#i went with kinda a camping theme here

[stim-sies]

📰 Crutchy Stimboard for @starboystation 📰

🗞|🗞|📰|🗞|🗞|🗞|🗞|📰|🗞

[2tcs]

Danny’s Journal or A Countdown to the Beginning

Summary: A look into the year leading up to the accident from the perspective of a forgotten journal.

February 9, 2002

Dear journal. Mom and Dad said they had a surprise for me and Jazz when we get home from school. Please God don't let it be another ghost gun or something. My hair is still singed from the last one.

Update. It was, in fact, a gun. Jazz now has a mild burn on her arm and is screaming how they need therapy. Not disagreeing but I don't think it's going to happen.

February 12, 2002

Dear journal. Happy birthday. A year ago Jazz gave you to me for my birthday. How my parents haven't accidentally destroyed you I don't know.

Me Tucker, Sam, and Jazz went out to eat for my birthday. Sam even had her family driver take us a town over to try that new restaurant. Well, that's what their excuse was.  I think they were trying to get me out of the house for a little bit since Mom and Dad are going on a rampage through the house disassembling all the appliances. It's 10 pm and I can still hear noise coming from the basement.

March 26, 2002

I have the best idea for an April Fools prank. It involves chez whiz and glitter.

April 1, 2002

The prank worked like a charm. The jocks are going to smell like cheese for weeks. And they ain't ever getting the glitter out.

On the downside. Dash broke my arm and Mom and Dad put a “Fenton Anti-ghost Cast” on me. It kinda glows and makes my arm feel weird.

April 23, 2002

Sam’s birthday party was a glorious disaster this year. Her mom decided to do a princess-themed party. We have been preparing for this day since Sam found one of her mom’s work journals. We managed to sneak paint and glitter bombs into the venue before anyone got there. We even managed to get one on each of the chandeliers. It was awesome. Everyone got covered in black paint and red glitter. 

What we didn’t account for was Grandma Ida hiring professional snake handlers to bring in a bunch of snakes for Sam. The snakes were non-venomous and luckily were all caught after one of the rich people bumped into the table that the snake cage was on. And the paint was non-toxic so it was easy to clean off the snakes too without them getting sick. Still kinda feel bad that the snakes got caught in the crossfire though.

May 20, 2002

🎵Schools out for the summer!🎵 Lol this is going to be so exciting. Our last summer as middle schoolers. Nothing but the big leagues after this!

June 13, 2002

Dad wants to go camping for Father's Day so we're going to head out tomorrow morning. Think I heard them mention Lake Arrowhead. That'll be cool. Haven't fished there before.

June 15, 2002

I don't know how but we're in Gotham. Apparently, there's some stupid ghost conversation going on so we're going to be stuck here for the next week. On the pulse side though I found a really cool cafe not too far from the hotel. And they don’t seem to care if you just hang out as long as their not busy and you buy something. Me and Jazz will probably be spending a lot of time here or at their library. It’s huge and has an entire section of space!

June 16, 2002

Turns out I'm allergic to something called Blood Blossoms. Mom and Dad ended up having some guy try to cleanse me of “the evil spook” after I accidentally brushed up against the flowers he had on his table. Jazz had to convince them to get me to the hospital. Luckily one of the guys walking around had an epi pen. So that helped. Still sucks and now I'm stuck at the hotel while Jazz frets like a mother hen. I don't think she's even realized that she has a rash on her hand from when she threw the flowers away from me.

June 19, 2002

So… Batman is real… wtf? He apparently has some questions for Mom and Dad but they haven't come back yet. He apologized to me and Jazz for waking us up and gave us suckers? Which. Weird. And Jazz threw them away when he left because “stranger danger is still a thing even if they are a hero”. RIP little Root Beer flavored DumDum. You will be missed.

And on the other hand, Robin was pretty cool. He's snarky and brave and hilarious and he is just so cool. 10/10 New favorite Robin. He even gave me a book recommendation for the report I'm supposed to turn in at the start of freshman year.

June 22, 2002

We were supposed to leave Gotham today. We were supposed to finally head to one of the lakes on the way home to do some camping and fishing. We were supposed to have a relaxing time. So please journal. Can you tell me why the giant wannabe scaly just threw the GAV? Now we are going to be stuck in this stupid city for another week while Mom and Dad fix it.

June 24, 2002

I made a new friend! Do you remember that cafe I talked about a few days ago? Well, I met a guy there. His name is Jason. He’s an absolute lit nerd but is way cool. The guy’s got muscles underneath his school uniform too. The guy looks like he could snap me like a twig yet isn’t at all like Dash. Hopefully, we can keep in contact after we head back to Amity. For now, we are planning on meeting up at the cafe tomorrow with our favorite books. I found “Star Stories”at the library so I’m bringing it with me. I don’t know if he likes stars but I hope he likes some of the stories about them.

July 9, 2002

Finally back at home. Dad had smuggled fireworks into the GAV (how they didn’t explode when KC threw it in Gotham idk) so we spent the 4th of July shooting them off at the lake. We ended up going to Lake Erie for the camping trip because Mom heard something at the convention about a ghost hanging out around there. Didn’t see any ghosts but the fishing was good. I even caught a bass the size of my head! All around it was really fun! Oh and the stars were so clear! The Summer Triangle was so clear you could point out Vega, Deneb, and Altair! It was so cool! Did you know that Vega is in the Lyra constellation? Or Deneb is in the Cygnus Constellation. And Altair is a part of the Aquila constellation!

Maybe I should ask if Mom and Dad could get me another journal for charting the stars. I’ll need the practice if I want to become an astronaut.

July 29, 2002

It’s a good thing that I got two of everything when me, Sam, and Tucker went shopping for school supplies. I got a lot of new space-themed stuff but the moment I got home Dad insisted on ghost-proofing my new backpack… It melted. I don’t even know how he managed to melt a canvas bag. It didn’t even catch fire first. Just started melting the moment Dad started spraying his new “Fenten Ecto-Rejecto Spray” on it. Wtf Dad.

On the plus side, Sam found a new coffin backpack and Tucker was able to get a new bag that had a pouch that he can put the walkman he got yesterday for his birthday. He is so hyped about it. 

August 6, 2002

School starts next week and I am so hyped. Finally going to be a high schooler. Cool Kids Club here we go!

August 15, 2002

Kill me now. May the Gods strike me down and end my suffering. May the Faits find me lacking and cut my string. May the Crone tear me from the tapestry, the mother rejects my thread from the loom and the maiden take the wool of my youth and set it aside.

Sam has just informed me that that isn’t quite what the Mother, Maiden, and Crone do but whatever. Just know that everything sucks because apparently someone called the house phone and told Mom and Dad that there was a ghost in the school. The A-listers are blaming me for ruining their high school debut.

August 30, 2002

Mom and Dad have started making more noise in the lab than normal. It’s gotten to the point that Jazz has been spending more time at the library to study. Speaking of Jazz, she has been obsessing over self-help and psychology books lately. I mean. Jazz has always talked up therapy but now she’s kinda getting snooty about it. Sam suggested we start hanging out at that gazebo thingy at the park so we can get our work done on the nicer days. We’ll have to hang at Tucker's place though on the rainy days. Sam’s parents have decided that it’s time to put their foot down and get Sam to “socialize with your actual peers Sammy-kins so that you can make better connections and start networking” or whatever. So basically Sam’s mom doesn’t want her to be associated with us plebs I guess.

September 8, 2002

Mom and Dad repurposed the fridge so they could put samples in it. Apparently, the one in the lab broke. The green stuff in the tubes kinda creeps me out. Jazz is yelling at them about it. I kinda agree. Cross-contamination anyone? Think I’m gonna eat out at Nasty more often.

September 28, 2002

Either I’m going crazy or the leftover chicken and noodle soup in the fridge was moving. Like the noodles were wiggling around like worms or something. Jazz ordered pizza.

October 5, 2002

There are new wires in the house now and they glow? Mom said that they had some sort of breakthrough and are using the samples that they have to coat some of the tech in the house to “ecto-proof” it. Apparently, the ectoplasm doesn’t like electronics so they weren’t really able to mix it with tech too well. Some of Mom’s blueprints look like Star Wars blasters. Dad’s are less impressive.

October 29, 2002

Mom and Dad have locked me and Jazz in our rooms because of the “Ghost Menaces”. Me and Jazz have both taped warning signs on our windows so some brave trick-or-treaters don’t accidentally get hurt.

November 1, 2002

The signs worked but I saw Mom and Dad taking off in the GAV around midnight. Whatever. Me and Tucker did manage to reach a new level in DOOM last night so that was cool. And it’s World Vegan Day today so Sam is going to take us out to eat at a vegan place for dinner. I have no clue what Tucker’s going to eat. Well probably get it to-go so he can get something.

I found out where Mom and Dad went last night. The cops showed up and gave Mom and Dad a ticket for destroying a part of the park's water fixture. Someone had organised a haunted forest thing in the park and my parents went absolute ape.

November 2, 2002

Who told Mom and Dad about Dia de Los Muertos? Or that there was a little remembrance celebration/party thing going on today because of it? I’ve decided to make deviled eggs in protest of their chaos and have also bought candy skulls to eat.

November 18, 2002

Apparently, there is an Occult Day(?) and Sam insists we spend the day researching cults. Tucker has found a tech cult online that says there is “Techno Magic” and he is now trying to learn it. Sam has found a book of curses and has been giggling since she found it. Sam giggling is terrifying. I am concerned.

November 28, 2002

The turkey came to life and attacked us. Mom and Dad are blaming ghosts but me and Jazz agree that this is totally their fault for putting the stupid ecto in the fridge. At least the rest of the food was edible. I mean. It had a kinda glowing but I haven’t gotten sick yet. So yay?

November 29, 2002

So the food wasn’t good and I ended up getting sick this morning. fml Jazz is mad that I ate some of it. I am fully aware of what food safety is Jazz. But I was hungry and after the turkey, I was just tired and hangry. I had no clue you had ordered pizza so :p

December 5, 2002

On the 5th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me! Nothing because my family is insane. Mom and Dad are already starting their yearly Santa argument. Sam and Tuck are both out of town to visit family for the holidays, Jazz is avoiding the house because it’s “disruptive to my mental development” and I’m grounded for yelling at Dad when he burst into my room and accidentally made my little Rover fall off the shelf and brake.

December 9, 2002

Mom and Dad’s insanity is ramping up. They almost never leave the lab now and whenever I try to bring food down to them they either just mumble and keep working or start arguing again. The whole in the wall has a frame now too.

December 24, 2002

I made a mistake when I brought Mom and Dad their dinner today. In my defense, I was just tired of them yelling about Santa. So I asked why they had hazmat suits but me and Jazz didn’t if ecto was so dangerous. Because if it’s that dangerous then the fact we have ecto in the fridge means that we should all have suits. Jazz is furious with me cause now our parents are making us try on our new suits tomorrow. I am terrified of whatever monstrosity they create no matter how “fashionable” Dad claims they will be.

December 25, 2002

It’s worse than I thought. Mine’s white.

January 15, 2003

Gods, I hate this. I’ve been sick for the past week and Jazz says we’re almost out of soup. I keep going back and forth between being hungry and puking up whatever Jazz feeds me. Mom says that she has some tea that may help but when Dad brought it up it tasted funny. It did make me feel a little better but it just had a really weird taste. Dad said it’s just because I’m sick so everything tastes funny right now.

January 19, 2003

Is it weird that I want to lick the ecto in the fridge? I’m pretty sure it is but it still kinda looks lickable to me. Like how you know that D batteries are not edible but almost everyone has licked one at some point?

Jazz just gave me a lecture about putting things in my mouth that I shouldn’t… Again…

January 27, 2003

Jazz scared me this morning. I walked into the kitchen this morning and just saw glowing eyes. Like a cat’s eyes in the dark. Jazz thinks I’m hallucinating from lack of sleep because of the all-nighter I pulled with Tuck trying to pass the next level on DOOM but I swear that her eyes were glowing.

February 9, 2003

I’m starting to worry. I know they're obsessed with their dumb portal but they haven’t eaten in 2 days. Jazz is planning on going down there and persuading (yelling at them) them to eat if they don’t come up for dinner tonight.

February 12, 2003

Happy Birthday to me. I am now 14 years old. Mom and Dad forgot it was my birthday again. They ran into the kitchen this morning because they completed their portal. They even dragged me and Jazz down into the lab to see them turn it on before we went to school. It didn’t work and now Mom and Dad are going to take a drive around town to clear their heads. They probably won’t be back until dinner time. Sam and Tucker are coming over after school though so at least it will be quiet while they are over. And I think Jazz is going to make a cake if the box of mix I saw her trying to hide from me yesterday is any indication. 

[loveharlow]

SEVEN - 008

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[12.2k] based on 1x09 and 1x10.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, extreme violence, mentions of child abuse, mentions/graphic depictions of rape/non-con, mild themes of ptsd, mentions of/allusions to death, general angst

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ and here is the season one finale of SEVEN :(, kinda sad but excited for season two. this is a long one so grab your takis 'cause this shit's gon be goooood (UDY reference, am i old?)

also this is not spell-checked :(

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

AFTER FLEEING FROM THE AIRSTRIP,  the four of you found temporary shelter in a junk lot some miles away. You camped there, for what had to be, at least an hour before you watched an unmistakable plane fly overhead.

“And there goes the gold.” JJ said disappointedly, throwing his arms out to the side. “Shit!” He yelled, kicking an already busted up lawn chair.

“Fuck!” Pope hollered, throwing hat so far that it clattered loudly against something out of sight. “God damn it!” He continued raving, picking up an old baseball and swinging at every object within his line of vision. The three of you stood back in shock, never seeing such a display of emotion from the boy.

At least not one this aggressive. He continued breaking and smashing and shattering before deciding to ditch the bat in favor of lifting a large tin trash can, throwing across the concrete. 

“Pope!” Kiara called out, flinching. The boy just paced, hyperventilating before collapsing against a worn down bench. He had a look of distress on his face before bursting out into tears. 

“I was wondering when this was gonna happen.” JJ spoke lowly, walking towards his friend while Kie looked aimlessly around at the even bigger mess he’d made of the junkyard. The blonde held out a weed pen in the curly-haired boy’s direction, shrugging a single shoulder. “A little weed never hurt anyone.”

“JJ.” Kiara reprimanded. “You know he doesn’t smoke.” Pope looked to the two and then to you, eyes asking for advice. You simply shrugged as if to say why not, watching him snatch the pen from JJ’s fingers. 

“Well, maybe not until today.” The blonde taunted as Pope fiddled with the device, eyeing it for a few moments.

“What is that gonna help?” Kie criticized as he contemplated.

“...I lost my scholarship. Walked out in the middle of the interview. It’s gone, it’s not gonna happen.” He told you three sadly. 

“You did that for us?” Kiara asked him, face falling.

“No. Not for us.” He corrected, standing from his seat as you replaced his absence next to JJ, leaning your head on his shoulder. “For nothing.”

“Pope-”

“Just let it go, Kie.” You sighed, the girl turning to you. You hadn’t spoken much since you heard the gunshot in the woods, concerned for John B’s well-being and heartbroken about the gold, and everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours. “He’s right. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

The air around you all went silent, Pope taking a hit of the pen as Kiara silently judged him. You and JJ sat in silence, a comfort shared between the two of you, taking the feeling where you could get it. That was until you heard slow footsteps behind you, heads shooting up to find John B coming around the corner.

You launched yourself out of your seat, running into the boy and dragging him into a hug he didn’t return, the other three following suit. Releasing him, you all took immediate notice of the crimson color decorating his shirt and hands. 

It looked half-dried, taking on a color resembling rust or dried tomatoes. It completely coated his hands, even the webs between his fingers.

“...Whose blood is that?” 

“JOHN B, WHAT ARE WE DOING AT THE POLICE STATION?” JJ asked as Kiara pulled up next to the Kildare County Sheriff’s Station. It was night time now and the sun had set hours ago. John B had wasted sunlight explaining to the four of you what went down on the tarmac. According to your friend, Rafe had shot and killed Sheriff Peterkin while she was in the middle of arresting Ward Cameron.

“Somebody has to tell them what happened.” The boy in question replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, right before Pope broke out into a coughing fit, perfectly rolled joint still clutched between his fingers. He hadn't let up on the weed since taking his first hit at the junkyard.

“Easy there, Chief.” JJ advised from his place next to you in the trunk of the car, John B and Pope in the back seat while Kiara drove. Then the blonde’s attention was on John B. “I’m just gonna be real with you, right now. You might end up in the lion’s den, but you don’t go there on purpose. You should never trust cops, no matter the circumstance.”

“He’s right, John B.” You pitched in. “You gave the compass to Peterkin and somehow it ended up with Ward. Who knows how many dirty cops are littering that station right now.”

“I agree.” Pope added in. “Fuck the police.”

“You’re going to the dark side now?” Kiara judged.

“When’s the last time the police helped us?” Pope argued back, leaning forward.

“Peterkin looked out for me, alright?” John B finally spoke out after moments of silence, looking at all of you with pleading eyes. “Tried to, at least. They need to know.” He declared before giving you all one last parting look and leaving the car to go into the station and tell the precinct that the Sheriff was dead. And that Rafe Cameron had killed her.

“...How did we get here, you guys?” Kiara spoke, looking at no one in particular. She sounded sad and far away, hands clutching the steering wheel.

“Greed?” You offered, shrugging your shoulders. “A part of me regrets not leaving this alone the moment we found out the boat was Scooter’s and that he was dead. But once we found that compass, there was no stopping.”

“Well, I don’t regret any of it.” JJ piped up, leaning over the backseat, over Pope’s shoulder. “What’s this pity party y’all are throwin’? We found the fucking gold.” He laughed out triumphantly. “And yeah we got screwed but we’re gonna get it back.”

The three of you pondered on his words, more like the two of you considering Pope was getting higher than the Empire State Building. Maybe JJ had a point. But you couldn’t think too much longer when John B came barrelling back into the vehicle. 

“Kie! Start the car!” 

“What did you do?” She asked, fear written all across her face as she switched gears, two officers coming up on the vehicle and attempting to open John B’s door. 

“Kie, just drive!” He commanded, the car speeding down the dirt path. 

One of the deputy’s refused to admit defeat, running along the car with her hand still on the handle. “Pull over!” She shouted through the window, banging her free palm against the glass.

“Open it!” Pope ordered from John B’s side. JB looked side to side in confusion before doing as the intoxicated boy said, opening the door and effectively sending the deputy tumbling on her feet and leaving her behind as Kiara kept driving. 

“What the hell was that?” You asked incredulously, looking out the back windshield as the two officers disappeared out of sight. But the boy didn’t answer, just looked straight ahead with his lips slightly parted. You reached over the seat, shaking his shoulder. “Hey, John B, what the hell was that?”

“...They think I killed Peterkin.” 

IT WAS MORNING NOW AND THE FIVE OF YOU HAD BEEN RUNNING FROM THE COPS ALL NIGHT. There was nowhere for John B to go. The Chateau was no doubt flooded with cops, JJ’s house was just as unsafe, Pope’s parents were mad enough at their son as is, Kiara’s parents would shun him at the door, and you weren’t even sure if your home was your home anymore. 

You all were camped out in Kiara’s car on the side of a windy road, camouflaged by the plethora of trees. The Kildare County AM Radio Show playing as you all sat in exhausted silence, seats reclined in uncomfortable positions as you all attempted to get some rest and hide from passing cars. 

“...And good news for the residents of the Outer Banks. Dominion Power says their underwater transmission line, which will restore power to ninety-percent of the city, should be functional within the next twenty-four hours.”

The host exclaimed as you and JJ nearly jumped when police sirens were heard over the station, two police cars zooming down the road and right past the car you were all hiding in. You let out a breath of relief, letting yourself fall back into the seat. 

“..And still no arrest in the shooting death of Sheriff Susan Peterkin. The state police have issued a statement regarding a local person of interest, a juvenile from-” The rest of whatever the radio host was going to say was cut off when Kiara turned the radio off entirely. 

“...So, Yucatan it is?” JJ started the conversation.

“Enough with the Mexico bullshit.” John B cringed, rolling his eyes.

“I’m just being realistic here. Who are the cops going to believe? Lord Cameron or us?” He spat out, irritated.

“Sarah will bail me out, okay? She’ll come through.” 

“She did witness everything…” Kiara supported the brunette’s ideology. You just scoffed, yawning and rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes.

“If you two believe that Sarah will turn her dad or brother over to the cops, you are beyond delusional.” You threw out.

“Thank you.” Pope agreed. 

“We gotta get you off the island.” JJ spoke his mind, sparking up a blunt and shifting to lean on his shoulder.

“The ferry’s his only option.” Pope informed. 

“That's do-able, right? Dude, you gotta dip before the entire island’s on lockdown.” JJ told his best friend as you all ducked once more as three more police cars sped by, only rising slowly once the sound of sirens was gone.

“Look, Sarah’s not a Pogue, JB.” You offered the boy a reality check. “She’s not one of us and you can’t rely on her to save you. You gotta think about you.”

“SO, BAD NEWS.” Pope threw his hands out, looking around nervously while also trying to act normal as he walked back to the car. You all were parked at The Ferry dock with John B reclined fully inside the car to remain out of sight. “The Ferry’s closed and there’s this…” He spoke through the rolled down window from outside of the car, passing a paper inside for the rest of us to see.

“...Shit.” Kiara cursed, passing the paper back for the remaining three of you to see. JJ took it as you leaned over his shoulder, you being the only one in the trunk now since Pope took over driving and JJ moved to sit next to JB. 

“Twenty-five thousand?!” You exclaimed, eyes wide as you read the ‘WANTED’ poster for John B. His picture and all listed on the sheet. JJ was quick to turn around a throw a palm over your mouth, instructing you to ‘shh’ before slowly removing the hand. “Sorry. But twenty-five thousand dollars on your head?” You directed at JB.

“Congrats, Bree. You’re famous.” JJ said sarcastically, annoyance seeping through his voice.

“So, the whole island’s looking for John B.” Pope sighed, drawing his lips into a thin line, getting into the driver's seat.

“Guys, we can get to the HMS Pogue. It’s small, no running lights-” Kiara started before JB cut her off, little emotion left in him.

“It’s at The Chateau, Kie.” He sighed, looking up at the ceiling of the vehicle. “The cops are probably staked out at every corner.” 

“JJ.” Pope perked up, almost giving himself whiplash as he turned around to face the blonde in the backseat. “Does your dad still have that boat? The cigarette boat, The Phantom. The one he used to race.”

“Maybe.” The boy in question replied simply, face void of any emotion. 

“Okay, then. We could get it up to the coast, no problem.” Pope said, turning back around and putting his hands on the wheel.

“It won’t be easy, Pope.” JJ advised. “I don’t even know where the keys are.”

“Well, find them.” The curly-haired boy spat out, jittering in the driver’s seat. “Why is nobody moving forward?” He motioned for the line of cars in front of him.

“Should he be driving?...” You threw the question out, noting his behavior and the amount of weed he’d consumed in the last couple of hours. “Pope, buddy, I don’t think you should be driving.”

“Kie.” John B craned his neck to look at the girl in the passenger seat. “Your car is on the poster.” Nobody could say anything before Pope started rapidly honking the horn.

“Hellooo? Can we move it?” He urged. “Come on!”

“Pope!” Kie tried to grab the male’s attention. “Don’t honk the horn! Jesus…”

“Mom, look! It’s that guy! Right there!” Some blonde little shit standing in the grass pointed at the car you were all hiding in, his squeaky voice traveling through the rolled down window. “We get twenty-five thousand if we find him!”

The kids excitement started to draw other civilians attention, the car soon surrounded by curious eyes. One man had the nerve to bang against one of the back windows, smiling as he pointed at John B’s flattened figure inside of the car. You banged back on the glass, startling the middle aged man before yelling at him to ‘back the fuck up’.

“We gotta go. Pope, turn the car on.” Kiara demanded. “Pope, turn the fucking car on!”

“I’m trying!” He protested, fighting with the ignition key. When he finally succeeded, the car flew forward, hitting the back bumper of the car in front of you all. You all shouted at the boy to back up but he just continued driving forward, pushing the car in front of him before swerving to the side and into the grass.

He managed to drive away from the scene and onto the main road, not getting far before he was swerving back into the grass, sending a mailbox flying into the air in pieces. The four of you gripped onto the seats and safety handles for dear life as Pope cheered in the driver’s seat.

“I am livin’ my best life right now!” He hollered with the biggest smile of his face, right before he hit another mailbox, the impact sending you all forward, your forehead coming into hard contact with the back of JJ’s head.

“Ow! Dammit! Pope, pull over!” You screeched from the back seat. He did as you said, bringing the SUV to a complete stop, making the car jerk. Kiara turned in the passenger seat to look at John B.

“You, get out.”

“What?” He looked bewildered at the suggestion.

“We’ll draw the cops while you run. Get out!” She commanded, John B turning to JJ as the blonde spoke quickly.

“I’ll get the boat and we’ll meet in the dump tomorrow, okay? Three o’clock.” 

“Yeah.” John B confirmed, nodding as he barrel-rolled out of the car, running through the field and into the woods.

“Three tomorrow at the dump!” 

“YOU SURE THIS IS A GOOD IDEA?” JJ piped up, getting out of the car with Pope as you and Kiara followed suit, the SUV that was parked on the side of Tannyhill, just out of sight. Kie had taken the wheel back after it was clear Pope was far too impaired to drive. It was nighttime once again, the chaos causing the hours to tick by.

“She’s the only one who can clear John B.” The brown-haired girl told him simply, getting ready to climb the fence with you next to her, flashlight in her hand with yours clutched between your teeth. “I have a plan.” She muttered, you all landing in the grass and marching through the yard.

