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traveler-at-heart · 12 hours ago

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Average

Summary: Natasha and you make an unlikely pair.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

“Describe yourself in one word”

Boring.

No, not boring. You’ve traveled, even if it was to the places everyone goes to when they’re backpacking through Europe.

You have friends, go out to the movies, you love concerts.

Like everyone else. You are like everyobody else.

Average.

“Y/N?” Holly insists, making you snap out of your thoughts.

Right, this is about her dating profile, not an existencial crisis inducing question for you.

You can focus on that while you take your Thursday bath.

“Curious” you offer.

“Like the monkey”

“Adventurous”

“So a harlot?”

“Oh, my God! Difficult, the word you are looking for is difficult” you sigh, crashing against your desk. Your friend laughs, going back to her phone.

“I’m writing down sexy”

—

The question sticks with you as you go back home.

Average height, average hair color. Regular clothes. 9 to 5 job. You’re smart, but not particularly good at anything.

There’s nothing outstanding about your small, normal family life as well.

And honestly? You like it, but if you were to go out with someone tomorrow, would you even know what to talk about?

It’s one of those days, where you aren’t sure if you’re stuck in your comfort zone or happy and fulfilled with what you have.

While you prepare dinner for one and eat in front of the tv, you can’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be out of the ordinary.

—

Careful what you wish for.

Flying aliens across New York are definitely out of the ordinary.

When you wished for an exciting day, you kinda hoped to spot a celebrity, or eat something nice out. Not be a first hand witness of the end of the world.

People are running in every direction, screaming terrified. You’re ready to join the mass hysteria, but something makes you look around the street.

There’s a woman trapped under some metal, struggling to free herself.

Aliens blast around you, and you’re torn.

Run.

And you do, except that against all logic, it’s towards the woman.

“You need to evacuate” she says, waving her hand. “Someone come in, damn it”

Judging by her outfit, and the way she places her fingers over her ear, she must be an agent in the field.

The woman probably knows how to protect herself. Maybe she could easily get out of it. Or it’s her job to die to protect others.

Either way, it’s unacceptable for you to leave her behind.

“Come on” you use a piece of a spaceship for leverage, lifting the heavy object that’s trapping her.

“Careful” when she looks up, she sees one of the aliens throwing something at you. Pushing you out of the way, you both stumble down the destroyed street until a tall man comes to the rescue.

“Took your sweet time” the woman complains.

“Sorry. Who are you?”

“A citizen. Take her to safety”

“Wait” you plead, but he’s already carrying you to the evacuation zone.

“I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Steve Rogers”

Oh, well, getting carried by Captain America definitely doesn’t happen to you every day.

Wish granted.

—

It’s been a week and the city is slowly getting rebuilt. It’s not like they have another choice. New York can’t stop, not even for an alien invasion.

So, life goes back to being the same.

9 to 5, cooking, old movies.

Meeting with friends, who were eager to hear your story about being rescued by Captain America. In a few days, they’d forget.

You seem to have a problem with that, because you can’t forget that beautiful woman and her red hair, striking green eyes looking at you while you helped her.

It’s stupid, really. You don’t even know her name.

But as days go by, you remember more things that seemed to be lost in the moment.

That cute little nose, her full lips.

She’s the most beautiful…

“Excuse me”

It takes you a moment to understand someone’s speaking to you. As you turn around, you find the woman, staring at you with a smile.

“Hi” you say, a little too loudly.

“Hello. Glad to see you made it out safely”

“Yes, well, Captain America made sure of that” you nod, fidgeting with your hands.

Now that there’s no aliens or an imminent threat, her attention is on you and nothing else, which makes you squirm a little.

“Can I… buy you a coffee? To thank you for saving my life”

“No need to thank me” you say, hoping she asks again because you’re eager to spend time with her.

“I insist” she says with a smile.

That’s all it takes for you to agree.

She let’s you choose the place, a small café close to where you live.

You finally learn her name when the barista takes her coffee order.

Natasha.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N” she says when you get your own drink, and she pays for the both of you. “Wanna sit down for a bit?”

Of course, you want to know everything you can about Natasha. So you nod, and let her pick a table for you to sit.

“I’m really grateful”

“It’s what anyone…”

“Most people were running away from danger, not towards it. Especially for a stranger” she says, smiling.

You decide that you really like her smile.

“Well, most of my friends wouldn’t believe me if I told them it happened. I’m a pretty average person”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah” you shrug your shoulders.

“Tell me your favorite song” she asks suddenly and you roll your eyes. “What?”

“That’s such a generic question! I have tons of them, it depends on my mood”

“Favorite song to dance to while cleaning” Natasha asks again and this time you nod, thinking about it.

“The Piña Colada song” you say, trying not to laugh. “You?”

“Uhm… Bad Reputation” she confesses.

“Yeah, you look like a Joan Jett kind of girl”

“Is that good or bad?” Natasha arches her eyebrows, intrigued.

“It means you’re a badass and cool. I think, don’t take my word for it”

“No; I think I will”

You sip your drink, feeling intimidated by her intense stare.

“How did you find me?” you ask, remembering she only knew what you look like.

“It’s kind of my job to find people. What’s yours?”

“Something far less interesting” you deflect the question, but Natasha keeps looking at you. “Data analysis”

“Sounds important”

“It isn’t” you say, smiling. “Not as much as saving the world, at least”

You keep talking for a bit, until Natasha gets a call. That’s fine, you know how to take a hint.

While she’s talking, you go up to the counter and ask for another coffee and a sandwich.

“Are you still hungry? We can get something to eat” Natasha says, concerned. You find it endearing.

“No, it’s fine. Thanks for the coffee”

“I don’t think it’s enough to thank you”

“You really don’t have to”

“Let’s go to the movies another time. Would you like that?” Natasha says, smiling as you bite your lip.

“Yeah, ok”

“I think I should get your number, just in case”

You agree with a smile.

And after the short walk home, you hear your phone ping.

Natasha: Wednesday at 7?

Y/N: See you then :)

—

It’s strange, to develop a friendship with someone whose life is the opposite of yours.

Natasha always asks you things about yourself, things that you think are irrelevant. But maybe she does it because her work is all about secrets, and there’s not much to share on anything else.

“Did you go to prom?” she asks one night as you’re walking back to your apartment.

“Yeah, with my gay best friend. We were each other’s beards”

That makes Natasha laugh, but for some reason she tenses a second later, standing in front of you.

“Hey, Y/N” a man says, and you recognise the voice instantly. Your hand goes around Natasha’s wrist, sliding all the way to hold her hand. You squeeze once to let her know it’s ok, and the man in front of you is not a threat.

“Homer, hi” you greet the man who is usually living in abandoned buildings. “Did you get the clothes I left for you?”

“I did and I shared them with Pop, we’re nice and warm now”

“Alright, I’ll stop by later in the week with some food, ok?”

“Much appreciated. Have a good one, ladies”

He’s pretty harmless, but you understand that Natasha has to be on guard all the time.

“I’m sorry” she says, still holding your hand. “I tend to think the worst of people”

“From everyone? Including me?”

“Never you” she shakes her head. “You’re too kind”

“I’m just an average person” you repeat, the same way you’ve done your whole life.

“You’re wrong” Natasha says.

She doesn’t let go of your hand for the rest of the walk.

—

It’s been a few months since you started hanging out with Natasha. There are times when she’s away for days, or weeks, and you just know she’ll show up after the mission.

You’re always home and you’re always there to welcome her back.

A part of you is still playing dumb, but you know those lingering stares and small touches are becoming a problem. Each time, your heart beats faster, and you find that you spend more and more time wondering what it would be like to kiss her.

There’s gotta be a way to stop these foolish dreams, because Natasha is an agent, a trained spy, and a hero. You are a girl from the midwest, who moved to a big city and still gets lost in the subway from time to time.

Maybe spending less time together could be the solution, but it’s impossible for you to say no to her.

Which is why you’re waiting outside of the theater. You don’t really like ballet, or rather, it’s a little too sophisticated for your simple mind, but Natasha insisted on taking you, and buying you some fancy clothes.

It all sounds very nice, except she’s not here and you’re freezing, refusing to head inside until you see her.

Natasha’s phone is dead too.

After an hour, you convince yourself to head home, and call a cab. It’s too far away to walk with these heels that were also not your idea.

You stop by the café that you and Natasha like, ordering a hot cocoa for you and coffee and a sandwich for another woman who is usually sleeping in the streets.

“Looking like a million dollars” she says, accepting the food with a smile. “Did you have a good time?”

“No, not really. My friend didn’t show” you sigh.

“Is it the girl that follows you around everywhere like a lost puppy?”

You laugh at that. There’s no way the Black Widow acts like a lost puppy around you.

“You mean my friend Natasha? Yeah, she was probably busy with work”

“Her loss” the woman tsks.

“Well, here” you notice the air is cold and the woman’s gloves are basically shreds of fabric. “These will help”

“You’re a doll”

Another hour goes by and just as you’re about to leave and look for Natasha, she rushes to your door, knocking frantically.

“I’m sorry, mission ran long”

Of course you step aside to let her in, because you can never be mad at her for being busy saving the world. But still, you stay silent as you walk to the kitchen, knowing she’ll be right behind you.

“You’re mad at me, aren’t you? Of course, you have every right to be. I made you dress up and then stood you up…”

“Nat” you interrupt her, frowning. “I don’t care about that. I’m a big girl, I could have gone inside and enjoyed the show. I just…”

“What? What is it?”

“Well, I was really scared about you” you confess, turning your back to her. “I know enough about your job to understand it’s dangerous, and I just kept fearing the worst. Would it have been so difficult to text me to let me know you were ok?”

You finish your rant with a huff, crossing your arms and turning to look at her.

And Natasha is smiling.

“This isn’t funny”

“No, it’s not. You’re just cute even when you’re angry”

“Not the time to joke”

“Who said I’m joking?” she gets in your way when you try to leave the kitchen, thinking she’s being impossible.

“What are you doing?” you say when she leans forward, placing her hands on your arms.

“Just let me show you” she asks, and then you feel her lips on yours, kissing you slowly. Only when you place your hands on her neck, does she pull you by the waist and deepens the kiss.

“Why…”

“I don’t know if you know this, but I’m in love with you” she confesses when you break apart.

“But I’m just av…”

“Don’t say it” she pulls you against her, your noses inches apart. “The world can be a very bad place sometimes. And you have no idea how hard it is to find someone as kind as you”

“It’s nothing”

“It’s everything” she smiles, kissing you again. “Can I make it up to you for missing our date?”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach when she calls it a date. You nod, smiling.

“Same old dinner and movie plan?”

“Sounds perfect to me”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n

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niwaart · 2 days ago

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SEE WHAT I CAN DO.

NEGLECTED READER X BATFAM

<part1>

She looked at the big house in front of her Coldly , the mansion looked dark and scary from the outside, a nice man named Alfred greeted her, he told her that her father was busy but he would meet her for dinner, Alfred took her on a tour around the mansion, and showed her her new room, Alfred was the only one talking, Y/N didn't say a word, she just looked at the place coldly, what was her supposed reaction? Happiness? To hell with happiness, her mother passed away two days ago, and then she was dragged here according to what the police said that this is her father's house, the rich and spoiled man Bruce Wayne, she doesn't want to be here, she wants to stay in her mother's apartment, does she have to be 18 to be independent? This is unfair. Alfred was still babbling about where her room was and that Bruce's room was close by but what worried Y/N was how long it would take for him to shut up. After more than two hours of talking, Alfred took her to the kitchen and asked her if she wanted something to eat, Y/N shook her head no, she wasn't in the mood to eat. She stood up and went up to the second floor, to her new room, Alfred had put her bag in the room, she entered her room that she would not get used to, took her bag and started taking out her things and some of her mother's things, but what she was looking for was her mother's computer, she put it on the table and turned it on. Seeing the wallpaper of the main screen made her close her eyes trying to stop the tears, that was the first picture she took of her and her mother after buying the computer, she cursed Gotham and everyone in it for what happened to her mother, she did not care if Batman could not come in time, she did not care that he tried, the important thing is that he failed! He failed! A simple mission and he failed!! If he was a man, he would have come to her and apologized!! If he was a person with morals, he would have brought her mother's body to her!! But he is just a coward in black clothes.... Y/N took a deep breath, she has to calm down, this will not get her anywhere except a headache. She entered the password into the computer and started browsing the daily news like her daily routine before, the news of Gotham full of patients, there is nothing good in the news except the name of Bruce Wayne who does nothing but smile and throw his money, he says he helps and gives charity to those in need but Gotham is still poor and he is richer... His hand is useless, his words are unimportant, and his stupid ambitions are under his feet. Y/N sighed then closed the computer and lay down on her new bed, it is cold and she does not like that, she closed her eyes to sleep, she has to bear this place, maybe her situation is better than others, so staying silent and bearing it since no one bothers her is the best solution....

She woke up from the knock on the door, she looked around the room, she wished this was a dream and she would wake up in her old room… Alfred was outside asking if she was asleep or not, Y/N got up and opened the door, Alfred said that dinner was ready, and that Bruce… her father was waiting for her downstairs… Well, it was time to see the spoiled brat. Y/N followed Alfred down into the dining room, Alfred opened the door for her as he let her in. Y/N wouldn't say anything about her father's appearance, the same pictures she saw, the appearance of a rich boy, what was missing now was his stupid smile. Y/N sat at the table in front of him, Bruce was leading the table from the right, and Y/N was leading the table from the left, they were facing each other. Y/N didn't say hello or say anything, she was just silent, she wouldn't talk to this spoiled brat. Likewise, Bruce looked at her without saying a word, as if he was waiting for her to speak first, but that would not happen. Alfred, who saw this strange atmosphere, immediately began to serve dinner. Y/N looked at the food in front of her unwillingly. She had not eaten since morning, but she was not hungry. She took the glass of water and drank it. Alfred asked her if the food did not suit her, but Y/N was just silent, until the spoiled boy uttered his first words since she arrived. "Isn't it rude not to answer? Alfred has put his effort into preparing this dinner for you." Y/N looked at the spoiled boy who was supposed to be her father. All Y/N did was look at him coldly, not as if his words did anything to her. They all talk nonsense. No one says anything of value.

Alfred tried to lighten the mood by saying that it was okay, that the little miss might not be hungry now and that he would save the food for another time, and this silence continued until Bruce finished his meal and left, as for Y/N, she just looked at him coldly, and as soon as he left she got up and went back to her room, she decided to go back to sleep, there was nothing here worth staying awake for, and the next day she was feeling the effects of hunger, her body was heavy, and she was feeling a little dizzy, so she decided to make breakfast for her, this is her father's house right? So no one has the right to prevent her from using the kitchen, after washing her face and combing her hair she went downstairs and headed to the kitchen, it seems that Alfred is already awake, Y/N didn't care she wouldn't let an old man prevent her from entering the kitchen, and her cold entrance Alfred welcomed her, and asked her if she wanted anything but as expected Y/N didn't answer and just went to check what was inside the fridge, as expected, many things are in the kitchen, after all this is the house of the spoiled boy, she took the easiest thing for her, fruits, apples, oranges and strawberries, Alfred asked her if she was hungry and that he would make her breakfast but was met with silence again, Y/N washed the fruits and looked for the place where the knives usually are, she saw a knife on the table it looked clean so she didn't hesitate to take it and sat on the chair and started cutting, Alfred was hovering around her worried that she would hurt herself, after she finished cutting she started eating with satisfaction, Alfred put a glass of water for her and she didn't hesitated this time and drank it.

While she was eating the fruits, the spoiled boy decided to make another appearance. Alfred welcomed him and Bruce responded. Y/N didn't care about their conversation. In fact, Y/N found the spoiled boy's voice worse than his voice in news. She made a mental note to take her headphones with her the next time she left her room. Bruce sat next to her... not next to her but two chairs away from her, Alfred brought him coffee and breakfast, and the morning was silent like the previous night... and this continued throughout the week, she prepared the food herself, she didn't like it when someone other than her mother prepared food for her, so she wouldn't eat unless she prepared it, even if it was simple, and after a month or less since Y/N had been in the new place, the spoiled boy decided to adopt a child, a child who had lost his parents during a circus show, and bring him home, Y/N felt sorry for him, he had lost someone dear too, but these feelings had disappeared, and the reason for this was when Y/N tried to talk to him, Y/N hadn't spoken or spoken a single word since she had been in this house , and she wasn't planning to talk to the boy named Richard and she wouldn't be able to ease his pain, but she would understand him, she would support him, after all they had lost their family, Y/N sat next to him in the living room and she was holding in her hand a jigsaw puzzle, her mother had bought her for her fifth birthday, so She wanted to play this game with him, this game is silent, it doesn't need words, so it's very suitable for these times but as soon as she sat down and wanted to show him the game he jumped up and screamed like a madman saying "Don't come near me!! I have enough problems to go through by myself! Get away from me, you and your father! After all you are the daughter of a billionaire you won't understand anything, you live like a princess here!!" Y/N looked at him in shock, a princess? A billionaire's daughter? Y/N grabbed the puzzle box forcefully and angrily and slapped him in the face. What Y/N saw now, the boy's reaction was further proof that the people of Gotham are a bunch of filth, Richard stood in shock, holding his cheek, Y/N didn't care if it hurt or not and turned back to her room, there was one thing she would never forget from her mother, an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth, he wanted to confront her angrily, so she was going to confront him angrily too.

Chapter Two in about three days, do not hesitate to ask or request!

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red-phantom-0 · 2 days ago

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Part Three of Help Yourself

In the years 1947 - 1991 , The United States of America held a long , grueling political war with the Soviet Union, a war that caused massive propaganda to become widespread and ravaged the economic health of both countries. The American civilians of this era held great anxiety of the possible fear of America becoming a Communist state while America's government try to prepare themselves in facing a possible nuclear war. One of these preparations birthed project Widow.

Project Widow involved ten candidates at each succession , all from various ages , the oldest a child can be was eight years of age project started. All ten candidates were selected based on several profiling traits : having been orphaned , no genetic defaults , perfect health , good communications skills & the ability to adapt to a situation quickly.

The Widow program trained these ten candidates to the age of thirteen , candidates are drugged for the first years of the program- to remove any and all influence of the outside world and instructors were told to 'bond' with them . During this fragile time , candidate are taught to die serving the government is the best honor one could have - candidates are groomed to serve their government with outmost loyalty.

Their tween years are spent honing their skills - brutal training begins - and separates the weak from the strong . Candidates found failing more than three tests are disposed off immediately . Candidates are put in various simulated scenarios ranging from drowning in one's own blood to being beaten to death . Candidates are taught to be prepared for anything no matter what.

