#Wanting to know where your child is and not letting them do dangerous things is normal actually

[honeymoonjinmain]

⚄ Friend or Foe ❀

It takes at least twenty dead people before you acknowledge that this isn't a regular gameshow. Now, you have to decide who to align yourself with before you're the next to be eliminated. masterlist

❀ hyunju x reader ❀ this chapter contains graphic violence, major character death, and explicit sexual content, mdni. 19.1k

“The following players have been eliminated: player 230, player 268, player 229, player 331, player 401.”

You don’t hear a thing after the first number called. You halt so suddenly Hyunju almost knocks right into you. It feels unreal; everyone in the entire room has gone completely silent and still. Your surroundings look fake, almost glossy, and your eyes don’t want to focus on anything in particular. So this is what denial feels like. 

Thanos can’t be dead because you just saw him. Thanos can’t be dead because getting high has saved his life three games in a row and you know for a fact he has just enough pills in that cross of his to keep it that way. Thanos can’t be dead because-

Above you, the piggy bank hangs heavier with every band of notes dropped down its chute. The digital panel updates. Ninety-five left, with those eliminated bringing the total share to over thirty-six billion won. Nauseating.

Another beat of stunned silence, and the door to the bathrooms swings open to let a stream of bloodied players in, all immediately dividing onto their own teams like there’s a physical repulsion between them.

You can feel Hyunju’s eyes on you for a split second before she’s slipping her hand around your arm and firmly pulling you over to your team, away from the incoming players. The way she moves quickly but steadily reminds you of a mother trying not to frighten a child in a dangerous situation and your heart thuds when a familiar face skitters out to the middle of the room.

Namgyu.

He yells out to his team with his arms waving frantically - as if their attention wasn’t already laser-focused on the group - and with his hair tucked behind his ears you can see the fresh smears of blood all over his face and hands. “Hey, O team, listen! We- They- When we were in the bathroom, out of nowhere those fucking X bastards started attacking us!” He’s more frantic than you’ve ever seen him, his antsy energy dialed up to eleven as he spins his tale. “We were just standing there, and those assholes tried to- They killed my friend! A bunch of other people on our side, too, they’re-”

They killed my friend.

Your stomach turns again. Although you had mixed feelings about Thanos, and was never completely sure how he felt about you either, the image of him being killed right in front of Namgyu is too awful to dwell on. As you and Hyunju reach the steps where your friends are sitting, you make sure to pin her arm with yours so she doesn’t let go when you sit. The warmth and strength serves as an anchor, though your mind still feels like it’s caught in a floaty daze at the sudden change of events.

One of the X members - player 047 - has interrupted Namgyu in defense, turning to face you all. “These bastards started threatening people on our side! They attacked us to win tomorrow’s re-vote!”

Across from him, Namgyu sways restlessly back and forth. He holds his hands slightly away from his body, flexing them open and closed like he doesn’t know what to do with yourself. Seeing him stand alone is strange by itself, and you can’t help but wonder if the odd posture is because he’s so used to hanging off someone’s arm or jacket or shoulder. As he turns, you see his expression full on. One of his eyes keeps twitching but his gaze is like searing coals, intense and burning black. He looks almost gaunt in contrast to the vibrant swipes of fresh blood adorning him. No doubt the grisly sight he’d experienced in the bathroom was a sobering one; he’s strung out and angry. 

The O team are quick to defend themselves. “Oh, fuck you,” a man spits dismissively, “you guys started killing us first. You wanted us to die. That’s how you planned to win the vote, wasn’t it?”

“Hey, we lost people too, okay! What; were we just supposed to wait like sitting ducks as you fuckers killed us off?”

Predictably, the fight continues between the survivors on either side. Your eyes don’t move from Namgyu, however. He runs his hands down his face, dragging hard enough to tug at his lower lids. He’ll seem genuinely distraught one moment, making your heart ache to go over and grieve together, but then something menacing in his expression will flash as his eyes roll over the X players. You’re reminded of the way he shoved you into the hallway wall so recklessly earlier before immediately flipping to his usual provocation. As much as you feel awful for him, you know he’s dangerous right now. 

It’s not until you drag your gaze away that you notice a barricade has been forming around you. Whether intentional or subconscious, Daeho, Gihun, and Jungbae have stepped up and formed an arc in front, while Junhee and Geumja have tucked themselves close to you on the side Hyunju isn’t already occupying. 