“I can do a plan. Plan, plan. Can totally do a plan.” Pope spoke nonsense, the smile never leaving his face as Kiara turned around to face him, irritated and annoyed.

“Can you handle a plan, right now?’ She criticized.

“Of course.” Pope brushed off, dismissing the girl's concerns. “I’m Mister Plan-o-matic.” He assured before breaking out into a rap, a terribly bad, off-beat, and loud rap. You couldn’t contain your laughter, almost snorting at the random action before Kie shot you a look, wiping the smile off of your face as you tried to hold in the laughter.

“I’m sorry. It’s not funny.” You lied, turning to Pope. “Pope.” You whisper-shouted in his direction. “Let’s…save the freestyle for later.” You suggested, a small smile on your face as he quieted down.

“This is a quiet plan.” She talked to him like a baby while you and JJ stood off to the side, watching as she put her pointer finger against his lips. “Okay?” She asked, receiving an absentminded nod from the male in response to which she retracted her finger slowly.

“...I love you, Kie.” Pope said when the girl moved her hand, both you and JJ’s jaw dropping simultaneously.

“What?” Was all the girl offered in response, sighing. Ouch.

“I’m in love with you.” The intoxicated boy clarified, JJ scratching his head and turning away while you stared at the flowers and trees like they were the most interesting things in the world.

“You’re… wasted.” She dismissed his confession, disgust written all over her face as she turned around with the intention to keep walking before Pope pulled her back gently by the wrist.

“I know I’m wasted and that’s why I’m saying this now.” He tried again. “I really feel like this. I love you. I’ve been meaning to tell you-”

“Are we seriously doing this right now?” She cut him off angrily.  Pope look stunned, hurt.

“...I’m trying to tell you how I feel-”

“And that’s very sweet, but it’s not gonna happen.” She stated softly but firmly. In his incapacitated state, he took the rejection lightly, a small smile edging it’s way on his face as he scoffed.

“Okay, well, why not?” He asked. “Is it the no pogue-on-pogue macking rule? Because it doesn’t make sense and no one follows it–”

“Look, I want something different.” She blurted, throwing her shoulders up. “I wanna go to Anarctica, I want to ride camels-”

“And I want to do those things with you-”

“No, Pope, it’s not gonna work!” She told the boy, louder than intended as she looked around before looking at him. “It’s not gonna happen...” She said, finality in her voice as Pope’s face fully fell this time, the rejection settling in. Even from your place, several feet away, you could see the tears welling in the boy’s eyes.

“...We should probably get on with the plan now.” You broke up the interaction, figuring someone should step in and lead the group back on the right track. They both agreed, being the first two to walk off, leaving you and JJ stranded in silence.

“I had no idea he felt that way about her.” You said shocked, blinking rapidly. “I mean, I had a hunch but, man.”

“Girls never know when guys like them.” The blonde said from beside you, your face twisting. “Poor Pope.”

“That is so not true.” You disputed as you both started walking after the other two. “Guys are the most oblivious creatures ever.” You told him,

“You're literally a walking demonstration.” JJ threw out humorously, an immediate look of regret on his face.

“What does that mean?” You asked, looking at the boy curiously.

“Nothing. Forget it.” He waved you off, you both bickering quietly as you walked further into the yard.

Catching up to Kiara and Pope, the girl in question explained that JJ and Pope would create a distraction down in the yard so you and her could sneak up to Sarah’s window. 

So, you were walking around the house you hadn’t visited in months while JJ and Pope were left behind, hopefully concocting a good enough plan to distract whoever else might be in the house.

“Hey,” Kiara whispered, pausing in front of you. “Do you think I was too harsh back there? With Pope?” 

“Honestly?” You started, moving your mouth around before you spoke. “Kind of. It’s okay if you don’t feel that way about him and I get your frustration with everything going but rejection hurts. No matter which way you say it. And he’s high, so it probably hurt a little more.” was your honest truth for the girl.

She simply nodded, looking down before the two of you quietly climbed the balcony stairs up to Sarah’s window. You both crouched out of sight in front of the window, the curtains drawn open allowing you to see the blonde girl’s reflection in her mirror.

Her room looked just the same as it did all those months ago. You didn't expect much to change, it was just an odd observation, you guessed.

Kiara knocked on the glass lightly, just enough to gain Sarah’s attention, the girl approaching the window with a smile before trying to open it and failing. The window wouldn’t budge, even when Kiara tried to help from the opposite side.

The curly-haired girl simply sighed before deciding to pull the wanted poster from her pocket, holding it up for Sarah to read. “Were you in on it?” Kiara asked, their voices still able to travel through the glass, slightly muffled.

“Did you think I was?” Sarah asked, tucking her hair behind her ears. Kie contemplated, shrugging as if to say ‘I don’t know’ before ultimately settling on her answer.

“No.” Then Sarah’s pitiful eyes were turning to you, eyes you tried desperately to avoid. She called your name, drawing your attention.

“...I’m sorry.” Was the first thing she said, her eyes filling with tears. “I believe you. About Rafe. I didn’t think he could do something like that and I was just protecting my brother. But he…he’s worse than I thought. I wasn’t a good friend to you then. But I’ll be a better one now.” She smiled smally.

You didn’t realize there were tears in your own eyes until one traveled down each cheek. You quickly wiped the evidence away before attempting to shrug nonchalantly. “...Thanks, I guess.” You mumbled, looking up at the girl through your lashes, smiles breaking out on both of your faces as Kie looked between you both with a motherly pout.

The moment was ruined when Ward’s voice boomed from inside the house, calling out for Sarah. The girl inside jumped, whispering for the both of you to go. The two of you did as she said, fleeing the back yard as fast as you could, trying not to trip down the balcony steps. 

You both bolted through the backyard, making note of the smoke coming from the grill on the patio before hopping over the fence and heading straight for Kie’s car where Pope and JJ were already camped out and waiting. Jumping in, Kiara started the vehicle and sped off, hiding between the streets of Figure Eight. 

“Did you idiots set the grill on fire?” Kiara asked as she drove down the dark streets, you and her up front while JJ and Pope rode in the back.

“No,” Pope drug out. “It was a pillow that I set on fire on top of the grill. I think I singed my hairline…”

The girl couldn’t help but sigh, turning onto a fairly empty street. You just stared ahead out of the windshield, remaining silent. “What’s wrong?” Kiara questioned you, looking between the side of your face and the road.

“Nothing, it’s just…I didn’t expect her to apologize.” You muttered, looking at your fingers while you played with your nails. You never thought you'd feel anything but hate for Sarah after what happened. But after all, you were a teenage girl — maybe all you ever wanted was a real apology.

“I thought you guys made up on the boat…” Pope slurred sadly, disappointed that his plan hadn’t actually worked.

“Okay, now that we’re like part-time fugitives and our futures are on the line, I feel like we should throw everything out into the open here, full transparency. Kie already told us why she hated her guts.” JJ suggested from the backseat, behind Kie. You looked back at him as he spoke. “What happened between you two?”

You looked to Kiara for confirmation, confused on when she gave the guys the scoop on her ‘Sarah situation’. She just shrugged. “I told them a couple days after they left us on the boat. Figured it was over with so, why not.”

You let out a hum, taking a deep breath before turning back to JJ. “When I first moved to Figure Eight, I was going through a lot. It was right after my dad’s death, I was moving away from the only home I ever knew, and I didn’t fit in with the Kook kids. Kiara was my only friend on Figure Eight and she took me under her wing, even though I didn’t fully expect her to because she was in her own Kook bubble and hadn’t talked to us for weeks at that point.” You explained, leaning on the center console.

“Falling in with that crowd was the worst thing that could’ve happened to me. Late night house parties, drunk driving, just… stupid rich kid shit. But Sarah, Kie, and I were like a trio of our own. Sarah had us over at Tannyhill almost every weekend, that's why we weren’t hanging out with you guys as much…One night, when we’re staying at Sarah’s, I was having trouble sleeping because of my nightmares, I had been for weeks at that point. Months. So, while Kie and Sarah were asleep, I went downstairs to get some water, clear my mind. But I wasn’t the only one awake. I ran into Rafe in the kitchen…”

The car was quiet, the only sound being the tires against the road and the wind whipping by considering the windows were halfway rolled down. “He was surprisingly…caring. Asked why I was awake, if I was okay, and offered to talk. He let me vent and cry to him for hours, something I thought I’d never do in a million years. And I think I just got caught in the comfort of it all and I kissed him. I pulled away right after and apologized but he said it was fine…and then he kissed me again. I knew it wrong and I’m sure he did, too. Not only was he the brother of one of my best friends but I was fifteen and he had just graduated. But that didn’t stop him from leading me up to his room and locking the door.”

“...You slept with Rafe?” JJ asked, hurt. 

“For months.” You replied honestly and shamefully. “I never meant for it to go that far. I had no feelings for him and I made that clear. He was a coke head, a general asshole, and just not the kind of guy I would ever want a serious relationship with. We’d just sneak around and hook up. No strings attached, was what I told him. But I guess he still felt like he had some kind of… claim over me.” You explained. “The three of us were at some house party one night and Rafe showed up with Topper and Kelce. I was flirting with some guy and Rafe just got angry, stomped over to me and yanked me by the arm all the way out of the front door and into his truck.”

Your voice started to shake, no longer able to maintain eye contact with JJ. “He just started yelling, calling me all types of names and when I tried to get out of the car he grabbed me by the neck and basically flung me into the backseat. He rap-mmph...” You cringed at your own words, not able to say what you wanted. The idea of the word leaving your lips made your stomach turn. “...He took advantage of me that night, right in front of the house,even drove me home after like nothing happened, like I wasn’t shaking and crying in the passenger seat, watching the blood leak from between my thighs. That was the last time I had seen him, up until the golf course. I told Sarah the next day, that following morning. I felt like I should, I mean it was her brother but she was my friend on top of that. But she didn't believe me. She called me a liar, told me he would never go that far and that she knew I’d been sneaking around with him and that I was trying to turn the situation into something it wasn't. Next thing I know, Rafe is making me out to be the island slut and Sarah is right behind him, laughing at the rumors.”

“Why didn't you tell us?” Pope broke the silence, sounding like he was on the verge of tears himself.

“If his own sister didn't believe me, I didn't think any of you would either. I didn't want to keep reliving it by telling you guys. I just wanted to forget any of it ever happened.”

“I’m gonna kill him.” JJ shook his head angrily, looking out the window as he bit his lip, his right hand curled into a fist. “This is what I mean. Kooks get away with whatever the fuck they want-”

“JJ, it happened months ago-”

“So what?” He shot back, turning to you with tears in his waterline. “I don't care how long ago it was. You didn't deserve that. He raped you, he hurt you and he gets to walk around like nothing happened. How are you okay with that?”

“I’m not okay with it.” You told him firmly, voice watery and upset. “I will never be okay with it, JJ. But that’s just the way it is. I can't do anything to change it now. Believe me, I wish I could do more but I can’t. None of us can.” The car fell silent, JJ shaking his head and looking out of the window angrily. You pondered on what you said, wondering if you should've said anything at all until a pressing thought entered your mind. “Kie! Stop the car,” You commanded, the SUV screeching to a halt as she looked at you. “I need to make pit stop. And no, it can’t wait.”

“HERE. I HOPE IT’S COOL ENOUGH TO DRINK.” You handed the blonde mug of hot chocolate, the two of you sitting at a table in The Wreck, blankets draped over your shoulders with the sound of Kie and Pope’s snoring filling the silence. You’d drove around Figure Eight, police at every corner until the four of you decided to call it quits and camp out somewhere safe. 

Well, not before you snuck back into your house and retrieved Marley, the dog taking up space in the backseat between the two boys, never giving JJ a break as she practically curled up in his lap the whole ride to The Wreck.

Surprisingly, The Wreck was the safest place at the moment. The sky was dark, the stars still visible through the plethora of windows that littered the small restaurant.

“I think you need it more than me.” He said, sliding the drink he’d requested over to you. You shook your head, pushing the mug back in his direction.

“Don’t do that.” You said exhaustedly. “Don’t start treating me differently because you know what happened. That’s the worst thing you could do.”

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“You can look out for me by drinking that hot chocolate that I burned myself making.” You smiled tiredly, the blonde returning the gesture and taking the ceramic object between both hands, sipping slowly.

“Can I ask you somethin’ though?” He asked your permission, looking up at him through your lashes with tired eyes. You nodded, prompting him to continue. “I’m still lost on how you know Barry. I was gonna ask in the car but the conversation took a left…”

You sighed, hand coming up to palm the back of neck as you tugged the blanket closer to you, licking your lips. “Sometimes, when I’d ride around with Rafe, he would take me with him to buy coke. I don’t know why, he just would. I went into the trailer with him once, too hot to sit in the car. I guess Barry took one look at me and the bags under my eyes and wanted to reel himself in a new client. He offered me some pills. Something he’d made himself, a mix of Ambien and Xanax, said it’d help me sleep and so, I took it. Who knows if it was even safe…” You explained shamefully, shifting in your seat and looking back to make sure Kiara and Pope were still fast asleep.

“...I never had enough of my own money to keep buying it, so Rafe would buy it for me. That’s why Barry called me that stupid nickname, it’s what he would write down in his books. It got to a point where I felt like I needed the pills to even just take a nap when I wanted to or when I just wanted to feel good. It made me have less nightmares, feel less anxious throughout the day. But when I cut off Rafe, the drugs went with him. I walked around high for half of the summer and no one ever noticed.”

“...I can’t imagine that.”

“Neither can I, looking back on it. It’s not something I’m proud of but I’m better now.”

“You didn’t have to go through all of that alone. You could have come to us.” You just scoffed, leaning on the table as he traced the rim of his coffee mug.

“I didn’t even think you guys wanted to talk to me. Me and Kiara basically blew you guys for months for some Kooks who kicked us to the dirt.”

“And we took you back in when you came back. You’re a pogue. We’ll always be here, at least I will.” He chuckled, sipping more of his beverage.

“And I love you for that. Honestly.” The blonde’s blue eyes went wide at the beginning of your statement, as if he was about to spit out his drink until it calmed as you went on. You pondered on his initial reaction before deciding to let it go.

“...And I’m sorry. For not noticing. Someone should have. One of us should have, we’re your friends.”

“Don’t be sorry. It was my mistake, not yours.” You refuted his condolences, waving your hand dismissively. “Besides, our problems have gotten a lot bigger.”

“Who are you tellin’?” He chuckled under his breath, the two of your sharing a fit of sleepy laughter.

“...and J?” You perked up, laughing dying in your throat. He hummed in response. “If you could keep this between us… The Barry thing-”

“Don’t worry about it.” He interrupted you reassuringly, mimicking a zipper on his lips. “My lips are sealed. I promise you.” You simply nodded with a small smile on your lips as you curled up in the dining chair, cocooning yourself in the blanket. You felt a tingling sensation in your stomach before you drifted off that you couldn’t quite place.

“AND THE MANHUNT FOR EIGHTEEN YEAR OLD JOHN BOOKER ROUTLEDGE CONTINUES after he allegedly shot and killed Sheriff Susan Peterkin on a private airstrip after a heated altercation. There have been multiple reported sightings of the boy in the Figure Eight area…” The news played from the small radio box as you all scattered around The Wreck, the sun casting an orange hue over the restaurant.

It was early the next morning and still no word from John B. You hoped he was okay and would still be able to follow through with the plan.  You’d woken up on a bench inside of the restaurant, laid down and tucked in with pillow under your head. You couldn’t quite remember if you’d done that yourself.

“Is that gonna be enough food for them?” Kiara asked, grabbing edible items from the cabinets inside The Wreck as you and JJ bagged them.

“I mean, for a couple weeks that’s all they need, so…” JJ replied, eyeing the items inside of the paper bag.

“...I think I actually hurt his feelings.” She spoke despondently, referring to Pope. You and JJ grabbed the two wooden crates full of snacks and ready-to-eat meals and followed the girl through the back of the restaurant.

“Maybe he was too high to remember what happened.” You threw out, watching your step as to not fall with the large bin obstructing your view.

“I hate to admit it but I miss the old Pope. At least I knew what to expect from him-” She was cut off when Mrs. Carrera stormed towards her daughter, you and JJ stacking the crates into the trunk of the SUV.

“Where have you been?” The older woman demanded to know, throwing her arms out for them to land on her hips.

“I’m..fine. I slept here.” Kiara replied, perplexed as to what her mother’s issue could’ve been.

“Well, we were up half the night scared to death, lookin’ for you.” She told her child before looking past her and at you. “And your mother has been looking for you for days. When’s the last time you been home?” You simply didn’t reply, not wanting to disrespect Mrs. Carrera with the anger that surged at the mention of your mother. “Were you even gonna tell us where you were?”

“I’m telling you right now.” Kiara said simply, tucking her waves behind her ear.

“What the hell are you three up to?” She looked between the trio of you as you and JJ stood on either side of Kiara after loading the groceries into the trunk.

“Sorry, Miss Anna, but we have to go.” You told the older woman sadly. "Also, could you feed my dog? She's inside..." You requested sheepishly.

“Sorry…” Kie muttered, walking forward as you and JJ got into the car.

“No, absolutely not.” Mrs. Carrera blocked Kie’s path. “Have you heard what’s going on? Have you seen the storm that coming? This is not safe, Kiara!” She told her daughter as if she was crazy. 

“Mom, I’m sorry, I have to go…” Kie’s voice wavered as she lowered herself into the driver’s seat next to you with JJ in the back.

“These cops are armed, Kiara. They will shoot you, I am not letting you do this!”

“Mom, John B needs me!” She shouted, pointing at herself and shutting the door. “I understand, I’ll be careful!” She continued through the glass. Her mom never stopped, begging for her daughter to get out of the car and go with the safer option. Kie just apologized over and over, switching gears and driving away.

THE SUV PULLED TO A STOP IN FRONT OF THE MAYBANK RESIDENCE. You turned around to face JJ from your place in the passenger seat.

“Home sweet home.” He proclaimed sadly, his eyes teary and face red. You couldn’t help but pout, watching as he pushed the car door open and got out. Seconds later, you followed suit — unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out. “What’re you doin’?” The blonde questioned you as you dusted yourself off.

You just shrugged and looked at him, jutting your bottom lip out. “I’m going with you.” He was quick to shake his head, his hands on both your shoulders as he pushed you back towards the car.

“No, no, no. No, you’re not.” He refused your assistance. “Get back in the car.”

You simply brushed his hands off of your shoulders, walking past him. “No. C’mon-” Suddenly, you were being pulled back by your wrist, facing the boy once more.

“I’m not lettin’ you go in there. It will only take a second, just get back in the car, please.” He was pleading with you but his eyes wouldn’t work this time.

“It only took him a second to do what he did to you.” You refuted, pulling your wrist out of his grasp gently. “So, I’m going with you. And we don’t have time to argue because we need to meet John B.” Was all you said before turning around and continuing to walk towards the front door of the house. 

You told him he’d never be alone with his father again and you meant it. The blonde reluctantly followed behind you, his heavy boots not making his appearance known for once as you both tip-toed into the house, the door creaking as you did.

The floor stuck to the soles of your shoes as you both crept into the house. It was a mess — flies buzzing around the dishes piled in the sink, shoes far too large to be JJ’s scattered across the floor, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol lingering in the air.

JJ immediately spotted his father, sprawled out on the couch and snoring loudly, a half-drunken bottle of whiskey behind him. His son walked over to him slowly, eyeing his father with caution.

“...Dad, I need the keys to the Phantom.” He spoke to his father’s sleeping figure as you stood feet away, watching the interaction happen. The older man didn’t wake up, his snoring fit just getting louder. “Dad?’ He tried again to no avail, eyebrows twisting as noticed the male’s unusually deep slumber. 

He looked around, blue eyes landing on an empty pill bottle on the coffee table.

“What is it?” You asked from your place a few feet away.

“...Ambien.” He said despondently, a undertone of anger seeping through. Neither of you said anything else about it, JJ putting the pill bottle back down and turning back to his father, spotting the keys dangling from the chain around his neck.

Grabbing a pencil and an exact-o knife, he knelt next to the middle-aged man, gulping harshly as he did so. You could see the fear bubbling within him, whether it was the tears in his eyes or the way his hands shook. Luke’s eyed edged open just as JJ was lowering the tools, the boy freezing in place.

“...I didn’t expect to see you.” Luke rasped, you immediately put one foot forward in case something were to happen. But he seemed calm. Tamed… “School out already?” He questioned, the first thing the man reached for in post-sleep daze being the open beer on the coffee table.

JJ’s face twisted in on itself, his fearful teary eyes filling with confusion. “What?”

“Did you ditch?” His father coughed, JJ’s blue eyes quickly fleeting in your direction for some kind of reassurance. Security. “You can tell me if you did.” The older man smiled drunkenly, laughing. JJ’s expression softened in the slightest and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding as he replied.

“Yeah… yeah, I did. Hit the break, y’know.” He shrugged, feigning carelessness. Luke just laughed, struggling to stand from the couch in his disorientation.

“I hated school, too. My boy!” He cheered, slapping a wobbly hand on JJ’s shoulder in congratulations and in order to stabilize himself most likely. Your hand clutched the doorframe, biting the inside of your lip now knowing how quickly the older man’s switch could flip. “Look, I know I’m hard on you sometimes…But sometimes, I-I see your mother in you and it gets me a little tweaked, y’know?”

All JJ could do was stare down at his feet, biting his bottom lip in an attempt to will the tears brewing in his eyes to subside. “You’re a good boy.” Luke proclaimed, smiling at his son. You didn’t know if he was drunk or possibly having a moment of clarity. “And I love you, son.” He told JJ, pulling the blonde into a tight hug, patting him on the back.

JJ’s eyes met your own over his father’s shoulder — blue eyes surrounded by trails of red, tears making his pupils shine. What bothered you the most was the fact that he didn’t blink. For the entirety of the hug, which was long enough, JJ didn’t blink, not once. You could only wonder what was going through his head.

“...Love you, too, Dad.” He said, strained. But his expression remained all the same. But his voice made it seem as if the words he spoke brought him physical pain. Luke’s arms fell as the delirious man practically collapsed onto the sofa, losing consciousness once again. JJ’s face was flushed, tears trails shining as he yanked the dog tag with the keys from around his father’s neck and took swift steps in your direction, attempting to brush past you and leave the house until you gripped his upper arm.

“JJ-”

“This?” He cut you off harshly, whipping his head in your direction as he sniffled his feelings away. “This is why I wanted you to stay in the car.” He said, expression softening as he gently pulled himself out your grip and left the house.

“THERE SHE BE…” JJ gawked as he pushed open the garage door, revealing a large, pristine boat in the middle of the room. He was in a significantly brighter mood since you’d left his house, you refusing to let him wallow in his mild-anger towards you and riding in the backseat with him. You were surprised when he let you take hold of his balled fists, whispering your apology into his ear as he simply nodded and hummed. You didn’t miss the way Kiara kept glancing at you both through the rearview mirror.

“The Phantom.” He bragged, dragging his hands against the exterior as you and Kie stood by, letting him ramble and gloat. He needed something good right now. “A 1983 Formula 402 SR1 — the first boat to make the run to Bermuda in under sixteen hours.” 

“...It’s kind of a junker.” Kiara said unimpressed, staring blankly at the blonde.

“Really? She’s right there, Kie.” JJ reprimanded. “She can hear you. You would not be smokin’ weed right now if she never existed.”

“Let’s just hope she runs.” You butted in, leaning against the boat, not too far from JJ. 

“She’ll run alright.” JJ spoke in confidence, winding up a wire under the boat. Tires screeched against the concrete outside and Kiara threw her hands up in the air.

“That’s Pope. Finally!” She cheered, skipping towards the garage exit when Rafe’s frame rounded the corner, your back straightening and eyes going wide as you both locked eyes. 

“Hey there,” The boy breathed out, taking steps closer as Kiara retreated slowly, her hands balled into nervous fists. “What’s goin’ on? How you guys doin’?” Then a wolf-whistle was heard from behind you, the three of  you whipping your gazes around to find Barry entering the garage, his signature smirk adorning his features.

“Well, well…” He drawled, getting closer to JJ until he was close to pull a gun on him. A small gasp leaving your lips as JJ threw his hands up and Rafe made his way right next to Barry. “See, don’t think I forgot about me and you on the side of the road. I’m here because I want… my mothafuckin’ money!” He yelled before kneeing JJ in the abdomen, making the blonde curl in on himself.

“Barry!” You protested, immediately grabbing JJ and attempting to push the drug dealer away with your free hand. It was to no avail, however, when two strong arms wound around your waist and picked you up from behind. And unless Kiara had suddenly hit the gym, you knew exactly who it was and that knowledge sent you into a frenzy. “Get your fucking hands off me, Rafe!”

You kicked wildly as the boy drug you farther and farther away, watching helplessly as Barry beat on JJ and Kiara laid on the garage floor, holding her now visibly bruised knee.

“It’s not you we want, sunshine.” Rafe assured, setting you to your feet in a corner and gripping your shoulders. “Where’s John B?”

“I’m not telling you shit!” You spat nastily, pushing the man away from you with all the strength you could collect. 

“I really wish you didn’t do that…” He spoke menacingly.

“I don’t care.” You spoke, voice wavering as you struggled to get your eyes to leave his. But you felt as if you needed to watch his every move — the ways his fingers twitched, the way his eyes squinted, the vein that was popping on his forehead. “I know what you did.” You provoked. “You killed Peterkin.”

You don’t know exactly what you were hoping to achieve by saying it but you instantly regretting when you saw the way his face morphed — the flare of his nostrils as he inhaled deeply, the clench of his jaw. So hard it made his head shake in the slightest of motions before his hand went around your throat, squeezing tightly.

