#I woke up and decided for violence it seems :D

[marvelstars]

Anakin & Padme vs Obi-Wan & Satine

I have some thoughts on both of these relationships especially because I enjoy both but I don´t like when some fans use one to put down the other in terms of their relationship with the Jedi Order

First off, Obi-Wan and Satine deciding to go on their own way because Satine had a duty to her people and Obi-Wan wanted to remain a Jedi despite loving her is totally in character to the kind of people they are and what they care for, Obi-Wan was raised at the temple, he didn´t know his birth family, the order is his world and Satine didn´t want to put him in a position of leaving his world for her world and she most probably wasn´t going to leave her duties to her destroyed planet as the heir of Mandalore, especially after a civil war.

In this I agree with the majority of fandom, in what I disagree is the fact that Satine and Obi-Wan decision not to pursue a romantic relationship is a legitimate one while Anakin and Padmé´s choice to begin one is selfish and a show of attachment, I believe both decisions and both relationships ARE legitimate, after all being a Jedi is a choice and just like Ahsoka showed, you can leave without being made an enemy of them precisely because the Order is supposed to offer this freedom.

Anakin was born in a family, he wanted to become a Jedi to be able to free the slaves on Tatooine, later he had to sacrifice this dream to remain a Jedi because freedom of slaves on Tatooine or the outer rim simply wasn´t a priority for the Jedi Order because they did mostly what the Senate asked of them and freedom in the Outer rim wasn´t something the Senate cared about at all.

In this scenario Anakin falling in love with Padmé, the girl he helped when he was a slave on Tatooine, the same one he promised to help free her planet which he ultimately did, is a good and honest feeling, just as Padmé´s auntentic feeling of wanting to have a family with Anakin once her period as Queen was done, so she could execute her plan of them going to live on Naboo once her time as a Senator was done.

Anakin´s decision to leave the order to built a life with Padmé and a family is a legitimate decision. At no point did he wish to impose his pov on the order or make them change their oppinion on marriage, his position was simple, he could not remain a Jedi if he was married to Padmé, he stayed during the clone wars to help the order but he had already decided to leave once peace was achieved and who could condemn him for that? if that decision could very well have led to him finally achieving his childhood dream of freeing the slaves once he wasn´t a subject of the Senate dictates as a Jedi? especially given Padmé´s help and influence on Naboo could have helped in achieving this and who knows, without Palpatine´s direct influence over Anakin, this could have helped fulfill the chosen one prophecy in a better context than ROTJ

In both cases, the characters are making a decision that makes sense given their background and point of view which is completely legit, even in the real world, life long compromises of the kind monks/ catholic priests make, they are made aware they have a choice if they ultimately decide to live their life as part of a family and that it´s an honest and legitimate decision, in fact catholic priests are given a whole year to decide before making their formal votes.

So in Anakin´s or Obi-Wan´s case, while the Jedi Order certainly didn´t take well seeing their members leave, it wasn´t banned, it was a legitimate decision one could take if the circunstances led to it as Ahsoka showed and I believe this is the least they can do given they take their members so young, before they are able to fully understand the decision they are making.

My two cents.

Double date by Ame

[wqnsho]

second chance | hwang in-ho x fem! reader

*.✧ synopsis: hwang in-ho joined the games with one goal: to monitor and manipulate seong gi-hun. but everything changed the moment he saw his childhood friend among the players—a face he never expected to see again. *.✧ word count: 21.7k (are you even surprised) *.✧ warnings: squidgame season 2 spoilers, violence, death, choking, guns, explicit depictions of injuries, panic attacks (reader experiences one) usage korean words and suffixes, mentions of cho sang-woo, reader moved from in-ho's place to gi-hun's place (gyeonggi-do to ssangmun-dong), softie in-ho because its you, angst :D *.✧ note: I ACTUALLY THOUGHT CROSSROADS WILL BE THE LONGEST THING I WRITE, SURPRISE SURPRISE SECOND CHANCE IS HERE. hope you guys love it!! masterlist | request here

Your life wasn't supposed to go in this direction. 

Ever since you were small, people knew great things would come to you. You were talented and smart in every way, shape, or form. Teachers would gush about how bright your future was, and neighbors would brag to their kids about your achievements as if they were their own. So why were you here now, standing in a room surrounded by strangers for a chance of winning some money? 

Currently, all of you watched as the screen displayed various people getting slapped left and right. Announcing their player numbers, names, and how much money they owe. The sheer amount of debt displayed beside each name was staggering—hundreds of millions, even billions.

You shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the whispers around you. People were muttering under their breath, some recognizing names and faces, others lamenting their own debt in comparison. The tension in the room was suffocating, a shared humiliation that weighed heavy on everyone.

Player 132. [Last Name] [Name]. 562 million.

The words echoed in your ears like a slap to your face. Your own name, your own shame, displayed for everyone to see. A few heads turned toward you, but you refused to meet their eyes. You scratched the back of your head in shame, keeping your eyes on the ceiling as if you could avoid the weight of judgment all around you.

'Well... at least it wasn't from that stupid crypto bullshit,' you mumbled under your breath, though the bitter smile on your lips faded as quickly as it appeared. As the guard moved to another person, the crowd around you blurred into an indistinct mass of voices. You didn’t care to listen. You let yourself drown in your thoughts, tuning out the chaos.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Life was supposed to be a series of steady steps upward, not a freefall into the abyss. When your family moved from Gyeonggi-do to Ssangmun-dong, everything changed. 

Your father, once the pillar of the family, walked out one day without a backward glance. Which left you and your mother to fend for yourselves. He left for some woman he barely knew. Someone who didn’t have to deal with the mess he’d left behind. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, your mother decided she had better things to do than raise a child. 

One morning, you woke up to an empty house and a note on the dining table. The words were hurried, impersonal, as if she didn’t pushed you out and raised you. Worst of all, she didn’t even spell your name right!

The pain of abandonment never left you. It festered, growing into a heavyweight you carried everywhere. You tried to survive, piecing together odd jobs and small victories, but it was never enough. Debt piled up faster than you could manage, dragging you into this nightmare.

The first game was announced— Red Light, Green Light. 

You had doubts. The game seemed too simple, almost childish, like something even teens could survive without breaking a sweat—just a game, right? But as soon as the first shot rang out, you realized how wrong you were. Bodies fell like dominoes, blood staining the grass in vivid red. The sound of death was deafening, and the reality of it hit you like a punch to the gut. You froze, your breath caught in your throat, as the world around you erupted into chaos. People screamed, some running, others collapsing in terror. You couldn’t move. The simplicity of the game suddenly made sense—it wasn’t without cost.

Death was suddenly real, closer than it had ever been before. Your entire life flashed before your eyes—every mistake, every regret, every moment you had taken for granted. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Not here, not now.

Luckily, a player stepped up and took charge. Player 456. He was calm and collected, advising everyone to hide behind the larger players, claiming that the robot wouldn’t be able to see you if you stayed out of its line of sight. His plan was simple yet effective, and with his guidance, you managed to survive the round.

As you returned to the main area, the tension from the first game clung to the air like a thick fog. Every breath felt heavy, and the adrenaline that had pushed you through the chaos now left your limbs trembling. Despite it all, a deep sense of gratitude toward him lingered in your chest. You wanted to stay close, to follow his lead. There was security in his presence, a grounding force that kept the worst of your fears at bay.

Suddenly, the sound of heavy boots echoed through the room. Guards entered in perfect formation, their masks as eerie as the silence that fell over the crowd. The sight of them sent a shiver down your spine. One by one, people began to plead for their lives, collapsing to their knees, their voices breaking with desperation as tears streamed down their faces.

“There must be a misunderstanding,” the main guard, marked by a square on his mask, said in a monotone voice. “We are not trying to harm you. We are presenting you with an opportunity.”

Before he could continue, the same player who had spoken during the first game—Player 456—interrupted with a sharp shout.

“Clause three of the consent form!” The room froze, all eyes, including yours, turning to him.

His words were sharp, filled with a sense of urgency and strength “The games may be terminated upon a majority vote. Correct?” he demanded, his voice firm.

“That is correct,” the guard replied, his tone unwavering, as though the question had been anticipated.

“Then let us take a vote right now,” Player 456 said, his words igniting a spark of hope in the crowd. It was as if a door to freedom had cracked open, and everyone could almost taste the possibility of escape.

“Of course. We respect your right to freedom of choice.”

A collective sigh of relief spread through the crowd, a fleeting moment where fear was momentarily pushed aside by a glimmer of hope. For the first time, you felt something that resembled a shift in the balance of power. They weren’t in control—at least, not entirely.

“But first,” the guard continued, “let me announce the prize amount that has been accumulated.” He pressed a button on his device, and the room suddenly dimmed.

A low hum filled the air, followed by the descending of a massive glass piggy bank from the ceiling. It gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights, casting eerie reflections across the players’ faces. The sound of wads of cash clinking together echoed through the room, loud and clear, like the jarring noise of a twisted casino jackpot.

The players stared, wide-eyed, as the money poured into the glass bank. It was hypnotic—the sound, the sight, the overwhelming promise of wealth. Some players instinctively stepped forward, as if drawn by an invisible force, while others lingered at the back, still fearful but unable to resist the allure of the prize.

“The number of players eliminated in the first game is 91,” the guard announced, his voice as flat and emotionless as ever. “Therefore, a total of 9.1 billion won has been accumulated. If you quit the games now, the remaining 365 of you can equally divide this amount and leave.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd, and Player 100, who was standing near you, called out, his voice filled with disbelief. “How much is that?”

“Each person’s share would be 24,931,500 won,” the guard replied without hesitation.

The words hung in the air, heavy and cold, as a wave of murmurs spread across the room. There was a mix of disbelief, anger, and confusion.

“Twenty-four million? We almost died for that?” Player 124 scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. You couldn’t help but feel the sting of it too. Twenty-four million wasn’t nearly enough to make up for the terror, the near-death experience, the trauma of the first game. Yet, at the same time, the number was hard to ignore. It was money. A lot of it. Enough to make you forget the panic, at least for a while.

“You said the prize was 45.6 billion!” Player 230 shouted, his voice rising with frustration.

The guard’s response was calm, almost detached. “The rule states that 100 million won is added for each eliminated player. If you choose to play the next game, and more players are eliminated, the prize amount will increase accordingly.”

There was a brief silence as everyone processed the implications of this. The numbers didn’t seem to add up at first. But as the calculation sank in, the possibility of even more money stirred the crowd.

“How much will it be if someone survives until the very end?” someone asked, their voice trembling with hope.

The guard, unbothered by the growing tension, simply stated, “As I already told you, the total amount of prize money for all 456 players is 45.6 billion won. If you are the sole survivor, you will receive the full amount.”

The room erupted into a chorus of gasps, whispers, and shouts. Some players looked at each other, their expressions shifting as greed began to seep into their eyes. Others remained still, haunted by the terror of the first game. The promise of so much money was a heady temptation, but it came at the price of their lives.

“So, we can take a vote again and decide to leave after the next game?” someone asked, their voice tinged with hope, as if the very idea of escape was now within reach.

“Yes,” the guard confirmed. “As outlined in the consent form, you may vote after each game and decide whether to leave with the prize money accumulated up to that point. We always prioritize your voluntary actions.”

You stood there, torn. The terror you’d felt during the first game still clung to you, wrapping around your chest. But the temptation of the prize money—of being free from the crushing debt that had haunted you for so long—was overwhelming. This could be your only chance to escape. A chance to climb out of the pit you’d been stuck in, buried under mountains of bills and threats. If you walked away now, you’d return to the same miserable existence, drowning in debt, with no way out in sight.

Your mind raced. You had fought so hard just to survive, and now, standing in this room, you were faced with a decision that could change everything. The terror from the first game still gripped your chest, but the lure of the money was almost impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just about survival—it was the chance to escape the suffocating weight of your debt, the years spent trying to climb out of a hole you’d fallen into.

The voting started with Player 456. You watched as he cast his vote, the air thick with tension. The red light from the voting machine flickered for a brief moment as he pressed his choice, a clear "X." One by one, others followed, some hesitating, while others quickly made their decision. The chaos of it all felt overwhelming. You couldn’t help but wonder if they had already made up their minds, whether they were giving in to the temptation of the money or if they were too afraid to continue.

When your number was called, your legs felt like lead as you approached the voting machine. Each step was agonizingly slow, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. The room seemed to shrink, and you could feel every eye on you, even as you tried to ignore them.

Your hand trembled as you reached for the button. The thought of pressing it, of choosing to continue, made your stomach twist in knots. For just a moment, you hesitated, feeling the weight of your decision crushing you from all sides.

Then, with a deep breath, you pressed the circle.

The blue light illuminated your face, a cold reminder of the choice you’d just made. A guard stepped forward, handing you a blue patch marked with the same symbol as your vote. You accepted it with shaky hands, bowing slightly before pinning it to your jacket. As you returned to your spot in line, your heart pounded in your chest.

God, why did it come to this? What could have gone so wrong? Had you done something to upset the gods? Or were you simply born unlucky, destined to live a life riddled with hardships?

You couldn’t stop questioning yourself—your decisions, your choices, the countless crossroads where you might’ve taken a different turn. You missed the early moments in your life when everything felt so simple, so light. Back then, there were no looming debts, no sleepless nights spent worrying about survival, no constant weight pressing down on your shoulders.

You had it all once—a lovely family with successful parents who made sure money was never an issue. You had good grades, a tight-knit circle of friends, and a future that seemed full of promise. You were happy, truly happy.

And you weren’t always alone. Aside from your parents and friends, there was someone else—someone who had been a constant in your life, a steady presence you could always count on. He wasn’t just a friend; he was the friend. The one who stood by you no matter what, even when the world seemed to turn its back on you.

When the bullies in school targeted you for reasons you never understood, he was the one who stepped in without hesitation. You still remembered the way he’d square his shoulders, his voice firm and unwavering as he told them to back off. He never cared if he got in trouble for standing up for you; all that mattered to him was that you were safe.

He wasn’t just your protector, though. He was the person who could make you laugh when you were seconds away from tears. He had this knack for knowing exactly what to say or do to lighten your mood, whether it was pulling a silly face, cracking a joke, or nudging you with that mischievous grin that always made you roll your eyes but secretly smile.

He was the one who stayed up late with you when you were cramming for exams, even though he wasn’t the most studious person himself. He’d throw pencils at you when you started to drift off, only to shove snacks in your face the next moment and tell you to take a break. He had this way of making even the most mundane moments feel special, as if just being around him made everything a little brighter.

And as much as you tried to deny it back then, he had become your everything. Your safe haven, the person you trusted more than anyone else. He was the one you turned to when life felt too heavy to bear, the one who never made you feel like a burden for leaning on him.

He was your partner in crime, the one who’d sneak off with you during boring school events, laughing as the two of you got caught and had to face detention together. He made life feel like an adventure, even in the quiet, simple moments.

But above all, he was your first love. Though you never said it out loud, it was there—in the way your heart skipped a beat whenever he smiled at you, in the way you found yourself searching for him in every room you walked into. It was in the way you felt safe and seen in a way no one else could make you feel.

He didn’t know, of course. How could he? You were just kids, too shy to even admit it to yourself most of the time. But looking back now, it was clear as day: he wasn’t just your best friend. He was the boy who had stolen your heart, even if he never realized it.

You paused. The faint buzz of the voting machines around you barely registered as you froze in place. Why were you thinking about him now, of all times? You clenched your fists, trying to will the memories away, but they pushed their way into your mind regardless.

You remembered the way he shouted at you, his voice filled with anger and frustration. The argument had been sharp, the words he threw at you cutting deeper than you ever thought possible. He had been upset that you were leaving, but instead of asking you to stay, instead of saying goodbye, he stormed off.

It didn’t matter how much time had passed; the wound was still raw. He was your best friend, the boy you loved so deeply you couldn’t even bring yourself to admit it back then. And he let you leave without so much as a goodbye.

Your chest tightened as the memories overwhelmed you, crashing over you like waves. You had convinced yourself that you were over it—that it didn’t matter anymore. But clearly, that wasn’t true. The emotions you had buried deep, the hurt and the unanswered questions, all clawed their way back to the surface.

Did he hate me? The thought stung, even now. Did I mean so little to him that he couldn’t even say goodbye?

The pain lingered, sharp and vivid despite the years that had passed. You could still see it, like a scene burned into your memory—the moment he walked past you on your last day of school. His face had been a mask of cold indifference, his eyes resolutely avoiding yours as though looking at you would cost him something precious.

You had called his name, your voice trembling with desperation and a plea you couldn’t quite voice. You just wanted him to stop, to look at you, to give you a reason, a sign that he cared. Anything to make the ache in your chest a little less unbearable.

But he didn’t.

He just kept walking, his steps steady and unyielding, leaving you standing there. The knot in your throat had tightened until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. He left without a word, without even a glance. And in that silence, you were left with nothing but heartbreak and questions that would never be answered.

And now, here you were, those same feelings dragging you down as the votes continued. The sound of faint button presses and shuffling feet filled the air, each vote drawing everyone closer to an answer.

You hadn’t been paying attention to the numbers flashing on the screen, but the tension in the room was suffocating. The votes were neck and neck—X and O, tied. A deuce. The final vote could change everything. You could feel the unease creeping over the room like a storm cloud ready to burst. The fate of the game rested in the hands of the last player.

The tension was unbearable. Everyone held their breath. It felt as if time itself had come to a standstill, the anticipation hanging in the air.

You forced yourself to look up, to see who the final person would be. Your heart pounded louder in your chest with every second, the weight of what was about to happen pressing down on you. Your gaze fell on the figure walking toward the voting station. You couldn’t immediately register who it was—your mind too wrapped in the urgency of the moment. The final decision.

 But then something hit you. A familiarity. A sinking feeling in your chest.

And then your breath hitched.

It was him—.

In-ho.

Your world seemed to tilt on its axis as you watched him. It was like a punch to your gut. Your chest tightened painfully, and your thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. You had spent years trying to push him out of your mind, trying to move forward, but in that moment, it all came rushing back with a force you weren’t prepared for. The ache in your chest deepened, and you realized just how much you had never really healed.

Your mind swirled with the years you’d spent without him. The countless nights you had stayed awake, wondering what had gone wrong, why your friendship ended that way.

He was standing there now, in front of you, like a ghost of your past. He was so close, yet you couldn’t reach him. You couldn’t understand what you were seeing. Was this a dream? Was this some cruel twist of fate?

You watched his every move as if in slow motion. There was no hesitation in his actions. His hand reached out to press the button with a deliberate, practiced motion.

And then, he voted. O.

The cheers erupted around you, but they felt distant, muffled, like they were happening in another world. You could hear the excitement rising from the others around you, the shift in the air as the vote swung in favor of continuing the game. 182 to 183.

But none of that mattered to you.

All you could think about was how the boy who had once meant everything to you was here, in the same room, playing the same dangerous game. The same boy who had walked away from you all those years ago, leaving you in silence. 

You stared at him, unable to move, to speak. It was as if time had stopped, like the world around you had turned to static. Your mind was racing, a torrent of emotions swirling inside you. The hurt you had pushed down for so long had exploded back to the surface.

You couldn’t tear your gaze away from him, your body frozen in disbelief. All you could do was stand there, feeling the weight of the past, the weight of everything that had happened between you two. The questions that you had carried for so long—about why he left, about why he never said goodbye—pushed their way to the surface, raw and painful.

Your mind raced, but your body refused to move. You were trapped in this moment, unable to escape the overwhelming emotions that came with it. There was no easy way out.

The past was alive in front of you, and it had never felt so real.

Hwang In-ho was a man who prided himself on always being in control. Every move he made was deliberate, calculated, and designed to maintain his upper hand. He wasn’t one to take risks without knowing the outcome, nor did he leave anything to chance. His sharp intellect and knack for strategy had always kept him one step ahead of everyone else, whether it was in the games or in life outside of them.

So when he learned that Seong Gi-hun, the man who had also escaped the game’s clutches once, was coming back—not as a desperate participant, but as a threat to everything the games stood for. In-ho knew he had to act. It wasn’t just about the rules or the money; it was about protecting the intricate system he had helped sustain, the foundation he had sacrificed everything to uphold.

The idea of Gi-hun winning was infuriating. He wouldn’t allow it. Not because he believed in the games' morality, but because their collapse would mean his own failure. It would mean admitting that he, the one who always stayed ahead, had lost control.

And In-ho did not lose. Not to anyone. Certainly not to Seong Gi-hun.

The solution was clear: he had to join the game.

Adopting the alias "Young-il," In-ho entered as Player 001, his plan meticulously calculated. Every detail was accounted for—his presence would be unassuming, his actions deliberate. The goal was simple: get close to Gi-hun, observe his every move, and ensure the game remained firmly under his control.

It wasn’t just about safeguarding the system he had come to embody; it was about reaffirming his dominance. To In-ho, this was more than strategy—it was a statement. A test to prove that no matter the odds, no matter who opposed him, he would remain two steps ahead.

That was his purpose. His only focus.

Or so he thought.

Everything changed the moment he saw you.

It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving him breathless and disoriented. In-ho’s steps faltered, his carefully calculated composure slipping for the first time in years. His eyes locked onto your figure amidst the sea of players, and for a fleeting moment, he thought it was a cruel trick of his mind—a phantom conjured by guilt and memory.

But no. The wide, shocked eyes staring back at him were unmistakably yours.

The realization struck him like a physical blow, an ache spreading through his chest that he couldn’t ignore. You were here. You were really here.

You shouldn’t be here.

He froze, his usually sharp mind scrambling to piece together an explanation. What were you doing here? What had happened in your life to bring you to this place of desperation and death? He remembered you as you once were—bright, warm, full of life—and now, the thought of you standing on this stage of horrors felt wrong in every conceivable way.

Memories of you came rushing back, vivid and unrelenting. The way you used to laugh, how you’d pull him out of his brooding silences with a simple touch, the way you always seemed to bring light into his otherwise shadowed world. Those memories clashed violently with the reality before him. You didn’t belong here. Not in this uniform. Not in this nightmare.

He felt his mask of indifference. The armor he’d built over years of pain and regret started to crack. For so long, he had mastered the art of detachment, burying every emotion deep beneath a layer of control. But now, with you standing there, all of it came flooding back. Guilt. Regret. Anger.

And something else. Something he couldn’t name but had tried to bury long ago.

The look on your face gutted him. Recognition, confusion, hurt—it was all there, as raw and unguarded as the day he’d last seen you. You looked at him like he was a ghost, like you couldn’t believe he was standing in front of you. That look shattered something in him, something he hadn’t realized was still breakable.

For the first time in years, In-ho felt unsteady. His carefully constructed walls, the ones that had kept him in control, in power—shook under the weight of your stare.

This wasn’t part of the plan.

He clenched his fists at his sides, a desperate attempt to regain control, to force himself back into the cold, calculating mindset he’d mastered. He couldn’t let you see how much this affected him. Not here. Not now. This was a game—a deadly one—and emotions were dangerous, liabilities he couldn’t afford.

Even as he tried to steady himself, forcing his gaze away and focusing on the task at hand, something inside him rose above the chaos. He knew, without a doubt, that he had to protect you.

It wasn’t rational. It wasn’t part of his plan. But it was undeniable. Seeing you here, dressed in the same uniform, facing the same deadly stakes, ignited something in him that he couldn’t ignore. He had joined the game to regain control, to manipulate the outcome, to ensure Gi-hun wouldn’t tear everything apart. But because the one person he never wanted to see in this hell was standing right in front of him, the thought of sticking to that plan seemed impossible.

And no matter what it cost him—his control, his plan, his very life—he couldn’t let you die.

It was time for the second game: the Six-Legged Pentathlon.

You walked hand in hand with another player—Player 222, Kim Jun-hee, as she had introduced herself earlier. Together, the two of you moved through the crowded room, searching for three more players to form a team. Your eyes flicked down to the frail figure beside you, her grip on your hand trembling slightly, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of protectiveness.

Earlier, before the announcement of the next game, you had found her curled up in the corner of the bathroom, clutching her stomach with a pained look on her face. She had been trying to hide her tears, but they slipped through anyway, leaving tracks down her pale cheeks. The image of her broken composure stuck with you, and even now, the weight of it hadn’t lessened.

The look on your face as you crouched beside her was indescribable. When you asked her what was wrong, she was silent at first, her gaze vacant and lost as if the weight of the world was too much to carry. Slowly, her shoulders sagged, and she spoke in a low, quiet voice, each word heavy with the burden she was trying to carry. It wasn’t just about the game anymore—it was everything. Her words were a confession, a painful release of all the fears that had built up inside of her. She spoke of being alone, of how no one wanted to team up with her, and the overwhelming worry that constantly gnawed at her. But it wasn’t just that.

She talked about her child. The one thing in this nightmare that kept her going, even if only by the thinnest thread. Her mind was consumed by the thought of them. She wondered if they would survive. But what hurt the most was the months of silence from the man she thought she would spend the rest of her life with. Her fiancé, who had disappeared without a trace, left her to wonder if he was dead or alive, only to learn he was in the same hellish game. She never imagined she would have to face this—alone, scared, with no one to lean on.

Something in her tone, the hopelessness wrapped in every syllable, struck a chord deep within you. For a moment, it wasn’t Jun-hee you saw—it was yourself. 

You had been there before. You knew what it was like to feel abandoned, to watch everything you had built slowly crumble, to be left in a world where trust was a distant memory. The same fears she voiced were the ones that had haunted you—the fear of losing your loved ones, the dread of facing a future where you had nothing, and the overwhelming loneliness that seemed to suffocate every hope you had left.

Her pain was your pain, her desperation mirrored your own. You had been there—fighting for survival, clinging to any hope that things could get better, even when the world felt like it was falling apart. It wasn’t just empathy you felt for her; it was the haunting reminder of your own struggle, a shadow of the darkness that had once consumed you. You didn’t want her to experience the same isolation, the same crushing hopelessness that had almost broken you. You knew too well how it felt to be lost, to question whether you’d ever make it out alive, to wonder if there was anything left to fight for.

As you looked at her, a quiet resolve settled deep within you. You wouldn’t let her walk this road alone. You wouldn’t let her fall into the same despair that had once threatened to swallow you whole. You could no longer stand by and watch someone else go through the torment you had endured alone. You would be her strength, her anchor—just as you had longed for someone to do for you when everything seemed to be slipping out of your grasp.

Without hesitation, you reached out, your hand finding hers, cold and trembling. You squeezed it gently, offering a steadying warmth that you both needed. “Then you’ll come with me,” you said. “We’ll figure this out together.”

You weren’t going to let her face this nightmare by herself—not when you knew the crushing weight of solitude so well. You wouldn’t let her fall down the same painful path you’d been on. From that moment on, you refused to leave her side.

You were supposed to focus on your own survival, you know that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave her behind. Something about her reminded you of someone else, someone you had been a long time ago. You couldn’t save everyone here, but maybe, just maybe, you could save her.

Meanwhile, In-ho’s plan was progressing smoothly. He had successfully gained Gi-hun’s trust and joined his team. Together with two others—Player 388 and Player 390—they were only one person short of completing their group. In-ho kept his head down, maintaining his facade as the amiable and harmless Player 001. He had positioned himself perfectly, right where he needed to be.

