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snowysosturn · 16 hours ago

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Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 15

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: angst, tension

Matt finishes up his shots, handing the jacket off to Chris before running a hand through his hair.

I take that as my cue, slipping my own jacket on. Just as I’m adjusting the sleeves, Matt starts walking toward me. My pulse skips slightly, but I force myself to act normal.

"Nice jacket" I say, my voice light, playful. I tug at the sleeve for emphasis. "We’re twinning."

He follows my motion, then looks back at his own. For a moment, there’s a flicker of something in his expression, something almost unreadable, before he smirks. "Yeah, guess so."

I tilt my head, raising a brow. "Trying to be me now?"

Matt huffs a short laugh, shaking his head. "Nah, this was all Chris. Maybe he wanted to show it was unisex or something, I don’t know." His tone is easygoing, dismissive, like the whole thing didn’t really matter.

Something in me sinks slightly. I don’t know what I was expecting, maybe some kind of confirmation that there was a meaning behind it. That it wasn’t just a coincidence. That he had chosen it intentionally. But I nod, forcing myself to brush it off, not wanting to read too much into it.

Before I can say anything else, Nick, who had clearly been listening, steps in. "Okay, well, since you two are basically in matching outfits, you should get some pictures together."

I blink, glancing at Matt, who looks just as thrown off by the suggestion. He hesitates for a split second, then shrugs. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"

Chris, already looking back at photos, gives an approving nod. "Yeah, that could be cool. Matt stand behind Y/n."

I swallow, suddenly more aware of the way my jacket feels against my skin, the way Matt's standing just close enough for our sleeves to almost touch. I nod, stepping forward, trying to ignore the way my heart is beating.

We start taking photos, the fading sun casting a golden hour glow over everything. We take turns, everyone gets their solo shots, duo shots in turns between the boys then some of just Chris, Matt and Nick together. There’s small moments, genuine laughter caught between shots.

At one point, Chris calls me over, gesturing for me to stand beside him. "Let’s get some together" he says, adjusting his hoodie. It would be nice for both of us to have photos together, considering how hard we've worked on this.

By the time we’re done, the sky is a deep navy blue. We huddle around, flicking through the photos. The excitement is evident, everyone’s happy with how they turned out.

Chris straightens up, stretching his arms over his head. "Alright" he announces, a grin stretching across his face. "I say we celebrate."

Nick smirks. "You just want an excuse to go drinking."

Chris shrugs. "Yeah, and?"

We all laugh, the energy still buzzing in the air as we gather our things. The beach is still calm and quiet with the sounds of distant music playing from the bars lining the shore. We make our way up to the strip and walk into a lively sports bar.

Chris makes his way over to the bar and orders a round of drinks, effortlessly charming the bartender as he waits. Meanwhile, the rest of us find a table near the open air area, where there's a light breeze.

I decide to make my way to the bar, stepping up beside Chris. “I’ll help you carry them” I offer, reaching for a couple of glasses.

He flashes me a grateful smile. “Thanks” he says, passing two drinks to me. “Man, I’m so happy with how everything turned out. The photos, the jackets, everything.”

I smirk, nudging him playfully. “Even Matt’s jacket?”

Chris raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

I roll my eyes. “Come on, don’t act clueless. His is basically identical to mine, my initial, my favorite number. You trying to make us twins or something?” I tease, though there’s an edge of curiosity in my tone.

Chris looks at me for a moment, confused. Then, with a slow shake of his head, he says, “I didn’t do that.”

My head snaps towards Chris. “What?”

“I didn’t pick Matt’s design” Chris explains, grabbing the last drink. “He sat with me when I was placing the order back in Vegas. I had already filled in everyone else’s details, but he got to choose his own.”

The words hit me like a slow motion realization, the pieces falling into place one by one.

Matt chose it himself.

The same initial. The same number. On purpose. And he played it off.

I swallow, my fingers tightening slightly around the glasses in my hand. My heart thumping in my chest. Chris is still talking, but his voice fades into the background as my mind races. I don’t even know how to feel, shocked? Conflicted? Something deeper?

Chris finally glances over at me, noticing the shift in my expression. “You good?”

I snap back to reality, forcing a small smile. “Yeah,” I lie. “Just.. taking the whole night in.”

Chris doesn’t question it, just shrugs before nodding toward the table. “Come on, let’s bring these over.”

I follow, but my mind is elsewhere.

Matt did it on purpose.

And I have no idea what that means.

As we set the drinks down on our table, I sneak a glance across at Matt. He’s leaned back in his chair, talking to Nate about something. My His jacket rests against the chair beside him, the initial and number staring back at me like some kind of silent confession.

I try my best to brush it off and we fall into easy conversation within the group. Chris and Nate get another round of drinks, sliding them across the table. The energy between us is nice, everyone is buzzing after a successful shoot and the anticipation of whatever the night might bring.

Chris grins as he leans back in his chair. “I mean, tell me that wasn’t one of the cleanest shoots we’ve ever done. No arguments, no disasters.. kinda feels wrong.”

Nate laughs. “It’s because I was there. Everything runs smoother when I’m around.”

Matt snorts, taking a sip of his drink. “Yeah, okay, let’s not rewrite history. Weren’t you the one who knocked over a whole light stand last time and blamed it on the wind?”

Nate places a hand on his chest, replying in defense. “It was the wind. A strong gust. Nature conspired against me.”

Chris shakes his head. “The only thing working against you is your own coordination.”

I laugh, settling back in my chair as the teasing continues. It’s easy like this, the kind of comfort that only comes from knowing each other for so long.

Nick pulled up some of the photos on his phone. He slides it across the table, and everyone leans in to look.

“Oh, this one’s sick” Matt says, tapping the screen. “But I feel like Y/n should’ve gotten the solo shot standing on the rocks instead of me.”

I raise an eyebrow. “So you’re admitting I would’ve done it better?”

He tilts his head, pretending to think. “Mmm, not exactly. Just saying your balance is probably better, considering I nearly fell to my death up there.”

“You tripped once.”

“And it was a near death experience.”

Nick laughs. “Guy swayed a little and saw his life flash before his eyes.”

“I felt myself falling, kid” Matt insists, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t expect you guys to understand.”

I roll my eyes, reaching over to take the phone from him. “Anyway, let’s look at other pictures before this turns into the Matt Survival Story.”

The night continues like that, joking and teasing. The drinks kept coming, round after round, and at some point, I stopped keeping track. The buzz in my head was fun, my limbs loose, and the laughter around the table made me feel nice.

Chris, clearly feeling it too, leaned forward suddenly, eyes wide with a drunken revelation. “You know what sounds unreal right now?”

Nate raised an eyebrow. “Enlighten us.”

“Churro’s.” Chris declared, as if he’d just discovered the meaning of life. “Like, really good, proper churros. There’s gotta be a spot somewhere on this strip.”

Nick laughed, swirling the last bit of his drink in his glass before setting it down with a clink. “That actually doesn’t sound like the worst idea. Wanna walk and see what’s around?”

Chris nodded enthusiastically. “Hell yeah.”

Nate stretched, already pushing himself up from his chair. “Might as well. I could go for something sweet.”

I expected Matt to get up too, but he stayed seated, nursing his drink with an unreadable expression.

Nick glanced between us before shrugging. “You guys staying?”

Matt barely looked up. “Yeah, we’re good here.”

Chris wiggled his eyebrows at us like he knew something we didn’t before nudging Nate to move. “Alright, suit yourselves. Don’t get too bored without us.”

With that, the three of them wandered off, their voices carrying over the music and street noise before fading into the night.

I leaned back in my chair, exhaling as I swirled my straw in my drink. The silence between Matt and I stretched, but for once, it wasn’t awkward. It was.. easy.

“You’re holding up well” he commented, nodding toward my glass. “Thought you’d be slurring by now.”

I smirked, tilting my head. “So you underestimated me?”

“Never” he said smoothly, a small grin forming on his lips. “I just figured you’d be the responsible one tonight.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I’m on vacation. Responsibility is not in my vocabulary right now.”

Matt raised his glass slightly, as if to toast to that. “Fair enough.”

We both took a sip, the air between us charged with this weird tension, a different tension to normal, something neither of us seemed in a rush to address.

Matt set his drink down, leaning forward slightly, his elbow resting on the table. His eyes, a little lazy from the alcohol, flickered with something unreadable.

“So, if responsibility isn’t in your vocabulary right now” he smirked, “what is?”

I smirked, continuing to swirl my straw in my glass. “Recklessness, maybe. Spontaneity.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Spontaneity, huh? That’s a dangerous game.”

I tilted my head, meeting his gaze. “Maybe I like a little danger.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “Yeah?” He leaned in slightly. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

I took a sip of my drink, letting the ice clink together. “And here I was, thinking I was predictable.”

He shook his head, studying me like he was trying to figure me out. “Not even close.”

Before I could respond, Nick’s voice cut through the moment, his energy a stark contrast to our quiet exchange.

“Guys!” he said, slightly breathless, plopping down into a chair, “we just found something way better than this place.”

Chris and Nate sat down beside him, both grinning.

“Oh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Better how?”

Nick leaned forward, excitement clear in his face. “There’s a bar at the end of the street with a full on drag show happening. It looks insane.”

Chris nodded enthusiastically. “We’re talking full performances, outfits, the whole thing. You guys down?”

I glanced at Matt, whose lips twitched into an amused smirk.

“Well” he said, looking at me, “since you’re in your spontaneity era…”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You don’t even like using the term era”

Nick grinned, slapping the table. “That’s the spirit. Let’s get out of here.”

Matt lingered at my side, as we stumbled down the strip and into bar. The place is alive, bright neon lights, a shimmering backdrop behind the stage, and a drag queen in a sequined bodysuit commanding the crowd. She’s scanning the room, mic in hand, looking for her next victims to drag onstage.

Before I even have a chance to process what’s happening, Nick’s hand clasps around mine.

“Oh no” I start, shaking my head, but it’s too late.

“You know we have to do this.” he grins, practically dragging me toward the stage.

Chris, Nate, and Matt cheer from the table, egging us on like we have a choice in the matter. I laugh, half in protest, but I already know what’s about to happen.

Nick’s been dying to perform Alter Ego ever since we watched Crystal Envy and Lexi Love lip sync to it on Drag Race. And now, here we are, center stage, spotlights on us.

The beat drops, and suddenly, Nick transforms. He throws himself into the performance, rapping along flawlessly, hyping up the crowd, while I do my best to keep up, dancing and laughing through the whole thing. The drag queen is eating it up, hyping us both as if we were seasoned performers.

By the time the song ends, we’re completely breathless, and for once I’m not embarrassed by all of the attention. The drag queen dramatically bows to us, then gestures to the bartender.

“Now that is how you commit to the bit” she says into the mic. “Drinks are on the house for these two.”

We walk back to our table, joining back with the others when a tray of free shots is handed to us.

Chris whistles from the table. “I mean, if free drinks are involved, I might have to hit the stage next.”

Matt shakes his head, chuckling as I sit down.

“You really went for it” he says, impressed.

I grab a shot from the tray, still catching my breath. “What can I say? Spontaneity, remember?”

He raises his glass, smirking. “Guess you weren’t lying.”

I clink my glass against his before throwing back the shot, the burn of alcohol mixing with the rush of the night so far.

The warmth of the alcohol spreads through my body all at once, a delayed hit that makes my head spin slightly. The mix of adrenaline from the performance and the lingering buzz leaves me feeling lightheaded. My skin is still damp with sweat, a mix from dancing under the lights and the Hawaiian heat.

I set my empty shot glass down and push back from the table. “I need some air” I mumble, mostly to myself, but Matt’s eyes flick toward me for a second before I turn away.

Stepping outside, the slight breeze feels cool against my overheated skin. I exhale, running a hand through my hair, trying to steady the rush in my head. So much has happened in just the past 24 hours. Getting my locket back, the jacket, the way he looked at me earlier, the teasing, the tension.

It was a very different side of Matt that I wasn’t used to.

I lean against the side of the building, staring down at my heels, my thoughts spinning faster than they should. Maybe I’ve been looking at this all wrong. Maybe Matt isn’t just Matt, the frustrating, teasing, sometimes unbearable guy in our group.

