#seeing paintings or whatever of him when he was young makes her wish he wasn’t bald though

[otvlanga]

serious question: do you think neloth is actually bald or just shaves his hair?

I have wondered this myself forever and I honestly don’t know. I know he was bald in Morrowind as well as Skyrim so it might be possible that he’s just straight up bald because he’s old. If he isn’t naturally bald then it’s more likely that he’s created some sort of spell of potion to stop his hair growth because let’s be honest, do you really think he’s gonna bother having to constantly shave his head every month or so to stay bald? Such menial tasks are too time consuming for him.

My silly little personal head canon is that he had luxurious, beautiful wizard hair in his prime, but a faulty experimental spell accidentally turned it into snakes, and all the Telvanni laughed and teased him for decades. He was so humiliated and mortified that he just vowed to stay bald for the rest of his life, so that such an accident may never happen again. Once he approached his golden years, he naturally went bald and no longer had to worry about constant hair removal ✨

[scwheeler]

— how to get a girl’s attention

luke castellan x fem!daughter of demeter!reader

warnings: near-drowning experience…

summary: as the daughter of demeter, you’re the first person that everyone turns to when injuries need to be tended too, questions need to be asked, and any type of advice is required, however what’s going to happen when you’re the one in need?

a/n: this one’s quite lengthy guys! i really just got derailed like ten times and love adding details and the ending is kind of basic but whatever; don’t mind me making up random camper names btw lol 👼👼

waking up to the sound of constant bickering was just a normal tuesday morning as your younger half-siblings were already at each other’s throats about some stupid thing. yesterday it was borrowing boots and the day before it was who had to take the trash out.

you groaned, wishing that you could still sleep in peace and quiet but your cabin clearly suggested otherwise. so you gradually got up and put on your little slippers, approaching the main fighters who continued to argue with each other.

“hey hey hey, what’s going on now.” you had to physically get between the two children, separating them with your arms.

“he slipped paint all over my skirt and now it’s ruined!” the young girl cried, holding up her stained skirt to prove it. you took the clothing in your hands and knelt down to face her.

“why don’t i go to the river later today and try to get the stain out myself. it seems washable to me, what do you think?”

with a slight frown, she nodded her head to comply. you were relieved to say the least before turning to the boy, “how about you apologize and come with me to the river after breakfast?”

the boy stayed silent with his arms crossed, trying to avoid your insisting stare. but intimidated enough, he looked to the floor and whispered a small “fine, i’m sorry” with a glare.

you smiled as the situation was deescalated and told the rest of the kids surrounding the pair to hurry and make their beds in order to head to breakfast.

holding hands with the now puffy-faced girl, you tried to tell her about all the fun activities she could do today to forget about the unfortunate morning incident.

before reaching mess hall, the child already had a a bright smile just thinking about the bracelet making and embroidery you promised for the later evening. pleased with your peace-making skills, you sat with the rest of your campers and half-siblings that you were in charge of.

as the eldest sibling and one of the camp counselors, you took on the responsibility of looking after the young ones and caring for almost everyone at camp.

thus, when most of the camp half-blood children had troubles or dilemmas of any sort, they would disregard their own counselors and go straight to you. your kindhearted, yet sociable personality rooted from your mother: demeter.

you were often found laying around in the fruit fields or by the river listening to the water flow through the ground and hit the rocks. like your mother, nature was where you felt at peace, especially with the lack of quiet in your own cabin.

but you still loved your fellow campers and half-siblings, except for one boy who would not leave you alone.

luke castellan.

he liked to push your buttons and see how far he could take you until you’d explode. of course, you always kept your calm until either you just left the conversation or it would be interrupted by a camper in need who was like a knight in shining armor.

it wasn’t that you didn’t like the guy. you liked everyone at camp, including mr. d for gods sake! but something about luke was different. you occasionally saw him with his campers or his friends, he would joke around but never act like he does with you.

when you least expect it, he sneaks up behind you and gets close enough to whisper something in your ear. it could be just a random comment or sentence started but in an alluring voice as if you were friends or even more.

he knows what he’s doing. the moment he finishes, you flinch and get flustered, cheeks heating up and instantly standing up to avoid making eye contact. as you walk away, luke only watches and smiles to himself.

he knows how much power he holds over you, as with just a few words he can make you nervous.

“okay so once everyone’s done, we’ll first go to the archery range and you’ll stay there with counselor clarisse while damien and i go to the river to get that nasty stain out.” you explained and first looked at the boy who begrudgingly agreed to helping you earlier and then winked at the little girl you promised to help.

“counselor clarisse…!” one of the boys exclaimed.

“oh no she’s the mean one!” “yeah, she’s a bully!” your campers all started to agree and mutter remarks about their fear in staying with clarisse.

you couldn’t help but chuckle at their scared little faces, “clarisse? oh gods no! clarisse is not scary, she loves you guys and she’ll take good care of you.”

the children stared at you in disbelief while chowing down their eggs and bacon. “why can’t we just come with you to the river?!” one of the girls begged and began to pout alongside the other ten kids beside her.

you sighed and pursed your lips into a thin line, trying to come up with a compromise but you couldn’t.

“please it’s only for a couple of hours and then i’ll be back for the rock wall and some capture the flag!” you persuaded, trying to lighten up the mood.

but the kids still looked dissatisfied, now poking their breakfast around with their utensils in objection.

“well—” before you could plead another case why clarisse is a perfectly reasonable and responsible counselor and guardian, you were cut off by the one and only.

“aw don’t worry guys, you should listen to your counselor. plus i’ll be there too so if counselor clarisse gets even just a little too scary, you can come and hang with awesome counselor luke!” a voice announced from behind you.

you nearly choked on your food, startled in the surprise voice cutting you off. but the campers were overjoyed to see their second favorite counselor appear. there were an overwhelming amount of comments from the once so silent children, mostly regarding “luke!” and “yay!”

you whipped your head around to face the boy, standing right behind you with nothing but a smug grin on his face. then he leaned in just as he always does and whispered a quick, “you’re welcome” and turned to leave just as fast as he came.

“can we please hang out with counselor luke instead of clarisse?!” all the campers plead with their hands put together and lower lip puckered. left with no other choice by that damn castellan again, you inhaled deeply and slightly nodded which was shortly followed by an array of cheers and excitement.

after dropping off all of the campers in the hands of luke, you put a hand on damien’s back and led him to the river. but before leaving, you had to make sure luke would actually clock in as a responsible counselor.

“so i can count on you to keep them safe for the next couple of hours?”

“wow you sound like you doubt me!” luke said and took a step back with his hands up in fake surrender.

“enough with the games, castellan. are you going to make sure they don’t kill each other and stay unharmed until i return?” you asked again, ignoring his previous comment.

luke tried to hold back his smile after you called him by his last name. most of the time, his sparring partners or other counselors would use his last name rather his first. however, when the way you let the ‘n’ slightly my drag after saying it sent chills throughout his entire body.

to hide his delight, he lightly scoffed and crossed his arms at your hesitation. “i assure you that i will protect them with my life. i mean i am the best swordsman at camp,” he added as the corners of his lips just couldn’t help themselves to lift a little.

you rolled your eyes at his self-confidence and how he kept complimenting himself. luke only did it to impress you though, something that hasn’t been very successful.

“okay well alissa has a nut allergy, georgie has a bee allergy, and please keep thomas and will away from the poison ivy. i do not want to spend another summer knee deep in tomato juice.”

luke could only watch and admire as you kept expressing your deep concern for all the kids. he loved how much you cared. but a few more seconds and you would be driving yourself crazy over all the possibilities of something going wrong.

that’s when luke stepped in and softly grabbed your right arm.

“hey, it’s fine. go do whatever you have to do and i’ll come running down to the river if anything goes wrong but i doubt it, i’m pretty responsible y’know.” he reassured and stared straight into your eyes, indicating his sincerity. his smile wasn’t conceited or to drive his ego but rather held a tender emotion.

you looked up into his hazel eyes and suddenly the worries stopped and your nerves were calmed, other than the ones beginning to stir in your stomach. but this was far from the regard about the kids.

this feeling was something else. something new.

“are we going to go already?” the young boy you almost forgot about, whined and rugged on your orange camp t-shirt.

snapping out of your trance and back to reality you answered, “o-oh yeah, i think counselor luke’s got it from here.”

with that you turned away from luke and immediately headed for the river alongside damien but the paint-stained skirt was farthest from your mind now. you tried to shake the new feelings and thoughts out of your body and replace them with your past ones of the kids.

until, “is that guy your boyfriend?”

you quickly looked down to the boy asking the question, with such seriousness in his eyes.

“counselor luke? gods no! i wouldn’t even call him a friend!” you answered swiftly, picking up your pace and hurrying damien in front of you.

“geez…i was just asking!”

as soon as you two got to the river, settling on a few rocks by the edge, you started rubbing the blue-stained skirt with the clear water. damien sat next to you, fiddling his thumbs and staring at the water’s constant movement.

“so are you going to tell me why you did this or not?” you began, keeping your eyes on the skirt.

“i just wanted to.”

“damien.” you urged and this time, you stared directly at him with your eyebrows raised.

he sighed in defeat and gave up on lying to you.

“okay…well i just didn’t know how else to get clara’s attention,” the boy admitted and refused to look at you.

his response warned your heart and prompted your to smile to yourself.

“so you did this, just to get clara’s attention?”

you held up the now drenched skirt and demanded damien to look at you. for a moment, he did and nodded quickly before instantly going back to staring at the rock he was sitting on.

you stifled your laughter at how adorable the young boy you were with was being.

“damien…there are a lot of different and more efficient ways to get clara’s attention. may a suggest one that doesn’t destroy her belongings and ends up with her being angry?” you insisted and squeezed the excess water out of the skirt.

he looked up and nodded again but this time he continued.

“what should i do?”

“why don’t you make her a bracelet when we go back and sincerely apologize.” you suggested while laying out the wet skirt on the rock to dry.

he smiled at your suggestion as you went to sit closer by him. before speaking again, he pulled out a small daisy from his pant pocket and presented it to you.

your eyes focused on the blooming flower that lost a few of its petals due to being stuck in the boy’s pocket for a while now. but the remaining petals still standing were enough to maintain the flower’s beauty.

“when did you become such a gentlemen?” you nudged his shoulder and took the flower from his hands.

“oh, i’ve been giving him some lessons.”

alarmed, you turned to see the familiar face that had been surprising you all day.

“what are you doing here?! how about the kids—who’s watching them?!” you immediately stood up and marched towards the too calm figure standing amongst the trees. but he caught you with both arms, preventing you with ease.

“woah woah, take a breather, they’re with clarisse.” he said and stopped you before you ran back to the mess hall.

reading your expression, luke could tell you were not convinced nor pleased so he had to fix his answer.

“—and annabeth and chris.”

with that you stopped fighting against his grasp and stepped back, finally exhaling.

“you haven’t answered my first question.”

“oh! i just uh wanted to um come and tell you that they’re asking for damien back at camp. they were practically begging me to come over here and get him!”

you narrowed your eyes after he finished, easily indicating the lie.

“okay…you can go damien but remember what i said,” you smiled and patted his shoulder before sending him off back to camp.

the young boy ran off without a care and ready to make that bracelet with a formal apology. luke stood there, quite surprised that his lie that chris helped him think of in fact worked.

“soooo do you need help with whatever that is?” luke pointed at the skirt laid out on the rock.

“no.” you shortly responded and walked back to your rock but luke followed like a lost puppy.

“are you sure? i mean as head counselor for cabin 11, i can cook up a mean batch of laundry,” he insisted and trailed behind you.

unbeknownst to him, you rolled your eyes and cringed at his wording.

“your words don’t even make sense.”

caught in a lie, luke decided actions spoke louder than words and walked past you to the skirt. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as he picked it up and crouched down near the water before dunking it back into the water.

shocked and a little annoyed, you hurriedly ran to him.

“what the hell are you doing?! i just washed that! i’m waiting for it to dry dumbass!”

“oh she curses!” he exclaimed, finally getting a real response from you.

you reached for it until luke raised it a little higher, just out of your reach. using his height as an advantage, he held out the clothing as far as he could and to the river.

fed up and exhausted, you went on your tippy-toes and lunged for the skirt. swiftly, luke pulled it close to his body just as you reached leading you to accidentally lean too far.

with a splash, you fell straight into the freezing cold water, unknown to how deep the river was. luke’s eyes widened, he thought you falling in would be funny but once you hadn’t resurfaced within a few seconds he became worried.

without a second thought, he dropped the skirt, pulled off his camp shirt, and dove into the biting waves. as soon as he saw your bright orange t-shirt in contrast to the clear water, he put his arm around your waist and swim towards the surface.

pulling you out to the rocks and laying your body on the ground, he waited for you to gain consciousness. luckily, you started to gasp for air and spit out gulps of water as you sat up.

luke sighed in relief at once. you wiped your face of water and blinked repeatedly until your sight returned to normal. then your eyes were fixated on something else, rather someone. his bare chest stood directly in front of your face, it wasn’t like you were trying to stare!

“i’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to do that and i’m really sorry.” luke recited.

“i-it’s okay.” you stuttered, the cold water chilling your body.

“here take off the wet one and take mine.”

luke grabbed his discarded camp shirt and handed it to you. if you weren’t on the verge of frostbite you would’ve refused, but without another word you agreed and luke turned to face the trees as you pulled the wet shirt over your head and put on luke’s.

“thanks. for saving me and the shirt.”

luke turned back to face you and smiled, “i mean i was the one to make you fall into the water in the first place, it’s the least i can do.”

“aren’t you cold?” you signaled to his bare chest.

“no, i’m okay don’t worry. but your jeans are still wet so let’s head back to camp.” he reassured and helped you get up.

you nodded and let him take the lead. with your wet shirt and skirt in one hand and the other grabbing onto luke’s arm, you two finally made it back to camp. before dropping you off at your cabin, you had to ask.

“why did you come to the river anyway?”

luke awkwardly put his hand on the back of his neck and looked away.

“oh. i just uh wanted to spend time with you.” he admitted, ultimately facing you.

you stopped attending to your dripping pants and looked up at him. he had a genuine smile, now with both hands shoved into his pockets.

how was it that you had never noticed the golden flecks in his deep brown eyes? or the way the orange hues of the sunset highlighted the amber shade his eyes would turn?

“y’know, there are a lot of other ways to get my attention in the first place, that doesn’t involve us falling into freezing cold water.”

luke laughed at your comment which eased the awkward air.

“i had this almost exact same conversation with a little boy of about seven years, and gave him some valuable advice.”

“what was the advice..?” he carefully asked.

“to make her a bracelet and apologize, one of…you’ve already done profusely.” you raised your eyebrow to imply his previous attempt in apologizing nonstop.

“ah, a bracelet you say, okay got it,” luke said and nodded his head.

with that, he bid you a good day and you asked to meet him later at the campfire to return his shirt.

“alright you two sit there, i don’t want to see anymore fighting over the dinosaurs, you can sit here with him, and you three over there—” guiding the campers for the campfire that was just about to begin, you made your way to an empty bench.

smiling to yourself, you watched as your campers finally calmed down and enjoyed the music, giving up on fighting and arguing with one another. someone jumped over the bench and leaned back to sit right next to you, and you had a feeling who it may be.

“luke?”

“yes ma’am.” he replied with a tilt towards you and two fingers from his head.

the campfire lit up his face and highlighted his sharp features that you had somehow missed until this moment. his charming smile urging his dimples alongside his dark curls freshly washed with a new scented shampoo was enough to make you realize you were hooked. damn.

“oh i have a little something for you, give me your arm and close your eyes,” he spoke up and put his hand in his pocket.

raised eyebrow, you reluctantly closed your eyes and gave him your right arm. suddenly in fear of some bug or scary animal on your hand, you slowly retracted it back to yourself until he gently got a hold of it.

he pulled your arm towards him slightly and slipped something on around your wrist. waiting for his approval, you sat questioning what the mystery item could be.

“okay, open.” luke did a little ‘ta-da’ motion once you flickered your eyes open, adjusting to the dark yet orangish lit surrounding.

you looked down at the intricate, handsome bracelet that appeared on your wrist. it was similar to the camp necklaces but the beads were translucent with flowers imbedded into them. except for one bead that was painted a heavenly green, your favorite color.

astonished and at a loss for words, you observed the bracelet, moving around the small beads on the string.

“i’m sorry.”

snapping out of your trance, you instantly stared up at luke after his words in confusion.

“what?”

“you said earlier, ‘there are a lot of other ways to spend time with you that don’t involve us falling into freezing cold water, for starters make a bracelet and apologize.’” he repeated your words from back by your cabin. he remembered.

“so you made me a bracelet and apologize just like i said?” double-checking, you glanced once at the bracelet and back to the dashing boy who looked as if he had stars in his eyes, waiting for your reaction.

“not only for you, i also helped damien make one for that girl he’s got a crush on,” he continued and looked over to the little boy doing the exact same hold-out-your-arm-and-close-your-eyes trick on the girl sobbing about her stained skirt earlier.

she opened her eyes to a freshly washed skirt and matching bracelet, along with a smiling boy who was apologizing and waiting for her reaction. she leapt into his arms with a bunch of ‘thank yous.’ the boy then briefly peered at luke who proceeded to wink and give an approving nod.

happily surprised, you sat gaping at the boy you thought was so infuriating just a couple of hours before. luke knew exactly what he was doing. he knew how much you cared for the campers and your half-siblings, how you would always chose their safety and happiness at the expense of your very own.

it was one of the traits he admired the most about you. even when in a bad mood or not feeling your best, you would put on a brave face and make sure to put their needs in front of you own.

he witnessed it first-hand last week when your campers wanted to go rock climbing but there were dozens of poison ivy already there. thus, to not disappoint the kids, you stayed up all night removing the dangerous plant and relocating them to another area deep in the forest for them to grow.

even with your plant manipulation abilities, with the large amount of the poisonous plant, it took you quite a while. afterwards, you went as far to replace them with lovely daisies you summoned from the gardens in front of your cabin.

during the move from the rock climbing course to the forest, luke had spotted you while some late-night sword practicing because he couldn’t sleep due to apollo cabin next door.

he debated approaching you and settled on only admiring you from afar after you almost finished anyway. he didn’t want to disturb you or aggravate you further than you already were. but leaving you here in the forest during midnight would be wrong.

what if a monster were to come? how were you to defend yourself if you were distracted! therefore, it was just common sense that luke had to keep watch, i mean he even had his sword with him after all.

but once the sun peeped from the tall mountains, he came to a realization that he had just sat and watched you for more than a couple hours. so in order to not get caught, he ran off back to his cabin before anyone would wake up.

only a little after luke headed to bed, morning arrived and you were the first one to break the happy news to your campers that today would be the day for rock climbing. greatly proud and feeling accomplished, you even invited other cabins to join and have a spin at it. including luke’s.

now he was the one to show you how much he cared for the campers as well, focusing on a feature you had great respects for. your shocked expression softened and now leapt into his arms.

“thank you, castellan. really.”

blood rushed to his cheeks and he tried to hide his excitement, but you felt his genuine smile on your shoulder. before pulling away, he stopped by your ear and whispered.

“do i have permission to kiss you, counselor?”

you could’ve giggled at his words and how close his lips were to your ear. without wasting another breath, you pulled his face closer to you and put your lips on his.

feeling the warmth of his breath, you could taste the sweet taste of strawberries he must’ve eaten earlier. only centimeters away, your bodies were attracted to each other almost pressing. the kiss wasn’t long but not short either, somewhat leaving a lasting impression on the other.

yet again you felt a small grin of his lips during the kiss, making you pull away for air. but your eyes were still glued to his, moments away from repeating the act but you both realized where you were and how irresponsible it would look as counselors. so instead he grabbed your hand, now giving you the absolute cutest puppy dog eyes before asking.

“do i have your attention now?”

[ickadori]

++ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐔

[summary] your parents have no place in getou’s new world, but you do.

[cws] fem reader. death. murder -> getou is killing your monkey as parents, but it’s not described, just hinted at! yandere vibes but i didn’t lean into it heavy. mentions of getou’s past crimes (village slaughtering/killing his parents). hinted that reader used to like getou. unedited.

“You can’t be here.”

If your body hadn’t locked up in fear, you would have given yourself a pat on the back for keeping your voice so steady despite the panic curdling in your chest at the sight of Getou Suguru standing on your doorstep—your parent’s doorstep.

“I can’t visit my dear old friend? We are friends, aren’t we?” No, you had stopped being friends with him the moment you heard of what he did to his parents—no, not even then, because you couldn’t believe it at first.

“Getou Suguru killed the people of the village, as well as his parents.”

You had balked when Yaga first said those words to you, and then you had spat venom as you vehemently denounced the claim. I mean, it was Getou. He wouldn’t—he couldn’t. Someone had gotten something terribly, terribly wrong. He wasn’t that kind of person, he wasn’t evil.

There had to have been some kind of mishap — an anomaly. Perhaps his technique had failed and one of his curses had turned against him and killed the villagers, and he was powerless to stop it. Or maybe there had been some kind of colluding - it wouldn’t be the first time that the higher-ups pulled a nasty, underhanded tactic for their own hidden agendas.

But then Gojo had come to you with bloodshot eyes and wild hair, and you had known it was true, even though the both of you had desperately wished it wouldn’t.

Even then, with the confirmation that Getou had turned his blade against the people you all had spent your life training to protect, you still hadn’t turned your back on him…until you had seen the state of his childhood home.

The walls, once painted a a soft cream, had been stained a dark red, splatters of blood stretched high up to the ceilings. The pictures on the walls that contained images of a young Geto positioned in between his parents, beaming smiles on all of their faces, had been smashed beyond recognition. The recliner that you vividly remember seeing his father napping in, book laid on his chest and glasses slipping down his nose, had been flipped, the fabric slashed to shreds and the cushion spilling out. His mother’s apron, a gift that you had given her one year for her birthday, had laid in bloody tatters next to it.

You would have thought he hated them with the savage way he had killed them (didn’t he, though? Was this his way of showing you all just how serious he was?), he hadn’t even left behind a piece of bone to properly identify them, and the implication that he had let the curses he hosted consume them had made you sick to your stomach.

That’s when you began to hate Suguru Getou, but even more than that, you began to fear him.

“No, we’re not.” Whatever steel that had been in your voice before was now gone, and the waver in it was clear as your hand tightened on the doorknob. You wanted to slam it close and turn the lock, but what good would that do? He’d get in, and while you were a decent enough sorcerer, him and Gojo had been the real hotshots, you just happened to be entertaining enough for them to let you tag along. He could kill you easily, your parents even easier, and your stomach twists into painful knots as you think to your mother who’s only a few feet away and sitting on the couch, curled into your father’s side as they watch a movie together.

“That hurts my feelings,” he smiles, and instead of the fluttery feeling that it used to give you, it only makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. “I considered you family, y’know—I still do.”

You bristle, eyes narrowing into slits as a wave of anger washes over you, quickly replacing that all-consuming fear. “Is that why you’re here? To kill me just like you did your family? Your parents?”

“My family?” He tilts his head, a look of confusion taking over his features, and you finally notice his new look. He’s garbed in a monks robes, and his hair that had usually been kept tidy and out of the way now flows down his back. A fleeting thought of his attractiveness passes by, and you don’t entertain it. “Oh, those monkeys.” An easy smile graces his lips as he bats his hand in the air, as if shooing away something bothersome. “No, I’m not here to kill you. You actually have a place in this world, unlike…” His eyes make a motion to the side when he hears your mom’s grumbled complaint of the show, and he’s been inside your house enough to know exactly where the couch sits.

“Leave, Getou.” His eyes slide back to yours, that smile still on his face, and the fear from before comes back tenfold at his unspoken intentions. “Now.”

“You don’t have to look so scared,” he laughs lightly, and you jump when you hear your mother call out to you.

“Who’s that at the door, sweetie?” You hear the sound of her shuffling towards you, and your heart lurches up into your throat as you freeze. What do you do? What can you do? Tears well up in your eyes when you come to the realization that whatever you did would be pointless in the end. If he wanted your parents dead, then they’d be dead.

“Please, Suguru.” The floorboard creaks behind you, and his smile widens further at the desperation in your voice. Please don’t hurt them.

“Honey, who are—oh! Getou? I haven’t seen you in ages! How’re you doing, hun? I thought you were still overseas.” Your mother sidles up beside you, a pleased smile on her face as she takes him in. Getou looks to you, clearly wondering when he had gone overseas, and you think back to the lie you had told when your mother kept questioning you about where your ‘handsome little friend had gone’.

“I’ve just gotten back tonight, actually.” He smoothly lies, hands disappearing into the sleeves of his robes, and your heart rate skyrockets as your brain conjures up various scenarios, scenarios in which all end the same exact way. “I missed your daughter so much that I just had to come and see her.”

Your mother swoons.

“H-He’s leaving, actually.”

“I’m not, actually.” He retorts, and your mother throws a glance your way, and you meet her gaze, hoping and praying that she’d realize the gravity of the situation by the look on your face. She’s your mother, she raised you, she knew all your moods, good and bad, surely she should know when something was seriously wrong with—

“Why don’t you come inside then and get out of this cold? You can tell us all about your stay overseas over some tea.”

Nonononono.

“Oh, how kind, I’d love to.”

-

“How are your parents doing, Geto? I haven’t heard from your mother in a while… she missed out on the market’s half off deal last Saturday.”

Dead. He killed them. He killed them and he’s going to kill you, too.

Your stomach gives another lurch, and you press shaking hands in between your thighs and squeeze them together tight. I can call Gojo, you think. He’d get here in seconds thanks to his teleportation, and in a battle of strength between him and Getou, he came out on top every time. Of course, somehow being able to sneak away to grab your phone would be a risk. But you had to try, you couldn’t just keep sitting here and prolonging their death while they chatted about an overseas trip that never happened, and parents that had long been murdered by their own son.

“…find yourself a partner yet, Getou? I’m sure you have, with your good looks and all.” Your father gives his wife a raise of his brow, but otherwise keeps his attention on the television. “Oh, it’s a pity. You know…” Your mother gives you a sly look, and you narrow your eyes at her as you give a firm shake of your head. “I always thought you two had a little spark going on.”

“Mom.”

Getou grins like the chesire cat, and you wonder if he’s always looked this devious and you were just too blinded by…whatever to notice. “I actually haven’t found anyone yet, although I do have someone in mind.”

“Oh.” She jovially laughs, her hand softly batting at your shoulder as she throws you another look, and you couldn’t keep the grimace off your face if you tried. “It wouldn’t happen to be my lovely, sweet, beautiful, hardworking, amazing cook—”

“—I’m not listening to this.” You shoot to your feet, using the excuse of this embarrassment of a conversation to your aid. It’s a good enough reason to make a swift exit —a mother trying desperately to set her daughter up with the man who’s plotting to kill her and her husband— and swift it is, your feet quickly carrying you up the stairs and down the hall.

“—oh, come on, honey! I’m just playing around!”

Your mother’s voice fades out as you push open your bedroom door and immediately lunge for your phone that’s lying on the bed. You grab it with shaking hands, fingers frantically tapping in your password, and your eyes dart between the screen and the hallway.

A silence falls over the house, and you make a choked noise as your mind jumps to the worse. He’s killed them. He finally got tired of playing nice and killed them. Oh God, he’s killed them.

“…just down the hall and to the ri—well, you’ve been here plenty times! You know the way!” A wave of relief washes over you at the sound of your mother’s voice, only for a surge of panic to rise when you realize he’s on his way and you’ve still yet to call Gojo. You’d have to settle for a text, then.

Your fingers fly across the screen as you move to the text chain you have with Gojo, and you begin to type a message. Getou is here please help, quick and to the point. Your thumb moves to send it, only for a blob of something black to suddenly engulf your hand.

You suck in a sharp breath, eyes widening and arm flinging to the side as you try to fling whatever the hell is on you away, and go to release it in a scream, only for a hand to clamp around your mouth from behind, nails painfully digging into the fat of your cheek. There’s a numbingly cold presence at your back, and your ears twitch at the ragged breathing in your ear.

You know before you look down and see the dark, ghoulish hand that it’s a curse, and you gag as the scent of rotting flesh floods your nostrils. The sound of your bedroom door lock clicking into place reaches your ears, and your eyes snap up to see Getou leaning against it, hands clasped in front of him as he looks at you through his lashes, head tilted down so his chin reaches his chest.

“Your mother doesn’t know when to shut up.” He sighs, and then he’s pushing away from the door and sheathing his hands back into his sleeves, eyes slowly taking in your room. “A second longer and you would have gotten that text off. To Satoru, I’m assuming?” The blob that had engulfed your hand plops down to the floor, and you gag again at the sticky liquid that drips from your palm and onto the carpet.

Getou splays out his palm, and then the phone is spat out and up from the curse before landing in his hand. He glances down at the screen and tsks. “I should kill them right now.”

You scream into the curse’s palm, your head frantically shaking wide to side as best it can. The nails dig in deeper, and you moan in pain, your own hands moving to attempt to free yourself, only for the thing’s other hand to snag ahold of your wrists and wrench them behind your back.

“They were supposed to be dead two hours ago, but I figured I’d let you have a few more moments with them for old times sake.” He smiles as he stoops to look at a picture on your bedside table — it’s one that you had taken the winter before Getou had turned into what he was now. You were sandwiched between him and Gojo, a grin on the white haired man’s face as he leaned his elbow on the top of your head. You were in the middle of sending your fist into his stomach (that of which had been blocked by his infinity, you faintly recall) while Getou watched the two of you with a small smile on his face.

It was the last picture that the three of you had taken together, and you had thrown it away countless times, only to later find yourself rooting through the bin as you frantically searched through it.

Your eyes fill with tears once again.

“Those were fun times, yeah?” He comes to a stop in front of you, and the curse that had been restraining you suddenly lets you go. It steps around you, and you watch, frozen, as it takes hurried steps out of your room. You gasp in a breath, your hands flying to his robes as you clench them in your fists.

“I’m begging you,” you croak, the tears freely falling down your cheeks. “Please don’t do this, Suguru. Please don’t hurt them.”

“They have no place in my world.”

“Honey…do you see that? Oh my God, do you see that?”

“Suguru!” You wail.

“But you…” His hands move to cup the sides of your face, and you sob when you hear the first scream. “You do.”

[bvidzsoo]

Nowhere we won’t go

 Author: bvidzsoo

 Warning: violence, murder, blood, some swearing

 Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x female reader

 Word count: 27, 401

 Summary:  Life had mysterious ways of working, and it took you off guard when you lost your best friend to a ruthless criminal. No one knew who did it, the whole town was in terror. However, it didn’t stop there, more people were dying and your suspicions of the murderer started raising. Could it really be your boyfriend?

 A/N: Hiii lovelies! I’m back from the dead lol. College always takes a tool on me, so I barely have inspiration to write nowadays. I watched Scream lol and this oneshot came into fruition. Ofc it’s heavily inspired by the movie so don’t come at me, but I tried to be original still. I might be a little rusty crusty dusty, but I hope it’s not that noticeable. Please leave feedback, you know I love it and I hope everyone enjoys this! Happy reading!

           This morning wasn’t any different compared to other mornings. The sun was slowly rising, beaming down on our little borough and letting its rays spread some well needed warmth as autumn has approached, coating the town in a grey fog as a result of daily rain. I missed the summer days, when the temperatures were high and I was carefree and able to spend my time doing what I liked. School takes up a large amount of effort and energy, and sometimes, I’m drained by the end of the day. I am conscious that going to school is crucial as it’s supposed to educate us and develop us into mature and smart young adults, ready to pursue our dreams and goals once we’re out of high-school, but most of times it’s just a buzzkill. The teachers are always dull and mean to us, as if they hate us for being in their classes, and most things we learn seem useless once we have stepped out into the real world. I like studying, but I am not desperate, and find myself spending my time doing something else quite often. This has always been an issue with my mom, as she’s a hardworking nurse and stern woman, only expecting and accepting perfection. But we got past our differences a few years ago and now, if I get good grades, she allows me to do whatever I like on the weekends. When I was young, I was supposed to attend various activities which my mother enjoyed while she was young, like: swimming and ballet classes. I have always hated ballet; it gave me bad ankle and toe aches making me unable to get out of bed on some lamentable days. But my mother wouldn’t accept my whining and forced me to continue ballet, only allowing me to stop when I told her I had no interest in being a ballerina. That was three years ago. Mom was quite disappointed but when I told her I wanted to take up some drawing and painting classes, reluctantly, but at last she agreed. Now, I can see myself being an artist, attending a prestige arts college. I only have to convince my mother at this point to oblige to my wish. I don’t know how I’m going to do that, but I’ve still got two years to come up with a good solution. Perhaps if Wonwoo and I can go to the same college she’ll let me be. Wonwoo, my boyfriend, is someone who my mother adores. She’s loved him from the very first moment they have met. He’s soft spoken and kind, a little withdrawn, but nonetheless friendly once he opens up to you. We’ve known each other since we were kids as we’ve been living on the same street for our whole lives, but our romance only began in high-school, last year. It took us some time to mature and notice each other finally, but when it happened, I couldn’t have been happier. He was so attentive to me, always listening closely to what I had to say. He made me laugh and smile, sometimes even without trying to, and filled my heart with warmth I didn’t know was even possible. I found a confidant and friend in him, someone whom I could love freely and carelessly, never doubtful or uncertain of his intentions. Wonwoo was direct and honest from the get go and it made me like him even more. We had our ups and downs, just as any couple, but managed to work them out and move forward as a stronger couple. He had moments when I couldn’t understand him, questioning whether I was imagining his lack of empathy or he really lacked of it, but never thought too hard about it. After all, both of us were enamored with each other, living under our pink cloud as any newly formed couple.

I had dressed up after waking up, realizing I needed to hurry up if I wanted to catch the bus, mom had a nightshift and wouldn’t be driving me to school today. I could smell bacon and eggs wafting through the downstairs as I descended the stairs, headed for the kitchen. My mother was still in her nurse uniform, her blonde hair pulled in a tight bun as she placed the fried bacon on a plate next to the already done eggs.

“Good morning, mom.” I greeted her with a smile and she turned around, dark bags under her eyes as she returned a smile.

“Good morning, slept well?” She asked as she handed me the plate which I took eagerly. I didn’t have dinner last night as I was too lazy to cook something and my stomach was screaming at me right now to fill it with something.

“Yes, although the storm did wake me up…” I trailed off as mom hummed, sipping some orange juice as she sat down opposite of me.

“It was quite bad; the wind tore a few trees out around the hospital.” She said and I hummed in surprise, not having thought the storm was actually that bad. My mom looked behind me with furrowed eyebrows as she quickly went to grab the remote control. I was just chewing on my breakfast as she turned the volume up of the TV behind me, making me turn around to see what has caused such interest in my mom suddenly. However, the words of the reporter made me drop my fork.

“Breaking News.” Her voice was loud and clear, eyebrows furrowed as she stood in front of a white house, “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Trees getting torn out of the ground during last night’s storm wasn’t the only unfortunate thing to happen. It has come to our attention, that a beloved citizen of our serene city has been murdered in cold blood last night during the storm. Her name is Myoi Mina and she was a student at Primrose High-School. Not much is known as of now about her death, the police are still investigating the crime scene, however, I managed to find out before going live, that she’d been stabbed in the chest three times and suffered a fatal trauma to her head. I offer my sincere condolences to everyone who knew her. Stay tuned for more news about the terrific death of Myoi Mina, a bright girl who will never be forgotten. I am Park Sooyoung and you’ve been watching Prime News.”

For a second the world went quiet around me as I continued staring at the TV with my mouth open in shock. If it weren’t for my mother calling out my name, I probably would have stayed longer in that trance.

“Honey!” Her voice rose an octave and suddenly I felt her gripping my hand, eyes searching mine.

“Mom—” I managed to whisper as she pulled me into a hug, offering me support. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. Mina…dead? How is that possible? Who would do that to her? We weren’t friends, but as we go to the same high-school we’ve known each other. She was always bright, and friendly, just as the reporter has said. Who would want to take away her life? When she was so innocent—oh, poor Wonwoo. If I was this affected by the news, I couldn’t imagine what he was going through. They had been exes and despite a tumultuous relationship, they managed to figure things out and stay somewhat friendly with each other after their breakup. Still, she was a person he once had loved and I would totally understand if he needed time to sort his thoughts out.

“Honey, are you alright?” My mom whispered and I lightly nodded, pulling away from the hug. I wasn’t very alright, confusion and fear meshing together, but I needed to stay strong. For Wonwoo, probably.

“Yes, just very…shocked.” I answered mom and she nodded; eyebrows downturned as she understood my feelings.

“It’s going to be fine. The one responsible for this will be found and held responsible for their actions, don’t be afraid.” Mom tried to cheer me up and offer some security, but it didn’t do much. However, I did appreciate her attempt.

“You’re right.” I tried to give her a smile, but I wasn’t able to.

“Let me drive you to school today—”

“No, don’t worry! I am fine, really. You look very tired, just go get some sleep. The bus is coming in five minutes.” I reassured her and got up from my seat, appetite gone as I quickly filled my water bottle with some orange juice.

“You’re sure?” Mom raised her eyebrows and I nodded, going up to her and kissing her cheek.

“Go rest, mom.” She hummed and patted my head before I hurried into the hallway to pull on my shoes and take on my coat. I opened the front door and took my keys, locking it once I was out of the house. Just as I walked down my porch the bus approached and I got on it, noticing the silence and somber faces of the rest of the students on it. Today was a grey day and nobody could deny it.

           My first task after getting off the bus was to find Wonwoo and check up on him. I kept biting my lip nervously as I looked around the halls, even going up to his locker. He was nowhere to be found and it made me even more nervous. I walked up to his classroom and peeked inside, but his usual seat was empty, not even his bag was there yet. Classes would start in ten minutes and I was panicking, about to grab my phone to call him, when I realized I hadn’t checked one place yet. The spot designated for the students to park their bikes and motorbikes. Of course he’d be there, why hadn’t I thought about that earlier?!

I ran down the hallways and finally exited the school, beelining it for the parking lot. Nobody was laughing this morning, people whispering amongst them, some even crying. Mina’s closest friends weren’t even seen at school, I understood why. I greeted a classmate of mine in a rush as I passed by him, he had just gotten out of his car and was taken aback by my presence, but by the time he greeted me back I was already facing the motorbikes parked in the corner. And there he was, Wonwoo, dressed in all black, his helmet in his hands as he got off his bike. His black hair was badly ruffled as he hadn’t run his fingers through his hair yet, and I suddenly took off, running towards my boyfriend. He had placed the helmet where he was sitting just seconds ago when I crashed into his back, hugging him from behind. I rested my cheek against his shoulder as I squeezed my arms tightly around his middle, making Wonwoo let out a surprised gasp.

“Hey, there, sugar.” He chuckled and my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Just as I pulled my head away from his shoulder he turned around in my embrace and hugged me back, just as strongly as I had hugged him. He was crushing me, but I didn’t care.

“Wonwoo—” I managed to mutter out as I wiggled out of his embrace, torso aching in certain spots, “Are you alright?”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed as he ran his fingers through my short hair, resting his hand on my nape, “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

I became even more confused at Wonwoo’s words, searching his face for some sort of tell, but there was none, “Well…did you not hear?”

I decided to feel around, scared that I had to be the one to tell him. It would break me seeing him in pain.

“Hear what?” Wonwoo asked confused, his thumb rubbing my jugular, it was slightly distracting.

“Oh, well—” I cleared my throat and licked my lips, “Mina—”

“Oh, that.” Wonwoo muttered and looked down, his grip slightly tightening on my nape, but I said nothing as I watched his expression. He seemed unphased almost, like he wanted to look sad but it wasn’t working. My eyebrows furrowed when Wonwoo sniffed, yet there were no tears in his eyes. He clearly wasn’t alright, and I felt horrible for even reminding him of her death.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Why are you sorry, did you kill her?” He suddenly looked up and his sharp eyes were piercing into mine, and I suddenly stuttered before shutting my lips. What? He looked so…cold. As if he didn’t care at all.