Until he heard your voice.

“Hello, excuse me. Do you have space for two more?”

His head snapped up instinctively. There you were, standing just a few feet away, holding player 222’s hand as you looked at Gi-hun and the others, avoiding him altogether.

In-ho couldn’t help but stare.

“We’re sorry, miss,” Gi-hun replied apologetically. “We already have four members.”

You didn’t falter, keeping your small smile. “That’s not a problem,” you said firmly. “Would you be willing to have her instead?”

Before anyone could respond, you gently nudged Jun-hee forward. She hesitated, glancing nervously between you and the group, but you gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.

In-ho stayed silent, watching the interaction unfold. He didn’t trust himself to speak. Irritation bubbled under the surface. Of course, you would do something like this. Even in a place like this, where survival meant looking out for yourself, you were still thinking about someone else. Always putting others before yourself, even when it didn’t make sense to do so.

You never change.

And yet, despite the frustration clawing at him, He couldn’t stop the flicker of warmth in his chest. It was small, barely noticeable, but it was there. A part of him—a part he didn’t want to acknowledge—was happy.

Because no matter how much time had passed, no matter how much this place had changed the both of you, there were still parts of you that remained the same. That stubborn kindness, that fierce determination to protect others—it was one of the things he had always admired about you.

It was one of the things that terrified him.

You still carried that same hope, that same belief that people could be better, that kindness had a place even in a place like this. It made his stomach twist. The fact that you hadn’t hardened, hadn’t become cynical like everyone else—it was both a relief and a danger. You couldn’t afford to trust anyone here, not without consequence.

What if you trusted the wrong person? What if you let your guard down just once and someone used that against you? He had seen it happen before, in a way that made his insides tighten with dread. People here weren’t to be trusted, and you were too pure, too unguarded. He’d seen how quickly things could turn, how easily alliances could break, how one wrong move could be the end of someone’s life.

It made him want to reach out, to warn you, to pull you away from the people who might betray you. But instead, he stayed silent, his heart racing faster than his thoughts could keep up with.

His gaze shifted to the girl you had taken under your wing. She was trembling, showing a strong facade. In-ho couldn’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness for her too—though he would never admit it out loud. She was vulnerable. She didn’t belong here. But you were giving her a chance. You were always giving people chances, even when they didn't deserve them.

He tore his gaze away, looking anywhere but at you. He hated the way you made him feel, even after all those years. Torn between wanting to protect you and wanting to pull away, he couldn’t reconcile the two. He had built walls for a reason—so that no one could get too close, so that no one could hurt him again. And yet, there you were, slipping through those cracks, reminding him that even after all this time, even after all the distance, he still cared.

“What about you?” Player 388 asked, his voice tinged with concern.

You gave him a small, reassuring smile. “I’ll be okay. I’ll find a group somewhere.”

“Are you sure?” he pressed, his brow furrowing with worry.

You nodded, your tone firm but kind. “Of course. If you want, you can help me?” you offered, though it wasn’t a question so much as a gentle suggestion.

The male nodded without hesitation, as though it was the most natural thing to do. He saluted you with a small smile, his expression brightening as he turned to lead the way. You followed quietly, walking side by side as the two of you engaged in light, casual conversation. The sound of your voices seemed almost out of place in the tense atmosphere of the game, but for a moment, it was just the two of you, navigating the chaos in your own way.

In-ho watched the interaction unfold from a distance, his gaze fixed on you. His chest tightened as he observed the way you interacted with Player 388, the ease with which you formed connections, the comfort you seemed to give others despite the grim situation. For a fleeting moment, he found himself wishing it was him walking beside you instead of that other player. He longed to be the one you relied on again, the one you trusted in a world where trust felt like a luxury.

He clenched his jaw, his fists tightening at his sides, trying to suppress the emotions that stirred inside him. It wasn’t supposed to matter. You had your own path to walk, and he had his. But the feeling gnawed at him, more intense than he liked to admit. A part of him wanted to be the one to keep you safe, to be the one to stand by your side. To be the one you turned to, the one who could offer you something real in the midst of all the chaos. But another part of him feels like that’s impossible to achieve now.

Busy with his inner battle, he didn’t notice the curious watchful eyes of the female beside him.

Luckily, you and Player 388—Dae-ho, as he introduced himself—found a group of four not long after starting your search. Players 149, 007, 120, and 095 stood in a tight circle, whispering among themselves as they looked around for their missing fifth member. Their faces were a mix of tension and determination, but they didn’t seem hostile, which was more than you could ask for in this environment.

Dae-ho, ever the confident one, strode forward with an easy smile. “Excuse me… do you need more members?” he asked, his voice warm and inviting.

All four turned to face you both, their eyes scanning you up and down. There was an unmistakable wariness in their expressions; trust wasn’t exactly in abundant supply here. Finally, Player 120 spoke, her voice measured. “I’m sorry, but we only need one more.”

Dae-ho didn’t even flinch at the rejection. Instead, his grin widened, his tone growing more playful. “Well, you’re in luck! You see, [Name]nim here is a master at spinning tops. Quick hands, sharp focus—everything you’d need for precision games like these. How could you possibly pass on a deal like that?”

You blinked at him, both amused and exasperated. Was he seriously pitching you like you were a product at an auction? Despite the absurdity of it, his tone was so casual, so confident, that it managed to disarm the tension in the air, even if just a little.

You gave Dae-ho a small shake of your head before stepping forward yourself, bowing politely to the group. “I may not be a master,” you began, sending a pointed but amused glance toward Dae-ho, “but I’ll do my best to contribute. Please, if you’ll have me, I’ll work hard.”

The group exchanged glances, their hesitation apparent. It was weird for them, hearing a casual and almost teasing tone in an environment where death is prominent. Still, after a moment, Player 120 gave a curt nod. “Alright. You’re in.”

Relief flooded through you, and you turned to Dae-ho, a small smile breaking across your face. “Thank you,” you said, your tone filled with genuine gratitude.

Dae-ho gave a casual wave of his hand, as if dismissing your thanks. “Thank me after you survive this game [Name]nim.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head at his unshakable confidence. “Alright Dae-ho, see you later.”

As you turned back to your new team, introductions were exchanged before quickly discussing strategies. Despite the palpable tension in the air, they seemed cooperative enough. Each player carried their own air of quiet determination, though the stress of the situation was evident in the tightness of their voices and the stiffness in their movements.

Your team was one of the teams to go first. When it was your turn, you grabbed the top and string with trembling hands, whispering a small prayer under your breath. Slowly, you began winding the string tightly around the body of the top, starting from the bottom and wrapping upwards. But as you reached the middle, the string suddenly slipped free, unraveling entirely. You froze, your shaky hands betraying you further as you fumbled to pick up the loose string.

A lump rose in your throat as panic surged through you. You knew you were good at this. Spinning tops was your childhood talent, something you had always taken pride in. But now, in the most critical moment, your nerves were getting the best of you. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you looked at Player 120, your voice trembling. “I… I’m sorry. I swear I’m good at this. I’m just… really scared.”

Player 120’s expression softened, and she knelt beside you. Her voice was calm, reassuring. “It’s okay. You just need to take a deep breath and focus, alright? You’ve got this.”

Her words anchored you, and you nodded, inhaling deeply. As you exhaled slowly, a memory surfaced—something that always helped you when you were scared. Turning to 120, you asked hesitantly, “Could you… could you cover my eyes?”

She blinked at you, puzzled. “Cover your eyes? Why?”

You offered a nervous smile. “I promise it’ll help. It’s… just something I do.”

With a shrug, she moved behind you and placed her hands gently over your eyes. As darkness enveloped your vision, you felt a strange but comforting familiarity take over.

“What’s up with this weird ritual you do?” In-ho’s voice was teasing, his hands warm as they covered your eyes back then. “You’re always doing this!”

“It’s not weird!” your younger self had retorted, pouting.

“Is too!” he laughed. “Nobody else does this, you know.”

“Well, I get really scared when I see what I’m doing, okay?” you’d replied stubbornly. “So I thought, ‘What if I just don’t look?’ It helps me focus.”

You smiled softly at the memory, your hands finally steady as you began winding the string again. This time, it wrapped perfectly around the top, tight and precise.

When 120 uncovered your eyes, you felt a renewed sense of determination. But before you could proceed, a familiar voice cut through the air.

“To effectively spin the top, first, you must hold the loose end of the string firmly in your hand,” In-ho called out, his voice carrying an authoritative tone. He paced in front of you like a drill sergeant, his arms folded behind his back. “Next, throw the top onto the ground with a flicking motion. Pull the string sharply to make it spin. Understood?”

You straighten your posture, snapping a salute. “Sir, yes, sir!”

The two of you broke into laughter, a sound so pure and unexpected that it momentarily dissolved the tension in the air. When he handed you the fully wound top, his fingers brushed yours lightly. “Alright, [Name],” he said, his smile softening, “show me what you can do.”

Gripping the top tightly, you turned to him one last time, your eyes filled with uncertainty. He gave you a reassuring thumbs-up and a wide smile, and somehow, it was enough to calm your racing heart.

With all your might, you threw the top onto the ground, pulling the string sharply. It spun perfectly, steady and unwavering. Relief washed over you as you watched it spin continuously.

The cheers erupted so suddenly that it startled you out of your thoughts. Your teammates—149 and 120—rushed to your side, shaking your shoulders in celebration. Their excitement was infectious, and soon you found yourself smiling, laughing, and letting the moment sink in.

“Alright, alright, let’s calm down!” 120 said, her voice mixed with happiness and haste. She led the group to the next station, the victory fueling your collective determination.

In-ho watched from a distance, a quiet warmth blooming in his chest. It was an unfamiliar feeling, one he hadn’t let himself indulge in for years—a flicker of joy, the kind that came from something genuine. Seeing your face light up with relief and triumph stirred something buried deep inside him, something he thought was long gone. He couldn’t stop himself from cheering along with the others, maybe louder than necessary. Perhaps it was his way of masking the whirlwind of emotions inside him, or maybe it was just his heart acting on its own. Either way, he didn’t care to stop.

As your group crossed the finish line. The room became lively again. You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound pure and unrestrained, even as the adrenaline still coursed through your veins. For a moment, you allowed yourself to feel it: pride, joy, and the simple relief of success.

Amidst the commotion, your eyes instinctively searched the crowd—and then you saw him, his eyes never leaving yours. The sight made your breath catch, your smile faltering for a second before returning, softer this time.

And then it happened. Your eyes locked. Everything else seemed to fall away—the noise, the crowd, the weight of the game itself. It was just the two of you in that moment, a silent conversation unfolding in the space between your gazes.

His dark eyes, cold and guarded the first time you saw them, were now filled with longing, happiness, maybe even a glimmer of pride. It was as though he was telling you, I knew you could do it. I’m proud of you. But there was something deeper, too—something unspoken. His gaze held a vulnerability that he wouldn’t dare put into words, a quiet hope that you might still see him the way you once did.

You felt it, too. A warmth spreading through you, unexpected and disarming. The wall between you, built by years of distance and unspoken words, seemed to crack ever so slightly. For a brief moment, you forgot the tension, the pain, and the uncertainty. You saw him—not as an enemyl, not as someone you had grown apart from—but as the In-ho you once knew.

His lips twitched into a small smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes but still held a quiet sincerity. He wanted to say something, you could feel it. But words were unnecessary. The way his gaze softened, the way his shoulders relaxed, the way his presence seemed to pull you closer—it was enough.

The moment passed as quickly as it came, but it left something behind. A spark. A fragile yet undeniable hope.

As you were all escorted back to the main area, you found yourself glancing back at him one last time. He was still there, watching, his expression unreadable now. But you saw the faintest nod, as if to say, Please, let’s talk soon.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance. A chance to fix what had been broken. A chance to bridge the gap that had grown between you. A chance to reconcile, to find your way back to each other in a world that had done everything to pull you apart.

Your eyes remained locked with his until the door behind you closed.

Player 149 invited you to join them for a chat, a way to pass the time as the second game continued. With a small nod, you followed them to their little corner, settling on the stairs just behind Player 120. The group was warm and welcoming, and soon you were learning their names, hobbies, and bits of their lives outside the games.

Player 149 introduced herself as Jang Geum-ja, a kind but sharp woman who spoke with unwavering pride about her son, Player 007, Park Yong-sik. Her love for him was evident in every word and action—she had joined the games solely to pay off her son’s debt, determined to give him a better future despite the grim odds.

Player 120, Cho Hyun-ju, exuded a quiet yet approachable aura. A transgender woman with dreams of starting fresh, she joined the games not only to clear her debt but also to complete her medical treatments. Her plan was to move to Thailand and begin a new chapter in her life, one filled with hope and authenticity.

Finally, there was Player 095, Kim Young-mi, a soft-spoken woman with a warm, unshakable belief in the goodness of others. She and Hyun-ju had formed a close bond, their friendship blossoming into a dynamic partnership that made them inseparable—like two peas in a pod, finding strength in each other amidst the chaos.

As the room began to fill with players returning from the game, your eyes instinctively darted to the doors each time they opened. Your stomach twisted with worry, though you tried to stay composed. You were searching for Jun-hee and her group, your concern growing with each passing minute.

Finally, after what felt like forever, you spotted familiar faces walking through the doors. Relief surged through you as you quickly excused yourself from the group and descended the stairs. Without hesitation, you rushed straight to Jun-hee.

"Are you okay? How are you? How’s the baby? Did you feel nauseous? Do you want me to massage your back? Or your feet? Need to go to the bathroom? Pee? Puke?—"

Jun-hee's face turned bright red as she raised a hand to shush you. “Stop, [Name]nim, you’re embarrassing me,” she whispered, glancing nervously at her group. Despite her words, a small smile tugged at her lips, her eyes soft with gratitude.

“Hey! It’s [Name]nim!” Dae-ho’s cheerful voice cut through the moment as he jogged over to you.

“Dae-ho! Looks like I owe you a proper thank-you now, huh?” you said with a laugh, the tension in your chest finally easing.

The three of you exchanged warm words, laughter breaking through the otherwise somber atmosphere. Nearby, the rest of Jun-hee’s group—456, 390, and In-ho—watched the scene unfold. As 456 and 390 moved away to sit down at their spot, In-ho lingered, his gaze fixed on you for a moment longer before he turned to follow the others.

Moments later, you found yourself joining the group, introducing yourself properly. 390, a man with a friendly demeanor, grinned and replied, “Ah, how could we forget you? Thank you for giving Jun-hee to us. She’s really skilled in ddjaki! The name’s Park Jung-bae by the way.”

Your eyes widened. “Jung-bae? Are you Young-sun’s husband?” You asked, pointing a finger at him.

Jung-bae blinked in surprise. “Huh? How’d you know my ex wife?”

“I live in Ssangmun-dong! I visit your pub often. Young-sun would always keep me company when I stopped by.”

Recognition dawned on his face. “Ah! I remember now! You’re the one who splurged like crazy that one night. You even had to crash at our place because you were too wasted to leave! Young-sun told me you were whispering someone’s name... what was it... In-h—”

Panic shot through you as you clamped a hand over his mouth, heat rising to your cheeks. “Don’t. You. Dare,” you hissed, glaring at him.

Jung-bae’s eyes widened, and with a nervous nod, he raised his hands in surrender. You slowly released him, muttering an apology under your breath as you tried to regain your composure.

Dae-ho and Jun-hee, however, were staring at you, their mouths slightly agape. Who knew the kind person they looked up to was a raging alcoholic? Behind them, In-ho’s expression shifted subtly, something unreadable flashing in his eyes. Was it anger? Hurt? Curiosity? You couldn’t tell, and the uncertainty only made your heart race faster.

Breaking the awkward silence, Jung-bae cleared his throat. “W-well, speaking of Ssangmun-dong, my buddy here also lives there. We’re best of friends!” He gestured toward Player 456, who waved at you with a sheepish smile.

You bowed politely, offering a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“Seong Gi-hun,” he introduced himself with a nod.

“What a small world,” you said, grateful for the distraction as the three of you fell into an animated conversation about your shared hometown.

From a short distance away, In-ho watched the scene unfold, his expression unreadable. His gaze lingered on you, his mind racing. Why were you talking about Ssangmun-dong like it was the greatest place in the world? What about Gyeonggi-do? What about the memories you shared there? What about him?

He paused, a flicker of something he refused to name surfacing in his mind. Was it jealousy? No, it couldn’t be—he wasn’t allowed to feel that way, not after everything he’d done to you. The very thought felt absurd. Yet, the knot tightening in his chest as you spoke to others wasn’t easy to ignore.

A nudge from Dae-ho jolted him out of his thoughts. He blinked, realizing all eyes, including yours, were on him, waiting for his introduction. Clearing his throat, he straightened his posture and forced a polite smile.

“My name’s Oh Young-il. Young-il sounds like ‘zero one’, and that’s my number, see?” He gestured to the 001 embroidered on his jacket. Dae-ho raised his brows, impressed by the coincidence, but your gaze lingered on him, a storm of confusion hidden behind your composed expression.

You knew his real name. You knew that he was Hwang In-ho, not Oh Young-il. So why was he lying? The thought gnawed at you. Had he changed his name after getting married? But there was no wedding ring on his finger. Maybe he’d taken it off? No, no. The contradictions piled up, yet a part of you didn’t want to accept the truth. He wasn’t meeting your gaze, deliberately avoiding you. He was hiding something, and you wanted to know what it was.

The moment was interrupted as the heavy boots echoed across the room. Guards marched in, their presence commanding silence. The atmosphere shifted instantly as the square-masked guard stepped forward.

“Congratulations to all of you for making it through the second game,” the guard began, his voice monotone yet eerily loud. He pressed a button on a remote, and the massive piggy bank descended from the ceiling once again. Wads of cash began to tumble into the glass container, the sound of bills hitting each other. Eyes across the room were glued to the spectacle, greed and desperation lighting up every face.

“The results of the second game are as follows: 110 players were eliminated. Therefore the total prize money accumulated is now 20.1 billion won. Since there are 255 players remaining, each person’s share is 78,823,530 won.”

Despite the staggering amount, you couldn’t shake the pit forming in your stomach. 78.8 million won. It was a fortune—more money than you could have ever imagined—but instead of relief, all you felt was disgust.

How could you be thinking about the money when 110 people had just died? Faces flashed in your mind, the terrified screams, the sight of bodies collapsing. And yet, here you were, wondering if it was enough to pay off your debts. The thought sickened you, and your throat tightened as bile threatened to rise. When did I become this person? You had stepped into the games for survival, for a better future, but now you couldn’t tell where desperation ended and greed began. The numbers on the screen blurred as hot tears welled in your eyes, your breaths coming quicker. I’m no better than the ones who created this place. Am I even human anymore? You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms as you tried to silence the spiraling thoughts, but they refused to stop.

You felt your body tremble, your vision narrowing as the room seemed to tilt around you. The walls felt closer, the hum of voices blurring into a distant buzz that drummed in your ears. Every blink brought a sting to your eyes, tears welling and threatening to spill over. You tried to focus—on the floor beneath your feet, the faint pattern of the tiles, anything—but it all blurred together, a haze of shapes and colors you couldn’t ground yourself in. Deep breaths came shallow, catching in your throat, each inhale fighting against the tightness in your chest. Your hands twitched at your sides, desperate for something to hold onto, but all they found was empty air. You whispered to yourself, hollow words of comfort you couldn’t even hear over the pounding of your heart. Your pulse throbbed in your ears, drowning out everything else. All you could feel was the weight of guilt pressing down on you, the silent judgment of the room—even if it existed only in your mind. You were spiraling, untethered, a storm of shame and helplessness that swallowed everything in its path.

Suddenly, a hand gently rested on your shoulder. The warmth startled you, and you whipped your head around to find its source. It was him. In-ho. Or Young-il, as he’d introduced himself. But he wasn’t looking at you; his head was turned toward the commotion among the players, who were now arguing loudly about the rules. His hand, though, remained on your shoulder, steady and deliberate.

Before you could process it, he began to rub your shoulder in slow, soothing circles. His fingers worked gently, almost instinctively, massaging the tension from your stiff muscles. You stared at him, stunned into silence. His expression remained neutral, his attention seemingly elsewhere, but his touch told a different story.

After all these years, he remembered. He remembered how you used to freeze up during moments of intense stress, how just a simple touch—steady and grounding—could help you calm down. You hadn’t needed to explain it to him back then; it was something he’d noticed, something he’d done instinctively. And now, after everything, he was still the same. His hand stayed on your shoulder, firm yet gentle, just like before.

He remembered how you hated when people stared at you in moments of weakness, so he kept his eyes elsewhere. He knew you felt exposed, ashamed even, as if everyone was silently judging you, so he never let that happen. 

He remembered how you felt guilty for needing comfort, for drawing attention to yourself, so he never made a big deal of it. No words, no questions—just a quiet, unwavering presence that said, I’m here.

And you were thankful for that, more than you could ever put into words. It gave you hope. Hope that maybe, after all these years, there is still something left between you. 

With a grateful nod, you looked away as his hand left your shoulder, already missing his warmth. The commotion around you had ended, and people were drifting back into small groups, discussing their next move. You knew you had to focus, to think through the decision, but your mind felt like it was breaking into pieces. Should I vote X? If it wins, you’d leave with 78 million won—not nearly enough to erase your debt, but at least it would mean you were alive. Or should I vote O? That meant continuing the games. No guarantee of survival, but a chance at something greater—a chance to fix everything.

You tilted your head to gaze at the piggy bank hanging above, its glowing light taunting you. Before you could fully weigh your options, a conversation behind you caught your attention.

“Oh, don’t worry. I want to stop here,” In-ho’s voice said casually.

You froze, listening.

“I should go and be with my wife at the hospital,” he added.

Oh.

It was like someone had snuffed out the flicker of hope you’d just found. The energy drained from your body in one cruel wave as the words settled in. A bitter laugh bubbled up in your throat, and you swallowed it down, shaking your head. Of course, he has a wife. How could you have thought otherwise? You felt like a fool for hoping, for thinking even for a second that those small moments meant something more.

Dae-ho’s voice broke your spiraling thoughts. “I’m telling you, we’ll get out this time,” he said with determination, tugging at the patch on his jacket like it was the source of all his problems. “A marine should think strategically and know when to retreat,” he added, giving Jung-bae a playful shake.

Jung-bae, looking utterly rattled, nodded weakly. “R-right… that’s true,” he muttered, though his nervous glances betrayed his doubts.

“We have to end the games here,” Gi-hun said firmly, stepping into the circle of your group. His eyes met yours briefly, and you nodded. It was a silent agreement, one that seemed to lift his spirits slightly.

In-ho, standing off to the side, watched the exchange with something that could only be described as malice.

Dae-ho clapped his hands, calling everyone back to attention. “Alright, let’s huddle up!” he said with a grin, thrusting his hand into the middle.

One by one, everyone joined in. Your hand landed just below In-ho’s, and you tried not to think about it, about how the warmth of his hands made you feel .

“In one, two, three… Victory at all costs!”

“Victory at all costs!”

“This time the vote will begin with Player 001. Please cast your vote.”

All eyes turned to him, including yours. In-ho met your group’s collective gaze with a calm, unreadable expression before walking up to the platform. Without hesitation, he pressed the X button. The distinct chime echoed in the room as the counter for X increased by one.

The next player—Player 006—stepped forward. Without much deliberation, they also pressed X, their vote adding another mark to the tally.

“Player 007.”

Your eyes flicked upward at the familiar number. It was one of your teammates from the second game, Yong-sik. You spotted him in the crowd, watching him lean down to exchange hushed words with his mother. Her expression was tight, desperate, begging him to vote X but he simply nodded before walking to the machine. His hesitation was visible as he stood there, torn between his choices. Then, the sound of O being chosen played, the button glowing bright blue as his vote was registered.

Your heart sank as you saw his mother’s face fall, her grief and disbelief plain for everyone to see. You averted your eyes, unable to look at either of them any longer. You understood both sides of the story—the desperate hope of a mother to save her child so they can go home and the equally desperate desire of a child to pay his debt fully, leaving his mom with no more worries.

The votes continued, each press of a button punctuating the room like a drumbeat of tension. Finally, your turn came. You felt the weight of the decision like a physical burden pressing on your shoulders. Part of you wanted to vote O, to take the gamble, to fight for a chance to win enough to pay off your crushing debt. But the thought of your group—the first people in years who had truly accepted you—stopped you. You had promised yourself that you would protect them, that they would go home safe to their families.

You stepped forward and pressed X. The red glow of the button reflected on your face as the counter ticked up. You removed your blue patch as a guard gave you a red one. You stuck it to your jacket before, giving a small bow to them before retreating to your spot.

As you walked back, you felt In-ho’s gaze following your every step. His eyes burned with intensity, but you didn’t look his way. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, not when you knew the truth now. He had a wife—a life far removed from you. Whatever feelings you might have clung to in the past didn’t matter anymore. You would not degrade yourself into becoming a mistress in someone else’s story.

The voting continued until suddenly, a commotion broke out. Gi-hun stormed to the center of the room, shouting for people to vote X and urging them to end the games. His words rang out with desperation, but before he could fully plead his case, In-ho cut him off.

In-ho’s voice carried an edge of anger as he stepped forward, his composure cracking. “There’s no guarantee you’ll survive the next game! Do you really want to risk your lives for a few more million won?”

The room fell silent for a moment, tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Then Player 100 stepped forward, shaking his head with disdain. “And what if we don’t risk it? We leave here with nothing but debt and regret. One more game, and we’re looking at at least 240 million each. That’s life-changing money!”

His argument ignited the room, and chaos erupted. Voices clashed, some siding with In-ho, others with Player 100. It spiraled into a shouting match, each side growing louder, more frantic.

You stood still, detached from the chaos. As much as you wanted to support your friends, you couldn’t bring yourself to intervene. This wasn’t a debate to be won; it was simply another game of chance, with lives hanging in the balance. The outcome wasn’t up to persuasion or reason. It was up to luck.

Finally, the vote was tallied. O won against X by a wide margin, 139 to 115.

Your stomach churned, fear creeping in as you processed what it meant. You weren’t scared for yourself but for Jun-hee, her kind heart too soft for the brutality of these games. You weren’t worried about your own safety but for Dae-ho, whose unwavering faith in others had been betrayed as Jung-bae—someone he admired and respected—voted O.

When the vote ended, your group regrouped, the air thick with tension and unspoken emotions. You found yourself behind Jun-hee as she ate her portion of the day’s dinner. Her small frame trembled, though she tried to hide it, her hands shaking as she clutched the bread's wrapper.

Without a word, you placed your hands on her shoulders, massaging gently to ease her tension. You moved to her lower back, your fingers pressing lightly, offering what little comfort you could in such a bleak moment. She didn’t say anything, but the way her breathing slowed told you that it helped, even just a little.

Without a second thought, Dae-ho stood up, his face conflicted as he grabbed Jung-bae by the arm and dragged him over to your group. His eyes darted nervously between you, Jun-hee, Young-il, and Gi-hun before his gaze softened, and he let out a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry, [Name], Jun-hee, Young-il,” he started, his voice low, his words laced with guilt. “Gi-hun, I’m sorry…” His apology hung in the air, sincere but laced with discomfort.

