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starrgaziinggg · 5 months

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SMAU | undercover JYP-U

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chapter 34 -> a night to remember

Walking out of the exam hall on Friday afternoon had you feeling ecstatic. It had been a long two weeks, not only considering exam prep. With the account revealing Jeongin's 'secret', your mind hadn't been able to solely focus on studying.

You had no idea who was running this account. Revealing your friend group's secrets was one thing, but to lie about Jeongin stealing exam answers was something else entirely. It took on a whole new malicious level of thinking, and you had no idea who would hate you all enough to do something like that.

Disregarding those thoughts to the back of your mind, you had said your farewells to Minho, Lix and Hyunjin as you and Chae had walked back towards your dorm to get ready for the party. Hyunjin had told you the boys spent hours putting up decorations in their dorm, trying their best to reign in the Halloween theme for Ryujin.

"I'm so fucking glad that exams are over," Chae sighs, practically skipping along the street as you descend towards the guys dorm.

It had taken you both three hours to get ready, after returning from your exam. The other girls had started an hour before you'd even arrived.

"You have no idea how much I'm looking forward to getting drunk tonight," she continued, spinning around in her costume. Ryujin had planned Harry Potter themed outfits for her, Yuna, Chae and Lia, and while the former three girls looked incredible, poor Lia was still stuffed in her bed with the flu.

"Oh girl," you chuckle, watching your friend smile back at you with glee, laughing when Yuna attempts to push Ryujin into a bush in front of you. "I know exactly how you feel."

And you did. The only things on your mind were 1. To have fun and wash away the stress of exams tonight and 2. To find out what monster was behind this account.

You knew it was taking a toll on your friends, too. Jeongin, the usually chirpy boy with the biggest, 'I don't give a fuck' mindset out of anyone of your friends, had been reduced to a shell of himself after his so called secret was leaked. You, Hyunjin and Minho had sat with him for hours consoling him and trying to figure out a way to navigate the situation.

What you couldn't wrap your head around was why the account would lie about Jeongin's 'secret'. It made no sense considering everything else they had revealed was fact. It threw a spanner in the works for you, and it was hard to pin the blame on anyone.

"Wait till you see the guys in their costumes," Ryujin claps her hands, grinning like a maniac. She'd spent hours choosing which costumes to give them, since none of them had the time (nor the energy) to choose them themselves. Maybe it was a bad idea to leave her in charge. At least, some of the boys would definitely agree. She'd been especially brutal with Changbin's outfit, all things considered.

Walking into the boys dorm, what could only be described as chaos ensued. Ryujin had clearly spared no expense, and you counted Hyunjin lucky that you'd forced Ryujin to let him do a couples costume with you and keep him out of her evil scheme.

Jeongin was jumping from furniture to furniture, pretending to shoot webs out of his hands while Chan shouted at him. Chan's costume might have been your favourite as you stood clinging to Ryujin as laughter overcomes you. It might have been, but when you turned to your left and caught a glimpse of Changbin, your opinion quickly changed. Ryujin literally collapsed into a heap on the floor laughing at him.

"I know we've had our fair share of disagreements, but really Jin?" Changbin whines, tapping a crumpled Ryujin with a cowboy boot. "Look at the state of me!"

Minho pops up out of nowhere to stab Changbin's neck at that point, manically laughing when Changbin rubs at the spot Minho's fake weapon had attempted to impale him. You shake your head at their antics, smiling when a pair of toned arms wrap around your torso.

"You look sexy as fuck," Hyunjin says lowly into your ear, placing a kiss against your cheek as he spins you in his arms.

"Watch the makeup!" You laugh, shaking your head and giving him a once over. If he thought you looked hot, he was something else entirely. You decided to give him a proper kiss, placing your lips against his momentarily.

"Ew," you hear Jeongin say from Chan's confinements after being forced back onto two feet firmly on the ground. "Get a room!"

You roll your eyes at the younger boy, grabbing Hyunjin's hand and pulling him towards the kitchen. You hear the music start playing and can only assume Jisung has managed to connect to the speaker.

"I'm serious," Hyunjin says into your ear from behind you, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you around to face him. You hear a chorus of 'ooh's from your friends; Ryujin, Felix, Yuna, and Chan in the kitchen. You flip them off without a second thought.

"Yeah yeah, I'm hot, move on," you say cheekily, giving him a grin. Hyunjin just shakes his head at you, pulling out ingredients to create your favourite cocktail. "Mojito?"

"Of course," he replies, expertly concocting the drink you love so much. "I bought the ingredients yesterday just for you."

"Don't act like it's not your favourite too," you point out, to which he puts up his hands in defeat. You watch as Ryujin busts into the kitchen with her camera, giggling like a maniac.

"Pose for a picture! I'm gonna post all our costumes as a competition and see who gets the most likes," she explains, ushering you to Hyunjin's side and making you both turn around to face her. You roll your eyes with a smile, leaning into the tall man beside you and making a peace sign.

Just before Ryujin snaps the image, Hyunjin presses his lips to your cheek, making you grin. The flash goes off, and Ryujin audibly squeals when she sees the photo she's taken.

"You guys are ridiculously cute, look," she says, turning the camera to show you both the image. Hyunjin wraps an arm round you, giving the photo a thumbs up.

"You're so talented, Jinni," he says in approval, which you nod at. "If we don't win I'll be pissed."

"Mojitos!" Yuna interrupts then, bounding up to you and Hyunjin and giving him a pout. "One for me?"

Hyunjin shakes his head smiling, bringing out a third glass. "Whatever you wish."

Yuna sends you a grin before pointing at Ryujin, the latter attempting to take a picture of Jeongin whilst he springs around the room. You can't help but laugh at your friends antics, thankful your mind has been well and truly taken away from all the drama this semester had caused you.

"Stay still!" Ryujin shouts, furiously moving her camera to track Jeongin's position. Seungmin walks into the kitchen then, so Ryujin turns her attention onto him instead, making him pose.

"Aren't you the cutest," Yuna compliments when Seungmin's finished, pinching his cheeks. He swats at her, rolling his eyes. Hyunjin hands both you and Yuna your cocktails, which you thank him for with a peck.

"Yeah, well I got it better than some of the other guys. Chan's saying his frat bros have a Halloween themed party going on and want us to join, but Changbin's refusing to be seen by anyone else in his costume," he explains, nodding to Changbin who's sulking in the kitchen corner as Ryujin takes his picture, too.

"A frat party?" You question, sending Seungmin a raised eyebrow. "Do we not recall how the last one went down?"

You point at the subtle scar on your cheek for good measure, which Yuna pouts at, giving it a kiss.

"You're beautiful," she says with a grin, which you stick your tongue out at. "But yeah, as much as I'd love to see Chan's gorgeous frat friends again, I dunno if it's a good idea."

"You know I'd usually agree, but Chan says there's not a lot of people there, since they had their actual big Halloween party on Saturday. This is just a small costume party for the frat guys and their close friends," Seungmin informs you, shrugging his shoulders.

Hyunjin turns to you with a shrug. "I'd be down. I wouldn't be surprised if Alex has already messaged me about it," he says, referring to one of his friends that's also a member of the frat. You'd been informed by Hyunjin later on that he was the one that had driven you to the hospital that one time. "But if you're not up for it, we don't need to go."

He turns to you, and you sigh. "Oh, what the fuck, why not. It would be nice for you and Chan to see your friends again. Plus, we could all use a good night. As long as that guy Changbin fought isn't there."

"Nah, Chan said he was some guy from a rival frat," Yuna says with a grimace, shivering. "Was winding him up all night apparently. Anyway, that's a no go topic for tonight. This is post exam, audition and drama stress fun."

She gives you a wink as Hyunjin cocks his head at the blonde. "How did your audition go, anyway?"

Yuna had already informed you how her audition for the end of year showcase the drama department put on had gone, after it had happened. The play that had been chosen was Legally Blonde, so obviously Yuna was gunning for the lead.

"Excellently, of course," she replied with a flick of her hair. "I think the recent drama gave me a good edge to my performance."

Hyunjin laughs at her, but Seungmin says nothing, just grabbing his phone where it was placed on the counter. "Let's tell the others we're gonna go, yeah?"

Nodding in reply, you walk through to the living area of the boys dorm. Jeongin's finally pulled his mask down, bleach blonde hair fluffy atop his head. He was desperate to get it dyed back, his roots growing out quickly. Hyunjin was much the same, though you'd admitted to him you liked the blonde locks, and forced him to keep it just a little longer.

"Ryujin, I love you, but I'm changing before we go," Felix says, shouting through to her whilst running into his room. Changbin groans at that, digging his heels into the carpet with a pout. You chuckle, taking your jacket from Hyunjin and thanking him.

"I want to change too! Chan, please can we go back to ours?" He pleads, giving the older man his best puppy eyes. Chan shakes his head absentmindedly.

"No can do. Felix!" He shouts, though Felix reappears instantly, sporting a hoodie and baggy jeans. "Oh. Excellent timing. Let's go, everyone!"

"Yes dad," Jisung groans, pulling the witch hat off of his head and chucking it on the ground before leaving the boys dorm. You watch Ryujin give him a glare, complaining she spent good money on that, before heading to the front of the pack with Chae, Chan, Minho and Felix.

"This outfit better pull me mad chicks tonight," Jeongin says, hanging back with you and Hyunjin as you follow the same route to your sister university. Hyunjin shakes his blonde head at him.

"You do realise you need actual rizz to pull chicks, right?" He berates the younger boy, ruffling his hair with a grin.

"Fuck off, Hyunjin," Jeongin whines, pulling away from his older friend. "You clearly have no rizz, since you two haven't even -"

"Okay!" You shout, pushing the younger boy away and watching him turn around with a devious smirk. "Ignore him, he thinks he's invincible in that Spider-Man costume."

Hyunjin chuckles, not saying much as you cross the road to the frats. As Seungmin had mentioned, the frat wasn't brimming with drunk college students like the last time you were here. It appeared much more civilised, Chan's friend greeting you at the door and ushering you in, with maybe twenty people drinking casually and chatting around the large entryway.

"Plenty of drinks in the kitchen," his friend grins, chucking an arm around Chan as you all start to mingle. "Yuna, Sungwoon's been talking about you nonstop, he's outside."

Yuna gives a happy squeal, giving you a wave before making a beeline outdoors. Jeongin pulls you towards the kitchen area with Felix, and before you get a second to think you're downing shots with them. Taking note of the fact Hyunjin's standing with Alex, you make three drinks and head in their direction, passing the two men their glasses.

"Thanks, angel," Hyunjin smiles, giving you a kiss on the cheek. He slings an arm around you comfortably, and you appreciate how easy it is to be with him. You didn't know what you expected, being official with Hyunjin, but it was honestly better than you could have imagined.

"Yeah, cheers," Alex thanks you, clinking your glasses. "I'm actually glad you guys are finally together. Hyunnie boy wouldn't shut up about you for months."

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, pushing his friend with a laugh. "Yep, shut up Alex."

Raising an eyebrow, you squint your eyes at Hyunjin. "Months, eh?"

"Don't let it get to your head," he smirks, giving Alex the evils.

The next couple hours are spent chatting to more of Alex's friends, which had become Hyunjin'a friends by association, sprawled out on the comfortable sofas in the living area. The girls dip in and out, coming to chat periodically before getting swept away again.

After a while, you feel yourself start to yawn, the stress of exams evidently taking their toll. Hyunjin saunters up to you, making Jeongin gag from his spot beside you on the sofa, instantly fleeing the scene.

"Hey babe," he grins, pecking your cheek. Smiling back, you pull your knees to your chest, leaning into him. "Tired?"

"Mhm," you sigh back. "Those all nighters have fucked me up big."

He laughs, patting your head fondly. "Wanna come back to the dorm with me? I'm shattered too, but these freaks don't seem like they're leaving any time soon."

He nods his head towards your friends, scattered around the frat. You can't help but smile at them, most of them still in their costumes, chatting and drinking. It was your favourite thing to see, then having fun. To Hyunjin, you nod sleepily.

"Sounds good to me. Let me say bye to the girls," you say, heaving yourself off the sofa and wandering off in Yuna's direction. She notices you straight away, pulling you in for a side hug - evidently blasted.

"Peeling off early with your boy toy?" She raises her eyebrows mischievously, placing your face in her hands. "Don't blame you. My guy's gone to sleep already, idiot."

"Where's Ryujin?" You say in between laughter, taking the odd alcoholic concoction out of Yuna's hands and pulling her into the kitchen.

"No clue to be honest," she says, downing the water you give her. "Saw her last maybe an hour ago?"

"She just messaged saying she's alright," Chae chirps, joining you both. "Like five minutes ago? Dunno where she actually is though."

"Aw, let her have her fun," Yuna swats her hand, tilting her head. "After everything with Changbin she deserves a bit of freedom."

"My thoughts exactly," you agree, winking at Chae who laughs. "Anyway, get home safe, message me when your back, and let me know how Lia is. See you guys in the morning?"

The girls hug you, bidding their farewells. You wave bye to Jeongin, Chan and Jisung, the only of the guys you can see, before meeting Hyunjin at the entrance and leaving. You both spend the short walk home chatting about the night, keeping both your spirits high.

"Did you see Felix like, at all?" Hyunjin asks while he uses his key card to unlock the door to his dorm. "I swear I saw him once and then he disappeared."

"Honestly I feel like everyone split off to mingle pretty early on," you reply lazily, kicking off your shoes and jacket. It was almost eerie how quiet Hyunjin's dorm was, usually bustling with all the boys. "It was nice to talk to your friends, though."

"Yeah, they seemed to like you a lot," he grins, turning and placing his hands on your hips. "Not surprised though, with a face like yours."

"Oh, that's all I am, huh?" You say slyly. "A pretty face?"

"And a beautiful dancer, a smartass, a funny little thing..." he berates you, which you hit him on the shoulder for. He only shakes his head. "Seriously though? How lucky am I to call you mine, yeah?"

"Im yours now, am I?" You raise an eyebrow, letting him pull you closer towards him.

He rolls his eyes dramatically, inching forward. "If you're willing to be stuck with me."

You grin, tilting your head. "Right back at you."

He ends your back at forth by kissing you, a hand placed on your cheek, simultaneously moving you backwards to his room. Giggling between kisses, you turn the handle to his door and watch him kick it shut behind him, deepening the kisses and moving you to sit on his bed.

You pull apart, watching his handsome face stare down at you with a smile. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because you're stunning," he says instantly, not missing a beat. "And I thoroughly enjoy looking at you. You do need to take that face makeup off though, because it's completely smudged."

"So is yours!" You laugh, placing a thumb over his lips and smudging it even more. "Fuck, no makeup remover here."

"Come again?" Hyunjin says, holding up a bottle of makeup remover and cotton pads. You furrow your eyebrows in astonishment.

"You have makeup remover?" You ask shocked as he hands you it whilst removing his own makeup.

"I dunno," he says once he's finished. "I bought some stuff you might need incase you stay over. Dorm full of boys, not much feminine equipment here."

You laugh as you finish removing your own makeup, setting everything down on his bedside table.

"How considerate of you," you smile when he sits next to you on the bed. He rolls his eyes.

"It's more of an excuse so you stay more."

"Oh yeah?" You respond slyly before he starts kissing you again, a hand moving to your cheek. You stay like that for a while until you take the initiative, playing with the hem of his tshirt.

"What's this?" Hyunjin says with a smirk, breaking away from you momentarily to look at your hands.

"What?" You say with a giggle, shrugging shyly. "Is it so wrong of me to want to take your top off?"

"You first," he nods, which you hit him for with a laugh. "Seriously though, are you sure you're okay to take this further?"

You squint at him. "Do I look like I'm not sure?"

"Baby," he sighs, tilting his head. "I'm just making sure you want this. God help me, you must know how much I want you."

You feel a tingle down your spine at his words, but you play it cool, smiling up at Hyunjin.

"I want you right back," you reply, nodding to solidify your certainty. He laughs at you, shaking his head.

"And you're not drunk?" He says seriously.

"I stopped drinking hours ago. Stop stalling, dickhead," you say, pushing his shoulder gently.

"Okay, okay, I guess I'm just nervous," he says with a shaky laugh, and you tilt your head at him. "Come on. I know you've heard the rumours about me on campus hell, even from our friends. I don't want you to have expectations here because frankly I have very low confidence on how long I'm gonna last."

You chuckle at him, taking his face in your hands. "I don't care about your sex god rumours, Hyun."

This seems to give him some confidence, because with a final shake of his head, he's kissing you again, slowly pushing you down onto his bed. He kisses your neck, hard enough to leave marks which you'll kill him for in the morning but right now you just don't care.

"I have no idea when the guys will be back," he says breathlessly as he pulls away from your neck.

"Better make this quick then," you smirk, almost confused at how easy this feels. In the past, your sexual encounters had been rushed, messy one night stands or awkward fifth date endings. You'd never felt so many feelings towards someone you were intimate with before, and it made all the difference.

"Next time, I promise I will take my time with you," he says, reattaching himself on your chest, moving your top to the side to give him access.

"Next time?" You say breathlessly, which he rolls his eyes at, pulling you towards him to remove your tshirt and his own, and Jesus - this boy should take his top off more often. His toned stomach, defined biceps...the list goes on.

"Trust me," he whispers, unclasping your bra and throwing it on the floor. He looks up at you, puppy eyes that draw you in immediately. "There's gonna be a next time."

And you're entranced, watching him work his magic on your body, hands and tongue everywhere. He pulls down your skirt, and then your underwear, and you don't feel insecure for even a second when he attaches himself to your core, spreading open your legs. Your hands fly straight to his hair, tugging at the blonde strands without a coherent thought.

"Hyunjin," you groan, lifting his head up to face you. "I want you, now. Before anyone gets back."

He smirks, his classic smirk, wetness dripping from his lips. "Don't have to tell me twice."

After removing his jeans and boxers, he rolls on a condom, aligning himself, an arm propping himself up by your head. He leans in, kissing you gently.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, using his other hand to move the stray hair from your face and rubbing your cheek with his thumb. "I can't wait until I can spend hours making you feel good."

This man. He made you feel so ridiculously turned on it should be a crime. He pushes into you slowly, not leaving your eyes as he does so. The stretch is manageable, but you wince nonetheless, his hand intertwining with yours immediately.

"You're okay," he says, a statement that makes you feel at ease instantly. "Tell me if it hurts."

"It's okay," you smile, pecking his lips quickly. "You can move."

It takes a minute of his slow movements for you to get used to his size, but once you do, the pleasure is unmatched. He finds a rhythm that works for the both of you, hitting the spot deep inside of you that has you whining his name and your eyes rolling back. He places a hand on the headboard of his bed, increasing his pace when he sees how much you enjoy it.

"You feel so fucking amazing," he groans, dipping down to kiss you as much as he can through your breathlessness. "Fucking hell, you have no idea how hard it is to hold back right now."

"Then don't," you say instantly, prioritising his pleasure over yours. You definitely had heard the stories on campus of Hyunjin - one in which he was the only guy who had made a girl finish in her life before, so you knew he'd make it up to you. Right now, all you wanted was for him to let go.

"Fuck, don't say that," he shakes his head, moving a hand to grip your waist as he pulls himself inside and out of you rapidly.

"Do it. Cum for me, Hyun," you all but whine, which seems to be his breaking point, he groans, thrusting into you hard a couple more times before slowing down and stilling inside of you.

"I hate you," he groans, face hidden in your shoulder. You laugh, catching your breath as your chest rises and falls. "I seriously hate you. I could have kept going."

And that's the moment the door to the boys dorm swings open and you hear the boys crashing in, completely smashed. Jeongin's distinct voice overpowers as he stumbles around the living room, complaining that daddy Chan removed him from the fun.

"Good thing you didn't," you smirk, a hand gently pulling through Hyunjin's blonde hair, which he laughs at, groaning as he untangles himself from you to dispose of the condom.

"Bro, you're smashed. Go to fucking bed," you hear Minho say to Jeongin, whilst Hyunjin pulls on his boxers and chucks you one of his large tshirts. You pull it on, laughing at the guys outside. There's a banging on Hyunjin's door then, which he rolls his eyes at.

"Hope you wore protection, sex lord!" Jeongin shouts through, Hyunjin replying with a, 'shut the fuck up.'

"Jeongin! Go to sleep!" Seungmin shouts from his room, Hyunjin flopping back into bed with you.

"I say we wait five before we go out to brush our teeth," Hyunjin chuckles, kissing you on the lips gently. "Hopefully by then Jeongin will have crashed."

"You want me to use your toothbrush?" You ask, an eyebrow raised.

"Hell no! I bought you your own," he fake gags. You smile at him sleepily, ruffling his hair.

"You're just the cutest," you coo. He swats at you in return, pulling you into his arms.

"Nah. All you."

"Gross!" Jeongin shouts. "Nobody wants to hear your declarations of love!"

You only shake your head at him, thankful for the man holding you. Everything may have gone to shit in the last two months, but at least one good thing had came out of it. And you weren't planning to get rid of him anytime soon.

@cursed-mars-bars @imasimplol @hyunverse @aestaeticous @dorisnumber1fan @amnmich @detectivedoodle @mara-mars @end0rchans @raresevng @nhyunn @lixie-phoria @beomgyusonlywife @seolarpower @cuddlethebear r @weird-bookworm @ceelestic @worcesheshestershiresauce @hyuneyeon @downbadreading @where-is-innie @its-hannjisung @weird0o0 @sxhxnax @moretinyideas eas @realrintaro @pinkcherryblossomangel el @tesywesy @beaann @cutesince2000 @lynlyndoll @furryenthusiastbread @nyasstars @eyearebee @lynlyndoll

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odetoviscera · 10 months

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Baldur's Gate 3: The Evil Experience

on the recommendation of @leupagus: My Very Special Evil Boy, Vexation. don't worry about the blood, it's a fashion choice.

if you've been wondering how evil you can be in baldur's gate 3, wonder no more-- So Evil.

so beginning at the beginning, i of course chose the Dark Urge (obvious serial killer) origin, who is conveniently customizable, so i also made him Drow and a Lolth Worshipper and a Warlock (all of which has made him only marginally more evil, tbh, mostly the related dialogue options make him a smug bastard, although OCCASIONALLY this will give him a "hmm what if i enslaved you" option which people do indeed react to as if he's an evil maniac and they should flee and/or try to kill him. this goes great for them considering i'm the protagonist.)

i wake up on an illithid ship with no memories, as one does. i befriend a walking talking brain, by which i mean i lobotomize it so that i can more easily control and manipulate it, as one does. i may not know who i am, but i definitely know that i am powerful, mean, and more important than everyone here. also i have a great old one in my brain giving me eldritch blast, so the tadpole wriggling around in there seems normal. i crash the ship sort of accidentally and am set loose on my merry way to wrack the Sword Coast with terrible mayhem. probably. as soon as i figure out if i'm about to turn into a mindflayer.

the first sign of my uncontrollable evil mania was when i tried to talk to a squirrel in act one (actually, i tell a lie, the FIRST sign was when i was tempted to hack Gale's hand off instead of dragging him out of the portal he got stuck in, but i decided i needed a wizard more than a dismembered hand) and the narrator informed me i had been Gripped By A Compulsion and promptly dropkicked the squirrel into a tree. it died, obviously. i was given the option to decide if i cared about this and decided that my opinion was a frankly inappropriate level of malicious glee considering the heights from which i, clearly child of murder, have obviously fallen to get amnesia and get tadpoled and fall out of the sky on a dying illithid spaceship. anyway this set me up for Being Maximally Deranged, however there is No Karma Meter or any equivalent system to MEASURE your evil or limit your dialogue options-- i have free reign at all times, i COULD decide that suddenly i'm going to be a Repentant Murderer, i can do Nice Things if i want the reward or the exp or i am exercising my single scintilla of compassion accidentally inculcated by my eventual three simultaneous romances (one of which is with the mindflayer who lives in my brain/an artifact stopping ME from becoming a mindflayer. this game is so horny, very classic dnd "i roll to romance the villain". except i am also the villain.) at this point i have no romances, though-- at this point my companions watch me kick a squirrel to death and their collective response is "well… that seemed… excessive."

i also have the option to tell every single one of them individually that i am driven by a blood mania to murder and destruction. opinions of this range from "well admitting you have a problem is the first step!" to "that's nice, just point it at the enemy instead of ME". no one seems appropriately concerned about this. they'll learn.

anyway the next sign of my uncontrollable evil mania is that when i decided to be nice to a bard for no reason and she showed up at our next long rest to Join The Party (oh we do get a bard companion, that's nice, i said, like a fool.) i promptly murdered her in the night. as in i woke up covered in blood with her corpse ritually slaughtered at my feet and said "hm. probably shouldn't let anyone else find out i did this" and then sulked when no one gave me proper respect and rewards for murdering her. fortunately the next day my Evil Butler materialized to do just that, and proved he wasn't a figment of my imagination by giving me an Evil Cloak that lets me turn invisible everytime i murder someone. i spend the next half an act or so convinced i'm going to slowly kill off my party, but fortunately i develop the ability to control myself. now i only murder when I WANT to murder.

the rest of act one i am SORT OF a good boy-- i do deliberately get a child killed but i don't PERSONALLY kill her, i get a druid's snake to do it, so does it really count against MY soul? yes but only me and daddy bhaal know it so i am able to continue playing Goody Two Shoes for the rest of the act. (i don't know he's my daddy yet, but like… i know it. i, the player, know it. in my soul. i've played these games before.) delightful fallout, my child murder gets the druid killed after i Helpfully Save The Tieflings by telling the opposing force i'll totally help them break in and kill them all, then betraying them at the last minute. i kill so so so many goblins. i get an inspiration point for how many goblins i kill. goblins are still sentient. It's Still Murder.

act two, however, empowered by all my Blood And Chaos, i turn over a new leaf. sure sure being lauded by the tieflings was fun and all, but i do somewhat regret not killing EVERYONE. i'll do better this time. this shadow-cursed hellscape is really vibing with me. it's also trying to eat me every time i'm not carrying a magic lamp but you can't win 'em all. i pretend that i'm with the antagonists (can you call them villains when I'M the villain?) so i can get their lamp. it's carried by a drider who does not appreciate my sincere compliments about how beautifully fucked up he is. his loss, i'm down to fuck anyone. i'm already fucking a githyanki and a vampire spawn.

