#she’s talented but idk she must’ve been more reserved back then

[bomnun]

yuna from brave girls really started shining after their chart reversal in 2021. among fans 2016-2021 she was jokingly nicknamed “the expressionless queen”, and in the first couple of stages before that first inkigayo win it seems like she doesn’t want to be there, but after that win, boy, her entire way of being on stage changed. she got really smiley, started really feeling herself and seemed to really enjoy singing and dancing, in a way she always must have always had the potential to. it makes me sad that she really only got about a year and a half to perform like that, actually being appreciated and receiving validation, out of a seven year contract…

[sometimesbeforeitgetsbetter]

Off the Record | Stiles Stilinski

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader

Summary: High school in Beacon Hills, as told through the eyes of one inquisitive journalist who has a knack at getting on Stiles Stilinski's nerves.

Warnings: idk there's like a couple curse words lmao. also, spoilers? if you haven't finished teen wolf I guess??

Word count: 8,227

A/N: hi hi this is my first fic I'm posting on Tumblr (not to say that this is my first fic ever...anyway)! before you start, I just wanna say that there's a couple things that might be off from the show but please just ignore them. like I think it's bs Lydia brings Stiles back and not Scott in 6b so I righted that wrong. but I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think of it! thanks for reading!!

--

All my life I’ve wondered why people didn’t question what happens in Beacon Hills.

It’s no secret that our town is unusual, but when odd things seemed to happen, people would just turn a blind eye and go about their business.

I, on the other hand, couldn’t let it go. I was inquisitive by nature, and my mom never knew how to answer my questions.

Why do we have so many animal attacks?

What happened to the people that disappeared in the Preserve?

Why did his eyes glow like that?

That last question almost caused my mom to get me a therapist – which probably would’ve helped me regardless – but she just continued to answer with her usual responses.

They just feel threatened by us, dear.

They’re in a better place now.

I’m sure it was nothing – you probably just saw some reflection in his eyes.

But no matter what she told me, I wasn’t satisfied. I knew there was something bigger going on, something my mom couldn’t explain, but I wasn’t sure what. As I got older, however, I realized that if I kept voicing my concerns, I’d be seen as the local crazy person – which, at the time, was the title reserved for my neighbor, Donna Romano, who always went to Town Hall meetings to complain about how some supernatural creatures were traumatizing her dogs every time she took them out at night to urinate.

Out of fear of sounding like Donna, I kept my suspicions to myself. I observed the strange actions of those around me and kept note of the bizarre events that happened in town. I found that it was something I was good at – observing. Always watching, but never voicing my opinions. Eventually, it got the best of me because I grew really quiet at school. But I didn’t mind. I liked being a wallflower.

One day in the fifth grade I saw my mom reading the Beacon Chronicle and I had an epiphany – journalists investigate weird, inexplicable events, so I should be a journalist. Reading the news became my favorite pastime, and by sixth grade I decided I would join the high school newspaper, The Daily Beacon, when I became a freshman. I figured maybe it would give me an outlet to investigate the odd occurrences in the town without looking like a lunatic.

But in sixth grade, I noticed that some of the odd things had stopped happening. There were less animal attacks and disappearances from the Preserve. Some people had even left town, including the last of the Hales, whose house had burned down that same year.

I didn’t give up hope though. I kept my head down and waited for things to get weird again. In the meantime, I wrote for enjoyment. In eighth grade I started shadowing a girl named Anna that was a part of the Daily Beacon, and I started writing articles – album reviews, movie reviews, school news.

Everything was going smoothly until my sophomore year of high school. Suddenly the weird things were happening, and I was sure that there was one person that was at the epicenter of it all – Scott McCall.

--

“...Angela, you’re covering the new faculty; Thomas, you’ve got the new Vegan Support Group club some juniors just created; and y/n, you’re covering lacrosse try-outs,” said Andrew, the editor-in-chief of the Daily Beacon.

I groaned slightly. “Andrew, couldn’t I write something a little bit more...my style? Like what about the one freshman class that boycotted their summer reading and is facing suspension?”

He gave me a slight look. “y/n, you know how important this lacrosse piece is. You know what that sport means to the school. You should be glad I’m giving you this opportunity,” he scolded. “Besides, Marlene is covering that class and is already interviewing their teacher.”

I nodded slowly and tried to refrain from rolling my eyes. I knew that Andrew meant well – he had been like an older brother to me ever since my freshman year – and he was right about the importance of lacrosse. I stayed quiet until he dismissed us, then mentally prepared myself to spend my afternoon watching some jocks exude machismo on a field.

When my last class was over, I walked over to the lacrosse field and found myself a spot on the top of the bleachers. It gave me an excellent vantage point – until a couple girls sat down right in front of me. The redhead I recognized to be Lydia Martin, the school’s resident popular girl. We’d been in class together all our lives, but I couldn’t remember a time she ever talked to me. I’m sure she didn’t even know I existed, just like the majority of the other people in our grade. The other girl, however, I didn’t recognize. I found out her name was Allison by overhearing their conversation. She was new and must have just moved to Beacon Hills.

The shrill sound of Coach’s whistle knocked me out of my thoughts. Tryouts started, and I watched as Scott McCall, a boy from my grade, was nearly knocked out by a lacrosse ball to the face. I winced but wrote down the event in the notebook I had out for documentation.

The next ball that went Scott’s way didn’t hit his face though. He managed to catch it in his goalie net. I couldn’t help but be a bit surprised – like Lydia, I’d known of Scott my whole life though he probably didn’t know me at all. But that meant I knew he was an asthmatic that wasn’t particularly skilled at sports.

“He’s actually pretty good,” I mumbled to myself as Scott continued to catch every ball that came his way.

I didn’t realize how loud I must’ve said it though because at my remark Allison turned around. “I was just thinking the same thing,” she said, obviously surprised. “Do you know him?”

I shook my head and quickly turned my attention to my notebook to write down the surprising turn of events. “Are you writing about this for the school newspaper?” I looked back up at Allison’s question. She was paying attention to me?

“Um, yeah, I am. I’d rather not write about sports, but here I am,” I joked lightly.

She let out a beautiful laugh at my statement. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. I’m Allison, and you are…?”

“y/n,” I answered. “Nice to meet you, Allison.” Suddenly the crowd roared, and I remembered why I was there. Allison, too, smiled and turned her attention back to the game. Lydia hadn’t said a word, but she was focused on watching Scott absolutely demolish Jackson Highmore, who, in my opinion, needed to be knocked down a few pegs anyway.

The more I watched Scott though, I got this weird feeling. He was good – too good. I tried to ignore my feelings and just focus on writing notes for the ridiculous lacrosse piece, which would include the headline: “Sophomore Scott McCall shines at lacrosse tryouts and becomes team co-captain.” But deep down I knew there was something up with him.

A few days later, I was sitting behind Stiles Stilinski, Scott’s best friend, in English class. Even though I’d had nearly all of my classes with him, we never talked. It originally was because I had a minor crush on him and was afraid I’d pass out if I spoke to him, but eventually it just morphed into me not speaking to many people and being convinced he didn’t know of my existence anyway.