“No, I just—”

“Y/N,” He grabbed both of my cheeks with his hands and pulled me into him, our foreheads almost touching, “You are the love of my life and whatever happened to Mina…she had it coming.”

I couldn’t believe my ears, and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked at Wonwoo with even more confusion. He didn’t actually mean that, right? How could he…he cared for her once.

“She was murdered, Wonwoo.” I whispered; my voice almost trembling. Wonwoo sighed and swiftly kissed my forehead, but it didn’t reassure me like it usually did, no, it made a chill run down my spine.

“I know, but she cheated on me multiple times, sugar, I do not care what has happened to her.” Wonwoo’s voice was sinister, almost gloating if I hadn’t known him better, “But she deserves it.”

My mouth opened in a gasp as I shook my head, refusing to comprehend the words which were leaving his lips, but also shocked and trying to process what he could really mean by saying that. But before I could voice my thoughts, his warm lips were pressing against mine softly, our noses touching. His was cold as it was really windy outside and I pulled back from the kiss, opening my eyes to gaze into his. I couldn’t read what he was feeling, his face expressionless and somehow so cold.

“I love you.” Wonwoo muttered before he let go of me and stepped back, grabbing his helmet off his motorbike. I watched him as he grabbed his backpack as well, trying to go over what has happened in the last few minutes, realizing this was just probably Wonwoo’s way of processing the traumatic news of last night’s happening. I knew deep down he was feeling miserable, he just didn’t want to show it in order to not worry me even more. I felt sympathetic for him and as he looked at me, it shocked me how much hatred was behind his irises, but it was gone just as quickly as it came, and it made me wonder if I had started seeing things. The news must be affecting me real bad if I couldn’t decide anymore what my boyfriend’s reactions meant.

           Today was grim. Everyone’s mood was bad and students almost whispered to each other despite it being our long break. Myoi Mina’s death has affected all of us, it was obvious. Everyone seemed to hold some sadness in their eyes and somehow they seemed to be more sympathetic towards fellow students. Even the teachers tried to be nicer to us. An hour ago we held a memorial for Myoi Mina at the football field of our high-school and once we were dismissed we quickly hurried back to our classrooms as the wind started picking up once again. The weather seemed to worsen as we reached noon and currently we were bundled up in the cafeteria, trying to enjoy our lunches. However, I found it rather hard to swallow the mashed potatoes as I overheard the girls next to our table talking about Mina’s brutal murder. I found the topic insensible and rude to talk about, especially since they seemed to be giggling about it from time to time, wondering whether the criminal looked hot or not. Kim Yerim, my best friend, seemed to have had enough as well as she slammed her fork down against the table, the loud sound catching those girls’ attention.

“Listen here, insensible cunts, if you want to gossip about that poor girl’s terrible death and fantasize about a murderer, go do it in your bedrooms and not in the cafeteria where everyone can hear you and realize just how fucking stupid you are!” Yerim’s words were harsh, always having been a brutally honest person, and it caught the attention of a few more students around us who seemed to be agreeing with her as they shot nasty glares at the gossiping girls. They seemed to be offended and one even gasped as she stood up, causing an unnecessary scene.

“How dare you call us—insensible cunts?!” Her voice rose and Yeri scoffed, giving her an amused grin.

“I was merely telling the truth, sweetheart.” Yerim answered back and I turned my head to look at the girl who was very pathetically gasping for air.

“I think everyone around us knows by now that you just want your five-minute fame, so settle down before you embarrass yourself furthermore.” I spoke up, trying to ease up the tension, but I figured I only did worse by saying that. The girl’s friend gasped loudly and both were standing up now, looking down at Yerim and I as if we were some monsters.

“Look who’s talking about fame, Y/N.” The second friend, who was blonde and had a pixie cut, looked at me maliciously, “Aren’t you the one dating Myoi Mina’s ex?”

Yerim and I glanced at each other, not understanding the correlation here, “I am, and so what about that?”

“Ah, look at her talk about fame,” The first one who caused this scene mocked, she had jet black eyes, “You’re acting as if you’re an angel when it’s because of you Wonwoo and Mina broke up. Did you know he cheated on her with you?”

I gulped, feeling the eyes of many students on me. This information was wrong, merely a gossip Mina spread around after she found out Wonwoo started going out with me out of jealousy. It didn’t last for long, the gossip, because a week later Mina and I talked and cleared things up. I held no harsh feelings against her and she apologized, realizing how foolish she was, and promised to make things right.

“That’s not true.” I said as I glared at the two girls, “Mina spread that rumor around out of jealousy—”

“Are you seriously bad-mouthing a dead person right now?!” The blonde one exclaimed in outrage and I couldn’t believe my ears. Suddenly I was the bad guy when I just wanted to protect someone who couldn’t do it anymore themselves. I could hear my ears ringing and my jaw clenched as I glared at the two. Yerim was just as appealed as I was and she slowly stood up, expression menacing.

“Look who’s playing the victim now.” Yerim chuckled and went around her chair, oh no, this was going to be bad. I stood up and grabbed my friend’s arm, knowing she’d get physical if no one was there to restrict her. Yerim always struggled with her anger issues, but when someone was disrespected she couldn’t help it, she saw red. I glanced around and gulped nervously, too many people were watching us now. And they were whispering too. I didn’t want this. Today out of all days this was so unnecessary.

“Yerim—” I spoke up, but before any of us could say anything else, Wonwoo and Soonyoung, his best friend, approached our table, each holding a tray full with food.

“What’s your problem, Hyuna?” Wonwoo snapped, blazing eyes glaring at the girl with the pixie cut, “Are you letting out your frustration on Y/N now that Mina’s gone? What? Are you going to beg me soon to leave Y/N for you?! Just like you did when I was dating Mina?”

My mouth fell open as Yerim and I looked at each other shocked, and even the students who were fully watching the commotion now, seemed surprised. The blonde one, Hyuna, turned red in the face and she gasped, looking at Wonwoo with her mouth gaping.

“That’s—that’s not—” She stuttered, shrinking under Wonwoo’s harsh glare, “That’s not what I was doing!”

“But you were speaking poorly of a dead girl.” Wonwoo said nonchalantly and Hyuna gulped as her friend took her hand and started pulling her away. I think they realized they have embarrassed themselves enough. Soonyoung started cackling as everyone watched the two girls basically run out of the cafeteria and he had the audacity to shout after them, “Look, Hyuna! I’m still available!”

His words elicited laughter from many students as they called Hyuna pathetic and everyone slowly went back to their lunch, Yerim and I long forgotten as we both sat down with Wonwoo and Soonyoung now having joined us. Wonwoo sat next to me and he kissed my cheek as I offered him a small smile, checking his face for any reaction. Perhaps a change of heart since the morning. But he still looked…fine, uncaring. Sooyoung, to Yerim’s dismay, sat next to her and she quietly sighed when he leaned close to her and whispered something, making her push his face away. Sooyoung giggled and I glanced at him, observing his attitude too. He looked like himself, as if Mina didn’t die, as if Mina and him didn’t even know each other.

“How are you feeling, Soonyoung?” I found myself asking my boyfriend’s best friend, curious.

Soonyoung looked up just as he stuffed his face with a chicken wing and grinned, “Quite well, thank you!”

Wonwoo cleared his throat next to me and I glanced at him briefly, but he was staring at Soonyoung quite coldly, “Oh—I mean, quite well despite the shocking news…I mean, how terrible, isn’t it?”

Yerim glanced at Wonwoo before she looked at Soonyoung and her eyes narrowed at the blonde, “At least you could try sounding more genuine next time, Soonyoung.” She emphasized his name as she gave him a glare. Yerim has never been fond of Soonyoung, she found him obnoxious, loud, dumb and overbearing. Despite Soonyoung’s efforts to get her to like him, she refused to spend any time with him if Wonwoo and I weren’t there.

“Yeah, you knew her quite well…” I found myself mumbling to no one in particular as I ate my lunch, but it seemed like everyone from our table heard me. Yerim nodded along. It was weird seeing the two boys so uncaring towards Myoi Mina’s death, after all, Soonyoung was the one who introduced Mina to Wonwoo.

“Oh, come on.” Soonyoung scoffed and leaned back in his seat, an irritated smirk crossing his lips, “That bitch whined all the time if something didn’t go her way. She didn’t let anyone breathe around her unless they first pleased her and my God—if Wonwoo wasn’t with her it was the end of the world, and if Wonwoo was there—why was he showing her no affection?!”

Wonwoo placed his fork down and placed his elbows on the table, leaning forward and placing his chin on his knuckles, “Thank you for you input, Soonyoung, although I’d like to enjoy my lunch without hearing about my ex-girlfriend’s death…again.”

It was the most emotion Wonwoo had shown all day and I grabbed his hand, squeezing it and offering him a small smile. He looked at me, seemingly still pissed off at Soonyoung, but offered me a small smile back. Yerim was silent as she watched the two boys before shaking her head and taking a sip from her glass of water. I knew how she felt about them, she never liked them too much, but they were good boys. A bit odd, but well-intended.

“Fine,” Soonyoung muttered displeased as he took another chicken wing, eyeing Yerim from the corner of his eyes, “but the bitch deserved it.”

“Excuse me?!” It was Yerim who was appealed this time, her reaction being the same as mine when Wonwoo said it. She just reacted stronger than I had. I was quite speechless, she rarely was.

“Nothing.” Soonyoung smiled sweetly at my best friend and I could feel my heartbeat pick up when Wonwoo’s tongue poked his cheek from the inside of his mouth, a clear sign he was getting angry. I looked at him, but he was glaring daggers at Soonyoung. Thinking quickly, I looked down at his plate and touched his thigh, trying to get his attention.

“You don’t like chicken wings,” I said with a smile as I pointed at my plate, “You can take my fried cheese.”

Wonwoo’s attention was back on me and his eyebrows furrowed, “You don’t look chicken wings either—”

“Don’t worry, I’m full already.” I smiled, I wasn’t full, in fact. But they were probably out of fried cheese and Wonwoo was quite particular about what he ate. I didn’t want him to be hungry until we got home.

“How sweet,” Soonyoung cooed from the other end of the table and both Wonwoo and I glanced at him, “She’s so caring, Won, don’t you just love her?”

He sounded quite mocking and I sighed, starting to get fed up with Soonyoung. I had no idea what his problem was today, but I didn’t enjoy being around him anymore. Wonwoo sensed my discomfort and shook his head at Soonyoung.

“Yes, I love her.” Soonyoung grinned widely and chuckled, shaking his head. He looked at Yerim and reached out for her hand, but she quickly took it off the table and gave him a glare.

“Don’t you want us to be sweet like them?” Soonyoung blinked cutely at Yerim, leaning closer to her, “How about—we go out on a date tonight?”

“Soonyoung,” Yerim scoffed and leaned closer, smirking at him, “For the nth time—no. I don’t like you and I will never date you. Stop being so fucking obnoxious all the time, thanks.”

Soonyoung tsked and shook his head, “You’re gonna get killed one day for talking like that to me.”

His words were barely audible but both Yerim and I caught it. Our heads whipped in his direction and he looked up innocently, blinking at us confusedly, “What?”

“Soonyoung, come to the wending machine.” Wonwoo abruptly stood up and smiled at his friend, however it didn’t reach his eyes, “Now.”

Wonwoo became demanding once Soonyoung made no sign of wanting to move and the blonde just sighed before getting up slowly, winking at Yerim before walking up to Wonwoo. Wonwoo swiftly grabbed his nape and pulled him away from us, making Soonyoung exclaim in annoyance. Yerim turned to look at me and I sighed, eating some more of my mashed potatoes.

“What is wrong with them?!” She whisper snapped as she watched me. I shrugged and ignored my friend, not wanting to think too deeply of what’s happened the past few minutes. Wonwoo was weird all day, but he’s been even weirder ever since they sat down to have lunch with us. Soonyoung’s words were even more unsettling and my head was a mess currently, I didn’t want Yerim questioning everything as well.

“Nothing.” I muttered back, head lowered as I tried to eat some more. Wonwoo took the fried cheese I gave him and I pushed the chicken wings to the side of my plate, I really hated them.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Y/N.” Yerim snapped and grabbed my elbow, making me look at her, “Something is very wrong with Soonyoung and we both know it. He’s giving me the creeps now more than ever before. Did you hear the things he was saying about Mina? How is that alright? How could he even think them and then say them—”

“I don’t know.” I snapped, getting pissed, “And I don’t want to know. This whole situation scares me and I’m not taking it well, okay? Everyone is talking about it and it’s making me lose my mind. I’m scared, okay? Can you at least, please, just drop it?!”

Yerim looked down and released my elbow, feeling bad for bringing this up again. I had already told her in the morning how scared I was of this whole ordeal, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you more. I just noticed things and wanted to tell you, because Wonwoo’s been weird too. He has always been, but today out of all days…he’s too quiet.”

“Wonwoo’s always quiet.” I chuckled and Yerim rolled her eyes.

“Not like this, you know what I mean…” She deadpanned and I huffed, turning back towards my plate.

“Whatever, you’re just being paranoid.”

“I’d rather be paranoid than dead.” Yerim muttered and I groaned, nudging her leg with mine underneath the desk. She giggled and started stealing the chicken wings off my plate as she glanced back, “I’ll take these before Soonyoung gets back and asks for them.”

I giggled and nodded at her, offering her my whole plate. I wasn’t full, but my appetite was long gone. I just wanted to be close to Wonwoo right now.

           I pulled the curtain to the side as I peeked out the window, eyebrows furrowing at the strike of lightning. The weather was horrible once again. It’s been raining almost the whole week. Mina’s murder was still fresh in everyone’s minds and people were cautious. It’s been three days only, after all. Today was her funeral and it was really sad. Many people showed up, although I preferred to stand towards the back, Wonwoo went ahead and offered his condolences to her parents who burst out in tears once they saw him. It made me realize how well liked Wonwoo was by the parents and elders in our town. He truly had a good soul and it was hard not to love him. My mother was working the night shift again tonight and as I didn’t feel comfortable staying home alone yet, Yerim and I agreed to have a sleepover tonight, however, she was still at the pool. She was a professional swimmer and she’s been training hard for the past half year for the upcoming national competition her team was to attend. I watched as the lighting struck again and waited for Yerim to pick up as my phone continued ringing. There was a chance she was still in the water, but I was hoping she wasn’t. We were supposed to meet half an hour ago, but she was running late.

“Hi!” Suddenly Yerim picked up and I smiled, closing the curtain, “Sorry, coach extended today’s training.”

She sounded breathless, “I figured, don’t worry. I still have some things to pack; do you want me to pick up pizza on my way to you?”

“Oh, pizza!” Yerim giggled and I heard someone shouting in the background for her, “One second coach—I’m supposed to be on a diet, Y/N, but sure.”

“Okay, one pepperoni pizza it is, then.” We both giggled.

“Wait—wasn’t I supposed to pick you up though?” Yerim asked and I went to my closet to take out my pajamas.

“You were, but since you’re running late I’ll drive myself, don’t worry.” The pool was a bit further from my house and I knew she was usually tired after practices; I didn’t want to burden her more.

“Thank you! See you!” I greeted her back before Yerim hung up and I finished packing the essentials before dressing up in my comfy sweater. It was actually Wonwoo’s but he gave it to me after I told him I liked the fabric of it. His cologne still lingered on it and I smiled as I nuzzled my nose against the collar of the black sweater. When he’d come over, every once in a while, he’d bring his cologne with him and spray it on the sweaters which were once his, so that I could feel him close to me even if he wasn’t here. It was a sweet gesture and it still brought butterflies to my stomach. There was another lightning strike and the thunder followed instantly, making me yelp at the loud rumble of it. My cat meowed loudly from the hallway and I opened my door, beckoning her over with a pout. She hated storms just as much as I did.

“Come, Byeol, this weather is driving me crazy.” She meowed back as if she understood me and jumped into my arms once I kneeled down to hold her. She nuzzled her head against my chin and I giggled, starting to pet her. She was a black cat with light green eyes which sparkled like stars, hence her name, Byeol. Mom bought her for me five years ago when I started complaining about being scared when she’d have her night shifts. I hated staying home alone at night until I got Byeol. She brought a sense of security with her and it made me appreciate her even more.

“I’m sorry for leaving you alone tonight, Byeol, you won’t be too mad at me, right?” I whispered at my cat as I played with her ears, she was purring loudly, “Mom will be back by five in the morning, so you won’t be staying alone for too long.”

Byeol meowed loudly and I chuckled kissing her head before placing her down on the floor gently and standing up to grab the charger of my phone, which I almost forgot to pack. I looked around the room and mentally checked off everything from my imaginary list of what I had to bring with myself to Yerim’s and picked up my backpack, making kissy faces at Byeol. She followed after me as I turned off the light in my room and walked down the hallway, headed for the stairs, when my phone suddenly started ringing. I looked down at the caller and saw Yerim was calling me, maybe she changed her mind about that peperoni pizza.

“Hi, Yerim—”

“Y/N!” Her voice was panicked and I stopped in my tracks, right at the top of the stairs, “Someone’s—following me!”

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, this was out of character for Yerim, “What? I don’t understand—what’s happening?!”

“I’m at the pool—” There was a loud crash and Yerim gasped, “I’m scared—a masked man—they are following me—”

“Yerim, are you being serious?!” My heart picked up as I raced down the stairs, backpack long forgotten as Byeol looked at me confused.

“Yes!” She exclaimed and she started whimpering, making my hands tremble, “They have a knife, Y/N!”

I could barely pull on my tennis shoes when I heard her words, “Hide!”

“I’m in the locker room but I couldn’t find the keys—” There was a loud bang and a sob left Yerim’s lips, bringing tears to my eyes.

“I’m on my way, I’m calling the police—”

“Don’t hang up, please!” Yerim was crying and I was shaking so badly that I could barely grab my keys.

“Yerim, I have to—” I was cut off by Yerim’s scream.

“No! No, stop! Please!”

“Yerim!” I screamed as I slammed the front door shut and struggled to lock it. I sprinted towards my car, ignoring the cold raindrops crashing against the pavement and myself, “Yerim, are you there—”

But another scream cut me off and I started crying, feeling helpless as I listened to my friend’s painful sobs. Just as I reached my car and unlocked it, the line went dead and I panicked even more, hands trembling so hard I could barely dial 112.

“112 what’s your emergency—”

“Please, I think someone’s murdering my friend! She’s at the pool on Wellington’s street, nr. 18. Please! Help her!”

“Ma’am, calm down, can you tell us your name?” The woman on the other side of the phone tried to calm me down, but I couldn’t hear her words. I had to get to Yerim before it was too late. I had already started my car and was pulling out of the garage as I started rambling mindlessly about where Yerim was and that they had to get to her right now.

“Ma’am, calm down and tell us your name.” The woman tried again and I wiped my tears away as I speed down the streets.

“My name is not important! Get to my friend! Her name is Kim Yerim for fucks sake!” I screamed as I rushed past a red light, barely avoiding getting hit. I didn’t care what happened, I only had Yerim in mind, I had to get to her. No, this couldn’t be happening. She’s playing a sick prank on me, she must be. Otherwise…no. No. No. It’s not the murdered. No. They aren’t targeting her, she’s probably just playing around—I slammed on the brakes when I saw someone crossing the road, screaming at them to get the hell away as I started driving again.

“Ma’am, where are you right now?” Suddenly, I heard the woman’s voice through my phone, forgetting I hadn’t hung up.

“In the car, I have to get to my friend.”

“You can’t drive in the state you are—”

“What do you know about that!” I snapped and took a harsh left turn, realizing I was just two blocks away.

“Ma’am, officers are already at the scene, your friend is safe.” The woman tried to calm me down but I shook my head.

“I’ll believe that when I see her with my own eyes.” I reached over and hung up, pulling up to the building as the flashing lights of police cars blinded me for a second. I parked the car and got out without turning the engine off, uncaring of the rain which drenched me in seconds, as I ran towards two officers who were just getting out of their cars.

“My friend—where is she?!” I asked breathless, but they just looked at each other and I didn’t wait for their answers, I pushed past them and ran inside the building. There were more police officers and I saw the entrance to the pool being tapped off, and I instantly knew. Something inside my stomach dropped. I heard nothing and I saw nothing. I had to know. I couldn’t just stand there and wait for the news to be delivered to me. So when three police officers noticed me and demandingly told me I had to leave, I pushed past them and sprinted to the doors leading inside the pool. They were already opened, and I could see everything. The blood. All over the floor, coloring the water. And I could see her. Face down. Floating in the water. Her black hair sprawled out around her. Her favorite swimming suit still on. My ears were ringing and my heart was thumping so fast I started seeing black. I couldn’t hear anything. I felt cold hands gripping my arms, but I couldn’t move. It’s like I was there, but I wasn’t. My hearing only came back when I found myself screaming her name and trashing around in the firm hold of the officers, who were pulling me away from the scene.

“No! Stop!” I screamed, sobbing loudly as I tried to fight them off still, “That’s my best friend! I need to see her! I need to be there for her! Don’t you understand?!”

“Bring her to the ambulance, give her a sedative.” I heard one officer say and I started shaking my head as my body went slack and I could only cry.

“But Yerim—” Suddenly I felt myself being lifted in someone’s arms and I curled into the person, crying loudly.

“It will be alright, miss, cry as much as you need.” A man, with a comforting voice, said reassuringly as I was outside again, the rain still pouring hard. I felt us running until the rain wasn’t hitting me anymore and I was sat inside an ambulance.

“Please—” I whispered, grabbing the officer’s hand as he went to pull away, “Save her.”

I saw sorrow in his eyes, as if he knew something I didn’t, as if he understood something I refused to believe in, “We will try our best, miss. Can you promise me you’ll stay here?”

I nodded and wiped my tears away, but new ones came rushing down my cheeks. I was cold. My body was shaking. I hugged myself and curled up into a ball as I tried to comfort myself, but nothing could bring comfort right now. I started mumbling, it was okay. Everything was okay. That wasn’t Yerim. Yerim was playing a prank on me. Yerim was hiding in the locker room and laughing her ass off, because she loved drama and attention. Yes, that is what was happening.

“Miss—miss—” I jumped when someone touched me and I grumbled at them to stay away from me, “Can you tell me your name?”

I didn’t want to talk, but when they asked me again, I snapped at them, “Kang Y/N!”

“Thank you,” The lady had a very calm voice and I felt her touch me again but I pulled my arm away, once again, “Can you tell me how old you are?”

“Why are you asking me all these questions?!” I snapped again, raising my voice, “You’re supposed to help my friend! Go help her!”

“I’m supposed to help you, Miss Kang—”

“No, because I’m fine—”

“Y/N?!” A familiar voice asked from behind the doctor lady and my eyebrows furrowed when I looked past her and came to see Soonyoung. Why was he here? What was he doing here?

“What?” I whispered confused, glancing back at the doctor who was preparing an injection and I started shaking again, “What are you doing with that?!”

The doctor said nothing as she sighed and walked closer, making Soonyoung protest as well, “Young man, stay out of this unless you want to be sedated as well.”

“Sedated?!” I exclaimed and went to stand up, but suddenly someone from behind held me down and I just realized I wasn’t sitting alone in the ambulance. I started trashing around, trying to free myself as the doctor was now standing right in front of me and I started crying once again when she started feeling around for my vein.

“Please go help my friend—” The doctor shushed me and I whimpered when the needle entered my skin, the doctor injecting the sedative inside my body.

“She’s in shock,” I heard her say as my muscles slowly started to loosen, as if they weren’t listening to me anymore, “She started calming down but you triggered her again, I’m asking you to step back and let her be.”

I realized she was talking to Soonyoung as I was laid down on the stretcher inside the ambulance and the doctor checked my eyes before nodding at someone. I was covered by a blanket and I sniffed as I continued crying quietly, my body feeling numb all of a sudden.

“You should rest now; everything will be alright.” I heard someone saying to me as I felt my eyelids get heavy and I tried shaking my head and telling them that I needed to be next to Yerim, but my mouth wouldn’t move.

“Can you let me stay with her? I’m her friend, I also knew Yerim.” I heard Soonyoung saying before he climbed inside the ambulance. Knew Yerim? Why in past tense? Yerim was fine, what was he talking about? Why is he here?

“It’ll be fine, Y/N.” I felt a hand patting my wet hair as my mind was slowly losing consciousness, “Yerim was a strong girl, but too stubborn for her own good. I just couldn’t help it…”

Before my brain could comprehend Soonyoung’s words, everything became black and I fell into a state of unconsciousness. Did I lose my best friend?

           It was all so blurry. The past two weeks. Everything went by quickly, Yerim disappeared so suddenly. She was here, next to me, laughing and being excited about her up-coming tournament one moment, and the next…I watched her coffin being lowered into the cold, wet ground. I had no tears left to cry at her funeral, I could only watch with a blank stare as her coffin was slowly getting covered by the dirt, swallowing her forever, robbing her from me. I felt nothing. My skin was cold, I was shaking. It was a sunny day and everyone wore short sleeves, but I was wearing a long sleeve and a coat. I could hear the priest saying a prayer, Yerim’s mother weeping next to me and her husband gasping for air, but I couldn’t actually hear them. It was as if I was underwater. Yerim’s smiling framed picture, which I was clutching, was the only thing reminding me that I was at the funeral, present physically, but so far away mentally. Someone held my shoulder, but I couldn’t be bothered to check who it was, I just shook their touch off and stared blankly at Yerim’s tombstone. I read her name, her year of birth and day of death, and I broke. The priest had just finished talking, ceremony ended, when my body started shaking violently, sobs raking my whole being. My legs were weak, and my feet hurt from the high heels I only wore because Yerim loved them and complained I never wore them. The sun was suddenly so hot, the coat and long sleeve were suffocating me, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t do this. I just couldn’t. Why did they kill her? What did she do? Why her? Why not me?! I knew my sobs turned into wailing and my feet gave up and suddenly, I was on my knees, clutching the framed picture to my chest and trying to find my breath, but my sobs wouldn’t let me. It hurt so much, my chest was in pain, it felt as if someone was trying to rip my heart out. Suddenly, I felt strong hands gripping me by the elbows as I was lifted up. My body was limp so I did not fight back when the person turned me around and cupped my cheeks. My mind was far gone from the present, from what was happening, but I’d recognize his hands anywhere, anytime. They were big, warm, and soft. Wonwoo’s thumb started rubbing my cheek reassuringly and I found strength to open my eyes, still sobbing. His face was emotionless, but his eyes were soft and I knew he felt powerless for not being able to support me. But I appreciated his presence here, he calmed me, the aching wasn’t as bad as before. I tried taking deep breaths, my sobbing coming to silently crying as I hoarsely apologized to Yerim’s parents for creating a scene right at the end of the funeral. They shook their heads and brushed it off, engulfing me in a big hug as Wonwoo stepped back, and they tried to cheer me up with reassuring words, but they only broke me more. They were so supportive and loving, they always let Yerim follow her dreams and encouraged her to become her better self. They did not deserve to lose their brilliant daughter in such an ill manner. When her parents let me go I bowed deeply to them and handed them her framed picture, making her mother cry again. Her father took it from me and then they turned their backs and slowly started walking away. I turned towards my mom and Wonwoo and nodded at them, ready to leave as well. I didn’t want to go yet, but I had to. I had to learn to live without my best friend. Without my other half. As we started walking away, my eyes fell on a figure dressed in all black, head hanging low. His blond hair made it easy to recognize him, it was Soonyoung. He was gazing absent mindedly at Yerim’s grave and my eyebrows furrowed as I watched him. He looked emotionless, something foreign to Soonyoung. His eyes seemed to be red, but he wasn’t crying. Suddenly, he took off towards the grave and before I could follow him with my eyes, Wonwoo squeezed my hand and asked me if I wanted to have some lunch his mother cooked. I wasn’t hungry, but I didn’t want to refuse. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch time. And my mother seemed to cheer up a little bit at the idea of seeing Mrs. Jeon, so I agreed to that lunch. And as my mother opened the door for me before going to the driver’s seat, I glanced back at Yerim’s grave and furrowed my eyebrows. We were far from it, but not so far that I couldn’t see Soonyoung’s face. And he was smiling. I felt goosebumps erupting on my skin as I quickly got inside the car, his words from when he sat with me in the ambulance as I was falling unconscious ringing through my mind, ‘I just couldn’t help it…’.

Everything was hard after the funeral. Time really went by fast and I found myself doing nothing but staring out of my head, reminiscing about all the memories I had with Yerim. We’ve been best friends since primary school. I had no other friends, nobody that could live up to her or to our bond. I had no one to talk to suddenly, no one to annoy and no one to listen to as they told their ridiculous stories. It was so hard. I couldn’t eat, some nights I couldn’t sleep, and I couldn’t focus in school or when I had to study. Wonwoo tried to help and studied with me for a hard test, but it did nothing as I failed it. The teachers were understanding and they weren’t pushing me too hard, but for how long would I have their pity? How long until they start calling me out and telling me to get a grip and move on? Sometimes, in the hallways, I would see Myoi Mina’s best friend and I understood. I understood the sorrow in her eyes, the way she wouldn’t even look at anyone else but the ground. How she’d jump at the tiniest sound and how she’d brush off anyone who tried to talk to her. I was like that too, although I was trying hard not to be, it just wasn’t working. A girl who knew Yerim tried to take her seat yesterday and I flipped and screamed at her horrendous things for trying to do so. I felt horrible after that, but it didn’t matter, I was sent to our school’s therapist. He didn’t do much, just gave me some tips on how to grieve, told me to contact him if I started feeling worse, and then sent me on my merry way. I was already feeling the worst, could this get any worse? Wonwoo was understanding, but I could see he was growing restless. He’d snap at me when I’d refuse hanging out with him for the fourth time that week, but he’d instantly apologize saying he understood and he was also dealing with grief. Yerim and him weren’t very close, but they spent a lot of time together because of me, of course he was grieving too. However, Soonyoung was nowhere to be found. Some say his parents took him away on a retreat after he snapped at his younger sister at home, Wonwoo wouldn’t talk about him when asked. It was strange. Their behavior. Wonwoo would become tense when anyone mentioned the killer but when I’d ask if everything was alright he’d become defensive and say he was just stressed.

Tonight was one of those nights when I was restless and couldn’t stay at home anymore, so I went for a walk. My mom was cooking dinner and after playing with Byeol, I grabbed my coat and told my mom I’d be taking a walk in the neighborhood. She asked me to be home in half an hour as it was getting dark and rainy clouds started gathering on the sky. I missed Yerim a lot, and I couldn’t help but think about how excited she’d get whenever it rained. One summer we went down to the lake and it started raining hard, but despite that, Yerim still went and swum in the lake, splashing me repeatedly, making me go in with her despite being scared. Without meaning to, I found myself walking by Yerim’s house. I glanced up at her window, but of course the light wasn’t on. Of course it wouldn’t be on, why would it be? Yerim wasn’t there studying. I wished she was so that I could convince her to hang out with me and Byeol, but she wasn’t here with us anymore. The front door to their house opened and I smiled when I saw her father walking down the porch stairs. He looked up and spotted me, waving at me, as he was headed towards me.

“Good evening, Mr. Kim.” I greeted him and he smiled, opening the gate for me.

“Hello there, Y/N. What brings you here?” His eyes had always reminded me of Yerim’s, and their laughter was the same.

“I was taking a walk in the neighborhood, and found myself wandering here…” Yerim’s father’s face seemed to lose the little happiness he displayed and he sighed, glancing back, up at Yerim’s window.

“I understand, sometimes I find myself walking up to her room in the mornings, wanting to wake her up…” I bit my lower lip and Mr. Kim sighed before looking back at me, “Would you like to come inside? My wife baked those muffins you two girls really like.”

I found myself smiling, Mrs. Kim’s chocolate muffins were the best, whenever she baked them, Yerim and I would devour them in an hour, “If I’m not bothering too much…”

“Non-sense, child.” Mr. Kim laughed and stepped aside, allowing me inside their property. I bowed my head a little at him and walked through the gate, “I’m headed to the supermarket, want anything?”

“No, thank you, Mr. Kim!” He nodded and patted my head before he left through the gate, walking down the street, headed for the closest supermarket. Mr. Kim had always been the father figure I never had. He had also always treated me as his daughter. He was the one who taught me how to swim and how to ride a bicycle as my mother was too busy at the hospital. My parents divorced when I was really young and my father disappeared after that despite promising to come by sometimes and pay for the allowance. I shook my head at the thought of my absent father and walked up to the front door, knocking on it before walking inside. There was some jazz music playing quietly in the background as the delicious muffin smell wafted through the air. I took off my shoes and coat, and walked towards the kitchen, knocking on the door, realizing Mrs. Kim didn’t hear me entering.

“Oh, you’re back—Y/N!” A wide smile spread on Mrs. Kim’s face when she saw me and she rushed up to me, hugging me tightly, “How lovely you stepped by! We haven’t seen you since—”

Since the funeral, “Right, I was out for a walk and found myself passing by. Mr. Kim and I just happened to run into each other, he invited me inside.”

“How smart of him,” Mrs. Kim chuckled; however you could see she wasn’t feeling as giddy as she was acting, “I just happened to bake your favorite chocolate muffins.”

And Yerim’s. I smiled gratefully at Mrs. Kim as she handed me two chocolate muffins, which were still warm, “Thank you.”

“I will pack some for you to take home. I baked too much either way, my husband and I don’t have a sweet tooth, I just missed the smell of it. Your mother loves them too, she’ll be happy for the small gift.” Yerim might’ve looked like his father, but she talked just as much as her mother. When you’d sit down with the two of them and listen to their stories, time would fly by and you wouldn’t even notice. They had a very captivating way of speaking, conversing with them never felt awkward or boring.

“Thank you, she will probably give you a call when she gets them.” I said with a chuckle and Mrs. Kim smiled.

“As she should, we haven’t talked in a while…” Since Yerim’s funeral, but she didn’t want to say it. I didn’t want to say it either. It felt nice being in their home after two weeks. I always felt so welcomed here. The house was bright and homey, Yerim and Mrs. Kim having decorated it in an eccentric way, which would sometimes give Mr. Kim a headache. I looked behind me and glanced at the stair leading upstairs as Mrs. Kim placed some muffins in a smaller bag. She turned back and noticed me staring back at the stairs.

“You can go up, if you want to—Yerim wouldn’t mind it, I know.” Mrs. Kim spoke up and I nodded at her gratefully, placing the muffins I was holding on the table, before hurrying up the stairs and beelining it for her room. I hesitated for a second before opening the door, preparing myself for her absence, but it still hit me hard when I opened the door to darkness. I gulped and turned on the light, blinking away the tears which suddenly sprung to my eyes. Her room was the same, messy but not exactly. Her closet door was slightly opened and I could see her pink hoodie spilling out and I chuckled as I walked over and grabbed it. I always told her to just hang her hoodies up, but she never listened to me. As I held it in my hands, Yerim’s sweet scent hit my nose and I bit my lower lip, taking a deep breath. I placed her hoodie on the bed and pulled my long sleeve over my head before pulling her hoodie on and closing my eyes. My skin got covered in goosebumps as I imagined Yerim sitting in her chair and complaining about me wearing her favorite hoodie, but secretly not being bothered by it at all. We always shared our clothes when we’d have sleepovers, even tried them on and did a fake fashion show or acted as if had to sell them to each other at ridiculous prices. The hoodie’s fabric slowly warmed up and I opened my eyes, looking around her room. Her parents haven’t touched anything and I was reluctant to do so too, so I sat down on her bed and started playing with my fingers. The book I recommended to her to read was on her desk, bookmark somewhere at the middle of the book. She never got to read the mind-blowing plot twist, it made me sad, she would’ve loved it so much. Feeling a bit stuffy, I stood up and opened the window before going back to her bed and jumping on it, sprawling out on it. Yerim’s bed was always so comfortable, her blanket puffy, and bed covered in stuffed animals. I turned onto my stomach and started humming my favorite song as I stared up at the pictures above her bed, smiling as most were with the two of us. Our favorite pictures or just really silly ones. Yerim had big dreams compared to me, I was still struggling to decide what to do after high-school. My eyes went to her nightstand and I grinned when I noticed her favorite strawberry candy laying in her jar. It was the last one. I would always steal it, so I did just that. Hopefully, wherever Yerim was, she could see me right now and she’d be frowning and shaking her head at me. I loved annoying her like that. I unwrapped the candy and slowly ate it, chuckling at myself and how silly I must look. As I threw the wrapper on the nightstand, my eyes widened when I noticed her phone next to her lamp. Her parents must’ve placed it there. It surprised me for some reason, and as I reached for it and grabbed it, a twig snapped outside Yerim’s window and something hit the window. I gasped loudly and turned around, coming face to face with Soonyoung, as he had just climbed inside. I quickly placed Yerim’s phone in the hoodie’s pocket, something told me to hide it from Soonyoung.

“What are you doing here?!” I asked alarmed, heart beating fast from the scare. Soonyoung looked around before leaning against Yerim’s desk.

“I was running and saw light coming from her room—”

“So you just climb inside?!” I asked accusingly and Soonyoung shook his head.

“No, I didn’t meant to, but I saw it was you and—” He cleared his throat and looked down at the floor, “I don’t know…I just felt the need to talk to you.”

It made me realize this was the first time seeing him since Yerim’s funeral. And based on rumors, he wasn’t even supposed to be home.

“Are you okay? I haven’t seen you in school and Wonwoo wouldn’t talk about you.” I asked and Soonyoung looked up with a cold gaze, he looked tired.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was visiting my grandparents for a week, and I didn’t feel like going to school this week, so yeah.” Soonyoung explained and I nodded, taking in his posture. His shoulders were slumped and his forehead sweaty. He was out running, after all.

“And you?” Soonyoung cleared his throat, “Are you good?”

I sighed and looked up at the ceiling, thinking through my answer, “On some days I’m good, on some days I can’t eat nor sleep. I’m feeling content at the moment, but maybe that’s because we’re standing in Yerim’s room and I’m wearing her hoodie and I can just trick myself into believing that she’s downstairs with her mom or taking a shower…”

Soonyoung nodded and crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking at the hoodie I was wearing, “That was her favorite.” I hummed and he licked his lips, starting to shake his head suddenly.

“You know—if only—” He scoffed and his eyebrows furrowed, “If only she wasn’t so stubborn. She just—she always refused to go out with me, never even gave me a chance. I tried to convince her so many times, you know, I was patient and nice, but—”

I watched as Soonyoung grew agitated and started walking up and down, “But I just couldn’t do it anymore, you know? It’s like, my brain just clicked and I snapped and—”

I was growing confused as I listened to Soonyoung rambling, what did he mean? Snapped and what?, “You snapped and what, Soonyoung?”

“I didn’t want to do it, I swear.” His voice grew low and when he stopped and faced me, he looked different. His expression was dark and his mouth was in a sneer. I gulped and stood up, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. Soonyoung didn’t seem to notice my discomfort as he hung his head low and sighed loudly.

“I just couldn’t help it…” I gasped. Those words again. What did he mean by them? He didn’t…no. This is Soonyoung, it’s impossible. He couldn’t have…no. He’s my boyfriend’s best friend, he’d never—he’s not a criminal!

“We should go.” I found my voice as I shook my head, growing afraid all of a sudden. Soonyoung was acting weird and I had to go home now. My words seemed to snap him out of his mumbling and he suddenly looked at me, face void of the previous darkness.

“You’re right…” He nodded and patted my shoulder, offering me a small smile, “Don’t tell her parents I climbed in though, I don’t want them to believe I did this often.”