Maybe he’s the guy who went out of his way to do something meaningful for me. The guy who gets jealous when I give someone else my attention. The guy who’s been watching me just as much as I’ve been watching him.

And maybe he likes me. And maybe I like him too.

I heard the sound of the side door to the bar swinging open behind me, catching my attention. I turn to see Matt walking toward me.

“You good?” His voice is softer than usual, lacking its usual teasing edge.

I glance at him standing there with his hands in his pockets, watching me. The concern in his eyes is subtle, but it’s there.

“Yeah” I say, offering a small smile. “Just a bit warm. And very drunk.”

He chuckles, stepping closer. “Yeah, no shit. You and Nick just put on a whole damn concert in there.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “He’s been waiting for that moment.”

Matt smirks but then tilts his head slightly, considering me. “You wanna go for a walk on the beach or something? Might make you feel better.”

I hesitate for a second, but something about the way he’s looking at me makes it impossible to say no.

“Yeah” I say. “That sounds nice.”

We head down toward the sand, the noise from the strip fading as the waves take over and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

Matt walks beside me, hands tucked into his pockets, but there’s an ease to his posture. “So” he starts, a teasing lilt creeping back into his voice, “you gonna add karaoke connoisseur to your resume after that performance?”

I roll my eyes but laugh. “Oh, absolutely. Gonna start touring next week.”

He grins. “I’d buy tickets.”

I nudge him playfully. “You’d probably take the piss out of me the whole time.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs, biting back a smirk. “Or maybe I’d just sit front row and admire the view.”

I feel my stomach flip at his words, and suddenly the air between us feels differen again. Even more intense. My steps slow just slightly, and he matches my pace.

“You’re such a flirt” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.

Matt smirks. “And yet, you’re still walking with me.”

I shake my head, trying not to smile, but I know he sees right through me. The alcohol has made me bold, but maybe it’s not just the drinks. Maybe it’s him.

We keep walking, the conversation flowing like we never hated each other. Playful. Teasing.

I laugh at something he says, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous.”

He grins, nudging me lightly with his shoulder. “And yet, you love it.”

I roll my eyes but don’t deny it. Before I can think of a comeback, my heel suddenly sinks too deep into the sand, throwing me off balance. I stumble to the side, my hands instinctively reaching out.

Matt reacts fast, catching me before I fall to the ground. One arm wraps firmly around my waist, steadying me, while the other grips my hand. The warmth of his touch against me sends a jolt through me, and I realize just how close we are, his face only inches from mine, his breath grazing over my cheek.

“Damn” he laughs, holding me upright. “You good?”

I grip his forearm, steadying myself. “Yeah, just, heels and sand? Not a great mix" I say, trying to play it cool. "And to think you were suggesting that I should’ve been up on the rocks earlier.”

Matt smirks, but instead of saying anything witty back, he suddenly crouches down in front of me.

I blink. “What are you-”

“Relax” he murmurs, fingers already working at the straps of my heels. “You’re gonna break an ankle trying to walk in these out here We don't need any more ankle problems.”

I open my mouth to argue, but the way he carefully unbuckles each strap, sliding the shoes off my feet like it’s the most natural thing in the world, has my brain rewiring itself.

Once he’s done, he stands, holding my heels in one hand. “There. Now you won’t have an excuse to fall into my arms again.”

I cross my arms, scoffing at him. “I didn’t mean to fall into your arms.”

Matt tilts his head, that signature smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”

I narrow my eyes. “You’re so full of yourself.”

He grins. “And yet, you’re still walking with me.”

I bite my lip to keep from smiling too much, but I know he sees it. He always does. I bump my shoulder against his playfully. “You know, you don’t have to carry my shoes. I am capable of holding things.”

He smirks. “Yeah, but then what excuse would I have to be a gentleman?”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Oh, so you’re a gentleman now?”

Matt raises an eyebrow, stopping in his tracks.

“I mean” he says, looking down at me, “I did just save you from eating sand. That’s got to count for something.”

I glance up at him, my heart racing, but I play it cool. “Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe I let myself fall on purpose.” I say sarcastically.

His lips curve into a slow, knowing smirk. “Oh yeah? You wanted me to catch you?”

I roll my eyes dramatically. “Don’t flatter yourself, Sturniolo.”

“Oh, so we’re using last names now?” He steps closer to me. “Careful, that’s dangerously close to flirting.”

“Please, if I was flirting, you’d know it.”

“Would I?”

I exhale, feeling my stomach flip. He’s so damn cocky, but I can’t even pretend I don’t love it.

I tilt my chin up defiantly, a slow grin spreading across my lips. “Mhm.”

My heart is racing. I can feel the alcohol in my veins, but this, this moment, is all me. No liquid courage, no overthinking. Just me and him.

I step closer, tilting my head slightly, my body moving on instinct. My mind is made up. I want to close the distance. I want him.

I lean in.

But just as my lips are about to brush his, Matt turns his head.

“We should head back.” His voice is quiet, almost strained.

I freeze.

The rejection slaps me across the face. I pull back quickly, my face heating in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol.

I swallow hard, forcing a nod. “Yeah.. yeah, okay.”

Matt shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. His usual cocky demeanor is gone, replaced by something I can’t quite read. Guilt? Hesitation?

I don’t wait to figure it out. I turn on my heel and start walking back toward the bar, my arms crossed tightly over my chest.

My stomach twists uncomfortably. How did I get it so wrong? The way he looked at me, the way he held my waist, the way he played into everything, was it just in my head?

I don’t know.

But what I do know is that I just made a move.. and Matt Sturniolo didn’t want me back.

a/n : i would run into the ocean and never return if i got rejected like that

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#snowy speaks #fire & desire #snowys sturniolo series #snowys series #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #enemies to lovers #matt sturniolo fanfic

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imjustatorturedpoet · 3 days ago

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Meet me in the Hallway

chapter 7: I remember now.

Pairing: Hwang In-ho x Reader

also available on ao3💘

word count: 6.1k

————

”Lights out in ten minutes. Please prepare for bedtime."

The announcer’s voice echoed through the dormitory, artificial and indifferent.

Your group moved with quiet urgency, working together to execute Gi-hun’s plan. The idea was simple—cluster the beds together to create a barricaded sleeping area, a makeshift shelter beneath the bunks where mattresses could be laid out on the floor. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than being exposed.

There was an unspoken understanding between you all—this wasn’t just about comfort. It was about survival.

Dae-ho, Jung-bae and Young-il handled the heavier lifting, dragging the mattresses around.

Others were watching. Observing. You could feel it. Some players had already claimed their spots in isolated corners, eyeing the way your group worked with something between curiosity and calculation.

Meanwhile, you and Jun-hee gathered pillows and blankets, tossing them onto the newly formed sleeping space. You weren’t just setting up beds—you were creating a stronghold. A space where no one could slip in unnoticed. Hopefully.

Jung-bae exhaled loudly, adjusting one of the mattresses with a skeptical glance. "Is this really necessary? I don’t like sleeping under there."

Gi-hun didn’t hesitate. "Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us."

Dae-ho crouched beside Jun-hee. "What? Who?"

Young-il approached, wordlessly extending his hands to help you move the stuff around. You should have ignored him. Pretended not to notice. Pretended you were too busy, too focused, too anything to acknowledge him. But you weren’t rude.

Even if you wanted to be. At least, not to him.

Your fingers twitched around the fabric in your grasp, the weight of his presence pressing against your senses like an unwelcome reminder. You had barely spoken since dinner. Since the vote. Since the moment his name had been paired with a word you weren’t prepared for. Wife.

The thought still sat heavy in your chest, thick and cloying.

You weren’t stupid. You weren’t naïve. You knew what kind of man he was. Controlled. Always a step ahead. He could say so much without saying anything at all. And yet, earlier, when that word had slipped into the conversation, he hadn’t said much of anything at all.

And that was what bothered you most.

Not the fact that he was married—okay, maybe that did bother you a lot—but the fact that when Gi-hun said it, Young-il hesitated. Froze. And looked at you.

Like there was something he wanted to explain but didn’t.

Like he had expected something from you.

And that was dangerous.

Because what the hell was he expecting? And more importantly—why did you care? You only met him yesterday.

Right?

It should have felt that way, but it didn’t. There was something about him—something that lingered just beneath the surface, threading through your thoughts like an old memory you couldn’t quite grasp. Like a name on the tip of your tongue, just out of reach.

And if you had met him before, if he really was the man from the rain—then why was he acting like you were strangers?

You clenched your jaw, shoving the thoughts down as you forced yourself to move.

Without a word, you handed him a blanket. Your fingers brushed his for half a second longer than necessary, and you swore you felt the slight shift in his posture, the way his grip adjusted just a little too slow.

You ignored it. You had to ignore it.

Because if you didn’t, you’d start thinking about the way he looked at you across the dormitory earlier. Or the way his hand had rested on your thigh at dinner. Or the way his voice dropped when he spoke to you alone, low and deliberate, like he wasn’t just speaking—he was choosing.

And you couldn’t do that.

So, instead, you exhaled sharply, turned away, and pretended that handing him that blanket hadn’t felt like handing him something much heavier.

Gi-hun continued, his voice steady but firm. "The prize money still goes up if we kill each other. It’s part of the game they designed."

Young-il, after positioning the last mattress beneath one of the bunks, finally spoke. "Gi-hun, I think you’re overreacting. Even if that were true, people wouldn’t do that."

The shift in the room was immediate.

Gi-hun’s head snapped toward Young-il, his gaze was full of hurt and anger. "In the previous games, dozens of people killed each other at night. Right here."

He stepped closer, his posture rigid. "You have no idea how people can change in this place."

Silence stretched between them.

Young-il didn’t flinch, but something unreadable flickered in his expression. Then, after a beat, he inclined his head in a slow, measured nod. "Alright. I guess I didn’t know what I was talking about. I’m sorry."

The words came easily, too easily. You weren’t sure if he meant them or if he simply didn’t see the point in arguing.

Gi-hun studied him for a moment longer before finally shifting his focus back to the group.

"We need to take turns keeping watch after lights-out. I’ll take the first watch. You should decide the order for the rest."

——

September 6th. The day the world ended. Not for everyone—just for you.

The speckled linoleum stretched endlessly beneath you, tiny cracks splitting across its surface like fault lines. You traced them with your eyes, again and again, mapping their paths like they meant something, like they were trying to tell you a story. But there was no story. No meaning. No reason.

The hallway was silent. Not the kind of silence that came with peace, but the heavy, suffocating kind. The kind that swallowed you whole, that pressed against your ribs until it hurt to breathe.

The machines had stopped beeping. The nurses had stopped moving. The world had stopped making sense.

Jonah was gone.

You thought maybe if you didn’t move, if you sat still enough, you could pretend it wasn’t real. If you kept your hands in your lap, fingers curled so tightly into the fabric of your jeans that your knuckles ached, then maybe you could keep yourself from shattering. Maybe you could stop time. Maybe you could pull him back.

But you couldn't.

Because the machines had stopped beeping. Because the nurses had stopped moving. Because the world had stopped making sense.

Now you were truly and utterly alone.

Your body didn’t feel like yours. It was too heavy, too empty, too cold. Your arms felt like they weren’t connected to you, your legs stiff and numb. You weren’t crying. You weren’t breathing. You weren’t anything.

You just sat there. Frozen. Hollow.

Somewhere, a clock ticked. A door opened. Someone whispered. The world kept moving.

Didn’t they know? Didn’t they realise?

Everything should have stopped. The walls should have cracked, the ceiling should have caved in, the earth itself should have split apart. The sun should have burned out. The sky should have fallen. Something. Anything.

But it didn’t. People were still walking. Talking. Breathing.

And Jonah wasn’t.

Your stomach clenched.

That wasn’t right. That wasn’t fair.

He was supposed to be here. He was supposed to be laughing, teasing, rolling his eyes at you. He was supposed to be alive.

But the machines had stopped beeping. The nurses had stopped moving. The world had stopped making sense.

A buzzing sound curled at the edges of your mind, dull and persistent. Your ears were ringing. Or maybe that was just your brain, trying to drown out the truth. Trying to drown out the nothingness swallowing you whole.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to sob. Because all the love you had for your brother was clawing at your chest trying to get out. You loved him so much. You still do. Where are you going to put it now?

