“What’s that in your hand?” he nods to the cupcake I’m holding- the picture of the bunny looks a bit sad now. I don’t miss the way he decided to change the subject, but I can’t be bothered to bring it back up. He’ll have to move eventually. 
“It was a cupcake,” I step closer and sit in front of him, he tenses a bit, “but the rain kind of . . .” I show it to him. He looks at it and I think I see a smile spreading across his face. I have to check twice that it’s not a teasing smile, but what I thought was true. He’s looking at it fondly.
He reaches for it, releasing whatever’s behind him. 
“Thanks, Bunny,” he says. He doesn’t eat it but sets it beside him instead. 
“Are you going to tell me what’s behind you now?” I ask. He’s right back to being tense. His mouth opens and closes, resembling a fish, and before he can say anything else, a voice yells out. We freeze and look out the mouth of the cave. 
“Where the fuck did she go?” a man yells out again. Even with the rain, I can hear him clearly, meaning he’s too close. “Keep going! That bitch definitely had something to do with their disappearance!” he announces. 
They know. They must be friends of those men’s whose bodies we dumped - and they followed me here. 
Shit. How many times do I have to tell myself that I should have listened?
“Jungkook . . .” I whisper, but he’s already standing when I turn. 
“Stay here. I’ll take care of it,” he demands. The gentle Jungkook who accepted my soggy cupcake is gone - replaced with a Jungkook who looks ready to drown someone in the very creek water we swam in. 
“I’ll come with you,” I get ready to stand.
“Y/N . . . I appreciate it, but please don’t. It was always me who was supposed to take care of it. I’d feel a lot better if you stayed here,” with that, he jumps in the water. Meanwhile, I’m still caught up in how he knew my name. Jungkook may have fessed up his own, but I never did the same. 
His beast rushes out of the water and I have no time to take a glance at him. His gray skin is the only thing I spot paired with a panting noise as he runs out. 
Waiting in the cave for a mere three seconds is already torture. The waiting is agony especially when I can’t hear anything and not knowing how many followed me into the forest. 
I occupy myself by looking around the cave, not that there’s much to look at. I spot the thing Jungkook was holding behind his back. It looks like a bracelet but made with flowers and grass. I smile at it. Jungkook hiding his soft side makes the bracelet all the more special. 
A roar yanks my attention away. Yelling and screams rise above the rain from multiple people- more than three. I can’t just sit here. I can’t. 
The rain drops are cool against my skin and I pick up a long stick as I run in the direction of the chaos. 
My confidence in being able to help is not high, but my motivation is. There’s a pained whimper this time from Jungkook. My feet move faster now. It doesn’t matter if they can hear me coming to them as long as I’m able to get there- as long as he isn’t alone. 
A choked sound comes from below me. One of the men Jungkook dealt with reaches out with the one arm he has left. His mouth forms the words “Help me,” but I look away before he can say anything else.
Leaves crunching and sounds of a struggle lead me to a clearing. Bodies are scattered in every part of the clearing, unmoving. There are a few bodies beyond the trees as well. This was much more than the three men Jungkook dealt with in the cave. 
The beast himself sits in the middle. His skin is gray and slimy with hair in very few places. This form is indeed much bigger than the Jungkook I know.
 I quickly approach without saying a word and examine his condition. He’s lying on his side, his breathing shallow. There are a few scratches on his sides and a gash down his face. He’s exhausted and I think back to when he said the beast form is not meant for him to stay in for a long time. His body exhausts easily and if he used a majority of it on fighting these men- 
Damn it. I should’ve asked what happens when that energy is spent. Of all the times I have been nosy in my life and I couldn’t do it in such a crucial moment. 
Jungkook’s beast eye peers up at me and huffs. I ignore the scolding and focus on how I’m going to help him. The pond is too big to be brought to him, so I’m going to have to bring him to it. I don’t let the thought of “How?” linger in my mind too long before I’m picking up his legs and dragging him with as much force as I can bear. 
His groan is quiet behind me. 