when i get to the Big Bad Tower where supposedly they'll know about my tadpole, i discover they know something WAY MORE IMPORTANT: who the fuck i am. everyone here recognizes me. no one will tell me anything. several of them are appropriately terrified. this is infuriating but also promising. the Big Bad is a smug dick and i want to eat his heart raw. i daydream about this.

my butler arrives to tell me if i murder a Special Girl i'll get a treat. i like treats and i LOVE murder so i go looking for her. she's maintaining a Magic Selenite Moon Shield over the single not-shadow-cursed place here, which i hate on principle-- also it's a harper outpost and i hate them too, they'd probably disapprove of murder. some rando minion with wings drops in to tell me the Big Bad of the region wants to kidnap her (ALIVE, he specifies) so obviously i now double want to kill her. i kill her in one round. the magic shield collapses. EVERYONE dies (including the tieflings i saved in act one! full circle.) and then i kill their shadow-cursed undead corpses again, for good measure.

my treat is getting to turn into the slayer. i KNEW i was a bhaalspawn.

behold my true glorious visage. (with blep.) my only complaint is that i can only become this hulking death machine once per long rest. it is, however, not a turn-limited form, i can stay in it Forever if no one kills me as long as i'm willing to Just Murder No Talking. also it has a spectacular ladder-climbing animation, this bitch goes down ladders face-down like a lizard, i love him.)

anyway i don't go back to the Big Bad Tower bc presumably they'll be mad about the dead girl (i'm guessing she's Big Bad's dead daughter miraculously resurrected. i'm totally right by the way.) but the last time i was there i got a quest to find the Big Bad's Relic, which is obviously his phylactery or something since he's got a whole death aesthetic-- after a whole Temple of Shar sequence it turns out his phylactery is a captive aasimar actually. my companion wants to murder her for shar-related reasons, so i give her the go-ahead since i don't have any SPECIAL reason to kill her myself. my companions should get to be evil occasionally too.

with his phylactery dead, it's pretty easy to mow through the Big Bad Tower, especially since i can now turn into the Death Machine. i don't have to talk to anyone here. i can Just Murder.

nearly kill the Big Bad but he flees to his basement, where it turns out there's an mindflayer colony, big deal, we've all got tadpoles in our brains (i've been eating other tadpoles for extra power along the way, because of course i have) okay fine it's a slightly big deal bc there's an elder brain here that my Special Mindflayer Friend is shielding us from whatever. it's under the control of the Big Bad who's death aesthetic turns out to be that he's the Chosen of Myrkul, and also here are reps of the other Dead Three, Bane and My Daddy. i hate bhaal's chosen on sight, as is traditional for a bhaalspawn. i will murder her someday. i will murder her SO GOOD.

unfortunately she and the baneite fuck off with their elder brain to lay siege to baldur's gate while i'm daydreaming about it, so for now all i get to murder is Big Bad Myrkul Edition. moderately satisfying. he turns in an Avatar of Myrkul in the second half but i destroy him so quickly he doesn't even get to regenerate with the hojillion corpses in the area. nobody murders like vexation.

off to baldur's gate to save the city/get bigger hunting grounds!

i do cure the shadow curse on my way out though, because i'm never coming back and i've left the place a blighted wasteland, why not, it gets me a pet druid.

there's also some drama with githyanki and vlaakith, as usual, turns out the Rebel Prince Orpheus is actually how my particular mindflayer (who is finally revealing that he's a mindflayer, a thing i have suspected all along because of all the psychic shit he does) is doing the shielding, etc. etc. also i let my mindflayer boyfriend turn me in a half-illithid, which means i get no tentacles but a BUNCH of new mindflayer powers to make me an even better murderer. can't wait to see who wins in the tug-of-war for my mind, body, and soul--the illithids, my great old one beyond the stars, a devil who keeps trying to get my attention, my vampire boyfriend who wants to ascend to vampire god, or Murder Daddy. my bet is murder daddy.

anyway we get to baldur's gate, where i break in bc i don't want any guards to know i'm here-- just jumped and flew my way up the side of the bridge past the checkpoint. easy peasy now that i have illithid flight powers on command no cooldowns just Psychically Levitate wherever i want to go. also i can turn into a displacer beast. that's right, i now have to option to become TWO DIFFERENT terrifying horror beasts and rip through mobs like papier-mache. my patron really needs to keep up, warlock powers are falling behind. (no they aren't, i've hit level 10 and can now eldritch blast three times in one round and every hit knocks enemies back and terrifies them. i'm gonna chew this city up and swallow it one bite.)

however, first thing when i get into the citadel: the baneite is being coronated Archduke, bc of course he is. so i head up to see if there's a chance to murder him and a room full of peers, BUT. for the first time EVER-- this little shit is willing to tell me Who I Am. Assassin of Bhaal, former high priest of His Temple, and ONE OF THE INVENTORS OF THIS CONQUEST PLAN. that little bhaalite chosen is my bhaalspawn sister (obviously) who fucking tadpoled me, gave me amnesia, and discarded me before making sure my corpse was cold. this will be a mistake! FOR HER.

in the meantime the baneite wants me to know that he is a big fan of mine, would i like to murder my sister since i already murdered the myrkulite, and then he and i can rule this city together with an iron grip and a blood knife, since he's sure he'll have a lot of use for an assassin as a tyrant. mind-reading and my brain-illithid agree that he is actually on the level about this, at least for the moment, so of course i agree. i will rule this city. and then i will murder him. and then i will murder EVERYONE. in THE WORLD.

so now i'm hunting the current chosen of bhaal so i can kill her and steal her place-- my butler is sending me divine visions of it, SHE can't turn into the slayer, i am evil daddy's favourite. she's also kidnapped one of my companions and is threatening to kill her if i show up but i care about that less.

and that's where i am so far! will report on Future Evils.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 oc #baldur's gate evil edition #truly sorry i don't have more screenshots #i'll try to remember to take more for the rest of act three lol

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msweebyness · 6 months

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Class of Villainy Intro

What's up, guys? It's ya girl, Weeby, with a new project! If you remember the 'Title Sequence' that Sparky did for Creepsters, I'm doing those for our other AUs! Here's the first up, Class of Villainy! Enjoy! @imsparky2002 @artzychic27

(Instrumental of 'Ways to be Wicked' begins to play. The camera does a wide sweep over the dark skyline of Paris, before entering the doors of a Parisian fashion house. All of the mannequins are dressed in the furs of different animals.)

(The scene focuses on a teen girl with half-black, half-white hair, clad in a large, white fur coat, smiling cruelly at a cluster of dalmatian puppies locked in a cage, holding a pair of shears in her hands.)

*TITLE CARD: Marinette: Fashion Maven with a passion for furs*

(Marinette turns around to yell at two sisters of Asian descent who have just arrived, ordering them to get her more dogs. Socqueline and Fei roll their eyes but go to do as their employer ordered.

(The scene then changes to a palatial building, the fashion house of "The Sultan of Style", Gabriel Agreste. We see a teenaged boy with coiffed blonde hair and reptilian green eyes smiling smugly as he hypnotizes some of his father's employees with a staff that resembles a cobra, the brightly colored parrot on his shoulder squawking words of encouragement.)

*TITLE CARD: Adrien: Sinister Spellcaster with a hypnotic charm*

(The scene changes again, this time to show a dark alley. As two men in tailored suits walk by, a clawed hand reaches out and snatches their wallets without them noticing. The camera pans further into the alley, and we see a teen with a top hat, sharp canine teeth, and a flicking fox tail, grinning smugly as he rifles through the contents of the wallets.)

*TITLE CARD: Nino: Conniving conman with sticky, foxy fingers*

(Another scene change, we are now in a lab with potions and poisons of various colors bubbling over. A teenaged girl clad in large goggles and a white lab coat bears a maniacal grin as she holds up a vial of toxic pink liquid.)

*TITLE CARD: Alya: Sorceress Supreme with a penchant for potions*

(Alya rolls her eyes in exasperation as we hear a loud crash, and the camera pans over to a tall and muscular girl who is standing by a pile of shattered vials. Alya's sister, Nora.)

(The screen suddenly becomes pixelated, and we are transported to a video game world constructed entirely of candy. The shot shows us the finish line of a race track, which is crossed by a glittery, pink candy go kart, out of which steps a petite blonde, clad in a poofy candy dress, with a psychotically perky grin as she looks out at the crashed and smoking cars of the other racers.)

*TITLE CARD: Rose: Candy Queen of Sugar Rush, "Greatest Racer Ever"*

(The screen is engulfed in green flames, which change the scene to the throne room of a gothic castle, where a girl with large draconic horns, purple streaked bangs, and a silken black cloak smiles wickedly as she prepares to send a terrible curse out over the land with her glowing scepter.)

*TITLE CARD: Juleka: Mistress of All That is Evil, petty like you wouldn't believe*

(Juleka smiles fondly as she hears a sharp squawk, and a raven swoops into the room, landing in front of her. The raven then transforms into a boy with shaggy teal hair and a calmly malicious smile, who gives his sister a playful bow.)

*TITLE CARD: Luka: Music Master and Juleka's Eye in the Sky*

(The camera then exits the throne room through the window before plunging into the dark ocean. With seeming trepidation, we enter a dark sea cave, seeing miserable looking polyps along the floors. We enter a larger chamber and see a girl with pale purple skin and six black tentacles, cackling devilishly as she tends to a brew within her cauldron. She coos affectionately at her beloved eels as they curl around her arms.)

*TITLE CARD: Mylene: Charming Sea Witch with a knack for deals*

(With a coquettish giggle, Mylene summons a large bubble that she looks into, through which the scene changes to a dark, underground lair lit by blinking casino lights. A pair of dice rolls across a table, landing on snake eyes, before the camera pans up to reveal a huge, bulky teen with hollow eyes and skin made of dark burlap, grinning with pure malice as he turns his attention to the doors.)

*TITLE CARD: Ivan: A Gamblin' Man who'll scare your socks off!*

(The doors to the lair fly open as two children, one a fox hybrid wearing the mask of a devil, and the other a stuffy wearing an ominous witch mask, carrying a large sack that squirms and occasionally screams. We hear the sound of maniacal giggling, and a little girl with messy pigtails, hollowed out eyes, and dark purple burlap for skin darts into the room, leaping into her big brother's arms as they prepare to terrify his next victim.)

(The scene changes to what appears to be a hunting lodge, where a crowd is cheering as a very muscular and handsome young man lifts a bench with two girls sitting on it above his head. Smirking arrogantly, he takes in the praise of those around him.)

*TITLE CARD: Kim: Hotshot Hunter with the World's Biggest Ego*

(Perched on a countertop, a lovely young woman with freckles and a red pixie cut gazes at Kim adoringly, clapping with delight as she watches him show off his strength.)

*TITLE CARD: Ondine: Kim's 'Little Wife' to be (and biggest enabler)*

(The screen suddenly glitches out, before the scene changes to a cityscape being torn apart by a massive robot. At the helm of the terrifying weapon stands a boy with a sleek villain suit and his hair pulled back in dreads. He laughs maniacally as he directs his robot to knock down a skyscraper.)

*TITLE CARD: Max: Evil Tech Genius with a Super Grudge*

(The screen is suddenly slashed to shreds by a pair of unseen claws, and the scene shifts to a dense jungle. The trees tremble with a loud roar, and the camera pans to a girl with striped fur and wickedly sharp teeth, grinning menacingly as she crouches on a rock and prepares to pounce on an unsuspecting prey hybrid.)

*TITLE CARD: Alix: Queen of the Jungle and Predator Supremacist*

(The trees begin to waste away and die as the scene changes to a devastated savannah landscape, ridden with hyenas battling over kills. Perched on the highest rock is a boy with sharp claws and a scar over his right eye, grinning in amusement as he looks over the carnage, holding a small mouse by the tail as it attempts to run for its life.)

*TITLE CARD: Ismael: King of the Savannah with a killer scratch*

(The screen is suddenly painted red, before it clears and we hear a scream of "OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!". In a grove full of blood red roses, a young man with hair as red as the heart painted over his eye grins with absolute lunacy as he sends his battalion of card guards to apprehend a handful of terrified peasants.)

*TITLE CARD: Nathaniel: Mad monarch with a guillotine obsession*

(The camera zooms in on a mirror on the wall, which we travel through to another mirror, which is located in a dark and lavish throne room. In it is the reflection of a boy with jet-black hair and emerald-green eyes, smiling serenely as he proudly gazes upon himself.)

*TITLE CARD: Marc: Fairest of all the Lands and Poisons Expert*

(Marc reaches to caress the mirror brooch clasped to his lapel, where a young, raven-haired boy wearing a skull mask sits with a bored expression as he tosses daggers at the crystalline walls. This is Prince Kiran.)

(The scene shifts to the backroom of a dilapidated pawn shop, where a girl with ginger locks, wearing a garish purple coat admires a large diamond as she twirls it around in her fingers. Two large crocodiles are curled up at her feet, humming affectionately.)

*TITLE CARD: Sabrina: Diamond Enthusiast with a kidnapping rap sheet*

(With an ominous gust of wind, the scene changes to the interior of a large manor, long shadows cast from the musty velvet curtains. A girl with immaculate blonde curls, icy blue eyes, and a pristine yellow gown descends the stairs with her nose turned up. Servants cower in fear from her chilling glare.)

*TITLE CARD: Chloe: Woman of nobility and proud of it*

(The screen is covered with frost, which thaws to reveal a lavishly furnished sitting room, where a girl with golden locks tinted with pink, a frosty glare, and princely garb stands before a fireplace, glaring at a photograph of her family, which she then flicks into the leaping flames.)

*TITLE CARD: Zoe: 13th in Line with a dastardly plan for change*

(A flurry of official-looking documents suddenly covers the screen, before being swept away. The scene has changed to the city's capitol building, where a teen with dark, wooly hair and purpose in their step fingers the vial of nighthowler poison she plans to slip into its boss' coffee.)

*TITLE CARD: Cosette: Villain in Sheep's Clothing ready to take charge*

(With a poof of acrid purple smoke, the scene changes to a ramshackle little house, giddy and maniacal laughter echoing from within. From the window, we see a girl with wild blonde hair and eyes that hold sheer lunacy, shifting into various different animals as she fires indiscriminate hexes from her fingertips.)

*TITLE CARD: Aurore: Batty witch who loves the gruesome and grim*

(The camera suddenly plunges downward, going through the ground before showing a wide shot of the Underworld, Cerberus snarling as a boat floats down the river of souls. Within the boat stands a young goddess with a sullen expression and hair made of leaping blue flames. With a sneer, she fires a blast of flames at the souls pawing the sides of the hull.)

*TITLE CARD: Mireille: Goddess of the dead with a real anger problem*

(Two imps of the Underworld, the Kwamis of Pain and Panic, tremble with fear on the shores of the river as their mistress approaches them.)

(The screen is sliced in half by a sword with a jagged blade, and the scene changes to a fearsome army charging down a mountainside, led on horseback by a girl with inhuman black sclera and a vicious scowl, whipping her blade out of its sheath, raising it as she prepares to take another life.)

*TITLE CARD: Kagami: Genocidal General with a growing body count*

(The screen is suddenly overtaken by shadows, which clear to reveal a dark shop, the walls covered in ominous masks and dangerous talismans. Seated at the table and shuffling a deck of tarot cards, sits a tall teen with wild dark curls under a dapper top hat, laying three cards out on the table before them, smiling with a smooth assurance.)

*TITLE CARD: Denise: Hoodoo Doctor with charms to spare*

(The screen is suddenly consumed by flames, which recede to reveal the scene has changed to a large and ominously empty church. A young man with bright red hair and clad in religious robes, clutches the holy bible in one hand, while the other holds a torch that casts his face in unsettling shadows.)

*TITLE CARD: Simon: Religious Zealot with a holy love for evil*

(The scene shifts to the deck of a large pirate ship, the sail bearing the image of a leering Jolly Roger. Standing at the helm of the ship is an elegant young woman of Indian descent who wears a golden hook on her right hand. With an eager yet composed smile, she orders her crew to fire on another ship.)

*TITLE CARD: Reshma: Pirate-Captain-to-be with a love for pillage and plunder*

(The scene changes to a dark and dank street, where a figure lurks in the shadows. Stepping out of the dark and lowering the hood of her cloak, the figure is revealed to be a young woman with gray streaks in her blonde hair, caressing the blade of her dagger with a small smile.)

*TITLE CARD: Lacey: Cold-blooded killer obsessed with youth*

(The screen is covered by a shower of gold coins, and when they clear away, we are once again underwater, this time in a cave filled to the brim with all manner of treasure. Standing in the midst of the largest mound of gold is a teen with pincer-like claws and wearing more jewelry than should be possible.)

*TITLE CARD: Jean: Theatrical Crustacean with a Love for all Things Shiny*

(With his most charming smile, the crustacean presents a shining golden bracelet to a boy with the ears and tail of a wolf, who smiles giddily as he accepts it. Austin T, the corrupt young sheriff of Nottingham, and Jean's darling 'wolfy'.)

(With a clap of lightning, the scene changes to the oaken doors of a fortress-like school, with a sign that reads 'DuPont Reform Academy'. The doors ominously open on their own volition.)

(Standing just inside the door are two women with fairy wings, one with a bright and cheerful smile, and the other with crossed arms and a hard expression. Caline Bustier and Olga Mendeliev, awaiting the arrival of their dastardly students.)

(The camera pans over to a hallway, just off the main entrance. Clutching her books tightly to her chest, a girl with silky brown hair and doe-like green eyes walks quickly down the hall, keeping a lookout for the villains that seem to have it out for her.)

*TITLE CARD: Lila: Tender Heart who can Never Tell a Lie*

(The scene changes to a small table by a sunlit window, where a very prim young man with blonde hair and finely tailored dress clothes sips his tea with his pinky raised, before setting his cup down on the saucer and leaving for the main hall.)

*TITLE CARD: Felix: English Gentleman and Friend of the Fairies*

(The shot then changes to a different hallway, where a young man with a blonde ponytail, a guitar slung over his back, and a vacant expression wanders with his head high in the clouds...causing him to fall down the stairs.)

*TITLE CARD: Xavier: Spacey Dude who can hold a killer tune*

(With a loud bang, a door is kicked open by a girl of Native American descent with a fierce expression, while the robotic young woman by her side, her sister, shakes her head fondly before the two join their fellow heroes.)

*TITLE CARD: Jess & Aeon: Junior Officer Sisters who Kick Major Villain Butt*

(We hear a shout of fury, and a chair is flung across the room, the camera moving to the direction it originated from. We see a girl with three rows of sharp teeth, bared in a fierce scowl as she stands on guard for the villains.)

*TITLE CARD: Missy: Heroic shark with Bite and Bark*

(Peeking out from behind a pillar, sending off sparks with nervous energy, is a boy with smooth, scaly skin, and a twitching ghost eye. Beckoned by Missy, he joins the other heroes.)

*TITLE CARD: Jesse: Anxious Eel with an electric side*

(The heroes all start and take defensive positions as the doors slam open, allowing ominous green mist to pour into the room. The villains then enter the school, grinning malevolently. Coming together as a group, they all give maniacal evil laughter before the words "Class of Villainy" appear on the screen in a flash of green flames. The screen then goes to black.)

Time to EEEEVIIIL! Leave thoughts in the comments and reblogs!

#miraculous ladybug #class of villainy #disney au #ml au #mlb ocs #intro sequence #intro

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gh0stbeeee · 2 years

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Tell me why I think It'd be funny if 18 year old Light won.

Can you imagine, Light getting leverage over the Taskforce and locking them up in his super-evil-secret dungeon. L just being really fucking mad because he lost to an 18 yo TWERP, while Light does his maniacal little monologs in front of them like the malicious little megalomaniac he is?

Of course Light doesn't kill them, it would be much funnier to lock them up (in a really accommodating facility might he add) and let them watch as Light uses the world as his playground.

Just imagine the negotiation meetings; the most powerful people in the world nervously waiting for the monstrous Kira, imagining this big bad villain dude. Then in walks little pretty boy Yagami in his fucking little suit, smiling all nicely. They assume he's not Kira like, hey are you his assistant or smth? Then Light gets pissed, HE'S Kira and how dare they say that he'll fucking stab ur parents don't test him.

Light coming to see Soichiro, fucking pouting because why does everyone not think he's Kira??? He's literally so scary and intimidating it doesn't make sense >:/.

L, whose been getting the show of his lifetime chimes in across the hall "BECAUSE UR NOT EVEN 19 YET YOU LITTLE ASSHOLE" they get into another argument to the exasperation of everyone else.

Idk man this is comedy gold for me

#IM SORRY ITS JUST REALLY FUNNY TO ME #LIGHT IS BARELY AN ADULT #AND HE'S TRYING TO BECOME GOD #like good for you ya funky little murderer #but still #ryuk just here for the apples atp #death note #light yagami #kira #l lawliet #death note meme

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luvreyn · 3 years

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My Manhwa List (2021) Part 7

I sometimes put those that are considered as webtoons in my list ‘cause technically they’re also manhwas >.> hope everyone’s doing okay and get vaccinated when it’s available to you!

The Demonic Contract

Source: https://copincomics.com/?c=toon&k=185

Description:

Yurisina, the daughter of the demon king, has always wanted to become a full-fledged demon by making her first contract with a human. That's when Princess Marianne of the Pedin Kingdom summoned her to take revenge on Queen Orphelius who poisoned her, and asks Yurisina to live in her place...

THOUGHTS & WHY YOU SHOULD READ

- art = 5/5 top-tier

- plot = ..../5

- the demon contract thing is interesting but I guess that’s exactly why I was like uhmm ??? the following chaps

- it has potential so I'm sticking around though

- ML is a sword maniac literally lmao

- the MC is cute

- the comedy feels force sometimes or idk if it’s just me

- the demon kind is awesome that’s all

- and the 2nd ML (?) steals me from the ML every time he appears like how could someone be that beautiful!! Dibs!

- verdict: I got a mixed emotions about it and I’m tempted to just drop and forget it ever existed but the potential is there and it’s getting interesting with the recent chaps. You be the judge!

Like Wind on a Dry Branch

Source: https://www.webtoons.com/en/fantasy/like-wind-on-a-dry-branch/list?title_no=2405

Description:

As plague and turmoil afflicts the empire, enchanting widow Rieta Tristi finds herself at the mercy of a malicious nobleman and his dying wish to have her buried alive beside his corpse. The plague has taken her husband, slave traders have taken her young child, and now her own life is at risk -- until an unexpected visit from the empire's outcast prince changes everything.

THOUGHTS & WHY YOU SHOULD READ

- art = 5/5 gorgeous!!

- plot = 5/5

- basically this story is a blessing

- the dialogue, the monologue, the characters, everything everything is perfect

- a gem

- GIRL POWER!!

- ML is a feminist no doubt

- I love him and I love the MC and I love them all

- the villain/s is/are top-tier! they’re not dumby and they’re just e.v.i.l that it makes you want to crush them so they’re effective

- the MC’s development is a must watch!

- I just love this honestly. It’s a gem.

- Verdict: one of the best reads of my 2021!

The Evil Princess Dreams of a Gingerbread House

Description:

Following her reincarnation into the body of a storybook princess, little Asya only wants one thing: to bake lots of sweet and delectable desserts! Of course, her family is the poorest of the poor, but she’s willing to do whatever it takes to protect her dream and live a peaceful life surrounded by cookies. Unfortunately for her, Asya realizes that she is actually the malevolent Princess Anastasia, a girl who was blessed by a great and powerful spirit, whose hubris brings about her own miserable destruction. But where there’s a will, there’s a way, and Asya isn’t above using her childish charms and excellent baking skills to secure her safety! Plus, what could possibly go wrong when she has the mighty Spirit of Sensation at her side?

THOUGHTS & WHY YOU SHOULD READ

- adorkable

- art = 4/5

- plot = 3.5/5

- so very cute!!

- reincarnation/isekai

- light read (hopefully until the end) for your hearts~

- fam bond!

- S P I R I T S

- verdict, just the right amount of cuteness to my angst filled fam manhwa reads looks at wmmp >.>

Precious Daughter of the Greatest Martial Arts Villain

Description:

I’ve become a part of this Wuxia novel as Lihwa, the thoughtful and gentle daughter of Cheon Ma… who’s also the ultimate villain! Known as the Demon King and ruthless leader of the Demonic Sect, he resorts to kidnapping and other nefarious deeds to make sure a boy named Ak Wuryeon never reaches his full potential. Wuryeon doesn’t seem THAT bad, but I know he’ll one day exact his revenge on my father and that includes me! Can I escape the clutches of my father’s enemies and my doomed destiny before it’s too late?

THOUGHTS & WHY YOU SHOULD READ

- art = 4/5

- plot = 3.5/5

- adorkable!

- she’s so cute!

- father-daughter moments are gold!!

- grandpas who will you the world? check

- her power is cool!

- my only errr moments is the pacing >.>

- conclusion, a cute read!

Little Rabbit and the Big Bad Leopard

Description:

Vivi is a... wererabbit?! As a creature that’s supposed to transform into a human, Vivi is a failure, demonized as cursed and sent off to her doom. Luckily, her demise is cut short as Ahin of the Black Leopard Clan saves her. But with every threat and command this temperamental heir tosses at Vivi, she’s questioning her safety (and sanity). Surrounded by carnivores and their strong pheromones, she'll try to survive the chaos while stuck in her rabbit form. Will she figure out how to transform and tap into the power within her cute, furry self?

THOUGHTS & WHY YOU SHOULD READ

- art = 5/5 I cry it’s so pretty

- plot = 4.5/5

- they’re so beautiful seriously

- mom in law is the best!

- lmao ML is a sadist and a masochist

- the pacing is great!

- C O M E D Y

- C U T E N E S S

- you might be weirded by some scenes tho

- MC’s fam is trash

- everybody adores my lil babie (it’s the mc/fl btw)

- except for the villains

- a good concept!!

- verdict, a new fav!

#The Demonic Contract #Like Wind on a Dry Branch #shoujo #josei #manhwa #webtoon #manhwa recommendation #reynlist #reyn.manhwarecs #The Evil Princess Dreams of a Gingerbread House #Precious Daughter of the Greatest Martial Arts Villain #Little Rabbit and the Big Bad Leopard

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mandaloriandragontrainer · 3 years

Text

Can’t Breathe

AO3 link

Bill still haunts the twins’ dreams.