You also wanted to rip the stupid linoleum tiles off the floor, to claw your nails into the cracks until they bled, to make the world feel the way you did—broken, jagged, wrong.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t. So you just sat there. Alone.

And the world kept turning. Your fingers twitched, but they didn’t feel like yours. Your skin was ice cold, just like his now. You wanted to do something—anything—but you couldn’t.

Because if you moved, if you let the weight settle fully, you might shatter.

You didn’t know how long you sat there. Time had lost its meaning. It stretched and folded in on itself, minutes bleeding into hours, into nothingness.

Then you heard it. At first, it was distant. A sound curling at the edges of your awareness, fragile, barely there. But then it sharpened. Louder. Raw. Broken.

A sob, choked and gasping. Then another. And another.

It clawed its way through the heavy quiet, through the walls you had built around yourself.

Your breath hitched. You knew that sound.

It was the same one crawling up your throat, pressing against your ribs, desperate to escape. The one you wouldn’t let out. The one you didn’t want to. Because you knew once it was out, it would never stop.

Your head lifted, your gaze pulling away from the lifeless floor for the first time.

And then you saw him. Sitting on a bench at the far end of the hall, elbows braced on his knees, head bowed low. His body curled in on itself, his fingers digging into his skull like he wanted to rip something out.

The man from the rain. Young-il?

You didn’t know how you knew—it was just instinct. Recognition without reason. Like something deep inside you had already decided before your mind could catch up.

For a moment, he didn’t see you. Then—he lifted his head. And your eyes met. Something in your chest cracked, sharp and sudden. A hollow ache you didn’t have a name for.

You didn’t know why you moved. Maybe instinct. Maybe something else.

You pushed yourself to your feet, your legs shaky, unsteady. He watched you as you walked toward him. He didn’t tense. Didn’t flinch. Just sat there, his gaze flickering between you and the floor.

You hesitated when you reached him. Too close. Not close enough.

Without thinking, you sat beside him. Neither of you spoke.

The hallway was quiet except for the distant hum of fluorescent lights, the muffled voices of nurses in another room. The world kept moving. It always did.

A sharp, shaky exhale. A sound caught between a sigh and a sob.

"She’s gone."

His voice was barely above a whisper, hoarse and hollow.

You didn’t ask who. You didn’t need to. You already knew.

"So is he," you murmured.

He didn’t respond. Didn’t move. But something in the space between you shifted, heavier, thicker.

You didn’t tell him you were sorry. You didn’t tell him it would be okay. Because it wouldn’t. Because words were meaningless here. Instead, you reached into your pocket.

Pulled out a cigarette. Held it out to him without a word. He looked at it. Then at you. Then back at it. And then, finally, he took it.

You pulled out your lighter, flicked it open, let the flame dance between you. He leaned in, letting the fire catch, the orange glow casting flickering shadows across his face.

For the first time, you really looked at him.

The exhaustion was carved into his features, deeper than just a sleepless night. His shoulders were hunched, his jaw tense, his fingers trembling ever so slightly as he brought the cigarette to his lips. But he was still beautiful. In a cruel way.

You exhaled, lighting your own, taking a slow drag. The two of you sat like that, side by side, smoke curling around you in quiet spirals.

Strangers. But not alone. After a while, he spoke.

“You asked for my name.”

You exhaled, watching the smoke drift toward the ceiling.

"Does it matter?”

The faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Barely there. But there.

"No. Guess not."

The silence stretched again, but this time, it wasn’t suffocating. It just was. You didn’t know how long you sat there. Maybe minutes. Maybe hours. But eventually, your cigarette burned down to the filter, the ember flickering out.

But you still sat there. Till he ran out of tears.

You stood first. He didn’t stop you.

You took a few steps toward the door before pausing, glancing back over your shoulder.

He was still there. Watching.

Your lips curved, just slightly. Not quite a smile, but the closest thing to one you had in you.

And he nodded. Like he understood. Like he had always understood.

——

Your eyes snapped open, your chest heaving, lungs pulling in air too fast, too shallow.

The ceiling above you blurred in the dim light of the piggy bank, your pulse pounding in your ears.

You turned your head, struggling to piece together where you were—what was real. The steel bed frames above you, the concrete walls, the distant sounds of breathing. The dormitory. The games.

A nightmare. But not really. More like a bad memory, finally breaking through the thick walls your brain had built to keep it out.

Your brain does that—it buries things, tucks them away in the darkest corners, convincing you they never existed. Just so you wouldn’t hurt anymore. But now, the barriers had crumbled, and the truth stood bare. You remembered.

You looked at the makeshift bed to your left, but it was empty. Glancing at the stairs, you saw that Young-il was taking watch.

Your stomach twisted painfully, like you were going to puke. You pushed yourself up slowly, careful not to disturb Jun-hee beside you. The cold floor bit into your palms as you steadied yourself.

Young-il’s eyes scanned the room with quiet vigilance. The light cast shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more unreadable. Detached.

But you knew now. You knew. Finally.

Before you even processed what you were doing, you moved. Crawling out from under the bed, you crossed the small space between you. He didn’t react when you sat down beside him, only his eyes flickered to you for a moment.

For a long moment, you said nothing.

The weight of it sat in your chest, pressing down, making it hard to breathe. You stared at your hands, your fingers twisting together in your lap.

Then, finally, your voice came—soft. Unsteady.

"Why did you lie?"

Young-il stilled. A pause. Now, he looked at you.

You swallowed, your throat tight. “I remember now.” The words came out quieter than you intended, almost fragile.

Young-il didn’t look away. His dark eyes studied yours, with a hint of regret. For a second, you thought he might pretend not to know what you were talking about, might brush it off the way he always did. But he didn’t. He exhaled slowly, a breath that barely made a sound. “I know.”

You blinked. That was it? No denial? No feigned confusion?

Your fingers curled against your knees. The memory was still raw, still bleeding at the edges. Jonah, lifeless in that hospital room. The cigarette smoke curling in the dim hallway. The way the man from the rain—no, Young-il—had sat there, just as lost, just as broken.

"You knew who I was this whole time," you whispered. He didn’t answer.

I wasn’t imagining things.

Your chest ached, something sharp and tangled clawing its way up your throat. “And you—” Your breath caught. You weren’t sure which hurt more: the fact that he had remembered you and still chose to lie, or the fact that, for a while, you had believed him.

Young-il’s gaze flickered downward, toward his hands. He rolled his knuckles absently, like he was testing the weight of the silence between you. Then, finally, he spoke. “I thought it would be easier that way.”

Easier? You let out a bitter, hollow laugh, shaking your head. “Easier for who?”

He didn’t answer right away. His jaw twitched, his eyes flicking back to you. And this time, for the first time since you’d met him, there was no smirk, no teasing remark, no shield of indifference. Just something quiet. Something almost… resigned.

“For both of us,” he murmured. You stared at him, the breath hitching in your throat.

Easier. Like it was some kindness. Like pretending he didn’t remember wouldn’t make it worse when the truth came crashing down. Like there wasn’t a big hole inside your chest. You clenched your jaw, looking away, focusing on the cold concrete beneath you.

“That’s bullshit,” you muttered, barely above a whisper.

Young-il sighed, tilting his head back against the metal railing. The exhaustion was etched into every inch of him now, but you didn’t care. You weren’t going to let him off that easily.

“I needed to know,” you said, forcing the words out before you lost your nerve. “I needed to know if I was crazy. If I was just seeing things. If—” You exhaled sharply. “If you were real.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating.

Young-il exhaled and looked away, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly.

“You were real to me too, you know.”

And just like that, you weren’t sure if you wanted to hit him or let yourself fall apart right there beside him. The silence between you stretched for a moment before he spoke. “I’m sorry.”

You raised your eyebrows. “About what?”

He clarified. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about her sooner.”

You already connected the dots, but you still let him speak of her. He needed this. And you secretly did too.

“She was very sick,” he said. His voice was calm but carried a weight that made you hold your breath. His eyes fixed on the ground as he continued, “Acute cirrhosis. She needed a liver transplant, but she was pregnant.”

Your eyes widened, and your face fell as his words sank in. He kept going, his tone growing heavier. “When the doctor warned her about the risks and advised ending the pregnancy, she wouldn’t hear it. She was resolute. determined to carry the baby, no matter what would happen to her.”

You stayed silent, letting his words wash over you, as he went on. “When she felt worse everyday and no donor appeared, I borrowed as much money as I could from my brother to find a solution. But it was not enough.”

You turned your gaze away, unsure what to say. His voice softened but didn’t lose its seriousness. “I was desperate. A criminal heard about my situation and offered me money. I borrowed from him. But when you’re a police officer, that kind of stuff will get you fired. But I didn’t care. She needed it. My boss, however, saw it as a bribe. He fired me the next day. I’d devoted my whole life to that job. It was one of the few things I truly enjoyed, truly loved doing.”

You frowned deeply, feeling an ache in your chest for him.

“Then I was invited to join the games,” he said, his voice dropping even lower. “I was gone for a week. As you probably noticed, in the hospital. By the time I won…she was dead.”

That’s when you noticed his eyes, glistening with tears. They silently fell, the weight of them was undeniable.

“It was horrible. There were so many times I became angry. Angry at my boss. Angry at those who didn’t step up to donate a liver. Angry at the world. But I was mostly angry at myself for leaving her when she needed me the most. That evening with you in the hospital… I wasn’t angry then.”

The room felt heavier with every word he spoke. You listened intently, unable to look away as he continued.

He exhaled deeply, his shoulders slumping slightly. “And now, I have decided to come back. Because the last time I was here I felt useful for once.”

The tears in his eyes and on his cheek caught the dim light, making them shimmer as he gave a single, solemn nod.

His voice was steady but carried a note of vulnerability. “I didn’t- I couldn’t tell Gi-hun. Couldn’t tell anyone actually. Except you. Talking about her is really hard for me. But, with you it seems natural in some way.”

He took a deep breath.

”All I wanted was to play these games and… find the slightest bit of purpose in life. Even if it was the last thing I did.”

Suddenly, all the anger you had felt towards him the last few hours had completely vanished.

He was just a broken soul. Like you.

“And I think I found it again. I mean- what were the odds?”

Oh my god. Did he mean me?

You swallowed. Then, softly—almost too softly—you answered. "Better than you think."

You stared at him, at the way his hands curled into fists against his knees like he was bracing for something. The space between you felt heavier than before, like it was holding something fragile, something unsaid.

Then, before you could think about it, before doubt could creep in, you moved.

Not just a brush of fingers. Not just a hesitant touch. You reached for him fully.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his jumpsuit as you pulled him in, holding on like he was the only solid thing in a world that kept shifting beneath your feet. Like letting go wasn’t an option.

And for a second, he didn’t react.

He stiffened—caught off guard, unprepared. For a single, agonising second, he didn’t move. You almost thought he wouldn’t.

Then, he exhaled fully. Like he let go. Slowly, his arms came up. His hands pressed against your back, hesitant at first, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you. If he should.

But then something broke.

He tightened his grip, pulling you flush against him, his chin resting near your shoulder, his breath uneven against your neck. His fingers curled into the back of your shirt, not rough, not desperate—just there, like he needed something to hold onto just as badly as you did.

Neither of you spoke.

The dormitory around you disappeared, swallowed by the sound of your own heartbeat, by the way his breathing evened out against your shoulder. His warmth bled into you, steady, grounding, like an anchor in the middle of something vast and merciless.

His fingers curled around the fabric of your shirt. The message was clear, don’t let go.

You exhaled, barely above a whisper. “I get it.”

Young-il let out a soft, humourless laugh, the vibration of it sinking into your skin. “Oh, I bet you do.”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

And you did.

Not just because of Jonah. Not just because you knew what it was like to lose someone who was supposed to be there forever. But because you understood the hollow space grief left behind. How sometimes, survival wasn’t about living. Sometimes, it was about finding something—anything—that kept you moving. Even if it didn’t make sense. Even if it killed you a little more every day.

Young-il buried his face in your soft hair and inhaled deeply, rolling his shoulders like he was trying to shake something off. But he didn’t let go. Not yet.

“When I saw you here…” His voice was quieter now, lower, almost lost between you. “I thought I was imagining things.”

You swallowed. “Me too.”