A prickle on the back of your neck makes you turn around. Semi lingers on the back outskirts of the X congregation, giving you a grim look of understanding. Namgyu was antagonistic at the best of times when he was around Thanos, determined to assert dominance over whoever he could while wilfully remaining under the rapper’s thumb. Now that he’s standing alone, there is no way of knowing what side of him will rise to the surface. The two of you both know Semi isn’t exactly in his good books. 

You can barely see him, but tucked behind her and curled into a fetal position against the back wall is Minsu, who looks like a shell-shocked soldier. The remaining members of Thanos’ team are all in uncharted waters now. 

“Hold on!” You whirl back around to see Lim Jeongdae stepping forward, taking control of the narrative as usual. “What were the losses on each side?” People died, real people, but nobody can remember most of them by face, number or team. Jeongdae huffs after an uncertain silence persists. “Okay, fine- Everyone! Let’s go around and do a full headcount, okay?”

As the O team condenses down, you’re all corralled in tight to do the same. It’s not until the red players caught in the fight come over that you see Myunggi was among those. More than anyone, his face is practically drenched in blood and his eyes are numb as he joins you all.

Soon enough, you’re gathered evenly in lines and counted one level at a time by player 047. You feel like a puppet with your strings cut; were it not for the blaringly bright lighting in the dormitory you’re convinced you could fall asleep sitting up right now. Hyunju had unwound her arm from you as players began clambering up the steps past you, and you have to fight the urge to lean back into her just to close your eyes for a minute. 

As if the games weren’t bad enough, now there’s a non-zero chance that you’ll go to the bathroom and be murdered. Were they all just beaten and strangled to death in there? 

But no. Further down to your right, Yongsik fiddles with a stainless steel fork. This was on purpose. Makeshift weapons had been randomly and innocuously distributed throughout the remaining players, a ticking time bomb until someone prodded the bear just enough. 

You fold your arms atop your knees and let your head fall onto them with a burdened sigh. A throbbing ache in your throat from tucking your chin reminds you just how horrible your day has been already. A hand rubs your back for a bit, but you’re too worn down to care who. 

At the front, player 047 finishes his count. Two dead, which make the remaining three from the blue team. 

“That’s good,” you hear Semi point out, muffled by your arms, “we’ll have the advantage tomorrow.”

In excited whispers, some players begin to celebrate the likelihood of winning the vote next time, but they’re interrupted by a short tune chiming over the loudspeakers.

“Attention,” the PA announces, “lights-out will be in approximately 30 minutes. With the remaining half hour, please prepare to return to your beds for the night.”

You hear shuffling as several players start to disperse. The mood is tentatively optimistic; nobody who wanted to go home today will suddenly wish to remain tomorrow. But you know the O team will realise this as well.

Forcing yourself to lift your head back up and return to the real world, you cover a yawn. Across the hall, the blue team players that survived the fight send you all death glares. Alarmingly, Namgyu has tracked you down. You don’t know how long he’s been staring at you, but he’s practically walking side-on as he keeps you in his sights. 

As soon as you meet his gaze, he grins, teeth glinting and sharklike. Were this occurring half an hour ago, you’d be inclined to sneak over and see which buttons of his you can push. But despite a traitorous heat between your legs at how debauched he looks with blood on his face, you know this is the most unstable he’s ever been in here, and you don’t want to push your luck.

A few of the girls decide to take the opportunity to take a group excursion to the bathrooms. You quickly fall into step beside Semi. 

“That’s unfortunate,” she pipes up in a droll tone. “Who’s going to keep the weasel’s belly full of drugs now?”

Despite something shifting uneasily in you at her blase attitude, you do appreciate the attempt at levity. “Maybe he’ll vote to leave tomorrow just to find a new dealer.”

Semi laughs darkly as the two of you step into the hallway, which is thankfully clear of any evidence of a fight. “God, we’re so fucked. You know that? Whoever runs this fucking thing has just made it clear to everyone in here that hunting for sport is on the cards.”

You sigh, not just at the truth of her words, but at the massive queue that greets you when you turn the corner. Everyone has the same idea. Blessedly, there’s significantly less animosity among the women here. There almost seems to be an understanding to put the patches aside. Down at the far end of the cubicles, a red voter you haven’t spoken to before is sobbing in near hysterics. A blue team player is quietly handing her wads of folded toilet paper to dry her eyes and blow her nose.

The line moves quickly to your relief. You’re all aware of the clock ticking down, and nobody wants to be on the mean streets after dark. For your part, you stick with Semi, Hyunju, Junhee, and Geumja to ensure strength in numbers either way. The latter two are the first of you to use the bathroom; by the time the rest of you have finished up they’re talking by one of the sinks, thick as thieves. 

