#Tin Marin
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tangcheong animatic attempt because they drive me crazy
#had this marinating in my wip folder for over a month#biting the shame bullet and posting it lol#tangchung#tangcheong#tang bo#chung myung#rotmhs#rotbb#return of the blossoming blade#return of the mount hua sect#animatic#tin draws#reposting bc i just realized that the one i posted redirected people to youtube instead of watching it here mb hahaha
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Sketch concept that might become a fully rendered piece
(Also sorry quality is crap)
#sso#starstable#soul steeds#Concorde#Starshine#Meteor#Tin-Can#I was thinking of making everyone’s magical form be either a Pegasus or Unicorn depending on their circles theme#Concorde is a Pegasus cause duh he/she’s always been one and it just makes sense since portal hopping = reliable transportation#Starshine is also a unicorn because also duh he’s always sort of been one (as per the statue) but also healing is most commonly associated#with unicorns#Meteor and Tin Can got the short end of the stick#so I bestowed them both with wings and horns#Meteor is a unicorn because knowledge and future vision is also associated with ��wise’ unicorns#Tin Can is a Pegasus since the lightning circle is kind of associated with the sky since thunder = clouds = sky#might change the designs along the way who knows#might marinate in my wips
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(California) Abalone!
Made it so that the video doesn’t send you to Instagram, hehe…
Music: Island in the Sun - Weezer
#fish#marine biology#ocean#abalone#sea#marine life#sea life#sea snail#tinned fish#ocean facts#mollusk#marine facts#California abalone#haliotis#haliotidae
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When a poll says something like "what is prev vibes like?" or "assign prev a magic being", prev refers to the blog of the post previous to that one or to the person who reblogged that poll before you?
#how am i supposed to know which one is?#sometimes i do de tin marin de do pingüe and choose one#but i don't know which one is the one you mean
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Kevin Costner as gold pro Roy McAvoy and Cheech Marin as Romeo Posar, his caddy, in Tin Cup (1996). Cheech was born Richard Marin in Los Angeles, and has 161 acting credits from a 1973 video for Basketball Jones, his first feature, with his comedy partner Chong, in Up in Smoke (1978), to a 2023 episode of The Muppets Mayhem. His entry among my best 1001 movies is Cars (as the voice of Ramon).
His other notable credits include Cheech and Chong's Next Movie, Nice Dreams, Still Smokin, Cheech and Chong's The Corsican Brothers, Born in East LA, a voice in Oliver and Company, Ghostbusters II, The Lion King (the voice of Banzai the Hyena), Desperado, Spy Kids (and three sequels), 120 episodes of Nash Bridges, 20 episodes of Judging Amy, Grindhouse, Cars 2 and 3, and a voice in Coco.
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TSRNOSS, p 578.
#marine crustaceans#arsenic#lead#achlorhydria#fluoride poisoning#venoms#fluorine content of seafood#copper poisoning#salmonella#eggshell#fingernails#tinned food#DNA polymerase#DNA repair#zinc content of the sea urchin#deadly nightshade#Atropa belladonna#foxglove#digitalis#cytoplasm#thixotropic gel#cytoplasmic streaming#mussels
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Fandom: Link's Awakening
Summary: The first thing she remembers is standing before the egg, staring at the sea. Or: Marin and the Wind Fish, in three acts and an epilogue.
Wordcount: 1,520
#marin#marin loz#loz#link's awakening#my posts#my writing#normally i do a little 'contains' section that describes the fic more informally but with a lil more detail#to give ppl a better idea of what's going on#but i'll be honest idk how to describe this one other than 'heavily symbolic character study of marin'#which is basically exactly what is says on the tin anyway
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frozen like an angel
Eddie Munson x shy!Reader holiday edition.
foreword: ohhhh I’ve missed them!!! and you all!!!! happy holidays to those who celebrate, and for those who don’t, have a cozy winter fic <3 here is the masterlist for shy!reader, some references may be made to previous fics in the series but no beforehand reading required here.
cw: Christmas activities, bittersweet fluff, Elizabeth Munson memories, mentions of Reader’s familial backstory (intentionally a bit vague, hoping to expand in future fics!)
wc: 2.8k
___
You’re not even trying to snoop- the paper flutters to the carpet all on its own, freed from the stack of Eddie’s notebooks you’d lifted to dust under.
Expecting it to be something D&D related, you scoop it from the carpet with the intent to slip it back between the leaves of a random book- when the title catches your eye. In neat, looping black ink across the top: Christmas Apple Cake.
There’s a pencil-drawn sketch of an apple in the top corner, faded and yellowed with time like the paper it’s on; your thumb runs over it as you scan the ingredients.
This’ll be perfect, actually- Wayne is coming over tonight for holiday drinks with you and Eddie, a Munson family tradition that’s included you the last six or so years, and you haven’t sorted dessert yet.
The recipe is simple- a hearty, apple-filled spiced cake base, brown sugar glaze to pool on top. After hunting through the kitchen cupboards (sometimes it’s glaringly apparent you live in a former bachelor pad- the baking soda sourced from under the sink and a layer of dust), you get to work baking.
A pound of apples is peeled and diced, meticulously, to the tune of a Bing Crosby record- Eddie bemoans the cheesier aspects of holiday music, so you get your fill while he’s at work (though you’ve caught him humming along to White Christmas on more than one occasion).
Not that either of you need the money after the generous nest-egg from various government agency pay-offs, but the part-time mechanic schedule has been good for Eddie. Wayne’s pretty much set to take over when the garage owner retires next year, and Eddie is happy to help- keeps his mind and hands busy, sorely needed after so much recovery downtime.
And you’ve been busy, too- the apples are set to soak in cold water while you prep the batter, thinking of post-winter break classes already. You passed your first end-of-term exams with flying colors, like Eddie knew you would- never mind that they were all 101s, and that your college plans seem a little directionless- at least you’re moving. Able to do something other than waiting to get better.
Eddie’s proud of you, deeply so. That’s really all that matters for now.
With the batter mixed, you lift handfuls of apple chunks from the water to dry on the rows of flat kitchen towels. There’s a burst of static from the living room speakers; you flick water from your hands and cross swiftly to flip the record to its B-side.
Let It Snow! rings out cheerily while you stir the apples bit by bit into the batter, Deck the Halls by the time you’re pouring the mixture into a greased baking tin. After twisting the counter timer to tick down for an hour, you clean the kitchen in good spirits.
Eddie will be home, soon- Wayne’s closing up shop, which gives his nephew plenty of time to beat him home and cook you all dinner. There’s a tender strip of beef marinating in the fridge with something Eddie referred to yesterday, ominously, as “Grinch Juice”. (The pale green of the sauce is likely due to the rosemary. You think.)
Eddie’s got the meal covered, regardless. (Plus there are always frozen pizzas to fall back on.)
The air swells with warmth from the oven, taking on a sugared, nutmeg and applesauce smell; the little window over the sink fogs over with sweet steam, making the white-snow world outside look even dreamier. Lights twinkle from the front banister, winking at the strip of sister lights across the path at the Mayfield’s door.
Plucking behind your back to loose your apron strings, you realize- for the first time in years, it feels like Christmas. Last year, you were all still learning how to be human, still nursing wounds (both external and in), stepping cautiously onto the thin ice of what it means to survive and be alive.
This year, though? You’re out in the middle of the frozen pond of life making snow angels. Ice skating over the bumps. Twirling around hand-in-hand with Eddie as you both figure it out, together.
Later, the front door creaks open then slams shut, a rhythmic thump of boots shedding snow onto the hall mat. From your vantage point on the couch- sock feet tucked underneath your body to keep warm, dog-eared Tolkien in your lap- you see Eddie before he sees you.
His back is turned as he toes off his work boots, hunched against the cold still in a hand-me-down winter coat of Wayne’s. Stray curls escape the half-up bun of his dark hair, twisting around his face, which lights up with a smile when he sees you.
“Well, well, well,” Eddie says, adopting a faux-serious, low tone as he hangs up his coat and shakes the snow from his hair. “Looks like we got an escapee from Santa’s Workshop.”
You snort, setting the book aside to roll your eyes fondly- if a red flannel shirt and jeans spells elf, you’re willing to play the part.
Eddie approaches with menacing intent, grin so wide the corner of his lip meets the line of scarring at his cheek.
He’s still in his work coveralls, pinstriped and oil-stained; Eddie leans his weight into his hands on either side of your head, close enough to bump noses, couch emitting a squeak of protest.
You flick at the embroidered patch over Eddie’s heart, the one that currently reads JERRY. “Someone’s been naughty today.”
Eddie clicks his tongue, dark brows pulling together in his best approximation of someone who is very sorry. “Yeah. Guess so. You gonna tell the Big Boss on me?”
”Wouldn’t dream of it,” you sigh, tired of playing, ready to loop your arms around Eddie’s neck and kiss him silly (an action he’s more than willing to give in to).
He tastes like sharp mint, and faintly of the cigarette he probably had on break; Eddie mumbles something between kisses and you pull back just enough to hear him say, “You taste sweet.”
“Mmhm. Had to make sure the batter wasn’t poisoned,” you reply, more concerned with dotting kisses along the line of scar that disappears behind his jaw.
Against your temple, Eddie’s lashes flutter in surprise- “You baked something?”
Pulling away fully now (with one last parting kiss to his forehead), you narrow your eyes as you shift to hold his shoulders at arm’s length- “Does me baking come as a shock to you?”
“No!” Eddie says, quickly, brows lowering from where they’d shot up just a second ago. “No, of course not. You just don’t usually… I mean, I like being the one in the kitchen.”
”I know you do.” Your hands trail to cup his elbows, briefly, before you disentangle yourself to check on the oven. The timer is just about to shriek its warning chorus- with a twist of your hand, it dings pleasantly instead. “I wanted to make something special for our Christmas dessert tonight. Hopefully it’s not actually poisoned.”
Based on the delicious smell that wafts from the oven, you’ve got nothing to fear- the tines of your testing fork come out from the middle of the cake clean, a pair of mitts snagged to pull it out and set on the stove.
Clouds of steam rise from the fresh pastry, spiced and golden under the overhead lights- it smells like Christmas in a pan. Eddie approaches to watch over your shoulder, his hand steady on your low back as you explain the glaze that needs to be made next- he takes a lungful of fragrant air, and then his hand stills.
