#Frozen analyses

[bumblebeehug]

the last “beware the frozen heart” gave me major goosebumps when i saw frozen for the first time

and the fist scene!!! with the saw!!! I SAW IT IN 3D DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW COOL THAT WAS, I GOT JUMPSCARED AND KICKSTARTED INTO LISTENING TO THE BEST CINEMA SONG KNOWN TO MAN

[just-1other-nerd]

It seems I have become incapable of being normal about the media I consume

[almostwisegalaxy]

On my knees In front of you standing for you

Yeon Sieun x Depressed fem!reader

in this story the reader is baku's sister

..................................................................................

The small restaurant, though modest, resonated with a familiar commotion that evening. Hu-min’s laughter, always too loud, drowned out the crackling radio playing an old Korean trot song. Gotak finished his bowl of ramyeon with fervor, and Jun-tae meticulously cut his kimchi, as if it were a surgical operation. Yeon Si-eun, for his part, kept his arms crossed, his eyes skimming the table, pretending to be interested in the texture of the wood.

He wasn't there for the meal. Not really. Since they had entered, he had sensed something—a weight, a draft, an extra heartbeat—something dissonant in that narrow space. He intermittently stared at the slightly torn curtain that led to the back of the restaurant, where Hu-min had disappeared shouting a “Be right back, gotta check something!” too exaggerated not to be a habit.

Then she had appeared.

Not in a beam of light, not with her hair floating in slow motion like in dramas. She was just there, suddenly, standing in the doorway, barefoot, arms hanging loosely. Her eyes were vacant. As if she saw no one, or perhaps everyone at once.

Y/N.

Yeon Si-eun didn't know why his stomach had turned. She wasn't doing anything. She was just there. He felt a cramp at the base of his neck, a strange tension he had only known once before, facing an unpredictable opponent. But there, it wasn't about strategy or threat. It was something else. A subtle panic. A curiosity with fangs.

She had approached her brother silently. Hu-min had turned around, surprised, then immediately smiling. A smile that, Si-eun now realized, was too rushed, too automatic. The kind of smile that says, "Don't fall apart in front of them. Please.”

"Aren't you sleeping?"

She shrugged almost imperceptibly. And in that simple gesture, Yeon Si-eun saw more than he had seen in some of his former enemies. A nameless weariness. A broken mechanism. Someone who wasn't made for words but had too much to say.

"I heard... you were laughing too loudly. I thought... you had fallen."

Her voice was cracked, like a silk thread stretched too tight. Hu-min caught her by the shoulder and massaged the back of her neck as one calms a wounded animal.

"I'm fine, Y/N. I'm just loud, you know that. Go back and rest, huh?"

She didn't answer. Her eyes slid across the room. They met Si-eun's.

It was only a second. But for him, it was enough.

There was nothing romantic about it. No projection, no idealization. Just a look, full of fatigue, shame, stifled anger. A frozen storm. And something, deep inside him, started to scream.

"Why her? Why now?"

He didn't know her story, but he knew that expression. He had seen it on the faces of some comrades before they disappeared. Before they left messages that no one really understood.

While Gotak wrestled with a sauce stain and Jun-tae tried to understand a math memo, Si-eun kept his eyes on her. She wasn't smiling. She wasn't doing anything to be noticed. And yet, every detail of her presence electrified him: the sleeves that were too long, the dark circles under her eyes that shouldn't exist at her age, the way she stood as if breathing was an act that required permission.

Hu-min had gently pushed her back towards the curtain.

"I'll join you in a bit. Promise."

She had turned her head. Another moment. Just long enough for Si-eun to feel his breath catch in his throat.

She wasn't pretty, in the classic sense. Not radiant, nor gentle. She looked absent. Like a photograph too many years old. But that absence, that was precisely what had captured him. That void that called out. That void that screamed.

Since that night, he hadn't been able to shake it off.

He didn't yet know if it was attraction, compassion, or an obsession born of his own loneliness. But Y/N now haunted his silences. His analyses crumbled as soon as he thought of her. He had surprised himself by returning to the restaurant two days later, alone. Pretending he had forgotten something. Then another time. And again.

But she didn't reappear.

He understood that she rarely went out. And only to follow her brother's voice, like a cracked compass.

This made her absence more present than any presence.

He began to observe Hu-min, to dissect the moments when his mask slipped, when his laughter was too high-pitched. He told himself that he had to know. That he saw her suffering. But that he couldn't do anything. Not alone.

It was then that Yeon Si-eun felt the first real shiver of fear in a long time.

Not for himself.

For her.

And something within him stretched, slowly, painfully, like a promise being born in the dark: he would see her again. He would understand her. He had no right to ignore her.

Not her.

---

That day, Y/N rose slowly, as if each movement was a struggle against gravity. The curtain of the small room where she and her brother usually slept was drawn, and light barely filtered through the holes. She knew it had been too long since she had felt Hu-min's presence. It was a sensation she couldn't ignore, a void that wouldn't disappear. Usually, he was there, with his loud laughter and his voice too loud to be ignored. But today, it was as if he had gone silent.

She got up, her legs trembling with the effort, her bare feet softly hitting the cold floor. Each step brought her closer to the door, but she felt as if her body was resisting this movement, as if it didn't want to let her cross that threshold. Yet, she went out. The house felt different when Hu-min wasn't there to fill the space with his noisy presence, his incessant attempts to make her smile.

When she arrived at the school, the boys were in a classroom at the end of the hallway. The place, like everything else, was steeped in a heavy, cold atmosphere. It was where they often gathered, together, away from prying eyes. When Y/N entered the room, she paused for a moment on the threshold, her eyes frantically searching for the three boys.

Jun-tae looked up and, before Si-eun and Gotak had even reacted, he noticed her, his face hardening for an instant. She wasn't supposed to be here. Not now. Not in this state.

"Hu-min…" Her voice, trembling, broke the heavy silence of the room. "Where is he? Where is my brother ?"

The boys exchanged a quick glance. Si-eun didn't need more to understand. He knew this question was coming. He also knew what it implied. He couldn't tell her the truth, at least not bluntly. Not yet.

"He… he went somewhere. But he'll be back soon." Si-eun's answer was measured, almost cold, as if it belonged to a different world than Y/N's. He didn't dare worry her too much, but he felt a heavy truth beneath his words. "Don't worry, he just has some things to take care of."

Y/N looked at him, deep confusion in her eyes. She frowned. Her lips tightened, an expression of vulnerability that didn't suit her. "He promised me we'd go to the aquarium... We were supposed to… he was supposed to come back." She lowered her head, then, suddenly, her gaze fell on Gotak, whose face was graver than ever, and who looked away.

"He'll be back, Y/N. Don't worry," Gotak repeated, trying to sound reassuring, but his tone betrayed a worry that even he couldn't hide.

Y/N didn't answer immediately. She stared at the floor, her mind lost in a thick, distant haze. She wasn't in this room. Her thoughts were elsewhere, further away, towards a place where promises were broken, and where Hu-min was no longer the person she had known.

Sadness, an unbearable weight, slowly seeped into her. She felt like a spectator of her own life. She could no longer connect with others, understand laughter, understand words. She only knew that, without Hu-min, this world became too vast and too cold for her.

Yeon Si-eun finally stood up, his gaze fixed on Y/N with an intensity he hadn't yet dared to show her. He had seen the hidden suffering behind her eyes. He had seen the way she fled from herself, the way she hid in silence, as if she were afraid of everything that was alive. But he couldn't leave her in this state.

"He'll be back," he repeated, but this time, it wasn't a promise, it was a statement. He didn't know exactly what was happening, but he knew it wouldn't be easy for any of them.

Y/N didn't answer. She turned slowly and, without a word, left the room. The sound of her footsteps faded in the hallway, taking with it some of the heavy air in the room.

The boys remained there, not knowing what to say. Jun-tae sighed deeply. Gotak clenched his fists on the table. Si-eun, for his part, found himself once again facing the reality of the situation. He knew Y/N wouldn't see it this way, but he now understood that everything was connected: Hu-min, his laughter, his secrets, and Y/N's invisible suffering. They were caught in a vortex far more complex than they could have imagined.

But for now, they only had one thing to do: protect this fragile balance, protect the facade they were maintaining. Because it was all going to collapse soon.

That night, Y/N went to bed early, as was her habit. Her body was heavy, almost numb. But before closing her eyes, she thought of a promise Hu-min had made her. A promise he hadn't been able to keep.

"I'll be back."

---

FLASHBACK – About ten years ago

Little Y/N was barely five years old at the time. Two big, curious eyes, round cheeks, and that clear laugh that sounded like a jingle bell shaken a little too fast. She was shy, yes—she hid behind her brother when strangers spoke to them—but around him, she transformed.

With Hu-min, she was a sunbeam.

"Oppaaaaaa! You're running too fast!" she cried one day, arms outstretched, struggling to keep up with the two boys who were dashing ahead.

"You're too slow, Y/N! You're a slug!" Baek-jin teased, laughing.

"Am not!" she retorted, puffing out her cheeks. "You're cheating because you have dinosaur legs!"

The three children burst into laughter, collapsing onto the park ground, out of breath. Hu-min had grabbed his little sister and spun her around in the air before setting her down, laughing.

"There's my super flying Y/N! Faster than a hungry pigeon!"

She started laughing so hard that she got the hiccups.

In those days, Y/N thought life was simple: running, laughing, teasing Baek-jin calling him Jin-nie, building forts under the sheets, and eating candy stolen from the cupboard when their father hadn't come home yet.

But the house changed when the sun went down.

And especially, it changed when their father came home.

The sound of the key in the lock froze the air. Silence fell like a contained storm.

Y/N would freeze. Always. Like an animal that hears the predator approaching. Hu-min, on the other hand, would switch to autopilot. He would go get their father's slippers, discreetly remove any bottles from the table, grab Y/N's hand, and take her to their small room.

"Close the door, okay? Don't say a word. Even if you hear shouting."

She would nod, trembling. Her hands were icy.

And the shouting would begin.

Not howls of pain. Not blows. But words that sliced through the air like blades.

"Two parasites. The girl sleeps all day. The boy plays the hero. You're ruining my life."

Y/N would cry silently. Her body curled up under her blanket. Hu-min would come join her, sliding next to her like an invisible barrier between her and the walls of the world.

And then he would start. The little theater.

He would begin to whisper in the dark.

"You know what I saw today? A magpie trying to steal a sandwich! I swear, it looked guilty. Like it was about to be arrested by the police!"

Y/N sniffled.

"Magpies... do they go to prison?"

"Unless they write a ten-line poem to apologize. But yours just said 'caw-caw,' so it was put in a cell with a pigeon with a bad reputation."

A small laugh escaped Y/N's throat. Weak, but sincere.

That was all he wanted. A spark. A tiny ray.

Sometimes, he would make faces in the dark. Other times, he would mime a fight between a sock dragon and a sock knight. He would invent absurd songs that rhymed "kimchi" with "spaghetti" and "rocket" with "holey socks."

He would have given anything for her to keep that laugh.

But every year, he saw her close in on herself a little more. Every insult, every silence that followed the outbursts, chipped away a little more at the light she carried.

And he, Hu-min, fought back. In his own way.

He became louder, more alive. He laughed loudly for two. He rolled his eyes at every criticism, pretending it didn't affect him. But inside, he was slowly collapsing.

Y/N, on the other hand, was fading away.

And he clung to her as to a silent promise. That he would get her out of there. That he would always be there.

Because she was more than just a little sister.

She was the only person who had ever looked at him like a hero.

And he had no right to disappoint her.

Even if she no longer laughed.

Even if she was slowly fading before his eyes.

He would continue.

Until the end.

---

The Next Day

Yeon Si-eun hadn’t slept a wink all night.

He had replayed the scene over and over—Y/N’s figure, frail, worried, standing in the middle of the empty classroom, her voice cracking with fear as she asked, "Where's my brother?"

She had only stayed for a few minutes. But since then, she hadn't left his mind.

He hated himself for it.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Not to him. He had built walls, erected defense strategies more complex than those of any opponent. He had always kept his distance. Observer. Neutral. Cold, some said. Prudent, he corrected.

But with her, there had been a hole in the armor. And through that hole, she had slipped. Not with words or smiles. But with her silence. With that pain suspended in the void of her eyes.

That morning, he had waited for the exact time he knew she would be alone. He had unconsciously memorized Y/N’s schedule. He knew she didn't eat in the morning. That she slept most of the time. But today, he was going to knock on her door.

Not out of altruism.

Not out of kindness.

But because he couldn't bear not seeing her anymore.

**

Hu-min had absentmindedly given him the address of the small apartment above the restaurant. Si-eun went there with a precise, almost military step. His hands were in his pockets, his thoughts hazy, but his heart beating fast. Much too fast. He hated this loss of control.

He knocked twice.

No answer.

He was about to leave, but the door finally opened. Slowly. As if it weighed a ton.

And Y/N was there. Her hair disheveled. Her face still blurred with sleep. She was wearing an oversized sweater, its sleeves falling over her hands. He read in her gaze the effort each step towards that door had cost her.

"Si-eun…?"

She seemed surprised. Almost wary.

He could have said he was passing "by chance." He could have made up an excuse.

But that wasn't his style.

"I wanted to see if you were okay."

She didn't answer. She blinked. Once. Twice.

And then, she stepped aside without a word.

He entered.