“Don’t you ever let me hear you say those fucking words again.” Your hands grabbed his forearm as you gasped for air, the sounds of Barry kicking JJ and Kiara yelling out becoming muffled audio in your ears. “You got that?” He questioned, your own eyes drifting to the figure appearing behind him holding a weapon up. “You got that?!” The Cameron boy shook you before yelling out in pain as Pope hit him in the back of his knees with what seemed to be a metal pipe.

Rafe’s grip on your throat fell as he did, bent over in pain as Pope struck him again, the metal clanking against his bones. You fought for air to enter your lungs as you watched the boys fight, wondering where Pope learned such coordination as he dodged blow after blow from Rafe before delivering a plethora of his own.

Your attention was stolen when you saw JJ punishing Barry, wondering when he’d gotten the upper hand as a soft hand on your back made you flinch, turning to see Kie. “Are you okay?” She asked, eyes swimming with worry as you nodded. At some point, JJ had managed to incapacitate Barry, leaving the drug dealer on the ground as Rafe and Pope continued to fight.

Truthfully, the fight between them had ended once Pope delivered a nasty blow to Rafe’s temple, rendering the boy disoriented and open for Pope to continue his assault.

“Pope, that’s enough!” Kie yelled, standing back as Pope ignored her. He hit Rafe in his stomach, then his chest, then his face, sending his body spinning away from the boy. 

“Pope!” Kiara tried again.

Rafe was drooling blood, eyes spinning wildly as Pope grabbed a leather rope, wounding the object around the Cameron boy’s neck and pulling tight. Kiara pleaded with Pope to stop, said that he was going too far. But you stood there, not saying anything — eyes focused on the way Rafe choked on his own blood, the way his hands clawed as the machine underneath him, the way his own eyes drifted to yours and seemed to plead for help.

The same yours did all the those months ago.

And in that moment, you started to wonder if you had ever truly gotten over what happened. Or if you ever would. Because, in that moment, you wanted Pope to kill Rafe. And you wanted to watch him do it.

JJ managed to get a hold on Pope, the dark-skinned boy meeting Kie’s eyes and deciding to drop the rope, leaving a heaving Rafe beaten and bloodied on the garage floor. You started to come out of your own haze, eyeing Pope as he looked down at Rafe in terror of what he’d done. What he could’ve done. 

“We… we gotta go.” Kiara stuttered, eyes fleeting between the three of you stood starstruck as Rafe rolled around. She wasted little time in walking back to her SUV, her legs carrying her there as she wobbled from side to side. You and JJ stood back as you watched Pope’s anger rebuild, your friend leaning over the bloody boy and talking lowly. 

“Stay off The Cut.” He warned. “We don’t want you on this side of the island. Any of you.” He threw his words back at him, the same words Rafe had spat at you that day on the Golf Course. 

“DUDE, WHERE IS HE?” Kiara said, a tone of annoyance in her words. We’d arrived at the meeting spot right on time, but John B was no where to be seen. Pope had calmed down significantly since the incident at the garage but you hadn’t spoken since then. The moment playing over and over again in your head. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything.

“He’ll be here. Just give him a second.” Pope assured the girl, spots of Rafe’s blood staining his shirt. Police sirens wailed as a squad car pulled up behind you three, lights flashing as they came to a stop. You all tried to remain calm as you anticipated what the police could want now while also praying that John B didn’t pull up just as they’d arrived.

All of your worries went with the wind when John B hopped out of the driver’s side, cutting off the lights and sirens and pulling a backpack up on his shoulders with a semi-solemn look on his face.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” JJ smiled from his place behind the wheel of The Phantom. 

“Shoupe let me take it for a spin.” John B smiled smally, flipping his curls out of his face as he edged closer to the four of you. Kiara was the first to give him a hug, embracing the boy with a giggle as JJ spoke. 

“It wasn’t easy, bro, but I got The Phantom for you.” He said triumphantly, holding up the keys between his fingers and tossing them to John B who caught them between his palms. “You ready to go?” The blonde asked, standing on top of the boat as you all watched John B’s face fall.

“...Where’s Sarah?” 

Kiara looked around, lips pursed in confusion before she spoke. “She’s not with you?” 

“No, no, we got separated in the swamp, she said she was gonna meet me here.” JB panicked, eyes fleeting to the trees surrounding the four of you as if she would appear from between them. “I’m not leaving without her.”

“John B, “ JJ started, kneeling to level his eyes with his best friend’s. “I know you feel bad for leaving but there’s no time, dude.” John B simply clenched his jaw and looked away. “You’ve got plenty of gas, plenty of food. Once you get around that point, it’s a straight shot across the sound to Dismal Swamp, alright? Once you get there, lay low. Hang out for a couple weeks and then go overland, cross the border at Brownsville, you got that? Brownsville.” JJ detailed, hand now firm on JB’s shoulder. 

“...Yeah. Yeah, I got it.” He spoke, staring out into the distance. Snapping back, he got onto the boat as JJ hopped off. It was only then you realized that you’d been standing in the same spot when the three of them — Kiara, Pope, and JJ, had their hands on the rails ready to push the boat into the water.

“Guys?” John B gathered all of your attention. Hands gripping his backpack straps for dear life as his eyes watered. “I’m sorry for basically…throwing us off a cliff with this whole treasure hunt thing.” His voice cracked, the sound snapping you out of your stupor as you felt your face fall. In all of your years of knowing John B, being his friend, being his sister, basically — you’d never heard him so remorseful. So defeated. Not until his dad died and only again at this very moment.

Something willed you to move, carrying your feet closer to your four friends until you were close enough to grab onto the boat rails and haul yourself up next to John B, stabilizing yourself and throwing yourself onto him in a hug that took him a moment to return. You could feel the tears building in your eyes as you buried your face into his shoulder. “I’m sorry about your dad.” Was the first thing you could think to say, the Routledge boy chuckling sadly in your ear.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about yours.” He returned, patting you on the back. You pulled back from the hug, hands still on his upper arms.

“I’ll finish this.” You nodded sadly, biting your bottom lip as small tears ran down your cheeks. “For the both of us.” John B didn’t say anything, just nodded sadly as well, a pitiful smile on his face. “Stay safe, Bree.” You said in farewell, squeezing his arm and turning away to get off the boat, joining the other three behind the rails.

“Forget all this sad shit, bro.” JJ sniffed, throwing his arms over all three of your shoulders and looking up at John b. “Everything that happened? We did it together, man. Pogue style.” John B laughed breathlessly, eyeing the four of your gratefully, almost like he was trying to commit your faces to memory.

“Pogue style.” He sighed back. 

“Now, get out of here! Please…” Kiara rushed. 

“Yeah, we’ll see you down in Mexico.” Pope pointed, a sad look swimming in his eyes despite his tone.

“Love you.” JJ left the words with his best friend, John B returning the gesture before pausing his walk to the cockpit of the boat. 

“...Tell Sarah I said goodbye, okay?” He choked out, the four of you nodding in agreement. He gave you all a grateful nod before settling into the boat, the rest of you putting in effort you push the boat into the water as the sound of the engine starting up echoed throughout the trees.

You could see the way John B purposefully avoided all of your eyes as he sped off, the boat getting smaller which each passing second as you said goodbye to your friend. 

Once he was out of sight, Pope was the first to turn around, coming face to face with Kiara as you and JJ walked out, their conversation still able to heard.

“You okay?” Kie inquired.

“...I’m sorry for…acting like a dumbass. I was just upset.” He stammered, you and JJ leaning on the car and being nosey. “And I was being petty and-”

“It’s okay.” Kie breathed out, shaking her head. 

“I just wanna be friends again.” Pope admitted, tone exhausted and shoulders dropping as thunder rumbled, the sky darkening within seconds. Kie stood there, looking at Pope’s outstretched hand. But she never shook it. Instead, edging forward and embracing the boy into a hug. Pulling back from the exchange, you didn’t expect her to go in again, this time for a kiss.

You and JJ exchanged looks, you were sure you looked confused but you couldn’t quite read JJ’s expression. Nothing was detectable from his dilated pupils or the way his eyes kept flickering between yours and your lips. And for a brief moment, you found yourself wanting to kiss him. But the thought made your stomach turn so wildly that you had no choice but to look away.

You were just vulnerable right now, you thought to yourself. 

Police sirens appeared out of nowhere, somewhere between three and four squad cars surround the four of you from all angles. Your hands went up as Shoupe and a dozen other officers and FBI agents exited the vehicles, half of them with guns drawn.

“We’re too late, goddamnit!” Shoupe reprimanded himself. “Bratcher, tell your men to stand down.” He directed at the brown skinned man with an FBI jacket on, the man in question motioning for the remaining agents to lower their weapons. “Let me talk to these kids.” Shoupe shook his head defeatedly, approaching you all with hands on his hips. “Alright, where the hell is he?” None of you responded. “Where the hell is he?!”

Still no response. You guessed his next tactic was to try and interrogate you all one by one. “JJ? I see you’re livin’ up to your name.” The blonde simply huffed and shook his head, a small smirk on his lips as he stared straight ahead. “Pope, how ‘bout you?” He tried again. “This isn’t a fuckin’ game! You can do the right thing, right now. Where’d he go?” He yelled in the boys face. Typical, unmedicated Pope would’ve caved under this kind of pressure. But you think the marijuana had left imprint on him somehow as he stood, perfectly composed. 

The four of you stood, wordlessly and stoic. If Shoupe wanted to find John B, he’d have to do it his damn self.

THE SUN HAD GONE DOWN A WHILE AGO. Shoupe had detained the four of you, taking you all to the tent his team and the FBI had set up to overlook to water surrounding the Outer Banks — the lighthouse providing the best outlook, they were just waiting for Dominion Power to restore the power to the city. But you were praying John B had gotten away already, or that he would before that inevitably happened.

The environment gave you a headache — the flood lights, the police lights, the constant ringing of phones, the news vans outside trying desperately to get a word out of you and your friends. But you all remained silent — no word on John B, Sarah, or their whereabouts. 

You were all in direct earshot of the conference table. Hearing dozens of law enforcement agents talk about John B like some internationally wanted serial killer was disheartening. It made you angry.

“Do you think he made it by now?” You whispered in JJ’s direction, the blonde sat on your right with Kie and Pope to your left. Your leg was bouncing nervously against the ground, your fingers fiddling with each other in your lap. JJ’s blue eyes fleeted between your leg and hands before planting a warm hand on your thigh.

“I hope so. But something tells me he went to find her first.” He spoke honestly.

“Her?” You asked, your mind blanking from the stress.

“Sarah.” He replied simply, you nodding and drawing your lips into a thin line. The two of you sat like that for the next few passing moments — in oddly comfortable yet tense silence, JJ’s thumbs absentmindedly drawing circles into your thigh.

The FBI agent that Shoupe had called in had his entire crew on standby, his eyes laser focused on the waters in front of him. It was too dark to see anything beyond a few miles radius, but it still made your heart jump just thinking of the possibility that John B could be out there.

“We need eyes on the other side of The Point.” He snapped at the agent next to him, the man passing on the order. It didn’t seem like a routine command. It was urgent, like he saw something.

You felt a frantic hand shaking your thigh, directing your sights back to JJ whose eyes were focus on everything you all. “Shit. Look,” He jutted his head in the direction of an open end of the tent, bringing your attention to the lights turning back on throughout the island. Section by section until the island was lit up like a Christmas Tree. 

And it seemed like any prayers you’d made all those hours ago never made it up to the man in charge as the one light you hoped would never work again lit up the sea in front of you — The Lighthouse giving every person around you a clear view of the boat you’d all said farewell too just hours prior. 

“That’s them!” Some random deputy yelled out. “There they are!” He pointed, John B and Sarah’s figures, outlined like two deer in headlights as The Phantom waded aimlessly in the water, people crowding around the edge of the grass to see them like some kind of tourist attraction. 

The bald man at the head of this operation now, taking over Shoupe, called in his radio immediately. “Bogey spotted off the lighthouse, running lights out. I think it’s them…”

You didn’t think your heart could drop so far, the feeling cause you to almost dry heave as you gripped JJ’s hand, that was still on your thigh, for dear life. Siren wailed across the waves as two coast guard boats revved up, heading in the direction of The Phantom. Right on time for John B and Sarah to start the engine and speed away, out of the lighthouse’s direct spotlight. But they were still visible. 

Journalists, news anchors, and conspiracy theorists all rushed as if they could run after the boat, watching the chase take place. The crowd formed within your line of vision, making you no longer able to see what was going on. You silently thanked God for it, you weren’t sure if this was going to go as planned anymore.

And you knew this only ended in one of two ways — with John B in jail for life or with the four of you seated right now at another funeral.

You’d forgotten all about the oncoming storm, and all sorts of terrible thoughts filled your mind. Kiara got up from her seat as Pope called her name, the girl attempting to push people out of the way.

“I can’t see. What’s going on? Excuse me. Move out of the way!” She tried, the crowd just regenerating every time. Pope put a hand on her shoulder, turning the girl to face him with tears in her eyes. “We don’t know what’s happening, Pope! Don’t you care about what’s happening?!”

He just nodded, pulling the hysteric girl into him, letting her cry silently on his shoulder. You and JJ just sat in silence, hand in hand. You felt the tears running but didn’t care to wipe them. No version of this scenario played out in your favor. And though you’d never give up John B, what else was there left to do?

The thunder clapped harder and brighter, the ground beneath you trembling in the smallest of motions. The radio on the center of the conference table carrying a digital voice throughout the tent.

“Suspect is attempting to escape south. Our attempts to contact the vessel were unsuccessful. We’re gettin’ hammered here.” The man on the other end of the radio warned, probably hoping his supervisor would tell him to end it, to turn around and let them go. You could only imagine the disappointment when the lead FBI agent spoke back.

“...Hold your position, Captain. I think I’ve got one more card we can play.” 

A sigh came through the radio. “Roger that.”

You couldn’t help sigh yourself, the sound coming out strained and shaky as you closed your eyes and squeezed JJ’s hand tighter. You shook your head side to side, hoping the tears would go away. 

“Hey,” An all too familiar voice came from beside you, opening your eyes to find JJ staring back with tears just waiting to fall. “It’ll be okay-”

“Don’t.” You cut him off immediately, shaking your head and biting your lip. “We both know that’s a lie so please don’t lie to me right now. It’ll just make it a lot harder when…”

“When what?”

“They’re driving them right into the storm, JJ.” You reminded, angrily. But the anger wasn’t directed at him. “We all know what’s bound to happen.” But JJ’s eyes were now stuck where yours had been just seconds prior, following his gaze to find Ward Cameron at the head of the transmitter now, microphone in hand as the FBI agent stood next to him.

You watched as his thumb hit the button on the side. “...John B?” He called, hand shaking as he did so. God, this man was an actor. Putting on the performance of a lifetime. “I know you’re there, son. I know you can hear me.” The audacity, you thought. The audacity of Ward to refer to John B as son, knowing what he’s done. It made you sick. “If you love my daughter like I think you love my daughter, then you will turn that boat around and come back. You are going into a storm that you cannot survive.” He reprimanded.

The words made you wince, more tears falling from your eyes. A mix of premature grief and overwhelming infuriation. This man, this killer, had a team of law enforcement agents behind him while he framed a teenager for murder right before their eyes. 

“John B, I am begging you. Think of her and turn around.” Silence. The entire tent was filled with tense, consuming silence. One part of you wanted John B to remain silent. But the other wanted him to speak, just in case this was the last time you’d ever hear his voice.

“...Ward Cameron, do you hear me?” The static crackled, all four of your ears perking up.

“Yes.” Ward straightened in his seat, feigning relief. “Yes, son, I’m right here.”

“...You killed my father, you killed Owen Carter, and you framed me for a murder I didn’t commit!” John B’s voice bellowed clearly. “You took everything from me!” He cried, the sadness in his voice seeping through the radio. “But I’m still here. And I swear to God, Ward, I will come back one day and take what’s mine.” JB threatened, Ward going rigid in his place. His eyes were wide and anticipating, hand shaking as he seemed to be deep in thought and rage.

“...So, you listen to me, all right?” John B continued. “I’m comin’ for you. I’m coming. For you.” The entire space was filled with that gut-wrenching silence again. Ward had nothing left to say. To these strangers, he probably portrayed as a sullen father who’d just lost his daughter.

But to you, he was manipulative killer who got his kids involved in his world of crime. And sure, maybe he regretted it. But none of you were looking for regret. Besides, if Sarah can’t forgive her own father. If she can’t find some reasoning or justification for his actions, why should any of you?

One deputy broke the silence. “We’ve lost their radio signal, sir…”. Shoupe was quick to comfort his long-time friend, removing the radio from his hand and speaking into the intercom.

“Those are kids out there. Don’t stop lookin’.” He commanded his team. Now he cared about them being kids? Not when he was right there, driving them into the storm? He planted a steady hand on Ward’s shoulder, leaning down to his ear. “You stay right here. We’re gonna needa talk to you…”

ALMOST AN HOUR WENT BY before the team started to pack up. The table in front of you all was now gone and everyone had cleared out. Apparently, the four of you had to wait until your parents showed to take you home and claim custody, which was a whole ‘nother nightmare in itself. Kie’s eyes were still puffy from crying but now she just remained with a permanent frown on her face and Pope had been running a hand through his hair for the past half hour, trying not to lose it. 

You couldn’t really place how you and JJ felt. For once, you didn’t know. It felt you’d both just lost a brother. 

“We got Search ‘n Rescue on standby.”

“Any response?”

“They’re not calling it off yet…”

Officers chattered mindlessly, paying no mind to the catatonic teens staring out at nothing in front of them. Shoupe came into the tent wearing a weatherproof yellow jacket, two men trailing behind him in identical attire. The four of you stood swiftly, waiting for the Deputy- Sheriff, to speak.

“Did you find them?” Pope urged, almost pressing the man. Shoupe gritted his teeth, shaking his head side to side in response. 

“...No.”

“So, they got away?” Kiara spoke optimistically, her tone rising more than it had in the last couple hours. Shoupe swallowed, avoiding all of your eyes. And somehow, you just knew.

“We, uh…we lost them.” He said firmly, holding back his own emotions. How does a man go from wanting nothing more to find a “fugitive”, dead or alive, to seeming remorseful that said teen was now gone. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” You spoke for the first time in what felt like forever, voice small, strained, but still furious. “That’s all you have to say yourself? Is that you’re sorry?” You took a step closer, voice trembling dangerously as a hand latched around your wrist — JJ.

He directed his gaze to Shoupe. “What do you mean you lost them?”

Shoupe sighed, raking a hand down his face. “They took an open boat into a tropical depression.” He retorted professionally.”

“...So, they’re dead?” You asked tearfully, fists balled painfully at your sides. Shoupe eyed you pitifully.

“We…don’t know.”

You couldn’t help but snatch your wrist out of JJ’s hold, taking steps forward until you were just inches away from the Sheriff’s face. “Whatever happened to them,” You started, anger consuming your words. “It’s all. On. You.” You said, enunciating each word with a finger to his chest, no matter how watery your voice sounded. “Do you understand that?!” You voice rose as you shoved the officer.

The two men on his side grabbed you and pulled away just as Pope’s voice rang out. “He didn’t kill anyone and you know it!” One of the men turning his attention to Pope, holding him back. Then JJ was lashing out, Kie’s face morphing as she started crying again.

Two figures ran into the tent, Kie’s parents. She let out a sob as she ran and embraced her mother, the remaining three of you calming down. The officer let Pope go as his mother approached him, pulling him down as his dad trailed in right after her.

Pope broke down in his mother’s embraced as he grabbed at her back as if he was falling. Heyward set a fatherly hand on JJ’s shoulder, the blonde heaving as he looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry.” Pope cried as Heyward joined the hug. 

You heart didn’t drop when you saw your own mother standing at the entrance to the tent, raincoat on with the hood over her head as your eyes connected. You didn’t cry or smile or run to her. You just stared at her with every ounce of disappointment, anger, and hate you’d ever felt in your entire life. 

And when Heyward broke the group hug to let JJ into the family hug between Pope and his parents, your eyes drifted to Kiara and her parents, who were looking at you. You wondered if they knew, but then you assumed that that was a crazy idea. Her parents were more your father’s friends than they ever were hers. 

When your eyes went to find your mother, she was gone. And you accepted the invitation of comfort from the Carrera’s, letting tears flow freely and sobs leave your chest. 

Maybe JJ was right. 

Kooks versus Pogues? 

They always, always win.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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©loveharlow.

[moneyndior]

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫and i promise forever.⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH! percy, hypothetically, confesses his feelings.

tags/warnings: percy jackson x reader, tv!percy for the theme, however, book percy was in mind, reader is hyper aware of what people think, awkward teenagers interacting, friends to lovers, the lake kinda rats percy out, not proofread.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷: take a shot everytime hypothetically is in this fic

—

“hypothetically, how well can you keep a secret?”

“i’ve been your friend for god knows how long and you don’t know how well i can keep a secret?”

you asked, snickering as you hugged your knees closer to your chest. the sun was starting to set over camp half-blood and the last thing on your mind was getting to your cabins on time.

watching the lake’s waves splash against each other, the leaves in the trees whistled together. you two were relaxing after what feels like years.

you two didn’t particularly ask to be demi-gods.

“‘oh, very well, percy. thanks for asking!’ would’ve worked too.”

he mumbled more to himself than you, mimicking your voice as he made the pitch in his higher.

“oh, very well, percy. thanks for asking!”

you mocked, blinking in an over exaggerated manner. curiosity began to fill your head, questions racing in your mind. however, with how you are, you didn’t wanna come off annoying. so, deciding to kill two birds with one stone, you just asked,

“why?”

“because i have another hypothetical question to ask you.”

you rolled your eyes, another chuckle leaving your throat. percy was never the type of kid to just ask one thing and move on.

“wow, shocker.”

“shush. anyways—hypothetically speaking here—i have a crush. and, remember..all hypothetical, the crush was you…”

percy mumbled, breaking eye contact to look at the lake, the waves in the water beginning to splash a little faster and a little more hectically.

your mind went blank as you tried to process what he was saying. even if it was all hypothetical, hypothetical wouldn’t change the false hope he was feeding you.

“and i asked you out. because i, technically, really like you. would you say yes?”

percy asked, his words coming out jumbled and frantic, matching the water in front of you two.

“hypothetically, of course.”

he added, his tone still fast, his heartbeat speeding up along with it. the silence from your end made his blood run cold from embarrassment.

“uhm,”

you managed to squeeze out, your voice way more unstable than you’d like it to be in this situation

“hypothetically…i’d have to ask how well you keep a secret.”

well, shit. if this isn’t the start to a rejection—percy doesn’t know what is.

“pretty well.”

you gulped, biting the inside of your cheek as you went through every possibility and every word in any dictionary ever to find the perfect words to use.

“i’d tell you that in this hypothetical situation…i, also, really liked you and that i’d say yes any day.”

percy didn’t know what to do in all honesty. all he could do was grin from ear to ear as the sound of the waves getting quicker blocked out any other background noise.

“seriously?”

“yup.”

you nodded, your eyes shifting down to the ground for a second or two.

“well, uhm, would you like to go out? maybe? non-hypothetically?”

percy asked, his small flush across his cheeks making his face feel hot. he, unconsciously, leaned closer to you in anticipation.

“yeah, i would.”

with your confirmation, percy felt a bolt of energy enter his body. he nodded, chuckling to himself as his smile begin to hurt his cheeks.

“cool.”

he muttered, feeling anything but cool as he leaned back away from you. the both of you sat in silence until you stood up, dusting yourself off.

percy looked up at you, his knees to his chest, lips slightly parted. you bent down, brushing his hair behind his ear, kissing his temple lightly.

“can’t wait, percy.”

you mumbled before walking off, leaving percy alone with his thoughts and the way-too-out-of-control lake. as what happened slowly proceeded in his mind, a wave hit his legs.

sure, his pants are now wet. sure, he looks like a goddam dork right now. but who cares? he just got a date with the girl of his dreams. all he could do his care about you and only you.

not something silly like water, or the hypothetical, or what lie he’s gonna use to explain why his pants are wet.

[jeannineee]

Intertwined (Ⅲ)

Batboys x Reader

a/n: part threeeee!! Parts one and two can be found in my masterlist. Hope you guys enjoy!! There will be one more part after this!!! Quickly proofread, sorry for errors. Requests open!!

I tried to keep reader’s powers vague, so you can kinda decide what that looks like. 

PART FOUR

warnings: canon-typical themes, Illyrian misogyny 🙄violence (18+ please)

You vaguely remembered falling asleep against Rhys’s chest. Vaguely remembered Cassian carrying you to bed, Azriel placing the fur blankets over you. Vaguely remembered the hushed whispers between the three of them, as sleep beckoned you for the night.

“Do you think she knows?” Cassian.

“Obviously.” Azriel.

“We don’t push her. We don’t ask her. She’ll talk to us tomorrow.” Rhysand.

The other two didn’t argue as the door to your room closed, and you finally succumbed to your exhaustion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The meeting was to be held in the main hall of the camp.

Cushioned chairs spanned the perimeter of the room, all made to accommodate Illyrian wings. Rhys led the group, with you and Mor behind him, Azriel and Cassian flanking you.

Upon entering the room, all eyes were on the High Lord. Some sneered, while others remained unreadable.

Rhys’s power thrummed throughout the space, providing a not-so-gentle reminder to the warlords that a mere flick of his wrist could level the room. And that if he didn’t feel up to the task, a single word from Rhys’s mouth would send the two Illyrian warriors behind him to do the same.

Rhysand sat first, with you on his right, Mor on his left, and Cassian and Azriel standing guard behind the three of you. You quickly realized you and Mor were the only two women in the room.