“Don’t speak! Don’t do anything!” I yell. I avoid one or two bodies. I haven’t made it far and my arms and back are aching. 
“Use your legs, or you’ll do some damage to your back,” Father’s words echo in my mind. He’s told me so many wise things and yet I can never listen. It’s how I’m in this predicament in the first place. It’s the reason Jungkook is dying. 
My throat closes as tears well up in my eyes. 
“I’m not letting you die.” 
***
Jungkook is practically on the brink of death when I dump him in the pool of water. The lantern lights the red stringing through the water and I cross my fingers that he doesn’t drown. 
“Please, please, please,” I whisper, screwing my eyes shut, a tear falling as a result. “You’re my only friend, Jungkook. . .” I whisper. “Don’t leave.” 
As soon as the words escape me, a head surfaces above the water. I’m on my knees in an instance reaching for him. He’s still very heavy when I pull him in, but nothing compared to when he was the beast. 
“You’re okay!” I wrap my arm around his neck and pull him in. He hugs me back for only a second before I feel his body limp and fall. “Jungkook? Jungkook!” I call for him, but his breathing is weak. I pull him to where his sheet is, laying him gently. His eyes close and he enters sleep. I notice a bit of blood dripping down his face and sides from the battle.
I make sure his breathing is okay then leave him to rush back into town on a mission to take anything that could save him.
***
It’s the second day since Jungkook was attacked and it’s raining again. He’s woken up a few times for water, but nothing else. The bandages on his waist glare at me as I sit on the opposite side of the cave, humming a song, playing with the bracelet he has yet to finish. 
“I can’t believe you don’t remember,” his voice pipes up. I rush to him, a cup of water in hand from the creek. “I’d thought at least by now-” I put a finger to his lips- the rasp of his voice anxiety inducing. 
“You need to save your energy. We can talk when you’re back to being normal,” I tip the cup into his mouth, and he takes it. When I’m done, he sits up despite my protests. 
“I thought you liked the fact I wasn’t normal,” he whispers, his eyes off in the distance. I ignore the words seeing as that’s not my priority. “And I’m not talking about now. I’m talking about back then,” he meets my eyes now, then glides down to the bracelet I’m wearing. I’m ready to question what he means when I look at the bracelet. 
It’s like a key now. A key to a memory I put away a long time ago. 
***
11 years ago
“Keep crying. ‘S not like there’s anyone who’s gonna help you,” the blonde kid, nicknamed Jester, hits the boy again and I flinch behind the wall. “Where’s your parents?” Kicks him again and gestures for his friend to join in - and he does. 
I can’t watch this anymore. 
“Stop fucking with me-” before Jester can kick him again, I jump in, putting my body in front of the one who’s on the ground. 
“What is wrong with you two!” I yell out. 
“Mind your business, Y/N!” he tries to push me but I won’t budge. Finally, my height does something other than be the butt of every joke in town. Father always said I was an early bloomer and that my height could be an advantage. I didn’t see that until now. 
“Fuck you!” I spit at him, surprised at my own cursing. If he was angry before, he’s enraged now. His fist reels back, and I see it coming, but the boy behind me rushes him, tackling Jester. His friend looks to me. Before he can make any moves, I rush up to him and swing my leg up to his middle, hitting my target right between the legs. 
“Run!” I yell. With one down we should be okay. 
The boy gets off of the blonde and runs to me, taking my hand and leading me into the forest. I don't know where he's taking me, but if I saved him that means he won't hurt me, right?
We slow to a cave entrance. He turns to me, but doesn’t say anything. 
“Are you okay?” I ask him, noticing the cut under his eye. He nods, still not saying a word. “Those boys are assholes,” I cover my mouth at the bad word. “Sorry, but it’s true,” he laughs at me. I can’t believe he’s laughing at me after I saved his life. Then, I find myself laughing with him and it’s strange. 
He gestures for me to follow him deeper in the forest. 
We find a spot where he finally kneels on the ground and I follow.