**

Silence settled in immediately. Si-eun didn't break it. He observed. The apartment was cramped, almost bare. Two mugs on the table, curtains permanently drawn, a mattress in a corner. And that smell of stale tea, of stagnant sleep.

She sat back down on the bed without looking at him. He remained standing at first. Then sat down on the floor, facing her, at a good distance.

Not a word.

And in that silence… something was born.

It wasn't a game of glances, nor an exchange of confidences. It was something else. A contained tension. A raw intimacy, without justification. A strange calm. He didn't need to understand her, nor to find the right words to soothe her.

She wasn't crying. She wasn't talking.

She was simply there.

And he was there too.

Then, slowly, her shoulders slumped. She rested her head against the wall, her eyelids half-closed. Si-eun didn't move. He watched her for a long time, until he felt her breathing regulate. And suddenly, he understood: she was asleep.

She had fallen asleep.

In his presence.

And it was an insane victory.

A shiver ran through him. Something feverish. Unhealthy perhaps, but irrepressible. She had granted him a trust that no one else had. She had let her guard down. He had become a fixed point in her blurry world.

And in his, she had become an obsession.

**

Since that day, he returned. Every day. At the same time.

He never warned her. But she always opened the door a little before. Sometimes barely conscious, other times already sitting, her eyes vacant. As if her body had sensed him. As if a part of her wanted to see him.

He always brought something. Jasmine tea. Pieces of sweet bread. A novel. A potted plant. Discreet, almost ridiculous things. And yet, every detail had been weighed, considered, chosen for her.

But it wasn't the objects that mattered. It was his presence. Constant.

He didn't ask questions. Didn't force anything.

Sometimes they talked.

About trivialities. The weather. A memory. A dream.

And sometimes not at all.

But he felt that something was changing. Slowly. A crack in the marble.

She was beginning to wait for him.

And he… he no longer thought of anything else.

The outside world had faded. Even his strategies, his fights, his calculations were erased. He no longer recognized himself. He would catch himself looking at his phone, listening to the slightest sound, hoping it was her. He observed the smallest details: the way she pushed up her sleeves, how her fingers absentmindedly twisted a strand of hair, how she stared at the ceiling when she thought he wasn't looking.

He didn't just want her close. He wanted to be everything to her.

Her thought. Her refuge. Her center.

And that thought, although he kept it silent, consumed him.

**

But Y/N was getting increasingly worse.

Some days, she didn't even get up. She would lie there, turned towards the wall, her eyes open without really seeing. Other times, she would talk about herself—rarely, but with a sharp lucidity.

"It's weird," she said one evening, her eyes vacant. "I feel everything. And nothing. As if I'm transparent… and heavy at the same time."

Si-eun didn't answer. He was too afraid that the slightest word would break this moment.

She continued:

"Sometimes, I just want to sleep… for a long time. And for everyone to forget I exist."

His own heart clenched. A dull ache. An icy fear.

And anger. A furious anger at this world that had broken her. At that father, at that indifference, at the weight she carried alone.

He wanted to scream for her. Fight for her. Pull her out of this abyss with the strength of his arms.

But he only did one thing: he placed his hand against hers. And this time, she didn't pull it away.

**

Since then, he woke up every morning with only one thought: to see her again.

He lived for that suspended moment between them, in that narrow room, where nothing hurt anymore. He didn't say it, but he knew: he was falling. And it wasn't pure love. It was deeper. More twisted.

He wanted her to see him.

To need him.

For him to be the only thing standing in her collapsing world.

And without realizing it, Y/N was letting him in a little more each day.

She didn't smile. But she listened to him.

She didn't always speak. But she stayed.

And for Si-eun, that was all it took.

He had promised himself, in silence: he would never leave her alone again.

Even if she didn't love him.

Even if she didn't look at him.

He would stay.

Until she no longer needed anyone but him.

---

POV Hu-min

That night, the air reeked of grease, stale tobacco, and lies.

Hu-min, now called "Baku" in certain circles he should never have approached, watched the purple neon lights of the bowling alley flicker like a warning. Each flash seemed to tell him: "You're no longer who you pretend to be." But he went in anyway. Because he had no choice.

Na Baek-jin was there, of course. Sitting on the worn leatherette bench, surrounded by two guys older than him. One was cleaning a baseball bat with a dirty rag. The other was finishing a bowl of tteokbokki with lazy gestures.

"You're on time. That's new, Baku," Baek-jin said without looking up.

Hu-min didn't answer. He had learned not to.

The game had changed a long time ago. Baek-jin was no longer the kid who ran around the park with him and Y/N. He had become the kind of guy who spoke softly but whose silences killed more than words. Hu-min knew what was hidden behind that calm. Anger. Resentment. A will to dominate that was no longer childish.

And he also knew one thing: Baek-jin was using him. But he also had everything he needed to destroy him.

"We spotted a guy delivering for a rival gang. He goes through the river road around 11 PM. You stop him. You get the bag. And if he resists, you shut him up."

Hu-min clenched his fists. "You mean I have to beat him up."

"You've always been quick to understand. That's what I like about you."

A sneer split Baek-jin's face. He loved this power. This control. And Hu-min felt every fiber of his being scream in despair. He wasn't that kind of guy. He had never been that kind of guy.

But he did it anyway.

Because one day, Baek-jin had come knocking on his door, a smile plastered on his face:

"Your old man owed money. A lot. Now you pay. With your time, your body, your loyalty. And if you try to run... I know guys who know how to make silent girls talk."

He hadn't needed to say her name. Y/N was the ultimate leverage.

Since then, Hu-min had taken it all. The blows, the orders, the shame. He smiled like an idiot at the restaurant. He cracked jokes with his friends. But he lost pieces of himself with every night spent with these guys.

And he had believed that as long as Y/N stayed out of all this, he could keep going. Until he found a way out.

But he hadn't expected her to look for him.

***

Bowling Alley, a few days later

Y/N had had to gather all the energy she had left to go out. A rare thing. But her brother's absence was a dull ache that grew with each passing hour. He hadn't come home for two days. He wasn't answering. He hadn't left any messages.

Something was wrong.

So she had gotten up. She had put on an oversized sweatshirt, her worn sneakers, and gone to where her friends said he sometimes hung out: an old bowling alley near the canal. A den of delinquents. She knew what people whispered. But she didn't care.

She walked through the door into a din of cheesy music and crashing pins. The smell assaulted her immediately, but she held her ground. She scanned the room, her throat tight.

And then she saw him.

Baek-jin.

He hadn't changed. Well, physically maybe. He had grown taller, broader, but his eyes… they were the same. Cold, calculating. And she immediately felt a mixture of annoyance, pain, and memories she wished she could erase.

She walked forward, straight, awkward, but determined. "Where's my brother?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly, but firm.

Baek-jin stared at her slowly. He tilted his head. "Y/N? Is that you? I almost didn't recognize you."

He smiled, but there was nothing kind in that smile. "Your brother is busy. He's doing what he needs to do to protect you, you should be grateful to him."

"Stop your bullshit," she murmured, her eyes shining. "You have no idea what he's sacrificing for you."

And that's when he arrived. Hu-min. Out of breath. Dirty. His jaw clenched.

"Y/N… what the hell are you doing here?!"

She turned to him. Her eyes pleaded. "I'm looking for you. You disappear. You don't come home. You haven't eaten. You don't look at me anymore. What are you doing, Oppa? Huh? What are you doing?!"

Y/N only saw her brother. And what she read in his eyes wasn't anger. It was shame.

And that's what broke her.

"Why are you doing this, Hu-min? Why are you doing this for him?"

"Because I don't have a choice!" he blurted out. "Because if I don't, he'll destroy you. He's pushing our shitty father to the edge. He's offing the guys I care about."

His voice trembled. "So I get dirty. Instead of you. For you. So you can just… sleep. Breathe. Without him taking away what little you have left."

She looked at him for a long time. And it wasn't anger he saw on her face. It was pain.

Naked pain. Raw. Immense.

"But you're destroying yourself," she whispered. "And I can't… I can't lose you too."

He wanted to tell her it was nothing. That he would handle it. But his words died in his throat. He couldn't lie to those eyes. Not to her.

He stepped closer, grabbed her shoulders. "You have to get out of here. Now."

"You think I sleep to forget? I sleep because I already feel dead. But you're not helping me come back. You're leaving."

The silence that followed was heavier than the shouts.

And Baek-jin, behind them, was amused. "Your sister's brave. I like her. She's grown up."

"Shut up," Hu-min growled without turning around.

He turned towards the exit. Spotted a familiar figure. Si-eun.

He waved him over. "Take her home. She shouldn't be here. She's not made for this."

Si-eun hesitated. Y/N struggled a little, her eyes wet, her body tense. But when she met Si-eun's serious gaze, she understood. He wouldn't force her. But he would protect her.

She nodded. Just a small nod. A silent pact.

And she went out.

But as she crossed the threshold, she swore one thing: She would find out everything. She would no longer let her brother sink into the darkness alone.

---

Outside, the air was glacial. A cutting wind. A fierce silence.

Y/N walked ahead, arms crossed, face closed off. Si-eun followed her without a word. He always kept that distance of a step or two, never too close, never too far—as if he were walking a fragile ridge between modesty and instinct.

But tonight, something was different.

Y/N hadn't uttered a word since they left the bowling alley. Her back was stiff, her fists clenched, and her figure seemed to float, as if she were walking without really touching the ground.

Si-eun felt it. A tension too strong. An invisible weight bending her over. And that, he couldn't ignore.

"Do you want to sit down for a moment?" he finally asked, his voice softer than usual.

She didn't answer. But she stopped.

They were in a quiet alley, a little off the road. A wooden bench, under a pale streetlamp, creaked in the wind. She sat down without a word, and he did the same beside her.

Silence settled in again. But this time, it wasn't a comfortable silence. It was a threatening void, filled with echoes.

Y/N hugged her knees to her chest. Her face turned towards the ground. And then:

"I don't recognize him anymore."

Si-eun didn't answer.

She continued, more softly:

"Hu-min. He smiles like everything's fine. But it's not true. I saw him tonight. He's not my brother anymore. He's a ghost. And I didn't see it coming."

She bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes. Her voice trembled:

"He protected me, Si-eun. I didn't know. I slept while he got dirty to keep me away. I should have fought for him."

He looked at her, his heart aching. His throat tightened. He hated seeing her like this.

"You don't sleep to escape," he said gently. "You sleep to survive."

She turned her eyes to him, surprised.

"You do what you can. Like him. You're the same."

She looked down again. A tear rolled down her cheek.

"I hate myself for it."

Si-eun inhaled slowly. His body tense, but his voice calm:

"Then I'm going to tell you something you often forget. It's not your fault."

Y/N closed her eyes.

"Yes, it is."

"No, Y/N. It's not your fault your father was violent. It's not your fault your brother sacrificed himself. And it's not your fault you care about them so much it hurts."

He turned slightly towards her. She didn't dare move.

"You think you're weak. That you're a burden. But you're still here. You've survived things that would have destroyed other people."

She hugged her arms to herself, and her voice broke:

"And you, aren't you afraid of me? Of what I am?"

He barely shrugged.

"I'm afraid you'll disappear."

That sentence did something to her. She finally turned her head towards him. And what she saw in his eyes wasn't pity. It was deeper. Sharper. A mixture of contained obsession and wild tenderness. Something that said I'm here. And I won't leave.

They stayed like that, looking at each other for a long time. As if the world around them was fading away.

Then Y/N spoke, almost in a whisper:

"When I'm with you… I don't need to pretend. No need to talk. And yet… I feel less alone."

Si-eun lowered his eyes. A part of him wanted to take her in his arms. To hold her so tight she couldn't escape. But he held back. Instead, he murmured:

"It's the same for me."

**

The cold deepened. So they started walking again.

They walked side by side, in silence, their shoulders sometimes brushing against each other. Y/N seemed a little more present. More grounded. But a new fatigue weighed on her. An emotional fatigue, deeper than sleepless nights.

They crossed a small metal bridge, their steps echoing on the rusty plates. The street wasn't very well lit. A pale light filtered through the bare branches.

And then, everything changed.

A dull, brutal roar. An engine rumble that tore through the silence. A sound too fast. Too close.

Si-eun's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out mechanically, just a glance… and that's when he saw it.

A truck.

A heavy truck, speeding, without headlights, without brakes. Heading straight for Y/N.

His heart exploded in a flash of panic. He yelled:

"Y/N!"

She didn't have time to react.

He lunged. Pure instinct. He threw his phone to the ground. His arm shot out, grabbed Y/N by the waist.

And he pushed her.

But not far enough.

The truck hit them.

A dull thud. A metallic crash. Then silence.

They flew. The world spun, turned upside down, blurred.

And everything stopped.

**

Y/N's body rolled onto the asphalt, inert. Si-eun's, further away, lay at an odd angle, his arm bleeding, his head against a post.

The wind whistled softly.

The neon signs in the distance still flickered, indifferent.

And everything sank into darkness.

---

Seoul University Hospital — Intensive Care Unit

The white ceiling pulsed gently beneath the neon lights, like a heart hesitating between beating and stopping. The sharp smell of antiseptic floated, mixed with the more subtle scent of dried blood, plastic, and anguish.

In room 407, two beds side by side. Two still bodies. Connected to machines that made the muffled sound of survivors being held back.

Y/N.

Si-eun.

Hu-min’s hands had been covered in blood when they found them.