TW: panic attack

It was completely dark. No. Not completely. Thin slits of light filtered in, as though through someone’s fingers.

“Mabel,” Dipper groaned. “Stop doing that.” He reached up to pull her arms down, but found them stiff and unyielding.

“Wowee, you really do have noodle arms, Pine Tree.”

Dipper’s stomach fell to the floor. Not again. Not another dream. Why did they always seem so real?

“G-g-get away from me, B-Bill,” he demanded through chattering teeth. “You’re not real. You’re just-just another dream.”

“You think I don’t know that!? Stupid kid. And here I thought you were smart. I’m a dream demon, Pine Tree. Dreams are where I’m the most real.”

“Go away! You can’t do anything to me! You’re not here! You’re dead!”

Dipper’s feet were pulled out from underneath him. He was staring down at a black abyss, suspending by blue chains. “Look at you up there! Like a little piñata!”

“Leave me alone!” Dipper demanded, flinging his head back and forth searching for the demon. “Where are you!?”

“What kind of question is that, kiddo? You know exactly where I am.”

Hesitantly, Dipper let his gaze wander up... or down... to the abyss. He realized how it reflected like darkened glass. Two yellow eyes stared back, red-rimmed and psychotic.

His own eyes.

***

“You can’t have him!”

Mabel dug her feet into the ground, pushing back her brother’s body. Their whole life, they’d been equally matched. Why was he so much stronger now?

“This was his choice, Shooting Star! You think he’s so smart, dontcha? He should’ve known better than to trust me!”

Bipper flung Mabel back against the ground. “Face it, Shooting Star, your brother is mine. Just like you’re about to be.” He grinned maliciously. “Stanley will never be able to hurt his sweet little pumpkin pie.”

“Wha-what do you mean?”

“It’s like this, sweet’ums,” Bipper bent over and flicked Mabel’s chin. “You and your brother are my slaves now. Either you do exactly what I say when I say it or you’re dead. Worse than dead. Oh-ho, so much worse. Now shake my hand if you ever want to see your brother alive again, honeybun.”

“N-no!” Mabel put her hands to her ears. “This isn’t real, it’s all pretend! It’s just a dream!”

“Funny, your bro-bro said the same thing.” Her hands did nothing to drown out Bill’s maniacal voice. “Why do you fleshbags think a dream makes anything less real? You can’t escape me, babycakes. Even if you.... WAKE UP.”

Mabel screamed and flew up right. A dream. It was just a dream. She was here, in the Shack, in her bed with her purple nightgown and Sev’ral Timez pillowcase and stuffed pony and Waddles sleeping on the rug beside her. No evil laughter. Nothing to hear but her pig’s soft snoring and the buzz of the air conditioner and Dipper’s frantic panting.

Wait.

“Dipper? Are-are you okay?” She whispered.

Nothing but pained wheezes in response.

“Dipper?” She hopped from the bed, socked feet padding across the floor to her brother’s side. “Dipper, what’s wrong?”

Her twin was sitting up, one hand clutching his heart and the other steadying himself on the nightstand. “I-I-I can’t-I can’t-I can’t breathe...” he gasped. “I can’t breathe. Mabel. I can’t-I can’t!”

“Just-just try to slow it down,” she pleaded. “You’re hypervent-hypervent... that word! You’re breathing too fast!”

“Mabel, I’m gonna die,” Dipper choked. “Oh, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die...”

“Don’t say that!” Mabel wailed, tears springing to her eyes. “You’re not! Why are you saying that?”

Dipper fumbled for her hand. He was shaking so much. It terrified her.

“Grunkle Stan!!!” she bawled. “Grunkle Ford!!! Help, please help!!!”

Only a few moments later, footsteps thundered up the stairs in response. The door was kicked open and her grunkles burst into the room in their sleepwear, Stan wielding his brass knuckles and Ford pointing his gun at an invisible threat.

“What is it, Mabel, where’d he go?!” Stan exclaimed, furiously surveying the room.

“It’s Dipper!” She wailed, running to her grunkle and throwing her arms around him. “He can’t breathe and he’s dying!”

Ford quickly holstered his gun and knelt at Dipper’s side. “Mason, look at me. Look me in the eyes.”

“I-I can’t breathe, Gr-Grunkle Ford,” Dipper grabbed his hand in terror. “I’m d-dying.”

“Listen to me, Mason. You’re not dying. You’re having a panic attack. Look at me. I know it’s frightening, but you’re safe. I’m right here with you. You’re not going to die.”

“I-I can’t.... I can’t...”

“What’s 2 times 3?”

“Wha-what?”

“2 times 3, my boy.”

“S-s-six.”

“Very good. What about 28 divided by 7?”

“F-four.”

Mabel glanced back at her brother from Stan’s hug. “Why is he making him do math?”

“I think he’s trying to calm him down, sweetie. Must be a nerd thing.”

“Very good job,” Ford gently rubbed Dipper’s back. “See? Your breathing is already slowing down. Can you breathe in through your nose?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Excellent. Breathe in deeply and hold it if you can. Out through the mouth.”

Dipper obeyed, although his breath wobbled. Stan flipped on the light, and Mabel could see her brother’s sleep shirt was completely soaked through with sweat.

“I couldn’t breathe,” he mumbled, clutching his uncle’s fingers like a lifeline.

“Shhh, boy. Just focus on breathing. We need to bring your heart rate down.”

“See, pumpkin?” Stan kneeled to eye level with his niece and gave her a hug. “Your brother’s just fine. He’s not goin anywhere.”

“It was Bill,” Dipper whimpered. “He was in my dream. He stole my body again, but-but it was like I was still in it too.” He looked at Ford, brown eyes wide and afraid. “Was it just a dream, Grunkle Ford? What if he’s really there?”

“Bill’s astral form was destroyed, my boy,” Ford assured. “But even if he were able to piece himself back together enough to enter your dreams, you have to remember he can’t hurt you there.”

“It-it felt like he could...” Tears started to roll down Dipper’s cheeks. He buried his face in his knees, unable to keep his shoulders from shuddering. “I could feel everything and-and I couldn’t make it stop. Not like when we were in Stan’s head.”

“He said we were his slaves.”

“What?” Ford turned to Mabel, surprised by her statement.

“He-he was in my dream, too,” Mabel ducked her head under Stan’s arm, feeling as though Bipper could pounce her again if she didn’t stay hidden. “He was in Dipper’s body like he was at the puppet show. And-and he said me and Dipper were his and-and if we didn’t do what he said he’d hurt us really bad. And before I woke up he said that dreams were just as real as being awake.”

Ford was silent for a moment. “Come over here, Mabel.” She shuffled to him and let him lift her onto Dipper’s bed. “I promise you two are completely safe here. Stan and I will never let any harm come to you, understand?”

The twins nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“I wish I could tell you for sure that it wasn’t actually Bill you encountered. I wish I could tell you it was nothing more than a dream. But the truth is, I don’t know. It was foolish of me to be so certain he was gone for good. I promise you, I’ll find out for sure if he’s back, and if he is, together we will find a way to destroy him once and for all. But in the meantime, I’ll teach you how to combat him in your dreams.”

“What about tonight?” Mabel asked quietly, leaning against her brother’s shoulder. “I always sleep with Mom and Dad when I have a nightmare.”

“You-you can sleep with me,” Dipper offered.

“Why don’t both of you sleep in our room tonight?” Stan interjected. “Sixer and I will get started in the lab.”

“Your room?” Dipper wrinkled his nose. “Can we change the sheets first?”

“You wanna sleep outside, kid?”

“Maybe we could make a fort,” Mabel suggested. “I taped some extra unicorn hair in my scrapbook. We could use it to protect the fort.”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea,” Ford smiled. “You feel up to it, Dipper?”

“Yeah.” He slid down from the bed. “I’ll definitely sleep better.”

Stan watched the kids disappear down the stairs. “You really think you’ll be able to do something, Poindexter?”

Ford sighed. “I honestly don’t know. I’m still hoping these really are only just dreams. But you can never tell for sure when it comes to Bill.”

“Ah, if he shows up, I’ll just whallop him again. Didn’t hold up well against it last time.”

Ford shook his head. “Let’s make sure the kids are getting along all right.”

In their room, the grunkles found a lean-to of couch cushions covered with a sheet, unicorn hair pasted at the base. A crayon-colored sign stating “UNDER CONSTRUCTION” was taped at the top. Inside, the twins were collapsed in a heap, exhausted from the ordeal.

“They’re safe, Stanley.”

His brother smiled at him. “And we’ll keep it that way.”

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls fanfic #pines family #dipper pines #mabel pines #ford pines #stan pines #stanford pines #stanley pines #bill cipher #bipper #tw: panic attack #mason pines #hurt/comfort #mando writes

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chocosvt · 4 years

Text

⚬ pairing: mingyu x fem!reader | purge!au ⚬ word count: 15,728. ⚬ warnings: weapons, death, drugs, blood. ⚬ genres: ANGST, spicy/nsfw scenes, fluff to mend the heart, romance, action, and whatever else you could fathom lol.

✧✎ synopsis: the annual purge was a system of purification, alleviation, a supposedly psychological device in which people found a moment to unleash their indignation. you never purged until you met mingyu, a boy whose warmth was just as palpable as his darkness. you begin to fall for him, which means involvement with the evil he’s managed to attract.

✧✎ a/n: longer note at the end of the fic! sorry i’ve kept this in the vault for AGES bc i couldn’t figure out how to write in the ‘twist’ or whatever the fuck. you’ll know when you get there. anyways this is for @mihgyu (sorry it freakin took so long!) and @solgyus as they are my Resident Mingyu Stans. i also changed the title bc i thought... yknow... it fits better!

You had always wondered what life was like for the previous generation, the generation who grew up without acquaintance to the annual purge. It was an alien concept if any concept at all, one so foreign and inexplicably bizarre that the cogs in your mind would start jamming against each other in a struggle of comprehension. The education system had groomed its pupils into believing it was the only plausible way to recover from an economic collapse, feeding into gullible and malleable minds the possibility of clearing rage through bloodshed.

When your parents disappeared at dawn, leaving nothing behind but the sound of a lock clicking shut and a note advising you to stay away from the windows and doors, it could be assumed they’d return at morning with crimson-stained clothing, crusted lacerations, and heavy weaponry sealed taunt to their hands; or maybe they wouldn’t return at all. Yet you were taught to believe that was okay. At least if you didn’t have your family, you had your friends.

At least if you didn’t have your family, you had Mingyu.

As much as you despised admitting to yourself, Mingyu meant to you what the moon meant to the tides, what the sun meant to the meadows. He kept you in perpetual motion, allowed you room to recuperate and blossom into a much stronger version of yourself after your father never came home. When he lost his job your family lost its momentum. The last you ever saw of the man was his backside as he slipped through the door frame, a chortling in the evening air, a black revolver clasped to his hand.

He seemed to disappear alongside your mother’s sanity. She isolated herself and pushed everyone away, even you, the only person capable of nurturing her. In school you’d learned that the purge was supposed to bring purification, it was responsible for cleansing humans of the everyday stresses that slowly crushed them flat. Purging allowed them happiness; a twelve hour capsule to unleash what the law prohibited three-hundred-sixty-four days a year.

Yet when you looked to your mother, you didn’t see any traces of happiness or fulfillment, just an empty shell that sat with sunken eyes in her rocking chair, mumbling to herself like a toddler. Before you even had time to find closure after your father’s disappearance, your mother suffered a similar fate, abducted through the windowsill by a maniac who sought vengeance for the crimes committed beneath your father’s hand. He was a stingy businessman who often scammed to make his money, therefore collecting a myriad of enemies.

Notably, you didn’t start purging until you met Mingyu. The first time you’d ever used a gun with malicious intent was when you ran into the man responsible for abducting your mother. The kick-back from the trigger had you stumbling across the watered asphalt, the silver slick rain that caved down from the clouds washing away the minuscule spatters of his blood that blew onto your face. As he slumped down against the red bricks, the animation draining slowly from his eyes, he spluttered,

“S-She’s dead, she payed for your father’s incompetence, his greed.”

In complete lifelessness you lowered the weapon, not realizing how close the distant gunfire sounded until Mingyu had to drag you away by the wrist. He murmured his condolences to you when the air was tinged with less bloodshed, carefully nuzzling you into his chest when the reality of what you’d just done had come spiraling forth, leaving a slap so brutal across your face the burn seemed more realistic than the raindrops hitting your skin.

You felt disgusting, enclosed in a body that had been consumed by the purest form of hatred, and there was nothing you could do to evade the feeling of that ugly gun pressed into your hand. But within that same moment, hot tears pumping onto Mingyu’s shirt, you understood a certain satiation that tempted so many people to do what you had just done.

“We can’t stay here,” You felt the vibrations from his deep voice against your cheek, coolness stinging the heated flesh of your face when you lifted your head to meet his gentle eyes.

“Gotta keep moving, alright? It’ll be over soon, I promise.”

Mingyu’s composure was definitely an admirable trait. But then again, he’d been exposed to this environment long before you ever questioned purging. At that point you had felt completely numb, allowing him to wind you through the crevices and shadowy tunnels building the foundation of the city, your vision blurred by a mixture of salt and rain water. You felt safe with Mingyu, though it hadn’t always been like that. Before your friendship you were an outsider to the boy, harbouring nothing but a tiny crush toward him and his handsome face.

In fact the first time you’d ever spoken to Mingyu, it was after his fight with Wen Junhui, one of the most infamous, cynical purgers you prayed to never meet.

Two Years Ago –

“I’ll kill you if you come near her again!”

“Is that supposed to scare me?!”

You’d never seen a fist fight in real life before, and you were positive that was a good thing. A large crowd steadfastly increased around two tall, venom-eyed boys caught up in their alcohol. They were spitting profanities, threats, and whatever else their clouded minds could formulate within the gap of the other’s speech. The party had been rather lackluster before that point anyways, so like the congregation swarming to the centre of the room, you etched into the crowd and managed to stand just inside the inner circle.

“Shit – sorry,” you squeaked as you were suddenly shoved into the girl beside you. Your face became hollow like a crater on the moon when you saw that it was Mingyu’s girlfriend.

“What am I supposed to do?” She mumbled whilst biting her nails, “I didn’t know how to stop it.”

“Stop the fight?”

She continued babbling, “Junhui kept coming on to me and Mingyu saw. They’re both competitive, boggle-brained idiots when they’re drunk. I don’t know what to do.”

Her name was Yang Yeeun, born and raised by parents maintaining such wealth that rumours began circulating their bloodstream was crushed rubies. You could see her pearl earrings flashing behind the straight black locks framing her small face. You don’t think she ever took them off. Her father manufactured security systems for the purge; however, the most recent release had been proven to bore many defects and flaws. She didn’t care, as long as she got a slice of the wealth.

In the beginning, Yeeun and Mingyu’s relationship came as a slap to the wrist. How could two people reaping such difference in personality become so close? Yeeun was frank and staid, with cold, cindered eyes that never displayed an eclipse of emotion. Her complexion was just as pale as the pearls she wore and her heart swam darkly.

Mingyu was her polar opposite.

Sure he was intimidatingly tall, but any menace he constructed with his height was easily derailed through his bubbly nature. He was what you call, “a gentle giant,” and anyone who contacted him for more than a brief period understood this. The warmth was in his honey-brown gaze, the velvet of his tanned skin, the sepia tones that were shaggy in his hair. When he spoke you could feel the gravel roll beneath your feet, and when he said your name heat would flood your face like steam throughout a hot spring.

Again, Mingyu and Yeeun made a bizarre couple, yet he loved her so deeply you swore the dark coverings in her heart had peeled back a little.

You kept in mind, a little.

“They’re fighting over you?” You questioned carefully, trying not to exaggerate your words so that it seemed utterly impossible for her to be worth fighting over.

“Yes,” Yeeun gritted, her eyes darting around the crowd, strangers pressing into the circle, allured by drunken shouting, “can’t they wait until purge before they start ripping into each other?”

Wouldn’t it be best if they didn’t rip into each other at all?

“Like you said, they’re drunk and stupid,” you opted for the latter choosing.

Mingyu’s mellow stare had been licked over by enraged flames, the remaining liquor still pumping through his system and warming his blood until it sizzled. His fists were balled tightly, fangs peeking past the taunt snarl on his lips. Junhui appeared calmer, though the bar of composure was quite low to begin with. The unkempt ends of his midnight black hair were shaking, his sharp nose crinkled, and his stare so impossibly intense that you were nauseated a vein on his neck might become engorged and pop.

As interesting as it would be for you to witness your first fist fight, you knew it wasn’t a wise idea for these two to start swinging at each other.

You set a hand on Yeeun’s shoulder, “maybe you should stop thi—,”

Suddenly, her palms encased her mouth as the last few words of toxicity were spat between Mingyu and Junhui, the crowd erupting in brazen cheering as the two lunged for one another in a flash of blurred colour. Your jaw was permanently unhinged, your body set in stone, attention completely spellbound under the boys who were viciously entangled. The world seemed to spin at a snail’s pace whilst the fight flickered faster than lightning. At one point Mingyu had Junhui shoved up against the wall, one hand nearly ripping through the boy’s black-collared shirt as he tore his free fist back and swiftly launched it forward. The hard ridges of Mingyu’s knuckles connected with Junhui’s eye, his head smashed back into the drywall so that an indentation remained.

“G-Get the fuck off me, Mingyu!”

“You fucking asked for this, dumbass!”

In another fuzzy whirlwind of movement, Junhui managed to push Mingyu backward and onto the snack table, bowls and bottled alcohol spilling across the floor with jade shards of glass scattering in flurries. Junhui drew his fist into Mingyu’s face, the collision splintering against Mingyu’s brow bone. You could see the speckles of blood flying off Junhui’s hand as he curled his fingers into another ball, preparing to throw once more. Panic encompassed you from every angle; it drowned you above your head until the crowd’s bellowing became a muffled choir to your ears.

You could hardly breathe as your sights shifted to Yeeun, the girl with her hands still clasped to her mouth, doing absolutely nothing.

Was that a smirk hidden behind her hands?

She really did have a dark heart. By the looks of it no one was going to intervene. You were most likely the soberest person in attendance. Even if it downright petrified you, letting those two get their hands so bloodied it would look like they doused their arms in red paint wasn’t a viable option.

“Hey!” You barked, slowly etching your way into the clearing, “what the fuck is wrong with you two?! Get off each other!”

Mingyu and Junhui were still a violent mass now buckled to the floor, anger and alcohol swelling through their bodies like a drug. You felt your knees wobble, as though a tight fist had an ironclad grip on your entrails and was squelching them around slowly. Junhui had Mingyu pressed to the floor, and raised in his arm was a sparkling shard belonging to a smashed bottle. You didn’t know what it was, but something inside compelled you to react. In a mere instant you were ripping the shard from Junhui’s hand and screaming at the top of your lungs, the crowd’s cheering turned to hushed whispers.

“Enough!”

Your chest was heaving, fingers grasping the glass piece tightly enough that thin lines of red began dripping down your hand. Junhui and Mingyu had peeled themselves apart, the deep marring of hatred etched so profoundly into their eyes you’d never be able to forget it. Yeeun suddenly blossomed with emotion after standing on the outskirts smirking into her palm, the girl bounding toward Mingyu and snaking her arms around his neck like she’d been downright sobbing with worry the whole time.

“C’mon, Gyu,” she gritted, “we’re leaving.”

Thanks for the help.

You were tempted to call.

The fight between Mingyu and Junhui might have stopped, but the party continued to thrive. You were wandering through the upstairs hallway as the wooden floorboards jolted beneath you, driven by incessant music that became a furthering echo. Fresh blood had yet to stop streaming down the grooves between your knuckles, pooling from the lacerations of that jagged, glass shard and wetting your warm skin. You continued seeking for a bathroom, any room really that might contain a first aid kit, or at least some water and tissues that would help to clean your hand.

Each room was either occupied or locked. A defeated sigh ghosted from your lips as you stood at the end of the hall, weakly knocking your healthy hand against the last door. Scarlet drops were creating a puddle on the wood whilst you waited, until the brass handle jiggled and you were stepping back in shock that someone had actually acknowledged your presence.

Of course, the person doing the acknowledging had to be Yeeun.

“Oh! It’s… you.” She murmured. Behind her slim frame you could see Mingyu sitting on the sink, holding a cloth to his eyebrow.

“It’s me,” you replied, desperately wanting to skip the small talk and use the first aid kit. Didn’t she say she was leaving?

Yeeun finally noticed the red pathways on your hand and nodded, “I see you need to get yourself bandaged up.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” You hummed, trying not to sound impatient but utterly failing.

“Well… I’ll be right back then. Just so you know there’s no gauze left.”

“That’s okay, I don’t think I’ll need an—,”

“I’m going to look for some!” Yeeun called as she squeezed her way past you and began trudging down the corridor, “be back soon!”

Mingyu tossed you a lopsided smile when you entered the bathroom. You kicked the door shut with your foot to drown as much noise as possible. Though the small barrier didn’t do too much in regards to sound, it certainly made the bathroom feel one-hundred times smaller. Or maybe it was solely Mingyu and his gargantuan height. Perhaps it wasn’t any of those factors and you were just feeling nervous to be enclosed in a private space with him. Either way, your face turned into magma and you felt like swallowing sand. Without saying a word you turned on the sink and let the cold water stream between your fingers.

“Hey.” He began.

Oh no. If you initiate conversation with me there’s a ninety-nine percent chance I’m going to fall in love with you.

“Thanks for intervening. You kinda saved my life there.”

You scoffed whilst scrubbing the dry scarlet from your wrist, “I think you could have taken him.”

Mingyu took the wet cloth from his brow and folded it over before reapplying pressure to his own wound, sighing deeply. “Fuck this. I hate getting drunk.”

Fastening your teeth into your lower lip, you remained silent and continued swirling around the bloodied skin until the red currents seemed to all drain away, down the white porcelain. You winced a little because there was indeed a stinging sensation, but it was better than allowing the cuts to get infected. Mingyu’s curious gaze was watching the scene intently, and with his body propped right next to the sink, there was really no easy way to avoid your feelings other than to talk with him.

“How’s your injury?”

“I don’t know, how is it?” He peeled the damp cloth from his brow bone. You could see that directly in the centre the skin had spilt, a little ways above the brow and a little beneath it, bright pink flesh gleaming from between the dark hairs and tanned skin. It would definitely leave a scar.

“I’m no doctor, but you might need stitches.”

“Seriously?” Mingyu grimaced. “That fucking sucks.”

You scoffed. “That’s funny. The same kid who socked Junhui in his eye is afraid of getting a few itty bitty baby stitches.”

Mingyu pouted, his thick brows then slanting downward which made him wince petulantly. You couldn’t suppress your chuckling, turning off the sink with a coy smile playing along your mouth.

“I’m joking.”

“I know.” Mingyu said. “I’m sure everyone’s gonna start saying he’ll rake my eyes out at purge.”

You laughed at that too, though deep down you both knew it wasn’t anything flowery to laugh about. Junhui was the definition of nefarious. Similar to Yeeun his family danced in riches, their security systems were top-notch, and his access to weaponry and blueprints of the city could be in his hands within minutes. People worshiped the ground he walked on, but it wasn’t because they liked him. It was only sensible to play nice to the person capable of taking your life away in a single breath.

Of course, Junhui’s reputation made him a prime target, yet despite all the people who secretly wanted him dead, it was difficult to even lay a scathe on his amber skin.

In your eyes it was better to avoid the boy altogether. That way you never gave him any reason to seek out your oblivious-self during the annual purge. Mingyu had crossed that line to the fullest extent. He laid more than an innocent scathe on Junhui; the boy had given him an entire fist to his pretty, supposedly untouchable face. Feeling your heartbeat thump widely, you quickly willed to change the subject.

“Do you see any cloths? Or Kleenex? Anything?”

Mingyu frowned. “Sorry, nothing.”

You shook your arm out over the sink to shed some water droplets, yet the blood still continued to bead. Mingyu looked sympathetic. He presumed it was his fault you were even injured in the first place.

“Yeeun’s getting gauze.”

“I think I’ll be okay—,”

“Wait!” Mingyu suddenly piped. “This might be super awkward but—,” the boy’s tongue peaked out between his pink lips as he gripped the end of his white t-shirt and gave it a tear, pulling off a strip of fabric.

Your cheeks began crackling and your palms felt oddly clammy, “M-Mingyu, don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“Doesn’t matter,” the boy said, “this shirt’s old and busted anyways. It’s better than walking home, dripping blood everywhere.”

You smiled softly and stared at the floor.

“Here! I’ll even wrap it for you.” He purred, gently reaching for your arm and twining the white material like a roll of bandages around your hand.

Forgetting about his own spilt brow that began clotting with blood, Mingyu finished his dexterous work with a tender glance that made your stomach flip, his chocolate bangs falling endearingly before his eyes. After shaking the fringe away, he gave you a thumbs-up.

“Now you look like you just got into a fight.”

“Right, because I’m the first person everyone suspects to start a fight. You hit the nail on the head with that one.”

Mingyu chuckled at the heavy sarcasm, blinking his pretty lashes at you with such warmth you keened to melt like an ice cream cone. You supposed after that moment, Mingyu might not be nearly as brutal as his drunken, love-induced mind influenced him to be. For a fleeting moment you even doubted that this was the same boy with his own kill-list. His eyes glimmered like diamonds catching a shaft of light.

“That’s something only time can tell.” He purred

Two Years Ago –

When Mingyu and Yeeun broke up, it was like the universe took its cue to make everything in life feel unreal. If their romance was nothing more than a mirage, then had romance ever existed in the first place? At least to you, it routinely appeared as though Yeeun’s heart had never been within the same realm as Mingyu’s. There was always an island of separation between them, one little ploy that prevented the couple from truly clicking like puzzle pieces. That ploy was exigent in the form of onyx hair, a sultry voice, and bottomless eyes.

In other words the obstacle was Junhui. Yeeun started dating him no less than a month after the break-up.

Mingyu, he was crushed; taking the point of devastation and expanding it an extra nine yards. In contrast with Yeeun’s heart, his was always wide open, warmer than a summer fire and more embracing than sun rays. You swore she would be the girl he took to meet his mother, the girl whose finger he delicately touched to slide upon a silver loop. A part of you crumbled each time you saw them together, before the break-up, and even more so after the party.