Eddie isn’t in the habit of interrupting you, so it’s strange when he does, voice sounding strained as he stumbles through the start of a few different sentences. “How did you- this is- that’s apple cake. My mom’s apple cake. What…”
It must be the smell, transporting him back, and for a moment, your heart sinks. Eddie hasn’t had a flashback in so long; the last one was months ago over the summer when a car backfired and sent his mind spiraling for hours after.
You turn in his arms, speaking carefully, ready to soothe- “Shit. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, honestly, the recipe just fell out when I was moving your things, and I-”
Eddie’s eyes are brimming with tears when he interrupts you again- this time, to kiss you; there’s a slip of his tear that tracks down your own cheek as you kiss him back.
He’s holding you, now, mirroring you from earlier, thumbs squeezing at the inside of your elbows, forehead resting in a slow roll against yours as he shakes his head in disbelief. “Don’t apologize. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I didn’t know… I didn’t think any recipes of hers survived the move from Tennessee.”
“It was in one of your old journals,” you murmur, reaching to wipe the wet track of tears from his face even as he moves to do the same for you. “Did your mom used to make this for you?”
“Yeah.” Eddie laughs, wetly, kisses the palm of your hand where it rests against his face. “Every Christmas until I was five or so. Got the recipe from her mom, some Appalachian tradition. Wayne would know better than me.”
Eddie’s looking at the cake again, a familiar hazed-over stare that makes your heart hurt in sympathy, memories flooding back in at an overwhelming degree. You’re quiet for a few moments, pressing your face into the side of Eddie’s coveralls, letting him find his footing before asking, quietly- “Wanna help me make the topping?”
In another life, you and Eddie would run a mean kitchen together- years of learning the distinct ways in which the other moves comes in handy when you need to share cooking duties.
He ducks under your arm effortlessly to grab vanilla while you whisk the sugars and butter, adds splashes and dashes of things to your bowl periodically until the mulled glaze is formed.
The top of his (Jerry’s) coveralls were shoved down earlier, your help enlisted to tie the long sleeves around his waist in a makeshift apron; good thing your boy runs hot- means he’s comfortable enough to cook in a white cutoff undershirt that’s thin as a napkin. Underneath, Eddie’s all alabaster, lean muscle, black ink tattoos dancing with the corded ripples of scar tissue as he flits around the kitchen.
Between getting the steak ready to sear, and tasking you with prepping the hill of potatoes, Eddie talks about his mother- holidays of years past floating to the forefront on a wave of recollected smell.
Along with Tennessee apple cake, Elizabeth Munson would wrap chestnuts in tin foil to roast low and slow in the embers of a Christmas fire. One year, she penny-pinched enough to buy part of the neighbor’s turkey for her and then-five-year-old Eddie.
You soak up all these memories, asking questions periodically, immersed in Eddie’s storytelling. It’s rare to hear Elizabeth’s name, and you wonder, suddenly, if that could be changed.
“You know, I really like hearing about her,” you tell Eddie gently, after a gleeful retelling of the time she crashed his sled into the big stump of maple at the edge of their woods. You give the chopped potatoes on your cutting board a push, and they tumble into Eddie’s proffered bowl. “If there’s something I can do, to help… I dunno, make it easier to bring her up- you’d let me know. Right?”
Eddie considers this as he gathers jars from the narrow spice cupboard, lining them up in a neat row. “Yeah. Thanks, sweetheart. And it’s not… you’re easy to talk to. It’s just hard, sometimes, to learn how to remember her.”
You nod, thoughtful, watching him layer spices and olive oil into the bowl; he uses a wooden spoon to make sure all the potato sides are coated before saying, “And sometimes, it feels downright braggy. I got six whole years with her- most all of ‘em good ones- it’s not something I take for granted. And your mother-”
Eddie cuts himself off, abruptly, knuckles glistening with oil as they tighten into fists. Something inside you wilts, stretches desperately for its light source; you budge up under Eddie’s arm, place a hand to the middle of his chest where his breaths meet you with a shuddery kickstart.
“I know. But you were a kid too, Eddie. Six is just a kid.”
He does his best to hug you back with one arm as your nose seeks the notch behind his ear, a perfect fit, enveloping your senses as you breathe in the spot that smells most like him. “You can share however much or however little you want, of her, with me. Just ‘cuz my parents sucked doesn’t mean I don’t wanna hear about your one good one. Let me live vicariously, okay?”
You give Eddie a teasing little shake, a flash of teeth against his neck that has him chuckling, shaking off the anger before either of you can be derailed. The potatoes are moved to a baking sheet while Eddie preps the meat, and you send a river of brown sugar glaze over top the cake so it has time to cool.
If Wayne notes the missing piece from the corner of the dessert, later, he doesn’t mention it- the whiskey he’d brought over pairs perfectly with the rich, spiced cake.
One bite in and Wayne’s head turns, slow, to his nephew sat beside him. Without looking up from his spoonful of melting ice cream, Eddie nods. “Yup. Mom’s cake. Don’t look at me, though.”
Wayne blinks down at the bowl in front of him, then to you, like someone’s woken him from the middle of a dream. “Tastes just like how she used to make it.”
Were it possible to bottle and live off someone’s praise, you’d like to find a way; instead, you tuck the compliment away for a rainy day and give him a warm smile. “I’m glad. I’ll make it next year, too, if you want.”
After dinner (totally delicious despite Eddie’s best attempt to scare you both off with increasingly weird holiday-themed adjectives), Eddie pulls out his acoustic guitar to try his new capo, a gift from Uncle Wayne that’s immediately put to good use.
This autumn, on the same week you went to college for the first time, Eddie taught himself how to play guitar again. A year on from the attacks, his left hand was still stiff, a deep scar across the bridge of his abductor that made more dexterous movement near-impossible.
But your boy, smart and strong and determined, found a way. Eddie surprised you over Thanksgiving break with a cover of Fleetwood Mac’s Hypnotized, though with multiple false starts since both of you cried most of the way through it.
Less tears, this time around, but no less emotional- you steal glances under the pretense of wiping down the table as Eddie sits wide on the couch, black guitar propped on his knees while he adjusts the capo.
In a nearby armchair, Wayne takes a sip from his whiskey glass- at the first few notes of Edelweiss, his eyes slip closed, lost in memory.
“This was one of her favorites,” Eddie says to you, grinning while his fingers pluck the pattern smoothly.
You lean a hip against the table, wiping abandoned, taking in the gentle movement of Eddie’s hair, his arms, while he plays. He gets so lost in the music, sometimes- a soft look that usually only shows when he’s sleeping peacefully.
You wonder if Elizabeth looked the same, all those years ago- bent over her special Christmas cake, sneaking tastes on the back of a spoon to the set of dimpled hands that reached for her apron.
In your back pocket, the recipe card in her handwriting is tucked safely away. While Eddie plays, your fingers brush the outline of the pencil-etched apple, sending a prayer or a wish of some sort to the snow angel in your head.
He’s doing great. He’s so loved and cared for, with me. I hope you know I’m taking care of him. Merry Christmas. Thanks for the cake.
___
for more shy!Reader content: masterlist
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The 1979 Sand Dollar House is right on the bank of the Colorado River in Lakeway, TX. 3bds, 3ba, $1.99M.
Look at how that wall curves, it looks like a taco.
The front entrance is on the road in the back.
It looks like it's been freshly painted white inside and out.
There's the front door, and the entrance meanders through a very sculptural hall past columns, skylights, and cylinders.
A dining area against a long window with a view has a banquette attached to the wall.
On the other side of the terrace doors there's a living room.
It has a lovely modern fireplace.
Look at the large structure behind the fireplace, like an igloo.
The kitchen has several rounded walls and different areas. The bricks on the floor seem to form a path in front of the various stations, like "Follow the Yellow Brick Road."
The primary bedroom isn't terribly large, but it has a cute fireplace.
The rounded en-suite has a big round window and rounded counters and walls covered in a pretty teal mosaic tile.
Small secondary bedroom has a beautiful view.
Hall and sculptural stairs to the 2nd level.
The 3rd bedroom has a private terrace.
This en-suite has a corrugated tin shower and a rounded sink counter with nice tan mosaics.
Ground level seating under the terrace.
I'm surprised that there's no pool.
0.28 Acre lot
https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/819-Mariner-Lakeway-TX-78734/29358270_zpid/?
#unique homes#unusual homes#sculptural architecture#modern architecture#houses#house tours#home tour
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Finding Refuge.
Chapter One
Surrvivng a Zombie Apocalypse with Terry
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He was running low on tea bags.
His ever-changing eyes glanced over at a haphazardly placed calendar within the abandoned diner, red sharpie slashes his tally of keeping track of the days. How did things turn upside down in 204 days? A general assault on civilization.
The poorly placed charcoal-gray henley he wore was hanging on by a thread. The jeans that were once his favorite pair bore holes and debris on them. He’d salvaged an old pair of Doc Martens to keep his feet protected. Hands covered in fingerless gloves carefully wrapped around the tin mug before him. He puckered his lips to blow away some of the steam wafting from the mug before taking a tentative sip.
Terry Richmond was a survivor. The collapse of society around him pushed him harder. An ex marine having to use his skills every single day. How was it that the sky turned an almost sickly green? Like he was in the middle of Chernobyl. There wasn’t a place surrounding him that didn’t smell of death and despair. The screams and cries from those once whole became quieter as the year climbed to an end.
His sculpted jaw clenched and he closed his tired eyes for a few seconds. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had decent sleep. Traveling between the barricaded diner he’s currently sitting in alone and an old farm house in the middle of acres of land, he’s always on high alert. The faintest rustling woke him from a two minute nap. He was too afraid to start the pick-up truck he’d salvaged, not wanting those flesh-eating bastards to find him.
They’d already found his cousin.
Stop with those thoughts, he’s alive, Terry’s inner voice spoke.
In one day, the world succumbed to a pestilence that decimated the living. In its place rose a new species: vicious, gruesome, wandering zombies with an insatiable hunger for the living. What started out as a trip to Shelby Springs, turned into an apocalyptic nightmare. The world shut down. The money in a Kan Long Chinese bag wasn’t worth anything. Just thirty-six thousand dollars that can’t be used.
Terry remembered that day. It was a constant battle to keep the images from his mind. He remembered rushing into that hospital in Shelby Springs, carrying Summer in his arms, frantically asking for help while she bled out from a wound in her neck. In a matter of hours she changed. The once sweet, gentle woman he’d known turned into a monster. An undead beast. A ghoul with teeth bared, charging at him…
March 31st, 2024:
Terry’s hazel eyes popped open immediately at the sound of terror cries and pleading. His but felt numb from the hard surface of the chair he was sitting in within Summer’s room at the hospital. He shot up from his seated position, staring down at the vacant hospital bed. The tubing that was once attached to her arms, was dripping to the cold floor. His unblinking stare followed what appeared to be bloody footsteps towards the bathroom door that’s ajar.