The way they’ve bonded over Junhee’s pregnancy feels like a silver lining amongst all the black clouds that hover over you. You can tell Junhee needs the affection of somebody who actually cares about her and her child’s wellbeing, and you wonder if Geumja is being reminded of her own introduction to motherhood. 

Sometimes, when she thinks nobody is watching, Hyunju stares at the two of them - especially Junhee - with a forlorn expression. You wonder if you’ll ever get close enough to her that you can ask why. In all honesty, you think you know why already.

“Very important news.” You startle a little when Semi steps up right behind you, interrupting your train of thought. The last one to rejoin the pack, she triggers the five of you returning again to the main hall. “I’ve been informed there’s a girl’s night happening at Geumja’s house.”

This wins a genuine laugh from you. “Well, it’s only a girls’ night if Yongsik makes some pretty big changes-” Semi shoves you but hides a humoured scoff, “but there is definitely a gathering, yes. I take it you got the invite?”

“I’m very honoured,” she says magnanimously. In the hall, the two sides have spread along each half of the wall, though most still remain in smaller groups for solidarity. You all naturally gravitate to the guys - none of which look like they’re going to bed any time soon. “Though I should warn you she’s absolutely playing matchmaker.”

You instinctively go to turn at look at Geumja in disbelief, but Semi grabs your shoulder before you can. 

“Don’t be so obvious!” she scolds playfully. “You didn’t hear this from me. She said Yongsik was soft on Hyunju because… I don’t know, something about a trip to Thailand? Made it seem like those two were getting along like a house on fire.”

“Oh.” You hope your voice doesn’t sound as pathetic as you feel. 

Semi hides her pierced smirk with a hand. “Don’t worry, I told her she had bad intel. Hyunju only has eyes for you, trust me.”

You, however, are unable to hide your reaction. A flush rises on your cheeks, so undeniably immediate. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating.” 

“I know these things,” she defends mildly. “You should do something about it before Geumja tries to marry you off herself.”

The thought of trying to casually bring up ‘I have a crush on you’ in conversation is laughable, especially when you already feel a little too entangled with Namgyu. It’s messy. You told yourself that was fine as long as everything was unspoken and unofficial, and you just don’t know if you’re ready to burst the bubble. “I mean, it’s not really a good time.”

“It’s the only time.” Semi pulls you aside slightly, allowing the others to overtake you and reach the beds first. She’s smiling at you still, but her brows have furrowed into something more serious. “You might die tonight. She might die tonight. Even if you don’t, who knows? It’s increasingly likely we’re gonna be stuck in this shithole until we’re all gone.”

“Glass half full, I like it.”

She utters your name lowly, almost pleading with you. “We are all so unbelievably miserable in here. Please take whatever happiness you can get. You owe it to yourself.”

Though the words warm your heart and alter your perspective, you narrow your own eyes at her. “Semi, are you and Minsu…?”

She whacks you, giving a stronger reaction than you’ve ever seen from her. “God, where did you leave your eyes, girl? On the carousel?”

“What? Here you are talking about confessing feelings, sounds a lot like you’re speaking from experience.”

“Minsu is- Well, first of all, he is not my type,” she says with a firm wave. “Minsu reminds me of an old friend.” Her eyes go a little glassy, but as she seeks Minsu out in the shadows of the bunks, her expression softens. “That friend isn’t… with us anymore. I guess it feels like I’ve been given a chance to protect him like I couldn’t with her.”

Your heart aches at the sentiment. “That’s really beautiful, Semi.”

Despite her sniffle, she looks as tough as ever. “Don’t be a pussy. Point is,” she emphasises sarcastically, though without any sharpness to her words, “you two pining is just a waste of time in here. Seriously; if we get out of here and you still haven’t said shit, I’m gonna take matters into my own hands.”

Laughing lightly at her words, you let your gaze fall to the girl in question. While the guys have relocated from the edge steps to a tight ring more concealed from the others, she’s again come to sit beside player 246. Before you can try and sidle up again, Daeho waves you over from his perch on the edge of a bed. 

The girls all take their own spots and you hop over Daeho’s legs to slot yourself in just beside him, Gihun on your other side. He waits until you’re all in your makeshift pack again with a strained expression on his face. “The O team are acting really suspicious over there. I think they’re plotting something against us.”

Jungbae doesn’t seem overly concerned. He scoffs over at them dismissively. “Who cares about those idiots? They’re outnumbered now. No one else is gonna change sides. We just have to wait for the vote tomorrow and we’ll be home free.”