“Do they usually pick on you?” I ask. He nods slowly and moves his sleeve to show scars and fresh cuts on his shoulder. I make the note in my mind that next time I’ll bring something to help heal those. 
His hands work and kneed in the grass and  grabs a few flowers that are scattered in different places. I see a bug on the trunk of the tree, my eyes trailing up the tree trunk that it travels. Where is it going to go?
A tap on my shoulder takes my attention away. I look down at the boy holding a small bracelet in his hands. He holds it to me, and I take it, trying not to break it. The little flowers spread throughout it tickle my hand. 
“For me?” I ask and he nods his head. 
“It’s to say ‘Thank You’,”  my heart is surprised when I finally hear his voice. 
“Hey. You wanna be my friend? I don’t have any,” I say.
His head moves so fast up and down. Finally! I found someone who likes me!
***
“You. . .” I whisper to him, his heavy eyelids covering his eyes staring back at me. 
“Me,” he looks at the bracelet sitting in the palm of his hand. I’m grateful he’s distracted while I process the new revelations. 
I push up from the ground and head for the exit, quickly stepping out into the rain.
“Y/N? Y/N!” he calls from behind me. I ignore him and try to keep my tears at bay. “Stop!” he yells. I hate that I do as he says, as if I’m his dog. He steps in front of me, and I turn away. “What’s wrong? Did I say something?” He tries to make eye contact with me and when I refuse, he uses a finger on my chin, the touch heating my face. 
“You can try to remind me of the good memories, Jungkook, but don’t forget those good times lasted for a week and you left,” I try to tame the way my voice is breaking. “You were my first friend and then you disappeared. I thought I was cursed for months!” a tear rolls down my cheek. He blinks. Once. Twice. “I get it. That was a long time ago and maybe it didn’t matter to you, but it does to me,” he shakes his head.
“Of course it matters, Y/N. You were my only friend and-”
“Then why did you leave me? Why didn’t you say anything? I risked so much going into the woods to find you.” Scenes of 10 year-old me play out in my head - screaming for Jungkook to come back until my throat itched, poisoning and rashes running down my legs. 
“It was going to be my first time in the pool,” his voice is low, “I wasn’t ready, but my mother was dying. Your very precious town was sending search parties to hunt us down. She couldn’t protect herself or me anymore, so I had to do it. I didn’t want to scare you,” his hand lowers back to his side and he takes a deep breath. “I was going through weeks of training myself and when my mom died and I got a hold of it, I went to try and find you, but I wasn’t finding you and it was too risky,” he explains. 
My heart cracks at the mention of his mother. I know what it’s like to lose a parent, but he only had her.  
“You should have told me. . .” 
“I wanted to. Trust me, Y/N. I did. But I wanted to figure out everything first before I jumped into it with you. I was also a kid at the time too. I didn’t have someone to guide me. Everyone hated me without being a beast. Could you imagine my fear of what would happen if they found out I am one? Especially with all the rumors and stories going around?” he argues. It’s a solid explanation. This was a long time ago and we were children. “When I saw you again and recognized that it was you, something I wanted more than anything, is for you not to be afraid of me. Your opinion, after a week, was the most important to me.”
Tears start to well up again. 
“Just like your opinion is most important to me now,” he whispers, stepping closer. I swallow the lump in my throat. His hair sticks to the sides of his head, some strands covering his eyes that are looking down at me. Goosebumps spread up and down my arms as heat bubbles in my stomach. 
“If you’re lying-”
“Don’t even think that,” he takes another step closer. I gasp when his hand wraps around my waist and pulls me to him, our chests touching and my hands resting on his arms. My thoughts are a jumbled mess and all I can ask is how this escalated so quickly. “Don’t go this time. I know I always tell you to leave, but I’m telling you to stay now.” 
My eyes blink and I’d like to blame it on the raindrops falling into my eyes, but I’m afraid to admit it’s because of how flustered I am at the stare he’s giving me. 
“And where do you get off on telling me what to do?”
“Can I be honest?”
“I’d like it if you were.”