He went on to explain his decision to vote O, his voice shaky but determined. “You see, I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors have been harassing my ex-wife and kid. They’re threatening them, and if I play one more game, I think I’ll be able to settle the debt. So…” His words trailed off, the weight of his decision clear in his eyes.

Before you could speak up in defense of Jung-bae, In-ho cut him off, his frustration still fresh from the earlier commotion. His tone was cold, a sharp edge beneath the calm exterior. “Jung-bae,” he started, his voice low but heavy with disappointment. “You of all people shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t twice as righteous.”

You felt a twinge of sympathy for Jung-bae, but In-ho’s words were true. Deep down, you understood why In-ho was so disappointed.

In-ho’s gaze flicked back to Jung-bae as he continued, his words almost regretful. “But looking at the results, even if you two voted against it, we would still have been outvoted.”

“Right? So it’s not really our fault,” Jung-bae quickly added, eager to find any shred of justification. He seemed relieved, like the pressure had been lifted slightly, but his eyes flickered nervously to the others, waiting for confirmation.

Dae-ho, who had been silently observing, scratched his head and gave Jung-bae a comforting pat on the shoulder. His movements were casual, though his eyes were thoughtful. “Honestly, I get why you did it. 78 million won isn’t enough. So when I went to vote, I really thought about going for ‘O’ too.”

You nodded in agreement, a soft murmur of approval escaping you. You understood the temptation, the overwhelming urge to fight for more when it felt like everything was slipping away. The money was too much to ignore.

Seeing the subtle nods of agreement from the group, Jung-bae’s confidence grew. He straightened his posture, eager to make up for his earlier decision. “Next game, I promise. I’ll—”

“Next game?” Gi-hun’s voice cut through the air, sharp and filled with a quiet intensity. “Next game, we might have to kill each other.”

The room went completely still. Everyone froze, the silence thick and suffocating. Gi-hun’s words hung in the air, their weight sinking into each of you. He was right, and the grim truth of it was enough to stop all conversation. There was no sugarcoating it. The next round could very well be the end, and the thought was unbearable.

The quiet that followed was heavy, the dread and uncertainty sinking into your bones. You couldn’t help but feel a cold shiver run down your spine, the magnitude of what was to come settling over you like a thick fog.

Annoyed by the uncomfortable pause, you spoke up, your voice cutting through the tension. “Gi-hun, that’s a bit much. We all know there’s nothing we can do about it now. Let’s just stay focused. We need to eat, get ourselves together, and prepare for the next round.”

The group seemed to agree with your statement, the momentary discomfort fading as they all began to refocus.

In-ho, ever the quiet observer, handed his milk carton to Jun-hee without a word, his gaze flicking to her briefly before he looked away. “I don’t drink plain milk,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the gesture was nothing more than a small, unnoticed act.

Jung-bae, following suit, offered his bread to Jun-hee as well, his eyes shadowed with guilt. “I don’t deserve to eat,” he said with an awkward chuckle, trying to mask the heaviness of his words with forced humor.

You watched the exchange, your heart twisting slightly, but before you could speak, Dae-ho leaned in, his voice light but with an edge of concern. “I’ll take the milk carton?”

When Jung-bae shot him a glare, Dae-ho hesitated, then pulled back, not wanting to push it further.

As you ate, you couldn’t help but feel the heavy weight of what was ahead. The uncertainty, the danger—it all felt too much. But in this moment, you focused on your meal, knowing it was the only thing you could control for now.

You found yourself sitting beside Dae-ho, your bread in hand, chewing quietly as you both took a brief moment of respite. Dae-ho seemed lost in thought, his eyes darting toward you, hesitant yet full of unasked questions.

“If you have any questions, just ask me, Dae-ho,” you said, offering a small smile. “I’m not gonna bite, you know?”

His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, caught off guard by your casual invitation. But he took a deep breath, calm now, and turned to face you fully. “Do you have kids at home, [Name]nim?” he asked, his voice low but sincere. “It’s just... whenever I see you with Jun-heesii, it reminds me of my mother taking care of me and my four sisters.”

You hesitated, feeling a slight pang of discomfort as you realized the question would require a vulnerable answer. In-ho, sitting nearby, seemed to listen in, his curiosity piqued. Part of him, though, wished you didn’t have any children, that you weren’t settled in on with somebody, a selfish thought he quickly pushed away.

“Ah, this is embarrassing,” you murmured, a soft laugh escaping you as you fidgeted with your bread. “I actually don’t have any kids or a husband... I’ve never even had a boyfriend. Boys don’t really look at me like that, if you know what I mean. Life wasn’t that nice to me, especially after we moved. I didn’t have the time or luck for any of that…”

Dae-ho’s expression softened with guilt. He immediately regretted asking the question, but when he saw the faint longing in your eyes, he paused. There was something more behind your words—something unspoken, something that told him you longed for a family, for the chance to live that dream.

In-ho, overhearing, felt a pang in his chest. What had happened to you? He knew things had ended badly between the two of you, but he never expected life to treat you so harshly. You were kind, generous, and had always believed in the goodness of people. He couldn’t understand why life had been so difficult for you. You didn’t deserve that.

Before the silence could grow any heavier, Jung-bae mischievously broke it with a suggestion. “Well, if you like, I can set you up with someone back in Ssangmun-dong. Right, Gi-hun?”

Gi-hun, who had been quiet up until then, blinked in surprise, his confusion evident. “Huh? Who?”

“You know! Sang-woo! The Pride of Ssangmun-dong!” Jung-bae grinned, clearly amused by his own suggestion. “I think he and [Name] would make a great couple, don’t you think?”

At the mention of Sang-woo, Gi-hun’s face shifted. His expression faltered, a wave of guilt and sadness clouding his features. A pained smile tugged at his lips as he nodded absently. “Yeah... I think so too,” he murmured, his mind clearly elsewhere as he drifted off into his own thoughts.

The sudden change in Gi-hun’s demeanor caught your attention. His usual angry and tense self had been replaced with something quieter, a deep sadness that seemed to pull at him. You looked to Jung-bae for an explanation, your brows furrowed in concern.

In a soft voice, Jung-bae filled in the blanks. “Gi-hun and Sang-woo were childhood friends, but... he’s been missing for years.”

You nodded, understanding the pain behind Gi-hun’s words. You could relate to that feeling—the ache of a long-lost connection. You couldn’t help but feel a pang in your own heart as well. Even though the lost connection was right in front of you, and he still felt so far away.

Gi-hun’s sadness wasn’t a good look on him. He was always either grumpy or happy, never in between. You wanted to change that. You thought back to when you missed In-ho so much, you’d drown your sorrows in alcohol and chatter to Young-sun about him. Maybe, just maybe, getting Gi-hun to talk about Sang-woo could help him, even if it was just for a little while.

“Hey, Gi-hun,” you called softly, breaking the silence. “Tell me more about this Sang-woo guy. Who knows, maybe we’d click together, you know?”

Gi-hun’s eyes widened in surprise, clearly caught off guard by your question. But something in his gaze softened as he began to talk. He recounted bits and pieces of his childhood with Sang-woo, his voice lighting up with nostalgia. His eyes shined as he described his friend’s strengths, quirks, and all the little memories they shared.

From the way Gi-hun spoke, you could see how much Sang-woo meant to him. The same way you felt about In-ho, the weight of love and loss behind every word. You silently prayed for their reunion. Gi-hun deserved happiness, and you wished for him to find it—whether through Sang-woo or another way.

In-ho’s jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation flashing in his eyes. If they were going to give you a partner, they should give you someone who can protect you—someone who knows you, your likes and dislikes, your type... His thoughts were possessive— jealous. His hands clenched into fists, though he forced himself to stay composed. He wasn’t sure why the thought of you with someone else hurt so much, but it did. It hurt more than he was willing to admit.

As the conversation shifted and laughter filled the space, In-ho stayed silent, the weight of his unspoken emotions heavy in the air. The conversation ended when they all went to the bathroom, leaving you and Jun-hee alone. She wasted no time asking a question that had been bothering her ever since she noticed something strange.

“[Name]nim, do you know Young-ilnim? Like, before the games?”

You were taken aback, your surprise evident in the way your eyes widened. What prompted her to ask such a thing?

“No, not that I remember,” you replied, a small ache tugging at your chest. It was hard to say those words. “Why do you ask?”

Jun-hee hesitated, her gaze flickering down to her hands. “It’s just that… I always see Young-ilnim looking at you, or staring at you. Especially when you helped me during the second game. His stare... it was like there was something there.” She trailed off, her voice quiet, unsure if she had crossed a line. “I thought you two might know each other. Sorry if I overstepped.”

“No, no... don’t apologize, Jun-hee. You didn’t do anything wrong,” you reassured her with a small smile. “Maybe I just remind him of someone?”

The conversation shifted, and though the topic ended there, you couldn’t help but linger on what Jun-hee said. In-ho, looking at you? Your mind spun with questions that you couldn't quite answer. But before you could dive deeper into your thoughts, the group returned from the bathroom, and the moment was gone.

Gi-hun gathered everyone, asking them to bring their mattresses and bedding to your designated spot. You all exchanged confused looks but did as instructed, gathering pillows and blankets. It was clear there was something important going on, and it wasn’t lost on anyone.

As you and Jun-hee handed out the bedding, the tension in the air grew. Jung-bae spoke up. “Hey, is this really necessary? I don’t like sleeping under here.”

Gi-hun continued setting down blankets without looking up. “Once the lights go out, someone might attack us.”

His words grabbed everyone's attention, and you paused, glancing around. Dae-ho, curiosity now evident in his eyes, asked, “Why would anyone do that?”

“The prize money goes up every time someone dies. It’s part of the game they designed,” Gi-hun explained, his voice tense with the weight of the situation.

You frowned, the idea feeling far-fetched at first. But as you thought about the desperation you’d seen in people—and the way some of the others eyed the prize board with hunger—it started to make a disturbing kind of sense. Gi-hun’s words seemed to settle over the group like a cold shiver, but In-ho wasn’t convinced. “Gi-hun, I think you're overreacting,” he said, shaking his head. “Even if that were true, people wouldn’t do that.”

Gi-hun turned to him sharply, fury in his eyes. “In the previous games, dozens of people killed each other at night. Right here, you have no idea how people can change in a place like this…”

In-ho trailed off, looking away, clearly uncomfortable. “I see… I guess I didn’t know what I was talking about. I’m sorry.”

The tension between the two men was palpable, but Gi-hun, though still angry, nodded with some understanding. “We need to take turns keeping watch after the lights go out.”

“I’ll take the first watch. You should decide the order for the rest,” Gi-hun added, continuing to spread the last of the blankets.

It wasn’t long after that you found yourself lying on the bottom bed, the silence in the room heavy. You couldn’t tell what time it was, but sleep seemed distant. With your eyes closed, you tried to rest, but your mind kept wandering. You couldn’t shake the thoughts of Jun-hee’s question, of In-ho’s gaze, and of all the tension in the air.

After what felt like an eternity, you couldn’t stay still any longer. You quietly rolled out of the bed, careful not to disturb Jun-hee beside you. As you stood, you rubbed your eyes, still groggy but wide awake. You walked over to the one who was supposed to be keeping watch.

“Hey... get some sleep. I’ve got it from here,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath in the darkness.

When no response came, you paused, your heart beating a little faster. Had you imagined it? You slapped your cheek lightly, half-expecting to wake up from a dream, but the sting was real. This was no dream. You were still in the game. But who was supposed to be guarding?

As you glanced toward the guard, your breath caught in your throat. There, in the dim light, stood In-ho, staring at you with wide, almost startled eyes.

“In-ho...” you whispered, the name escaping before you could stop it.

He blinked, his expression unreadable. “[Name]... sit down, will you?” His voice was quiet, laced with an undercurrent of tension. You did as he asked, your body moving on its own, though the atmosphere between the two of you felt thick with unspoken words.

You sat there, your knees pressed together. The silence stretched, heavy and thick. There were so many things unsaid between you, so many apologies left unspoken, so many reasons left unexplained. Neither of you seemed to know where to start, but the distance between you had never felt more real. You had shared a bond once, and now it was hard to find the words to bridge the gap that had formed.

In-ho shifted slightly, as if searching for something to say, but still, nothing came. Neither of you moved for what felt like hours, both of you stuck in a place neither knew how to navigate.

The silence between you and In-ho lingered, thick and suffocating, each of you carrying the weight of the years since you’d last spoken. Finally, In-ho shifted, breaking the stillness, his voice low and tight.

"[Name], I—I'm sorry," he started, his words hesitant, as though testing the waters.

"I shouldn't have acted like that, not when you were leaving. On our last day together, I—" He stopped himself, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes avoiding yours, searching for the right words in the dim light. "I was so angry, I couldn’t think straight. I didn’t mean to push you away. I never should have let my emotions control me like that, especially when I knew you were going away."

Your chest tightened at his words. The apology you’d waited for, yet feared to hear, was finally being spoken, but the bitterness still clung to you. You swallowed hard, forcing the anger down, trying not to let it rise again. It felt like you were walking a fine line, torn between the hurt and the understanding you wished you could give him.

"You know," you said softly, voice wavering, "I was angry, too. You pushed me away, In-ho. I never got to explain myself, to tell you why I had to leave. It hurt so much that you didn’t even give me a chance." You paused, trying to steady yourself. "I don’t know what you thought, but I wasn’t running away from you. I... I never wanted to hurt you."

In-ho’s eyes flickered, regret and guilt tugging at his expression. His hand tightened into a fist, then relaxed at his side, as if searching for the right words but struggling to find them.

"I thought you were just... leaving, leaving me, leaving us." he said quietly, his voice strained with emotion. "I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t know if I could let you go. But you were going, and it felt like I was losing you, like you’d be gone for good. I was angry that you didn’t even try to stay. I thought you had already made your choice." He swallowed hard, his gaze still on the floor. "I thought you didn’t care about me the way I cared about you."

Tears threatened at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. This was it. The truth you’d wanted to hear, but it didn’t make it any easier to bear. The anger you’d carried for so long still clung to you, but in this moment, it was tinged with understanding.

"I didn’t know you felt that way," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I thought you hated me for leaving. I thought I’d ruined everything, and you’d never forgive me for it." You took a deep breath, trying to steady the shaking in your chest. A tremor crept into your voice as you fought to hold back the emotions welling up inside you. 

"I understood why you did it," you said, voice cracking slightly. "I understood it at the time. You were scared, just like I was. But it didn’t make it hurt any less." Your voice dropped. "I didn’t know how to feel. You were the one person I thought I could rely on, and then you turned away without a word. And I had no choice but to carry that weight with me."

Your eyes locked onto his, your heart aching at the sight of the guilt in his expression. “I spent so much time angry at you, blaming you for leaving me like that. But now... now I know we were both just lost. I didn’t know how to handle it, and neither did you.”

In-ho’s face softened, his expression full of regret. "I wish I had known how to handle it better. I wish I had been braver... for you, for us. I should’ve told you how I felt, instead of shutting myself off."

The words hung in the air for a long moment, both of you silently processing what had been said. Then, as if a dam had broken, you continued, feeling a rush of emotions that you hadn’t been able to express before.

"All those years... I kept wondering if I could’ve done something different. If I could have convinced my parents to stay. But I was too proud, too scared. And when we left, it felt like the world just... stopped. I couldn't move forward, not without you. I didn’t know how to move on. And I don’t know if I ever truly did." Your voice cracked, the weight of it all coming crashing down in that moment.

In-ho’s breath hitched as you spoke, his eyes never leaving yours. “I was scared, too. I didn’t know how to handle the idea of losing you. But I realize now... that by pushing you away, I was only making it worse. I’m sorry, [Name]. I’m so sorry for everything.”

You both sat there in the quiet, the weight of the past hanging heavily in the air between you. In-ho’s voice broke through the silence again, softer this time. “I should’ve been better for you. I should’ve told you how I felt, not let my fear take over.”

Your heart ached hearing the sincerity in his words. He was so close now, but there was still a lingering distance between you. His hand hovered near yours, unsure if you’d let him in. Without thinking, you reached out, your fingers brushing his. The touch was like a lifeline, pulling you both back from the uncertainty.

In-ho’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his hand finally resting on top of yours. He shifted slightly, moving a little closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. There was a vulnerability in his gaze now, something you hadn’t seen in him before. “I don’t want to lose you again,” he said, his voice low and steady.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you had to swallow hard to keep them from spilling over. For so long, you’d carried this burden of unspoken words, of lost time. But now, sitting here beside him, it felt like the weight was lifting, bit by bit.

In-ho seemed to sense your struggle, his hand gently squeezing yours. “I’m sorry for everything I put you through. I never wanted you to feel abandoned or alone.”

The words were all you needed. With a shaky breath, you leaned toward him, resting your head on his shoulder. The closeness between you felt like a reunion, a connection rediscovered after years apart. In-ho’s arm slipped around you, pulling you just a little closer, as though he never wanted to let go again.

He ran his hand through your hair, slowly, gently, as if trying to calm the storm inside you. The motion was soothing, and for the first time in so long, you felt at peace. The anger and the hurt slowly started to fade, replaced by something new—something warm.

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

In-ho paused, his breath hitching as he processed your words. He pulled back slightly to look at you, his face inches from yours. “I’ve missed you, too,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

You both sat there in the quiet, letting the words hang in the air, surrounded by the unspoken promise of a new beginning. The past wasn’t something that could be erased, but it didn’t have to define you anymore. What mattered now was that you were here, together, in this moment.

In-ho held you close as you let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of everything you’d kept inside for so long. You felt his chest rise and fall against you, steady and warm, as his presence grounded you. After a long moment of silence, he pulled back just enough to look at your face, his expression filled with concern and curiosity.

“What happened to you, [Name]?” he asked softly, his voice thick with emotion. “What happened all of this? I’ve been wondering for years.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest as the memories threatened to spill out. But, in his embrace, it felt safer to finally speak the truth. Slowly, you opened your mouth, your voice a whisper against his chest.

“I didn’t want to leave, In-ho,” you murmured. “But I had no choice.” Your voice cracked as you spoke, the weight of your past pressing down on you. “My parents... My father left for someone else, and my mother... she just disappeared. One day she was there, and the next, she was gone. I was... alone.”

You felt In-ho’s grip tighten around you as you spoke, but he said nothing. He just listened, offering his silent support.

“I tried to hold it together,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “But the bills kept piling up, and I couldn’t see a way out. I was working non-stop, just trying to keep up, but it never seemed to end. So, I thought, maybe a small loan would help... just to get by for a little while. But it only made things worse. I kept borrowing, and the interest kept stacking up. Eventually, I couldn’t keep up at all. To cope with everything, I started drinking. I just needed something to numb the pain.”

You paused, trying to steady your breathing. It felt like the floodgates had opened, and now there was no stopping it.

“After a while, it became a habit,” you said, your voice shaking. “I couldn’t face the world without it. And... I lost everything. My job, my sense of myself. I kept pushing people away because I didn’t know how to fix anything. I didn’t even know how to fix myself.”

In-ho’s hand gently cupped the back of your head, pulling you closer against his shoulder as if to shield you from the weight of your own words. He didn’t say anything at first, letting the silence settle between you. Then, his voice broke through the stillness.

“I’m sorry, [Name], I wish I was there with you during those times,” In-ho murmured, his voice filled with regret, each word heavy, like it carried all the years of silence and distance between you.

You let out a quiet sigh, the ache in your chest growing as you tried to push back against the weight of the past. The pain, the loss—it was all there, hovering just beneath the surface, but you chose to focus on what was right in front of you now. You chose the present. “It’s okay, In-ho,” you said softly, trying to steady your voice, but your heart was louder than it had been in years. “What matters now is you’re here with me, just like before.”

He was still so close to you, your bodies pressed together in the embrace, his breath uneven against your shoulder. His hand traced the back of your neck, his touch gentle, as though trying to reassure you, to hold you together. But there was more to it—something unspoken, a pull between you that neither of you had fully acknowledged until now. The warmth of his body, the steadiness of his presence, felt so right, and yet, it stirred something deeper, something dangerous.

His fingers grazed your cheek, his touch soft and hesitant, like he was testing the waters. He lingered, his thumb tracing the outline of your jaw. The tension between you was palpable, and you could feel that silent question in the air, one you had both ignored for so long. Could you finally give in? Could you finally let go of the years that had kept you apart?

You wanted to lean in. You wanted to close that distance, to feel his lips against yours and forget everything else. All the pain, the years apart, the weight of the world—it could disappear, just for a moment. But your mind raced with doubts. What if this wasn’t real? What if it was just a fleeting feeling? What if you were getting swept up in the moment, in the desperation of it all?

And then, In-ho’s lips brushed against your forehead, his kiss tender and almost like a promise. You didn’t hesitate this time. The distance between you seemed to disappear, and without thinking, you leaned in. Your lips parted, and your breath mingled with his as you slowly closed the gap, inch by inch. Your heart raced, your pulse pounding in your ears. It was all so familiar, yet so new. You could feel everything—the pain, the longing, the need. You wanted to erase the distance, to bridge the gap that had haunted you both for so long.

But just as you were about to close the distance completely, just as you were about to feel his lips against yours, something flashed through your mind. The memory of him speaking of his wife, of the woman who was supposedly ill in the hospital, came crashing back. Your chest tightened. He was already married. You pulled back suddenly, your breath caught in your throat.

“What about your wife, In-ho?” Your voice trembled, barely above a whisper. The words had been building inside you, but you couldn’t stop them. The questions came rushing to the surface. The connection, the closeness—it felt so real, but how could it be? How could you trust this moment when he had a sick wife waiting for his return?

In-ho froze, his eyes widening for a brief moment. Then, as though realizing the weight of what he’d said, his expression softened. He reached for you immediately, his hands cupping your face gently, almost desperately, like he couldn’t bear the space between you now.

“No,” he said, his voice low and strained. “You don’t understand. I lied to them. The wife... the illness... even my name. I did it for safety.” He explained as fast as he could.

“I swear to you, [Name], I wanted you. I always have. I’ve always wanted you. I’ve been waiting... waiting for you. All these years.”

The words hit you like a wave, sweeping over everything you had believed. The confession shattered your doubt. The years apart, the silence, the feelings that had never gone away. You had thought he was moving on, that he had a life without you, but now he was telling you that it had always been you. That he had always wanted you.

You looked into his eyes, searching for the truth, and for the first time in years, you saw it—his vulnerability, his sincerity. He had waited for you. He wasn’t lying now. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, and in that moment, you whispered, almost to yourself, “I never stopped thinking about you, either.”

That was it. Your hands, almost on their own, moved to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. The hesitation, the doubt, all of it was gone. You leaned in again, this time with no fear, no second-guessing. You could feel his lips, just inches from yours, and this time, it was going to happen. There was no turning back.

But just as you closed your eyes, just as you felt the warmth of his lips moving toward yours, the room suddenly lit up. The loudspeaker crackled to life, its cold, mechanical voice slicing through the moment like a knife.

“Third game will begin momentarily. All players, please get out of bed and get ready.”

The announcement shattered the moment like glass and reality rushed in. You pulled away quickly, both of you flustered, eyes wide as reality snapped back into place. In-ho let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. His gaze, still soft from the moment, quickly shifted into irritation.

You, too, felt your cheeks burn with the sudden shift. You couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh, the absurdity of it all washing over you. “Of course,” you muttered, voice a little shaky. “Couldn’t be that easy, huh?”

In-ho shot you a look, a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “I swear, they have the worst timing.” He shook his head, clearly irritated by how things had unfolded, but there was a trace of humor in his voice that made the tension feel lighter.

You both sat there for a moment, the awkwardness of the interruption still hanging in the air but somehow feeling less heavy. It was like you’d both just come back from the edge of something important—and the abrupt break made you laugh despite the weight of everything. In-ho let out a short chuckle too, the irritation in his eyes still there but fading, replaced by a sense of shared frustration with the situation.

You glanced at him, eyes still lingering as you both realized how close you'd come to crossing that line. But there was no point in lingering on it now—not with the game calling you back to reality.

“Guess the universe isn’t ready for us yet,” you said, shaking your head.

In-ho gave a soft, exasperated sigh, but the corner of his mouth twitched up slightly. “Yeah, well, it never really was on our side before,” he muttered, then stood, adjusting his clothes and brushing off the frustration like it was nothing.

You nodded, taking a deep breath before turning your back, to tend to the pregnant girl you had been caring for. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t feel quite as impossible as it had before. In-ho followed suit, his gaze lingering on you a little longer than necessary. For a moment, the room felt like it belonged to just the two of you again. But the third game was calling, and you both knew you had to face it. Together, this time.

The third game was Mingle. A game where you had to form pairs based on a number assigned and get into a room within 30 seconds. As the platform spun beneath your feet, you felt a wave of nostalgia wash over you. It reminded you of times spent playing this game with friends back in Gyeonggi-do. You remembered one time in particular, when he had gotten into a fight with a common friend, because of the said game. You laughed softly at the memory, causing In-ho to glance over at you, curiosity in his eyes.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, his voice low but still full of interest.

“Nothing,” you said with a soft chuckle. “I just remembered how Byung-hun was angry when you pulled him off of me, so you and I could be partners instead. Didn’t peg you to be a jealous kid.”

In-ho immediately bristled, though there was a playful glint in his eyes. “Hey, I wasn’t jealous. He was hurting you by gripping you so hard.”

“It didn’t even hurt!” you teased, but the corner of your lips twitched upward, unable to keep a smile off your face. “You’re just jealous.”

“Whatever you say…” In-ho muttered, stepping onto the platform. You followed him, shaking your head but smiling at the same time.

After four rounds, you all began preparing for the final one. The rounds were nerve-wracking, the tension palpable, but you had made it this far with the help of your amazing group. The platform began to spin, the music creating a frantic rhythm as it played in the background. You found yourself standing beside Jun-hee, instinctively holding her steady to keep her from stumbling as the platform jerked beneath your feet.

“What do you think the next number will be?” Jung-bae asked, his voice alert as he looked around.

Without hesitation, In-ho spoke up. “Two.”

Gi-hun raised an eyebrow, glancing at In-ho, silently asking him to explain.

“There are 50 rooms, and 126 people still alive. Everyone will need a partner, but there won’t be enough rooms. This is how they conduct these games.” In-ho’s eyes were sharp, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit of awe at how quickly he had figured it out.

And as it turned out, he was right.

2.

Everyone paused, looking around at each other, wondering who would pair up with whom. Before you could grab Jun-hee to pair up, In-ho suddenly grabbed your arm, pulling you along with him. The rest of your group—Dae-ho with Jun-hee, Gi-hun with Jung-bae—quickly followed, all of you rushing to find a room.

You spotted an open door and, without thinking, you shouted. “Over there!” You both sprinted toward it, but before you could step inside, a man suddenly tackled you to the ground. Your head slammed hard against the floor, and for a moment, everything spun.

In-ho’s face twisted with fury as he watched the man try to crawl into the room you had been aiming for, disregarding you entirely. Without thinking, he reached for the man, grabbing him by the neck and shoving him away from you.

“Get in the room!” In-ho shouted, his voice sharp and commanding. You were dizzy and nauseous, the world spinning around you, but you didn’t hesitate. You stumbled to your feet, still feeling the lingering effects of the impact, and forced yourself into the room, fighting through the haze in your head.