He huffed out a breath, shaking his head. “I wasn’t sure if it was a coincidence. Or if it meant something.”

A long silence stretched between you. Then, softly, you said, “It means something. And… I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. If I had known—”

Young-il stilled. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too.”

You felt him exhale again, his breath ghosting against your neck. His grip on you loosened, just slightly, like he was grounding himself. Then, finally—reluctantly—he pulled back.

Not all the way. Not far. His hands lingered at your waist, your arms still loosely looped around his shoulders. His face was close now, closer than it should have been, his eyes searching yours for something unspoken.

You weren’t sure if he found it. But he nodded. Like he understood. Like he had always understood.

You pulled back fully and moved to sit beside him. But his hand remained on your waist. Like it belong there. It felt like that, at least.

The silence between you wasn’t heavy anymore—it just was. Steady. Quiet. A fragile sort of peace.

You pulled your knees to your chest, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. His face was unreadable, but his shoulders were no longer tense, his breathing even. He looked… tired. More than tired. Exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with the games.

Eventually, you let your head tip to the side, resting against his shoulder. You expected him to shift away, but he didn’t. He just stayed there, solid and warm.

Minutes passed like that, the two of you sitting together in the dim glow of the piggy bank. The distant sound of steady breathing filled the dormitory, the world outside this moment fading into something far away.

For the first time since arriving here, you didn’t feel entirely alone.

As your head rested against Young-il’s shoulder, the exhaustion finally started catching up with you. Your body, tense for so long, slowly began to relax against him, the warmth of his presence lulling you into something close to rest. Not quite sleep—but something softer. Something quieter.

A small noise from behind you made you stir. You pulled back from Young-il. The absence of his warmth made you shiver slightly, but you ignored it, pushing yourself upright.

Dae-ho. You barely noticed him at first, still caught in the haze of half-awareness, but when you finally blinked, you saw him standing a few feet away, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

His gaze flickered between the two of you, something unreadable flashing across his face before he exhaled and stretched his arms above his head.

“My turn?” he asked, voice rough with sleep.

Young-il nodded. You both stood up and made some space for 388. Dae-ho settled into the spot where Young-il had been, shifting his weight as he adjusted to the watch position.

“You should both try to get some sleep,” Dae-ho muttered, his usual easygoing tone softened by the quiet of the room.

Young-il hummed in response, offering you a hand. You hesitated for a fraction of a second before taking it. Neither of you spoke as you padded back toward your sleeping area, careful not to disturb the others.

When you reached your beds—placed right next to each other—you both hesitated.

For a moment, the only thing that existed was the space between you. The unspoken understanding hanging in the air, thick and palpable. Then, at the exact same time, you both moved.

Neither of you said a word. You just pushed your mattress toward his. He mirrored the action, closing the distance until there was no gap left. Until it was just one space instead of two.

It wasn’t about comfort. It wasn’t about warmth. It was about not being alone.

You settled in first, pulling the thin blanket over your shoulders as you lay on your side, facing him. Young-il followed suit, his movements slower, more deliberate.

In the dim light, your eyes met. No words. Just a glance. Just a silent agreement.

You exhaled, closing your eyes. You felt Young-il shift slightly beside you, the faintest rustle of fabric as he adjusted, and then stillness.

For the first time in a long time, your mind wasn’t plagued by nightmares.

——

You barely noticed it.

Your body was warm, your mind floating somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, caught in that hazy space where the world didn’t quite feel real yet. The concrete floor beneath the thin mattress should’ve been uncomfortable, but it wasn’t. Not really. Not when there was warmth pressed against your back, solid and steady.

Not when there was an arm draped over your waist.

Your breath hitched, the realisation hitting all at once. Your body stiffened. The weight of it was undeniable—the firm press of muscle through the thin fabric of your uniform, the slow, even rise and fall of his chest against your back.

Young-il.

A slow warmth crept up your neck. You swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of every inch of where your bodies touched. His arm wasn’t just resting against you—it was holding you. Not tight, not restricting, but there. His hand was relaxed against your stomach, fingers curled loosely into the fabric of your uniform.

You should move. You should wake him up. You should do something.

But you didn’t. It felt too nice, too right.

You stayed still, barely daring to breathe, your mind racing through the events of last night. The weight of his grief. The way his voice had cracked when he spoke of his wife. The way you had pressed yourself against him in that desperate, suffocating hug, needing him to hold you together just as much as he needed you.

And then, the mattresses.

The quiet, unspoken decision. The way neither of you hesitated when you pushed them together, filling the space between them, letting your bodies rest closer than they should. You hadn’t thought about what that meant last night—hadn’t let yourself.

Now, in the dim morning light, with Young-il’s arm wrapped around you, you couldn’t ignore it.

A slow inhale. A shift. His breath stirred against the back of your neck—barely there, but enough. Enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Then, a pause. A slow tensing of his body. He was waking up.

Your heart slammed against your ribs, squeezing your eyes shut, pretending to be still asleep.

For a second, neither of you moved. His breathing slowed, like he was processing what he was feeling. Then, you felt it—the tightening of his grip, his fingers twitching slightly against your uniform like he was anchoring himself, pulling you closer to his chest.

The warmth of him seeped into you, steady and grounding, his presence a solid weight against your back. You could hear the slow, even rhythm of his breathing, feel the faint rise and fall of his chest as it pressed against you with every inhale.

It should’ve been suffocating. It should’ve been uncomfortable. But it wasn’t.

You stayed still, barely daring to breathe, unsure if you even wanted to move.

Young-il’s arm was firm. There was no hesitation, no awareness of the line you had crossed last night when you’d pushed your mattresses together. Just quiet, instinctive closeness.

You weren’t sure how much time passed like that. A few minutes? An hour? It didn’t matter. Because for those few stolen moments, you weren’t in the dormitory. You weren’t in the games. You weren’t fighting for your life. You were just warm.

Then, the music started.

That familiar, eerie swell of classical strings echoed through the dormitory, signalling morning, pulling you both out of the fragile cocoon of sleep.

You felt the shift before anything else. The tensing of Young-il’s body. The slow, dawning realisation sinking into him like a stone. His breath hitched, and then his arm moved. Fast.

He withdrew from you like he’d been burned, fingers jerking away from your waist as he shifted back onto his side of the mattress. You felt the absence immediately—the cold rushing in where his warmth had been. For a moment, neither of you moved. You opened one of your eyes, hoping he wasn’t looking at you, to see what he was doing.

From the corner of your eye, you caught it—Young-il rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze flickering anywhere but at you. He looked flustered.

You almost laughed.

But instead, you waited. Just a second longer. Then you stretched, exhaling like you had just woken up, rolling onto your back and blinking blearily at the ceiling.

You made a sleepy sound of protest at the music, rubbing your eyes before glancing at him. “Morning already?” you muttered, voice groggy.

Young-il cleared his throat, sitting up fully. “Yeah,” he said, voice a little rough.

God, his morning voice was sexy.

You didn’t mention the waist-situation. Didn’t acknowledge the way his arm had been wrapped around you, the way his body had been pressed against yours. And neither did he.

But when you sat up beside him, feeling the ghost of his warmth still clinging to your skin, you swore you could feel the weight of something else, too. Something unspoken.

Around you, players began to stir, and the familiar voice of the announcer filled the dormitory:

“The third game will begin momentarily. All players, please prepare.”

You stretched, exhaling a quiet groan as the weight of sleep clung stubbornly to your limbs. The dormitory stirred around you—murmurs of waking players, the rustle of blankets, the low, grating snore of Dae-ho still lost in whatever dream he was still having. Jung-bae shifted nearby, Jun-hee rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Next to you, Young-il sat still, watching. His expression was unreadable at first, but then—there. A small, amused smile.

“Sorry,” he murmured, voice lazy, playful. “Didn’t mean to stare.”

You blinked at him, catching on immediately. Tease.

With a roll of your eyes, you pushed yourself up, shaking off the lingering fog of sleep as you followed the others toward the centre of the dormitory. The room was cold, your movements sluggish as your mind struggled to fully catch up. You were walking along side Gi-hun as you tumbled a little bit.

Then—warmth. A touch. Steady, deliberate. Fingers curled around your waist, stopping you mid-step.

Your breath caught, your body tensing on instinct. But before you could react, Young-il was already there, closer than before, his hand firm at the dip of your waist. He pulled you closer into him. Like it was nothing. Like it was natural.

“You walk like you’re still stuck in your dream,” he murmured, voice dipping lower, amusement threading through it. “Thought you were gonna run into me.”

Your skin burned where he touched you. His thumb pressed slightly against your hip, the motion slow, absentminded, like he wasn’t even thinking about it. But you were.

You exhaled sharply, smirking up at him. “So instead of moving, you just—grab me?”

Young-il smirked. “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

Your lips parted, but no retort came. Because he was right. And you hated that.

His smirk deepened, like he could hear every thought running through your head, like he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on you. And then, just as easily as he touched you, he let go, stepping past you without another word.

Leaving you standing there, fully awake now, pulse hammering against your ribs, his warmth still ghosting over your skin. You exhaled, steadying yourself before moving forward, ignoring the way your body still buzzed in the wake of him.

The guards herded you through the dormitory doors, leading you into the labyrinth of the massive staircases. With every step, the tension in your chest coiled tighter. Another game. Another chance to live or die.

The uncertainty was suffocating. What if it was something unfamiliar again? What if you weren’t good at it? Worse—what if it was a game that turned you against the very people you had come to rely on? The thought sent a sharp pulse of unease through you.

Eventually, you were guided into a large room, the path ahead obscured by a heavy white curtain. Four triangle-masked guards stood at the forefront, weapons gripped tightly, their presence a silent warning. The crowd stilled, uneasy whispers fading into tense silence.

The curtain began to slide open.

The announcer’s voice rang out, calm and detached, cutting through the stillness like a blade.

"Welcome to your third game."

#hwang inho x reader #squid game #squid game fanfiction #ao3 #hwang inho #lee byung hun #ao3 fanfic #fluff #gi hun squid game #hwang in ho

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nayaacknndy · 3 days ago

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"as long as i'm here, no one can hurt you."

The sound of the keyboard echoed in the quiet room, the light from the laptop illuminated the face of the man in his late thirties in that dimly lit room, the glasses provided a reflection of the screen as he did the rest of his work, The silence of the night was deafening, but it made his hearing senses sound clearer to be alert.

A sound of the door creaking was heard, making him turn towards the source of the sound, thinking it was his wife, but it turned out to be just their cat, it meowed softly, approached him and climbed onto his table.

"There, buddy." He stroked its head, making the cat purr, but soon after, the cat meowed, looking at him with its gray eyes.

Leon didn't really understand or realize that look, until he heard the sound of breaking glass, making him jolted and immediately rushed out of his study, ran down the stairs in a hurry, and saw her there, his wife, one hand gripping the edge of the table, and the other touching her face.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, babe." As soon as Leon pulled her into his arms, he could feel Noah's body shaking, her skin felt cold, he could already guess what she was feeling right now. Anxiety and possibility of PTSD.

Ignoring the broken glass to calm her down first, their cat who had been following Leon now climbed onto the dining table, sitting quietly watching them as if it had previously told him something was wrong with her.

"It's okay... I'm here now, always be right here with you." Leon kept trying to calm him down. While Noah remained silent, as if her emotions were struggling inside her head.

The warmth of Leon's body warmed her body and heart, making her lower her own ego, with hands still trembling and hesitant, she returned Leon's hug, burying her face in Leon's chest. Leon stroked her hair, while his hands were still tightly hugging her.

Leon cupped Noah's face, staring into the red and amber irises he admired. "I'll clean up the broken glass and let you have your hot chocolate, just wait a minute for me, okay, honey?" Leon smiled, giving Noah a small peck on her cheeks.

Leon did his job, cleaning up the glass shards and wrapping them safely for disposal, then made Noah the drink she wanted. Meanwhile, Noah, who was watching Leon silently, felt a soft touch on her shoulder, turning her head to see their black cat trying to get her attention by gently rubbing its paw on her cheek too, so Noah carried the cat in her arms, her expression was still hard to read, as if Noah herself was still confused about how she should react.