At ages thirteen comes the biggest test in every candidate's life - the test of choice . Each candidate is given a choice - save a child and kill their mother or kill the child and save their mother . In the event a candidate hesitates in this exam , they would be disposed off immediately , if the candidate chooses wrong , the candidate would have one of their eyes removed - a symbol of failure and would be shunned for the rest of their training . Only when the candidate makes the right choice - the candidate can finally graduate - becoming the symbol , a beacon of hope for their beloved country . Although the political war has ' long ended ' due to a 'peace treaty' , the government still funds this wonderful project in the hopes of creating strong soldiers .

Though over the years the graduating candidates has slimmed drastically , many successions leading often to zero graduating candidates . The government pushed harder - the desperate need for a Widow is even stronger as powerful parties such as , the Justice league , were becoming powerful and popular rapidly. Their control slipping . Thankfully , in 2015 , one successful candidate graduated with extraordinary results , earning them the title , ' Widow '

¢σηgяαтυℓαтισηѕ ηαмє ση вє¢σмιηg ωι∂σω , тнє gσνєяηмєηт ℓσσкѕ ƒσяωαя∂ тσ уσυя ѕєяνι¢є.

Choked sobs echo through the desolate alleyway , the man coughs and chokes on his own spit as he desperately cries out in anguish. The attacker is relentless as she presses her sword deeper into the man's back , his crimson blood spilling over himself and her black stilettoes.

"Spill " she demands him , eyes fixated on his anguished face - eagerly waiting for him to break - just like how a spider watches in careful , planned patience as the bug entangles himself in her web. " I-I don't know what you are talking about ! " The man pleads. She smiles as she pierces her sword right through him - the man screams loudly - his body immediately flails about in response , her sword lodges itself even deeper.

" If you speak I will help you " she offers readily , her helmet hides her greedy smile and eyes filled with promised death . " It's the Joker - he - he was the one that ordered me to take those files , I-I swear " the man manages to choke up. She only hums in response and crouches down to him , meeting him and eye level , " Thank you " she murmurs too softly . The man was taken aback but feels himself feeling at ease maybe she would help him after all - was his last and only though before she slices his head off his body in practiced poise.

She stands up to her full height and begins to sheathe her sword , " The government thanks you for your service " she murmurs like a practice prayer. Like the black widow , she too leaves her mangled prey on the web as a pretty display as disappears away into he bleak abyss of Gotham awaiting for her next prey.

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

Tysm for the support

comments and likes are appreciated !!❤️

Taglist : @bat1212 @simpingpandas @welpthisisboring

HELP YOURSELF

summary : in a family filled with intriguing members of their own right , duke has a particular interest in a certain vigilante in the family that everyone seems to overlook . this interest leads to the family to spiral into obsession .

When he was first introduce to the Wayne family , Duke was overwhelmed , everyone was so talented , so special and unique and came from such - complex backgrounds , it was hard to ever find something or anyone dull in the family . Duke had his highs with the family - from patrol , to movie nights every Saturday , food fights on Monday mornings because of course Jason had to rile up Damian but he had his lows - particularly the fact that he was the only sole meta in the family .

Something so minute shouldn't affect him , I mean come on isn't badass that he's in a family that can accomplish so much with sheer willpower without powers ? Though , it hurts every time he sees Conner teach Jon how to use his super strength without hurting himself in the process . He seethes in envy every time he witnesses it because he swears it ensnares him in a painful grasp - reminding him that he's the bystander in this family and that he's the only odd one out.

He shakes away the chill that runs up his spine and returns his focus back to the scene in front of him , a young woman is desperately trying to yank her purse away from some lacky burglar. ' Easy' Duke thinks to himself as he effortlessly swoops down from the rooftop he is perched on and landed on the thug . " Leave this poor woman alone " Duke commands as he pressed his legs onto the burglar's back. The burglar growls and pushes himself off the floor - practically making the woman scream . Duke immediately goes to jump away and reassess the situation when the burglar spins around inhumanely fast mid air to face the vigilante .

Bewilderment and confusion was all Duke felt but regardless he goes to land a sucker punch to the burglar's mask face when suddenly the burglar takes out a bomb from his inner pocket and throws it at the woman behind them. The woman screams as the bomb makes a beeline towards her and Duke wants to scream in frustration at how utterly stupid she's being and the fact that the burglar has outplayed him.

Suddenly , a figure clad in black with red accents jumps in front of the lady and catches the bomb effortlessly and throws it aside like it was nothing. Duke takes this time to sucker punch the burglar into the floor while he was distracted with the bomb's dentation , causing the man to groan in pain . While Duke is handcuffing the burglar , he eyes the figure in the corner of his eye handing the woman her purse before approaching him.

" Thank you ..... " Duke trails off as he watches the figure properly . He notes that they adorn a black body suit but has a red spider symbol in front near their chest . They adorn black helmet that covers the entirety of their face , only showing the user's dark brown eyes.

"Widow "the figure answers before leaping away from Duke . " Wait ! Who are you , I've never met you before !" exclaims as he extends his hand in attempt to reach out to them . " Just stay safe kid you don't know what you're doing " the figure says , directing a glare at him before they vanish.

That afternoon , Duke returns back to the mansion , he slumps against the kitchen table , the weight of patrolling all day and the situation of meeting a strange entity named ' Widow'. Alfred gently pats him on the back and serves him a plate of snadwhiches.

" I take it that today's patrol was exhausting Master Duke" , Alfred asks him as he begins to wash up wares in the kitchen. " You have no idea , met some weirdo who called me a kid like what the hell " , Duke complains as he takes a bite of the sandwich . " Weirdo ?" Alfred questions as he dries a plate. " Yeah some named Widow " Duke replies . Alfred drops the plate.

He feels every muscle on his body tense at the mention of her name , a name that may have been a bygone memory to many but not to him never him . Duke scrambles out of his chair and approaches Alfred . " Hey are you okay ?" Duke asks as he holds the elderly man by the hands. Alfred tries - he tries to talk but is too shocked to say anything - he fears this is a dream , a cruel dream that god bestowed upon him as a punishment - a reminder of his failure .

"Widow - are you sure they said Widow ?" Alfred asks the boy frantically , panic old eyes watching Duke's intently. Duke stumbles back but answers , " Yeah that's what they said why does it matter ?" . Pin drop silence fills the manor as Alfred registers Duke's words. Alfred crouches to the ground , his hands run along the jargoned edges of the broken plate - the rough feeling grounds him , reminding him that all of this is real .

" It matters because that is your sister young master " Alfred forces out. Silence consumes them again . " What ?" Duke questions as he holds onto Alfred tighter. For the five years he has lived with the Waynes - no one never mentioned a Widow or a sister not ever so why is it now that he finds out that he has a sister and one that he has not heard or known about.

Alfred can feel warm hot tears running down his worn cheeks as nostalgic memories of him making a younger you a hot chocolate in the afternoon as you sit in the same chair as Duke had , coloring whilst simply blabbering about your day. He recalls how every night , he can feel your tiny figure sneaking into his bed to hug him with your stuffed bunny You were practically his daughter .

He also remembers that you weren't particularly liked by the Wayne family , at the time only consisted of himself and Bruce - a younger much fragile Bruce that had no idea how to raise a kid - a kid that was just put into his custody because their parents got too drugged up and k*lled themselves in the living room.

The situation wasn't ideal , Bruce was immature , till learning how to navigate his own feelings , his own anger , his own loss and so were you , a small , fragile thing that didn't quite yet understand why mommy and daddy were being put in a box .

He also remembers that tragic day - the day he lost you - . It was like any ordinary day , he dropped you off at kindergarten and watched you run to your teacher , excitedly showing her a drawing you made. He watches you smile and wave him goodbye as the teacher escorts you to your classroom. Alfred does what he usually does , returns back home and begin his preparations when he receives a call from your teacher . He remembers the dread , the sheer panic , the bone chilling anxiety that consumed him when he picked up that call to hear your teacher utter the words

" two government officials barged in class around recess and they took ( name ) I'm so sorry I tried to stop them - tried to grab the tiny thing but they had her really tight and - and they left "

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bytemee · 1 day ago

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EVERYTHING I WANT — yu jimin.

"i had finally figured out, you were just around the corner."

synopsis. you’re just the wedding planner for your brother’s wedding, trying to keep it all together. but karina, his fiancée, keeps slipping under your skin. she’s perfect—everything you’ve ever wanted—but she’s marrying your brother.

pairing. brothers!fiance!karina x wedding!planner!fem!reader

warning(s). angst w a mixture of fluff, love triangle, cheating (im sorry), angst with a happy ending.

words. 5.7k

authors note. i remember watching a gay movie like this.

navigation. main masterlist.

karina has a way of capturing the attention of everyone in a room, and her presence alone is enough to make the world pause. she walks in, all bright eyes and effortless grace, and somehow the entire room shifts to accommodate her. it’s almost like she belongs in a space much grander than this, but then, that’s karina—always radiant, always a little untouchable.

you’ve noticed it countless times before—it's part of the reason why your parents are so calm with the idea of your brother marrying her only months after they've met. karina—your brother’s fiancée, the one they think is perfect in every way. karina—the one who is everything they always hoped for in a partner for him. karina—the one who practically begged you to plan her wedding.

you have to admit, they make a beautiful couple. the way karina and your brother stand in the kitchen, laughing over something she said while she chops vegetables, her hands moving easily, like she’s done this a hundred times. your brother’s smiling at her like she’s the only person in the world. it’s all so natural, so effortless. you can’t deny that they love each other—it’s one of those things you just know. like the feeling of the ground beneath your feet or the wind against your skin. it’s just a fact.

it was the first time in a while you've been to their house, but your brother practically forced you into staying at his while you planned the wedding. they don't seem to mind, which is probably good considering you've taken over the living room as a workspace, with papers and decorations and fabric samples spread out across the coffee table and the couch.

but regardless, the two haven't decided on a venue yet, so the planning process is still in full swing. you had a list of about five venues you thought were promising, and you were hoping they'd settle on one soon so you could stop having to lug around your binder everywhere.

karina finishes up her task and sets the knife down, washing her hands off before she turns to you.

she walks over with that signature smile of hers, the one that makes everything seem like it’s shining just a little brighter. “hey, can we talk about the venue options for a sec?” she asks, her voice smooth like velvet, like it always is.

you glance up from the pile of papers in front of you, your gaze meeting hers for a second too long. the way she’s standing there, close enough to reach out and touch, makes it hard to focus. you blink, trying to get your head back in the game. “uh, yeah, sure. what’s on your mind?”

she leans against the back of the couch, her arms crossing lightly over her chest. “i know we’ve got some good options, but…” she hesitates for a moment, as if carefully considering her next words. “i’ve always wanted a wedding on the beach. you know, like those dreamy ones you see in magazines?”

you freeze for a moment, your fingers lingering over the corner of your binder. the beach. you can’t help the pang that hits you when she says it, because it's something you've always imagined for your own wedding one day, not anyone else’s. it’s silly, of course—you shouldn't have gotten so attached to a fantasy. but you can't help it. you'd always imagined a wedding on the beach, with the sun setting over the waves and sand beneath your feet.

she tilts her head a little, as if trying to figure out what's wrong. when you don't say anything, she speaks again, her tone more gentle. "are you okay?"

you try to shake it off, but karina always seems to notice everything. it's a little bit impressive, really. "oh, i'm fine. just a little tired." you quickly speak again before she can question you further. “you know, your fiancé’s pretty set on that greenhouse. it’s a pretty big deal for him.”

she nods, a small frown tugging at her lips. “i know,” she says softly. “i just can’t help but dream of the beach.” she pauses, then her eyes soften, and she adds with a little more playfulness, "i’ll let you handle the tough decisions. you’re the expert here, after all.”

you hate to let her down, but the odds of convincing your brother to change his mind are low. the greenhouse was his idea, and it means a lot to him, since your father married your mom there years ago. he had talked about wanting to recreate that day, the way the light filtered in through the glass, the flowers all around. his eyes had sparkled as he spoke, like he could imagine the entire scene unfolding before him. you couldn’t bring yourself to say no, not when he had been so excited.

you give a small laugh. “i’m just the wedding planner. you’re the one who has to live with the choice.”

she grins at you before walking away.

but even though you tell yourself it won't be your fault if she doesn't get her dream wedding, the guilt doesn't go away. you just hope she won't hate you for not being able to deliver the perfect day she's been waiting for.

you watch as she heads back over to the kitchen, your gaze lingering on her a little longer than it should. her smile is bright as ever, the one you're not sure you've ever seen her without, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

you swallow, then return to your work.

the venue. you can't get distracted. you're good at your job. you can do this.

the next few days pass in a flurry of phone calls and emails, and you're barely keeping track of which venue you're supposed to be going to see next. you've visited a handful, but it seems like they've all had the same issue—they don't have the space for the kind of wedding karina's dreaming of.

the pressure is starting to wear on you. you’ve been juggling so many details, from flowers to photographers to caterers, but every venue just feels off in one way or another. some are too big, some too small. others don’t have the kind of beachy vibe karina’s been dreaming of, and you can tell she’s starting to get a little discouraged.

you can see the way her shoulders slump when another place doesn’t meet her expectations, the way she tries to mask her disappointment with that perfect smile of hers. it’s hard to watch. but you also know this is her dream, her wedding. she deserves to have everything she’s envisioned for years.

“i swear, if i see one more ballroom…” you mutter under your breath, flipping through another round of emails, trying to see if any of the new suggestions could work.

karina, seated across from you in the café, lets out a small laugh. “you’re telling me. but we’ve got to keep looking, right?”

you look up, meeting her gaze for the first time in a while. she looks exhausted, her makeup a little faded from a long day of venue tours, but her smile is as warm as ever. it makes your heart ache.

you swallow, then turn back to your phone. "yeah. yeah, we do." you take a sip of your drink, not even removing your eyes from the screen. "i've been hearing a lot of good things about this one place, though."

karina leans forward, her elbows resting on the table. "which one?"

but before you can reply, a giggle leaves her lips, and she points to the side of your nose. "oh my god, you've got whipped cream on your nose. let me…"

her hand reaches out, and then she's touching you, her thumb brushing over the tip of your nose, sending shivers down your spine. she pulls her hand back, a little whipped cream on her thumb.

she smiles. "got it."

you blink, and your brain short-circuits for a second. her touch was so fleeting, but the warmth lingers.

she doesn't notice, already turned back to your phone ready to see the venue you were muttering about.

you exhale. the venue. right. focus.

and then, it happens.

when you get back home, an hour later you hear it from the other room—a loud argument, your brother's voice booming, and karina's pleading for him to just listen. your eyes widen. you'd never heard her raise her voice like that before.

they’ve always been so perfect together, but now, the disagreement over the wedding venue seems to be pushing things too far. you can’t make out the exact words, but you catch a few—the beach, the greenhouse, and your name a couple of times. the door slams shortly after, and everything falls silent.

you glance at the door leading to the hallway, torn between going to see what’s going on and staying out of it. the last thing you want is to get caught in the middle of their argument, but part of you can't help but feel concerned. this isn’t like them—karina, always the picture of composure, and your brother, usually so patient. it doesn’t add up.

you hear footsteps and then a quiet knock at the door. "are you awake?"

you take a deep breath. "yeah, come in."

the door opens, and karina walks in, looking as stunning as ever. her face is still flushed from the argument, but her hair is swept to the side, the light catching on her earrings. even in a moment like this, she's effortlessly beautiful.

"hey," you say softly, motioning toward the couch. "are you okay?"

she sits down beside you, her body relaxing a little, like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. she nods, taking a deep breath before speaking. "i'm fine. we're fine."

you tilt your head, not fully believing her. you've been friends for years, after all. you can tell when she's holding something back. "are you sure? because i heard—"

"we're fine," she repeats, a little more firmly.

you nod, but you still feel unsure. it's clear they need some time to themselves, and you can't force her to tell you what's going on. “you know,” you say, shifting beside her, “if you need a break, we could do something completely different. a distraction. a moment just for you.”

she looks at you, eyes wide, clearly intrigued by the offer. “like what?”

a slow grin spreads across your face. “let’s get food for starters. and then…"

she cuts you off before you can finish. "as long as it involves wine, i'm in."

the smile is back, and your heart aches with it. you've missed seeing her smile, the way her eyes crinkle at the edges, her whole body seeming lighter. it's a feeling you never want to let go of.

without missing a beat, you get up and grab your keys. “perfect. let's go!"

you hold your hand out, and her fingers are warm in yours as you lead her out the door.

the two of you end up parked in front of a small, neon-lit burger joint tucked away on a quiet street. it’s one of those old-school places with a bright red roof and a hand-painted menu board by the drive-thru. it looks like it hasn't changed much since it was built decades ago, but that's exactly why you love it.

karina’s sitting cross-legged in the passenger seat, the bottle of wine you impulsively grabbed resting between you. you’d managed to snag a couple of burgers and fries to go, and now the two of you are tucked away in the car, sharing fries like you’re the only people in the world.

“this is so random,” she says, laughing softly. she’s still got a bit of a flush from earlier—whether from the wine or the argument, you’re not sure. but for now, you try not to think about it. you don't want to ruin the moment.

“that’s what makes it perfect,” you reply, passing her a fry. she takes it with a smile, your fingers brushing briefly. your heart trips over itself at the contact, and you reach for the bottle of wine to take another sip. it’s not the fanciest vintage, but it’s doing the job.

karina takes the bottle next, swiping at the neck before drinking straight from it. when she lowers it, her eyes are sparkling with something mischievous. “i always liked the idea of writing my vows on something unconventional,” she says suddenly, resting her head against the seat. “like in the movies. you know, scribbled on the back of a napkin or a burger wrapper. something spontaneous and real.”

you can’t help but laugh. “we’ve got burger wrappers right here.”

her eyes light up. “you’re kidding.”

“i’m not.”

she sets down the bottle and grabs the crumpled wrappers from the bag. “alright. let’s do it. right here, right now. our mock wedding.”

you raise an eyebrow. this was not how you thought the night was going to go, but then again, karina has always been full of surprises. she looks so excited at the idea; you can't bring yourself to say no. you're already in this deep, after all.

you grab a pen from the glove compartment, the tipsy energy between you growing contagious. you hand it over, and karina carefully smooths out one of the wrappers on her lap.

“alright,” she declares, biting back a grin. “i vow to always share my fries with you. even the crispy ones.”

you snort. “that’s a big promise.”