But this one day, I was committed to speaking with him. I had to know what was going on, and if there was one person that knew anything about Scott’s new-found lacrosse talent, it was Stiles.

“Hey, Stiles,” I spoke up from behind him.

The brunette turned around, slightly confused but with that soft smile on his face. “Oh, hey, y/n. What’s up?”

I swear my heart stopped beating for a second. He knew my name? He knew who I was? I shook myself out of my thoughts before I went down the rabbit hole of the implications of him knowing me.

“Oh, nothing much. I’m just writing a piece about lacrosse tryouts for the school newspaper and I was just wondering if you had anything to say about it,” I explained.

He tilted his head slightly and shifted in his seat to more fully face me. “Um, yeah sure. I think it’s going to be a great season, especially since we’ve gotten some new leadership. My boy Scott’s co-captain now, so those Devenford Prep guys won’t know what hit them!”

“Speaking of Scott, when did he get so good at lacrosse? Would you say it’s natural talent?” I pressed a bit, hoping he’d say something that would give me a hint as to what was going on.

Stiles’ eyes squinted a little, and his head tilted slightly again. He seemed to be at a loss for words, which was unusual for the fast-talking, sarcastic boy, but he quickly recovered. “It’s definitely...natural...talent. He’s been working extra hard recently to hone his talent and skills so he could bring his A-game to this year’s tryouts.” When he finished speaking, he looked pleased with himself, and I could tell he had let out a small sigh of relief.

What are you hiding?

Though I didn’t know it yet, at that moment my rivalry with Stiles Stilinski began. He and Scott were hiding something, and I was going to find out what it was.

--

“You’re telling me that a girl is in a coma after the school winter formal and you don’t want me to write a story about it?”

Andrew leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. “It’s not that I don’t want you to write it. I just think it’s a tense time right now. The administration is receiving a lot of flack right now because of the winter formal fiasco, and Ms. Blanchard told me that we may want to avoid stirring the pot right now,” he explained. “That is not to say that we abandon our journalistic integrity and commitment to informing the student body, but we just may want to be sensitive to our environment right now.”

I trusted Ms. Blanchard, the faculty sponsor of the Daily Beacon, but not reporting on Lydia’s comatose state felt wrong. She was well-known at school, and students deserved to know the facts of her situation and how it had happened.Well, maybe I was lying to myself by saying that the real reason I wanted to pursue the story wasn’t the fact that something inexplicable had happened at the dance and I had to figure out what it was.

Andrew could sense my disappointment. “Look, maybe for now you can start collecting information and sources, and I’ll talk to Ms. Blanchard. Maybe she can advise us on how best to proceed.”

I threw my arms around Andrew in a quick hug. “Yes, thank you! I promise I’ll be sensitive when asking sources. I know how difficult this must be for the people close to her.”

“I know you will,” he said, chuckling lightly.

With a smile plastered on my face – perhaps a little inappropriately considering the topic I was excited to cover – I left the small newspaper office in search of my first source: Stiles Stilinski. He had been Lydia’s date to the dance, so surely he must know what happened to her, right? “No, I don’t know what happened,” Stiles angrily responded when I cornered him at his locker. “We were separated for a bit because she went looking for someone. When I went looking for her I–” he stopped suddenly, as if choosing his words carefully. He wouldn’t meet my eyes as he spoke.

“The next thing I know, she was at the hospital in a coma. They told me Jackson had found her out on the field when I went to check on her at the hospital,” he explained.

Something wasn’t adding up. “Ok, but where were you the rest of that time? You didn’t go looking for her when you didn’t see her for a while? What about when she had already been checked into the hospital?”

“What is this – an investigation?” Stiles shouted as he slammed his locker shut. I took a step back, eyes wide at the sudden display of aggression. Maybe I pushed too hard, I thought. Stiles rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath. “Sorry, I….I didn’t mean it like that. There’s just a lot going on, and my dad has been up my ass about those details too. To be honest, I can’t tell you where I was. The time just flew by and all of a sudden I’d realized I hadn’t seen Lydia for a couple hours. I wish I had been there for her, but there’s nothing I can do for her now other than check up on her.”

Running a hand over his buzzed head, he shot me a forced smile and said “good luck with your article” before walking away.

I was at a loss for words, trying to put the pieces together in my head. Surely he couldn’t have had a part in Lydia’s injury? There’s no way. But his defensiveness was off-putting–

“Hey, y/n!” I was snapped out of my thoughts by Allison approaching me from behind. “What were you talking to Stiles about?”

“Huh? Oh, um, I was just asking him about…” I remembered that the funeral for Allison’s aunt was happening and didn’t want to mention the additional stress of her best friend being comatose, so I opted for a white lie. “Biology homework. I wasn’t really paying attention in class today.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you two were friends,” she said as she leant against the lockers.

I shook my head violently. “We’re not.” I’d grown too close to Allison for her to not pick up on my feelings though.

“You say that now, but–”

“I have to get to class. See you at lunch, Ally!”

--

Other things that year were weird, but none warranted any further investigation via newspaper article. Sure, I was wondering about Erica Reyes’ sudden transformation into the ultimate baddie, the mysterious deaths of a mechanic and Isaac Lahey’s dad, numerous paralyzations at the Jungle, and a death of someone at a secret rave, but Andrew thought it would be best for the Chronicle and Ledger to cover those bigger events. In fact, the only other unnatural event that happened that I had to cover for the newspaper was Stiles’ unbelievable winning streak at the lacrosse championship. I would have quoted him after the game, but I really didn’t want to speak to him and anyway, he had disappeared for a bit right after the team won.

I could tell that things were happening, but it was all hidden from public view. I even noticed Allison’s behavior fluctuating. The arrival of her grandfather shook things up, and while he gave me a bad feeling, I couldn’t exactly figure out why. Lydia was more troubled than usual after coming back from the hospital even though she tried to act normally. Jackson was going through something and was more angry and aggressive than usual, but I wasn’t close enough to him to ask him if he was okay.

Over the summer, I spent a surprising amount of time with Lydia. Allison spent her summer in France, but she asked me to keep an eye on Lydia to make sure she was okay, especially since Jackson had moved to London during the summer break. I was surprised how much I enjoyed spending time with the redhead, and we hung out when I wasn’t working at my internship at The Beacon Chronicle, which my mom had convinced me to apply for after she noticed how irritated I was that I couldn’t pursue some of the stories I wanted.

By the time Allison came back before the start of school, it felt like Lydia and I had been best friends for the longest time.

“So, Allison, have you talked to Scott at all this summer?” I asked when I was sitting in the backseat of Lydia’s car, Allison in the passenger seat.

She shook her head. “No, I think I still need some time. He...hides things from me and I don’t know if I can trust him.”

I nodded my head, understanding the feeling. I still couldn’t place my finger on what had happened between them or what Scott was involved in. Though I comforted her when I found out they broke up, I didn’t really know why they’d done it.