Remembering how his rough fingertips skimmed the wet (and surely burning) skin of your hand as he wrapped the cloth around it did something peculiar to your mind. Reminiscing on the soft timbre of his chuckles made your head spin, and replaying the manner in which his eyes twinkled as he gazed at you through his thick bangs brought forth fluttering in your stomach. It was what you were daydreaming about even after their infamous break-up, fingers clacking against the keys on your laptop whilst you finished an essay in the library. To your dismay, the thoughts were scattered by conversation at the table behind you.

“Think Junhui is gonna gut Mingyu at purge?”

“Probably not, Mingyu would be expecting it. And it’s not like he’s hopeless. Did you hear about how he stabbed someone to death in the tunnel last year?”

“Yeah. But Junhui’s clique practically owns the purge. They’ll tear your fuckin’ house down if they can find it.”

“…True. Those two seriously have some bad fucking blood. Do you remember the rumours about how Junhui sho— ”

Unable to listen any longer without this horrendous churning against the walls of your stomach, you shoved your laptop into its carrying case, swung it over your shoulder and began shuffling between the book shelves. Your stare traced the floor whilst a pummeling sensation thundered into your ribcage. Mingyu didn’t seem like the type to kill, though you didn’t know him personally, and perhaps he had matters of vengeance that crooned for redemption. This tiny hope inside you flickered, prayed that Mingyu was unlike Junhui, the kind that tortured for torture’s sake, the kind that shoved a pistol beneath your jaw because you looked at them funny.

Suddenly, you collided with someone. Blinking upward, you gazed at the body you’d walked into, Mingyu, who was in the midst of pulling out a book.

“Sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You apologized.

You hadn’t seen him for a while, but he looked healthy, a bit tired perhaps, but mostly healthy. Dressed in comfy clothing, a grey hood drawn with his earbuds plugged in, he popped one of the speakers out and lent a small smile. His eyes were slightly veiled by his earthy bangs, the coarse fronds wavy in front of his forehead. His scent was a concoction of something tropic mixed with cannabis, and when he spoke his voice was lower than usual.

“Were you leaving?” Mingyu asked.

Yes.

“No, no. I wanted to finish my essay somewhere that wasn’t... back there.”

“Oh,” he sighed, “seemed like you were in a rush.”

“I was just thinking.”

Mingyu stuck the book back into its gap and smiled, “about?”

You sniffled. “What?”

“What were you thinking about?”

Obviously you were not going to admit that you just overheard conversation about Mingyu being gutted under Junhui’s hand, about Mingyu supposedly cramming a knife through whoever’s chest during last year’s purge, about Mingyu’s history of participation in the annual mayhem that plagued the country like a sickness each year. Now that the purge was on your mind, a dark worry skulked in the shadowy crevices of your brain, yet it seemed to dissipate just as quickly as it arrived when Mingyu stared at you so gently.

“How much I hate essays.”

He nodded. “That must be it.”

Without thinking, you blurted, “what happened with your eyebrow? Did you get a scar?”

He simply carded back the bangs covering his forehead and poked at the nick with his finger. It would have been courteous to receive a warning that he was going to reveal his forehead. He had no clue how powerful a mechanism it truly was, how badly you wanted to kiss that tiny scar after seeing the slit through his brow. Swallowing the flushed heat that arose in your throat, you grinned with a closed lip.

“Well, it makes you look like a badass if that’s any comfort.”

Mingyu let his hair flop back into place and laughed quietly. “What’s up with your hand? That cut looked so nasty.”

Looking down at your fingers, you probed the faint lines of where the glass had sliced your skin, engraved almost, like a stone carving.

“Kinda. It doesn’t look as cool as your eyebrow slit though. And you’re way less busted than Jun. His eye is still purple.”

For a brief ellipse you simply embraced the opportunity of being alone with Mingyu. That some higher deity had taken pity on your life barren with romance and granted you this precious exchange to add to your vault of daydreams. The more his hoarse voice lapped at your ears, surely roughened yet equally soothing, you felt your chest create a burrow for him, a gap that only he could fill. It baffled you, that Yeeun could break his heart. But it didn’t surprise you. She was built from titanium, similar to Junhui, and together they were hawks that would make prey of everyone.

“Trust me,” Mingyu said, “it wouldn’t make me feel any better if we were matching.”

His jaw clenched, and his stare slipped to the floor for a transient moment. A nearly imperceptible breeze tickled up the back of your neck, causing you to rub at the fine hairs as Mingyu’s usual aura slowly dissipated into a much darker nuance. You gulped, attempting to laugh something of comfort back into the air.

“There’s a lot we could match in, like... bracelets! Or a necklace! Or one of those couple t-shirts... Not that we’re a couple,” stuttering helplessly, you felt electricity tingle in your cheeks, “I was just thinking about matching stuff and that popped into my hea—”

“It’s fine.” Mingyu responded, the storm clouds cast in his gaze finally ebbing away. He smiled, and a deep chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“You’re pretty cute y’know? I don’t think I’d mind.”

1 year ago –

You never spoke commonly to Mingyu about the idea of purging until you were thrust into the political nightmare on a whim, a stupid, stupid, moonstruck whim. The few times the morbid topic arose seriously, neither of you had enlightening stories to exchange. A bitter knot lodged itself into your throat the night you reiterated to Mingyu about the tragedies concerning your parents; the disappearance of your father and the abduction of your mother, a tearful lining glossy in your eyes.

You’d never seen Mingyu express such grief when he returned the storytelling.

He moved out from his parent’s house when he was eighteen years old, his best friend, Minghao, making the journey alongside him. Faintly, you remembered Minghao, more or so from your high school days when you shared the same last period art class. He had always been rather subdue, never really speaking with anyone apart from Mingyu, though there had was a handful of times where you caught him and another boy, Wonwoo, skipping class together. Apparently Wonwoo didn’t have a very good home life. He’d supposedly been forced into purging since middle school, and his psyche never quite recovered.

You never even saw Wonwoo smile apart from when he was with Minghao.��

However, one day that boy from your art class just disappeared, and the rumours hadn’t stopped swirling since. It was a common fact that Minghao never purged. He didn’t have any bad blood with anyone either.

Not that you were aware of.

In the beginning stages of Mingyu’s purging he used to commonly venture with a group of three friends. Wonwoo happened to be one of them, plus another named Jihoon (who you could recall dawdling around in the background of the party) though Mingyu never named the third. He described it as being pure, inexplicable dread. They were constantly finding themselves in gruesome situations that forced their true colours from camouflage, how they stole burning glimpses of the other when the night came to an end and blood was caked to their clothing. The purge had tainted all of them, some more than others, whether it be with drug addiction, eternal madness, or an unhealthy fascination to mend so seamlessly with the evil that they personified it.

However, genuine fear pitted in the core of your stomach when Mingyus’ fists had clenched in his lap, his features distracted by a look of anguish as he sucked in a breath and spoke in an unsettling, distant tone.

“It was four of us in my car. I was driving, Wonwoo and Jihoon were in the backseat, and he... he took up the passenger seat. It was different... How he reacted to the purge... The rest of us were still somewhat fearful of it but he almost thrived in all the destruction. We were even talking about going purging without him the next year, but...

Mingyu had to clear his throat.

“I guess Minghao was waiting for me to come back to the house. He probably wasn’t even waiting on me specifically, he had this little crush on one of my friends, Wonwoo. They were always messing around together. Minghao probably got excited when he heard us, so he came outside, onto the grass... But then I heard the pop of the gun out the open window... I just... I don’t fucking know if he thought Minghao was a maniac or... If he was on drugs or something... But, God... He just —“

You didn’t allow him to say anymore when his words became warped, when his voice cracked and his eyes split like a sheet of broken glass. Minghao didn’t just disappear - he was killed, and Mingyu knew who was responsible. Instead of pressing him for details, you reached for his hand, rubbed your thumb along his knuckles, made sure he knew that you were there for him.

And yet you had been thrust into the setting of the same picture during your first purge, the first time you had ever experienced what it was like to harm someone, turning their existence into an irreparable patch in the universe.

This is your emergency broadcast system, announcing the commencement of the annual purge.

At the siren, all crime, including murder, will be legal for twelve hours.

All emergency services will be suspended.

Your government thanks you for your participation.

“This is going to be your entire fault if I die tonight, Mingyu! I just want you to know that!”

“Relax. You’re going to be fine. We’re going to be fine.”

It was nothing short of chaotic. Pitch blackness shrouded the skylight like a heavy cloth, the distant rattle of gunfire and screams sitting heavy in the air as you raced down the street. The horrendous acts were most commonly centred to the city’s heart, where prime businesses, rich corporations, and notorious killers congregated to create havoc. Still, that didn’t make you any less petrified, your nails sinking into Mingyu’s hand like dog’s teeth. Fights were slowly beginning to litter the sidewalk, a store going up in orange flame and hissing embers now glinting behind you.

“I knew that we weren’t going to make it back to your place on time. I knew it was stupid that we even questioned going out on purge in the first place - Ah!”

You shrieked at an unprecedented decibel as two men came tumbling out of the alleyway only meters away from your feet, your body slamming into Mingyu’s backside when he cemented himself to a halt. The men payed no notice to you, entirely engulfed in their own world of vengeance through bloodied fists and messy punches.

“This way.” Mingyu’s words were like a breeze in the midst of a hurricane.

You hardly registered he’d even said anything until his grip lurched you forward and you were stumbling to the opposite side of the street. Then, your jogging pace skyrocketed into running, the breaths just squeezing from between your lips and the pain in your chest aching so potently you felt like vomiting. Your stamina was breaking faster than glass. You couldn’t afford to run any longer.

“M-Mingyu, can we please stop?”

The boy didn’t seem to have a choice as your fingers began unclasping from his hand, your body collapsing on the concrete staircase belonging to the city bell tower. Mingyu anxiously carded his hair back, his eyes moving hyperactively down the street only to be greeted with more and more violence consuming his vision. Gunshots seemed to thunder from every direction, splintered shouts joining hymn. Large trucks blared down the black pavement with ominous members hunched in the open cap, holding weaponry and wearing masks of painted wood.

The boy squatted down, his palm firmly encasing your cheek and keeping your head up.

“I’ll give you a minute. But then we have to keep going. It’s too dangerous to stay in one spot.”

You stared into Mingyu’s face with a tiresome expression, the bronzed and gleaming hue of his skin reflecting the fire that crackled in the distance. His touch became sterner as he moved in closer, his eyes no less than a few inches from your own.

“Trust me, I know you’re exhausted. We’re gonna be at my place soon though, okay? You just gotta hold tight for a little longer.” He pressed his forehead against yours, and met your gaze head on. “I’m going to keep you safe, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

An intruding shout echoed a little too closely down the street, engendering you to choke on your own heartbeat. Mingyu growled in irritancy, pivoting his head and glaring at the stranger who stepped from an alleyway. Rather than looking frightened (you were on the verge of sobbing bullets), Mingyu’s forehead crinkled angrily, the tiny scar that cut through his brow beginning to slant.

“Stay put.” Mingyu commanded you.

There was a colder lining to his tone that you’d never heard before, malevolent and icy. As soon as his touch fell from your cheek, you knew his hands were about to tend to a much different matter. Your mind implored for you to look away, yet your heart waned for the exact opposite. The man was scraggly and a bit stockier than Mingyu, a mischievous intent welling in his movement as he seemed to dance back and forth like a hummingbird. He wore a smooth, white mask and a heavy brown coat that bore many unidentified stains, a long, curved blade in his hand.

“You’re just a kid,” the man taunted, “it’s always the younger crowd that get so riled about the concept of murder, think they’re all that, but they drop faster than flies when it comes down to it.”

Mingyu didn’t waver. “You should keep talking if you want that knife poking through the opposite side of your throat.”

You inhaled stiltedly. This was definitely not the same Mingyu who smiled with the power of a burning star, his mannerisms filling your chest with laughter and his golden eyes bathing your face with heat. You thought back to the library, the conversation that drawled behind you. This was the Mingyu they were talking about. You had a feeling that the innocent projections in your head were close to changing.

The man chuckled and pointed his knife, shaking it at Mingyu, “you’ve got the same cockiness as that rich China boy’s little clique. I’m sure you’ve heard about them. They’ll be flocking to the streets any minute now.”

Mingyu spoke gutturally in response, the disgust and repulsion so thick in his voice you almost couldn’t recognize it. “Don’t you fucking dare compare me to him.”

The man chuckled darkly, “hit a nerve, did I?”

You weren’t sure what happened next, mainly because it all happened so fast, a series of swift movements (on Mingyu’s behalf) that resulted in your pulse fizzling like hot oil. Ultimately you were going to be exposed to murder one way or another, though watching it reflect in the glassy curve of your own eyes left behind a deep scarring. The man lurched at Mingyu with his hefty blade slashing for the chest, most likely assuming that because of Mingyu’s height he would be quite slow and lack agility.

However, that was severely not the case, to the man’s dismay more than anyone else’s. Within the span of sixty measly seconds Mingyu had tripped him onto his back, snatched the blade from his grip and wedged the knife directly into the man’s windpipe, exactly as he said he would do.

At that point you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. Mingyu’s breathing was level as he rose from the man’s waist, a burgundy pool of blood bubbling at the neck where the blade had punctured skin. Mingyu lifted his jacket, pulled the knife out, and attached the weapon through his belt. He spent an extra few moments patting the fresh corpse down until he uncovered a small revolver hidden in the inside pocket on the man’s coat. When Mingyu handed you the revolver in means of protection, you didn’t realize you were shivering.

“Now,” he pronounced, “we’re going home.”

And at the time you believed him.

Until thirty minutes stretched into an hour, an hour into two hours, three hours, four hours. The chaos that was the purge had encompassed you both. This supposedly psychological device controlled you like a ventriloquist. Violence sneered at every turn and eventually an unspoken conclusion emerged; that it was easier to join chaos than it was to run from it. Later that night everything came full circle.

You were the one pointing the weapon, aiming the silver barrel into the face of the man who had broken in your home and abducted your mother last year, on account of stupid, petty crimes your father had committed in the past. Seconds before touching the trigger, all you could picture was his face swathed in moonlight, the horror that clawed in your stomach when you ran down from your room that night to see him yanking her out the smashed window.

And when you felt the release of the bullet, it became emboldened that it truly was a small, cruel world.

Present –

Squeezing one eye shut, you held the black gun with both hands and aimed the muzzle toward a tree stump that acted as your target, a cheek pressed into the taunt muscle of your shoulder as you inhaled a steadying breath. Delicate winds blew across the meadow, each strand of grass rippling in a hypnotic wave. The horizon lay beyond the tree trunk, a bleeding yellow sun submerging quietly behind the endless terrain, casting a honeyed glow to speckle like rain droplets upon your face.

There was not a single sound apart from the grassy fronds tickling against each other, your concentration solidifying to a mar in the tree bark. Then, your finger ghosted over the trigger, a sharp burst echoing into the pale yellow sky and causing a distant congregation of birds to take flight. The bullet struck the wood, right where you had envisioned the lead entering.

“Look at you,” the tension keyed into your bones drifted away, exiting your body in a shallow exhale once Mingyu’s prideful tone filled the spaces between the winds, “your shot may be even better than mine now.”

After lowering the firearm to face the earth and switching the safety on, a demure smile danced across your lips. Mingyu’s arms were strong and looping carefully around your waist, hauling you back into the broad expanse of his chest. He buried his face into the smooth plane where your shoulder met your neck, his soft locks feathering along your jaw. You giggled the second his lips kissed your shoulder, evening sunlight spilling across the meadow and encouraging heat to caress your skin.

“The student becomes the teacher,” you purred, “I even remembered to turn the safety on this time.”

“You’re damn right you remembered to turn the safety on,” the boy quipped sternly, his palms gliding downward to grip your hips and spin you around, “you almost took my kneecap off the last time.”

Furrowing your brows, you pursed your lip at him petulantly, “can we stop talking about that? It was a mistake you big idiot.”

“I know, I know,” Mingyu cooed, “a very, very, very dangerous mistake.”

You rolled your eyes as he unwound the black firearm from your fingers. He walked toward his jacket that sat on the blanket you’d strewn across the grass, making sure to place it back inside the pocket.

“You still need some more practice, but I think for today we can call it quits. How does that sound?”

The boy then fell back onto the blanket with his head titled to the side, his eyes staring up at you winsomely. With the sun flaring behind you, the vibrant streaks set the grass aflame, making it appear as though Mingyu was sitting in the centre of a fire. His skin twinkled like golden silk and his canines peaked between his lips in a smirk. Shrugging your shoulders impetuously, you stumbled toward the blanket and fell into the boy’s lap, squirming against his broad body until he became pinned beneath your weight. As though he were a glass vase, you gingerly swept your finger along his scarred brow.

“Sounds fine,” you hummed, “since I kinda wanna makeout with you right now.”

“I love how straightforward you are, baby.” Mingyu confessed with his intoxicated gaze drinking in your image, already imploring for a taste of the strawberry balm that defined the pretty arches of your mouth.

Unable to quell how your body yearned for him, you gave your eyes a toss and pressed your lips to his. Mingyu craned his neck forward in immediate desperation to feel more pressure against his mouth; however, he soon gave up his craning and allowed his elbows to give out beneath him. His hands snuck beneath your shirt, to which he placed soft squeezes against your ribcage, fingertips skimming lower and lower until they were running along the back hem of your shorts. You continued to straddle his waist as the kiss drawled further, rhythmically slow and sweet.

You didn’t think it was humanly possible for your chest to be so encompassed with fondness, yet here you were, brushing your digits through Mingyu’s tresses, pressing your forehead to his, encasing his lower lip between your teeth to experimentally tug until the flesh swelled and glistened in garnet. You weren’t really sure how you started dating, it just sort of happened. It was perhaps an escalation of lingering touches, infatuated glances, and hot, fever dreams that kept you both slamming awake at blue midnight.

After your first purge together, the connection between you strengthened, like welding two pieces of molten iron into one. It was an experience that ruined you, stripped you of any innocent fragments still clinging to your bone, and once the night came to an end and you were sitting on Mingyu’s bed with blood spatters sopped into your cloths, you burst into tears. Strangely, you weren’t sobbing out of pain, mortification, you were sobbing because you could. It was the only accurate way to depict the weird melancholic, hopeless lump in your throat.

You squeaked as Mingyu grew impatient of your slow kisses. His want was increasing and he couldn’t bear to hear the quiet mewls that kept slipping from your mouth. His strength effortlessly allowed him to flip you on your back, his mass keeping you slack against the blanket as his lips dotted your jaw, your ear’s cusp, until he craved to taste more of the natural salt on your skin and his kisses ventured further down your throat.

Mingyu began suckling at a sensitive patch near your pulse. The warmth of his tongue combined with his teeth, and you felt him scrape his canines sharply against your skin. It wasn’t until the boy nudged his thigh between your legs that your fingers lurched into his scalp, tugging the earth fronds tightly. You couldn’t help but buck up against him, summoning a growl from his chest that only made him press his fangs into the soft skin with more force; not enough to actually break the petal-thin flesh, but enough to leave deep, possessive indentations. The ecstasy drumming in your veins was insatiable.

And yet, you knew it couldn’t progress.

With a fragile whine you placed your hands against Mingyu’s chest and gave the giant a small push, his mouth regretfully detaching from the beautiful marks he was intent on leaving all over your body. He spoke coarsely, breathlessly, when his rosy face surfaced from your neck, though the glaze in his eyes had quickly softened out of fear he’d made you uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong? I wasn’t being too rough, was I?” He gathered your hand in his and kissed along your knuckles apologetically.

“No, not at all,” You mumbled, still dealing with the blare of crimson running through your veins, “I just… Don’t think we should, do it, in a field.”

The hollow grooves in Mingyu’s features immediately flushed with solace, a large sigh escaping from his chest as he allowed his head to tumble into your shoulder.

“Thank God, I thought I hurt you or something,” he heaved in relief.

Your heart sang wildly, knowing that he truly was a boy gentler than butterfly wings and softer than cotton. It was difficult to imagine him as the same boy who ruthlessly shoved a blade through a man’s windpipe, allowing thick trails of blood to slide from the open wound and create morbid puddles on the hard cement. The evening air seemed to turn cooler, the wind’s peaceful lilting now picking up with more vigor. Mingyu collapsed at your side, one of his long legs still tossed over your waist as you stroked his hair.

With the sun halfway behind the horizon, you gulped whilst watching the yellow sky fade into watered, fierce shades of orange.

“Mingyu?” You hummed.

“Yeah?” His warm breath scattered in a ticklish manner against your neck.

“What’s going to happen with you and Junhui?”

Mingyu stiffened instantly. Nibbling on your lower lip, you watched with sincere eyes as the boy lifted into a sitting position. You joined him, closely monitoring the contours of his face that had surely twisted at the mention of the sinister purger. There was no room to blame Mingyu for harbouring such distaste toward the boy. Junhui did swoop in and steal his ex-girlfriend fresh after the breakup and run purge night like he invented the device himself.

Still, you wondered if there could be something more. If there could be a more profound explanation for why the air was so stale between them.

“Nothing is going to happen,” Mingyu said flatly, “are you scared?”

Caught off guard by his sudden questioning, you stumbled over your syllables for a painful second, his gaze turning back to wrack you curiously.

“N-No, I was- I just- I was only wondering.”

“He’s too obsessed with himself to care about me. Don’t worry, okay? Nothing is going to happen, baby.” Mingyu said in a much lighter tone, his signature, canine smile quirking along his lips.

Despite his calm protrusions, you could sense that something murky was swimming behind the curve in his eyes. The boy leaned backward and planted his lips against your forehead, leaving a small, adoring kiss. Shaking away the ominous tension that came with simply speaking the purger’s name, you grasped for Mingyu’s hand and smiled.

“Let’s head back into town.”

He set his jacket as well as the blanket in the backseat and climbed to sit at the wheel.

“Don’t forget about that, y’know,” you reminded him whilst gesturing to his jacket, “it’s not like there’s a gun in there or something.”

“A gun with the safety on.” He replied sheepishly, to which you simply huffed and stared out the window.

You stopped Mingyu when you were no less than a block away from your new apartment building, the tires crunching to a halt beside the common coffee shop.

“I’ll get out here,” you told him, “I’ll be fine to walk back to the complex. I just really want caffeine.”

Mingyu leaned over and pushed the car door open for you, his palm tenderly grazing your thigh as he found your lips. He gave you a quick goodbye kiss, and you felt flowers bloom between the bones of your ribcage.

“Text me when you get home, alright?” He reminded when you slid from the passenger seat.

Scurrying into the coffee shop, you already had an idea of what drink you’d like to get. As you stood off to the side waiting for an employee to call out your coffee, you fell into a slight trance, your eyes casting mistily across the cozy atmosphere whilst the sky began darkening beyond the clean window panes. You thought about Mingyu, how laughable it was that you were dating, and yet you knew you loved him like ink loves to kiss paper.

Hm, you chuckled inwardly, that girl sitting in that booth by the window, she looks like Yeeun, and that guy beside her really resembles Junhui. That’s funny.

That’s funny.

That’s… funny…

“Order 24, half decaf, two sugars one cream.”

To your inexplicable terror, heart-twisting dread, and every other repulsive emotion that could have cloaked you in that moment of realization, the couple sitting at the window booth was indeed Junhui and Yeeun. The employee called out your order again, this time a little louder, drawing customers to look left and right with puzzled glances. The nefarious couple was sitting across from two familiar faces, one with jet black hair brushed away from his forehead, the other disquieting with how vacant his face appeared, a grey beanie pulling back the fronds from his porcelain features, and a lollipop shoved between his lips.

It took you a minute, but you eventually recognized the lollipop boy as Wonwoo. He looked insanely different compared to your outdated, high school memories, where he was just a scrawny, fox-faced boy with the straightest black bangs you’d ever seen, always running around next to Minghao, getting pink in the face when the younger so much as smiled at him. It was evident that purging had completely hardened his face, his aura, to which he developed an almost sinister light. Whoever he was now, he definitely wasn’t the same boy. Jihoon sat next to him, impatiently spinning a stir stick between his fingers.

You didn’t know why you weren’t moving. Mingyu’s words rang in your head.

Are you scared?

Craving nothing more than for a sinkhole to form beneath your feet and swallow you whole, you did the sole thing your body permitted you to do; walk sternly out the coffee shop and pretend you never ordered a single thing.

God - I hope they didn’t see me. That would be the last thing I want, for Junhui and his purging buddies to have anything to do with me.

Jihoon and Wonwoo with Junhui was odd. Had they always been friends? Junhui never attended your high school either, rather he used to be a student at a prestigious private school you couldn’t ever dream of getting into.

Your apartment was close. You could distinguish its height amongst the low-cut buildings lining the sidewalk. If you just walked a little faster, you could be up the cement staircase, swinging open the glass doorway, and be safe within the front lobby. Titling your head back you quickly ogled at the sky. It wasn’t completely black yet, but there were distant tinges of dark, oily colours that pressed down like a heavy thumbprint amongst the grey. The wind picked up behind you, slamming into your backside in menacing howls.

Finally, you’d reached the cement steps—

But it was too late.

His tone was smoother than a crystal ball, lower than baritone, and incredibly seasoned at feigning genuineness. Hearing your name cascade from his mouth that was deceivingly shaped as a heart made your breath flatten. You didn’t want to turn around and face him, but it was too late to pretend you never heard his chant. Unwillingly, your body pivoted like a stone statue, your foot taking that one victorious step back as it left the staircase.

“You walk so fast, you could have been sprinting.”

“Exercise is good.” You nearly wheezed.

For the first time, you realized just how tall Junhui was, his body appearing as a shadowy mass as the wind blew the tails of his trench coat. His brows were slanted, lips quirked, his irises so rounded you could hardly see the white bits. He was handsome in the way that some people found graveyards entrancing. It was the eeriness that allured you.

“You left your coffee.” He stated.

“I realized I had somewhere to be.” You tried to hold his gaze, but it was impossible to evade the nervous eye fluttering.

“As anyone would, it’s getting late.”

The wind whistled between you, dark clouds swirling above your head as though the sky were a witch’s cauldron.

“I think it might rain,” you said meekly, “are you looking to ask me something?”

Junhui took a step forward. He’d never been this close to you before, maybe a few inches away from the tip of your nose. Your gaze tripped to his eye, the eye that Mingyu had driven his clenched fist into that one night, causing Junhui’s head to thrust back against the plaster. You swallowed the salty brick in your throat.