“and i vow to never judge you for eating burgers at midnight,” she adds, her grin widening.

“okay, my turn,” you say, leaning in. “i vow to always keep you stocked up on wine and burgers. and fries. all the good stuff. just in case of an emergency, of course. or for a spontaneous road trip. whichever comes first, i guess."

you're both giggling, and then her smile softens. she looks at you with those eyes, and for a moment, the rest of the world falls away. then her expression shifts. she takes a deep breath, fingers toying with the pen. “one more,” she says, her voice quieter now. “i vow to always be someone you can turn to, no matter what. even when things get messy or complicated.”

her eyes are still on yours, and you can't bring yourself to break the contact. you feel like the air has been knocked out of your lungs, and it's almost too much, too fast.

you finally manage to get the words out, your voice coming out a little strained. "i promise too."

karina smiles softly, reaching over to brush a strand of hair from your face. “let’s go somewhere,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

“where?” you ask, still breathless.

she glances at the horizon, where the stars are just beginning to scatter across the night sky. “the beach.”

without another word, you put the car in drive and head toward the coast. the streets are quiet, the hum of the tires against the road the only sound as the town fades behind you. it feels like the rest of the world doesn’t exist—just you, karina, and the open road.

when you arrive, the beach is deserted, bathed in moonlight and the soft crashing of waves. you both kick off your shoes and walk toward the shoreline, the sand cool beneath your feet. karina stops just shy of the water, turning to face you.

“alright,” she says, holding out her hand. “let’s make this official.”

you laugh, taking her hand. “this is the most spontaneous fake wedding i’ve ever been a part of.”

her grin is wide, a little wild, like she’s already planning something outrageous. “just wait until our real wedding. then it’ll really be a show.”

the words hit you harder than expected—our real wedding. your mind flashes with an image: karina walking down the aisle, her dress swishing with every elegant step, her smile lighting up the whole room.

karina squeezes your hand gently, bringing you back to reality. "are you ready?"

you give her a tiny nod. “i’m ready.”

she turns to face you, her smile dimming just enough to make the moment feel serious. she takes a steadying breath before starting. “i vow to always share my fries with you—even the crispy ones.”

you grin. "i vow to not get jealous when you share your fries with someone else."

"that's a fair point." she pauses for a moment, glancing at the moon overhead. when she speaks again, her voice is softer. "i vow to not forget about all the nights we've stayed up talking, the sun just starting to rise, and how i could listen to your voice forever. and i vow to always be someone you can count on, no matter what."

her words make your heart ache. you swallow, trying to push down the feeling. "i vow to never give up, even when things get tough. even when everything's changing around us. and i vow to always be a place you can run to."

the words hang between you for a moment, and you feel like the whole world has stopped. everything feels surreal, like a dream, the kind you're afraid of waking up from. then she steps closer, so close you can feel the warmth radiating off her. her next words are softer, more serious, the playfulness stripped away. “do you vow to take me to the best burger joints at midnight?”

your voice is quieter now too. “i do.”

“do you vow to share your fries with me, even the crispy ones?”

“i do.”

she takes a small, shaky breath, her gaze locked on yours. “and do you vow to always be my friend? to stand by me, even when things get hard or messy?”

your throat tightens, but somehow you manage to speak. “i do.”

karina’s lips twitch, but she doesn’t smile fully. there's something vulnerable in her expression, like she's revealing a piece of herself she's never shown before. "do you promise to always remember tonight? how special this moment is?"

"i do."

she nods, her eyes shining. "good. because i do, too."

her gaze drops to your lips, and you realize what she's doing a second too late. before you can even process what's happening, her mouth is on yours, warm and soft and sweet. it's the kind of kiss you feel all the way down to your toes, the kind that makes the rest of the world disappear.

it's everything and nothing all at once.

then the moment passes, and she's pulling away, a little breathless. "i'm sorry. i just…"

you blink, trying to find the right words, but nothing comes out.

she swallows, then steps back, her cheeks flushed. "i'm sorry, i don't know what came over me. that was stupid. we should go."

she turns and walks off, her footsteps echoing through the darkness. you watch her leave, not daring to say anything, because if you speak, you'll break the spell. you'll wake up from this dream, and it'll all be gone, and this moment will be lost forever.

karina speedwalks to your car, her ears hot and her head spinning. what the hell did i just do? she opens the car door and climbs in, her body feeling weightless. the kiss was an impulse, a split-second decision, and now she's left wondering why the hell she thought it was a good idea.

you get in the car a moment later, your expression unreadable. you're silent for a few beats, then you clear your throat. "here take my jacket," you say, reaching over to drape it around her shoulders. "you look cold."

her chest tightens. of course, you're being kind and sweet. god, why did she have to ruin the moment?

she takes the jacket, but it does nothing to warm the chill that's seeped into her bones. she's so confused. one minute, she's getting engaged, and the next, she's kissing you, the one person who's never given her a reason to doubt. she feels like she's falling apart, piece by piece.

"let's get you home," you say quietly, starting the car.

karina nods, her eyes focused on the window. the rest of the ride is silent, neither of you daring to say a word.

a month passed since that night—the kiss that left you spinning and karina’s unexpected confession. you’d both fallen into a strange rhythm after that. conversations were shorter, more careful, as if the words had to be handled with gloves. and though things seemed okay on the surface, there was a distance that neither of you knew how to bridge.

she was still okay with the greenhouse. you’d finalized every last detail together, but it felt like neither of you were talking about what really mattered. instead, you both threw yourselves into the wedding planning like it was the only way to keep moving forward.

it was just after midnight when you found yourself back in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water. it had been a long day, and your mind was still racing. you stood there for a while, sipping slowly, mind wandering.

the front door creaked open. your brother stumbled in, his suit rumpled, tie hanging loosely around his neck. his eyes were bloodshot, and he reeked of whiskey and something faintly floral—perfume. you could guess what had happened.

“company celebration,” he muttered, not meeting your eyes. “big news… big, big news.”

you wrapped an arm around him and helped him upstairs. he leaned on you heavily, his usually confident demeanor dulled by the alcohol. when you sat him down on the edge of your bed, you noticed it—lipstick stains on the collar of his shirt, faint but undeniable.

your stomach twisted. you swallowed hard, forcing the lump in your throat down. it was none of your business. after all, she cheated as well...with you.

after he passed out, you quietly shut the door and went back downstairs. there was no sleep to be found, not when your thoughts were tangled in the events of what's happened over the past three months—the kiss, karina’s sudden agreement to the greenhouse wedding, the lipstick stains. it was too much.

you sat at the dining room table and pulled out your laptop. the wedding planning documents filled the screen, emails flooding in with suggestions and changes. you worked mindlessly, letting the repetition of it all keep your thoughts at bay.

the hours bled into one another, and before you knew it, pale sunlight was breaking through the windows. your eyes burned, your muscles ached, but you couldn’t stop.

footsteps behind you made you freeze.

karina.

her hair was a mess of loose waves, and she wore one of those oversized pajama shirts she loved. she had two mugs of coffee in hand, the familiar scent of hazelnut filling the room. without a word, she placed one in front of you.

“you’ve been up all night,” she said quietly.

“i had things to do,” you answered, not meeting her eyes.

karina sighed, taking in the dark circles under your eyes and the tension in your shoulders. “you’re burning yourself out.”

when you didn’t say anything, she walked around the table and stood behind you. her hands found your shoulders, fingers pressing gently into the knots there. she massaged in slow circles, her thumbs working out the tightness you hadn’t even noticed.

her voice was soft as she spoke, barely more than a whisper. "you should get some sleep. you can't keep doing this."

but you were too tired, too worn down, to respond. you couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of her hands on your shoulders, the warmth of her touch sinking into your skin.

she leaned down, her breath tickling your ear. "can we talk?"

"yeah," you managed.

karina let go and moved to the seat across from you. she looked like she was struggling with something, the same look from the night at the beach, when she had asked you to promise her to remember. her fingers tapped on the mug. you could tell she was stalling, trying to decide what to say, but eventually, the words came.

"i'm sorry."

you were sorry too. for so many things, but you didn't say them out loud. instead, you just nodded.

"i never meant for this to happen," she said. "but it's all getting a little too much."

you were exhausted. tired of everything—the wedding, the kiss, the feelings. tired of being the planner. tired of pretending everything was fine when it wasn't.

karina's gaze dropped to her hands, her voice small. "i didn't mean to make things weird between us. i just didn't know what to do."

"it's okay," you replied, because it was all you could say.

"it's not," she insisted. "you're my best friend. i don't want to lose that."

she was right. you were her best friend. she was supposed to be marrying your brother, not making out with you at midnight. the thought sent a shiver down your spine.

"we'll get through this. together." you tried to sound convincing, but it fell flat.

"will we?" her voice was barely audible. "you've been pushing me away for weeks. i can tell."

you shook your head, but it was pointless. the truth was staring you in the face, and it wasn't pretty.

karina sighed, her gaze lifting from the table to meet yours. "i'm sorry. i don't want things to be awkward between us. i don't want this to change things."

her eyes were filled with such honesty and vulnerability, it made your chest ache. you wanted to reach out, hold her, and reassure her that everything was going to be okay, but you couldn't. you couldn't bring yourself to lie.

you rubbed your hands over your face, trying to ease the tension building behind your eyes. the words were stuck, clawing at your throat, desperate to escape. but what could you say?everything was so tangled.

“i’m not pushing you away,” you finally managed, though it felt hollow. “i just… don’t know how to handle all this.”

she gave you a weak smile, but her eyes were still sad.

the silence stretched between you, growing heavier with each passing moment. neither of you knew what to say.

“i don’t want to hurt you,” she said suddenly, her voice trembling.

your stomach twisted, and you had to look away. “you’re not hurting me.”

it was a lie, and you both knew it. but what good would the truth do?

karina sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. she looked exhausted, like she hadn’t slept in days. maybe she hadn’t. “i just want us to be okay. like before.”

“before,” you repeated, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. before everything. before the kiss. before you saw your brother stumble in last night, lipstick stains betrayed his lies.

she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "yeah, before. like we promised in our vows."

you let out a breath. was she really bringing this up now? "our fake vows."

karina flinched, as if your words had physically struck her. she looked at you, her eyes pleading. "you promised to always remember that night. that's not nothing."

you closed your eyes, trying to block out the memory. it was a mistake. a stupid, impulsive decision. one you shouldn't have made. one you shouldn't be thinking about.

"look, it's fine. we'll just forget it ever happened. like we're supposed to."

"are we?"

you stared at her, your throat tightening. "yes. because that's what's best. for everyone."

she swallowed, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. "okay. if that's what you want."

"it is." the words were heavy, weighing on your chest, crushing the air from your lungs.

"alright. then i guess we should go back to planning."

she forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. the conversation was over.

and that was it. you tried not to think about the kiss or the way her hand had felt in yours. but the memories lingered, refusing to let go.

the day of the wedding arrived. you stood at the back of the greenhouse, feeling out of place as the carefully chosen flowers, delicate white drapes, and twinkling fairy lights filled the space with a sense of serenity that felt foreign to you. everything about this moment was supposed to be beautiful, perfect, just as your brother had imagined. but you couldn’t shake the unease that knotted in your stomach.

the ceremony was supposed to feel like a celebration, a milestone in their lives. but it wasn’t. the sight of your brother, standing at the altar with the priest, waiting for karina, made something inside you tighten. he was smiling, his hands clasped together in anticipation. but the thought of him with her—knowing everything that had happened between the two of you—suddenly felt wrong. not to mention what he did himself.

and then, she appeared.

karina entered, her arm linked with your father’s, walking down the aisle with the grace of someone who belonged in a dream. the flowing ivory gown clung to her figure in a way that made your breath catch. the soft music playing in the background seemed to fade as you watched her approach, unable to tear your eyes away.

her gaze flickered to you for the briefest of moments. it was only a glance, but it held so much. the quiet acknowledgment that things weren’t the way they were supposed to be. that this wasn’t how it was supposed to feel.

you could barely breathe. you had promised to be strong, to be there for her. but seeing her like this, walking down the aisle toward your brother, was impossible. all the promises you had made, all the words you had told her in the days leading up to this, suddenly felt so hollow. she wasn’t yours. she never had been, and yet, everything inside you screamed that she should be.

you couldn’t stay.

without thinking, you turned and quietly slipped out of the greenhouse, avoiding the curious glances of your family. the sounds of the ceremony, the murmurs of the guests, faded as you walked, faster and faster, until you were outside, out of the view of the guests, heading straight for the beach.

the water was cool, the sand soft beneath your feet, the gentle breeze soothing. but it wasn't enough. you could still feel the ache in your chest, the heaviness that had settled there the moment you saw karina walking down the aisle.

you had been so certain that you could do this, that you could keep your promise and be there for her, no matter what. but now, standing on the beach, the waves washing over your feet, you realize how foolish it had been to think that.

you sank to the sand, burying your face in your hands. how had things gotten this far? how had everything become so tangled, so complicated, so fast? and why did it feel like your heart was being torn in two?

you were torn in so many directions, your mind spinning with thoughts of karina, of the kiss, of your brother, and of everything that had led to this moment. you wanted to scream, to let the confusion and frustration pour out of you, but you couldn’t. you couldn’t make sense of it all.

everything felt like it was unraveling, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. the hurt, the guilt, the love that you couldn’t seem to let go of—it all washed over you, suffocating you. you loved her. you had always loved her, but it was wrong. she was marrying your brother. it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you weren’t supposed to be the one to feel this way.

but the feeling was there, as real as the sand beneath your feet and the wind against your skin. you couldn't deny it, no matter how hard you tried.

"y/n."

your heart skipped a beat. you looked up, and there she was, standing at the edge of the sand. karina, still in her wedding dress, the fabric flowing around her as she stepped toward you, barefoot.

"y/n," she repeated, her voice soft, almost pleading.

you were frozen, unable to move, unable to speak. your throat tightened; the words stuck.

“what are you doing here?” you managed to ask, your voice wavering.

“i couldn’t let you go,” she said, her voice breathless. “i can’t let you walk away from me. not like this.”

you stood up, unsure of what to say, but before you could form any words, karina was running toward you, her wedding dress trailing behind her. she didn’t stop until she was right in front of you, her hands trembling as she reached for yours.

"i can’t marry him," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "not when i feel like this. not when it’s you i want."

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. your mind raced. "karina, this isn’t—"

"i don’t care," she interrupted. "i can’t pretend anymore. i’m sorry. i should’ve told you sooner. i should’ve never let you go, even when i knew how wrong it was. but i can’t marry him when i’m in love with you."

you blinked, staring at her. in love with you. she was in love with you. the words echoed in your head, and you couldn't find the strength to speak.

"y/n, please. say something."

karina’s face crumpled, and she stepped closer, her hands trembling as she cupped your face. “please,” she whispered, “don’t let me lose you. you're everything i want."

her touch was warm, and you couldn't help but lean into it. she was so close, and you could feel her heartbeat, her breathing, her warmth. it was intoxicating, and before you knew what you were doing, your lips met hers, gentle and tender, as if she was afraid of breaking you.

but you couldn't break. not when she was kissing you like this. not when her lips were so soft, and her arms were around your waist, pulling you closer. it felt like the world was shifting, the ground giving way beneath your feet. but she was there, holding onto you, her grip tight and desperate, like she was afraid of losing you.

the kiss deepened, and everything else fell away. all you could feel was her. all you could think about was how right it felt, how perfect it was, and how this was the moment you had been waiting for. you were home, in her arms, and nothing else mattered.

the kiss broke, and karina pulled back, her breathing ragged. her eyes were bright, full of emotion, and you knew yours were the same.

"i love you," she whispered, her voice cracking. "i love you, and i'm sorry i didn't realize it sooner."

the words washed over you, and for the first time, everything felt right.

"i love you too," you breathed, not caring that it was wrong or that you shouldn't be saying it. you couldn't stop yourself, and the feeling of finally letting the words out was overwhelming. "you're everything i want…and more."

her eyes widened, and then a smile tugged at her lips, wide and bright, as if the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders. she kissed you again, fierce and passionate, and you could feel her joy, her relief, her love. it was the kind of kiss that made your heart swell, that made you feel like you were floating, and nothing could ever come between you.

"i'm yours," she whispered against your lips, her voice breaking. "i'll always be yours."

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crushoncaleb · 3 days ago

Text

Be my valentine

Rafayel x reader

Fluff

1.4k words

You try to ask Rafayel to be your valentine. The keyword is try.

A/N. First time I have written something for a holiday or event and actually managed to post it in time! Basically, I couldn't sleep, and Rafayel possessed me. Hope y'all enjoy!

Is this...rejection?

You'd spent some time planning it, even bribed Thomas to get Rafayel the day off. But when you and Rafayel arrived at your usual spot at the beach. He didn't seem to take note of the seagulls at all.

The seagulls you had somehow managed to train into landing in the right order so the letters you stuck to them would ask him to be your valentine. Now, you'd be the first to admit, the whole plan was a little crazy, but with your and Rafayel's history and connection to the seagulls choir, you'd thought it would be cute.

If it had been any more subtle, you might've believed he genuinely missed it. But it's quite hard to believe someone like Rafayel would not see the literal seagull choir the two of you were here to visit. So naturally, you had to assume he was letting you down easy.

Even being let down easy hurt. It completely blindsided you. You were absolutely certain something had been brewing between you and the artist. Hell, last time you'd spent time with him after wearing new perfume, he'd spent about an hour shoving his face against you to breathe you in. You were SO certain that crossed the line of platonic.

You start questioning if perhaps you'd been reading social interactions wrong your entire life, as next to you, Rafayel starts getting antsy.

"Cutie, as much as the sky is beautiful today and I would love to spend time staring at it with you, we should go get lunch now. Thomas' endless texting has tired me out, and I'm huungry. " He speaks, his tone light and whiney as always, and for a second, you consider him world's greatest actor.

You decide that what you felt for Rafayel combined with the effort you'd put into this plan was worth the risk of heartbreak, so in a final effort to get him to acknowledge you, you speak up.

"Don't you want to see your trusty choir first? They're right there behind you. I'm sure they've missed their conductor." You're not sure if you manage to keep your tone quite as light and playful as intended, desperation tinging the edges of your words, but you've spoken them, now he HAS to respond.

A pause, anticipation clogs your veins, and you practically feel your blood pressure rising. "...there's a boat ride with a buffet that might be nice today, since the weather is so nice and all."

Your eyebrows raise, the casual tone of his voice so steady that you almost start questioning if you even did bring it up at all. But the quick look he takes at you and the way he turns away tells you he is definitely doing this on purpose.