I forced out a chuckle and watched as he climbed out the window and then jumped down, sneaking away from the Kim’s property. My heart was beating like crazy as I closed Yerim’s window and I clutched her phone firmly in my hand as I turned the light off and closed the door behind me. I always refused to listen to what Yerim has always told me, but maybe, just perhaps, there was something very wrong with Soonyoung.

           Today the sun seemed to finally come out, no rain clouds seemed to appear anytime soon. It was warm for an October day and I found myself sitting in the courtyard, drawing in my notebook to pass time. I wasn’t hungry, so it was useless to go to the Cafeteria. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone, so when this morning Wonwoo approached me and suggested going on a date after classes, I declined and told him I had to do some catching up in Biology class as I skipped the last two classes having felt unwell. He got moody and stormed off without a word, making me sigh. I was pushing away everyone from myself, but I didn’t know how else to cope with the loss of my best friend. It was the only thing that made me feel content. I drew some harsh lines, trying to create the skyline in my drawing, when I saw someone approaching from the corner of my eyes. I didn’t look up, thinking it was either Wonwoo or Soonyoung, but the girly scent which hit my nose once the person sat next to me on the bench made me turn my head and look at them. It came as a surprise to see Minatozaki Sana sitting next to me, Mina’s best friend. Her blonde hair was tied in a ponytail and she wore a sleeveless turtleneck underneath her cardigan. She looked better than on most days, but her eyes were quite empty. She was staring at me too and I blinked at her in confusion. We never really talked to each other; she was in an entirely different grade than I was.

“Hello.” She broke the silence and I cleared my throat.

“Hi.” I greeted back and looked down at her hand curiously as she extended it towards me.

“My name is Sana; we’ve never been formally introduced to each other.” She seemed like a very straightforward person. I nodded and shook her hand.

“Indeed, my name is Y/N.” Sana hummed and we let go of each other’s hands, “I’m sorry for you loss.”

“I’m sorry for your loss too.” Sana was quick to return my words and I chuckled humorlessly, bringing a sarcastic smile on her lips. She nodded at me and then turned away, gazing at the trees on the other side of the courtyard. I continued watching her, thinking she’d say something else, but she remained silent, even ignored me. Realizing our conversation ended here I shrugged and looked down at my drawing, continuing to draw those harsh lines. And like that, we sat in silence next to each other. Sana proceeded to take out a book and read, and in a weird way, it brought comfort to have someone sitting next to me. But it was weird, if it were Wonwoo or Soonyoung, they would’ve irritated me. Sana’s presence was relaxing, understanding. Words didn’t need to be exchanged, we understood. Our silence was louder than our words could’ve been. I found myself smiling, something I haven’t done in the past four weeks. I glanced at Sana from the corner of my eyes and she was smiling too, sneaking glances at me. Before we could say anything, we both started giggling and it felt so nice. It was so relieving, as if I released all the pent-up stress I had in my muscles.

“We must look so odd to someone if they have been watching us for the past fifteen minutes.” Sana said through her giggles and I shrugged my shoulders.

“That’s the nicest thing someone could be thinking about us at the moment.” I said and Sana nodded, our giggles coming to a stop. Neither of us had to say it, but after Mina’s death there were whispers about Sana. How she killed her best friend because she was jealous of Mina’s success as she was the cheerleading captain and just wanted her position. How they weren’t even friends and kept a façade because their families were friends. Some rumors spread about Sana being in love with Mina, who didn’t reciprocate her feelings, so Sana killed her in a fit of rage. They were awful. And as the students were gossiping about Mina, they were gossiping about me too. I heard the jealousy version too, the need for attention version too, and even the version where Yerim was in love with Wonwoo and I killed her because I couldn’t stand the thought. They were hilarious, but they still got to you after a while. Just last week, Wonwoo almost got into a fight because of a guy who dared to ask me how it felt plunging that knife into Yerim. If Wonwoo wouldn’t have punched the living daylight out of him, I would’ve definitely.

“Don’t let the gossips get to you, they are ridiculous.” Sana said with a roll of her eyes and I nodded, agreeing.

“I know, but they still get bothersome after a while…” I muttered and closed my notebook as the bell rang, signaling our break was over. Sana looked up at the sky for a second and then closed her book, placing it in her backpack.

“You could always just slap them, you know.” She said with a mischievous smile and I chuckled.

“Have you slapped anyone so far?” I asked and Sana pursed her lips.

“Of course, I have,” She stood up, “Johnny thought it was funny talking about my dead friend’s figure and how pitiful it was that he couldn’t sleep with her before she died.”

I didn’t know who this Johnny was, but he deserved that slap, “How disgusting.”

“Indeed.” Sana hummed and waited for me to pack my belongings and get up from the bench. We took off, headed to the side entrance to the school, when suddenly, the intercom went off and our principal’s voice came through.

“This is the principal speaking. I ask everyone to pack their belongings and head straight to the main entrance. All students have fifteen minutes to leave the premises, a dead body was found in the men’s bathroom on the third floor. I instruct everyone to leave right now, and do not try and approach said bathroom or there will be repercussions!” Sana and I stopped dead in our tracks and looked at each other before hurrying inside the school, you could only leave through the main entrance. The halls were full of students rushing to get out, it was chaotic. Everyone was pushing everyone around and I found myself reaching for Sana’s hand, keeping her close to me as a bigger guy almost ran into her. She thanked me quietly and we continued making our way towards the main entrance. My heart was racing and suddenly I was feeling sick. Another victim. Another crime. Who was it this time? And just as that thought crossed my mind, I suddenly felt my legs turn weak. Wonwoo. Where was Wonwoo? Soonyoung? Where were they? Were they fine? I couldn’t do this again. I felt like I was walking through water again, the entrance was just there, but it felt so far away. I felt Sana tugging on my hand and I followed her, trying to control my rigged breathing.

“Hey, look at me.” She said once we were outside and she pulled me to the side of the steps, “Breathe, Y/N, you’re turning red.”

I nodded and tried to take a deep breath, but my muscles were tense and I felt tears gather in my eyes, “Where’s Wonwoo?”

An understanding look crossed Sana’s face and she started looking around, “I am sure he is alright; he’s probably looking for you right now, just as scared. You need to breathe, Y/N.”

I nodded and closed my eyes, feeling Sana’s grip tightening on my hand, and I tried to breathe. It was hard at the beginning, my lungs seemed to refuse to listen, but at last I was able to take little breaths here and there. Before I could react to the disappearance of Sana’s grip, I was engulfed into a bear hug, held tightly to someone’s chest. I gasped and opened my eyes, my arms going around Wonwoo’s neck.

“Oh my God, you’re okay.” I whispered, a tear rolling down my cheek. Wonwoo’s breathing was shaky as well and he nodded, his hold crushing me.

“Yes, yes.” He whispered and kissed my head, “Are you hurt?”

“No.” I muttered and shook my head, pulling a bit back. Wonwoo’s eyebrows were furrowed and he was breathing hard, his hair fell into his eyes. I pushed it back and smiled at him, grateful that nothing happened to him. I really wouldn’t have been able to deal with losing him too in such a sort time after Yerim’s death. I leaned up and pressed a short kiss against his lips and I could feel Wonwoo’s muscles relaxing, his hold not tight anymore.

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you all break.” Wonwoo muttered, pushing my hair behind my ear.

“In the courtyard, I wasn’t hungry.” I answered and then looked down, “Sorry, I should’ve told you.”

Wonwoo shook his head and kissed my forehead swiftly, “No, it’s alright.”

I realized Sana was with me seconds ago and looked around, spotting her to our right, “Thank you.”

She smiled and nodded her head before she placed her backpack around her shoulders and started walking away. Wonwoo nodded at her and Sana greeted him back before disappearing in the crowd of people.

“You know her?” He asked quietly, almost sounding irritated.

“Not really, we talked for the first time today. But I knew who she was.” I explained and he nodded, looking off in the distance.

“You shouldn’t be friends with her.” Wonwoo sounded serious as his expression hardened and I stepped out of his hold, confused.

“Why?” But before he could answer me, Soonyoung came running up to us. His hair was disheveled and he was panting, a duffel bag in his hands. My eyebrows furrowed and I stepped back when he stopped next to me a little bit too close for my liking. I’ve been avoiding him since we met in Yerim’s room, scared of his sudden changes of mood. Soonyoung had a crazed look in his eyes and he was grinning from ear to ear as he looked at Wonwoo.

“Did you hear? The murderer killed someone again.” He sounded excited and my eyebrows furrowed when I saw Wonwoo’s lips twitching.

“Who was it this time?” Wonwoo asked, voice uncaring, but I didn’t miss the hint of smirk on his lips. I gulped, curious too, but a bit taken aback by the boys attitudes.

“Boo Seungkwan.” I gasped and took a step back again, eyes widening. I knew him. The two boys looked at me with raised eyebrows. I gulped and avoided their eyes, feeling uncomfortable.

“Are you sure?” I asked quietly, feeling a lump in my throat.

“One hundred percent, Y/N,” Soonyoung chuckled and he went and slung his arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders, “I was the one who found him.”

My head snapped up and I watched the two boys in front of me as they looked at each other and chuckled, and then my eyes fell on the duffle bag. It was zipped closed, but…it looked as if there was a darker spot on it. I squinted as I tried focusing on it, but Wonwoo’s voice caught my attention.

“Didn’t you know him, sugar?” He asked sweetly and I nodded, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah, I did, he—” I cleared my throat and scratched my arm in discomfort, “He’s been bullying me since kindergarten.”

“He must’ve had a crush on you, right, Wonwoo?” Soonyoung asked with a laugh and I grimaced, weirded out by their behavior and feeling bad for talking like that about a dead person.

“Well, he’s been put out of his misery, so, I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore.” Wonwoo’s voice was smug and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked at my boyfriend, who seemed amused by the whole situation. What was happening? Why were they reacting like this? Wasn’t Soonyoung supposed to be shaken up after finding a dead body? I shuddered, and Wonwoo noticed because his demeanor changed instantly and he shook Soonyoung off him and took a step toward me.

“Y/N, I’m—”

“I have to go.” I cut him off and hurried away before he could grab me and convince me to stay with the two of them. I glanced back when I was a good distance away from them and saw Soonyoung making some slashing motions with his hand while laughing and Wonwoo smirking at him as he dug his hands inside his pockets. There was something very wrong with Soonyoung, and I was getting more and more scared of him.  

           Despite the sun being out throughout the day, by the evening some dark clouds started gathering on the sky, lightning flashing in the distance. I sighed as I drew my curtains to the side and opened the window, letting some fresh air in before the rain could start. I figured we’d have another stormy night, great, my mom had the night shift again, I hated being home alone during storms. I could hear Byeol running up and down the hallway as I sat on my bed and I chuckled, she had the zoomies again. I was holding Yerim’s phone in my hands and I figured I couldn’t do much damage if I looked through her gallery. Before leaving the Kim’s house I asked if it was alright if I borrowed her phone for a while, and they said it was okay as long as I returned it. So, pulling my hair to the side I unlocked her phone and went to her gallery. She was very organized, even when it came to pictures. There were different folders for different themes, all labeled accordingly. I clicked on the one with our nicknames for each other and giggled at the first photo. It was taken when Yerim and I went to the movies and I accidentally got stuck in the bathroom as the lock was faulty. You could see my hands from above the stall and I remembered how loudly I was screaming as I had left my phone with Yerim. It was hilarious, but I prefer not repeating the incident. Then the next one was with her neighbor’s dog; she took a selfie as we both were petting it. Then there were a bunch of hilarious and cute selfies from our latest sleepover, a few pictures of Byeol, and our favorite picture which we took while hiking one day. I sighed and looked out the window, just in time to see the lightning strike again. The thunder followed almost immediately, but it wasn’t as loud as I expected it to be. I looked back down at Yerim’s phone and excited her camera roll, about to place her phone to the side, when Byeol came zooming inside my room, scaring the living daylight out of me. I yelped and watched as she stopped underneath my window before she jumped up on the sill, looking at me innocently. I grimaced at her and looked back down at the phone, having accidentally opened the call log. My eyes ran over the familiar names of people, mine being the last one. I was the last person Yerim called before she died. A lump formed in my throat and I gulped, noticing the unknown number underneath mine. Who could that have been? Maybe a scammer or a guy she newly met, however I doubted that was the case, she always saved the numbers she was talking to. Biting my lower lip, I debated calling the unknown number, but after all, I had nothing to lose. And curiosity was eating my alive. So, I clicked on the number and dialed it, waiting patiently for the person on the other side to pick up. However, a ringing sound not too far away from my window suddenly caught my attention and I knew I wasn’t hallucinating as Byeol’s ears perked up at the sound too. But before I could think more of it, my call was picked up, but there was only silence on the other end. My eyebrows furrowed as I stood from my bed and walked towards Byeol, lightly petting her head as I looked out my window.

“Hello?” I asked quietly, getting a strange feeling of being watched, so I closed the window and locked it quickly.

“Hi there, beautiful.” I jumped at the distorted voice. It sounded like a robot speaking, the voice was low but almost glitchy. I looked out the window, wondering who was this and why had they called Yerim?

“Who are you?” I asked curiously, figuring it was just someone playing a prank on me.

“Wouldn’t it be boring if I told you that?” The voice almost took a playful tone and I chuckled.

“Perhaps, it would ruin your fun too soon, right?” I decided to play along and the person chuckled.

“Smart girl, indeed, it would ruin my fun too soon.” There was a pause before they continued, “And I’m not done having fun yet.”

I hummed and started petting Byeol’s head again as she was staring out the window, “Why did you call Yerim?”

“I was just about to ask; how do you have your dead friend’s phone?” I paused for a second, eyebrows furrowing. So this person seems to know us well. First, they probably called Yerim and were pranking her and now they are playing with me. It’s probably one of our classmates then, Mark likes goofing around.

“You must know us well if you have her number.” I decided to feel around and try and find out who this was.

“Oh,” The person chuckled and it sent a chill down my spine, “I happen to know you very well, Y/N.”

I licked my lips and looked down at Byeol as she pulled her head away, having had enough of my petting, “Really? How?”

The person chuckled again and I watched as Byeol jumped down from the window sill and walked out of my room, “I can’t tell you all of my secrets just yet, beautiful, it’s our first time talking.”

“I don’t think it is,” I chuckled, “Mark.”

There was a pause before the person sighed, “Who’s Mark, beautiful?”

I rolled my eyes, amused, “Ha-ha, very funny. My classmate, obvious. You really like playing pranks on people, don’t you? I thought last week’s detention was enough for a lifetime.”

“What if I’m not Mark?” The voice sounded very serious all of a sudden and I bit my lower lip, tracing a rain drop on my window as it started lightly raining.

“Then who could you possibly be?” There was another lightning and I turned around when Byeol started meowing loudly in my doorway. She was hungry, again, “I’m bored of this game—”

I turned to face the window again but instead of finishing my sentence, I cut myself off with a loud scream. A masked person was standing outside my window, and I started shaking as I froze for a second. It was…a Ghostface.

“Auch, beautiful, that was loud.” The Ghostface whined and I quickly drew the curtains closed, pulling down the blinds too, “What are you doing? Let me see you—”

“Who are you?!” I cut the person off, almost screaming as I ran out of my room, Byeol following agitatedly behind me. I checked the front door quickly, making sure it was locked before I went to check the door in the living room as well.

“Just a Ghostface, beautiful.” The person answered nonchalantly and my heart started beating fast as I hid behind the sofa, pulling Byeol into my chest. She made no sound as she gazed at me with her big green eyes.

“Stop calling me beautiful!” I snapped and tried to take deep breaths, debating on calling the police from my own phone. Who was this? What did they want? Were they…were they here to hurt me? What if…what if they were the killer? I felt dread flush over my whole being and I swallowed my tears and blinked my eyes continuously. I had to stay focused, if I was in danger, I had to save myself somehow.

“Did I scare you, beau—”

“Did you kill Kim Yerim?” I cut the Ghostface off, voice shaky as I waited for an answer. The person’s laughter made me shudder and Byeol wrestled herself out of my arms and meowed loudly at me for holding her so tightly. I felt sorry, but I was scared, and I was trying to hold her close to myself in case we needed to escape.

“Maybe I did.” There was a pause and I gasped, “Maybe I didn’t.”

I sprung up to my feet, acting out of pure terror, as I ran up to my room and grabbed my phone. I was too scared to look out of my window to see if the person was still there. There was a loud thunder and I screamed as the line went dead, leaving me shaking. Was the Ghostface gone? Shakily, I placed Yerim’s phone on my desk and slowly raised the blinds, scared of seeing the Ghostface outside of my window still. But nobody was there. I was scared, shaking, and on the verge of crying. Byeol was downstairs and the rain started falling harder. I couldn’t stay alone tonight; it would kill my nerves. So I quickly unlocked my phone and dialed my boyfriend’s number, pacing up and down in my room as I waited for him to pick up. Something rustled outside of my window and I froze when I faintly heard Wonwoo’s familiar ringtone, but the thunder swallowing the sound was louder and it made me feel stupid. Why would Wonwoo be right outside my window unannounced either way? What was he? A burglar? Wonwoo picked up on the third ring.

“Hi—”

“Can you sleepover tonight?” I cut him off, words hurried as I fixed my eyes on my window, starting to shake again.

“Are you alright?” Wonwoo sounded concerned and I heard rustling on the other end.

“No, are you coming over?”

“I’m on my way.” Wonwoo said before hanging up and I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. This was good. I wouldn’t be alone. Wonwoo would come by and sleep here. I took deep breaths as I paced around my room, Byeol sat in the doorway and watched me with a confused look on her face. I chuckled when I looked at her and tried not to think about the Ghostface and our conversation. It freaked me out. Who was behind the mask? And why would they want to prank anyone in this kind of way? It was distasteful and creepy, I was scared. Just as Byeol meowed she reminded that I forgot to feed her, the doorbell rang. I paused and looked at Byeol, my heart suddenly racing again. Who was that? Wonwoo lived twenty minutes away from me and it wasn’t even five minutes since I had called him, it couldn’t have been him. Was it…the person wearing that Ghostface mask? My heart started beating fast again and I glanced at Byeol as she started meowing loudly and took off towards the front door. The doorbell rang again and I hurried after my cat, calling out her name quietly.

“Stop!” I whisper-shouted, motioning at her to come to me, but she was ignoring me. Her meows were loud and I cursed quietly as I creeped towards the front door, convinced that it wasn’t Wonwoo, but that masked person. I should call the police. Suddenly there was loud knocking on the front door and I jumped as Byeol glanced at me.

“Y/N?!” Wonwoo’s deep voice made me sigh in relief as I quickly unlocked the front door and opened it for him. His hair was drenched and his jacket and jeans were wet too, it was pouring outside now. Byeol started meowing as Wonwoo stepped inside and he smiled at her, kneeling down to muzzle his face against her head. Byeol loved Wonwoo and they always played together a lot when Wonwoo came over. But…how did he get here so fast?

“Wonwoo—you’re drenched.” I muttered suspiciously as I helped him out of his jacket. He suddenly looked at me with a wide smile, ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, I was on my way here when the rain started.” He said with a shrug and I hung his jacket on the hanger.

“But you got here really fast…” I trailed off and watched him take off his shoes before he gave Byeol a swift kiss.

“Oh, yeah, I was already on my way—”

“Why?” I asked accusingly, eyebrows furrowed, and arms crossed in front of my chest. There were too many weird things happening today, I was freaked out. I couldn’t decide if my thoughts were real or I was being delusional. Could I seriously not trust my own boyfriend anymore? But he gave me no reasons…

Wonwoo looked taken aback by my tone and words, “Uhm…I just wanted to surprise you? You told me your mom was working the nightshift and I know you hate storms…”

He was right, I was overreacting, “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry—it’s just, lately I’m so jumpy.”

Wonwoo smiled and approached me, cupping my cheeks, “I noticed, but it’s fine. Things will get better eventually.”

I nodded and kissed his lips, their warmth bringing a sense of tranquility as I stepped closer to him. Wonwoo’s grip got firmer and our lips started moving against each other as I circled my arms around his neck, his wet hair tingling my wrists. One of his hand’s gripped my waist, and I hummed when his familiar scent hit my nose. It felt nice kissing him, I’ve been keeping my distance from Wonwoo, feeling uncomfortable lately with any physical contact besides a brief hug. And this felt nice now. His familiar lips, and firm grip, musky scent, I realized I had missed them. Byeol’s loud meowing broke us apart and I chuckled as I pressed another kiss against Wonwoo’s lips.

“Poor cat, she’s hungry…can you feed her while I bring you a towel?” I asked and Wonwoo nodded with a smile, releasing me from his hold as I turned and headed to the bathroom. Byeol followed Wonwoo as they headed into the kitchen and I could hear him pouring the cat food into her little bowl. I got a clean towel and then walked to the kitchen, handing it to Wonwoo.

“Do you want tea or hot chocolate?” I asked with a grin as I grabbed two mugs. Wonwoo pursed his lips and pulled out his glasses from the pocket of his hoodie.

“It’s a hot chocolate kind of night.”

“Right?!” I asked with a chuckle and he nodded at me amused.

“Do you still have my spare clothes?’ Wonwoo asked and I chuckled as I glanced back at him.

“What do you think?” He smirked at me and pushed up his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, “They are in the laundry room.”

Wonwoo thanked me and then walked away, leaving me with Byeol in the kitchen. While she quietly ate her food I prepared the hot chocolate for Wonwoo and I. He took his time to change out of his wet clothes and dried his hair with the towel as best as he could. When he joined us in the kitchen again, the hot chocolate were already ready and Byeol was somewhere off in the house, probably sleeping as she had just eaten. I handed Wonwoo a mug as he approached me and he thanked me with his signature gummy smile. I had always loved his smile, it made him look so cute. It was a nice contrast compared to his usual poker face. Wonwoo wasn’t very expressive usually, but when it was just the two of us, he could be very cute. He interlaced our fingers as we drank our hot chocolate and I giggled, raising my eyebrows at him.

“I missed you.” He whispered, looking down at his mug. I bit my lower lip and felt bad for pushing him away for so long, but I needed the space. I still do, but it’s not as bad as after the funeral.

“I’m sorry, I just felt uncomfortable around people after…” I trailed off and sighed, taking a sip of my hot chocolate. Wonwoo squeezed my hand.

“I understand you, and I’m not pressuring you in any way. It must hurt like hell losing your best friend.” I gulped a bit harder and glanced at Wonwoo briefly, noticing the change in his behavior. There it was again, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. It was confusing.

“Yeah, it hurts a lot. I hope the criminal is caught soon so that I can face them—”

“And what would you do?” Wonwoo sounded curious as he turned his body to face mine. I raised an eyebrow at him as I shrugged.

“That they are a piece of shit and I hope they rot away in prison until they get to root in hell.” Despite me being dead serious, Wonwoo started laughing and I pulled my hand out of his, slightly irritated.

“You’re hot when you get fired up, sugar.” Normally his compliments would leave me feeling giddy, but we were talking about the murderer of my best friend right now, there was nothing hot about it.

I shot Wonwoo a glare before walking to the sink to wash my mug, “I thought we were having a serious conversation, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo sighed and approached me, still sipping his hot chocolate, “Come on, I was just joking—”

“Well it’s not funny!” I snapped, looking at him, “Yerim was murdered and you’re telling me I’m hot when I talk about her murderer?!”

“No, that’s not hot, I was just saying you are—nevermind, I’m not in the mood to fight. You’ve been ignoring me for three weeks and when we finally get to spend some time together you’re just getting angry at me.” Wonwoo sounded accusing as he placed the mug forcefully in the sink and I rolled my eyes.

“What did you expect me to do? Jump in your arms the day after my friend’s funeral—”

“You didn’t have to push me away!” His voice raised and I turned to wash his mug too, hating it when he started getting loud while arguing, “I get that you don’t let me touch you, but you wouldn’t even speak to me, Y/N! If I knew you’d be like this I wouldn’t have let Soonyoung—”

I paused, turning to look at Wonwoo. He seemed speechless as he stared at me wide eyed, shaking his head. I turned off the water and faced him.

“What the hell are you even saying?” I asked confused, trying to comprehend his words but I didn’t understand what he was talking about. What had Soonyoung to do with our argument right now? What did he do?

“Nothing, I’m just—” Wonwoo shrugged and took a deep breath, composing himself, “I just missed you, that’s it. I hate arguing with you, you know that.”

“Yeah, well,” I scoffed and dried my hands in a towel, “I wouldn’t be arguing with you if you tried to understand my feelings—”

“I do understand.” He cut me off and my jaw clenched as I gave him a glare.

“I don’t feel it, but whatever, do you want to watch a movie or what?” Honestly, I wasn’t in the mood to watch anything, I just wanted to go to sleep, but I knew Wonwoo would bother me until I wasn’t grumpy.

“Do you want to watch one?” Wonwoo asked with a sigh, knowing that our previous conversation was over.

“No.” I muttered and he looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath.

“Do you want to go to sleep?” I nodded wordlessly and he pulled me into a hug, making me roll my eyes. I didn’t want to be hugged right now, but I didn’t push him away, just didn’t reciprocate the hug, “It’s still early to go to sleep.”

It wasn’t that early, but he was right, I would wake up during the night, probably, “Whatever, I want to go to bed.”

He groaned and suddenly I felt his hands gripping my thighs as I was hauled up, I yelped and grabbed onto him, “What are you doing?!”

Wonwoo said nothing as he took off and headed up the stairs, towards my room. He pushed the door open with his foot and walked towards my bed, before I could ask him to let me down, he fell forward, crushing me against the bed with his weight. I groaned as my bed’s mattress wasn’t soft.

“Wonwoo…” I muttered with a glare, grabbing his shoulders to push him off. He whined and didn’t move as he nuzzled his head in my neck, “You’re too heavy.”

“And you’re too grumpy.” He muttered and I slapped his shoulder, making him chuckle. I wanted him off, but he wasn’t budging. Before I could interject, he started pressing kisses against my neck, knowing well I was ticklish there, but I tried to keep my laughter in as I tried wrestling out from underneath him. Wonwoo was having the time of his life as he started laughing and tickling my sides too, making me cry out in despair as I hated being tickled.

“Stop! Wonwoo!” I tried to push his hands away, but it was futile. Wonwoo was giggling and quickly kissed my lips before he finally stopped tickling me, smiling at me mischievously. I glared at him and as I went to smack his arm, Byeol decided to join us as she jumped up on Wonwoo’s back. I started laughing as Wonwoo hissed, Byeol’s nails dug into his back, he deserved it after torturing me here.

“Hey, Byeol!” Wonwoo started shaking his back, trying to get my cat off of him, but it wasn’t working, so I started poking her, trying to get her off his back. And it worked, because Byeol jumped off and Wonwoo finally got off of me as well to start playing with my cat. He got on the floor and started pushing her lightly around, making Byeol land on her side as she started turning around, attacking Wonwoo’s fingers and jumping on his hand. I chuckled and left the two to play as I went to the bathroom to change into my pajamas and brush my teeth. I was too tired to shower, so I tried to be quick and when I walked back inside my room, Wonwoo and Byeol were still playing. I poked Byeol to rile her up more and she lunged for Wonwoo’s hand, making him hiss as I plugged in my phone. I looked at him and Wonwoo was glaring at Byeol.

“Did she scratch you?” I asked as Wonwoo got up and sat on my bed.

“Yeah.” He nodded and showed me his hand, two long, red, scratches decorating his hand. I pouted at him mockingly and kissed the scratches before laying down in my bed and pulling the blanket over my body.

“Don’t worry, soldier, those scratches won’t kill you for now.” I said mockingly and Wonwoo rolled his eyes, pulling the blanket over my head, but I managed to punch his bicep, making him groan. I giggled and pulled the blanket off, sticking my tongue out at him, “Are you coming to bed?”

“Nah,” Wonwoo stood and walked to my computer, “I want to play COD before I go to sleep.”

“Fine,” I muttered and closed my eyes, “but don’t stay up until late and check if we locked the front door before you come to bed.”

“Okay, mom.” Wonwoo muttered and I rolled my eyes, “Good night.”

“I love you.” I whispered and sighed, getting comfortable as Wonwoo turned off all the lights in my room and only left on the one at my desk. I heard Byeol moving around, no doubt she went to sleep in Wonwoo’s lap as he started playing Call of Duty.

           After Wonwoo left I had a whole three days to think about everything that’s been happening lately and they way Soonyoung and him were acting from time to time. It was getting quite obvious that there was something wrong with Soonyoung and it seems like only Yerim had noticed until now. The boy gets upset at the smallest of things and he’s always saying some fucked up shit about the people he doesn’t like, and it almost always involves a comment about how the Earth would be better off without them and that he could slay them in their sleep. I never paid attention to these comments because I thought he was just joking as he has always had a dark sense of humor. But it didn’t make sense why he was at the pool on the day Yerim died. I was the last person she called and somehow Soonyoung knew about her death. Was he perhaps nearby? But why would he be? Yerim refused to go on a date that evening, so there was no reason for Soonyoung to show up there. He was tough to deal with, but if he was told no, he wouldn’t bother you for a while. And his words kept bothering me still, ‘I just couldn’t help it’, what did he mean by them? What has he done? Wonwoo’s slip up about how he wouldn’t have let Soonyoung do whatever also didn’t sit right with me. I wished there was someone I could talk to about these crazy thoughts, but I knew how it would sound. Was I accusing Soonyoung of killing Yerim? Not exactly, but it started sounding like that. Was I suspecting my boyfriend’s best friend about being a murderer? I tried not to, but it was becoming difficult. So I decided to try and talk to him, sort things out with Soonyoung without accusing him of anything, just ask him all of the questions I desperately needed an answer to and everything would be alright. But Soonyoung started avoiding me, he wouldn’t talk to me if it was unnecessary and he’d only sit with me if Wonwoo was with us, and even then, he remained quiet. It was weird, Soonyoung talked a lot. I brought it up to Wonwoo and he said not to think too much about it as it was Soonyoung and his talkativeness depended a lot on his mood. I tried to explain to Wonwoo that I didn’t care about that, that it was his attitude which changed and that I wasn’t able to talk to him because he was avoiding me or ignoring me, but Wonwoo just shrugged it off and said that he didn’t notice anything weird with him. I knew it was futile to press the matter more, so I let it go and focused on other things. Sana and I started hanging out in the long breaks and it felt nice to have a girl to talk to again. However, one day, she freaked me out a bit.

“Did you notice how every murdered person has something to do with you so far?” She had asked as she took a bite of her sandwich. I had choked on my smoothie upon hearing her words.

“No? What are you talking about?” I had asked confused, goosebumps erupting on my skin.

“Well,” She had started saying as she gazed up at the sky, “Yerim was your best friend, you’ve known Seungkwan since you were little and well…you sort of knew Mina too, she was Wonwoo’s ex.”

Yes, I had known all these people, but I couldn’t follow Sana’s train of thought, “Yeah, but…it’s not like I’m the only one who knew them…”

“True,” Sana had hummed and then had looked at me, “Whatever, ignore what I said. I’ve just been thinking about it.”

So, we moved on with our conversation after that, however, her words made me think hard about what she had said. Somehow, she wasn’t wrong. I had known all three people, even if not from very close, they did have a significance in my life at some point, it made me shudder again. I thought about bringing it up to Wonwoo when we were hanging out after class, but I was scared he’d think I was going crazy. I was just desperate to find out who murdered and why my best friend, and all these other people. And what if I was the serial killer’s next target? Nobody was safe.

           Time flies by so fast you don’t even notice it. It feels like Yerim’s funeral was yesterday yet it’s Halloween already. Almost two months have had passed since losing her, and I was still getting used to it. I couldn’t say it was easier, but I was doing slightly better. Today was a particularly hard day as Halloween was Yerim and I’s favorite holiday. We’d always dress up in our favorite character at the moment and throw a small house party for our close friends. The rules were that we’d go trick or treating to each other and before midnight we’d gather at a bonfire and tell scary stories which have happened to us. It was a lot of fun each year and we couldn’t wait for it; however, it was my first Halloween without Yerim and it didn’t feel right. I was feeling nauseous all day long and quite moody as the weather had gotten colder too. Sana noticed my grumpiness and once I told her what the issue was she left me alone. Wonwoo wasn’t so understanding as we had talked about going to a Haunted House for fun months ago. He said he understood yet he was pressuring me in going with them. He promised it would be fun and that I shouldn’t stay at home and sulk all night long. I wasn’t sulking, I was trying to cope with the absence of my best friend, but it seemed like he didn’t understand that. So, very reluctantly, I agreed to go with him to the Haunted House. A few of his friends would be joining us, so I figured asking Sana if she’d like to come wouldn’t hurt anyone. She seemed quite excited once I told her and she promised to pick me up at around nine as Wonwoo wanted to go out beforehand with his friends. That was fine with me, I wasn’t in the mood to hang out with drunk teenage guys either way. They would get loud and pushy; I knew someone would bring up Yerim and it was the last thing I needed tonight. Mom was happy to see me going out and even encouraged me when I asked her to braid my hair. I wasn’t in the mood to go shopping for a costume, so I dressed in last year’s witch outfit. Nobody would care either way. Only Yerim actually cared, and she wasn’t here. Last year I was the one hosting the small party and I figured since I had a black cat I should dress up as a witch, it was a total success. Everyone loved the look and the vibes.

As nine o’clock approached, Sana texted me that she was right outside my house and after mom kissed my cheek and told me to have fun I left the house and jogged up to Sana’s extravagant car. They were quite rich and despite her being humble, her things screamed rich girl vibes.

“Hi!” She greeted me excited and I waved at her as I sat inside the car, “How are you?”

I sighed and closed the door, “Well, I had better days.”

“You look amazing though,” She patted my thigh and I nodded wordlessly, “If at any point you feel uncomfortable and want to come home, don’t feel hesitant to tell me. I’ll drive you.”

I felt my heart warming at her comment and gave her a genuine thankful smile, “Thank you.”

Sana wasn’t Yerim, and she’d never be, but it felt nice to have someone who was so understanding and kind. She’s shown me nothing but kindness since we started talking and it was refreshing. Sana was soft spoken and quiet usually, she didn’t speak unasked and often times we’d just sit in silence next to each other, enjoying each other’s presence. She was the total opposite of Yerim, yet we seemed to get along well. Sana made me feel seen and understood when nobody else could, perhaps that’s why I felt a little attached to her. I could only hope that she felt the same about me and didn’t think I was cold to her.

Once we got to the Haunted House the place was buzzing with people, everyone was excited for the new addition of the Amusement Park. It was a Halloween special and it was the first year they had opened a Haunted House for Halloween. Yerim would’ve loved coming here, we’ve discussed our outfits for tonight quite often and how much fun we’d have at the Haunted House, but now I had to do all of that alone. I owed it to her at least. Finding Wonwoo wasn’t hard as he and his friends had come with their bikes and they were gathered at the entrance of the Park, being loud and annoying. Sana followed after me as I was headed their way. I spotted Wonwoo next to his motorbike and walked towards him, catching his attention when I got nearby. He grinned at me and opened his arms once I was next to him, pulling me in a big hug.

“Hello, beautiful.” I smiled and pulled back, kissing his cheek. His friends got quiet and I faced them, waving at everyone. They greeted me back and I glanced at Sana before clearing my throat.

“This is Sana,” I introduced her to everyone, and starting from our left started introducing the boys, “That’s Minghao, Vernon, Soonyoung and Jeonghan.”

“Nice to meet you!” Sana smiled and the boys quickly greeted her, Minghao shaking her hand and introducing himself individually too. I chuckled and looked at Wonwoo who was smirking. Minghao wasn’t very interested in girls, but when he was, he made it quite obvious and Sana was a gorgeous girl. Jeonghan was smirking to our right as he watched me and I noticed, so I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Looking quite ravishing, Y/N.” Jeonghan said in a flirty tone and I felt Wonwoo’s arm tightening around my shoulders. Jeonghan was quite flirty, even with me. I used to think he was annoying, but after getting to know him better, I realized he flirted even with his guy friends, I figured it’s just the way he was. Besides, he was no threat when it came to Wonwoo, I was too in love with my boyfriend to find any other guy interesting enough. Sometimes I wished Wonwoo understood that too and stopped being jealous, but I figured he was just the possessive type.

“Thank you, interesting choice of outfit, Jeonghan.” I commented, making Soonyoung laugh as he pushed off his bike. I glanced at him but he was avoiding eye contact, still.

“Who dresses up as a cat, Jeonghan?” Soonyoung teased but Jeonghan just shrugged and pushed his long hair behind his shoulders.

“I do, why? Are you falling in love with me?” Jeonghan started leaning towards Soonyoung who flicked him off and grabbed his backpack off his bike.

“Yeah, right.” He muttered sarcastically and Minghao smiled, speaking up.

“Are we going in then?”

“Yes, let’s go!” Vernon said with excitement lacing his voice and I nodded, sighing quietly. Wonwoo noticed and looked down at me.

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly as we took off towards the ticket booth. I nodded and pressed a kiss against his lips, bringing a smile on his face. He bopped our noses together before we joined the others in line, waiting to buy our tickets too.

           The night seemed to be going well, everyone was having fun. Sana and Vernon seemed to be hitting it off quite well, much to Minghao’s disappointment. Jeonghan kept giggling as Minghao continued sulking while we watched Sana and Vernon play a shooting game in order to win a pink teddy bear. Sana really wanted it, but after missing almost all targets she walked away sulkily and that’s all it took Vernon to try his luck, and he seemed to be doing really well.

“Does our little Vernon have a new crush?” It was the first time in a while Soonyoung addressed me directly and I looked at him surprised. Was he done ignoring me and avoiding me?

“Who knows, but I don’t blame him.” I said with a shrug and Soonyoung looked at me.

“Good for him, she never liked me.” Soonyoung sounded a little bitter and it made me remember that Wonwoo and Mina once were together, of course Soonyoung and Sana knew each other. But I didn’t know he was into her…much like he was into Yerim as well. Interesting pattern, I thought to myself as my eyebrows lightly furrowed. Soonyoung seemed to notice and he cleared his throat, looking off in the distance.

“Do you want some cotton candy?” He asked as he took out his wallet.

“No, thank you, Wonwoo is buying some caramel popcorn for us.” I declined nicely and Soonyoung nodded.

“I’ll be right back.” He said before walking off to the cotton candy booth, buying one for himself. I continued watching Vernon and Sana as they both laughed, trying their luck for another plushie, this time it was a blue shark. Wonwoo was buying popcorn not far away and Jeonghan and Minghao decided to ride a very scary looking roller-coaster. They didn’t want to come to the Haunted House with us so we agreed to meet in an hour at the Ferris-wheel as we had to wait a little for our tour at the Haunted House. They only let in around ten people at every half an hour. Chuckling at Vernon’s dramatic fail at hitting the last target, I noticed someone in my peripheral vision. The person seemed to be approaching me and as I turned my head a wide smile erupted on my lips. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I hadn’t seen him in ages. It was Seonghwa, my ex-boyfriend. He was my first serious boyfriend and I only had fond memories of him. We parted on friendly terms and have been civil with each other ever since. He moved away two years ago, so it was a surprise to see him here.

“Seonghwa!” I exclaimed as I ran up to him and engulfed him in a hug. He giggled and hugged me back just as tightly. He had gotten taller since the last time we saw each other. He still had that bubble gum scent, it made me giddy.

“Y/N, I would’ve never thought we’d meet here of all places!” He said with a laugh as we let go of each other and took a small step back.

“Right?!” I chuckled as we smiled widely at each other, “I didn’t even know you were back in town!”

“Yeah, it’s a brief visit, so I didn’t tell anyone.” He scratched his nape awkwardly, “I wasn’t even supposed to be here, but San and Wooyoung dragged me here because of the Haunted House.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s a hot topic at the moment. I wasn’t in the mood to come, but I promised Wonwoo we’d go so…” I trailed off with a sigh and Seonghwa nodded.