He still remembered it. He was running, his feet slipping on the wet asphalt, his breath catching in his throat. Gotak was shouting behind him, but he wasn’t listening. He had just seen Y/N’s figure, lying in the pale light of a streetlamp. And next to her, a body. Stiff. Blood.

He had screamed.

He hadn’t remembered screaming so loudly since the last time their father had thrown a plate against the wall.

Juntae had called the ambulance. Gotak had crouched down beside Si-eun. But Hu-min hadn’t moved. He was looking at Y/N’s face. His little sister. Silent. Broken.

As if death had finally managed to catch up with her.

And he hadn’t been able to do anything.

Again.

**

He had been at the hospital for two days. He slept little. Barely ate. He spent long hours simply staring at the heart monitors, watching for the slightest sign. He spoke to no one. Even the doctors no longer dared to ask him questions.

He had sat down between the two beds. A metal chair. A wall behind him. His eyes fixed on the ceiling.

When Si-eun opened his eyes, it was first a flutter of eyelids, then a painful grimace on his face.

He moved. Slowly. Like someone returning from a long journey deep within themselves.

"Y/N…?"

His voice was hoarse. Crushed. He tried to sit up, but a groan escaped him.

Hu-min stood up abruptly, his heart pounding.

"Si-eun? You're awake? Damn… you're awake."

But the other barely looked at him. His eyes went from one wall to the other, then settled on the figure in the next bed.

"She… she is…?"

"Still in a coma," Hu-min replied in a grave voice.

Silence fell like a leaden blanket. Si-eun stared at Y/N without blinking. Her face didn't move, but her hands were trembling.

"I tried to push her."

"I know."

"I didn't make it."

"I know."

A breath. Hesitant.

"I should have… been faster."

Hu-min approached. He placed a hand on Si-eun’s shoulder, without saying a word. A simple gesture. But heavy. Full of unspoken gratitude.

Si-eun looked away. His teeth clenched.

"Why was she in the street that night? Why is she like this? Why does she… let herself drift as if she wants to disappear?"

He broke off. He couldn't speak anymore.

And Hu-min understood that this moment was coming. That he could no longer put off the truth.

So he sat down. Slowly. And spoke.

**

"She met a guy a year ago. Someone older. A literature student, I think. He had that charm… you know, the kind who speaks softly, recites poems, makes her feel seen."

"And then?"

"Then he started locking her in her own guilt."

Hu-min closed his eyes. The pain rose, thick, suffocating.

"He would self-harm. He told her it was because of her. That if he wasn't okay, it was because she didn't love him enough. That his suffering was proof of his love. And that if she left him, it would mean she was cruel. A bad person."

Si-eun froze.

"He made her feel guilty… for his own wounds?"

"Yes."

A long silence. The kind of silence that hurts.

"He broke her," Hu-min finally said. "Not with blows. But with words. He turned her insecurities against her. He dug into her weaknesses, gently, until she collapsed."

He inhaled. His fists clenched.

"And I didn't see it coming... I thought she was getting better. She was making an effort. She even smiled. But it was fake. She carried all that inside her… alone. Because she didn't want to worry me."

Si-eun looked at him, his eyes shining. He understood too well what that meant.

"She believed she had to earn love," he said slowly. "That she had to sacrifice herself to be accepted. That she had to fix broken people, even if it destroyed her."

"Yes."

The two young men looked at each other.

Si-eun looked away first. He wanted to scream, to hit something. But all he could do was grip the sheets until his knuckles turned white.

"I love her," he said in a calm, almost strange tone.

Hu-min stared at him.

"I know."

"But it's not a sweet, pretty little thing. It's not a simple love. It's a need. It's… visceral. As if I grew up to find her. As if everything in me had waited for her. Her sadness. Her silences. The way she speaks as if she doesn't want to disturb the air around her."

He began to tremble slightly.

"And it drives me crazy, because I want to save her. But I know I can't do it alone. And I don't want to become like the other one, the one who hurt her. I don't want her to think she owes me anything."

His voice broke.

"I just… want her to live."

**

Hu-min stood up slowly. He looked at Y/N. She didn't move. But her chest rose. Slowly. Weakly.

"Then you've already done more than most," he murmured. "You protected her without demanding anything. You put your body in the way of hers. And she'll remember that. When she comes back, she'll know. That you were there."

Si-eun closed his eyes. A tear rolled down his temple.

"She's going to come back, right?"

Hu-min didn't answer immediately.

Then:

"She's strong. Stronger than me. She holds on. Even in the dark. She'll find her way."

**

And in the blue light of the hospital room, two hearts beat slowly. A brother and a lover, sitting at the bedside of a girl who couldn't hear them.

But who, somewhere, far away in the darkness of her own coma, felt their presence.

And that, perhaps, was already a beginning.

---

Three weeks later

The days had blurred together. A bottomless hourglass, where the light only served to remind of the absence. Y/N had not woken up. But Si-eun had not left her bedside.

Every morning, he arrived with books. Crime novels, poetry collections, manhwas folded in half. He read aloud, even when he was sure she couldn’t hear him. He gently placed his hand on hers, as if trying to transmit a bit of human warmth.

He also talked to her. Not too loudly, just enough for her to know he was there. That she wasn’t alone. He told her about the taste of cold coffee in the cafeteria, Juntae’s nonsense, Gotak’s nervous silences, Hu-min’s dark circles. And sometimes, he shared his own thoughts, unfiltered. The regrets. The memories. The silly dreams. As if he were confiding in her his personal diary.

And even though she didn’t move, even though she didn’t speak, he felt that something was happening. A link. Silent, but real.

Hu-min also visited. Less often, lately. He had said he had "things to take care of." But in his eyes, there was something more. A fire. A decision.

And this morning, it was finally over.

***

It was a pale hour, almost silent. The sun was barely rising over the concrete rooftops. In an abandoned warehouse, somewhere near the port, four of them dragged themselves against the walls. Four bloodied silhouettes, clothes in tatters, muscles burnt out.

Baku.

Si-eun.

Gotak.

Juntae.

They didn’t need to speak. They had held on. They had won. Baek-jin was nothing more than a name to erase, a specter that would no longer have control over them.

Hu-min collapsed against a metal barrier, gasping for breath, his hands covered in blood, his eyes red. He felt as though the world had stopped. That there was nothing left to prove, nothing left to hide.

Then his phone vibrated.

An unknown number. The hospital.

He answered without thinking.

— Hello?

A soft, calm voice.

— Mr. Park Hu-min?

— Yes.

— I’m calling from the University Hospital. Your sister… she woke up.

The world stopped for a moment.

He didn’t respond right away. He couldn’t.

His heart was pounding like an alarm.

— What…?

— She’s still weak. But she woke up. She opened her eyes. She asked… "Is my brother here?"

He let out a laugh. Choked. Halfway between a sob and a sigh of relief.

— Thank you. Thank you. Thank you...

Gotak and Juntae froze. Si-eun straightened up, his face tense.

— What? What happened?

Hu-min lifted his eyes to them. And despite the blood on his face, the bruises, the crushing fatigue, he smiled.

A true smile. Rare.

— She’s awake.

No one spoke.

Then Si-eun sprang to his feet, unsteady. He barely managed to grab the edge of the wall to avoid falling again.

— Y/N?!

Hu-min nodded. His eyes shining.

— She opened her eyes. She’s waiting for us.

Without another word, they all set off.

Broken. Trembling.

But standing.

And alive.

Heading toward her.

---

The soft afternoon light barely pierced through the drawn curtains. The distant hum of machines, almost imperceptible, filled the room. The hospital, like a quiet prison, hung suspended between life and suffering.

Si-eun waited, silent. He had settled in a corner, arms crossed, his eyes fixed on Y/N’s frail figure, lying on her bed, a blanket draped over her legs. Her features had changed, as if everything about her breathed the fragility and gentleness of a return to life. She seemed lighter, closer to the stars, as if the depression that had gnawed at her for so long was, at least momentarily, behind her.

The others, Gotak, Juntae, and even Hu-min, were not far away. But no one wanted to be the first to cross that boundary. The crucial moment, the one where you know you must leave space, breathe, take your time. It was a miracle. But also a moment of absolute fragility.

And then, in an almost imperceptible breath, Y/N’s eyes opened.

She didn't remember the pain. She only remembered the void. Days, weeks where reality was nothing more than a blurry place. But there, suddenly, she could feel the light of the world penetrate her soul.

She blinked, disoriented. Then, she turned her head. She knew. She felt the familiar presence. She felt it before she heard it.

Hu-min.

He hadn't changed. He was still the same, the brother she had always loved. The man who, even in his darkest moments, had stayed there, by her side. And despite the pain that could still be read in his eyes, despite the scars that marked his soul, he was there. He was there for her.

"Y/N!" he cried, with such force that he could have knocked down the walls. A cry of relief, of pure joy. He threw himself on her, without thinking, taking her in his arms.

She smiled, weakly at first. Then a burst of laughter escaped her lips. A sincere laugh. A child's laugh. The one that used to fill their house with happiness. That laugh she had forgotten, but found again like a buried treasure.

"I… I'm here, Y/N. I'm here, don't worry. Oppa is here" he murmured, his eyes shining with tears. He caressed her hair, as he had done when she was little. An infinite tenderness, a raw, sincere, almost selfish love. Because he never wanted to lose her again.

The others were there too. Gotak and Juntae had stepped back, observing the scene with respect and a touch of awkwardness. Si-eun, for his part, couldn't even breathe anymore. His heart was beating faster. Too fast. Emotions overwhelmed him. He had seen Y/N suffer, get lost. He had seen her dark, broken, and there, before him, she was alive again.

She was there. She was breathing. She was smiling.

For him, for Hu-min, for everything he had always wanted. And yet, this scene, more than anything, gave birth in him to a sweet and fierce rage. A rage to want to protect her, to want to be the one who could save her from everything. He wanted to be the man by her side, the man she could lean on, the man who could make her smile forever.

He approached them, despite his pain. He stopped just behind Hu-min, and in an almost timid voice, he said:

"She… is she okay?"

He couldn't look at Y/N. He couldn't. He felt that if his eyes met hers, he wouldn't be able to contain everything he felt. But Hu-min then turned to him, as if inviting him into their bubble. He knew that, in a way, Si-eun was part of their family. He had understood that after everything that had happened. It was the first time he had seen him so vulnerable. Because Si-eun, all that calm, that inner strength he exuded, looked, at that moment, like a lost man. Like a man who had lost himself in a sea of feelings he no longer knew how to control.

"Yes, she's okay," Hu-min replied, with a smile that wasn't quite happy, but was that of a man finding peace again.

Y/N turned her eyes to Si-eun, almost instinctively. She stared at him for a long time. As if she sensed that depth in him, a form of pain he hid, but which she perceived perfectly.

Si-eun, slowly, moved to the bed, and leaned slightly, placing a trembling hand on the edge of the mattress.

She looked at him with an uncertain air, wondering what had driven him to stay. Why him? Why was he there?

Si-eun didn't have the courage to speak. He shook his head, a little lost, but her gaze made all the difference. He wanted to say something. To break the silence. But he couldn't. He didn't have the words.

So, in a surge of uncontrollable emotion, he leaned down slightly and placed a kiss on her forehead. A light kiss, almost like a caress, a kiss that carried all the warmth of his heart. That kiss was a promise. A silent promise. He would be there. No matter the cost.

She closed her eyes under his kiss. And, for a fraction of a second, she felt safe. She felt that presence, that warmth… He didn't need to speak. It was enough for him to be there.

But everything wasn't that simple.

***

Later, after the others had left the room to rest and tend to their wounds, Si-eun stayed. He was there, silent. He couldn't leave. He couldn't leave her.

He got up and went to the shelf. His eyes fell on an old photo of Y/N. She was a child, with round cheeks and a radiant smile. He had never seen such a sincere smile. A smile that wasn't tarnished by pain. A smile that still resembled her, despite the time.

"Was that you?" Si-eun asked, his voice soft.

Y/N joined him gently, her gaze locked on Si-eun's. She nodded.

"Yes, that was me. Before… before all this. Before I forgot everything."

He turned to her, touched. This photo represented the young girl he had always seen in his dreams, the person he had always wanted to protect. His heart ached.

"You still look a little like her," he said, his voice full of tenderness.

For the first time, Y/N felt her heart warm. It was the first time someone had spoken of her like that. Not as a victim. Not as someone broken. But as a person. A real person.

She looked at him, a slight smile on her lips.

"It's the first time anyone's spoken to me like that."

Si-eun approached, his eyes shining with emotion. He leaned down gently and caressed her face, his fingertips brushing the scratch that marked her cheek. He was hurting, but he didn't want to show it.

"Are you okay?" she asked him, her gaze worried.

He laughed softly, but his smile couldn't hide the pain in his eyes.

"Yes, it's nothing. But you… are you okay?"

She placed her hand on his face, feeling the warmth of his skin. It was her, this time, who wanted to take care of him. She gently took a small bandage and placed it on his bruised face. It was a simple gesture, but it had something significant about it. She was healing him, for the first time.

Their eyes met. Then, all of a sudden, he couldn't hold back anymore. He leaned down and, in a gesture filled with passion and affection, placed a kiss on her lips. That kiss… it was more than a declaration of love. It was the fulfillment of a dream he had kept within him for weeks. A tender kiss, almost desperate, but filled with promises.

Y/N closed her eyes under that kiss, and her heart began to beat faster. A shiver ran through her body. She felt, for the first time in a long time, a warmth, an inner peace. Something that made her feel whole, even if everything was still blurry around her.