It was truly rejection then, your stomach twists and a buffet and a boat ride with Rafayel suddenly sound daunting. You could get over rejection, but maybe not within 10 minutes.

"Hmm, that sounds nice but I'm actually starting to feel a little off," you muse on your excuse "I think I might head home a little earlier than planned today, Rafayel, rain check?"

He turns to face you now, slowly. Eyes wide and brows furrowed, expression reminiscent of that time you gave him a single apple when he checked himself into the hospital. A mix between shock, offense, and a silent command to change your mind.

He grabs your wrist and starts pulling you along. His expression changes in a heartbeat, and it's like you never said anything.

"They apparently have like a super long waiting list, but I got in pretty easily. Guess being well known does have its perks after all, huh?" He keeps talking in that same casual tone of his, which is starting to frustrate you to no end.

"Rafayel, I get that a rain check for the boat might not be easy if it's like that, but I really need to go home." You plead, trying to pull yourself out of his grip but he just turns to you, gives you that same expression that you're convinced only Rafayel can make properly, and then keeps going like you never opened your mouth.

You're baffled at his behavior, and by the time you recover, the two of you are making your way onto the boat.

"Now, I'm going to need you to stop looking so surprised, cutie." He reaches out to gently smooth his fingers over the muscles of your brows, which you will admit are a little tense from how you've had them raised the entire way here. "I need you looking as cute as you always do for the pictures we're gonna take here."

It was one thing to completely ignore what was practically a confession, another to blatantly ignore your request to go home, but the audacity to tell you to not be surprised at his antics? That was too far.

He tries to pull you along again, but you hold steady. He shoots you a questioning look. As if you're the one acting out of the ordinary.

"Rafayel, I want to go home," and you're proud of yourself for standing on business, convinced there is no way for him to just ignore that. In your defense, he doesn't.

Instead, he huffs, his gorgeous features taking on that oh so familiar, annoyed expression. His response is a short "no, you don't" before he takes a step closer to you, only to link your arms and pull you along with the new leverage that gives him.

Then, before you know it, you're standing at the front of the boat as it slides through the water. With no way home except a very prolonged dive.

Rafayel entertains you, and the entire situation had been confusing enough to distract you from his blatant rejection, but now that his weird behavior seems to be settling, reality starts creeping in. You're stuck with him now, so you'll have to keep yourself together until you manage to get off this boat. How vexing.

His first cough doesn't shake you out of the deep thoughts you're in and neither does the second so, Rafayel resorts to nudging you with his elbow when a red fish surfaces with a bottle in its mouth.

You look at him, but he pointedly looks away, like he didn't just practically poke your ribs out. When you lean towards the railing, the fish jumps, and the bottle flies towards you.

You're not actually in the mood to catch it, but your hunter instincts kick in, and in the blink of an eye, the intricate glass bottle is in your hands. You can see a note neatly curled up and tied with a bow, resting inside it.

"Wow, cutie, those are some reflexes." Rafayel feigns being impressed and then presses on. "You should open it. You won the bottle's secrets fair and square once you saved its life."

You narrow your eyes at him. This could not possibly have been more obviously set up by him. Though you will say, his sheer determination to have things go his way is admirable.

You comply, already knowing the only other option was to face his huffing and puffing before then having to comply after all.

The cork takes more effort to open than you'd like, and Rafayel smiles fondly at the slight flush that rises on your face in result. Once you unroll the note, though, your eyes widen.

There, in Rafayel's eclectic handwriting are the very words you'd strung up on your seagulls.

A beat passes, and Rafayel looks at you expectantly. A cute expression on his face, and for a second, you are torn between accepting just to keep him looking like that and raining down righteous retribution on him.

You decide you'd do both. "Rafayel, of course I'll be your valentine, but did you really ha-" his lips halt yours before you could complain at all and you feel said complaints melting away.

The kiss is sweet, Rafayel brings you into his arms as he starts to deepen it, you'd always suspected he'd be a needy kisser, but he pulls away before he gets carried away.

"Sorry, cutie. Couldn't have you interfering with my plans though, you have no idea how long I've waited to make this move." His voice sounds breathy, and his eyes don't leave your lips. His words are so sweet you could almost ignore how he's pretending this was your fault. Almost.

Yet, you'll let it slide. Because as he leans in for another kiss, you just can't find it in yourself to be upset with him.

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itzy-bitsy-spidey · 3 days ago

Text

"Pokemon collection (pt. 7)"

Or "something made a hole in my backyard pt.7"

Shadow The Hedgehog x reader (platonic)

Notes: Happy Valentine's day!! If you're feeling nice leave a comment, they are hugely appreciated!

Part 6

Fainting was a weird sensation. It´s like when you stood up really fast and you get dizzy, except instead of going away the dizzines just makes you fall to the ground and hit your head.

It was the waking up part that was higly confusing. Mainly because the first thing you saw was a yellow-orangey creature.

"AHHHHH" Yeah, probably the whole neighborhood heard you scream.

And then you heard multiple voices at the same time from which what you understod was: "Hey, there´s no need to scream" from what sounded like a child, "You´re not dead!" from an older child, "This one is weird, she is silent and then loud" that sounded like a grown ass adult. And there was also Ozzy barking.

"Okay everybody, move aside, give her some space" Now that voice you did recognize, that was your aunt Maddie.

Only when she sat next to you did you register that you were laying in the couch. How long had it been?

"Hey sweetie" She started as she gently laid her hand on your arm as though you were a scared animal that would run off at any moment. "I´m sorry this all came as a surprise to you, we didn´t mean to..."

"I´M BACK, WHO SCREAMED?" Tom interrupted her as he appeared out of nowhere, or maybe he had come from upstairs, you didn´t know, you were sooo confused.

"What happened? And why is there a blue hedghog here?"

"We were going to tell you, but then you showed up with Shadow and we didn´t want to..." Once again your aunt was interrupted.

"Hi! I´m Sonic! Your super awesome cousin you didn´t know you had" The hedgehog practically screamed on your face.

"I´m sorry, did you just say cousin?" You asked at him, but you didn´t even let him speak as you turned towards your uncle "Is this why you said kids? Are these... things..."

"Rude" Said, well, Sonic, you guessed.

"...Your kids? And you didn´t tell me?" You couldn´t quite tell if you were feeling offended or confused, there was a sort of thightness on your chest, as if you were hugely overlooking a very important detail.

"Why did you not tell me? And why are there so many of them? What, do you collect them like fucking pokemons or something?" Now you did know what you were feeling.

Angry, hot with anger. You could feel it in every vein on your body, your eyes couldn´t focus on anything, until you found a victim, still sitting right at your side.

"I asked you for help! I thought he was dying and you didn´t even think about telling me that you had seen others like him?!" you screamed at your aunt Maddie as you got up from the couch.

"I didn´t know what to do, he is dangerous!" She quipped right back.

"That´s not your call to make, I would have handled it if you had said something" that was probably one of the first times in your life you had disagreed with your aunt.

Shadow wasn´t dangerous. Sure, he was hurt and he didn´t really trust you, but that didn´t make him dangerous.

"HE TRIED TO KILL TOM!"

...

"What?"

Your voice had came out so low you weren´t sure the words had actually left your mouth at all.

"He did, that´s why he has a broken arm" Maddie explained as she grabbed your hands on hers.

"But he´s not bad..."

"He has the ability to be..." she stated as if it was an unmistakable truth.

"Maddie that´s enough, we talked about this" Finally Tom approached the two of you, he put his working arm in between you and stared sternly at his wife. Yet she kept looking at you in your eyes.

"But it doesn´t matter anymore, he´s gone" She tried to smile reassuringly.

"What?" Suddenly the hold on your hands felt restrictive "What do you mean? What did you do?!" you ripped your hands of of hers.

"I-I, nothing, I didn´t do nothing, he was gone when I went looking for you" She seemed shocked at your harsh reaction.

Dread filled your entire body, it had drenched you in an awful way, freezing you from head to toes. A sound left your lips, it wasn´t quite a word, more like a strained gasp.

And the you ran.

You didn´t hear your aunt calling for you as you left the house, or the little yellow fox asking "What is going on?", all you could be aware of was the blood pumping through your legs and your heart beating wildly in your chest. There was a ringing in your ears too, that damned type of ringing that appears when the world is too quiet.

The run to your house felt awfully longer than the walk you had taken that morning, and once you finally arrived your brain was working too fast, trying to focus on everything at once.

From afar the house had looked normal, but the door was open, the lock busted. Your heart had left your chest altogether and was then beating on your throat.

You walked in slowly, the speed you had taken on the run dead as you had stepped on the welcome mat. A voice came from the living room, so you went there first.

The wooden floor creaked with every step you took, and anticipation built in your chest. But there was no one there, only the TV on, broadcasting a Mexican novela.

With every second you gained speed as you ran all the way to the bedroom you were staying in, the one Shadow had taken as his own while he healed.

The bed was neatly done and everything was on place, except the window, which was wide open

"SHADOW! SHADOW WERE ARE YOU?!" you screamed through the window, looking for signs of him on the backyard.

Something warm dripped onto your hand, and, as you touched your face trying to figure out were the liquid had came from, you felt traces of tears painting your cheeks.

You kept calling out his name as you searched around the house, your voice growing weaker and more broken as you didn't find him.

Finally you reached the living room once again, and you collapsed on the couch. You tried to hold your hands together so that they wouldn't shake.

A creak sounded from the window behind you; you turned around.

There he was standing, looking straight at your eyes with his usual frown. He exchanged looks with you for a few seconds and when you finally moved he was too confused as to move.

You jumped over the couch and hugged him. The hard floor digged onto your knees and your body felt tired, but he was alright which was what mattered.

"Where where you?" You questioned him.

"A woman came by, I did what you told me, I hid". His frown looked almost concerned then, as if he was worried he had done something wrong.

"Yes, you did well" You laughed and broke the hug, choosing to keep your hands on his shoulders instead "Maybe a little too well".

"I'm..."

"The ultimate life form? Yeah, yeah, I know"

"No, I'm... Sorry, that I worried you" he stared at the ground.

You almost choked on a sob at his words.

"It's okay, I was just worried you were hurt, there's nothing to apologize for sweetie" you explained as you held his face in your hands.

What a twist your life had taken.

Taglist:@boogiemansbitch@vxllys@whoisgami@baby-bloos@sapphireravensworld@mothmanperson@4rm-the-mf-concrete@eliknowsnothing@pooplyface1423@kyouzki@moon-trash1507@shadowforlive

#shadow the hedgehog #sonic movie 3 #sonic the hedgehog #sonic 3 #shadow x reader #shadow #shadow x oc #sth fanfic #sth #shadow the ultimate lifeform #shadow the hedgehog x reader #donut lord #pretzel lady #tom wachowski #maddie wachowski #miles tails prower #tails the fox #knuckles #knuckles the echidna

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mammalsofaction · 2 days ago

Text

The Rizzler

Rating: M

Relationship: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus

Add tags: Jealous Perry, possessive Perry, Happy Valentines!, I couldn't help myself, rizzler Perry, human Perry, speaking Perry, hewt and Stemmy, 0-100 real fast like.

Perry might have been approaching this mission with a tad more undeserved aggression than necessary.

It's been…hard, recently. To remember that he and Heinz weren't in an actual relationship, and that this was for good reason. And Perry's pretty sure that whatever it was between them going unspoken, it wasn't one-sided. Heinz had a bit of a talent of talking without saying much of anything, and so within the last few years of their relationship Perry had learned to read the fine print: where his touch lingered, their eyes meeting seconds too long, the genuine enjoyment of companionship, not to mention the unabashed domesticity.

They were a thing, not that they said anything out loud. Not in so many words...so he. Forgets.

Heinz had always had a more active social life than Perry himself, say nothing of his attempt of a love life in the wake of his divorce. He'd always known Heinz to be...the more sexually active between the two of them as well. Sure, the dating attempts had cooled down significantly since they'd gotten close a year or so ago, but never zero, so every couple of months, he'd get lonely enough to try.

Case in point:-

"Gott, that is so unfair, Perry the Platypus," he complained, scowling. " That thing has a single charge every 12 hours, and my date is tonight. One blast-you don't even need any help, rizzing wise! You have plenty of rizz on your own!"

Perry scowls, wondering who in the hell had taught him that. Vanessa, probably, although Norm was going through a bit of an online phase right now.

The Inator had been small, portable; only a little bulkier than a full-size pistol—the barrel stubbier, but it was all in all about 5.5'' give or take—and so the wrestling that ensued had involved a lot more handsy and personal than usual. (Which was saying something.) There was that usual tension charging the unavoidable intimacy that entailed much of their fighting now, but Perry had spent most of his attention on how pissed be felt—pissed as he usually does, when he's forced to share in Heinz's attentions, when Heinz chose to be difficult, pissed over the fact that he had no right to be pissed, so he was pissed over the fact that he felt pissed in the first place, and finally. Pissed over the fact that Heinz would think that he would need a "Rizzler-Inator" in the first place.

It wouldn't matter with the right person, Perry'd thought to himself. Heinz was sweet, attentive, dedicated. He was a great cook and a wonderful father, and he was a little dorky—sure, but that simply added to his charm. The lilt of his Drusselsteinian accent was rugged, and Heinz was interesting, and he didn't need a fucking Rizzler-Inator to score a hot date when Perry was right there in the first place!

We digress.

Their usual game of cat-and mouse had taken them over an hour. Heinz docked him in the jaw, and Perry had slammed his head into a railing. By the time Perry'd tackled him onto the balcony and sat in Heinz's lap, the weather had gotten stormy and grey, minutes away from the storm the radio had announced this morning. (Which Perry only noticed due to Phineas and Ferb's verbal dissapointment, and Lawrence's gripe on why such a storm had to happen on Valentine's Day.) Heinz insistently had the nozzle pointed to himself, and looking back—the effect wouldn't even be permanent, much less any way harmful to the people around him. There was, of course, that small political risk of repeat events following the De-Handsome inator, but even that could be easily curbed.

Nevertheless, Perry was being paid to ensure even that slight risk would never come into fruition, and he was feeling particularly vindictive. The Inator is humming: that recognizable melody of a fully charged machine, and with a twist of Heinz's wrist and a roll of places—the trigger gets pulled, and Perry gets a faceful of Rizz.

Despite the weather, Perry feels warm, tingly. He blinks away the black spots in his vision just in time to tune into Heinz's tantrum. He's been thrown back from the recoil of the Inator—not excessively, but Perry still has to roll over a bit blindly to find the source of that familiar whining.

Above them, thunder rolls. The first drips would fall, and soon.

"Maybe I'd have to cancel anyway." Heinz was saying sadly. "The blind date events include barhopping, and a dinner picnic at Danville Park. It's a bust—Lord, why do I ever bother?"

Perry frowns, pulling his collapsible umbrella out of his hat. His heart aches: with guilt, yes, and not a little bit of shame, because Heinz hadn't even meant to hurt anyone. He just meant to give his own heart a bit of a reprieve, and the hypocrisy doesn't escape him: it is Perry who hurts him, and it is Perry still who soothes the balm.

Heinz is still sat on his haunches when Perry comes forward with the umbrella, and Perry makes sure Heinz's titanium fingers curl around the stem as it exchanged hands. An unspoken hold this.

"Wh-?" Said Heinz. "Did you have this when you came here?"

Once he ensured the hold was secure, Perry finds his hands move to cup Heinz's chin instead, initiating eye contact—deep and heated. It's bold. Almost too bold. But Heinz clamps up at the sight of it, his cheeks growing flushed.

"Let's get you out of the rain," Perry says, and it's… gentle. As gentle as he almost never allows himself to be. "Sugar dissolves in water."

That does it. Heinz's face explodes in a riot of color, and even as Perry guides him up, up, to his feet, inside he is almost frozen stiff in surprise of his own actions.

"May I?" Perry says, gesturing to the Inator still clutched in Heinz's hand, and he hands it over silently, almost timidly. Perry doesn't look as he to throws it over Heinz's shoulder (though he hears it break over the tiled floor), but when Heinz turns—outraged—Perry grips his chin firmly to bring his attention back to him. "Keep your eyes on me." He growls lowly, pushing Heinz back, back, under the shade of the lab, into the wall. Heinz gasped, for another host of reasons, and he abandons his grip on the umbrella when Perry hikes his leg over his hip, in order to curl his arms over Perry's shoulder. "Or I'll make sure you do."

Heinz's breath stutters, restarts, and they're pressed so close that Perry can feel him gulp. "Well," he said weakly. "Nice to see that the Inator works."

Perry hadn't even considered that. But then again, his mind is on greener pastures. All he knows is that he's feeling manic, hot, brave. Making sure that Heinz was still looking—and he was, too entranced to even think about looking anywhere else—Perry throws his fedora over his own shoulder. And with it; the built in body-cam attached to it's band.

Carl has seen a lot, but OWCA wasn't about to have anything to do with what he's planning to do next.

"I understand the weather has cleared the rest of your…evening, doctor?" Perry purrs, and Heinz whined. "I have suggestions with what we might do to pass the time…inside."

Heinz gulps again, heart beating. When he speaks, it's with a breathy stutter. "I-well, I'm-I'm sure we can fit you in."

Perry smirks. "I'm sure you can."

Denial moment

#human perry #speaking perry #Perryshmirtz #choice of fic #this is 1K long lol #i couldnt help myself #what with all the sap in the air

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alluramiura · 23 hours ago

Text

“𝒾𝓃 ℴ𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇 𝓌ℴ𝓇𝒹𝓈, 𝒶 𝓀𝒾𝓁𝓁ℯ𝓇 𝓉ℴ 𝓅𝓇ℴ𝓉ℯ𝒸𝓉 𝓎ℴ𝓊” ｜se-mi x reader

summary: you save se-mi during lights out.

word count: 1.6k words

warnings: lowercase intended, death description, 124 dies, se-mi lives, mentions of youngmi’s death (💔), reader is an implied foreigner

authors note: i was going to post something abt hyunju but i remembered how se-mi died and i got mad all over again. minsu you’re a fucking coward. enjoy.

you met se-mi after the first game, before six-legged pentathlon. you talked a few times, the first time being when you two agreed to team up. after the agreement, she proposed the idea to split up and search for more teammates.

a few minutes later, you found two players willing to join you; hyunju and youngmi. when you found her again, she had found four other players.

before you could say anything, one of the men behind her spoke up.