“I heard you like to purge now.” Junhui said with a smile. You swore his caramel gaze glinted with excitement.

Your blood froze. How did he know about that? Junhui saw through you like a translucent piece of plastic. He saw how you inwardly panicked.

“I was surprised,” he cooed, “you don’t seem like the type… But I suppose all that running around with Mingyu changed your morals.”

Your heart was beating at such a frantic pace you feared it may dislodge itself from your chest and land in your mouth.

“I’m so elated you found purpose,” his midnight fronds then fell mischievously before his eyes, keeping the candor of his secrets hidden from you, “the purge is a time of cleansing intended to help people like us find a little alleviation in the world. That one person whose been causing you grief? You won’t have to worry about their disgusting discrepancy that makes you so infuriated. It’s quite healing,” Junhui purred, “if you ask me.”

It felt as though someone just ripped your tongue from between your teeth. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. A splash of rain thumped your forehead, and yet you allowed the cold bead to trickle along the side of your nose and run onto your cheek. Junhui’s hand delicately raised, his thumb caressing the droplet away. He stood closer now, eliminating any room in which the wind could whisper through, his bangs tickling your forehead as his onyx pupils bore through your heated face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, looking toward your lips through his heavy lashes, his fingers pointing your chin upward, “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt just because Mingyu can’t take care of you.”

“I-I trust him,” You managed to squeak, though it required every bone in your body to summon equal modicums of courage.

“C’mon,” Junhui seemed to taunt, “you know who I am, right? I can have any weapon, any blueprint, any ctv footage I want directly in my hands, and all it takes is a single phone call.” He grinned wolfishly. “Besides, Mingyu doesn’t have the most durable history of looking out for others.”

His grip on your chin hardened like steel, heart-shaped lips pressed lightly to your ear’s cusp, “you do know what happened to Minghao, don’t you?”

Your body turned more frigid than ice, the warm blood that pumped beneath your skin running colder with every second that Junhui stood, seeing straight through you and to his old friend he’d hurt so dearly. You instantly grew sick to your stomach. The universe beyond Junhui’s shadow was spinning wildly, darting in nauseating circles like a carousel. The images came in flickers; the truck pulling into the driveway, the window cranking down, the crack of the gun as its bullet pierced a shape in the darkness. No wonder Jihoon and Wonwoo were friends with Junhui. He had been the other person in Mingyu’s car.

You felt lightheaded, like you were going to faint.

“I’ll let you go, but just consider your options. Really, truly consider them.” Junhui murmured. “I’m sure you have some personal contentions kept covert beneath that kind tongue of yours. Given your participation, I know you can upheaval your need to feel purification. If you’re wise, you’ll cleanse with us, with me, as you are entitled to.”

Without a single ripple Junhui broke away, his touch drifting like the edges of a silk blanket from your cheek. Immediately afterward, a disturbing burst of wind whipped between your bodies, inducing a long shiver that crept down your spine and fizzled at your fingertips. Your throat felt like cracked sandpaper and your chest bottomed out with a horrendous, wrenching fear.

Junhui knew that Mingyu didn’t fear him, but he knew that you feared him, and he knew that your fear would grow to consume you now that you’d been introduced to the devastating truth.

The radio was on, high-pitched static and monotonous advisement rasping through the car’s sound system. It was clear that in time, there would be a chorus of other harsh noises leaping to fill the sky, any pockets of oxygen, and the spaces that lingered between your hazy breathing. Yet in the dense heat, you could care less.

This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of The Annual Purge, sanctioned by the government.

It was hot, burning. The air felt like scorching linen that pressed fire into your skin. Mingyu’s teeth scraped along your collarbones, the thin layer of flesh that mapped over them singed with bruises and bites and kisses that still glistened.

Weapons of Class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.

The radio continued to blip. Your fingers tangled through his earth-toned tresses, gripping the thick strands and tugging on them as your throat started to ache. The windows were splotched with oily fingerprints that had been left earlier, when you first climbed onto his lap.

Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.

Your legs quivered over his thighs, his hands guiding your hips with such a brute strength that the pain welled into numbness and everything that surrounded you seemed nonexistent, save for where your bodies connected like a jewel to its staff. His forehead fell on your shoulder, groans muffled as they brushed your hot skin. He continued to hit deep, and you knew you couldn’t hold on for much longer, the sparks catching a foreshadowing flame

Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.

It was then, when your weight came down on his lap for the final time, his hips stuttering upward at the perfect moment, that your head tossed back and you felt the energy rip from your body in a single scream. Mingyu wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you flush against him, working the pleasure for all its worth. You then buried your face into his neck, a soft sea of your whimpers filling the thick air whilst Mingyu emptied inside you, filling you with warmth.

Police, fire and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7am, when the Purge concludes.

For a moment, you just needed to close your eyes and breathe in his scent, hear his heartbeat, feel the familiar heat spread throughout your abdomen. He squeezed your hips tight, and his words were barely audible, attempting to drown over the radio’s static as well as the heavy breaths from your lungs. You heard them, even if your ears really had to strain to decipher the syllables whispered at the peak of his sensitivity. Mingyu said he loved you, and he meant it with every ounce of his soul as he felt your body shake in his arms.

Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and a nation, reborn.

And you would have meekly hummed the words in return, if the sudden cacophony of a siren didn’t shred the air like pastry, startling your system that had just come down from the best cloud nine experience you could ever fathom. It would have been wondrous to bask in the afterglow, to trace patterns on his biceps and run your lips over the scar in his brow. It had all been purloined from you in an instant. Though your centre still ached, you crept off his lap and into the passenger seat, cleaning yourself up as best you could.

“Here,” Mingyu held out his jacket that he’d tossed in the backseat, probably since your training in the fields, “it’ll keep you warm if it actually rains tonight.”

“Thanks.” You murmured whilst slipping the fabric around your body, noting that something a little heavy was inside one of the pockets. You remembered the gun was still inside. Suddenly, Mingyu started the car, the engine purring lowly and musty clouds of exhaust puffing into the empty parking lot.

He tapped the steering wheel with his palm, “where should we head?”

When the sirens faded away, you looked to him and smiled, “wherever you want.”

The red sun seemed anxious to disappear, for its rays cracked across the sky like bloodied, broken ice, hurriedly pushing itself further below the horizon as Mingyu drove into town. The Purge never introduced an easy atmosphere to stomach, yet tonight, you felt the bile in your throat was more acidic than usual. Maybe it was because you knew a huge secret, one that tied Mingyu’s hatred to Junhui’s existence.

You didn’t confess to Mingyu anything. Every word that seeped like a venom from Junhui’s lips was sealed within you, and only you. It was already painful enough for Mingyu to brace through such a traumatic incident. There would come a time when he told you his reasons for hating Junhui, and that time had yet to come.

Even so, the terror was exhausting. The first few nights after your encounter with Junhui, your slumber was plagued by gruesome nightmares, his comfortable laughter, and the black fire that seeped in his eyes as though he were some underworld creature. You’d slam awake in a cold sweat. At times you’d be so drenched that you needed to take a shower before going back to sleep, that is, if your mind allowed you to. Sometimes you would phone Mingyu and lie to him, tell him you needed to hear the brass in his voice as your nighttime spell.

You never told him about the nightmares, the panic, or the anxiety. Now the Purge had returned after its position was quelled in the nation for a year. Your head turned to glance more thoroughly out the window after you flitted past a man holding an axe tool, a painted mask shielding his face.

It didn’t take long for the streets to begin flooding with people of the same stature, and if their eyes of thirst were hidden behind costumes, then it became more than evident in the weaponry that adorned their guises. Mingyu seemed calm as he stared out the dash, his eyes giving away nothing that would hint toward his inner complex. You sighed and let your cheek rest in your palm, your gaze unable to stop tracing each and every person that emerged from the dark crevices.

About forty-five minutes had passed, driving around the quieter outskirts of the city. Looking into the side-mirror, you watched as the occasional killing occurred behind you.

Mingyu smiled. “The night just started and you already look like you’re over it.”

The echo of a gun pierced the air. You cringed slightly.

“I don’t know if I’m over it or not. I guess I’m thinking about how I’ll ever suppress witnessing senseless murder, y’know?”

The boy gently stuck his arm out, across the glove compartment, his thumb stroking your cheek for a fond moment.

“We don’t have to hang around. I can drive up to the field where we’ll be away from the worst of it. What do you want, baby?” He asked.

You scratched at your knuckles and puffed through your nose. “I don’t even know what I want. Am I supposed to feel this way?”

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, “what way?”

“Melancholic, sorta like everything seems pointless. How do you feel?”

Mingyu took a wide turn to avoid a collection of smashed bottles that glinted on the road, increasing the vehicle’s speed steadily as the chaos increased. Like your first Purge, you saw the distant glow of burning buildings appear across the lake, at the other side of the city.

“I don’t even know if I can describe it anymore.” He shrugged.

You turned your head to look at him, deciding to ask something rather abrupt, but a topic you were curious on nonetheless.

“Why did you start purging?”

The boy’s canines pushed into his bottom lip as he probed his mind.

“Because I was friends with someone who wanted to. Even involving yourself once makes enemies. You can’t hide from it after that.”

Staring at the side of his face, you felt almost dirty for knowing a pivotal piece belonging to Mingyu’s past.

“Were you friends with Junhui?”

There was a thick silence as you waited for Mingyu’s response.

“At one point, yes.” He admitted, his words sounding distasteful.

You shifted up in the seat, stretching out your hand to rub Mingyu’s bicep.

“I don’t care if you were. I know you aren’t the same as him, and that this night changes people. You don’t let it consume you like he does.”

Mingyu took a turn through a wide alleyway to avoid a hostile situation escalating at the far end of the intersection. You didn’t get a good look as the sky was continuing to lose its orange light, but the flash of the group’s masks and weapons was convincing enough to take a different path.

You couldn’t help but note that Mingyu’s eyes had become slightly watered.

“It was never about purification,” he told you, “I never had any specific target, or someone I detested. Neither did Jun. But he comes from a family that relies on purging as their income. His mom designs weapons and his dad works for some underground branch, assigning bounties. He just isn’t the same as us. I was lucky if I could even hold a gun in my hands without trembling. I had to learn how to desensitize myself. For Jun, it was almost natural.”

A familiar sickness made your stomach twirl.

“It’s sad he had to grow up like that.” You sighed, glancing out the window whilst Mingyu remained silent.

A few minutes later, and you were laughing. “I didn’t mean to make the mood so terrible. I was just wondering.”

“I know,” Mingyu said, his lips curling warmly, “I can’t blame you for being curious, baby. I just don’t think back on my past all that much.”

He then gave you a thoughtful look, and your chest started fluttering embarrassingly fast. “I like focusing on right now, where I have you.”

It was quiet again, to which you let your thoughts roam astray.

You pictured the night your father disappeared, the night your mother’s life was taken away from her when she wasn’t even capable of defending herself. The feeling of coming down the stairway to broken glass, spilt moonlight, and a dirtied face lugging her away couldn’t be compared to any pain. And daring to unlock that enraged, bitter half of yourself, you thought to applying pressure on the trigger that killed the man responsible for her death.

Those memories influenced your appreciation, your gratitude, toward Mingyu, the boy who you had always admired at a distance, never knowing he could be so tender and benevolent. It was possible that you could have turned out similar to Junhui if you let your indignation take control. Seeing how Mingyu always remained so grounded helped you keep your footing, and you hoped there never came a day when you started looking at the world how Junhui did.

All of sudden, your musing was shattered when a pick-up truck roared from an alleyway and soared into the street, plumes of grey smoke pumping from its pipes as the tires screeched against the asphalt.

”Mingyu, watch out!” You screeched, gripping the steering wheel.

At the same time, Mingyu veered away from the truck, your heart nearly tearing a hole right through your chest as the head of your vehicle rammed into a light post. The collision jolted your body forward, though the seatbelt kept you strapped in and unscathed. Mingyu cursed through his teeth.

“Fuck, are you okay?” He rasped.

“I-I’m fine. Let’s just get the hell out of here.” You replied shakily.

Mingyu’s facial expression relaxed for less than a second. He appeared ready to oblige, though casting another inspection into his features relayed a nauseating truth. Suddenly, Mingyu’s hand gripped the back of your neck and he forced your head down between your legs. You heard it, the crisp echo of a gunshot. Except there was no bullet that punctured the glass and made fragments rain over your body. There was no dent in the metal door either. The barrel was purposely aimed to a different area, and as the second shot fired off, you felt like passing out.

They’re shooting at the tires.

Mingyu whispered to you with a coarse urgency, “this way!”

He’d managed to open his door, your only choice of escape a labyrinth of alleyways that lay beyond the mangled car. The alleys were dark, damp, and most likely rife with impending danger. Your throat closed in when you attempted to swallow. You could see the blade that Mingyu had collected from the console, already tight in his hand. Licking your leathered lips, you squirmed out his side after he’d gone through. He was squatted down, waiting for you.

Just as you joined him, you cast a glance above Mingyu’s head, your blood turning into ice as a slim figure appeared around the back end of the car. It was a man, dressed in a black raincoat, long and glossy. He was wearing a dirtied, white mask, where kohl paint was runny down the large eyes and the mouth was outlined in a red marker. Next to his side was the long barrel of a shotgun, and you felt unimaginably dizzy. Mingyu immediately identified the terror that leaked into your gaze, and with a thick gulp, he dared stare over his shoulder.

“Hey Mingyu,” the stranger mumbled, taking the pointed chin of the mask and tipping it upward, revealing a fox-like face, “long time no see.”

Mingyu wrapped his fingers around your hand and stood up slowly, ensuring your body was sheltered by his size. You breathed as quietly as your vandalized chest would allow, your diaphragm keening to erupt.

“Wonwoo?” Mingyu echoed, “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Didn’t mean to scare you or anything.” The boy said, his voice very deep and smooth. The depth reverberated in your chest and made your skin crawl.

“Are you crazy, dude?” Mingyu growled. “You shot out my fucking tires.”

Wonwoo scratched the nape of his neck. “I was just following orders.”

You had no idea what was happening. The only piece of concrete knowledge that hadn’t been fogged over in tangible fear was that you could still hear incessant firing in the distant, chaotic screaming and rioting. Looking down to the blade that glinted in Mingyu’s palm, you were able to plant a little reassurance in yourself knowing of his skill and ability to stay grounded. Keeping your mouth shut, you held Mingyu’s hand in a vice grip.

“Following orders from who? What are you talking about? Are you wired?”

“It’s understandable you would think that,” Wonwoo sighed, “but I’m not. If I were though, your death might be a little easier.”

“Since when are you supposed to kill me?” Mingyu sounded flat out bewildered.

It was then that it dawned on you: Mingyu really had no idea Wonwoo was still a part of Junhui’s brigade.

Grinding your teeth together in contemplation, you finally decided to swallow the grain in your throat and break the truth. Getting close to Mingyu’s ear, you whispered to him what you knew, no matter how much of a fable it may be perceived as. Visibly, his body stiffened. His fingers gripped the blade’s handle with an unprecedented rage.

“What are you doing?” Mingyu implored, candor in his despair. “Even after what he did to Minghao? What the hell is holding you to him?”

“It’s nothing personal, but as you know already, Junhui is filthy rich,” Wonwoo gloomed, cocking the barrel once more, “and he’s promised me some things.”

Mingyu clenched his jaw. “You mean more of those drugs he keeps stealing from his dad’s lab? Wonwoo, what the fuck happened to you? The last time I heard from you, you were getting clean, you were going to start fresh!”

There was an unorthodox twinkle in his black stare, oddly full of emotion, hurt, repressed pain that cut deeper inside than out.

“I tried,” Wonwoo stated, a slight anger tainting his voice, “I went to three different rehabilitation clinics. I took a vacation to the rural springs and received lessons in guided meditation and bought myself a journal so I could document my success in getting clean. And you know what? I haven’t touched that journal since the day I fucking bought it. Tell me, Mingyu. How the fuck am I supposed to care about staying clean, how the fuck am I supposed to care about anything when I saw the love of my life get fucking shot right in front of me?”

Mingyu shook his head in disbelief, “Wonwoo, I--, I know that was horrible, I know that hurt you and--”

“Just shut up,” the elder interrupted flatly, “maybe today I’ll actually feel something when I put this barrel between your eyes.”

It was impossible to stand by and remain silent. Chewing on your bottom lip, you gathered a modicum of courage and poked your head around Mingyu’s shoulder.

“So you’re going to kill us just because Junhui wants you to? That’s how you’re going to live the rest of your life? Listening to his psychotic fantasies about purification and entitlement?”

Wonwoo narrowed his eyes at you, his jaw taunt.

“I know you loved Minghao, I know your life hasn’t felt the same since. Minghao was Mingyu’s best friend too. You weren’t the only one who lost somebody. Do you think when I came downstairs at fourteen years old and saw my mother get pulled away through the window that I wasn’t upset, angry, confused at the world? Junhui just sees you as a pawn to delegate the matters he doesn’t want to dip his hands into, but you’re a real person. Wake up and act like it!”

For even just a fraction of a second, Wonwoo’s shoulders slumped, his finger that was feathering the gun’s trigger drifted from contact, and the stoic cloud in his eyes fuzzed a little. You were starting to feel confident. Yet just as easily as the feeling came to you, you were caught off guard by an arm that slid around your neck and lurched you backward, against a hard chest.

Mingyu barked immediately, his blade drawn and eyes wildly dilated as he turned to face the person responsible for holding onto you. Biting the inside of your mouth, you squirmed and thrashed and kicked, until something cold pressed into your temple and suddenly the energy evaporated from your body like dew droplets on an August day.

Mingyu’s voice sounded rusty as he gaped again. “Jihoon?!”

Wonwoo piped up suddenly, and his eyes turned cold once more. “Be careful, dammit. She’s the one we can’t afford to bruise up.”

Jihoon’s arm was now wrapped around your neck, pressing against your windpipe and causing your air supply to falter. You knew it was a gun that was poking sharply into your temple.

Mingyu’s gaze was wild and rife with fire. He growled between his teeth like a wolf. “Don’t even fucking think about it, Jihoon.”

Wonwoo stepped forward and shook his gun at the boy who was closing off on your breathing. “Junhui wants that one,” he pressed the snout of his weapon into your chin, “alive.”

Jihoon sulked, his voice rumbling in his chest, “So what’s our fun tonight? We kill Mingyu and then pack up?”

You wriggled again in Jihoon’s arms, tempted to gnaw right into his wrist. “Can we not kill anybody?!”

“Calm down,” Wonwoo instructed, “I hate shouting. If any of you shout I’m planting a bullet in your brain.”

“You’re such a bore,” Jihoon whined, pressing into your windpipe with more force, painting speckles of white across your vision. Mingyu was bubbling with rage, like a teapot left on the burner for too long, his teeth clamping down so tightly his whole face was aching.

Wonwoo used the muzzle of the gun to tip your chin toward the moonlight. “A word of advice. Stop struggling and you won’t get hurt.”

“H-He’s hurting me,” you attempted to coherently spit past the pressure concocted against your throat. Jihoon was issuing enough force to make your eyes water and your head spin. Mingyu piped up, but Wonwoo was swifter and beat him to it.

“Lighten your grip.” He told Jihoon.

“I’m not even holding her that tightly!” The boy protested. Wonwoo’s face didn’t crack. He just repeated himself with an underlying menace.

“Lighten. Your. Grip.”

“It’s all pretending! Can’t you see? They’re trying to distract you so Mingyu can shove that blade through your back. Don’t be so fucking soft, Wonwoo. Look! I’m hardly touching—“

Bang.

Wonwoo dug his gun right into Jihoon��s forehead and pulled the trigger, the strict barrier against your throat immediately releasing. A fresh gulp of air hastily entered your lungs as you stumbled, Jihoon’s body folding onto the sidewalk from the corner of you eye. Mingyu quickly caught you, cupped your face in his hands and wiped the beaded sweat at your forehead. He kept whispering to you that you were okay, repeated the words in a soothing, husky mantra, his thumbs stroking your jaw in comforting sweeps. The ringing in your ears was unfathomably painful, it stung and stung and stung.

“Well,” Wonwoo announced with a despondent sigh, setting the gun over his shoulder, “I really do hate yelling.”

Mingyu’s kissed your forehead briefly. Your lips were still dry and they struggled to form a word of thanks to Wonwoo. The boy shrugged.

“He was holding you kind of tightly.”

Mingyu gasped, “no fucking kidding.”

Wonwoo sighed. “I guess I don’t expect to live much longer now that I’ve gone and wasted my companion here with my last few bullets. Not to mention I have prolonged the existence of your life, Mingyu, which I was strictly ordered not to do. It was nice to meet your little partner in crime too.”

“What are you talking about?” Mingyu questioned whilst gathering you into his side.

“I didn’t follow through on my order. I can’t bring myself to do it. ” Wonwoo mumbled. “We’ll catch up in the afterlife or something. Maybe where you’re going is different than where I’m about to go. You’ll probably be with Minghao while I deservedly rot. One of life’s many mysteries, right?”

There wasn’t much of an opportunity to process the situation, not when a gunshot echoed from down the alleyway and pierced the boy in his temple. The shotgun clamped in his hand clattered against the cold, concrete sidewalk, and his mask clattered off his head. His body joined the likes of Jihoon who’d been staring up at the night sky with dead, glazed eyes, a trail of red leaking down his nose. Your head pivoted and you felt a surge of vomit climb to the back of your mouth, for the person behind the trigger was Yang Yeeun, her pearl earrings flashing against the silver moonlight.

“Horrendous.” Her accent was thick with venom, heels clicking down the alleyway as she stalked in her black trousers and white dress shirt.

Intimidation sweltered against your skin at just her attire. The fact she dressed expensively for the night proved she wasn’t expecting to get in any confrontation that would result in her own blood being spilt.

“I expected Jihoon to cause trouble, but not Wonwoo. He was so promising. I guess he really did need drugs to stay sane.”

She stepped over a corpse you hadn’t noted lying face down in the alley, growling between her teeth.

“Filthy,” Yeeun remarked without a grain of empathy, “nothing but filth.”

Mingyu gripped your wrist and you felt your body stumble behind him. Keeping your arms drawn against his back and softly breathing, you inhaled the musky scents of damp, nighttime air and car exhaust. Though you couldn’t directly see Yeeun, her voice was still audible, lacquered in such a feigned delicacy it reminded you of Junhui. Mingyu hadn’t said a thing. He didn’t have to speak for you to know his heart was decaying.

“There’s my sweet boy.” Yeeun cooed. She was close now, so close you peered between Mingyu’s legs and saw her shiny heels standing in blood spatters.

She regarded Mingyu like they were still together, like they still reflected the image of romance that was envied by so many people, you included. Her arm extended, pale, numb fingers brushing along his amber cheek. You wanted to scream at her to never touch him again. It was her own mistake to let Mingyu go, when he was positively in love with her and preached their future with honeyed words, like an artist who preaches with paint.

“You know, I miss you,” she hummed, tracing the flint of his jaw, “I’m so terribly sorry you had to witness your old best friends get a bullet to the brain, but, that is what happens when tensions are high, and, you know, we can’t afford to let many errors slip past us. Now, let’s not let that put a damper on the night. It’s still young, and so much has yet to happen. How about you come with me?”

You knew there was a handgun she was keeping pressed to her leg right now, and that if neither of you complied, it would be put to good use. Mingyu hadn’t opened his mouth. His lips were tight and his eyes were concentrated. Maybe he was trying to scheme.

Yeeun stretched out her gun and let the muzzle clink with Mingyu’s knife, trying to push the weapon from his hand.

“Just drop this and follow me, sweetheart. Due to these unforeseen events, there’s been a change and your presence has been urgently requested.”

Quicker than expected, Mingyu complied. He let the blade untwine from his grasp and rattle against the ground. If he did have some sort of plan, you were hoping that giving up his only weapon was part of it.

“She can come too,” Yeeun purred, “Junhui wants to see both of you.”

Yeeun trudged behind you, her weapon drawn, a manicured nail feathering upon the trigger just in case one of you attempted something of trickery. Tall, grimy buildings surrounded you, leading up to the black sky, where the stars gazed down in lamentation. Mingyu’s fingers were wrapped around your wrist with such steely strength that you felt your circulation dwindle, though the tiny, tingling feeling would never surpass the fear that sat like a pound of tar in your stomach. Similar to your first purge, tears pushed at your ducts, though there was a certain exhaustion shrouding your body that prevented them from falling.

Despite your unstable condition, the possibility of death snickering right in your face, the wavering thought that either Junhui or Yeeun could imbue a torturous fate, you were worried about Mingyu.

Yeeun was playing him expertly. She knew it wasn’t her heart that cracked after their breakup, it was Mingyu that suffered independently. Only he bit the nail, only he felt the salt mix with his wounds, and only he would welt in self-contemplation over a love that he nurtured, alone. If it came down to it, and your life was on the line, would Mingyu hesitate? Would he be afraid of hurting someone he used to treasure so dearly? You didn’t doubt his affections for you. His heart was strong, but what if Yeeun’s deceit was stronger?

The labyrinth of alleyways had finally led you to a dead end. Your wrist shook in Mingyu’s grasp, for the man nonchalantly leaning against the solid wall was none other than—

“Junhui,” Yeeun cawed, “you won’t believe what the fuck just happened. Wonwoo popped Jihoon. He’s dead, should have brought more crew instead of displacing them like we did.”

She finished her sentence by fitting her gun right snug at the back of your head.

Junhui spat onto the floor before he unstuck himself from leaning against the wall, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark trench coat.

“It doesn’t matter,” he dismissed, “using Wonwoo and Jihoon was a squander anyways. I could have concluded both their lives at a much more efficient pace. I’m guessing you took care of the traitor?”

Yeeun cackled, “right though the side of his head. He fell like a stack of cards.”

“It’s a real disappointment,” Junhui huffed, “since the beginning Wonwoo and Jihoon have shown the utmost loyalty for me and my craft. But, I guess this just demonstrates how purifying this device truly is. We’re ridding the streets of scum, aren’t we?”

Mingyu released your wrist, and you felt like a bomb had just dropped to the soles of your feet. His lips parted and his voice was deep. Hearing him speak allowed your heartbeat to calm, even with Yeeun’s gun taunt into your hair.