Daeho is so stressed you can just about feel it souring the air. “I don’t know… They say things got pretty ugly in the bathroom earlier.”

You shift uncomfortably on the spot. The mental images of what could’ve gone down there to get Thanos killed - get five people killed - so out of nowhere haunt you. It’s hard to suppress the instinct to sit up and see what Namgyu’s doing now. Somehow you doubt your team would appreciate it. 

Gihun speaks up next, chin tucked and eyes unfocused. “Once the lights go out, those who want to stay will attack us.” A shiver runs down your spine, and by the look Daeho gives you, you’re not the only one. 

“Really?” Yongsik questions, face pale as he places a protective hand on Geumja’s arm.

Gihun sits up slightly and looks over to him. “If they kill us, they’ll be able to win the vote and increase the prize.”

Attack is one thing. You had wondered if perhaps they were going to try and intimidate or threaten players into switching to their team. But openly trying to murder as many of you as possible… “How can we even- Do we-” Your brain short circuits, and you feel hopelessly over your head. Hyunju is right. It’s different when there’s a perpetrator. Speaking of Hyunju, you straighten up and catch her eye intently. “Hyunju, what would you do?”

All eyes fall on her in unison. She lets out a bashful laugh, looking so sweet and unassuming with her gentle features and turned-in posture, but you know she’s capable of devising effective tactics. You’d follow her anywhere. 

Youngil speaks up unprompted. “We have to attack first.”

You and a few others - Gihun included - automatically recoil at the idea. 

He continues, “they’re probably assuming we’re just waiting until the next vote. Our only choice is to hit them first once the lights go down. They won’t expect that.”

For the most part, you remain focused on Hyunju’s reaction to gauge whether it’s a good plan or not. She’s poker-faced, but you can see the cogs turn. You can’t imagine outright attacking somebody. You weren’t even lucky enough to receive one of the foil-wrapped dinners with a fork inside, but you’re sure Hyunju could probably take down a whole bunch of them barehanded. Maybe you should agree to attack just to witness her in action. 

Player 047 is in agreement with Youngil. “That’s right, it would be better to gain the upper hand. Especially since we have more women and elderly on our side.” Unlike those on the O team, he doesn’t seem enthused at the idea of violence. Rather, he carries himself with a grim conviction as he pleads his case. “If we wait for them, we’re just going to lose. We need to ambush them first to even the playing field. That’s the only way to make it through the night.”

As expected, Gihun is the fiercest defender. “No,” he interjects intently, “we can’t do that.”

You feel torn. On one hand, you do feel that unfortunately Youngil and 047 may be right. On the other… It’s been about a year of trying to lay low and find a way out of the grave you’ve been kicked into, but never have you considered going on the offence. Despite being accused of murder, you know you’re utterly incapable of it. 

“But we need to get out.” Youngil’s tone is flat, certain. “It’s like you were saying, Gihun, there isn’t any point in just sitting around.” 

That’s not the first time Youngil’s thrown Gihun’s words back at him. You know Gihun sees the man as a friend in this game for some reason, but now he’s looking at him like he’s threatening to kick puppies. “That doesn’t mean we should just kill each other! That’s exactly what they want us to do.” Only sitting right beside him do you catch the way his hands tremble slightly. 

Jungbae leans forward. “‘They?’”

You lift your head up. The blinking red lights circling the ceiling like a halo stare down at you impassively. “The ones watching,” you murmur in response. The others glance up too; for some of them, it seems like they hadn’t really noticed the cameras at all. You raise your voice and turn to face Gihun head-on. “What happened last time? Do they really want us to kill each other even outside of the games?”

“It’s-” He breaks off, a pain seeping into his voice strongly enough that he can barely hold it steady. All this death has been shocking enough to you the first time around. He’s been reliving it all over again. “It’s different this time,” he finishes, “the games, obviously, but- Everything. We couldn’t vote after each game last time. There were some attacks, but it’s like those who run it are actually encouraging it this time around. If we try to fight anyone, it should be them.”

“You think they’re in this building?” you question in disbelief. 

Youngil lets out a laugh, barely more than a puff of air outside his nose. You glance over at him but his eyes are low and his face is neutral like nothing happened. 

Gihun lifts his chin, scorching gaze directed up. “They’re up there. The upper levels, at the top of the staircases. They run the games from a central control room.”