They barely moved apart, their foreheads touching, their breaths mingling.

"I'll always be here," Si-eun whispered, his voice broken with emotion.

And she, without hesitation, placed her hand over his heart.

"Me too."

And for the first time in so long, she felt at home.

Because yes. Between the scars, there is love.

..................................................................................

New Geum Seongje fanfictions

@mariii-0001

[kismetlotts]

cw: Simon changing when he meets you, miscommunication between you and him, short drabble, Simon is bad with feelings

Simon who had always looked with his eyes and not his head. It didn't matter if he was walking into a room, talking with a friend or on a mission, that man would look with eyes alone. Pupils working overtime as they would flicker fast, analysing every detail he needed to know while he remained stoic in place. Even if you were at his side, he would never turn to face you.

But when you came along, when you introduced yourself- he found himself changing and losing the person he was so used to being. Stumbling over his words, face actually heating up in embarrassment and he found himself longing to be with you constantly.

When he heard your voice, his head was spinning around so fast he could easily give himself whiplash. Stomach knotting with an anxiety he wasn't accustomed to because for the first time in years he was fucking nervous. No longer wanting to be the cruelly cold bastard he was to everyone he knew, but someone better. Someone that you would approve of.

Every time you passed him, his head would follow you like a lost puppy, his lips trembling with the need to call out to you or say something to you but it was too out of character for him- to weird.

His attempts of a laugh during your conversations would come out as bored huffs, you saw as his mask glared down at you and not the way he adored at you beneath it. His gaze unable to leave you, everything but his heart frozen still in place. He would barley speak to avoid messing up, but to you it gave the impression you were wasting his time.

He scared you with his cold demeanour and you scared him from the way you made him feel. Looking at you with love, longing- everything he had buried inside and not just his eyes. All the smoke grenades and flash bombs parting and he finally felt like his vision was clear, and not tarnished like the rest of his senses.

He saw you in a way he wanted to see things forever.

[more-mara]

In honour of:

Lando didn’t have a thing for hands. He never really got it when girls would fawn over his larger hands- grabbing them to compare to their own.

He was never really into it either when another guy's hand would dwarf his own- thick and veiny and basically every girl's wet dream.

He just didn’t get it.

Until now- until he’s staring down at Oscar’s entire hand wrapped around just Landos thumb in a poor attempt at a dap.

He didn’t think he was staring but how the fuck could he not be- the sight was obscene. Oscar’s dainty fucking hand just barely covering the top of Landos.

Fuck.

Lando couldn’t help but imagine it- Oscar’s hand wrapped around Landos cock instead of his thumb.

Lando knew he was big- like, objectively. He’s fucked enough people to know that he was bigger than the average bloke. He could feel his cock swelling in his pants as he thought about Oscar’s hand barely able to cover it- struggling to jerk him off properly.

Lando was pretty sure he was frozen in place but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t even know what he said after that- for all he knows he could be telling Oscar how bad he wants to fuck him- see him sqirmining on his cock with both his wrists pinned between one of Landos hands.

Okay. Time to reel that in.

Lando had to remind himself that there were cameras fucking everywhere- ready to capture the moment Lando chubs up in his jeans just from looking at his teammates hands.

Okay, so he might have a hand thing.

Somehow he’d never fucking noticed the sheer size difference between him and Oscar. He’d seen it in passing on twitter but never stopped long enough to actually see it.

Now all that’s on Landos timeline are pictures of him looking stunned as Oscar wraps his entire fucking hand around Landos thumb.

It looks worse from an outside perspective. So much fucking worse.

Lando analyses it now- can’t fucking help it as he just stares at the images and tries not to imagine that his thumb is his cock. It’s pretty difficult when the blurry image kind of looks a bit phallic anyway.

Lando gets his hand down his jeans immediately, fucking up into the circle of his hand leisurely as he stares at the picture- as he watches the video over and over again until he cums- as if he was fucking watching porn.

It was so much worse than porn.

He cringed immediately when he pulled his hand out- realised he’d just came in his pants like a fucking teenager.

Right…so he definitely had a hand thing.

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐨 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭.

— pairing; malleus draconia x reader

— summary; set in the future, where there's a threat to you and your unborn child

— notes; i was inspired to write this after watching a scene on youtube where we meet maleanor for the first time. please donate to my kofi if you like my work. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ It starts off as an ordinary day.

❋ You typically spend your mornings in the palace gardens, enjoying the breeze on your skin and the smell of fresh flowers. Now that you’re heavily pregnant with the future heir of Briar Valley, you’re constantly monitored by the Royal Guards, ensuring your safety in the absence of their Lord.

❋ But on this particular day, something goes wrong.

❋ The threat to your safety is swift and sudden, leaving you scrambling to protect your unborn child. Your protectors are caught off guard, leaving you vulnerable and unprotected for just a few terrifying moments.

❋ When word of the attack reaches Malleus, his blood runs cold. Then, it boils. His composure cracks, betraying the true depths of his emotions: a controlled, silent rage that emanates a chilling aura throughout the castle hall. His magic crackles in the air, the darkness swirling like a tempest around him. Everyone, guards and servants alike, can feel the suffocating weight of his fury.

❋ The guards — some of Briar Valley’s finest — stand frozen before Malleus, unable to meet his gaze with their heads bowed low. But he doesn't lash out immediately. Instead, he surveys them with a thoughtful, calculating look, purposely prolonging the tension in the otherwise silent room as they await his judgement.

❋ In his mind, he’s analysing every single one of their failings, dissecting the chain of events that allowed you and his unborn child to be placed in jeopardy. It’s a battle to restrain himself; the true depths of his emotions would surely set Briar Valley ablaze. As it is, the sky outside is already grey and overcast, reflecting the blackness of his mood.

❋ Finally, Malleus confronts the guards with a chilling calmness, his voice like the crackling embers of a storm. “Your folly,” he hisses, his words cold and precise, “could have cost Briar Valley its future.”

❋ Lilia watches from the shadows, a fond smile playing across his lips. Secretly, he’s taken aback by how much Malleus resembles his mother in this very moment. Maleanor had once looked at him the same way, with blazing eyes and a terrifying show of lightning magic, when he had arrived moments too late to protect her and her egg, a young Malleus still forming inside.  

❋ Maleanor’s fierce love had been passed down to Malleus, and he would protect you and his child just as she had protected him.

[tjerra14]

got my notes and a coffee and two hours left before I need to leave for work, so buckle up because this will be LONG

So since my characterisation of Ikrie is heavily leaning on the fact that she was abandoned as a child, I've been thinking about this (and as one thing leads to another, Banuk society and community/family structures) quite a bit, and yes. I agree.

As you pointed out, the Banuk, due to the werak system and predominantly nomadic lifestyle, are less homogenous than say, the Nora or the Oseram. This allows for a more individualistic approach to a variety of matters, and easier adaption to their surroundings--which makes sense considering the lands they call home. (They do have a shared history and identity and culture and ideals, however, which leads me to the assumption they are a lot less fractured than the game with its fairly sharp distinction between various weraks makes it seem to be, but that's a whole different can of worms. If you forgive the shameless self-plug, I go into it and off the rails a little in Delineation.) So with the White Teeth being a stand-in for one end of the spectrum--praising self-reliance and survival skills in the harshest surroundings possible above all else, leaving little space for compassion--I'd argue we could take Song's Edge as an example for the other.

It's been a while since I played Frozen Wilds in earnest and didn't just beeline it to the glacier to snap some pics, but I seem to recall there's a conversation with either Aratak or Burgrend or both (most likely Aratak, though) where Song's Edge, in its current form as a somewhat if not entirely permanent settlement, is referred to as slightly atypical as encampments go. Not so much existing at all--we do know the Banuk have permanent or semi-permanent settlements for as long as they can keep them (see Longnotch as a hunting outpost, or even the bandit camp in which several of the Banuk moving back in remark that they're glad to have it back because it was a good place), and it only makes sense: theirs is a land of scarce resources, so they move on when the surrounding area can no longer sustain them, but if an area is viable for years? Why would you waste resources and lives roaming dangerous wilds if you already have what you are looking for, at least for now? Song's Edge has been around for a while. We know Aratak took his werak there to defend the Cut from Carja invasions during the Red Raids, but it seems it existed before that (maybe a trading outpost in addition to serving as a defensive position? it is situated right on the border, so that would make sense); and people stayed and more arrived after the raids stopped. So by the looks of it, it's about as safe and capable of supporting a larger group of people as any settlement at the fringes of nowhere can get.

This is reflected in how it is presented in-game: there's a whole bunch of children roaming about, and many of the hunters seem to be of teenage age or merely a little older, still in training. I honestly don't believe all of them belong to Aratak's werak, and I think he even says so at some point (but I could be wrong on that. I need to replay. Unfortunately currently I'm stuck taking pictures of trees in the remaster. Again). They might be part of another werak passing through and staying for a while to rest, or--which I think more likely--some people decided to stay for as long as Song's Edge will have them, and raise their kids there away from the dangers of the wilds.

The Banuk prioritise survival above all else. "Survive, prevail" seems a common sentiment: life is precious, and it must be preserved. As you said, and with that in mind, I agree they'd not leave infants to die if there is any other way. Ikrie says "an infant means two fewer hands to hunt with" when talking about how she never knew her parents which effectively sums up reasons why parents might abandon their child: to survive. To prevail. And maybe, surrendering that child to another werak with more resources at hand, ensuring that the child will also live, when otherwise all or most of them would have died.

What happens to that child after is a different matter. I like to think of them being raised by some members or the entire werak, or maybe sometimes get adopted by parents who lost their own children; depending on a werak's general situation not all of their emotional needs might be met (yeah, I have extensive Ikrie angst hcs around this don't @ me) but generally they are taken care of so that they survive. (Same for children who lose their parents--with a life as perilous as the Banuk lead it, that can't be too rare an occurrence.)

(As for Banuk family units: if you bother the kids in Song's Edge enough, some of them will mention that their mother has forbidden them to talk to strangers, and I think the Great Opilai also mentions her parents at some point. It seems to me that Banuk children do live with their parents first and foremost, but they're probably left to roam the camp/settlement in the care of other werak members (possibly elder hunters?) whenever the parents are out and about. Easy to add one or more orphans to that gaggle of chaos. Raising children is a communal effort for the Nora, so maybe it's similar for the Banuk? It would honestly just make sense.)

Headcanon time! Banuk edition

So we already know that there are many many different Weraks within the Banuk tribe. We also know that they all have their own way of going about things, with different levels of intensity. The White Teeth (the werak associated with Ikrie's questline), for example, is very strict about the survival capabilities of its members, as new recruits must be able to survive four days and nights alone on a glacier. It's doubtful the White Teeth are the only werak with these ideals.

So with that in mind, that leads me to this question: what happens to the babies? Now it's fairly simple to imagine that a member of these weraks who could not keep up with the extreme lifestyle would either be ostracized or die trying to keep up (and in some cases left to die). But I feel that a baby would be treated (slightly) differently. Yes, a child is incapable of many of the actions required by the werak they were born into, but they have the potential to grow. Their weakness isn't a failing at this point, it is an inherent aspect of children which (in the eyes of the werak) can be overcome. I doubt many weraks would leave infants to die (though it's not unheard of) and that's where this headcanon comes in.

It is a common occurrence (at least to the degree that it isn't considered strange in Banuk culture) that the children of these extreme weraks are left in the care of other weraks. Some may know their heritage, others may not, depending on their birth parents and the werak that raised them. Should they wish to become a member of their parent's werak they are usually just as welcomed as any other Banuk.

Some weraks have many of these orphaned children because their land borders that of several extreme weraks. This may even become a part of their identity. Other times there may be only one due to one or both of the groups being nomadic. I believe the extremist weraks would want to be rid of a child as soon as possible, if a nearby werak recently had a birth then they're in luck, they won't have to wait for the infant to be weaned off of milk if they are able to pay the mother to raise the child. Otherwise they will have to wait.

Additionally, the parents of the child could be shunned by their werak as well. Obviously such a werak is no place for children, but people are people and sometimes babies happen. If the child becomes a large burden on the werak, I could see both parents being shunned until the problem is solved. (There's also something to be said here about how childbirth isn't something you just bounce back from and go back to roughing it on a glacier, but this headcanon is about orphans.)

Long story short, it isn't uncommon for weraks to raise the children of these extreme weraks. Many of these kids will remain in the werak they were raised by, some not even knowing they weren't born a part of it to begin with. Others will strive to join the werak of their parents, even if they don't know who they are. And yet others will feel abandoned, not feeling as though they belong to either werak. They might choose to strike out on their own or join a completely different werak.

A/N

WHYYYYY don't we know ANYTHING about Banuk family units??? do they even stay with their parents or is it a group thing??? literally the only people who mention having alive family is Ourea and Aratak and they're siblings. Do parents actually raise specifically their kids or is it like a whole gaggle of moms and dads working together on shifts? Are there weraks that function as giant daycares/boarding schools? I'm just trying to make some sense out of all this. One thing is for sure though: the White Teeth are not gonna keep kids around but kids are still gonna happen. That's life (literally).

[mead-iocre]

Hold My Hand | Leah Williamson x Reader 

synopsis: hiding each other was not an option anymore.

warnings: none :)

wc: 1.2k words

As the final whistle blew, the stadium erupted into cheers. You stood amongst the crowd, your still heart racing from those 90 minutes of pure exciting football. Arsenal had just clinched the Championship, a hard-fought victory that left every single fan in the stadium breathless.