“What about you, y/n? Have you talked to Stiles at all?” Allison asked, looking back at me in the backseat.

“Why the hell would I talk to Stiles?” I questioned, confused.

She and Lydia shared a small look that I couldn’t decipher before she shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, but you guys are more similar than you may think. I don’t know why you guys act like you don’t like each other though.”

The car rolled to a stop at the stop light, and all of a sudden I noticed a familiar baby blue jeep approach next to us. “Speak of the devil,” I mumbled. Lydia and Allison didn’t notice Stiles staring and waving at first, but when they did the car was filled with awkward tension.

The next events were a blur: Lydia running the red light, both cars stopping in the middle of the road, and a deer running straight towards us, nearing killing me in the gap between the front seats. We were shaken, and the boys ran towards us when they saw what happened.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked Lydia, but he kept looking at me. I nodded slightly and he turned his full attention back to Lydia.

“What was wrong with it?” Allison asked as Scott got closer to the deer.

“It was scared,” he explained. “No, terrified.”

Things got progressively weirder after that. On the first day of school, I interviewed our new English teacher, Ms. Blake. She was nice enough, but it was unfortunate that her class was the one that a whole flock of birds decided to burst through the classroom windows. By the time the police arrived, I was already drafting up a story in my brain: Why are the animals acting weird in Beacon Hills?

I had overheard Stiles talking to Scott about the deer’s weird behavior and the number of deer-related incidents in California, so I swallowed my pride so that I could talk to him and maybe get some stats and information on the whole situation.

I walked up to him when he was sitting alone, texting on his phone. “Hey, Stiles.” “y/n? What’s wrong?” He had genuine concern written on his face.

“I overheard you and Scott talking about deer-related incidents earlier,” I noticed how he tensed up at my statement, “and I was wondering if you could help me with a piece I’m writing? It seems like you know all the stats, so maybe...you could write it with me?” It pained me to finish that sentence, but I figured it might be easier to figure out what was going on if he was helping – especially if he already had inside information.

I think for the first time in his life, the talkative boy was speechless. “I understand if you don’t want to or you’re busy–” I said quickly, trying to give him a way out.

“Yeah, sure.”

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t caught off guard by his response. “W-what?”

He smirked slightly. “Yeah, sure. I’ll help you out with your article, y/n. Collaborate with you, if you will. We can work on it at my house tomorrow afternoon if you want.”

Nodding and agreeing with the plan, I left the chaotic English classroom.

The next afternoon, I felt like I was walking into the lion’s den. Going to Stiles’ house felt foreign, but what was even stranger was seeing him in casual clothes in a comfortable environment.

He answered the door wearing some sweats and a t-shirt, looking more comfortable and confident than I’d ever seen him. “Hey, y/n. Come on in,” he greeted.

I thanked him awkwardly, and we walked to his dining room table to get set up. “Sorry, I need to go grab my notes from my room. Be back in a sec,” Stiles said before leaving me alone in his dining room.

After a moment of silence, Sheriff Stilinski walked in wearing his uniform. “Oh, y/n! What are you doing here?” He had seen me a couple weeks ago in the police station when I was requesting documents for a story for the Chronicle. Though journalists and cops don’t often have a jovial relationship, he said that he liked me because of my commitment to the truth and respectful nature.

“Hey, Sheriff. I’m writing a piece about the animals acting weird, you know, with the deer accident and bird incident, and Stiles said he’d help me since he has a bunch of statistics on deer related car accidents.”

“Stiles is helping you? Well, I’ll be damned.” When he saw the confusion on my face, he rushed to explain himself. “No, not like that. It’s just, you’re all organized and focused, and Stiles is….Stiles.”

I was laughing heartily when the boy himself walked back into the room. “What’s going on, Daddy-o?”

“Nothing, son. Just catching up with y/n here. I’ve got to get to work, but you’re welcome anytime, y/n.” He said before patting Stiles on the shoulder and heading off to work.

Stiles looked over at me oddly when he placed his notes on the table and sat next to me. “Since when are you all buddy-buddy with my dad?”

Shrugging, I said, “Ever since we started grabbing beer every Thursday night while you’re at lacrosse practice.” His jaw dropped slightly, and I laughed again. “No, idiot. We’ve just interacted a lot because of my internship. Now, can we get started on the article?”

--

After the article was published, my next assignment was writing about the track meet a couple weeks later. I found out Allison and Lydia were riding together to the meet, so I tagged along.

Both girls were extremely tense the whole ride, seemingly concerned about something going on in the bus. We were only a few cars behind the bus full of track runners (and lacrosse players who were forced to attend the meet), but the stand-still traffic was a force to be reckoned with.

“Do you think we’re too close?” Allison asked.

“Honey, if you were any closer I think you’d mount the bus,” Lydia said sarcastically. She got a call from Stiles and looked over at Allison. “Hey, Stiles,” she dragged out the ‘hey,’ tension obvious in her voice.

She listened to what he was saying, something clearly wrong. “What do you mean he’s not–” she stopped when she remembered I was in the car, “healing?” She finished the question quietly, probably hoping I wouldn’t hear.

Healing? Is he injured?

“Yeah, ok, just find a way to get Coach to stop. We’ll meet you there.” She hung up and told Allison to pull off at the next stop.

When we got to the rest stop, I could see everyone hurrying to get off the bus. Allison parked the car, and we quickly went to the bathroom where I saw Scott nearly passed out on the floor. “Oh my god, is he okay?”

“Yeah, y/n. He’s fine. At least, he will be,” Stiles responded. He positioned his body in front of me a little bit as if he was trying to block my view of Scott.

I gently pushed him aside so I could see and was shocked to see black blood coming from the injured boy. “What the hell is going on? Why is his blood black?” I ran forward to get closer, kneeling next to Allison.

“It’s nothing. We just need to stitch him up and he’ll be fine.”

“Stiles, don’t fucking lie to me. I can see that he’s obviously not fine.”

“He’s right,” Allison said quietly. “We need to stitch him up. I need something to stitch him together with.” She looked around before remembering something in her bag.

I shook my head. “We need to tell Coach. Take him to a hospital or something.”

“No!” All three of them yelled at me.

It was quiet for a moment, all of us deciding where to go from here. “Just…” Stiles started, “please go and make sure the bus doesn’t leave without us. We’ll handle this.” I got up and slowly made my way to the door.

As I reached for the door, a hand grabbed my wrist. “y/n,” Stiles said, “it’ll make sense someday. Just trust us for now. Trust me,” he pleaded quietly out of earshot of the girls and Scott.

“I do,” I replied quietly, not meeting his eyes, before pulling my hand from his grasp and leaving the bathroom.

That night, we all had to stay at the Motel Glen Capri because of the postponed meet. I didn’t like its energy, and neither did Lydia. “A lot can happen in one night,” she said.