Devlon opened his mouth to speak, but Rhys cut him off.

“You know why we’re here,” Rhys said, his tone cold, lethal. The High Lord of the Night Court.

“To wipe away our values. Our traditions,” one of the older warlords spoke. Echoes of agreement filled parts of the room, while others remained silent.

You were fuming. As was Mor.

Didn’t realize brutalizing women was a worthy ‘tradition,’ you hissed into Rhys’s mind.

Breathe, darling. Don’t scare the warlords before we’ve started discussions.

Indeed, every face in the room was glued to you, now. You were so blind with anger that you didn’t realize your power was billowing like pure energy from your fingertips.

You inhaled, exhaled deeply, and your power dissipated.

Good girl, Rhys purred.

You had to fight the urge to not snap your head towards him as he refocused his attention to the men in the room. You were certain your cheeks were blazing red.

“I am only going to make this clear one more time,” Rhysand began, violet eyes sweeping across every face before him. “You will not, under any circumstances, clip your females’ wings. You will not damage their wings in any capacity.”

“You will not stop the females in your camps from joining the Valkyrie. You will not keep the ones who have already joined from their training. You will not stop them from leaving your camps, if they wish to do so.”

The room went dead silent for several moments, before the oldest warlord opened his mouth, addressing the other men in the room. “I will not have our legacy crumpled by Amarantha’s half-breed whore and his bastard dogs.”

The snarl that left you was vicious and inhuman as your blood went cold in your veins.

Before the warlord could blink, your power snaked around his throat, constricting the air from his lungs. You didn’t even lift a finger.

Cassian and Azriel watched you, but made no move to stop you. Mor’s lips twitched upwards, fighting away a smile.

Easy, Rhys spoke in your mind. His words don’t mean anything. He means nothing.

I should kill him, you snapped back.

You’d never felt so enraged in your life. To insult them—your—your mates.

Maybe. But not now, Rhys replied, daring to put a hand on your arm.

“If you ever, ever insult them again in my presence, I will rip your fucking throat out,” you eyes darted around the room, rage rippling off of you. “That goes for all of you.”

Finally, you released the hold your power had on the old warlord’s neck, and he collapsed to the ground, choking and gasping.

Not one male in the room dared to negate your words.

Rhys snapped his fingers, a roll of parchment unfurling on the table in the center of the room. “This entails everything I just told the lot of you. My word is law. If you sign this, you are bound by it. If not…” Rhys glanced to you, and then Mor. “If not, I will treat you the way you’ve been treating your women for centuries.”

Within minutes, every person in the hall signed the parchment.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, you were back in the House of Wind, nestled on the couch with a book. Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian were sparring together outside, once again fighting over wingspans. Mor sat on the couch beside you, a glass of wine in hand.

“When are you going to tell them that you know about the mating bond?” Mor asked casually.

You gaped at her as you closed the book you were holding. “I—don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mor smiled, sipping at her wine. “Don’t play dumb, y/n.”

You sighed, leaning back into the cushions, wishing the couch would swallow you whole. “Is it even possible to have three mates, Mor? Three?”

“I don’t see why not,” she shrugged. “I’ve heard of people having two. I’m sure three is possible. Rare, sure. But possible.”

You peered through the open windows, watching the three males spar together. As if on cue, you felt a pang in your chest. And then another. And another.

Mor’s brows furrowed as she observed you. “They all love you, in case you’ve been blind to that.”

“I know.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“It’s not fair to them. To be mated to me. To have to…share me.”

“You’re psyching yourself out before you’ve even spoken to them,” Mor laughed gently. “Sounds about right.”

Mor sighed when you didn’t return her laugh. “The three of them would do anything for you, y/n. Just talk to them. You’ll figure it out.”

You nodded, nervousness beginning to flood through you. “I’ll talk to them. Right now.”

Mor arched a brow, as if impressed. “Hm. I’m going to the townhouse for a few days, then.”

“What?”

“I enjoy quiet, and sleep,” Mor said, rising from the couch. “You should prepare yourself, because you probably won’t be getting much of that any time soon.”

She winked, before winnowing away.

Slowly, you stood from your seat, moving to the open doorway. “Rhys? Cas? Az?” you called to the three men, who froze immediately, bodies still glistening with sweat from their sparring.

“We need to talk.”

[brodieland]

Hi! I saw you write for Leo Valdez and I was wondering if you could do Leo with an S/O who was born and raised in Washington state and like anything about Bigfoot like S/O has a few merchandise of Bigfoot and is used to seeing Bigfoot themed stuff (stuff like coffee shops and playing cards) but other then that have a great day/night!

.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Bigfoot and soda !! ´ˎ˗

Leo Valdez x Fem!Dionysus!Reader Synopsis: going on a roadtrip with Leo, you drove through the town you grew up, and you show him your favorite myth, Bigfoot!! Warning(s): BLURB, but none, crazy right? Word Count: 304 A/N: love when you guys send me request, makes me feel lit af. hope u have a great day/night as well!!!

Roadtrips with your boyfriend may be one of the best ways to spend your summer. With the windows down, with the hair blowing through your hair, Leo thought you looked beautiful. As you passed through Washington, it was like driving through memory lane.

"Gods, it's been forever since I'd last been here," you muttered in awe as Leo pulled into a parking lot. You both stopped at a convenience store to stock up with more snacks and drinks for the road.

When you walked in, you both went over to get some food. While you were picking stuff out, you didn't realize Leo had wandered off. You turned back around, eyebrow quirked as you were confused as to where your boyfriend went. "Leo?"

"Over here," he called out from the next aisle. You went to go find him and saw him standing in the middle of the mini Bigfoot 'exhibit.' "Isn't this the one you have back at camp?"

He held up a Bigfoot funko pop. "Yeah, I have the squatch too."

"Wait, isn't the full name like 'Sasquatchanakwa' or something?"

You smiled. "No babe, that's from Total Drama Island, I fear."

"Same thing," he shrugged. "Why's Bigfoot such a big thing here, no pun intended of course."

"He was spotted nearby. I love myths like this," you thought for a second. "But considering Greek gods and myths are real, maybe so is Bigfoot?"

"Yeah no, kinda hope not. I'd barely reach his shin."

"You'd be like gum under his foot," you both chuckled.

"Oh my gods, look at this," Leo brought up a pair of socks that had words on the bottom of them. The first one said 'you know what they say,' and the second one said 'about guys with big feet.'

"I think you should buy them baby," you winked.

[bengiyo]

Love Class 2 Eps 9 & 10 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

Last week, in keeping with the theme, I can barely remember what happened in the K-BLs. I know that the younger couples all basically came out to each other, and all three couples gave some decent kissing. I continue to enjoy J-min. I also am glad we resolved the situation with Kim An’s orphanage friend, because that was kinda fucked. The TA and artist are dealing with a misunderstanding that feels a little meaty, so I hope we have a good resolution moment for it. I’m glad Maru and Minwoo finally kissed about their problems.

Episode 9

I’m okay starting with Minwoo and Maru spooning.

Okay, it’s very sweet of Maru to recognize that Minwoo has loved him for a long time and stood by him through all the things Maru went through. I love him promising to be there with Minwoo now.

Kim An is shirtless in bed? How now brown cow.

Never mind, they’re handling business and getting it in.

Oh shit. Joo Hyuk’s friend read him on this park date goddamn.

Oh, was Joo Hyuk with the teacher that Sungmin often does chores for?

Looks like Maru’s tormenting of the manager worked.

Look at my girl finally finding a straight man to flirt with.

The professor was Joo Hyuk’s uncle? LOL

My man Sungmin is so resilient. He realized he’d embarrassed himself, cleared up the matter, and then asked for a date. That’s what I’m talking about!

Kim An and Lee Hyun are frolicking!!

I’m okay with everyone getting cute dates this episode.

I will never get tired of people expressing their feelings for each other clearly and directly, and then making out.

“You are obedient at important moments,” and  “Let’s have many important moments. I promise I’ll be a good boy,” what actually so hot.

I appreciate that there was probably a limit to how physically intimate they could get an idol like J-min to be in this show, and so they fed us with the sides. It’s something Thailand relied upon a lot for a while. J-min served well by being so talented in the early parts when I was struggling a bit. This show has struck a really nice balance after I settled into it.

I see you boys rolling around with each other and I know what that means. Nicely done, sirs.

I love that the tag is giving us the backstory for how Joo Hyuk fell for Sungmin. Unsurprisingly, Joo Hyuk was kind of a whiny drunk.

Episode 10

Now we’re on a Gays Only Camping Trip? Incredible.

This looks like so much fun omg.

These people have immaculate vibes. This is way better than whatever the fuck was going on in Our Skyy 2: Star in My Mind.

This supermarket trip is so cute holy shit.

You mean the tell me this is a gay bbq and they didn’t know they was all paired off? Gay people are so dumb.

I love this conversation between Minwoo and Lee Hyun about how Minwoo used to be jealous of Lee Hyun’s feelings.

This show is doing a really good job showing couples settling into each other in its finale.

Okay, deciding to no longer kiss in the shadows is such a baller gay thing to say that this show just earned half a point.

Okay this photo is really good.

Final Verdict: 8.5, This Was Cute as Hell. I want to thank @he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle for getting me to keep going with this show. I think it was a little hard to follow at first, but I had really satisfying outings with all of the characters here. It was kind of a grab bag of plots, but once I locked in I had a fantastic time. This was really fun, and a worthwhile watch. J-min has real talent and I was impressed by him.

[bestworstcase]

@nightmare-foundation from here

To be completely fair Salem has kinda been harassing, killing, and ruining Oz's lives for millennia 😭 she tortured a 15 year old boy who wants nothing to do with her, and it's directly stated by jinn that Salem manipulated Oz. I love Salem as a character, but as a person she's repulsive. Oz isn't perfect but he's infinitely better than her (no pun intended lol, also not looking for an argument or anything)

not out to pick a fight here, just want to lay out my thoughts:

the question ruby asks is "what is ozpin hiding from us?" and the answer jinn gives her is couched explicitly as a fairytale ("once upon a time, there stood a lonely tower..." and of course the episode itself is named the lost fable). this in a narrative where the veracity of fairytales is consistently questioned and ozpin explicitly leverages fairytale and legend to conceal information and control the narrative.

(see also 'the story of the seasons' and 'the two brothers.')

moreover, in "fairytales of remnant" ozpin's commentaries on 'the infinite man' and 'the girl in the tower' specifically discuss propaganda and the importance of skepticism: "no one who wasn't there could know what really happened. and even then, they would only have a small part of the story." and "one must always be prepared to think about and question everything they read or hear, especially if they are told it is the absolute truth."

likewise, "question everything" is a key theme of V5 and that theme largely centers around ozpin's dishonesty. so this is the narrative context in which TLF occurs: is jinn an objective narrator, or... is she answering exactly the question ruby answered, and telling the story as ozpin remembers it?

i think TLF sits firmly in the "ozpin's side of the story" camp, and i read it with the presupposition that the narrator is unreliable.

so, with that in mind: jinn insinuates that salem lied to ozma ("salem, fearing ozma would reject her, blamed the end of the world on the gods") and draws a rhetorical equivalence between salem's rebellion and what she tells ozma they should do ("the hearts of men are easily swayed.") the implication that salem manipulated him is quite clear.

however: TLF is what ozpin was hiding.

by definition, you cannot hide things you don't know; ergo, none of the information revealed in TLF was unknown to ozma prior to ruby asking jinn this question.

it follows that either salem told him the whole story, including her own part in it, or ozma asked jinn what happened. given ozma's utilitarian usage of the lamp ("where are the other relics? what powers do they possess? how can i destroy salem?") and the effort he devotes to burying the past, i think it is much more likely that he heard it from salem.

further, what salem told ozma according to jinn isn't a lie. in fact, salem blaming the gods for the end of the world corroborates the explanation the god of light gave to ozma ("a... tragedy has befallen your home at the hands of my brother"). yet: "ozma, still unsure of where the truth lay, kept his task and the relics a secret."

salem's account of what happened differed significantly enough from what the god of light told him for ozma to doubt her; where light blamed his brother, salem blamed both gods.

the scenario that i find most likely is that salem initially glossed over the rebellion but told ozma everything else: that she petitioned the brothers to bring him back, that they cursed her, and that they eventually decided this wasn't punishment enough, declared humanity a failed experiment, and wiped everyone out. then, later on, she admitted that she incited rebellion against them and told ozma why she hid that from him at first.

after all, "salem blamed the end of the world on the gods" tells us absolutely nothing about how much detail salem went into. just the conclusion she came to about who was to blame.

meanwhile, we do know exactly what secrets ozma kept from her: he didn't tell her about his task or the relics. this is important, because ozma later voices concern about humanity being "more divided than ever," and salem answers without having the full context.

"we could become the gods of this world. [...] we can mold these lands into whatever we want—what you want!—create the paradise that the old gods could not." <- this is a course of action she suggests in response to ozma bringing up "humanity is divided" as a problem he would like to solve. from salem's perspective, ozma just told her that he has an ambition (uniting the world) that dovetails with her own desire to make a better world without the gods, and she really does believe they can do it!

but what ozma actually wants is to unite the world on behalf of the gods, then summon the brothers back to remnant to judge whether humankind has earned redemption or not. his true goal is the exact opposite of what salem proposed, but he doesn't tell her!

"the hearts of men are easily swayed"—but she did not exactly twist ozma's arm, here. all she does is enthusiastically go "we could fix that!" in answer to ozma fretting about the state of the world, and ozma... doesn't object, at all. her wording makes it abundantly clear that she would never accept the divine mandate, so he... keeps that a secret from her. for years!!

one of them is being manipulative here. it isn't salem.

and—well, look at how she reacts when he finally does object.

"are we sure this is right?" <- he's explicitly asking for her opinion.

"you said we needed to bring humanity together; in order to do that, we need to spread our word, and destroy those who would deny it." this is an indirect answer: whether right or wrong, their actions now are what's necessary to achieve his stated goal. but is it a manipulative answer? does she intend to shut him down?

or is she trying to broaden the discussion? he asks, "is what we're doing right?" and she answers, "well, it follows from our objective. does the end justify the means?"

he says, "this isn't what he asked of me." <- hard objection.

she says, "what did you say?" <- request for clarification.

he tells her everything: "the true reason the god of light had brought him back, the relics that lay scattered around the world, and the day of judgment he had been told to prepare for."

salem—though visibly unhappy—listens calmly, without interruption, until he's finished and turns to her for an answer. and of course her answer is to reject the mandate altogether ("don't you see? none of that matters anymore!") because in her view the brothers are tyrannical monsters and the world is better off without them, as she made crystal clear from the very beginning.

but she doesn't reject ozma; she holds out her hand and asks him to forsake his task and try things her way.

and what stands out the most to me about this whole scene is that at no point does salem appear to be unwilling to have the discussion. she answers his first question in a very open-ended way, asks him a question when he says something she doesn't understand, sets her own feelings aside to hear him out, and then couches her rejection as a question—why does it matter what the gods told you, why should we try to "redeem" these humans?—whilst making a gesture that very explicitly invites ozma to engage with what she's saying.

but like, at no point in either scene does ozma reciprocate that; he doesn't push back at the start, and when he doesn't like the answer she gives him he appeals to divine authority rather than engage with what she actually said, and when she questions the mandate he straight up just walks out. is that salem's fault? does it make sense to read this as learned behavior caused by salem's treatment of him when he acts the exact same way from the start?

in the real world we call this missionary dating.

just as ozma isn't to blame for salem attacking him, salem isn't to blame for ozma doing this to her.

anyway, as for the idea that salem has been hunting him and tormenting him ever since:

jinn says, "no matter where or how he lived, her presence was always felt"—and what we see is two beowolves attacking the town.

but:

salem does not control every grimm in the world, and there are many, many examples throughout the story of grimm attacks happening without her knowledge or control. most notably, grimm attack the argus express, with oscar on it, at a point in time where salem doesn't even know ozpin is back yet.

as per 9.10, twelve years ago, ozpin's last-minute secret urgent missions so regularly turned out to be false alarms that he had a catchphrase about it. his own inner circle told inside jokes about his paranoia! and the sheer level of destruction salem has achieved in just two years calls into question the assumption that this is a normal state of affairs.

over the course of the show, we've seen ozpin make several grievous miscalculations based on the assumption that salem will prefer to remain in the shadows. her first move involves orchestrating a massive terrorist attack on an internationally-televised sporting event. she openly lays siege to atlas and smiles while she watches ruby reveal her existence to the world.

ozma sees salem's hand in every grimm attack and every crisis he's weathered throughout the years. he also very badly misjudges her strategy and tactics when she actually goes to war.

do we trust his perception that salem is the mastermind behind everything bad that has ever happened in his vicinity?

on the other hand, ozma explicitly believes that "if humanity were ever to stand a chance of being united," salem has to be destroyed. he explicitly decided to search for the relics in order to "rid the world of her." and after asking where to find those relics and what they could do, the third question he asks jinn upon finding her is "how can i destroy salem?"

there is zero ambiguity about this. for thousands of years, his main goal has been to get rid of her. and... considering that she was legendary when ozma first returned ("during his years of travel, he heard the same frightened whispers that spoke of a terrifying sorceress who commanded dark powers in the wilds among the beasts and monsters..."), he's been quite phenomenally successful in eradicating her influence and presence even though he cannot, of course, actually get rid of her.

the point of this is not to justify any of the things salem has actually done—ozma is no more responsible for her actions than she is for his—but to argue that she is justifiably angry at him.

i think the text makes it quite clear that salem was profoundly traumatized by the way he treated her, because he took advantage of her trust to lie and manipulate her into serving gods she vocally rejected and then spent thousands of years crusading to get rid of her. i think the common fanon—that salem is a spoiled brat who abused ozma while they were married, "ruined her own happy ending," and now unfairly blames him and wants to destroy the world to spite him or punish him for "leaving" her—is flatly countertextual.

[prince-kallisto]

Book 6 had me thinking-

ARE WE GOING TO SEE THE IGNIHYDE SENIOR STUDENT AFTER THE FIRST NRC ARC IS OVER?!,!,

Like omg omg. I’m so excited to see all the seniors (if we get to see them). I have no idea what some seniors could be based off of, just because TWST did such a good job of combining some roles (e.g Trey being both a card soldier and the ‘King of Hearts,), and some roles would be a little unnecessary (e.g an Iago for Jamil). After racking my brain some, I thought of some ideas for the seniors while keeping any sequel Disney movies out of the picture:

Heartslabyul: The Mad Hatter or the White Rabbit. TBH I feel like Cater was kinda robbed for not being a rabbit-themed beastman. I think his attachment to Magicam and following the trends could’ve been a good parallel to the White Rabbit’s obsession with time. But I can see the White Rabbit being a RSA student, so I hope we get to see him in the future. But the Mad Hatter would be SUCH a contrast to Riddle’s strictness. I could also see the Caterpillar being a fun character to have, but I think he’s a bit more obscure compared to the two potential seniors. (Plus Heartslabyul already has enough characters-)

Savanaclaw: Shere Khan and/or Kaa. Here me out: I could not figure out anything else for Savanaclaw without digging into the sequels haha (Zazu already got twisted in the Savanaclaw hometown event), but since Jack isn’t really based off the Lion King either, it only seems fair. Plus, there’s a canonical reference to the Jungle Book in TWST, with Vargas Camp and the “red flower,” aka fire. I think Shere Khan’s ferocity could be a fun contrast to Leona, while they both share a cunning attitude. Plus, I think the red flower could be cute reference to how Scar got burned alive in the Lion King haha

Octavinelle: That one little French guy who tried to cook Sebastian. Just kidding- but I am actually stumped for this one. Apparently, the shark that Ariel and Flounder swam away from is named “Glut” (probably for gluttony?), so perhaps the shark? I even thought about King Triton, because he did have an antagonistic role in Ariel’s POV.

Scarabia: The genie? Like I said earlier, the way Scarabia’s story played out didn’t make an Iago-character feel necessary, and Grim even got a few of the cracker-jokes. I thought it was really cute how Azul was briefly considered Jamil’s “genie in the lamp.” But the Genie from Aladdin did end up in the hands of Jafar, and did some bad things under his command. In the TWST world, I could definitely see the twisted Genie being a really powerful mage who went to do ambitious things for his senior year.

Pomefiore: I’m actually stumped for this one…I thought about the Magic Mirror, but we already have Mira Mira for Vil AND the Dark Mirror. Pomefiore has a pretty perfect balance of cast and inspirations, so I don’t know. The…King??? He didn’t appear in the Disney movie, but he is technically a Snow White character. There is the Queen’s raven, but uh… (*eyes Crowley and Levan*)

IGNIHYDE: PAIN AND PANIC AND MEG. AJXHSHAKXHSB. This post was originally just going to be about these guys, but y’know. BUT I’D LOVE TO SEE A TWISTED MEG. I love Ignihyde, but it was one of the few dorms that felt like something was sorely missing. Thinking about it, it would’ve been really cool if we got a sneak peek of TWST!Meg, who perhaps did his internship at STYX? I’d love to see the dynamic with Idia Axhxbahjzjz. I could really imagine TWST!Meg being that cool-headed, mature and charming senior, but perhaps STYX has dirt on him in some way, leading to him acting differently towards Idia? Like perhaps a relative or someone close to TWST!Meg Overblotted, and was taken away by STYX? I’m surprised Pain and Panic weren’t students in TWST, but if they were seniors, I wouldn’t be surprised if these two were “combined” into one character, like how the three hyenas were combined into Ruggie.

Diasomnia: Diablo- *eyes Crowley again*, or…the briars??? Diasomnia also did a good job of turning some really unique concepts (e.g Maleficent’s lightning for Sebek) into characters, so I wouldn’t be surprised if a briar-themed character was introduced. Silver and Sebek also represent Maleficent’s henchmen pretty well, so it would feel a little redundant to include them.

All in all, I’m REALLY excited to see the seniors one day, and I think I’ll end up being surprised by some of the character inspiration. I honestly don’t think they’ll have a major role in the story, just because TWST has found a good balance in side-stories and Gacha with the current amount we have. But I think it would be really fun fanservice, so I don’t mind if they end up like Neige or Rollo. But all I need IS A TWISTED MEG SHCHHSJZHZHXHJ

[crispy-chan]

yellow wood ➻ b.ch

➻ PAIRING. bang chan x fem!reader

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

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

➻ WORD COUNT. 29k

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

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

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

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

MASTERLIST | CLÉ MASTERLIST

𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎

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

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

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

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

But it was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝚡𝟶𝟷𝚡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her movements halted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They were afraid of you.

𝚡𝟶𝟸𝚡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝚡𝟶𝟹𝚡

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

You hated working in the textile factory with passion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Never talk back to PSFs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝚡𝟶𝟺𝚡

Three full days passed before Jeongin returned to your cabin.

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

It was almost like you could feel each second.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Actually, Jeongin would never be the same. 

Not after what they had done to him.

𝚡𝟶𝟻𝚡

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

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

How could you not feel like it was your fault?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

“We have to escape from here.”

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

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

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

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

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

“It's okay, Y/N. Please, don't cry…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I'll come.”

𝚡𝟶𝟼𝚡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“B-But I—”

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

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

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

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

“Who are you?”

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

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

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

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

What have you done?

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

Just like with your parents.

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

He had no memories of you.

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

You were on your own now.

𝚡𝟶𝟽𝚡

Everything was quiet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The first gunshot popped like a firecracker.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-Yeah, why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It then hit you; Chan was a Blue.

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

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

“See. I knew you'd do a great job.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝚡𝟶𝟾𝚡

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were really pretty when you sang, he noted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like you were…

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

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

“C'mon, the coast is clear.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It had been a while since he felt like this.

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

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

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

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

His brows furrowed—where were you?

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

You fell asleep on the floor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well… fuck.

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

Yeah… you wouldn't mind being spared those.

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

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

𝚡𝟶𝟿𝚡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chan nodded. “Yeah. I'm sure of it.”

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

“Thank you, Chan.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that was dangerous.

You shouldn't get attached. 

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

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

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

𝚡𝟷𝟶𝚡

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

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

“Y-Yeah, just a bit tired.”

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

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

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

Jisung, it struck you. He was saving Seungmin.

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

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

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

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

So that's how it was…

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝚡𝟷𝟷𝚡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That's when your little group split up, each of you going in a different direction as you grabbed whatever you could get your hands on.

You were in one of the last aisles, standing on your tippy-toes as your hand extended towards the uppermost shelf. A groan slipped past your lips as your fingers managed to only push away the small box of Pocky instead of grabbing it.

“Need any help?” a breathy voice suddenly whispered into your ear, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. “C-Chan, God… you scared me!”

He chuckled in reply, his eyes flicking upwards to scan the shelf. “You want the Pocky?”

When you nodded, he pressed himself closer to you, his chest going flush against your back as his arm stretched towards the paper box. “Here you go,” he handed it to you, not noticing the way the heat rose to your cheeks. “Thanks!”

“No problem. My arms are really long so I'm glad I could help,” he supplied with a grin, grabbing a tube of Oreos for himself. “Let's go catch up with the other two.”

The four of you gather by the soft drinks aisle, Jisung grabbing a few bottles of Mountain Dew for himself. When Chan asked him what he'd need this much energy for, Jisung shot him a glare, muttering a few curses under his breath.

“Is there anything else we need?” you poked Chan in the side, struggling to hold the heaps of food in your arms. “We should probably look around the mall to see if they have any other useful items,” his hand shot out to catch the KitKat that was about to fall from the top of your little food pile. “It would be nice to find some clean clothes, maybe even a blanket or so.”

A small nudge to your back made you turn around, only to find out that Seungmin had brought back a shopping cart from the other side of the store. “Thank you, Min,” your hand reached out to ruffle his hair, dropping all your items inside. “My arms were beginning to hurt.”