Yellow light seeped through the crack of the door, and as Terry reached out to open it, more cries and hurried footsteps erupted again. He jerked his hand away, heading towards the door. Terry yanked it open, rushing into the chaos without hesitation. His head rotated from left to right and the imagery before him was something out of a movie. Staff were being charged and attacked by patients with a cannibalistic nature. Terry back-tracked into the room, stunned and confused.
“Summer…”
Creak…
Slowly, his head turned towards the bathroom door. There, standing within the doorway, looking like a corpse walking, was Summer. She looked as if she were rotting. Her bare feet shuffled closer, and there was this hungry look in her dark blue eyes. Terry stepped towards the door, keeping his eyes locked on her. Summer made snarling, sniffing noises and when she opened her mouth, blood poured down her chin.
“Wha–what the fuck?” Terry spoke with a hushed tone.
Suddenly, Summer charged him startling Terry when she clung onto his shirt. The force knocked Terry off his heels and they barged out into the hallway. The ruckus gained the attention of the others that looked like her, and they slowly made their way over. They were seemingly satisfied with their meals. Bodies lined the floor like an open graveyard.
“Get the fuck off me, Summer!”
Terry had to wrap his large hand around Summer’s frail neck. Disgust and disbelief washed over his face when he came into contact with her sunken flesh and blood. She smelled vile, and she looked exactly how a zombie would look in movies. Terry was sure that’s what Summer was now. A zombie. The walking dead. And with that knowledge, he didn’t care to hurt her. She wasn’t Summer anymore.
Terry shoved her away and sprinted down the hall, bumping past another zombie that tried to grab his arm. His heart throbbed in his chest and his feet propelled him forward as fast as he could run. Terry didn’t even allow the sliding doors to open fully before he barged out into the humid night. He made his way towards Summer’s Volkswagen, fumbling for her keys that he had within the pocket of his jeans. He frantically looked up with wide, terror-stricken eyes at the zombies in the hospital killing and spreading their virus.
Terry forced the driver’s side door open and climbed in quickly. Starting the engine, he reversed before making a tire–screeching turn, leaving the hospital behind. Out on the road, he bear witness to innocent blood being shed. Swerving, Terry maneuvered the car away from a few head–on collisions that came at him. The only thing on his mind was to stay alive and get his cousin. That’s what he came to do anyway. He sold his truck to help bail Mike out of jail so they could make an honest living for themselves.
Looks like that won’t ever happen.
Terry flew down the road towards the police station. Once there, he left the car and ran towards the entrance. From what it looked like, there was no police in sight. They were all out trying to figure out what was going on. Terry flung the doors open, the sound of landlines ringing off the hook. He took it upon himself to look for where they were holding Mike. Sweaty and pumped with adrenaline, Terry found himself deep within the station, surrounded by locked rooms that must have been used for interrogation.
“Mike! Yo! Mike!”
Terry started banging against the doors, unable to see inside of the rooms because of how tiny the plexiglass panel is. He was ready to give up and try Town Hall when the familiarity of his cousin’s voice led him towards the last room on the right. Relief washed over him as he jiggles the doorknob, finding it locked tight.
“Mike…you in there?!” Terry shouted.
“Terry? That you?! What’s going on?! How the fuck did you get back here past these cops?!”
“M…listen,” Terry had to catch his breath, “I’m gonna find a way to get this door down—”
“No you don’t, boy. Back away from the door…”
Terry froze. He cut his eyes towards an officer he hadn’t noticed. He had his weapon pointed at Terry’s head, ready to unload at any moment.
“Hands up! NOW!”
“Officer, I need you to listen—”
“I SAID HANDS UP! YOU LISTEN TO ME WHEN I’M TALKIN’ TO YOU!”
Terry pursed his full lips angrily, eyes glued to the door that separated him from his cousin. Slowly and reluctantly, Terry’s hands rose and he placed them on his head.
“Turn around…”
Terry dragged his feet, his built body shifting. He faced the officer, a white man of average height with ginger hair and a pudgy face. In Terry’s mind, he could do some long–lasting damage on this officer. He’s a veteran soldier who is torn over the loss of many. He can be cruel and both merciless, but instead he chooses to be the bigger man. He’d had enough of the crooked cops in this fucked up town. Sick of the insults and threatens.
“What ‘til the Chief sees this—”
“Do you want to die?”
The offer stared Terry down like he’d lost his mind saying those words to him.
“DO YOU? Looks like I’m the one with the gun. I’d choose my next words wisely…”
“You see,” Terry lowers his hands, eyes menacing, “I ain’t got time for another run–in with you mother fucka’s. Now, I’m assuming you have the keys to my cousin’s freedom. Open the door, or I’m a take them off you myself.”
“FUCK YOU—”
Terry charged, dodging a bullet to the chest and one strong, muscular arm close lined the officer, knocking the wind out of him and sending him flying. Terry hovered over him, one fist yoking him up by his vest and the other delivering a nose–crushing jab to the face. He yanked the gun from his grasp and placed it in his back pocket. He couldn’t afford to discharge his weapon. He was going to need it. There were bigger fish to fry.
“KEYS. Don’t make me repeat myself.” Terry barked out with rage lacing his deep baritone.
“Ba–back pocket,” The officer tried to form words through missing teeth.
Terry viciously turned the officer onto his stomach and he pat him down until he could feel the outline of the keys. He snatched them from his pocket and put his boot against his head to keep him still while cuffing him . The officer struggled, but he was no match for Terry’s strength.
Terry pressed his mouth to the officer’s ear, “Move again, and I’ll crack your head open on this floor.”
Terry pushed himself onto his feet and with heavy, profound breaths, he marched over to Mike’s door. Once opened, Mike shot up from one of the chairs, hands cuffed behind his back. None of the keys in Terry’s hands would uncuff Mike. Mike smiled at his cousin, and Terry wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly.
“Listen, Mike, look…there’s some shit goin’ on out there that ain’t got time to be explained. We gotta bounce…I’m serious cuz. We gotta go. Get far away from this fuckin’ town and fast—”
“What? What’s good? Cops on your ass? Why you here getting caught up in my mess, lil’ cuz—”
“You family. That’s it and that’s all. Now let’s go…”
“Okay, okay…what about,” Mike turned to show Terry his restrained hands.
��We’ll figure it out, come on!”
Terry shoved Mike towards the door and when they stepped out into the hall, Mike’s left foot flew into the officer’s side, causing him to whimper in pain. Terry had to give Mike another push to get him to focus.
Too late.
“Yo…Terry…you seeing this?”
Dread lined Terry’s features. Zombies. A group of them. Slowly approaching the front with slow, unsteady movements. Terry dragged a hand down his face, locking eyes with Mike who stared back with a frightened look in his eyes.
“Am I tripping, or do they look like fucking zombies?!”
Terry searched the area. He had no way of getting to the car without reinforcements.
“They can’t get in,” Terry grabbed Mike by the arm, leading him into the main area of the station, “Let’s get your cuffs off right now and get as much ammo to blow every last one of their heads OFF.”
Mike stood in the middle of the room while Terry tore the place apart. Papers cascaded to the floor and chairs were overturned. Finally, he found a pair of keys on the Chief’s desk sitting next to a mug of lukewarm coffee. Guess he didn’t have time to collect them when he rushed out. Terry jogged over to Mike and fit the key into the cuffs, successfully removing them. Mike rubbed his wrists frantically while Terry used the same keys to open the property room. He wanted his money, and he wanted protection. Mike was confused and afraid, following Terry’s every move, filling duffel bags with anything they could grab.
“Just pile the shit in, fam. No time to think about the consequences,” Terry tossed Mike another empty bag, “Them cops probably dead anyway. Fuck them.”
“What did I just see?”
Mike was talking to himself more than anything. Terry paused, staring up through his thick lashes at his cousin.
“How the fuck did I end up in this town and surrounded by zombies? This gotta be a nightmare.”
Terry tried to control his breathing. He stood at his towering height, satisfied with what they grabbed.
“As much as I wanna know what’s going on, we need to get to safety. A friend of mine that was helping me is…she’s one of them,” Terry tilted his head towards the exit, “She ain’t got no life in her. You can't negotiate with a zombie. They have only one impulse—that's to eat us or our brains. And I didn’t come all this way to turn into the undead. Understand?”
“Y–Yeah…I hear you.”
“Do you? Because we gotta run for our life to that car once we hit this door behind us. Can I count on you for that, Mike?”
“Yeah…yeah. Run fast, don’t look back…Let’s do this.”
Terry tightened his jaw and gave Mike a firm nod before extending his hand out. Mike dabbed Terry, clinging on tight before letting go. They threw the heavy bags across their bodies, and took long strides towards the exit. Terry peeked out, and he couldn’t see any zombies, but he made sure the gun in his hand was ready to fire. Gently, he pushed the door open, his eyes casing out the area. It was dark and silent. Terry looked back at Mike over his shoulder, bringing a finger to his mouth to shush him as they walked.
Crouching low, they quietly walked towards the front of the station. Terry smoothed his hand against the concrete wall, sweat dripping from the tip of his nose and onto his bottom lip. He looked back at Mike, thankful that he did because there was a zombie far behind them, sniffing the air like an animal to its prey. Terry didn’t alert Mike, not wanting him to panic. It were far enough away from them both.
Terry pressed his back against the wall and slowly peeked around the corner. The zombies were scattered, but none were hovering around the car. Sirens blared in the distance, and the sound acted as a distraction. The blue and red lights drew closer and the zombies took notice, rerouting themselves towards the dirt road. Terry kept his eyes locked forward on his target, but his left hand made a come–hither motion at Mike.
With no time to waste, at a breakneck speed, the cousins made a beeline for the Volkswagen. Two police cruisers began to approach and they were centimeters away from the car. Mike lost his footing on gravel and that didn’t fall on deaf ears. Two Zombies turned their undead eyes towards their direction. Panicked, Mike pushed up from the ground, dragging the bags against the dirt. Terry rushed over to help, eyes wide when a Zombie picked up speed.
They moved fast?
Terry aimed the gun and fired, blowing the zombies head off and painting the dirt with its non–functional brain.