Though it was supposed to be two to a room, I convinced Coach to let me room with Allison and Lydia. Admittedly, Coach didn’t need much convincing because I was saving the school money by doing so. Once we got our room key, we went up to our room on the second floor.

“I’m going to go get a snack from the machine,” I told Lydia once Allison was in the shower.

She nodded. “Sounds good. I’m going to the lobby. There must be something we can do about these towels that reek of nicotine.”

Grabbing a couple one’s from my wallet, I made my way down the hall to the vending machine where I ran into Boyd and Stiles. As I approached, I could hear Stiles trying to talk to an unresponsive Boyd, who subsequently punched a hole through the glass of the machine, grab his snack that the machine refused to give him, and walk away.

“What the hell was that?” I asked Stiles as I walked up next to him.

He shrugged. “I don’t really know, to be honest.” He reached into the machine to grab his snack and tossed one to me as well.

When I got back to my room, a shaken Allison and Lydia were hurriedly talking about something. “Oh, y/n! You’re back. You won’t believe what just happened…” Allison started

She recounted the story of Scott’s bizarre behavior in the bathroom, and Lydia filled me in on the counter that they have at the front desk. “Can you imagine having a counter for the number of suicides that take place in your hotel? Crazy,” Lydia said. Taking her phone out, she sent a quick text to Stiles telling him that we all needed to talk.

We met him in the hallway a couple minutes later. “What was the text for?” Stiles asked when he saw our little gathering.

“There’s something going on with all the…” she looked over at me before continuing, “guys. You know, Scott, Boyd, Isaac, probably Ethan too.” I tried to connect the dots between all of them, but I didn’t really know what they all had in common. Scott and Isaac were both on the lacrosse team, but from what I could tell they didn’t have a particular fondness for each other or Ethan.

“I think someone’s going to die tonight,” Lydia said decisively.

“Why do you think that?” I asked, but it seemed like I was the only one questioning her line of reason.

She shook her head slowly. “I just...have a feeling.” After a moment of silence, she told us about hearing something from the room next to ours through the vent, so we decided to investigate it. Room 217 seemed empty and locked, but all of a sudden we heard the sound of a saw from behind the door.

Stiles busted the door open, and we opened it to find Ethan turning the saw on himself. “Ethan, stop!” I yelled as we ran into the room. Stiles started wrestling him for the saw, but luckily Lydia saw where it was plugged into the wall and unplugged it.

The next thing that happened was completely unexpected to me. Ethan grew fangs and claws, his eyes blazing red. What the fu–

Allison and Lydia rushed forward, wrestling his claws away from his torso where he had been planning on slashing himself. In the struggle he fell on the space heater, which apparently brought him out of whatever state he was in. He ran out of the room soon after. When we tried to question him about what he was doing, he couldn’t answer us. He had been out of control, and it made Allison realize we were forgetting someone.

“Where’s Scott?” She asked suddenly. When no one could answer, we all decided to split up – I’d go with Allison to look for Scott while Stiles and Lydia went to find Boyd and Isaac.

Scott wasn’t in his room. Allison and I ran all over the motel, looking in every crevice. At last, we decided to check the school bus, and that’s where we saw him. Standing drenched in gasoline, a flare lit up in his hand.

“Scott…” I approached quietly, careful to not make any sudden movements.

It was then that Stiles and Lydia joined us. I watched as Stiles walked into the gasoline, my breath catching in my throat as he nearly sacrificed himself. Scott was talking, but I didn’t really understand what it meant. He said that his life was better before the bite.

Stiles eventually talked Scott down, but the flare rolled into the gasoline. Luckily, Lydia was able to make sure we had all gotten out of the way. I’d ended up next to Stiles on the ground, and though we made eye contact, no words were spoken.

We spent the night in the bus because none of us could bear the thought of spending another second in that cursed place. Coach woke us up in the morning, definitely thinking the worst about what we may have gotten ourselves into, but whatever he was thinking wouldn’t possibly compare to reality. What was reality? I couldn’t have really told you at that point. I didn’t understand what we’d just lived through.

Before the other students started loading onto the bus, Stiles slid into the empty space next to me. “y/n, you know that all of this,” he made a grand gesture to Scott and the others as well as the motel, “is off the record. You can’t tell anyone about this. About what happened.” I held eye contact with him for a moment before nodding. “I wouldn’t tell anyone. To be honest, I don’t even really know what I would tell people, but I wouldn’t.” He nodded, a sad smile on his face as he looked down and fidgeted with his hands. “But Stiles,” I said as he looked back up at me. “Please help me understand it all. You can trust me, I promise, I just want to understand. I want to help.”

With a deep sigh, Stiles nodded once more. “Okay. I’ll tell you everything.”

--

When Stiles said he’d fill me in on everything, I didn’t realize he meant everything. I couldn’t believe how oblivious I had been to everything that had happened in the past year. Sure, I knew something weird was going on, but how was I supposed to know it was supernatural?

Finding out that my little corner of the world, little old Beacon Hills, California, had werewolves (and a kanima, pack of alphas, and whatever the hell a Darach was) was a lot to process. It was unbelievable, but Stiles helped me believe it.

I could tell that he didn’t fully trust me though. There was something in the way he looked at me that told me he was wondering when I would be done with my source acquisition and I’d write the next big exposé: Supernatural Beacon Hills: How Werewolves Have Been Hiding In Plain Sight. I didn’t know how to assure him that I was on their side and wouldn’t expose their secrets.

As the year progressed, things simultaneously made more sense and less sense. To defeat the Darach, we had to perform a sacrifice for the parents that had abducted, and Deaton – the veterinarian that had taken care of every family pet we’d ever had – told me I had to hold Stiles down during it. He said we had some sort of connection, but I guess that’s what mutual loathing does to people.

In the end, we won. We beat the Darach, the alpha of the alphas Deucalion left, and Scott became an alpha himself. But it was still just the beginning.

--

The sacrifice did something to Scott, Stiles, and Allison that we didn’t fully understand. Deaton said they left a door open, which only made it harder for Stiles to trust me because he could barely trust himself.

Knowing about the supernatural didn’t preclude my other responsibilities though. I still wrote for the Daily Beacon, much to Stiles’ displeasure, but I enjoyed it. So, on the first day of school I interviewed our newest faculty member – Mr. Yukimura. He and his family had just moved from New York, and his daughter Kira was in our grade. She was nice, but shy, so I invited her to have lunch with us.

Surprisingly, Kira jumped right into the conversation at lunch by mentioning bardo, the Buddhist concept of being in an in-between state.

After lunch, I caught up with Allison to walk to our next class. “Hey, Allison, could I ask you a favor?”

“Of course! What’s up?”

“Well, I don’t really know how to ask this but...I need help learning to defend myself, I guess? It’s just that I’m going to be helping you guys now, and I actually want to be helpful, so I want to protect myself so you guys don’t have to worry about me,” I admitted.

Allison smiled softly. “I’d love to help.” I returned her smile, suddenly giddy, yet nervous. “But, I think you should know that my...aim...has been off since the sacrifice.”