“The streets will never be rid of scum until you’re over and done with.”

Junhui cocked his head, his mouth falling open and his eyes twinkling as though a tiny flame had ignited in their inky depths.

“And here is the biggest traitor of them all!”

Junhui tossed his head back and ludic laughter echoed into the compressing air, “how do you suppose you’ll rid me, Mingyu? Are you going to give me another black eye? Curse at me? Damn me to hell and back because of what happened that night? Damn me behind my back because I took Yeeun away from you? The girl you once loved and valued with your every essence?”

It was then that Junhui shifted his sights on you, his lips pulling wide in a smile.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware Mingyu, but your partner and I exchanged a very compelling conversation a while ago. I guess word never got around to you.”

Junhui’s boots dragged over the crumbs of dirt and asphalt that littered the ground, his presence nearing closer and closer. When you tried to lower your head, Yeeun’s gun pressed with a stricter force into your scalp, filling you with enough fear to keep your gaze straight.

“You’re very fortunate, Mingyu. To have such a pretty thing to call your own.”

Junhui’s hand reached for your chin. His touch was colder than the dark shadows that masked his soul, and it engendered a shiver to slither along your spine.

“Don’t put your hands anywhere near her!” Mingyu seethed, to which Yeeun instantly switched her gun to point against the back of his skull.

You could see his jaw clench from your peripheral vision. But Junhui didn’t listen, and his thumb pushed down on your bottom lip as though he intended to brand your skin with his insanity. He spoke lowly, smoothly, confidence lathered into his every syllable.

“Do you know why I did it?” Junhui stared into your eyes and asked.

“Dd-did w-what?” You warbled.

“It wasn’t because I was jealous of Wonwoo and Minghao, or because I had some personal contention against the boy. I didn’t even think when I pressed the trigger. I spent the whole night adding so much blood to my hands, that the moment I saw another shadow move, my body just - it just acted for me. Like it was an instinct. I wasn’t sad... But I wasn’t happy. I only knew I was no longer myself... I was someone stronger, someone enhanced, and that is the greatness of this evening!”

Junhui clutched your shoulders and shook them, his eyes alight with a certain derangement that petrified you to your core.

“You’re reborn! Don’t you get it? You’re no longer tied down by the concept of goodness, and your free will is truly free. When will you two realize that--”

Out of nowhere, Mingyu shoved into your side so aggressively you stumbled sideways and collapsed on the sooty ground. The air was knocked from your lungs and your heart pumped like it had been electrocuted. Fuzzy splotches of colour coalesced before your watered vision, projecting nothing but an obnoxious blur. There was shouting, the loud crack of a harmless gunshot, and scuffling that emanated from every direction. Before you could separate the blacks from the blues, something cold wrapped around your wrist and dragged you backward. Then, your entire body was thrust up against the brick, scrapes and bruises already forming on your bare skin.

When your head stopped spinning and the world dulled down from reflecting three versions of the same image, you were shuttering, whimpering, as Junhui held you firmly against the wall.

Across the alleyway you could see that Mingyu had Yeeun pressed to the floor, his palm covering her throat whilst he took advantage of his weight to keep her slim frame still. He fought to unwind the firearm from her fingers, but when he did, the weapon was digging into her forehead. You wanted to scream at him to pull the trigger, to fucking end her already, even if your throat felt like it had been scraped of all moisture and scrubbed with a pad of steel wool. You heard Junhui snicker, his mouth twisted cynically. It was evident what he was thinking, for it was identical to your own thought.

“Like hell you’ll do it!” Junhui screamed.

If it came down to it, and your life was on the line, would Mingyu hesitate?

Love. It was just as much a weapon as it was a comfort. And as Mingyu stared down at Yeeun, silver pearls of water slipping from her brown eyes, the eyes he had fallen for, you felt consumed by terror, that your life may truly end at this exact location. Mingyu proved your doubts were transparent and his finger jammed against the trigger. Except – there was nothing, nothing at all. The gun had no ammunition left. Yeeun sighed heavily.

“Don’t do this,” she mewled, still wriggling beneath him, full-fledged tears pumping down her flushed, scarlet face, “I never meant to hurt you. It’s just – you wouldn’t understand why – he didn’t leave me any choice!”

Mingyu released his ironclad grip over her throat and used his fingers to sweep the stray hairs from her eyes.

“Shut your fucking mouth.” He abruptly snapped. “You lie through your teeth like it’s the only thing you’re good for. You don’t love anyone or anything. I bet you lost that silver spoon you were born with, huh? Daddy’s security systems aren’t as bulletproof as he thought they were? So you had to run to Junhui?”

She gargled slightly on her own saliva, coughing a bit of foam, though she never tried to respond.

Mingyu lifted Yeeun’s head in his hands. Squeezing your eyes shut didn’t make the snapping noise any less gruesome. If anything, it only amplified the sickness building in your gut, it only amplified Junhui’s enraged storm of cursing as his companion’s body went limp, her eyes stained with not even a smidgen of regret. If there was any regret at all, it was that she couldn’t have killed you herself. Hope began trickling back into your body, and, taking advantage of Junhui’s distracted vacancy, you attempted to give him a swift kick.

And yet that thought was a mistake in itself. Junhui lost his composure, his sophistication.

Your struggling only encouraged the anger spilling inside him, prompted him to uncover a blade that was hidden inside his coat, its silver gleam reflecting off your eyes for a millisecond before you felt its sharp edge nuzzle into your skin, somewhere around your stomach. A surge so violent and unbridled soared through your body, forced you to lean over the blade where your eyes soaked up the unholy sight of Junhui’s knuckles pale as snowflakes wrapped around the handle. You spluttered out nothing but air, watched as dark liquid began seeping from the wound and wetting your shirt.

Junhui took it upon himself to slowly, ever so slowly, extract the knife from its crevice, his teeth grinding together as just the point remained in your flesh. Then, he dug the blade back in through its opening, giving the weapon a slight twist.

When Mingyu had risen from Yeeun’s corpse and tore Junhui away from you, a silent sob wobbled off your lips. At some point that your mind was too fogged to remember, you were sitting, slumped against the wall as thick, grey storm clouds crowded the night sky. When you could no longer find solace amongst the stars, your gaze flitted across the alleyway, to where Junhui and Mingyu were a vicious tangle of limbs that punched and kicked and pulled. It reminded you of the party, the stupid party that had somehow preluded your path to cross with Mingyu’s. They were shouting at one another, at war for Junhui’s knife that kept slipping from their grasps like butter.

Wincing, you stretched an arm to fold over your stomach, attempting to apply even the meekest amount of pressure to your wound. Your brow furrowed when something hard nudged against your arm, a harsh weight that seemed to sit inside your jacket.

Well, it wasn’t your jacket, it was Mingyu’s.

Chewing down on the inside of your mouth, you ignored the pain that cut through your every nerve and fought to wind your hand within the jacket, fingers poking and shuffling around until they brushed the pocket stitched to the inside. Despite your battered condition, you nearly yelped when you gripped the handgun, the same gun that you’d used to practice your aim in the fields. There was not a moment to squander, nor a moment to think. Your whole body screamed as you drew the weapon from its pouch, fingers slippery with blood as you fought to turn the safety off.

Your entire arm shook like a brittle leaf in mid-autumn, yet you still held the gun forth, your head banging, your vision blurred, bile pushing and stinging against your throat. Junhui had Mingyu pinned to the grit, his boot heavy on Mingyu’s wrist. Raised in the air was the knife, stained with red globs of your blood. It was just like the party, except it wasn’t a tiny glass shard sealed between Junhui’s fingers. It was a literal hacking device. There was nothing you could do to stop your arm from shaking. You had no more ammunition apart from the bullet left in the gun.

What if I miss, what if I miss Junhui and hit Mingyu? What if I hit Junhui but it isn’t enough to stop him? I don’t think I can do this. I can’t I can’t I can’t—

“So,” Junhui barked, his vocal chords strained and hoarse, “where’s your little guardian angel now, huh? If it weren’t for your girlfriend fucking getting in the way two years ago, you would have had it, Mingyu. But now there’s no one to save you. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment. Finally, I’m entitled to purge how I’ve always wanted.”

The tears finally erupted from their ducts, streaming down your dusted cheeks and dripping at your chin. You felt like a child, a blubbering infant.

But it wasn’t worth it to lose Mingyu.

You weren’t entirely sure what happened when you sucked back the distracting binds of your self-doubt and clamped the trigger down. It didn’t register that the bullet had struck Junhui’s head until his body collapsed off of Mingyu’s lap, lying lax on the pebbles like a sack of flour. It didn’t register that you had saved Mingyu’s life until the first few cold splashes of rain thumped against your forehead, dampened your lashes, and trickled along your scuffed flesh. The gun dropped from your fingers and the whole world went black.

The next time you awoke, you were faced with a pair of glimmering, penny eyes that rapidly blinked, tiny crinkles mapping along wet, amber skin. An instant pain jolted into your gut when you attempted to fidget, and a whine nearly tore itself from between your cracked lips.

“Don’t try to move,” you heard a rough voice, “stay still as best you can.”

“Mingyu?” You croaked, reaching upward to stroke his cheek.

His fingers coiled gently around your wrist, bringing the scars that were carved like ancient hieroglyphics to his lips. The second he pressed kisses to the old wounds, you smiled.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you awake,” he rasped, his eyes soft, gleeful, “you fucking saved me, y’know? It’s because of you I’m still here, still breathing. All because of you.”

Your face scrunched in confusion.

“Wait… So, I’m not… dreaming?”

Despite Mingyu’s earlier advisement to stay still, you forced your body upward, though you faced immediate repercussions as a jarring bolt struck you in the stomach. Mingyu attempted to make you relax once more, but you refused to listen to his cooing. Distant thunder rolled in the distance, and you could see a pale glow beaming behind the flossy clouds that shielded the sky. Seven o’clock was probably on the brink of arrival. You were still in the alleyway. Casting a glance toward your new wounds, you noticed that Mingyu had wrapped his jacket tightly around your waist.

“Now would be a good time for lots of gauze, right?” You smiled.

Mingyu settled his palm delicately at the back of your neck and pushed your lips together, a smile slowly dancing along his mouth as he felt your fingers thread through his locks. Just like Mingyu had predicted, a misty rainfall was spraying from the early morning sky, infinitesimal droplets of glass sitting upon his skin as though he were a springtime rose. You kissed his lips again, and again, and again, until the pain in your stomach became too much of a distraction and your head was falling to the crook of his neck. Stealing a glance around the alleyway, you couldn’t help but notice that Junhui and Yeeun’s bodies had been laid beside each other.

You thought about what Wonwoo had said.

Maybe where you’re going is different than where I’m about to go. One of life’s many mysteries, right?

Well, at least Junhui and Yeeun would share an eternal fate in the one place they truly belonged, and it wasn’t exactly a mystery where that place was either.

“Mingyu,” you reached for his shirt and gave it a small tug.

He peered down at you through the fanned arch of his lashes.

“Are you still in a lot of pain, baby? I wish I could take it all away from you. I’m sure the medical services will be here soon, I promi—“

“I love you.”

Mingyu stuttered over the humid air. “O-Oh – I, um, I – I love you too… But, I think you already knew that.”

A molten blush crawled up from the column of his neck and flushed throughout his face akin to a raspberry burn. Though it ached to giggle, you couldn’t evade in doing so, your eyes turned to crescent moons as more golden splashes of dawn light ebbed through the clouds. Somewhere in the distance, you no longer heard gunshots, incoherent slurs, riots and the skid of tires creating friction against pavement. You heard the whirr of emergency sirens and helicopter wings, medical services beginning to flood throughout the city like a creek. It was over. Mingyu was still tangible, warm, smiling whilst he pressed kisses against your forehead.

You don’t know how, but you survived the chaos, you survived Wonwoo and his ludic friend, Jihoon. You survived Yeeun and you survived Junhui.

You survived the Purge together.

✎ a/n: ugh. this is just one of those fics where you become v attached to the characters. i was able to write this quicker than expected (MINUS THE STUPID TWIST THAT STUMPED ME) bc i was truly invested in the plot, and i rly adored every moment of it. actually, this fic was supposed to be posted ages ago, i think last year? but last year was terrible in terms of my health and wellbeing, so i kinda forgot this fic existed as i went on my hiatus. anywho, in my opinion, the first purge film was the best.

i haven’t watched any of the newer purge movies tho, so they could be good! since im a horror/thriller fan, i liked the aspect of vulnerability the purge brought and how it forced ppl to invest in their capacity for violence, especially when the ppl they loved were involved. obviously - only for the fic lmao. bruh, during a real purge i am going to lock myself in the crawl space with a blanket and some cheerios. ALSO!!!! A HAPPY ENDING!!!!!! be proud of me!!!! this was an adventure!!! i hope you can enjoy the story as much as i!! hearing ur thots is appreciated as always!

#mingyu scenarios #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #mingyu fanfic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #mingyu au #mingyu x reader #svt scenarios #svt angst #svt smut

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cmi-miu · 3 years

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Ya’aburnee - Chapter 3 (Seventeen Soulmate AU)

Soulmate AU: The last words your soulmate says to you are the words tattooed on your wrist.

Pairing: SoonWoo, JiHan, SeokHao

Title: Ya'aburnee (arabic): yak-BER-nee (n.) lit. "you bury me"; the hope that your lover or beloved will outlive you as to spare yourself the pain of living beyond that person.

Chapter Summary: Jisoo and Jeonghan are basically boyfriend goals and Jisoo just might be a little too in love.

From behind his phone camera, Jisoo smiles at the heartwarming image of his boyfriend trying to fit into a small cardboard box and is once again bombarded with realisation of just how much he adores the man. Jeonghan, having somehow managed to sit inside the small box, is shooting hearts at the four year old grinning at him as he sits him in his lap. It's all too much for Joshua! Everything about Jeonghan pretending to be the train-master and making “choo-choo” sounds while grinning at the kid makes his insides turn into jelly.

“Now, Chan-ah!” Jeonghan exclaims in his adorably pitched voice that he uses with kids. “Remember to tighten your seatbelts because this is going to be a bumpy ride!”

With the warning comes a “whooosh” sound—courtesy Jeonghan, naturally—and a dramatic display of strength on Jeonghan’s part as he simulates a rollercoaster for the boy sitting in his lap. His boyfriend wobbles violently where he’s sat, making take off sounds and other plane related sounds as he asks Chan to hold tight. How the train ride turned into an aeroplane trip is beyond him, but Jisoo does know one thing for sure.

Jeonghan is indeed the only man he shall marry.

He stops recording and joins the pair, pulling Chan into his arms and turning around swiftly a few times to imitate a helicopter diving up and down, and then dips back mid turn to return the kid to Jeonghan. In a feat of giggles, Chan falls limply into his boyfriend’s lap and a warm air fills their apartment that is accompanied by Jeonghan’s hearty laughter.

He likes this. In fact, this is his dream. Having a kid just as adorable as Chan and spending his weekends sharing his attention on his child and the love of his life.

“Okay, now who’s hungry for pizza,” he says after a while when Jeonghan stops laughing. He doesn’t wait for Chan to stop laughing because the two shoot their hands up screaming Me as soon as the inquiry leaves his mouth. Jisoo shakes his head and ruffles the boy's hair before getting up and walking back to the kitchen.

By the time he sets the plates both Jeonghan and Chan are sitting on the table grinning at him like two mischievous Siamese cats. He laughs, shaking his head as he places the plates in front of them and they start pulling apart pizza slices from the dinner plate.

“How is it?” He asks, eyeing the pair in apprehension because his cooking skills are often critiqued negatively by the two. “It’s a new recipe. I added sundried tomatoes into the sauce.”

Gesturing at the food like some fresh chef wannabe Jeonghan clicks his tongue, “nope. Nope. Not good enough. Right, Channie?”

Chan shakes his head just as elegantly and taps the side of the plate with his plastic spork, explaining. “Pineapples. I can’t believe you forgetted them!”

Joshua rolls his eyes at their response and sends a playful glare towards Jeonghan when the two start giggling at his sour expression. Much like Jeonghan, Chan enjoys teasing him too.

After lunch is over, they play some more where Chan’s blatant favoritism ends up making Jeonghan win all the games. And before they know it, evening hits the apartment with the sun setting and the ring of the doorbell.

“I hope he wasn’t too annoying.” Chan’s mother winces when she sees the mess around the apartment. They’d been making a pillow fort when she arrived to pick Chan up. Actually two pillow forts. Jisoo wasn’t allowed in Chan and Jeonghan’s.

“Don’t worry about it, Yeji.” Jisoo waves her off and she wishes them a goodnight, walking away with a reluctant Chan who yells Goodnight, Jeonghan! I love you! as he follows his mother.

“What about me you, brat!” Jisoo yells back. To which Chan replies by sticking his tongue out and yelling Meroong!

Somedays Jisoo wonders how wonderful the thing called fate is. How lucky he was to have met Jeonghan. How serendipitous their meeting was.

Today, however, is not one of those days.

He feels a headache creeping up his neck to his cranium as he watches Jeonghan grin evilly aiming a water gun at him. And if it wasn’t obvious that Jeonghan is the devil incarnate he's even wearing a black devil hairband and skull earrings to boot.

“Han…” Jisoo groans, pinching his forehead, already raising his arms in the air. “I’m tired, okay. I just need to rest for an hour and then we’ll play. I promise.”

But does Jeonghan care? No. He doesn't give a damn.

Without warning, he screams a battle cry and starts shooting the black water at him. Jisoo yells back alike, and dives towards the other water gun lying near the shoe rack.

And what ensues thereafter is a mediocre reenactment of some 90s war movie wherein Jisoo is still losing.

“You’ll never catch me!” Jeonghan screams again, charging at him with his still half full water gun aimed maliciously towards him. And before Jisoo can even point out that some foul play is at hand—there’s no way he still has water in his gun and I’m all out of mine already!—Jeonghan is right in front him, an evil smile gracing his face.

Jisoo sighs in defeat, gets down on his knees and raises his arms in defence waiting for Jeonghan to give the verdict. Jeonghan cackles maniacally as he sprays the rest of the black water at his face before throwing away the gun.

Jisoo rolls his eyes at the mini ceremony the man does and is just about to stand up from his pose on the ground when Jeonghan jumps down in front of him, legs folded and pulls him by the face for a kiss.

And oh~ that kiss!

It’s the kind that’s gentle at first and deepens by the second. The kind that tastes like peppermint candy sticks dipped in hot chocolate. It’s slow and breathy and warm. And it’s everything that makes Jisoo fall madly in love with Jeonghan.

“I like the red power ranger,” Jeonghan sleepily mumbles, snuggling closer into Jisoo's chest. “But the green power ranger is a hottie too.”

Jisoo brings his arms around his back, pressing him closer, allowing Jeonghan to fall into a snuggly embrace, as he hums back in reply. Resting his chin on the crown of his head, he mumbles back, “I like Oswald. Let’s just watch Oswald.”

Jeonghan yawns into his chest, his warm, wet breath touches Jisoo’s nipples almost sinfully, and Jisoo shudders at the sudden hotness in his pajamas. But shakes his head when he sees Jeonghan’s eyes are already half closed.

“Just put anything on already,” Jeonghan yawns once again, and this time Jisoo bites his lips to keep the moan from leaving his mouth. “I just wanna sleep with the TV on.

Jisoo looks down at the man who’s probably already asleep and sighs biting his lips as he turns on the Pogo Channel. Oswald’s Tomato Garden episode is running and the slow and calm voice of the loveable, blue octopus quickly makes his own eyes heavy.

Jeonghan hums the theme song under his breath and it takes Jisoo everything to hold himself back from pinching the man’s cheeks! Because HOW ADORABLE IS HE?!

Jeonghan soon falls into a deep sleep as his breathing turns light and his body goes limp. Jisoo smiles at the man, fighting his own slumber away, and switches the TV off. He carries the older man to their bedroom, and drags himself and his boyfriend into bed and before he knows it, he falls asleep.

And he dreams of power rangers and yummy octopus stews and five young kids calling him and Jeonghan “Daddy”.

And he dreams of Jeonghan, beautiful and smiling at him. Forever his.

#caratwritersclub #seventeen #seventeen fanfic rec #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen soulmate au #jihan #jihan fluff #fluff #cute #boyfriends #jihan boyfriends #svt fanfic #svt otp #svt soulmate au #svt #ya'aburnee

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yukayjei · 4 years

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Linked Universe FanFic: No Courage Without Fear, Part 3

Please enjoy this next part of this @linkeduniverse story!

Our Heroes confront their wicked foe at last! As with all master magicians, this dark Wizzrobe has a few tricks up its sleeve, some nastier than others...

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

-----------------------------------------

The hooded sorcerer controlled fire and darkness. It controlled the very forest the Heroes stood in. So many unpredictable elements had been thrown their way in one night, they were not sure how to react or what to expect next.

But they had dealt with the unexpected. Today, yesterday, and in their adventures from long ago.

To the Hero of Hyrule, the Wizzrobe itself was the most unexpected element. In the past, they had always proved challenging, but the one standing just a few yards before him was on a whole different level. The common evil that infected the Bokoblins, the Moblins, the Lizalfos, and countless other monsters also afflicted this Wizzrobe.

And instinct told Hyrule he had only gotten a taste of this malefic creature’s powers.

He also knew he was ready to give it the fight of a lifetime. He reached for his sword; beside him, Sky copied.

They rushed forward at the same time. Magic and Master Swords sliced through the air so fast their movement blurred. The blows would have killed, but the Wizzrobe vanished before they connected.

“Not again,” Hyrule groaned as the shrill, maniacal laughter echoed through the trees. “This is getting old.”

“You can say that again,” Sky agreed, eyes and ears straining for any sign of their foe. Both hands tightened their grip around the Master Sword.

Without warning, it reappeared behind them. Before the Heroes could turn, a huge, dark wave slammed them to the ground. The Wizzrobe disappeared once again.

Though winded, the Heroes rose to their feet. The Wizzrobe appeared again, this time beside them, but at a greater distance. It fired the same black wave, but Hyrule’s shield reflected it. Clearly anticipating this, the Wizzrobe simply warped out of harm’s way.

So, it’s learned from before, Hyrule thought.

The foe’s movements sped up. It teleported every second, firing a magic attack each time. Hyrule was having a hard time keeping up, even with Sky parrying just as many waves with his sword.

But then, the Wizzrobe grew eerily silent. Now, it simply watched the Heroes. It might have exhausted itself, were it not for those deep crimson eyes betraying a more sinister motive. Deep in the hood’s shadows, the centers of its eyes now glowed a brilliant yellow. The wind picked up speed, and dark clouds moved to cover the moon— all-too-familiar signs of an oncoming storm.

The Heroes watched the Wizzrobe ascend, the power of its magic lifting it out of their swords’ reach.

“Maybe I can pull out my bow and shoot it down!” Sky gripped his pouch.

“Too late!” Hyrule yelled. “It summoned a thunderstorm!” As if on cue, an enormous lightning bolt struck the ground in front of them with a deafening crash.

The clearing was now a minefield. Scores of jagged white spears streaked from cloud to ground, leaving little room for movement.

The Heroes sprang back as one missed them by a hair’s breadth. Above them, the Wizzrobe’s entire form began to shine with electric light. In response, the storm intensified, if that was even possible. The wind felt like a hurricane. The boys’ ears rang from the constant, earsplitting thunder.

Hyrule brandished the Magic Sword. “I’m going for it!”

“What?” Even in his own ears, Sky’s voice was barely audible.

The Hero of Hyrule charged like he had absolutely nothing to lose. The last reserves of the Jump Spell coursed through his legs like a flood. He sprang up, his height equaling the Wizzrobe’s, and stabbed upward. The wicked sorcerer screeched as the blade tore cloth and skin. It reeled back, falling towards the earth.

As gravity reclaimed Hyrule, the Wizzrobe’s arm lashed out like a striking cobra and seized his left wrist. The young hero struggled, but the skinny, withered hand had a ridiculous vice grip.

From his position on the ground, Sky realized, with a surge of frustration, he could not attack the foe without risking injury to Hyrule. As he paced frantically, searching for an opening, lightning danced around him, dividing his attention and keeping him at bay.

The Wizzrobe, dangling Hyrule like a fish on a hook, pulled the boy closer until their faces were inches apart. Despite this, Hyrule still couldn’t see into the black void of its hood. It was deeply unsettling, to say the least.

He stiffened as the Wizzrobe leaned in even further. From the maw of nothingness, pointed yellow teeth unveiled themselves in a malicious grin. Earth-brown eyes met blood-colored pools as the demon hissed, “Remember me?”

His blood froze like a river in winter. That voice…it’s unfamiliar, and yet—! his mind raced, but it was like pulling a wagon with the rear wheels missing. Thoughts kept starting and stopping. Then why…? No! How? Could it—?

He didn’t get to finish. The Wizzrobe threw him to the ground with a force many times greater than should have been possible. Hyrule did not react, did not even try to break his fall. He may as well have been turned to stone.

In what felt like slow motion, the Chosen Hero watched in horror as his friend hit the ground with a sickening crunch and did not get up.

“No!” he shouted. Facing the Wizzrobe, blood boiling, he finally spotted his opening. Quick as a blink, he thrust the Master Sword skyward. The sharp steel conducted lightning like a magnet. Instead of electrocuting its holder, the sword instead absorbed the charge. Sparks arced up and down the blade.

Without hesitation, he swung down. The stored energy released in a spiraling blue disc.

It hit dead on the mark. The Wizzrobe wasn’t laughing now; it shrieked and writhed in agony before crumpling to the ground like a sack of bricks.

Casting his focus off the monster for the moment, Sky rushed to his friend’s side. The Hero of Hyrule lay still— too still. Sky feared the worst. Then, he groaned weakly and opened his eyes.

“Thank Hylia!” Sky exclaimed. “Can you stand?”

“I’m f-fine,” Hyrule gulped in air and it felt like swallowing thorns. He struggled to his feet, feeling lightheaded and ignoring the invisible sledgehammer pounding his skull. He gingerly touched his side and winced. Unlike Sky, he was definitely going to have a huge, nasty bruise after this. He was lucky nothing was broken.

The Wizzrobe’s breathing came in ragged gasps. Despite its heavy injuries, it still managed to wheeze out a few giggles like the whole situation, even from its perspective, was somehow funny.