Whoop! whoop!
“TERRY RICHMOND?!”
Fires let off. Terry crouched down behind the car.
“THERE’S MORE! THEY’VE SWARMED THE STATION!”
“CALL FOR BACK UP—”
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“CALL FOR BACKUP ALL UNITS TO THE STATION! THIS IS 105! DO YOU COPY?!”
Terry remains low to the ground and it was only a matter of time before they were either gunned down or eaten. Zombies ranked them from all sides. Police shooting. Terry opened the back door and flung his bag and Mike’s into the seat. Slamming the door, Terry aggressively shoved Mike to move into the car.
“GET IN THROUGH THE DRIVERS SIDE! NOW!”
Spit flying and veins popping out of his neck, Terry unloaded the clip into Zombies that were close enough to do damage. He could hear glass shattering behind him and some of the shards fell over his body. With all possible haste, he dropped the empty gun to the ground and climbed into the drivers side just in time to slam the door on a Zombies fingers. He started the ignition, Mike keeping himself low to avoid gunfire. Terry picked up speed, flying out of the area.
It didn’t matter that he crashed into police cruisers, he needed to get away. Bullets ricocheted off of the car, Terry hoping that a bullet won’t pierce a tire. This was their only transportation option. A bike would only get them killed and walking was much worse. Once they made it out onto the main road, Terry brought the car to a slow stop. Engine roaring, Mike and Terry sat in solemn silence. No room for conversation. After some minutes, Terry put the car back in drive, Summer’s home their destination and hiding place.
She had a little girl.
She was fighting to stay clean for her little girl.
Terry was thankful for the darkness. He didn’t want Mike to see his tears.
Calloused hands gripped the leather steering wheel to stop himself from breaking down…
Day 201:
“Hello? Mike? Do you copy?”
Terry peeked between the wood planks he nailed into the window frame from the outside of an old farm house. Nightfall was approaching.
“Come in, Mike. It’s Terry. Are you waiting out?”
Terry clicked off on his walkie talkie, waiting two minutes before speaking again.
“This is Terry. I spell, D-U-B-L-I-N. Do you copy?”
That’s where he was currently located. In rural Georgia. Far from Louisiana. He knew staying here for as long as he did was dangerous. Their plan was to keep moving at all costs. Terry flopped down on the sofa, facing defeat once more. He snatched his black beanie from his head and stared forward into the fireplace. The orange embers warmed his skin. As his eyes dragged up the fireplace, he stared into the face of a family of five.
The creeping sensation of vomit left a bad taste in his mouth. He pushed himself up to his boot–covered feet, stomping over to that picture. Terry flipped the framed portrait over, just like he’d done the others. His piercing eyes shut tightly, flickers of what he’d done to this family a painful memory. They weren’t themselves anyway, Terry had to remind himself of that as his lids slowly opened.
A single tear cascaded down his handsome face and before it could reach his overgrown mustache, he flicked it away with a scarred knuckle. Sniffling back his remaining sadness, Terry brought the walkie talkie to his mouth again. He exhaled, clenching his jaw with frustration. How could he just up and leave like that?
Terry knew the reality of their situation from day one. Mike never accepted it. He wanted to go back home to his girlfriend and his parents. He fought day in and day out to keep moving. While Terry already formulated in his mind that the people he once knew were most likely dead and gone, Mike couldn’t face that reality. Tension grew between them, and soon raging arguments. Terry woke up one morning while they were staying in an abandoned warehouse to Mike gone. Terry could only deal with it like he had to deal with his new life.
Surrounded by death.
And with all of that, he still had hopes that Mike was alive.
“Mike. This is Terry…are you safe man?”
He couldn’t shadow the tremble in his voice.
Silence.
Terry squeezed the walkie talkie to the point of shattering it.
He needed some air—oh wait—he can’t step outside or else they’d spot him.
He wanted to scream—oh no—they’d hear him and come searching.
Back on the couch, Terry sat the walkie talkie down on the coffee table. He picked up his bowl of beans and continued eating. Canned goods were essential. He planned on finding refuge some place safer soon so he could plant food and hunt. Even through the apocalypse, Terry kept himself in shape. He needed to be. Without endurance and strength, how else would he defend himself?
Semper Fidelis.
Latin for ‘Always faithful’
the motto of every Marine—an eternal and collective commitment to the success of their battles, the progress of their Nation, and the steadfast loyalty to the fellow Marines they fight alongside. One of many things he couldn’t shake from the Corps.
“Ooh-rah.”
Saying the battle cry always seemed to remind him that he was in constant danger.
After eating his beans, Terry cleaned up and made his way to bed. He set a timer on his watch, making sure to be up by a certain time to wash. Without proper plumbing, he had to result to his outdoor survival skills. Luckily, there was a creek nearby that he could escape to for a quick cleanse every morning.
He slept in a white T-shirt and black sweats. Terry glanced over at his walkie talkie sitting on the night stand. His anxiousness got the best of him, and he grabbed it, pressing the button for the final time that evening.
“D-U-B-L-I-N.”
He held his finger firmly on the button, the static loud within his ears. Just when he was about to give up, a voice on the other end had him sitting up in bed.
“Hello? Hello?”
Terry didn’t recognize that voice. His pulse rate was through the roof. Finally. Finally after almost two months of no contact. But who was this? Even through the static and bad signal, he could tell it was a voice of a woman.
“This is Terry. Who is this?”
It was silent for five seconds before they responded.
“Are you somewhere safe?”
“You answer my question first.” Terry replied angrily.
“My name is R–”
“Say again?”
“My name is Rae. Are you somewhere safe?”
Terry hesitated answering. Rightfully so his trust was lost. This Rae had Mike’s walkie…
“Hello? Terry?”
She had the most sincere voice with a captivating southern drawl.
“Hello?”
“I’m safe.”
“Dublin?”
“Where is Mike?”
“I don’t know a Mike. I found this walkie talkie. Here in Senoia.”
Terry scrunched his face in confusion. That’s nearly two hours away. He must of been on his way back to Louisiana. Terry’s stomach tightened with worry. Maybe something got to Mike before he could get to Louisiana…
“Mike is my cousin. He left me in Dublin for almost two months. I’ve been trying to reach him.”
“I’m sorry, Terry. I’ve never met your cousin.”
“Where in Senoia did you find this?”
“Near a work zone.”
“Okay…I don’t know you, Rae, but…I could use some…some help. Maybe Senoia will give me that…”
Terry paced the bedroom, walkie pressed against his mouth. He scratched at his scruffy beard impatiently, waiting for Rae to speak.
“Radio check. What’s your signal, Rae?”
His nerves were a wreck. His patience was low.
“I’m sorry. Bad signal where I am. Uhm…meet me near the famous train tracks…I can help.”
“Train trac–listen, I’m gonna need more than that.”
“It won’t be hard to miss. I gotta go—”
“Negative. I need to know that I can trust you and that I’m not walking into a trap.”
“How else will you know if you don’t take a chance? If you want my help, you’ll show up. I have to go, it’s too many ears close by. Goodbye for now, Terry.”
“Rae. Stand by…I’ll be in contact.”
Terry waited for a response, but none came.
@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @blackerthings @deja-r @kanafunee @helloncrocs @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @dremmmm @blackpinup22 @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @kokokonako @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @playgurlxoxo @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @madamzola @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter
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Your Favorite Players Favorite Player.
Young-Il/ Frontman / In-Ho/ Player 001 x Gi-Hun's Sister Reader)
Chapter 3 : Childs Play
Warnings: Guns, Blood, Swearing, Violence, Some up close and personal moments.
Words that look like this are inner thoughts.
Opening the small container they gave us for lunch, I found an egg, rice, some kimchi, and other vegetables. It looked a lot like the lunches Gi-hun mom use to make for me. It didn’t look exactly the same but it was strikingly similar. After taking a bite I set it down to look at how others were fairing with their lunches. Gi-hun wasn’t eating, instead a whole bunch of O’s were surrounding him, and he had this desolate look on his face. With a sigh of annoyance I picked up my food and made my way towards them all. I came around the back and sat in the middle of the stairs so I was a comfortable distance from Gi-hun, but close enough that anything I said was still relevant.
“We had to pick out one of the four shapes.” He sort of half mumbled.
“So of those, which one was the easiest to do?” Jung-Bae spat, with a mouth full of food.
“Triangle” my brother answered.
“And the hardest?” He asked again.
“OH MY GOD don’t you people have better things to do, I’m trying to eat in peace over here. Everyone wants to fucking win so bad but they chose to stay-“ I mumbled at the end of my exclamation.
Turning around Gi-hun gazed at his sister, wondering how long she had been sitting there and trying to eat. He looked down at his half eaten egg and cup of rice and decided he couldn’t eat anymore, just thinking about his future inside the building and his sisters, and passed her the rest of his meal. She looked down at it before grabbing the box, nodding at his subtle gesture. A silent understanding seeming to have grown between them since their argument the previous day. She returned to her curled up position near the top of the stairs and continued to eat.
After finishing her tin, and the leftover of her brothers she finally tuned back into the conversation.
“You were in the marines?” Jung-Bae asked inspecting Dae-Ho’s sleeve.
Jung-Bae simply chuckled and called at ease. As the two of them slapped and yelled around you noticed your brother turning to look at you with a “wtf” face. You matched it shrugging and went back to tuning them out.
“What are you doing over here?” I asked, resting my head on one arm and looking at 001.
“I had some questions for 456 here.” He said slightly gesturing to Gi-hun as he went back to watching the two marines.
“What about you?” He turned to meet your gaze again. “I thought your bed was on the other side?” He questioned. Weird he knows where your bed is.
“I just came over because-“ you caught yourself mid sentence not really sure what to say, you didn’t want to out loud admit why, but you also didn’t have a good knack for lying. “I wanted to… wanted to see the commotion and shit.” Gi-hun listened in, you may be here to play games, but he’s not.
“Is that really why or did you need something jamae?” He said with a stern yet soft tone. You looked back at him from 001 and rolled your eyes.
“Ugh nothing, again why are you always in. My. Business.” You punctuated. Angrily slamming your trays down, and starting to walk away, when a fight on the other side, near your bed, caught your attention. Two guys beating up player 333. It captured your attention and paused your angry leave. As you were stuck watching you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, lead you backwards to stand farther away from the danger. Shifting your gaze you saw 001 walking towards them.