I could hear the disappointment in her voice. “Nonsense, I’m sure that you’re still the best shot in this school.” She shook her head. “It’s never been this bad.”

Touching her arm lightly, I gave her a reassuring smile. “We’ll figure it out together.”

A few days later, I was surprised when I was paid a visit by both Scott and Stiles while I was sitting in the library. “To what do I owe this pleasure, boys?”

“We need your help.” I perked up at Scott’s statement. “We’re trying to solve the Tate case, you know, the one where Malia Tate disappeared all those years ago after that car accident, and we could use your help tracking her down.” He looked over at Stiles and nudged him with his elbow.

“And, you can write a piece about it. Not including all the details, if what we think happened is true, but you can still write something factual,” Stiles said, still displeased that I was writing for the newspaper.

To annoy Stiles, I acted like I was really thinking about it for a minute, but then laughed lightly. “Yeah, I’ll help you guys. Where do we start?”

--

Pull yourself together, y/n. You’re a journalist. You’re supposed to report on tragedy all the time. Be objective.

I took a deep breath and wrote the first line for what would be the cover story of the next Daily Beacon issue.

Junior Allison Argent, 17, died in an unfortunate carjacking incident last fall.

Before I could write any more, I got a phone call from Stiles.

Oh, thank god. “Stiles?”

“Do you want to come with us to Mexico?” He blurted out.

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from my chest. “What? Mexico? Why? When–”

“Tomorrow.”

“Stiles, are you insane? Even if I wanted to, there’s no way my parents would ever let me go.”

“We’re all telling our parents we’re going camping, if that helps at all,” he said with what seemed like a hint of disappointment in his voice.

I was quiet for a minute, but my mind was already made up. “Why? And who exactly is going?”

“Scott, Lydia, Kira, Malia, and I have to visit some hunters and see what they know about Derek being missing.”

As soon as he mentioned Malia, my mouth started curling into a frown. It’s not that I disliked the werecoyote, it’s just that she and Stiles had been pretty full on since they hooked up at Eichen and started dating. I wasn’t jealous – though I’m sure Lydia would argue otherwise since she’s convinced I like him or something – just...weirded out by their relationship.

I sighed. “I want to help, but I really can’t tomorrow. School starts back up in a couple days, and I need to finish this elegy for Allison and come up with a bunch of assignments for the staff writers…” I trailed off, thinking about all that I had to do before the coming week.

“Oh yeah, I forgot. Ms. Editor-in-chief over here has a life outside of us,” Stiles joked.

Andrew graduated at the end of last year and left his glittering empire to me, though suddenly I felt overwhelmed at the prospect of running a newspaper while being way too involved in the town’s supernatural endeavors. It didn’t bother me last semester, but after Allison…

“I’ll just see you guys when you get back, okay?” I told Stiles. He made an unintelligible noise of agreement. “And try not to let anyone get killed.” “Yes, mom,” Stiles said sarcastically. I could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

When the pack got back, I was surprised by the events that had taken place. “What do you mean it’s a young version of Derek?”

A few days later, I had to cover the spring lacrosse tryouts. Though I wanted to assign it to someone else, I had to do it myself because everyone was busy with the assignments I had given them.

To my surprise, a new freshman, Liam Dunbar, showed everyone up at tryouts – even Scott. I took note of how he seemed almost athletically superior to everyone, and I wondered if he was supernatural.

“He’s human, I’m sure of it,” Scott said as he came up next to where I was sitting on the bleachers, scaring me out of my mind in the process.

“Jeez, Scott. A little warning next time would be nice. But how do you know?”

He shrugged. “I can just tell. He’s just a really great athlete.”

“He’s going to be a great pain in my ass, I can tell,” Stiles said, sidling up next to Scott.

I took note of their reactions, writing down Scott’s comment – about being a great athlete, not human – to consider while writing my piece.

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re writing a story about him,” Stiles groaned.

“You know I have to write one about the tryouts, and he just happens to be the star player of today,” I told him. “Sorry, Scott.”

Scott waved me off, but Stiles was still upset about the situation. “No, don’t give him the ego boost! He’s already a little shit, and an article about him would make it worse.”

Taking a break from my note-taking, I looked over at the brown-haired boy. “Stiles, have you even talked to him?”

He looked at a loss for words. “N-not really...but I can see his arrogance from a mile away!”

I rolled my eyes. “Well then, if you’d excuse me, I’m going to write up a fantastic story about a talented up-and-coming lacrosse player.”

The article became the next issue’s front page, but I almost wished I hadn’t given him as much attention when Scott turned him into his beta.

The rest of the year didn’t go as planned either, but isn’t junior year supposed to be everyone’s worst year?

As much as I liked helping out with the supernatural problems Scott and the rest of the pack were having, it was hard knowing about what was going on and not being able to write about it, especially when all of the mysterious killings started up. We eventually found out about the deadpool, but I could write about a kill list of Beacon Hills’ resident supernaturals, could I?

At the end of the year, I finally had to make the trip to Mexico with the rest of the pack. “Stiles, I’m going. You can’t stop me!” I attempted to open the passenger door of the jeep when he reached out and shut it from behind me.

“No, it’s going to be dangerous. We don’t even really know what we’re facing,” he tried reasoning with me. “I can protect myself,” I said, thinking of the training that Allison had given me. “Besides, I can’t just sit by and wait for you guys to come back. I need to try helping Scott.”

Realizing that I wasn’t going to back down, Stiles removed his hand from the side of the door and opened it for me. I nodded a quick thanks as I hopped into the vehicle.

I wasn’t expecting to fight Scott that day, but we all did in order to return him from his Berserker form. At the end of the fight, I had a few cuts and bruises, but nothing I couldn’t deal with.

As Derek drove away with Braedan, I could feel that things were changing. “I can’t write about any of this, can I?” I asked somewhat jokingly.

“Off the record,” Stiles replied from where he stood next to me.

--

“Stiles, what’s wrong?”

“Oh thank god, you remember me!” He said as he grabbed my hands. He’d been running down the hall frantically when I saw him.

I looked at him with concern on my face. “Yeah, of course I remember you? Why wouldn’t I–”

“y/n, it’s the Hunt. The Ghost Riders. I saw them, and now they’re coming for me.” He was breathing heavily, eyes sweeping the surroundings for signs of the Ghost Riders. His eyes locked on something to his left, but when I looked, I couldn’t see anything. “They’re here. We have to go,” he said, pulling me towards the parking lot. We got into his jeep, but he didn’t start the car. “Stiles, what are you doing?”

“It’s too late.” I could see the look of grief on his face. “No, don’t say that. It’s not–”

“It’s the truth,” he cut me off, turning to look at me. “Promise me you won’t forget.”

I shook my head. “I won’t. But Stiles, I can’t do this without you,” I could feel a tear escaping my eye and slipping down my cheek, my emotions getting the better of me.