But as soon as you entered, something coiled around your neck, a vice-like grip tightening with brutal force. You gasped, your throat constricting as you tried to draw in a breath, but the air seemed to vanish. Your vision blurred, dark edges creeping into the periphery of your sight. Panic surged like a tidal wave, and you clawed at the hands choking you, but they were relentless. Your breath came in short, desperate gasps, each one feeling more like a plea for life than a simple breath.

The world around you was fading, your chest tightening, your limbs growing heavier. You struggled harder, your body thrashing, trying to free yourself, but the darkness was swallowing you whole.

And then—just when you thought you would lose consciousness—there was a shift. The grip loosened. The constriction around your throat vanished in an instant, and you gasped, desperately drawing in the breath you had been fighting for. The air tasted sharp, bitter, as if the world itself was trying to punish you for the terror you had just experienced.

And there he was—In-ho.

He stood over you, his face a mask of fury, eyes wild and unrecognizable with the force of his anger. His knuckles were white, gripping his fist tightly, as though the act of hitting the man who had attacked you had only just begun to settle in. His face was twisted in a way you’d never seen before. Something inside him was unraveling—breaking.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he turned on the man who had attacked you, and the sound of his fist meeting the man’s face was deafening. A sickening crack echoed through the room, sharp and cruel, as In-ho’s punch sent the man crashing to the floor. But In-ho wasn’t done. The fury inside him was a beast, a monster he couldn’t control. He grabbed the man by the neck, his fingers tightening with savage force, twisting, until there was an awful snap.

The sound of a life being crushed, broken beyond repair, sent a shockwave through your body. Your stomach turned violently, and your chest tightened, as though you could feel the man’s life draining out of him, just like your own hope of ever seeing In-ho as you once had. It wasn’t just the man who had died. In-ho had killed, and something inside him had died, too.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you couldn’t move. You stared at him, frozen by what he had just done, your heart racing as the gravity of the moment began to settle in. His chest heaved, each breath coming out ragged and uneven. But it wasn’t the man’s blood on his hands that terrified you the most. It was the look in his eyes. Dark. Soulless. As though he was searching for something—anything—to bring him back to the man he once was. But it was gone. That warmth. That kindness. All of it.

"In-ho..." you whispered, your voice cracking as you reached for him, but he wouldn’t look at you.

His gaze was distant, bloodshot, as though he couldn’t even recognize the person standing in front of him. For a brief moment, you feared you were losing him—losing the man you thought you knew.

And you couldn’t let that happen.

“In-ho,” you whispered again, more urgently this time, your voice thick with unshed tears. “Thank you. For saving my life. Again.”

His jaw clenched, the guilt settling into every line of his face. “I’m sorry, [Name],” he said, his voice breaking, and you could hear the remorse in every word, the weight of his actions pressing down on him. “I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, your heart hammering as you let out a shaky breath. “What are you sorry for?” Your voice was stronger now, fueled by a strange mixture of anger and desperation. “That bastard almost killed me, and I’m glad he’s gone. I’m glad he’s dead. What’s there to apologize for, In-ho? You saved me. You did what had to be done.”

But In-ho’s gaze softened for only a moment before it hardened again, his hands curling into fists. He was still haunted by what he had done. You could see it in the tight set of his shoulders, in the way he stood, as though he was trying to hold himself together. But the cracks were showing, and you couldn’t let him fall apart in front of you. Not when you needed him most.

Before you could say anything else, the adrenaline that had kept you both on edge began to fade, and the weight of everything—the violence, the pain, the fear—settled into the pit of your stomach. You threw your arms around him, not caring about anything else. Not the blood, not the death, not the mess that surrounded you.

You held him tight, pressing your face into his chest as sobs wracked your body, uncontrollable and raw. “I thought I was going to die…” you whispered between breaths, your voice trembling with the weight of the fear you had felt. “I didn’t know... I didn’t know what was going to happen...”

In-ho didn’t say anything at first. He just held you, his arms coming around you in a protective, desperate way, like he was trying to shield you from the madness, from the horrors that were closing in on you both. His chest was shaking with the same unspoken terror, his breath ragged in your hair as he held you closer, as though afraid you might slip away if he let go.

You closed your eyes, pressing harder into him, the weight of his words sinking into your heart. But no matter how tightly he held you, there was a part of you that was already broken, already afraid that the man you had just seen—the man who had crossed a line he never should’ve had to—was never going to come back.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” he whispered, barely audible. “I couldn’t let that happen.”

You both stood there in silence for a long moment, caught in the aftermath of what had just unfolded, the weight of the violence and the fear finally catching up to you. But for the first time in what felt like forever, you knew—no matter what happened next, you weren’t alone.

After the third game, the group gathered in the makeshift fort Gi-hun had set up, each player lost in their own thoughts. The atmosphere was heavy as they processed the brutal reality of the games. Gi-hun asked Jung-bae to report the number of players who had voted to continue. The tally revealed 56 players had voted O, while the X team remained outnumbered by twelve votes.

In-ho suggested that if six players switched their votes, it would result in a tie, and seven switches would tip the scales in their favor. The tension was palpable as everyone prepared for the vote. When the results were announced, it was a tie. Relief spread through the group, prompting cheers, but their celebration was short-lived.

The guards announced that a tie meant another vote would take place the following day. Dinner was served, and while the group shared light moments to ease their nerves, the tension lingered, a silent reminder of the stakes.

That night, chaos erupted when a fight broke out in the bathroom between the two sides. The O team accused the X team of initiating the attack, while the X team retaliated with their own accusations. The conflict escalated quickly, spreading through the room like wildfire. By the time order was restored, Team X had gained an advantage, now numbering 48 players compared to Team O's 47.

“Two people died on our side,” Player 047 said grimly, sitting down. “We lost three overall, but we’re still ahead by one vote.”

Jung-bae tried to remain optimistic, his voice steady. “As long as we don’t change our minds, we’ll win tomorrow.”

Suddenly, the announcement broke the silence.

“Attention, please. Lights out in 30 minutes. All players, please return to your beds and prepare for bedtime.”

Player 047 turned to the group, his voice firm. “Listen, no one can change their mind, okay? We’ll win tomorrow. Stay strong, and we’ll make it through.”

The group murmured their agreement, but Gi-hun’s expression remained tense.

Dae-ho leaned in, glancing toward the opposing team. “Those guys are acting really suspicious. They’re planning something—I can feel it.”

Jung-bae waved him off. “Whatever. Once we win tomorrow’s vote, it’ll all be over.”

“No. Once the lights go out, they’ll attack us.” Gi-hun spoke, his voice calm but filled with tension.

The room went silent. Player 007’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, They know we’re at an advantage,” He said, voice steady despite the situation. “They’ll try to kill some of us tonight to even the odds and raise the prize money.”

“Then we should attack first. We need to take them by surprise,” In-ho suggested, his tone firm. His words were met with agreement from Player 047, who nodded and added, “We have the women and elderly on our side. If they attack first, we’ll be at a huge disadvantage.”

But Gi-hun raised a hand, his expression grim. “No. We can’t start a fight like that.”

The group turned to him, confused by his sudden objection. Gi-hun’s voice cut through the growing tension, calm yet weighted. “We need to stay calm. If we kill each other, that’s exactly what they want.”

“Who are they? Who are you talking about?”

“The makers of the game,” Gi-hun said bitterly, his eyes burning with anger. His words hung heavy in the air, silencing the murmurs around the room. “They’re the ones who want us to kill each other. They’re watching us right now.”

A chill ran down your spine as you processed his words. The room fell silent, each player lost in thought. Dae-ho broke the quiet, his voice tight. “Where are they?” 

Gi-hun slowly looked up, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. “Up there,” he murmured, his voice barely audible but filled with conviction. You all follow. His eyes seemed to pierce the walls as though he could see straight into them. “The control rooms are above us. Their leader wears a black mask. If we capture him, we’ll have leverage.”

In-ho scoffed slightly, though there was no mockery in his tone. “How are you going to fight them? They’ve got guns.”

“We’ll take their guns.”

“From the masked men?” Player 246 asked, his disbelief evident.

Gi-hun nodded resolutely. “Yes. We’ll catch them off guard. They won’t expect it.”

“That’s too dangerous,” In-ho said, shaking his head. “Even if we manage to steal their guns, we’ll be outnumbered.”

Gi-hun’s gaze hardened. “What’s your plan, then? Sit around and wait to die? Watch as they pick us off, one by one? Is that your idea of survival?” His voice rose slightly, the desperation in his tone cutting through the tension.

The silence that followed was suffocating, each player wrestling with the grim reality of their situation. You could see some heads nodding in reluctant agreement, while others remained still, their fear paralyzing them.

Player 120 spoke up hesitantly, her voice trembling. “Do we even stand a chance?”

“We do,” Gi-hun said, his voice unwavering. “If we strike first, we catch them off guard. They’ll never see it coming. The people running this game think we’re powerless, but we have the upper hand now. This is our last chance to end these games once and for all.”

“How do you plan to take their guns?” In-ho asked again, his skepticism still evident.

Gi-hun didn’t hesitate. His determination was clear, as if he had already played the scenario out in his head. “Once the lights go out, we’ll have our chance.”

Lights out in ten.

The countdown began, the numbers pounding in your skull like the beat of a war drum. You lay stiffly on your bed, your muscles tense and ready to spring. Your heart raced as Gi-hun’s instructions echoed in your mind—Once the lights go out, get under the bottom beds quickly. You must not get caught by those planning to attack us.

You clutched the edge of the bed, your nails digging into the rough wood. The seconds dragged, each one stretching impossibly long, amplifying the terror building in your chest.

One.

The lights flickered violently before plunging the room into suffocating darkness. The sudden silence was deafening. You could hear every breath you took, each one louder than the last, as if your own body was betraying you.

For a brief, terrible moment, the room was still.

The silence was suffocating, a heavy void pressing down on you as though the darkness itself were alive. You held your breath, every muscle locked in place, straining to catch the faintest sound.

Then the chaos began.

Screams erupted, raw and animalistic, tearing through the suffocating silence like claws raking through flesh. Heavy footsteps thundered across the room as bodies scrambled and collided in the dark. The sound of someone slamming into a metal bed reverberated like a gunshot, followed by the sickening, wet crunch of bone meeting steel.

The sharp clang of makeshift weapons rang out, chaotic and dissonant, punctuated by the grotesque, unmistakable sound of flesh being pierced. It was chaos, raw and brutal, an orchestra of horror conducted by desperation.

You didn’t think—there wasn’t time to think. Instinct took over as you dove to the floor, crawling under the bed as Gi-hun had warned. Your breath came in short, panicked bursts, and you pressed yourself flat against the cold floor, willing the shadows to swallow you whole.

The room was a nightmare brought to life. The desperate shrieks of the dying mingled with the guttural grunts of attackers. Somewhere close, you heard a chilling, high-pitched laugh—a sound that sent icy needles of fear racing up your spine. The stench of sweat, blood, and raw terror filled your nose, a nauseating cocktail that made your stomach churn.

A body hit the ground nearby with a sickening thud, so close you could feel the vibrations reverberate through the floor. You froze, every nerve in your body screaming as you listened to their gasping breaths turn into choking, gurgling sounds.

You wanted to turn away, to block out the awful noise, but there was nowhere to go. Even pressing your hands over your ears couldn’t drown out the terrible symphony of suffering.

The screams were getting closer. You clenched your jaw, biting back a whimper as you pressed yourself tighter against the floor, your trembling fingers digging into the cold metal beneath the bed.

Your heart stopped when you felt it—a hand clamping down on your shoulder, strong and unyielding.

Your blood turned to ice, the chill spreading through your veins. Panic seized you, and you thrashed instinctively, your mind consumed by the singular thought that someone had found you. You opened your mouth to scream, but a second hand covered it before a sound could escape.

For a moment, terror blinded you, until a familiar face appeared as the lights flickered.

It was In-ho.

His expression was calm, but his eyes were sharp, scanning the room with laser focus. “Quiet,” he whispered, his voice low and urgent, barely audible over the chaos.

Relief swept over you, so sudden and overwhelming that it left you momentarily breathless. But it didn’t last. 

A bloodcurdling scream tore through the air, followed by the sickening sound of someone being dragged across the floor. You flinched violently, but In-ho’s hand tightened on your shoulder, grounding you. His grip was firm, steadying you even as your body shook uncontrollably.

The two of you stayed motionless, his presence the only thing keeping you tethered to reality as the violence raged around you. Every scream, every thud, every awful, wet crunch seemed amplified in the darkness, etching itself into your mind. You wanted to shut your eyes, to block it all out, but the terror kept them wide open, unblinking.

Gradually, the chaos began to subside. The screams turned into weak sobs, the sounds of struggle fading into an eerie, oppressive silence. Then came the mechanical hiss of the doors opening, cold and detached, signaling that the nightmare was over.

But you knew better. It was far from over.

In-ho’s hand finally relaxed on your shoulder, and you turned to him. His face was unreadable in the dim light, but there was something in his eyes—something fleeting, unspoken. Before you could say a word, he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Stay safe,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. Then, without waiting for a response, he crawled out from under the bed, disappearing into the shadows.

You stared after him, your mind struggling to process what had just happened. The display of affection, so sudden and unexpected, left you reeling. By the time you snapped out of your stupor, he was already gone.

The sound of gunfire shattered your thoughts, sharp and jarring, each shot echoing like a death knell in the enclosed space. You curled into yourself, covering your ears as tears pricked at your eyes.

Please let them be safe, you prayed silently, over and over again, the words a desperate mantra. Please let them succeed.

After a while, Gi-hun’s voice finally rang out—calm but commanding—it felt like the first breath after being submerged underwater. “Hold fire!”

The gunfire stopped.

Slowly, you crawled out from under the bed, your limbs trembling so violently it was a struggle to move. The room was a battlefield, littered with bodies and soaked in blood. Your eyes darted frantically, searching for one face, one person who mattered more than anything in that moment.

Your heart leapt when you spotted Jun-hee crouched nearby, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her wide eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Jun-hee,” you whispered hoarsely, stumbling toward her. You dropped to your knees, pulling her into a tight embrace. She clung to you like a lifeline, her body trembling against yours.

The two of you stayed huddled together, finding solace in each other’s presence, until Gi-hun’s voice called out again.

“It’s safe to come out now.”

When everyone was told to gather in the middle of the room, you lingered, pretending to adjust your shoes. Jun-hee gave you a worried glance, but you waved her off with a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right there. Just... something I need to do.”

She hesitated before nodding, her small frame disappearing into the growing crowd.

Your heart raced as you scanned the room, the chaos of bloodied survivors and flickering lights making it harder to find him. But then you saw him—a familiar silhouette, half-hidden in the shadows of a secluded corner.

In-ho.

He was focused, his movements precise as he disarmed a fallen attacker, slipping the weapon into his grasp. His stoic expression didn’t falter as he worked. Even now, in the aftermath of chaos, he was calculating, steadfast, and unshaken.

Your breath hitched. You knew this wasn’t necessary. You knew you should be with the others in the middle of the room like you’d been instructed. But the ache in your chest, the fear gnawing at your sanity, pushed you forward. You couldn’t leave without speaking to him—without feeling the warmth of his presence one last time.

When you spotted him in a secluded corner, hunched over a stash of weapons he was collecting from fallen players, your resolve solidified. Silently, you crossed the chaotic room, weaving past overturned beds and scattered bodies. Your heart thundered in your chest, not from fear, but from the weight of what you needed to say.

Without a second thought, you ran towards him, your steps quick and silent. When you reached him, you didn’t wait for him to notice you. You immediately threw yourself into his arms, catching him off guard.

“[Name]!” he gasped, his voice sharp with surprise as he caught you. He always caught you. His hands steadied you automatically, even as confusion flashed across his face. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be with the others. It’s not—”

Before he could finish, you cupped his face and kissed him deeply. The movement was so sudden, so full of everything you’d kept locked away, that it caught him off guard. He froze, his lips still against yours, the cold metal of the gun slipping from his grip and hitting the floor with a dull thud.

For a moment, he didn’t respond, and you thought your heart might shatter. Then, slowly, almost hesitantly, he kissed you back. His hands moved to your waist, holding you as though you might slip away if he let go. The kiss deepened, his lips trembling against yours, and you could feel the war inside him—the pull of his duty against the part of him that wanted to stay here forever.

His lips moved against yours, his hands gripping your waist as though anchoring himself to you. The kiss was messy, desperate, and full of everything you couldn’t say out loud.

When you finally pulled away, your breath mingling with his, your voice broke. “In-ho…” You could barely get his name out.

“[Name],” he murmured, his voice low and trembling. “You shouldn’t be here, you know that.”

“I don’t care.” You gripped the front of his jacket, your tears spilling freely now. “I don’t care about any of that. I needed to see you. I needed to know you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” he said, but his voice cracked, betraying the lie. His hands shook where they rested on your waist. “But you—you need to go back. You need to stay safe. I can’t…” He trailed off, his eyes darting away, as if meeting your gaze might break him completely.

“In-ho,” you choked out, clutching his jacket tightly. “Won’t you stay, In-ho? For me?” your voice crackled with desperation.

His breath hitched, and he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. For a second, you thought he might say yes. But then, his face crumpled, and he shook his head. “I can’t,” he said, his voice breaking. “I want to—I want to so badly. But I can’t. I have to help them, [Name]. I have to make sure they have a chance.”

You tried to hold back the tears, tried to be strong for him, but the floodgates opened anyway. A sob tore from your throat as you buried your face against his chest. His arms wrapped around you fully now, steady and grounding, even as your world fell apart.

Of course, this was In-ho. The one who always puts others before himself. The one who bore every burden silently, who carried the weight of guilt and responsibility like it was the only thing keeping him alive. This was In-ho—your In-ho. The man who had always been so much more than you deserved.

And yet, even if it hurt, you loved him for it. You always would.

“What about me?” you whispered, tears streaming freely down your face. “What about us? Don’t we matter?”

His hands came up to cradle your face, his thumbs wiping away your tears even as his own filled his eyes. “You matter,” he said, his voice trembling. “You’ve always mattered. More than anything. More than anyone. But if I don’t do this… none of us will make it out of here.”

“In-ho…” Your voice broke, and he pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

“I’ll come back,” he whispered into your hair, his voice unsteady but full of resolve. “I swear, I’ll come back to you.”

“Please,” you choked out, clinging to him like your life depended on it. “Please, In-ho, don’t make me lose you again. I can’t—I can’t do this… not without you.”

“You won’t lose me,” he said, though the tremor in his voice betrayed his own uncertainty. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering there as if trying to memorize the feel of you. “I’ll come back. I promise.”

Deep down, you both knew his promise was a fragile thing, held together by hope.

He leaned down, his hands trembling as they cupped your face. His lips met yours once more, this time in a lingering kiss, slow and deep, filled with everything he couldn’t bring himself to say. For a brief moment, the world seemed to pause. The chaos around you faded into a distant hum, and the weight of the moment lightened just enough for you to feel the depth of his love. A love as desperate and fleeting as the seconds you shared.

When he pulled away, his lips brushed against your forehead, a soft sigh escaping him as if the kiss had stolen the last of his strength. “I’ll be extra safe,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, though his eyes betrayed the agony tearing him apart. “I promise, [Name].”

The promise felt hollow, like a brittle shell barely holding together.

You nodded weakly, though every fiber of your being screamed at you to pull him close, to make him stay. But you knew. You knew who he was—knew that In-ho was the kind of man who always put others first, and there was nothing you could say or do to change that.

“I’ll come back to you,” he said, and the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips, as if he were trying to convince himself as much as you. “You have to believe that.”

Your voice wavered as you whispered, “I believe you, In-ho.” But the ache in your chest said otherwise.

He took a step back, his hands lingering on your arms before they fell away entirely. The warmth of his touch disappeared as he turned, moving toward the shadows with quiet determination.

Your heart shattered as you stood there, frozen in place, watching him walk away. It felt like every part of you was being ripped apart, your chest heaving with silent sobs. You wanted to scream his name, to demand he turn around, to beg him not to go. But the words caught in your throat, strangled by the raw, suffocating pain of letting him go.

As his figure grew smaller and smaller, the reality of what just happened sank in. The promise he made, the kiss he gave, the pain in his eyes—they all felt like goodbyes masquerading as hope.

As the silence closed in, the thought struck you with brutal clarity. This was the last time you would ever see him.

And it broke you, how painfully right you were.

[siren-serenity]

you're so in love

characters: portgas d. ace, gn!reader, marco the phoenix (cameo??) warnings: fluff (takes place before SPOILER: teach's betrayal), reader is slightly drunk in the last prompt but there's no violence, ace calls reader "babe" but in a genderneutral way, slight swearing a/n: - these prompts were from @novelbear!! felt a bit of writer's block so i decided to do some :)) tysm bae! - PRETTY SURE I FAILED MY MATH EXAM BUT THATS OKAY - honorary tag for my wifey -> @officialdaydreamer00 - feedback is appreciated!

gently resting their head on their shoulder when peeking at something

scratch scratch ace woke up to the sound of a pen scratching onto paper. with a groan, he slowly sat up from the bed and rubbed at his eyes. his vision looked like a blur of colors but he only focused on you. the color of his "rare" shirts on your body made you seem like a blob of red because of how big it was and ace couldn't hold back the soft smile growing. he shuffled across the bed quietly but you whirled around, eyes widened. he froze like a deer in headlights, hands pressing onto the bed and his butt raised to scoot over. you chuckled. he flopped onto the bed and laughed aloud. "mornin' love," ace crawled towards you before resting his head on your lap. he burrowed himself in your scent and he felt the drowsiness come back again. he yawned. "welp- good night." you let out another small laugh before letting a small hand rest on his chest; a small finger traced the grooves of his abs and he jerked from the ticklish sensation. he quickly put your hand on his hair and moved it around to indicate that yes: portgas d ace, feared second division commander of the whitebeard pirates, wanted head pats and head rubs from his lover. he felt your fingers run through his messy hair and ace groaned from the soothing feeling. he pressed his head further into your lap, blinking slowly one last time before sighing in bliss. 'yes,' ace thought to himself before falling asleep with a drowsy smile. 'this is undoubtly heaven.' you continued to run a hand through his hair, using your other hand to finish ace's stack of paperworks.

always giving the other the first bite of their food

"say ahhh," ace playfully crooned, holding up a spoon with...something on it. you eyed him warily. both of you were wandering the streets of one of the islands under whitebeard's protection, having taken the opportunity for a long, overdue date. it was hard for ace to keep his hands off you (he loved PDA and loved seeing his brothers grimace at him) so the moment the moby dick docked, he threw some clothes at you and him before dragging you to the festival. and here you were, hand in hand and wandering the busy marketplace. although... you hummed, eyes trailing up and down ace's body. the clothes he threw were borrowed from marco, given that ace rarely had any shirts of his own (you appreciated the view of his glistening abs and his broad shoulders-) and the colors complimented him well. as if reading your thoughts, ace leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "you know, you can take this off me later," he murmured and you laughed at his thoughts. "how did you know i was thinking of that?" he raised an eyebrow before lifting up the bottom of his shirt to reveal his abs and his v-line. you spluttered, quickly snatching his hand and making him drop the shirt. that sight was for you, and you only. "seriously? tell me your eyes weren't trying to rip this shirt off." "pft-" you chuckled into a fist before finally taking a bite of his snack. it was a wafer ice cream sandwich and you smiled in delight. it was delicious! ace smiled before gesturing to the corner of his lips. when you failed to get the crumbs of wafer off you, he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. the ice cream was quickly forgotten as you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and pressing your bodies together.

absentmindedly playing with their hair at all times

"aceeeee," you whined, slurring your words slightly. you reached out for ace, who enveloped you in a one-armed hug and pressed a kiss to your forehead. you stared at him through your eyelashes for so long, ace looked at you with concern. "babe?" "ace," you stated, a serious look on your face. the other commanders stifled a laugh. "has anyone told you that you're hot?" "yes?" ace twirled a lock of your hair around his finger absentmindedly. he raised an eyebrow in confusion. "i ate the mera mera no mi, remember? " you shook your head, cheeks flushed with alcohol. "no, like really. you're really, really hot. smoking hot. burning hot. fiery hot. fried barbeque kinda hot-" marco swooped in, dragging you backward and a sharp hiss tore from your lips. ace's eyes widened as he quickly unwrapped your hair from his fingers. "shit- sorry love!" "charred black kinda hot, like super hot? marc, have you seen my boyfriend?" you gripped marco's shoulders with desperation, eyes wide. ace almost choked on his next gulp of rum; he's praying for you now. marco never lets anybody get away with that."he's totally beyond cute. he's super caring and nice and sweet and-" the first division commander rolled his eyes. "yes, yes, or so i've heard. [name], you're so drunk." "drunk and in love!" you singsonged before leaping into ace's embrace again. ace's fingers threaded through your hair as he adjusted his position so he was sitting comfortably and you were burrowed into his side. you popped a kiss onto his cheek before humming. "in love with portgas d ace!!" ace's cheeks were flushed red, but not because of the alcohol. his vision was definitely blurred though and a small tear welled up. "l-love you too," he choked out. if his grip around your waist was tighter after that statement, you didn't mention it.

[day-drawn-blog]

Part IV: There is more to do and I still want to live

Pairing: Astarion x Reader -- This is set in Act I

Part IV - LOTS of angst and sadness and jealousy and fluff.

Tags: angst, fluff, sadness, angst, fluff, then maybe eventually smut because I do love that

Part I. Crowned light moon of mine - I found you too soon

Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

Part III : maybe tonight I'll rest in peace

Part V: our futures bound, our bodies known

Part VI : these ain't my sins, I' broke my chains

Part VII: You are not mine and am I truly yours?

Part VIII: your blood like wine, invites me in

Part IX: I'll welcome my sentence and give you my penance

Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die

----------

The next morning you woke up. It took you a while to remember last night. You gasped and turned around. Your bed was empty. You were the only one. Your nocturnal visitor had vanished into the night air. Was he even there last night, or did you dream it all? Somewhere in the corner of your turbulent heart, you knew, he had gone back to his paramour. Which was not you. Before the pain of that thought drove you mad, you decided to distract yourself. After all, he never made any promises to you.

Time to get on with it.

The day was weary. You were finding it increasingly difficult to ignore the air between Shadowheart and Astarion. Every glance they shared, every smile was laced with poison for you. You prayed and hoped this would pass. You were the hero. You were the one who would lead them to safety, to the end of this perilous journey. It was a quest for salvation for all of you. And then you were all ambushed.

Time to focus on violence.

That should get your mind off of them. Except, Shadowheart was cornered, and while Astarion was supposed to target another, he defied the plan - to shoot at her attacker leaving himself open to a powerful spell that inflicted several wounds on him. He fell from his station. Drops of his blood splattered on Shadowheart's pale pretty face, down from where he stood.

Your heart had stopped.

Shadowheart shrieked, naturally to see him in pain so. Instantly she cast Santuary on him and incinerated the enemy with her radiance spell. You could feel her vengeance in the intensity with which she cast her spell. They then proceeded to embrace each other, her trying to heal him, and him finding solace in her arms.

You felt your world go blank.