“Hey, kids. What makes you think you can behave like that? Especially while people are eating. And in front of your elders and ladies too. It's bad manners, not to mention it's two against one. Shame on you guys.” He said loudly grabbing the rooms attention.
You sat and watched as the two started talking to him. They went to pounce when effortlessly, he grabbed Thanos by the neck. As the other one was coming up he simply shot his leg out kicking him down. You watched him turn Thanos onto the ground in anger.
Woah that… is really hot, whaaaaat the hell.
Just watching that I felt my heart beat pick up, my face feels kinda warm too. I applauded with the rest of the room but found him walking back making direct eye contact with me. When he got back the group started questioning him as I just sat and examined him like some scientist observing an animal, now that I noticed him closer I saw where his sweat suit clung tighter to his muscles, and I realized I could now see his face. His dark brown eyes holding a darkness behind them, like a dingy basement, and I wanna go down the stairs.
————
Lights out will begin in 10 minutes.
As I settled into my bed, I took my shoes and jacket off and set them next to my mattress, I heard footsteps coming my way and looking up I saw Gi-hun standing near my bed, just a step down.
“What do you want?” I tiredly mumbled.
“Come and sleep on my side of the room, it’s not safe to be alone at night.” He said with a more airy tone, like he asked it as a question but meant it as a statement.
“What would I need to be safe from?” I responded. He took a look around the room and at other of my bunk mates.
“Just, in case someone tries something, we’re in a room full of strangers, who knows what any of them could do.” He whispered now close to me. I look back at him like he was a crazy man.
“Gi-hun I’m fine, nobody has anything against me in here, the only girl who did is currently dead. I’ll be fine right here.” He looked around me and with a curled lip he nodded.
“Alright, I’m right across the room if you need anything.” He nodded and started walking back, with an exaggerated sigh I stopped him.
The lights had shut off and the only thing we had was a giant piggy bank for a nightlight, and the glowing symbols on the floor.
“Gi-hun.” I waited till he looked back at me, “goodnight.” I nodded, he nodded and wished me sweet dreams as well, as sweet as they could be in a place like this. He stopped once more before descending the rest of the stairs.
“I love you (y/n)” he finished walking the rest of the way down.
Under my breath I whispered my response hoping he heard enough of it.
“I love you too”
————
Gi-hun stood in the front of the triangle line, (Y/N) right behind him, and 001 behind her. He took his metal tin and turned, going to show his sister the shape first then the rest.
When he opened the tin, he was met with an insanely complex triangle with no lines, just corners. A wave of nervousness flushed over him.
“What is it?” (Y/N) said, tilting the tin for her to see the shape. “Gi-hun what the hell?” She said looking back at him, his eyes met hers worry sewn into his features. 001 gently took her shoulders and moved her behind him shielding her from his gaze, he looked at the cookie then peered at Gi-hun through his eyelids.
“Wait, wait, wait, what? What the hell kinda shape is that? Even an ex-Marine couldn't get that out!” Jung-bae exclaimed.
“Really? This one's the easiest to get out?”
“You said you won! You said you’ve done it!”
“What are you going to do, take responsibility for this?”
“Do something!”
“We’re all gonna die and it’s this guys fault.”
“It’s your fault!”
Taking a breath and feeling all the air come back to his lungs, Gi-hun woke with a start. Running a hand down his face he took another deep breath trying to control his breathing. He sat up and looked around the room until he spotted his sister, still laying sound asleep in her spot. Her blanket curled up to her chin and her eye brow twitching every now and again.
————
Attention, please. The second game will begin momentarily.Please follow the instructions from our staff.
Sitting up I stretched and began putting my shoes and jacket on. I looked down at Se-mi waking up as well.
“How can this game be right after we wake up?” She asked looking at me.
“I have no clue girl, better wake up though because I can’t see “sleepiness” boding well in the games.” Walking down the steps, I saw 001 reaching the ground at the same time I did. I felt my face start to warm at seeing his stiff body move around and wake up.
“Hi” I shyly said, feigning being extra tired. He smiled back. “Hello, how did you sleep?” He softly asked back. I shrugged and looked around us to see what other people were doing.
“I was a little cold I think, I woke up clutching my blanket like a new born.” I chuckled, I was about to ask how he slept when I saw Gi-hun coming down the stairs. I didn’t want him babysitting me in whatever game was next so I quickly excused myself and hid in the crowd.
————
In-ho, had a new understanding of Gi-hun and this other player’s relationship, decided it would be better to simply watch rather than try and include himself….. of course listening to his conscious didn’t get him where he was today. Listening to his conscious wouldn’t get him to Gi-hun. He knew… NOT listening to his conscious, would get him closer to her, and through her, Gi-Hun.
————
“Welcome to your second game.This game will be played in teams. Please divide into teams of five in the next ten minutes.”
I had entered the room before my brother did, I was pushed by the group way over to the wall. I saw player 120 walking around trying to join groups. I took a deep breath hoping she wouldn’t mind if we partner, and went to talk to her.
“Do you want to partner?” Se-mi cut me off, grabbing my arm and stopping my path. With a quick glance at 120 I saw her talking to someone, figuring she had joined someone I turned back.
“Sure” I smiled.
“Great” she smiled back, “now we just need three more pep-“
“Señorita’s excuse me.” Thanos spoke from behind me. I turned to see him and stood shoulder to shoulder with Se-mi. “Let’s play the game together.”
“Well, why should we?” Se-mi asked.
“Don’t you know who he is? He’s Thanos, the rapper. ‘I’m gonna kill half of humanity With my raps’”256 explained. With a sneer I looked to the other two taking the attention away from that one.
“Does that pickup actually work for you?” I asked sarcastically.
“Hang on, girls? We don’t know what the game is.” 124 interrupted.
“I, Thanos the great, will protect you.” Thanos explained.
“Right, Thanos. So have you got all the Infinity Stones?” Se-mi asked jokingly.
“Of course.” He responded flicking his hand out. “I’m going to destroy anyone who gets in my way! Just stick with me, and you’ll be safe. Okay?”
I looked to the right of me seeing this little guy sort of wandering around, I beckoned him over with my hand. I looked to the left of me and saw player 120 now paired up with three other people. That team looks way more stable than this one.
“What’s your name?” I asked the other player who walked up to me.
“I’m Park Min-su” he responded shakily.
“Cool, I’m Seong (y/n) wanna take my spot on this team?” I asked with a smile, he looked confused but before he could answer I stuck him where I was standing and just said “great.”
When Se-mi turned to ask me something I shoved him in my spot.
“Ladies this is Park Min-su, he is me now, I’m going somewhere else.” I rushed out to give them no time for questions. Se-mi looked at me weirdly. I just pat her shoulder and walked towards my desired team.
Approaching the team I noticed there was a much smaller girl, an older woman and a man.
“Excuse me.” I spoke up, causing them to turn to me. “Could I possibly join your guys team?” I asked looking at all of them, hoping my charm was enough for them to let me in. The old lady looked at the others before nodding her head.
“Yes, yes of course.” She smiled. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Dae-ho had followed me for a second.
“Excuse me Miss, would you join our team, we need one more?” He asked politely.
“Oh sorry I already have a team.” I replied taking a step back to be more in group with my team.
Time for team selection is up. The game you will be playing is SixLegged Pentathlon.
You will start with your legs tied together. Each member will take turns playing a minigame at every tenmeter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one. Here are the minigames.
Number one, the Ddakji.
Number two, Flying Stone.
Number three, Gonggi.
Number four, Spinning Top.
Number five, Jegi.
Well none of those are dallgona…
Your goal is to win all the minigames and cross the finish line in five minutes. Please decide players for each minigame.
As my team decided it finally came to my turn to choose.
“I’ll do spinning top, I was pretty good when I was little.” I shrugged turning to the next person.
As we all sat and watched the teams go we occasionally started cheering as players passed, until their time ended.
Your time is up.
The ring of the gunshots so close shook me on the inside. They were right in front of us too. 5 minutes… the end of our lives is five minutes long… the whole group was begining to get shaky. Hyun-ju gave us a motivational speech and we felt a little better. I learned everyone’s names and decided that if I were to die today, these would be my new best friends, there where certainly worse people I could die with.
As I stood there getting my ankles locked up, and not in a way I’d like, I looked around the room, hoping to see my brother’s face once more before I possibly died, our eyes found eachother as I nervously exhaled. He looked back at me and mouthed you can do this. I nodded back facing forward again, but not before locking eyes with 001. Seeing his unrelenting look I felt my stomach settle in a bit more. Only to shake up again when I noticed how long he was looking at me.
As they shot the starting gun, Hyun-ju kept us walking with a basic pattern.
One, two, one, two, One, two, one, two, One, two, one, two.
We got through the first three games, it was kinda weird when Geum-ja pictured the gonggi like hair, remind me to never get on her bad side.
One, two, one, two, One, two, one, two, One, two, one, two.
In the moment, as I wrapped the top, I kept failing, even with all the cheering going on around us, I couldn’t focus. Some of my sweat fell onto the top, making it even harder to wrap. Hyun-ju grabbed the top, wipped it on her jacket, and handed it back to me.
“Don’t worry don’t look at the clock, you still have plenty of time.” She encouraged, lightly patting my back.
The tension was so thick you couldn’t even shoot through it with one of those guns the guards had, I had sweat dripping down my face, and my hands shaking like an earth quake. Tears were beginning to fall down my face the more times I failed at wrapping it. The crowd was trying to help encourage us along but the shaman lady was… man she was really distracting.
“Give up now! The gods have abandoned you, your fate is sealed here. It was as I said, decided when you were born. You will die here!” She shouted from standing right next to Hyun-ju. Hyun-ju turned away from me and grabbed that bitch’s shoulders.
Smack
Smack
I looked over to see the woman’s face beet red.
“Stop distracting her! It’s okay you can do it, just take a deep breath.” She guided me. I looked from her to the shaman whose nose was bleeding from how hard Hyun-ju smacked her, my gaze scanned the room, looking at everyone around us who was watching me.
Their all gonna watch me die
My eyes met 001’s. If I was gonna die I was gonna die looking at something attractive. He made a deep breath motion with his hands and his chest. Something about it snapped me out of it as I nodded my head back. I copied his actions and suddenly felt strength in my weakened hands. I took a breath and wound up the top. I threw my hands in front anxious to see if it would go. Watching the top spin in the bloody puddle in front of us I stared at the disgustingly poetic moment. My team started marching even though I wasn’t mentally there. All I could do was march along with them.