Slowly, it rose. Head bowed, its snorts transformed into snarls. Darkness gathered around it, dimming the atmosphere even further. “You…”

Sky reached back and unslung his Goddess Shield. Hyrule tensed, trying to ignore his trembling limbs.

“YOU!!” the creature screeched. Its head snapped up, bloodred eyes swirling like twin maelstroms. “You will die!”

And darkness enveloped the demon like a tornado, twisting and surging until its form was unrecognizable in the vortex. For a heartbeat, a humanoid figure could be made out. Then it swelled up, gaining mass and muscle. Extra limbs grew out of its body, as did horns, hair, and a weapon.

The vortex dispersed. The Heroes, shell-shocked, could only gape.

Before them towered a giant; a black Lynel easily four times their size, carrying a gleaming Great Flameblade nearly six feet in length. Its right hand held a cruel bladed shield. Its mane and stripes were the color of smoke, and its eyes were the same hellish crimson that had been haunting the Heroes since the stroke of midnight. It bared its long, sharp teeth in a menacing snarl.

Hyrule’s voice was failing him. “By the Triforce,” he whispered hoarsely, “it can’t be.”

“Hyrule?” Sky shot him a concerned glance. “You all right?”

But Hyrule said no more. He was rooted to the spot, eyes wide and face whiter than a ghost. The Magic Sword dangled loosely in his left hand.

Sky had seen this before, in the Hero of the Wild. Hyrule was having a flashback. A bad one, from the looks of it; it had him utterly petrified.

Sky glanced furtively at his friend, not wanting to take his eyes off the Lynel, which crouched low to the ground and growled. It stared at Hyrule in an almost hungry sort of way.

It senses his fear! Sky realized with a jolt. And some instinct told him the Lynel also sensed why.

Determination surged through the Chosen Hero’s blood. He stepped forward and planted himself right between Hyrule and the Lynel. Pointing his sword directly at its chest, he said, “I won’t let you hurt my friend. But if you insist, you’ll have to go through me first.”

“Fool,” the beast snarled. Its voice had grown scarily deep. “You have no idea whom you’re dealing with. Stand aside. I will face the one who knows to fear me.”

Without flinching, Sky met its ominous gaze. “No. You won’t.”

All too eager to accept the challenge, the Lynel sprang high off the ground. It aimed the Flameblade’s tip straight down, at his skull.

The familiarity of the move surprised the Hero. Hyrule often executed it against tough enemies, a more recent example being the infected Moblin.

Being a straightforward attack, it could be easily avoided. But Sky realized he had no choice but to take it. The Lynel had him pinned. He couldn’t dodge without exposing Hyrule.

So the Chosen Hero gritted his teeth and, just before the Flameblade skewered him, parried with his Goddess Shield with all his might.

The impact created a clean ringing sound. Sky and the Lynel broke apart, but only for a moment. Sky rushed in close. Sacred steel clashed with metal forged in hellfire.

The Lynel lashed out not only with its Flameblade, but also with its shield and fists. But Sky was ready. He ducked and dodged every mighty swing, every blow that could crush his bones to dust. Every swipe that could cut him to ribbons. All the while, the Master Sword flashed like lightning as Sky slashed and cut. A hit landed every time; the Lynel would have more scars than stripes by the time this duel ended.

He’d cornered the Lynel right up against the trees’ edge. Its breathing was labored. Saliva and blood dripped from its fangs. Still, the sheer hatred in its scarlet eyes glowed ever stronger, as if that was all it needed to sustain itself.

It charged like a bull. Several hundred pounds of pure muscle barreled towards him. Sky jumped to the side only just in time. He thrust the Master Sword forward, but the Lynel evaded with supernatural speed. It slammed its shield into Sky, sending him hurtling into a tree. The Master Sword spun out of his hand like a boomerang and skidded out of reach. Trapped between a demon and a hard place, he had no room to move. Letting loose a triumphant roar, the beast raised its blade and plunged it into its foe.

Across the clearing, the Hero of Hyrule woke from his daze to see Sky pinned to the ground, struggling desperately against a ruthless barrage of attacks with his Goddess Shield as his sole defense. The shield was cracked, and it widened with every blow; it wouldn’t last much longer. Sky cried out as a mighty blow nearly shattered his left arm.

Hyrule yelled as loud as he could and charged.

Maybe he should have stopped and thought a moment. Maybe he could have drawn his bow and shot the creature instead of rushing in like an idiot, which is the absolute worst thing someone could do while fighting a monster as fearsome as a Lynel.

But Hyrule didn’t think. All he knew is that Sky needed just a few seconds to grab the Master Sword and get back into the fight, and by the Triforce, Hyrule was going to give him those seconds.

So he did something the Hero of the Wild would be proud of— he rushed up behind the Lynel, jumped on its back, and hacked and slashed like a man possessed.

In his rush to crawl away and reclaim the Master Sword, Sky paid no attention to the commotion. Relief swelled in when he at last held it again, but it changed to shock as he turned and saw Hyrule, clinging to the Lynel as it shook him like a squirrel.

“What in Hylia’s name are you doing?” he shouted.

“S-s-saving y-your life!” Hyrule gasped out, way too close to biting his tongue off. He couldn’t hold on anymore. Utilizing the Lynel’s frantic energy, he launched himself clear away from it and landed on his feet beside Sky.

Having shaken itself free of one pesky Hero, the Lynel sprang backwards, as far across the clearing as it could. Black blood poured out from many large and small wounds. Although it was weakened, a deafening roar, the loudest one yet, tore from its throat. Its eyes flashed like red lightning. The wind howled like a hurricane, shaking the cursed forest to its roots.

Taking a deep breath, Hyrule readied his sword and shield. “This is it,” he said. “If we attack it from both sides, this should be manageable.” He glanced at Sky. “Ready?”

Sky nodded, a steely glint in his eye.

But before either party could make a move, an arrow zipped between the trees and pierced the Lynel’s right foreleg. It staggered dangerously before losing its balance. Leaning awkwardly on its knees, it was down for the moment.

The Hero of Legend strode out with bow in hand, jaw clenched, and a face dark as thunder. “Trap me in a nightmare, will you?” he spat at the Lynel. “Consider that arrow your first and last warning.”

As he spoke, the rest of the Heroes emerged from all sides, eyes sharp and swords unsheathed. Each wore the same determined expression.

Surrounded by nine men and boys, each one skilled in swordplay, archery, magic, and a whole host of other strange powers and devices, the Lynel’s victory seemed uncertain. As it finally rose up, was that a glimmer of fear Sky detected behind its eyes?

The Hero of Warriors flashed a dazzling smile at Sky and Hyrule, who stood agape. “You two have been through quite the ordeal tonight! Still up for more?” He offered a hand to Sky, who still knelt on the ground.

The two exchanged glances. The sudden appearance of their friends had given them a tiny moment’s respite, allowing their exhaustion to pounce like a lion. If he were being honest, Sky wasn’t sure if he had any energy left. But one look at Hyrule’s resolute face, and he knew he had to finish this.

“You know it,” he said. He clasped Warriors’ hand and was pulled to his feet. “From dealing with this guy all night, I know it’ll take every single one of us to win.”

“Yeah,” Hyrule agreed. “Besides, we can’t let you have all the glory.”

Warriors’ grin widened. “Glad to hear it.”

Sounding a battle cry, the Heroes charged the Lynel.

#linkeduniverse #loz #legend of zelda #the legend of zelda #tloz #link

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raikubn · 5 years

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Two guardians find themselves in the middle of a dark room.

None of them know what happened or why are they here, but for some reason they have a bad feeling about this.

The confusion doesn’t last long, suddenly an unknown voice would be heard echoing the place. Just by hearing it makes clear that this voice has evil intentions.

The voice says that they brought the guardians here for a little “experiment” of some sorts.

Before being able to respond to this, a big magical screen would appear floating in the air, showing a split image of two persons being tortured... These persons would be recognized almost instantly by the guardians, since they’re the most loved person of each one...

The scene would instantly cause extreme anger and frustration to the guardians, the voice informing that they have two options available...

They can do nothing, letting the persons die and in exchange surviving for fulfilling their respective role on earth.

Or fight each other to the death, letting the survivor and the persons being able to escape... But the loser’s loved one would clearly hate the winner forever...

After saying this the voice would laugh in an evil way as it slowly fades away, no longer present.

The guardians would start getting stressed without knowing what to do, no attemps of destroying or leaving the room being successful as the persons on screen continue getting hurt.

The idea of killing the other doesn’t appear in their mind, since none of them really want to reach that point... That is, until the young man starts laughing maniacally, the stress of the moment perhaps?

No, it’s something else... He’d turn to look at the other guardian with a malicious look in his eyes. He’d confess that he was the one behind all this, the person who’s supposed to be his loved one being just a simple puppet...

He’d say that he’s disappointed of the guardian’s hesitation towards killing someone who is unknown to them for saving a more important person, and then laugh once more, making fun of them...

Once done laughing, some golden scales would start appearing on his body; and also dragon-like horns, tail and wings all of the same color as he approached towards them... Saying that he’d get rid of such useless guardian

But in reality, none of these things were true...

He was acting, giving his life so the others could escape this situation... And hopefully find a solution in the future...

Even if he didn’t actually got killed in the end by the guardian’s hand, he was already using a power that was slowly draining his life force...

He’d use his full potential, but never trying to win the fight...

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Yo.

This first started this as a fanart of a certain design that @aria-otter doodled and I liked, about their persona’s abilities under extreme circumstances.

And with that fact in mind while drawing I tried making a tiny story centered on a difficult situation that could maybe trigger it, and also including my boi(cuzwhynot:’’3).

I may have missed something while doing this, hopefully that’s not the case ; w;

Anyway, hope ya enjoyed!

And also here’s a “probably more realistic first impression” extra:

maybeishouldmentionthatthisisatoothlessdancereference

#my art #fanart #drawing #story #artists on tumblr #raikudraws #encounter #aria-otter #raik #i've been meaning to post this for a long while already #but school has been keeping me busy/ded #at least i managed to finish #i wanted to make the toothless reference more clear but didn't know how u wu #but this also shows how much of a clown i can end up being x'd

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elena-reina · 5 years

Text

Torture - Draco Malfoy x Reader

Prompt: Draco is forced to torture you

Warnings: Violence, added some of the original torture done to Hermione

Y/N: Your name

Your breathing was ragged and unstable. You'd let yourself be captured by the Death Eaters so that your best friend Harry Potter could escape. You thought that it was better you than him seeing as he was the chosen one. The famous Boy Who Lived.

At first you didn’t recognize where you were, but it all became familiar the moment you saw portraits everywhere. You were in the Malfoy Mansion and currently, the Death Eaters were trying to get as much information out of you as possible. Draco’s parents were here, along with Bellatrix eyeing you up and down, with a smug look on her face. She twirled around you, waving her wand around.

"Oh, I know you," she sang, "You're Draco's little girlfriend aren't you? A filthy mudblood.”

Another Death Eater whispered something in Bellatrix's ear, making her eyes light up. She began to cackle. "That's such a wonderful idea. Let's get my dear nephew in here. Oh Dracoooo!" she called. You widened your eyes. She’s Draco’s aunt? Draco is related to her. No. There’s no way he is related to her.

Soon enough, Draco entered the room and he gasped when he saw you. Your petrified eyes met his worried ones.

“Hi, Drakey!” Bellatrix cooed, and followed with an evil laugh, “Look who we found! Don’t worry, our Dark Lord shall be here soon enough.”

“Let her go,” he spat through gritted teeth. You could see him clenching his fists. He wasn’t only scared for him, but also for you.

“Oh no.. no... there will be none of that. Let’s have a little bit of fun, shall we!” she giggled and jumped onto you, tackling you to the floor.

“Lucius, restrain our dear Draco will you.”

Lucius grabbed onto Draco and held him back for whatever was about to happen. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you stared at Bellatrix pinning you to the ground. You turned your head to the side and looked at Draco, pleadingly.

“Stop!” he boomed, “Leave her out of this!”

“Now, all I want is a little information on your little friend, Harry Potter,” she hissed, “Can you give that to me and all of this can end right now.”

I rolled my eyes. “Go to hell!”

Bellatrix, smirked and pulled out her wand, turning her gaze towards Draco.

Draco’s eyes widened, and his eyes turned black. He started to run towards you when he saw what she was about to do, but Lucius restrained him, allowing her to continue. As you were laying on the ground, she grabbed your arm and spread it across the floor.

“Wha-What are you doin-”

You let out a loud, shrilling cry of agony. You clenched your fist, trying to pull your arm closer to you, but her grip was too strong. The pain on the underside of your arm was unbearable. You couldn’t hold back your screams. The pain caused your vision to blur and tears to cascade down your face. With every scream, you pleaded for her to stop.

You were screaming your lungs raw and began to give up fighting. Sobs were wracking up your body due to the excruciating pain in your arm. The pain felt endless. She never stopped, never showed some sort mercy, and never quit shouting curses and insults towards you. You were growing weaker by the minute and soon you were seeing black spots dance around in your vision. But then all of a sudden, the pain subsided. It was still very much there as your body ached all over, and your head was spun from all the screaming you couldn’t hold back.

You weakly managed to open your eyes and see Draco roughly push his aunt off of you and across the floor screaming at her. You looked over at your bloodied arm and looked at what was written.

M-U-D

She didn’t get the chance to finish writing mudblood.

“CRUCIO!” he shouted with tears streaming down his face, his wand pointed at her. She began to writhe in pain, “If you ever touch her again, I swear, I WILL KILL YOU!”

And in that moment, the one and only Dark Lord appeared, Voldemort.

“My Lord,” everyone around him began to say except for Draco and Bellatrix. Draco’s body grew stiff the moment he heard those words. He slowly put away his wand up his sleeve and clenched his fists. Bellatrix’s suffering ended, and she stood up quickly, brushing her hair with her hands.

“My Lord,” she cackled, seeming unharmed as she looked between you and Draco with a smirk.

Voldemort noticed you on the floor. “Ah, it’s been nice of you to join us today...,” he began but didn’t know who you were.

You couldn’t respond due to your weakened state.

“Y/N!” Bellatrix finished for him, “She’s Drakey’s little girlfriend!”

“Oh.. is that so?” he drawled out, “Is this true, Draco?”

Draco’s jaw was clenched as he stared at Voldemort with both fear and hatred. “Yes.”

“Well!” Voldemort clapped with malicious joy, “Isn’t this wonderful! Young love... what is she doing here? Has she come to join us?”

“Why no, my Dark Lord, you see as we tried to capture Harry Potter, she got in the way and we ended up catching her instead. So we tried to get some information out of her but she wouldn’t budge,” a Death Eater spoke up.

There was nothing else you could do or say, other than still feel the throbbing pain on your arm.

“What a terrible turn of events. We can’t simply let this go, now can we, there has to be some sort of order,” he hissed and then turned to Draco. A devilish grin appeared on his face, “We’ll just have to do some persuading. Draco, seeing as Y/N is your girlfriend, why don’t you do us the honors.”

A lump formed in your throat.

“Wh-What?” Draco stuttered.

“Draco. Do it,” Bellatrix spat, “DO IT!”

You weakly looked into Draco’s eyes. You knew he had no other choice. You knew he would be killed if he didn’t follow his orders.

“I-I can’t,” he said, turning towards the Dark Lord.

“Draco!” Lucius hissed at him.

Draco turned back towards you and took his wand in his hand. He took a few steps back hesitantly and pointed it at you.

“Cr-Crucio!” he cried.

An indescribable feeling of pain and stinging washed all over your whole body. All you could do was scream in agony.

“Again,” Voldemort smiled.

“Crucio!” Draco sobbed.

Louder and louder your screams became. It was unbearable, there was nothing you could do.

“Dr-Draco!” you wailed, knowing that he couldn’t control it.

“AGAIN!” Voldemort screamed, laughing like a maniac.

“NO!” he screamed, turning around to face the Dark Lord with his wand pointed at him.

“Draco! What are you doing!” Narcissa exclaimed, worried for him.

“How dare you disrespect our Dark Lord!” Lucius gasped, completely furious with Draco.

He couldn’t hurt you anymore. He couldn’t be the one behind all of your pain. So he did as Voldemort asked.

Draco took a deep breath. “CRUCIO!” he shouted, but this time, at the Dark Lord. Voldemort quickly took out his wand and whipped the curse away. But while he did that, Draco quickly plunged for you, sweeping you up in his arms. His eyes were full of tears and rage. He quickly ran out of the house he had once grown up in and apparated away. Tears were still streaming down your face as blood was spilling out of your arm, staining his clothes. He brought you to Hogwarts and quickly ran inside. He brought you up to his room and held you close to him.

“I’m so sorry my love. I’m sorry. You’re okay, everything’s okay now. I’m never going to let anything or anyone hurt you ever again. I’m so sorry... I’m sorry,” he began to sob, repeating his apologies over and over. By now, you had already passed out from exhaustion.

"My beautiful Angel," he sobbed pulling you into his arms, never wanting to let you go. "I love you. So much," he choked and placed a kiss on your cold lips.

The next morning, you could barely open your eyes. You tried to move, but your body ached all over. You winced in pain, the moment you tried to sit up.

“No, no stay laying down, my Angel,” Draco rushed the moment he noticed you awake, looking into your eyes. He held your cheek with one hand and brushed the hair out of your face with the other. You stared back at your boyfriend.

He looked unruly and his hair was everywhere. He had dark circles under his eyes and his clothes were all ruffled.

“H-How,” you coughed from your dry voice, “How long have I been-”

“A couple days,” he answered for you, “Don’t worry, I have not left your side once.”

You believed it with his current state. It didn’t look like he bathed or ate. You held onto his arm for support, and forcefully pulled yourself up. You sucked in a breath, from the pain. He held onto you with sad eyes. You looked down at your arm and noticed it wrapped up in bandages. You frowned, remembering the night that felt like yesterday.

“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault, my love. You shouldn’t have to had gone through all of this pain,” he began to cry. You shushed him and pressed your lips onto his to quiet him.

You knew he was also hurting. He felt guilty for all that has happened to you and it broke your heart. You knew that he would be beating himself up for it for the rest of his life.

“Draco stop, you know you had no control over any of this. He would have killed you-”

“Stop trying to make this all okay! It’s not, it’s all my fault,” he muttered. You weakly, wrapped your arms around him and he hugged you back desperately wanting you to feel better. You winced and his noticed, immediately regretting it. “I-I didn’t mean-”

You shushed him. “You’re okay. I’m okay. I love you,” you whispered into his ear. He shook with tears. “I love you so much.” You kept repeating that until he calmed down.

He pulled back and hastily pressed his lips onto yours. “I’m never going to leave your side ever again.”

“I know you won’t,” you breathed and pulled him back for one more kiss.

#draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy oneshots #draco malfoy one shot #draco imagine #draco #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #imagine #one shot #tom felton

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foreverandalwayshttyd · 5 years

Text

so like ummm....kinda disappointed we never got a hiccstrid proposal (but who am I️ to complain since we did get to see their wedding and children) and i just felt like them wanting to get married was never resolved. and that my friends, is why we have fan fiction! this is set in that sexy little snippet where they give each other bedroom eyes on the ship in the final battle hehe (if that wasn’t a perfect place to propose idk what was)

Blown Away

The palpitations in Hiccup's chest rapidly increased when the malicious hunter drew his weapon. Hiccup took a quick look at his surroundings for help....Thor even an escape route from this psychopath who wanted him dead.

No Toothless. Still captured. No friends. Busy saving their own dragons. Inferno was across the other side of the ship when it had been knocked out of his hand. Good thing it was the fire sword and not his hand. He couldn't afford to lose another limb.

Hiccup backed up slowly, as he flipped down the mask part of his helmet. He hoped that his armor would protect him at least a little bit from the impact of one of Grimmel’s most tough looking strong hunters, oversized mace.

“If you plan on killing me, Grimmel might not like that. I'm pretty sure he wants to finish me off himself." Hiccup said half heartedly, as it came across muffled under his black thick helmet. All he got in response was a cold, evil chuckle that made Hiccup feel uncomfortable.

"Grimmel doesn't care about you. All he wants is your pet dragon. So nothing is standing in my way," The man croaked lowly as Hiccup slowly backed up, tripping over some cargo doing so. He fell onto his rear with a thud and kept slowly backing up, hands up in defense.

"He'll never kill Toothless. Not so long as I'm around," Hiccup said from below, as the man threw his head back in laughter. "We'll see about that boy," He raised his mace above his head as Hiccup cringed back awaiting the impact.

Surprisingly it never came though, as the man's breath hitched with pain and he fell to the hard deck with a vibrating thump. Hiccup turned pale as he saw an arrow sticking into the unfortunate man's side, piercing very deeply. Hiccup flipped up his mask and managed to whip his head around in shock, and gasped in relief when he saw who his savior was.

There, a furious aghast girl in blue scaly armor stood, bow still reeled back. She dropped the bow to the ground as her breathing started to catch up to her. She made eye contact with Hiccup, a wave of relief washing over her face. Her shoulders went up and down along with her dragged breathing pattern, eyes widened in shock.

Hiccup's mouth couldn't help but form a tiny smile. He shakily stood up and looked down at the dead body beneath him, then back to his beloved. He rushed over to his girlfriend and embraced her tightly, as she returned the meaningful gesture, burying her head into his shoulder. She sighed contently into him as Hiccup could've sworn he heard her assuring herself that he was alive.

"Are you okay?" She asked frantically, checking to make sure he wasn't injured. She couldn't stop breathing so fast and she looked so anxious. Hiccup grew concerned as he'd never seen her this worried. He’d been in tons of danger in the past, but she never got this frantic. Something was off.

"Thanks to you. Have you found any of the dragons?" he asked as he rushed to retrieve inferno, cautiously stepping over the dead body. Astrid kicked away the bow on the hard deck, not wanting to ever even look at the weapon she had just killed someone with.

"Skullcrusher and Cloudjumper were found. None of the others. We've freed a couple dozen at least, but no matter how many times we free them, Grimmel's men seem to always be one step ahead." Astrid complained as Hiccup drew Inferno to make sure it wasn't damaged. His face lit up when the sword remained unharmed, and glowed against his determined face.

"And how is that different from any other rescue mission?" Hiccup asked as he cocked his brow, reeling inferno back and clicking it to the hatch on his leg. He walked back over to his girlfriend who had a stern expression planted across her face.

"Because this time they're killing the dragons." Astrid said, dead serious. Hiccup's face paled once more, as his shoulders shuttered in fear. He took a look at his surroundings. The boat they were only inhabited them now, along with some unconscious bodies. Loads of cargo and empty cages, and other boats slowly making they’re way over to dock and aboard the ship the two lovers stood upon.

Massive ships held dozens of dragons captive, along with loads of men firing at the freed dragons in the sky. He could hear Tuff's battle cry from the distance, probably freaking out some hunters, but that's not who he was worried about. It was Toothless and the Light Fury. It wouldn’t be long before Grimmel tried to get rid of them both. Which is why he had to hurry and get to his best friend before it was too late.

"Then we stop them. No matter what the cost is, we can't let Grimmel get away with this. I have to try and stop this-" Hiccup said, as he flipped his mask over his face and rushed to the edge of the boat getting ready to unfold his wings. But Astrid's trembling arm caught hold of his before he could take off.

"Wait!" Astrid's quivering voice called out to him. Hiccup froze in place and turned to face her distressed face. He flipped up his mask to reveal the concerned expression on his face. They both stood across from each other, as Astrid began to speak, after taking a shaky breath.

"Look, I support you Hiccup. I always have and I always will. I promised you I would.....and I'm not going to break that promise," Her voice started to shake a bit as Hiccup looked at his girlfriend concerned. What did he do to deserve her honestly.

"Grimmel is not like anything we've faced before. He's ruthless, a maniac, and will stop at nothing if it means getting to Toothless. Even killing you," She struggled getting the last bit out of her mouth as her stress level was high enough to shoot through the roof - or ship in this case.

"Astrid-" Hiccup reached for her hand, but Astrid wasn't about to stop. This distressed feeling inside her needed to leave so she could tell him to go and finish the fight like always.....but it seemed impossible now, because she didn't want to lose or leave the love of her life. Not now.

"I just want you to know," She cupped his cheek with her palm as Hiccup began to feel tense, "That I would've married you in a heart beat if I knew it was coming to this. If we don't make it......just.....know I would've loved to have a family with you, grow old with you...and...lead a village with you. Because I love you Hiccup Haddock. Way more than you'll ever think I do." One single tear slid down Hiccup's cheek as he grabbed Astrid's hands and held them close to his chest. His brows furrowed sympathetically as he stared at this beautiful girl he fell in love with all those years ago.

This girl meant the world to him. And now he finally knew that he meant the world to her. His emotions were racing around like crazy through his mind now as knew he needed to save Toothless, but didn't want to leave his beloved in such a tender moment. Astrid sighed as she knew what he was thinking. She silently begged him to go. It was time now. She said what she needed to say.

"Then...since you've kept your promise of supporting me all the way, promise me this. Promise me all of those things will happen. Because I love you too. And if we do make it....we're getting married. I'm not wasting anymore time. Promise me you'll stay alive," He begged, holding both her hands close to his chest, as Astrid chuckled.

"It's you that you should be worried about. I'll be fine. And I took that as a proposal and I say yes." She said contently, her blue eyes glistening in the orange hue that the setting sun and explosives made, regaining back her warrior spirit. Hiccup beamed with a warm smile, and then nervously scratched the back of his neck.

"A-and, you don't mind me asking you in the middle of this chaos, where we could literally die any moment. Not some peaceful setting or something?" He stated amusingly, as Astrid placed her hands on her hips shaking her head in retortment.

"Honestly, I should've seen this coming. As long as it's you who's asking me, I don't care where we are." She said amused. They stared into each other’s eyes longingly, both getting lost in a trance. They both perked up immediately as a large Rumblehorn screeched from the sky and fired a huge blast towards one of the ships below, causing a ginormous explosion behind Hiccup and Astrid.

"Aye, Chief! Not to ruin a moment or anythin', but ya might wanna get outta 'ere before those men rip you to smithereens, and your dragon pal gets desolated!" Eret shouted from the sky as he patted his agitated beast, and gestured to fire at another ship load of encaged dragons.

Hiccup and Astrid whipped around to greet men with drawn weapons creeping slowly towards them, with grimaced faces. The couple exchanged looks and had smirks planted across their faces.