“who’s this, se-mi? the limit is five. we have all of our members.” he says, so quietly you almost can’t hear him. he was standing the closest to se-mi, and you notice his number is 125.

your eyes flicker to his for a second before flickering back to se-mi, who looks like she was about to give you an apology before another one of the men speaks, quite loudly.

“who’s this chick?” a man with purple hair—“thanos“— steps forward to address you directly.

“oooh, i see what’s happening. you want to join the amazing thanos’ team, huh? we are sadly out of room, señorita. but come to me next round, yeah?”

you stare at him blankly before turning back to se-mi. “it’s okay. i found a few people. you can stay with your group.”

she nods hesitantly, and you give her a faint smile before turning to return to the two players you found, who have now found two more players.

after the second game, you spoke again, a little before voting.

you opened up about your situation, how you were still relatively new to life in seoul, and how it’s been rougher than you imagined it would be, especially with the whole death game thing.

she sat and listened, nodding softly as you explained the last few months of your life to her.

she spoke about her situation a little as well. she didn’t say much, just that going back to her life was as good as staying here would be.

hearing that, you shouldn’t have felt as shocked, almost betrayed as you did when you saw her with the small “O” patched onto her jacket.

you knew you really had no right to be upset—everyone was here for a reason, some reasons being worse than the others, and her singular vote would have changed nothing regardless—but you couldn’t help but think of how the majority of players would choose money over fellow human life, her being one of them.

you try not to let her see how much the thought bothers you, but she seems to catch on almost immediately.

“are you upset that i chose to continue?” she asked, a bit suddenly, after noticing you’ve barely said anything and had been avoiding her gaze.

“…i’m not upset at you directly. i just…wanted to go home really bad.” you mutter softly, fidgeting with your necklace.

she hums in acknowledgement, and what seems like understanding.

“i wish i felt the same way.”

the next time you talk to her after that was during the third game.

mingle was probably the most stressful for you. you stayed with youngmi and the rest of your designated group for the most part.

that is, until youngmi died.

seeing her lifeless body covered in blood changed something within you.

when the farris wheel stopped spinning once more, you almost didn’t move. however, you suddenly felt the strong urge to make it out of here alive, if not for yourself, then for the friends, family you found here that might not make it along the way.

when you saw se-mi again, she was alone, looking around frantically for another person after the number two was called out.

you first noticed that she wasn’t with her team, but you pushed that thought away as you rushed towards her, grabbing her arm and sprinting to an empty room.

once you were in the room with the door shut, you pressed your back against the wall, catching your breath.

after a few seconds of silence and heavy breathing, se-mi speaks up, her voice hoarse and breathy.

“thank you.”

hearing that, you look up at her before nodding, closing your eyes and leaning your head against the wall.

“you’re welcome.”

when you left the room, you noticed she stayed near you and your group instead of with the people she was with before.

you didn’t mind.

the final time you talked to her before lights out was after the second vote.

when you saw she voted “X”, you were almost as shocked as you were seeing her vote the first time.

you didn’t ask what changed her mind, however. instead, you asked her what happened with her team.

“they…they’re assholes. i should’ve known from the start.” she mumbles, sighing softly.

you two spoke a little more, and you told her about your newfound motivation to make it out no matter what, after witnessing the death of your friend.

you shed a few tears thinking of youngmi. you didn’t know her for long, but like many other people you met here, you formed a bond you knew you’d never have with anyone else you’d ever meet.

se-mi gently put a hand on your shoulder as you cried silently, her expression grim.

you stayed with her for the remainder of the time before lights out.

now, as everyone’s killing one another and the scent of copper fills the air, you run around frantically looking for a place to hide.

you were climbing to the top of one of the bunk beds when you heard a familiar voice.

a shriek.

you look behind you, and a few feet away stood player 124, standing over se-mi with a bloodied fork in hand, looking like he was ready to attack.

that same feeling you got seeing youngmi die suddenly came back full force, and before you even realized it, you had hopped off the latter and began running towards the two.

as you approached, you locked eyes with se-mi as she struggled to fight him off.

suddenly, a glass bottle shatters, causing you to step back, and namgyu to pause his murderous actions, looking up to find the person who threw it.

while he’s distracted, you grab a shard of the glass and jab it into his his shoulder from behind.

namgyu lets out a pained cry as the glass pierces his shoulder. in an instant, he swivels around, backhanding you in the face.

you hit the ground pretty hard, feeling blood trickle down your nose. your vision was slightly blurred and you were disarrayed, your hand pressing against your temple where you initially hit the ground.

se-mi’s eyes widen, a strangled gasp leaving her lips as she watches you fall to the ground. adrenaline fuels her as she takes the opportunity to scramble to her feet, kicking namgyu in his side.

he doubles over slightly, but quickly recovers as he takes another step towards se-mi.

to her surprise, you get back on your feet, gripping the shard of glass so hard that blood runs down your wrist as you charge at namgyu again.

her heart racing, she joins fray in a flurry of limbs and desperation, punching and kicking wherever she could. namgyu was strong, however, and he managed to dodge all of your messily aimed attempts at stabbing him, his own adrenaline surging.

he suddenly grabs se-mi’s wrist forcefully, slamming her against the wall and raising his fork over his head, preparing to stab se-mi in the neck.

“no!” you shriek, balancing yourself and locking your blurry vision onto namgyu before charging at him a final time, stabbing him in the back harshly.

you don’t stop after the first stab, continuing to drill the glass into his back repeatedly, his blood splattering all over your shirt and skin.

he screams out in pain, staggering as his strength slowly leaves his body.

it’s only when he hits the ground, choking on his own blood as it pools around him when you realize what you’ve done, your hands shaking as you look down at the blood covering your hands.

you almost feel sick knowing it’s not just your own.

if someone told you a week ago that you’d become a murderer trying to protect yourself and your loved ones in a death game you’d blindly signed up for, you’d call a psychiatrist.

you drop the glass, trembling as you slowly look up at se-mi, tears beginning to stream down your face.

se-mi quickly runs over to you, her heart pounding in her chest. she grabs your face, holding it in her hands as she checks for any fatal injuries.

when she sees that you don’t have any major wounds, she pulls you into a tight hug.

you wrap your arms around se-mi as you bury your face into her neck, sobbing as the reality sinks in of what you’ve just done.

she kept her arms caged around you protectively, as she looks around to make sure no one else tries to attack you two.

“it’s okay. you’re okay. i got you.” she whispers, her own voice wavering as she rubs your back, attempting to comfort you for the second time that day, only under completely different circumstances.

“i-it all happened so fast…” you cry out, clinging onto se-mi like a lifeline. “h-he was trying to kill you, se-mi…i had to…i had to.”

“shhh…it’s alright. you saved me.” she murmurs, slowly guiding you to a nearby corner, hidden in the shadows from the chaos. she doesn’t once let you go, her eyes scanning the room for any immediate danger as the lights flicker.

after a while, she pulls back, gently tilting your head up so you could look at her. her thumb brushes away the tears streaming down your face, her touch tender.

"you're safe now. it's over."

#se mi x reader #se mi squid game #player 380 x reader #squid game x reader #player 380 #alluramiura #se-mi x reader

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blushsturns · 9 hours ago

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heyyy!! first time doing these request things and i dont know how these things go, but can i request on something for a pairing, like probably chronic hermit!reader and social butterfly!chris ?? thanks ✨

title: louder than words

pairing: social butterfly!chris x shy!reader

w/c: 2095

sometimes you really hated how shy you were. people would mistaken your shyness as being rude and it would only make you really flustered and shut down immediately. it wasn't like you were shy on purpose. you always thought you’d grow out of it as you got older, but you never did.

sure, you did talk to people. it’s not like you were mute and never said a word to anybody. you just get really shy and flustered easily and never know what to say, and when to say anything.

all of the words you’d love to say to people sit in the back of your mind, waiting to come out, but the day never comes. it’s quite frustrating being the shy one. people tend to overlook you, forgetting you were even there because you’re so quiet.

“you should talk more” “what, cat got your tongue?” “you’d be a cool person if you actually talked” “do you even know how to speak?” these are some of the things that people say to you or ask you and even though you’ve dealt with it all your life, it’s still frustrating to have to deal with.

the only one who seemed to get you out of your shell was your boyfriend chris. the relationship was still fairly new, you two have only been dating for a month and a half. he was the social butterfly in the relationship.

when you guys went out to get food, he’d say your order. when you needed to make a phone call, chris helped you write down what you needed to say even if it made you stammer on your words to the point where the conversation left you in tears from how complicated it was. when you two would hang out around people, he never pressured you to talk. chris was the talker and you were the listener. he always had your back and knew what to do when you were feeling anxious, timid, or just unable to speak up about something.

he had the patience of a god damn saint and you were so lucky to have him. meeting him and hanging out with him was effortless. he knew how shy you were, but after the first couple hangouts, he got you to open up and get you out of your shell. now? you’re still shy around him, but you’re definitely comfortable and relaxed and you can truly be yourself around him.

chris loved to talk, even if it was about utter nonsense (which it was most of the time). he’d yap about the most random things when you two hung out together. he didn’t mind talking, and you didn’t mind listening. he always gave you opportunities to have the floor if you wanted to speak on anything, but sometimes he could sense that you were overwhelmed and just needed to hear his voice to feel comfortable.

you both laid on his bed while hanging out at his house, your arms wrapped around his waist as you both lay comfortably in his bed. your bodies faced one another, his hands resting against your hips as he continued to go on and on about something silly that him and nick got themselves into last night. after five more minutes of him constantly talking, you bring your index finger up to his lips to shush him, a shy smile appearing onto your face. “baby, quiet.”

his eyebrow raised up in a curious manner as his eyes narrow down to your finger that was still placed against his soft lips. he pressed a soft kiss to your finger before grabbing your wrist to pull your finger away from his lips and brought his hand and yours that was now holding yours to his chest. “i’m talking too much again, ain’t i?”

you nodded your head slowly, a soft giggle emitting from your own lips. “yes, but you know i like listening to you talk, especially about your day, or things that are truly important to you. i just like listening to your voice.”

chris’s lips curved up into a huge grin, his hands moving underneath the fabric of your hoodie and began running his fingertips up and down your bare skin in a slow motion. “you’re so sweet, my precious girl.” he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there for a moment as he murmured, “i like listening to you talk. i like you, so much.”

a pink, rosy tint formed on your cheeks and suddenly grew warm at his words, another giggle leaving your lips. “i like you too, chris. thank you for being my social little butterfly.” you moved your arms to wrap them around his neck, running your fingers throughout his tousled brunette locks.

“you don’t have to thank me, pretty girl. it’s just in my blood that i am the way i am and it helps you out in the long run too. we make a good match, don’t we?” his fingers travel to your back, lazily running them along your bare skin and causing a shudder to run down your spine at the sensation of his fingers against your cool skin.

you relax against his touch, your fingers continuing to run through his hair as you look down at him with a shy smile staying present on your face. you always felt so comfortable and safe when you were with chris, especially when it was just the two of you laying comfortably together like this without any distractions or outside noise. the two of you could just be yourselves without a care in the world. “we do.” you giggle again, not being able to help the fact that chris always said the sweetest things and made you laugh and smile like you were a child all over again. he made you feel so giddy all the time, but you weren’t complaining one bit. “are you sure you don’t wish i was more talkative? more outgoing?” you bit onto your bottom lip as you stare at him and wait for him to answer.

he immediately shakes his head, pulling your body even impossibly closer to his, your legs intertwining with his and becoming tangled together against the sheets. “absolutely not. i love you for exactly who you are, and all that you are.”

your eyes widened in surprise once you hear those three little words come out of his mouth. you open up your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. you’re speechless, unable to speak, which isn’t unusual for you, but this time you’re genuinely surprised and not sure if he meant to let those words slip from his mouth. your heart begins to pound rapidly in your chest, your body feeling like it’s been electrocuted from the currents rolling through you. “chris, i-“ you stammered on your words, not sure exactly what to say.

you loved him, of course you loved him. how could you not? he was everything you ever dreamt of and more. you never thought you would ever be so lucky to find someone as amazing, patient, kind, and loving as chris, but you did, and you thank your lucky stars every day that you luck was on your side the day you met him.

the day you met him, you were in line at the local coffee shop. you didn’t usually go alone, but your best friend bailed on you and you were already at the coffee shop waiting for her. you had no choice but to try and say your own order to the barista. it was a simple order, really: an iced white chocolate mocha. no substitutions, no adds on. you even had your phone in your hand to say your order properly without sounding like a fool, but the words weren’t coming out of your mouth.

the barista had asked you twice if you wanted something, and if you didn’t, to please move out of the line to let the next guest come up. that next guest was chris, who immediately stepped in. he asked you if he could help and when you nodded and showed him your phone with the order displayed on it, he told the barista what you wanted and what he wanted and paid for you. he asked if you wanted to sit with him since he was there alone as well, his brothers ditching him because they didn’t feel like going. the rest was history and you two have been unstoppable ever since.

chris shook his head, bringing his hands away from your back and placed them onto your face to cup your cheeks in the palms of his hands. “you don’t have to say it back, i promise. i just want you to know that i meant it. i didn’t say it by accident, and i wouldn’t just say it to make you feel better or anything. i meant it. i love you, and i’ve been wanting to say it for awhile, but i wasn’t sure when the right time was. i started to realize that in life, there never really is a right time. life is short and precious, and we shouldn’t waste any time not doing or saying the things we want. so, here i am, telling you that i love you and everything about you. that feeling will never go away for me.” he used the pads of his thumbs to caress your warm, rosy cheeks, his eyes staying fixated on you the entire time.

you felt your heart swelling in your chest as you listened to him speak. your bottom lip began to quiver and you felt your eyes begin to well up in tears. not sad tears, happy tears. relieved, actually. you took in a deep shaky breath, a small laugh erupting from the back of your throat as you bit down onto your bottom lip to stop it from quivering. your heart was racing rapidly in your chest as you brought your hands up to his as they stayed pressed against your cheeks, intertwining your fingers with his. “chris.” you started speaking, your voice soft as you try to gain your courage. you blink back a couple tears, but chris immediately uses his thumbs to wipe them away. “i love you.” was all you could manage to say, your heart feeling like it could soar out of your chest at any given moment.

chris seemed relieved, his body relaxing as his smile only widens. he pulls his hands away from yours that are still intertwined together and places them against his chest, giving your hands a gentle squeeze. “you have no idea how happy that makes me, to hear you say that, and to know you feel the same way. god, i love you.”

before you could reply, he immediately leaned forward with his eyes fluttering shut and pressed his lips against yours in a sweet, delicate kiss. your eyes flutter shut once his lips fall onto yours and instantly melt into the kiss, kissing him back with a bit more urgency, a satisfied hum emitting from your lips against the kiss. your lips moved together in perfect unison, your heart rapidly racing in your chest so fast and so hard that he could probably feel it pressing against his own chest. he moved one of his hands away to place back against the side of your cheek to hold your face in place as he deepened the kiss, his smile only widening against your lips.

after a couple seconds, he pulls away from the kiss and you both catch your labored breathing, his forehead resting onto yours. you open up your eyes, his ocean blue eyes gazing directly into yours with a sweet, gentle smile on his face full of adoration and love. it made your heart swell in your chest and butterflies to roam in the pit of your tummy. “i love you, chris.” you say softly, your heavy breathing lingering against his lips.

he smiles even wider, pressing another soft kiss to your lips, moving his other arm to wrap around your waist to pull you even closer to his body, if possible. “i love you, baby. now come on, let’s get ready. i wanna take my girl out to dinner. she deserves it.”

you were incredibly lucky to have him. he was your social butterfly, your guardian angel, your absolute everything.

you don't know how you got so lucky to find him, but you were thankful everyday for him and you weren’t giving him up, ever.

notes: thank you for the request! if you have any more requests, send them to my inbox! thank you for reading, i love you guys!

taglist:

@sturnshood @strangelife122 @jessie-essie @rina3476 @chrissturnioloslvt @sturnslutz @sturns-mermaid @matthewsturnsgf @christmastreecake @rinahasspots @222wall876 @chris-hallelujah @izzylovesmatt @strniloslvts @oopsiedaisydeer @sophand4n4 @xclusivedesires @poppingit4chris @mattsplaything @mattsbunnyxx @pair-of-pantaloons @chrissweetheart @slutformatt17 @sturnl0ve @pasteldreams @h3arts4harry @marrykisskilled @wh0remikasas @sturnzslut @camzeecorner @alesturniolos @emely9274 @2muchofaslvt @y3sterdaysproblem @sturnslux3 @bowsandsturniolos @moustacherryismyhusband @rafesapprentice @ivysturnss @headzgonewest @strawberryghost3 @il0vey0um0st @violetstxrniolo777 @bigbeefybitch @raesturns @courta13 @sofieeeeex @tylerthecreatorsglazr @kittyyyyykats @sturniolochrismatt

-nessa :)

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #sturniolo #sturniolotriplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fluff #chris x you #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo fic #shy!reader #social butterfly!chris #blushsturnsღ

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empressofthewind · 8 hours ago

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Rating Death Note characters by how much I'd trust them to watch my drink at a bar

(Saw someone do this with Teen Wolf and loved the concept. Here is the original)

Light: 10/10. If we're talking Normal!Light, I think he'd be very trustworthy on this front. Taking Kira!Light into account might change things, but I don't think drink spiking is even a consideration in that scenario; if he wants me dead, I won't be making it back in time to finish the drink anyway.

L: 0/10. I adore him but he does not care enough about anyone to bother doing this for them. I'd come back and he'd be like "yes I watched your drink" while it's sitting 20 feet away from him and he's staring soulfully into a coffee cup. May even spike it himself just to study me under the effects of a drug.

Misa: 5/10. Depends on the circumstances. If Light didn't like me (or, in her eyes, liked me a little TOO much) she is absolutely not looking out for me. Otherwise I feel like she'd happily do it but may get distracted.

Mello: 7/10. I think he'd do it provided that I could offer him something in return.

Near: 3/10. Listen. I DO trust him. I just don't trust that his presence is enough of an incentive for someone not to spike the drink.

Mikami: 11/10. If he sets his mind to something, by God he will do it. He is guarding that shit with his life.

Takada: 7/10. She's not really a girl's girl but I'd trust her if she had reason to look out for me.

Sayu: 9/10. I couldn't rate her a 10 since she's a child for half the series, but older Sayu has for sure got my back. Would buy me another one if anything happened to it.

Soichiro: 8/10. Generally speaking, I'd say he's the most trustworthy on this list. Loses points because he may try to talk me out of drinking in the first place.

Matsuda: 6/10. Would very enthusiastically volunteer to do it but would be so anxious about it, I'd feel like a burden on him. He is not enjoying himself at the bar as long as he has this task to worry about.