“How is he?” He asked with a polite smile and I shrugged, looking around for him.

“He’s fine, just the usual.” I answered and Seonghwa nodded.

“I, uh—” He cleared his throat, “I heard what happened to Yerim. I’m very sorry for your loss. She didn’t deserve that.”

I looked away and gulped, hating that she was the topic, but I knew Seonghwa didn’t mean bad, “Thank you, she really didn’t. She was taken from us so early…”

Seonghwa gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “I’m always here for you, I hope you know that.”

“I do.” His words brought a smile to my face, even after breaking up, Seonghwa was always there to support me and cheer me up until he had to move away. He was a kind soul always looking out for others, “How’s your grandma?”

“She’s the reason I’m visiting, actually, she’s not doing so well.” Seonghwa’s voice lowered and he looked down, it was my turn to offer him a reassuring pat.

“I’m sad to hear that, I hope she gets better.” Seonghwa nodded and I could hear them before seeing them. Wooyoung was almost screaming as he was telling San to let him go to the teddy bear booth. He wanted to get the blue shark Vernon lost, but San wasn’t letting him as he had spent too much money already. Seonghwa and I looked at each other before we burst out laughing.

He shook his head and sighed tiredly, “I better go and do some damage control before we get kicked out.”

I laughed and nodded, ushering him away, “When are you going to the Haunted House?”

Seonghwa glanced at his wrist watch, “In about ten minutes.”

“Oh, that’s great! Us too!” Seonghwa had an excited smile on his face as he waved at me and quickly ran up to San and Wooyoung, who were full on arguing by now. I chuckled and shook my head, but quickly jumped when someone gripped my arm.

“Who was that?” Wonwoo’s deep voice whispered in my ear and I turned to face him with a grin.

“Seonghwa!” I answered him and Wonwoo hummed as he released me and looked after Seonghwa who was now standing in between San and Wooyoung, talking and making exaggerated hand gestures. I had to laugh as I watched them. Wonwoo had known about Seonghwa, but he’s never seen him in person. Wonwoo and I started dating a few days after Seonghwa moved away.

“And those two idiots are his best friends, San and Wooyoung.” I explained to Wonwoo as he started eating our popcorn, “They are very loud, argue almost all the time and like to cause trouble. Poor Seonghwa…sometimes I pity him for having left him alone with those two devils.”

Wonwoo gave me a quick glance before he interlaced our fingers and pulled me away, walking us towards the Haunted House, “Well you’re not their mother, so I’m glad I stole you away.”

I rolled my eyes and gave Wonwoo a look, “You didn’t steal me away, dumbass, Seonghwa and I had broken up a year before I started dating you. The only thing you stole is my heart.”

My last comment brought a smug grin on Wonwoo’s lips and he kissed me before acting like nothing happened, “I love you.”

I laughed and leaned closer to him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

Wonwoo looked at me from the corner of his eyes, “You did.”

“No, I didn’t.” I shook my head and pouted at him.

“Yes, you did.”

“How could I, everyone is so loud and you were speaking so quietly.”

“I love you.” Wonwoo said with a groan, louder this time, and I giggled as I punched his stomach playfully and grabbed some popcorn into my hands. He rolled his eyes and rested his arm around my shoulders as we spotted the others in front of the Haunted House staying in line and joined them.

            The Haunted House was a twenty-minute walk and it was quite well done. I got a good scare right as we started the tour, a killer doctor jumped in front of Wonwoo and I, and I screamed the loudest, scaring Sana and Vernon who were behind us. Wooyoung and San, who were at the front with Seonghwa, started laughing at me and I stuck my tongue out at Wooyoung. However, he got his payback when a black fake spider was dropped on his head and he almost passed out from screaming so loud, making the whole group erupt in loud laughter. Vernon seemed to like their vibes as he dragged Sana to the front to be with them and I chuckled as I looked at Wonwoo.

“San and Wooyoung can be fun people, but they tire you out very quickly.” I told my boyfriend as we walked through a very dark zone, ghostly voices coming from the speakers. I was holding his hand tightly and I could feel his shoulder grazing mine lightly.

“Did you spend a lot of time with them?” He asked curiously.

“I did,” I chuckled, remembering all the fun I used to have with them and Seonghwa, “On Friday’s we’d go to the diner and after we’d go karting, it was a lot of fun. It was a tradition of ours which was started by Wooyoung.”

“Sounds nice,” Wonwoo muttered and then I felt him squeezing my hand when we heard footsteps running behind us, “Why don’t we have something similar?”

His question made me think. I didn’t exactly know, maybe because Wonwoo didn’t invite me to hang out with his friends quite often, so I wasn’t very close to them besides Soonyoung, “I don’t know, I figured you don’t like it when I hang out with you and your friends.”

“That’s not true,” Wonwoo scoffed as a marionette was hung in front of us, dangling limply and I flinched, “I don’t mind you hanging out with us.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I told him as we were partially blinded by green neon lights, “You never told me that though. And you never invited me out with you guys either…”

Wonwoo was silent as he glanced at me and stepped in front of me when a man dressed in Frankenstein ran towards us. I could hear Sana giggling in the next room and I pulled Wonwoo after me, entering the room just in time to see Wooyoung threateningly throwing punches at a skeleton and cussing at it. San was laughing loudly and Seonghwa was apologizing to the masked man as he clutched his shoulder. Sana and Vernon were watching it unfold with amusement, and I chuckled as Wonwoo and I approached them.

“What did he do this time?” I asked Seonghwa while pointing at Wooyoung, but it was San who answered me.

“The vampire jumped out of its coffin and Wooyoung punched it.” It made me laugh too as Seonghwa dragged his friend away from the skeleton before bowing at the vampire guy again. The guy just told us to go on and went back inside his coffin.

“Ah, Y/N, finally!” Wooyoung exclaimed once he saw me talking to San and ran up to me, throwing his arm around my shoulders as he pulled me with himself to the front. I glanced back at Wonwoo, but he just smiled and nodded, joining Vernon and Sana at the back of the group. Soonyoung and the other three people who came with us seemed to be much more ahead of us, so our little group stuck together.

“I hear you’ve been causing problems all night long, Wooyoung.” I narrowed my eyes at my friend and he chuckled, placing a hand on his chest.

“Non-sense, was it Seonghwa who told you that? You know he’s always lying and overreacting!” I chuckled as Seonghwa slapped the back of Wooyoung’s head and San glanced back at us with a grin before he opened the next door. The room was pitch black and I gulped, a bit nervous about entering it. I knew Wooyoung wouldn’t release me, he knew I hated the dark, but I still preferred being with Wonwoo right now.

“It’s good that our gang is back together.” It was San who was talking and I lightly ran into him as he stopped to wait for us. He seemed unbothered by the whole tour and was just laughing at everything and making fun of Wooyoung any chance he got.

“Yeah, I missed you.” Wooyoung said and squeezed my shoulder as I lightly held onto his hoodie, scared a bit. I knew Seonghwa was next to me, on my left, and San in front of me and the others behind, but I still felt uneasy.

“I missed you too, although you’re being a pain in the ass—”

“Am not!” Wooyoung exclaimed and soon screamed as a strong light was flashed in our faces and fake bats came flying towards us. I screamed too and ducked as I held onto my head, scared they’d get entangled into my braided hair. San was laughing as he caught one and started antagonizing Wooyoung with it, running after him as they ran into the next room. Seonghwa was quick to approach me and help me stand, but Wonwoo was by my side instantly, and the two looked at each other as each held my arm. I chuckled awkwardly and shook off their grips, standing up on my own.

“Sorry, I hate bats.” I muttered embarrassed as Vernon and Sana walked by us.

“I know.” Both boys said at the same time and I felt awkward as they looked at each other before Wonwoo cleared his throat and Seonghwa scratched his nape.

“Uhm, let’s go?” I proposed and they both nodded as we took off, Seonghwa going in front of us as I intertwined my fingers with Wonwoo, who was glaring at the back of my ex-boyfriend’s head.

“Stop it.” I whispered at Wonwoo and his jaw clenched, “Wonwoo, you know he means no harm.”

“I don’t like it when other guys touch you, Y/N.” Wonwoo snapped at me and I sighed, side eyeing him.

“Jesus, he just tried to help me up—”

“I was there already; he didn’t have to.” Wonwoo’s voice raised lightly and I stopped walking and faced him as I was sure Seonghwa could hear it all and I didn’t want to make him feel more uncomfortable.

“Can you stop acting like this? Have I given you any reason to be jealous, Wonwoo?” I called out my boyfriend and he rolled his eyes, releasing my hand.

“You have no trouble being so friendly with him.”

“Maybe because we remained friends?!” I exclaimed and Wonwoo just sighed, walking by me, “Seriously?”

“What? I’m curious what’s in the next room.” He muttered and I rolled my eyes as I followed after him. What a way to ruin the little fun I started having. I just sighed as I followed behind Wonwoo, not even interested anymore in the Haunted House and all of the different masked people jumping out in front of me, trying to scare me. Seonghwa was back at the front, San and Wooyoung pulling him in all kinds of directions as he didn’t turn around anymore, keeping his distance. I felt bad for him and reminded myself to apologize for Wonwoo’s behavior, reassuring him that he did nothing wrong and Wonwoo sometimes overreacted. There were flashing lights in the room we were in currently and ghosts hung from the ceiling as people were screaming through the speakers. I sighed and shielded my eyes, the lights hurting them as I hurried towards the last door. The others were outside already and I was left behind, I didn’t notice that everyone walked out while I was getting lost in my thoughts. Just as I was about to touch the doorknob, a dressed up person jumped in front of me, blocking my way. I gasped and jumped back, eyes widening when I came face to face with a Ghostface. The person wore a black gown and a real looking knife was in its hand. My heart started racing and I started backing away from the person, getting flashbacks from the night they had shown up at my house.

“What—what are you—” The Ghostface chuckled and slowly approached me.

“I’m a Ghostface.” The voice was still as glitchy, but lower than the one I had talked to on the phone, “Hello, beautiful.”

I shuddered at the words and gulped, “Who are you?”

The person behind the mask chuckled and twirled around, “An actor? Hired by the Haunted House?”

My heart was racing, but their words seemed to calm me down a little bit. Of course, we were at the Haunted House and this person was an actor hired to scare people. And they did a good job at scaring me.

“Right, sorry—” I chuckled, “You gave me a good scare.”

“That’s my job.” The Ghostface bowed and I smiled, “Did you enjoy the tour?”

“Are you this nice and talkative with everyone?” I raised my eyebrows as I held my hands behind my back. The Ghostface started circling me, making me turn my head to see them.

“Only with the beautiful ones.” They answered and I rolled my eyes, not into cheesy flirting.

“How cheesy.” I muttered and the Ghostface seemed to laugh as they came to a stop in front of me. It looked as they looked down before raising their head back up and I saw the knife glinting in the dim light as it lightly touched my chin and they raised my head with it. The air caught in my throat a little as I felt the sturdiness of the knife. It was either a very real looking and feeling prop or it was a real knife.

“And tell me…do you like bad guys?” The Ghostface asked smugly and I laughed nervously.

“Not really.”

“Isn’t your boyfriend a bad boy?” Well, that’s not how I’d describe Wonwoo if someone asked me. He looked like a bad boy, but he was actually a very nice and loving guy.

“Not really,” I chuckled and quietly let out a sigh when the person lowered the knife from my chin, “He’s well raised and really nice.”

“And do you love him?” Wasn’t this Ghostface a little too curious?

“Of course I do.” I said matter of factly and the Ghostface hummed just as the door opened. Light poured in from the outside and I squinted until the door was closed again. I instantly recognized the person once my eyes adjusted to the light again, it was Seonghwa.

“Y/N, are you alright?” He asked worriedly as he walked up to me, “I saw you weren’t with the group and nobody knew where you were.”

I smiled at him sweetly and nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just fell behind accidentally and Ghostface over there seemed to be quite interested.”

Seonghwa looked over to where the Ghostface stood and his eyebrows furrowed, “Oh? They didn’t show up when we walked through this room.”

I turned to look at the Ghostface as well and I gulped as dread washed over me, slowly realizing what was happening, “Seonghwa—” But before I could scream at him to run, the Ghostface charged at us and I yelped as they pushed me to the ground and pinned Seonghwa to the wall. I watched wide eyed as Seonghwa struggled against them and as I got to my feet, I saw the Ghostface raise their knife. My heart stopped for a second and I didn’t even realize I had screamed as the knife slashed Seonghwa’s abdomen. He cried out in pain and the Ghostface stepped back a bit as he angled their knife at Seonghwa’s stomach. I was shaking, but I couldn’t just sit on the ground and watch as they murder my ex-boyfriend.

“Y/N, run!” Seonghwa exclaimed as the Ghostface poked his stomach, but I was fast enough and got up in time and ran over, knocking the Ghostface aside. They gasped in surprise and I could feel their gaze burning into me through the mask. I turned to face Seonghwa and with shaky hands caught him as he slid down the wall.

“No, Seonghwa!” I exclaimed, hand getting bloody as I pressed it against his smaller wound, momentarily not knowing what to do.

“Get out!” Seonghwa whispered as he grimaced in pain, pulling out his phone. I turned around and came face to face with the Ghostface, gasping at the proximity. I didn’t know who was behind the mask, but I wasn’t about to go down without a fight. I punched their shoulder and took the knife out of their hand, throwing it on the ground as I started punching their abdomen. The Ghostface groaned and tried catching my hands, struggling to do so until they had me pinned against the wall. I tried fighting myself out of their hold, but they were stronger.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” The Ghostface said breathlessly and I glared at them, kneeling them, making them double over.

“You shouldn’t have hurt my friends!” I screamed and kneeled them in the stomach this time, sending the person onto the ground. I ran back to Seonghwa and saw him trying to call the cops, but there was no signal inside.

“Let’s go.” I whispered and tried to control my shaking as I attempted to help Seonghwa stand, but just as he warned me, I was tackled to the ground. I screamed again, and suddenly, a hand was muffling my screams. A bare hand. Long fingers, warm, soft palm. My heart was beating like crazy and I felt a tear run down my cheeks when I noticed the Ghostface holding the knife again. Was I about to die too? But they didn’t move, we were just staring at each other. The hold on my mouth seemed to loosen and I glanced down at it, heart jumping in my throat when I noticed two long, red scratches on the person’s hand. Why did they look like cat scratches? Why did their hand feel like Wonwoo’s? A groan to our right got both of our attention and I saw Seonghwa approaching us, almost stumbling, but as the Ghostface got off of me, Seonghwa swung his fist at the person’s jaw, sending them stumbling into the wall. I got up and grabbed Seonghwa, placing his arm around my shoulders as I held his hip and we made a run for the exit. He was groaning in pain but still remained strong as we could hear the Ghostface shuffling around and catching up with us, but just as I felt them gripping onto Seonghwa’s shoulder, I kicked the door open, light flooding the room. Everyone was standing there, waiting for us probably, and when they saw the blood coating Seonghwa’s torso and my hands, chaos erupted. Wooyoung ran up to us in despair and started shouting things, asking what happened as I yelled out for them to call an ambulance. Vernon rushed up to us and helped Wooyoung as they took Seonghwa’s weight off of me and carefully placed him on a nearby bench as San called for an ambulance. Sana was by my side instantly and I realized my whole body was shaking as I looked around for familiar faces. She was talking to me, but I was searching for one person. Jeonghan and Minghao looked shocked as they stood helplessly by the bench, watching Seonghwa struggling to stay awake. Wooyoung was freaking out and San was holding onto him tightly as they talked to Seonghwa, trying to divert his attention from the pain. Vernon was trying to stop the bleeding as his father is a doctor and he knows this and that. Soonyoung was off to the side, looking almost sick yet unimpressed as he talked on the phone with someone. And Sana was hugging me tightly, saying reassuring things to me which I was unable to hear due to my ears ringing. Wonwoo. Wonwoo wasn’t anywhere to be seen. I gulped and hugged Sana back, hearing the ambulance sirens in the distance. Wonwoo wasn’t here with us.

           My mother was reluctant to let me go to school the next day, understandably so. I barely got any sleep after last night’s incident. As Seonghwa was placed inside the ambulance and driven to a hospital, two detectives approached the rest of us and started their questioning. We were brought to the side separately and asked to retell our whole night. Of course, I was the one they questioned first as they knew I was inside with Seonghwa when the attack happened. I was shaken up and on the verge of crying, but surprisingly, Wooyoung and San stood by my side and tried to cheer me up until my mother got to us. After finishing my retelling of story, I walked to the side and sat down, curling into a ball as I felt arms holding me. It was Sana and she remained quiet as she tried to offer me some support. I appreciated her gesture, but I would’ve preferred being left alone at the moment. My mind was swirling with questions and I was frightened out of my mind. Wonwoo was nowhere to be seen and I couldn’t help but think he was the one behind the mask. Could it really be my boyfriend? The killer? I bit my lower lip at the thought and my head whipped up as I heard Wonwoo’s deep voice, laced with terror and panic as he was asking around for me. Just as we made eye contact, the two detectives stepped in front of him and brought him aside to question him as well. I could feel his gaze on me, but my mother had arrived and she was by my side in an instant, helping me up and she gave me tightest hug ever. I started crying when I felt her arms around me and she quietly shushed me, thanking Sana for sitting with me. She noticed San and Wooyoung too, nodding at them as a small greeting before she walked me towards her car. I didn’t talk to Wonwoo that night, but perhaps it was good, because I had no idea what I could’ve said to him.

Mom insisted on driving me to school this morning and I didn’t object; I wasn’t in the mood to ride the bus and act as if I didn’t feel my classmates burning gazes. I knew everyone would whisper about me again. I hated this all. I hated the killer. I hated that Yerim wasn’t here. And I hated the fact that I was helpless and couldn’t help a person who once was so dear to me. Thankfully, Seonghwa got to the hospital in time as he was losing blood fast and since he was stabilized quite quickly, he’d survive. I asked my mother to stop by his ward from time to time, to check up on him. She complied happily and told me she’d update me; I was really thankful. Before getting out of her car, I kissed my mother’s cheek, making her smile sadly at me. I had dark bags underneath my eyes and despite tying my hair up, it looked like a mess. I felt miserable, and I looked miserable. The baggy clothes weren’t helping much to offer me comfort, all I could do was sigh and pull the hood of my hoodie over my head and walk to my classroom. Everyone seemed to have eagle eyes, because as soon as I opened the entrance door, people noticed me. Some started instantly whispering, there were a few who were ignoring me or stepping out of my way as if I would hurt them, some would stop conversing and stare at me like I was some sort of freak. I hung my head low and walked up to my locker, opening it to place my backpack inside it. I sighed as I got my science book and two notebooks out, off to walk to my classroom. Sana texted me that she wasn’t feeling well and she wouldn’t attend school today, apologizing for leaving me alone. I didn’t text her back, but I appreciated her letting me know. Surprisingly it was San and Wooyoung who approached me as I was walking up the stairs.

“Couldn’t sleep?” I heard San asking me and I raised my head, eyes wide.

“Oh, I didn’t see you—” Wooyoung had a warm smile on his lips and I looked back down at the ground, “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Us neither.” Wooyoung muttered and San cleared his throat, “We visited Seonghwa before coming to school.”

“How is he?” I asked quickly, looking back up at the two boys.

“He’s in pain, but he’s doing good despite that huge cut—” San elbowed Wooyoung and I gulped, averting my eyes from them, “I mean, he’s fine, don’t worry. He asked us to tell you that he’s grateful you saved him and he hopes you’ll visit him when you feel ready.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded at the two boys wordlessly, “Thank you.”

“No problem, you know where to find us.” San smiled and bumped his shoulder with mine lightly as we got to my floor, they had to go up one more flight of stairs. I nodded at them and they waved as they took off. I sighed and took off too, headed towards my classroom, the hallway not as packed as downstairs. A few students glanced at me but seemed to ignore me mostly, it made me feel slightly better. Not too good, but at least they weren’t staring or whispering. As I looked up, I suddenly froze. Wonwoo. He was standing next to my classroom’s door, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets as he was biting his lip, looking anxious. I gulped and slowly approached him, wary still. His head turned and when he noticed me he pushed off the wall and approached me, instantly pulling me into a hug. I felt tears in my eyes as I buried my head in his chest and Wonwoo rubbed my back up and down. I grabbed his jacket and tried to keep silent as I started crying, scared and confused. How could I think it was Wonwoo? My loving boyfriend. I was so scared something happened to him. But why was he not outside when everybody else was?

“I’m so glad—” Wonwoo’s voice was low and raspy, as if he had been screaming all night long, “I’m so glad you’re alright. I was so scared—I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you from that criminal, I—”

“Where were you?” I found myself whispering, desperately needing an answer to this one question only.

Wonwoo remained silent before he sighed, “I caught up with Soonyoung and then I went to the bathroom, when I got back everything had already happened—”

“Okay,” I whispered and sniffed, pulling my head back to look at him, “Don’t blame yourself. I’m fine and Seonghwa will recover.”

Wonwoo’s jaw clenched and as I was looking up at him, my eyes fell on his jawline. There was a small bruise forming, slightly greenish already. My eyebrows furrowed and I felt my heart starting to beat fast. Seonghwa—he punched the Ghostface in the jaw, same exact location, before we ran out. I gulped, hands slightly shaking, as I took Wonwoo’s right hand and interlaced our fingers, bringing it up to my eye level. Wonwoo watched me wordlessly, eyebrows slightly furrowed. I maintained eye contact as I brought his hand to my lips, pressing a kiss against it. And just before lowering it, I glanced down, and my blood ran cold. There. On his hand. Red scratches which Byeol left on him when they were playing. His hand, bare. Long fingers, warm, soft palm. I shivered and stepped back, releasing his hand as I tried to act nonchalant. Wonwoo watched me confused as I stumbled over my words.

“I—I have to go—” I opened the classroom door, avoiding eye contact, “I’m late.”

“Y/N—” But I stepped inside the classroom and slammed the door shut, biting my lower lip, whole body shaking as I approached my desk and sat down. It was Wonwoo last night. Right? Was it really him? What do I do?

           My mother tried to switch her shifts with a nurse she was friends with, but she couldn’t make it. She didn’t want to take the night shift tonight, worried to leave me home alone, but I reassured her I would be fine. In fact, I felt like shit and didn’t want to be alone, but remained silent and decided to have a Harry Potter marathon, that way I wouldn’t fall asleep and could wait for my mother to return home in the morning. It was a Friday, so it would work out. I desperately needed a good sleep, but I could deal with that later. I cooked some dinner for myself and played with Byeol, but after she got bored and went to sleep in my room, I decided to take a shower and start the movie marathon. I definitely lost track of time while showering, because my phone kept ringing, but I didn’t feel like answering. My mother would never call me while working, so I knew it was Wonwoo. But I didn’t want to talk to him. My mind was a mess and I didn’t know what to believe anymore. He couldn’t be the killer, but some signs were pointing at him and it was eating me up alive. I was scared and confused. My gut told me to sleep on it and ask him tomorrow, but for some reason staying away from him felt most comforting. Getting out of the shower I got dressed in sweatpants and Yerim’s favorite pink hoodie, eyeing Wonwoo’s sweater resting on my chair. He left it here when he slept over and told me to keep it until he’d sleep over again. Brushing my fingers against it as I towel dried my hair with one hand, I shivered. Its scent once brought comfort, but now I felt uncomfortable. Byeol was sitting on my bed and for once it wasn’t storming outside, I was thankful. Just as I placed my towel on my desk, my phone rang again. I sighed and walked up to it as it was charging on my nightstand, and despite expecting it to be Wonwoo calling, it was an unknown number. My eyebrows furrowed and my heart started racing as I remembered the time when I spoke with the Ghostface on Yerim’s phone. I took my phone and walked to the window, looking through the curtain.

“Hello?” I asked as I picked up the call, chewing on my lip. There was some heavy breathing on the other side, freaking me out.

“Hi.” I froze for a second as the Ghostface’s robotic voice came through the phone. What did they want? Were they here to kill me? The thought sent panic through my body and I quickly made sure my window was locked before pulling down the blinds as well.

“What do you want?” I demanded, voice shaking but still harsh.

The Ghostface chuckled, “You gone.”

I shuddered as tears suddenly sprung into my eyes, “You killed Yerim, didn’t you?”

“I did.” Was their answer and I sniffed, wiping away a tear as I raced down the stairs, to make sure all doors were locked.

“Why?”

“Multiple reasons,” The Ghostface sighed as I checked the front door, “One, she was always rude to me. Two, she never gave me a chance and the list just goes on, Y/N.”

“So you killed her.” I said accusingly, checking the door in the living room as well. It wasn’t locked, but I locked it now and pulled the curtains closed as well.

“Well she pissed me off to my last nerve, didn’t have much off a choice—”

“You don’t kill someone because they piss you off!” I screamed into the phone, shaking and fuming. How could they?! Kill someone because they pissed them off?! This is not how life works.

“I do.” The Ghostface laughed and I felt like screaming.

“What do you want?” I repeated, body shaking from anger and fear too.

“To kill you, honestly, I’ve had enough of you too.” I gulped and turned by back to the door, walking back outside in the hallway.

“I won’t go down easy.” I muttered and the Ghostface just laughed.

“A fragile girl can’t do much damage to me, sweetheart.” They said and I chuckled sarcastically.

“You’ll have to wait for another night then, you can’t come in if the doors and windows are all locked.”

“They are locked, now.” I froze, heart thumping fast, “But they weren’t until you locked the one in the living room just minutes ago.”

The voice now didn’t come through the phone only, they were here. Inside. Close. Too close. Shakingly, I slowly turned towards the kitchen entrance, and screamed. The same person from the Haunted House was standing in the doorway of my kitchen. Black gown and a Ghostface mask, glows, and a sharp knife in their hand. The Ghostface laughed, dropping the phone as it took off towards me and I panicked, showing the phone in the hoodie’s pocket as I started running, headed for the laundry room. I quickly entered and locked the door, whimpering when the person started pounding on it. Why did they want to kill me? What did I do? Who was behind the mask? As I reached for my phone to call the police, the pounding stopped, the sudden silence making me jump. Did they leave already?

“If you don’t come out, I’ll start with Byeol.” I whimpered and covered my lips, tears streaming down my cheeks at the thought of the person killing my cat. How did they know her name? I couldn’t let them kill her, she was my everything, “I’m headed to find her—”

“Stop!” I screamed and gripped the doorknob, “I’ll come out, just don’t hurt her.”

The Ghostface laughed and I heard them grumbling, “Stupid people with love for their stupid animals.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, readying myself to face the criminal on the other side of the door. If I had to die tonight, then I would. But I wouldn’t go down without a fight. I was feeling extremely hot in the hoodie, but it was Yerim’s, and all of a sudden, a wave of bravery washed over me as if Yerim was telling me that I could do it, that I could survive. If she believed in me, then I could believe in myself too. Wiping my stray tears away, I unlocked the door. The click of it seemed to be so loud in the silence, and with shaking hands, I pushed open the door. It opened very slowly and I held onto the doorknob tightly. There it was. The Ghostface, leaning against the wall. I couldn’t see their face, but I could swear they were smirking. I was glaring at them, breathing hard as I released the doorknob.

“There you are.” They said in a sing song voice, suddenly raising their knife. It was my cue to run off. And so I did just that, I took off, and ran towards the kitchen. The only problem was that it had no doors and two entrances. My goal was to get the Ghostface to follow me outside, far away from my cat and close enough to other people to see and call the cops for me. Their loud thumping made it obvious enough that they were following me and I stopped in front of the sink, the counter putting distance between us. Nobody said anything, we just stared each other down. My muscles were tense and I felt the adrenaline kicking in, making my shaking even worse. Before the Ghostface could react, I took off again, running for the door. I barely got in the doorway, when a hand gripped my hair and I was hauled back. I cried out in pain and quickly groaned as I was thrown on the floor.

“Yerim screamed a lot more than you, you know?” The Ghostface taunted and I sneered at them as I got up, getting backed into the wall. What could I do? Take their knife would be an option. The Ghostface raised the knife and lightly grazed it against my neck, making me gasp. I was breathing through my mouth, barely able to think of my next move. They raised their other hand and gripped my neck, pulling our faces close to each other.

“But you both seem to be just as dumb—” And just like that I headbutted them. I didn’t wait for them to finish the sentence or plunge the knife in my stomach. The person stumbled backwards and dropped their knife in shock. What a dumb move. I reacted faster and picked it up in a flash, pointing it at them.

“How does it feel to have your own weapon pointed at you?” I hissed and the Ghostface groaned, starting to stomp their feet. Were they seriously throwing a tantrum right now? I watched confused, but stayed alert.

“You’re not ruining my fun tonight, Y/N!” They screamed and charged at me. The smart thing to do would’ve been running away and out of the house, but I froze. If I had the knife, could they still kill me? Of course, there were many ways to do that, but my brain went blank. And just last second, I dropped the knife, scared to stab anyone. I wasn’t a killer; I couldn’t do it. The Ghostface grabbed my neck and started squeezing it, but I was fighting back. I wasn’t about to die. I tried pushing him backwards, and it was working. The Ghostface was muttering things I couldn’t understand, but I stumbled and stepped on their long gown. The person tripped over my leg and before I knew it, their hands were gone from my neck and they were falling backwards. I gasped and watched as the person hit their head on the edge of the counter and fell to the floor limply. I stood shocked, not knowing what to do. They weren’t moving anymore, I carefully pushed their leg with my foot, but they didn’t react. I approached them, heart racing and forehead sweaty as I leaned down and touched the mask. I had to know. I had to know who killed my best friend, Mina, Seungkwan and tried to kill Seonghwa and now me. So, without thinking for another second, I ripped the mask off. I felt my body going numb at the sight, ears ringing as I stared down at the blond laying unconsciously on my kitchen floor. My lips started trembling and my body started shaking more violently as I clutched the mask tightly, hand hurting from the force. Kwon Soonyoung lay unconscious in front of me. Blood was slowly seeping from underneath his head. How could it be him? I started crying loudly and threw the Ghostface mask on the floor, stomping on it and screaming. How could he kill Yerim?! How could he! In all the ruckus and screaming, Byeol woke up and her loud meows were the ones which brought me back to reality. She was staying away, gazing at me with her big eyes, meowing loudly. I was sobbing and started walking towards her, when the doorbell rang. Once. Twice. Thrice. Knocking. Panicked screaming. Asking to be let inside. The voice of my boyfriend. Jeon Wonwoo. My boyfriend. Acting without much thinking, I ran up to the door and unlocked it, throwing it open. Wonwoo was panting and he gasped when he saw me. I flung myself into his body, hugging him tightly and crying loudly. He hesitated for a second before wrapping his arms around me and slowly walking me inside the house, closing the door behind us. I was crying, I couldn’t do anything else. Soonyoung killed my best friend because she didn’t like him back. Because she didn’t want to date him. Who kills for a reason like that! I couldn’t hear Byeol meowing anymore, Wonwoo was caressing my head and kissing it softly, muttering words to calm me down. I found my breath again and pulled away, finding comfort in his arms. He was here. He was here to witness it all. He was here to take Byeol and I away from this nightmare.

“He—he did—it.” I stuttered out, body shaking, “Soonyoung. He killed—everyone.”

Wonwoo’s face went blank as he looked towards the kitchen entrance, but the only thing he could see from here was the destroyed Ghostface mask on the floor. His grip seemed to loosen around me as he looked back at me.

“Soonyoung killed Yerim, Wonwoo.” I whispered as I wiped my tears away, “He killed Mina and—”

“He didn’t kill Mina.” Wonwoo’s voice was void of any emotion. I shivered, “He didn’t try to kill Seonghwa either.”

I shook my head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What—what are you saying? He’s the criminal, he—” I winced when Wonwoo’s grip suddenly turned painful on my arms, and I stepped back. His bruise on his jaw was now a dark blue, it looked like it hurt a lot. The cat scratches on his hand were still red.

“You—” I gasped and slapped his hands away, taking a step back, “You killed—Mina and Seonghwa—”

“I failed to kill that bastard, but it’s not too late yet.” I started shaking my head, feeling like my whole world was ending.

“What are you saying, Wonwoo—” Suddenly he was all up in my face, holding my chin roughly as he made me look him in the eyes. His expression scared me. His eyes were almost black and manic as he stared into mine. His lips were curled into an amused sneer and all warmth had disappeared from his aura. This wasn’t Wonwoo. This wasn’t my boyfriend. This was someone else. Someone I didn’t know and was scared off.

“I killed Mina. I tried to kill Seonghwa and now—” His pause made me gulp, his voice was quiet when he continued, “I have to kill you too.”

I whimpered and started shaking my head, gripping his wrist, “No, Wonwoo—Listen to me, you’re not like this, I can—”

“How would you know what I am like when I never allowed you to see the real me?” His words felt like someone dropped a cold ice bucket on me, numbness washed over my whole body. Was it all fake? All this time? Everything between us?

“Did you ever love me?” I found myself whispering, it was the least important thing to know right now, but I had to know.

“I love you more than I have ever loved anyone.” I sniffled, heart breaking and head spinning. Before I could react in any way, Wonwoo’s lips crashed against mine. I was disgusted, I didn’t want to be kissing him. But I couldn’t help myself. I still loved him despite his terrible confession. Despite him saying he wanted to kill me, I still loved him. So I kissed him back with the same fire he was kissing me, our lips crashing against each other’s messily, painfully. Maybe it was our last goodbye, maybe it wasn’t. I didn’t know what this kiss meant, until I felt Wonwoo’s hands around my neck and my eyes flew open. He was squeezing me, not allowing an ounce of air into my lungs. I tried pulling my head back, but he wasn’t letting me. He was still kissing me, but I couldn’t do the same. I clawed at his arms, gripping his wrists and yanking on them but he wasn’t budging. I started seeing black and I felt like throwing up, finally, Wonwoo’s lips left mine and I tried gasping for air but it wasn’t working. I tried talking, but it wasn’t working. I was going to die. In Yerim’s favorite hoodie, by the hands of my once lover. My grip fell from Wonwoo’s wrists and I felt my legs giving out, body limp. I didn’t want to die, I really didn’t. Not like this. I had no power, yet something so strong, as if someone knocked the last gust of wind out of my lungs, gave me the power to raise my knee and kneel Wonwoo in the groins. It might’ve been weak, but Wonwoo yelped loudly and released me, my body falling to the ground. I started coughing and gasping, holding my burning neck as my head hung low. My lungs were on fire and my eyes filled with tears as I filled my lungs desperately with air. Wonwoo was doubled over, groaning and hissing in pain. Perhaps I could escape him. Walk around him and out the door. So I tried, I got up from the ground, legs almost buckling, but I tried. I started walking, catching Wonwoo’s attention as his head whipped up and he reached for me, but I stepped back. He was starting to straighten up, still groaning, realizing I was getting better. I barely had any power, but I was starting to breathe again. He lunged for me and I realized walking in the kitchen was my best escape right now. So, I entered and my eyes fell on an unconscious Soonyoung, making me shudder again. I tried to run, but my legs felt heavy. I went to walk around the counter and grab a knife, but Wonwoo grabbed my shoulder and turned me around. The knife Soonyoung was holding was in his hands now. I shook my head at him and begged him to let me go. We couldn’t figure this out, but he had to let me go. If he loved me, he would’ve done that. But he didn’t want to. The knife was angled at my stomach and I took a deep breath, turning my hand into a fist. I had no power left in me anymore, this was my last shot at life. So, as Wonwoo raised the knife to stab me, I punched his jaw, just where Seonghwa had punched him yesterday, and grabbed the knife with my other hand out of his. He groaned loudly and looked at me with an animalistic look in his eyes. The knife was pointed at him and one move sealed the deal. I guess he didn’t notice I pointed the knife at him as he ran straight into it. We gasped at the same time and stared at each other wide eyed. I didn’t want to do this, but he gave me no other choice. I released the knife and watched as Wonwoo fell to his knees, starting to cry. He was begging me for forgiveness and asking me to love him, but I couldn’t hear him. My ears were ringing.

“Byeol! Byeol!” I was screaming at the top of my lungs, throat scratchy from getting chocked. I heard a faint meow coming from the living room and ran inside, looking for my cat, “Byeol, please come here!”

And she showed up, she crawled out from underneath the sofa and ran up to me, coming into my arms as I picked her up. I shushed her and ran towards the front door, not sparing another glance inside the kitchen as I grabbed my phone from Yerim’s hoodie’s pocket. I stumbled off the stairs on the porch as I started getting light headed, but I managed to dial the police.

“112, what’s your emergency?”

Masterlist

[klausysworld]

hi, can you do a one-shot about the 21st century human yandere klaus mikaelson, where klaus is maybe a college art professor and the reader comes to his class to volunteer to be painted (maybe nude) just to earn extra money , and Klaus immediately becomes obsessed with her and makes her his muse (and gets jealous when someone else wants to paint her). You can court a lot on behalf of Klaus and maybe he will seduce her. (the reader belongs to another faculty)

I don’t want to fuck someone. I want to fuck you.

(Third person)

Klaus had taught quite a few art classes how to capture the naked body. He had both male and female models before and was never too bothered by it.

But he wasn’t expecting someone as radiant as her to be there. Completely naked while sat on her knees, her head tilted back and her arms back always her generous breasts pushed out as her back arched. From his canvas he had a side on view of her as someone stood over her adjusting her hair and checking she was happy with everything. She was knelt on a soft padded material to keep her knees comfortable and whatever the person said to her made her laugh- a melodic laugh- that made her chest rise and fall more heavily, her breasts bouncing slightly much to his enjoyment.

When the person she was talking to beckoned Klaus over he didn’t hesitate in joining them

———————————————————————

(First person)

“This is Professor Mikaelson, most students just call him Klaus, Klaus with is Y/n, as you may have guessed she’s here for the painting class” i smiled at the professor and offered my hand which he quickly took, a kiss to the back of my hand which surprised me but was welcome nonetheless. I noticed his eyes dropping to between my legs, his lips parting and his hand squeezed mine

“So the students should be here any second now, the class will be spread over a few days, if you could just stay as still as possible, we try not to take breaks as we don’t wish to disturb the young artists” the other guy said drawing Klaus’s attention before he looked back down but this time to my tits

“Sure i get it, i mainly do this for the other college across town so i know what to do” the guy gave a tight lip smile and nodded, the two colleges weren’t too fond of eachother.

I looked back to a very lustful professor, i glanced to his pants seeing the prominent tent forming

“You never seen a girl naked?” I asked and his eyes snapped to mine making me laugh

“You know you don’t get to paint what’s between my legs unless you pay for a private session, no need to look, you only get to paint a side view today” i smiled sweetly as his eyes tailed back to my thighs

“And how much is a private session?” He asked lowly

“I dunno I’ve never done on yet” i shrugged and he seemed both pleased and disappointed

“Nobodies painted your pretty pink cunt before?” Okay i wasn’t expecting the forwardness, i felt a small wave of heat rush to my core as i wetted my lips

“No…people also don’t usually stare this long, I’m becoming uncomfortable” I muttered and he looked to my eyes

“Forgive me, you’re just so ethereal it’s difficult not to” he smiled as he touched my face before walking back to his easel. 

The rest of the class quickly filled the room at either side of me, some of them whispering about my body while other silently observed. I was pretty confident in my skin, you have to be in this job. I didn’t care for the stretch marks littering my thighs and hips. People could stare all they like, if anything you have to pay attention to them to be able to paint them right.

I stayed in my position for hours on end. Sometimes people leaned a little closer to see the finer details of my skin before returning to their canvases.

Eventually the day was up and people came in with a robe to cover me as the students left the room. As i tied the fabric around me i felt someone stand behind me. I turned my head to see him towering over me, a blush crawling onto my face as he smirked.