Was there really a point to any of this? What was it, again. Your vision blurry, everything seemed to have slowed down. Or maybe just you. Karlach and Wyll were nearby. Flashes of spells and clash of swords. That's all you heard. Reckless abandon. That is what you wanted to feel. To make it worth something. To be seen, maybe. To be valued, to be needed. Or not be needed at all.

You cared not for your spell magic. It was time to feel the rage delivered through your own hands. Slashing, kicking, swinging your pact weapon. The feel of hitting a mortal enemy, splattering of blood around you. you could hear Karlach yell. Why? Oh, is that blood? Is that yours? Somebody bludgeoned you. Because being able to hit, meant being able to take a hit. Another punch to your face. This one you felt. You lost your footing.

This was fun.

Bring it on. See what I got. I will give it back to you. I have seen worse. I have felt worse. I have nothing more to lose. I will take you down with me. That's what raced through your mind. You hit harder, faster and with more venom than before. Killing with your own hands. You never enjoyed it before. Where is this rage coming from. You were no barbarian. You could feel the Hellish Rebuke coursing through your own body. you hit. And was hit back. Thrown back. Several times you landed on the floor. And got back up.

And then you felt hot. Warm. You had been hit with a fire spell.

You heard Wyll yell out. You could feel Karlach going into Rage. You knew the battle was won. You smiled, and you fell. For the last time that day. The last thing you remember seeing was Karlach cradling you, and Astarion running towards you from the distance. You couldn't make out what his face looked like. "Serves you right. Watch your only source of food disappear." you thought. You smiled, even if you were in pain.

The next thing you remember is Karlach nursing you in your tent.

Everything hurt. Pain all over. Wrapped in badages all over. You wondered what went down after your...recklessness. Karlach seemed really sad. Worried. "Thank the gods you are awake! What were you thinking?!" You smiled weakly. "Laezel has been going on and on about how impressed she was with your battle field prowess. "Ah.. Laezel, she would be...I'm glad".

After much fussing by Karlach, and Gale, and Shadowheart and basically everyone, who came to express their concern and relief or awe in your battle prowess or chastise you for your recklessness, you were relieved to get some quiet time. In which you wondered, where was the man, who mattered the most.

Typical. A vampire, only thinks of himself. and then suddenly, you remembered the look of pure horror on his face as you blacked out. But was he impressed? Was he worried? Did you get, ....his attention at last? You needed to know, if you were seen, at last.

If you mattered. To him. At all.

You decided to trudge outside in the cool night air. Everyone was finally asleep from all the exhaustion. It was a clear sky. Perhaps it is a great time to find a nice little piece of nature all to yourself. To take in the solitude.

You walked, slowly in the quiet night.

A little away from camp, you saw a shadowy figure. Almost predatory, walking towards you. Unmistakable.

So there he was.

He wasn't with shadowheart tonight? Maybe he had gone to hunt since, you weren't available. Your heart skipped a beat. There he was, out hunting. Was he scared he almost lost you? Was he finally worried about you? You wondered how the conversation would go. You had no idea why you did what you did, nor how he would react. You braced yourself.

But he said nothing at all.

He approached you. His face shone briefly in the moonlight. His eyes were cold. His shoulders brushed yours but he didn't stop. His glance was smouldering. Steely. But he said not a word and walked straight past.

You watched his back, through the light and darkness. Wait. You wanted to know, what he felt... "Are, you ... okay, Astarion? I saw you getting hurt earlier." Silence. Then he stopped and turned. You could hear your heart beat.

"Me? I am very glad to be alive you see. I do not want to just, end it all. Despite what my life has been so far, I still want to live." he looked at you with disdain.

You were taken aback.

You had been chastised by Wyll and to some extend Shadowheart, for your recklessness. But why did this one, cut through your heart?

"That's not... what I was ... "

But, is that what you were doing? Or is that what he thinks you were doing. Either way, you felt, ashamed. You would surely never. You had promised to be the Hero and Savior to others who needed saving. You wanted to love those that needed it. No. He was not right. It was not true. You won't let it be true.

You found your voice.

"Is that what you think I was doing? ha. I bet you got all worried, thinking your only source of higher blood would disappear. isn't it?" Your voice was laced with bitterness.

"And is that what you think of me?" His face was in the shadows. You could not see the glare in his eyes, but you could feel the disdain in his voice. "Well, in that case, maybe it is time for our nightly trysts to come to an end".

No. I didn't mean that.

You felt gripped by a sudden fear. No. Do not cast me aside. That is my only use to you. Do not take that away from me too. Please. That is not what I meant or wanted. That is the only time you look at me. You know of my existence. Only way I am needed by you. Only time I am wanted by you. No. You could feel tears choking you.

You couldn't speak. So he turned and resumed walking back to camp.

You turned too and then you broke down. You could not stop your tears. You felt so sorry. So very sorry for yourself. You almost lost yourself today, for this man. Why? Did you just want to be seen that badly. Only to be thrown away entirely. You watched the tears drop on your hands, and you knelt on the ground with your hands propping you up. Nothing you did would ever matter.

This was the bitter truth you so desperately wanted to deny. You never mattered to begin with. You were nobody to him. And you almost died for him. How could you hate yourself so much? Why would you not value yourself. Was he worth all that? You will never be Shadowheart. For it is she, who was in his heart and mind. You were just a convenient transaction.

You felt warm hands, from behind.

Hands that held you up. As you cried your eyes out. You were held in an tight embrace. As if the person wanted to take all your pain away. The harder your cried, the tighter you were embraced. You were found, by someone. Someone was there. Someone cared. That's all that mattered to you at that instant. You didn't care who it was. You were grateful it was...someone. You absorbed all the warmth in their body, and you felt the support of their broad chest against your back, as they buried their face in your neck from behind.

You felt his soft caress on your neck.

You felt so happy, that you started crying even more. You felt eternal bliss, you felt cared for, seen and you felt loved. You felt wanted. Your yearnings, came rushing out in salted tears. You wanted to laugh and smile, but you cried instead. Tears of joy, if only you could tell him that.

"I am sorry. I did not know. I am sorry. What can I do. How can I help you, please tell me a way." he whispered. "I cannot see you like this. I need you. Yes I need you. But not for your blood. You are our salvation. You protect us. From our personal demons. And in Wyll's case, quite literally".

You finally laughed a little.

He loosened his grasp a bit at that. Realizing, that the worst may have passed. but he did not let go entirely. Still resting his head next to you, kneeling on the ground with you, he held on. "I will one day, somehow, give you a reason to live on. Something you will want to hold on to. I promise you. Can't you wait a little bit. I don't know what that is yet. But you have my word".

Those were the last words you heard that night.

Because your pain and exhaustion and happiness came crashing on you at once. You felt your consciousness slip away. You felt swpt up, carried. You heard Karlach on the way. "What did you do to her Astarion! You better not have hurt her! she was already in bad shape. Did you make her cry?! Why are her eyes so swollen?" You drifted to a very sweet dream that night. Content somehow.

Part V: our futures bound, our bodies known

[whalyrae]

THE OLD GUARD CHAPTER 2

"We don’t get a say on how it ends, we never have. But we can control how we live."

Summary : You are a powerful witch, cursed and hurt through ages. Owner of your esoteric shop, you were resigned to live this lonely life when the powerful magic of soulmates and fate came to you.

Pairing : poly BTS x reader (she/her)

Genre : soulmate au, demons bts au, witch y/n au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, polyamory relationships

Status : In process

Word Count : 4.3k

Warnings : eventual smut, angst, mention of depression, death, suicide, past trauma, violence, blood, past (sexual) abuse, past torture, PTSD, scars, self harm, and more.

Tag list :  @blackrockshooter780 @babyymeme @starrlo0ver @suckerforv @mushroom-main @m1sss1mp @prettydancingdamzel

A/N : IT'S HERE !! The big one.... Took so much time to write this part... Unlike Dance With me, the chapters here are longer, and will therefore take longer to be published. I like to take my time writing… plus with my adhd it's hard sometimes to stay focused especially since I have my finals coming up soon and I have to study… AND I have a lot of mental breakdowns where I want to delete everything because I have no confidence in myself and my writing skills LOL

Ah, thank you so so much for all the loves you give with this story with all the likes and the shares and the comments ! Love y'all ♥

Masterlist | ao3 | wattpad

Chapter 1 // Chapter 3

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

When Namjoon returned home, saying he was ecstatic was a euphemism. He’d finally found her. Their last soul mate. After all these years. He met her by accident in a shop that his friend had recommended to him. What was the probability? Shit, he should thank Bangchan properly. He will be eternally grateful to him. 

But her reactions when they met worried him. Something happened to her. Something that frightened her at the thought of bonding with her soulmates. They needed to know everything about her. Her past, her wounds, her fears, so that Namjoon and his other soulmates could help her. He wanted nothing more than for them all to be together, as they always wanted, as they always talked about.

They all had so many exciting projects to do. But they always waited, they didn't want to do anything until they were all together.

The time has come. Finally. 

But to do all of that, he needed to tell them about her.

He slammed the door so hard that he woke up the black cat and Hoseok who were both sleeping peacefully on the sofa. 

“Sorry hyungs,” he apologized before taking off his jacket, “I have something really, really important to tell you and…-”

Namjoon, what’s that smell? 

Yoongi’s voice echoed in Namjoon’s and Hoseok’s head. Namjoon wasn’t surprised he already noticed it. In his cat form, his hyung’s senses were sharper. Hoseok frowned and came near his boyfriend to smell him. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to meet his partners. Her sweet vanilla scent was still barely on him, but enough for demons like his boyfriends to notice it. 

“Joonie, you’re finally back! Oh, something happened, Hobi? You should see your face! ” 

Jungkook appeared behind Hoseok, giving him a back hug while his head rested on his shoulder. The others joined them quickly. Everyone was there for Namjoon’s relief. On the way back to their home, he was afraid that the maknaes had decided to go out on the town as they used to do.

But unlike Hoseok and Yoongi, they didn’t seem to notice her smell on him. 

Fuck, he didn’t even know how to tell them. Why was he so nervous? They all waited for that day. 

But he couldn’t forget how she acted towards him. When their eyes finally met each other, how was her reaction during their handshake. The way she read the part of the book, the tears she had held back. 

She didn’t reject him though, he was sure of that. 

“Is everything okay? Oh… you smell really good, is that a new perfume ?” 

He shook his head at Jin's question. Namjoon noticed the oldest’s face changed quickly. Jin was confused in some way Namjoon didn’t understand. He, too, must have wondered where that sweet smell Namjoon had on him came from. 

He looked at each of his boyfriends and took a deep breath before finally saying the words that would change their lives forever.  

“I met our last soulmate.”

The room remained quiet for long seconds. He noticed that Yoongi had returned to his human form, and had the same look as his boyfriends.

Suddenly, they all started asking Namjoon questions. Who’s this person? What’s their name? Was the vanilla smell theirs? Was Namjoon sure they were their last soulmate? If so, why didn't he bring them here? 

The only one who stayed calm was Jin. He was standing behind Namjoon, staring at him in a somewhat strange kind of way that Yoongi had noticed. But he said nothing. He probably had to absorb the information too. 

“Okay, okay, can y’all please stop talking at the same time ?” Namjoon finally asked. 

“But hyung, I want to meet them !” Jimin whined.

“Me too, it’s not fair you’re the only one who’s got the chance to talk to them !” Taehyung added with a pout.

“Tell us where you met them, please! At their work? Or maybe in a library? You like to visit libraries after all! ” Jungkook asked beside him, clinging to his arm. His big brown eyes shone with impatience and excitement. 

Namjoon pinched his nose and sighed. These were exactly the reactions he had expected. Especially from the three youngest. Well, he couldn’t blame them for that. If he were them, he’d react the same way. 

Jin, Hoseok, and Yoongi were calmer, but he knew they were burning with impatience and even envy towards him for meeting her first, and especially for being the only one to know her, for now. He couldn't be upset with them for being so impatient, he'd probably have reacted the same way if he'd been in their situation... 

“Okay guys,” Jin finally spoke, in a strangely calm voice, and wrapped his arms around Taehyung and Jimin’s waist, “Maybe we can let Joon explain to us… right? I’ll make some coffee and tea for everyone. ” 

He separated from his two boyfriends and disappeared into the kitchen before receiving any response. On the one hand, because he didn't need to wait for answers, he already knew what each of them would drink. But also because the second the smell of vanilla had reached him, a sudden headache had taken over him. 

Now alone, he had leaned against the work surface and closed his eyes. His face suddenly tensed. 

Flashbacks invaded his mind. 

He couldn’t recognize or remember the place, the situation, or the person he was with. They were faceless. He couldn’t tell which one of his soulmates he was with. Or was it none of them? But if so, who was it? 

What were these memories? He didn’t even remember living any of them. Were these memories even his own?

“Jin, are you okay? ”

He jump-started when he heard the voice of Yoongi behind him. The second oldest had noticed the suddenly strange attitude of his elder. 

“Yeah, just a headache, nothing serious, don’t worry.” 

Jin smiled to reassure him, but Yoongi wasn’t naive. He came closer to him and put his hand on his forehead. 

“I’m a demon, Yoongs,” he added in a more serious tone and gently grabbed his hand, “I can’t be sick like humans.”

“Then why do you have a headache? Hm? You never had any before now. It oddly coincides with Joon’s arrival and this… sweet and delicious vanilla scent he had on him.” 

He caught a whiff of that wonderful smell on Namjoon, even though it was already very faint. He also hadn’t understood that these sudden flashbacks probably had something to do with that aroma. 

Of course not, he couldn't make that connection. He had never smelled that scent before. 

Or so he thought. 

Jin frowned a little and shook his head, walking away from Yoongi to prepare the drinks. 

“I’m fine Yoongi, I promise.”

Yoongi did not believe him, his senses told him not to. Jin and him were the first two to meet. They were together for several years before their paths crossed with Namjoon and Hoseok. The three younger ones were the last to arrive, decades ago. 

He knew his elder very well. He knew something was up, something probably related to their last soulmate, which they had all been looking for and waiting for all these years. 

Jin said nothing when he saw Yoongi join him to help. But Yoongi couldn’t deny that he, too, felt rather strange at the thought of Namjoon meeting their soulmate. A mixed feeling of excitement, and impatience but also stress and apprehension when he saw Namjoon's serious and worried face. He thought to himself that the same was probably true for Jin and that he was perhaps worrying a little too much. 

Yoongi also thought he should check things out on his own, one way or another. 

Several minutes later, the two boys were back in the living room. Everyone was settled in front of Namjoon and impatient while he was still standing, and nervous as he fidgeted with his fingers, which everyone quickly noticed. 

“Okay,” Namjoon took a deep breath, and ran his hand through his hair, “please, let me finish before asking any questions, because we’ll need to find something to help her.”

°°°

After her breakdown in her apartment, Handong and Gahyeon took her to theirs, not really far away from her home. where the other girls were waiting for her with blankets and food. But she didn't eat anything. The pain and sadness were so big and intense that her stomach was in knots. The thought of eating any kind of food made her feel nauseous. Her head hurts from crying so much.

She was silent at first, but finally, she started to speak and told them everything. Her meeting with Namjoon, how sweet and kind he was towards her, what she felt, the connection that people experienced with the person or people were meant to be with.

A soulmate connection.

All the girls were seated around her. They listened carefully. Bora and Gahyeon were at her sides while the others were in front of her, two on the small coffee table, the three others sitting on the floor.

After that, Siyeon asked her in a soft and calm voice why she reacted like that. Siyeon and the others thought she would be happy to finally meet her soulmate, especially since she also told them that Namjoon and her were linked to six other people, people that Namjoon already knew, making her the last person missing from the bond.

And there’s the moment when she felt tears appear again. The truth was that Namjoon wasn’t the first one she met. Gahyeon remembered her whispering a name when she broke down in her arms. A man named Jin. Who was he? Someone she loved, and who wasn’t her soulmate?

“No, absolutely not,” she answered to Gahyeon when she asked her, “Jin is… one of my soulmates too…”

She took a deep breath. She didn’t want to cry again. She was tired of crying.

She felt Bora’s head leaning on her shoulder and hugging her tightly.

“Can you tell us what happened, unnie ?” she asked in a calm and sweet voice.

Her heart ached for all the memories she had buried inside her to suddenly return. Bright memories, where Jin and she were together, happy and eager to meet their other soul mates. But also, when they had been forced to be separated, when he lost his memory when they had not been strong enough to protect each other. When she was imprisoned by those humans, accused of being a witch, and sentenced to death. How she survived, marking the beginning of her immortality, and escaped to them, and all those hurting centuries she passed alone.

She let out a sigh and finally nodded. She trusted them, they never judged her, and they were always gentle, and understanding. Gahyeon and Handong did not hesitate to come to her house after her message at almost midnight because she needed them. They were the kind of people you only met once in your life. They were true friends.

More than that, she saw them as little sisters.

She could open up to them, she could trust them, about her past, what happened with Jin, how she lost him, and most importantly, why she spent most of her life alone, surviving instead of living.

°°°

“ No! That’s not fair! It wasn’t your fault! ” Gahyeon shouted suddenly.

She stood up, angry and nearly crying, Minji joined her and gave her a comforting hug. She had just finished her story. It has been so long since she talked about it...

Bringing up all her memories was painful, but at the same time, it felt quite good to finally be able to share her pain and sorrow with them. Yoohyeon took Gahyeon's place, taking her hand in hers.

“ She’s right y/n, Why do you blame yourself? You and Jin... you were just victims! ”

“Is there anything you can do to restore his memory ?” Siyeon asked.

“Memory magic is… complex but also very powerful.” she started to explain, playing nervously with her fingers, “Brain and memory have always been a very mysterious subject, and even after all these centuries of studying it… medicine and neuroscience, for human or not, have never managed to unlock all its secrets. He's a demon, like most of you, but your brain is relatively the same as a human's… ”

She shook her head.

“Besides that, we got separated, and after I escaped from those humans, he was gone. I looked for him. I traveled the world, in vain. I never knew where he was. Was he back in the demon realm? I never knew, I tried to summon him, to invoke him, again and again, in vain. He never came to me, and I never knew why... ”

Demons could live freely in the human world if they wanted to. Otherwise, most of them lived in another world, outside time and space, parallel to where they lived now. A world where only demons could enter and leave at their will.

She sighed. She felt tears welling up again, which made her let out a swear.

“We were young and stupid, we didn’t want to waste our time with those stories of invocations and everything…”

“But now, you know where he is, you can see him again !” Yubin suddenly exclaimed, “I’m sure he hasn't forgotten you! Well, maybe for now, but the moment he sees you, all the memories will come back! He's your soul mate y/n, damn it! ”

She looked up at her and sighed again before standing up. She walked to the window and looked through it. The moon was almost full in three days.

“I’m…,” she began, her voice shaking, and she took a deep breath, “I’m scared to face him again, to face all of them. And what if he never remembers me? What if they don’t want me because of that ?”

She bites her lips. Damn it, her heart was beating faster, and not in a good way.

“And what if… she’s still alive? What if she’s still after him and she finds out that I'm still alive, and that I've found him? She could still go after him, or even our other soulmates, and even though I'm more powerful than before, she has become more powerful too… but on the other hand…,” she turned to her friends, and despite the smile on her lips, tears were running down her cheeks, “I want to see him, I want to meet them…”

Those words she just said out loud, she hasn't controlled them. They came out of her lips without her controlling it,

When she met Namjoon, a few hours earlier, her reactions towards him were more about surprise and shock at finding another soul mate. Especially since she had immediately sensed that Jin was there too.

All those memories, all those traumas, and all the things she experienced and had buried inside her were suddenly brought up, causing a surge of panic and anxiety.

But now that she had been able to confide in her friends, to talk about it, to hear their advice and support, she was able to put her thoughts in order.

Okay, learning from one day to the next that she had met not only her soul mate but also the other six, one of whom was her first love lost dramatically was something quite... sudden and abrupt.

After Jin, she never had a love affair and never fell in love again. Of course not, how could she?

Now, the idea of seeing him again, of meeting these six other people who were related to her, too, but who had also taken care of him for… she didn't even know how long...

She didn’t even want to hear the word “soulmate” or anything related to love and bonding. Because she would have felt like she was betraying Jin. She couldn't even imagine being happy with a soulmate or soulmates without him.

“You deserve it,” Minji suddenly said, pulling her out of her reverie, and gently placed her hand on her shoulder, a gentle smile on her lips, “you deserve it more than anyone else. You spent your whole life helping anyone who asks for help, sacrificing your life more than once - literally - for the helping and saving. You deserve to be happy, with those who are destined for you. And I'm sure they too have been waiting for you and are looking forward to meeting you, and to being reunited with Jin.”

She winked at her and wiped her cheeks wet with tears.

“And about this demon bitch,” Yubin continued, making a fireball appear in her hand with a fake smile, “She can come and try if she wants!”

“Yeah! We’re waiting for her! ” Gahyeon added.

Her lips stretched into a slight smile. Things were different than they had been centuries ago.

She was older, more mature, more powerful.

After all these years, decades, and centuries spent alone, hope was finally awakening in her. Hope for a better future, where loneliness would no longer exist.

“Oh girls, wait a minute !” Gahyeon suddenly shouted, “How will she meet them? Namjoon has left his shop and they have not exchanged any contacts!”

“Oh, you know for that, I’m not worried.” Handong replied with a smirk, “He knows where she works. I can bet anything you want that at least one of them will visit her very, very soon.”

°°°

Handong was right, but she didn't know it yet, or at least she didn't believe it.

She wouldn't think that Namjoon would talk about her as soon as he returned home to his... no, to their soulmates.

But he did.

He even specifically asked his partners not to rush to see her. They had to come up with a plan to approach her, enter her life, and bring her into theirs, being attentive to her inner wounds.

He thought he had convinced them. Or so he thought.

The day after she met Namjoon, at dawn, she left her friends' apartment and returned to hers. It had been a short night and she talked a lot. After she confessed, Minji and Yoohyeon convinced her to eat. She then fell asleep against Gahyeon, lulled by their conversations about random things, she didn't even remember them.

She was exhausted. But she had a business to run. There was also the possibility of creatures needing her help. The full moon was coming up in a few days, and she knew that at this time of year, werewolves often accidentally hurt themselves.

She also needed to focus her mind on something else, only for a few hours.

And anyway, she had no information. She didn't know where Jin, Namjoon, and her other soulmates lived, whom she didn't even know yet. 

And then, let's imagine she found herself facing Jin., what would she do? He wouldn't even recognize her. He would see her crying and not even understand why.

She might be his soul mate, but to him, she was yet a stranger.

Maybe it was better if she didn't see them again. Maybe Namjoon would never talk about her after their catastrophic first meeting yesterday, and go on with his life as if nothing had ever happened. Maybe that was the only way.

She sighed and left her apartment after taking a quick shower and changing her clothes. She walked down the stairs to her bookstore and turned the sign to announce that it was officially open.

She had done what she did every day: arranged and dusted the books on the shelves, correctly tidied and cleaned the various crystals, watered her plants, collected the petals and fruit from some of them, dried them for later, and made them into ingredients for future potions or spells and finally, swept the bookshop.

Her day was like any other, except maybe she was more clumsy than usual. She would have liked to blame it on tiredness, but she knew very well that it wasn't because of that.

A dark spot outside caught her eye. In front of one of the windows, sitting and staring into her bookstore, a cat.

Oh, it wasn't just any cat. It was much bigger than the cats she was used to seeing. It was also more graceful and probably the most beautiful black cat she had ever seen in her life.

She was completely mesmerized by this cat, so much so that she put her ballet down against her counter and approached the door she had opened.

She was used to this kind of situation. Stray cats often came to visit her. She got into the habit of feeding them, giving them water, and even healing them if they arrived injured, which, fortunately, was much rarer.

"Hey kitty," she murmured in a soft voice, a little smile on her face, “are you hungry? or thirsty? come in, I'll take care of you.”

She didn't dare approach the cat, she didn't know if he was afraid and would run away if she tried to touch him, or even be aggressive. She didn't want him to go away either, strangely though. She didn't want to be alone.

So she walked away from him, leaving the door open behind her, and went into the back room to get a bowl and a bottle of water.

When she came back, the cat was not only in the bookstore, but he was sitting on the counter. He was seated with his back straight, his dark eyes staring at her intensely.

She didn't know why, but she suddenly felt intimidated by this cat.

She approached him, and put down the bowl to fill it with water. She then walked away to put the ballet away.

And then the truth hit her.

He couldn't be a real cat. Well, yes, of course, it was a cat. But she felt something coming out of him, something magical and mystical.

Something supernatural. Like a shape-shifter.

She turned her head towards him, silently observing the animal that lapped up the water with an almost disconcerting slowness and tranquility.

She took a long breath and the cat raised his head, hearing her, and ran his tongue over his lips, his eyes resting on her.

That deep, dark look. No, even if she was exhausted, it couldn't be the look of a simple cat. Her witch senses were tingling, she couldn't ignore them. She had crossed paths with many shape-shifters in her life, she knew the signs. 

“I know you’re not an ordinary cat,” she finally said to him with a soft, non-accusatory voice, sitting in her chair in front of him, “I’m a witch, a very, very old witch to be honest, you’re not the first metamorph I met,” she adds with a small laugh. 

The cat’s ears bent slightly at the sound of her voice, he blinked slowly, without taking his eyes off her. 

“Are you stuck in your animal form?” She asks, resting her chin on the palm of her hand, “I can help you.”

It took only a few seconds before the cat came a little closer to her. 

Namjoon was right, our new soul mate is a person with a big heart and breathtaking beauty. 

A deep, raspy, and seductive voice echoed in her head. She frowned, slightly confused, as she looked around. Eventually, she realized where the voice was coming from. 

Wait. He said Namjoon's name, didn't he? It can't be... 

Did you genuinely think he wouldn't tell us about you and your first meeting? Come on, sweetheart, we've been waiting for you for so long. 

She took one step back, and another. Honestly, yes, she thought he wouldn't talk about her. 

She couldn't deny that his last words warmed her heart. So, had they been looking for her, too? 

He also asked us to wait…

He continued, turning his back on her to jump off the counter.

I mean, before coming to meet you. But I am his elder after all, why should I obey him? I love Namjoon with all my soul, but he asks too much from us when it’s about you, our precious and pretty soul mate. 

She heard him chuckle and looked down at him. She breathed deeply. She breathed in, and out, slowly. She was trying to calm the rhythm of her heart which was fast, too fast. 

Ah, maybe it's talking to a cat that disturbs you and makes you speechless? You knew from the beginning that I was a shapeshifter, didn't you? 

She shook her head slightly to recover her senses. 

“Not really, I thought you were a real cat at first” she admits, “and no, it’s not the first time I’m talking to a metamorph and... even if I did, it wouldn't be the weirdest thing I've done in my life. But, can you…” 

Oh, yeah, sure. Sorry.

It wasn't talking to a cat that troubled her the most. She was curious. Curious to see what he looked like. What her soul mate looked like.

In the blink of an eye, it was not a black cat that was facing her anymore, but a man. A very handsome man. His beauty was just as breathtaking as Namjoon's but in a different way. Black hair, pale skin, thin facial features, yeah, he was beautiful. Moreover, he was stunning.