Stiles reached forward and wiped the tear away before placing his hand on my cheek. “What do you mean? You’re one of the smartest, most inquisitive people I know. If I had to trust anyone to find a way to stop the Ghost Riders, it would be you.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his honesty. “Yeah right. Lydia will probably figure it out before me.”

He shook his head. “You can do it. I trust you.” I could tell there was more he wanted to say, but he turned to look at something through the window over his shoulder. “Can I tell you something? Off the record.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my mouth. “Yes, of course. What is it?”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t hate you. I know it may seem like I’ve never trusted you or that I don’t care about you, but it’s actually the opposite. I...really really like you,” he admitted.

I was stunned. Stiles likes me? He was searching my face for any indication of feelings as I sat there silently.

“Oh, shit,” Stiles mumbled. “Ok, forget I said that. Well, you won’t need to forget when you forget me in a minute–”

I cut off his rambling by placing my lips on his. They were warm and familiar, as if they were made for mine. “I like you too,” I mumbled when I disconnected, my eyes still closed from the interaction.

But when I opened them, I was alone in the baby blue jeep.

--

All semester, I’d felt that something was missing, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Or who it was.

But after months of searching for it, we finally figured it out. Lydia had gone into a banshee trance to discover the word “Stiles,” and it brought back vague memories for me when I heard it. The feeling of soft flannel. A sarcastic laugh. Red string around my finger. A hefty wooden baseball bat.

The collection of memories made sense when we all finally got our memories back and remembered the person we were missing from our lives.

We traced the trail of clues to the sewers, where Scott tried to bring back Stiles because of their brotherly love for one another. I thought it would work, but the portal closed and Stiles hadn’t appeared. Come on, Stiles. Where are you?

We had to fight the Ghost Riders off, making sure they didn’t turn our beloved Beacon Hills into another ghost town. I’d run into the high school, looking for something to use as a weapon when I ran into someone in the hall. A tall, brown-haired figure wearing a flannel shirt. “Stiles?”

He turned, and smiles emerged on both of our faces. I broke into a run again, right into his arms. “I can’t believe you’re here. You’re really here.” I mumbled, the sound muffled against his shirt.

“I knew you could do it,” he said.

I pulled back slightly and looked up at his face, suddenly nervous. “That night in the jeep...did you hear what I told you before you disappeared?”

A soft smile rested on his face. “Of course I did. It was the one thing that kept me going, especially when I was stuck with Peter.”

“Peter Hale? Why the hell were you with Peter Hale?”

Stiles shook his head. “We can go over that later. For now, there’s one thing I’ve been wanting to do.” I was a little confused, but I understood once he leaned in and connected our lips.

This is what I’d been missing, and I was never going to let it go again.

--

I watched from afar as Stiles gave his trusty baseball bat to Mason, who didn’t seem to appreciate the hunk of wood.

“Have you told him yet?” Lydia asked as she appeared next to me.

I shook my head. “We haven’t really had time to talk about that stuff. I think he doesn’t really want to think about it just yet and what that might mean for us.”

She nudged me with her elbow, silently telling me to go over there and talk to him. Rolling my eyes, I walked towards the familiar blue jeep and familiar mess of brown hair.

Liam and Mason had already walked away, and Scott and Stiles were standing and talking at the jeep’s trunk. “Hey, y/n. I’m just heading out, but I’ll see you guys later,” Scott said as I came up and Stiles threw his arm around me.

We waved as Scott left, and Stiles pulled me closer. “Hey,” he said, looking down at me with an affectionate expression.

I pulled him over so we could sit in the open trunk. “We need to talk.” I could see the panic flare up in his eyes.

“Oh, um, okay? Is everything okay?”

Chuckling lightly, I nodded. “Yeah, we just haven’t talked about college at all,” I explained.

His head dropped. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want it to ruin what we have here, and I don’t even know what life will be like outside of Beacon Hills, and I feel like we just got together and now–”

“Stiles,” I cut him off. “I’m going to GW too.”

His eyes widened at my confession. “You...you’re going to GW?”

I nodded, a small smile on my lips. “I committed a while ago. I’m going to study journalism there.”

I watched as a smile spread across his face. Then, it was replaced by a quick smirk. “Oh great, you’re following me there, huh? I just can’t seem to get rid of you.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? I’m going to need someone to give me the inside scoop on the FBI’s antics.”

He looked pensive for a moment. “I think what you’re describing is illegal.”

“Not if it’s in the public’s interest. But maybe it just needs to be off the record,” I admitted. Stiles laughed. “Oh, it’s definitely going to be off the record.”

[anyhao-archived]

okay i cant get the jun (and yanan) historical & fantasy c-drama idea out of my idea thanks to that one video, so i decided to basically write the plot myself since i know its never gonna happen otherwise [side eyes pledis] @ pledis give him an acting role already 

anyways!! enjoy i guess.. who knows maybe ill be hired as a script writer. also this is more like. part 1 considering where i left off lol i can write more but i was just very pleased with how this turned out. (maybe ill do part 2 if people like this enough)

in this world, there’s humans (royalty, swordsmen, peasants, etc) and magical deities (gods, goddesses, sorcerers, witches, warlocks, etc) who live together on earth. they’re in a long stretch of peace after a 100 year battle left both sides war torn and in anguish.

the peace seems to continue to stretch year after year, but recently, there’s been whispers of unrest from both sides. there also seems to be a new race walking these lands, one known for their cruelty and their attraction to evil of all kinds

jun is a minor god, leader of one of the 13 major deities clan. he is considered the god of the seasons, and he can make flowers grow with a snap of his fingers. all his disciples and those living in his clan are trained well in the art of fan dancing, and are talented with the bow and arrow.

his traditional clothing has more flow and length to it than most, due to him being a minor god. these clothes make his dancing even more beautiful. he’s got a soft spot for shiny things, and enjoys wearing jewelry on any part of his body. he keeps a magical steel fan attached to his hip, which is able to turn into any weapon he pleases, though he prefers using it as the fan, or as a bow and arrow.

jun’s basically invented the art of using his fan in battle. he attached a long slice of very sharp metal to the inside of the fan, allowing it to be extended and used like a blade. the extension of the fan from his arm makes it easier to block and knock weapons out from his enemy’s grasp. he’s currently the only one who has perfected this new style of fighting, though people come from all over to receive training from him (basically, thinking like the kiyoshi warriors from atla)

yanan belongs to the human side. a long lost prince who has only recently found his spot within royalty at the castle. he’s used to roaming the city beyond, interacting with anyone and everyone, always smiling. he liked to walk the city, following certain smells, maybe playing with some kids. but now, as a well known prince, he’s forced to stay within castle walls, banned from speaking with anyone that’s not royalty

he really just wants to people watch, but his mother – the queen – keeps a close eye on him. she even has a close personal body guard to watch his every move  and report back to her (though, he is much more loyal to yanan than he is to the queen)

he’s not really all that talented in anything battle related, but he’s one of the most intelligent men in the realm. he’s able to think his way out of any problem, and his ability to read people & their emotions rarely leads him into any situation he can’t handle

he wants to learn sword fighting, but again, his mother refuses. he’s got a personal body guard, why would he need to fight?? little does his mother know he just wants to learn how to swordfight because he thinks it looks cool lol anyway he knows how to shoot a bow and arrow, if only because he used to hunt on his own. he was alright at it, but is quite rusty now.