Some time later Leon finished making Noah hot chocolate, leading Noah to their bedroom as a comfortable place for Noah to calm down. Once inside, Leon closed the door softly, leading Noah to sit on the bed after which he put down the mug of hot chocolate, stroked Noah's cheek to keep trying to calm her down while Leon sat beside Noah, holding her hand in an attempt to let her know that she was not alone.

"You're not going to keep silent, are you?" Leon asked, his eyes still glued to her face while Noah looked pensive as she held the cat who kept looking at her face too. "You sometimes forget my duties as a husband."

Those words managed to make Noah turn her head towards Leon, a little confused look, a warm smile on Leon's face indicated that Noah didn't need to hide herself anymore, telling her that it was okay to involve him, it's okay to be herself around him.

The dark and dead gaze told him that Leon was right, the gaze that had no sparkle made his heart ache, with a faint smile of understanding, Leon shifted to adjust his position on the bed, pulling Noah into his arms as he half leaned against the headboard.

"Leon." Noah called, his voice soft, Leon hums softly, letting her know that Leon was listening.

"Am I Lycus?"

"No, you're Noah." Leon said, stroking her hair, his lips kissing the top of Noah's head, the woman did not take her hands off the cat. "You're still Noah to me though you're as strong as a goddess."

"You are stronger than you think, though you feel fragile." Leon said, his voice and breath were enough to calm Noah down at this moment.

"I am weak–"

"No, you're not, darling." Noah was silent, letting Leon's words sink in, her expression starting to weaken, but she didn't cry, her heart was pounding and her body felt hot and cold again.

"they said–"

"Mhm, not them." Leon cut her off, not letting Noah belittle herself. "You are special, you are strong, don't deny that."

Biting her lower lip, Noah took her hands off the cat to circle Leon's waist, closing her eyes, letting her ears rest on Leon's chest to listen to his heartbeat, making her calm down slowly.

Slowly, the images of her past faded back into Leon's arms, the burden on her shoulders fell off instantly, allowing her to surrender to Leon's love, allowing Leon to see her fragile side, allowing herself to be vulnerable in front of Leon, her husband.

His kisses, his voice, his breath, his heartbeat soothed her soul, makes her want to leave everything just to be near him, to feel the warmth that soothes her.

"As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you." Leon said, resting his cheek on the top of Noah's head once his woman had finally fallen asleep, followed by their cat who also seemed to calm down when it saw Noah getting better, lying between them.

"It's okay... Noah, don't worry, i'll be right here when you need it."

"Don't pretend to be strong in front of me when you're not, you are allowed to be weak in front of me, I love you for who you are and however you are."

—a/n : lmk if I misspell something, English is not my native language—

i bring a fanfic from oc x canon that i have (Lyceon is the ship name), im posting it here cuz usually on Insta, well... let's just say Insta hates me for typing long like this lol. so hope you like what i wrote, im not that good at writing, and made this in a hurry because it was already midnight, i'll revise this if there is something wrong :3

#leon kennedy #resident evil #fanart #leon x oc #leon fanart #resident evil fanart #oc x canon #oc #re oc #rebhfun #resident evil oc #fanfic #older leon kennedy #death island leon

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allykakamatsu · 2 days ago

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Twisted Hearts 1 Chapter 2: Tricks and Masters

Story Summary: When an unknown incident lands the students of NRC in a strange new world, they have to travel across worlds to find each other as well as trying to vanquish the darkness. Sounds.... easier than most of what they've been through this school year at least, but nothing is ever that simple, and a pair or adopted siblings will once again find themselves at odds.

Chapter Summary: Barely escaping the Queen of Hearts with their heads on their necks, the groups attempts to breathe are interrupted by a powerful Heartless. Meanwhile at Hollow Bastion, Riku meets the other villains and fully realises what he's in the middle of.

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“Riddle, that was awesome, but what the hell is that thing?” Ace asks as I get a better look at Riddle’s new weapon, a red claymore with three claw shaped blades at the bottom with a handle surrounded by a thorny vine themes hand guard, and a vine pattern in the middle with the four card suits and a crown along it.

“I have no clue admittedly!,” Riddle answers, “I was just filled with this determination, like when I get angry usually but more… controlled I suppose, and I just felt something in front of me to grab, so I did, and next thing you know I have this thing! Surprisingly not that heavy given the size of it but this is quite bizarre!”

“What the he-!! That’s a Keyblade!!” Donald gasps in shock as he jumps into Riddle to get a better look.

“Three, two.” Cater counts down but before I can ask why I see Riddle’s face turning red over Donald climbing all over him and that tells me all I need to know.

“GET OFF OF ME!!!” Riddle screams as he throws Donald through the door out of Wonderland…. Okay.

“That’s one way to open the door.” I quip as I break the stunned silence as the rest of us run through.

“I always forget how strong Riddle-Senpai is even without his magic…” Deuce mumbles as we all make it to the safe side and we quickly close the door. That… was way too close-

“Guys, where’s Alice?” Goofy asks as he helps up Donald, prompting us to look around and, unfortunately she is missing, zooterkins.

“When was the last time anyone saw her?” Sora asks as he gets panicked.

“She was with us right as we ran away from the trial,” Cater answers, “the soldiers were still down for the count thanks to Riddle’s #brutal attack so I don’t think she got grabbed at least, so she probably just got separated from us and hid somewhere.”

“I’ll go back in and check to be safe.” I state as while Cater’s probably right I don’t want to risk it… but as I try to open the door it won’t budge?

“Wait, what?,” Trey asks as he tries the door as well but he doesn’t have any luck either, “that… that’s a problem-!!”

“Whoa-Trey!!” Riddle yelps as Trey pulls me and him to the ground right as it starts shaking?

“What now?!” Donald groans in frustration as everyone else gets onto the floor.

“Wait… this feels like what happened when that heartless showed up in Traverse Town-!,” Sora yelps before getting cut off by a… purple and pink heartless thing holding batons appearing?!, “Heartless!! Everyone, be careful!”

“Aha, what the hell have we gotten ourselves into?” Cater asks with an uneasy laugh as we all square up for another fight.

“Anyone have a plan for this thing or are we just charging in?!” Trey asks as we all back up to avoid an attack.

“Get the darn batons away from it!! BLIZZARD!!!” Donald shouts before casting an ice spell at one of the batons.

“Sounds good to me!,” Ace agrees as he casts his own spell, “fire shot!” With that he fires the spell at the baton… only for the Heartless to not even flinch as the baton is set on fire, and it then lights up the other one before charging us again. Uh oh.

“ACE!!!!” Riddle and Deuce shout in frustration as we run away to get some distance and they both cast water spells at the Heartless.

“Well excuse me for not knowing it could do that!!” Ace fires back as he casts a water spell this time.

“Argue later, for now let’s just try not to get burned al-!” I tell them before pushing Sora out of the way of a fire blast.

“Ah!! Thanks again Silver-! Watch out! FIRE!!” Sora thanks me before casting a fire spell at the Heartless which was about to whack us, and thankfully that doesn’t set anything else on fire and just stuns it enough for us to back off.

“Guess we’re even now huh, nice cast,” I compliment making Sora smile as I get an idea, “Riddle! We can use our keyblades to cast! Let’s try it so we don’t build up too much blot!”

“They can-?!,” Riddle asks as he barely dodges a fire blast from the Heartless before checking his pen, “well, I suppose it can’t hurt to try! On three!!”

“Right!,” I say as we line up to fire… which includes Riddle mounting his keyblade like a rocket launcher… okay then!, “one, two, three!!”

“FIRE!!!” We both shout as I feel the magic come out of the keyblade just as naturally as it would if I was using my pen, though I feel a tingling, slightly draining sensation instead of the usual mild blot accumulation, and the fire spell hits it’s target, as does Riddle’s though his is somewhat comically oversized, and it makes the Heartless fall to it’s very stretchy knees.

“Let’s get it fellas’!” Goofy shouts as we all use the chance to hit the Heartless as hard as we can with our weapons and spells, and it looks like it’s almost dead-

“DEUCE WHAT ARE YOU DOING-?!?! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!” Ace screams as Deuce somehow throws Ace at the Heartless’s head, and that’s apparently enough to kill it as it dissolves into darkness, leaving behind it’s heart.

“That…. Is for lighting it’s weapons on fire… and making that more complicated…..” Deuce explains in between pants of exhaustion.

“Deuce, that was nice and Ace admittedly had it coming,” Cater tells him after we all recover from that attack, “and I know you said you wanted to be more like Rid’s, but I don’t think people throwing is the part you wanna emulate.”

“Wait, what?” Sora asks as everyone who wasn’t there for the incident looks confused.

“Long story short,” I explain, “on our first day, another one of our classmates touched Riddle’s hair cause he’d never seen anything that red before and he was curious without much care for personal space, and Riddle responded by setting collaring him with his unique magic, setting him on fire and throwing him across the room.”

“…..Wow, and you said Grim and ‘Zia caused a commotion on our first day, what they did is tame compared to that.” Ace quips as Riddle is looking embarrassed, Trey and Cater are hiding their laughter (though only the former is remotely successful at it) and everyone else stares in disbelief.

“I I In my defence, Floyd really shouldn’t of grabbed me like that, I I just panicked.” Riddle fires back once he’s mostly calmed down.

“Yeah, but,” Deuce adds, “well given how he is, no wonder Floyd-senpai doesn’t leave you alone now Riddle-senpai.”

“Teehee, you can say that again.” A new voice chimes in, and when I look up to see who it is, I see it’s a cat beastman about our age with purple hair, but notably the same type of tail as the cat who bought us time during the trial.

“Chen’ya!,” Trey shouts in surprised relief as all the Heartslaybul students eyes show some degree of recognition, “glad you made it out okay.”

“Ehe, gonna take more than an angry queen to pin me down,” Chen’ya assures him as he jumps down from the table with a bottle, “was eavesdropping during your introductions so I already know all your names, pleasure to meet you all. Sorry I couldn’t make it out sooner to help with whatever that unbirthday reject was, I was trying to figure out where in Wonderland Alice vanished off to.”

“Wait, she’s gone?!” Sora asks as the panic starts rising again.

“Yup,” Chen’ya admits, “she got split from you guys by some darkness stuff and ran into the lotus forrest, I ran after her, but after a few corner turns she was gone. Checked the place from top to toe but no sign of her.”

“Oh for the love of the Queen…,” Riddle mumbles in frustration, “does anyone have any ideas what could’ve happened to her?”

“Darkness….,” Sora hums before looking worried, “she might of been sent to another world like Riku and Kairi were.”

“Great, another kid we have to keep our eyes peeled for.” Donald groans in frustration.

“Chen’ya, can you keep your eyes open for her just in case.” Trey asks as he goes into what I’ve heard Idia call ‘mom mode’.

“Will do,” he agrees before giving a slightly sassy smirk, “but since you asked me, I assume you’re all going together to look for her and little Sora’s friends?”

“Hey!! I’m not that short!” Sora refutes with a pout which gets a snigger out of Ace.

“And to answer, unless someone wants to stay back as well I believe we are,” Riddle replies, “if nothing else I’m going, Liddell-san was in this mess with me, I feel obligated to at least ensure she makes it out of this.”

“Well, if you’re going, then you can count us in too Rids,” Cater adds with his usual smile, “right guys?”

“Right, Heartslaybul’s gotta stick together!” Deuce adds with an eager expression with Trey and Ace also nodding in agreement, though the latter does so a bit awkwardly. Heh, I heard about how rough things were for them on the first week of school, it’s nice to see them getting along a lot better now-

“Um, guys, what’s that?” I ask as I point back to the wonderland door… where a glowing keyhole has appeared in the already existing Keyhole…. Okay then?

“That’s the Keyhole!,” Donald explains as he and Goofy look both relieved and excited, “once we seal that the Heartless shouldn’t be bothering this world anymore!”

“Alright then!,” Sora says eagerly as he pulls out his Keyblade a bit awkwardly, “so, how do I close it-! Whoa!!”

“Like that apparently.” Ace quips as a laser beam fires out of the Keyblade and goes into the keyhole, making it vanish.

“I see, so the world trotting is also for a good cause, all the more reason to tag along then,” Riddle says likely thinking out loud before turning back to Chen’ya, “will you be alright on your own?”

“I’ll be fine, plus if I get bored I can probably figure out how to catch up,” Chen’ya replies, “but you’d better not forget about me while you’re gone.”