The evening sky, a painting deep oranges and purples, and the stadium lights illuminated a bright glow over the players who were celebrating on the pitch, but your eyes were fixed firmly on your girlfriend.

She stood out, even in the chaos, with her blonde ponytail slightly tousled from the game, her kit smeared with dirt and grass, sweat glistening on her forehead, but a wide smile settled on her face. You could see her eyes scanning the crowd, her eyes searching for you. When your gazes meet, a mixture of overwhelming pride and an intense longing to be near her. 

She started jogging towards you, weaving through the sea of teammates, staff, and pitch volunteers. The barrier between the stands and the pitch seemed far, but Leah approached it with determined strides. She doesn’t stop to talk to anyone, only granting them a quick nod and smile, otherwise her sole focus was on you. She steps over the barrier, marching over until she is standing right in front of you. The only thing separating the two of you is the metal barrier. You moved closer, fingers wrapping around the cool metal of the railing, your eyes never leaving Leah’s.

For a moment, you simply looked at each other, the noise of the crowd fading into a distant hum. Leah reached out first, her fingers brushing against yours on the barrier.

“You did it, Lee!” You shouted over the noise, your voice breaking slightly with emotion.

“We did it,” Leah replied, her voice strong and clear. “You were with me every step of the way, baby.”

You could feel your heart swell with emotion– pride, relief and happiness all at once. You wanted to climb over the barrier, to close the distance and hold your girlfriend tight, but you knew you couldn’t. The both of you weren’t public, and for a while, you were content for it to stay that way. The raise of Leah’s fame meant that people in her life were often scrutinised and exposed, and the Arsenal defender was adamant that she did not want you to go through that. However, it was during moments like this where you wished you could kiss your girlfriend without worrying about other people’s reactions. It’s times like this when you longed to be able to wear her name on the back of your shirt without people speculating and over analysing every single interaction online. 

You settled for squeezing her fingers, trying to convey all the love you felt in that simple touch, desperately holding yourself back from kissing her in front of all of these people who probably already had their phones out. 

But Leah surprised you when she leaned over the barrier, pulling you into her for a hug. She wrapped her arms around your waist tightly, burying her face into the crook of your neck. You were frozen for a second before instincts took over and you were folding her in your arms in return. Her breath was warm against your neck and you swear she sneaks a kiss against the spot where your shoulder meets your neck. 

You feel her whisper against your skin. “Love you, baby. Thank you for being here”

Turning your head so it lightly grazes her ear, you whisper right back. “Am I a good girlfriend for following you halfway around the world to be here?”

Leah chuckles, her breath warm against your neck. She pulls back slightly until you are seeing eye to eye but she still hasn’t moved her arms away from you. You had no doubt the rumours will start to swirl again. “The best, baby.”

For another moment, you only looked at each other, before Leah breaks the silence. “D’you want to come onto the pitch? Join us for a lap around?”

“But people will talk…”

“Yeah but I don’t care about that– do you?”

“No…”

“Then come on, baby” She makes a ‘come here’ gesture with her hands excitedly, a big smile on her face. You saw the exhilaration, her love, and the silent invitation written all over her face. With a barely perceptible nod, you agreed. 

Leah grabs you around the waist, lifting you over the barrier until your feet are touching the hers. You squeeze her bicep in gratitude before she grabs your hand and pulls you towards the small crowd gathered in the middle of the pitch. The team all knew you– and your relationship with Leah– and they’ve done everything they can to keep the speculations off of you, so a few eyebrows raised when they saw you two walking towards them with your hands clasped together. You think you saw Beth nudge Lotte on the arm from your peripheral but you can’t be sure.

“Ya joining us for a lap, darling?” Katie says as she greets you with a hug before she turns to Leah with a grin. “Nice of you to allow us to see her once in a while, skipper!”

Leah just narrows her eyes at the Irish, playfully nudging her away. “Piss off, Katie” 

Before you had a chance to join the conversation, Leah was dragging you away by the hand, weaving through the crowd of her teammates until the both of you are towards the front of the group. Aware of the hundreds of eyes around the stadium, you attempt to shake off your girlfriend’s grip but all she does is intertwine your fingers together. 

With wide eyes, you tug her hand, leaning close to the blonde beside you. “Lee…what are you doing?”

Blue eyes meet yours, the perfect blend of sky and sea. You swear the colour of her eyes are the prettiest shade of blue you had ever seen. “Holding my girl’s hand.”

“…in front of all these people?”

Her blue eyes were the first thing you noticed when you saw her for the first time. When she was moody, they would darken slightly. Her eyebrows would draw together sharply, forming a deep furrow above the bridge of her nose, casting a shadow that made her eyes appear even more intense. Every time she laughed or smiled, the corners of her eyes would crinkle with amusement, the blues appearing lighter and serene.

When the world feels a too big, and you feel like cowering into your own little corner, Leah was right there beside you. Looking into those eyes granted a feeling of comfort– offering a gentle reassurance that no matter the storm raging outside, you was always home when you were with her. Right now, her gaze was steady and they spoke of quiet strength that promised safety. 

From the beginning, you both knew the risks. The media was relentless, especially when they find out that their beloved England captain has a life outside of football, a life they are not privy to. Fans are always hunting for a peek into their favourite footballers’ personal lives and the backlash might be too much. The sad reality is that the world of football is not always kind to those who deviated from their “norm”. However, the alternative—continuing to hide each other—was no longer an option.

As you walk hand in hand around the pitch, you felt that there was an unspoken promise emitting from the girl beside you– a promise that you will be cherished, and that your fears and doubts were safe to share with her.

A squeeze of your hand. 

“In front of all of these people.”

feeling a bit inspired lately so I hope you enjoyed this one. next one might be an alexia fic...

ps. told yall I would post today (and I stuck to it!!!)

-- kisses, butter.

[bumblebeehug]

no bc Hans telling Anna (the little sister, aka me) “if only there was someone who loved you” actually changed my brain chemistry and permanently severed the nerve that made me feel lovable. unfortunately this happened before the scene where Elsa’s true sisterly love saves her and Anna gets together with Kristoff so none of those scenes saved me from the permanent damage that came with the entire Hans thing. also i don’t think it helps that love is an open door is the best song (after the ice cutting song in the beginning) bc i actually fell in love with Hans and his “that’s what i was gonna say!” when Anna said sandwiches instead of sentences

worth mentioning though that Kristoff was my (ALL TIME) fave from the moment he entered the movie. the love bombing from Hans rubbed me wrong, even when i was 9

[soldiersgirl]

SMOKE BREAK .ᐟ

summary ⭑ ben had been struggling, but finally he and the boys got somewhat of a win. that meant celebrating and finally letting a little joy into his life. cw ⭑ joint!reader x soldier boy. mentions of fighting, blood, death. mentions of sex and herogasm. mentions of the boys (butcher, hughie, annie, m.m) & homelander & oc supe (genii). mentions of ben's trauma and daddy issues. mentions of drugs (weed). swearing. yelling. word count ⭑ 1,974 words

a punch. a grunt. the sound of a man falling to his knees. soldier boy was ruthless, as always. working his way through the violent crowd with ease, like a boxer gliding and weaving through the oncoming onslaught of jabs and hooks. butcher and annie were handing out their punches like candy on halloween to keep the pissed-off supes at bay whilst hughie and m.m tried their best to subdue with halothane bombs. ben's eyes flickered between them all and felt a minuscule shiver go down his spine as the scene in front of him unfolded. herogasm turned out to be more bloody than soldier boy remembered it.

and it only grew bloodier by the minute as more and more casualties fell in the heat of the battle. it wasn't as simple as good versus bad, it never had been. it was about bad versus worse and ben was ready to end it once and for all. to finally lay down homelander and take his righteous place as america's hero. the way it was supposed to be and always should have been.

like the good and loyal soldier ben is, he punched, pushed and stabbed anyone who dared stand in his way to homelander. he was ready for this to end, here and now. the way homelander made a mockery of supes made ben sick to his stomach. every time he stole a glance at the blonde false god, his blood boiled and his indispensable rage took over. it's all going according to butcher's plan. yells of frustration and unfiltered rage sliced overtook the previous moans and groans of pleasure that had filled the tnt twins sex-infested apartment.

as ben let his soldier instincts take over, the swing of his shield and slash of his trusted knife is second-nature to him. despite the gore and guts, he almost feels at home amongst the chaos. now only one thing stood between ben and john, one last supe to take down before ben could taste victory. they circled and stalked each other like ravenous predators, each twitch and flinch analysed, waiting for the right moment to strike. genii's power was almost as unpredictable as ben; his ability to gain wishes at random had become infamous. one touch and any wish you had could be granted, but you never knew which or when it would happen. it either ended in success or catastrophe whenever genii was around and ben was adamant to ensure that he didn't get his hands on anyone. until he did.

in the heat of the moment, homelander had lifted and thrown butcher into soldier boy making him stumble and lose his step. his trusted tin case, carrying his long-time lucky joint, fell out from in between his chest and enforced chest plate making ben scramble after it. he was saving it as a celebration and he wasn't gonna let it go now after all this time. genii charged ahead and seized the rare opportunity of ben's loss of control and grabbed soldier boy roughly by the jaw, while ben grasped his tin case like his life depended on it.

"get fuckin' off me, you dick!" ben growled as they scuffled and threw fists, but it was too late for ben. genii's eyes rolled into the back of his head and stood completely frozen as ben started to convulse and fell into an unconscious state. his case slipping from his fingers as darkness took over and the last he heard was the desperate yelling from the boys.

the boys had carried ben's heavy, unconscious body into butcher's trusty cadillac as he slowly came back to reality. he immediately started swinging, his body still in fight or flight mode.

"easy, lad!" butcher yelled as he pinned ben's arms back whilst he thrashed and yelled.

"let me at him! i'm gonna fucking kill him!" ben breathed harshly through his nose, his chest heaving as his eyes glided over the boys in front of him, their expressions unreadable. he slowly started to surrender and laid back against the leather seats, closing his eyes and silently beating himself up. the others sat themselves in the car as butcher explained how "technically" it was a success as they managed to make homelander bleed; a rare occurrence. ben only scoffed and sighed in the backseat at each of butcher's words. until annie, mostly begrudgingly, slides something into ben's unsuspecting hands; his tin case. his eyes shot up but they never meet hers as she glances out the window and acts like nothing happened. ben feels a smile flicker across his lips as he looks down and caresses his precious case that had been with him through thick and thin, more than anyone else.

his thumb followed along the curves and indents that decorated the battered tin case – an old altoids mint case that his father had given him as a child. his father hadn't given him much, but he knew ben's weakness for mints and would occasionally gift him one or two, when he was in the mood. he silently admired the scratches that ran along its sides, a sign of the love and use that ben had gotten out of it. this case was the last gift he had gotten from his father before he turned his back on him. it's all he had left of what he once called a family. a sickening, unfamiliar feeling washed over ben and he was sure it was going to swallow him whole.

trashing his apartment didn't ease the pain like ben had hoped for. he knew butcher was right, it has been the closest they had come to winning. to taking down homelander. but they weren't close enough. ben sat amongst his self-made chaos and gazed at his beloved case once again, opening and closing the lid. finding comfort in the whine of the hinges and the nostalgic aroma of his favourite weed blend rolled into his lucky joint.

he sprawled out onto the bed with a loud sigh going over his faults, his mistakes, trying to figure out how he could get better and finally take down the blonde menace. he took out the joint and held it in his hand, feeling the weight and admiring the curve of it. the only thing that could bring him comfort, that could silence his father's loud criticisms that constantly haunts him. he laid the lucky joint on his rolling tray that had it's permanent spot next to ben's pillow, planning on smoking it in the morning to finally bring him the luck he needed. he laid there, staring aimlessly at the ceiling, wishing he could rely on someone rather than something. maybe this would all be easier if he did, but that's something he guesses he will never know as he finally rolls over and falls into a deep hibernation.

until an arm slings itself around his waist. his eyes snap open. his breathing stops. the usual silence in his cluttered space was disturbed by a second slow, rhythmic breathing. ben dives forward and grabs the knife hidden under his bedside table and shoots up out of the bed, knife at the ready to defend himself.

"what the fuck?! how the fuck did you get in here..? what.. the fuck is going on?!" ben yells, bombarding you with questions as his eyes glide over your slumbering form as you slowly start to sit up and rub your eyes; any lack of surprise on your end. you sleepily gaze up at him, realisation sets in and you lock up. every muscle and nerve stiff, a moment of peace, before reality sets in.

"oh my god... oh my god, oh fuck... no, what?" you mumble to yourself as you slowly roll and test out all your limbs and appendages, touching your face and body in disbelief, the duvet covering your exposed body. you wiggle your hands and toes and can't stop a soft giggle from escaping as you gaze around in amazement, despite the current state of ben's apartment. you stretched, traced the soft features of your face and grabbed at your own cheeks.

"hey!" ben's commanding voice slices through the tranquility of the moment. your eyes finally rest on his shivering form, the adrenaline pumping through him like a raging river after a storm.

"it's so nice to see something other than the inside of that tin case you've been keeping me in." you softly state.

"what? what?" ben yells, brandishing the knife. "you crazy bitch, i.." his limbs go limp for a second as his usual stoic mask falters. "what the fuck did you say?"