Task Force: 10/10. I think any of the other Task Force members would be super reliable. Mogi would be one of my top picks out of anyone on this list; no one is coming within a 10-mile radius of my drink on his watch.

SPK: 10/10. Similarly, I think all the SPK's surviving members would be very trustworthy. If Ill Ratt is in the mix, the rating drops to -15.

Watari: 9/10. The guy kind of sucks, but I think he'd do it. Loses points anyway for doing fucked-up experiments on children.

Naomi: 100/10. Spaced out thinking about her and forgot what I was supposed to be rating her on.

Matt: 0/10. That man is watching his Gameboy, not my drink.

Rem: 10/10. Fiercely loyal, and has no reason not to look out for me. May even kill anyone who tries.

Ryuk: 0/10. Absolutely not. He would let someone spike it just to see what happens.

Higuchi: -1000/10. He is the one spiking it.

#death note #christ i am not tagging everyone on this list. but i'll do the main ones #light yagami #l lawliet #misa amane #mihael keehl #nate river #teru mikami #kiyomi takada #cw drugs

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alwaysless · 2 days ago

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Fellow William analyst, greetings! I hope you are well, I hope you don't mind a question/ask.

I am curious about your thoughts on the lack of reaction we see of Will at the "one life" reveal at the dinner scene, if you haven't already shared your thoughts before! We know Annabel wasn't shocked, but what about Will?

It took me longer to answer than I thought, sorry

I'm not sure I can say anything new, but yes, it's pretty damn suspicious. The composition of the frame stylized as broken glass, makes it easy to draw Will with everyone, and a frame later we see him with other panicking students, so RnF didn't show his reaction quite intentionally.

But I also want to talk about his behavior further. In the next episode, Will doesn't behave the way you expect him to. Given his weak-willed personality, it seems like he should be scared and overwhelmed by the prospect of a survival game (like Morella for example) but he's confused at best, and moreover, confused by everyone else's reactions. He even tries to justify the deans, basically gaslighting the rest of the students.

Will is not afraid, but he does not understand why others are. I have only two possible explanations: either he knew, or he just doesn't care, just like Annabel. Or maybe both.

Maybe he has played these games before. Maybe he doesn't plan to fight for a second life (at least not in Nevermore, again just like Annabel). Maybe because he is somehow connected with the academic staff with all his doll aesthetic, there is no second life for him in general, he just works there. There are many options, but here I would prefer to focus on his parallels with Annabel - two characters whose reactions we don't see in this frame.

This is actually not the only scene where they are absent, contrary to common sense. In episode 6 we see the merit board for the first time. Most of the names on it are blurred, but some can be distinguished. Among them are Lenore, Annabel, Duke, Morella, Ada, Prospero and Will. All of them, except Annabel and Will, are present in the room at this moment.

I wouldn't have paid much attention to this scene if it weren't for Prospero. Why is he there? He doesn't speak a single line, and we haven't been introduced to him as a character yet. His presence here is useless. So maybe the idea really was for all the characters whose names were visible on the board to be in the scene(or at least have already been introduced, like Annabel).

So what about Will? My main problem with shapeshifter characters is that they can be anyone, anywhere, at any point in the story. Especially if they can also create their own copies. He could have already been introduced and we just didn't notice.

Now let's talk about the games these kids love to play so much. We know that Annabel is a talented chess player, and Montresor constantly uses card game slang. But did you know that it was William Wilson from Poe's original story who was a cardsharper? I just think it's such an interesting detail. Nevermore`s Will has never been seen like this, but considering how much of a board game aesthetic this webtoon has, I think it's important to note this.

And finally, there is a similarity that also makes them very different: both Annabel and Will have ribbons as an essential symbol, but it has a completely opposite meaning for each of them. For Annabel, the ribbons are a symbol of madness, fear, and perhaps her golden cage. It appears in her hallucinations after Lenore's fake death, as well as when Ada shows her her main fear.

Will, on the other hand? The ribbons are his weapon. He uses them to tangle other people. Curious, although his spectre is obviously a marionette, he doesn't have a control bar for strings, he controls the strings himself (not always successful but still).

No matter how weak-willed Will is, he's the only one in Annabel's group who isn't influenced by her. She blackmails Montresor, Prospero respects her as a leader and friend, Ada admires and envies her. But she doesn't have anything on Will. In the chess allegory, he will obviously be a pawn (and I`ll write a whole post about it, I swear), but not Annabel's pawn. I have an idea that sooner or later, Montresor will think of using Will to find dirt on Annabel in revenge. After all, given their spectre abilities, it's easier for them to find out lenabel's secret.

So, let's summarize what we found. Absolutely nothing. This post turned out to be longer than I had planned, because I was a little carried away, but I hope you found something interesting for yourself in this stream of thoughts.

Here, take funny little Will everyone. He deserves to be noticed.

#although if his spectre had a control bar it would look pretty cool #nevermore #nevermore webtoon #nevermore webcomic #nevermore will #will nevermore #nevermore annabel lee #annabel lee nevermore #annabel lee whitlock #nevermore theory #analysis I would say #I don't have much to say she said #and then she analyzed every pixel of every frame where this little rascal was ever mentioned #I can't be saved

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viagostalons · 3 days ago

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imagining if Illario was a companion for a moment, alongside Lucanis, and Rook takes him out of the toxic Crow environment.

Illario comes to the Lighthouse and I feel as though the Lighthouse gives what you want as far as rooms go (we won’t talk about rook’s room) and it adapts over time to that person. We obviously don’t know what Illario is like in his private space, but I imagine he’s fairly used to luxury; but we could also maybe assume the lighthouse is attuned to the person on a deeper level and gives them what they need to be successful.

Illario’s room, in my mind, is quiet and dark, lit by some spare candles. Maybe it has a place to read and relax. It is nothing like what he has in Treviso, a total divorce from the Crow lifestyle. To the point, where maybe he doesn’t even like it at first, maybe it bothers him. Rook can usually find him outside looking at the Fade or in the little music room.

Having Illario at the Lighthouse, the other VG companions start to hang out with him; furthermore, they see how Lucanis interacts with him and how he speaks to him; maybe they’ve even heard how Lucanis speaks about Illario and they have expectations that Illario doesn’t pull his weight and isn’t capable.

however, they find the assessment about Illario is wrong.

they come to realize Illario is not only capable but he’s also very good at what he does; he is meticulous and highly skilled.

I think the first time Emmrich personally hears Lucanis give a backhanded compliment, he shuts the whole situation down. He is ready to help Lucanis unpack what he just said, while also bolstering Illario’s confidence.

Rook takes Illario out and the companions offer compliments to Illario

“Great job, Illario!” “Well struck, Illario!” “Excellent hit!” Etc etc etc

I think at first, he’d resist and not believe them but over time, I think hearing genuine, kind praise would fix him

and if Rook could romance him??? Oh, I imagine it would start as Illario being charming but disingenuous. In his mind, why would Rook choose him when his great cousin the Demon of Vyrantium is already here and knowing Rook. Or any of the other companions. OR he’s assuming that Rook is also being disingenuous; obviously, Rook picked him, he’s known for his charm and body, to the point he’s weaponized his charm and good looks.

but Rook keeps coming back; Rook flirts with him and not just surface level flirting. Rook sees him; the first person to ever see him. The first person to peel back his layers and look inside. Rook calls Illario out for only giving surface level compliments and maybe for trying to speed run a relationship because that’s all Illario has ever known. Rook forces him to slow down, figure out what he wants. Rook never forces him to do anything he doesn’t want to. They take their time. Rook really romances him.

Illario is known for his flirtation skills and the way he can charm anyone. But I doubt he’s ever actually had someone want him beyond a one night stand. He’s probably allergic to real feelings and Rook pursuing him so much is probably alarming and confusing. I imagine his romance is actually just as slow as Lucanis’ because it’s a genuine romance. But by the end of VG, Illario is fiercely loyal to Rook; not quite a guard dog and more of a feral wolf, ready to tear out anyone’s throat who so much as looks at Rook funny.

making him a companion might have also healed his trauma with Lucanis. His cousin learns his behavior is wrong and Illario has a chance to air out his grievances in a healthy way. They deserve to be close, especially out from under Caterina’s influence. They could really be something; by the end, they are unstoppable and a great team. I imagine taking them both along by the end is a riot. Illario is very funny and charming but he’s also Lucanis’ brother. The sibling antics would be in full swing. And finally, they can discuss First Talon openly and honestly. Lucanis might even bequeath his cousin the seat in the end.

tldr; Illario could be fixed if he’d been recruitable in VG as a romanceable companion

#I have so many more feelings about this #I could write an essay on Illario being a companion #illario dellamorte #illarook #illario x rook #lucanis dellamorte #datv

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reverie-starlight · 2 days ago

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happy valentine's day!! please be kind to me. this is my first time writing for baji, so I'm still figuring out characterization!! sorry if he's a bit ooc :'). not edited.

fem!reader, no physical descriptions. reader has a dog, baji is down bad and sucks at flirting, you find it endearing. this got kind of long. fluff, first dates. TR MANGA ENDING SPOILERS!!!

the front door swings open, and a little bell (part of a defective cat toy that they couldn’t sell- kazutora’s idea) signals that a new customer has walked in.

baji almost can’t believe his eyes when he looks up from his textbook. he barely has enough time to compose himself before you glance at him, but he manages, and gives you a quick smile and a nod. he’s worried that if he speaks, he’ll stumble over his words and make a fool out of himself.

you’re gorgeous.

absolutely stunning, actually, and he can’t picture this interaction going very well for him if past experiences are anything to go by.

you’ve been in here before, he’s exchanged a few words with you when he’s had to ring you up, but that’s about it. even then, he had stumbled through grabbing your change from the register and wishing you a nice day.

usually chifuyu or kazutora are the ones to help you find what you need, but one of them is on lunch and the other isn’t scheduled to come in until later.

he silently curses them both for leaving him alone now of all times, but he knows his frustration is misplaced.

he’s just nervous because you’re here, and you look like that, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to get through this without revealing his massive crush on you.

maybe him working alone right now is a blessing in disguise- he doesn’t have to deal with his friends’ teasing about his new ‘girlfriend’.

he doesn’t even know your name, but he’d sure as hell like to.

he lets you look around for a minute while he gathers up the courage to ask you if you need help finding anything.

when you go down aisle four, he takes in a deep breath and mentally hypes himself up.

c’mon keisuke, this is pathetic. you used to fight off loads of guys at once, you can talk to the pretty girl.

as soon as he breaks out of his thoughts and moves to find you, he blinks once and you’re suddenly right in front of him.

he thinks he'd actually rather be back in a ten versus one right about now.

“hi,” you say, sporting a sheepish grin. “could you help me find the leashes and collars?”

his mind goes blank and he's unable to form any words, letting the silence linger long enough for it to deemed incredibly uncomfortable.

“uh…” you adjust your grip on the strap of your bag apprehensively. “I checked aisle four, ‘cause that’s where they usually are, but I couldn’t find them…” you shift on your feet, clearly not sure how to take his reaction to your question.

this snaps him out of it immediately and he nods. “right, we’re movin' stuff around to make room for some new inventory,” he finally responds.

your smile is bright and reassuring, like you somehow know he’s having a tough time forming full sentences. “oh, well that explains it!”

he swallows the last of his nerves and nods, finding himself smiling with you. “yeah,” he regains use of his body and leads you down aisle seven. “the leashes and collars should be down here now… what kind were ya looking for?”

“anything fit for medium dogs. adjustable, so she can grow into it.”

he nods again, checking the different styles and brands, thinking for a moment. “hmm… what breed?”

“a husky,” you reply, and he likes the way your eyes shine with excitement. “so something that’s good for dogs that pull, ideally.”

he hums and forces himself to break eye contact so that he doesn’t lose track of what he’s doing. "a puppy?"

"yeah, finally old enough to start taking her on walks but she's already a handful."

“cute," he chuckles. "if you’re trying to limit pulling, why don’t you try the gentle leader instead of a heavy duty collar?”

you tilt your head and he worries for a second that you’ll be able to hear his heart pounding against his chest with the brief silence. “I think I’ve heard of that, but how does it work?”

“it’s meant to go around their snout and tug on them when they get ahead of themselves. it doesn't hurt 'em though, just turns their head to the side."

you hum and he almost spaces out again watching you inspect the box he hands you. he thinks he'd very much like to have you pay that much attention to him one day.

then you smile up at him and say "alright, I'll take it!"

"great, I'll check you out- wait not like that, I mean ring you up-" his face burns as he stumbles over his words and you giggle a bit, following him back over to the cash register.

"thanks for your help... baji," you say, leaning over a bit to read his nametag and hand him some cash.

"no problem," he puts your items in the bag, wondering if he should finally ask for your name too.

then something interesting happens.

he watches as you fiddle with your bags, seemingly taking your time getting your things together. your eyes flicker up to meet his briefly and his heart does something funny in his chest as he allows himself to hope he's picking up the right vibe from you.

finally you seem to come to a conclusion and shake your head slightly and smile at him once more before finally leaving with a murmured, "see ya."

the hope deflates as the bell rings and you walk out of XJ Land. next time, keisuke, he thinks to himself, and opens up his abandoned animal science textbook now that the shop is empty again.

a few minutes later, chifuyu comes back from his break and nods at baji, holding up a bag of takeout. "I got us some lunch from that place down the-"

the bell rings one more time and chifuyu jumps out of the way to avoid being knocked out by the door you flung open.

baji raises an eyebrow, his heart doing something funny in his chest as you march up to him, a determined look on your face.

"hey... would you like to go out with me sometime?"

one week later you're sitting on the floor of your room trying to figure out what on earth to wear for your date with baji keisuke (you learned his full name when he put his number in your phone and set up his contact info).

after you had barged back into the pet shop and slammed your palms on the counter to ask him out, you've texted a fair bit back and forth trying to figure out a good day for both of you.

during your conversations, you learned that aside from working at XJ Land, he's also studying to become a vet and that's why he usually has a textbook with him in the shop. he's funny, very thoughtful as well, which is a nice surprise. you've had your eye on him for a while. every time you'd go into the shop to grab something, you'd do everything you could to talk to him, but someone else always managed to help you out before you had a chance.

so when you walked by that day and noticed he was working alone? you knew you had to make your move (...even if it took you a minute to build up the courage to do so).

he even offered to plan the date and pick you up, which you agreed to right away once you had set a date (friday- today), but left you with no hints on how to dress.

something keeps drawing you to him- you're not sure if it's his hair or the set of fangs that poke through when he smiles, but you're certain that you can't just let him pass by you and stay curious forever.

you finally land on an outfit that you believe would work for any occasion and spend whatever time you had left dealing with the finishing touches before you hear a knock on your door.

right on time.

you open up to see your date holding flowers and sporting a warm smile.

"hi," he greets you, holding out the bouquet. the tag attatched to it has your name scrawled in slightly messy handwriting, but it's legible all the same. his handwriting, perhaps?

"these are beautiful," you say, taking them and admiring them. you hold the door open a bit wider and welcome him in. "I'm just going to put these in some water before we go."

he nods and shuts the door behind him as you walk to the kitchen to find some sort of makeshift vase to put the bouquet into. you hear your dog rustle around in her crate and shush her a little, trying to soothe her. "it's okay, I'll be back in a few hours."

once you're done with the flowers and you've slipped the puppy a treat through the bars, you head back out to the front entrance and smile at him. "you look very nice, by the way," you say, admiring his black leather jacket and button down shirt.

it seems like you dressed appropriately after all.

"thanks," he says, "you um. you definitely outshine me," his delivery is a bit awkward and he looks like he regrets it as soon as he closes his mouth.

you giggle and put your coat on. "thank you, baji."

"uh, I haven't seen your dog around, I remember ya mentioned she's still a puppy... will she be okay?" he asks as you lock your door and start heading towards the elevator.

your heart warms at the thought of him remembering that. "that's sweet of you to ask. she's still too young to be left alone for more than an hour, but my friend is stopping by later to spend time with her while I'm gone."

you make casual conversation about how his most recent exam went among other things until you make it outside. you let him lead the way to his ride and come to a stop in front of his... motorcycle?

"you ride a motorcycle?" you ask, in awe of the way he pulls out a helmet and hands it to you.

"mhm, I've been ridin' since I was a teenager. you're in good hands, don't worry."

like you were in doubt.

"have you ever ridden before?" he tilts his head and helps you onto the back of the bike.

"no, but I've always wanted to."

he grins and you can't help but smile back when his fangs pop out again. he helps you fasten the helmet and then gets settled, starting up the bike. "hold on to me, we don't want ya falling off."

so you do, letting yourself get impossibly close to him as you ride off into the night, both secretly hoping that this will be the start of something incredible.

had to cut it off kinda abruptly, but hope you enjoyed!! trust that there will be a lottt more baji in the coming months, I adore him :(( this feels a bit choppy, even to me, but I'll get better at writing him, I swear.

thank you @softshuji for helping me out with some of the finer details, I so so soooo appreciate it !!! <3

@emmyrosee hehe here it issss

#baji x reader #baji keisuke x reader #baji x reader fluff #tokyo revengers x reader fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #baji keisuke fluff #tokyo revengers spoilers

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imjustatorturedpoet · 2 days ago

Text

Meet me in the Hallway

chapter eleven: Murder pays here.

Pairing: Hwang In-ho x Reader

also available on ao3

word count: 7,7k

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You were drowning in him.

You barely had time to catch your breath before his mouth was on your neck—hot, open-mouthed kisses, teeth scraping just enough to make you arch into him. You felt him suck on your sensitive skin. That would surely leave a dark mark on you tomorrow.

"What’s wrong, sweetheart?" Young-il’s voice was all taunt and sin, thick with amusement as his lips dragged lower, his breath searing against your skin.

"Cat got your tongue? That’s new."

You tried to speak—tried to push out something, anything, but his hands were skimming down your sides, his knee slotting between your legs, pressing right where you needed him most.

Your breath hitched, fingers tangling in his hair—fuck, he felt good beneath your hands. Young-il laughed, low and delighted, like this was fun for him.

"Don’t get shy on me now."

His fingers traced slow, deliberate circles, hovering right over the entrance to your core but refusing to give in.

"Look at you. Desperate, dripping, fucking ruined for me. And I haven’t even touched you properly yet.”

Your lips parted—a gasp, a whimper, something that made his smirk curve against your throat. He grips your hips with both hands, his touch firm, deliberate. His tongue traces slow, teasing circles around your navel before he drags his teeth over your skin.