We got to Jegi and all stared at Hyun-ju waiting to watch her play. I held my breath waiting to hear the pass from the PA. You could hear a pin drop it became so quiet in the room. The shiny tassels of the Jegi swishing around, I counted under my breath the taps from Hyun-ju’s foot.
1…2…3…4…5…
When Hyun-jun cheered we turned back around to see the guard holding his arms up in an O, we all happily cheered and quickly stepped towards the finish line, as we crossed the finish line I couldn’t help but sink to my knees in relief. We were all so caught up in our victory we didn’t take notice of the opposite team.
Fail
I looked over to the other side of the room, they were still on the spinning top game and everything felt slow motion.
Your time is up
I looked as they pleaded for longer, to only be denied by bullet. The gunshots echoed the room as the bodies fell to the ground. I closed my eyes just in time, as I felt the blood splatter onto my face. Reaching my hands up I wiped my eyelids down, seeing the blood smear my hands. My group had mostly been hit in their clothes, but Geum-ja noticed my face.
“Oh, oh dear, come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” She said, helping my stand. I looked down and noticed our ankles had been unlocked, but I was still coming off the high from the top. My hearing felt fuzzy, I couldn’t focus on anything going on around me. I got tunnel vision, needing Hyun-ju to help me walk. As they escorted us out of the room, I looked over my shoulder to see the crowd going back to their business, only Gi-hun and 001 where watching me as I left. I kept staring at them before we turned the corner and left the room.
————
I remained quiet the rest of the game time. We were back in “our” room and I couldn’t help but distance myself. The rest of our group sat at the bottom of the stairs while I resided at the top. Watching more and more players come in, I hadn’t seen my brother or 001 come in yet. My stomach turned sickeningly. I bit at my fingers as my eyes darted around the room, checking and rechecking to make sure I hadn’t missed him.
“Hey, (Y/N) are you okay?” Young-mi asked, placing her hand on my shoulder. I simply nodded my head remaining silent. Geum-ja climbed the stairs to meet us near the top.
“Why don’t you come to the restroom with me, we’ll wipe that blood off your pretty face.” She said swiping at my cheek with her thumb. I simply nodded at her as I felt a tug on my elbow.
“Cmon, I’ve got you.” Hyun-ju mumbled, helping me to my feet.
————
I felt Geum-ja using a piece of toilet paper to wipe me off. The cold startled me out of my daze a little. She softly smiled at me and apologized for the temperature.
“No no it’s okay, it feels good.” I told her bringing the paper back up to my face. She wiped the dripping water off my chin and walked us out of the bathroom.
————
“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have made the last kick.” Gi-hun said to 001, before seeing him turn to 222.
“Are you feeling alright?” He asked her, she nodded her head and went to reply when a running sound caught their attention. Gi-hun looked up to see his sister running at them like she had 10 seconds left in “Red Light Green Light.” He stood from his spot and met her at the bottom of the stairs. As soon as she got close enough she jumped into a hug. Mostly holding herself up but Gi-hun held her at her waist to help. A shaky breath left her chest as she clung tightly to her brother.
“I thought- I thought you, you didn’t make it past the- the game.” She sniffled, holding tightly to Gi-hun.
“It’s alright, I’m okay, we’re okay. Everyone on our team made it.” The small group was now watching the interaction with interest. Gi-hun wiped the few tears that had escaped her away and looked up to see Geum-ja and Young-sik watching them as well. When she sniffled he looked back down at her. “I’m ready to go home now Oppa.” Her lip wobbled. He nodded and looked back.
“I’ll be right back, I’m not going far.” He told her. Gently helping her sit on the step right below 001, as he left to speak with the mother son duo. The small group went back to talking about their win, but 001 place a light hand on her shoulder.
“Are you okay?” He asked slightly nudging her to look at him. With a swipe on her cheek, she replied, and took another shaky breath.
“That top game really got to you.” He said, lightly rubbing her back now, she nodded and nervously twisted her hands around. “I got stuck there too.” He admitted
Looking at him with wide eyes, (Y/N) blinked away the rest of her worry. “You did?” She asked. He nodded and sighed.
“I kept throwing it without enough force to get a spin going, I got really upset at myself but then I remembered how you threw it and just copied the way you did it.”
With confusion she asked him, “how I did it?” She repeated. He nodded and used his hands to copy what she had done. “You’re the one who helped me do that.” She softly smiled looking at him in disbelief. He let out an amused huff before looking down again. Gi-hun had come back from thanking the other two for their care of his sister, and sat down right next to her, taking her attention away from 001.
Gi-hun wrapped his arm around (Y/N) holding her close to him as she wrapped herself in her arms.
“Listen. Perhaps we should learn each other’s names. I still don’t know your names, gentlemen. Or yours, Misses.” Dae-Ho announced, looking at the group. “I’ll start. I’m Kang Daeho.“Dae” means “big,” “ho” means “tiger.””
“Wow. “Big tiger.” Cool name. My name is Park Jung-bae.” Righteous” and “twice.” My parents wanted me to be twice as righteous.” Jung-bae shared, lightly laughing to himself. The group turned their attention to the first female.
“My name is Kim Jun-hee.I don’t know what it means though.” She shrugged.
“Jun-hee, when you get out of here, go see a doctor right away. You’ve been under a lot of stress. You need to get yourself checked out.” In-ho suggested, causing the siblings to look at her and nod in agreement. She nodded back in affirmation.
“I’m Oh Young-il.” 001 shared, pointing to his number on his jacket.
“Young-il?” Jung-bae asked curiously.
“Yes. “Young-il” sounds like “zero one,” and that’s my number. Easy to remember.” He smiled. (Y/N) tentatively reached a hand up and felt his jacket number.
“Young-il, it suits you.” She smiled at him. “Your number 1.”
“Oh, that’s true! Your name is your number.” Dae-ho exclaimed, he turned to Gi-hun. “ Oh, Gihun. What’s your last name?”
“My name is Seong Gihun.” He said “This is my younger sister. Seong (Y/N).” The girl looked up from playing with her O patch, she nodded and went back to what she had been doing. The trill of the money filling the piggy bank drew her attention back to the room around them. As she watched the bank fill with the money of the now passed on players she couldn’t help her shaking hands.
One of those 100,000,000 could be me next, it could’ve been me.
She unconsciously grasped Gi-Huns arm tighter, not even realizing she held it in the first place. Gi-hun looked at his sister who now had tears shining in the corner of her eyes again. She softly cried, she clung tighter to him as they watched people become enraged.
In-ho looked at the girl from where he was, watching her sobs. They dripped down her face and shined like stars in the sky. The golden light from the piggy bank illuminated her face, making the salty wetness glimmer. He wasn’t sure what sort of feeling he was having, spite, anger, nay… jealousy? Didn’t matter. He was going to get to Gi-hun, and if he had to rip her apart with his bare hands and re build her in his own image, that’s what he would do…
————
“This time, the vote will begin with Player 001. Player 001, please cast your vote.” The guards spoke, you all watched as he walked down the aisle to press the big red X button. Looking back at your group he made a thumbs up and went to stand on the X. As more and more people voted you watched the sides slowly fill up, when more O’s started being pressed than X’s.
“Are you all out of your minds?You still want to keep going after watching all those people die? Who’s to say you won’t die in the next game? We have to stop. We’ll all die if we keep going! Come to your senses, and leave with that money.” Your attention hooked onto Young-il watching his brave statement. Someone from the O side shouted even louder.
“What do you think we can do with a mere 70 million?”
The old man spoke up. “I don’t know how much you owe, but for most people here, that doesn’t even cover 10% of their debt. If we play one more game, the prize will be at least 240 million!” With everyone shouting at once your currently very fragile mental state couldn’t take much more of it as you started letting small sobs out. Your own crying got interrupted by Young-mi who started begging to vote to leave, that she didn’t want to die in that awful place. You watched her from where you stood, unaware of another pair of eyes in turn watch you.
“These games aren’t actually hard, they’re just kids games, you’re iver thinking it.” Someone shouted, that did give you a bit of false hope, till you saw Young-mi crying again and snapped out of your own worry.
“Just kids games, not that hard? How about we bring in the bodies of the already two hundred plus dead players and you tell them that yourself, that they were simply failures at kids games?” You huffed, seeing Young-il nod at you from the corner of your eye. Around you people started cheering for one more game as if what you said didn’t even matter, that they weren’t thinking about the already dead players.
When your turn finally came around, people started chanting again, only to be met with the sound of a barrage of guns cocking. The square gaurd spoke.
“Let me repeat yesterday’s statement, we will not allow disruptive processes to the voting process.” You stared at them in confusion as they hadn’t stopped the rioting earlier, but now did? You took a deep breath and made your way down the walk, you didn’t even hesitate to press the X button, and ripped off your patch, knowing your vote wouldn’t make a difference in the almost twenty extra vote split. You walked over to the X side as you watched your brother take his vote.
“You cast your vote and that’s what matters.” Someone whispered in your ear. You jumped a little bit, startled. “sorry” Young-il whispered putting a hand on your back.
“Oh, yeah I guess so.” I shivered. I wasn’t chilly for long though, feeling Young-il’s hand on the lower of my back sent warm, electric chills up my spine. I turned to look at him hoping he would move his hand away at the motion but didn’t, he held strong. With a curled lip I faced him, “I’m… I’m really scared.” I confided, something about him just made me feel safe, warm, happy.
“It’ll be okay.” He whispered back, reaching around you to give you a gentle hug. You reciprocated it, feeling like a tiny doll, loved and cared for by a little girl held safely in someone’s arms. Of course, you where one once, but now your a woman with… other feelings. His hand on your back now felt like a red hot iron, heating you up, churning your liquid insides.
Even though you’d be there for about two or three days now, and none of you were in the least bit clean, he smelled divine. His natural man musk doing something to you. He was just embalmed with this smell like he hadn’t been running and sweating with the rest of you. You couldn’t name it but it filled you. Your legs itched to press yourself closer to him, feeling the rest of the world melt away. As though you were the only two in the whole room.
————
In-ho felt the mood of the hug shift… intentionally… he went from a simple hug to something much more. He moved his arm from your back slowly lower and lower. His hand resting just above your behind. Using the palm of his hand he pressed you closer to him still. His other hand up near your neck, gently brushed the hair away as he thumbed at the back of your neck.
The voting had ended as everyone dispersed, Young-il kept his hand in your lower back as you snapped out of it. With a shy smile, you looked away from him as he led you away.