"you kept me prisoner in that thing for ages. i was wondering when you were finally going to let me out. see the world." you give him a soft smile as you point around his room. ben was sure he had been drugged, even poisoned. this could not be fucking happening. "the way i got thrown around yesterday inside during that fight you guys get in, i have such a headache." you groan. the knife clatters across ben's floor as he drops it and studies you closely.

"have you been fuckin' following me?" he seethes. "how fuckin' long, huh? were you at fuckin' herogasm and decided to stalk me here?" ben starts on a tirade but you quickly shut up him with comforting hushes and shaking of the head.

"i would never hurt you and you know that. i was made to help you. you made me to help you." you say with the warmth he would usually feel with his mouth wrapped around you and inhaling deeply into his trained lungs.

it all clicked.

genii. his wish. his stupid, fuckin' pussy-ass wish to not be alone. and there you are.

ben's disbelief morphed into a state of utter rage. he leapt forward, grabbed you harshly by the shoulders and shook you, but all you could do was laugh.

"this ain't no fucking comedy club! did butcher put you up to this?"

"ben!" you manage to yell through your laughter. "it's me. i only know you! i mean, i've heard the others' voices but you're the only one i could ever recognise." you tentatively reach out and caress his face before he flinches and grimaces.

"alright, alright. if you really fuckin' are who i think you are and not some psycho stalker, then you gotta tell me somethin'. prove it." he hisses into your face.

"i know you better than you know yourself, ben. i know and i've felt your deep sadness. i hear your mumblings, when you think no one else is listening." you tried to tread carefully, knowing his explosive temper all too well. "you always keep me right above your heart, between you and your chest armour. i hear your scattered heartbeat whenever you start to think about your dad."

"enough." his voice barely above a whisper.

"i know you lose yourself in whatever you can find. i've felt your sobs and strained breathing when you're finally alone, as you sit and stare at my confinement. wondering why you were never enough. if you'll ever be enough."

"shut the fuck up!" he shook you one final time before throwing his head back in sheer agitation. "don't... fuckin' say another word." he mumbles.

"i've always listened. and i always will. i want to help you, that's why you made me, didn't you?" your voice light like a feather, a contrast against the simmering tension in the room.

"are you tryin' to tell me.. fuck, that you're my lucky joint?" he sits back onto the balls of his feet, all the rage dispersing at the honesty in your voice.

"i think i prefer joi." you confirm with a toothy smile, leaving ben dumbfounded. how the fuck was he going to explain this mess to the boys?

a/n: meet mine and gabriela's (@h8aaz) child!!!! we are so in love with her and hope u guys are too <3 this was so much fun to write and i actually love this concept more than i could've anticipated! joi's masterlist , millie's masterlist , gabriela's masterlist -`♡´- tag list: @bluemerakis @legalmente-loca @faiszt @vmiina @emeraldcrs @briiverse @figthoughts @sl33pylilbunny @jasvtsc @silverwoodlynx @kayleighwinchester @bejeweledinterludes @yooyieu @nperoconelcositoarriba @lanasgirlfr @velvetdandeli0n @iluvdeanwinchester @cowboysandcigarettes @daylighted @valjy @dulcescorderitas @mostlymarvelgirl @syrma-sensei @rositaslabyrinth @blossomingorchids @deansbbyx @mads-ackles @lunaleah (comment or inbox me to be added)

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Mind The Gap - Keeping it private II

Scared and selfish

Toto Wolff x fem!reader

-> masterlist

Summary: When the guy you love somehow get scared by the heaviness of his feelings towards you, it can end in two ways. He will come back or you will never see him again…

Warnings: sadness, heartbreak, ghosting, mention of George (happy ending:))

Word count: 0.7k

A/N: Before we get to another pregnancy part of our Wolff couple, let’s dive in another complication of the start of the relationship. I’m currently going through the similar thing apart from the fact that my story is not finished yet, I’m going slowly crazy and I hope for a happy ending. But I’m old enough to know how life can be shitty so I’m trying to keep at least a bit of my sanity to go on (even though I’m crying to my pillow for the three days now). Enjoy it. :)

———

No messages for three days. You felt something was off when he said goodbye to you when he dropped you off at your home after your last date.

You saw it in his eyes. Vulnerability. Love. Fear.

Thinking it was just how captivated he was by you. No. Clearly not.

Laying in your bed as you did for the last few days you analysed every possible word you said, you texted and every kiss and action you did.

You didn’t know what you did wrong. But that was it. You did nothing wrong. It was all about him. But it hurt like hell. Being in the void of emptiness, that longing in your heart painful and the reel of your mind restless. Feeling frustrated, you shed a lot of tears into your silky pillows, you still held onto the hope that he will call you, that he will appear at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers with those I love you words.

You felt betrayed, your mind probing into the thought of Toto being the smart one, the adult one.

Anger, sadness and denial.

All at once.

Were you not through enough? That shitshow with George. Sneaking around with Toto.

Heart breaking at the mere thought of losing him. You told him back then on that yacht, that you can’t handle another heartbreak. He knew it and still. He was acting like this.

Messaging him did nothing. Calls went straight to the voicemail.

Why bother? He’s clearly off on another of his women.

You were going insane.

Taking a few days off from work you got to your parents house to not be completely alone and catch up to your friends.

Feeling a lot better you still couldn’t shake Wolff from your mind.

Sitting at the restaurant with your friends, you laughed and it felt like old times. Everybody asked you about George, how you went through the breakup with him. You wanted to tell them about Toto, how you finally met “the one”.

Taking uber to the house of your parents, you were so stuck up in your mind that you didn’t notice the black sleek Mercedes. Walking through the threshold of the terrace of your parents house, you saw what you couldn’t even imagine.

Your dad was laughing with… Toto.

Blinking twice you just stood there frozen to the ground. Your dad noticed you first. “Hey, darling, you didn’t tell me that you’re dating a Mercedes’ boss.”

“I-“ you wanted to speak but Toto smiled a little, his eyes full of guilt.

“It’s my fault. I wanted to be a secret. But now I’m here to change it.” He stood up from the sofa, grabbing the bouquet of your favourite flowers and slowly walked towards you. You couldn’t believe it, breath stopping in your chest, eyes watering with tears.

“Toto-“

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I put you in this situation. I was scared, and I needed to think about how I’m good for you, to not hurt you but I managed to hurt you in the process of my selfishness. I’m truly sorry. Can you forgive me, please? I love you. I can’t be without you. You’re my world. My universe.”

His confession made you cry. Every suppressed emotion left your system, collapsing into his arms, and he held you tightly, listening to your heart wrenching sobs.

“I nearly went crazy. You really angered me. Hurt me. I thought you just left me for another woman.” You managed to choke out into his shirt.

Toto felt bad, he really fucked it up. “I’m sorry… I didn’t intend to hurt you. I could never go to another woman. Because you’re the one I want to be with. The one I feel alive with. I won’t ever leave your side again. I won’t ever leave you alone.”

Looking up into his eyes you saw it all. Guilt, hurt, pain, love.

Cupping his cheeks, you cracked a little smile through your tears. “I fucking love you Torger Christian Wolff. Don’t you ever leave me again. Because if so, I’m gonna slit every single tire on every single one of your cars.”

Toto laughed softly. “Of course. I’m counting on it.”

———

Please don’t use my writings without permission! Pictures found on Pinterest.

-

Tags: @mimisweetz

[flowerfreya]

He's Coming For Me

The office AU part 8 i think

This one is not as long but just need to get over the hump of getting rid of the ex lol

Pairing 141! x reader

Masterlist

The next day you wake up with a crick on your neck from sleeping with the worst hotel pillow you’ve had. Other than waking up sore , you feel like you could do anything right now. No one bothers you about what they want for breakfast , bitchin’ about how they need their laundry done. It’s like you can finally breathe. 

You arrive at the office building around 7:45am , not having to get there so early because you have your own car. You walk into the office and see everyone already here. Which causes you to freeze and think, fuck, they got here early because of you, but because you got a car you don’t need to and fuck, you forgot to tell them.

You roll up to Johnny whispering harshly, “What time did you get here”

“Around 6am”

“Why”

“Had extra stuff to caught up on”

“Oh”, you give him a look. You don’t believe him. Not for one second. 

~

Around lunch time and see Gaz and Simon in the break room and you try to make casual talk, you ask about the weather and did you see the latest thing on some celeb, and then you slide in the question, hoping to get the answer you want.

“So….when did you guys get here this morning?”, leaning against the refrigerator , hoping you don’t look as awkward as you feel.

Gaz starts to answer,“We got here around 6-”, but then Simon interrupts him with a question, “When did you get here”, he’s analysing you trying to psych you out. 

“Well, I got here at 7:45”, you tell them. Simon answers back that they got there 15 minutes before you got there. You don’t believe them. Simon is staring straight at you, looking you in the eye but Gaz is the one giving it away, swaying on his feet and looking back at his desk like it would save him from whatever this conversation is. 

“Okay”, you say very skeptically. You turn and walk around and go to the last person that would give you an answer but probably the most difficult to give you the truth. Price. 

You knock on Price’s door , even through it is open. 

He looks up from his computer, “No need to knock, love. Just come on in”. 

You are determined to get the answer, so no small talk and just ask the question,”Did you all get here early because of me”, you say in one breath. 

“No”.

“Are you lying”. 

“No”. 

You make a noise of frustration, you just want to know so you can apologize for wasting their time. You walk to your desk and just stand there about to make an announcement, When the door slams open and you see your ex boyfriend. He looks disheveled. Bags under his eyes. Wearing the same clothes as yesterday. And he’s coming for you. 

“You bitch”,he snarls. He storms towards you, fingers pointed toward you, muttering about how you owe him, that you need him, how you will regret this , your frozen, eyes wide as you take all this in, and then you prepare to get hit. You pull your shoulders up to your eyes, and turn your head so he won’t hit you so hard. 

You never feel the pain , except you hear Simon voice growl, “I wouldn't do that if I were you”. 

You look up to see Price hold your ex back, Simon standing in front of you and Soap standing to the side of you. 

You grab the back of Simon’s shirt, why?, maybe to stabilize you transfer some of his strength to you. 

Your ex is still ranting, but you can’t hear any of it. You feel outside of your body and feel yourself being moved by maybe Gaz, you just know you're no longer in front of your ex and trying to be convinced to drink some water.

[discomxcabre]

petals in ice

viktor x gn!reader

tw // heavy mentions of bullying, ableism, internalised ableism

cw: angsty smut, sub!viktor (but also dom! if you squint), reader worships vik, yearning, confidence issues, love confessions, sky is ooc, gory and religious metaphors, feelings with porn, arguing as foreplay, venting during penetration, viktor is traumatized (reader is too if you squint), size kink (tall reader), body worship, ruined glorious orgasm (in an angsty way), soulfucking, vik smokes, vik is a pillow princess

synopsis: after an alcohol incident, you find yourself with a chance to show viktor, the man you were mesmerized by, how much you desire him. but first, you need to crash the cold, sharp walls he built around himself. not knowing of the petals frozen inside them.

note: why did i tag it like on ao3. just so you know you’ll have to wait for the porn (about 2k words of feelings),(also english is not my first language.) enjoy!

art by seledynove on ig

4,1 k words

They say that alcohol reveals your true desires. It lets you loose of the fears that bind you. It changes you into unpolluted version of yourself.

And it did, back at Jayce’s party. You lost some drinking game, and the amount of pure vodka turned you into a jabbering mess. Saying some dumb shit after some ugly secret. To save your reputation, Sky took you upstairs, away from all the people.

In vain.

Because in the same room as the two of you, sat Viktor, smoking his cigarette and petting a cat. Away from all the people and noise.

He always kept people in a safe distance, not letting them too close to his walls.

You have been enamoured with this quiet man so much it got painful. His sharp mind, constantly analysing, his sweet accent, voicing both scientific jargon and snarky remarks. The handful of moments he spent with you, that you wanted to engrave deeply in your mind with the sharpest chisel you could find, putting care in all tiniest of details.

When he was tutoring you at his dorm, not getting slightly irritated at you not understanding the concepts, as you laid with your eyelids heavy on the desk. But his voice was so calming, you closed your eyes. Three hours of sleep, indeed, had its consequences. You woke up an intangible time later with a blanket on your back.

And Viktor was not mad at all.

When he asked you to walk him back to the dorm from a gathering. You, just you. Just the two of you, together in the cold night. As you listened to him after the whole time he spent quiet, ignored and ignoring. He spoke about science, rain puddles and loneliness.

You were only responding to his words, but you knew he was the only one that could truly understand you. The deep abyss of you, the one buried deeper than your bones, your heart and your blood (your soul).

You wanted to watch over him so much.

Oh, he must have felt so safe in the presence of you. You, someone like you might have given this lovely genius the tender feeling of being protected.

Or when you met him at the café. Hearing his soft voice say “Hello, Y/N”, not knowing how many times you will replay his greeting in your mind, putting care in how he accented every letter of your name. He ordered before you – double espresso with extra sugar. Waiting for your orders, he complained to you about the prices of the pastries.

You wanted these to repeat. And not by meeting him by accident, but by going to get that coffee together. Dedicate your money for his double espresso with extra sugar. Then look at him sipping the coffee.

You wanted to call him yours.

And every time he corrected or criticised you. And you didn’t even feel stupid. When he stood up for you, when you stood up for him. When he reluctantly asked you for help, unable to hide his pains anymore.