“I think you like it when I tell you what to do.” It’s not the words I was expecting, but I don’t dislike it either. It’s also not false. “Do you want me, Y/N?” he whispers on my lips. “Tell me.” 
“Yes,” I say it a bit too quickly. 
Just when I think he’s going to plant his lips on mine, he instead asks, “Why?” The question is not hard to answer, but it is one that is difficult to say. 
“You’re the only person who makes me feel wanted in return,” I tell him. It’s honest and a much better answer than ‘You’re really hot’. “I don’t want to lose you, Jungkook,” I admit. “So, if you’re going to leave again you might as well-” 
His soft lips interrupt me - finally! 
A list of things I could be doing right now scrolls through my mind, yet none of them seem as important or as enticing as this is. If I could describe what this kiss is like, I don’t think that I could. No one has kissed me like this in the past. Nothing in the world can compare to the way that he holds me tightly against him, massaging the skin on my waist, while our mouths move in sync and rainwater mixes in with our saliva. 
His hands place pressure on hips and I respond by moving backward until I hit a tree. Now that I have back support, his lips push into me harder and I whimper into his mouth. He responds with a moan that runs straight to my core. 
We separate, breathing into each other. 
“It’s raining,” I say, my clothing completely stuck to me by now. 
“It’s not gonna stop me, but tell me if it’s going to stop you,” he brushes a hair away from my face and that’s when I can’t wait anymore. I want him too much to stop now, so I shake my head in answer. 
“I don’t want anything else to stop us,” I hook my fingers into his loose pants and bring him closer. The corner of his lips tilt up and his fingers crawl on the side of my neck before pulling me closer to him. 
The only thing I can pray for is that there are no more men who have decided to take on Jungkook and are still lurking in the forest, but that seems to be the last thing on his mind when he grinds into me. I moan into his mouth and he swallows it before leaning down to kiss my neck. I arch into him as he gets lower at the same time tickling the skin under my shirt as he lifts it up and over my head.
The rain is cold on me, but it’s worth it when his eyes stay on my perky nipples. 
“I-” he gulps. Not so mouthy now. 
“You can touch me, if you want,” I hate the way I sound so eager. I thought I would be able to play it cool, similar to the time I first lost my virginity (with a complete douchebag), but Jungkook makes me too nervous to ‘play it cool’. The way his eyes darken when he scans every inch of me, and the way he looks ready to devour me does the opposite of calming me down. 
I can only pray to any force out there that I make him feel the way he makes me feel. 
“I’ll do more than touch,” the palm of his hand skims the side of my breast, and he leans in. “I’ll do anything to show you you’re mine,” he whispers into my ear. The adrenaline is almost too much - I’m aching for him. 
“Then show me what it’s like to be yours,” I whisper back. 
He doesn’t look at me, his eyes stay on my lips for a few moments, then he moves down, taking one tit into his mouth leaving me breathless. His fingers tweak the other one, occasionally switching. 
“Jungkook- ah!” I gasp. He presses and gropes, then instant repeats. His skin is touching mine in every spot while his tongue continues its ministrations on my chest. I grab onto his hair in case I faint and lean my head onto the tree. The worry of getting bugs on me disappears when he nibbles on my skin. 
“I can’t wait much longer,” he sighs when coming back up. His fingers slide into my pants, and push into the space between my legs. I don’t expect it and cry into his mouth. “I don’t want to rush, bunny, but I can tell you’re as desperate as I am.”
I want to argue that I’m not, but it would be a lie. And it’s hard to argue with his fingers pumping in and out of me. He starts to kiss on my neck while his thumb joins in rubbing my clit. I feel a tension building in my stomach, then the knot unties and I release onto his hand. 
I’m still on my high when his fingers slip out and he licks them clean. I watch him and I’m prepared to do anything for this man. He already looks fucked out and I haven’t done anything to him. His hair is a mess but it’s a result of the rain mixed with my fingers moving it every which way. 
“Now I know you’re ready,” he pants. His pants fall to the ground, revealing the hard-on standing up. It isn’t fair that even his cock is perfect too. 