every year there is a peace treaty signing, signifying another year passed filled with peace. it’s a huge party, basically, with many feasts, music, magic, and plenty of competitions. it switches who holds it every year but this year the humans are in charge and hosts it at the castle. this will be the first year yanan is attending as a prince (living in the castle)

all thirteen leaders of the deities attend, usually bringing one or two of their members along. jun is included in this! this is jun’s favorite time of year, he loves all the music and the dancing that comes along with it. and he cant forget the food either

yanan really doesnt want to be there. he feels out of place, and hes bored, looking around as the leaders from across the kingdom are announced. if anything he wants to get up and roam around, but he’s required to sit in one of the thrones reserved for royalty.

he fidgets in his seat, thinking about how much he hates his new clothes for the millionth time. they’re so restricting, not to mention heavy. why does all his jewelry have to be real gold? and his cloak is some fiber he’s not even sure what it is, but it’s itchy and heavy, too.

yanan stands to escape the prententious conversations surrounding him, but is caught by his mother before he can leave. she says hes required to meet some of the important guests attending, since hes the prince now. he sighs and follows her. he’s introduced as prince yanan – though hes still unused to this name – to the leaders of neighboring countries, and the 13 deity clans. 

his eyes easily sweep over his fellow humans, but he can’t help but stare at the deity clan leaders. they’re all beautiful. each member has vibrant clothes he’s never seen, plenty of jewelry, and beautiful smiles. most of them have pointed ears like elves, or multi colored eyes. they all have different designs – painted? are they tattoos? are they magic runes? – all over their visible skin, some even have them on their faces

yanan realizes, too late, that the designs all reflect what they are the gods of. the weather, the seasons, the heavens, musicality, love, etc. he briefly wonders what magic they possess, too.

his mother clears her throat, and he looks up. he must’ve been staring. god, he’s so embarrassed. he smiles shyly and bows, eyes falling to the ground. the deities carry on their conversation, and yanan straightens up. only to make direct eye contact with the only deity staring back at him. yanan’s not sure how to react. he doesn’t have to, though, because they are all leaving, politely waving goodbye. the feast is about to begin, and then the competitions begin the next day.

the next day, he finds himself sitting in a throne. again. his mother forbid him from joining any of the competitions. he can’t take this anymore. pulling on his bodyguard’s sleeve, he tells him he’ll reward him handsomely if he distracts the queen so he can leave. the bodyguard agrees, and yanan slips out of the area unnoticed. he goes to the archery competition, intrigued. 

it ends up a near death experience. he accidentally walked out into the archery field, not knowing the layout of the castle all that well, and an arrow was coming straight for him. it would’ve hit him had a wall of vines not appeared out of nowhere, the arrow being caught in the tangle of vines

jun, the god of seasons and flora, rushes over, making sure yanan is okay. he is, just a bit shaken. he tells jun as much, and excuses himself. jun is curious about this quiet, wandering prince. 

he decides, then and there, he’s going to attach himself to that prince. as a form of apology, he reasons. it seems like he needs a friend, anyways. he begins to follow (annoy? perhaps) the prince on the castle grounds. 

he also bumps into him in the city, like what is a prince doing out here in disguise? idk but i better protect him and see what hes doing. jun isnt subtle either, he continues to try to make conversation with yanan, who shies away from any deep conversation. 

jun asked, once, why he wont talk to him and he said the queen forbid him from befriending anyone outside the castle, but especially someone who isnt human. jun decides to make yanan his friend, and yanan eventually begrudgingly accepts. soon, it’s weird not to have jun at his side. 

they become inseparable, a beautiful metaphor for the peace between the two races. but soon enough, jun is required to return home to the clans, and yanan has to stay at the castle. its heart breaking. 

they dont see each other for a while after that. evil and chaos descends on the world, pitting the races against each other again. the peace treaty is broken, and many, many lives are lost. there was a life taken from both sides, a leader of one of the 13 clans killed, and the queen, murdered. 

rumors spread, saying yanan murdered the clan leader in cold blood, in return for them killing the queen. a royal dagger was left, bloodied and out for everyone to see. it had yanan’s initials on it. 

rumors spread, saying jun killed the queen via poison from some of his foliage. guards found pieces of a foreign plant that only the jun clan can grow, poisonous to anyone that is not a deity. 

both swore they were not involved in these murders, but these seemed to be the start of an all-out war. everyone thought the others were the ones in the wrong. humans began to hate the deities, and the deities began to isolate themselves away. 

everyone blamed everyone else. but they knew better. jun and yanan knew the other would never have hurt anyone. jun grows flowers in his spare time, and yanan sneaks out of the castle to give food to the poor. neither of them have an evil bone in their body, how could they ever willingly kill someone?

but no one believed them. it’s not until countless soldiers and innocent people began to lose their lives that yanan realizes staying in the castle is doing nothing. he leaves the castle and arrives at jun’s door step, begging for his help. 

jun easily accepts, and they begin to work together. they know each other did not hurt anyone, so, who could possibly want the treaty to fail? who could frame these two into starting an all out war? jun briefly mentions the addition of a new deity clan, someone just starting out. yanan asks what kind of god are they?

and jun realizes. 

“god of chaos.”

it’s them. they’re the one who framed them, they’re the one who is causing all this tension and all these deaths. with both races busy trying to kill each other, it leaves jun and yanan by themselves to save their world from utter destruction. 

[mystic-messenger-writing]

Hi! I love your posts a lot. May I ask for a request, like a scenario or something with RFA + Unknown... Maybe like something happened and the MC lost her memory and what they'll do next or something.. idk. Thank you very much, I'll continue to support you and your post.

You’re such a sweet anonny, thank you for the kind words!! I really liked this idea so I formatted it a bit differently. Basically, the first part, before the under the cut part, is meant to be like a prologue of what happens to MC. I did it this way because I didn’t want to be repetitive, so I hope that it’s okay! I truly hope that you enjoy!! ^^

You and your lover were driving to a secluded nature reserve for a date. The two of you kept looking into each other’s eyes lovingly, it was officially your first anniversary as a couple. Your lover took one of their hands off the steering wheel of the car to take a hold of your own hand in a loving gesture. The two of you looked into each other’s eyes one more time before you heard a loud crash, the last thing you saw was the look of horror on your lover’s face before everything went dark.

“She should be waking up soon, let me know when she does.” He doctor told your very anxious lover as he headed to treat another patient.

A drunk driver hit your car that day, somehow your lover survived with only a few scratches while you were barely alive. You lover was snapped out of their thoughts when you stirred awake, they happily asked if you were alright. But your answer would haunt them for who knows how long as you said

“I’m sorry but who are you? And where am I, or rather… who am I?”