“Aha, I’d think I’ll be dead before I ever forget about you.” Trey assures him with a laugh which the cat beastman returns before vanishing.

“Do you really think he’d be able to world travel and find us?” Goofy asks as he takes a sip from the bottle Chen’ya left for us and it turns him back to his normal height.

“If it was anyone else I’d doubt it, but underestimating Chen’ya is a plan that usually just leads to getting jump-scared.” Riddle answers as he drinks up next and we all pass around the bottle and drink up, but as we are I can’t help but think.

It’s nice to have some back up, but this world hasn’t given me any leads on Father, Malleus or Sebek, and now we have to find Alice in addition to them and Sora’s friends. We managed to do some good while we were here but, I hope wherever we go next is a bit more fruitful in our search.

POV Switch, Riku:

“Come along now, we can’t be late.” Malleus says as he ‘leads’ (though it’s more accurate to say he’s all but dragging) me into the meeting room, and honestly, while this will probably be hell in it’s own way, I’ll take whatever is gonna happen in here compared to being trapped in a tiny bedroom with Malleus asking me way too many questions to ‘jog my memory’.

“Right, sorry.” I tell the insane dragon to placate him as we walk in, and the first thing I notice is the door we came in from is the only way in, so unless I learn how to teleport out of nowhere getting out is going to be easier said than done, though probably still easier than leaving the bedroom with Malleus inside it.

The other thing is the meetings attendants themselves. There’s… well there’s a woman with octopus limbs where her legs should be, a living sack, a guy who looks like he was ripped straight out of one of Sora’s pirate books, a guy with blue skin and his hair on fire, a tall man wearing a style of clothing I’ve never seen before, and what I assume is a teenage boy with his hood pulled up so much I can’t see his eyes who is desperately trying to not look at something.

“Hmph, I was wondering when you were going to arrive.” The tall man says as Malleus takes his seat at the table and I’m somewhat dragged into sitting on his lap.

“Apologise for the delay, I had to get reacquainted with my missing brother after all these years.” Malleus explains, putting all eyes in the room squarely on me, great…. Wait…. The boy looked shocked when he saw me but then he I think looked up and tensed? What in the world is going on?

“Ha, if I known it was bring your pet to work day I would’ve brought my poopsies,” the octopus woman says with a chuckle, “maybe even those dears who follow me around like lost sea puppies.”

“Don’t tempt me Ursula, if I bring in my little squad this whole castle will get trashed.” The sack man adds with a slightly sadistic laugh, and I notice the boy flinch and desperately try to shuffle away. Ah, so he’s trying to not look at the sack man, got it.

“I believe we were told that we weren’t allowed to bring anyone?” The pirate points out with a grimace, either he’s annoyed by the rule breaking or the fact he wasn’t allowed bring someone. Either way, he’s a mood because I am very annoyed by this entire situation. That and terrified but I won’t give the universe the satisfaction of admitting that.

“Riku is a guest of myself and Malleus, and Jaffar’s little assistant is fully joining us, so exceptions have been made,” Maleficent explains as she teleports in, “now then, I have called you all in for a specific reason.”

“Yeah yeah, can you make it quick, my plan to kill Wonderboy is almost ready and I’d rather get on it-!,” the fire man says dismissively but becomes annoyed when he barely dodges a lightning blast from Malleus (escape is becoming a bigger mess by the minute), “hey!! What’s the big idea?!”

“How unbefitting behaviour for a member of the Seven,” Malleus sighs before turning back to Maleficent, “continue, auntie.”

“Thank you dear,” Maleficent replies before getting focused, “while things are progressing smoothly, a hiccup has occurred. The Kingdom Key has been claimed, and the one who’s wielding it is travelling the worlds, which may be a problem.” With that she summons I guess a magic picture to show what she’s talking about-!!

“Sora!!” I shout involuntarily as I see my friend on the table, and while I slink back into my seat when everyone starts staring at me, I let out a massive sigh of relief as I do. Sora’s alright, thank goodness, and with how much he and Kairi stick together like glue she’s probably alright too. That’s the first good news I’ve gotten since I’ve got here, but by the sounds of it he could be in trouble now that these weirdos might be going after him. Hopefully he’ll be fine for a bit but this is all the more reason to get out of here.

“So, you all called us here so we knew who to gun for?” Sack man asks and even with the lack of proper eyes I can tell his intent is murderous. Sora please don’t run into these guys before I find you idiot….

“Primarily,” Maleficent admits before smirking, “though it was also to give you all an update on our plan.” Before anyone can ask what she means, she snaps her fingers and a blonde girl who’s even younger than Sora and Kairi appears.

“What…. Where am I…? This isn’t Wonderland! Who are you people?!” The girl asks extremely confused and panicked, but no one answers as everyone is now smirking, save for the boy who looks at me and even with his eyes covered I can tell he’s concerned about whatever is about to happen.

“Another Princess found,” the tall man who I think is Jaffar says with a smirk, “I believe that means there’s only two more to go, Jasmine and whoever the last one ends up being.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it ends up being that damned Peter Pan’s little friend, or a certain someone’s ditz of a princess.” The pirate chimes in which makes the octopus sigh in agreement.

“Regardless, let’s deal with the one we have right now,” Maleficent says as she grips the panicked girls arm, “my dear, as always.”

“Of course,” Malleus agrees as he sits up and leaves me in the chair, “I’ll be right back.”

“Wait, what are you going to do to her?” I ask getting very tense and ignoring the sacks comments about me being Malleus’s baby.

“Just what we need to, don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” Malleus answers as he starts casting a spell, which does nothing to lessen my panic and evidently the same is true for the girl as she starts trying to squirm away.

“Let me go, let me go!!” She shouts as she tries to get out but it’s not working, and…. Fuck it.

“No!! I don’t know what you’re doing but you’re going to hurt her!” I shout as I jump out of my seat and grab onto the spell arm to try make him stop. Is this dumb, yes, but it’s not the dumbest thing I’ve done in the past twenty four hours, and at least in this case the only one I can hurt is myself-!! OW!!

“Jeez, got a real beacon of heroism there.” The fire man quips as I pull myself off the floor after receiving a slap from a very angry looking Maleficent, oh boy.…

“What… what the hell is going on?” The hooded boy asks, finally speaking, with a tone of confusion and dread and that makes Malleus give him a look of shocked recognition. Great, now someone else is going to be dragged into this mess.

“Boy don’t cause a scene, you don’t want to end up like that fool.” Jaffar tells the boy with a hiss as I try to stop whatever the hell this is, but I… can’t move?! What the- shit Maleficent’s using a spell to keep me in place this is bad! Um, is there anything I can throw?!

“And to answer your question Viper-san,” Malleus replies as he turns back to the now trembling girl, “we need the hearts of the Seven Princesses of Heart to complete our plan, so I’m just adding the next one to the set.”

“Her heart- WAIT!!!” I shout as I try to process what’s happening, but before the words even fully register in my brain Malleus puts his spell hand on the girls chest, making a crystal like heart appear which Maleficent grabs right as the girl falls over.

“What… what… what the hell did you do to her?!?!” I shout as I try to get out of this spell. They… they just killed a child… how…. How could they…?!?! I’m… I’m going to kill them-!!

“Apologise for my brother, he’s always had a good heart and this isn’t an easy thing to see.” Malleus apologises as I see that I somehow broke free, but now I’m stunned on the floor…. My hands are also faintly glowing a wispy purple which great, this is even worse somehow…

“It’s alright dear,” Maleficent says with an exasperated sigh directed at me, “but bring him back to your room for now so he doesn’t cause any more scenes. Now, where were we?”

With that Malleus picks me up and takes me out of the room, and I try to move, or even say anything, but I just can’t, and the last thing I see before everything goes black is the boy, Viper, looking in my direction with concern as he tries to move the girls body.

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phoenixblaze1412 · 1 day ago

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Hellooo! How are you? I hope you are okay. So I have a request and I hope it's not much. I saw the post with a crush on pantalone, and I really loved it! (I like all your posts tbh) so can I ask you about father dottore and segments and the reader is in a relationship with pantalone, how would they act I wanna know, and thank you so muchh

The air in the Fatui headquarters buzzed with its usual energy: sharp footsteps against marble, hushed conversations about classified missions, and the occasional crash coming from one of Dottore's experiments gone awry.

But today, something unusual loomed over the corridors—a sense of impending chaos that only the Doctor and his devoted (and sometimes meddlesome) segments could conjure.

And it all started with a rumor.

You and Pantalone had been trying to keep your relationship under wraps. The Ninth Harbinger, ever poised and composed, found a certain thrill in sneaking moments with you between meetings and diplomatic missions. You, meanwhile, were content just to bask in his company despite the complications it might bring.

Unfortunately, secrecy wasn’t exactly feasible when your father is Dottore.

It was Theta who stumbled upon you two first.

He had wandered into the garden section of the headquarters during his 'break,' only to freeze when he saw you leaning against a tree with Pantalone beside you, his gloved hand resting lightly on your waist as he spoke softly into your ear.

"Are you kidding me?" Theta blurted, eyes wide with disbelief. "You’re dating the literal Regrator?"

You winced. "Theta, keep your voice down!"

But it was too late. The damage had been done.

Dottore slammed a gloved hand down on his desk, the room vibrating with his barely contained fury. "Pantalone?" he spat, pacing back and forth as Alpha, Zeta, and Theta stood nearby like a dysfunctional peanut gallery. "Of all people, my child chooses that manipulative snake?"

Theta, ever the instigator, grinned. "I mean, at least it’s not Tartaglia. That guy would probably teach them how to duel on their first date."

Alpha crossed his arms. "This is unacceptable. Regrator is dangerous."

Zeta, the voice of reason, cleared his throat. "Technically, sir, they’re both consenting adults."

Dottore glared at him. "Not helping."

You and Pantalone were having a rare moment of peace in his luxurious office. He had just poured you a glass of finely aged wine, his smile soft as he leaned toward you.

"To us," he murmured, clinking his glass gently against yours.

"To us," you echoed, heart fluttering.

Just as your faces drew closer, the door burst open.

"There will be no 'us' here," Dottore declared, flanked by Alpha and Iota.

You groaned. "Dad!"

Pantalone, ever composed, merely raised an eyebrow. "Ah, Doctor. To what do I owe this.. intrusive visit?"

"I’m here to protect my child’s innocence," Dottore said with deadly seriousness. "Something you clearly intend to corrupt."

Pantalone's lips quirked into a faint smirk. "I assure you, my intentions are honorable."

"Honorable, my—" Theta cut in from behind, grinning like a madman. "Pantalone’s about as trustworthy as a loaded crossbow."

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Can I have one moment of peace?"

"No," Dottore and Theta said in unison.

It wasn’t just one incident. Dottore and his segments made it their mission to sabotage any private time you had with Pantalone.

Romantic dinners? Interrupted by sudden “urgent lab assignments.”

Walks through the garden? Constantly monitored by Alpha, who insisted he was "on patrol."

Even simple hand-holding was met with disapproving glares from Iota, who somehow always materialized at the worst moments.

One evening, after another failed attempt at a quiet evening together, you stormed into the lab where Dottore was working.

"Enough!" you snapped, slamming your hands on the table. "I’m not a child, Dad. I love Pantalone, and you can’t control my life forever."

Dottore didn’t look up from his work. "Love is a chemical imbalance," he said flatly. "It clouds judgment."

"Yeah, well, so does obsession with experiments," you shot back.

Theta snickered from across the room. "Ooh, burn."

Desperate for some alone time, you and Pantalone devised a plan: a secret weekend getaway to one of his private estates outside Snezhnaya.

It was perfect—or so you thought.

You were halfway through a candlelit dinner when the sound of something crashing through the window made you jump.

Standing in the shattered frame was none other than Theta, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

"Found you!"

Behind him, Alpha and Iota descended from a rope tied to the balcony.

Pantalone sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This is getting ridiculous."

"You think?" you deadpanned.

Dottore strode in through the front door, completely unbothered by the chaos. "This ends now," he declared. "You are coming back with me."

"No, I’m not," you said firmly. "I love Pantalone, and you need to accept that, Dad. I'm old enough to make some choices of my own and you have to acknowledge that."

The room fell silent.