His eyes fall to my pants. 
“Can I. . . ?” he asks. I nod, slow. 
His hands are gentle as he peels my pants down my legs. I’m suddenly self-conscious when they come down, afraid of him spotting any hair or any marks but if he notices them, he doesn’t bring them up. 
“I’ve been thinking about this the past few days. How I’ll make you mine, how I’ll make you scream for me, how I’ll take care of you every day after. . .” He rambles before putting his lips on me again, the kiss frantic and wild, our tongues mixing all while pulling me closer, his hands move to my bare ass. “Jump,” he whispers, and I follow his instruction. 
My back hits the tree and our centers touch, bare skin to bare skin. It’s almost overwhelming. I feel as if I’m going to fall, but he makes it look so easy holding me. My heart grows ten times. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” He draws me out of my head with a curious glance. I shrug, not really knowing how to explain it, but he still doesn’t move, waiting. “Are you regretting this?”
I hit him on the shoulder. “How could you say that when I’m still here and fully naked mind you!” 
“Then what was that look?” 
“I just . . .” I pause. It’s nerve-wracking to be vulnerable in front of him. I’m already naked physically, but to be emotionally naked is different. “I keep thinking about how perfect you are.” There’s a surprise written all over his face. “Don’t think for a second I would regret this, even if we are in the middle of a downpour,” I instruct. 
A small smile appears on his face. 
“You’re perfect for me,” he plants a kiss on my lips before he turns his attention down to adjust himself. He slides into me slowly and a whimper leaves my throat. His hand soothes me, massaging the skin on my butt. 
His head falls onto my shoulder, and we stay like that for a few moments as he inches in. 
When he starts to move, I already feel the tree scratching my bare back, but I don’t mind the pain with pleasure. 
Every part of the front of me slides against him and the rest of my body feels sticky from the humidity. It’s messy, but I can’t imagine this any other way. 
His breathing grows heavy as he thrusts into me. His jaw is clenched as he lifts me up and down. 
“You’re beautiful. I wish you could see what I’m seeing,” he breathes. “Y/N, oh God, Y/N,” he groans. His words set off a spark in me bigger than before. It’s good to know that even when I’m naked, sticky, messy, he can still see me as beautiful. “I should’ve kept those guys alive and let them watch,” his tone is different now. “I should have let them watch what they couldn’t have.” 
“Jungkook, pelase -” 
He balances me on one arm, using the other to hold the side of my head while he kisses me. 
“I’m almost- oh gosh,” I cry, but before I can jump over the edge he slides out of me. “Jungkook? What are you-?”
I hold onto him when he moves and puts me onto the wet dirt. It’s cold and slushy at first, then warms up at the same time Jungkook hovers over me. 
“This is how I always dreamt about you with me,” he says, and slides into me again, my heels locking around his waist and on his back. His body weight rests on me as he moves again and his head falls into my neck. 
It doesn’t take long to get me right back to the edge, and from the way his thrusts are getting messier, he’s going to meet me there. 
“Jungkook!” I cry as I spill onto him and he does the same. 
I notice it’s not raining anymore when all the noise and movement stops.We lay there for a few moments in the quiet after he slides out of me, however, his weight is still resting on me. 
“Is your penis gone when you turn into a beast?” I ask, killing the silence. He laughs into my shoulder then lifts his head. 
“Why? Do you wanna fuck him too?” he suggests. I smack his shoulder. “Thank you, by the way. I know dragging a beast the same weight of a tree was not the easiest. You didn’t have to.”
“Of course I had to,” I argue. “You’ve saved me more than once now. The least I could do was try one time.”
“You helped me twice, actually,” he says. I’m back to when we were kids. 
“And there might be many more times after this,” I put a hand on his cheek. 
“And I’ll save you each,” he plants a kiss on my lips, “and every,” another kiss, “time,” a more passionate one. We stay naked on that floor for hours, looking up into the trees, wondering what life or death situation we’ll have to save each other from tomorrow. 
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