Jisung placed his energy drinks in the cart with a breath of relief, pushing it towards the exit of the grocery store. You made your way through most of the shopping mall, looking for a store that seemed at least somewhat intact but to no avail. It wasn't until you reached an old hypermarket all the way in the back did you find what you needed.

“Finally!” Jisung groaned, leaving the shopping cart stranded in the middle of the entrance as he ran towards the section relatively filled with clothing and home decor. “I can get some fresh underwear!”

While he headed off to the undergarments section with Seungmin nervously trailing behind him, you and Chan made your way towards the blankets and sheets. 

“Oh my God!” you screeched once you rounded the corner, placing your hand in front of your mouth in shock. “Is everything okay?” Chan ran up to you, placing his hands around your waist from behind. “Oh.”

A sea of beds were arranged in front of you, a massive clearance of the store being dedicated towards bedroom furniture. “This is amazing,” you whispered, eyes flying from one side to the other, unsure of where to go.

When Chan turned to you with a grin, you knew something was up. His lips were curved into a mischievous smile, one that signaled that he was about to do something big, eyes twinkling. “C'mon,” he grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the sea of beds. “How long has it been since you jumped on a trampoline?”

Hand in hand, both of you ran at full speed before jumping in the air, landing on the first bed. A chorus of laughter echoed through the empty store as you leaped from one bed to another, giggling like little kids. A burst of energy flew through you when you saw the massive King's bed, the gap between it and the one you were on currently a lot larger than the distances you've jumped over so far.

Placing your other hand on Chan's bicep, you motioned towards the prized piece of furniture, lips curved into a playful smile. His eyes widened in bewilderment as he shook his head, “that's way too far. We'll end up smothered on the ground.”

Despite him usually being the voice of reason, something inside of you didn't want to comply. Instead, you clutched onto his palm tightly as you made a run for it, leaping over the rift between the two beds.

“What the hell?” the curse flipped past Chan's lips but it was already too late. He landed on the bed on his back with a thud, your own body toppling over his as his hands reached to steady you at your waist.

“Shit! Are you okay?” you breathed out, using your hands to push yourself off of him in hopes of not smothering him. Chan bit his lip, something dark flashing in his eyes as pulled you back onto him.

“I don't know, are you okay?”

Your heart was beating so fast you were afraid it would leap out of your chest, heat rising to your cheeks as you felt Chan's toned body right under you. Your hands were curled into his t-shirt and your eyes flew from one place to another, not wanting to look into his eyes.

His hand suddenly cupped your cheek as he steered you so that you were looking him in the eye. “Is everything alright?”

You whimpered, “y-yeah, I'm fine.”

Chan smiled so brightly that you for a second thought he was the Sun, somehow managing to reassure you without having to utter a single word. His touch was as delicate as silk, and you could feel his breath fanning against your lips. You shivered at the foreign sensation, leaning into his soft caresses as his hand slid from your cheek to your waist.

“C-Can I… can I kiss you?”

Breathlessly, you nodded, closing your eyes as you felt him press his lips against yours. Almost as if fireworks had exploded in you, you felt your insides burst with love, excitement, and affection, feelings you knew were dangerous.

Your hands curled into Chan's hair, gently tugging at the locks causing him to groan. Your lips danced together as you found a steady rhythm, a shiver running down your spine when he alternated the way his lips moved, applying more pressure.

You felt like you were on cloud nine, all your thoughts turning into mush as Chan continued to kiss you with so much fervor it made you dizzy. His hand was now cupping your waist, pulling you closer to him as his lips devoured yours.

Suddenly, a loud thump echoing through the store made you two part, breaking off the heated kiss. You exchanged worried glances as you somewhat awkwardly slumped down from the bed, slowly sneaking back towards the source of the loud noise. Chan protectively extended his arm to the back to cover you, sweat beginning to line his forehead.

Why was everything suddenly so quiet?

The silence was nerve-wracking, giving you the feeling that there was someone out there. And to confirm your darkest fears, a loud set of footsteps sounded. This time, much closer to you than before.

Suddenly, you felt a strange force tug you up, your limbs flailing like a ragdoll. You let out a choked scream feeling the air getting knocked out of your lungs. Then, you felt warmth envelop you, covering you like a blanket.

You opened your eyes to see your hands digging into Chan's back as his strong arms encased you, circling around your shoulders. A second passed. Two seconds. You were hanging in the air with Chan's arms wrapped around you, bewildered and afraid.

What was going on?

“C-Chan,” you whimpered, the sound raspy and coming from the back of your throat. “What's happening?”

“Shhh,” he pressed your head into the crook of his neck, scanning the area with a knowing glance. Then, almost wistfully, he whispered, “close your eyes.”

Just as your fluttering eyelids closed, you felt the force tug you upwards. Another breathless scream left your parted lips as you clung to Chan, feeling as if life was draining from your very being. Up, down, left, and right. These people had absolutely no qualms throwing you and Chan in every direction, the latter having to brace himself every time you two were flung into one of the metal shelves lined with bottles and cans.

“Fuck,” Chan whispered when a broken glass bottle slashed his arm, dousing the back of his shirt with whatever cheap beer was inside. “Don't you think that's enough, you assholes?!”

A chorus of boisterous laughter resonated through the store, causing anger to bubble up in his veins. The muscles in his back tensed as he balled his hands into fists, growling, “we're PSIs too, fuck's sake, so why don't you put us down and we can have a nice and civil discussion about this.”

As a response, you were thrown even higher in the air, the attacker spinning you a few times like a pinwheel. The insides of your stomach were churning as you coughed out, feeling as if you were going to pass out.

“What the fuck do you want from us, cowards? Let's settle this one-on-one, I'll fight you and we can see if you'll be so confident then you fucking bastards!” Chan bellowed, his grip on your shoulders tightening involuntarily.

Straining your ears, you picked up on the hushed whispers of a group of people—four, maybe five tops. Then, the somewhat deeper voice mumbled something, and the rest, albeit some begrudgingly, agreed with what he said, a breath of relief slipping from your mouth when you finally found yourself standing on the ground.

But you couldn't say that you were standing on your own two feet. Immediately as the soles of shoes made contact with the vinyl flooring, you felt yourself tumble, knees buckling under your weight.

“Shh, you're okay,” Chan instantly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest, affectionately patting the back of your head. “ 'M so dizzy,” you mumbled, feeling your consciousness slowly slip away. You felt as if someone had thrown you into the deep end and you were barely trying to get above the surface and keep yourself afloat.

But you were failing.

And Chan realized that too as he scanned his surroundings, making note of the fact that Seungmin and Jisung were hiding in one of the nearby aisles, the latter signaling that they were alert.

A shadow glimpsed in front of him, and Chan now knew their positions. If worse came to worse, he could probably handle a couple of them now that he knew their location, or at least hold them off for Seungmin to reach a source of electricity. 

That kid could be really scary when he wanted to…

“Are you gonna show yourselves?”

Almost reluctantly, the first one stepped forward, and to Chan's surprise, he found out that he knew him. His brow immediately shot up at the sight, confusion etched onto his face.

“Jeno?” he rasped, blinking to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. The boy smiled, eyes turning into crescent moons as he scanned his former roommate of approximately two months. “Chris? Is that really you?”

Chan nodded, mouth agape as everything slowly began to settle in his head. This guy—Jeno—was his bunkmate back when they first came to camp. They didn't stay together for too long though since a new surge of children flooded their tine camp and the PSFs had to rebuild all the cabins.

But his shock didn't last long, instead, rage filled him at the thought of someone he used to consider a friend turning into such a monster. He watched as one after the other, four more guys came out from behind him, dressed from head to toe in military gear and armed with various weapons.

Suddenly, one of them stepped forward, twirling a small dagger in his right hand. Even from a distance, Chan could see how sharp it was, the cheap, flickering supermarket light reflecting against the sharpened blade. Gently laying you against one of the shelves, he stepped forward, shielding you with his body.

“Not a step closer, do you understand?” he threatened, voice low and dripping with venom. The guy chuckled, tossing his blade in the air before catching it, his gaze never wavering.

“Why do you think you get to call the shots here? Last time I checked, we're at a clear advantage here since it's just you and the passed-out girl.” His lips curled into a sinister smirk. “Not that she'd be of much use anyway. Although I must say she's a real babe, I wonder how good her mouth is…”

A chorus of laughter followed as the group laughed at their leader's crude joke. Chan, on the other hand, didn't find it really amusing. Blood was boiling inside his veins, his hands balled into fists as he struggled to keep himself under control.

‘Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts,’ he kept repeating to himself like a mantra, hoping that if he said it enough times, the anger would disappear like a puff of smoke on a chilly day.

“Hey, hey,” Jeno's mellow voice suddenly cut through the air, “it's okay—I can vouch for him, cap'! He's cool. Not to mention he's strong as hell too—he was the one who broke us out of our camp.”

Upon hearing those words, the boy stilled, visibly pondering as he weighed out his options. It seemed like Jeno's reassurance had eased him though, his battle stance relaxing. Slipping the dagger back into his belt, he glanced back at Chan, his lips forming a crooked smile.

“It seems like one of my guys trusts you, so I'll let you go. You can grab whatever you need and stay one night but that's all that we'll allow.”

Chan almost wanted to remind him that they weren't the ones to arrive here first, therefore they had no reason to dictate who could and couldn't stay but he bit his tongue. There was no point arguing with them and realistically speaking, he doubted any of you wanted to stay here for longer than one night.

“Sure. We'll be gone first thing in the morning.”

𝚡𝟷𝟸𝚡

“Are you sure you don't want us to help?” Jisung asked once again as he trailed after Chan, Seungmin shuffling behind him. “You can put her down and go look for the meds while we watch her, you know?”

“No way,” Chan cut him off, his facial expression hardened into a mask of apathy. “I'm not leaving her anywhere.” His voice then took a somber tone, “you didn't hear what they said about her, did you?”

Jisung's gaze softened, “a-actually… I did. It was pretty awful, I know you want to protect her and make sure she's okay, but—”

“But what?” Chan cut him off, his pace quickening as he turned into the houseware aisle. “Why is there always a but with you, Jisung?”

The boy's eyes widened at his friend's harsh tone, the words cutting deeper than intended. Jisung felt as if a knife had just been plunged into his stomach, tears beginning to prick at the corners of his eyes. Was he really that annoying?

Seungmin, having noticed the change in mood, watched as Jisung's steps slowed down before grabbing his hand, squeezing it in reassurance. 

“I just… you're always taking care of us and I-I don't want you to get hurt…”

Suddenly, everything went quiet, Chan's footsteps slowly diminishing into nothingness as he processed Jisung's words. It was hard for him to focus, to fully grasp what his friend had just said—his brain having turned into mush long ago.

Chan was a born leader… or at least that's what everyone had been telling him since birth. He was praised for his strong yet soft voice that could command nearly anyone to do virtually anything. He had good morals—his mother had ensured that by raising him right—and that in turn made people willingly place their trust in him.

Wherever he went, people followed, unknowingly putting the burden of authority guidance on his shoulders. He always carried the weight of other people's problems, and while he enjoyed the feeling of satisfaction that protecting and caring for his loved ones provided, sometimes, it became a little too much for him to handle.

Somewhere along the line, he began to lose sight of who he was. All of his energy was always directed towards others, making sure that they were okay. Yet rarely had anyone asked him if he was fine.

Tightening his grip on your limp body, he took a step forward. Warmth filled him upon hearing Jisung's words—gratitude swirling inside of him, seeping into every crevice of his body.

“Jisung?” he breathlessly whispered right before he rounded the corner. “Thank you for caring. It means a lot.” He wondered if he even heard him.

Grabbing the pack of meds from the shelf, he made his way back to the clearance in the middle of the store where the four of you had made your little base. Gently laying you on the bed, he dusted his palm against his pants before opening the box with shaky hands.

‘There's nothing to be worried about,’ he whispered to himself, hoping that those bleak words of reassurance would make a difference if he made himself believe in them. You just got dizzy from being thrown around in the air—it was perfectly normal for people who weren't used to the sensation of telekinetics to feel woozy for a bit.

Hell, Chan remembered how one kid even threw up after being exposed to a sudden burst of the power.

Pulling the small bottle from the paper container, he sat at the edge of the bed with a plastic spoon he retrieved from the party section. He poured some of the milky-white liquid onto it before carefully cupping your cheek with his other hand, angling your head to let the syrup spill into your mouth. 

“You'll be okay,” Chan murmured, brushing the hairs from your forehead. “Stay strong, darlin'.”

As your stomach rose and fell with each breath you took, dark thoughts began to fill his mind. The memories from the night of the escape trickled back into his head, flooding his thoughts with the gruesome scenes filled with blood, gore, and gunshot.

Running a hand through his hair, he groaned, shaking off the unpleasant memories. He’d have to move on.

“Oh… hey, Seungmin,” he waved, cracking a smile when he saw his younger friend. Though his expression fell when he noticed the boy’s glare.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, but he already knew the answer. “It’s about Jisung, isn’t it?”

Seungmin nodded, angrily pointing to where he came from. He then motioned to himself and to you, his hand reaching to grab yours.

“You want me to go talk to Jisung as you watch over Y/N?”

Another nod. Chan sighed, remorse painting his face. “You’re right. I’ll go talk to him and apologize. Will you make sure she has everything she needs, Min?”

Seungmin smiled brightly, revealing his tiny pearls, and it was enough of a confirmation for Chan. He knew you were in good hands now. Standing up, he ruffled Seungmin's hair before heading out to look for Jisung.

It didn't take him long to find him; he was curled up against the wall next to the canned goods, head in between his knees. Chan felt horrible. It pained him to see his friend in such a state, not to mention that he was the one to cause the predicament with his insensitive words.

Crouching down beside him, he whispered, “hey, Jisung.”

Jisung didn't answer at first, sniffling before he lifted his head, looking at Chan with puffy eyes. “Y-Yeah? Do you need anything?”

It was official; Chan felt like an absolute asshole.

His expression softened as his eyes scanned Jisung's face, counting the tears staining his cheeks. Chan had half a mind to wipe them off with his thumb but managed to restrain himself. He came here to clean up the mess he made.

“I'm sorry, Jisung,” his hand dropped to his friend's shoulder, rubbing gentle circles into his shirt. “I was way out of line and I took my anger out on you—which I know wasn't cool.”

Blowing his nose into a napkin, he mumbled, “it's okay. I know you're just trying to keep her safe. I can tell how much you care about her.”

Chan's eyes widened, “her? Jisung, I care about all of you, you know… it's not just her.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jisung replied, looking away. He crumpled the napkin, shoving it into his pocket, “it just feels like you don't care about us as much anymore.”

It took Chan a few seconds to bounce back from that. His heart began to beat against his ribcage so fast that he was afraid it would jump out of his chest. Is this how Jisung had truly felt the entire time? Was this the reason he had been so cold to you in the first place.

His hand dropped down to the floor as he looked him in the eye, a serious expression painting his face. “I hope you're not thinking that I'm replacing you guys with her. We're still in this together, no matter what.”

Judging by the way Jisung grimaced, Chan knew he hit the nail in the coffin. He felt the knife in his chest plunge deeper, tearing at his insides. “We're still the dream team, remember?” his voice cracked, the first layers of the strong facade he had built around himself beginning to crumble. “We're still gonna find Yellow Wood, right?”

“Of course we are,” Jisung exclaimed, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. “You know I'd never willingly leave you guys. It's just that…”

Chan quirked his brow, egging Jisung to continue. “It's just that I'm afraid you'll grow tired of me. You're so… you're so powerful and I'm just… I'm just me…”

He breathes out, casting his gaze down as he stares at his shoes. “There's nothing special about me.”

Choking on his spit, Chan's eyes grew wide as Jisung's words finally sunk in. They weighed heavy on his chest, filling it with an unexplainable black void. His hand reached out, fingers flexing before he retreated it back, letting it drop by his side.

His tone was raspy when he spoke. “I thought you, out of all people, would know that I don't care what color you are. It doesn't matter one bit. I just… we talked about her time at camp and she told me she had a really hard time.”

Chan sighed in exasperation, frustration evident in his tone as he continued, “West Creek is nothing like the small regional camps. That place is hell, Ji. It's hell on Earth and when they were escaping, her friend didn't make it out. So yeah… I may have been by her side a lot but it's only because I want her to feel like she isn't alone. Not to mention that Y/N is Green too so your point no longer stands.”

Jisung's lips curved into a bitter smile as he chuckled, the sound so hoarse and raw. “At least I can always count on being the smart one. You may have the brawn but it seems like you were spared the brains.”

Raising his brow, Chan almost wanted to take offense at the statement but he brushed it off, way too curious now to interrupt Jisung's train of thought. And perhaps Jisung was right—he was, after all, the one to always come up with all their strategies. Which is why it frustrated him on no end that he had no idea what he was talking about.

“You really haven't noticed, have you?” Jisung shook his head, slightly amused. He couldn't fault Chan for becoming so enamored with you, but he could've at least paid more attention to his surroundings. One day, his naivety would bite him in the ass.

Chan was becoming more impatient by the second, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “What haven't I noticed?”

“She's not a Green, Chan,” he looked him in the eye, his gaze unwavering. 

“She's an Orange.”

For the following few seconds, Chan felt like the air was being kicked out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe, he realized in panic, as his breath began to heave. His brain was foggy, almost as if he was thrust underwater with no way out. 

“H-how do you…” the words died out in his throat, “how do you know?”

Before Jisung could even answer, a loud crank ricochetted through the store, causing the both of them to look up. A bright spark of electricity flashed above their heads before eventually vanishing from sight, but it was enough. It was enough for them to know that something was wrong.

“Shit, Seungmin!” Chan exclaimed, hastily climbing up onto his feet and breaking into a sprint. Jisung was hot on his heels, fear coursing through his veins as he thought of all the things that could've possibly happened.

And none of them were pretty.

“Stay behind me,” Chan instructed as they ran, causing Jisung to roll his eyes. “I mean it—you saw what they did to us—and it would've been a lot worse if it weren't for Jeno vouching for me.”

“Of course,” he sighed. “I'll let them hurt you instead of me, sure.”

Chan turned around to shoot him a half-baked glare but a loud scream caused him to nearly trip, his arms shooting out to brace himself against the wall. 

“Let go of him! Don't you dare hurt him,” Chan heard you scream, your voice hoarse and muffled, as if you were being held.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, clenching his fists. They've just crossed into uncharted territory. 

Suddenly, someone shouted, disbelief evident in their tone. “What the fuck? What did she just do?”

When Chan and Jisung arrived at the scene, their eyes flying from one side to the other as they tried to understand what had just happened, you were gripping onto the leader's wrist, staring at him with an unmatched intensity.

Your eyes flashed orange as you dug your fingernails into his arm, feeling the inexplicable rush of power course through you as you slowly sunk into his subconsciousness. His memories were foggy, almost as if you were trying to swim through mud, but you persisted, a clear goal forming at the back of your head.

It took you approximately fifteen seconds to get a good grip on him, and when you felt like you finally had control, you uttered the words with so much spite and venom it later shook you to the core.

“Let him go.”

In the relatively short time that Chan knew you, he had never seen you so angry or heard you order anyone to do anything in that tone.

The boy looked lost for a moment as if he was struggling to get out from under your spell but it was a relatively short battle. In no time, he found himself nodding blankly, his eyes devoid of any emotions as he turned around to his goon that was restraining Seungmin.

“You heard what she said. Release him!”

Scared and visibly confused, the boy released him, immediately retreating with a few hurried steps, hands held high in the air. “O-okay. Calm down. P-Please.”

Another one spoke up, “b-boss? Are you sure? What's going on—”

“She's a fucking Orange, mate!” the guy who had restrained Seungmin shouted. “That's what's going on. So if you don't want to get brainwashed—”

“Shut up!” you cried over their chatter, feeling the dull throb in your head intensify. You felt like someone was hammering against your skull as you released your physical grip on the boy. Pressing your palm to your forehead, you mumbled, “get out of here. Take your entire group and go somewhere far away.”

Eyes still blank, he nodded, motioning for his cronies. “C'mon, guys. We're out of here.”

Two of them were about to protest but one look at the empty, lifeless eyes of their boss and they knew that they had to do what he said if they didn't want to suffer the same fate. As they were picking up their stuff, Jisung immediately ran up to Seungmin, enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug. “Shhh, it's okay now,” he whispered into the crook of his neck, wiping away his tears.

But before they could go, an idea flashed through your mind. “Wait a sec,” you called out, clenching your fists. “Do you know anything about the location of Yellow Wood?”

The leader turned around, catching your gaze as he whispered, “where the grass grows blue…”

You were dizzy, confused. It felt like the ground was being yanked from beneath your feet, causing you to brace yourself against the bedpost. Your head was pounding and you felt like shit, suddenly remembering how you lashed out.

It was scary to realize you were capable of doing such a thing. This was the second time in your life that you used your powers willingly. You had half a mind to grab your few belongings and run out of the store, not wanting to face any of your friends, but you were too weak for that.

“Y/N!” Chan called instantaneously, finally finding the voice that had died down in his throat. “A-Are you okay?”

You slowly looked up, teary-eyed as you shook your head, choking out a sob. “N-No.”

With hurried steps, he eliminated the distance between you, hands reaching to wrap around your waist to prevent you from falling as he gently lowered you on the bed, rubbing comforting circles into your waist.

“Hey, hey. It's alright, okay? You're probably very tired now, aren't you?” he cooed softly, looking at you with so much fondness it made your heart clench. You looked away, whispering, “stop it. Stop being so nice to me. I-I know you must think I'm a monster now.”

“We don't.”

This time, it was Jisung who spoke up, walking over to you, clutching onto Seungmin's hand. “You did what you had to do to protect yourself and Seungmin. There's no way we'd ever hold that against you.”

“I-I never told anyone…” your voice was barely above a whisper. “Six years had passed since I last used my power. I-I did it to avoid getting sorted since I knew they'd send me away. It was easier to pretend that I was a Green…”

“You're no monster, darlin',” Chan swallowed, sitting next to you on the edge of the bed. “You're a survivor, just like the rest of us. You're one of us…”

“It just seems like… I feel like the more that I try, the more damage that I do,” you uttered, balling your hands into fists. Despite having so much disposable power at the tips of your fingers, you felt utterly powerless.

“There are times when my abilities go out of control. I-I… I managed to erase myself from someone's memories… twice.”

Hiccups wracked through your throat as you finally let it all out, the dam that was holding you together now breaking loose. Chan wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to sob into his chest. The tears kept streaming down your face like a waterfall and you were sure you looked like a complete mess, but it felt so good to be held in someone's arms. You felt safe and protected as you held onto him, crying into his chest. 

“My parents. My parents and Jeongin.”

Chan immediately knew what you were talking about as he felt his heart crack at your confession. He knew how much Jeongin meant to you and he could only assume you felt as much love for your parents too.

“Shhh, it's okay,” he whispered, pressing you closer into him. “Everything will be okay, I promise.”

And for some unknown reason, you felt like he was right. You allowed yourself to indulge in the momentary feeling of peace as Chan held you in his lap, strong arms wrapped around you protectively. 

“Do you think we can stay here overnight?” Jisung asked as he walked up to you with Seungmin in his arms. “Min's out of commission for today so it may be a good idea to rest here properly before we head out. We can also try to brainstorm and figure out what they mean by blue grass.”

Chan pondered, glancing around as if to make sure that the group was truly gone. “Yeah,” he sighed, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. “They should be gone by now.”

“Okay, great. I’m still not sure what happened to him though but I think I must’ve drained his energy.”

As he laid the boy on the plush duvet of the neighboring bed, Chan decided that it would be nice for you guys to rearrange yourselves into a more comfortable position. He felt how you tensed in his arms when Jisung began to question what had previously occurred, his brows creasing.

“I’m really sorry for asking about this, Y/N,” he sighed, rubbing his temples in exasperation, “but well… I-I’m wondering if you could tell us what exactly happened. I know this must be really hard on you, I really do, but Min has been through some tough things as well and it would help a great deal to know so we know how to react once ha wakes up.”

You held your breath, unable to prevent your lips from tugging upwards at the corners. Chan was flustered, words spilling from his mouth and you could tell how apologetic he was. If it weren’t for the fact that Seungmin was involved, he wouldn’t have pressed you about it.

But the entire situation was still too much for you to put into words. Merely thinking about it got your insides all twisted.

“Yeah,” Jisung suddenly materialized right in front of you, crouching by the bed. “I'm really sorry about this.”

“It's okay,” you sighed, looking away. Your brain was going into overdrive as it struggled to find a way to tell them what exactly had transpired without having to utter the words. Chan, noticing how you tensed, grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

And then it finally hit you—you didn't have to tell them anything.

You could show them.

Taking a deep breath, your free hand reached out to grab Jisung's, the boy glancing at you with a quirked brow before he smacked his lips in understanding. “This will feel a little weird,” you warned before plunging them into the depths of your own memories, concentrating on steering them towards today's events.

Chan felt like he was walking on a cloud, slivers of your memories flashing before his eyes. He saw you laughing with your mom, riding your bike with your dad, and celebrating your birthday at your grandma's.

Those were the happy ones. The recollections that you seemed to treasure and keep close to your heart. He subconsciously smiled at the thought, enjoying the fact that he could see you so young, so joyful, and full of life.

But there was a clear moment that broke through the peaceful calmness and tranquility. Chan saw red. You were crying, sobbing even, as you were dragged away from your parents and thrown into a school bus with a few dozen other kids. You looked barely ten, he noted.

All the reminiscence onwards was from camp. To his horror, he realized that the nickname ‘hell on earth’ didn't do West Creek any justice. Inferno would be more fitting. Yet amongst the traumatic memories, Chan was surprised to have found a few that seemed to help you through these tough times.