Dottore’s expression was unreadable, but finally, he let out a long sigh. "... fine," he said before glancing over at the Regrator and narrowed his eyes at him. "But if he breaks your heart, I will be the one to personally dissect him, put all of his organs in different jars and throw them into the sea."

Pantalone chuckled, raising his glass. "Noted, Doctor."

Over time, Dottore and the segments eased up—slightly.

Theta still teased you relentlessly, and Alpha continued to glare at Pantalone during meetings. But there was a sense of reluctant acceptance in the air.

One evening, as you sat with Dottore in the lab, he spoke without looking up from his work. "Does he make you happy?"

"Yeah," you said softly. "He really does."

Dottore huffed. "Fine. But if he so much as looks at you the wrong way—"

"I know, I know. Dissection."

"Good."

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #dottore #dottore x reader #zandik x reader #il dottore #il dottore x reader #gender neutral reader #teen to adult reader #pantalone #pantalone x reader

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thesleepyfable · 3 days ago

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~ SWTD: Still Here AU Season 2 Part 11: ~

It's Not That Bad:

This is, I think, the longest chapter I've written since chapter 6. A fair few trigger warnings, and you'll see why. Also, I need to thank @sukipershipper for allowing me to use this idea she's covered previously.

TW: Infection. Blood. Vomit. PTSD and hospital mention.

Caz caught the quick glimpse of the sign.

Glasgow: 10 miles.

They've been on the road for nearly four hours by now, and everyone was feeling fatigued. The driver was stretching his arms or cracking his neck whenever he could. Caz and Suze were quiet. Cait and Maidie had been asleep for the past hour, along with Addair and Rennick, who had unknowingly huddled together with the robin Ruby sitting on Rennick's head. Caz nearly followed suit until he saw the other truck pulling off the motorway and into an empty service station. Without warning, the driver followed. Maybe now was a good time to have a break.

The first truck stopped abruptly in the first lay-by, and in a passing glance, Caz saw everyone jumping out in a hurry. He frowned and felt a rising panic in his chest. Suze managed a seak peek, catching Innes kneeling over and violently coughing.

'Are they okay?'

'I don't know...'

Roy wheezed and spat out spit to try and get the lingering taste from his mouth, whilst his eyes watered and snot trickled from his nose and dripped from his upper lip. Innes, Simon, and the driver ran into the nearest bush to be sick. Jack was pulling Irene away as they used their scarves to cover their nose and mouth. Meanwhile, the truck swayed from side to side with loud accommodating bangs, leaving bulging metal, begging to burst with each creak.

Caz jumped the two seats and made a dash for his brothers. 'Are you-' Then the rank smell hit his nose. All of his hairs stood on their ends. His face wrinkled, posture straightened with stiff shoulders, mouth curled in, and he felt his stomach turning with his breakfast, trying to crawl its way back up the oesophagus. He coughed and stepped back, covering his mouth whilst his eyes watered. 'What the fuck?!' Caz had to turn away. Suze, Cait and Maidie slowly approached, causing him to hold up a hand. 'Suze, keep the girls there.'

'What's wrong?' Suze called.

'Just-' Another cough. 'Keep back for now, aye?!' Rennick and Addair, left behind in the truck, pressed their ears to the door and listened. They shared a worried and confused look before the banging echoed into their own space. Gibbo's worried voice could be heard halfway down the rest of the A9.

'Jack?! Mum?' He rammed his body against the doors. 'Are you okay?! Let me out - Let me out!'

'Stop it, Gibbo!' Trots' voice trembled. 'You'll break the doors-'

'Where's my son?! Mum?!'

Holding his breath, not that it did much, Caz approached the back doors and banged his own fist against the metal. 'Gibbo,' he wheezed before holding back a cough that made him choke on his spit. 'Jesus mate, I'll get the door.' But as soon as Caz lifted the lock, the doors barged open, nearly crushing every bone in his body as it was pressed against the door and the truck. Gibbo tumbled out, not caring who saw him, and frantically searched for Jack and Irene, who were leaning against a lamp post, trying to catch their breath. He dashed to them and cupped their faces with his tendrils, checking over them for any signs of infection. Trots was no better. He used every ounce of strength and tendril his body could form to reach Simon, who accepted him with a bear-hug. But now, whatever the smell was, just got stronger. 'Alright, what the fuck is that?'

'It's Muir,' Trots answered, seemingly unaffected by the smell, along with Gibbo, who was shielding his family with his curled up body.

'What, did he explode?'

'No,' Muir snapped with a panicked tone. Caz looked in and saw the man huddled in the back. 'It's not that bad.'

'Are you taking the piss?!'

'It's that hard hat of his,' Innes coughed and stumbled back with weak knees. 'It's been digging into his skin, and now it's infected.' He pointed. 'Fuckin' look at it.'

'I'm not a wild animal, Innes!' No one had thought about it much, but it was strange how Muir's hat managed to stay on his enlarged head whilst his uniform was ripped to shreds. The flesh had grown in and around the lining, glueing it into place and breaking a piece off in the centre. But now, an infection has formed. Caz saw small trickles of blood coming from Muir's forehead, bruising and red sore patches of skin, before spotting the gangrene. That explained the smell. Meanwhile, Gibbo and the other driver opened the door for Addair and Rennick, who approached curiously. Muir slowly stepped out, and thankfully, the cold, crisp air covered some of the smell. Key word being some. 'How bad is it?'

'You cannae smell anything?'

'No,' but it seemed none of the infected men did. 'And I cannae feel anything. Is that bad?'

'Yes,' Irene softly called, her voice falling on deaf ears.

'It needs to come off,' Innes bluntly stated. He began to roll up his jacket sleeves, which in turn made Muir's eyes go wide.

'W-Wait.' Everyone stayed quiet. 'Maybe we should-'

Addair lunged. Despite his many eyes, Muir didn't have time to react. A shooting pain ran through his body, and his scream caused the ground to shake. He felt Addair's hands press against the gangrene, and his fingers burrowed under the skin and hat for grip. Muir tried to shake him, swaying and bucking like a horse trying to throw off its rider, but that didn't stop Addair, who clambered onto the former deckhand. Some tendrils wrapped around his body, and the rest anchored them to the spot. Soon, his weight pinned Muir to the pavement.

'Addair-' Muir screamed. 'What the fuck?! Get the fuck off me!'

'My son is dying in a hospital bed,' Addair hissed through his gritted and broken teeth. 'I don't have time for this. So, shut the fuck up and-' he tugged at the helmet. Muir's screams now became cries of pure agony. 'Stay still!'

Innes and Caz were frozen in shock. Suze hugged Cait and Maidie close, trying to keep them calm. Maidie was crying from the stress, tightly gripping her mum's jumper. Cait tried to keep watching out of morbid curiosity, but Gibbo got in the way. Rennick, however, looked on with wide eyes and shallow breaths. A memory crept back into his mind, where the hot sand burned with the sweltering sun.

Flashes of those days scratched his mind. The long walk. An explosion. A young soldier limping with shrapnel in his thigh. He refused to have it removed until they got back to a medical camp. But all the horizon offered was an endless desert and a sense of being watched. Then the smell entered his nose, and the black bruising and yellow puss spread across the skin. He and his men had no choice but to pin the lad down and do their own shabby operation, all within less than three days. The boy kicked and wailed. He screamed for his mum. Until...

'Muir? Muir, look at me.' Rennick's soft voice surprised himself. Addair and Muir briefly stopped their tug of war and turned to him. Rennick offered an arm for Muir to hold. The younger man accepted. 'Do you want to know a secret?' Muir didn't answer, and Rennick didn't wait for one. Addair registered what he was doing and softly began to separate the skin from the helmet. 'So, I never told anyone this, but I have a tattoo.'

'W-What?' Everyone else had the same thought.

'I dunno. Young, dumb and got very bored one night at base.'

'Were you drunk?'

'Probably.'

Muir chuckled lowly. Addair continued to tug. Muir could still feel the pain - hissing and squeezing Rennick's arm - but he felt safe. 'What is it?'

'A unicorn.' Cue Muir burst into a fit of laughter. 'Aye, I told you. Young and dumb.'

'God, I would have given up me pension to see that-'

With one final pull, the hard hat came off. Muir arched his back and roared one final, ground shaking, scream. He let go of Rennick, who took a step back. Addair moved away and tossed the hat into the back of the truck. The scream became a light whimper. Innes rushed forward and held Muir's face in his hands, stroking it with his thumb. The pain began to subside, but the sore looking skin remained. Puss and blood continued to drip down his face, but the deckhand felt better than he had in days. He locked eyes with Innes, who smiled.

'Hey, you lucky cunt.' Muir looked confused. 'You're hair's growing back.' Innes wasn't wrong. The crown of his head had chunks of black hair finally free to feel the cold air.

'Jealous?'

'Of course.'

Satisfied with the outcome, Rennick turned and made his way back to the truck. Caz and Addair followed. Ruby flew and landed back on the bridge of Rennick's nose. No one got ready for the next leg of their journey. They've already made it in and out of Aberdeen, and there was a tired look in everyone's eyes. The truck engines were dead, and the drivers sat on the pavement. Simon's stomach grumbled. Roy had lit a cigarette he was currently sharing with Trots. Even Addair, despite the urgency for his son, clearly wanted the fresh air.

Just a quick thirty minute break. What harm can that do?

#My Writing #Still Wakes the Deep #Still Wakes the Deep: Still Here AU

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extremely-judgemental · 2 hours ago

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Okay, I just left this in comments, but I guess we need a post too.

IIRC the sisters' attendance was not even precedent until they arrived. When no one knew they were going to be present, it's unlikely Eris would have planned to ask for Nesta's hand in marriage. He never showed such interest until Feyre herself suggested he dance with one of the sisters. Was he intrigued by Nesta? Yes.

And this is set in a royal core, medieval times where it's customary to ask for hand in marriage to the parents when a man likes a woman. But people are setting the modern standards when it comes to the whole marriage trope where the guy asks the woman first. IC is positioned as this progressive rulers when the rest of the Prythian is living in 1700s. Was Eris's behaviour out of norm when we consider this? I don't think so. He was playing by the rules asking for her hand to Feyre who is playing the housekeeper and Rhysand who is the HL of the court where Nesta lives. In their conversation, it's known both Eris and Nesta are aware they are being baited and exploited in that moment. They are only keeping up the charades.

Yes, we don't know enough about Eris. But at least he showed some interest in knowing her. He wasn't preying on her. He met her, liked her, said he wanted to marry her. I still believe it's a stretch to blame him entirely for showing interest in a woman, and not even in a toxic way.

It's okay to not accept a ship or not see the potential in it but saying a character is toxic when they showed little to no signs of it to deny a ship is problematic.

After seeing the other reblogs, adding this. Proposing marriage is not equal to an active abuse. The two don't even lie in the same spectrum. Eris asked to marry Nesta meanwhile Cassian and Rhysand are abusing her after imprisoning her unjustly in HoW.

Neris is often scorned because Eris ‘sees’ Nesta as a thing to be bought or gained. It’s a bit of a stretch to place the blame entirely on him when he was in a similar position with Morrigan/Keir, he knew how Night/Hewn City works, and it was Rhysand who decided to use Nesta as a pawn. It wasn’t even his intention to win one of the sisters. It was fed to him by Rhysand (and Feyre, however unwillingly) first. After his exchange with her, Eris decided he wanted her. Night planned the whole encounter with the idea to dangle Nesta as a piece of meat and we’re mad that he took it?

And this isn’t their first introduction. Eris saw Nesta in the High Lords meeting where he was the only one to acknowledge Nesta’s contribution and skills when no one else did, including Feyre and Cassian.

If Eris wants Nesta only for power, I’m all for it. Night is doing the same, at the least she will be appreciated by someone instead of be abused by Rhysand and Cassian whenever they feel like it.

Eris is the kind of man Nesta’s mother would approve of. So what? I honestly don’t care.

What if Nesta marries this noble and still has a better life?

It took an entire book for Cassian to lust after Nesta and finally say he didn’t want to be shackled to her. I seriously don’t think anyone can be worse than the man who knew Nesta was sexually assaulted and still slept with her immediately after. She literally escaped one predator to be preyed upon by another.

At this point, anyone is a better alternative than Cassian, and that includes Eris.