Shit, if they were all as handsome as Jin, Namjoon and this guy, she was in trouble.

His gaze was the same as in his cat form. Piercing, quite dark, but now she could read something else in it. Tenderness.

Seeing her reaction, a smirk appeared at the corner of his lips. He ran a hand through his hair and took a step towards her. 

"Thanks for the water, by the way, I was very thirsty." he bowed his head with a slight smile and a soft voice that made her shiver, "I'm Min Yoongi, it's very nice to finally meet you, Y/n."

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c10. Kidnapped

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs.

song to listen to when reading this: Come a little closer, Cage the elephant.

abstract: hey this is Jude. you doing alright? you'd never guess who I saw! anyways, I'm almost content in this chapter and then I'm angry again. I've been angry my whole life guys I swear. also, had a special someone with me that night, can you guess who my passenger princess was?

She chuckled when he left the room. Skeleton mask, skeleton gloves, hell he probably had skeleton fucking underwear on. It seemed so out of character for him to be this nice to come all the way to her office and talk to her. He did seem a tiny bit uncomfortable, maybe he wasn't the best at social interactions. He had woke up happy and decided to be a decent human being for once. She didn't trust that his intentions were pure. Maybe he wanted her to speak about it cause he already heard from his friends and wanted the full version. You really want to know Simon, I'll send you the security cameras footage via email, that'll hunt you for a lifetime.

She had a busy day and had to stop thinking about their interaction for a few hours. She was in such a good mood she even had lunch, alone in her office, but still. Her thoughts kept wondering to the Lieutenant, his blue jacket and his thick arms, she had to compose herself when Sergeant Raul, her last patient of the day, had a panic attack in front of her. She got home late, exhausted. She went on a night walk with Jinx, cooked dinner and sat down at her table, her violent grinder and little jar with weed in front of her. She had some reports to finish, she had another two Nutcracker songs to choreograph. Her eyes lingered on 'The Pilgrimage' which she kept as a souvenir from her Sherlock CIA experience with the Arash case. She fished out a lighter from her bag and opened the book in front of her. She liked reading it, she enjoyed it. She had never been much of a religious person, though she was raised catholic. She respected the idea of faith, how it guided people, how it made them feel less alone. She had a thought. A tiny one. A sneaky suspicion. The little urge to lurk. It was a little lightbulb moment, a cinematic sequence in which the music stopped and then violins started playing as she began to think. Her rollie in one hand, the book in the other, she looked at her dog, smell of weed all around her. The poor thing was asleep on the couch, blissfully unaware. When she reached for her laptop to do some research, she knew she was gonna find something.

Two days later she was still debating on telling Price. She really didn't want to bother Laswell, poor woman didn't need more work. They were going to leave in 4 days. She decided she'd tell the first person she would see. It would be the universe to decide. Her office was at the opposite area from Price's so she had slim chances of telling anyone. It wasn't her mission, it wasn't her job, it wasn't her place. She was overstepping.

'Fuck', she said to herself, when she saw the Lieutenant in the parking lot. She froze, foot on the brakes. That's it, it's the universe's choice, you have to tell him. He's gonna kill you. He was smoking. His mask was slightly raised on his nose, exposing his mouth. Not that she could see anything, he was way too far and she was short sighted. Did he ever leave that mask home? He had a vest on, a light blue sherpa jacket that looked extremely comfortable. She looked at his cigarette, he had less than half of it left. Four drags maximum. Just tell him for fuck's sake, it's for the greater good and it’s a fucking good theory. He was almost finished. She slowly came to a stop in front of him and rolled down her window.

The world was silent around them. The sun was setting, the air was crisp. He had noticed the car, he remember it was the same model as hers. He didn't think she would stop. What she said next made his heart skip a beat. 'Hop in? I need to talk to you'. Her eyes were even a prettier colour in this light. They looked translucent. Her skin was shining and golden under the sunlight. 'Can it wait?' He tried to avoid getting in the car with her. Deeply unprofessional. Where did she want to take him anyway, couldn't they talk in his office? What was it she wanted to tell him? 'I'll take you back here when we're done, just a little ride’. She wasn't giving up. Am I being fucking kidnapped by you, Jude? Most guys wouldn't really complain to be honest, but still… He reluctantly sat in the passenger seat, having to adjust his seat to accommodate for his size. The lack of control he had in the situation made him uncomfortable, his fingers tingling with excitement and a slight bit of panic. But this girl… this girl, her presence was just weirdly irresistible. He wanted to know what she wanted to say, every little detail, every hint to who she truly was. He craved that. She slowly took off. She seemed a good driver, she kept her speed stable. 'What is it?' he asked impatient to know why he was being kidnapped. 'So, I kept thinking about what you said about Khorram, that he's hidden somewhere.' She glanced at him while she talked, maintaining her eyes on the road ahead. 'I thought about The Pilgrimage, the book. It's the three stages that I thought about, you know, the Jordan River was the first. Then the middle of the desert, then the Persian Gulf.'

He had to know she was coming up with another theory of hers. He started to get tense. He was getting tired to ear about this, she really had to let this go, it wasn't her place to be talking about it, all these speculations... This was war, people were getting killed everyday by this man and she was here playing detectives. 'I don't think you should keep working on this Jude. It's not your job', he said in the most assertive tone he could manage. She licked her lips, they were entering the city. She sighed, 'I know, I'm just suggesting', she insisted, but he cut her off. 'It's not your place.' He stated. He wasn't afraid to be rough with her or sound disrespectful. She was driving through a bit of traffic, she change gears swiftly and still managed to wave her hand in the air while she talked. 'I know! Since you guys didn't have a clue what you were doing the last time…' he interrupted her again, 'Doesn't mean you're right this time'. She scoffed and slightly raised her tone, visibly annoyed. 'You didn't even fucking let me finish, you don't know what I was about to say!' He caught a glimpse of her eyes, they looked darker. She had the same expression she always had. She looked like she was going to cast a spell on him and turn him into a chair. She must have always won every single argument in her life. Not with him, not with that attitude. 'I don't want to hear it, I can't make my soldiers do things and go places because you read a fucking book, Jude.' If she thought she could win this, she was seriously delusional. 'I read the fucking book that made you not die last week, Simon!' She raised her voice again, turning to face him. Hearing his name escape her lips made him feel weird. It was unusual to hear his name. Ghost, L.t, he had a few nicknames. Only Price called him Simon. He thought about whether she even knew he was Ghost to the others. Simon. It sounded different. It sounded warmer, it sounded pretty. She sang his name. It sounded like it belonged in the phrase Do you want to try that new restaurant with me, Simon, or There's a song I want you to listen, Simon, or Want to take a walk with me, Simon? It sounded like it belonged to a nice, handsome and normal guy, which he wasn't.

'Merda. Oh, merda.' He didn't realise she wasn't looking at him anymore. She had stopped the car, was she going to abandon him on the side of the road? They had stopped in front of a closed building, a few cars parked in the front. The woman next to him had a confused look on her face, which quickly shifted to panic. There was a girl in front of one of the cars. She was alone and she had a bag on her shoulder. Jude pulled the handbrake and got out of the car, walking towards the girl. She must have been 14. He got out of the car, but didn't approach them. He looked at Jude take the girl's hands in her own and talk to her. He couldn't really hear what they were saying, but the little girl was sniffling. She had been crying. 'Oh god', whispered Jude as she hugged the girl, scrunching down. He watcher her hand caress the girl's hair. Why was everything so complicated and bloody mysterious when it came to this girl? He looked at Jude taking the little girl's hand and taking her to the car. He probably looked scary with his skull printed balaclava on. 'Get in Gemma, I'll drive you home okay?' She said, seating down. 'Gemma this is my friend, Simon. Simon this is one of my students, Gemma.'

Jude was perfectly calm now, the little girl sitting in the back of the car. Her eyes were dark, she was driving much slower now, more carefully. She was mad. For what? What do you mean students? He had so many questions he couldn't process to say hi to the girl. Jude kept glancing in the review mirror to make sure Gemma was okay in the back. 'You like the choreography so far?' she asked. She danced? 'Yes, really much' Gemma answered 'I like when we do the circle. With the tour jetés' she said. Jude smiled 'Yeah I like that part too'. She was driving in a residential area more far away from the city centre, but they were getting closer to the road that would take them into the desert. 'Was it this one or the next Gemma?' she was slowing down. 'The next one' said the girl quietly. 'I'll talk to your mom okay?' She said while getting out of the car. She quickly turned towards him, her look apologetic 'I'm sorry, I'll explain. Just a second.' She felt bad for making him wait, it was very unprofessional of her, but it was an emergency and he just happened to be there. At least they stopped fighting. She explained to Gemma's mother that she was driving past the school when she saw her standing outside. The school was open when they arrived, it had closed 5 minutes after she had left. The girls had told Gemma about an extra lesson just for the 5 top students of the class and Gemma had asked her mom to take her. She said she was furious with the others and would talk to them and possibly even prevent some to dance at the final performance. She apologised to Gemma for having to wait outside because of that stupid joke and hugged her one more time, before making her way to the car. Furious was an understatement. How could they be so fucking mean? So so so stupid... She sighed while getting back into the car.

'I'm sorry, I'll take you back. Sorry. Sorry.' She quickly reversed and took off in the direction of the desert. 'Everything okay?' He decided to speak since she was gripping the steering wheel with her knuckles turning white. She waited a second before replying. 'I teach ballet. The other girls told her we had lesson when we didn't, she was the only one who showed up. The school is closed, it's dark out she could have been kidnapped', she said all in one breath. She was shaking her head, how fucking horrifying and dangerous was it to be left alone in the middle of nowhere as a 14 year old girl. Thank God she saw her, poor Gemma. She wasn't blaming her mom, the school was probably still open when they arrived and closed soon after. They were approaching the base in silence, she stopped near the entrance to let him go inside. She kept muttering words in Italian, she was biting her nails nervously. 'Che stronze. Come si fa…assurdo. Troppe poche botte da piccole.' She turned towards him before he had a chance to open the door. 'I'm very sorry you had to witness that, I truly am.' She blinked a few times trying to hide her embarrassment. She messed up all her chances to get him to listen to what she had found now. 'It's fine' he said. His voice was soft. He probably understood that she really couldn't leave the girl there alone, but still. His hand was on the door handle but he wouldn't open the door yet. 'Okay… I'm sorry either way I shouldn't have… done all this.' She was panicking a little at this point. 'Jude it's fine, seriously.' He finally opened the door and got out of the car 'Go home.' He stated before turning away and entering the base.

She went home. She facetimed Salvo and told him about the situation to rant a little bit. She didn't mentioned who she was with, cause it embarrassed her. Cause picking him up was the stupidest idea of her life. She was so fucking mad at the girls she thought about a million fucking different ways to find out who was responsible and make them pay. God, I sound like my mother. Which is very bad, considering what she does for a living…

notes: oh god, what does her mother do then? translation: 'those bitches. how is this possible… incredible. didn't get hit hard enough as kids.' don't hit your kids, violence is bad. also is bullying. I am getting really good results at uni guys!! I'm gonna post the next preview as well cause I'm gonna be studying a lot again, and working and you know. figuring out how to be happy with my life I guess.

love, mare.

taglist:

@ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me

[demon-shark]

Percy got Lost Pt 3

12-year-old Percy Jackson tries to leave Camp Half-blood before Mr. D decides whether or not to kill him. Only Percy gets so lost he ends up in a completely different universe where a man in green finds him.

Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence

[previous] [next]

The sun was setting as Qingqiu ushered Percy into the nicest building Percy had ever seen. He honestly felt like he couldn’t touch anything out of fear of breaking something that cost more than his life. The lobby was shiny like those he had seen in advertisements for trips to tropical islands and the lady at the counter seemed to know about them because her grin was just as wide. As Percy stepped up beside Qingqiu the lady eyed him as if he had personally offended her. He could only assume he had broken some unspoken rule that Qingqiu had yet to explain to him so Percy took a step back. Qingqiu didn’t miss the eye she gave Percy either, clearing his throat to regain her attention, “I need two rooms.” The woman snapped her eyes back to Qingqiu and seemed to momentarily forget about Percy as she apologetically said, “I’m sorry my lord, but we only have one room left.” 

Qinqiu narrowed his eyes and mumbled under his breath something that Percy couldn’t hear but paid for the room anyway. A room was better than no room after all. Percy didn’t need to turn around to know that the Lady was watching him, the feeling of her eyes on his back sending a shiver up his spine. He was tempted to look back, to double check to see if she was like Mrs. Dodds and just waiting for the moment he was alone to jump him. The thought alone pushed Percy even closer to Qinqiu practically grabbing his robes in search of some semblance of safety. Qingqiu reacted by snapping his hand away from Percy, something Percy understood just fine, and he took a couple of steps away from the cultivator. Even so, the constant reminder of things in the shadows wanting him dead still burrowed its way into Percy. It made him jumpy with every door and window they passed, waiting for something to pop out and bite his head off. 

Percy was relieved when they reached the room, he hadn’t even noticed that there was only one bed. But Qingqiu did, muttering a curse under his breath. Just another thing for Liu Qingge to stick his nose into. He could feel his skin itch. The rumors he knew would spawn if this was ever discovered already swirling around in his head. He couldn’t spend the night here. Anywhere but here. It was then Percy’s voice snapped him out of his spiral, “So…” Qingqiu snapped his head to the boy, waiting for him to continue, “What’s for dinner?” Qingqiu stared at the boy for a moment before saying, “I’ll have someone bring some food up.” Percy then clapped his hands as he moved further into the room, “sweet.” He proceeded to kick off his shoes and jump onto the bed. “What are you doing?” Percy looked over at the confused cultivator. “Getting comfy.” 

Qingqiu left the moment he was sure Percy was asleep. Making sure to leave protective talismans so nothing could break in and kill the boy. The streets were mostly empty with the occasional drunk as Qingqiu made his way to the nearest brothel. “Hello Immortal Master, how can we help you?” One of the women moved to grab him by the arm but Qingqiu was quick to stop her, “I just need a place to sleep for the night. Anywhere will do.” An elderly woman dressed in fine purple robes waved Qingqiu towards herself, “Follow me.” 

Percy woke up only an hour after Qingqiu left to someone trying to get into the room. Percy could only watch in terror as someone or something banged and jostled the door, the only thing keeping it out being a shiny piece of paper. “Shen-Gongzi?” Percy whispered, desperately searching around the dark room for the cultivator. Not being able to find him and the banging getting louder, Percy started to push furniture in front of the door. As he got closer though he could hear mumbling. Drunken mumbling. “Sir, can I help you?” Asked the woman from the lobby, her voice easy to recognize. “The damn door is broken.” Percy sighed in relief, what he thought was an attacker was nothing but a drunken idiot. He started moving the furniture back and now with adrenaline pumping through his veins starting to die down he really took in the room. Qingqiu was nowhere in sight. 

After moving everything back, Percy carefully slipped out of the window, the door having refused to budge. He clutched the minotaur’s horn in his hand as he walked the empty streets, the drunks who hadn’t made it home having collapsed in the dark of alleyways. He did eventually come across people. Women dressed in fine silks and gauze with heavy makeup standing in front of a building full of strong smells that Percy couldn’t distinguish. “Hello.” The women stopped their personal conversation and turned to him, looking him up and down. “Aren’t you rather young to still be out?” Percy nodded in agreement, “Yeah, well, I’m looking for someone. He’s about this tall with green eyes, a real grouch.” Percy said as he stood on his tippy toes and tried to motion for Qingqiu’s height. 

The girls looked amongst themselves before motioning Percy to follow. When he entered he was surprised to see the bright reds and gold that decorated the walls. Drunks still at tables and the bar being served by women dressed in a similar manner to the ones outside. “Meili, what are you doing bringing a child here?” The woman leading Percy turned to a stern elderly woman. “Sorry Madame, the boy is looking for the Immortal Master.” Percy stepped up, “I’m traveling with him and he suddenly disappeared. I want to make sure he’s okay.” And find out whether or not he was ditched. The matron gave a nod of permission and Percy was taken up stairs, plugging his ears to try and block out certain noises. At the end of the hallway, the woman opened the door to reveal a sleeping Qingqiu. His features completely peaceful in a way Percy didn’t know was possible for the man. “Guess the guy really didn’t want to share a room.”

[avvail-whumps]

‘guns for hire’ — chaconne #25

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content warnings: multiple whumpers, defiant whumpee, recovery, past injuries, manhandling, minor violence, mentioned past character death, threat of broken bones, blood

The week passed by in a surprising slow trudge. Leo had hesitantly avoided Roy since his threats in the bedroom, choosing to keep his door shut and himself stuck inside. 

There wasn’t anything to do, and he found himself feeling the horrible drag of boredom overpower him. When he’d been with the other mercenaries, time seemed to blur and warp and stretch out all at the same time, the only thing occupying his thoughts being the need to simply survive. Now that there was such a stark contrast, Leo didn’t know what to do with himself. 

It gave his injuries a good time to properly recover. Joey was constantly checking up on the bandages and wrappings, making sure there wasn’t any trouble. Most had started to heal over, including the stitches on his side, but he’d been informed to keep an eye on that one. 

He often woke up sore, but luckily, not in any sort of excruciating pain. Leo didn’t think he had it in him to go through something like that again. 

He ate by himself in his room. 

He’d usually choose quick, easy meals he could whip up himself in his condition, and scurry off back to his room. With the window open and the windowsill big enough for him to sit on, he could lean his head against the glass and watch the scenery outside peacefully. His eyes stared at the treeline and vast forest surrounding them. It looked like it stretched for miles, all the way to the horizon. He wondered how long it would take him to walk to civilisation through it. Maybe hours. Days? 

He was itching to leave. Itching to get out of here. Was it really worth it to just make a run for it? With five, no, now four trained mercenaries, he doubted he would make it very far. He also highly doubted Roy was keeping his keys at the same place as before. Even if he were to make it to the car, switch it on and start driving off, Leo didn’t really know how to drive a car very well. With other cars in the drive, belonging to them, they’d catch up to him in no time. 

Leo tugged Roy’s jacket tighter around him, sinking into a pit of despair. He tugged it up to his chin, gnawing gently at his bottom lip. His condition was better than it had been in a while. He knew if he had enough adrenaline, he could keep himself going for a long while. The blood boiling spark of it when he’d attempted to escape the first time was a rush he’d never felt before; he highly doubted his healing wounds would cause a problem. 

His eyes landed on the violin against the wall with a soft huff. Roy had said he could play when he was healthy enough to stand around and cook, but his stomach almost tightened anxiously at the thought of waiting a second longer. He slowly uncurled himself from the windowsill, sliding off. He unlatched the case and popped it open, his mind set when his eyes instantly landed on the beautiful violin inside. He carefully pried it out, cleaned the bow, made sure everything was in proper working order, and stood facing the window. He could at least have a nice view. He always liked playing while facing his window where he used to live. There was something so simple about getting lost in the scenery as well.

He inhaled deeply, setting the violin under his chin. The position came naturally to him, fingers positioned on the strings as he mentally decided what should be the first thing he play after so long. Something he knew relatively well without sheet music. Maybe Bach? 

His heart thrummed in anticipation. Chaconne from Partita No. 2 in D Minor. He decided that would satisfy his building itch. 

Leo didn’t hold back. The moment the familiar swell of the chord hit his ears, his body seemed to melt into a different plain. His fingers danced automatically along the strings as he moved through the song, following the memory of the sheet music in his mind. The bow jerked smoothly across the strings in an almost oxymoronic way, the sound of his playing filling the entire room. He felt his head spinning, the thoughts bubbling into nothing in his mind, leaving his body to play as if it was on autopilot. 

Leo felt like he had barely even taken a breath the entire way through, becoming lost in the sorrowful music, before he came to an end. His eyes fluttered open, having not even realised they were closed, and slowly lowered the violin from under his chin. His heart was pounding in his chest. Excitement coursed through his veins like fire, and for the first time in a while, Leo actually smiled. 

He instantly moved to play another song. 

. . . 

It was getting dark by the time he’d exhausted himself. His fingers were sore, the weakened calluses not used to such vigorous playing after so long. He gently set the violin back in the case, not wanting to risk ruining the fine hairs on the bow, fearing it wouldn’t be so easy to get a replacement. 

He moved over to the windowsill, setting the spoon in the bowl, the metallic clatter filled the now quiet space. 

He popped a small painkiller into his mouth, and downed his glass of water. He carefully carried the pots down the hallway, his eyes catching onto one of the doors of the rooms being wide open. He snuck a subtle glance as he passed, noting that it had been cleared out. 

He knew these were guest rooms; more accurately, he knew this was where the other mercenaries had been sleeping. It made his brows pinch in curiosity and confusion, but the prospect of somebody leaving made his heart flutter in hope. He hoped it was Bran. Maybe if one of them was leaving, then so were the rest. It would mean that Roy probably wasn’t taking contracts any time soon, and that meant he wouldn’t have to be alone with them again. 

His socked feet crept silently down the stairs, muffled against the wooden floorboard. His eyes instinctively flickered across the house, diligently looking out for anybody. The atmosphere was still grim, even after all this time. Usually, the mercenaries would, bar Roy, be having a drink, laughing and joking with each other. Now it seemed there wasn’t enough energy for that. 

He retreated into the kitchen, gently setting his bowl, spoon and empty glass into the sink. 

He turned the tap on with a soft flick, filling it with water, before putting it on the draining board. He wasn’t really in the mood to wash and put them away right now. With the darkening sky, he felt like he could do with a good nap. 

Exiting the kitchen, Leo almost screeched to a halt when he saw Bran standing in the corridor at the front entrance. He noticed him at the same time, eyes narrowing into a nasty glare. His eyes flickered down to the bandage around his palm, and he swallowed uneasily. It wasn’t his fault Roy had done that. He despised the fact that the big man seemed to take his anger out on him, since clearly, for whatever reason, he couldn’t do it to Roy.

His sharp voice sliced through the air. 

“What the fuck are you looking at?” 

Leo blinked. He felt a spark of something in his belly for a split second. But it was enough for him to open his mouth. 

“Nothing special.” 

Maybe it was because he was tired. Maybe it was because he was feeling far too at ease from playing for the entire afternoon. Or maybe it was the twisted notion inside of him that told him Roy would hurt Bran again if he touched him. That he was protected by a man that wouldn’t hesitate to shoot somebody for him. The thoughts made his heart thunder in his chest. 

He still regretted it when he saw the anger rumble like lightning in Bran’s beady eyes. His lips curved into a bitter, twisted grin. 

“Oh, you think you can be cocky now, don’t you?” He growled, shaking his head fiercely. He took a few rumbling steps forwards, and Leo felt his spine stiffen in an ounce of fear. His head tilted back slightly as he grew closer, feet rooted into the ground. He opened his mouth to say something, but Bran’s meaty hand leapt forward, and he suddenly felt a constricting pressure on his wrist. 

He let out a pained hiss, morphing into a choked gasp when it was twisted painfully in his grasp. The man jerked him forward, but Leo found himself trying to twist away, hand digging into his wrist with sharp nails. 

“Let go of me!” He hissed under his breath, wince breaking out along his face when the man’s hand struck the side of his cheek with dizzying force. The numb throbbing shocked him momentarily, enough that he couldn’t retain his balance when he was dragged forward. He felt himself being smashed into the wall, a cry of pain flying from his lips. Bran was twisting his arm uncomfortably behind his back, sending agonising pains up his shoulder blades. 

His skull swam with nausea. 

All the memories almost exploded to the surface of his mind, and he was overtaken by this animalistic panic. He couldn’t have cared less what he looked like, squirming and wriggling as he fought against Bran’s bruising hold. 

“Screw you!” He screamed, teeth grinding together and tears burning his eyes. “Get off!” 

Bran laughed sharply, his voice like poison in his ear. “Look at you with a fuckin’ backbone. Are you waiting for Roy to come down and save you again, huh?” 

He twisted his arm further, and Leo screamed. 

“Huh? I’m gonna break your fuckin’ arm before that can happen,” he snarled. “You got Rafi killed, you pathetic little shit.” 

Bran grasped his shoulder, violently spinning him around before he could get his footing. His hand clamped around his throat, slamming him back into the wall with a force that had his ribs throbbing. Agonising pain erupted under his bruising hand, the sore skin flaring. Leo panicked, his arms flailing out. He hit something hard on one of the cabinets in the hallway, and he instantly went to snatch it. 

It came hurtling at the side of Bran’s skull, and the ceramic vase smashed upon impact at the adrenaline fueled strength he’d managed to put behind it. The big man was thrown off centre from the blinding pain, staggering away from him. Leo’s socks slipped on the floorboards as he stumbled backwards, back smacking against the front door. 

He saw a pool of blood running from the side of Bran’s face, the remains of the vase scattered uselessly along the ground. His heart rate picked up in a second, and Leo tore the front door open. 

He threw it shut behind him with a loud slam, his feet taking him across the front yard, and past all of the parked cars. Adrenaline surged through his blood. His only thoughts were telling him to get out of here, his cells leaping at the chance for escape. 

He didn’t look back. Not for a second. Not even when he heard a deep, rage fuelled shout of his name from the house. He veered off the dirt track, plunging into the forest instead, and he didn’t stop for even a moment, the haunting echoes of Chaconne playing in his mind. There was no going back now. Leo even considered stopping, planting himself down and letting Roy catch up to him, begging for forgiveness. 

But if he was caught, then he feared the mercenary might really do something to his father, just like he’d threatened. Leo couldn’t let that happen.

tag list – @unorganisedalienrubbish @d-cs @rabidrabidme @sordayciega @burningkittypoet @whumpawink @mannerofwhump @suspicious-whumping-egg @welcome-to-the-whumpfest @whatwasmyprevioususername @crilex29 @firefly017 @dutifullykrispyland @wibbly-wobbly-whump @there-will-always-be-blood @anonintrovert @justawhumpjunkie @whumptastic-world @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @whumpterful-beeeeee @anonymous1235 @sonder35 @unforgiven235 @whumpasaurus101 @mj-or-say10 @professional-idiocy @seaweed-is-cool @theelvishcowgirl

[unnervinglyferal]

It's more tied to the fact that psychosis or whatever the hell my brain has been hitting me with since like August hits when I'm here in my bed at night, sometimes in the middle of my sleep, like, it literally wakes me up in the depths of the night just to fucking make me experience suicide-inducing levels of existencial dread and horrific sensations previously only known to maybe G-d and other bodyless entities.

I'll be here laying still trying to get some G-d forsaken rest, which is something we all need to survive and function like sane human beings -at the maximum extent some of us can- and my mind will decide it's the best time ever to make me go through mental acrobatics that involve me being unable to recognise that I exist, that others exist and that no, actually, the world will not disappear the minute I go to sleep or even die, and you guys are your own individual beings with your own consciences, the problem with that is that you don't really have anything that proves that to you. I lack tactible proof that you guys are as real as me, and that you guys have your own private currents of reality, because you can't prove that kind of stuff, it's stuff that seems obvious in perspective, but you don't really ever get to see it yourself, because most people don't need that type of proof.