You only notice this because he’s beginning to slip into your bad books again, but Youngil’s eyes are equally blazing as he stares at Gihun. You can’t read his expression as blank as it is, but what you wouldn’t give to know what he’s thinking. Worried he might catch you looking, you turn away briskly to share a stressed look with Daeho, who looks like he might pass out at any moment. 

“There’s a man in a black mask,” Gihun continues, eyes distant in recollection. “He’s the head of the operation. We get to him, we can finally end this. For good.”

“How are you going to fight them?” Youngil challenges. “After all, they’ve got guns.”

Daeho winces and curls further in on himself. “That sounds like suicide,” he agrees, voice shaky.

“We’ll fight them with guns, too.”

Jungbae looks strained as he watches his best friend. “But we don’t have any guns.”

“We’ll just take theirs.”

He’s really thought this through, you can’t help but wonder. After a moment, that thought crystallises. “Wait,” you speak up, catching his attention, “was that always the plan? I mean, you must’ve come here with some idea of how to stop them.”

“My first plan failed,” Gihun admits solemnly. “I tried to take advantage of the voting, but not enough people listened. Even if we win all the games and walk out of here they’re just going to do this all over again. I can’t live with that.”

“So, what?” Youngil pipes up, eyes narrowed. You’re surprised he’s suddenly so opposed to Gihun after he’s claimed to go along with him every time before. “We just snatch weapons off of armed guards and then run upstairs? They’ll easily outnumber us.”

Across from him, Gihun is growing desperate. His entire body is tensed up, but his voice still betrays his emotional instability. “What do you suggest, then, Youngil? We try and murder as many people as we can during the night and hope not a single one of us do? You really think that’s a good plan?”

Hyunju, arms wrapped around her knees, voices the worry all of you are carrying. “Do we stand a chance?” Her doubt doesn’t bode well, you think.

“We do if we can catch them off guard. You think we could make it against team O if we got to them first? Trust me, those bastards upstairs will be the least likely to expect an attack. This is it. This is our last chance to put an end to these games and make sure they never happen again.”

You can see the logic. Will you risk death in the pursuit of killing off others who were manipulated into coming here just like you, or will you risk it to try and stop the manipulators from taking advantage of vulnerable people ever again? 

Youngil is the next to speak after a few moments of the group’s pensive silence. You can tell he’s lost, and you can tell it secretly irritates him. “Alright, then. How are we supposed to get their guns?”

“Here’s the plan.” Gihun takes a deep breath, nodding to himself. “Once the lights are off, we have to get under our beds as quietly as we can. I’m certain they’ll want to wait until they think we’re asleep, so make sure you stay aware and stay awake. We can’t afford to get caught by the other side. They’ll be out for blood.”

The thought sends a shiver down your spine. “But,” you almost cut yourself off wondering if you’ll sound naive when you say this, “do you think the others might want to help us stop these games, too? If they’re willing to kill, you know… We could always suggest they go get the money themselves.”

There are murmurs of disagreement among the small group, so you double down. “Think about it. They only want to continue to get more money, but they all understand they’re risking their own deaths at least three more times. Why not only risk it once, and get their payout tomorrow?”

Player 047 gives you a quietly condescending look. “Get real. If those fuckers listened to reason we wouldn’t even be here.” You know it’s borne out of the same stress you’re under, but you still feel thoroughly chastised, dropping your gaze to the floor.

“I don’t see you strategising,” Daeho snaps, subtly leaning forward in front of you. A weak smile quirks your lip at his protective defense.

“The plan,” Youngil reminds mildly, though his jaw flexes. “Gihun, you’re saying we just hide under our beds for the night?”

“Just until the fighting’s over,” Gihun insists. “We wait, and we keep still. We cannot afford to get pulled into the fight, do you hear me?” One by one, he looks you all deep in the eyes. Rhetoric as it is, you still give him a tiny nod of acknowledgement. 

“Hold on,” Jungbae steps in with a hand on Gihun’s shoulder, “that puts our fellow red voters at quite a disadvantage. Without us, they’ll be even more outnumbered, they won’t stand a chance.”

“I know, but if we get involved and get injured or killed, it’ll ruin the entire plan.” At Gihun’s words, Jungbae turns to send the other X voters - all obliviously getting ready for bed - a sad look. Gihun sighs. “If we’re missing anyone when it’s time to attack, it’ll be over before it even starts.”

Which is why we should try and get some of the blue team involved, you want to add, but hold your tongue. Perhaps you could try and approach Namgyu about it when the others weren’t paying attention. You can certainly envision him being happy to wreak havoc against the guards. 