Then, he moves, mouth trailing from one hipbone to the other, taking his time, savouring every inch. The heat in your stomach twisted tighter, unbearable, and when his fingers finally dipped lower, barely brushing over—

“Hey, sweetie. Wake up."

The dream shattered. Your eyes snapped open, lungs burning, pulse still racing from the ghost of his hands, his mouth, his body—

Oh, fuck.

Reality slammed back into place—the dormitory, the bunks, the murmur of other players.

Young-il.

You were still curled against him, your head resting on his chest, his steady breath ruffling your hair. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The memories rushed in—how you were so tired, how he let you lay against him, how his warmth pulled you under before you could overthink it. And now? Now, you were half on top of him, legs tangled too intimately, your body still humming from the dream.

Slowly—so painfully slowly—you peeled yourself away, forcing yourself upright. Young-il barely reacted. He just blinked at you, his expression normal. Like he didn’t know.

“You good?” His voice was rough. Unbothered.

You swallowed hard, willing your body to calm the fuck down. “Yeah. Fine.”

He stretched, rolling his shoulders, completely unfazed. "Gi-hun asked me to wake you up. He wants to talk. Something about a plan for tonight."

Right. The game. Lights out.

You forced yourself to focus, to ignore the heat still curling low in your stomach, the ghost of his breath against your skin. You moved to stand up—almost free—when—

“Oh, by the way."

Young-il’s voice was casual, almost an afterthought. He sat up, rolling his neck. Then—he looked at you. Dead in the eye.

“You talk in your sleep. Ever noticed?”

Shit.

Your throat tightened, heat creeping up your neck—traitorous and unstoppable. Young-il’s expression didn’t shift—not at first. He just watched you, face unreadable, like he was waiting to see how you’d react. And then the smirk. Slow. Unhinged.

Your pulse spiked.

He murmured, voice dripping with amusement, "Didn’t wanna wake you up at first. You looked like you were having such a good time."

Your entire body went stiff. “You heard—"

And then, before you could even finish your sentence—

He moaned.

A slow, drawn-out, shamelessly exaggerated moan, pitched just enough to sound eerily similar to what you might have sounded like in your sleep.

You froze. Every nerve in your body misfired at once.

It wasn’t just the sound. It was the way he did it. He sighed through it, shifting his weight like he was getting comfortable, like he was recreating the entire moment. His eyelashes fluttered, his lips parted just slightly, and—oh my god, he was actually doing this.

You just stared, horrified, as he let it drag out for a second too long before blinking at you, face completely neutral, as if nothing had happened.

“Sound familiar?” he mused.

Oh. He was evil.

“Are you fucking ser—" Your voice broke. You cleared your throat, scrambling for something, anything, that would erase the smugness from his face, but it was impossible.

He was already grinning, shifting slightly like he was settling in to enjoy the show, completely at ease, like this was the highlight of his night.

“Don’t look so flustered,” he drawled, stretching lazily, his spine popping like he was shaking off sleep. "I mean, I know, it was pretty convincing. Not quite as sweet as the real thing, though. I’d rate it, hmm…"

He tapped his chin in mock thought, dragging it out.

"Eight out of ten?" He tilted his head. "No, seven. Points off for lack of desperation. You sounded way more needy in your sleep."

You wanted to die. Right here. Right now. But you wanted- no, needed him more.

He watched the slow, inevitable breakdown happening behind your eyes, clearly relishing it. And then, as if he hadn’t just destroyed your will to live, he clapped his hands together lightly.

"Well, anyway. Gi-hun’s waiting."

You exhaled, desperate to pull yourself together, desperate to move on, desperate to pretend this had never happened. You forced your legs to move, to stand up and step past him and put as much distance between you as possible, but just as you brushed past—

A quiet chuckle.

Then, voice low and far too entertained, “You sounded so pretty. A shame I wasn’t actually there to hear it properly.”

Your brain short-circuited. Your entire body ignited in flames.

And Young-il? Young-il just walked away, completely at ease, like he hadn’t just ruined your existence.

I hate him. I hate him. God help me, I want him.

He walked ahead without a care, his usual lazy, confident stride eating up the space between you and the others. You should have followed immediately. You should have focused on what mattered—the plan, the vote, the danger that was coming when the lights went out.

But all you could think about was his voice, that teasing lilt still curling in your ears.

"You sounded so pretty. A shame I wasn’t actually there to hear it properly."

And he? He had the audacity to act like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just obliterated your sense of self-preservation with a single line.

Your hands clenched. He was insufferable. A menace. A walking disaster in human form. And still—you followed. Silently.

The dormitory buzzed with hushed murmurs, the weight of tomorrow’s vote settling over the remaining players like a thick fog. Some sat in small groups, whispering among themselves. Others still hunched over their food, eating methodically, as if conserving their energy. No one spared you a second glance as you trailed behind Young-il, weaving through the scattered bunks and empty spaces where people had once slept.

It wasn’t long before the familiar spot came into view—a small corner at the base of the staircase, where Gi-hun and the others were gathered. The moment Young-il reached them, he didn’t even hesitate—he just sat down, stretching out like he had all the time in the world.

You, on the other hand, hovered at the edge of the group for a fraction too long.

Jung-bae noticed first. “You alright?”

You blinked, forcing your body to relax, to shove the lingering embarrassment, heat, and absolute need to strangle Young-il deep, deep down.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, moving to sit beside Gi-hun, avoiding Young-il’s gaze entirely.

He noticed. Of course he did. You could feel his eyes flick toward you—just for a second, just long enough for amusement to spark at the edges of his smirk—before he turned his attention elsewhere, as if he’d already forgotten.

Bastard.

Gi-hun exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “Alright, listen up-“

“The following players have been eliminated. Player 230, 268, 299 331, and 401. End of the list.”

The ceiling rattled. The unmistakable sound of cash spilling into the massive glass piggy bank echoed through the room, loud, final.

Five more gone. The number burned itself into your brain. Five more bodies. Five more people who had been breathing, talking, existing just minutes ago.

380,000,000 won per person.

No one moved. No one spoke. Every set of eyes in the dormitory stayed locked on that damn piggy bank.

Waiting for an explanation. What else could lead to eliminations other than the games?

Oh. Killing each other. But you would’ve noticed that. Anyone would’ve noticed if people were going at each other’s throats in the dormitory. There would’ve been noise—screaming, struggling, something. Five people don’t just disappear without a sound.

Unless it wasn’t in the dormitory?

Your fingers twitched against your arm. Oh god.

If they were planning an attack tonight, then now they knew for sure—killing each other raised the prize money.

Good fucking god.

A cold wave of dread washed over you, settling deep in your stomach. Before, it had just been paranoia, just a theory—a worst-case scenario lurking in the back of your mind. But now? Now it was fact. Now everyone knew.

Five people dead meant five fewer competitors, five fewer obstacles, five fewer hands reaching for the prize. And with every drop of blood spilled, the piggy bank above swelled.

The people running this place had dangled a knife in front of desperate people and then given them the perfect reason to use it. And tonight, those people were going to be more desperate than ever.

Your breath came a little too fast, your pulse a little too loud.

The O players had been planning to attack anyway. But now? Now they wouldn’t hesitate.

You dragged your gaze across the dormitory, scanning the faces around you, searching for the same realisation, for the same horror sinking into your bones. Some people looked shocked, disturbed, unsettled—but others?

Others weren’t looking at the money with fear.

They were looking at it with calculation. Like Player 100.

You had to stop the bloodshed before it spiralled into something unstoppable. Because if people gave in to the temptation—if even one person let themselves see murder as a shortcut—then it wouldn’t stop at five bodies.

It wouldn’t stop at ten.

It wouldn’t stop at all.

You exhaled slowly, forcing the panic down, pressing it into something cold, something sharp, something useful.

Think.

The O players were already planning to strike tonight, and now they had every reason to go through with it. That meant you needed a plan, a defence, a way to keep as many people breathing by morning as possible.

But how?

Your gaze flickered toward Gi-hun. He looked tense but focused, like he was already running through scenarios in his head. Good. At least you weren’t the only one thinking.

Then you glanced at Young-il. He wasn’t tense. He wasn’t even watching the piggy bank. No, he was watching you.

His head tilted slightly, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something knowing, something assessing. You inhaled slowly. Of course he’d noticed your reaction. Of course he’d picked up on the way your entire body had gone rigid, the way your mind had started sprinting the second the announcement was made. He knew exactly what you were thinking.

Jung-bae’s voice cut through the tense silence, his brows furrowed. "What’s going on?"

Gi-hun didn’t answer. He just looked at him, a brief glance, but it was enough—he had no idea either. Then, the doors groaned open. Both sides flooded in. O players from one side, X players from the other.

Blood. It was everywhere.

Dripping down foreheads, staining clothes, smeared over hands and necks and bruised knuckles. Some of it had dried, darkening the fabric, while fresh streaks still glistened under the dim lights.

Was it theirs? Was it someone else's?

Then, chaos.

A familiar face broke through the crowd—one you recognised instantly. The guy you had fought on the first day. He wasn’t walking—he was running, shoving past bodies, frantic, his voice cracking as he shouted, "Listen, team O! We—We—When we were in the bathroom, those fucking X bastards tried to kill all of us! They killed some of us, including my friend—"

Before you could react, before you could even process the accusation, a strong arm curled around your waist. Young-il. He had moved without hesitation, standing, pulling you close, his grip firm, steady—protective. Your pulse jumped.

But you had no time to dwell on it, because the second that accusation left his mouth, the room erupted.

"Bullshit," Player 047 spat, stepping forward with his jaw clenched, eyes blazing. "You’re the ones who started it. Damn it. They threatened one of the people on our side! They attacked us to win the second vote!"

Another player backed him up immediately. "That’s right!"

Player 192 scoffed, shaking his head, fury dripping from his words. "You killed one of us first. You were trying to win the vote by killing us!"

"Fuck you," another X player snapped. "You killed some of us too! Did you think we would just let you kill the rest of us?"

The air was suffocating. Shouting. Accusations. A storm of voices crashing into each other, spitting blame, fuelling the fire.

It had happened. The thing you feared the most. The killing had started. The first blood had been drawn, and now, no one was willing to take the fall.

Your chest tightened. It didn’t matter who threw the first punch. It only mattered who lost more. Who would have an advantage tomorrow during the vote? But that wasn’t the only thought that crossed your mind.

This was what they wanted.

The ones running this game. The ones watching from their hidden screens, their high towers, their comfortable seats. They wanted blood. And now, they had it.

The tension snapped like a whip when Player 100’s voice cut through the chaos, his tone sharp, demanding.

"So? Which side lost more people?"

The shouting didn’t stop, but it shifted, twisted into something meaner, more desperate.

Player 203 joined in, nodding, face tight with anger. "Yeah, that’s right! Let’s count ourselves! Come on down!"

A ripple of movement. Player 047 turned, heading toward your side, his expression hard as he started gathering the X players. Dae-ho’s voice boomed across the room, raw with urgency.

"We need everyone down here! Come on!"

Soon, every X player sat down on the stairs. You were next to Young-il, his hand settling on your thigh, the warmth of it grounding you. A steady, quiet reassurance.

Player 047 did a quick count. “48.” His voice was sharp, clipped. He exhaled hard before sinking down onto the steps. “Two people died on our side.”

From somewhere behind Player 246, a woman spoke up. “Two out of five. That means they lost three people.”

Player 380, sitting on the far right, perked up. “Then we have a better shot at winning the vote tomorrow.”

You wanted to believe that. You really did. Winning the vote. Getting out of here. Making it to tomorrow with your life intact. And maybe seeing Young-il in the outside world. It sounded so easy when she said it like that, like it was a guarantee, like all you had to do was sit tight and wait for the morning. But you knew better.

The O players weren’t going to just sit back and accept a loss. They weren’t going to wake up tomorrow, walk to the voting station, and calmly accept their fate. That wasn’t how this worked. That wasn’t how desperation worked.

They knew that killing increased the prize money. If they were already planning an attack before, what were they going to do now? Now that they had proof, now that they had seen the numbers drop and the money rain from the ceiling, now that they had felt firsthand the way bloodshed made the piggy bank heavier? It didn’t matter that the X players had the numbers now. It didn’t matter that, on paper, you had the advantage. You had been here long enough to know that logic didn’t mean shit in a place like this.

The O players didn’t need to convince anyone to change their vote. They didn’t need to outnumber you in the dormitory. They just needed to kill enough of you before morning. Then, when the second vote came, they’d win by default.

Jung-bae straightened, his posture shifting like something had just clicked in his mind. “Hey, it’s 48 against 47. As long as we don’t change our minds, we’ll win by one vote.”

A ripple of murmurs spread through the group, whispers of cautious optimism.

“Yes, we’ll finally get out.”

“We have the numbers now.”

“Just one more night.”

But to your left, Young-il still looked stone-faced, unreadable. And to your right, Gi-hun’s expression remained grim, eyes scanning the room like he was already bracing for something worse. Honestly, you felt the same.

It wasn’t that simple. The O players were desperate. They had nothing to lose. They would try again. Not in the bathrooms this time. Right here. While you slept.

The PA system crackled to life overhead. “Attention, please. Lights out in 30 minutes. All players, return to your beds and prepare for bedtime.”

The announcement settled like a weight over the room.

Player 047 stood again, his voice firm. “Listen. You cannot change your minds.” He swept his gaze over the group, eyes flashing with urgency. “We have to win the second vote and get out of here tomorrow. All right?”

A chorus of nods, murmured agreements. But despite the reassurances, Young-il and Gi-hun still weren’t convinced. Neither were you.

Jung-bae clapped his hands together lightly, trying to lift the tension. “All right. Let’s go to sleep now, shall we?”

The O players eventually moved, walking toward their bunks, but not before throwing a few lingering glances your way. And not just with frustration or disappointment. No, this was something different.

Their expressions were dark, almost calculating.

Player 100 and Player 044, in particular, had their eyes locked onto you. Not your group. Not Young-il. Not Gi-hun. You.

Their movements were slow, deliberate—like they wanted you to know they weren’t done yet. You met their stare. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t waver. You just glared. A message, clear and direct—I see you, too.

The X players didn’t give them a second glance and moved towards their beds. But you didn’t move. Neither did Gi-hun or Young-il.

The three of you stayed put, standing on the stairs, watching as the others shuffled off. The dormitory filled with the quiet rustling of players settling in, shifting blankets, the occasional murmur of hushed conversation. But under it all, the tension remained thick, stretching tight across the room like an invisible wire ready to snap.

You swallowed hard, glancing toward Young-il. He was still. Too still. His gaze was locked onto the O players, tracking their every movement, but his expression gave nothing away. You exhaled through your nose, your heartbeat heavy in your ears.

The 30-minute countdown continued ticking in the background. You had half an hour to figure out how to make it to morning.

Your fingers curled around Young-il’s hand first, instinct guiding you more than anything else. His grip was solid, warm, immediate, like he’d been waiting for you to do it. He didn’t question it. He just squeezed your hand in return, his thumb brushing over your knuckles once before going still. Then, your other hand shot out, grabbing Gi-hun’s upper arm. He barely had time to react before you tugged at him.

“Come on,” you muttered, your voice low, urgent.

Gi-hun didn’t argue. He let you pull him along, falling into step without hesitation, his expression still tight with thought.

You moved as one, weaving through the players who were still settling in, stepping around the ones whispering about the vote. The quiet hum of conversation blurred into the background as you honed in on your target—your group. Dae-ho, Jun-hee, Jung-bae, Player 246, the mother and son, and a few others who had chosen to side with you in this mess.

As you approached, Jun-hee looked up, immediately noticing the way your shoulders were squared, the way you were still gripping Young-il and Gi-hun like you refused to let go.

She frowned. “Are we discussing the plan now?”

You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to keep moving. “Yes, come on, we don’t have much time.”

Dae-ho sat up straighter, glancing between you and Young-il, reading the unspoken tension. His brows furrowed. “Now?”

“Now.”

Jung-bae muttered something under his breath but didn’t protest. One by one, your group shuffled toward the spot behind the stairs, moving quickly but cautiously. Every step felt heavier than the last. Your pulse drummed beneath your skin, steady but sharp, like your body was already bracing for something.

You sat down, instinctively settling beside Young-il on the cold floor. His presence was a steady weight beside you— calm, composed. You barely glanced at him, eyes scanning the others as they settled into place.

Dae-ho crouched low, peering through the gaps between the bed frames, his expression hardening. His fingers curled into the metal bar, knuckles whitening as he watched the O players across the room.

“Those bastards are acting suspicious,” he muttered, voice low but tense. “It looks like they’re up to something.”

No shit. You didn’t need to look to know that. The O players had been radiating bad intentions all night, their glances too sharp, their movements too calculated.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Jung-bae cut in first. “Whatever those idiots do, once we win the vote tomorrow, it’ll all be over.”

You wanted to believe that. You really did. But you knew better. “That’s what we need to talk about,” you said.

Gi-hun’s voice was grim. “Once the lights go out, people on the other side will kill us.”

The son’s voice was hesitant. “Really?”

You exhaled through your nose, jaw tightening. “They wanted to attack anyway, to force us to change our minds so they can win the vote. We knew that. But now? Now those greedy bastards know murder adds to the jackpot. If they get just two of us, they win the damn vote.”

A hush fell over the group. Player 007 shifted uncomfortably, his fingers twitching against his knees. “So what do we do?” His voice was tight, edged with fear.

Then Young-il leaned forward. “Let’s attack them first.”

Your breath caught. Not because the words were shocking, but because they were exactly what you had already been thinking.

Your gaze flickered toward him, but he wasn’t looking at you—he was watching Gi-hun, his expression unreadable, his posture relaxed despite the weight of his words. He said it so casually, so simply, like he had already made up his mind. Like it was the obvious solution. And maybe it was.

Player 100 and Player 044 had wanted you dead for longer than just tonight. That much was clear. And there was no way in hell you were going to sit around and let them take their shot first.

But Gi-hun’s glare burned into Young-il like a warning. He didn’t say anything, but his jaw was clenched, his eyes sharp with unspoken accusation. Was he seriously suggesting murder?

Young-il barely reacted. He only tilted his head slightly, as if considering the weight of Gi-hun’s silence before speaking again.

“They’re probably thinking we’ll just wait for the second vote,” he said evenly. “We can use it to our advantage. We’ll attack them first once the lights go out.”

Player 047 nodded immediately, already agreeing. “That’s right. It’d be better to attack them first. We have more women and elderly on our side. If we get attacked, we’ll be at a disadvantage. Attacking them first would give us a better chance at winning.”