Gi-hun, upset at the vote results, went to find you to comfort you, only to be met with the sight of you walking away from him… with Young-il.
————
You sat down, in front of your brother and Young-il. As everyone was eating the small amount of food they had been given you shouldn’t help but blush thinking about what happened. Jung-bae was trying to justify his earlier decision of choosing O, and scooted over to where you and Jun-hee sat.
“Jun-hee, (Y/N). I’ll make sure we survive the next game.” As you went to snip back at him Gi-hun did it for you.
“The next game”? In the next game, we might have to kill each other.” At his answer you got startled, your hands squeezed at your milk carton causing a bit to splash out.
“ Gihun, that’s a bit much. There’s nothing we can do now, so let’s try to stay positive.” Young-il said, leaning in front to hand you a handkerchief to wipe off with. “We should eat, pull ourselves together, and try our best again. Here, Y/N. You can have my milk. Hang in there until the next game.” Looking over your shoulder you were met with his soft face handing you a milk.
“Oh no it’s okay, I didn’t spill that much.” I said looking into my lap.
“Take it, I don’t drink plain milk, if you don’t I’ll just give it to Jun-hee.” He said nodding his head towards her. You shook your head again as you lifted up a second carton of milk.
“I’m already covered for seconds, thank you though.” You nodded in return. Passing the milk to Jun-hee she looked at your milk in curiosity.
“Gi-hun can’t have plain milk either, it gives him a tummy ache.” You said in a condescending voice, switching to baby voice at the end as you reached over to pat his stomach while he finished his piece of bread. With a huff he tried to push your hand away.
Jung- bae offered his bread to Jun-hee who happily accepted, right as Dae-ho asked if his milk was on the table too. You chuckled and finished the little bit you wanted from your brothers container, you passed it to him stating that you where full. You stood taking your trash to one container they had sitting in the middle of the room. You walked past you the group you played the six legged game with.
“Unnie your beautiful” you heard Young-mi say as you walked up.
“I don’t know if I could say “beautiful,” but I’ve spent some time with you now, and I think you look fine.” Geum-ja said in addition. Young-sik felt the need to add on, “You said she was unsightly?”
His mother flipped his cup up while she was laughing, you giggled from the stairs as you came up, Young-sik and Hyun-jun looked at you with ashamed looks.
“I’m not upset.” You admitted. They looked at you in confusion. “We all need money for things, it’s essential to living in todays world, I’m just sorry that you both are under so much stress from it that you feel you need to be in a life or death situation for things to be right again.” You started with Hyun-ju, leaning down to give her a hug. You wrapped her in your arms and tried to push your acceptance through your fingertips. Then you went to Young-sik who didn’t look like he wanted a hug, so you gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek. That got his lips wobbly. You said your goodnight and went on your way back to your beds.
————
Lights out in ten minutes. Please prepare for bedtime.
The lullaby that played gave you some comfort. You looked around the room to see some people already asleep, and some pretending to be. As you were mentally drifting off you lost attention to the world around you and screamed as you felt a pair of arms lift you up.
“AHHH OH MY GOD” from behind you Dae-ho chuckled and set you on your mattress. Young-il picked up the back end of the mattress as Dae-ho took the front.
“Allow us to escort you to safety milady.” Dae-ho joked, jostling the mattress around a bit. As you sat above they started rocking the mattress side to side. In between your laughs and little screams you managed to get out what you were saying.
“Don’t you- AH- don’t you dare drop me.” You laughed out the fake threat. As Dae-ho grabbed your pillow he started hitting you on the head with it.
“AH! AHHHH oh my gosh, stop I can’t see.” You giggled out, turning into a chortle kind of laughter. Of course your brother just had to ruin the light hearted mood.
“Once it’s lights out, we need to take turns keeping watch. I’ll take the first watch. You should decide the order for the rest.” He remarked, setting his pillow and blanket into place. Young-il look at you and you simply shrugged at his gaze. As you heard the countdown start you couldn’t help but become a bit nervous at the ominous sound.
About midway through the night, you heard Jun-hee shifting in the bed next to you, she slowly sat up causing the bed to creek, in turn waking you.
“Mr. Seong.I need to use the bathroom.” You heard her whisper.
“It’s too dangerous to go by yourself.” He hushed, he looked around to wake someone to help her when you hopped off your bed.
“I’ll go, now that she mentioned it I really have to pee.” You said quickly slipping on your shoes to go. He shook his head and looked for someone else, not trusting you two alone.
“We can go together!” Geum-ja whispered excitedly. You nodded at your brother who in turn gave you both the go ahead.
As the two of them pestered the triangle guard to let you go, you stepped up from the shadows to try your hand at negotiation. The guard shut the window again then re opened it asking for your player number.
“Uhh, I’m 432?” You replied confused, you looked at the other two who just shrugged. The window closed and the door opened almost instantaneously. “Maybe it’s some kinda number lottery?” You suggested walking through.
“Can I come too?” Hyun-ju popped up from behind you. You jumped in shock and grabbed the arm of the nearest gaurd, who let you steady yourself before escorting your group to the bathroom.
When you got in you didn’t even have time to register what the others were doing as you raced to the toilet. They let you go after games but that milk thought right now would be a great time to make a reprise. After you finished you walked out to see Geum-ja and Hyun-ju comforting Jun-hee.
“Uhh did I miss something?” You inquire. Jun-hee sniffled at you and told you she was okay. You smiled back as your group finished washing their hands and leaving.
————
Looking around you where quietly swearing at the predicament you where now in. Jung-bae was currently on watch. Gi-hun was asleep under the bed on the left, Young-il was asleep under the right, an empty bed space on the right sat wide open but the space between there and the two bodies resting around it would require you to wake someone up. To get into that corner. Deciding you would rather wake Young-il up over poor pregnant Jun-hee, you took your chance and started slowly crawling around him.
You were almost under the bed and in your spot when your foot slipped on a loose edge of his blanket. With a hiss down you went.
————
He didn’t know how he got to wake up to this… but he did…
(Y/N)’s chest directly in his face… or should I say ON his face. Her stomach pressed against his chest, in his hands he could feel the softness of her skin from under her shirt.
Again…
He doesn’t know HOW he woke up to that but…
He’s not complaining.
————
Feeling Young-il’s breath on my boobs made me want to curl in on myself in embarrassment. Especially now that he was awake, and… really really warm. His forehead resting on my clavicle felt like lava.
“Oh Jesus, sorry, lemme just-“ I whispered trying to get my way off him.
“here let me help you get unstuck.” He whispered trying to guide my hips over and down so I was on the floor and could easily roll.
“hold on if i can just.” I whisper shouted back, slipping on the blanket as I tried to regain my balance and my legs got entangled with his. Feeling my knee against a hard surface I pushed up trying to shove myself forward when Young-il grabbed my ribs, holding me impossibly still. I heard him quietly suck in a breath and pulled my torso down till he could tilt his head back and reach my ear.
“Do. Not. Move.” He groaned, he started with my legs, he grabbed my thighs with a vice grip, and lifted me over the left of his body. As he picked up my leg, I felt it meet with his inner thigh. Wait… was I pressing on the floor or on his-
He grabbed my hips, which, his thumbs somehow got under my shirt… and… I think I died a little inside. Effortlessly like I weighed nothing to him, he positioned my hips to the side of his body.
Do it again
He made a move for my ribs around my breast. With a much gentler touch he moved me down to the left side, gently pushing my shoulders down so that I now laid next to him.
With a stern look in his eye he addressed me.
“what where you doing?” He asked. His hands still resting on my shoulders.
“uhhm, sorry, I was trying to climb into the bed and I slipped on your blanket.” I admitted, bringing my hands up to try and hide my cheeks.
“no no, none of that.” He said gripping my wrists now, keeping my hands down. “ you’re going to answer me. my way. Why didn’t you just wake me up?” He asked. With a deep breath I felt like a bomb just went off in my chest.
“I, I didn’t want to… wake you…” it felt silly saying this as we were now in this position. He sighed out and let go of my wrists. He titled his head up then looked at me again.
“my turn to watch starts in a little bit, and trying to get back there looks really uncomfy. Why don’t you just stay here?” He asked moving over.
“oh I don’t want to take your spot, it’s okay really.” I insisted reaching up for my blanket, his arm beat me to it though and pulled it down.
“Please, I insist.” He repeated, handing me his pillow and settling me in. I abashedly accepted and sighed out feeling the sleepiness over come me.
“hmmmm, thanks young-il” I whispered, drifting off into sleep.
I quietly heard him reply but couldn’t make out what he said.
.
.
.
.
.
But Gi-Hun heard him…. He heard it all…
AN: AHHHHH RABBLE RABBLE sorry this took so long, this is the longest chapter I think. I’ve read and re-read this so many times to try and make it perfect for ya’ll. ENJOY!!! The mingle scene is next and it is…… actually pretty tame so far, but WORRY NOT, I SHALL DELIVER US TO A HIGHER PLACE, LIKE WHEREVER THANOS WAS THE WHOLE SHOW.
Yours truly
~FandomObbsessedB
Me when I spend three days on a chapter and finally post.
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TAGLIST: @blacksnape123 @newtsniffles @missmollya @watasinekoru @justaproudslytherpuff @jamiewritesfanfiction-blog @tinylawyerbluebird @connorsandroids @foulbreadpaenut

#x reader#squid game imagine#gi hun#in ho x reader#squid game#hwang in ho#dae ho#choi su bong#se mi squid game#series
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no sabe cuanto tiempo le ha tomado levantarse, acercarse a la puerta y salir de su habitación, avanzar solo un par de puertas corredizas hasta dar con primera abierta que encuentra ( pues no cree tener suficiente fuerza para abrir una ). ha avanzado arrastrándose por paredes, a un paso tan lento que podía jurar que solo un par de metros le costó una hora... o más. ' joder ' se expresa, casi escuchándose exasperado, luego de escuchar palabras del otro, recargado en el marco de entrada de aquel cuarto, con su otro brazo sujetando propio costado, como si así pudiera detener el dolor que siente allí. ' ¿me estás diciendo que avance tanto por nada? ' en parte exageraba, de no haber avanzado mucho. ' eso estoy haciendo, buscando vitae ' suspira, muecas en su rostro por mismas punzadas, recargándose aún mejor porque puede sentirse tambalear un poco. ' ¿ni siquiera unas malditas gomitas? '. ( @sskcng )
habitación en penumbras pretende ocultar lo descompensado que vástago se encuentra, piel arde gracias a infección en rasguños profundos que cruzan pectoral izquierdo desde su hombro, además, cuerpo rechazó la bolsa de vitae que fue entregada horas atrás. la última vez con malestares similares datan a mediados de 1800, cuando enfermedades se tornaban epidemias con facilidad; es complicado para él mostrarse en aquel estado, vulnerabilidad no es algo a lo que esté acostumbrado. " si traes el vitae que pedí puedes dejarlo ahí. " indica mesita de noche sin prestar atención a identidad.