Youngil glares at Gihun with baleful eyes. “Are you suggesting we make a small sacrifice for the greater good?” 

The phrasing makes you uneasy, and you can see it distill reluctance in the others. Gihun simply nods, already determined. “If we don’t, we’ll all die here anyway. This is our only chance. It will be worth the sacrifice if it means we can permanently end these games.”

“But…” Yongsik adjusts his glasses, face twisted in discomfort. “Will they just continue until they think we’re all dead?”

Gihun shakes his head. “The fight won’t last long. They’ll want to step in before too many players get killed or injured. After all, they still need us strong enough to keep playing.” Across from you, Hyunju has her eyes focused intently, memorising his every word. “Once the lights come back on,” he continues, “the guards will rush into the room and start getting the situation under control. They’ll first break up the fighting, and only after that’s done will they start to scan the bodies to identify those eliminated. That’s when we strike.”

“We play dead, and then we jump them?” you question nervously. “I don’t know how to fight.”

“Stick beside me,” Hyunju instructs lowly before anyone has the opportunity to speak. You suck in a deep breath, and nod at her. “Those of you who don’t feel comfortable trying to steal a gun, stay near somebody who does. We’ll do this together.”

Gihun seems to be relieved another person is actively willing to strategise logistics, and the rest of you fall into near-silence as the two speak back and forth, outlining, revising, confirming, until the plan is filed down to a streamlined schedule. 

After the talk concludes, you all begin pairing up and finding adjacent beds. Daeho surprises you by giving you a tight hug before he goes over to join Jungbae; Hyunju steps in to lead you to a set of beds on the outer edge of the group. 

You wonder if it’s fate giving you a little more privacy from the others given your earlier conversation with Semi, but now that you’ve disbanded for the night, it keeps ringing in your ears.

Hyunju sets you down. There’s still fifteen minutes before lights-out, so the two of you sit down on the same mattress for now. Perched on the edge, she turns towards you to begin quizzing you on every stage of the plan, every contingency.

“Don’t worry,” you assure her with a tap at your temple, “it’s all up here.” Heart thudding, you hitch your feet up on the mattress so you can sit cross-legged and face her. “But I have something I need to say.”

“Of course.” Her brow is furrowed like she’s bracing for worrying news. Now that you’re this close, you can see almost all of her winged eyeliner has come away with only the softest smudges remaining. It makes her gaze even sweeter. “You can tell me anything.”

This is it. “The truth is-” You inhale sharply, more nervous than you expected as you realise your inability to just come out and say it. “Okay, bare with me. I know we only just met this week and it’s been pretty hectic, and I might be getting a little ahead of myself, but Semi pointed out that we could pretty much die at any second so it seems kind of pointless not to-”

Hyunju interrupts by gently saying your name and resting a warm hand on your knee. “What’s going on?”

Words fail you. Your mind is going hazier with every second her attention, her anticipation, lingers on you. It’s too late to back out, your confession fizzing impatiently inside you, but you just can’t think how to articulate it.

So instead, you take a full breath like you’re about to dive into the deep end, and ask reverently, “can I kiss you?” 

Her surprise moves through her slowly. She doesn’t gasp, she inhales slow and lets it out even slower. Her eyes don’t fly dramatically open, but widen fractionally as her clever eyes assess your expression. But most of all, she doesn’t reel back in shock.

No, after a moment to process, Cho Hyunju leans forward to kiss you first.

It’s the gentlest brush of lips, but your nervous system reacts like it’s an electric shock racing right through you. Like the rest of her, Hyunju’s mouth is radiant against yours like warm honey. Your eyes flutter shut instinctively, and the loss of sight only heightens your other senses. Every nerve is alight - the tickle of her hair on your chin, the tang of sweat, the slight sigh when you connect - it all feels deafening, overpowering everything outside this precious bubble. 

When she pulls back, you briefly chase her before a fresh influx of oxygen brings you back to your senses just enough to await her reaction. 

“I never-” her voice comes out in a velvet rasp, and she swallows it down with a disbelieving expression on her face. “I’ve wanted to do that almost since the moment I met you,” Hyunju admits. Her eyes wander. “But I thought-”

You twist around to follow her gaze, and your heart stutters at the sight of Namgyu with his back to the wall, fiddling with something. The glint of beaten metal and the hand slipping up to his mouth makes you realise it’s Thanos’ cruciform pillbox. 

When you face Hyunju again, you shake your head. The reality of what you feel for him is complicated but it’s certainly not romantic and - especially now - is a dangerous path you think is wise to travel down now. 