Anyways, that's not the only problem. Alongside existencial doubt and dread and horror, I have to face physical sensations that don't make any sense. Yesterday night I got woken in the middle of the night by a sense of incredible vibrating violence against the world, and it was not like, just an emotion, because the insides of my nails itched with hate. My hands feel like, heavy and lightweight at the same time, and I get such an intense mental fog. It's terrible. It's a feeling so terrible it makes me, the 18 year old adult fucker, go to sleep on the same bed my parents do hoping it'll leave me alone. It's a feeling so overwhelming that my mind instantly decides that dying would be a viable option for instant release, as in the sense of euthanasia. It's embarassing, it's distressing, it's agonizing, it is unsustainable.

I don't even know for sure if it's psychosis, but I call it such because I've considered that it might be like an anxiety attack or a meltdown out of overstimulation, but it feels different that any of those things. It's mental anguish that came out of years of sadness, depression, fear and loneliness. It woke me up in the middle of the night one random day and it hasn't left since.

So far, I can only seem to wait those out when they happen. Not like I have any other choices. I can't seem to find any triggers that I could avoid to avoid causing them in the first place, though it's not like something that hits you in the middle of sleep without any seemingly plausible reason it's the kind of thing that can be avoided at all by any means. Just one of those situations you gotta grit your teeth through, before you figure out what exactly it is or where did it come from or if it's curable at all.

And that's why I'm scared of going to sleep. The mind works in ways. Not sure which, just ways.

You need to get somewhere peaceful. Somewhere that you've got peace of mind and you can rationally trust that you're safe. I'm not going to say "feel safe", because you're not going to feel safe anywhere for a long while no matter where you are, but somewhere where you can tell yourself that the part telling you that you're in danger is wrong, and trust that it's true.

[gummybugg]

🗡️Writeblr Battle Royale!💥

Super glad I to got to work with @quisyop on this battle scene between my oc Blair (from Crater City) and their oc Io (from Orbit of Thieves)! Thanks @writeblrbattleroyale for hosting this event! Really enjoyed it and yall should Really check out the other opponents' fights :'D

Without further ado, welcome to the violence and gore of the battle between Blair vs Io! 🎉⚔️

POV: 1st person, Blair

Warning: mentions of blood and gore

...

I woke up with a splitting headache that would put jackhammers to shame. I must have had a massive hangover.... Except, I found myself in a place I had never been before. 

Somewhere vast but enclosed. Somewhere bright but also dark. Somewhere starch but gruesome. Reminded me of the dentist’s. It sent shivers down my spine. 

Maybe I really had blacked out drunk. I was in some sort of stadium like I’d seen in an old gladiator movie. Man, do I really gotta fight a lion?

Someone overhead was speaking, interrupting my thoughts, but I couldn't make out all the words due to its intense reverb. Looks like someone needs to get their speakers checked. I would have offered to take a look at them with no extra charge, except I didn’t take this whole killing-game-thing too lightly.

"Welcome to the battle my...contestants. Welcome to....bloodshed. I am M, your humble game master. In front of me are our contenders....The only way out is either killing your opponent or dying. These two are a...interesting duo! I just can’t wait for the show!" 

Soon, "Livin' la Vida Loca" by Ricky Martin began playing in the overhead speakers. Well, at least they have good music taste.

I wonder what M stands for. Maybe their name is so embarrassing that they only want to be known by a single letter. Or maybe if you utter their name you'll get cursed. Or die. Or summon Satan! Gah, focus on the task at hand, Blair, your life is at stake! 

I saw Elijah in the stands among a sea of blank faces. I waved back, but he didn't seem so enthused. He yelled something at me but I couldn’t really make it out too well.

M announced my name and the name of my opponent. I couldn't exactly hear what their name was or see what they looked like so far away (about 50 feet, more or less), so I decided to go and ask them.

Surely they don't take that ego-inflated asshat M that seriously. Battle to the death? Come on, I have better things to spend my time on. Like running from authorities. 

"Hey, dude!" I waved at the figure in the distance that seemed unmoving. 

As I approached him, I began to piece together a better picture: this guy was much taller than me. He had a dark complexion, gray hair, and a serious vibe. And he was wearing formal attire. Why didn't anyone tell me this was a formal event? I looked down. Yep, I was still in my t-shirt and cargo shorts. How terribly underdressed!

There was no response from the man, even though we were six feet apart at this point. 

"Hi, so–" I kept my hands visible. 

Then he performed one of those roundhouse kicks and made me fall on my ass! My croc flew up in the air. I grabbed it before it hit the ground, then proceeded to bat his face as he attempted to strangle me. 

"Io knocks Blair down and strangles him!" The speakers blare. 

"What is wrong with you? Are you irradiated or something?" I gasped, struggling to get back on my feet.

"Stay still!" He clocked my jaw with the hilt of his gun, then placed his hands around my neck, "I said, stay still!"

"Why are you so mean?" I spit out a tooth. Metallic fluids filled in the gap. 

I wedged my hands between his grip on my neck, pulling him down for a kick in the chest. This didn't seem to slow him down because he lunged at me again. I dodged in an effort to slash his arm with my balisong. But he was too slippery! I couldn't even grace the hairs on his body!

"Wait, you can't kill me! I don't even know your name!" I called, wiggling around him. I clawed at his face to unsteady his aim.

Then a gunshot sounded. 

I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder. Blood soaked through my shirt. Something must have grazed my shoulder…? Well, at least it blends in, I reasoned.

Oh, shit. Wait, he really does have a gun, doesn’t he?

"Hey, what was that for, man?" I beat him with my croc, the jagged jibbitz drawing blood on his cheek. I peeled back a small chunk of his eye with the edge of a heart charm. 

"You bastard, get that shoe–" He took my croc and tossed it across the stadium "–outta my face!"

"Hey, you owe me 60 credits for that!”

Then he aimed a gun at my face. 

Rude. 

“And you owe me your life. Goodbye, Blair." He sneered, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. 

Oh, I don’t like it when they sneer. 

With record speed, I swung open my balisong. A few tricks ought to knock his ego down a few pegs! I decided to perform a classic: the old Van Gogh trick. A toss of the knife up in the air to be snatched next to my ear. 

But before the knife could slip comfortably into the crook of my neck, a bullet ricocheted off the blade midair and right into some guy’s head in the audience. His head exploded like a piñata, showering those behind him in red. The crowd cheered. Well, except the dead guy. 

My knife clattered to the ground.

“Io’s bullet ricochets off of Blair’s blade!” M announced. 

Oh, so that’s what his name is. And what was with the old-timey ammo? Didn't everyone use electric weapons these days? Well, at least he’s human and not a droid. Right? I'm at least 80% sure he's human. 

“How did you…?" Io narrowed his eyes, shifting his weight. I wasn't sure how I pulled off that stunt either, but I wasn't gonna tell him that. "Doesn't matter," he positioned his aim. The ground pulsed dramatic shades, syncing to the beat of the song. It was like some sick and twisted dance battle to the death.

Click. 

Click. Click. Click.

The sweet sound of an empty gun. 

"Uh-oh! Seems Io has run out of ammo!" M inserted himself. The crowd gasped.

"Shit!” He rubbed his temple. 

My eyes caught the large crates in the distance behind Io, who fumbled with his gun for a moment. They were probably chock-full of that precious old-school ammo. 

But Io didn't take his eyes off of me. In fact, he raised a brow at me. But just before he could follow my gaze, I pulled a fast one. I grabbed my knife.

It spun swiftly around my finger, flicking upward in a triple somersault. But gravity wasn't on my side, since it launched the first two joints from my left pinkie at Io's face. 

Well, you win some, you lose some. 

"What the–did you just throw your finger at me?"

"And Blair uses a secret family technique: confuse-your-opponent-by-slinging-a-severed-finger-at-them!" M announced as the crowd oohed and ahhed.

The look on Io's face was horrifying. Truly a look of pure bloodlust. He wiped the severed finger off with the back of his hand as if it were a chip crumb. My finger lay on the ground in a small pool of red, all alone. 

"Uh, oh."

I booked it to the large, wooden crates, which sat on the other side of the stadium. I had to get there before he did, or else I’d turn into Piñata Man. Thankfully my years of running from the law finally paid off. Suddenly I was the poster boy for the Presidential Challenge, and no one could stop me! 

"Come over here, you slippery bastard!" Io swung his gun at my head as he got closer and closer. He was definitely a fast one. 

"Yeah, for you to turn me into swiss cheese? Everyone knows string cheese solos!" I called into the wind. Whether or not he heard what I said was out of my control. I had a pile of crates waiting for me to guard!

Along the curved wall of the stadium were ads for movies I had never heard of before: Chess vs Brooke, Mary vs Ametrine, Herschel vs Jackson… Then I saw our reflections bounce off the reflective gaps in between each poster. Io ran with the speed and grace of a gazelle before being attacked by prey. Except I was the poor excuse of a bush that he was chasing after. 

"And Io and Blair are racing to the crates! Who will get there first?" The speakers announced. "It was about time they noticed. I thought the materials were going to go to waste…"

Io finally threw his gun at my head, but missed due to my tendency to run in a zigzagging motion. 

From the sidelines, Elijah cheered me on, a stained paper bag in hand: "You better not die, Blair!" 

"Not in the plans!" I shouted back. 

I was about as nimble as a baby hippo, but used this feature to my advantage–suddenly stopping, dropping, and rolling to catch Io by surprise–causing him to trip. I rolled back, putting all my weight on his spine, planting his face on the ground. Quickly, I pinned one arm with my knee and one right arm with my hand. 

"You don't know what you're doing, Blair!" He wriggled like a worm in a petri dish. Probably because the ground tasted like ass. I held the blade of my balisong to his neck. 

Io seemed confused at my special fighting techniques I picked up from the city streets because he mentioned something about my freakish skills and complete lack of self-regard. I shrugged it off; it was just a couple of flesh wounds. The pain was just now setting in, though, so I was getting a bit antsy.

"In a shocking turn of events, Blair has Io pinned!" M sounded as if he were smiling. At least someone got a kick out of our pain. "Will this be Io's last few moments?"

"Get off of me!" Io wriggled more viciously. 

"Listen, I really don't want to kill you," I pressed the blade into his skin. "But your attitude is telling me to reconsider." 

"I don't need your pity." He spat on my croc. "Eat shit."

This felt…too easy.

But I couldn't just release him. No, this man was even more unpredictable than me. I couldn't take any chances. 

It wasn't like I enjoyed any of this. Just yesterday I took Elijah to his favorite restaurant after news of a new lead. Info on the guy who tried to kill him for his debt that one night. I'd get to avenge Elijah, finally. I was so close. We were so close.

Is this what my life has come to? Fighting violence with more violence? Am I really as heartless and impulsive as they tell me?

It’s not supposed to end this way.

I dug the blade deep into Io's neck with a sickening squelch, watching the blood pool around his head in the shape of a halo. Reflecting back was the blank stare of a cold-blooded killer. I pressed harder into the wound my hands had inflicted.

My blood–no, Io’s blood–sputtered on the arm that pinned him down. My eyes were unmoving. They did not look away until the pressure of the liquid calmed. 

There was not a single twitch. No retort. No fighting back.

Maybe there really is no other way to save things. I am doomed to repeat these violent tendencies.

"It seems Blair has delivered the final blow! What a conclusive ending to such a speedy battle!" M's voice echoed in stereo, the audience absolutely losing their minds. 

I don't think I like this anymore…Does this make me a monster? I was just doing what I had to do to survive. What does Elijah think of it all? My thoughts spun faster and faster. 

I turned to the crowd, but his face was nowhere to be seen. Had I just imagined it? Was he ever there to begin with? 

I looked down at Io's lifeless body. Nothing had changed. He was still dead, and my hands were still connected to the weapon.

The crowd cheered my name. My name. The name of a murderer. 

I released the balisong from my grip. Io's sticky blood coated each finger like a coat of cheap paint, the same way kids play with red paint when pretending to be a vampire. But I wasn't a kid, this was real life. I wasn’t a vampire, but a murderer. 

“Congratulations, Blair, you have made it to the second round!” M roared, the crowd continuing to chant my name. The stadium lit up in an array of bright colors, and confetti poured down from the invisible ceiling. Cannons and fireworks went off, making me jump. Their popping sounded similar to that of a gun firing. 

I buried my face in my hands. They smelled of metal. They stained my lips. I saw red through my fingers as I tilted my head up to the source of M's voice. 

What has he done to me? 

No.

Why did I let him get to me?

...

🚗 Want to rot your brain with each sporadic Crater City post? Join the taglist! Maybe I'll finish this wip someday, who knows! (ask to be added/removed): @writeouswriter @lyra-brie @digitalsatyr23

[artisticbirb]

It's just a game, right? PT 4

Warnings: Tension, very mildly spicy kiss, cursing (b*tch, wh*re), minor violence (he deserved it), nightmare involving violence. Sadness, but gets comforted. part 3

He leans in the rest of the way, pulling you into him as your lips connect, warm soft and barely touching at first, still unsure. You kissed back gently, tracing your hands up his chest to slowly wrap your arms around his neck, his hand moving from your hip to the small of your back, the other reaching towards the back of your neck, fingers curling into your hair, pulling you closer as he pressed you gently into the wall, deepening the kiss. 

Suddenly you both hear footsteps coming towards the closet and break apart, Felix giving you a grin while you stand there almost shaking and you struggle to collect yourself quickly before the door opens and a curious head cautiously peeks in. "Uhhh you guys done in here?" Chan asks looking between the both of you. "Yep, we're done." Felix says without breaking eye contact with you, and you feel a blush creeping back up your face. Placing his band on your back he gently guides you to the door, removing it again before your boyfriend can see it, and exiting behind you. You were honestly terrified but seeing almost everyone grin at you with a proud and knowing look on their faces gave you sudden confidence as you walked back to your spot on the floor. Your boyfriend noticed your blushing, and glared daggers at you as you sat down. "Did you just cheat on me?" he said, obviously pissed. "No of course not. Besides, it's "just a game", right?" you responded with a fake smile. Someone went "Ooooooohhhhhh", and this seemed to be a breaking point for your already pissed off "boyfriend" who stood up so quickly going in your direction that you nearly fell backwards from your seated position to move away from him, but he was quickly blocked by someone. "You fucking bitch, you think you can get away with acting like a whore?!" he said peering around the body blocking him. "Back off." came a very stern chilling voice, as Felix stood his ground staring your boyfriend right in the eyes, inches from his face. Snapping to look at Felix your boyfriend swung, "Who do you think you a-" he was cut off and laying on the ground before you processed what had just happened, and was being dragged out of the room seconds later by Changbin and Leeknow.

You stood up, staring in shock for a few moments trying to process that your boyfriend had just tried to hit you. People immediately started crowding around you, asking if you were okay, and if you got hurt. “I-i’m fine” you stutter, your breath shaky, heart ready to beat out of your chest. Your friend pulled you in for a long hug to calm you down, meanwhile it was decided it was time for everyone else to head home. "Do you wanna stay here for the night y/n?" your friend asked you, loosening the hug. "Yes please.. I don't have any of my stuff though" you answered still a bit shakey. "I can go get it" Felix said suddenly, motioning Chan to come over. "O-okay, thank you.." you responded, and wrote down the address and hotel room number after being handed Felix's phone. The two left quickly, and your friend fixed up the big couch for you to sleep on then made a cup of tea to try and relax you a bit more. After finishing your tea, you laid down and closed your eyes. Suddenly you were back on the floor, playing the game. Your boyfriend lunged at you again, but this time nobody blocked him, everyone was gone, and you barely moved out of the way in time before he was after you again grabbing something, something metal and sharp, maybe a knife but you didn't look, you just ran for your life into the nearest room, locking the door. Suddenly there was loud pounding, the door creaking, then suddenly bursting open. You woke up with a scream, breathing heavily starting to cry, and suddenly soft warm hands were cradling your face, worried brown eyes staring into yours. "It was just a dream, you're okay, you're okay, take a deep breath". He pulled you in close to his chest as he sat next to you, caressing your hand with his thumb, calming you down. “Can you please stay here..” you whisper quietly, almost too quiet for him to hear. "You want me to stay? Are you sure?" Felix responds softly, looking you in the eyes. "Yes please.." You say still sniffling softly. "I don't think I can sleep right now. I just want someone to stay near me". "Yeah I can do that" he says quietly, then goes up and grabs a box of tissues. "Here" he says, gently dabbing your tears away and handing you a second one to blow your nose. "Do you want to come to my room then? I don't think there's quite enough space for us both on the couch" he said softly, and you only nodded your head in response. He grabbed your hand, leading you to the connected hotel room to his bed. After gently tucking you in, he snuggled in next to you against your back with an arm wrapped around you. Feeling warm and safe, you were finally able to sleep peacefully for the night. Thank you so much for reading everyone, this is going to be the last part (probably) unless anybody has suggestions for how to continue it. If you guys have any ideas feel free to message me or something! I hope everyone enjoyed the story :)

[mari-the-bimbo]

CONGRATS FOR 4K BABY!!! You deserve even more <33

I was wondering how would dorm mate gojo react, when the reader comes home badly injured.

feel free to ignore it <33

Thank you :D

Dorm mate Gojo: you return badly injured

A/N: Thank you so much bby!! Feels like a while since I did dorm mate Gojo so this felt very refreshing!! Enjoy! <3

Warning: mentions of beating? Implied violence

It was safe to say you had traumatised your white haired lover when you came back to the dorm injured that evening.

Gojo was so used to keeping you happy, healthy and pretty, that seeing even a bruise on your face enraged him.

“W-why are you injured pea brain?” He said, his large hands holding your face as he stared at you with extreme concern. His forehead pressed against yours, urging you for an answer, until Geto managed to pull him away.

“Give y/n some space bro, you’ll overwhelm her, let’s just allow her to get changed and we can tend her wounds and get answers after yeah?” Geto reasons with Gojo, who slowly nods with a pout.

You sigh in relief, quietly thanking Geto for giving you some space.

You wobble along to your bedroom, sighing as you got changed, occasionally hissing when it hit certain wounds. You looked in the mirror and saw the hideous bruise littered across your face and arms. ‘How am I gonna explain this one to them’

But you jumped out of your thoughts when you suddenly saw Gojo leaning against the door frame of your room.

‘Ah! Gojo you scared me!”

“Boo” he teases with a smile, but his smile doesn’t seem to meet his eyes.

“C’mon scaredy cat” he sighs as he saunters into your room, and picks you up bridal style. He carries you to the main dorm living area, plopping you down onto the sofa, before standing back up.

He stared down at you from from his tall 6’0 height, hands stuffed in his pocket, you wish you could take his shades off, because right now he remained expressionless under the glasses.

“Bubs?” He finally speaks after a moment of staring at eachother.

“Yeah Gojo?”

“Who did this to you?”

You turn your head away in embarrassment. How were you supposed to tell him that you got injured in a fight you started?

“Y/n got injured in a fight she started” said Geto from the doorway.

“GETO!” You scold.

“I WILL HOLD YOU ACCOUNTABLE WHEN YOU ARE AT FAULT YOUNG LADY!!” Geto scolds you back with a wagging g finger, making you pout.

Gojo gasps at Geto’s accusations. “GETO! How dare you blame my lady!!” Gojo immediately defends you, making you stifle a laugh and Geto tries his best not to laugh at his lovesick friend too.

“Because ‘your lady’ started th-“ but Geto was cut off once again.

“I’m sure whoever y/n decided to fight provoked her and deserves death! Oh maybe I could infin-“ but Gojo was cut off by you once you let out a hiss in pain.

Both of the men looked down at you in concern, before Geto rushed to the kitchen to make you some food, and Gojo sat down next to your lying dorm on the sofa.

A sad smile on his face as he placed on ice pack to your eye and placed a soft kiss to your bruised cheeks.

‘I’ll kiss all your boo boos” he stated making you slightly giggle at his stupidity.

“Thank you nurse” you teased as he littered kisses all across you face and body. Making silly ‘MUAH’ noises as he did to make you smile.

———-

That night you were tucked into bed by the white haired man, who later decided to join you in your small bed, giggle with you as he did, stroking you back which easily lulled you to sleep.

But when you woke up in the middle of the night once you felt Gojo’s side of the bed empty, you decided to check his room, hoping to ask him to join you in bed again

But he was no where to be found

Neither was Geto.

And your only guess was that the crazy dorm mate duo was avenging you in ways you would rather not know.

[enhadiares]

Hii I really loved the ni-ki, jay and sunoo soft like it's so good!! If you can could you please do a sunghoon version? thank you in advance and can you also tag me?

Yandere Sunghoon being soft after almost killing his s/o.

%...Disclaimer I do not condone this behaviour. This is just imagination and none of the members are like this.

%...Pairing Park sunghoon x reader

%...Genre Yandere

%...Warning typical Yandere themes , violence? , car hit , accident , kidnapping etc.

%..a/n hey @sunshineeluvvy 🤍, here's the sunghoon version 🥳 The thing everyone's been waiting for. Hope you like it <3

Other member version

Another day , Another trial of escape. Backstory for this is simple yet creepy. Sunghoon was so damn in love with you that he used to stalk you , follow you around without your knowledge and then decided to kidnap you and make you a prisoner in his stupid house.

He wasn't your boyfriend , nor was he your friend. He was just a classmate of yours who you didn't even talk to . He was known as the weird kid . And no it's not like you didn't try to befriend him— it's him who used to always freeze whenever you would come around. You gave up at a point because he never used to speak to you. But what made him kidnap you was the new kid named Jake.

He was a foreign exchange student and wanted help to catch up in his studies since he came in between the year and semester. You decided to help him and you guys became friends really easily. Days passed by and you became even closer with Jake which made sunghoon extremely jealous. He decided that it's time that he makes you his. He sent you a note which contained:

"Hey yn,

it's me sunghoon and I wanted to tell you something. Meet me at the backside of our school.

Your hoon"

Yeah it was creepy but you thought that he wanted to be friends so you went there but you were wrong.very wrong. When you went there - he told you what he wanted to. He wanted to tell you that he loves you and you are his so why not make it official. It was a great shock to you. You immediately disagreed which made him mad. He kinda knew that this would happen but he just wished it wouldn't. But it did. So he kidnapped you right at that moment. You woke up in his house which was in woods. That sneaky bastard. He came and told you that , that was "your new home". But you knew what to do . Try to escape. You made it seem like you were getting used to being with him. Acting like you are starting to love him aswell. And the great part was that he was falling for it!! He was out at work when you decided that you don't wannabe here any longer and took the bag you packed and sprinted out of the door. You were feeling kinda happy but scared too. You never looked back. You were finding the road so you could ask for help. You immediately started looking for someone. Praying that someone would see you . Anyone. You wished you specified anyone but sunghoon. Meanwhile sunghoon was coming home when he saw you from afar with a bag looking for someone on the road. He never felt so angry , sad and betrayed. You tried to escape. Run away from him. He gave you everything and yet you still do this to him. He was so angry and deep in his thoughts about how he shouldn't have trusted you. He accidentally hit something. Or someone. That someone being you. He instantly regretted being so angry and lost in thought. You were the only one on the road. It means that he just hit you. He rushed out of the car and ran towards you . You were laying on the floor. All bloody. Your face had many bruises and cuts. So did your forearms and legs. You were looking horrible. Your eyes were also closed. Taking your face in his lap he started tapping your cheeks."yn baby, wake up . Wake up yn . Don't do this to me" he was panicking. D-did he kill you? Did he just kill the live of his life? What would he do without you? He went to grab his phone and punched the ambulance's number. "H-hello I'm at xxxx road and someone just hit my girlfriend with a car . Please come quickly" that's what he told them. The ambulance came not too long after and sunghoon went with you to the hospital. You were in the room for half the day. When the doctor reported to him that you were alive but just had some injuries , he felt a sudden relief and guilt wash all over him. He thanked the doctor and came inside your room. He sat beside you and looked at you with soft eyes while trying to get himself together. He held you hand and kissed your knuckles.Tears were threating to fall from his eyes. His lips were quivering. It was very hard to control his emotions in this situation. He let them fall. They were flowing like a waterfall . He was repeatedly saying sorry to you. Or your unconscious form.

"I'm sorry . I'm sorry . I'm so so so sorry baby . *hiccups* I-i swear I didn't mean to hit you. I was just feeling so betrayed that you were trying to leave me and I was so lost in thought that I didn't see you and the car accidentally hit you. Please forgive me . Please . Wake up"

But he was wrong. You were listening to him. But you weren't going to forgive him. No.Not for kidnapping you , not for hitting you with a car. He might have done this so you couldn't run from him anymore. It was his plan and he was just acting and spitting lies so you would believe him and get guilt-trapped. But you weren't dense. You'll never fall for his pathetic tricks. You are going to escape again but you will have to wait for the time till you recover. But you will wait . If that will help you escape. You will.

Kkeut

[animethic]

Hi, welcome to tumblr ✨

Can I rq a oneshot for yandere Jotaro x reader x yandere Kakyoin? (or just Jotaro x reader or Kakyoin x reader if you more comfortable with that)

Afab reader please (but you can choose neutral reader if you want)

Hey thanks for the welcome and thanks for requesting sorry for the wait, hope this is okay for you!

Disclaimer: I don't condone any of the toxic or abusive behaviours mentioned in this fic.

Word count 1.77k

CW: Yandere themes, Obsessiveness, Manipulation, Toxic Relationships, Isolation, Cursing, Threats of violence (Towards reader) Kissing (Nothing suggestive), Slight Objectification/infantilization. Poly Relationship, Female Reader. 18+ only content

Yandere! Jotaro x  Fem!reader x Yandere! Kakyoin

You woke up in a sweat, lying between your two “boyfriends” on the large bed that the three of you shared in Jotaro’s room. Your head was laying on Jotaro’s broad chest while Kakyoin had his arm wrapped around your waist in a suffocating embrace. Both of them seemed to be in a deep sleep and you decided that now was the time to put your escape plan into action.

Slowly you removed the red head’s arm from your waist and shimmied yourself off the bed slowly so as to not wake the two sleeping men, luckily for you they were both heavy sleepers so it wasn’t a difficult task. Creeping over to the bedside table where your phone sat, you quickly unlocked it shooting (F/N) a quick text, Plan is on, meet you at the school in twenty minutes. Their reply was almost instantaneous. Alright, see you then. “Wow, they must have been really worried about me to stay up this late” you thought.

The relationship between you and the two men wasn’t always toxic. They used to be perfectly loving boyfriends who treated you like royalty. You were taken out on adventurous dates, brought thoughtful gifts and showered with love and attention. Although admittedly, it took Jotaro a bit more time to break down his walls and be comfortable with this he eventually warmed up and became just as loving as Kakyoin. 

Lately though they had both changed. You didn't go out on dates anymore, opting to stay at Jotaro’s house where they both claimed “It would be more fun anyway”. Which turned into excuses as to why you shouldn’t leave the house altogether, and soon without even realising, you had moved in with them full time. “Yare yare (Y/N) what’s the point in leaving for groceries when we can just bring you anything you need?” Jotaro said as if you had asked a ridiculous question. You didn’t question him, too afraid of his temper to say anything. He has never laid a finger on you before, but you weren’t about to take any chances. Kakyoin wasn’t much better, making you feel guilty for even suggesting to go outside alone.

“Do you not want to be around us (Y/N)? Trying to look for another man to replace us, huh?” He pouted. You didn’t ask to go out again after that.