(And you did it with a canine honour.)

(You would do anything he asked of you.)

But also his pretty little body. Waist you could encircle with both hands. Tiny figure you could easily pick up, relieving his pains. Sweet face with sharp cheekbones and gentle, golden eyes, that you wouldn’t take your gaze of if he ever found himself in the same sheets as you (when he wakes up in your embrace after you laid your hands on his naked skin), (he then lets you help him with putting on his braces).

So pretty and delicate. So sharp it hurt. So lovely and petite, he turned your guts inside out, making you want to scream in anguish.

But you didn’t scream. You let your mouth do a much worse thing.

And now, Sky was laughing. She was laughing, laying on the table, parroting what you said at that party.

“Hey Vikie, me, you, hook-up, tomorrow?”

And you wanted to bury yourself alive.

“And how did he react?” You just asked and wanted to turn time three seconds back.

“He giggled and agreed. I bet he thought you were joking, though.” Sky stopped herself from laughing. “Just let him know you were serious, if you were.”

***

Next day, you saw him at the library. So dainty and graceful, as he scanned through the books at the engineering section. The students at the table, revising their material, eating crackers and laughing, made a stark contrast to the elegant Zaunite behind them.

“Isn’t it that cripple of Mr. Talis?,” asked a girl, covering herself with a big scarf.

“Poor Jayce, he must be so useless to him,” a guy, probably her boyfriend laughed. The girl giggled.

You wanted to intervene, but Viktor was faster. Taking advantage of the carpet’s softness and its ability to suppress the noise of his cane, he approached the students from behind. So sly.

“Fortunately, it looks like he’s about to die soon,” the girl snarked.

Viktor hit the iron leg of the table with the metal part of his cane.

“Who is that cripple you are talking about, huh?” He leaned on the table.

“No one…” The girl’s tone went up. “You don’t know them anyway.”

“I’m sure I know myself pretty well. Next time don’t gossip about people in their presence, alright?”

He went back to the bookshelf, visibly proud of himself. And you were proud of him too. So much you wanted to kiss all over his face and inform the universe: that’s my man!. (But he wasn’t and he never will.)

After all, it was just a hook-up.

The boy bared his teeth at him, muttering something against his breath. And you just caught yourself leaning against the bookshelf, staring at him with adoration. You fixed yourself.

Viktor got next to you, looking up at a thick volume above.

“Hi, Vik.” You greeted him, looking down to see his face. It was usually him who greeted you first. “About that hookup… I was being serious. Do you want to?”

Viktor got up on his toes and reached his arm, trying to get the book. “Hello, Y/N.” His voice was sharp, sounding like he was trying to thicken the wall between the two of you. “I do.”

“Do you need help?,” You asked. “Should I get that book for you?”

He said nothing, instead putting his cane up, hooking the book with it’s handle.

“No.”

The atmosphere was choking. You knew you did something wrong and the answer was coated in a thick, freezing fog.

“Are you okay?”

Viktor looked up at you, examining your expression like a calculation. “I am.” Then, he walked away to the librarian, trying to hide his limp.

Yes, the frail scientist had a sharp tongue and used it when needed. But he was always so gentle with you. Was it about the hookup? You were consumed by disgust with yourself. Making someone you adore so much talk to you as if you were just a leech.

For the rest of the day, you couldn’t focus. On classes, on your environment, even your sensations. If your head was not trapped in the colorless haze, you would definitely count, how many people you bumped on.

***

Viktor came to your dorm at the evening, when the firmament blackened and the air got cold. Gas lamps lightened up the snow with a yellow light. He walked like a soldier sent to his certain death, looking at you like you were pointing a gun and he had no bulletproof vest on his chest.

„You realize how horrible you are, Y/N? How cruel your little joke is?”

“What are you talking about?” You stood up from your desk chair.

“This.” He grunted. His face was in darkness, as the only light in the room was the gas lamp on your desk. “How you think you’re so funny for luring a cripple to your bedroom, making him think you two will fuck, just so you can brag about it.”

“Jumping to conclusions, huh? I expected better of a scientist.” You came closer to him. ‘And I have really appreciated you as one, Viktor.”

“As a scientist. You still just want to fuck me to have something to brag to your friends about at parties, do you?”

“I don’t. I thought you were smart.”

“I am. I don't fall for old tricks anymore.”

“This is not a trick!” Your gaze became blurry from tears. You jumped on Viktor, hugging him, as he almost sank in your arms. “I want to do it because you’re the most mesmerizing man I have ever met in my life. I truly never felt anything similar to anyone, but you.”

“That sounded… genuine. You’re a talented actor, Y/N.”

Your hands gripped Viktor’s fragile shoulders. “This is not an act!” You tried to catch a breath. Breathe in. Breathe out. Too fast to catch any air, just enough to rip your lungs.

Viktor curled up in your grip, golden eyes wide open. His tiny chest was rising and falling.

“Please, just say you don’t want to.” You tried to make your voice as gentle as possible. “I don’t want to hurt someone I adore so much.” Your hand rested on his cheekbone, your thumb caressing his delicate, pale skin.

“I haven’t experienced a real intercourse before. I would appreciate if I got to experience it with you.”

“Oh, Viktor, my Viktor.” You picked him up bridal style, nuzzling your face in his chest. He smelled of metal, gasoline and sweat. A tear from your eye soaked into the material of his clothing.

His hand gripped the cane like it was about to vanish, leaving him without any support.

You sat on the cold, white sheets of the bed, savoring his scent, the feeling of his protruding bones and the lightness of his silhouette against your lap.

You let yourself appreciate his disheveled beauty: messy, chestnut hair covered in sweat, droopy, golden eyes looking at you from under bushy brows, the dark eyebags, big nose, thin and chapped lips, dark moles, each one saying kiss me, sharp cheekbones ready to meet your palms, Adam’s apple and sternomastoid showing on his long neck.

Now you could build a cage and lock him in, then look at him for eternity.

“I’m sure you won’t be able to cum just by looking at me, Y/N.” Viktor commanded. “Undress me.”

You slid your fingers under the line of material covering the buttons in his vest. Your fingers did one careful movement after another, unbuttoning the vest covering his little torso. After the last button, he threw the clothing on the floor.

Another vest, black as the view of the window. It was easier. Just three buttons and the piece of cloth went on the floor where it belonged.

You took Viktor off your lap, sitting him on the edge of the bed. Then, you kneeled before him like an altar. He was so divine, looking at you with eyes golden like a reliquary. And you looked up at him. Guess the roles reversed. You left a kiss on his brace.

“Tell me how to take it off,” you asked, tracing your fingers through the cold metal holding his leg.

“You see this clasp? Loosen it.”

You did as he told. You slid the brace off his leg.

Your fingers traveled to the buttons in his pants. Unbuckling one after the other, receiving more view of his white boxers and bush that peeked from them. He was hard, you saw it bulging. And it was so wet it soaked. You slid his pants down.

In the name of fairness, you took of your shirt. The January cold hit your skin, giving you goosebumps.

Viktor’s legs were a piece of fine art. Between his slender thighs, there was a gap. The delicate skin was covered in thin, dark hair. He had another brace on his weak leg.

“Can I take that one off too?” You asked him, your hands encompassing his thigh.

He nodded. “You will have to unscrew this.”

And you did. His skin was painted with an imprint of the brace in the colour of wine. You traced your finger over the rosy lines. Milky skin on his inner thighs seemed sheer with blue veins showing through. Your lips touched him there, letting you delight in the coldness, velvety smoothness of it and the salty taste of his sweat. His chapped lips parted and you got to hear sounds so sweet you would never ever need sugar. You savored his raspberry flavored moans, sighs, whimpers (and you were hungry).

“Can I get up?” You looked up at him, at his honey-colored eyes, licking your lips from the icing that wasn't there physically.

“You can.”

You sat up on the bed and pulled Viktor onto your lap. He was leaning on you, his breath hitting your chin. Your legs between his. His small, agile hands on your chest. You took his hand and it felt like a feather. Despite being covered in sturdy skin, his bones resembled filigree.

„You’re so tiny. It’s endearing.”

„Say whatever, Y/N. I know tomorrow you will tell Sky how naïve I was and how you rather would fuck someone bigger and healthier.” Despite all the tenderness and devotion, his ice was left uncrushed. Even as he sat half-naked on your lap. You squeezed his wrist. “You can already go to her and laugh how I am a virgin.”

“You’re a virgin?”

“Let’s say I consider myself one. Only time I did it was when a guy used me as a dildo, came on me and left when my leg started cramping and he couldn’t bounce anymore. Then told his friends he fucked that cripple from the undercity. It must have been truly amusing for him.” He smirked, then leaned closer to your face, as you barely felt his hands on your shoulders (but you felt his golden stare penetrating through your skin). “I want to ask you for a favor, Y/N. Show me how is it like to be made cum by someone that respects you. If you do.”

“I do.”

“That sounded genuine.”

You continued undressing him, starting with his tie (so close to his Adam’s apple), (his neck was smaller your hand). You loosened it, letting the red leash fall onto the pile of cloth on the floor. Then the first button in his shirt.

Viktor’s delicate hand wrapped among your fingers. “The shirt stays on.”

“Please. Please, just two buttons,” you panted.

“Two buttons.”

So you undid them, exposing sharp collarbones on his narrow shoulders. You let your lips kiss his neck, your teeth – bite his porcelain skin, but not to bite it off and devour (and let his blood sprinkle onto the both of you like holy water of an aspergillum).

“You taste… holy.” You whimpered, feeling the tears in your eyes coating the image of his beauty.

Viktor turned his head to the side, and covered his mouth. Then he coughed, his tiny figure convulsing. Heartshattered by the painful sound, you tightened your grip, stroking his skin with your finger and hushing. After it stopped, he looked at you again, with a fog in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He said, shifting, almost about to leave your lap. “Go tell Sky how I’m turning you off.”

Your fingers clawed into his hips. “You’re not going anywhere. Not until I fulfill my promise.” You catched a piece of fabric of his boxers in between two fingers.

“Just… please, be gentle.” Viktor shifted from opening his legs to sitting perpendicularly, with his head turned towards you.

Since you were close, you took of his underwear, revealing a dark bush that his happy trail was leading to.  You touched his cock like it was the redness of his heart and softness of his soul. Stroking as gentle as he asked you. Your hand swallowed all of his length.

He curled his legs up, hugged your neck and nuzzled his face into your throat.

“I’m glad I trusted you, Y/N.” He murmured, dripping in vulnerability. Your free hand stroked his chestnut hair.

“Really?”

“Really.” He commanded, stroking your back. “Now fulfill your promise and fuck me properly.”

You took Viktor’s face in your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “And what position should I fuck you in?” He looked so tired.

“Nothing to demanding. No writhing or bending in half. Let me lay down.”

And you laid him down on the bed. He was so pretty you were about cry and let him drink your tears. With shirt falling off his shoulder. Legs crossed at the ankles, hands hugging his chest. You took of your bottom and underwear. He started trembling with golden eyes flickering.

“Would you mind if I had a smoke?”

He was looking at the pack of cigarettes and a lighter peeking out of the pocket in his pants. You bent down to take it out and gave it to him. Then you sat on top of him. Light of the fire illuminated his pale face, creating a shadow on his nose and cheekbones. You could almost feel the warmth. Tip of the cigarette shined with an orange spark. Smoke shown it’s outline in the air, vanished in it like it never existed. Viktor put the blunt between his chapped lips. He inhaled the nicotine into his weak and frail lungs. Smoke left his mouth.

You put a pillow under his leg, then traced the inner thigh with your finger. “Are you ready?”

“I think I do.” He husked. You took his hand into yours.

You groaned, as you made your bodies merge into one organism (careful not to shatter him). Viktor squeezed your hand tightly. A moan left his mouth. His eyes squeezed.

Your finger caressed his hand, as you moved slowly, in the same rhythm he was breathing. His eyes opened.

“Please, speak for me. Your accent is beautiful. Confess what made you grow your walls, if I deserve the knowledge of it.”

“You want to be the first one to know?” Viktor’s eyes glossed from tears. He inhaled more smoke. “Okay, then.”

“I’m listening.”

“There were some kids once. They befriended me, as I could make toys out of nothing for us to play. Sky told me they laughed in my absence at how I walk, how loud I breathe and how awkward I am.” His voice was composed and the cigarette was being fidgeted by his fingers.

You were right, he was really the only one who had the knowledge understand your underneath.

“Oh, and once when I was a teen,” he continued with a sad smile. You laid on him, careful not to crush his fragile body under yours. “A guy asked me for a hook-up in some abandoned factory. He took his friends. They all beat me up and broke my cane in half. But at least they had entertainment watching how I struggled to move.”

Your heart hurt, as Viktor’s words torn it apart, spilling blood and tears everywhere. And he was crying too. Grinding his teeth, golden eyes drenched in blood. It was the first time you saw him in such state.

„My baby, my baby. My poor baby…” He was like a dirty, broken porcelain doll. And you loved him like the child that used all the glue to put it back into one shape. “Who did this to you?”

“The Zaun kids.”

“Give me names.”

“For what? Half of them don’t remember and half are dead by now.”

Viktor barely finished saying the word now, and choked on air and smoke of his cigarette. You left his pelvis. Tears dripped from his eyes, and his long eyelashes were damp from them. He squealed like a baby dog covered in mud. You hushed at him, seeing as he curled into a ball underneath you. He snorted ugly.