Still, you wish you’d been given the opportunity to bring him in the loop as an old teammate. You could’ve at least given him that. 

“It’s you,” you promise, reaching down to grab the hand resting on your knee and interlinking your fingers. “Remember? You’re my Hyunju.” 

Relief breaks through in her expression but before you can admire the gleam it gives her eyes, she’s moving in again. This time, the kiss has more pressure behind it. Close-mouthed and sensual, her hands move up and frame your jaw to hold you in place for her, careful not to skim the bruising on your neck. You can feel her thumbs stroking your cheekbones, hands so broad it’s like your entire lower face is encapsulated.

There’s a rhythm to it, with her. So steady it’s maddening - you can time every kiss but you are somehow never prepared for it. You’re so close, so utterly entranced by her that you can even tune in to the slightest tap of the pulse in her palm. You’re relieved to feel it’s racing as fast as yours.

Her lips begin to roam lower though still in the same languid pace. First it’s the corner of your mouth and you wonder if she just missed. Then it’s just grazing your jawbone, and then- 

An embarrassingly guttural whimper is pulled from you when you feel her tipping your head back to expose your neck. Her hands shift down just enough for her thumbs to keep your chin pinned up. 

Unable to move, you’re at the mercy of her careful touch. Featherlight, her lips graze the sensitive skin of your throat. You suck in a breath, tensing reflexively, and you feel more than hear her shushing you soothingly. 

Overhead, the ten minute mark before lights-out is called, but you can barely parse the words. For all you care, you could be the only ones in the world or on display for the whole room and it would make no difference. 

Hyunju’s hair brushes over your neck as she presses a row of kisses down the left side of your neck just beside the red zipper marks. 

It’s only because you’re so enveloped in her that you can hear it. Hyunju’s whisper, lips moving against you like she’s confessing to the injury itself. “I would’ve killed him,” she breathes, and your heart stops. 

As the kisses continue their pilgrimage lower, closer to your collarbone, her name falls out of your mouth unbidden. Like you’ve broken a spell, she sits upright and pulls back just enough to look you in the eye. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t- I got ahead of myself, I-”

“It’s okay,” you jump in quickly. You’re still in a daze and you can feel a dopey, blissed-out smile on your face. “Do that anytime.” 

You mourn the loss of her hands holding your face steady as she moves them down to intertwine your fingers again. “We need to stay focused,” Hyunju insists, more to herself than you. “It’s going to be dangerous tonight. Don’t you leave my sight, okay?” 

The guilt is clearly written across your face as you fail to stop yourself from glancing across the room. No longer is Namgyu strung out and worn down on the mattress. Now, he paces back and forth like a caged tiger, running his hands through his hair as he keeps a close eye on the countdown, running below two minutes. How did the time fly by so fast? Any other night, and it wouldn’t have had to end so soon. 

“You want to speak to him.” 

You duck your head in shame. It’s impossible to explain or even understand what strange attraction draws the two of you together. It’s certainly changed form since Thanos’ elimination, but it hasn’t disappeared completely. “Is it not better to have more people on our side?” you ask weakly.

Hyunju’s smarter than that. “That’s not why,” she rebuts softly. “I’m not going to stop you, I know he saved your life. But please let me go with you.” 

Just like that, your heart blooms even more for her. “Of course.” 

She lets out a slow breath, pads of her fingers rubbing at the back of your hand. “After lights-out,” she decides after a moment. “None of our team can know, and the other team would never let us approach. If he comes over here - if - and we can safely take him aside, then I’ll stand guard and let the two of you talk privately. But the second things go sideways, we are sticking with Gihun’s plan, no exceptions.” With the last of the light, the PA counting down one second at a time, she holds your gaze with equal parts of fondness and authority. “Is that understood?”

You flash her a crooked smile. “Yes, Sergeant.” 

There’s just enough time to watch her eyes darken before you’re plunged into pure black. 

Before your eyes have a chance to adjust, it’s like there’s a void in front of you, all around you, with Hyunju’s hands your only compass. You feel her breath tickle the shell of your ear without realising she’d ever leaned closer. “Behind the beds,” she instructs, “we’ll keep an eye out for now.” 

Her eyes must be better trained to focus in low-light, because she guides you down and around a few columns smoothly and silently. You’re pulled further out from the group, on the sidelines of any potential action. 

With a strong hand slung across your shoulders, you squint across the room. The faint glow of the large O and X on the concrete floor begins to come into clarity with each blink. You use them - and the digital panel that’s still on over the doors - to keep yourself oriented. 