“You know i would be very willing to pay however much you desire for a private session, perhaps you’re in need of better accommodation? I would be happy to provide for you” he murmured leaned down so his lips grazed my ear making me shudder and my eyes struggle to stay open as soft lips pressed to my neck

“You are an utterly delicious muse” he hummed, a wet kiss on my jaw as his hands began wondering my body. It was when he lightly squeezed my breast was i brought back to my senses. My eyes opening wide as i panicked slightly. My breathing increased as i pushed away from him hoping he would leave me be, thankfully he didn’t attempt to grab me back. I spun around and backed away quickly, his face grew somewhat alarmed as he raised his hands in as though to prove he wouldn’t do anything

“Love, I won’t touch if that’s what you want. I shouldn’t have done that…i apologise.” He spoke slow, it felt as though he thought i was stupid and i neared the door a little quicker, dashing down the hall to grab my clothes before leaving

———————————————————————

(Third person)

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Klaus could have punched himself in the face. He was too much. He’s frightened her.

The look on her face was awful, his heart hurt.

He hated the affect she had on him so soon but he craved it at the same time

Now he had fucked it.

The next day he set our early grabbing a bouquet of red roses for his new muse. He also picked out a lovely vase so that she definitely had somewhere to put them.

He checked on his painting so far, the majority of it done, he just needed to finish some of her legs and add the finer details.

He couldn’t help the instant hardening of his dick as he traced his fingers over the image of her naked body, such gorgeous curves. Such beautiful hair. Her nipples had been almost diamond like as they stiffened under the gazes of so many people. He could still remember the way her cunt glistened. The light pink flesh begging to be touched. And the way that red hue spread through her face? Oh how he needed to make her his.

Didn’t she understand? He could give her as much money as she pleased. That was why she was here wasn’t it? Some extra cash for modelling?

Klaus didn’t work there for the money, his family was a very rich family, he worked there because he loved art and he liked seeing other people embracing it aswell, finding the right style for them and perfecting it.

He wasn’t one to want for anything and yet she was special.

She came back into the room shortly after he.

Klaus watched her undress and make her way back to her spot. He decided he would leave her to her silence for the time being, not wanting to scare her off again.

He payed close attention to every mark on her soft skin, applying everything he saw to his final piece. Making sure the pattern of her hair was just right, her lashes curling perfectly and her lips plump.

Klaus had finished before the students and he found himself leaving the room for a moment. He stood in the staff bathroom, trousers at his ankles as he aggressively jerked his thick cock, he had been hard since yesterday and seeing her so bare once again had his hips jumping. His forehead rest against the wall as he grunted and groaned. Oh how he just wanted to bend her over the sink, have sat on the sink, beneath the sink. However she preferred as long as he was inside her.

He imagined her perfect little pussy squeezing him tight, his own hand closing around himself as he moaned a little louder, his hips bucking wildly as he chased his release. Just as he was about to a cum a knock came at the door

“Is someone in here?”

Damn that other professor. Klaus quickly tidied his appearance before leaving without a word to his fellow worker.

He made his way back to class to find only the goddess herself to still be there. She was scanning over the paintings the people had made of her. She was dressed fully, pretty much all of her silky skin was covered as her head tilted to the canvas infront of her.

“Did they do a good job?” He asked, his voice carrying through the almost empty room.

“They are very good compared to others” she nodded.

“The other college you style at isn’t as great as they make out?” He asked slightly smug as he came to stand next to her. His cock was screaming to be let out and it took everything in him not to palm himself.

“Now that’s not fair. Some of them are unbelievably talented, a few of them i believe only chose art for the laughs. Your class is consistent but nothing particularly wows me” she explained and he hummed

“None of them?” He asked just a tiny bit offended

“Nope” she gave him a sweet smile and began to leave

“Love- y/n. I got you something to say sorry, for my behaviour.” He quickly grabbed the flowers and brought them to her hand, glad when she accepted them with a small nod

“Thank you Klaus” she mumbled and he smiled a little

“I hope that you’ll return, even if you aren’t nude” she chuckled at him and his grin widened

“Maybe” she offered and that pleased him enough.

———————————————————————

(First person)

I was sat in a manspreading position, my hands on my thighs. All i wore was a lace underwear set as the man who went by Mark, sat before me, pencil and sketchbook in hand as he drew me. He was telling me of the different art exhibits he had been to recently and to be fair he was quite good.

“Do you mind if a friend of mine comes over? Another artist of course, i think he would be able to capture you well, his painting is better but still a fine sketcher, charcoal too.” He muttered. I lulled over it for a minute before agreeing

“No funny business though yeah?” I question and he nodded quickly

“No yeah, you’re good, i have people about, you want a female to stay in the room? I can get someone in here if you get uneasy” he asked and i shook my head

“It’s fine” i mumbled and he smiled at me slightly before sending his friend a message.

I was not expecting him to walk through the door.

Stupid Klaus turning up.

His face was even more shocked than mine when he saw me

“You two know eachother?” Mark asked confused

“Sort of-“

“I painted her nude” he responded quickly and i blinked at him

“And I wasn’t allowed to see you without a bra? Wow favouritism at its finest” he grumbled

“Shut up this is free, i was doing it for a college class where i was paid” he waved his hand dismissively and Klaus frowned

“You pose in your underwear for free?” He asked looking somewhat concerned

“Nah only for a few people, i just happened to find her stunning, had to get her down on paper and she said she wouldn’t mind” he explained still unbothered. I watched something dark twist in klaus’ eyes

“You bring your own sketch pad or you using one from here?” Mark asked, Klaus pulled out his own and took a seat infront of me.

I stayed there for just over an hour before i slipped my dress back on. I was sat between the two men, flipping through some of Marks other pieces. Klaus’ hand had been gripping my thigh for the past 20 minutes, making sure i was slightly closer to him than i was to Mark.

I then looked through Klaus’ surprised when i found a fair proportion of them were me, some naked, some clothed. It was as though he had pictured me a thousand times over. There was ones of me in a field of flowers and then the next page i was naked among a pile of blankets. I should be afraid or weirded out right? But something about him, i almost wanted him to have a one on one session, see what he would do.

Klaus was quick to shut the book when Mark leaned over to see the naked sketch of me

“My eyes only I’m afraid” he smiled almost sarcastically as his hand squeezed my thigh harsher, my hand moved to rest upon his as a silent request for him to stop and he did, his grip lessoning before his hand turned up to grab onto mine.

“Right. Well i should really get going, thanks for letting me see both of your sketches, I’ll see you around” i smiled as i tried to take my hand away from Klaus’ and leave but he instead stood up with me and decided he was going to walk me out?

“Yeah thanks for letting me draw you, I’ll see you about” mark responded as Klaus nearly picked me up while walking us out

Once outside i was faced with a very pissy man.

“You should not be sat in somebody who you don’t knows house in your underwear.” He whispered harshly, his hands on the tops of my arms as he looked me in the eye

“I’m sorry do i know you? I’m pretty sure you’re just another stupid failed artist who painted me because he has nothing better to do in his life” i yelled back, his eyes grew cold as he scowled at me

“You and i both know i am an excellent artist. I have many thing i could be doing with my days but i chose this because it makes me happy. You’re the one that has to be naked for people to pay you” my eyes narrowed at his, my hands falling together

“You were literally begging to have me, you were walking around your classroom with a bunch of college students while your dick was hard and your perverted mind was picturing me bent over your desk”

“I thought you didn’t do private sessions”

“What?”

“Mark. You were there with just mark. One on one, why?”

I just stared at him like he was delirious

“You’re pathetic, if you want to fuck someone go to a club”

I turned away and began walking but his arm was wrapping around my waist pulling me back to him

“I don’t want to fuck someone. I want to fuck you” his lips hovered my ear and i closed my eyes momentarily taking in his rich scent. I bit my tongue to bring me back from my lustful state

“That’s nice and all but I don’t really do one time fucks with guys like you” I muttered and his hold tightened

“What guys do you fuck then?” He asked lowly

“Nicer ones” i mumbled and he hummed

“Do the nice ones satisfy you?”

“Yes…” i whispered but it was a lie and he knew that.

“They make you all wet hm? Do they even know what they’re doing to your pretty clit? Do they know how to curl their fingers inside your tight cunt? I bet they don’t show you how hot their mouths are on your little pussy. Have you had someones tongue lick your clit love?” I was breathing hard at his words and i could feel my underwear sticking to me.

“I’m- I don’t know- i need to leave” I wasn’t sure what i was saying but i had to go

“Tell me you don’t want me to touch you, I’ll let go just tell me you dont want to see my face between your thighs hm?” As if to drive his point a hand rubbed the skin of my upper thighs, keeping them apart as his fingers brushed my damp panties.

“We’re in public- there’s people” i stated alarmed by his lack of care

“So tell me you don’t want this” he uttered, his fingers moving the cotton material to the side and sliding his fingers through my folds making my mouth fall open

“Klaus-“

“Tell me” he whispered, his fingertips rubbed my clit in agonisingly slow circles

“I can’t” i breathed

“Why not?”

“Cuz- i want this” i moaned, his fingers sped up and i gasped quietly

“Yeah? You want my hand to fuck you? Have you spill all over the floor?” He questioned, his mouth was so close to my neck i could feel his hot breath

“There’s people” I muttered despite the ache between my legs begging me to ignore the by-passers.

“We’re tucked away, they can’t see you” he whispered, his fingers applied more pressure to my clit and arm moved out to hold onto the wall beside me. His front pressed right up against me, his hard on grinding against my ass while he pushed two fingers inside of me. I moaned louder pushing my hips back to meet his making him groan and pump his fingers faster, the pad of his thumb pressed down on my clit rubbing quickly

“Klaus” i huffed looking and seeing people walk by the ally we were in

“Im serious there are people” i whispered but moaned at the last word making him chuckle

“It’s dark here, they won’t be looking” he convinced while forcing another long finger inside, all three curling sensually

“B-but what if-“ his hand moved unbelievably fast having me cutting myself off with a moan

“No more talking love” he muttered, his head lowered to my shoulder, open mouthed kissed were spread up my neck and jaw. I could feel myself tightening around his hand repeatedly. Heat was rushing through me like wildfire as i felt that familiar burning desire to release approaching.

I threw my head back as he found the sweet spot of my neck adding to the already overwhelming pleasure

“Oh klaus” i breathed and he chuckled in response against my throat, his blunt teeth grazing the skin, another long moan leaving my lips. My hips rocked along his fingers as they rubbed at my g-spot.

“You close love?” He asked but his tone shone with amusement as i whined and panted as my high neared

“Please faster” i whispered and hummed

“You want me to move it faster or you want to fuck yourself on my fingers faster?” He questioned, i glanced down to see that his wrist was now unmoving, my hips riding his hand fast with his other hand furiously rubbing at my clit in all directions. I blushed crimson but couldn’t bring myself to slow even if i was flooded in embarrassment.

“Please help” I whimpered

“Of course sweetheart” he murmured, his fingers moving aswell as my hips,the combination had him hitting harder and deeper. My eyes squeezed shut, my back arched like a cat as my legs tensed and i slipped off the edge. Loud moans danced through the air as my orgasm flew through me.

I didn’t register the fact that his hand was over my mouth until i found myself wrapped in his arms, my soaked underwear clinging to me as he hushed me quietly and kissed the side of my head. My legs felt weak as i leant back into him tiredly

“Nobody heard did they?” I mumbled but he only continued to make a ‘shh’ sound swaying me softly

“Klaus? Tell me nobody heard” my eyes opened as i found myself further down the ally so nobody was near

“Oh thank god” I muttered sighing heavily. He laughed lightly and kissed my shoulder

Since that day he’s been showing up regularly. He almost always sent flowers to the college i worked at. He was adamant to have my pose for him at his house, to have me go out on a date with him.

Sometimes he showed up at my college which greatly pissed them off because of the educational rivalry. He brought lunch and would stay for as long as he could before I practically threw him out.

Whenever i had a small side job for modelling he turned up and payed me not to go

“They won’t appreciate your body the way i do” he explained while pulling me away from the art class

“They’re expecting me” i tried but he wasn’t having it

“I’m expecting a date and yet here we are” he muttered with a roll of his eyes.

Eventually i agreed to date. Just one so that i could shut him up but one date turned to two which turned to a dozen and…so on.

He’s still very eager to paint me on full display, apparently it would make the perfect centrepiece for his bedroom. I am yet to let him.

[leuchtstabrebell]

Whumptober Day 3 / Prompt: "Like crying out in empty rooms, with no one there except the moon"

It is a strange thing for a vampire to lose their religion.

His father says that Herbert was a pious child. He would not only go to church every Sunday but was fascinated with various saints and even wanted to become a monk for some time. His favorite was Saint Sebastian, of course. One of the only memories he has of his mother is her face in the candlelight of the church, the candles they had just lit together. Her face is surrounded by a halo, so Herbert has never been completely sure if she really looked like that or if he hasn’t infused the memory with the picture of the Virgin Mary that was painted one on of the windows of the church. He loved the heavenly hymns and he loved to praise the Lord. And even though once he got older, he indulged in all kinds of sins, lust and pride chief among them, he remorsefully repented every week.

Then he died and God died with him and that was that. Or so he had thought.

When they came this time, Herbert thought he was safe. Yes, he might have embarrassed Carl in front of his peers – he really made it too easy to do so, let’s be honest, but Daniel, Carl and Andrew loved to hurt him only when nobody could see. This time, however, Ludwig was with them. And even though he would not call the mortal a friend – he wasn’t so foolish as to call any mortal a friend – he and Ludwig had come to an understanding. And maybe it was just the starvation and loneliness speaking but he did care for the young man to some extent and thought that this feeling might be mutual. He had not forgotten that it had been Ludwig who provided him with a blanket and fresh clothes, who saw him as a person worthy of some form of dignity.

The fact that Ludwig looked deeply uncomfortable should have been the first sign that something was wrong. “On your knees, face to the wall!” Daniel called before they even entered the cell. Apparently, they were capable of learning from their mistakes after all.

“Why should I?” Herbert called back and instead remained sitting on his bed, one leg crossed over the other. “If I were you, I wouldn’t risk entering this cell. Remember what happened to your buddy? What was his name, again? Frank? Fridolin? Doesn’t matter. You can give him all sort of names now. One-Armed Freddy, or something like that.” He grinned.

“Shut up,” Andrew said coldly. “Don’t think that we won’t make you pay.”

Herbert laughed. “Well, for that you’ll have to enter the cell first.”

Carl smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. We’ll be very close to you in no time.”

Herbert gave them his fakest smile, but his eyes flicked around the room in panic, looking for potential dangers.

“And then you’ll wish you’d obeyed,” Daniel said, “But we’ll be nice and give you another chance. Get on your knees now, face the wall, hands behind your head.”

“Fuck you.”

He had not been so openly defiant in weeks, and it felt good, if dangerous. Ludwigs presence assured him that whatever they would do would be nothing compared to what he had been through before.

Daniel sighed deeply at his response. Then he opened the door and in the blink of an eye, Herbert had closed the distance between them and wrapped his hands around the unprotected neck of Daniel, only to recoil in pain when his skin met something burning hot. A fucking rosary. Of course. He struggled to stay upright, both with the pain and the exhaustion that had followed the sudden, strenuous movement. It had more been the sound of blood rushing through veins then any real escape-plan that had lent him the strength to leap if he was being honest.

“God, you just keep trying. You really are a stupid, mindless creature,” Carl said and also entered the cell, along with the other two men. Herbert snarled at them, a frightened animal looking for an exit.

Ludwig closed the door, a strange look on his face. While Herbert was busy watching him, Daniel had stepped closer again, and now suddenly shoved him in the chest. The impact wasn’t strong, but Herbert was weak and unprepared, and stumbled. Another shove, and another, and Herbert fell to the floor, only just keeping his head from hitting the cold stone beneath. He struggled to get back to his feet fast but was held back by a cruel hand on the top of his head, pushing him down on his knees. Herbert didn’t dare to try and get up.

“Good boy,” mocked Carl, to whom the hand belonged. “I see you’ve finally managed to obey our very simple order.”

“And now the next order: Open your mouth,” Daniel said, and pulled out a familiar brass container. Holy water. With dawning horror, Herbert watched as he came closer with the container.

He shook his head, shaking of Carl’s hand while doing so. “No,” he said. “Absolutely not.” He scrambled backwards, or tried to, but the cell wasn’t that big, and there wasn’t anywhere to escape to. He tried to make himself as small as possible, curling into himself, but Andrew, the strongest of the men, grabbed him by the forearms and pulled him open, while Carl leaned his weight on Herberts legs, spreading them out. Ludwig was still standing in the corner and looked as if he wanted to say something. Their eyes met for a brief moment.

Then Ludwig looked away.

Daniel stepped closer and opened the container. He held it in one hand and with the other caressed Herbert’s throat and chin.

“Open your mouth,” he repeated. Herbert tried to twist away but the other two were holding him tight in place.

Daniel cocked his head in thought, then lifted the container to Herbert’s face and poured the holy water onto his face, right in the space between his mouth and nose, so that some of it found it’s way to his nostrils. He gasped out in horror and pain, involuntarily opening his mouth. Daniel immediately used the opportunity to pour some of the water downs his throat as well. For a short, blissful moment, his body hadn’t yet fully registered the pain. Then it came, a giant wave of agony. It felt like the inside of his body was peeling, like boiling water was destroying everything inside. Immediately, his body tried to get the fluid out again. He started heaving, his body shaken by the pain and the effort.

“If you vomit, I’ll make you lick it all up,” Daniel said. Finally, and Herbert barely noticed it through the haze of the all-consuming pain, Ludwig spoke up.

“That’s enough,” he said. “You wanted your revenge; you have it now. Let’s leave.”

Herbert’s body was still rebelling and heaving, his throat and face and mouth and stomach hurting. There was pure acid inside of him, and the men were still holding him down. Finally, he couldn’t keep it together anymore, no matter how hard he tried, and vomited up some of the water. To his horror, he released that it was a reddish-black, and that there were pieces of flesh in it. The sick had also landed partially on Carl, who yelped in disgust.

“Fucking idiot,” he cursed. He got up but Herbert was too weak to use the opportunity and get away.

“What did we tell you?” Carl asked and slapped him hard across his face. Herbert tried to speak but to his horror realized that he wasn’t sure he could use his throat. There was something seriously wrong with it, as if his vocal cords were only partially intact.

“Answer me!” Carl demanded and slapped him again. When that didn’t work, he took one of the crosses he carried with him and held it directly in front of his eyes.

“If you don’t answer me, I’ll put this thing straight through your eye. What did we tell you about throwing up? Hm?”

Shaking, Herbert tried to force his voice to work, feeling as if he was using a razor on the inside of his throat.

“Not… do it.” It came out garbled, wrong. Herbert felt like sobbing but even that hurt too much and oh hell, the holy water was still in him and burning through his stomach.

“So why don’t you be nice and apologize for getting my clothes dirty?”

Herbert shook from the effort. Tears of the water-blood mix were running down his cheeks and Herbert wondered if they would leave deep tracks, down to his flesh. He wasn’t sure he could feel his face. Where it was supposed to be, there was only a void of pain.

He must have lost consciousness for a moment because he was in a slightly different position when he opened his eyes again. Carl was still looking at him expectantly and it took Herbert a minute to remember that he was supposed to apologize.

“Sorry,” he forced out.

“We’re leaving. Now,” Ludwig said from farther away, and maybe Herbert was imagining it, but he thought that he sounded horrified.

The others protested but Ludwig stayed adamant.

“I’ll tell Van Helsing and the Professor what you did,” Ludwig threatened, which finally convincing the others to leave. Although Ludwig had probably prevented worse mistreatment, through the mist of the pain, Herbert felt betrayed by him. The fact that he had allowed them to do this and hadn’t spoken up until it became too ugly for him felt so bitter. It shouldn’t have, probably, but it did. He thought he would be safe as long as Ludwig was there. He was supposed to be safe at least for a little time. Fuck.

They left him lying there, curled together on the floor, his body convulsing and cramping.

Herbert prayed that night. He called out for someone, something, to get him out, to release him from the pain. For the first time in years, he thought about the golden candlelight and the stained windows and his first act of eating another human – communion. He prayed to Saint Sebastian, and he prayed to Saint Andrew, and to Saint Irene, and to anyone who might listen. He prayed to God and the Devil, to the Universe. And when all of that did not work, he cried for his Dad.

He must have been better than the greatest ascetic martyrs. He hadn’t eaten for so long, and he was brought low, and he was dirty and humbled, and he was prostrating on the cold stone floors, and still, nothing.

Finally, Herbert realized with the absolute certainty of a believer that there was no one. Not for him. There was no help coming. There wasn’t even a reckoning to come. God was not dead. He had simply never existed. Intellectually, of course, he had known that for years. But there must have been the tiniest part of himself that had kept believing, that had wanted to believe in something greater, something sublime. It had been, after all, in integral part of his upbringing and had still shaped the way he saw the world around him. No matter. It was extinguished now.

The deep conviction of nothingness took root in his core, and as it did so, Herbert felt the pain receding to an uncomfortable but bearable feeling. Surprised, he slowly and carefully uncurled and moved up to the bed.

With the morning came the dawning realization of three things: First, that he had truly stopped believing in any higher power. Second, that he could suddenly very much bear the presence of Holy Water and Crosses. And third, that these facts changed absolutely everything.

[klugami]

The Magic of Love (and also money. A lot of money.)

Painter!Klug and Singer!Amitie go on a carnival date in this one! Because the last carnival date fic I did did so well guys I’m cheating the system.

“Would you stop hovering over the canvas, Amitie?”

Klug shooed away his friend, who’s head basically obscured his work. The two of them had spent quite some time in the empty performance center. Klug was a young man around 16 years

old, as both parties were, and chose to pursue a life of art.

And Amitie? Amitie was one of his childhood friend’s, who chose to become the city’s Premiere Idol. The dream was one that she pursued to the bitter end, even if it meant no success.

Today was the first time she’s got an audience that wasn’t just her old teacher, after all. Even if right now, that audience member is focused more on the chairs.

Klug held up the canvas to compare it to the seats that sat before them. Satisfied, he put the canvas next to him, and let out a relieved sigh. “Whew.. all that’s left is to let the colors dry for the final time, and then it’s off to the museum.”

“Museum?” Amitie asked, confused. The one museum she’s heard of usually only has art exhibits for old pieces. Like, really old pieces! “Why are you going to the Museum, Klug? Do you work there, too?”

Unbelievable, Klug thought! Wasn’t it obvious? He turned his head away from her, unable to bring himself to see such a thoughtless girl. “Couldn’t you gather it yourself? This portrait of a stage audience radiates classical energy! I suppose that children of future generations would wish to look upon it!”

He got up, and spun around, eager to explain. “Oh, to be a world-renowned artist in my time? Well, you want to be a pop-star or whatever it is that you said, you wouldn’t understand, but I wish to become timeless!”

He explained, enthusiastically. “No, I wouldn’t mind being a nobody artist for now.. but to surpass Death itself via immortality in art form? Oh, Amitie.. Amitie, Amitie, Amitie! For such, I would give up my right arm!”

Amitie watched as Klug sat back down. She didn’t really get any of it. “If, uhm, that makes you happy, then I guess that’s fine!” She assured, cluelessly. “But- like, well—“

Amitie tugged at her hat, unsure of what she wanted to say. “Why— no, when is that painting going to be finished?” She asked, forgetting what she wanted to say. “I bet you wanna go back to the Primp District. After all, gotta go back to your job, ahaha!”

The way Amitie acted was strange, but Klug figured this might just be something from the time they spent apart. “Of course I do!” He told her, returning to his usual hard-to-crack manner. “Then you can continue practicing your little dances, and I can do what I have to do! Let’s go, posthaste!”

“Okie Dokie!”

The two walked out the performance center, only to see a crowd of people walking by— so crowded, they could hardly see in front of them. Many chattered about their jobs, while some discussed the latest in the news.

Including that red-haired drill-haired girl from earlier, who ran into Amitie. “Ack!” The redhead yelped, as she stepped back after the impact. “Ow…ow, ow.. sorry about that! I’m in a rush! I’m looking for the source of this di-SAS-trous voice! You know, sounds something like- AHH LALALA?”

Amitie frowned, the sound annoying her. “Well- I don’t think I’ve heard anything like that. Why? Does it matter to you? Are you a police officer like Raffina?” She asked, her eyes swelling with wonder.

“Ando, Ringo! Reporter, rather!” The redhead introduced, holding up a copy of the latest news. “I thought that the song that was sung would’ve led me to some sort of mysterious entity! ‘I don’t believe it!! The Anti-Siren of the Performance Hall!’ What a title, is it not?”

Pouting, Amitie threw her head down. “Aww! I just missed them, then! That would’ve been so cool to see!” She moaned, on the verge of sniffles. “I guess that wouldn’t have helped my show, though.”

Klug read the paper in front of him, and then held Amitie’s head up to have her read it too. “A circus, huh?” He read out loud. “Ringo, what is this about? You don’t think…”

Rolling the paper back up and putting it in her bag, Ringo pointed to her left. “It’s a big spectacle indeed! A carnival came, and there’s a circus that travels with it!” She affirmed. “It’s something everyone looks forward to, and it leaves in the morning tomorrow! If I were you, I’d go there!”

“A carnival! That would be so fun! Klug, do you wanna go, or do you wanna go back to the train?” Amitie asked him, mustering her puppy eyes— she naturally doesn’t have the money for anything, so she’d have to rely on Klug.

Klug stammered, then sputtered, then resigned to his fate. “Ah- I- erhm- that’s a- well see— sure, sure we can go! If that’s what you really want, and if you twist my arm any further it’ll break!” He spat, grabbing Amitie’s wrist. “Ringo! We thank you kindly for the information.”

As the two ran off, Ringo was left in the dust. “Anytime! … and they’re gone…. Maguro! We gotta go look elsewhere!”

•

While it was advertised as “Seri-nity Circus Comes to Suzuran!!”, it appeared that it came with a carnival. In bright lights read colorful signs, with advertisements. Many rides adorned the place, and you could hardly tell that there was a proper circus in there.

“20 Silver Coins for 20 tickets… 40 silver coins for 50…” Klug read on the paper near the ticket booth. He took a glance at the amusement that surrounds them, then back at Amitie. “How much time are we going to spend here?”

Amitie looked around, and then decided. “I think.. well, I don’t want to hold you up, so let’s just get 50 tickets. A lot of rides are 4, so it’ll be enough for the both of us to get on a few!” She suggested

40 Silver Coins poorer, the two were now free to roam the place… Carnivals actually are a source of nostalgia for Amitie— she went to one with Sig many years ago. Oh, how little they were! How they were given pocket change to go check out all the games, and how she never won the ball toss..

Speaking of which, there are plenty of carnival games— one of which advertised a cute, large plushie of a mascot creature of sorts— some yellow rabbit?

“Oh! Klug, look!” She called, grabbing his arm and pointing. “We should play that— I want to try to win the plushie, isn’t it the cutest thing? I mean, I’m not the best at ring toss!”

Operating the machine was a young man who looked to be having a bit of a nap. After being tapped, he seemed to wake up. “Oh! You’ve caught me in— so, you want to play the ring toss game? That’s a four ticket game!”

As Klug began to hand over the tickets, he made the connection. “Aren’t you the guy who did the work on the— nevermind. Give me the rings.” He cut himself off, as he took the 3 rings, and began to plan out where he was going to throw.

“So, the rules of the game are—“ He stopped to move out of the way as Klug threw one of the rings. “Hey! No— oh, it made it— but! You have to make all three—“ Another ring lands, annoying the game runner. “Would you stop playing for a second so I can explain to you the—“

The third ring lands neatly around a peg.

The gamerunner facepalms in frustration. “You might’ve won this round, young man.. but if you don’t listen, you’ll end up losing an important game! And then you’ll be missing your tickets with nothing to show for it!” He foretold, before signaling for Klug to come closer to the counter, as if to tell a secret.

“And that’s not a good thing to do when you’re courting a lady.” The gamerunner whispered, gesturing towards Amitie, who was trying to reach for the yellow rabbit plush. “Did you bring her with you? You should win some more prizes to make her happy.”

Klug rolled his eyes, and looked at Amitie, as the signal intended. Come here? With her? By technicality, sure, but he wouldn’t go as far to, say, courting. Nevermind that he could easily find himself lost in looking at her, as if she was as captivating as.. Well, still.

He went over to help Amitie with the plush, bringing it down to her delight. “You’re not going to make us play more of these are you?” He asked flatly, not wanting to have no hands to carry with. “Can’t you be normal and come here for what we’ve intended: The circus?”

“Oh! Yes, yes yes yes!” Amitie jumped up and down, holding her plushie tightly. “I want to see how they put on shows in Suzuran! Back when I was younger, well, I guess you remember, but I went to carnivals a lot, but they only rarely had clowns!!”

As she droned on, (“‘Get real!’ I thought!”) The Circus’ big tent came closer and closer, and a sign outside even read “Welcome to the Seri-nity Circus!”

Amitie looked back at Klug, who was following behind her slowly. “It’s 5 silver coins per person!” She told him. “You don’t suppose you have more of them, right? Ahaha…”

Klug wanted to get angry, but couldn’t bother, so he grabbed 10 silver coins and paid when the time came. It was after that, that he got frustrated. “Amitie, if you want to do stuff like this, you should really keep a wallet. I shouldn’t have to pay for you!”

Amitie pressed her fingers together, bashful. “You could say that I’m forgetful!” She giggled, as they went to find a seat as the show was being prepared. It took a while to find the ones that were actually meant for them, but when they did, it had an okay view of the stage.

“Have you been to a circus performance, Klug?” Amitie asked, shortly before the lights cut out.

Klug wanted to answer, but the focus was now on the show— a blue haired girl waved for attention, but when the applause roared through the tent, she meekly held her ears until it dimmed down.

“Attention, please! I— we, we want to thank you all for coming to tonight’s goodbye show!” The blue haired girl announced, smiling. “I am Serilly, but today is about the show.. Ladies and gentlemen..! The first act!”

The sound of rushing water filled the tent, as a splash crashed onto the stage! As the water dissipated, Serilly appeared to have vanished with it! In her place stood a fish— no, a man in a fish costume? No, that’s a fish— a Fish who did fancy tricks, including that of leaping to great heights, aerial flips, and eventually picking up one of the crowd to perform with.

The crowd member seemed very pleased with the fish, as they both did moves that defied logic, to moderate applause! Everyone seemed happy!

“Klug, Klug! It looks like they’re going to— oh! They’re gone!” Amitie reacted, taking hold of Klug’s hand to squeeze in shock and excitement. “What do you think is going to happen next?”

Klug couldn’t keep with Amitie’s excitement, which was impossible to do even on the best of days. He didn’t know what was going to happen next, nor could he make a prediction. The show itself, though, was fun.

“And now..• Serilly called from offstage. “I’d like everyone to meet my latest recruit, if they want to, that is!” While the words sounded sarcastic, her tone felt extremely apologetic, as the next act came on stage, with greetings that sounded calming and elegant.

“Is that Arle?!” Amitie called out, as the actress got atop a round, bouncy ball.

The actress sure sounded like Arle, but one couldn’t see her face. As she rolled atop the ball, she did all sorts of tricks, including that of abandoning the ball, spins, handstands, and more! When she hopped off for good, the ball rolled offstage, as the clown bowed, and waved towards the crowd.

“Please, remain seated as I prepare the rest of the acts!” Serilly requested, as the lights came on.

It was at this time that Klug realized that Amitie was still holding his hand. In his heart, he was screaming at the top of his lungs. But in reality, he scrunched up his face, as if disgusted.

“Do you feel sick?” She frowned, worried. “We can go home if you want to—“

Klug shook his head, as he couldn’t figure out what words to say— how could he?! His mind is invaded with all sorts of terrible thoughts! Terrible, terrible!

Amitie looked at her hand, still grasping onto Klug’s. She decided to let go, not really needing to hold on to it anymore. Quiet! The show begins again.

Serilly is back in center stage, skipping her waves. “Everyone..!” She yelped. “We’re going to have to address a warning..! The audience will get wet, so please turn off your gadgets and doodads!”

After about a few seconds, the audience was doused in water. While everyone was rightfully annoyed, some dared to open their eyes. This glimpse into the sea rewarded them with fascinating, beautiful creatures that could be in the palms of their hands.

As the torrent cleared out, everyone coughed, and sputtered. Klug even got out of his chair to immediately run outdoors, in a panic. “Oh no! No no no! Oh no no no!!” He shrieked, watching his soaked sketchbook lose quality instantly!

Amitie followed, extremely concerned. “Gee, what’s wrong? You seem- oh! Your notebook!” She tried to fan it with her hands, even if the effort was a token one more than anything.

He looked at her with a look of annoyance. “Of course— tch! What a ripoff. The effects were cool, but not at the cost of my art..” He comments as he simply sucked it up and held his notebook out from then on.

“Ooh! Ooh! I know just how to dry it off! We should check out the roller coaster! It goes super high and super fast so it’ll get the wind on your sheets!” Amitie suggested, already practically dragging the poor boy with her.

This time, it was Amitie who paid the 24 tickets for the ride. (must be popular!) The coaster itself looked as though it warped around the whole district! Amitie couldn’t wait— this beats trains, for sure!

“Are you sure this is safe?!” Klug screeched, his fingers anxiously tapping against the guard rail. “My- my- my- my papers! They could fall out! Amitie!”

Amitie helped to hold on to the notebook with one arm, as Klug was too paranoid to focus completely. “I’m pretty sure the death rate of this one is relatively low!” She reassured him, excited for the thing to go off.

In a flash, the thing accelerated. At first, it was dark, with lanterns illuminating the tunnels, before the Steam City was in full view again, but just barely, as they were facing upwards.

Klug was SHAKING in his hat. He could NOT do this?! How was Amitie able to keep calm? This is a terrifying state to be in! He tried to focus on Amitie instead of the fact that he was on his possibly last ride as a mortal, but as the first drop came, he couldn’t focus.

“UKYAAAAH!!!”

Screaming, crying, there was nothing really enjoyable about the roller coaster. Why would there be? They are AWFUL! And they should not EXIST.

As they got off, Klug stumbled about for a bit of time, before Amitie had to catch him before he hit the ground.. “How embarrassing…” He thought, “Having to be saved by a girl who would trip at any other time..”

Amitie could only giggle, unfaltered by insults. “Well, I guess you want to go back now! We’re running out of tickets! At least I’ve won this cute plushie…. Oh, and it’s a shame that your papers were wet—“

“I think it’s about time we head back to Primp— I don’t think I wish to linger here any longer.” Klug requested. To that, both agreed, with minimal silliness. As such, they went to the train station, with what little money they had.

Ringo (the girl with the newspaper.) was there, seemingly conducting an interview. She saw Klug and Amitie walk over, and was (seemingly) interested in what they did. “Oh, you two! So you’re leaving already? How was the C-A-R-N-I-V-A-L? ♪”

Klug prepared to speak, to say that Amitie had an amazing time, that it was subpar for someone of his intellect, but Amitie spoke first. “It was fun, but Klug here didn’t have so much fun! Thank you for telling us, though! It feels like we got closer!” She grinned, to Klug’s embarrassment.

“Oh! I see. I see…” Ringo said inquisitively. “Hm… Maguro! Get this!”

The purple haired boy pushed the camera closer to the pair’s face. It appears that this one is “Maguro.”

“‘Tenderness! The Carnival is grounds for Love?!’ … mm, that doesn’t sound like a good headline, does it? Well, it seems like a good article, however! Can you tell me your favorite rides? Tell me, tell me, T-E-L-L M-E!!”

Klug frowned, upset at the title. He couldn’t express WHY, since Amitie was just… was… just.. whatever! He grabbed her hand and ran past the two reporters, staring downwards the whole time to avoid contact.

•

The train hissed, and the two had gotten onboard. It wasn’t too long ago that they'd been on the train, and it would be a while. A perfect opportunity to speak.

“Actually.” Amitie began, turning back to sit properly instead, her face facing towards Klug. “Why.. why DO you paint stuff like exhaust pipes? I know you said you like the idea of immor-lation or whatever, but— why stuff like that?!”

Klug thought about the answer. In his head, it was simple: he enjoyed the way it looked. He liked painting buildings and skies and clock towers. But, such a childish answer— it isn’t right! A wrong answer to a hypothetical question!

“I..I have a vast appreciation for the life I live, and seek to preserve it for the future…” Hemurmured, thinking of an answer. “Yeah.. that sounds about right! You should’ve guessed that, after all!”

Amitie sighed, and continued looking out the window. “I guess… I just thought there might’ve been something of a— well? I don’t know..” She replied sadly. “I think— I was asking more about.. well— uhm..”

Amitie felt tears well up in her little eyes. “Actually, forget it. It’s- it’s all fine! How about we talk about something else? Like- uhm— if we could— hang out again! I missed you! I missed seeing you.. I missed— I missed—“

Friendship is so difficult to maintain. No, Amitie was difficult to maintain. A girl who is so easily cheered up is the same girl who is so easily heartbroken.

What word could he say? What was the right course of action? His mind and his pride were at war, between what he wanted to do and what he wanted to do— they weren’t the same, at all!

His selfish desires had peaked, as he took Amitie’s hands, the act calling for her eyes to lock onto his. “We.. we can go to the restaurant then! If that’s what you want, then, we can go! But! You’ll have to pay!”

Amitie was going to cry. This did NOT make it any better. Forcing a smile, she shut her eyes to blink away tears. “.. yeah! Yeah, that could be fun! Tomorrow!”

She took her hand back to wipe away the remaining tears, but when she finished, she and Klug stared at each other, their eyes thoughtless and wide.

It felt as if the air between them grew thinner, and the train went silent, and if the world became more beautiful.. and more beautiful.. but then, the train halted, which made them practically jump back.

“Primp Station— everyone off!”

As they got off the train, not a word was said until the split in their paths to head home. Even as she walked home, Amitie didn’t know what to think. What COULD she think?

It’s been so long. Quite so long. Even if they’ve been friends for a short time, Amitie remembered the group quite well.

How they would celebrate holidays, and study together. How every time one of them was messed with, the rest came to support them.

All the birthdays they STILL spent, and how Klug stopped showing up after he announced that he would be beginning “the rest of his life!” as he put it.

And, now?

Now he is doing that— he has money! He’s still hotheaded, and he’s still kind of mean, but.. it was.. kind of.. cute? Ohh! She can’t think that! That’s so weird! That’s her friend!

Amitie can’t even imagine the beginning of it, or even if what she thinks is true! No, that’s a lie. She believes wholeheartedly that, at some point, that Klug became ‘cute’, and that means she must feel something.

But feeling stuff is icky! Especially if it’s someone you’ve known for so long! What if she says that?! What if he knew before? Would he have said everything still? Was she acting differently?!

All those times, all those things she did.. the hands, the giggling, the— oh no! She was acting differently! It’s so obvious! It has to be!

Amitie wanted to cry, but she was too old to be crying. Not again. She can’t be so childish, if she’s going to be like this. She knows she has to confront it, even if it’s difficult.

But all she wants is to go back to normalcy.

[johndeerequeer]

Chapter 11

A Fine Night Indeed

Masterlist

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Warnings: violence/gunfight

Read on Ao3

“Now have a good time, but don’t lose too much money, or Gracie here will have both our heads,” Trelawny proclaimed as they strode into the hall.

“Whatever you say. Come dearie, let’s find you a place to enjoy yourself while I gamble away our money,” Arthur joked. 

She smacked his chest playfully, playing her part effortlessly. She’d always fantasized about performing on the stage.

“Don’t you dare,” she chided.

“Of course I won’t, dear, I intend only to do away with large sums when I'm spoiling you,” he teased. 

She rolled her eyes and leaned into him.

“Mr. Callahan, you will be the death of me,” she replied.

“And you for me, Mrs. Callahan.”