"Okay, so it's a deal?" Hiccup asked, as Astrid picked up a nearby spear and threw it into the air, while jumping up and twirling to catch it while landing low as to intimidate her enemies.

The men gasped and looked quite surprised with her agility but that didn't stop them from drawing in closer, as Hiccup drew inferno. Astrid stood up as she blew some of her bangs out of her face.

"It's a deal, so long as I get to take out the man who took my axe." She growled as she eyed the incoming oversized hunter, clutching her axe. Hiccup rolled his eyes playfully as they now stood back to back, weapons drawn. They were now surrounded by angry ferocious hunters, who wanted nothing but their dead bodies.

"He's all yours. Are you with me M'lady?" Hiccup asked from behind, as he could feel Astrid tense up, more fired up than ever to win this war. Astrid tightened her grip around her spear, as she gave him one final glance before rushing into battle.

"Always, babe."

#oof feeeeelz #i actually wrote this awhil ago lol #i still have so many requests to do oof #hiccstrid #httyd fanfiction

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jcmorrigan · 4 years

Text

Little Coincidences

The F/O? Giovanni Potage from Epithet Erased. The S/I? Rachel Scribere - mundie, writer of much fanfiction, independent contractor supervillainous minion who has also given up on adulting. (Most of those things apply to me IRL!) This is the one where I’m REALLY banking on no one who went to high school with me following me on Tumblr right now, because I get into some personal-ish stuff here that was very specific to my graduating class. I just...wanted my current f/o to show up a ghost from my past. And what are f/o’s for, if not that?

***

It started when Giovanni ran past me, pressed a marker into my hand, and yelled, “MARKER FIGHT!”

Yes, there is context. I wanted to simulate the exact sense of confusion for you that I felt when he did that.

To be clear, it was during down time in the “evil lair” that our sector of Blasters had taken over – a public library that had been defunded by the city but never torn down, so really, it was a bunch of empty bookshelves (where you could occasionally find an old and really weird book they’d missed on the clear-out) where no one would think to look for us because this entire building was basically a health hazard. We were only about ninety-five percent sure there wasn’t asbestos in the walls.

Also, if I’ve talked before about the mall incident, or the kiss before the skyline – this was before that. A lot before that. Back when I knew I liked Giovanni in the romantic sense, but he wasn’t exactly aware of that, nor did he really like me in that way. No, this was when I was a pining idiot and we were just friends.

At which point he shoved a marker into my hand.

“What the fuck?” I asked.

“MARKER FIGHT,” he repeated, as though that explained everything.

The worst part was that it actually did.

See, I hadn’t wanted to say it at that time, but it frightened me. I’d seen this done before, in one very specific place. How had he known? “Just to be clear,” I said deliberately, “this is that game where each of us wields a marker of a different color, we LARP it out, drawing on someone is a ‘wound,’ and we tally the winner by who has the most of their color on everyone else?”

“Good. I was worried I’d have to explain the whole thing to you. Now we can skip the tutorial phase and go right to the EVERY-BOY-FOR-HIMSELF RIVALRY!” He let out a raucous and malicious-sounding cackle for about thirty solid seconds before telling me, “You get a ten-second head start.”

I wasted no time bolting away from him, darting at random zigzags through the shelves to avoid any other Blasters who were playing. Then I heard the triumphant scream of “TIME IS UP, COMPOSER!”

At which point I almost ran into Ben.

“Oh, SWEET!” he cried, raising a red marker high. “Maybe this is how I finally get the nickname ‘Stabby’!”

I screamed as he put a red mark across my forehead. I then retaliated, drawing a line of cobalt-blue down his ear as though lopping it off.

“MY EAR!” Ben screeched. “SHE VAN-GOGHED ME!”

I used his cries to dart away around the shelves…right into the same area as Crusher.

“So,” he growled, raising his lime-green marker. “It’s come to this…ROMANTIC RIVAL.”

“Don’t try me right now,” I warned, showing him my deep-blue pseudo-dagger. “I’m armed and dangerous.”

“I think the only way to settle our mutual affections for the Boss is to duel to the death.”

“So you have chosen death, then.”

It was rather obvious why Crusher and I didn’t really get along most days. However, for a few minutes, we kind of forgot that we were supposed to hate each other. I managed to leave several long blue lines up Crusher’s arms, screaming “SUBMIT! SUBMIT!”, until suddenly I was pinned down, getting green scribbled down my entire face as Crusher roared, “SURRENDERRRRRR!”

From a row away, Ben groaning, “Come onnnnn, you know I have dibs on ‘Stabby’! Don’t ruin this for me!”

Suddenly, Crusher’s eyes widened; “I’VE BEEN HIT!” He rolled over onto his back, making exaggerated, dramatic death noises.

“COMPOSER!” Spike, the one who’d perpetrated the fatal silver blow, extended a hand to me. “TEMPORARY ALLIANCE!”

I let her help me up just in time for Flamethrower to skid into the area, striking several cheerleader-precision poses with flair as he brandished his fire-orange marker.

“AVENGE MEEEEEE!” Crusher yelled.

Flamethrower’s cheerleading practice was put to good use. Spike and I combined couldn’t stymie him; he danced circles around us, and our skin displayed orange marks of his prowess. Meanwhile, Crusher changed “death” positions five times, making louder groans each time to try and get attention.

“CRUSHERRRRR!” this from Darkstar, who’d just skidded onto the scene. “NOOOOOO! WHO DID THIS TO YOU?”

“THEY DID IT!” Flamethrower jabbed his marker at Spike and myself.

“HE DID IT!” we yelled, pointing back at him.

“FLAMETHROWER!” Darkstar accused. “HOW COULD YOU?”

“ME? BUT – “

“THIS MEANS WAAAAAAR!”

As Team Composer finally got the upper hand on Flamethrower, Darkstar paused to whisper to me, “I know one of you two got him, but I’ve been waiting for WEEKS to get Flamethrower back for eating my pudding out of the staff lounge.”

We didn’t argue.

Behind the shelf, Ben yelled, “Oh, where was this when you found ME stabbed?”

We all froze when the sound of a running motor alerted us to the impending horror.

“…Please tell me Boss decided to bring his Vespa into this to spice it up,” I said, voicing what we were all thinking. “Please, please, please tell me it was NOT hijacked by – “

Our worst fears were confirmed when Car Crash came driving Giovanni’s scooter around the corner at top speed, his marker taped to the handlebars; “BEEP BEEP, FUCKERS!”

All of our rivalries were gone. We screamed and ran as one herd of panicked cattle, trying to get as far away as possible from Car Crash on a stolen motorized vehicle. At some point, Ben ended up in our crowd. I didn’t bother asking.

As it turned out, we were all playing right into the hands of the enemy. We hurried to the circular area around the children’s info desk only to find the area quickly filling up with a thick mist. Mist that smelled…suspiciously delicious.

“NO!” I screeched. “MISSION ABORT! MISSION – “

It was too late. We were trapped in the Fog of Lost Souls.

“BOSS, NO!” Crusher dropped to his knees. “SPARE ME! PLEASE! I LOVE YOU!”

“I LOVE YOU MORE!” Spike screeched. “SPARE ME INSTEAD!”

I couldn’t even see either of them. Somehow, we’d all gotten horribly separated. The distinct sound of Car Crash running the Vespa into the info desk and groaning, “Aw, man!” resounded.

The maniacal laughter I’d heard earlier when gifted my weapon sounded again, but louder, and from on high – he was standing on top of one of the bookshelves. “YOU POOR, SIMPLE FOOLS! …WhoIloveverymuchandhateinsultingbutthisisaroleplay. YOU WALKED RIGHT INTO YOUR OWN DOOM! Alliances and loyalty mean nothing in this bloodthirsty war! NONE OF YOU SHALL BE SPARED! TELEPORTS RAPIDLY BEHIND EVERYONE!”

I’m half convinced he actually did teleport this time, because the screams sounded from everyone right in order of one another; somehow, Giovanni was able to locate each of us within his fog and strike out, drawing glitter-gold wounds on each of us in strategic locations. I could feel the cool ink swipe hard across the back of my neck.

I did the only thing one could do, which was to drop to my knees and scream in faux anguish. Then slump to the floor as if well and truly decapitated.

When the fog cleared, it turned out all of us had had the same idea, lying strewn about like a murder scene. Even the Vespa had been drawn on in metallic gold ink in the confusion and was lying toppled.

Atop the info desk, Giovanni laughed triumphantly, hoisting his marker to the ceiling. “YOU ARE DEALING WITH NO MERE MORTAL! THIS WAR WAS LOST THE MOMENT IT WAS BEGUN!”

“Would it be foul play to act like we were all just playing dead and then rush him at once?” I muttered.

To my surprise, it was Crusher of all people who answered back, “No, it wouldn’t.”

We all knew what we had to do.

“Hey – “ Giovanni nearly fell back off the desk. “Boys – no – YOU’RE ALL DEAD – “

I yelled “FAKEOUT!” at the same time that Spike yelled “MUTINY!” and Ben yelled “ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE!”

We charged, climbing up onto the desk. It was your standard library info desk – at least standard to all the ones I’d seen – meaning it was semicircular in design. Giovanni fell back onto the floor right in the middle of the circlular area. After a brief pause in which he assured us, “I’m fine; please continue,” we vaulted over the desk en masse and drew on every bit of exposed skin to the sounds of his tortured screams.

It was the most fun I’d had on the Blasters since becoming a Blaster-adjacent independent contractor villain. However, I still couldn’t shake how haunting it was that I had already known the rules of marker war. There was no way – I hadn’t gone to school with any of the Blasters, and my family hadn’t even started out in Sweet Jazz City. And I wasn’t sure at all how to address this.

***

The second incident was also in the library, a few days later. I was heading into the employee lounge (which had originally, when it was a functioning library, been…an employee lounge) with my phone so I could make a highly sensitive business call about appraising a hijacked load of game consoles, followed up by a dentist appointment I’d been putting off.

One minute, I was strolling into the lounge, strutting like any villain would, phone in hand. And the next, I was sitting on the floor, heart racing with adrenaline, someone’s scream ringing in the air.

It took me a moment to realize that scream was mine.

It was followed up by laughter – a slowly building wheeze into an outright chortle. “Composerrrrrr! I knew you’d freak, but not like THAT!”

I replayed the events in my mind. What had happened in that missing flash was that someone who’d been hiding behind the door frame had leapt at me and jumpscared me while I had been on my way into the lounge.

Not just any someone. No, one very specific fanged, pink-haired ball of energy.

“GIOVANNI…POTAGE,” I growled, slowly turning my head to regard him.

He had tears in his eyes now from laughing so hard. “You should’ve seen your face,” he squeaked. “It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life!”

Well, I’d always wanted to hear that from him, but not in that context.

“I…am going…to kill you,” I growled.

With an “Eek!”, Giovanni realized he needed to run, and he did so.

I needed a weapon. The fridge was the first thing I saw. Throwing open the door, I saw a pack of pudding cups labeled “DARKSTAR’S (don’t touch, Flamethrower!!!”). And nothing else.

I did not feel sorry for Darkstar one bit.

Armed with chocolate pudding, I barreled through the rows of shelves, looking for my wayward boss. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t entirely angry. I wasn’t that angry at all. But when your crush jumpscares you, that is just not something you let go without having some fun.

I happened upon him behind the first-floor stairway, where I backed him up against the underside of the stairs. “NOT THE FACE!” he screeched as he put up both arms.

And I lost resolve.

When a few seconds had passed and Giovanni found himself not pelted with pudding, he asked, “Hey, what gives?” as though legitimately frustrated with me. “You caught me! Now you gotta dish out what I gave to you! Geez, did you forget everything I told you about villainy and revenge?”

“This isn’t right,” I muttered. “Sorry for wasting your time. I’ll go now.”

I hadn’t meant it to sound that melodramatic. Anyway, I turned on a heel to return the pudding to its home.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!” Giovanni seized my wrist as I turned away, and I felt my heart flutter. “Composer, this isn’t like you! Where’s the vicious femme fatale I mentored into villainous perfection?”

I froze. “Actually doing anything about the jumpscare is more effective at scaring people off than the scare itself, believe it or not.”

“What the hell? What even is that crap? Just get me back already! Stop being weird!”

Maybe, just maybe, I’d gotten this all wrong.

So I started slowly and deliberately unwrapping the lid of the first pudding cup right there in front of him.

“Now RIGHT IN THE FACE!” Giovanni encouraged.

I gave him a quizzical look.

“Come onnn, Composer! I don’t have all day!”

So I slopped the pudding onto his face halfheartedly.

“Seriously?” he sighed. “You can do way better than that.”

“You’re right,” I realized. “I can.”

So I smacked the second one onto his nose, full stop.

“Now THAT’S what I call some DELICIOUS VENGEANCE!” Giovanni laughed. “But seriously. I have things to do. Important, evil things.”

“Okay. I still have to make those calls.”

“In the lounge?”

“Yeah.”

“…Could you do me a favor and get me a soda from the gas station across the street first? I’m thirsty and decaffeinated.”

I shrugged, rather confused but not about to be rude about it. “Sure. Be right back.”

“I’ll come pick it up from you in the lounge.”

It wasn’t until I was repeating my steps that I realized the ruse. “Oh, no fuckin’ way,” I muttered as I approached the lounge.

I shook the plastic soda up good and hard. Then chucked it into the lounge.

“HYEEEAH!” Giovanni yelled as he revealed himself to scare an inanimate bottle of soda. “…Wait.”

“REALLY?” I groaned, rolling my eyes.

“It was hilarious!” Giovanni argued. “You’re the best person to scare!”

“I do need to actually get some work done today, you know.”

“Fiiiiine,” Giovanni sighed. “I’ll leave you alone. Just – “ His eyes widened as he thought of something. “Hey, you don’t mind me hanging out in here while you make your calls, do you?”

Just me and the object of my affections hanging out alone in a room? What was he playing at?

“See,” he went on mischievously, “if you’re in here making a call like nothing’s wrong, and another Blaster sees you from the outside of the door…”

“They’re going to assume there is absolutely no one waiting to scare them behind it,” I realized. “You’re a fucking genius, Boss.”

“I know.”

“Deal.”

As I took my seat, bringing out my phone, Giovanni had retrieved the soda bottle. “I am pretty thirsty, though – “

“BOSS, DON’T – “

The minute he opened the cap, it exploded into a geyser that soaked him.

I couldn’t make my call for a solid fifteen minutes due to laughing too goddamn hard.

***

The camel’s back broke when we were alone together at the strategy table, going over some reconnaissance notes I’d brought back from a surveillance mission.

“So anyway, I think we have the best chance from one of these three windows,” I explained, cycling through flash cards I’d taped photos to. “We could test for alarms by chucking a good old-fashioned brick through the glass.”

“Or a bottle of soda that was shaken up,” Giovanni teased.

I laughed. And also flushed. I hated that he was so goddamn oblivious, sometimes.

“I mean, it’s practically your specialty!” he argued, leaning back in his chair and setting his ankles on the table, crossing them, one over the other.

The problem was that it was Casual Friday. Which was not an official Blaster protocol, but rather something that Giovanni himself had developed for this specific faction. He’d thought it would improve morale, and he was right. I myself had resorted to a pair of sweatpants and a band T-shirt that didn’t match. He was wearing a pair of battered jeans and a favorite gray sweater of his, edged in white faux fur. That much I had known.

I hadn’t seen his shoes yet.

And right before my eyes, one over the other, he crossed a pair of red Converse high-tops.

The strategy meeting was abandoned. I slammed my flash cards on the table, rising up and yelling, “WHO TOLD YOU?”

“OKAY, I ADMIT IT!” he screamed, looking like I’d gotten him with his hands in the cookie jar. “BEN RATTED HIM OUT BECAUSE BEN’S A SNITCH!”

“HOW. DID BEN. KNOW ABOUT HIM?”

“BECAUSE HE WAS IN THE LOUNGE THAT DAY AND SAW HIM TAKING IT!”

I flinched. “We’re not on the same page, are we?”

“You’re…not asking me about how Ben ratted on Flamethrower for taking Darkstar’s pudding, and I told Darkstar because I thought it would be funny to start shit?”

I wasn’t really sure where to take that. “…No.”

“Thennnnnn what are we talking abouuuuut?” His voice rose a little bit on every word to express his utter confusion.

I sighed heavily. “So you didn’t hear anything about my high school?”

“No.”

“Nothing. Not a thing.”

“Composer, I have no idea where this is going.”

I sat back down. “This is a complicated story. You don’t wanna – “

Instantly, Giovanni had repositioned, leaning across the table excitedly. “IS THIS WHERE I GET TO FINALLY HEAR ABOUT THE DARK AND TRAGIC PART OF YOUR BACKSTORY THAT DROVE YOU TO A LIFE OF CRIME?”

I found myself smiling. “I mean, my parents aren’t dead ghosts. I gotta have some raison d’etre, right?”

“Tell me. Tellmetellmetellme.”

I couldn’t look him in the eye. “So…when I was in high school, there was this…guy.”

“Ooh. This sounds promising.”

“And I really wanted…”

Oh, God. I couldn’t tell Giovanni that I was acting this way because of someone I’d had an obsessive crush on. Then he might make the connection that I had a similar one on him. (I had greatly overestimated how canny Giovanni could be about such things. This was back in the day when you could tell him upfront you loved him more than life itself and he wouldn’t get it.)

“…to be his friend.” And sadly, that was probably the heart of it, more than the romance aspect itself. “He was very loud and weird. But in a good way. Or so I thought, anyway. Not like I was alone, either. Everyone in my school wanted to be near him. EVERYONE. When he changed school districts our last year, there was literally a CROWD of girls around him at his locker begging him to tell them contact info. While I sat several feet away, pretending to read my book, hoping that he’d notice me for NOT being part of the crowd. What a load of bullshit. Then, of course, there are so many guys who claimed to be straight and hung around him just a little too closely…he was that pretty. He was REALLY pretty. And he was smart and he was charismatic and he was fun and…he just…he never wanted to interact with me. He’d throw me just enough of a bone to keep the flame alive, and then act like I wasn’t even real. Probably because I was super dumb and immature back then. Like, way super dumb. I would try to play along with his stunts and he’d blow me off. I finally became disillusioned when he…broke a rule, later on. It doesn’t matter. It was dumb. But I told myself he’d crossed a moral event horizon. I let myself believe it was that one incident for years. …It was never about that. It was about how I wanted to be close to him for years, and he wouldn’t let me in, and he wouldn’t completely shut me out, either. Though maybe that’s my fault for not just…walking up to him and asking him to be my friend. I’ve always been chickenshit.”

“So…what makes you think I know about him?”

Giovanni’s tone struck me as strangely sympathetic. I chanced looking into his eyes –

Oh, God. Wrong move. How had I never noticed they were that brilliantly pink before? I mean, I had known they were pink, but this was like having a rose-colored spotlight turned on me. And were those little gold flecks in the iris? Or was my crush-filter just seeing things?

But once I stopped seeing the trees, I got a good look at the forest. I couldn’t remember having seen Giovanni so pensive. So concerned, yet in a way that wasn’t over an injury sustained by a teammate or the impending arrival of the police. He was genuinely getting sad off this story.

“…Because the little quirks I fell for him for are just weirdly similar to the stuff you’ve been doing this week,” I admitted. “He and his posse did marker war all the time. I think his was red? I always wanted to play in the marker war. It looked like they were having so much fun, and I wanted to face off against him. And then the jumpscare. He did that to me, once. Almost exactly the same way you did. That’s where I learned the tactic of throwing an inanimate object through the door. He got me good, and I got mad, and then we never talked about it, if he thought it was funny or what. I thought maybe he thought I was ACTUALLY mad, and that scared him off.”

“So THAT’S why you didn’t exact your chocolatey revenge.”

“Bingo. I was just terrible at talking about my feelings, so I just insulted him a lot instead of being honest. It was probably all my fault. And the shoes. He had a pair like that. Exactly like that. I used to try and get his attention by…” I let out a long, deep sigh. “Telling him they looked like they were run over by a ketchup truck.”

“That’s not a bad one-liner.”

“‘KETCHUP TRUCK’ ISN’T A BAD ONE-LINER?” I shook my head. “Anyway. I dunno. I can never figure out if he was just an ass or if I was just…” I sighed. “These are just coincidences, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” Giovanni confirmed. “They are. I thought I invented marker war. If you ever see this guy again, tell him I gotta sue him for the rights. And I wear these shoes ‘cause they’re devil-may-care and hot-rod red, keeping my aesthetic suitably edgy even when out of uniform. …They’re also comfy.”

“So I just told you all that for no reason. Like a dumbass. It isn’t even that great of a tragic backstory, is it?” I was laughing then, to try and cover up how absolutely sheepish I felt. “You didn’t need to know any of that, and nowwwww it’s all awkward.”

“Not awkward. Just…really confusing.”

“How so?”

Giovanni gave me a dramatic shrug; “Why didn’t he wanna hang out with you? You’re GREAT at marker war! You fit right in! And you’re honestly the most fun person I’ve ever scared! You think any of the boys freak out that hard? That was hilarious! You’d better watch your back now, because you’ve given me an incentive to try and do it SO much more.”

I wanted to make some kind of snappy retort about throwing soda bottles. However, it felt like I was receiving a catharsis long overdue. Maybe it didn’t matter who was wrong and who was right, back then. Because now, I had someone who did want to have fun with me.

Just as a friend, I thought. But maybe that was all that mattered, and the crush could be dealt with later.

“I was so much worse back then,” I tried to argue. “I was hyper.”

“So you mean you were even MORE fun?”

I almost wanted to cry.

“Whoa, hey, hey, hey!” Seeing the perturbation on my face, Giovanni rushed around the table, lightly putting his hands on my shoulders as he knelt beside my chair. “You’re plenty fun to hang with, Composer! Every day, I’m really glad I helped you get started in the villain biz and invited you into the lair! I mean…back when I was in high school and I tried to do stuff like that for fun, nobody really paid attention to me, either, and I would’ve KILLED for someone to actually think I was cool instead of just…some weirdo who wore capes to school and drew original supervillain characters for all my art projects.”

“You wore a cape?” I asked. “That is so cool!”

“Yeah, well, no one said that THEN.”

“But it was! Now I’m kinda wishing we could’ve gone in the same graduating class.” And also wishing that he would never take those hands off of me, ever.

“NOYOUDON’T,” he said hurriedly. “Because I was…ummmm…I was a juvenile delinquent, and you were obsessed with rules! Yeah! And I just…wasn’t the person you’d want me to be.”

I wouldn’t figure out until a later discussion what that meant, truly, and it had nothing to do with breaking or following rules. But that doesn’t have to be tread upon now. “Actually, you’re right. Better things happened the way they did.”

“So what else did that loser not do with you for fun?”

“He was the most popular kid in our entire school,” I muttered. “No one thought he was a loser except me.”

“Yeah, because you actually have a BRAIN in there! And I say he was a LOSER!”

I smiled at him. “I guess…I dunno, I always heard he was great at dancing. And I always wished we could dance. Probably just because of societal and cultural expectations. But I’m a shit dancer. Like, there was this whole movement dedicated to making fun of – where are you going?”

Giovanni beckoned for me to follow him; “Come on!”

“Wasn’t this originally a strategy meeting?”

“Don’t care! We’re breaking the rules, baby!”

I followed him back to the staff lounge, where I watched him struggle to push the table off to the side. He got it out of the way before I could offer my help, then flitted to the radio sitting on the counter by the sink. “Let’s see here…”

I could feel my face filling with heat. “Boss, I don’t think this is a great idea.”

“Shut up. It’s my idea, so it’s a great one.” He was cycling through the stations. “No, no, no, no, no, no – PERFECT!”

What he’d found was an anti-authoritarian anthem currently on the rock top 40. Not exactly what you’d think of as a dance number, but it had enough of a beat that I could work with it if pressed.

Which he would have to do a lot of if he wanted to see me make an idiot out of myself like that.

“Come on!” he encouraged. “Show me some moves!”

“I’ll look stupid!” I hissed.

“SO? You don’t see that stopping me from doing literally anything!”

“…Did you even hear how that sounded coming out of your mouth? Also, this isn’t a dance song!”

“Um, it’s a song, so you can dance to it.” He gave a long, drawn-out sigh. “Are you really gonna make me start this?”

“Oh, no, you don’t n – “

“Cut in whenever.”

I wasn’t sure how him starting to dance was supposed to encourage me at all. Because I’ll be honest: he was probably only an average dancer. But I was below average, and looking at him through the crush-filter. He looked like the most graceful living being I’d ever beheld with my two eyes, spinning and rocking in time with the heavy guitar.

I was not going to look good next to that.

Of course, this was not any ordinary man I was dealing with. It was Giovanni Potage. Meaning he had a contingency plan. Without any warning whatsoever, he seized my hand and pulled me into a spin with him, and then, well, I was already in motion, so I had to keep going.

By the third song, it didn’t even feel awkward anymore. I just felt alive. I know I looked like an absolute dork, but I had stopped caring, throwing out arms and leaping about to the hard tempo of every dark anthem. The fourth song was a personal fave of mine – with an incredibly complex guitar riff that just begged a person to go double-time. As I attempted to execute a series of spins to match, I simply lost balance and fell over, hitting the table on my way down.

Stupid. Idiot. Why was I doing this? I’d just made an ass of myself in front of –

Without even really pausing, Giovanni dipped before me, offering his hand. I took it on instinct, then rose, letting him reel me right back in, so glad he’d just hit resume where I’d slammed into pause mode.

At last, I collapsed into the pushed-aside chair, panting heavily. “No more,” I heaved. “I need…to catch…my breath.”

He hopped up to sit on the tabletop beside me. “Now THAT was some fun,” he remarked. “We gotta do that more often.”

This was the same pitfall I’d dropped into so many times back in the day, with the ghost of my past. Making up excuses to get near him. Taking casual opportunities to interact with him without making my real intentions clear. Maybe this whole time, I was afraid that would drive him away.

Maybe this whole time, I’d been thinking of him as a jerkass without actually acknowledging how hard he really blew me off for three fucking years. So what if I wanted to get closer to Giovanni? We were friends. And I liked him. Maybe that would go somewhere. Maybe it wouldn’t. And most importantly, he wanted to dance with me.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “We should.”

#selfship #i'm at soup!#and if it turns out any of my classmates IS reading this #i'll eat my personal fan

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