#neris #pro neris #anti nessian #anti acotar #anti sjm

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skimmingmilk · 7 days ago

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How do you think Sharp and Sonic's relationship would be like, if/when they meet in the Sharp AU?

I love that I got two asks about Sharp and Sonic back to back xD You both were on the same wavelength when you sent these!

So I answered a bit about how Sonic would approach Sharp as a potential threat here.

In terms of how they'd actually get along? Better than Tails and Nine! I think once Sonic realized that Sharp's been helping Tails, he'd be just as friendly towards him as anyone else. He'd probably poke fun at how serious he is and that he needs to loosen up more, but Sharp would just look pointedly at Drift from No Place, then arch a silent brow as he stared at Sonic, daring him to suggest that again.

"I said 'loosen up more,' not lose your grip entirely..." (they're so mean, my boy Drift doesn't deserve this slander!)

At first Sharp judges Sonic hard. Like, this is the guy Tails looks up to and swears is his best friend and big brother? He's a joke. But luckily Sharp's not without a sense of humor, so he probably can't help but say snarky things in time with Sonic. He's not as playful, but Tails has brought that side of him out a bit more. Plus, they can both agree on being protective and making sure Tails isn't in danger. Sharp can respect and admire that Sonic will fight to protect his friends. That he actually has friends to protect.

Sonic also judges him a little, because this guy's been hanging around his little brother and apparently made everyone in his world mad at him, so is he that great of a guy for Tails to be around? But he can quickly tell that Tails basically has Sharp wrapped around his finger, so if anyone's in danger of being influenced by anyone, it's Sharp xD

Sonic can rely on Sharp to look after Tails while he looks after everyone else. Sonic's got his hands full with making sure Amy, Big, Knuckles, Rouge, and Shadow are all okay, so once he feels like he can trust Sharp, he can rest a bit easier knowing Tails has some back-up while he's trying to do his part to fix the Paradox Prism.

Sonic is pretty accepting of himself and comfortable with who he is as a person, and I think that would reflect in how he interacts with the other versions of himself. Except maybe Drift xD I think Sonic might think Drift is all the worst parts of him with none of the good to balance him out. He'd definitely take Sharp over Drift, lol.

#drift all alone on his island playing sad songs on his guitar :(#it's okay drift sails loves you!#and the rest of the pirate crew will too!#meanwhile boscage sonic is just minding his own business xD no one's picking fights with him (mostly because he's werehog boy)#skimming asks #sharp edges au #sonic prime au

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tryingahandinholdingapen · 1 hour ago

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unless explicitly stated otherwise, please assume that all my warring clans era aus include Hashirama and/or Tobirama working towards overthrowing Senju Butsuma and being absolutely justified in doing so

anyway. tobiizu au in which they're both sort of using each other but they both benefit so it's fine. specifically Izuna is like wow I'm so good at this we'll totally be able to defeat the Senju with this info/help! we've already managed to separate them from some of their allies! meanwhile Tobirama is there like I'm going to get a good mark in betraying my clan, something that is normal to want and possible to achieve-

(He's using Izuna to get rid of Butsuma's loyalists and/or members of his clan that can't be trusted/are far too casual about committing crimes that Tobirama and or his brother are Not Cool With. The allies that Izuna destroyed Senju relations with were actively betraying the Senju clan anyway but Tobirama hadn't been able to convince Butsuma that a) he was telling the truth about the betrayal and b) they should break that alliance off before it irreparably fucked them over)

Arguably Tobirama is kind of winning at the whole game of manipulating each other because like he's getting everything he wants, politically speaking. The Senju aren't exactly in a better situation than before he started leaking info to/helping Izuna (Butsuma's loyalists + war criminals or not, fucking over or outright killing members of your own clan is still not optimal) but nor are they in a worse situation (a lot of problems are being solved. mostly by telling the Uchiha "look at this shiny important thing" to get them to destroy whatever the problem is, admittedly). When Tobirama's finished with Izuna, Butsuma will be dead, Hashirama will be able to smoothly take over the Senju clan without significant loss in power/resources/reputation, and then Hashirama will be able to properly seek peace with the Uchiha who might even accept because they probably feel like they're winning/the Senju are losing

This isn't to say that Izuna is LOSING at the manipulation game, exactly? Like he may be unknowingly helping the Senju clan, but he's also NOT in any way fucking over his own clan, if anything he is also helping his own clan and like once they make peace (he will probably pitch a bit of a tantrum about this and possibly have to be bribed with a marriage to Tobirama or something, but it WILL be happening Izuna get over it-) any advantage the Senju have will kind of also be the Uchiha's by extension. So as far as the political + resource etc side of things go, Tobirama is definitely winning, but Izuna isn't quite losing

Also I think Izuna is definitely winning on a more personal level lmao he essentially has Tobirama wrapped around his finger by the end of all this. He's getting a lot of wins as far as their relationship kind of stuff and also getting Tobirama to do random tasks for him/his clan and prove his devotion/loyalty like noooo of course Tobirama isn't secretly a double agent for the Senju whatttt look he did all your random tasks and he loves you so much! So yeah Izuna is winning on the personal front. Though at least some of the time I think Tobirama definitely knows that Izuna is like, blatantly angling for something and plays along anyway despite not actually falling for it, which actually pleases Izuna even more

Hashirama does not know any of this is happening btw. Madara does, and most of the Uchiha for that matter (Izuna couldn't avoid fessing up to where he was getting all the info/how he was achieving things at a certain point) but Hashirama? Hashirama is in the middle of staging a coup + building up his own power base whilst simultaneously trying to convince Butsuma he's totally still loyal to him. Hashirama trusts Tobirama entirely so when Tobirama was like "don't worry Anija, you focus on our allies and I'll focus on dealing with our enemies" Hashirama essentially just went "okay <3 yay <3" and didn't think of it again for just, ages. If his brother says he's dealing with it he will! Tobirama is so smart and sneaky after all-

Can't decide if it's funnier if in the end it comes out that Hashirama had absolutely no clue what Tobirama was doing for him or if he's in like peace negotiations with the Uchiha and just rolling with it like yes obviously I knew about that thing my baby brother did last summer he acted with my full authority at all times (has no idea what event Madara is even referring to)

It's important to me that at some point when they're still Very Much at war and the Uchiha don't yet know what's going on with Tobirama seemingly switching sides, Izuna goes on a solo mission. Tobirama is also on a solo mission (may be a fake self-assigned mission or he may have just completed the actual mission way faster than anticipated and then not gone back to the clan yet after finishing) so he could meet Izuna. A couple of Uchiha had had another mission in vaguely the same area as Izuna and so decided "hey since we're meant to finish our missions around the same time why don't we find Izuna and all go home together?"

And that's how one or more unprepared Uchiha walk into a room only to see the White Demon of the Senju sprawled at their heir's feet on a rug by the fire, looking completely unphased by Izuna fucking with his hair/outfit whilst he recites Senju patrol routes (???) and weak points of the agreement the Senju have with an allied clan (?!?!) and their heir looks very pleased with himself but...not like any of this is a surprise occurence?...

Izuna and the Demon seem to notice them at the same time and the Senju cuts off his recitation in favour of them both staring at the Uchiha squad. Who stare back. After a few moments the Uchiha squad kind of awkwardly give a quick bow to Izuna and blurt out something about "nice to see you're fine after your mission see you back at the compound UH bye!" and just. Close the door and leave

(They can just about hear Tobirama resuming his recitation as they exit the building)

(what the hell)

This au ends with Konoha being formed partially on the basis of a marriage alliance (Izuna demands Tobirama be given to him and his request is basically immediately granted (Hashirama still doesn't 100% know all of what's been going on but he HAS managed to extract the information from Tobirama that he's been sort of kinda courting Izuna for years and the Uchiha had technically helped make peace, and that Tobirama "wouldn't object" if Izuna really wanted Tobirama's hand which from Tobirama is BASICALLY a full on romantic proposal with fireworks and all. If that's what his baby brother wants then that's what he gets!! Hashirama is so happy everyone's getting their happy ending <3) and it's all good

It should also be noted here that the Uchiha clan as a whole are mildly bewildered by this. Like they're not going to SAY anything because this works for them but... The Senju want to give them/Izuna Tobirama? Really? Are we just, ignoring the bit where Tobirama was actively betraying their clan for literal years, via Izuna? Okay then...

(The Senju don't care or are actively happy about it because at this point they're mostly composed of people who either simply do not give a shit about politics in general or the whole "betrayal" thing in particular, or like Hashirama view the "betrayal" as Tobirama actually doing the ultimate risky play to free them from Butsuma's Terrible leadership and bring them peace. The few dissidents are for the most part smart enough to keep their fucking mouths shut and those that don't learn quickly)

Anyway Konoha is set up with Senju and Uchiha being equal to each other (and other clans are also there + equal etc but that's not that important rn) and it's all good it's nice. There's actually very little trouble from warmongers or anything in either of the two founding clans? In the Senju they're mostly either afraid of retaliation (they're Aware of a tiny bit about what happened to Butsuma's followers okay) or have reluctantly been won over to "wow we're doing better than we were before, and I guess Hashirama+Tobirama aren't as bad as I thought...okay. I don't like this but I can live with it and see what they do next. On the Uchiha side of things, those who are still like "grrrrr kill all Senju blah blah blah" are mostly under the impression (due to the whole "betrayal" thing, the fact that Hashirama handed his brother over to him, etc) that they've actually successfully subjugated the Senju and the morons just don't realise it. This is factually incorrect but everyone else in the village has decided it's easier to not correct them about this because then the bitter bastards might start actually causing problems for peace; let them live in their delusions

Izuna gets Tobirama as his wife and absolutely tries to push any and every boundary and just generally get his way/manipulate Tobirama into doing v minor but vaguely demeaning or inconvenient things like, all the time. Izuna is NOT as subtle about this as he thinks he is but he will likely never learn this because Tobirama indulges him constantly; he generally finds Izuna's antics to be somewhere on a scale from "this could not matter less to me and therefore I don't mind" to "sexy" to "that's really funny actually" to "that's kind of cute in a stupid way/the same way a v small child or dumb animal is"

People who care about Tobirama (for example Mito, Hashirama, Touka) MIGHT be more concerned about the fact that Izuna and Tobirama are barely even trying to hide the fact that their relationship isn't exactly typical/normal nor healthy....except they both seem really happy? Also they RECOGNISE that look of fond/amused indulgence on Tobirama's face, tho admittedly previously when they saw it it was usually aimed at like, his summons or young students or something, but still. Clearly he's not actually doing anything he doesn't want to do or that distresses him so they'll leave their brother to his bizarre relationship

(Also the occasional sheer Glee or look of mischief or smugness on Izuna's face is kind of funny. He looks like a cat that Got Away With It it's hilarious)

People on Izuna's side of things (Madara, Hikaku, etc) are considerably less at ease about this because they do Not know Tobirama enough to fully understand his expressions or realise that half the time he's knowingly going along with Izuna's bullshit for his own amusement/pleasure/curiosity. This relationship is clearly neither normal or healthy! But like, IZUNA is clearly very, very happy and is perpetrating most of the unhealthy/obsessive/weird bullshit, meanwhile Tobirama+his people don't seem to be objecting to any of this so...uh...what can they even do here??? It would be weird to try to 'save' Tobirama from Izuna right? They shouldn't do that. Or maybe they should?... They're all kind of stressed about it and Madara in particular is also just Extremely Uncomfortable bc I've decided now that Izuna+Tobirama have not actually moved out (yet?) and so he's witness to just, so much more of their bullshit than anyone else and he wants NONE OF IT thanks

#my own posts #tobiizu #supposed traitor au #cant decide whether Hikaku+Madara should actually attempt an intervention or not #its important to me that you know that for the vast majority of this is absolutely Key that Tobirama seems-#-like he is just constantly being ordered around/manipulated by everyone (he's Butsuma's most loyal soldier (ha) he's devoted beyond reason-#-to his brother he betrayed his OWN CLAN for Izuna nothing matters more to him than duty etc etc) meanwhile he's actually playing 5D chess-#moving everyone else around. and then when hes done hes like okay :) im finished now hard work over time to relax (lets Izuna manipulate him #into stupid bullshit for the rest of time + plays happy wife + is genuinely very happy + satisfied with the village and his relationship)

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