They wandered over to the bar and spotted a seat not far from Trelawny. She loosened herself from his arm, and he took every opportunity to lay his hands on her as he guided her to her seat. Her face flushed deeply as her stomach fluttered. In spite of everything, his touch never failed to send her reeling. It hurt all the more knowing he didn't want her.

“There, the perfect spot for my good-luck charm,” he said, his gaze shamelessly exploring her from head to toe.

She rolled her eyes with a mischievous smile. He flicked his gaze to the bartender.

“I’ll have a whiskey,” Arthur instructed, “and the lady will have one too.”

Her eyes shot to him as he leaned above her. She shot him a glare. The bartender went about pouring their drinks. 

She brought her gaze to the painting, hanging above the bar shelf.

A delicate Rococo oil painting. A young lady, reclined, sleeps in a field. A young man peeks around a tree and tickles her neck with a piece of straw.

She took a deep breath. Tingles of nerves spread through her chest. Arthur leaned in close.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispered, “I’m not gonna let anything happen to ya.”

She swallowed thickly.

“It's not me I’m worried about.”

The bartender slid their whiskeys to them. Arthur took a small swig.

“Things will go as planned,” he mused, “I trust Trelawny.”

She nodded with a sad gaze at her drink.

“Wish me luck, dear,” he offered louder, for the other patrons to hear. 

She turned to him. He paused for a moment standing above her. His eyes roamed her face. His charming façade faltered for a moment. Her heartbeat hammered in her chest. The flicker in his eyes sent goosebumps down her arms.

In one fell swoop, he took her chin in his hand and brought his lips to hers. She swallowed a gasp. Her lips parted and her head tilted as her mouth welcomed his. The bitter tinge of whiskey on his lips grazed her tongue. She brought her hands to his face with tender desperation, like he was her first drink after days in a desert. He pulled away gingerly after what felt like an eternity, but it still wasn’t long enough. Their eyes met and her gaze flicked down to his mouth, which was now liberally coated with the rouge from her lips. She stared at him with her mouth agape.

He grabbed a napkin from behind her, wiped his face, tossed her a wink and continued on his way to the poker table.

“Good evening gentlemen, Arthur Callahan. Sorry I'm late, I had some, uh… unfinished business at the bar,” he joked as he sat, wiping his mouth, making a show of what was keeping him busy. 

Her chest heaved as she watched him settle into the table and exchange his greetings with the other men with brash charm. She observed his every move, and every gesture, drinking in the chance to see him in action. Her gaze roamed him freely. She followed every flick of his wrist, every tilt of his jaw, every fingertip cascading over his cards. The way he let his hand dangle casually in his lap as he shifted in his seat, had her shifting in hers. She followed his occasional glance to Strauss who sat on a chair just beyond the table, making subtle gestures to Arthur about Blythe’s cards. She flicked her attention back to Arthur again.

She reminisced about the feeling of his lips on hers. A heat spread through her, down to her core.  Her eyes landed on his lips as silvery words slipped pasted them followed by a smirk. She frowned. He played his part and he played it well.

She turned back to the bar, downed the whiskey, which didn't go down without a fight, and then she waved for the attention of the bartender.

“What’s the sweetest wine you have?”

The bartender gave her a double take. He went about finding one and brought her some kind of red. She started to down it in large successive gulps. 

“My Gracie, celebrating your husband's win a bit early are we?” Trelawny drawled. 

She tossed him a glance as she continued gulping down the wine. She finished it with a deep sigh of satisfaction.

“Might as well spend the money before he loses it all,” she replied, her cheeks flushing red.

Trelawny chuckled. She waved the bartender down for a refill.

“If you’re looking to spill your dinner over the carpet as a means of distraction, I applaud your creativity, but I would advise against it,” Trelawny whispered.

“You’re the one who told me not to hold back, ringleader,” she replied hushed and indignantly. 

Her vision began to swim.

“That I did,” he conceded, “I’m sure Arthur would be happy for the opportunity to heroically sweep you off your feet when you can’t walk home.”

“I bet he would,” she grumbled into her second glass of wine, “I’d like to see him try.”

She went back to watching him play again, the alcohol fueling her fury. The round ended with Blythe having presumably won. The rest of the players at the table, save Arthur and Blythe, left. Things were going according to plan. She watched with intention now, waiting with anticipation for the outcome of their game. She could faintly hear their conversation.

“I would stick to oil, Mr. Callahan. I don’t think you have a future on the stage,” Blythe teased.

“You sound just like my wife,” Arthur jeered. 

Mads rolled her eyes and took another long swig of her wine. 

They continued on for a bit, exchanging words and shifting their chips. Arthur won, of course, much to Blythe’s outrage. He stood from the table and began to count his chips and casually belittling Blythe, as scripted, to egg him on. Blythe fell easily into the trap, his pride getting the better of him. He made claims about a watch in his safe. Arthur took a seat again and they continued another round. She watched before with intention, but now her patience was wearing thin. She was bored and waiting for this night to end.

“Hard lines, Mr. Blythe,” she heard the dealer say after a short while, “Mr. Callahan wins with an ace-high diamond flush.”

She was startled to attention and swayed with tipsiness. She watched the men wrap up their game as the pit boss approached to escort Arthur to the safe. He followed towards the door.

“Just one moment, I gotta tell the wife the good news,” he said. 

He strode over to her with a smirk on his face.

“Good news, Mrs. Callahan, you’re taking home a champion,” he teased. 

She flashed him a tight smile. 

“Beautifully done, Mr. Callahan,” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

“Let me collect my winnings, and then I'm all yours,” he whispered huskily, as he leaned down and laid a quick kiss on her cheek. 

She did her best not to glare through him when he pulled away.

He strode away with the pit boss, with Javier as their escort. She promptly finished her wine, preparing to play the part of the helpless drunk wife as a part of their exit act. 

She sat quietly, listening to the bustling conversations around her. 

Illusory words passed inebriated lips. The usual artful yet empty conversations she’d been privy to during her employment while attending parties just like this for the company. 

There was a faint bang in the distance. Her stomach twisted. No one seemed to pay it any mind. 

She straightened, craning to hear possible return fire when Blythe himself strode over to Trelawny at the bar.

“Quite a game, was it not, Sir? Your friend seemed to be on a hot streak,” Blythe said to Trelawny as he approached, the sarcasm thick in his voice.

“So it would seem,” Trelawny replied. 

Blythe’s gaze flicked over to her.

“You must be Mrs. Callahan,” he said, “Is your husband always so lucky?”

“Every day he gets to spend with me,” she teased, slurring her words for effect.

“Ah, perhaps you were the reason he did so extraordinarily well,” he replied, “that or perhaps he got more friends at this party helping his chances.”

“I beg your pardon?” Trelawney interjected.

Faintly, in the distance, she heard Arthur call out.

“To the bar, Señor!” he jeered at Javier. 

She sighed with relief. They strode over while cattily chatting back and forth.

“Your friend is a no-good cheat,” Blythe accused with a smack of the bar. 

Trelawny gasped.

“No sir, my friend is not ‘a no-good cheat’, and I beg you to take back the insinuation!” Trelawny replied in outrage. 

Arthur saddled up to the bar and quickly took Mads’ hand to begin their exit. 

“There he is,” Blythe growled. 

Arthur threw a hand up in defence.

“Now, don’t be a sore loser, friend,” he replied, as he patted Trelawny on the shoulder to let him know it was time to leave.

“There’s something I don’t like about the pair of you,” Blythe seethed.

“There's plenty I don’t like about you, but I have the good manners to keep my mouth shut,” Trelawny retorted.

Before anyone uttered another word, nearby doors burst open, drawing their attention.

“There he is! Shoot that man!” a man yelled, barging in only wearing a union suit.

It was as if time slowed as she watched Javier whip around and fire at the other guard on duty. Screams erupted from the crowd. 

Arthur pulled Mads behind him as Javier threw him his rifle and went to retrieve the rifle from the dead guard. He pulled her around the bar and down behind the counter for cover as gunfire erupted. Glass shattered around them as shots hit the shelves and bottles of the bar. She heard Javier curse as he returned fire of his own. 

Guards shouted above the gunfire. People fled quickly.

She gingerly brought her head about the bar to scope the scene. One guard dropped after the other as Arthur took out his targets with deadly accuracy. She longed for her repeater. She longed to help.

“What are we doing? We must move!” Strauss called. 

Arthur turned to her.

“Keep your head down and make your way to the door,” he said as he brought himself to his feet, swung himself over the bar and fired rapidly to provide cover. 

She crawled over to the side of the bar and brought herself to a crouch.

“Come on,” she called to Strauss and Trelawny. 

They quickly followed her along the wall and towards the exit. Strauss started down the hall. She waited by the door.

“We must go now,” he urged, “they will follow.”

“I’m not leaving until they’re with us,” she replied.

“The boys can handle themselves I assure you,” Trelawny told her.

“You two wanna go, then go,” she sniped.

They waited for a moment, listening to the gunfire. 

“Damn it, we gotta go!” she heard Javier call. 

He and Arthur came careening through the doorway. Arthur took her arm and they all went running down the hall. They stumbled down the stairs to the outer deck. Strauss was the first to throw himself into the river.

“I hope you know how to swim, darlin’,” Arthur called and they went sailing toward the edge of the ship. 

The chill of the river hit her first. A glorious relief from the heavy heat of her dress. As she plunged below the surface, the layers of fabric dragged her down. She clawed wildly through the water, struggling to the surface. She finally managed to come up for air with a gasp. 

They made it to shore after a long few minutes. Her lungs burned; her limbs too. Bitter river water crashed into her mouth as she gasped for air. Arthur heaved her out of the water. A bubble of water caught in her throat. She hacked and heaved to clear it.

“You alright?” Arthur asked as he brought a hand to her arm and the other to her back as he firmly patted her. 

All she could manage was a nod as she finally cleared it and went back to evening her breath. The dress clung to her in a vice grip, like an anchor coiled around her, dragging her to the ground. 

“Well, never a dull moment,” Trelawny exclaimed. 

“That’s one way of putting it,” Arthur replied. 

The men began tallying and exchanging their spoils. Arthur split the cash from the safe among them. He handed her cut. The rest of the men started on their way toward the carriage where Trelawny’s friend was waiting.

“You did good, Mrs. Callahan,” he teased. 

She stared back at him without the faintest hint of amusement. She brushed past him and made her way to the street. He retrieved his gun belt from the waiting carriage.

“Mads, where are you going?” he called.

“I’m grabbing some stuff from my place,” she grumbled in response, “Leave Walnut at the tailors. I’ll see you back at camp.”

“Mads, it’s not safe, they’re still looking for you,” he called.

She continued trudging in her soaking-wet dress. He jogged after her and grabbed her arm. She turned and pulled her arm away.

“The jig’s up, Arthur, I'm not your wife anymore,” she mocked. 

He pulled back. She quickly fished the ring off her finger and shoved it into his hand.

“Give this back to Trelawny for me,” she ordered. 

He sighed.

“Let me go with you to your place at least,” he offered.

She turned without a word. He followed quietly behind her as they trudged through the dimly lit streets of Saint Denis.

[bcbdrums]

I'm sorry if this got too long.

I'm copying your entire ask for context:

I'm, conviced that Kim wanted to ask Ron to prom since the beggining but got cold feet due to many reasons: the social expectations, the fear of Ron not reciprocating (he did break up with her in one episode afterall) a possible fear of ruinning their friendship, There's one scene where she is sulking watching couples pass by and then Ron approaches and tells her he knows why she is sad and Kim optimistically says "really?" 1/2

And Ron tells her he thought it was mission Kim's mood inmediately dips down again. It really, really looked like she was expecting him (and getting happy) to ask her out. And from her position her actions are understandable, she was torn out about asking Ron out since the beggining. Not because she didn't want to be with him but because she (just like Ron) also had her own doubts and fears. And once Ron gains the confidence to express her feelings towards her 2/3

Kim immediately accepts, due to the circunstances I'd admit that at first Ron looks like a rebound, but if we pay attention to Kim during the whole movie (and specially during the series) it's made clear she liked him for a long time and was probably waiting the whole movie for him to make the first move. And that's what he did at the end and yet she was still the one who took the iniciative either way, by holding his hand taking him to the prom

My only complain is that I wish Kim had been the one to ask Ron out, but I get that Ron always needed to make the first move either way, Also I don't get the people who criticize Kim during the movie, there are far too many fan stories where she doesn't believe him or where she supposedly treats him "badly", I never understood that because Kim would never. Yes she was infatuated, because of something that was specifically designed to make her act like that 3/?

and yet when Ron came to her with a very crazy story Kim immediately believed him and backed him up. She didn't do anything wrong and her actions according to her situation were undestandable. Sorry if this got too long, There are too many stories that blame Kim or just paint her in a negative light or made her do things she would never do in this specific scenario. This are just thoughts I wanted to share they aren't directed to anyone really. I just wanted to talk about it

You intrigue me, Anon! I'll have to re-watch those scenes to try to get a better read on Kim's reactions. I can't watch it right now unfortunately but the idea that Kim was waiting for Ron to make the move in So the Drama is interesting.

I think you’re right that his saying they should just be friends in Emotion Sickness is plenty reason for Kim not to make the first move.  I personally didn’t like her enigmatic way of dragging Ron off to the prom, but I know they did that to keep Kim’s coolness and control instead of giving her any kind of softness, but that’s another topic. 

I personally don’t see her treating him badly in So the Drama.  Unless people think her spending less time with him is treating him badly, well...  That’s just life?  When a person gets a new significant other, especially when young, they spend all their time with that person.  And Kim is going to ‘girl talk’ about Eric with Monique, not Ron.  So...yeah.

As to the fics you speak of...  I’ve never read any, since I read 99% Drakgo and 1% other KP fics and I’m extremely picky.  I do know that I wouldn’t read a fic where she treats him poorly, that blames her, has her not believe Ron, or the other things you mentioned.  It would likely come across as out of character to me.  But people can write whatever they want...  It’s our choice what we read and don’t read.  Sorry my answer wasn’t longer, I hope this is some of what you wanted to know.

[incaseilosemynotebook]

When I got outside Tony was fast asleep, sitting in a plastic imitation canvas chair, his head resting on the concrete ledge atop the three foot wall of masonry that enclosed the bottom half of the porch. Jeff sat across from him at an L shaped angle, ready to ambush whatever poor soul walked between them, provided that Tony would simply wake up. Jeff stared at his phone, looking up to smile knowingly, as I surveyed the damage that our percussionist had done to himself. I imagined he would look the same if he were drooling, but he wasn’t. Sweat shined on Tonys face and his tangly brown hair covered his glasses and mouth making it impossible to see any expression he might reflexively make during his comatose state.

I asked Jeff why. Tony rarely drinks and in the three months that I’d known them, he never drank this much. I was concerned. Tony and Jeff had another band, a semi screamo group named BUTT LUSH, and they were scheduled to release an album the next day. I asked if his intoxication was celebratory, and Jeff agreed that perhaps it was. But Tony had also gotten into a argument that morning with his leeching room mate over milk he had stolen. Tony was scheduled to leave town soon to work at the seasonal haunted house like he done for the last three years, and when he did that, he did get this drunk, and often. We agreed it must be a mixture of these three stimuli which left Tony vulnerable and carefree using a concrete ledge as a pillow.

My father used to sometimes say that I should work as hard as possible when I am young, because I won’t be able to when I get older. It wasn’t bad advice, but like most sons you meet, it didn’t need to be bad advice for me to hold it against him. The lack of it being the most important advice or the perfect advice bothered me enough. My hand is going numb while I write this. I am leaning on it too long, and I remember my father saying to work hard before I get old. What if the most important work you can imagine is writing things down, but you don’t have anything to write yet when you are still young? What then, dad? What if I was born to write scripture but first I must live and die and be born again, before I can form the holy words that will someday push the wandering soul subtly and almost imperceptibly towards truth? Was the better advice he could have given me about how to lean in your old age without becoming numb?

Considering my entire upbringing, between mom and dad, the thing that makes me the most bitter is how they brainwashed me against being a young father. Did dad not think that fatherhood was a job full of hard work, what exactly makes fatherhood so easy that one is better suited for it in old age? Nothing if you ask me. But I’m barely a father. The mother of my daughter took my child and moved as far south as she could without leaving the state of Ohio. When I filed legal documentation trying to find my daughter, the mother filed a restraining order on me.

She wrote in neat cursive letters a litany of terrible things that I didn’t do, and the most problematic things that I did do she painted in the worst light possible and removed any and all redeeming context. This happened almost four months ago. During this 120 Days Of Purgatory I have pretended that I’m unable to read cursive, and asked my mother to read it for me and tell me what it says.

I wish this had never happened, and I often blame myself, but if it had to happen, it’s almost certainly true that it would have been better if it happened when I was 19. I am now 35, and the only option I have to fix this completely is to find a new woman and make a new daughter and start over. Even if the mother doesn’t poison my child against me, she will, even if my child never finds out the terrible lies her mother told the police about me, she will, even if we were to get back together today and live happily and peacefully ever after, we won’t: I will never get back the 120 Days that she has stolen from me thus far.

What indignities and curses has my daughter endured during this 120 Days? I can never truly know. How could I? It is irredeemably and irrevocably fucked. Six ways to Sunday.

It is Sunday and I was supposed to go to church with my mother but 45 minutes before we were supposed to leave she decided to stay home and watch it on Facebook live instead. I sit on the couch in a towel and nothing else, pretending that I live in a day and age where the toga is an acceptable form of dress, and I smoke cigarettes and drink coffee.

An old friend asked me if I would like to buy some cocaine and I said yes. She drove to Marysville to pick it up, 45 minutes away. I wait for her to call and let me know she’s on her way back. She is an incredibly flaky person. Perhaps the flakiest friend I have. God only knows if she will show up with flaky cocaine and demand payment, or whether she will never talk to me again.

[fallinfl0wers]

hellooo! this is the first time i request something from a blog :D could i request headcanons of diluc, scara, kazuha and xiao when their s/o tells them they're pregnant and possibly how they'd get used to having a kid? tyy! dont forget to take breaks and relax!

Literally baby-sized trouble.

summary: you're pregnant! how does he react to the news and how do the get used to your child? includes: diluc (26 bullet points), scaramouche (24 bullet points), kazuha (17 bullet points) and xiao (35 bullet points) warnings: fem!reader, pregnancy, children, non-explicit/non described giving birth, mostly fluff with a little bit of hurt/comfort and angst. format: headcanons thank you for your request!! this was so fun to write! >< imagining the characters being soft with children is just so cute :") i specially like these four a lot >< when i wrote this i was in a xiao mood if it wasn't obvious that his turned out longer than everyone else's lol, and it's also the first time i write for kazuha so it was shorter than the others, but i think his is the sweetest ><! i hope you enjoy it! ps. the names and meanings- i got them from google, feel free to correct me if there's anything wrong with them ><

Diluc

He's going to stop functioning the moment he hears the news from you.

Literally, he's still as a rock and completely taken by surprise.

He... can't say he'd never wanted children. He's pretty traditional and, since he has this beautiful relationship with you, he assumed it might happen sometime in the future.

But oops guess it will have to happen in the close future, since you're already pregnant.

After staring at you with widened eyes for a while, he speaks up: "...is... is it true?" You hold his hands on yours with a smile on your face, nodding. "Yes, Diluc. We're going to be parents." Hearing your words, he starts to tear up as he hugs you, his touch almost hesitant, as if you were so fragile he could break you if he wasn't careful. "...thank you." He'd whisper between silent tears, hiding his face from your sight.

Very supportive and very protective!

You will have the most comfortable of pregnancies. He will make sure you don't need to move a single muscle to get anything you want.

If the two of you aren't married or engaged yet, he's going to propose to you very soon, keep that in mind ><

He starts reading every book he can find on pregnancies and babies so that he knows what to do to help you when you give birth and how to take care of his child once they're born ><

You have to convince him that yes, you can go and eat in the dining room and you don't need to eat everything in your room or stay in bed all day and yes, you can still do most things and no, he doesn't have to worry so much.

But yeah, in later stages of your pregnancy he gets more overprotective because he doesn't want anything to hurt you or your baby :(

He couldn't be calm enough while you gave birth and had to wait outside of the room, which only made him more nervous </3

But when he finally held your little baby on his arms for the first time, he broke down crying.

You two had a boy! He looked a lot like him, too... with the red hair and eyes... so cute...

He's not sure of what to name him, he'd thought of some names before, but they all disappeared when he saw the little bundle of joy in his arms;;

So you two will have to think about a name again!

In the end, you settle for Felix; name meaning "happy" or "lucky"!

Diluc is a very busy man, but he still does his best to be there for you and his son as much as possible!

He's also not very sure as to how he should interact with him...

But he does know he LOVES playing with him as soon as he starts to understand how to play with his toys.

But... there are not so cute parts about having a kid, after all.

At times, he worries whether or not he'll be able to be there enough for him.

He wonders if he can be a good father, given how awkward he is with his emotions.

What if when Felix grows up he starts hating him for being absent? He wouldn't be able to stand it.

You always reassure him as you both put the baby to sleep on his crib.

All Diluc wants is for his son to have a happy childhood and a loving family, but worries he won't be good enough of a father.

However, when Felix's first word is "'iluc!" as he stretches out his tiny arms towards him, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can do this right.

Scaramouche

He thought you were joking, so he laughed.

When you didn't laugh along with him and was met with your blank face, he understood you were serious.

He never even thought he'd be with anyone in a relationship before you came along, let alone have a child with anyone... So he's obviously very shocked and confused as to how to proceed.

After an awkward moment of staring at each other, he cleared his throat and crossed his arms, looking at you with an equally blank face. "So? What do you want me to do about it?" "H-huh?" "In the sense of- what do you want to do? Keep it or not." You huffed, and when he heard your determinated answer, he sighed and gave your head some soft pats. "Alright, alright, whatever you want, I guess."

Okay listen here- it's not like doesn't care but it isn't like he cares so much either...

This man would do anything for you, really, and that's what happens.

He does anything and everything for you, because he's worried about you and not necessarily about the baby you're carrying.

It's not like he hates children- because you can't hate anything you don't perceive as equal or superior to you and a baby ceirtainly isn't either for him-

It's more like he doesn't know what to do with them because he's never been around children enough to understand them.

He's overall very indifferent towards the child ngl.

Then he sees you cradling your baby -a girl- in your arms and his mind just... goes blank. Huh, so that's what a human looks like right after being born.

Your little daughter looks more like him than she looks like you, sorry. But he can clearly see on her face some factions that will look like yours as she grows up.

But...

"Now what?"

He'll help you look after her however he can, since he doesn't want you to be too tired because he never knows when he'll have to leave for weeks or even months without notice.

He's not entirely cold or indifferent towards her, even if sometimes he might resent her a bit for taking away some of your attention.

But like when you were choosing a name for her, he gave a few suggestions and in the end you choose one of the names he thought of!

Her name is Hikari, name meaning "light"!

Due to the nature of his job, he doesn't want to be seen around either of you at the moment in public. It would only put a target on your backs.

And it takes a long, long while for him to warm up to her.

It disheartens you a little, but when you see him looking down at Hikari's sleeping form on the crib, softly poking her cheek with a strangely child-like curiosity on his eyes, you feel at ease.

And he thinks that he can probably handle this parenting thing better than he ever expected. Maybe it's not that bad, after all.

Ceirtainly, he thinks, as he holds her in his arms one day after she spoke her first word to him, this parenting thing is not really that bad.

(Her first word was "papa!")

Be ready, because once he gets attached to your daughter he won't stop spoiling her!

Kazuha

"Are you sure, love?" "Yes, I'm sure. We're having a child!" A smile painted itself on his face as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. "I hope I can be a good father for them."

So the Kaedehara family is getting a new member, huh!

Not that there's much left to his name, especially now that he's a fugitive... but he's excited nonetheless!

Although he's not one to settle down for long, he will make an effort for both you and the child, since it's not good for someone who's pregnant to wander around.

He's very protective, but not in an overbearing way! He simply wants you to take it easy and relax, he can take care of everything else on his own!

That being said, he's not rich like Diluc or Scaramouche, so he's also going to work harder than ever to get everything you or the baby need in advance so that neither of you have to stress out!

He's the one who takes it better out of everyone here, he's not extremely worried or outright indifferent, he's simply worried enough, excited and happy!

He already knew you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, so the idea of having a child with you didn't scare him or intimidate him in the slightest!

He's still a bit worried, though.

He is a wanted fugitive in his homeland, after all...

He can only do so much and wish for the situation in Inazuma to change soon, so that he can take both you and his child to see the places he loved to spend his time at when he was a child.

But for now, he's happy enough simply holding his child on his arms, sitting next to you in your small shared home.

You have a girl too! She has Kazuha's hair color and your eye color, she's super adorable ><

He wants you to name her, and you both agree on naming her Izumi, meaning fountain or spring!

"Kaedehara Izumi... it has a nice ring to it." He'd say, smiling down at her.

While Kazuha enjoys travelling more than anything in this world, he's reticent to leave you and your daughter alone or even bring you along with him. So he stays around for as long as you need it.

He will talk a lot to her all the time, so don't be surprised when she picks up very complicated, flowery words from a young age!

He wants her to grow up to be free as the wind and be able to do whatever she wants without fear, so he wants to do his best to be a good father for her!

Xiao

You can practically see the panic on his face when you tell him the news.

It's the most scared you've ever seen him be, and you've been there to help him through his karmic debt.

So yeah, he takes it the worst out of everyone.

"I'm not mad." He manages to tell you before disappearing to somewhere else in a panicked haze, he needs to sort out his emotions quickly before he can properly talk to you about it. The last thing he saw before he disappeared was your eyes, glinting with sadness. And that only made him feel worse if that was even possible.

It takes him the whole day to come to terms with his feelings on your pregnancy and finally face you again.

He's really, really afraid of hurting you and your child. Not to mention he fears he might've passed some kind of curse from his karma to either of you through the pregnancy :(

Like he said, he isn't mad. He's just scared.

He... he literally never, never thought he would get to be a father.

Family was a foreign concept to him, as were a lot of other things you've slowly helped him understand throughout your time together, so knowing he can have one of his own now... makes him happy, and scared, at the same ime.

He's worse than Diluc when it comes to protecting you and worrying about you.

He won't let you do anything alone, even if he doesn't want to be near you because he doesn't want the karma to harm you or your child in such a vulnerable moment of your lives.

Okay so that aside-

How do people care for babies?

What is he exactly supposed to do?

And- do half-adepti babies need any sort of special treatment in comparison to human babies?

He has no idea on what to do if it doesn't involve a physical fight with a tangible foe, so he goes asking for advice to everyone he knows that could have knowledge on that field.

Verr Goldet and Ganyu are a great help for him. Xiao listens with attention to everything they have to say and asks everything he doesn't understand.

Ganyu tells him about her own experience growing up as half-human so that he can understand what raising a half-human, half-illuminated beast baby might entail.

He also goes to Zhongli for advice and he gets more of the same advice he's already heard, along with many, many reassurances that sound like everything you already tell him every day.

He's very worried, but as the months go by and your child's birth comes closer, he can't help but feel a little excited about it.

Everyone who knows him is happy to see him openly happy for a change on those small moments when he gets excited about his new family with you.

When your child is born, Xiao doesn't want to hold him. It took too much willpower to stay as close as he was right now, standing next to your bed as you held your baby in your arms.

He was so adorable, so small, so fragile, so pure- Xiao was afraid of touching him and breaking or tainting him--

He was already crying, he'd started crying the moment he saw you holding your son for the first time.

He feels so... strange. He's crying, but this isn't a painful, or sad feeling. He feels... happy, but scared, but...

The feeling starts to make some sense to him when he finally convinces himself that it's okay for him to hold the little boy in his arms, when he stares with awe at his face.

The baby looks a lot like the both of you. Arguably, more like him, since he has the same hair and the same bright eyes, but in his face all he can see is you.

And he cries more.

You both named him Liàng, name meaning brilliant!

Xiao does his best to try and get used to parenting, and it gets hard at times.

But he tries, and that's all that matters. He tries to be a good father, and is always there to protect both you and your son from anything trying to harm you.

Even though he was so scared at first, you know he loves the new family you've formed together.

Especially when you catch him trying to hold a conversation with your son, sitting down on the bed next to him as he toys with a soft teddy bear, the two of them surrounded by pillows.

The soft look and smile he wears while he does so tells you that everything is going to be alright.

The three of you are going to be alright, and Xiao wants to make sure of it.

His son will never have to live what he lived or see what he saw. He will make sure of that, no matter what.

[nervous-tic]

touch to talk

After narrowly escaping the explosion at Liberty Ranch, Spencer seeks out physical therapy. He develops a crush on his physiotherapist, but what does it mean for them as he nears recovery?

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader/ofc

category: fluff, a little hurt/comfort

content warning: descriptions of physiotherapy/acupuncture, power imbalance relationship, brief implications of past drug use, making out, smidge of possessive!spencer at the end (lmk if i missed anything!)

word count: 8.6k

a/n: everyday i am fighting for my life to not just sit and write about spencer. can’t believe a 15 season crime procedural made me do this. but uh i’ve never posted fanfiction on tumblr before??? not exactly proofread, nor do i really write anymore so, sorry for the rusty prose!

masterlist

. . .

The catastrophe that was the explosion at Liberty Ranch left both Emily and Spencer battered and bruised. Their bodies bore the injuries home like unwelcome souvenirs; she, a black eye and a fractured rib, while scrapes and burns decorated his body. Eventually, scars formed, and bruises faded yellow. But Spencer’s most annoying injury was his wrist, a seemingly innocuous ache having taken the brunt of his fall. But still—

“It could’ve been worse,” she told him.

Unable to watch the way she cradled his swollen wrist, Spencer opted to stare out the window overlooking a barren parking lot. It was 6am. Clinics were typically booked weeks in advance, but Derek had told him about his own physiotherapist — one who was flexible with scheduling, reliable, and most importantly, sympathetic to the necessary risks of a job.

Though, in the moment, Spencer questioned Derek’s definition of reliable. He hissed when she gently turned his hand. The pain prompted an unusually candid reaction from him: “But it’s my dominant hand. And I have paperwork.”

Something about his comment amused her. The mortification crept in slow as he registered the inflection of his words. Spencer had whined. It was nasally and childish — and now undoubtedly part of her first impression of him.

He tucked his bottom lip between teeth to suppress a pout.

She snickered. “Are you unfamiliar with a keyboard, Doctor?”

Spencer spotted the first pair of headlights pulling into the vacant lot. “Prefer a pen and paper, s’all,” he grumbled.

She dubiously hummed, “uh huh,” before pushing his sleeve further up his arm. Spencer tensed from the unexpected contact, but the mild discomfort was trumped by a spark of pain in his wrist. With the way the tendons in his hands jumped under his skin, she noticed and offered a mumbled apology.

From her experience, Spencer resembled touch-averse patients. He had, in fact, initially rejected her attempt at a handshake. But what bothered her about Spencer was his determination to silently suffer through the necessary contact. Maybe it was pride or hyperrationality that drove him to cross his own boundaries around social etiquette. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t doing him any good. She needed a way to sow a little trust in him, an approach to reassure him that nothing had to be at expense of his physical comfort.

Despite having never met Spencer before this morning, a detailed and likely biased image of him had been painted for her during Derek’s multiple visits over the years. She just wished Derek would’ve maybe painted a physical description of his colleague because, considering how much she knew about the social shortcomings and extraordinary intelligence, he really buried the lede.

So how does one put a socially awkward yet unassumingly handsome individual at ease?

“I’m sure the FBI could get you a pretty young intern to, y’know,” her eyes flicked to his face, “help with paperwork.”

For the first time since Spencer had hopped onto the examination table, he held her gaze. It was unintentional, spurred by surprise more than anything. He saw her playfulness and reacted with a curt glance away, hoping his skin didn’t feel as warm as he perceived it to be.

Yeah, he could see why Derek liked her so much.

“I don’t appreciate what you’re implying.”

She turned her attention back to his hand, but still asked, “Hm? What am I implying?” Rhetorical or not, Spencer was prepared to deliver a berating when she interrupted him. “Does this hurt?”

Spencer didn’t find himself grimacing in anticipation. In fact, there was a second where he saw her hand, so small, unable to wrap the circumference of his forearm, and he was captured by a sense of wonderment. Then, she dug her small and delicate thumb into a tendon and he yelped.

It took a lot to not yank his hand away.

“Ow! Yeah, that hurts!” Spencer jerked his arm to the side. Not enough to break from her hold, but more so to disrupt her examination in a fit of childish retaliation.

Despite causing Spencer pain, her shoulders shook with a chuckle, and it paused him. Her laugh was untethered. Charming. It wasn’t burdened by the need to appear impartial or stoic. Even her eyes wrinkled with it.

The only certainty Spencer could untangle from the knot in his stomach was that he wasn’t being laughed at.

She gently gripped his fingers, and again, he was moved to draw a comparison between them; how his four fingers alone, from index to pinky, spanned larger than her palm. It stirred something much less innocent than a mere blush, soon exacerbated when she began to smooth her other hand over his forearm, massaging the spot where she had weeded out the pain. Spencer held his breath.

Being physically soothed was an unfamiliar experience for him.

And as much as Spencer tried to remind himself that this was just her job, he latched onto the idea that touch could come this easy. With a little practice, maybe.

The apology from her was more genuine this time, though a smile still teased at the corner of her lips. “M’sorry. Again.”

The examination table was just tall enough for Spencer’s legs to dangle, allowing him the rare opportunity to lazily kick his feet without touching the ground. It was a juvenile delight, likely borne from afternoons alone on park swings. It was also the closest thing he had to fidgeting at the moment.

She gave his hand and forearm one final squeeze, a sensation that was barely there, before she released him and went to search her desk. Spencer hurriedly unrolled his wrinkled sleeve and returned his hand to the safety of his lap, though she was too preoccupied with scribbling onto a pad of paper to see his flustered movement.

The scratching of a pen nib continued as she asked Spencer, “Would you like to see me again?” At his silence, her head perked up to look at him. “For...an appointment,” she clarified. “Because I can refer you to another physiotherapist if you’d like.”

Spencer squinted at her from across the room. His legs were still swinging. “Why would I see someone else?”

“I don’t know. Say, if there’s a more convenient location for you, or...,” she trailed, smirking, “...or if you don’t like me very much. Things like that.”

His eyes fell to his lap, his cheeks warm, and his legs kicking with more force. “Your clinic is on the way to work. And you’re fine.”

“Oh, I’m just fine?”

She had already returned to writing when he his head snapped up.

“I just meant th-that you’re perfectly acceptable as a physical therapist,” he huffed, though stunned by the fact that someone beyond his team was comfortable enough to press his buttons. “And Derek speaks highly of you, so...”

A sheet was torn from the pad before she returned to Spencer.

“Ah, right, Derek,” she sighed a little dreamily. Folding the slip of paper thrice, she lamented in jest, “It’s been so long since I’ve seen him. Tell him to get hurt, will ya?”

Spencer accepted the paper without comment, shoving it into his front pocket.

There was an old irritation festering in him, one that developed over years of watching swathes of people swoon over Derek. But Spencer figured out the root of his annoyance long ago. It wasn’t about the amount of attention directed toward Derek, but rather, how blatantly people signaled their interest in him. There was no shame to openly wanting Derek.

If his cold reaction was obvious, she didn’t say anything. Instead, her eyes lit up. “Oh, which reminds me! Since you work with Derek, I’m assuming you have the same crazy schedule as him. So – and please know that I do this for everyone – I’m open to house calls. Y’know, if the commute’s ever an issue, or if it’s a weird time of day – any reason, really.”

Which was shocking, to say the least. And suspicious. Neither of which was remedied when she included, “Weather permitting, and if I’m free, of course. My number’s on the paper.”

As if that cleared anything up.

“I’ll be fine, thank you. But you haven’t told me what’s wrong with my wrist yet.”

Her mouth fell open, just a little, staring back at him owlishly. She finally slapped a hand over her face and began to giggle. Spencer was at a loss for words, unsure of the social protocol for dealing with a) likely the most unprofessional health practitioner he’d ever encountered, and b) someone very, very cute.

When her hand fell away, Spencer noticed how the friction had rubbed her cheeks red. She gave him a lopsided grin, saying, “God, sorry. Again, for like the third time. It’s just a little early for me.”

And Spencer really couldn’t fault her for that.

. . .

Turns out, it wasn’t just his wrist. The injury somehow extended from his knuckles to the tendons in his forearm, and after idly flexing his hand around while on his way to work, Spencer decided that yeah, everything did in fact hurt.

“If it isn’t my twelfth favourite doctor!” Penelope chirped from Derek’s chair. The rightful owner of that chair was propped against his desk, also beaming.

Heading for his desk, Spencer returned the smile, albeit a bit confused. “Twelfth? There’s only ten incarnations, Garcia.”

“Duh, but I’m not only talking about–”

Derek raised a hand, desperately pleading, “It is eight in the morning, you absolute lunatics. Do not start.”

A coy look was traded between the two, but they respected their friend’s request and put a pin in the exchange.

Taking a sip from his mug, Derek casually asked, “So? How was therapy this morning?”

But it was almost too casual. It was just the right amount of half-hearted interest. Anyone else might’ve missed it had the question not been directed to Spencer.

Dropping his bag onto his desk, Spencer groaned, “Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”

Penelope and Derek shared a look before the latter shrugged with an air of nonchalance. “What’re you talking about, Reid?”

Spencer rolled his eyes, expecting the conversation to be like pulling teeth. And perhaps, if it was only Derek, that might’ve been true, but Penelope was positively vibrating in her seat.

Spencer grimly started, “Derek, she’s we–”

“Pretty!”

Penelope bit down on a finger to stop herself, though the outburst was irreversible, and she didn’t appear all that embarrassed about it.

Spencer expected to feel triumphant about the revelation — about unearthing Derek’s plan so early, but instead, he was just tired. Penelope and Derek were the worst about finding Spencer a significant other. Not that either of them ever overstepped, but they were just persistent. And mischievous.

“Yes, Penelope,” Spencer muttered, collapsing into his seat, “she is pretty. But she’s also weird.” He glared at the smirking matchmaker.

“To be clear, she is who I see for physio,” Derek explained. “But yeah, she’s a little weird and a lot pretty — which I thought might shake up your morning, pretty boy, but I’m not trying to set you up here.” He held up three fingers and sternly said, “Scout’s honor.”

Spencer folded his arms. As far as he could tell, Derek was telling the truth.

“Okay, but house calls, Derek? What’s that about?”

Scandalized, Penelope gasped, turning to jab at Derek’s side. He swatted her away while she parroted, “House calls?!”

“Wh– yes, yes! House calls!” Derek admitted easily. “She does it for everyone who works unusual hours!”

“Oh, so you mean you?” Spencer scoffed.

Derek retorted, now exasperated, “Yeah Reid, and also nurses, truckers, flight attendants – pretty much anyone who doesn’t do nine-to-five! Including you.”

Spencer deflated, knowing there was no winning this. The options were to appear either foolish or ungrateful – neither of which were a good look. But before a reluctant apology could be offered, Penelope sprung out of Derek’s chair. Relief washed over Spencer as he recognized the modicum of professionalism she reserved only for their boss.

“Good morning, sir!”

Today was one of the rare occasions where their unit chief wasn’t the first one in the office. He gruffly and hastily greeted the bullpen before disappearing into his office. The sight of Hotch reminded Spencer about the paper scratching through his pocket and the vague explanation from this morning: “Oh, remember to give Agent Hotchner that doctor’s note. Might help to lighten all that burdensome paperwork.”

Watching as JJ swept Derek and Penelope into a hushed conversation to speculate about their boss’ tardiness, Spencer dug the paper out, spinning around to flatten the note against his desk. In the milliseconds it took Spencer to read it, he thanked his lucky stars he hadn’t blindly delivered the paper to Hotch.