„Please, dont cry…. You’re hurting yourself.” You were reminded of his lung disease making every breath of his painful. “Breathe.”

He tried, but it only resulted in shallow, shaky gasps. You swept a bunch of damp hair of his forehead.

“That’s it, Viktor. You’re doing so good. Just a bit more, okay?”

As your voice soothed him, the falling and rising of his chest slowed down. He opened his eyes. But his skin was still shaking.

“Can we continue?” he rasped, then covered his mouth to cough.

“If you are ready.”

“I am.”

You connected back with his body. Viktor whimpered, as you covered him like a blanket, warming his cold skin, binding your arms around his shoulders. You were his shield.

You moved, listening how his breaths of fading sorrow turn into breaths of ascending serenity.

***

And Viktor felt safe.

Under your figure towering just centimeters over him, as your repeated movements put him in a gentle bliss. He let his mouth sing sweet sounds just for you and nobody else to hear. Smoke escaped the tip of the cigarette he held.

He exposed his crippled leg, rotting lungs and the mix of skin and bones he was, for you to worship. He permitted you to touch all the vulnerability of the fragile lily inside him. Dropping the weapon that was distrust and letting you under his delicate skin (the lily was blooming).

And you received him in all his awkwardness.

You kissed his cheekbone and he ascended. He hugged you, as if you were about to vanish, clawing his fingers into the skin of your back. Pleasure blinded him, and he only knew he was about to convert into a soaking mess. His lips cried out moans until his breath was to heavy to voice anything lower than ultrasound. He saw God on the ceiling, but it was just you fulfilling the promise.

“Fuck.”

And his leg electrocuted him back into the weak thing he was before.

You moved away. Gave him space.

He curled into a ball of pain. Leg shot metal nails up his spine, tearing his flesh apart. Viktor weeped quietly, not shedding a tear. He was just shaking.

“I'm sorry,” he sniffled.

You hushed at him. “Do you want to stop?”

He nodded. You brushed your hand along his spine, then cradled him in between your arms and legs like a nest. It made his pain bearable. You were as wet as him (sweat of two bodies merged into one fluid).

Your strong hands took his leg and massaged the pain out of his muscles. Viktor moaned in relief. After you chased away his pains, you laid down with him and covered both of you in a blanket.

Viktor rolled over to your side. You were as naked as in your birth, and he was wearing just a shirt. He unbuttoned it, letting you see his back brace. No, he took it off completely and knew you were looking with adoration at what he saw as rotten. He knew your eyes savored in the sight of his small, bony arms, brace that held him in place and protruding collarbones like they were a feast. You encircled your arms around his waist.

“You’re the first I ever let saw me naked that was not a doctor,” he said.

“It’s a privilege for me.”

And he studied your face. (He made a scientific breakthrough by discovering how a human looked while seeing an angel.) Your eyes were glossed with tears.

You really had only pure intentions. How couldn’t you?

The same you who fell asleep at his table and murmured his name unconsciously? And how you just before that could not grasp any of the concepts? He hid his annoyance, knowing how sensitive you were.

The same one who walked him back home after that gathering? The one that listened to his thoughts (not judging a single word), when there was just the two of you on the street? Either way, he preferred to talk to only one person, since he couldn't break through in a group when everyone was talking over each other. You made him feel so safe, too. Towering over the tinyness of him like a stronghold.

The one he was always meeting at the café (he even remembered your order)? You, who listened to him complain about the prices and didn’t even call him a grump. If you only didn’t have to hurry for the class and stayed a bit more alongside him as he worked in the café.

The picture of you and Sky laughing, as you told her how pathetic of a lover Viktor was became so absurd he’d rather believe in God.

You smiled with teary eyes, then pulled him closer.

“I want to lie in the same grave as you, Viktor.”

[sadiestarrs]

To Meet A Jinx

this is part one!!

Warnings: none :)) just one mention of a gun

A/N: this is my first arcane/ jinx fic so if it's terrible I'm sorry lol

Plot: You work for Silco and his infamous adopted daughter Jinx, except you’ve never met her until now.

Word count: 1,535

Everybody in the city knew about Silco’s insane, blue-haired, and seemingly manic daughter, Jinx. Working for him meant that you were around his henchmen 24/7 and they definitely talked about her.

Most things said about her ranged from the fact that she looked innocent but could blow your face off or that she did actually blow someone's face off that day.

You had heard Sevika complain, too, especially on shipment days. They were always the busiest and most stressful. Silco made sure to have his trusted members on the ship “just to be safe”. 

He had no reason to make everyone work, mostly because he had Jinx. Everyone knew that she could take on twenty people double her size and still win. You hadn’t seen her do anything remotely close to this but it wasn’t hard to believe.

When more than half of a city knows you for being a bloodthirsty killer, of course, they would be weary. But you still weren’t that convinced.

Some older workers talked about a young Jinx running into Silco’s arms with him hugging back and taking her in immediately. Silco didn’t look like the type of guy to appreciate hugs from anyone but it was clear he loved Jinx. And that had to be for a reason.

“I want you to keep an eye on those two,” Sevika says to you, directing people carrying crates. The two men she pointed at were getting on each other's nerves, shoving and bumping one another for no reason. They must have had other issues away from work. 

Your main job was to solve disputes and help Sevika. It didn’t take much but when there were problems, they were always big.

The two guys had moved out of sight and started bothering each other again, causing commotion and yelling. Before you could get around to them, three shipments were falling on the floor, creating a bright purple pool on the ground. 

Everyone had started shoving, making it too much to handle. People were on the floor, glass was being shoved into the soles of your shoes, and most importantly, nearly 500 coins worth of shimmer had been wasted.

Sevika was definitely going to blame you and no one would fess up. You couldn’t even get to the core of the fight before being shoved to the floor and cutting your hand on a large shard of glass.

It didn’t take much to lose all hope for the future. Not only would Silco fire you, but he would make you pay one way or another. None of those things were appealing, especially considering the fact that you desperately wanted to leave this chapter of your life behind. But not before getting a bit of cash and ditching Zaun.

You were sitting helpless, contemplating your life when a shot was fired. It was hard to see through the crowd but it stopped everyone, all the men scattering and moving away.

In front of you was a, surprisingly short, girl, braids nearly touching the floor, holding a revolver and looking around the ship.

No one made eye contact with her. No one went near her. They all went back to their original places as if the fight never happened.

Jinx.

Just her presence alone was enough to make everyone nervous. You hadn’t even realised that you were still sitting on the floor when she came towards you, holding the gun’s handle out. 

It took you a few seconds before realising that she was helping you up. It was enough to make the workers stop. From the corner of your eye, Sevika stood, arms folded, looking at the both of you. You could have sworn that she was laughing when you held on and got up. 

It brought you extremely close to her face, enough to see her baby-blue eyes glimmer. A smile pokes from the side of her mouth. She stood, analysing your face, eyes, lips. You couldn’t move if you tried, she had hypnotised you.

“What the hell is happening here?”

Silco appeared, frozen on the spot. “I spend half of my life working to make life better for all of you and I’m paid with this?”

It was almost symbolic, the liquid sitting under his shoes, mixing with the dirt and mud on the ground and turning into a deeper purple.

“Jinx?” He looks at her but she doesn’t deviate from you. Her body was rigid, completely cornering you.

Confusion was apparent in his expression, looking over at Sevika who only replies with a smirk.

“Jinx!”

Another glimmer appears in her eyes just before she turns around and walks past Silco, no words said.

No one moves or says anything but everyone was looking at you. Sevika pushes off of the wall she was leaning on, leaving the ship, still laughing.

If it wasn’t for your increased heartbeat, you would have questioned the event but too much had happened. Why did she help you up? Why did she analyse you? Why did she ignore Silco?

The questions rushed to your head faster than you could comprehend and faster than you could move after Silco ordered you to go with him. 

He simply pointed, and yelled, “You!” starting to walk faster than you could keep up with. 

______________________________________

“What relationship do you have with Jinx?”

Standing in front of Silco in his office with Sevika next to him was never a place you imagined to be. It almost felt like being in a principal’s office and getting scolded.

You didn’t have a “relationship” with Jinx. You had only met her a few minutes ago on the ship. Everything that happened was unplanned and, frankly, strange. And being interrogated by both of them didn’t help.

“I-I don’t have a relationship with her.” The words were staggered and hard to come out. Your heart had only slowed by a few beats but you could still feel it against your skin.

“That isn’t what I saw. Jinx doesn’t do things like that, meaning that you must have something to do with her.” 

His reasoning didn’t make any sense. Just because she looked at you for a few minutes doesn’t mean that anything happened. 

“Jinx is like a daughter to me. I would hate to have anything happen to her.” Silco continues talking, fiddling with his shimmer eye injection tool. It was nice seeing how much he cared for Jinx but in the end, nothing would happen between you two for a multitude of reasons.

Besides, Jinx didn’t seem like the type to be in a relationship. She was probably too busy blowing things up and creating gadgets.

“You’ll keep your distance. If it wasn’t for her you’d be paying for the lost shimmer right now. Don’t come in next week.”

If it wasn’t for her? Did Jinx help you? What could she have said to make Silco excuse you? You couldn’t walk out of his office quickly enough when he finished. It had turned into a hotbox with his continuous smoking, and you desperately needed air.

Just as you walk down the stairs to leave through the Last Drop, there she was, sitting at the bar and leaning dangerously far back.

“Heya toots!”

She springs up, walking towards you and trapping you in a tight hug at the waist. It was a stark difference from only an hour ago.

“Hi,” you say, walking down the stairs and stopping, awkwardly waiting for her to speak.

“Sorry about earlier, I just couldn’t take my eyes off of you.” You tell her that it’s no problem, trying to ignore the comment and your heartbeat increasing again. “Thanks for helping me with Silco.” 

She shrugs, crossing both arms behind her back. “Yeah, he gets like that sometimes.” You both stand in the awkward silence. Luckily, the bar was empty but it was surprisingly chilly. All you wanted was to leave and try to forget everything that just happened.

“I’ve been watching you for a while. You seem pretty cool.”

The compliment was nice and well-intentioned but the more you thought about it, the more worried you became. She watched you? 

“Would you wanna go out sometime? It doesn’t have to be out out, but somewhere we can talk.”

All you could do was nod. It was stupid in hindsight. Silco had just spent twenty minutes telling you to stay away from her and but here you were, practically agreeing to go on a date. 

“Cool! I’ll see you here tomorrow!”

Here? Tomorrow? It was too soon and too close to Silco. Whether he would be out or not, Sevika and other henchmen would be nearby, not to mention all of Silco’s other enemies. It was all a bad idea. 

But you still agreed. It would be nice to talk to someone new. And you were sure that saying no would have a painful consequence.

Jinx smiles again, hugging you once more before disappearing up the stairs, leaving you standing at the bottom of the steps.

“Good luck.” You look behind the bar and see Chuck emerge from underneath the counter.

 “She’s a crazy one.”

[lesbiantahani]

im not one to like....analyse travis martinez alot but i can NOT stop thinking abt the moment hes holding javi's frozen body and looks back to shauna's expectant gaze and he makes this little shaky, heart-breaking noise thats barely audible as a "no..." bc he realises its inevitable they are going to eat his little brother and he can not stop what is coming. like im never one to disagree with "well they need to eat for their survival" but it truly feels like a gut punch to my soul as a sibling. i think of cradling my dead frozen sister like that then looking back and seeing the hungry canines of teenage girls and go oh...no...please. dont eat what is left of me.

[lukas-dusk]

WinterIron soulmates AU In which when your soulmate touches you, his name appears on your body. When Tony and Bucky fight in Berlin, Bucky touches Tony, but not the other way around, which means Tony knows but Bucky doesn't.

Location: Airport in Germany

The two teams face each other, you can feel the tension in the air, no one dares to take the first step.

And then Tony gets out of his armor, walks towards the team cap. Everyone is tense, looking closely at Tony analysing every movements he make.

He gets closer to Bucky raises his hand in the air, everyone holds their breath, and then in a monumental "CLAC", Hit him with all his might.

The noise echoes throughout the airport.

Everyone is speechless.

Bucky eyes wide open, mouth open, feeling his skin heated slightly at the level of his left hip «...What...»

Steve tries to defend his best friend with a «TONY-»

But before Steve could finish his sentence, or anyone could figure out what was going on, Tony grabbed Bucky's collar and kissed him in front of everyone. not a light peck, not a tender kiss, a deep, sensual and violent kiss, with all the frustration of the last few days inside.

Everyone's eyes widen. Steve literally drops his shield, which falls with a clang. Sam chokes. Natasha raises both of her eyebrows to her hairline, Rhodey facepalms.

Then Tony breaks the kiss, breathless, frustrated, annoyed. And then still with his hands on Bucky's collar, he looks him straight in the eyes.

And with a clear and cold tone that leaves no room for discussion «You and me, Barnes»

He takes a pause

«We're going to have a looonnng conversation»

Bring Bucky even closer to his face

«Then we're going to get married»

A choked breath

«Then we'll have children, at least 5.»

A foot tapping the ground in frustration

«And we're going to live happily ever after, just like in those fucking fairy tales!»

There is a total silence.

Not a sound in the airport.

No one dares to speak.

Bucky's frozen, his cheeks are red, his breathing stutters, his mouth keeps closing and opening like a fish out of water.

And then...

Bucky, his voice low, his eyes blurred by the adrenaline of the kiss «...Yes...?»