Player 145 exhaled, his jaw set. “I agree.”

It was shifting now. The group was leaning toward violence. A preemptive strike. And honestly? You weren’t sure if that scared you or relieved you.

But Gi-hun didn’t hesitate, “We can’t do that.”

His voice was steady. Firm.

You turned your head slightly, watching the way his fingers curled into fists, the way his shoulders tensed like he was preparing to hold back the entire group if he had to.

A fracture was forming in your group, thin but dangerous. And if it cracked? If it broke? The night wasn’t just going to be a bloodbath. It was going to be war.

"We can. And we have to.”, you keep your voice steady, even as the weight of what you're saying settles over the group.

Gi-hun is already shaking his head, lips parting to argue, but you don’t let him. Not yet.

"You think waiting will save us? You think hoping for the best will keep us alive until morning?" You scoff, glancing around at the others. "They were already planning to attack us, Gi-hun. You think they're gonna stop now?."

Your fingers tighten around your knees.

"We sit back, we do nothing, and we lose. Because they won’t hesitate. They won’t stop at one or two. They’ll keep going until there are none of us left."

Gi-hun exhales sharply, his hands curling into fists, but still, he says nothing.

"We have more numbers, more people to protect. More people who can't fight back the way they can." Your voice wavers slightly, but you don’t stop. "What do you think will happen if we just wait? If we sit here and let them make the first move? People will die. People who don’t deserve it."

A few nods. Some hesitant, some firm.

Player 047 shifts, glancing at the others before looking back at you, ”She’s right."

You let out a slow breath, steadying yourself, then turn back to Gi-hun. "We have to hit first, or we won’t get a chance to hit at all."

Gi-hun doesn’t respond right away. His gaze lingers on your face, searching, weighing, like he’s trying to find something—hesitation, doubt, a crack in your conviction. But there’s none. And maybe that’s what finally makes him exhale, running a hand down his face.

“That still doesn’t justify murder, (Y/N),” he mutters, voice low, tired. “That’s exactly what they want us to do.”

Jung-bae leans forward, brows furrowing. “Who’s ‘they’?”

You don’t even need to think about it. You already know.

Gi-hun shifts his attention to Jung-bae, his expression unreadable. “The ones who created this game. The ones watching us play.” He pauses, just for a second, then says it plainly. “If we’re going to fight someone, it should be them.”

Dae-ho’s gaze flicks between you and Gi-hun, something wary settling in his features. “And where are they?”

Gi-hun doesn’t answer. Not right away. He just looks up.

The movement is slow, deliberate. One by one, the others follow his gaze, as if expecting to find something, someone, above them. Everyone except Young-il. Not at first, at least. He stays still, unmoved, like he already knows where they are.

Then, after a beat too long, he finally lifts his head.

How odd.

“On the upper levels are the rooms they control the games from. The man in the black mask is their leader.”

Young-il stiffens beside you. It’s subtle—so subtle that if you weren’t sitting this close, if you didn’t know him so well, you might not have even noticed. But you do. You feel the shift in his posture, the slight tension in his muscles.

Gi-hun’s eyes flick to Young-il, watching. Calculating.

“Once we capture him, we’ll be able to win,” Gi-hun adds.

Your gaze doesn’t leave Young-il. Not for a second. His reaction is small. Almost nonexistent. But you catch it—the tiniest twitch in his eye, there and gone in an instant. A split second of something unguarded, something unspoken.

And yet, it says everything.

It’s the look of someone who’s heard this before. The look of someone who’s already thought about it, already dismissed it, because it was stupid. Like he’s saying, How cute. You and your silly ideas.

But then, as quickly as it appeared, it’s gone. His expression smooths out, unreadable, effortlessly slipping back into that familiar calm, that steady confidence that makes it impossible to tell what he’s really thinking. You inhale slowly, keeping your face neutral.

Something isn’t adding up.

He should have at least reacted to the idea that there’s a big bad man behind all of this, someone controlling the games and watching you, someone you could go after.

Instead, he stiffened. Instead, his face twitched. Instead… he already knew.

The question is—why?

You knew he was a previous winner. That much hadn't been a secret to you. But something like this? Something as crucial as who was pulling the strings, where they were hiding?

Wouldn’t he have told you?

A strange thought curls at the edges of your mind, something uneasy, something wrong.

Young-il knew?

Before Gi-hun even said it, before the words had fully settled in the air, he knew. His body reacted before his brain could stop it—the tension, the stiffness, the way his eye had twitched for just a split second. A tell. A sign.

Like he had heard this before. Like he had already thought about it, already dismissed it, already decided it wasn’t worth entertaining. Like he knew more than he was letting on.

No. That’s ridiculous.

Young-il wouldn’t lie to you. He wouldn’t. He had never lied to you. Or—well—when he did, he always told you the truth afterward.

The thought is almost insulting in its absurdity, in its sheer impossibility. Because this is Young-il. The same Young-il who always told you exactly what he thought. The same Young-il who teased you relentlessly, who smirked when you were flustered but never when you were truly upset. The same Young-il who held your hand when you were shaking and tucked you close when you needed warmth. The same Young-il who kissed you like a starving man.

He was an asshole, yes. A menace, absolutely. But he wasn’t a liar. And he wasn’t cruel. Not to you.

He had protected you. Time and time again, when he could have left you to fend for yourself, when he could have looked out for his own survival first. Instead, he had stayed by your side, had pulled you out of the fire, had chosen you.

Would someone like that really hide something from you?

No. Of course not.

You inhale, steadying yourself.

Whatever you saw—whatever little twitch, whatever hint of something—it didn’t mean anything.

He probably just thought Gi-hun’s plan was stupid. That was all. He wasn’t the type to chase after hopeless dreams, wasn’t the type to waste energy on fantasies of overthrowing an enemy he had never seen. And that made sense, didn’t it?

Young-il had won. He had survived. If anyone knew how hopeless it was to fight the people in charge, it was him. That’s why he had reacted the way he did. That’s all it was.

You let the tension ease from your shoulders, pushing the doubt away, locking it deep where it can’t reach you. Where it shouldn’t reach you.

Because there is no universe where Young-il would ever betray you. No universe where he would lie. Young-il didn’t lie. Not to you.

He was yours, in a fucked up way. And you trusted him.

Young-il’s voice cut through your thoughts, grounding you back in reality. “How are you going to fight them? They have guns.”

You blinked.

Not we. You. Gi-hun was alone on this one.

The way he said it—you—felt like a decision had already been made. Like he was drawing a line between himself and whatever came next. Like he wasn’t planning on being a part of it.

Your fingers twitched against your knee.

Gi-hun didn’t even hesitate. “We’ll fight them with guns too.”

For a second, you thought you misheard him. Because surely, surely he wasn’t serious. But then you saw his face—calm, steady, like he had just suggested something as simple as taking a walk. Your jaw almost dropped.

No?! No way.

Jung-bae shifted beside him, his voice quieter, like he was afraid to even acknowledge the insanity of what had just been said. “But we don’t have any.”

Gi-hun didn’t blink. “We’ll take their guns.”

Oh my god. He was actually serious.

A disbelieving scoff left your lips before you could stop it. “From the soldiers?” You stared at him, incredulous. “Are you stupid?”

The words left your mouth before you could stop them, sharp and immediate, but you didn’t care. You needed to say it. Because what the hell kind of plan was that? Steal guns from the soldiers? The ones who were trained to kill you? The ones who had been keeping you all in check since day one, watching from the shadows, waiting for an excuse to put a bullet in someone’s skull?

Your lips parted, but you had to take a second, just a second, to process the absolute insanity of what Gi-hun had just said.

He was serious. He was actually serious.

“Oh, my god.” You let out a short, humourless laugh, shaking your head. “Are you listening to yourself right now?”

Gi-hun’s jaw tightened, but you weren’t finished.

“(Y/N), don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh?”, Young-il’s voice was calm, easy, like he was trying to rein you in before you tore Gi-hun apart completely. But you didn’t care.

You turned to him, barely sparing him a glance, and immediately held up a hand. “Shh. Stay out of this.”

Young-il blinked.

You shushed him.

He blinked again, momentarily stunned. For the first time since you’d met him, he actually looked caught off guard. His lips parted slightly, like he was debating whether or not to be offended, but you were already turning back to Gi-hun, ignoring the way Young-il let out a soft, amused breath beside you.

“Like I was saying.” You refocused, fixing Gi-hun with a hard stare.

“You think we can just—what? Walk up to them? Politely ask them to hand over their weapons? Maybe say please while we’re at it?” You scoffed.

He opened his mouth, but you kept going, voice rising with each word.

“Have you seen those guys? Because they don’t hesitate. They don’t stop to ask questions. They don’t even think before pulling the trigger.” Your hands curled into fists at your sides, frustration boiling over. “We don’t even know how many of them there are. How many weapons they have. Where they keep them. And you’re sitting here telling us that our best shot at survival is to take them on head-to-head?”

A bitter laugh scraped its way up your throat. “That’s not a plan, Gi-hun. That’s suicide.”

A heavy silence followed.

Your pulse was still pounding, frustration still curling in your chest, but from the corner of your eye, you caught the faintest twitch of Young-il’s lips, like he was trying—failing—to suppress a smirk.

He was enjoying this. The smug, insufferable bastard.

You shot him a quick glare, but he just gave a slow, barely noticeable shrug, as if to say, What? You’re the one who shushed me.

Gi-hun didn’t look away. He didn’t flinch. But he didn’t argue, either. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew it was a terrible plan. But it was all he had.

Your stomach churned, dread curling deep in your chest.

What the hell was Gi-hun thinking? Had the stress finally cracked something in him? Had the endless cycle of fear and death made him believe in something this stupid?

Young-il exhaled sharply, his voice steady, firm. “Look, Gi-hun. I know (Y/N) didn’t exactly sugarcoat it, but she’s right. Even if we manage to take a few guns, we’ll still be outnumbered.”

He wasn’t wrong. The guards had the advantage—more weapons, more bodies, and the goddamn high ground. Even if you pulled off the impossible and got your hands on a few guns, what then? You weren’t soldiers. You weren’t trained. You were just a group of desperate people trying to survive one more night.

Gi-hun's jaw clenched. He looked between the two of you, something dark in his expression, something caught between frustration and exhaustion. Then, he spoke.

“Then what?” His voice was sharp, fraying at the edges. “Are you going to kill each other all night and hope you survive? Is that what you want, (Y/N)? Young-il?”

You inhaled, but the words caught in your throat.

“Is that what you want?”

Want? Like there was a choice. Like there had ever been a choice.

Like the second the lights went out, the O players wouldn’t be coming for blood. Like they wouldn’t use the only advantage they had left—the only thing that had worked for them so far.

You glanced at Young-il, but his expression remained unreadable. He didn’t answer right away. Didn’t rush to justify or defend himself. He just looked at Gi-hun, at the frustration brewing beneath his skin.

Your grip on your arms tightened. “Want?” Your voice came quieter this time, rougher. “I want to sleep without worrying about waking up with a fork in my throat.”

Gi-hun’s gaze snapped back to you.

“I want to make it to morning. I want to make it to the bloody vote.” Your fingers curled tighter, your nails digging into your skin. “And if they come for us first, you think I should just let it happen?”

“And if we fight back first? Then what?” His voice was quieter this time, edged with something almost like resignation. “We kill them. They kill us. We all die anyway.” He exhaled. “You think that’s winning?”

That was the difference between you and him.

He still wanted this to be a fight you could win without spilling more blood. Still wanted to believe that strategy, that sheer will, could get you all through the night. But you had already accepted the truth.

This place wasn’t about being nice. It was about greed and accepting it. And when the lights went out, you weren’t going to be the one on the ground.

Young-il exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face before finally speaking. “Fine,” he muttered, his tone deliberately even. “We do it your way. What's your plan?”

You turned to him, startled. He was giving in? Just like that?

Gi-hun’s shoulders loosened, just barely. He nodded once, like he was bracing himself for the night ahead. “Once the fight begins tonight, we’ll have our chance. Once the lights go out, get under the bottom beds quietly. You must not get caught by those planning to attack us tonight. We have to hide until the fight ends. Don’t get caught up in the fight.”

Hide like cowards.

You barely stopped yourself from scoffing. Did he even listen to you? Your mouth opened before you could think better of it. “Gi-hun—”

But Young-il cut in first.

“Come on.”

His voice was casual, but there was something firm beneath it, something deliberate. He barely spared Gi-hun a glance, his attention locked on you instead. He knew what you were about to say, knew that whatever argument was about to spill from your lips wouldn’t end well if it happened here, in front of everyone.

Not now.

His fingers brushed your wrist—light, coaxing—before he tilted his head slightly, a silent Let’s go.

You swallowed, biting down your frustration, but followed anyway. For now. You hesitated, glancing at Gi-hun one last time. His expression was wary but relieved, like he had won something. Like this was over. But it wasn’t. Not even close.

You let Young-il guide you away, weaving through the scattered bunks, past the hushed murmurs of other players. He didn’t stop until you were at the farthest, most isolated corner of the room, a blind spot where no one could overhear you.

Finally, he turned, expression flat. You crossed your arms.

"You don’t actually believe in this bullshit, do you?"

His jaw tensed. "Of course not."

"Then why the hell did you agree with him back there?"

"Gi-hun’s an idiot, but he’s not entirely wrong."

You scoffed. "Oh, really? Which part? The part where we hide under the beds like terrified children while the O players wipe out half our numbers? Or the part where we magically steal guns from trained soldiers and somehow don’t get shot in the process?"

Young-il sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, but didn’t argue. Because he knew. He knew as well as you did that neither option was a real solution. Still, you weren’t done.

"We sit back, we let them make the first move, and we lose. We lose the vote, we lose people, we lose everything. You think I can just sit there and watch that happen?"

His expression darkened slightly. "No. I know you can’t."

Your throat tightened at his quiet certainty, but you forced yourself to push past it.

"Then stop trying to make me."

Young-il exhaled sharply, his gaze flickering over your face, studying you—assessing, measuring how far you were willing to push this.

Then, finally, he spoke. "I’m not trying to make you. I’m trying to keep you alive."

Your breath hitched. Just slightly.

But before you could speak, before you could throw another argument at him, he stepped closer.

"Listen to me." His voice was quieter now, lower. "If you continue to fight now, you’re going to split the group. And if we break apart before the O players even make their move, then we’re already dead."

You swallowed, his words settling like lead in your stomach.

"So what?" Your voice was quieter now, but not any less firm. "I just sit there and act like I’m okay with this?"

Young-il tilted his head slightly, gaze unwavering. "Yes."

A muscle in your jaw twitched.

You didn��t want to do this. You didn’t want to pretend, to act like you were okay with playing along. Every instinct in your body screamed against it. You had fought for too long, clawed your way through too much to just sit back now.

But Young-il wasn’t backing down. And worse? You knew he was right.

If you continued to push too hard, if you continue to fight this now, in front of everyone, you wouldn’t just be fighting Gi-hun—you’d be fighting your own people. And that? That was just as dangerous as the O players themselves.

You exhaled, pressing your fingers against your temples, your body thrumming with frustration.

"This is bullshit," you muttered.

Young-il’s lips twitched, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he reached out—just barely—fingertips brushing over your wrist.

"I know."

Silence settled between you. Tense. Unyielding.

Your eyes locked onto his.

"I’m fighting."

Young-il held your gaze for a long moment. Then, finally, he sighed—long and slow—like he had expected nothing less.

"I figured."

Your fingers curled into fists. "Then why even bother convincing me?"

His smirk was faint, but it was there. "Because if you pretend, it buys us time."

Time. That’s what this was really about. If you acted like you were on board, if you played the game just a little longer, then you wouldn’t just keep the group together. You’d control the moment the fight started. You let that thought settle, let the strategy of it sink into your bones.

Then, without thinking, without planning, without stopping yourself,

“Kiss me.”

Young-il blinked. Once. Twice. Then, slowly—too slowly—his lips curled into something unreadable.

“Excuse me?”

You rolled your eyes. “Did I stutter?”

His smirk twitched. “Oh, I heard you. Just didn’t expect you to say it out loud for once.”

You crossed your arms. “And why’s that?”

Young-il let out a soft chuckle, low and dangerous. “Sweetheart, I always hear ‘kiss me’ when you’re talking.” His head tilted slightly. “It’s just always subtext.”

Your brain short-circuited. Oh, fuck him.

The arrogance. The audacity. The sheer, unrelenting smugness of this man. He was toying with you, playing with you like a cat batting at a mouse that wasn’t quite dead yet. You could feel the heat rising to your face, not from embarrassment, but from sheer, seething frustration.

You opened your mouth—ready to snap, ready to rip that self-satisfied grin off his face and tell him exactly what you thought of him and his unbearable, endlessly infuriating—

He shushed you. Just—fucking shushed you.

One finger against his lips, a lazy, patronising little motion, like you were a child throwing a tantrum.

You froze. Was this revenge? No, because revenge would have required him to take something seriously, and Young-il? Young-il was looking at you like he was having the time of his goddamn life. His lips quirked higher, eyes practically glowing with amusement. "See? Annoying, isn’t it?"

Your pulse spiked. You couldn’t even speak. Not because you had nothing to say—oh, you had plenty—but because if you did, you’d be acknowledging that he got to you, that he was winning, that he had completely derailed your entire train of thought with nothing more than a single, simple gesture. Your jaw tightened. You were going to kill him.

His hand dropped, smug as ever. Satisfied.

And then, before you could respond, he yanked you in and kissed you like he had been waiting for this exact moment.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was sharp and intentional, a statement, a release of everything you hadn’t said out loud.

His fingers curled against your waist, pulling you closer to him. You pulled back first, heart hammering, breath unsteady.

"I’ll follow the plan," you whispered, your lips barely leaving his. “But the second you’re in danger? I’m doing it my way.”

Young-il’s gaze flickered over your face, something unreadable lurking in his expression. Then, softly, he murmured—

"Deal."

He stepped back. His hand lingered at your waist for a fraction too long before dropping to his side.

"Come on," he said, voice quieter now. "Let’s get back. Before Jun-hee and Dae-ho make another bet.“

You stifled a laugh, nodded, and followed.

When you returned to the group, Gi-hun looked up immediately, his brows drawn in quiet suspicion. You met his gaze, then inhaled slowly.

"I don’t agree with it," you said honestly. "But I trust you. Very much. So I’ll stick to the plan."

Gi-hun’s shoulders loosened. "That’s all I ask."

You nodded.

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