He went to ball up the note and chuck it into the recycling, but a phone number was scribbled at the top of the page, one that didn’t appear to be the clinic’s official number and was accompanied by strokes that spelt out: For HCs – text first please!

Making loose deductions about strangers always felt invasive and reckless to Spencer, but it was different with graphology. Handwriting was tactile, so wholly honest about an individual’s personality and state of mind. And at a glance, he noted the contrast of her wide, sharp letters printed with featherlight pressure – in green ink, no less. It was an intriguing sample, purely in a graphological sense.

This was what Spencer told himself as he slipped the so-called prescription into a drawer of miscellaneous items. This was what he told himself because otherwise, it’d be silly to keep it.

Because it was nonsense and ridiculous and it made him smile for the remainder of the morning.

Right arm: sprained wrist + injury of major knuckles + unusual tension/pain of tendons extending from forearm to hand.

Use of arm should be avoided, including writing, use of firearms, driving, etc. For work, please see that Spencer receives accommodations such as assistive technology (ie speech-to-text), or an assistant/intern – preferably blonde, pretty & efficient.

(& good w/ her hands)

. . .

Derek wasn’t kidding when he mentioned her flexibility with a patient’s hectic work life. No, no house calls were made over the course of the month, but Spencer found himself in the clinic at absurd hours of the morning or late in the evenings.

“Did you know that you’re my favourite patient?” she cooed as he passed her a paper cup. Few people would’ve been so gracious to receive caffeine at 10pm on a Wednesday night, but she seemed to be powered by the stuff. It’s why after the second appointment, Spencer began to order an extra coffee while on his way to physio, carrying the two cups to the clinic in a tray. He discovered she was punctual, but always at the cost of the minutes required to dash around the corner for something that wasn’t instant mix.

Amused, Spencer pressed his lips into thin line before quipping, “Not that it earns me any favours.”

She took a long, deep sip from her cup. Spencer tried to ignore the length of her throat when she gulped.

“Well, you haven’t tried to cash in any favours yet, have you?”

He pursed his lips, feigning annoyance, while in reality, his more honest reaction was the heat beneath his collar. The word yet lingered.

Before Spencer could reply, she placed her coffee down and slid closer to him on a rolling stool. With her hands folded in her lap, she inquired, “Have you been doing the exercises?”

Spencer’s wrist was the first to heal. It was, unexpectedly, his forearm that continued to bother him with its dull ache and propensity for fatigue. On more than one occasion, his grip had fallen limp, leaving a number of items to drop from his hand. Hotch eventually forbode him from writing on whiteboards — which sucked more than Spencer would’ve liked to admit.

“Yes, regularly and exactly as instructed,” Spencer nodded.

“Good boy,” she praised with grin. He rolled his eyes, but peevishly and so conspicuously, he hid a blush.

It was merciful of her to spare him the teasing, choosing instead to officially begin their appointment by asking, “Do you remember what I suggested for today?”

Nervously, Spencer eyed the box sat beside him on the examination table. Anyone might’ve guessed that a rabid animal was inside the box with the way it made him squirm. “Uh, y-yeah.”

She drew his attention back to her with a soft hum of his name. When he glanced up from beneath his lashes, she smiled with enough reassurance for two. “I know some people think it’s hokey, but I’ve done it for years. You’ll be okay with me. And if you hate it— no, if you’re even lukewarm about it, we won’t ever do it again.”

Spencer froze. He couldn’t bring himself to say ‘okay’ because what would he even be saying it to? There was a larger sentiment buried in her nesting of promises. All he knew was that any ‘okay’ he returned would have to be confident. Monumental, even.

So, Spencer did what he always did when he lacked his own words. He rambled.

“Many people still look down on Eastern medical practices today, but it would be remiss of Western medicine to not attempt an understanding of treatments and theories developed before the common era, especially through the recontextualization of what they consider to be pseudoscientific language and concepts. Personally, I think it’s just a matter of translation th-that’s an...,” he paused when he saw the gentle tilt of her head, revealing an attentiveness that was as warm as it was patient.

Spencer’s self-consciousness manifested as a choked laugh. He gave up the string of facts that he’d begun to unravel, and instead, meekly asked, “And if it does?” He cleared his throat before specifying, “Uh, hurts. If it hurts, I mean.”

She fleetingly felt astonished by his ability to leave a thought unfinished, particularly when it seemed to burst from him like a dam breached.

Cracking open the box to reveal its contents, she kindly teased, “Then I’ll let ya poke me back.”

Spencer peered into the box and cringed. He wasn’t afraid of needles, per se. Quite the opposite, in fact. But acupuncture? All the research and encouragement in the world couldn’t prepare him for the idea of multiple needles prodding into his flesh, and then being left there.

He jumped when she stood up to move the box to a cart. She laughed before instructing, “Lay down for me, please?”

Spencer almost leapt again when she accidentally bumped his knee with the side of her hip. Groaning, he managed an incredulous, “why?”

“What, would you rather watch me jab you twelve times?”

“Twelve?!” he squeaked, though he succumbed to her direction and the daydream of a faster recovery. Still, when he twisted his torso to kick his feet up and lie down, it was reminiscent of a beetle on its back, left to writhe and wriggle, completely vulnerable. His eyes focused on the speckled ceiling.

She pushed his sleeve further up, and he prayed she wouldn’t comment on anything she saw. Which she didn’t. Instead, there was the cold sensation of disinfectant on his arm.

Her voice was melodic when she sought his attention, softly crooning, “Hey, Spencer?” He turned his head follow her voice, to which he was rewarded with soft eyes. “What were you saying earlier, about it being a matter of translation?”

Something crumpled in Spencer’s chest. He pushed aside the irrational image of his ribcage collapsing like a cave-in. He watched her return to work, dazed and unable to pinpoint which part of him was giddier and more dumbstruck by her prompt – his brain or his heart. The two organs sped off anyway; his brain, churning out facts by rote, and his heart, desperately trying to leap out of his chest.

Too eager to share (“See, when you compare the Eastern belief of ‘hot’ and ‘cold’ air in the body, its descriptions are almost identical to how our bodies react to acidity! And with meridian lines...”), Spencer was unaware of the first needle breaking skin.

. . .

Twice a week became weekly. Weekly became biweekly. Biweekly became whenever Spencer took a spill while on the job or when he held his mug a little funny. Bodies are fickle little things, after all.

Almost half a year had passed since the case at Liberty Ranch. Spencer’s wrist was on the trajectory of recovery, and for times of inflammation, he knew exactly how to care for himself. He knew what to avoid doing and which exercises were appropriate for each type of pain. He thought less and less about the injury and that in itself was a success. By all accounts, Spencer was ready to bid physical therapy farewell and move on.

And to his dismay, even she thought so.

Spencer was escorting her across the parking lot to her car when she cheerily stated, “Our next appointment should be our last, just for a final round of acupuncture. Unless of course, you’re caught in another explosion.”

Spencer stopped as they reached the driver side door, awkwardly shuffling his feet against the gravel. Had she not been clawing through her bag in search of her keys, she might’ve caught the disappointment crammed into Spencer’s two syllables of, “Really?”

She retrieved the jingling keyring and looked back up at Spencer, giving him an enthusiastic nod. “Of course! You’re almost in tiptop shape.”

And she sounded so proud. Proud enough to have Spencer grinning back and joking, “No thanks to you.”

She splayed a hand over her chest, gawking at him with mock offense. The sternness was weak in her voice as she reprimanded, “Spencer, that’s rude,” but her laughter spilled over. He eventually joined in, the sound of their delight echoing across an empty parking lot at the crest of dawn.

Anyway. That was over a month ago.

A lot could be blamed on serial killers, but no matter how many times Spencer convinced himself serial killers were to blame for this, it simply wasn’t true. This being the constant rescheduling of his final appointment with her. Guilt slowly ate away at him each time he texted her to postpone the inevitable end, largely because her responses were always kind and curious.

It was no surprise that Spencer finally caved after their latest exchange.

This time, his own message spun a loose lie about the team needing to leave ASAP (lie) for Boulder, Colorado (true) to profile a serial arsonist (true), and he suspected they’d be back in a week (lie).

After hitting send, Spencer couldn’t help but scroll through her half of the conversation, reading the text messages like childhood Valentine’s cards from a shoebox under the bed. Messages like:

Where to this time?

Enjoy the weather!

Don’t get into any fist fights :-)

Blegh, tell me less. Wait wait wait! Explain what peacocking is first.

Oooh, let me find the address for this amaaaazing taco place.

None of them were tonally romantic, but they weren’t entirely innocuous either. He wondered if they were toeing the line to something more friendly, perhaps even more permanent. And boy, did she muddle that line further with her latest response.

The team wasn’t actually taking off until the morning, so when his phone pinged with a new message, Spencer hesitated to read it from the warmth of his bed.

The self-restraint lasted all but a minute.

Gosh, it’s like you DON’T enjoy holding my hand while I repeatedly stab you.

It took a second to click. Spencer smothered his face into his pillow, a frustrated groan escaping his mouth. What was he supposed to say to that? He could read twenty-thousand words per minute, but unfortunately, this gift did not extend to writing. It was one of many reasons for why he hated texting.

The sentence went through an inordinate number of rewrites until Spencer hit send, responding, I admittedly do not hate it as much as I initially did.

Her reply was near instant. Holding my hand or being stabbed?

It bothered him, knowing she was probably lounging around her home while conversing with him – all while believing him to be boarding a plane. But adoration was a good cure-all for overthinking, and Spencer became fixated on the idea that this was almost certainly what it felt like to be passing notes with your crush during class.

Spencer typed back, Being stabbed, obviously.

Her response was less hasty this time. The message was composed of the single word and emoticon – Weirdo :-). Granted, it wasn’t a lot to work with, so Spencer began to systematically consider appropriate responses, approaching it as a game of textual and possibly flirtatious chess. It ultimately didn’t matter however, because his phone buzzed again.

Well don’t get into too much trouble and please make it home safe! Lest you deprive me of one final session to stab my favourite patient.

The words came easier to Spencer this time.

Thank you. I’ll see you as soon as I’m back on Virginian soil.

Only, it didn’t occur to Spencer that he hadn’t meant it in the context of rescheduling a medical appointment. He just really wanted to see her.

. . .

And when the jet smoothly touched down after three days away, Spencer wanted to stay true to his word.

Emily offered to drive him on account of his dominant hand being restricted by medical tape. Well, his fingers at least, but it still made carrying his go-bag a challenge.

“So,” Emily drawled, navigating his apartment with ease to drop his duffle onto his desk, “are you gonna contact her?”

Spencer busied himself by cautiously shucking his coat, which his teammate more than happily stood by to observe.

He had to actively unclench his jaw before innocently asking, “Who?”

“Uh, the only person you regularly see who isn’t us,” Emily smugly droned. She walked back over to Spencer, where he was now hanging up his scarf with his back to her. He was forced to look at her when she leaned up against his front door, goading, “The person who’s been taking care of you for six months.”

He did everything in his power to maintain their eye contact despite his cheeks warming.

Emily was prone to teasing Spencer like the rest of the team, but rarely did she revel in his discomfort. Spencer happened to be at his most transparent while happy, and that was when she liked to toy with him. It was genuinely pleasing to see moments where he became bashful about good things, things that he deserved.

Weakly, Spencer retorted with a blink, “Because she’s paid to care for me.” He figured lying was his best bet at this point – because he had in fact already texted her upon his arrival. Still, he relented with a dishonest grumbling. “I don’t know. I’ll reach out in the morning, I guess.”

Emily brushed by him to pat down his coat from where it hung. He watched curiously as she reached into a pocket while scolding, “Spence, I just saw you neck half a pot of coffee on the plane. It might as well be morning for you.”

Perhaps with a little too much force, she slapped his phone against his chest. He fumbled his grip on it with his unhindered hand, barely managing to catch it.

“House call,” was all Emily said.

Spencer groaned. “How do you also know?!”

She chuckled, prepared to explain when three rapid knocks had them both flinching.

At the sight of Spencer’s horrified expression, it dawned on Emily before she even pried open the door.

A familiar voice greeted them with surprise. “Agent Prentiss!”

Emily welcomed her in with a sweeping gesture, subtly eyeing Spencer with something akin to pride. He glared back, but Emily’s attention shifted when the other woman reached for a handshake, one which Emily happily gave.

“Nice to see you again! Everything still going alright?”

Emily shrugged, unconsciously pressing the heel of her palm into her thigh. “Oh, you know. The cold weather doesn’t help, but I still follow the regimen we decided on.”

Ah. So, it was possible that Spencer owed Derek an apology. Maybe Derek did recommend his physiotherapist to anyone who needed it. There was a relief to that, but also an aftertaste of disappointment. Meeting her hadn’t been special after all. In fact, almost his entire team seemed to be acquainted with her already.

Spencer didn’t even know about Emily sustaining a leg injury.

With intrigue, he watched the conversation unfold, squinting at the easy body language and humour shared between the two. It was...cordial, but still professional. The interaction even concluded in a timely manner, Emily being sent off with, “Well, you’ve got my number if it ever acts up.”

“I might take you up on that,” Emily grimaced. She stepped into the hall with a lazy wave. “I won’t take up anymore of Dr. Reid’s precious time with you,” she spoke, though Spencer caught the inkling of mischief in her tone. Any credit Spencer was willing to grant Emily for subtlety was chucked out the window when she had the gall to wink at the two of them before descending the stairs.

He shut the door a little too loudly, his body now thrumming with frenetic energy. It was an odd concoction of respite from Emily’s teasing mixed with nerves from finally seeing her again after a month. He tried to stoke the courage he found on the plane, the one that amounted to him asking for a house call, but to no avail.

She set down a large rectangular bag, oblivious to Spencer’s internal meltdown. Oblivious to how much worse she made it when she spotted his taped hand and reached out to cradle it for examination, letting slip a soft, “oh no...”

Spencer shouldn’t have been surprised when she asked him, “Are you okay?” because it’s not like the question fell beyond the realm of her medical responsibility, but it was difficult to not mistake it for something more personal when she peered at him with wide, concerned eyes.

“I-I’m fine. Just fired my weapon a few times, and uh, it hurt my fingers? That’s never happened before, but...,” Spencer swallowed when she took to unravelling the tape, “...Derek helped me buddy tape them.”

She lightheartedly tutted, “For someone who played college football, he’s surprisingly bad at it,” while balling up the strips of adhesive. Spencer held his breath as she delicately folded and stroked his fingers, occasionally asking him if something hurt.

Finally, she concluded, “Just a little swollen. The soreness should go away in a few days. Nothing serious.”

It wasn’t a proud moment when Spencer almost pouted as she released his hand.

Taking in Spencer’s apartment for the first time, she asked, “Where can we sit?”

“Right, um. Do you want me sitting or l-lying down?”

“Lying down, if possible. But sitting’s also fine.”

Spencer quickly realized how unaccommodating his apartment was to another person. Sure, his home was cozy, but it wasn’t inviting or ideal for company. The only areas where he could really lie down were his bed, his bathtub, and his couch.

Spencer pictured himself horizontal on his bed with her hovering at his side, stroking his arm and holding his hand. That was a slippery slope.

Then he imagined the bathtub and almost combusted.

“The couch,” he croaked. “I’ll uh, drag over a chair.”

“No need,” she chirped. “Mind if I hang my coat up?”

Spencer gave her a small nod, taking advantage of her brief distraction to move the bag of supplies over to the couch.

“Um, a-are you sure you don’t want a chair? Because–”

At the sight of him lugging her things, she rushed over just as he placed it on the coffee table, chastising, “Sit! Rest!”

Spencer was overwhelmingly taken by the way she pried his fingers from the handle of the bag despite it being his uninjured hand; she uncurled his fingers, delicately and one by one.

It was too honest when he bashfully mumbled, “I’m just trying to be helpful.”

It took her head tilting up for Spencer to grasp how close they were standing. His heart picked up as she clasped his one hand between her two. Their proximity didn’t seem to phase her because she scoffed at him in disbelief, giving him a squeeze before sarcastically remarking, “Yeah, because catching criminals for a living isn’t helpful enough.”

In a blink, she released him and spun around to unpack her bag. Spencer was frozen, his hand still poised midair. His lack of movement was apparent however, because she loosely gestured behind her, sternly directing him. “Make yourself comfortable.”

And it was the strangest thing. Their appointment progressed as if they were back at the clinic; Spencer pointed her to the kitchen where she could wash her hands before he hunkered down on his couch. She planted herself on the carpet beside him like it was the most natural thing in the world, beginning to clean his arm as she posed a familiar question: “What will I be learning about today, Dr. Reid?”

He hummed, staring at his ceiling. “Nothing today.”

“Oh?” she responded with a quirked brow. There was the sound of a needle being unpackaged. “Really? Nothing?”

“Mhm, really,” Spencer echoed, though his next thought was stalled by the sensation of the first prick. He would usually be a lungful into an ad hoc lecture by now. Wriggling his nose at the lack of distraction, he stated, “I don’t think we’ve ever had a conversation before.”

Another prick. “You don’t think? You mean you don’t remember?” she teased.

“Okay fine,” he yielded with a stiff chuckle. “We have definitively never had a conversation during a session. It’s always just been me, going off on a– sss...,” he sharply inhaled when a muscle reflexively twitched at a jab. He finished lamely, “...a tangent. It’s always me on a tangent.”

She ran a delicate finger over his skin, seeking out the next spot. “And you don’t think that’s by design?”

“Um, no.” Spencer probed, “But is it?”

“Sorta.” She shrugged, explaining, “Just don’t think I have anything interesting to talk about. Especially when it’s a conversation with a certified genius who already knows everything.”

The last word was punctuated by another prick. Spencer hardly felt it, caught up by the implications of what she had just shared.

He scoffed. “So, what – you think the sole reason to have a conversation is to learn something?”

“Well, broadly speaking, it’s to exchange information, so yeah. But it sounds stupid when you put it like that...”

There was a pang of guilt. Spencer hadn’t intended on making her feel like that. His uninjured hand, resting flat on his chest, began to arrhythmically tap. It was the most movement he was willing to risk.

“Fine. Then tell me about yourself.”

Maybe it was the rasp in his voice that made him seem disingenuous, an embarrassing result of his nerves drying his mouth, because her hands continued to move. Unphased, she let out a dubious, “mhm, okay then.”

“I’m serious,” he frowned. “I think your coffee order’s told me more about you than anything you’ve actually said.”

She returned a snicker at the exaggeration and little else, swiftly tapping the final needle into his skin.

During any other appointment, Spencer might’ve left it alone, but tonight, she was in his home with finite time. So, he pushed a little harder, softly asking, “Please? You know how antsy I get if I’m not distracted.”

And it wasn’t necessarily a lie.

A moment of contemplation passed before he heard a jokingly exasperated huff. Spencer craned his neck to the side, watching as she scooted herself directly in front of him. With Spencer lying on the couch and her seated on the ground, they were at eye level.

She smiled sweetly, offering him a plain, “Hello.”

Spencer returned the greeting with a bashful, goofy grin.

“Y’know...,” she trailed, “you make it sound like I’m the one withholding information about myself, but it’s not like I know that much more about you.”

“You raise a very fair point,” Spencer chuckled. It was – and he knew the hypocrisy of it – entirely purposeful on his part, though their reasons differed; because while she believed herself unable to contribute to a meaningful conversation with a walking encyclopedia, Spencer feared revealing something that would give her reason to dislike him.

“Indeed, I do raise a fair point,” she firmly nodded. “So, why don’t I ask you a question, and then you can ask me a question?”

Spencer gaped, sputtering a laugh. “You can’t just turn this around on me!”

“I absolutely can! And I just did,” she triumphantly smirked.

Spencer reined in his glee, doing his best impression of concern. “Is this a cry for help? Because no one in their right mind would listen to me for thirty-two weeks – and then encourage me to speak more.”

Of course, it was a joke, but there was an edge to Spencer’s tone that resonated oddly with her. When her eyes darted away, he grew worried, an apology without reason already at the tip of his tongue. The only thing that stopped him was the soft blush that coloured her cheeks, and then the hurried way she brushed her hair behind her ears. Spencer had never seen her so...demure before. His lip almost trembled at the sight, unable to remember his next words.

She was on the brink of a nervous giggle when she confessed, “You make everything interesting, Spencer.”

The sentence was simple, but one that was thoughtfully pieced together. It was as heavy for her to say as it was for him to hear.

“I know you wanted to ask the first question, but, uh. May I?”

The non sequitur surprised her, jolting out a shaky, “S-Sure, of course.”

“Could you please take the needles out?”

Her timid expression smoothed into the professional demeanor that Spencer was more accustomed to. When she moved back down to his arm, he released a shaky breath and chanced a look at her.

She bit her lip, entirely focused on his arm as she began to deftly pluck out the intrusions to his skin. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “did they start to bother you? Did something hurt?”

The needles dully clattered in the biohazard bin she’d also brought. Awe passed over his features as he watched her perform all this with steady hands and in under thirty seconds flat. She looked back at him from where she kneeled and mistook his distant and glazed look for discomfort.

Placing a tentative hand on his bicep, she grounded his attention with her fretting. “Are you okay, Spencer? Can I get you some water? Soda? Do you want to sit up?”

Spencer prayed this wasn’t merely professional concern because he shifted onto his side and moved the hand from his chest to her cheek, his heart thrumming at how still she’d become. He stroked the angle of her cheekbone with his thumb and watched her eyes grow round. The grip on his bicep tightened.

Then she removed her hand and dropped her eyes.

He drew back his arm.

As Spencer scanned her downturned face and expression, he thought about how emotions influenced behaviour and how it greatly varied from person to person. But through his work, he learned that displays of guilt were the most consistent across the spectrum of people. He saw it in criminals, victims, witnesses, himself – and now her.

Spencer pushed himself up on the couch, ignoring the careless pressure he applied to his slightly swollen fingers. She started to protest, and whether it was in reaction to his departure or the mistreatment of his injury, he wasn’t sure.

“That was–,” he interrupted her, “um, I overstepped. I’m sorry.” The other end of his couch, the side furthest from her, welcomed his weight. “Let’s just forget it. I’m going to, er– no, I just mean that you’ve been great. I’ve appreciated your help over the past few months.”

If he wasn’t so caught up in his own panic, he would’ve seen her internal conflict bubble over in the form of a palm pressed into the warm leather where he’d just been.

Spencer’s smile was thin and forced. “So yeah, thanks. It’s been a– um, been a pleasure.”

Her lips mimicked his overexerted smile, and she returned his tense glance. Only, the façade felt impossible to maintain for her. Spencer was anxiously backed into the corner of his couch in his own home, and she had done that.

Scrambling onto the couch herself (knees sunk into where it was still warm from him), she managed, “Spencer...,” before he cut her off again.

“Y-You don’t have to say whatever you’re...about to say.”

“Spencer,” she tried again, lifting her hand for him to shake, “I just wanted to say it was also a pleasure.”

It was strikingly reminiscent of their first meeting; how Spencer had rebuffed her handshake, and how she mercilessly teased him for a minute because his presence at the clinic was solely to seek physical therapy for his hand. In jest, she made a show of washing her hands, but he had never expressed his gratitude for how she still asked to touch him before the first examination. And how she continued to ask and check in with him every appointment without fail, up until the point when their days together crept toward the double digits and Spencer had assured her that such diligence was no longer necessary.

Staring at her hand now, Spencer thought it to be bittersweet because a handshake would be the most appropriate way to conclude their stint of a relationship. But he always had a knack for jumping the gun while nervous.

Out of habit, Spencer reached forward with his uninjured hand. Her fingers twitched at the sight of his left hand mirroring her right, clearly incompatible.

Spencer grew flustered by the fact that he’d somehow managed to screw up a simple handshake, but she seized the opportunity. She slipped her fingers into his palm and turned his hand over, her thumb running over the hills and valleys of his knuckles. For the briefest of moments, he thought she might kiss the back of his hand, and his cheeks burned brighter.

“Sorry,” he hurriedly reasoned, “that was...incredibly odd. I’ve just grown used to using my left hand by default.”

“It’s okay,” she giggled. The accumulated awkwardness from the past few minutes was unable to taint her laugh. Spencer was thinking about how he’d miss the joyous sound just as she reassured him, “It’s nice. And warm.”

Her sincerity was devastating. He’d have to miss that as well. What else about her had he grown attached to?

Spencer spent so long with his hand in hers, trying his best to memorize every quality of her personhood, that he forgot to conceal any of his desire. It gave him away so quickly. Arguably more quickly than when he’d cradled her face in his palm minutes ago – an action that was imbued with ambiguity and indecisiveness because of how she felt him tremble. But this stare? She saw it for the simple and unadulterated want that it was – and it undid her hours of careful consideration.

Gingerly, she dropped their hands onto the leather between them, though their fingers remained in contact.

With a level voice, she asserted, “I believe I’m still owed a question.”

It snapped Spencer out of his impossible endeavor to somehow archive her in his mind. She squirmed as he took a considerable amount of time to think on her demand, squinting suspiciously at her. And yet, the corner of his lips twitched at the idea that she wasn’t leaving right away.

“Okay,” he nodded, “shoot.”

Her question was spring loaded, tumbling out immediately.

“Can I kiss you?”

Spencer stared at her, ears warm and mouth ajar. Her stomach knotted.

The accompanying warmth of his hand disappeared from her grasp, but only so he could motion her closer with a curl of his fingers. Softly, he mumbled, “C’mere.”

To which she obeyed with speed and fervor.

Spencer looped his arm around her waist as she clambered toward him, pulling her into his lap. They might as well have been touching for the first time. Months of sly handholding and calming strokes along his arm couldn’t have prepared either of them for how they melted into each other with such immediacy.

Ever the good patient, Spencer left his hurt arm slung along the back of the couch, but he made sure to compensate with his single arm as it wrapped even tighter around her. She gasped not because of how they slotted together, but because he’d snuck his fingertips under her shirt, stroking patterns into her skin.

She took it upon herself to elicit a similar response from Spencer, which she accomplished easily with a hand at the nape of his neck and the other pressed flat against his chest, two fingers slipping into a gap between the buttons. She heard a sharp exhale, followed by a shudder. At her fingertips was skin and bone and muscle, everything alive and pulsing.

Glancing up, she realized Spencer was also watching her fingers disappear into his shirt.

His eyes slowly trailed up, lips parting when he saw the fierce blush creeping up her neck. She chased the wet flicker of his tongue.

Spencer was reluctant to open up at first. He had, after all, taken a brief nap on the jet before consuming an inhuman amount of coffee. But she was convincing – if convincing meant capitalizing on the moment she tugged on his hair to eke out a moan. The paranoia about how he tasted vanished as he felt her lick into his mouth, discovering they were one and the same, both afflicted by the lingering taste of bad coffee.

Despite the months of building tension, the kiss was languid and lazy on account of it being late in the evening, eventually tapering off into wet pecks and playful licks. The impulse to push their activities further crossed their minds, but they were also happy – satiated even, by their embrace alone.

Spencer comfortably slumped further into the couch, nuzzling into the crook of her neck as she remained straddling his lap. When she heard his voice muffled against her skin, she giggled. “What was that?”

“I said,” he enunciated with a kiss to her jaw before leaning back, “as much as I’m enjoying this, I can’t help but also feel like I’m receiving mixed signals.”

While there was no judgement in Spencer’s voice, she still winced at the fresh memory of Spencer dropping his hand from her cheek. There was no roundabout way to lie about her terribly lame and responsible reasoning.

“Have you ever crossed a line with a– oh, I don’t know. A witness before? Or victim, or something? While uh, on the job?”

Perplexed, Spencer squeaked out a guilty, “what?” before getting a handle on his pitch. Overly cool, he asked, “Are we still asking each other questions?”

That was a line of questioning to revisit later, she decided. But his glaringly obvious answer did wonders for her own nerves.

She smiled, embarrassed, but also the tiniest bit smug as she droned, “Okay, well I have never crossed that line before – unlike some people.” Spencer disrupted her with a roll of his eyes and a hard squeeze to her thigh that had them both laughing. “And...,” she chided, wrenching his hand away with a disapproving glare, but he took no offense as she guided his palm back to her waist. “...I wasn’t going to either.”

Spencer quirked a brow.

She sighed, trying to draw out her foolish little plan for him.

“I was going to come over and do my job, before maybe – and I seriously mean maybe – putting out some feelers for whether you...liked me or not.” Spencer broke into another grin, one that was so shamelessly self-gratifying that it moved her to blanket his mouth with her hand. In protest, he sharply exhaled through his nose, but it was all for show. If anything, Spencer appeared downright content to just exist in her hands – and it was an idea that made her shiver.

Her voice was scratchy as she pressed on.

“Then, I was going to be a responsible little worker. Y’know – trot on home, email the invoice to your insurance, and then mope in bed about a certain federal agent.” Spencer chuckled into her palm. “After, and only after an appropriate amount of time when you could no longer be considered a patient of mine, I might’ve called you. For dinner, or something.”

At the conclusion, she removed her hand to discover a small, endearing smile.

“I get it now,” Spencer said, peering up at her. For a moment, he reconsidered his next words because her eyes were so thoughtful, so curious. But seldom did anyone find him charming or funny, and he was excited to map out this newfound confidence with her.

And so, Spencer chose to smirk. “I get why you never spoke during our appointments, because my god, you don’t–” She gasped his name, barely holding her faux outrage together as she loosely grappled his collar. “– you don’t stop! I knew you were mouthy, but you almost overthink as much as I do!”

She shook him by the shirt, threatening, “Take it back!” as he continued to cackle.

Maybe it was the fact that she wasn’t actually angry, or maybe it was his arm that hugged her closer, but the two eventually folded together in a fit of a laughter.

As they caught their breaths, she snuggled into his chest, and Spencer held her tight, her head tucked under his chin. Turning to press his cheek into her hair, he indulged in the scent of sweet florals in her hair, slightly baffled by how instinctive physical affection could be. Had he always been capable of this?

“I’m glad you didn’t follow through with your plan,” he sighed. “Because if you didn’t call...I don’t know if I could’ve.”

She chuckled into his chest. “Well, there was also a Plan B.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” she playfully hummed, “especially since I do physio for, hm, basically your whole team.”

She turned her head upward just as Spencer scrunched his neck back to peer down at her.

“Could you quantify ‘basically your whole team’ for me?” he prodded.

A tempting smile slowly unfurled as she popped the ‘p’ in her curt, “Nope!” There was a glint in her eye. “Why? Is it not enough to know I’ve done house calls for Derek?” she teased. And while Spencer was decidedly not bothered, the way she bit her lip as her eyes wandered to his own mouth ignited him.

Spencer was hypnotized by her, nearly missing the quiet taunt. “Or would you say showing up at Agent Hotchner’s door is worse?” The mention of his boss easily captured his attention – with his jaw going limp at her salacious tone.

From the childish wiggle of her brows, Spencer knew it wasn’t to be taken seriously. Still, he relished in the flare of jealousy she had sparked. Considering his lack of dating life, this jealousy was new, and the prospect of this seemed to equally thrill her.

Which is why he softly pinched her chin between the fingers of the hand that had been out of commission for the better part of six months. She noticed, and with a knitted brow, began to warn him, but he didn’t give her the chance. She was docile at his utterance of, “Shut up,” feeling the words evaporate in her mouth.

Her chin was tugged forward, and between each whisper of, “mouthy, so mouthy,” Spencer nipped her lips plump and kissed them both quiet.

[lolita-lollipop]

Royal siren erasermic family? They like adopt you after you hatch from an egg bc they found you or something idk and take you back to the castle and make you their little princess or something cute and fluffy like that.

YANDERE SIREN ERASERMIC FAMILY X BABY PRINCESS READER

Shinso was just out and about, swimming through some forbidden areas he wasn’t supposed to be in, avoiding sharks, when he found an iridescent little ball under some rubble of a shipwreck, it made his gills tingle at the sweet aura that it emmited, he knew, that this creature, was something to protect. It was up until he saw something moving inside that he thought it was just some ancient treasure that would’ve died with this ship, he examined it closer, squinting his eyes, that’s when he realized, it was a Siren. A baby one at that, usually they hatched out of boring white eggs, the royal family’s were gold, but a shiny color changing white that combated the finest of jewels? Never, this little pip was special, he could feel it.

So he brought it back home, through his “balcony window”, debating wether or not he should tell his parents. As you know, he was somewhere where he was not supposed to be, and they would throw a fit. Then again, whatever this thing was, he couldn’t just keep it to himself, something was living inside it, and he wouldn’t know if something was wrong, so he has too. When he did, it came as a suprise that his parents weren’t mad, they jsut kindof stared at the orb, inhaling the addictive scent it gave off, the three huddled around it, aizawa carefully picking the Small thing up, it was only about the size of a pumpkin, extremely easy to pick up, yet he could still feel the heartbeat of a creature inside, it just had to be one of the sirenfolk , there isn’t any other explanation. He stared at it in confusion, noticing the small cracks staring to form.

Then a little hand popped through, and scared the shit out of all of them.

———

As it turned out, you were in fact a siren, a rare subtype of them, thought to have gone extinct long, long ago. The opal-looking scales that littered your arms and tail showed proof of it, this species were intensely more fragile, and weaker, that’s why they went extinct, as they couldn’t hear, and a small crabs pinch could cause major bone breaks, they were just too weak, yet so beautiful. That’s why they were coveted among the royal family. It only helped their growing obsession taht you were so cute.

It might’ve been an act of I’mpulse, but they just needed to have you as their own, of course, their word is law, so they could’ve just kept you, but they felt the need to make it official, they’d already had two pips, you’re just their third! It was simple, of course, you specific species could be born into sirenfolk families, it was just so rare that it had only happened once. You were just so cute, so fragile, just something so breakable, they just

H a d

To protect this tiny lil thing, it was instinctual to feel a protective pull over their little pups, and boy were they feeling that right now, you were special, not just any baby, but you were theirs. Their special little pup, nothing would ever lay a hand on you, ever. It had only be a few days, and word spreads through the underwater kingdom like a wave, from the servant maid who showed them how to take care of you, to the head maid, to a citizen, to the fisher, and eventually, by the end of the week, the whole kingdom was eagerly waiting to get a glimpse of their new princess.

And boy were they shocked to find out it was an opalite, the most rare of rare sirens in the world. Immediately after they had shown you to the world, sitting in a large clam as it was pulled by sharks, the citizens fell in love with you, maybe it was the fact that you were related to their beloved royals, maybe because the royal family would intensely glare at anyone who made negative comments, maybe it was the fact that a few of those people went missing, but who knows right?

You still hadn’t been able to open your eyes yet, and you won’t be able to hear them for a very long time, your hands were about the size of aizawas eye, and you looked closer to a fish than a human, as you hadn’t even developed your face yet, another plus to being the endangered species, note the sarcasm. And guess what? They found it so adorable, just their cute little baby, their little pup who can’t even protect themselves from the water around them. They just loved every part of your little body, from your tails, to your tiny little hands, to your shiny gills. It was all just so perfect- you were so perfect, and you were theirs, they were gonna protect you at all costs.

So of course they did, you were just so tiny right now, they knows practically anything could hurt you, so they opted to be around you all the time, only leaving to hunt for humans that would suffice for their tastes, drawling them in, determined because of that little smile of yours. You motivated them to do it, they were doing this for you. It have them all a sense of pride to have you feel safe with them, to rite them you. On their own terms.

Eri was constantly around you, being that she was a young one just like you, and you were her little sister! So she wanted to always be around while you made those echoing gurgling noises, or flapped your hands around in the water, she didn’t have responsibility in the kingdom yet, unless being cute is a job, so she can be with you jsut as much as she wants. Always sitting with you while you played with the floating pearls that they had arranged over your play area, watching you feel new things, holding you while you dozed off with adorable little bubbles, she always was with you.

Like now, she’s been with you all day, giving you little snacks, glaring at the guards at the door who always had their eyes on you… creeps. The sun was almost setting, and when you’re low down in the ocean it goes pitch black after a little while, and that’s when the jellyfish come out, tonight was one of the most special days out of the year in the northern oceans, the jellyfish festival, the one night a year when the rare white jellyfish would come out to say hi, leaving trails of shimmering sparkle behind them, painting the upper levels of the ocean a shiny silver. It just so happened that it occurred on your first birthday, a very small increment to sirens, as they live almost a billion years, but still a big accomplishment in their eyes. Look! Their little baby girl is turning one! How amazing!

“Do you see them hon? Look, they’re just starting to appear” Aizawa asked both you and eri calmly, swishing his hand through the salty water to pint at the new appearance of white and purple blobs, slowly flouncing their way overhead. Eri smiled up at it, her pointed teeth displayed in full view, her eyes shined at the view, not only of the huge jellyfish, but also at you, who was placed delicately in mics lap, sat up against his chest. Little bubbles escaped your mouth as you blew raspberries into the water, just making the family laugh.

“Mm-hmmm! Look! Look! How pretty! I wanna touch em! Can I touch em!” She yelled at her parents, excitedly pointing towards the jelly’s floating towards the surface, her hair floated behind her as she swished around, shinsho just chuckled, knowing that she eventually would try to touch them, and get zapped, again, like last year, and the year before, and the year before.

“No hon. Don’t do that to us again, you wanna wish your sister a happy birthday? She’s probably really exited!” Mic cheered, distracting his daughter from touching the jellyfish, yet again, meanwhile, you were happily bouncing up and down on his lap, enjoying the freedom of your arms, swishing them all over the place, grabbing the beads around your neck, jsut anything.

“But dad! Why not! It’s not like it’s hurt me or anything I’ll be fi-“ she begged, throwing her hands up in a small tempter tantrum, clearly forgetting her previous events of pain, and idiocy.

“No- nope no no, we aren’t doing this again, please honey, just please, remember last time, we had to clean up your wounds OUTSIDE-of water, you hate going to the surface remember? “

“Yeah but-“ she started speaking, but was soon cut off with a loud giggle, resonating through your lips, kindof rare for you, you hadn’t been very vocal outside of a few gurgles here and there, so it had each and every ones heads turning. That’s when they saw it, your beautiful eyes, shin sing in reflection to the jellyfish. Those beautiful little eyes of yours mesmerized all of them, a pitch black (for protection from the salt), with a shiny silver-like pupal, immediately after they opened, a burst of color filled your vision. You giggled and clapped your hands together with a small toothless smile, watching as the floaty creates went overhead, glittering with the light.

The absolutely gorgeous splash above was admired by the family form their own viewing post, the blues and whites combined to make a heavenly display. You could feel the cool sprinkles of light they emmited hitting your skin, smiling at the feeling, you splayed your hands out and flailed them against the water.

“Ohhhhhh- oh wow. Honey! Honey look! Her eyes opened! Look at taht! Aren’t you just so magical! Look at you, my little pup.” Mic smacked Aizawa over the chest multiple times, pointing at your clearly opened eyes, you just remained oblivious, staring up at all the new things around you, like.. everything! He turned you around to face him, letting you actually see his face for the first time, taking in the long yellow hair, the (also) black eyes, the ethereal face dotted with shiny yellow gills, him, you could see him!

“She’s developing smoothly, I’m glad. Awww, that’s pretty cute.” Aizawa replied to him, holding in his emotions, as soon as he met those new eyes of yours it’s like everything else disappeared, like the world itself didn’t exist, outside of him, and his fmaily. You took his breath away, or what you could call breath, so cute and innocent, such a small thing, that brings so much joy. Your little tail swished back and forth as you stared up at them happily, taking in the features of the people you’d learned to recognize by touch. Blowing raspberries out of your lips with a stream of bubbles.