He saw a boy, maybe a year or two younger than himself, eat lunch with you. The same boy would later reappear in a few of your other memories, always donning a bright yellow jumpsuit and always smiling.

And then he saw pain. You were crying as Jeongin looked at you with lifeless eyes as he uttered a question that chilled Chan to the bone. 

“Who are you?”

And judging by the way you began crying, Chan knew that from this moment onward, you'd truly despise the power you possessed.

All of these recollections passed through them like a whirlwind, in reality taking mere seconds as opposed to the long minutes it felt like for the two boys. Your grip on their arms tightened when you finally reached today.

Chan saw himself bid goodbye both to your half-asleep body and Seungmin, ruffling his hair as he went off to search for Jisung. As soon as he saw himself round the corner, he spotted the group of guys walk in. He released a breath he didn't realize he was holding in when he confirmed that Jeno wasn't in the forefront of the group.

But the scene that unfolded before his very own eyes (well, not really…) was so mind-boggling he balled his hand into a fist. Seungmin had just gone to get you a bottle of water after you had quietly asked him, your throat feeling unusually parched.

In the meantime, the leader of the group made his way to you from behind, his hand sliding down your shoulder causing you to gasp. You whipped your head, flinching when your eyes met.

“What do you want?” you croaked, cursing yourself for sounding so meek. The gears in your head were spinning as you struggled to think of what to do. You shivered when you saw the hungry look in his eyes, feeling disgusted as you watched his gaze drop down from your face as he checked you out.

While you were laying in a bed. Sick. Because of him.

“Oh, nothin' really, sweetheart,” he mumbled, tracing his finger down your arm. “I just wanted to talk. It's been a while since I've had the honor of speaking to someone as pretty as you”

A vein popped on your forehead as you grumbled, “I wonder why. Now scram, I don't have anything to talk to you about.”

His brows furrowed when he heard the frustration apparent in your tone. “Anger doesn't really suit you, you know. You should come join us, I'm sure you'd have a lot more fun without those losers,” he whispered into your ear, his hand lowering to your hip. “I guarantee it.”

“Enough,” you protested, shooting him a glare. With enough force, you were able to tear yourself away from him, smacking his hand away in the process. 

“Seungmin!” you called for the boy who had just appeared from around the corner, a bottle of water firmly clutched in his hands. “It's okay,” you tried to reassure him, noticing the fear in his eyes. “Go get Chan and Jisung. We're getting out of here.”

He nodded hastily, scrambling to get your friends but the boy behind you shouted, “grab him, Seojoon!”

Your eyes widened when said boy sprinted towards Seungmin, curling his palm to lift him in the air. ‘A Blue,’ you realized. And a pretty damn strong one too.

Seungmin struggled, trying to hold on to one of the shelves but he wasn't strong enough to resist the pull. You watched in horror, calling for them to stop but Seojoon merely laughed in response. In a last-ditch effort though, Seungmin's hand managed to graze one of the old lamps on the ceiling, sending a firework of sparks into the air. 

“I wouldn't do that again if I were you,” he warned Seungmin, the boy curling into a small ball as he was brought back down, straight into Seojoon's arms. He made a quick work of restraining him, ignoring your protests.

“That's enough,” you shouted, lunging forward, your arm extending. You let out a satisfying hum when you managed to grip onto his arm, slowly beginning to sink into his head…

It took you a minute or so to come back to reality.

You didn't even realize you were crying. Silent sobs wracked through your body as Chan rocked you in his arms, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

“Shhh, everything will be okay,” he mumbled, wiping away your tears with the pad of his thumb. “I won't let anyone hurt you.”

You sniffled into his shirt, calming your breathing. “I-I'm sorry, I think I ruined your shirt.”

“It's okay,” Chan chuckled, grinning. “I couldn't care less, darlin'.”

A sudden loud clang caused you jump in Chan's hold, eyes widening as you nervously looked over his shoulder. 

“Jisung?” Chan exclaimed in disbelief, “what are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Jisung grumbled, allowing his hand to fall back down by his side, clenched into a fist. He had just knocked over all the contents off a shelf which caused the loud echoing noise.

“I'm just fucking pissed.”

“I can tell,” Chan sighed, rubbing his temples, “but that doesn't mean you should go destroy things. You could wake up Seungmin.”

Jisung stared at him, completely bewildered, his mouth twitching. “Are you fucking serious? How can you be so calm after what they did? You should be— you should be fucking livid!”

Irritation flooded through Chan's veins as he glared at his friend, unable to comprehend why the usually calm and rational Jisung was reacting in such a way. It's not that he didn't understand where he was coming from, far from it. Chan was furious. But at this point, aggravation wouldn't do them any good.

“Look, Ji,” he mumbled, trying to keep his voice calm and steady. “I understand how you feel. Trust me, the sole thing I regret in my life the most is not bashing in their skulls. But there's nothing we can do now. Our best course of action is to get a good sleep and make sure something like that doesn't happen again, okay?”

Jisung's eyes darted from Seungmin to you, his expression softening slightly. He exhaled, propping his forehead against the well before he murmured, “seems like you're the voice of reason for once, Chan.”

Gently pushing yourself away from Chan's chest, you jumped off of his lap, walking towards Jisung. “Hey,” you placed your hand on his shoulder. He turned around, his eyes glassy. “Y-Yeah?”

“I really appreciate your concern, Jisung. It's heartwarming to see how much your care about your friends, but you shouldn't worry yourself so much. Seungmin and I will be okay, alright?”

He smiled at you from under his lashes, whispering, “Sung. You can call me Sung.”

“Okay. Now, how about we put our heads together and figure out what blue grass they're talking about, Sung?”

He grinned, peering at you from under his lashes. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

𝚡𝟷𝟹𝚡  

“Ugh, I'm so done,” you groaned, slamming your head against the table. From next to you, Chan chuckled, patting your pack. “Patience is a virtue, darlin'.”

You shot him a glare, mumbling, “patience my ass. You were just complaining a few minutes ago about how much you hate them for leaving us such a stupid riddle.”

“She is right,” Jisung chimed, grinning when Chan scowled.

The three of you have been sitting around the table closest to Seungmin's bed for a few hours now but to you, it felt like a lifetime. You were straining your neck to peer at the paper placed in the middle, filled with messy notes and scribbles. To be fair, it was hard to keep things organized when the only thing you had was a Hello Kitty notepad and a green crayon.

“Look,” Jisung muttered, grabbing hold of the colored crayon. “He was under Y/N's powers, right? So whatever he said must be true. And if that's the case, then we should take ‘blue grass’ at face value. I highly doubt that it's some sort of overcomplicated metaphor that the two of you are making it out to be.”

As if to accentuate his words, he circled the word ‘blue’, adding another note. “Don't you see it?”

Chan exhaled through his teeth, his hand that was propping up his chin suddenly falling to his side. “But that doesn't explain where's the blue grass in the first place. I, for one, am only familiar with the green one.”

“I know,” Jisung rolled his eyes at the snarkiness, “but that doesn't mean that there can't be blue grass under some specific circumstances.”

You sat by the table in silence, each one of you lost in their own little world as you explored different theories. The gears in your head were spinning, and you were beginning to feel dizzy, the exhaustion from prior today slowly catching up with you.

Chan noticed you dozing off when your head lolled to the side, your hair brushing against his shoulder. He slowly propped you up, declaring, “we should probably go to sleep now. Hopefully, after a proper rest, we can look at it with a fresh set of eyes.”

“Okay,” Jisung replied with the crayon in between his teeth, brows furrowed as he focused on the paper in front of him. “I'll call it quits in a few.”

𝚡𝟷𝟺𝚡

You woke up to the loud sound of snoring, shuffling under the covers till you were face to face with a sleeping Chan. Heat rose to your cheeks as you watched his chest rise and fall, his plush lips gently parted and oh-so inviting for you to just press a kiss to.

But you managed to ignore the feeling nagging inside of your chest, instead stretching your limbs with a groan. It was nice to finally sleep on a proper bed.

“Is it mornin' already?” Chan suddenly rasped, his morning voice a lot deeper than usual. But why did it manage to send shivers down your spine?

“Morning, sleepy,” you giggled, ruffling his fluffy hair. “I'm not really sure what time it is but the Sun is rising.”

“We should probably get going then,” he yawned, stretching his arms above his head. You nearly cooed when he began blinking, chasing away the sleep from his eyes. He looked up at you, a delicate smile plastered on his lips.

“Do you know where's Jisung?” you suddenly asked, straining your head to look over the sea of beds. Seungmin was on the one behind you, still curled up in the sheets, but Jisung was nowhere to be found.

Chan shot up, limbs tangled in between the covers as he swept his eyes across the room. And true to your word, he didn't see him.

“Shit!”

“Bring Seungmin,” he mumbled, tumbling out of bed. “I'll go check in the van.”

When you managed to drag a drowsy Seungmin into the parking lot, you could hear loud voices arguing. You peeked into the inside of the van, spotting Jisung and Chan sprawled on the floor.

“Thank God,” you breathed out a sigh of relief. “I was afraid something happened to you for a second there.”

“Y/N!” Jisung shouted, your name rolling off his tongue in excitement. His bright eyes were peering at you with way too much joy despite it being so early in the morning. Yet what worried you the most were the prominent dark circles under his eyes.

“Geez,” you frowned, “you look like you haven't gotten a wink of sleep.”

“Oh well,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as guilt washed over his features. “I kinda pulled an all-nighter.”

Chan glared at him, his hand jerking beside his side. He looked about two seconds away from conking him in the head. Instead, he settled on mumbling, “idiot.”

Shuffling through a stack of paper, Jisung pulled out a map, placing it on the floor of the van and smoothing out the folds and creases. He turned to face you, excitement pooling in his eyes. 

“But I think I may have figured out where Yellow Wood is,” he grinned, before adding, “oh, well… at least the general area.”

Your brows shot up as you plopped onto the ground, pulling Seungmin into your lap. 

“Please do share. You've piqued my interest.”

“Okay. So basically, I was thinking about yesterday's conversation. I firmly believe that you can't really come up with any cunning metaphors under an Orange's influence so I took his words at face value.”

He pointed to the words ‘blue grass’ boldly written in the middle of the paper. “I chose that as my starting point.”

He lifted his eyes, catching your gaze as a mysterious smile played on his lips. You glanced back at Chan, noticing that his chin was propped by the palm of his hand as he stared at Jisung, a blank expression on his face.

“So I stumbled upon a chemistry book in the literature aisle at the store so I began reading through it,” he continued, pulling out an old book that was nearly falling apart at the seam. “And coincidentally, I happened to come across a chapter about grass. Specifically, about how heat affects its appearance.”

“Are you trying to say that we should look for the hottest region?” Chan questioned, scooting closer to Jisung so he could look over his shoulder. The boy shrugged, turning the page.

“Not necessarily. You see, there are actually multiple things that could trigger grass discoloration and cause it to turn it a shade that resembles a metallic blue. And you know where all these correlations meet?”

“Here!” his finger pointed to the bright red circle on the map. “It all comes together in the Southeast Hills wasteland!”

“I-I,” you tugged your lip between your teeth. “I don't understand. Why Southeast Hills?”

“All the circumstantial evidence points to it! First of all, we have an abnormal drought in the area—and dry soil contributes greatly to this phenomenon. Secondly, when you look at the location,” his index finger ran over the map, pointing to the blob of sandy yellow, “you can immediately tell that it couldn't be any better. A vast land that's basically just forests and fields, and get this, not a single government body or camp in sight.”

“Okay,” the word rolled down Chan's tongue slowly as he licked his lips. “That all looks pretty promising, Sung, but I still feel like it isn't definitive enough for us to be sure…”

Jisung smiled, the expression not fully reaching his eyes as he flipped through the book, stopping at one of the last pages. All three of you bent over in anticipation, hanging on his lips.

“You see that's what I told myself too,” he quipped, a certain intensity to his tone, “but then I found this. It's an article from over forty years ago about a chemical spill that happened during the Cold War. There was a disaster at a nearby power plant that resulted in the entire area being contaminated by a chemical often referred to as ‘myrtille’ which means blueberry in french. And can you tell why?”

He paused, glancing over the three of you, a grin appearing on his face. “Because of its coloring properties.”

The van was so silent you could hear a pin drop. Your mouth was parted in awe as you stared at Jisung, still in shock from his revelation. Chan was just as bewildered as you were, if not more, and you could nearly see the gears spinning in his head as he tried to put all the puzzle pieces together.

“So… do you believe me now, guys?” Jisung suddenly spoke up, grinning proudly as he watched your jaws drop.

Then, Chan broke out into a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows, “I think we know our destination now.”

The four of you returned to grab all the supplies you've gathered, storing them in the back of the van as you hit the highway, cheers and laughter spilling from your lips.

“Let's carpe the hell out of this diem!”

𝚡𝟷𝟻𝚡

Your arrival at Yellow Wood was something you'd never forget. After three days of driving across the country, almost getting caught by skip tracers twice, Chan finally pulled up by the old road sign with the words ‘Southeast Hills’.

The four of you jumped out of the vehicle, Chan pulling the doors shut as you examined the vast, unkempt meadow. Planes and planes of wildflowers, tousled grass, and greenery stretched in front of your eyes, the thick blades having grown tall enough to obstruct most of the barbwire fence that fringed the wasteland.

“Look!” Jisung called out, pointing to the sign. “This is it! W-We're here!”

And true to his word, someone carved out the words ‘Yellow Wood’ right under the name. 

“Holy shit!” Chan whispered, still in shock. “We actually made it.”

As if on cue, a dozen or so figures emerged from the bushes, all dressed head to toe in military gear with weapons in their hands. Although your first instinct was to panic and run back into the van, Chan grabbed your hand, pulling you into his side.

“No way! Is that you, mate?” one of the guys stepped forward, letting his AR-15 drop to the ground as he briskly walked up to Chan, drawing him into a hug. “You've bulked up!”

Chan chuckled at his words, patting his back with a smile. “Nice to see you, Sangyeon! Who knew we'd cross paths so soon.”

Sangyeon walked up to Jisung, embracing him as well before picking up Seungmin into his arms and twirling him around. “Hey, bud. How's it going?”

You watched the exchange with nothing but fondness in your eyes, the edges of your mouth curving into a sad smile. After Sangyeon finished greeting the three, he turned around to face you, an odd twinkle in his eyes.

“I see that you've managed to pick someone up along the way.”

“Yeah,” Chan grinned, wrapping his arm around your waist. “This is Y/N, we met and scooped her up as we were running from some PSFs. She escaped from West Creek. Y/N, this is Sangyeon. He was one of our friends back in camp.”

“Hey,” you shook his hand, suddenly feeling shy from all the eyes looking straight at you. You weren't used to the attention, a bashful smile on your lips. “Nice to meet you.”

His grip was firm, you noted, and he had warm brown eyes. The watched you intently as he let go of your hand, bringing it to his mouth and whistling.

“All right, everyone. They're cleared.”

And then like the Red sea, everyone stepped back, creating a pathway for you to go in. It felt nervewracking to walk into an establishment with a barbed wire running across its border when you had just bent over backward to escape from one.

Chan must've noticed the way your hand lightly trembled because in no time, he placed his palm over yours, gently intertwining your fingers.

“I have to take you to the boss first,” Sangyeon spoke as he led you through the camp, sucking on a lollipop as he greeted all the passing kids. “He's been dying to see you.”

“No way,” Chan gloated, “the Slip Kid wants to talk to us?”

Sangyeon released the lolly with a ‘pop’ before shoving his hands into his pocket. “Yeah. He's been especially excited to finally meet another Orange.”

Your mouth parted in shock, muttering, “this can't be. The Slip Kid's an Orange too?”

“Yeah. and a damn good one at that! C'mon, it's time for you to meet him.”

𝚡𝟷𝟼𝚡

The rest of the day passed by like a whirlwind, and before you could even register it, the Sun began to set.

The four of you were welcomed to Yellow Wood rather warmly, and you immediately noted that the way things were run here was a lot smoother than in any of the government camps. Everyone had their own responsibilities—their own little obligations to fulfill. Yet not a single person you passed by seemed unhappy.

On the contrary, everyone was joyful and full of life. It was almost too good to be true.

Meeting the Slip Kid was also an experience in and of itself. You should have known—it was ironic how you instantly recognized him, even though you've never actually seen him in your entire life.

But you were surrounded by posters of his younger self for the past six years, haunted by his lifeless eyes and pale skin.

Yet now, he seemed to be glowing.

Hwang Hyunjin was just as handsome in person as you would've expected.

His dewy skin glowed under the fluorescent lamp hanging in the middle of his room, his hair had grown out, dark brown tips now reaching his shoulders, and most importantly, his cherry lips were as plump as ever, still the same shade of pink.

“No way,” Jisung gasped, taking a step back. “You're the Slip Kid? B-But you're Hwang's son—”

“Nu-uh, save your inquiries for later,” Hyunjin tutted, pushing himself upwards into a standing position. “There's a lot I'd like to discuss with you.”

He then walked up to you, placing his hand on your shoulder as he scanned your face, smiling brightly as his eyes turned into little crescent moons. “I've heard a lot about you. You're Y/N, right?”

You were in shock, your entire body tensed as it refused to move a muscle. The way he was looking at you… it was weirdly unsettling and you weren't entirely sure why. You felt like you were stripped naked in front of him, vulnerable… almost as if he could see into your head and share your thoughts.

And then it hit you. He could.

Calmly, you grabbed his hand, gently taking it off your shoulder. “Yeah, that's me. How could you've heard anything about me though?”

“Oh,” he laughed, the sound dripping from his lips like honey. “I have my ways. I know everything, you know? Especially if it concerns the last undetected Orange.”

Then he turned around to face Chan, “ah. I know you too! You're Chris Bang, right? The most wanted kid in the country.”

When Chan refused to answer, his hand reached nack to pick up a stack of papers from the desk, rearranging them in his hands. “I must say, you guys will be a great addition to the team. We've been in dire need of a strong Blue.”

Turning around, you noticed the way Jisung shuffled his feet, heat rising to his cheeks as he looked away, clearly embarrassed. He must've been uncomfortable to be completely ignored and disregarded by Hyunjin, almost like he wasn't wanted here in the first place.

“See, they're offering a real' fortune for whoever brings you in.”

Chan scoffed, rolling his eyes at his words. He didn't like him, that was for sure. Hyunjin, who must've sensed the unease, placed the heap of papers back on the table as he gave Chan a mischievous smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“I must ask the three of you to wait outside for a few minutes. I'd like to discuss something in private with Y/N.”

Frowning, Chan looked him up and down, an unreadable expression playing on his lips. He still didn't want to let go of your hand and leave you alone with Hyunjin, but there was nothing he could do. He threw the taller boy a glare as he walked out of the room, Jisung and Seungmin following suit.

But before the door could slam in his face, he turned around, catching your gaze. The way his mouth quirked, you could tell what he was trying to convey.

‘Don't worry. I'll be outside, waiting…’

And the door slammed.

𝚡𝟷𝟽𝚡

Hyunjin's words were still echoing in your head as you walked out of the small building. The sunlight streaming through the cracks of the wooden rooftop illuminated your face, casting a gentle glow on your skin.

“Oh, hey,” you greeted Chan whose back was against the wall, looking up at the sky with his eyes closed. It looked like he was soaking up the sunlight, relishing in the rare moment of peace and tranquility.

“Hey, how did it go?”

Plopping on the ground next to where he was standing, you sighed, “I think it went okay. He asked me if he could train me though, as in like… help me hone my abilities.”

Chan's brows furrowed as he looked down at you, pulling his hands out of his pockets before sitting down beside you. “Isn't that a good thing though? I mean—you can already do some awesome shit but I can imagine how much your skills would improve if you had some guidance?”

When he noticed your skeptical expression, he elaborated, “trust me, I've been in your shoes before, unaware of all the things I could do before someone senior offered to help me.”

“I see your point,” you mumbled, casting your gaze into your lap, “but I'm still trying to finger out if what I'm doing is even morally acceptable. I need to know where to draw the line… how far can I go without being a monster?”

“Y/N,” Chan sighed, grabbing both your hands in his as he looked you in the eye. “You're not a monster, okay? And you never will be if you're simply protecting yourself. We all have to make do with what we have whether we've got the ability to slip into someone's mind, hurl a truck at them, or outsmart them with our super brain.”

You giggled at his reply, feeling a little better after hearing his reassuring words. “Thank you, Chan,” you whispered, leaning into his side and allowing your head to drop onto his shoulder.

With your warm body so close to him, Chan felt like his heart was about to explode inside of his chest. Smiling, he scooted a bit closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“No problem.”

And the two of you sat there in a comfortable silence until dinner was announced, neither of you wanting to get up. But then, as if on cue, your stomach let out a loud rumble, heat rising to the tips of your ears as Chan stifled a laugh, grabbing your hand and dragging your begrudging form along with him.

“C'mon. We need to feed that whale in your stomach, darlin'.”

𝚡𝟷𝟾𝚡

You've never felt so content and at peace as you did right now.

The night sky was clear, not a single cloud in sight as you watched the sunset cast a warm, golden glow. You were sitting around the massive bonfire, watching the flames lick away at the wooden planks pilled up in the middle, curled into Chan's side as his arm was wrapped tightly around your waist.

Everything felt so serene, you relished in the peace and welfare that Yellow Wood had so far offered you. Everyone seems so happy here, and it shocked you to no end how they managed to create such an atmosphere where you momentarily forgot about everything going on outside the fenced-in walls that guarded this place.

Almost as if the camps didn't exist in the first place — as if the Choi disease had never happened…

When the music started playing, everyone suddenly got up, beginning to dance to the summery track. You smiled—the mood was great, everybody clearly having a good time. If you could, you'd stop time and stay in this moment forever.

“C'mon, dance with me,” Chan grinned, standing up. He extended his hand towards you, like a true gentleman, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Would you do me the honors?”

Your eyes widened, you had to fight the urge to look back and make sure he wasn't talking to anyone else, before pointing at yourself with a shaky finger. “M-Me? You want to dance with me?”

Chan placed his hands on his hips, pretending to be deep in thought. “No. Actually, I wanted to dance with that really jacked dude that's standing a few feet behind you.”

“Hey!” you swatted his arm playfully, nervously biting your lip. “Stop being sarcastic all the time.”

“I'm sorry,” he broke out into a grin, rubbing the back of his neck. “You're just so easy to tease,”

You looked up, heat rising to your cheeks when you saw the lingering anticipation on his handsome face, the signature dimples appearing making an appearance. It was nearly impossible to say no to him, but for some reason, you were too anxious to come join him, instead murmuring, “I'm a terrible dancer. The last time I tried was on my ninth birthday.”

Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted into the air, the evening breeze grazing your skin. 

“It's okay,” Chan replied, gently carrying you through the sea of bodies, his movements precise and controlled. “I can lead.”

“C-Chan!”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he lowered you into his arms with a flick of his wrist, his hand gently settling on your waist as he began to sway to the music. “I-I… nevermind…” you whispered, everything in your head going blank.

The simmering air around you, combined with the heat from the flames, made your muscles turn into mush. If you could press pause and stay in a single moment for the rest of your life, it would be now.

“You okay now, darlin'?” he reached to brush the hair from your face, his thumb grazing against your lips.

“Yeah. Better than ever.”

Your fingers found the bare skin of his forearms, gently tracing the muscles and the overlying veins. His skin was so soft, save for the few bruises and scratches that decorated it. When his hand slid under your shirt, gently rubbing your lower back, you felt like your knees were about to buckle under your weight.

His hands were so warm and wide and his touch was electrifying. Almost as if a current passed through you, you shivered, pressing yourself closer to him.

As the melody of the track thumped through your body, Chan's steady hand managed to safely maneuver you through the heaps of people. The entire time, his gaze was fixed on you, eyes gazing into yours.

“God,” he murmured, strengthening his grip on your waist.

“What?”

“Did you know that you sometimes make me forget how to breathe?” he blew out a shaky breath, his facade crumbling right in front of your eyes. 

“I'm looking at you and it's like the only thought inside of my head is how much I want to kiss you.”

Your heart was beating inside of your ribcage and when you felt his breath fan over your cheek, you looked up at him and whispered, “so why don't you do it?”

And that's all the motivation Chan needed; his hand cupping the back of your neck as he pressed his lips against yours, sealing them with a kiss.

Chan was a great kisser, you've deduced that from the grand total of two times that the two of you had kissed. His lips molded against yours perfectly, finding the ideal rhythm and pace. 

When the two of you parted, you both had the dumbest smiles, giggles spilling from your lips.

“Wanna do that again?” his voice was shaky, still out of breath.

You grinned, placing your hand on his shoulder and pulling him closer to you. “Yeah, I'd love that.”

So Chan dove right back in, devouring your lips with his own as everything around you faded, leaving you to focus only on each other and the oxytocin coursing through your bodies.

𝚡𝟷𝟿𝚡

Your nerves were tingling as your hand reached for the doorknob. You weren't too excited to meet Hyunjin again, to be completely honest, but you knew it had to be done. Chan was right—honing your skills was important.

Plus, there also came the added bonus of Hyunjin agreeing to search through his network for Jeongin if you allowed him to train you…

It was oddly quiet and you wondered if he was even inside. Your question was answered when as soon as you knocked on the door, Hyunjin slammed it open.

He smiled breathlessly, his eyes turning into little crescent moons as he let you in, flushing when he realized that he was still in his PJs.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he mumbled, looking down at the oversized t-shirt and Garfield shorts. He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment but relaxed when he heard you giggle.

“It's okay, your shorts are kinda cute.”

You thanked him for holding the door open for you and walked inside. Looking around the room, you noticed the array of photos hanging on his wall—lots from his childhood and some that were more recent.