Yoosung

The second those questions left your mouth, tears streamed down Yoosung’s cheeks

“W-what do you mean? You’re MC silly!”

“M-MC? That’s me? I’m sorry but again, I don’t really remember anything.”

Yoosung used both of his hands to cover his tear-soaked face, he couldn’t believe that his own reckless driving caused you to lose your memories

“Um excuse me, but you said my name is MC, does that mean you know me? Are we friends or something? What’s your name?”

Wiping away the last of his tears, Yoosung determinedly grabbed your hand, gently rubbing the back of your palm as he said

“Yes I know you MC, I know almost everything about you! I know your favorite color, favorite type of music, even what you like on top of your pizza! Believe or not, I’m actually your boyfriend. My name’s Yoosung and I promise to tell you everything about you.”

From that moment on, Yoosung did whatever he could to help trigger your memories back in any way

He stopped playing video games and even took some time off of school in order to help with your recovery

You would only rarely get memories of your past back, making you feel discouraged but Yoosung was always there to support you

No matter what it would take, Yoosung would find a way to retrieve your memories but until then, you learned everything about yourself from your loving boyfriend

Zen

Zen holds back his tears and puts on a convincing smile that only a true actor could do

“You’re funny Jagiya, now come on, let’s tell the doctor that you’re awake and fine and go home.”

“Huh? Is ‘Jagiya’ my name or something? Do you know me or something?”

Zen’s heart was breaking at the seams, if only he had been more careful driving his motorcycle then he wouldn’t have to endure this immense feeling of guilt

But this was Zen’s mistake, he was going to help you regain your memory no matter what

“Haha no sorry, Jagiya is a nickname that I call you. Your real name is MC and you’re the most beautiful, talented, graceful, and wonderful person that I know. My name is Zen and I’m even lucky enough to call you my girlfriend.”

Your eyes lit up and a small blush spread across your cheeks to the tips of your ears as Zen noticed you suddenly became more bashful

“S-so you mean to me that I’m dating you? But you’re like, the most handsome man I’ve ever seen! I must’ve done something right to have someone like you in my life.”

There was his MC, his perfect girlfriend

Zen stayed at home with you as much as he could, showing you some small videos of you and him singing together to try and jog your memories

He’d sing you to sleep every night, making sure you were fast asleep before he let himself cry over the guilt

Zen wouldn’t rest until he helped you gain your memories back, it was his duty as your boyfriend to do so, thus began the long mission that he would fulfill someday

Jaehee

Jaehee holds her head in shame as she soon realizes how much damage she caused because of careless driving

She didn’t want to sugar-coat things, Jaehee decided at that moment on to face this problem head on since she caused it

“You’re name is MC and mine is Jaehee. You… you lost your memories because of a car crash. It’s all my fault MC, I was the only driving and caused all of this, I’m so sorry but I promise you that I’ll help you get your memories back alright?”

“You seem like such a nice person! I how that we were good friends, I’d love to have a friend just like you!”

At that moment, Jaehee realized how much it sucked being called a friend instead of a lover so she made a mental note of never calling you they again

“We’re actually girlfriends MC and I love you with all of my heart, we’re going to get your memories back together.”

“That’s good and all, but I’m more happy for the fact that we’re girlfriends! Thank you so much Jaehee, lets do this together!”

So Jaehee because your personal caretaker, trying all different kinds of techniques like brewing your favorite type of coffee to help trigger some memories back

Things weren’t easy for either one of you, there were days when the two of you just wanted to give up - But Jaehee never did, she wouldn’t stop until the day you had all of your memories back

Jumin

Jumin didn’t believe it, or rather, he didn’t want to believe the damage he had caused

He’ll always blame himself for letting you convince him drive that day, he knew he should have just been stubborn and told you no

But moping around wasn’t Jumin’s plan, he was going to fix this, he was going to get your memories back no matter the cost

“MC. That’s your name. You’re the most imaginative and kind person I know. This is all my own fault so I promise you that I’ll get your memories back.”

“Er, thank you sir. You seem like such a selfless and important man yourself so please, don’t worry about me sir.”

He felt his heart shatter, even in your state you were more worried about him then your own self

“My name’s Jumin, not sir. And you’re my girlfriend MC so no task is too big if it involves you. I will help you MC, you’ll get your memories back.”

“Alright thank you sir Jumin!”

Even with no memories, you still managed to make Jumin crack a smile

He took some time off of work to be with you and show you all kinds of photos, videos, and items to try and get your memories back

Only the best doctors were hired to help retrieve your memories and they all believed that you were truly making progress

Jumin would do anything to help you, you helped him deal with his own emotional issues, he hoped dearly that your memories would come back to you but until then, he would be there to help you every step of the way

Seven

Was Seven always going to be cursed to ruin the lives of the one’s he loved?

He hated himself so much for trying to show off his driving skills in one of his precious cars, but that was the past and Seven knew that he needed to help you

“You’re name is MC and I’m Saeyoung. We were in a car crash and it seems like you lost all of your memories. I’m so, so sorry MC, I know that you can never forgive but please let me try to show you how sorry I am!“

Seven was grasping onto your hand, his head lowered in shame as tears started cascading down his face

"Saeyoung huh… that’s a nice name! You seem to care about me a lot, thank you but you don’t have to be sorry. I’m sure it was just an accident.”

How you could be so kind and forgiving even through you had zero memories about your life is something that Seven would never understand

“Okay I’ll start right now! So you’re MC, you’re a party coordinator for a group called the RFA. We’re dating and I’m madly in love with you. You think I’m funny even though a lot of other people would disagree. And-”

“Easy now Saeyoung, lets go a little bit slower okay? Why don’t we start talking after I get released from the hospital.“

From that day on, Seven was always by your side, giving you all kinds of facts about yourself to help recover your memories

Your progress was almost non-existent and every night when Seven made sure you were fast asleep, he’d go to his own room and cry as the feeling of guilt never left

But Seven never gave up and he never would give up, not until you got your memories back so he could finally marry you at the space station

Unknown

Saeran knew that happiness never lasted long in his miserable life

His jaw clenched when you asked him those questions, why did someone as innocent and kind as you have to be the harmed and not him?

"You’re… my MC. I just- I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.”

Saeran stood up and quickly made his way to the door, not wanting to burden you any more with his presence as well as not wanting you to see him cry

“Wait! You still haven’t told me your name. Please, don’t go. I’m confused and no one else is here to see me so that must mean we know each other right?”

As much as Saeran wanted to walk right out of your life and let you be, he couldn’t

He wasn’t going to run away or be like his idiot brother and push you away, Saeran was going to get your memories back

“I’m Saeran. We were… a couple. I’m going to help you get your memories back alright? Now let’s go, I hate hospitals.”

So Saeran started taking you to familiar places, such as the ice cream shoppe and the park, to try and help recover your memories

He’d tell you stories about your past along with his own, being completely honest with every word that he said

Saeran knew that you may never get your memories back but one thing he knew for sure: he would never stop trying nor would he never stop loving you