#holaaa<33#hice de tin marin para ver con quien respondía sdsds#q tal todo; luv???<3#* 𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙫𝙖𝙙𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙤 : conversaciones .#sskcng#ignora lo random del gif ah
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Mermen au with mer TF141 and researcher reader trying to learn about their. . .biology :Dd Or them trying to bring progressively bigger fish trying to woo and then Ghost ends up bringing you a fucking orca or some shit,
...I had to look up the reproductive cycle of several marine animals for this I hope you are happy.
Deductive Reasoning
Words: 1.3k
CW: ...light fish porn (?)
It was just fascinating. It would have been dreadfully difficult to not talk about this every chance you got and thus break your NDA if not for the fact that you never left this secure little island base. You were permitted to, but why would you want to? You were speaking with living, breathing mermen almost everyday.
4 of them, although they had alluded to their being more out there. These 4 were a... well that was the question wasn't it? Only one shark did not make a shiver, only one seal did not make a herd, only one walrus did not make a rookery and only one mandarinfish did not make a shoal. Was there a collective term for mermen? You were told you were now the leading researcher in the world for this new species, so perhaps that meant you got to decide.
Or maybe you'd just ask. They spoke to you sometimes, or at least made noises. They seemed to understand each other at least which was intriguing on its own.
It had been Soap you had met first. You had been basically abducted and hurried to this island facility where they had captured a real life merman. You were enamoured immediately by the furious thing in the tank. Half seal, harbour seal you thought. Top half looked all but human (skin must be different to allow for underwater living and ah, yes, you could see gills), hair in a mohawk (which suggested someone had cut it to look like that, who? Was it a ritual? Did they have community? Was it an emulation of human culture? Perhaps some mating strategy?), eyes somewhere between human and seal (his physicality was a similar story, he was built strong and thick, a healthy layer of fat over hard muscle).
You perhaps felt a little bashful looking back. You had been so wildly excited, asking a thousand questions and going into chaotic science mode that it took you a whole 16 hours of straight observations and notes to realise there was a creature of higher intelligence being held captive in a tank. You did, of course, apologise profusely. He clearly did not understand what you were saying, but the emotion was human enough. Bemusement.
Soap had come about because he was slippery. Well, actually he wasn't, but the story was that he was slippery. Because if the military knew you had actually been helping him escape you were probably going to get disappeared. It was lucky the facility at that time wasn't as high security, you had gotten away with it.
You had met Gaz right there on the coast when Soap went slicing through the water. You thought looking back that Price and Ghost had probably been there, just out of sight. They had come for him. Gaz was a magnificent thing. His tail was the same pattern as a madarinfish, bright orange with gorgeous blue markings. You had shown him a tin of irn-bru once with a grin and learned then that Soap could laugh. He had come right up to you and after some form of exchange with Soap had been playful, showing off his tail and holding his hand out to you. You had been existing on caffeine and noodles so hardly your fault you took it, getting dragged into the water.
Oh how thrilling an education you received in the courting practices of Dragonets! He had made quite a show of displaying his fins, including a gorgeous dorsal fin on his human looking spine. You knew you simply must see them again if only to study why Gaz's eyes were more human while Soap's leant towards seal like. He was certainly the most expressive of them. His name had only come about because you had tried every other one and he made his disdain for them very clear. By the time the merman had been rubbing what you would call his ventral fins against you, Soap had grabbed you and soundly deposited you back on shore. Just in time too for the soldiers to find you because the doctor later told you that you were in the early stages of hypothermia. Totally worth it actually.
You talked the powers that be into allowing your pet projects to free roam, after all they kept coming back to see you. Over the course of a year the facility was upgraded and a channel added from the sea to an indoor pool that would allow for better study. Soap and Gaz didn't run on a schedule exactly, but they seemed content to swim in every so often and let you poke and prod. Fascinating that they should both be half human but their other half was so entirely different. Soap was half mammal, retractable penis something he was very proud to show off anytime he was in the observation pool. Gaz was half dragonet, and while you tried to put a clutch of eggs in the pool to see if he could fertilise them he had only raised an eyebrow at you and tried once again to pull you in. Tough luck, you had learned your lesson about going into the water with them when you had met Ghost.
It had been the middle of the night when he swam into the pool. Silent, you hadn't heard him (that's where that name had come from in the end). So unsuspecting were you that you were too near the edge and his hand had snaked around your ankle, one sharp pull dragging you in after you fell to the ground (hardly avoiding a broken nose). It wasn't only his tail that was shark, he had a sharp set of teeth that he sank into the meat of your shoulder without much ceremony. His claspers had been strong as hell holding you there, the only thing likely saving you his frustration at your clothes. He must not have understood the concept very well because he released you and dove, pawing at your trousers to try and figure them out. It was an endless source of fascination for him anytime he visited after. He would lean his arms on the pool edge and just stare at your legs, tracing the outline of your body with his sharp eyes. It only seemed fair to let him look since you spent an inordinate amount of time staring at him. He was sleek and muscular, every inch an apex predator in his prime.
It was a contrast to who you would say was the leader of their group. The merman who had saved you from Ghost that first time you met him, who had ripped him away from you when his teeth had sunk into the meat of your thigh through your trousers. Price had hauled you out of the water with ease. He was part Walrus, huge and soft with a layer of blubber similar to Soap's that hid considerable strength. Of all of them his animal half was most pronounced, his canines elongated into tusks and his hair thick and whisker-like around them.
As a scientist you could not possibly play favourites. Price was absolutely your favourite. He would be still and patient with you when you were working with him. He would gently run his fingers over whatever parts of you were in reach. When you babbled excitedly he seemed to listen as best he could.
If you had taken more than a moment to really look into it, you might have realised you were not the only creature conducting research. If you had used some deductive reasoning, you probably could have anticipated that fateful day you were dragged into the sea, never to be seen by the human military again.
#mhairiwrites#cod au#tf 141 x reader#today on CWs I never thought I would have to use#was going to make one an octopus but we all know that would be Konig#and I liked flamboyant Gaz and fat Soap and Price and sharp toother Ghost too much
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Tin Cup (1996) was co-written and directed by Ron Shelton. This is Ron's fourth honorable mention, after Bull Durham, White Men Can't Jump, and Play It to the Bone. All four are set in the world of sports.
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SPN TOXIC FEMSLASH 2025 FULL PROMPT LIST
welcome girls and gays to the official pre-start of spn toxic femslash 2025. we've pared down our per-day prompts to a svelte four as opposed to last year's six, and we've added a new category of prompt: character prompts. these are what it says on the tin: single characters without a specified ship. YOU get to choose the femslash. additionally, characters who only appear in a few episodes and only have one name are clarified by the name of the first episode in which they appeared, ao3 style. alright babes, go wild.
remember, you're not required to follow every prompt or even the week theme. pick and choose! and remember to post your works here.
MILF WEEK:
day one: marking // corpse // rowena mcleod/billie // constance welch
day two: gothic // humiliation // eileen leahy/mary winchester // gwen campbell
day three: mommy kink // vivisection // hannah/naomi // eleanor visyak
day four: age gap // jealousy // missouri mosely/jo harvelle // tracy bell
day five: worship // right hand // lilith/ruby // ambriel (the devil in the details)
day six: reign in hell/serve in heaven // mindwipe/lobotomy // eve/lenore (bloodlust) // ava wilson
day seven: munchausen by proxy // barefoot and pregnant // alex jones/celia (alex annie alexis ann) // lydia (the slice girls)
AU WEEK:
day eight: roller derby au // doll // ruby/astaroth (malleus maleficarum) // maggie zeddmore
day nine: guilt by association // executioner // bela talbot/cassie robinson // amy pond
day ten: autopsy // poison/drugging // raphael/billie // athena lopez
day eleven: murder-suicide // isolation // charlie bradbury/charlie bradbury // marin (the born-again identity)
day twelve: nun kink // handmaiden-feudal lord // linda tran/abaddon // cecily (road trip)
day thirteen: vore // comp het // becky rosen/amara // kate milligan
day fourteen: coffeeshop au (evil) // ritual sacrifice // kelly kline/dagon // tessa
GENDERBEND WEEK:
day fifteen: crossdressing // outsider pov // cassie robinson/fem!dean winchester // tamara (the magnificent seven)
day sixteen: forcefem // petplay // fem!jack kline/harper sayles // haley collins
day seventeen: piety // brat // fem!castiel/raphael // madge carrigan
day eighteen: unreality/lying // butch // linda tran/meg masters // olivia (ask jeeves)
day nineteen: turn the straight girl // soulmates // fem!lucifer/fem!sam winchester // hester (reading is fundamental)
day twenty: substance abuse // on the rack // fem!bobby singer/fem!crowley // casey (sin city)
day twenty one: brainwashing // rot // anna milton/ruby // tasha banes
ALTERNATE FANWORK WEEK:
day twenty two: manipulation // scratch her eyes out // patience turner/claire novak // dumah (war of the worlds)
day twenty three: "what happened to her first husband?" // infidelity // missouri mosely/mary winchester // amelia richardson
day twenty four: somnophilia // true crime // billie/jessica moore // pamela barnes
day twenty five: kidnapping // episode rewrite // kate (bitten)/tasha (paper moon) // lily baker
day twenty six: unreliable narrator // stacy's mom // meg masters/ellen harvelle // stevie (the rupture)
day twenty seven: closeted // demon deal // mary winchester/billie // krissy chambers
day twenty eight: "i ran into a door" // babytrap // jody mills/donna hanscum // paris hilton
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Tagged by @petxina ages ago, perdona per haver trigat tant 😅 però moltes gràcies per l'etiqueta <3
I'll tag @spraakentusiast @mycological-mariner @aurpiment @thiefbird @chiropteracupola @sailorpants @andalusiya @zsofiarosebud @jar-jar-ate and anyone else who wants to/who I forgot!
#my room has MANY strange trinkets. if you need a strange little object i've got you#or a strange large object tbh#tag games
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