“We can sit on the bed,” he motioned towards the back of the room, leading you before settling on the springy mattress. You took off your shoes before joining him, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“Okay so the first thing I'd like to say is that you can ease your nerves, there's no need to be nervous or scared.”

Slowly, you unclenched your fists, not even realizing how tensed your muscles were. “S-Sorry.”

“It's okay—we're learning here. No need to apologize.”

He took a deep breath before continuing, “one of the most important things when it comes to getting out abilities under control is learning how they work. You need to know how to fight the intrusion if you want any hope of being able to do so safely and without any accidents.”

You shivered at his words, remembering the times when you erased yourself from the minds of your loved ones. Hyunjin, noticing your distress, reached to grab both your hands in his. 

“It happened to you before, didn't it?”

You could tell that he knew as he gave you a look of pity and understanding. Almost as if he'd been through it too, eradicating himself from the consciousness of someone close to him.

“Y-Yeah. Twice…”

Hyunjin cursed under his breath softly, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. “You're not alone. I had done it too back when I didn't even know what it meant to be an Orange.”

You smiled, anguish written all over your face as you whispered, “it sucks, doesn't it?”

“Yeah. And I'll make sure it'll never happen to you again.”

The first exercise Hyunjin gave you was to block him out of your mind when he tried to slip into your memories. It sounded like a simple task, but in reality, you felt completely powerless when you felt him clawing at your precious consciousness. 

“Build a wall around yourself, Y/N,” his voice managed to reach you, although you felt like you were slipping underwater, your mind foggy. “You need a visualization. Imagine there's a wall, curtain, door… or frankly any sort of barrier between the two of us.”

You frowned, closing your eyes as you swallowed down the ball of spit that had formed in your throat. You needed to focus.

Slowly, you began to picture a wooden door towering in front of you. In your mind, you forced yourself to extend your hand, pulling the door shut and turning the key. And bit by bit, you felt Hyunjin's intrusion fade out, no longer sensing the obtrusive presence of someone else in your head. The vulnerability you felt also disappeared as you gained some confidence after your successful defense, smiling to yourself.

“Good job!” Hyunjin cheered, positively beaming at the sight. “You've managed to do it on your first try! That's quite impressive.”

“Oh stop it,” you sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck. “I'm sure went easy on me.”

The guilty smile that appeared on his lips made you chuckle. “I didn't really go easy on you, per se… I just didn't fight back too much when you began to push me out. But it's important for you to get a feel of how it's like to fight off the intrusion, you know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense. But it was pretty exhausting to do if I'm being honest.”

Shuffling his legs, he threw them off the edge of the bed before answering. “It always is when you try it for the first time. But soon, it'll feel like second nature to you, so don't worry, okay?”

You nodded, joining him at the edge of the bed as you gazed outside the window, smiling when you saw everyone running around and having. A comfortable silence enveloped you, and from the corner of your eye, you caught Chan in the group, settled on one side of the beach volleyball field as he tossed the ball in the air and sent it flying over the net.

You silently cheered, a large grin appearing on your face as you followed the game intently, trying not to waver as Chan slipped his shirt off mid-game, continuing to play without it. Hyunjin chuckled when he saw your furrowed brows and the tiny pout on your lips, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“You can go watch them play, you know? We're done for today.”

Nearly jumping in your seat, you turned to him, embarrassment written all over your face when you realized that he caught you staring at Chan. “O-Okay. I'll head out then. Thanks for everything.”

“No problem,” he simpered, waving you off. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

𝚡𝟸𝟶𝚡

The following few days you stuck to the same routine, focusing on resting and your training with Hyunjin. He had insisted that you weren't assigned any job yet so as a result, you had quite a lot of free time.

Today, you woke up a little bit earlier than usual, the sun filtering through the wooden planks of the small sleeping cabin you were assigned. Stretching your arms above your head, you yawned, throwing your legs over the bed and walking out into the morning sun.

“Good morning, Sung,” you plopped down next to the boy, patting him on the shoulder.

“Mornin'.”

The tone of his voice immediately set off alarm bells in your head as you turned around to face him, barely catching a glimpse of the pained expression on his face. He looked like he hadn't slept at all if the dark circles under his eyes were anything to go by.

“You okay, buddy? You don't exactly look like you're happy…”

“I'm fine,” Jisung groaned, burying his head in between his legs.”I'm just… uh… I don't even know, honestly. I've been feeling pretty weird ever since we got here.”

“How come?” you inquired, your heart breaking at the sight. It was unusual to see Jisung so sad. Sure, he could get grumpy quite often, but you had never seen him so… so miserable.

“It's just that…” he blew out a shaky breath, running his hand through his hair. “I feel so… lonely here. Like I'm not even welcome. Almost no one here's a Green—which of course makes sense—we're least likely to escape from camp since we both don't have the powers nor are we in such imminent danger as the others—”

“Jisung,” you gently cut him off mid-ramble, cupping his cheek. “Look at me; it's okay, you don't have to explain yourself in such detail every time, okay? Just tell me why you're feeling down.”

“I just feel like there's no place for me here…”

“Hey,” the word came out shakier than you'd hoped it would, but you brushed it off, looking him in the eye. “There's always a place for you, alright? And even if it's not here, you'll always have us, remember? I care about you, Ji, I really do… Chan would die for you, and Seungmin… you're his hero, don't you see that?”

Your heart nearly cracked when you heard him sniffle. Jisung blushed, wiping his face into the sleeve of his hoodie and turning away from you in embarrassment. “Don't look at me,” he mumbled.

“Okay, I've gotta go now, Sung,” you sprang up, sending him a quick thumbs-up before trudging away. “See you later.”

“Yeah,” Jisung whispered, wiping away the tears from his face. “See ya!”

𝚡𝟸𝟷𝚡

On your way to Hyunjin, you passed Chan by the soccer field, your heart rate quickening at the sight. He was, once again, surrounded by at least a dozen of people, laughing as he effortlessly passed the ball while managing to stay focused and converse with the person on his right.

Your chest tightened uncomfortably. While you had always assumed that Chan was the popular and outgoing type, you were shocked nonetheless to see how quickly he had managed to form his own little group of friends in less than a week.

Honestly, you couldn't help the pang of jealousy blossoming inside you. 

You were looking forward to today's lesson; Hyunjin had promised you that he'd teach you how to undo the memory erasure—something that you desperately wanted to learn…

There was also the added bonus of his laptop sitting in the middle of his desk. It was the only technological device that could connect you with the outside world in the entire camp.

The lesson passed by in a blur, your mind still foggy as Hyunjin handed you a glass of water, patting you on the back.

“It's okay, you did well,” he praised, rubbing comforting circles onto your back as you gulped down the beverage. “It's a bit more complicated, especially since you don't have anyone to try it on…”

“I'm okay, don't worry,” you reassured him with a smile, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I'm just a bit out of breath, that's all.”

In the meantime, Hyunjin had walked up to his desk, plopping on the chair. He powered up his laptop, the shiny logo appearing on the screen illuminating his face.

“I got an email from one of my contacts in the morning,” he suddenly spoke up, catching your gaze. “I figured I should wait for you to read it though—it's about Jeongin.”

You tensed, feeling all the muscles in your body lock as you positioned yourself behind Hyunjin so that you were looking over his shoulder.

You felt your breath hitch when he clicked on the attachment, impatiently tapping your foot against the ground when the document lagged. When it finally loaded, you began skimming over the text, your frown deepening with every word that you read.

Towards the end, your eyes widened in disbelief, a single tear rolling down your cheek as you let out a shaky breath, clenching your fists.

“N-No… t-this can't be. I don't believe it!” you shouted as your eyes began to water. Hyunjin slowly stood up, a frown on his face as he rubbed your shoulder. “I'm really sorry…”

“I refuse to believe this,” you sniffed, not caring anymore that you looked pathetic with puffy eyes and watery cheeks. “This is not the Jeongin I know… he'd never do anything like this!”

“Y/N, I'm sorry but it's the truth and you need to accept it,” Hyunjin tried to grip your hand in hopes of comforting you but you tore it away, glaring at him. “How do you want me to accept that there's a fucking ten million dollar bounty placed on his head? And not only that!” you choked out, pointing a shaky finger at the screen and at the note under the ransom.”

“Dear or alive… they fucking offered 10 million for his corpse, for fuck's sake!”

With that, you stormed off, ignoring Hyunjin's pleas as you let the door slam behind you. You ran through the fields, stepping over the campfire site, sniffling at the thought of Jeongin. You were still in shock from what Hyunjin's email had contained.

It felt like someone just dumped a bucket of ice water on your head, you felt broken… miserable. All you wanted to do was just bury your head under your pillow and pretend that the last ten minutes of your life had never happened. But now that you knew, you couldn't just ignore it. 

Jeongin's life was in grave danger now that the bounty had been listed on the skip tracer network… it was only a matter of time before they'd all start looking for him, tracking him all over the country. His listing had beaten the previous highest ransom by a longshot—all the skip tracers who were focusing on Chan would now no doubt divert their attention and go after Jeongin.

You fumbled through the bushes, wiping away your tears as you inched closer to your little hut. In all honestly, you wanted to simply pack up your scarce belongings and disappear with the wind but your prayers were cut short as you heard a pair of loud voices.

You stumbled onto the tiny clearing in front of your assigned cottage, eyes blown wide as you watched Chan and Jisung engage in a very heated debate, the latter fuming with anger.

“Oh, hey, Y/N—wait, what happened?” Chan questioned, his voice cracking at the sight of you. You were a mess, to put it lightly, even Jisung frowned deeply at the sight, his eyebrows creasing.

“Are you okay?”

You ignored both of their questions, pushing past them to get through the door. There, you began to pull out all your stuff from the drawers, granted, you didn't own that many things, before shoving them into your little backpack. 

“Hey, darlin', please,” you could sense the desperation in tone. “Tell me what's wrong…”

You snapped your head to face him, ready to tell him off but the words died on your tongue. Watching the different emotions flash on his face, you felt your heart softening. It wasn't his fault after all, wasn't it? He had done nothing wrong…

You hadn't even realized that you began to cry again, tears streaming down your cheeks as you hiccuped into your sleeve, embarrassed that the two got to see you in such a state. Chan immediately rushed to your side, pulling you onto his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Shhh, it's okay,” he whispered, pulling you close to him as you sobbed into his t-shirt, no doubt staining the cotton with your tears. “Everything will be alright, don't worry.”

As cheesy as it sounded, Chan's soft reassurance and his gentle caresses managed to lull you into a state where you were able to think rationally, struggling only a little bit to get the words out of your mouth.

“I-It's Jeongin,” you murmured, hiding your head in the crook of his neck. “Hyunjin had managed to trace him.”

Gently running his hands down your sides, you felt oddly encouraged to continue, “there's a ten million dollar bounty on his head, Chan. Dead or alive…”

After uttering these words, you felt your heart constrict in your chest once again as you hiccuped. “A-And that's not even everything.”

Chan tried his best to hide his shock, not wanting to freak you out more than you already were, so he bit down his tongue to prevent the surprised gasp that threatened to leave his parted lips, instead burying his head into yours as he inhaled the sweet scent of your shampoo.

“H-He's not the same person he used to be, Channie. He's turned into a monster… I-I just, ugh—” you groaned, clutching onto his shirt tightly. You were both scared and frustrated at the same time.

“He apparently escaped with some other Yellows and they formed a tribe. But the reason there's such a high bounty over his head is because t-they'd,” you choked out, unable to produce a coherent sentence.

“They began attacking supply vans and killing the drivers in the process… I can't believe it. The Jeongin I knew—he'd never do such a thing!”

“You know, sometimes, the people we once knew do unspeakable things—that's just how it is,” Chan muttered under his breath, tilting your head so that you were looking him in the eye. “You can't take responsibility for other people's actions. As much as you'd like to believe it, you never truly know what each person is thinking. They could've had a reason that drove them to resort to such extreme measures, even if we don't agree, there's always reasoning behind one's actions.”

“But taking other people's lives?” you cried, your voice going an octave higher. “That's not right, no matter the circumstances.”

Chan held you in his arms for a few more minutes until you calmed down, suddenly pushing him away and getting off his lap. 

“Where are you going?” he asked, tone laced with panic as he watched your expression harden. You wiped away the remaining tears staining your cheeks before you got back to packing your bag.

“I'm leaving this place. I have to find Jeongin before he gets himself killed.”

There was no room for negotiation, Chan was sure of that. Behind your moist eyes blazed a fire, a strong, determined, and powerful fire that he couldn't put out. No. He had to add fuel to it for it to burn.

“We're coming with you.”

No. They couldn't. There was no way you'd allow them to go with you, no way in hell would you watch them leave the safe haven they've been dreaming about for so long.

You turned around to face him, and with lifeless eyes, you whispered, “no… you can't.”

It was more of a plea than a statement, your voice cracking terribly as you tried to control the onslaught of emotions. “Chan, please, you can't keep risking your lives for me, you know?”

“Well, you can't keep trying to run away from me. I'm not letting you go alone.”

You clutched the piece of clothing in your hand, lowering your gaze onto the ground. “I-I… t-this—this isn't gonna work, Chan…”

“Why?” his voice was suddenly louder, filled with fervor as walked up to you, grabbing your hands in his. “Give me one reason why we can't be together and I'll give you a hundred why we can. We can go anywhere you want. I'm not like your parents, I'm not going to abandon you or send you away, not ever.”

As if on cue, the door burst open, Jisung popping his head inside. “Min and I packed up our stuff. We're ready to go.”

You stared at them in disbelief, the words beginning to form at the tip of your tongue but Chan beat you to it, a grin already poking at his lips.

“See, you're not the only one that wants to leave this place. All four of us will go and help you find your friend, isn't that right?”

From the entrance, Jisung gave you a smile and Seungmin nodded aggressively, causing you to nearly tear up all over again. You were so touched that this little group of misfits that you've joined had become like family to you, willing to risk it all just to help you.

“Are you sure, guys? I-I mean… you can't take this back once you come…”

Chan slowly lifted his head and there was so much conviction in your eyes it made you dizzy. When he uttered the following words, it seemed to be the surest he'd ever been about something in his entire life.

“Let's go.”

After Chan had packed his small bag, the four of you walked out of the cabin, heading towards the main gate. A small group of kids stopped what they were doing to watch you, clearly having never witnessed people leave the camp.

When you arrived at the main gate, you were surprised to see a small group of armed people with guns slung over their shoulders clearly guarding the exit. They all tensed up when they saw you, immediately blocking your way as one of them spoke up.

“What do you want?”

Chan raised a brow, clearly not expecting any pushback. “Isn't it obvious? We're leaving.”

“That won't be possible,” another one replied icily, his hand reaching for his gun. “You need to first fill out a form and get it approved by the Slip Kid.”

“You're kidding?” Chan scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “You can't force us to stay here.”

Suddenly, a loud voice from behind said, “actually, we can.”

You snapped your head to look behind you, clearly taken aback. “Hyunjin? What the hell?”

The young man in question twirled a small dagger in his hand before getting a proper grip on it, looking you dead in the eye. “You see, we can't just let anybody leave this place. We have to make sure they'll actually survive out there on their own. And unless I want to be accused of being biased, I need to check for myself, don't you understand, sweetheart?”

You nearly shivered hearing the term of endearment fall from his lips. His tone was menacing and sly, nothing like the way he spoke to you for the past week. 

“So unless you want this to get ugly, I suggest the four of your go back to your cabins.”

Your expression hardened as you reciprocated his intense glare. “Yeah, that's not happening.”

Turning back, your eyes immediately caught Chan's, the two of you sharing a nod. He knew what this meant—you wouldn't go down without a fight. Yellow Wood clearly wasn't the place the four of you thought it was.

A cheshire grin tugged at his lips as he cracked his knuckles.

“Give ‘em hell, darlin’!”

a/n: hello <3 tysm for reading this far. if you've enjoyed, please consider letting me know and reblogging. I've spent two months working on this fic (including the entirety of my summer break so far...). feel free to ask any questions too :3 sending you my best wishes and i hope you stay safe :>

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

She Has No Idea (That I’m Even Here) - Chapter Four

Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader, one-sided Billy Hargrove x reader, side Nancy Wheeler x Robin Buckley

Work Summary:

Steve Harrington x reader Summer Camp AU with a side order of Billy Hargrove being a dick.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4387

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist: @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye @nix-rose @fandom-princess-forevermore

Taglist info

Previous Chapter

Notes:

Final Chapter!

warnings for slut shaming, bullying, slight ED themes, Jason Carver being a dick, Billy being slightly less of a dick, little bit of fighting/violence, ronance <3, jealousy, being kinda attracted to billy despite him being a dick, sex mentions, boner mentions, weed, (potentially underage?) drinking, hellcheer friendship, mentions of roofies (nothing dub- or non-con happens though), protective stevie, chrissy cunningham deserves to be happy, mentions of homophobia

---

The last couple of weeks of camp went by in a blur. Billy had avoided you since your awkward moment in the cafeteria, but you’d been so busy with activities and a surprisingly bustling social life that you hardly noticed.

Most evenings after dinner, some combination of Steve, Eddie, Jonathan and Argyle came to hang out in your cabin, which eventually got dubbed ‘the party cabin’. The staff turned a blind eye.

A few days before the camp closed at the end of summer, you and your cabinmates, plus Steve and Eddie, were playing a card game on the floor of the cabin. The windows were all open due to the sweltering heat.

Over the sounds of cicadas chirping and Steve shuffling the deck, there was a knock at the door.

“Probably Jonathan and Argyle,” you said, about to get to your feet, but Eddie was closer to the door so he made it there first.

It was not Jonathan and Argyle. On the doorstep was Jason Carver, flanked by his friends. He seemed taken aback to see Eddie.

“What the fuck are you doing in my girlfriend’s cabin, freak?” he snapped.

“I’m in my friends’ cabin, actually,” said Eddie. He didn’t back down, so Jason shoved past him to get in. Steve was on his feet immediately, blocking Jason’s path. You couldn’t help but notice that he’d positioned himself between Jason and all the girls in the room.

With considerably less grace, you got to your feet too.

“What’s your problem, man?” asked Steve, raising both hands placatingly.

Jason glared back at him. “Stay out of this, Harrington. I’ve been hearing whispers around camp that guys have been coming and going from this cabin a lot. I’m not okay with my girlfriend hanging out with other guys without telling me.”

“Without your permission, you mean?” you snarked back at him.

His gaze fixed on you then. You felt like he was trying a bore a hole right through you with his eyes. “I never said that.”

“Regardless. Chrissy isn’t only person in this cabin. We’ve all been hanging out with our friends in the evening. Chrissy hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Oh, so all of the guys are here to see you, are they?” He scoffed, looking you up and down. “Running a train on Y/N every night? I gotta tell you, it doesn’t surprise me that you turned out to be a massive sl-”

Jason didn’t get to finish his sentence, because Steve launched himself at him, pinning him to the wall.

“You keep your damn mouth shut, Carver,” he growled at him. Chance and Andy began to advance on Steve, but you stepped into the space between them. You could feel Eddie coming to stand at your other side.

“You need to get out of my cabin, right now,” you said.

Jason glared at you. “Or what?”

“Or I throw you out,” said Steve, redoubling his grip on Jason’s shirt. “You don’t get to just come into the girls’ cabins without asking, even if your girlfriend is staying there, asshole.”

Jason shoved back at Steve, who stumbled back, letting go of his shirt. Straightening up, Jason dusted himself off, a look of disgust on his face.

“I’m here because Chrissy has barely been talking to me, and now I know why. All you little satanic freaks have been poisoning her mind.”

“Jason.” Chrissy’s firm tone cut through the air. The room fell deadly silent. “They’re not freaks. They’re my friends. You need to leave now. I can’t date someone who acts like this.”

Jason’s face went white as a sheet. “Baby, wait-”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me. It’s over, Jason.”

His brow furrowed. He pushed Steve aside and made for Chrissy. “Baby, please, let’s talk about it.”

You stepped into his path. “She said it’s over, Carver. Move on.”

“This is none of your business, slut.” He barged past you, knocking you off balance. Steve caught your arm so you wouldn’t fall, and Eddie stepped in front of Jason. Steve was poised, ready to fight, but you put out a hand, trying to calm him.

“I’m not trying to steal Chrissy away from you, Carver,” said Eddie. “She doesn’t want you here anymore. So you should get lost.”

Jason looked over his shoulder at his friends for backup, but they looked uncertain. “We don’t want any trouble,” said Patrick. “Maybe we should leave?”

“I’m not going anywhere without Chrissy.”

“Jason… We should go.”

With his friends backing away, Jason didn’t seem so tough anymore. Both Steve and Eddie were taller than him, and it was clear that if it came down to a fight, Patrick, Andy and Chance weren’t going to get involved.

He glared at Chrissy, and then at Eddie, before turning on his heel and walking out the room. The door slammed behind him, making the whole cabin shake. You let out a shaky sigh of relief.

Behind you, you heard a strangled cry. You turned to see Chrissy with her hands over her face, shoulders shaking. Eddie knelt down beside her and put a tentative hand on her arm.

“It’s okay, he’s gone, you’re alright,” he said, and she shook her head, moving her hands. She was laughing. It was a strange, hysterical laughter, but it was better than her crying.

She wiped a stray tear away with the back of her hand and said, “I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks.”

Nancy put her arm around her and squeezed. “Proud of you.”

A moment later, there was another knock on the door. You tensed, but this time, it was only Argyle and Jonathan.

“I just ran into Carver and he told me to fuck off,” said Jonathan, sitting down next to Nancy. You watched Robin’s eyes dart between them.

“Thought you were gonna get schmacked,” said Argyle, grinning hazily.

“I just broke up with him,” said Chrissy, and then she giggled.

“I’ll cheers to that. Sounds like you’re in need of a celebration.” Argyle pulled out a little baggie of weed, some rolling papers and a grinder. Eddie not so subtly sat down next to him.

“You okay?” Steve murmured to you. “Thought Carver was about to start swinging.”

“I’m okay. Are you okay?”

“Wouldn’t be my first fight,” he said, smiling at you.

“I reckon you could actually take him.” Unlike Jonathan. Unlike Billy. You hadn’t been present for either of those beatdowns, but you’d seen the aftermath.

“Thanks for your faith in me.”

*

On the last evening of camp, after a day of activities, there was a party for the kids. The cafeteria tables had been rearranged to make space for a dance floor, and the whole place was decorated with streamers that you and Chrissy had spent hours meticulously putting up.

The tables were laid out with pizzas and soda, and a stereo had been brought in to play music. Nancy had been in charge of putting together a mixtape for the party; Eddie had also volunteered, but had been overruled.

Even though it was for the kids, it was fun. You ate pizza until your tummy hurt, sitting on the sidelines with Eddie and Chrissy, watching the kids doing their ridiculous dances in the middle of the open space.

Jason sat across the cafeteria from you with his friends, watching Chrissy instead of the kids that they were supposed to be chaperoning. It surprised you that Chrissy didn’t seem all that bothered by it. She just sipped on her soda and clapped along, encouraging the kids to dance.

You even managed to persuade Erica Sinclair to dance. Despite her confidence, she was pretty inhibited. She was afraid of seeming ‘uncool’ for even a second. So you stood up with Eddie and Chrissy and did a few ridiculous dance moves of your own, until you noticed her out of the corner of your eye, challenging her older brother to a dance off, the winner of which was highly contested. Mission accomplished.

Once the kids had all been sent back to their cabins – full of food and sugar and caffeine – the counsellors had a celebration of their own. Your ‘party cabin’ wasn’t big enough for everyone, so you gathered in a big clearing in the woods.

Argyle brought the weed, while Eddie had managed to source a crate of beer and a couple of bottles of vodka. Nancy had squirreled away the leftover soda from the kids’ party, which meant you could have mixed drinks. Steve and Robin had built a campfire, bickering about it the whole time. Even so, it turned out pretty well.

The staff had all turned in early for the night (though you suspected they may have been having their own party in Hopper’s office) and as such, you weren’t worried about getting caught. There was no music – no one wanted to risk drawing the attention of the campers – so the air was filled with the sounds of people talking and the campfire crackling.

You were glad to see that, while Jason’s three friends were here, Jason himself was not. You imagined that he was sulking in his cabin, pining over Chrissy. Good.

There was a big, smooth-looking rock at the edge of the clearing. You squatted down and dug your hands under it, trying to lift it. It was heavy, so you only managed to get it about a foot off the ground before one side tipped to the ground again.

“Need a hand?”

You looked up to see Billy standing over you. You straightened up immediately, letting the rock fall back into its original position.

“It’s fine.”

“Come on.” He gave you a half-smile. “Where were you trying to put it?”

“Near the fire.”

“Okay.” He bent down and heaved the rocked into your arms with considerably more grace than you had. His arms and abs clenched with the effort. “Show me where you want it.”

Feeling a little embarrassed, you led him back over to the fire and pointed to the spot you’d been eyeing up (close enough to feel its warmth, but not close enough to be bothered by the smoke). He lowered it into position and even straightened it up for you. You had a perfect little bench for one.

It was a warm night, so you slipped Steve’s hoody off your shoulders and lay it down on the rock for you to sit on.

Billy cleared his throat awkwardly. “What are you drinking?” he asked.

“Uhh… vodka lemonade?”

“Alright.” You watched him walk over to the tree that the drinks were being stored under and grab you a cup.

Normally, you weren’t sure you’d trust a drink prepared by Billy Hargrove, but you had just watched him make the whole thing, step by step. Besides, you knew that Nancy, Robin and Chrissy would never let you wander off with Billy even if he did slip something in your drink.