Truthfully you couldn’t take it anymore. You loved the two men of course and stayed out of loyalty more than anything, but they were extremely suffocating, and you needed to get out. It was taking a toll on your mental health. A few days ago you broke down in a phone call with (F/N) while Kakyoin and Jotaro were out of the house visiting Jotaro’s grandpa Joseph. 

(F/N) was one of the only friends who stuck around during your forced isolation from the outside world. Together you both came up with a plan to escape from the two men in the middle of the night within the next week. It broke your heart to do it this way but you knew breaking up with them directly would be a bad idea so this was the only option you had left.

You creep downstairs into the kitchen trying to be as quiet as possible and grab the keys for the front door off the kitchen counter. Peeping around to see if the coast was clear you make your way over to the front entrance and grab your black winter jacket from beside the door and you’re just about to put it on when you hear a gruff voice come from behind you.

“Where do you think you’re going this late at night?” Jotaro questions.

Your body goes rigid as you turn around to face the man in question looking at the unreadable expression on his face. “I was just going out for some fresh air for a few minutes and then come back to bed, I swear Jojo” you said, holding your hands up defensively in front of you. 

He sighs in annoyance “Yare Yare, you know you’re not supposed to leave the house without at least one of us with you at all times there could be someone dangerous out there”.

“Yes Jotaro I know” It was your turn to sigh now, all hopes of not being caught gone out the window.

Without being told to, you began walking back up the stairs, with Jotaro following close behind. The plan had already failed so you resigned yourself to trying again another time when the chance came. You yelp at the sudden feel of a gentle hand pressing against your lower back to help guide you back upstairs.

“What’s wrong?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“N-Nothing Jojo” you squeak out, turning your face away from him in an attempt to hide the fierce blush that coloured your face, you don’t know if you’ll ever get rid of the shyness you feel from his affectionate touches.

You both reach the bedroom to find a worried looking Kakyoin who’s wide awake waiting for your arrival back to bed. The minute he spots the two of you he smiles and opens his arms in invitation for a hug which you immediately accept.

“Where did you head off to beautiful?” Kakyoin asks stroking the back of your hair, “We missed you in bed with us and got a bit of a fright when we woke up and seen you weren’t here with us”

You were about to answer him until Jotaro spoke in your place, “She wanted to go for a walk, said she needed fresh air or something”.

You glared at him for speaking as if you were not there and a remark was about to leave your mouth until again you were interrupted, by Kakyoin this time. “Ah (Y/N) you know we can’t protect you from danger if we’re not out there with you right?, we’d be heartbroken if something happened to you and we couldn’t stop it” He seemed to upset himself with his own words as his grip on you tightened while speaking, nearly leaving you breathless.

Jotaro nodded in agreement and walked over to the bed pulling you into his lap as he sat down. You couldn't help but snuggle into his hold, the lingering scent of cologne making you relax and hum happily. You look up at the stoic man and bring your lips up to meet him in a passionate kiss which he eagerly accepts, moving your lips together in sync he lets out a happy hum. You break away from the kiss and look up to see a slight flush on Jojo’s face 

“Can I have a kiss too sweetheart?” Kakyoin asks from beside you, rubbing his hand lightly down your back.

You nod vigorously, quickly reaching over to your other boyfriend and giving him the same treatment as Jojo. Kakyoin's kisses were softer than Jotaro’s more gentle and romantic. He held your face in his hands as if it were made of glass that could easily shatter.

After stopping the kiss he pulls your head into his shoulder, holding your head there tightly so you are unable to move. You had no choice but to soak in the warmth his body had to offer.

Suddenly your phone goes off with a loud ping, indicating that you had received a text message. Your eyes widened in surprise, shit the plan, you had almost forgotten. “No no no, (F/N) wasn’t supposed to text me, now they’re definitely gonna find out I tried to escape” You panicked inwardly.

You’re about to yank yourself away from Kakyoin’s tight grip on your body and grab your phone before they could see who had messaged you but unfortunately, Jotaro was quicker, he had already snatched your phone from the bedside table before you even had the chance to fully break out of Kakyoin’s hold and was already reading the text message from (F/N).

He analyses the phone for a few seconds before speaking. “Are you okay? You were supposed to meet me at the school gates twenty minutes ago, Did they catch you?” Jotaro quotes from the message trying but failing to contain his anger. He gives you a fierce look and without warning he crushes your phone with his bare hands, shattering it along with your hopes of a successful escape in the near future.

Kakyoin frowns at this, his delicate features turning into an unpleasant look. “Were you trying to leave us (Y/N)?” He said in a disappointed tone. It makes your skin crawl. A disappointed Kakyoin was always a lot harder to deal with than an angry one. He has a way of making you feel guilty where your stomach would crawl in shame, even though the rational part of you knew that it wasn’t right.

You look up and catch Jotaro’s gaze and see a hint of rare emotion in his eyes . He actually looks hurt that you tried to leave them? You let out an involuntary whimper of guilt for hurting both your boyfriends feelings. “I’m sorry Nori, Jojo” You say rushing over to give the taller man a hug. “I swear I was gonna come back, I just wanted to go out for a little bit and see (F/N) I haven’t seen them in weeks”.Jotaro sighs from above you, beginning to rub soothing circles on your back to calm you down. He was incredibly angry that you tried to leave but he couldn't stand to see you upset and never wanted you to be afraid of him like everyone else was.

“Just please don’t do it again (Y/N), we would’ve freaked out if something happened to you next time just talk to us and we’ll be happy to bring you where you want to go” spoke Kakyoin, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, a cheery smile returning to his face.

You nod your head slowly, eyelids beginning to droop in exhaustion as the adrenaline from earlier began to wear off and tiredness set in. Seeing this, Jotaro gently picked you up and placed you in the middle of the bed, joining you on your left side with Kakyoin laying down on your right side, keeping you pressed tightly against the two of them.

“Oh (Y/N)? One more thing before you go to sleep” The redhead spoke seriously next to you.

“What is it?” You mumbled out in your tired state.

“If you ever try to escape us again, we’ll break your legs”

[d3a7h]

𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader

Part 1. | This is a series :D

Warnings: Language, Guns/Shooting, Blood, Mentions of abuse, Violence, Mentions of drugs. Teen preg.

Word count: 2140

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𝚈/N,𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

The moment your mother and father decided to have unprotected sex was the day your life would end up beginning well nine months later anyway. Neither of your parents were ready for a kid, your father was charged with two counts of first-degree murder two weeks after finding out your mom was pregnant. Even when she knew she was pregnant she used, she started to use triple of whatever she could get her hands on hoping it would kill the thing growing inside of her. It didn't work.

The thought of you being taken and her going to jail led her to give birth to you in her living room. You grew up with her bringing around random men and always being on something. She had the great idea of selling you off to these men when one of them announced his interest in you.

Having you finally seemed to be a good thing in her eyes, it got her money that she could use to buy more stuff. You grew up not remembering anything from previous days, the same vicious cycle. It was too much.

Now being eight years old your mother gave you a new job, she stumbled out of her room tripping over stuff that was all over her floor. She made her way to you before bending down to your height, she ruffled your hair before making sure you were paying attention to her.

"I need you to go to an apartment for me, you know how men come here sometimes? Would you be such a good girl for mommy and go help?" She coaxed you into saying yes before explaing how to get to his apartment, she pushed you out of the door with a small backpack. You repeated the directions to yourself as you looked down at your feet taking small steps not wanting to go but not wanting to upset mother.

Once you got to the apartment you knocked a few times on the door. A man opened the door letting you inside, he led you further into his apartment and you couldn't help but drown your mind in happy thoughts. You never liked when these things would happen but you didnt know how to get out.

———————————————————————

I sat in a room with two older men, one shirtless and the other staring me down. I heard the door being kicked in before a voice yelled out, 'Chicago PD.' This caused the two to scramble, one telling me to keep quiet. The other one walked out of the room, I was unsure of what he was going to try to do.

Multiple gun shots went off causing me to jump, the guy pointed a gun at me and I closed my eyes out of fear.

I wanted to cry, I wanted to plead, I didn't want to be shot. I couldn't muster up tears how was I supposed to talk him out of not shooting me. As soon as he saw the other man's body drop in front of the doorway he put a bullet in mine before running to the window and jumping out of it. I let out a scream as I inhaled sharply, tears flooding my eyes, I felt a hand be placed on me which caused me to kick and scream not knowing who it was and because it hurt.

"Hey hey, my name's Alvin, I am a cop, and I have to put pressure until the ambulance gets here." "I can't go, my mom, please." I begged him but he didn't give in, "You need to, I can't let you go home just yet." I started to see white and black dots, my eyes getting so much heavier than they had been a few seconds ago. "Hey kid, stay with me, hey, you can't stop fighting yet. Stay strong." I heard him say but I couldn't do it, I shut my eyes.

———————————————————————

I woke up to beeping surrounding me. I quickly opened my eyes, but just as quickly shut them again regretting that decision as the lights blinded me. I felt pain radiating through my body and I tried to groan, but no sound came out. After a few minutes of laying there trying to gather my thoughts I slowly opened my eyes blinking quickly as I tried to adjust to the bright light. I groaned again this time hearing the sound successfully come out. I turned my head to look around the room. I was welcomed by the sight of a guy I did not know, it was oddly comforting though.

"Hi" I croaked out and he gave me a soft smile sitting up in his seat. "Hey little one, my name's Hank, what's yours?" I shook my head, "Momma said I can't say nothing to no cops," I told him and he nodded his head. "Well, then how am I supposed to get you back to your momma when you are all better?" "Drop me off in the neighborhood you found me in, I'll make sure I get home, I'm always walking around there." "You shouldn't be at such a young age." "Not telling a cop no more, please leave." He nodded and placed a card on the table beside me.

Deep down I really didn't want him to leave, hell he was the only one who showed up for me to wake up, but he was a cop, momma would rip me a new one if I talked to him.

Later that day I snuck out of my bed, it hurt so much but I had to get back to my mother, I found a stack of clothes that fit me and changed into them putting the gown on the bed. I saw the card he put down and shrugged grabbing it and stuffing it into my boot. I snuck out of the window as careful as I could and sort of ran off through the woods. I could barley breath, my chest hurt so much, I know I shouldnt have gotten out of that bed but I was so scared of my mother I didnt care. I knew my way around most of Chicago, it was my home, and I walked around a lot. I soon got back to my home and walked inside being met with a slap from my mother.

"You let my money walk away and you come back late! How dare you?!" My mom yelled at me and I stood up straight making sure I didn't look at her. She hated how much I looked like my father. "I got shot, momma," I stated simply before walking past her and to my room. I heard my mother groan from the living room before a crash. I heard the fridge door open and slam close knowing she was drinking. I slid into my covers and drifted to sleep.

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𝚂𝚒𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚍

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A man I did not know got me pregnant at age thirteen. A man who bought time to sleep with me from my own mother got me pregnant. Why was I not surprised? Korren, my son, was now three, I thought I was going to hate him when he was born because I didn't like how he was made. That turned out to be an entire lie, I loved Korren with my entire heart, that little guy was everything I ever wanted.

And yet my mom still gave him away to the alleged father. Told me I have to worry about getting her money, not a kid. How sweet of her.

"You have a job, here." My mom gave me a piece of paper before she fell onto the couch falling asleep. I rolled my eyes and got up from the floor where I had been sitting, I grabbed my bag and walked out of the door. I opened the paper and like every other time, it was an address. I took a deep breath and began walking; I walked everywhere, no matter how far it was.

As I was walking I saw the 21 district station, I stood there for a second wishing I could make it there but I knew I couldn't. I hoisted my bag up before walking again, picking up the pace as I reached the house. I knocked on the door and waited for an answer, a man opened the door and asked for my name. "Hayley." I showed him the paper of his address and he let me in. He handed me a stack of cash and I put it in my bag. I put my bag down and turned to him telling him he could do whatever he wanted to me now. If he went over his time he had to pay extra.

After a few hours I climbed out of his bed, the man was asleep now. I grabbed money from his bedside table and left his room stuffing it in my bag. I picked it up and walked out of his house quickly walking back the way I came, I reached the station again and saw a kid standing there looking up at it.

I walked around him but I guess I caught his eye, he caught up to my side. "I am Jay, I have never seen you around before." "I am not telling you my name, I don't live around here, came to do a job, bye now," I said before turning down an alley between buildings and taking a shortcut.

That wasn't the only time I would meet jay, a few weeks later I was found in his neighborhood. I was walking around randomly this time, I had gotten around here early so the man wasn't home for me. Jay saw me and approached me, "Stalking me now?" He asked and I tilted my head. "Wouldnt it be you stalking me?" I asked and crossing my arms.

"You are in my neighborhood, so I don't think so," he said and I rolled my eyes. "I am doing a job, so therefore I am not stalking, I was told to come here. That house." I pointed and he furrowed his brows, "He's. Wait what job?" "What's it to you?" "He's a weird guy." "I get money and my mom doesn't get mad so I don't get a choice." "How much?" "This guy, in particular, is paying two hundred for two hours, why?" "I'll get you the money, come with me?" "Promise me money?" "Promise."

-

I was sitting on his bed with him a few feet in front of me in a chair, he faced me and began to speak. "Please tell me your name. I want to get to know you." Something about those words and his face made me want to tell him everything.

Over the months it seemed that I did in fact tell him everything, everything that I could remember.

He convinced me to go to the cops about it.

-

I rummaged through my closet and found a small box, I opened it and found Hank's card. It was in my boot from the day I got shot, I never wore those shoes after that day, I couldn't. I quickly folded it put it in my bra and stood back up kicking the stuff back into the closet.

My mom opened the door throwing a piece of paper at me before going into the bathroom. I rolled my eyes before grabbing the paper and walking out of the apartment, I took a deep breath before walking downstairs.

I felt my feet hit the concrete after the stairs and I took off running, I didn't stop until I got into Jay's neighborhood, I saw his house and shook my head not slowing down. I opened the district's doors climbed the stairs and saw the desk at the front. I felt fear take over, and I backed up, I couldn't do it.

"Are you okay?" I heard someone's voice causing me to jump slightly as I looked over, almost snapping my neck at how fast I looked. "Oh uh, no." "Let's bring you to Trudy, she's harmless, especially with younger people, I promise."

He brought me towards the desk, "Sergeant, hello. I found her at the stairs, she said she wasn't okay, thought she would want to talk to you out of anyone."

He walked off as soon as she dismissed him and held out her hand to me, I took it shaking her hand. "I am Trudy, you are?" "Y/N." "Nice to meet you, Y/N. How may I help you?"

I let go of her hand reached into my shirt and pulled out the card placing it on her desk. She saw the name and she just nodded, she grabbed a phone calling the number. He showed up not too long after, I was surprised he even cared about me, a random sixteen-year-old he hasn’t seen in eight years. But now this meant you had to trust him, that was going to be hard.

[keysmashingfantasies]

Bloody Comfort

pre borderlands!Niragi x fem!reader / Niragi x fem!reader

A/N:  i feel like i only post Marvel on this blog and i missed my show so here it is, finally an AiB fic! :D also, minigame: how many alice in wonderland references can you spot? also also, bloody comfort is an awesome name for a band and if you do name your band that, i want my money. enjoy the fic! also also also i didn’t proofread SHIT so sorry for any grammar mistakes.

trigger warning: bullying, mentions of violence (nothing too graphic, i think but beware nonetheless), death (graphic. i mean, i’m not that good of a writer but still, beware), very slight mentions of nsfw, especially torwards the end, niragi (HE’S A WARNING OK), niragi having disturbing thoughts (what else is new. but fr, ok), sliiiiiight yandere niragi torwards the end. (also I tried not to describe in too much detail the bullying that niragi and the reader suffer in the fic so it wouldn’t be too sad). 

@dreamingofanisland here it is bestie! 

Niragi couldn’t pinpoint when he stopped being sad and when he started getting angry. From a suffocating hopelessness came a desperation he could only describe as feral. He often fantasized about just jumping over his desk and strangling each one of them to death but his thoughts quickly ended with Niragi envisioning himself being overpowered and beaten. He started to not only get angry at his bullies, but people in general. Things. Life.

How could so many people turn a blind eye? How could life be so unfair to give people like this the upperhand and not him? Not him that clearly deserved it? This world was backwards.

-

He knew he was fucked when he saw the bat, and although he braced for the impact he couldn’t help but fall to his knees and wince at the sickening sound that the baseball did in contact with his nose.

He just sat there and while all he wanted to do was to rip their throats with his teeth all he did was to endure a few more punches before they left with a promise that there would be more. He sat there trying not to cry with sheer frustration. His papers were scattered around, the left arm of his glasses was broken and his pristine black outfit was now covered in dust from the gravel, his hands scratched. He could taste blood on his tongue and he felt a sick satisfaction, pretending for one moment that it was another person’s blood he was tasting.

“Do you need help?”, a voice woke him from his violent daydreams. Suddenly everything boiled over and he felt an overwhelming anger rise inside of him. In a blink of an eye he was standing up, yelling at a somewhat blurry image of a girl who he towered over, even more as she shrunk under his anger. If he wouldn’t be so busy screaming profanities, he would be madly aroused.

“WHAT, HUH? CAME TO SEE THE SHOW? TO LAUGH AT ME?”, he was furious, and as he approached her, she proceeded to walk back.

“No. I just wanted to help”, she said. It seemed another flash and suddenly he could see a bit clearer. Although startled, she didn’t seem afraid of him, and was extending him a tissue. “Your nose is bleeding”, she said, and Niragi wanted to scoff at her for stating the obvious. But she was being kind. And as angry as he was, kindness wasn’t something that he could say no to. He tried his best to control his shaky hands as he took the tissue from her hands and carefully dabbed his nose, as she ducked to collect his papers, and tuck them back into his bag.

“Saw what they did to you. ‘m sorry”, she mumbled. Niragi wanted to strangle her out of sheer embarrassment.

“And you just took some popcorn and enjoyed the spectacle?”, he spat.

“I wanted to help but I wasn’t sure what to do. Would you rather if I had called someone?”, she asked. He breathed once, twice. She wasn’t mocking him, but was unnervingly calm. Something about her being calm while he was practically foaming at the mouth had him seeing red and suddenly he regret having wiped the blood off of his lips.

“No”, he said, calmly. “No, I wouldn’t. Sorry. I have to go”, he said, ripping his bag from her hands with such force that he tugged her arm with it.

“Wait! I mean what I said! I want to help!”

“You, help me? What are you going to do, huh? Be my bodyguard?”, he mocked her one more time. He couldn’t help himself, his brain got used to this. Fight or flight. His adrenaline was pumping and everytime he was around school grounds he looked over his shoulder.

“Hmmm, sorta? Not exactly but I could show you a place. A safe place”, she said. He just looked at her.

“If we get there and it’s a prank of some sort I’ll let you punch me. Square in the face”, she said.

“Are you insane? You just go around letting people punch you in the face?”, his mouth was quicker than his brains and suddenly he felt his face grow hot at the irony of what he had said. But if she noticed it, she didn’t mention.

“Let me help you”, she said.

And he did.

He followed her through a wooded area near the school grounds after walking through a hole in a fence.

He was getting ready to beat you to the punch and hit you so hard that you’d bleed as hard as he did, until you stopped until you reached a very underwhelming toolshed with a padlock.

“We’re here”, you said, and he realized that she sounded different. All this time she was on edge. ‘Of course, Suguru, you threatened the girl like, 3 times’, said the voice in the back of his head. She pulled a key from her bag and the padlock opened easily and they heavy chains fell to the ground and she pushed open the door, going inside. He hesitantly followed.

The inside is nothing as he thought it would be. For starters, it was surprisingly clean and  it didn’t smell bad. And instead of tools and brooms and leafblowers, it had bean bags, blankets, a table with a radio full of knickknacks in the corner and a chair that had clearly seen better days but looked comfortable none the less. The girl walked to a corner of the room and his eyes followed her as she closed the door, which had small sharpie drawings on it. She reached for a white box and settled it on the floor between the two bean bags, and reached inside a very small thermos to pull out an artificially blue isotonic drink and settled it down too. Then from the plastic bag he previously assumed was trash, she pulled a bag of chips.

She then patted the bean bag next to hers. “Welcome to my clinic”, she said, placing the white box on her lap.

-

After an entire afternoon of bonding over unhealthy food and an impromptu first aid rescue, Niragi learned that her name was Y/N, she was a year below and that this little world she created was her refuge from the girls in her class that picked on her.

“I found this and decided that it would be nice. No one’s using it, it’s far from everything. It’s on the Beheaded Woman’s territory”.

Niragi heard the rumors through his bullies. “One day we’ll drag you to the Beheaded Woman’s woods and fucking kill you”.  After further investigation, he learned that allegedly a girl was dragged through the woods and beheaded with a blunt axe.

“I made the rumors up. I had to make sure no one would find my safe haven”, she explained. “And once you write something in the girls’ bathroom stall, there’s no turning back. It’s out there and it’s truth”, she sighed. “I would know”.

He wasn’t the most up to date in all the gossip but she told him her story. The rumors they spread, the things they did to her. She almost seemed amused. He in turn told her his story. By the end of it, he could kill someone. She then offered him the other key to her safe haven.

“You can decorate it too. Don’t tell anyone else and make sure to lock it after you use it. Use it as much as you want, just make sure they don’t follow you, okay?”

He took the keys with shakey hands, a knot on his throat. Another type of adrenaline was pumping through his veins. When a few moments ago there were a fast white heat, coursing through him like an electric current, this was slow and almost overwhelmingly warm, like molten lava.

“Why are you doing this? Being so nice to me?”, he whispered as if it was a secret, as if this moment was another fantasy, a deer that’s easily spooked. He had fantasized about this too. A safe haven, an ally. A friend.

“Because we’re the same, you and I”.

-

You hated him. You hated him with a burning passion. What was at first an act of pity, born from the empathy you felt by seeing someone go through what you did, quickly became a friendship and like a disease, it spread to beyond your safe haven. You would spend your free time together, walk home together. You became friends. And what did he do? Exactly what he told you he would.

“Sometimes don’t you wish to disappear?”, he whispered to you once.

“Yeah. Like, run away? Yeah, I do”, you replied agreeing with him.

 ‘You’re the only one that understands me. We really are the same’, he would say. What at the beginning of your budding crush on him gave you butterflies on the stomach now made you want to throw up.

You lost your only friend. You despised the sound of music now, because every single song you heard, you shared with him. For the same reason, you didn’t enjoy your favorite movies anymore. Your bullies banded together to target you. And the worst part of all, is that you couldn’t even care. There was no silver lining anymore.

“Don’t you get furious?! Don’t you want to hurt them, make them pay?”, he said as he watched you apply concealer to a bruised cheek.

“I mean, I get angry but I try my best to not let it get to me. It’s what they want. I despise those people, I can’t get in a funk because of them”, you said nonchalantly.

But you had loved him. And now you felt like even moving around was an herculean task, like you were almost dead trying to get to safety. But there was no safety anymore.

Ironically, you started to understand him more and more after he disappeared. The anger, the hatred. How could anyone just follow their lives? When there’s people like you just suffering through yours?

Suguru Niragi was an illness, a parasite. He carved his way under your skin and into your heart, laid eggs of his hate on your veins and sucked you dry of your life’s essence. Then, after you were a shell of a human, he disappeared out of thin air, leaving you alone. Leaving you with those people. Leaving you to die.

And you were still in love with him.

-

You thought you were finally insane when it happened.

The streets were empty. Absolutely no one. You wondered for a moment if you felt so alone that your mind convinced itself that that’s exactly what had happened, if any moment now you would be locked in an insane asylum for running around and screaming until you throat got raw.

It took you two games to understand what was going on. You made sure to change clothes. Running shoes, leggings and a warm hoodie that you never let the hood down. You decided to significantly shorten your hair after you saw a man pull a young girl by the ponytail in a spades game. You loaded a backpack with food and bottles of water, anything you could find. And an axe that you took from an emergency box from the building you slept in.

It was on your 5th game that it happened. You saw people die in these games, but none of it was hands on for you. You just watched your back and hoped to win and let whoever was running this show take care of the rest. Honestly, you didn’t even wait to know if anyone even survived. You were done doing that.

When you got there, there were five people already. They banded together and whispered amongst themselves as you passed them by and grabbed a phone. Probably just a group of friends that got stranded at the same time and decided to stay together. You clutched you axe harder.

You didn’t even realize that you had zoned out until you heard hollering and four guys heavily armed walked you by. Where the fuck did they get guns? One of them let out a boisterous laugh that reminded you of someone that you wanted desperately to forget. You couldn’t even get over him during fucking Saw? That sound made your skin crawl.

Registration closed, said the mechanic voice. Difficulty: 8 of clubs. The first 5 players will be the first team and the last 5 players will be the second. One team must eliminate the others without losing any players. Both teams will be identified by the color of your screen, and will have one minute to hide.

You saw the armed guys’ screens light up red. You sighed in relief as yours did too. You made sure to keep your head down and thank whoever that not killing teammates was a part of the rules. They seemed amused and absolutely calm, and the guy with the rifle laughed again. You were shaking by now.

When the minute started, everyone bolted in different directions. You didn’t even look back to see if your teammates had accompanied you but by the sound of your footsteps crushing leaves, you were alone. You decided to go back after a while, looking around. A lamppost. Huh, lamppost it is. You leaned against the cool metal and focused on the silence. The minute had ended but they were still hunting. You didn’t come across anyone, which was good. After a while, all you could hear were distant gunshots.

You looked to the floor, only to see a shadow approaching you quick. You barely had time to dodge before a man hit you behind the head with a rock. You reacting made him lose his balance, falling to the floor and letting go of the rock. You looked at him. It was one of the boys from the other team. He had on a white button up blouse and a black hoodie. His hair had fallen over his brown eyes and he looked so scared and so alone.

This will have to do.

You didn’t stop, suddenly lifting the axe and bringing it down was like an automatic thing.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU! HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME? AFTER ALL I’VE DONE FOR YOU! YOU ABANDONED ME IN A MINUTE, LEFT ME ALONE IN THAT HELL!”

You didn’t stop when he started praying and then screaming. You didn’t stop when he started bleeding profusely or when the strength of your movements made your hood slide down from your head. You didn’t stop when his head got detached from his body and if you weren’t so angry, you would’ve listened tfootsteps. You didn’t stop until you had made mincemeat out of his face. Just for the sheer audacity of reminding you of him.

He looked at you from afar while you looked at the body of the boy whose skull you just had destroyed, a maniac, victorious smile on your face. You were pretending the boy was him. You really thought he had abandoned you? He would be absolutely heartbroken if he wasn’t so aroused. That’s what he always wanted to see, the instincts that you tried to push down. You were right, you were both the same. He wanted to lick that blood off of you, use it as lube to take you right there. When he first arrived at the Borderlands, when he first killed someone and liked it, he thought you would be disgusted by him. But look at you now. You were here, perfect for him, soaked in blood, feral. He’s never been so hard.

“Y/N”, he said.

“Niragi?,” you said. He ran to you, held you even when you fought back, even when you screamed bloody murder that you were going insane, begging to die already, even when you passed out on his arms. He licked a drop of blood from your neck.

“Let me take you to our safe haven”, he whispered against your skin.