“Awwwww! I’m gonna cry, she’s growing so fast! Soon she’ll be swimming in her own! In like 200 years! Too soon, way too soon. Comers baby- mm hmmm” mic spoke, knowing full well that even if he did cry, his tears would get sucked in by the ocean. He pulled you close, moving your head I’ve this shoulde is it would rest in the crook of his neck while he hugged you, eventually, the others joined in, eri practically flopping ontop (with careful regard for you of course).

They all stared at you, while you stared up at the “sky”, oblivious to their stares, to the ways they would growl at anyone who came close, to how they kept you from seeing anyone other than what they personally approve. After all, you are jsut their little pup, of course you wouldn’t notice! Their little pup… feels right to say that, it isn’t like you have any family waiting, they aren’t ever gonna come here.

And if they ever did?

Then, well, a few mermaids are going missing

———————————————————————————————————

Thanks for requesting, this was fun to write!

Have a great day today! Goodbye.

[starshipsofstarlord]

There was a Girl...

Pairing | Jace Wayland x reader

Summary | When Clary becomes a shadowhunter, she notices how cold and ruthless Jace is. Every one seems to relate to his pain, not resonating at quite the same level. They’re all mourning nevertheless.

Warnings | Mentions of death, brief smut (handjob), angst, heartbreak, unrequited feelings (for Clary)

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Opening your eyes, you awoke to Jace's chest, his blonde hair falling over his face. You preferred how it looked when it was a little bit scruffy instead of slicked back, and you reached for one of the hanging strands. They were like seams of gold, reflecting from the light that hid within him.

Most people had the wrong perspective on the young man, they only saw a well skilled shadow hunter. But they ignored the smart and witty, yet simultaneously charming person that he was underneath all of his runes. His parabatai Alec was familiar with the set of abilities that his brother figure had, and all that he would accomplish. People thought, because of Jace’s distorted, and confusing past, that he was just another warrior to serve whatever institute that he was sent to.

But in fact, he was not. His duty would always be, to put his family and friends first. He liked to put you on the top of the list, but you always felt the need to scrap that idea, claiming that you could not be his priority from start to finish. It was as though you knew what you future held for you, and how indeed, he could not manage to protect every person that he cared about. The prospect was a great responsibility, far too much for one shadow hunter, even if they be among the best of their kind.

To put such a weight on your own shoulders was defiantly cruel, it would always end in failure, no matter what was done to prevent said downfall. There was never a possibility of saving everyone, that was insanity. The monsters had to kill, in order for you all to remain outside of Idris, and continue on with your heaven sent duty.

“Jace?” You could tell he was awake from how he smiled at the sound of your voice. “Come on.” It was an attempt to encourage him, but you were quick to realise that it wasn’t working. He didn’t like mornings all that much, for good reason too, after all you were shadowhunters.

“Jace.” Your voice became louder and clearer, up to the point where it no longer sounded like your own. He looked away from the screen, to see the new girl watching him. She had an expectant glaze to her green eyes, which were much different from the shield that was covering his own. His pools were surrounded by a shadow of grief, pulling down the entirety of his face to the point where it looked as though he no longer wanted to live.

And that wasn’t entirely incorrect, he struggled at life, often never finding a moment of happiness, and if he did, then he would paint a smile upon his face and wear it to satisfy everyone else around. He had tried to cope with the loss that burdened his heart so gravely, yet nothing made it feel okay. You’d want him to move on, whether it be to lose his vengeful esteem concerning your passing, or find someone else to confide in late at night, to stay up with talking as his head rested upon the pillow, that he needed to wash, so it didn’t smell like you.

Or even, if not to share a bed with this new person, your overall plan as you sat with the angels above would be to find some kind of peace. But that appeared to be the last thing that he wanted as he digitally scoured the city of New York for monsters to uncover, and kill. If he couldn’t protect you, the love of his life, then he would settle for doing so with humans, after all, that had been the way that you had gone. The job had been your passion, yet simultaneously your downfall, and he’d be fine if one of these days he failed to tackle a beast, and it got to him first.

“Clary.” He greeted her, wanting to remove a dangerous monster from the streets by decapitating it. In memory, he would use your favourite blade, spilling blood upon its glowing stake to keep your legacy continuing, although, it did not do much but serve to release Jace’s frustrations. It was a day in which he wanted to speak to nobody, have nobody following him, nor asking him mundane questions about what it meant to be a shadowhunter. Hell, he didn’t even know! To him, the lifestyle was nothing more than accommodated anguish, though, he had been told not to promote it using those words, otherwise, there wouldn’t exactly be many people lining up to join the adverse fight.

And one of the people that he had in mind concerning excitement over a dire and ‘exciting’ lifestyle was Clary. She was naive, and whilst she didn’t know everything, today wasn’t particularly the day in which he wished to explain it to her. It, being predominantly anything. Whilst he had managed to be nice to her during the first few days, it was out of courtesy, considering Alec had an instant distaste towards the wide eyed redhead; he wasn’t sure why, but he supposed that Clary could see a detail of himself that was hidden from the others.

However, even through Jace’s welcoming exterior, was in pain. The feeling tormented him, denying him a break from the patronising pressure, leaving him to hold blame to nobody but himself. The hurt was cemented into his eyes, reflecting as he watched all other tragedies with a stone cold expressions, them hardly affecting him, because he had and was experiencing the worst routine of torture that was possible to him. He had watched you die, and nothing could take those horrific memories from him, no matter how much he wanted them gone.

That was the last time that he saw you. When you passed in his arms, a large wound in your abdomen pouring out with blood, drowning his desperate hands as he tried his utmost to put pressure on the life threatening injury. He wanted to save you but he didn’t know how, his training had always claimed that killing the monsters was more important than saving the life of a shadowhunter from an unknown bloodline. There had been nothing to prepare him for that day in the field, he was a fighter, and taught to be so, not a healer; he wasn’t a medic, he was just a warrior. “What do you want?” Blatantly fell from his round lips as he cast an eye towards the newbie, unimpressed by her timing, or her presence at all.

Clearly, she hadn’t received the memo to leave him be, especially today out of all the rest. Alec, having the personalised intel as to why Jace was emitting a solitary rut understood why he wished to be alone, and respected the space, granting him as much time to himself as he wanted. And whilst Alec was your friend also, he could feel the deep longing that was stabbing his parabatai in the chest, and it killed him too. Your death had been so unexpected, and now without you, there was a void within the institute. And the archer felt as though Clary was trying to fill it, and he saw that as nothing more than disrespect, though she was probably ignorant to the history that wandered the halls.

Her face revelled back at his tone, but nevertheless she continued on with her prying. “I was wondering if I could join you on the hunt, I’m getting better, Izzy even said so.” Jace refrained from rolling his eyes, and contained the feeling that was trying to burst out of his chest. It was anger, directed at everyone that was still alive, including himself. There was no fairness in it, to say that he was sad was an understatement, he was eternally devastated, the death of you had broken him, crumbled him into a figure that he no longer recognised.

“No, you can’t Clary.” He dismissed her, walking away, and going to grab his seraph so that he could hunt this sucker down, and bring upon the same kind of pain to its family as its kind had down to him. God, did you look badass as you swung it, and the thought alone had tears resonating in his unmatched eyes, thinking of how it was the last relic that remained of you.

Walking casually into the armoury, Jace had his hands prized in the depths of his pockets, as his expert and quick fleeting eyes focalised on you, and the weapon within your hold. Your body leant in harmony with the blade, the sound of it woosh-img in the air satisfying to all that could hear; that being only you and the Wayland boy.

“Can i not train in peace?” You groaned, lowering the blade whence you realised that you were being watched. The eyes trailed up your side where your shirt had ridden up, raking over the rune that you had drew upon your skin only this morning. A light laugh fell from Jace’s lips as he stalked forward, taking your seraph out of your hand, and going to lob it upon the ground, but the stern look in your eyes stopped him. Instead, against his nature, he placed it down as though it were made of glass, and rose to stand before you once more.

“Not when you look that good.” The blonde retorted with a sly smirk, sliding his hands up the sides of your hips, finding absolute solace in the feel of your skin. He could be against you forever, and he would not complain, so long as it did last for such a time. “Makes me want to do things to you y/n y/l/n. Terrible things. What would the heads think?” He asked, in reference to those that were in charge of the institute.

Stifling down remarked laughter at his sensually intended words, you raised your forefinger to the space above his brows, and poked him with enough pressure, so that he would pay attention to the notion. “That you’re not thinking with your own.” You went to cross your arms, but instead, Jace grabbed them, moving down to cast his hand over your own.

“Oh, I’m not.” The shadowhunter confirmed, placing your hand upon the crotch of his sweats, applying enough force behind his grip so that you could feel him twitching. “I am indeed having thoughts from elsewhere, would you like to see my sweet?” Licking your lips, you nodded, watching as he peeled the layer away, wrapping your hand around his base, and giving him a few jerks, feeling his pulse race through his cock.

“Tell me more about what you’re thinking my love.” You bit your bottom lip, fluttering your eyelashes up at him, only to reverberate a groan from the blonde male. He panted as your pace quickened, and he was almost certain that he was going to spray his jizz all over the floor if you did not uphold your sexual administrations. His head leant back, as pleasured sounds broke through the clenching of his teeth.

And then, it all stopped as a voice, dressed in absolute disgust, written over with unmotivated shock, interrupted your little exchange. “Really guys, this is a gym, not your damned bedroom. The two of you really are disgusting!” It was Alec, and he cringed at the fact that he had seen his best friend’s cock being stroked in your grasp. Yeah, he wasn’t going to be training today, or at least, not in the asserted place for it.

“Clary.” Izzy called her name, wearing a short lived smile. Whence she studied the expression of the redhead, she was quick to pay attention to the disappointment upon her face. There was confusion laddered in her skin, masking it with creased that made her look worried all at the same time. “What happened?” The Lightwood woman asked concerned, bracing a hand upon said girl’s shoulder.

“Jace snapped at me.” The newcomer informed her, frowning at the prospect, and then after all that, he had stormed off, as though she didn’t even matter. She felt well and truly rejected, like a newspaper that had been tossed in the street, and ending up in a horrible puddle. “I thought he might have liked me, but his attitude says otherwise.”

Izzy twitched her nose; she knew what day it was. There was no way to break it to Clary easy that Jace had no amorous emotions towards her, and so instead of being blunt with the new resident at the institute, she decided to tell the woman a story. “There was a girl...” she began, knowing that after all was explained, that Clary would understand.

[neopuppy]

Dive Into You: Part 2. (M)

Preview: “You’re not seriously just fucking with her to get back at me are you? It’s not like everyones talking about you being dads problem child here.” Jeno’s arms fold over his chest. Bicep muscles straining under tight sleeves.

“Shouldn’t you be happy? I’m allowing you to spend alone time with your church girl. You should be thanking me nono.”

Pairing: brothers Jeno/Haechan x female reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Genre: pwp, church boys AU, smut, love triangle, brothers nohyuck

Warning: daddy issues, sacrilegious themes, explicit language, master manipulator Haechan, innocent Jeno, virgin reader, corruption, bible quotes

Smut Warning: oral(F receiving), slight sensory deprivation, fingering, all in church.

Intro—>

Part 1–>

“I told the new family in town that you’d be showing their daughter around boys. I expect you to be on your best behavior.” Pastor Lee slaps a hand over Jeno’s shoulder with a firm grip. “No funny business.”

“You got it, father. You know, like because you’re a pastor.” Haechan snorts, pouring hot steaming coffee into a ceramic mug.

“Ha ha ha, you’re hilarious. Make sure your brother acts right. People around town are already talking enough about my atrocious parenting skills. Word travels fast in these small towns you know.” Pastor Lee adjusts his tie in the mirror. Stepping out of the front door with not even a wave goodbye. Jeno left rubbing at his shoulder with irritation.

“What time do you want to head out?” He questions, eyes burning into Haechans back.

“Oh, I can’t do that ‘show the new townies’ around thing today. Got a brunch date in the next town over with someones mom.” Haechan turns, leaned back along the kitchen counter blowing steam from his coffee.

“What?? She’s your girlfriend now. Aren’t you supposed to hang out with her tonight?” Jeno’s eyes widen befuddled. More in disbelief his brother would be two timing you, familiar with his antics.

“Your point?” Haechan scoffs, checking messages through his phone. Petty smirk on his lips sending you a ‘miss you’ text.

“You’re a dog. You’re not seriously just fucking with her to get back at me are you? It’s not like everyones talking about you being dads problem child here.” Jeno’s arms fold over his chest. Bicep muscles straining under tight sleeves.

“Shouldn’t you be happy? I’m allowing you to spend alone time with your church girl. Should be thanking me nono.”

“Dick..” Jeno mutters, grabbing his bag to head out. Not wanting to spend another minute around his brother.

“Wait a minute..” Haechan grabs a hold on Jeno’s arm, pulling him back into the kitchen. “Take good care of my girl today yea?” Jeno’s eyes squint as his brother sneaks a $20 bill into his side jacket pocket.

“Maybe get her a milk shake or something. Whatever it is you kids drink. We’re not really going on a date tonight if you know what I mean.” Haechans eyes shift around mischievously. Knowing damn well Jeno knows. Knowing exactly what to say to get under his skin.

Jeno grips at Haechans collar, huffing against his face. Anger seething through fingertips aching to bring his brother physical pain. Jaw tightening, resisting the deep urge inside building for years everyday.

“Gonna give me a black eye nono? What will father think when he finds out his bad seed is also abusive?” Lips curling with a slick grin. Haechan the expert on how to push Jeno’s buttons. Worked on himself well to get exactly what he wants.

“That’s what you want isn’t it?” Jeno clenches the fabric between his fist, arms shaking with rage. “You’re the perfect one, I’m the fuck up. You’re the one dad brags about, I’m the one he pretends doesn’t exist.”

“You think your daddy issues would get your little church girl turned on? Should I tell her how you cry yourself to sleep wishing you were me?” Haechan snorts, loosening from of Jeno’s grip. Hands smoothing out his freshly ironed shirt.

“I’ve never wanted to be anything like you. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

“That’s not true nono..” Haechan pulls on a jacket. Fingers twirling around keys. “You know how much I love my car” with a cocky wink matching a shit eating grin Haechan heads out. Leaving Jeno festering in his anger. Fists slamming against the counter. Back tense with underlying hatred, hatred for himself. Tired of how easily Haechan manages to provoke him.

——————————————————————————

Jeno’s nervous, pissed off, feeling anxious. Pacing back and forth in front of your house. He didn’t have much of a choice with the looming threat of getting shipped back off to Jesus camp hovering his mind. The idea to ditch this whole ordeal passing his thoughts more than once. It’s not that he liked you, but it’s also not necessarily that he didn’t like you. Convincing himself he just hasn’t gotten any for too long now. Dick probably desperate for anything at this point. Nothing related to how cute you looked with your lips all swollen after kissing him. Jacking off at home that night reliving the events long forgotten.

Forget about stroking himself off in the shower the next morning again. Or the other five more times since. No he didn’t like you, not really..

“Aren’t you one of Pastor Lee’s sons??” And older woman carrying bags of groceries approaches. Lipstick covering her two front teeth, over sized dress hanging from her body.

“Oh uh.. yes I am. I’m supposed to.. show your.. daughter? Around today..” Jeno stutters out, mentally slapping himself.

“Oh..” the woman adjusts a bag in her hold, throat clearing. “What about that lovely brother of yours? What’s his name again?”

“Haechan..” Jeno’s eyes shift, looking away. How did his brother manage to convince everyone he was such an angel. A modern day fallen angel, roaming earth in disguise.

“Ah that’s it..” she makes a sound of disapproval, bag dropping on the porch. “A polite young boy would have offered assistance.” Voice lowly whispering as she unlocks the front door. Jeno’s eyes darting between the groceries and woman, cursing himself yet again for coming off exactly how everyone says.

“I’ll call her down.” She steps inside. Loud shouting vocals calling out your name. The sound of foot steps against stairs following. Your figure appearing, dressed up to impress. Jeno’s throat itching, swallowing, adjusting his collar.

“That’s not your bike- is it?!” Your mothers shrieking voice questions. Eyes bulging out, taking in the sleek black motorcycle off the sidewalk.

“I’m here!” Your smile falls, only spotting one brother waiting for you outside. Not the one you’d expect even. You subtly give a look around, searching for someone else maybe hiding in surprise. Jeno unfortunately does not fail to notice.

“That is my bike Ma’m.. it’s safe. I promise.” He holds up two helmets. Craving to crawl into a hole under your moms scrutinizing gaze.

“I’m not so sure about this..” she mumbles. Eyes glaring into Jeno, trying to put the fear of God...fear of a strict crazy mother, in him.

“It’ll be fine mom! He has a helmet! I’ve been on a motorcycle with dad before!” You lean up, pecking your mothers cheek. Summer dress twirling up with air as you run forward. Jeno catching a glimpse of your underwear. Shifting a helmet over his groin momentarily.

“I thought Haechan was coming too?” You asks, taking the helmet held out for you. Typically being his brothers helmet, little did you know.

“He’s busy.. errands out of town or something.” Jeno mumbles, avoiding your eyes. He’s being weird, but then again you didn’t know him well enough to confirm he wasn’t always this way.

“Oh.. well I guess I’ll see him later anyway.” You frown, tugging at the light fabric of your dress. What a waste. “You ride a motorcycle?”

“Yea.. I don’t have a car so.. you’ve been on one before you said?” Jeno’s brows furrow. Eyes trained on your feet, teeth digging into his lower lip. You had to wear cute strappy sandals with a summer dress. That just made sense, to show off your cute freshly painted toes..Jeno’s brain feels like its turning in his skull. Lips begging for mercy to let out a scream.

“I actually haven’t. Just said that to make my mom shut up.” You lean in close. Lips grazing his earlobe as you whisper. Words muffled, Jeno blinking slowly. Perfume wafting around his head, as if this could get any worse.

“Uh..” Jeno steps away abruptly. “Put that on!” His voice awkwardly shouts to you, chin jerking toward the helmet in your hands. Head shaking, pulling on his own. Straddling around the bike seat, engine coming to life.

“Am I supposed to hold on to you?” You stand to Jeno’s side. Admiring the shining black bike, fitting for his character. At least physically.

“I..” Jeno’s breath catches under his helmet shield. Only now realizing you’ll be riding with him around today. Legs parted on him.. arms squeezing his abdomen.

“Jeno??..” you pull on your helmet with confusion. He wasn’t much for words it seemed. So opposite of his brother.

“Uh.. yea.. just hold on to me..” he sighs to himself. Sounding more displeased than intended. Uncomfortable awkwardness travels through you watching his shoulders slump. With reluctance, you lift your leg. Straddling Jeno’s back, bad day to wear a short dress..

“This is kind of..” your lips purse together, center a little too close to Jeno’s body. More than close, right on him. Cotton airy smell coming off his black jean jacket. Scent fresh and clean, hair lingering of lightly scented shampoo. His broad shoulders covering majority of your view.

“You should.. hold on tight.” Jeno licks his cracking lips. Foot kicking up the bikes lock. With another look toward your mom motioning the sign of the cross. You lean your body forward, chest pressed up on Jeno’s wide back. Arms circling around his small waist.

Jeno’s own thoughts rolling in like rapid fire. Throat squeezing in, heat between your bodies pressed together moving between his legs. Trying to focus on anything, anything but your breasts pressing into him. Anything besides your smooth thighs around him. The memory of kissing you too vividly choosing to repeat itself.

“God be with you!” Your mothers voice screams out. Bike engine too loud as Jeno rides off. Your dress blowing behind you, smile covering your face. Chin on his shoulder, admiring the view of your new home.

Could only be an even more perfect moment if it was Haechan you were wrapped around..

——————————————————————————

“That’s it? A diner? That’s the tour of the town?” You twirl around the cherry sat atop melting whipped cream. Chocolate shake looking unblended and less than appetizing.

“There really isn’t much to do here..” Jeno mumbles, chin tucked into his chest. Basket of half eaten fries more interesting than you apparently.

“I could have told you that..” you murmur in response. Sitting back in the booth with boredom. Jeno does the same, brows furrowing in thought. A minute or five of silence passing. He grunts lowly, pulling his phone out.

“Look at you two!” Mark jogs over sporting a huge smile stretched across his cheeks. Red and white striped apron covering what looks like an all white uniform.

“You work here?!” You sit up, eyeing the uniform. Almost too fitting, a too old altar boy working part time at a cheap fifties diner.

“Well of course, phone bills don’t pay themselves! Timothy 6:10 For the love of money, is the root of all kinds of evil!” Mark proclaims, finger waggling about like a mad man. Your lips pulling back over your teeth in...displeasure.

“Right..”

“Fucking shit” Jeno groans, kicking at a foot under the table. Tsking as thumbs slam down at his phone screen.

“Ah Jeno! Proverbs 21:23! Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble!” Mark places hands on his hips. Lips pursed together with disappointment.

“Yea..sorry Jesus. Whatever.” Jeno mumbles again, eyes not moving from his phone.

“Gamers right” Mark shakes his head your way. Eyes lighting up, taking your own phone out.

“What do you play??” you scoot in closer to Jeno. Closing the space between the two of you in the booth. His shoulders stiffen, curling in hunched over the table.

“Kartrider..” Jeno barely whispers. Catching enough of it, familiar with the game.

“I play too! Oh! I bet I have a better rank than you!” Laughing unlocking your phone, swiping the game open. “Look at my character, she’s so cute!”

“There’s no way you’re better than me....I’m always top ranking in this county..” Jeno’s eyes widen. Forgetting about his current race, watching you hold up your phone with laughter.

“Come on, let’s race. I’m gonna kick your ass!” You lean in closer, reading out Jeno’s ID as you enter it in. “Add me!”

“Language!” Mark sighs, head shaking with both of you. “God’s children have truly fallen. After everything the lord has done for us.”

“Come on Jeno! Play me! I’ll go easy on you” nudging at his side with a wink. Your smile grows, finally something you can do together. Jeno dragging you around downtown past rusty antique shops. The only thing that caught your interest a quant little family owned bookstore. Learning fast he wasn’t much for conversation. Face appearing pained and uninterested with every word from you.

“Don’t feel like playing anymore..” Jeno shuts his phone, screen turning black.

“What?! Aw come on. Can’t stand the thought of a girl beating you?” Jeno leans back, eyes taking in your face slowly. All he cared about was winning, competing in stupid games just to achieve a high ranking. You’d win of course, he’d never let you lose.

“Just don’t feel like playing anymore.”

——————————————————————————-

“Thanks for showing me around, the one street you took me to.” Your voice drips with sarcasm. Hopping off the back of Jeno’s bike. He removes his own helmet, hair flopping around messily. “Was fun I guess.”

“Yea well” Jeno holds out his hand for the helmet you borrowed. You hold it under your arm, brow quirking in confusion. Your hand slowly lifting, placing in his. Jeno’s eyes widen, staring at your hands held together. Too many feelings rushing at him all at once.

“Helmet!” Jeno shouts abruptly, hand flying away from yours like you’re too disgusting to touch.

“Geeze, fine. Sorry...” you place the helmet on the back end of Jeno’s bike. Turning away, without even a goodbye. He grabs your elbow, your foot stopping mid-air.

“You..” head turning, staring down where he holds you.

“Yes?” You implore him to continue. Jeno’s hand dropping from you when you fully turn to face him again.

“You.. you really like my brother..?” Jeno’s eyes fall to the ground. Thick dark eyelashes shadowing across his cheeks.

“Yea of course. Is that what this is about Jeno? I really do like him, I would never use someone.” You smile, bouncing back on your heels. Jeno’s lips suck in with frustration.

“Wish I could say the same about him.” Jeno mumbles, turning his engine back on.

“What was that?” Voice raising, trying to speak above the loud roar from the motorcycle. Jeno flicks down his helmet shield, speeding off. Cloud of dust surrounding you. Smacking at the air coughing out, bike disappearing behind dusts.

“Fucking jerk.”

—————————————————————————-

“Haechan! Where are we going? The church?!” Your shoes lift up dust. Arm in his hold pulling you toward the small old building.

“Where else would we go baby? Can’t go to my place, the holy spirit’s home.” Haechan laughs, pulling a lanyard from his back pocket. “Besides, this is my dads church you know right? It’s like my property too, we’re safe here under God’s watchful eye.”

“Isn’t this.. I don’t know. Sacrilegious?!” You anxiously follow him inside. Haechans easy smile comforting you, arms wrapping around your waist. He steps back down the center aisle. Pews displayed at your sides, Haechan leading you one in front. He pulls you to the center of the pew, sitting with hands on your hips.

“This feels..” you start, chest rising and falling faster as guilt passes through you.

“Wrong? God didn’t make us this way..” his hand smooths down your bare thigh. Passing the fresh new dress just for your date tonight. Fingers skirting between your thighs, one playing at a side covering your mound. “..for us to not touch and explore..”

“It’s just..” your hands grip at the front of the pew behind you. Where you’d normally kneel to pray..

“Just?..” Haechans eyes gaze up at you. Pure sin and danger hidden in the face of an angel. Tongue sliding up your other thigh. “You’re so sweet.”

You sigh in defeat, legs quivering, upper body doing the work to hold you up. His head dipping under your dress, nose pressing into your slit. Cotton from your panties shoving between you. Soft moans sounding from underneath, Haechans tongue licking at your underwear. Enough to properly soak them up, allowing drool to freely fall from his mouth. You gnaw at your lip, gathering up your dress fabric in one hand. Admiring the way the beautiful boy between your legs eats you up.

Haechan lets out a dreamy sigh. Long fingers stroking up and down your thighs. Teeth biting your at core with cloth between. Your stomach folds in, curling closer to where he sits below you. Fingers wrapping around the sides of your panties, tongue lapping at your inner thighs.

“Body of a virgin can heal more sins than body of christ you know..” underwear at your knees. Haechan leans back in, lips wrapping around your clit. Tongue swirling around, suctioning between. Your other hand lifting to your mouth, biting down on your thumb. Muffled moans and whines echoing around the church walls.

Haechans eyes stay on your face, tongue rolling your clit around. Hands squeezing your inner thighs, pulling back, clapping down slaps. Your hips jolting forward with suppressed cries. Everything about him was absolutely depraved. Looks deceiving from the boy your mother had always warned you about.

“Don’t hide your pretty sounds baby.” Haechan pulls away. Lips shining, coated in your wetness. Glares from the colored glass reflecting off his skin. Red tinted eyes sparkling up at you. Haechan reaches for your wrist, yanking your hand out from your mouth. His lips part open, tongue swirling around your entrance. Sucking up the wetness gathering around.

“Oh God!” You shout out, neck loosely dropping back. Tears on the brink of escaping the corners of your eyes.

“That’s it baby. You pray to me now.” Haechan groans, mouth closing over your entire mound. Eyes rolling back into his head, swiping up and down your core. Hands finding his hair, fingers digging into his scalp. Haechans tongue thrusts into your tight entrance, muscle working extra hard to enter.

“Oh my God!” Body shaking, ass digging into the pew. Hips twitching forward, grinding against Haechans face. Chin covered in your wetness, tongue wiggling inside you. Fingers finding way to your clit, pinching and rolling the bud. “Oh my God!!”

Haechan groans inside you, scalp in pain from your pulling. Cock hardening in his jeans, taste of innocence in his mouth nearly orgasmic. You taste too fucking good, nothing like that used up whore from earlier..

“I-I c-can’t!” Haechans fingers work at your clit. Rapidly sweeping back and forth. Tongue sliding out, jaw hung open. Eyes return to your face, smile breaking out over his cheeks.

“You can.” He pants, tongue hung out lazily lapping at your hole. Clit pinched between two fingers, massaging every little nerve. “Cum on my tongue.”

Your head drops forward, tear slipping free. Haechans raspy tone saying those words driving you past your limit. Ass lifted off the pew, core convulsing. Haechans tongue placed against your fluttering entrance. Catching all of your release. You weakly fall forward again, forehead resting on top of his messed up hair.

“So good.” Haechan moans words out, licking clean the wetness seeping from you. Neck lifting, hands cupping your cheeks. “Taste.”

Tongue pushing between your parted lips, trying to catch your breath. Haechan laps at your tongue, realization hitting you in seconds what he’s making you do. Tasting yourself between your lips. His tongue covering every corner inside your mouth. Haechans hands return to your hips, pulling you off the front of the pew to straddle his lap.

“You want it?” His hand digs into the back of your hair. Jean clad dick shoving between your thighs at your heated core. Weakly nodding, eyes half open lazily pecking pouty lips. Haechan lays back down flat across the pew. Warm hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly. “Come here.”

Your head nods, under his command. Mind controlled by whatever he’s saying, telling you ‘I want it- no matter what it is.’ If it’s from Haechan- give it to me, now. You lay down on his chest, kisses continuing. Hands squeezing around your ass, pulling up your dress. Hands flying down hard with mean slaps. Fingers gliding down finding way between your legs again. Skimming up and down your slit from the back. Soft moans passing between your swollen lips.

Body tensing, sounds of the large entrance doors opening up with a slam. Haechans eyes open up staring into yours, brows lifted. His lips purse out with a silent ‘shhh’, earning a rapid head shake from you. Familiar smirk pulling at his lips, free hand clamping over your mouth. Your eyes widen, lips pressing into the palm of Haechans hand. Fingertips circling around your needy entrance. Panic rushing through you as loud foot steps approach closer and closer.

Your forehead shoved up against Haechans. Mouth closed off, silent whimpers falling out behind his hand. Finger sliding inside you, his lit up eyes watching your expressive eyes react. The fear and curiosity alone could make him cum.

“Are you kidding me!” A flash light shines over your faces. Mark standing at the end of the pew in disgust. Your head lifts quickly, ripping Haechans hand off your mouth. Cheeks heating up absolutely mortified. Moving fast, adjusting your dress to cover up. Haechan stays laid down, eyes fluttering shut with irritation.

“Fucking cock block.” He whispers to himself, sitting up. Tent in his jeans extremely evident.

“I knew you stole my keys again Haechan!” Mark clicks the flash light on and off angrily. Both of you covering your eyes. “and you! Mary of Magdala! You should be ashamed! Think of your mother!”

“Dude, chill.” Haechan stands, hands held up trying to block the bright light from his eyes. “We weren’t doing anything.”

“Weren’t doing anything?!? If people found out what you were doing, this one would be getting pelted with stones!” Mark passes the light over your face. You cringe, hands coming up to hide yourself.

“Mark, quick, what’s the verse about fucking that really cute voice of an angel choir boy?” Haechan throws him a knowing look, pulling a lanyard from his pocket. Marks eyes widen, snatching his keys away.

“Don’t steal my keys again! Next time I will be telling your father!” Mark scurries away, door slamming behind him.

“Oh my God he’s gonna tell your dad!” You panic, pulling your dress down. Attempting to wipe away any mascara that could be on your cheeks.

“Nah he’d never, can’t risk everyone finding out about Renjun. Don’t worry baby, I got something on everyone.” Haechan pulls you in, gently pecking your lips. Your senses relax, mind torn with stress still. Who the fuck were you right now..

“You know..” Haechan turns you around, hand scooping your chin. “I’m gonna fuck you. Right there.” He holds your jaw up. Eyes on landing on the altar.

“Jesus will know all your sins after I’m done with you.”

Part 3–>

Taglist:

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[robininthelabyrinth]

I'm pretty sure this is prompt four. Jiang Cheng/Qin Su - Jin Rusong as heir to Lotus Pier

ao3

Jiang Cheng heard the news in pieces, scraps of wild rumor and gossip repeated a hundred times over, but he still refused to believe it until he actually saw the official announcement.

Jin Guangyao had divorced his wife and sent her back to her father’s house, along with their son.

“Is he insane?” Jiang Cheng asked his second in command, who only shrugged helplessly. “Putting aside the fact that I’m certain that he loves her madly, putting everything else aside, Sect Leader Qin is influential and powerful, and a strong supporter of his father – no matter what happened between them, surely someone as pleasant and compromising as Jin Guangyao could find a way to work it out?”

Jiang Cheng had only met Qin Su a few times, always at Jin Guangyao’s side. He’d heard about how she’d fallen for the dashing young man that turned out to be Jin Guangyao and sworn to marry him, no matter the obstacles; he’d heard how they’d managed to overcome every storm, fight the wind and rain, and eventually made it to their marriage bed.

They’d even had a son together, little Jin Rusong; he was Jin Ling’s best playmate.

And Jin Guangyao was kicking him out? Kicking her out?

Absurd!

Who did he think he was?

And yet, contrary to Jiang Cheng’s expectations, Sect Leader Qin did not immediately explode, or, rather, within a few days, he did, but not in the way anyone had expected. Everyone had joked that he would find Jin Guangyao and strangle him, and he really did physically attack someone – but not Jin Guangyao.

He attacked Jin Guangshan instead.

It was as if he’d gone mad, red-eyed like Nie Mingjue in the throes of his qi deviation; he’d charged at Jin Guangshan, his old friend of thirty years or more, right in the middle of Jinlin Tower, and swiped at him viciously with his sword, cutting a gash in his chest as the surprised Jin sect leader darted back too slowly to wholly dodge.

What could be done? The Lanling Jin sect guards could not stand silently by with such provocation – they counter-attacked at once, and Sect Leader Qin did not survive. A little later, and it was discovered that he had never intended on it: his sword was laced with poison.

Sect Leader Qin died, but he took Jin Guangshan down with him the underworld.

The rumor mill exploded.

Everyone was talking about Sect Leader Qin’s motivations – the suspicious timing of the divorce – Jin Guangyao’s now inevitable ascension to the seat of Sect Leader Jin –

Only Jiang Cheng thought about Qin Su, who should have been ascending right beside him. It had been her father that had died, after all.

Laoling Qin was far enough away from Lanling Jin that they were still mostly independent, and they were close enough to the Qinghe Nie that Jiang Cheng could pretend that he’d only made a short detour on a visit directed towards Nie Huaisang, that notorious purveyor of gossip; luckily enough, Nie Huaisang remembered their old friendship and was more than happy to help cover his tracks.

When Jiang Cheng arrived, the house was already decked out in mourning. Qin Su greeted him, eyes red and swollen from tears.

“I’m sorry,” Jiang Cheng said awkwardly, then flinched when he realized he probably should have said something in greeting first – they really didn’t know each other well enough to skip over all that.

Nevertheless, Qin Su nodded, forgiving him the slip-up before he could even retract it. She was gracious and gentle, kind and quiet, economical and thoughtful – a consummate hostess. The wife of Jin Guangyao could not afford to be anything less.

Former wife.

Jiang Cheng’s gaze danced around the room, searching for something to say, and then abruptly he noticed – “There are two deaths in your household?”

“My mother took her own life,” Qin Su said, her voice dull. She tried to suppress it, but tears gathered in her eyes again. “Shortly before…”

Whatever it was that Jin Guangshan had done that had driven Sect Leader Qin mad, it had involved his wife, Jiang Cheng thought, and then abruptly he turned pale as he put two and two together. He’d never doubted that Jin Guangyao had adored Qin Su, so why would he divorce her?

Unless…

Jin Guangshan had a reputation.

Qin Su laughed a little, a bitter sound. “Everyone will know, soon enough,” she said wisely, seeing that Jiang Cheng had figured it out. “I don’t blame my former husband at all; he acted as he ought to in every respect. It’s only my poor A-Song…I can’t imagine what his life will be like from now on.”

Jiang Cheng looked helplessly at her. To lose not only your parents, one right after the other, but your husband, your reputation, and next even your son…

“Marry me,” he said suddenly, and Qin Su stared at him. “If Sect Leader Jin’s assault were recent rather than ancient, it would have provoked the same result. The only reason anyone might suspect the truth is because of the timing of your divorce – if there’s a reason given for that, people won’t think twice about it.”

His words had come out all in a rush, smashing together like stones tossed around by a waterfall; he hadn’t thought of the idea until right this moment.

“Are you suggesting I admit to adultery?” she asked. Her eyes were as round as the full moon.

Jiang Cheng shrugged, a little helpless. “Your reputation is gone,” he pointed out, wishing he knew how to be kind or tactful. “Adultery or incest – it’s the same either way for you. But for A-Song…”

To be the son of an adulterous woman was disgraceful, but such things happened and people generally looked the other way, as long as the real father was powerful enough.

It was better than being a child of incest.

“But what of your reputation?” she asked. “Sect Leader Jiang, you can’t. I won’t let you injure yourself for my sake.”

“Not for you,” he said, though maybe it was, just a little bit. The loss of your parents, the loss of your whole life, everything you’d ever believed – who could understand that better than him? “For A-Song. He’s Jin Ling’s best friend.”

Qin Su had always been kind to Jin Ling, he thought. She didn’t need to be, could just tolerate him the way most people in Jinlin Tower did, but she really seemed to like him…

It occurred to him suddenly that Qin Su met all of his requirements for a bride: a beauty from a good family, obedient, economical, with a mild personality who wasn’t too loud and wasn’t too talkative, who was good to Jin Ling…

“How’s your cultivation?” he asked abruptly. “Do you know how to cook?”

“Mediocre,” she said, blinking at him. “And I’m better at baking, I think. I like making sweets.”

“Good,” Jiang Cheng said, relieved. “That’s – good. I’m glad. Will you marry me?”

Qin Su bit her lip. “Let me think about it?”

Thoughtful, he added to the list. Cautious, not reckless.

“Take all the time you need,” he said.

She came back to him two shichen later. “What happens to A-Song?” she asked.

“I’ll adopt him as my own,” Jiang Cheng said. “Or he can keep the surname Jin, if you prefer. And if Lianfeng-zun agrees, which I think he will – it’s his birthright, after all.” Too many times over. “Jin Ling lives with me sometimes; they can grow up as cousins, the way they should.”

Qin Su nodded, lips trembling a little. “You won’t regret this?”

“I might,” Jiang Cheng admitted. “But I’m probably not going to marry anyone else, and I’m willing. Are you?”

“I am,” she said, and smiled at him. Her eyes were still red, and the smile shaky, but it was something. “Thank you. I…no, never mind.”

“If we’re going to be married, you’re going to need to learn to ask things of me,” he reminded her.

Qin Su wiped her eyes. “Yes, but there’s asking reasonable things, and then there’s asking to alert my former husband before we announce our engagement.”

“Oh, no, that’s a great idea,” Jiang Cheng said, immediately relieved. “If there’s one thing Lianfeng-zun knows, it’s how to manage an announcement of that sort of magnitude. We should definitely tell him.”

Qin Su’s smile this time was stronger.

Nie Huaisang pulled a few strings and got Jin Guangyao to come over to the Unclean Realm, and when he walked in and saw Qin Su, he flinched. Jiang Cheng could see on his face that he still loved her, and he felt bad for him – not enough to stop, but still.

“I see,” Jin Guangyao said, hearing the plan. His expression was surprisingly neutral – thoughtful, but not as upset as Jiang Cheng would have expected. “It’s not a bad idea. And you don’t even need to admit to adultery, either.”

“We don’t?” Jiang Cheng asked, surprised.

“We can say that my marriage with A-Su broke down after my father’s actions - painting them as recent, rather than ancient,” Jin Guangyao explained. “I didn’t feel I could oppose him, she had no choice but to do so – it was an irrevocable breach. You came to comfort her, having met her during your visits with Jin Ling, and her sect is in need of support…you can say it developed naturally from there. It might not work to quell the rumors, of course, but it would at least provide a way to save face in public…Leave it to me.”

“Thank you, A-Yao,” Qin Su said quietly, and he smiled at her, pained.

“Just be happy,” he said to her, then looked at Jiang Cheng. “Treat her well.”

“I will,” Jiang Cheng promised, and took her by the hand. “I swear.”

-

It was a few years later. Nie Huaisang sat beside Jiang Cheng.

“I think he killed my brother,” he said, playing with his fan. “I’m going to destroy him.”

Jiang Cheng stared at the newest memorial tablet in the Lotus Pier, his hands clenched into fists with knuckles turned white.

“Good,” he said, voice savage. “I’ll help.”