“What was the point of me bringing this all the way over here if you’re not even gonna sit?” he asked, gesturing at the rock good-humouredly. He had a beach chair under his arm and a can of beer squeezed in the crook of his elbow. “Or you could sit on this. It’s actually designed for sitting.”

“I prefer the rock. It’s more rugged.” You sat down and he passed you your cup. With a hand now free, he unfolded the beach chair, sat down and cracked open his beer. As he took a sip, you watched a bead of condensation roll down his chin.

His attractiveness was undeniable, but it was at times like this that you realised that he was beautiful. If he hadn’t treated you so badly for all these years, you probably would’ve thrown yourself at him that night at the cafeteria, in spite of your feelings for Steve. Unlike Steve, you were sure that Billy liked you.

But in the real world, Billy had spent years finding little ways to poke and prod at your insecurities, chipping away at your self-esteem. Had he liked you back then? Or did saving his life make him see you in a new light? Was his bullying all some kind of strategy to make you feel like you couldn’t do better than him, or had he been in denial, taking out his confusion at his own feelings on you?

It didn’t matter. He was an asshole. An apology, a drink, and moving a rock weren’t enough to make up for years of ill-treatment. Could you like him in the future? Maybe, but there was a lot more work to be done before that.

Steve had been an asshole once, and now you were head over heels for him. It stood to reason that, if people could change, your feelings about them could too.

“Are we gonna talk about what happened that night at the cafeteria?” you asked.

“I’m gonna need more beers before that.” He started to stand up, but you grabbed his forearm, and he froze.

“Sit down and start acting like an adult for once.”

He met your eyes and slowly lowered himself back into his chair. “What’s there to talk about? I got the message. You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Billy.”

In spite of everything, you found it hard to hate him. You knew that he’d moved out of his dad’s house as soon as he turned eighteen, and at that point, he’d changed. He wasn’t nearly so violent and volatile as he had been.

Of course, you’d never witnessed it yourself, but there had been rumours about his dad. That he’d hit him. And sometimes Billy would come to school sporting a shiner, and he’d tell everyone that he’d got into a fight, but you hadn’t been quite sure.

Maybe people are all products of their environment. Steve was only ‘King Steve’ in high school, surrounded by adoring admirers who were too sycophantic and cruel to tell him when he was being an asshole. Without those admirers, he was kind and caring and sweet and protective.

Maybe Billy was Billy because of his dad. But that didn’t change anything. He’d still done everything he’d done. He’d still tormented you for years and beaten the crap out of Steve and threatened to hurt Lucas for dating Max, and probably a lot of other stuff you didn’t know about.

Maybe someday he would stop being the boy who did those sorts of things. But he would always be the boy who had done those things.

“I don’t hate you. I just don’t want to date you. You’ve spent years making me feel like shit. How could anyone build a relationship out of that?”

Billy sighed. “I know I’ve fucked up. I know I have. But I’m trying to make it better.”

“Well, keep trying.” You took a deep swig of your drink. You were pleasantly surprised to find that Billy had even put ice in it.

“Alright, you don’t want to date me. How about we just have some fun? I could show you a real good time.” He leered at you, but you now saw this for what it was. He was falling back on a defence mechanism, acting like a perv to try and push you away. Or maybe he just really wanted to fuck you. Either way you leant back in disgust.

“No thanks. I’m not interested in having a ‘good time’ with you.”

“Because you’re in love with Harrington.”

“This has nothing to do with Steve!” you snapped, far too loudly. There was a lull in conversation as people turned to look at you. Your face was hot, from the fire, the booze or the embarrassment, you weren’t sure.

“You should probably tell him that. He’s been staring at me like he wants to kill me for the last five minutes.” Billy took a sip of his beer and nodded towards the edge of the clearing. You followed his gaze and saw Steve leaning against a tree, crushed beer can in his hand. When he saw you looking, he quickly looked away.

“I’m man enough to know when I’m beat. I hope he makes you happy,” said Billy. And with that, he stood up and patted you on the shoulder.

You realised with horror that he was walking over to Steve. Steve visibly tensed, but Billy just said something to him, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at you. Steve looked up and your eyes met. While you were looking at Steve, Billy tossed his beer can on the ground and walked off into the trees.

You had told Billy that none of this had anything to do with Steve, but you wondered if you had been wrong. Steve had been a constant presence this camp season, always there to feed you that little bit of hope that maybe you had a chance with him.

If you had truly believed that nothing could ever happen with Steve, if he hadn’t showered you with compliments and carried your trays and lent you his hoody as well as a hundred other little kindnesses, would you have let Billy kiss you?

There was a time when you had felt desperate to be loved. Billy had fueled that, with all of his insults and teasing that made you believe no one desired you. Maybe in another world, you would’ve been desperate enough to let him kiss you, and fuck you, and take whatever else he wanted from you because that’s all you thought you were worth.

But in this world, there was Steve. Steve let you know that it was okay to hope for better. To want someone who made you feel like you were worth wanting.

A moment after Billy disappeared, Steve pushed himself away from his tree and walked towards you. Your heart was starting to speed up. You drained the rest of your cup nervously.

“You want another one of those?” he asked you.

“Sure. Vodka lemonade, please.”

“I know. I watched Billy make it for you.”

He took your cup and went over to the drinks. Your eyes scanned the rest of the party, looking for your friends. Chrissy was smoking a joint with Eddie, Argyle and Jonathan. Her hair, normally tied back in a tight ponytail, hung loosely around her shoulders. She looked happy.

You looked around for Robin and Nancy, but couldn’t see them anywhere.

As Steve slid into the seat next to you, you asked him, “Have you seen Robin?”

He looked around and then leant closer to you. “She snuck off with Nancy a few minutes ago, after I told her to stop being such a dumbass about it. She had to take a couple of shots, but she did it.”

“You know about Robin?” you asked in disbelief.

“I’m the first person she told.” He grinned at you, looking proud. That surprised you. You knew that her and Steve were close, but you couldn’t imagine her confiding something like that in him. You supposed you knew them both less well than you thought. “And a couple of weeks ago, she told me that she’d told you too. She’d been so nervous, but she said you took it well.”

“Robin is my friend, no matter what.”

“Good. ‘Cause she’s my best friend, and I can’t be spending time with anyone who’d hurt her.”

“I’ll cheers to that,” you said, mimicking Argyle as you clinked your cup against his beer can.

“So, I see you gave Billy the bum’s rush.”

“I was nice about it!” you protested.

“Nicer than he deserved, I’ll bet.” His fingers tapped against the arm of his chair. You wanted to put your hand on his, but you were nowhere near drunk enough.

“He, uh… He tried to kiss me a few weeks ago. I didn’t let him.”

Steve swallowed a sip of beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. After a moment, he said, “Good.”

“Why’s that good?” you asked, hoping that you knew the answer.

“Because he’s an asshole.” Your heart sank a little, but then he said, “And you deserve better. You deserve someone who makes you feel you could tell them anything. Someone who won’t turn around and use your insecurities to hurt you.”

“Uh-huh. You got someone in mind?” You had almost finished your second drink now, and you were starting to feel a little bold. As Steve opened his mouth, a wave of anxiety overcame you, and you got to your feet. “I’m gonna go get another drink. You want one?”

“Sure.”

You expected him to wait for you, but after a moment, you realised that he was following you. As you poured a more generous helping of vodka into your cup, he said, “Can we talk? Somewhere more private?”

Afraid of what might come out of your mouth if you spoke, you just nodded.

You followed him through the trees, wondering how the fuck he managed to navigate through the thick foliage, until the two of you emerged into a familiar clearing. The big wide stump was waiting for you, looking enticing under the moonlight.

Steve didn’t sit down though. He took a big swig of his beer, swallowed, and then said, “I’ve been kinda messed up over you all summer. It’s been a long time since I felt this way about anyone.”

Your heart stuttered. Under the moonlight, his eyes were big and dark and bright as they stared into yours.

“Robin said I was being an idiot. And a hypocrite, because I was always telling her to shoot her shot with Nancy. Every time I was alone with you, I’d get so close to telling you how I felt, and every time, I clammed up. I was scared to make a fool of myself, which is stupid because I’ve been making a fool of myself in front of girls for years. Just ask Robin. She used to keep a tally of all the times I struck out. I wasn’t scared to put myself out there. But with you, it’s different. I was just so terrified that you’d turn me down. So I chickened out, every time.”

“Steve…” you breathed, unable to believe what you were hearing. Steve Harrington had thought you would turn him down. The world was upside down.

“But then you rejected Billy and I thought that maybe… well, maybe you might like me too? Even though every time I got close to you, you’d end up backing away. You were always the one who left first.”

“Because I was scared,” you said. “Scared that it was all a joke. Or that you were just being nice. Scared that I’d get too close and become too clingy and you’d think I was a gross creep or something.”

“I’d never think that.”

“Steve…” His name came out as half a laugh and half a sigh of relief. “I’ve had a crush on you since, like, fifth grade.”

The invisible bar that had been holding you at arms’ length from him seemed to collapse, hitting you right in the stomach. Steve crossed the distance in one stride and cupped your face in his hands. He kissed you, and you felt like stars were bursting inside you.

It was a sweet, gentle, chaste kiss at first, but you were a little tipsy and a little horny from the way Steve was touching you, so you kissed him back sloppily, licking at the inside of his mouth.

He responded in kind, hands touching you everywhere, trailing kisses down the column of your throat as you gasped for breath. He manoeuvred you both until your butt was pressed against the tree stump, his hands sliding up the outside of your thighs until they reached the hem of your shorts.

You kissed until you ran out of breath, and then you leant your head back, letting Steve nibble and suck at your neck. The moon stared back down at you, almost full. You wondered if the moon was making you crazy, or if it was just Steve making you feel like this, desperately grinding on him in the woods.

You hooked one leg over his hip, tugging him closer.

“We need to stop,” he panted, fingertips sliding up under your t-shirt. “Or else I’m gonna have a problem.”

“Feels like you already have a problem.” And it was true that you could feel him through his shorts, half-hard and pressed up against your leg.

He stilled. “As tempting as the idea of fucking you in the woods is,” your stomach swooped at the suggestion, “I want to take my time with you. Somewhere where no one is going to interrupt us.”

You swallowed and nodded. “Okay.”

A smile flitted across his face. “When camp is over, do you wanna go out with me?”

“Yeah, I really do.”

When you finally managed to drag yourselves away from each other, you helped each other straighten your clothes before heading back to the main party.

Nancy and Robin had re-emerged, sitting on a log by the fire, thigh to thigh and both looking very giggly. Nancy’s hair was messier than you’d ever seen it, and you thought that maybe you could see the trace of a hickey on Robin’s neck.

Your eyes met hers, and she stared at the way Steve’s arm was slung casually over your shoulder. She grinned at you, and you grinned back.

You passed by Eddie, who looked at you both with wide eyes and an excited smile. He was about to say something, but Steve raised a hand.

“Don’t you dare,” he warned, and Eddie raised both hands in surrender.

Steve’s hoody was still on the rock where you left it. You tried to offer it back to him, and he looked positively offended by the suggestion. He picked it up and draped it over your shoulders, and then sat down on the rock himself. You were about to sit in the chair beside it when he tugged you down to sit sideways across his lap.

“How are people gonna know you’re my girl if you’re not wearing my hoody?” My girl.

“Well, I think the fact I’m sitting in your lap right now might be a clue.”

“You’re so smart,” he said, grinning at you dopily. You couldn’t help but giggle. “My girl’s so smart.”

---

Notes:

Thank you for reading <3

[alpaca-clouds]

Something I will never understand...

Kinda based on what I wrote yesterday about the entire diferentiation...

You know, something I am never going to understand is the people, who will get super angry over any sort of adaption of whatever media they like. Putting Trevor in here, because I currently see it the most with Castlevania, but I might as well have put in here a gif of Lord of the Rings, the Witcher and what not. Because it is always the same. People, who have gotten to know a fandom through one form of media and then will spend so much effort into... hating any sort of adaption.

Heck, Witcher might be the best example, given that there are book fans hating on either games and Netflix series - and game fans hating the series. And... Probably also series fans who hate the games. And... I don't know.

And quite frankly, I don't get it. Because even if whatever adaption does not do it for you... So what? It did not take away from whatever the original medium you liked was. That medium did not vanish. The Witcher books did not vanish because of either adaption. Heck, contrary, they finally got translations into languages they did not get translated into before. The Castlevania games did not vanish because of the TV series. Same goes basically for any adaption. Chances are in fact quite good that a lot more people got into the original medium through the adaption - and that because of that the original medium was made more accessible to more people.

But guess what: People are gonna think twice about whether they actually want to engage with whatever the original medium was, when they got into the fandom through an adaption and all the fans of whatever original medium do is bash the adaption that made people fall in love with the franchise.

Sure, I get that at times it is frustrating when the adaption has more fans than the original medium and all you want is some fanwork and what not for the original medium.

Heck, Witcher is one of those cases for me. I read those books as a teenager and they mean the world to me. And it is not even as if I dislike any of the adaptions (well, except maybe the first game with its stupid "sexy card collection game" and what not), but I also will very firmly remain in the camp of "neither adaption quite gets the book and what it went for". And I absolutely have experienced people trying to argue something about that world and those characters... who have not read the books or even engaged with what theming there is in the games and series. But I... just ignore it.

I will watch the series as its own thing. And will play at least the second and third game on their own merrit. But yes, the books are my favorite. But... I do not spend time with hating on that stuff.

Heck, I could go on and on for hours about how I disliked what the MCU did with certain storylines frome the comics. But I don't (at least not unless someone asks me about it). Because it is just an absolute waste of time. I can rage about it, sure, but it will not change the way Disney is gonna produce those movies. All it would do is sour the mood for everyone else. The comics are still there. I can still read them. I do not need to watch Iron Man 3 or Avengers 2.

And sure... there are times, when I really get annoyed with adaptions. For example if they white wash and what not. Or just are plain bad (*coughs*Artemis Fowl*coughs*)... But why waste my time thinking and raging about something I do not like - rather than engaging with a thing I actually do like?

Maybe I am just too old for this kinda stuff. I don't know.

Kinda reminds me though of some of my old fandoms. Like Digimon or Pokémon, where with each new itaration people are gonna be up in arms about how much they hate the new thing and how much better old thing was. Going so far to just constantly attack folks who like new thing. Especially new fans, who find their way into the fandom through this.

And it is like... Yeah, you guys do a great job discouraging people from engaging with your fandom. Top. Amazing. Couldn't do it better.

I mean, sure, to me the Witcher games or the Witcher Netflix show will never reach the greatness of the books. But... to others they do. And that is fine. It is fine.

Because I know that telling those people: "You will actually never understand the greatness of the Witcher, because you like those silly games" will not get anyone to actually read or like the books.

[transyurikatsuki]

not that anyone really will see this BUT if i dont talk about this man I will fucking explode, anyway this is one of my tavs Azrael and i have about a million and one feelings about him because he has an overly complicated back story and I just think hes neat.

anyway hes a high elf sorcerer draconic bloodline (cold) and he used to be a fairly chill (ha) 'adventurer' for hire in baldurs gate, he wasnt super passionate about helping people but his power allowed him to work and that was that for him. anyway heres where we turn a little ridiculous but thats okay because I love him. basically he was killed (see scars: slit throat) and he doesnt know who or why, but he does have some fleeting memories to know that they then took his body and raised him from the dead and used him/controlled him as a puppet for years, and he woke up again on the nautiloid, in control of himself for the first time in years with basically no memories of all that time. basically hes got this story because I wanted him to have a lot of parallels and connections with the companions and these themes of trying to have control over yourself for the first time etc.

well when he woke up he definitely had some more necromantic powers whereas his original magic was mostly related to ice cause of his bloodline. and anyway because of the whole being a possessed corpse for years he kinda has a bit of a sore point with necromancers and the death gods and i hadnt even finished act 2 with my first character when I made Azrael so I had no idea just how relevant and bad act 2 would be for him. needless to say he immediately slaughtered balthazar upon meeting him. and also he felt calm and ready to fight with ketheric until ketherics line about killing you and raising your corpse and using it. at which point azrael went ummm a little berserk mode. all this to say he was in a very bad place at the end of act 2 learning about who is actually behind all this plot and so even though he was initially very anti tadpole, because of the whole "my body just became mine again and i have been dead before and I refuse to do it again" deal he has going on. well lets just say he was scared and not thinking straight and decided to eat a certain tadpole. he possibly regrets this already because people already thought he looked a bit scary and dead but whats done is done. hes a bit numb as we have entered the city.

anyway hes romancing astarion it was a bit of a rocky start for those two and they had a huge fight about the necromancy of thay but they eventually worked their way through it. and now they bond about being scared of their former masters finding them and a strange mixture of fear and gratefulness that the tadpoles broke the control. also for what its worth he had a hard time with gale initially but the scene where gale helped him reach into the weave like a wizard would was incredibly healing for him, considering he was a little scared of the way his magic had changed when he woke up.

now were in act 3 and hes a bit freaked to be in the city and his new camp best friend (he barely talks to her his emotional intelligence is not very high) is isobel because he is so excited to have someone to bond over being dead and then raised against their will.

if you read all this im giving you a kiss on the face and im telling you to please ask me questions about him because i care him so much

Edit: guess what I also want to show you all how he looked alive. I've made myself sad creating this. Note: more freckles, alive person skin tone, bluer eyes.

[beuatifulbuttercup]

Okay in your godly parents swap au I'd love to know more about Leo, Its such an interactive concept to put him with Bellona and the fact that people don't think hes roman enough or whatever? But his still really clever and has probably saved people's asses more times than they like to admit? Love that

Also Frank as a son of Hermes is also really interesting would love to hear more about that too

You're asking about my AU? I've waited YEARS for someone to ask me about my au.

(If you get that reference I love you)

We'll start with Leo because I feel like there's more to talk about with him.

Leo is the son of Bellona and is a member of the fifth cohort. He came to Camp Jupiter after the death of his mortal mother when he was eight.His best friends are the two Praetors Piper and Jason. Now he climbed the ranks with Piper to make it to Praetor status. He never really cared about being Praetor but was just there for Piper. During war games Leo would use the traps more as pranks to the other side instead of actually fighting. With that he used a dagger. Not a sword, not a spear, not even a shield, just a measly dagger he had since he was nine. That combined with him being in the fifth cohort and a "wild child" people didn't trust him with important decisions. However, he is his mother's son and is a great strategist. People were so focused on the prank part they didn't notice Piper shadow traveling behind them.

When they finally got close to the position of Praetor they realized that only one of them could be Praetor. Many excepted a battle of some sorts to see who would become the next Praetor. To their shock (?) Leo just kinda dropped out of the running allowing his very ambitious friend to get the job. However, Leo was allowed to become a Centurion instead. During these meetings he was surprisingly serious and had amazing battle strategies and knew a lot about wars.

During the Second Titan War Leo provided a lot of helpful advice to Camp Jupiter. When he was actually on the battle field for real his dagger was probably the most lethal weapon out there. He lived up to being the son of a war goddess. When he was out there he also used those pranks he got so good at using to distract monsters. Sadly many people didn't like this tactic so he got way less credit than he deserved.

When Piper went missing he was offered the role again but he declined AGAIN. Jason was weirdly disappointed by that. He became good friends with the new comers Percy and Hazel. He was able to tell that Hazel was from the past and that there was something about him that threw her off. He went on a quest with Hazel and Nico to Alaska. Only after him coming back did people finally recognize his talents.

Now he is also apart of the Tartarus duo in this AU. He falls in with Piper and the typical Tartarus stuff happens. When he leaves the first person to welcome him back was Jason who hugged him tighter than anyone has before.

Frank's turn :)

Frank Zhang was by no means a troubled kid. He was just a kid from Canada whose mom and grandma died. Sure he picked a couple locks here and there but it was never a lock of importance. Okay maybe one time he stole something from one of the kids at his school but thats just because he stole it from someone else. And sure he rigged the glitter bomb to explode during the pep rally but it wasn't even his idea! They bullied him into doing it, plus it was the school colors so it was on theme. That put him in a school for troubled kids. Eventually he'd been in so many that they called up a distant relative of his in Nevada and sent him there. They put him into the wilderness school where he met Reyna.

Reyna also probably should not have been there but Frank was happy she was. The two became close friends along with Piper. Little did they know all their memories of Piper were fake. Now when he left with Annabeth and Silena to go back to camp he was claimed by Hermes. In this AU the Cabin 9 Curse is the Cabin 11 Curse.

The cabin counselor, Malcolm Pace, explains to Frank that every single on of their pranks have failed since Micheal died. One of these was a fire breathing dragon that has been in the works since before Micheal died. Miranda, the former counselor, was on bed rest from this dragon. Frank doesn't know how to feel about that as his weakness is his very burnable stick. He does the Leo thing and gets the dragon back to running. He gets it not breathe fire but to breathe out glitter.

During his time at camp he never felt more at home. Lacy, Malcolm, Miranda, his other siblings and the unclaimed campers are so welcoming. When he came back from his quest Miranda and Malcolm made him a counselor. The first prank he played on the camp as initiation Lacy helped.

Later on he is a bit wary of Hazel, a daughter of Vulcan and fire user, but they grow and their love story stories.

If anyone has anymore questions about any character feel free to ask! Also I'm not writing this into a fic so feel free to steal my idea-

[torihakaraublog]

Obey Me! Nightbringer "The Great Devildom Outdoors" Pop Quiz

!SPOILER WARNING FOR THE EVENT AND THE OM! ANIME!

My thoughts on Beel-centric 2023 event! Includes mention of the Obey Me! anime.

Finally a Beel event!! The theme of camping wasen't a bad option, but the timeline if connected to the anime at all is a bit wonky (will explain more later). If you haven't seen the anime my guess is it takes place sometime durring the original game timeline. Basically the plot is MC takes a long trip to the human world and the brothers are a mess.

Okay these options make the most sense; Lucifer is stated in the anime as being a caping expert of sorts (whole episode on this), Levi probably saw a camping anime and would want to go, Bel obviously is going to support his brother and Simeon + Luke like trying new things.

Now where things get funky. It's implied in this event this is everyone's (except Beel) first time camping and they know very little about this. In the anime Lucifer is an experienced camper and takes Beel, Mammon, and Asmo camping with him one day for their first camping experience. The trio wants to enjoy their first camping experience and try new things, but Lucifer is so overbearing they all end up leaving. So I think it's safe to say this pop quiz event does not take place in the Anime! timeline. Unless this event is what gets Lucifer into camping (started doing it solo) and he just kind of ignores the fact Beel got him into camping as he is 'better at it.'

Anime Lucifer is unhinged for real tho.

Moving on the group is split into two teams; cooking and food prep. I got to help with the tent! I appreciate it was a pop up one xD

Yes, yes! Solo trip with Beel! This is what I wanted!! Tho I'm not sure I agree with their definition of glamping? It seemed more like going to a rustic resort that offers activity and meal services. Where I live glamping is often referred to using a nice trailer instead of a tent to go camping.

These moment's here officer these are the moments that made my heart squeel. I dry him off and we are SHARING A BED.

All the food sounded really yummy! It was particularly preped and we assembled + cooked? This choice above was kinda weird tho? It's in response to Beel saying the ingredients look good enough to eat raw. I picked the bottom option cause a lot of the ingredients could be eaten raw (not the srimp).

Going to the lake with fireflies was so cool! Very beautiful :3 and Beel saw a shooting star.

I always try to never shame/bring down, Beel for being hungry as he has little control over it. I picked to have a pastry in my bag instead of candy because irl I often have some kind of, bread, muffins, crackers in my bag as back up.

picked the top option cause I just have trouble sleeping in general and often the location dosen't have any impact. Though my perfered sleeping spots are cars and nice hotel beds xD

Beel you can't say such a suggestive thing while we are sleeping away together >_<.

(This isn't the whole interaction- more a note to myself that I have more photos saved)

Aaa-a kiss?! As much as I was feeling the option in the moment I was playing I still went with the top one cause that's something I would be more likely ask for even if I wanted the kiss (*cries in lonely irl person, but not lonely MC*)

Please someone cuddle with me!!

The other root was camping on the lawn which was fun! Luke put our tent up all by himself! I was not allowed to eat burnt food xD It's not specified what we are eating here.

Overall I greatly enjoyed the event. But I do think this could have also been framed as a Lucifer event to match some existing lore (to be fair I have not completed the og game so maybe it makes more sense with that context) and Beel's event could have been one of the past events, specifically the fangol one.

Foods Mentioned

Lava Cheese Fondue (Made By Levi)

Clam Risotto (Made by Simeon + Lucifer)

Black Tapir (Glamping)

Bone-in Sausage (Glamping)

Garlic Fried Shrimp (Glamping)

Seasonal Vegetable Salad (Glamping)

Paella (Glamping)

Crème Brulee (Glamping)

[ben-the-hyena]

Remember them I talked about some days ago how they looked adorable together ?

And how I also noted that somebody had me realize she was the female singer during the I2I number ?

Well I went to check myself and notably indeed it IS her with the same hair color under the hairnet

And she even has her hubby's pic which is even more adorable

I also noticed HE IS ONE OF THE MUSICIANS

The whole time this cute couple was working with Powerline and going to LA, but having a week long romantic gateaway together as the husband sings in On the Open Road because they want to camp in nature alone together which is their definition of romance as his lyrics hint at before going back to work. Both have music-related jobs and work together. You know they met and fell in love thanks to music and must sing and play music together and did during they week gateaway before the weekend

No I am not too invested in nameless characters who only have a few sung lines

To prove it, I am just gonna leave this here : HC this other musician is their son. Music family. He is a brunette and big like the wife too and kinda has the same faceshape, looks younger than the husband therefore probably the wife too, plus this can make a fun parralel to the "father-son" theme of the movie. He wasn't with them because he is a full grown adult with his own life