Gihun’s ominous prediction - they’ll be out for blood - rings heavy in your mind. “Hyunju?” you whisper under your breath, careful not to breach the silence.

“Mhm?” 

“I’m really anxious,” you admit weakly, “even more than in the games.”

You hear rather than see her shuffle around in place and feel the bump of her knees against yours. She must be right across from you now, cross-legged to mirror your own position. Even though your eyes haven’t adjusted at all, it’s a comfort to know you’re technically now looking at her. She utters your name in question in the exact same tone you’d called out hers.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not anxious at all.” Her voice lilts with a smile. “Do you know why?”

You shake your head before remembering she can’t see you. “Why?”

“Because I spent years training to subdue attackers in a hundred different ways.” A spark of arousal runs through you at the thought. “Part of my job description is operating in unconventional warfare.”

“This is pretty unconventional,” you admit, pausing for a moment before indulging in your curiosity. “Did you really go into super dangerous situations like that all the time?”

Hyunju lets out a low hum. “Not at first. Once you start earning your stripes, then you’re given more complex ops. Those were what I found the most meaningful, though. I do miss it.”

The wistfulness in her tone makes your breath hitch. The reality of how much she lost just from wanting to be open with her own identity. You wonder if you shouldn’t be asking her about it, that maybe it’s still too fresh a wound, but she doesn’t seem to be reproaching you at all, so you continue. “What would you do while you were waiting for something to happen? It feels like we’re in limbo.”

“I would run over the contingencies. Not very exciting. Although,” and she breaks off then to give another of her delicate laughs, the ones that make your heart skip like it’s a privilege just to hear it, “there were these two operatives on one of my teams. Without fail, every single stakeout they’d find a relatively private corner and make out the entire time. I’m pretty certain they might’ve actually had sex a few times on the job.”

You puff a laugh through your nose in disbelief. Every few moments, you hear a slight shift, and you can imagine Hyunju is instinctually checking the floor to monitor for movement. She’s successfully distracting you while never getting distracted herself, and yet again her tactical prowess is undeniably attractive. “Is that allowed?”

“Absolutely not,” she returns immediately, but again her voice is honeyed with bemusement. “But they were some of the most effective operatives I had. Honestly, at the time, I didn’t understand why they’d be in the mood at such a stressful time.” She goes silent for a moment. “It makes sense now.”

Your pulse quickens, and you hope desperately you’re not reading into her words wrong when you lean forward and close the distance between you. In the near pitch black, you can’t make out her exact location and your lips fall clumsily on her jaw. 

She sucks in a sharp breath and immediately chases your mouth with her own. As you come together again, you have to steady yourself on the corded muscle of her thighs, which tense further at your touch before relaxing again. Despite it being no darker with your eyes closed than open, they naturally fall shut when a hand winds around the nape of your neck, holding you in place for her. 

Every brush of her lips on yours, every bump of her nose and quiet hum has your heart practically buzzing in your chest. More dizzying still are the brief moments of separation where she checks to ensure the coast is clear. Instead of pulling away, she slides her cheek upwards against yours, chin pressed to your temple for a few seconds before she follows the path back down to your mouth again. 

She’s always brought an air of safety anytime she’s around you, but this feels like another plane. You’re held, truly encapsulated in her warmth and protection. You can comfortably have your back to the room and your mind elsewhere, knowing she’s keeping an eye out for you both. 

You want to speak up, to somehow express the swirl of emotions inside you, but the thought of losing a single kiss is unthinkable. Instead, you lean in closer until your weight is almost entirely on her thighs. 

A thick sigh leaves her lips as she lifts up to check your surroundings again, but instead of going right back down this time you feel her free hand curling behind your knee. She hitches it up with just enough strength that - without any resistance - you’re pulled halfway onto her lap.

The surprised whimper that bubbles up in your throat is dangerously loud, and she shushes you in a gentle coo as that hand drags up in uncharacteristic haste. With only the baggy fabric of your T-shirt in the way, her hand inadvertently slides directly underneath it as she presses it to the small of your back. 

Even closer isn’t close enough, and you’re taking the initiative to adjust your weight and lift your other knee up and over. Your shins bracket her crossed legs now, but you’re sitting entirely on her thighs as she encourages you to arch flush against her. 

You’re whispering her name like a prayer and she’s taking it right off of your lips as she kisses you again, fiercer though with no more urgency. With your hands newly freed you let them wander like hers had. Remembering her discomfort during the jegi game, you don’t venture low but instead rest them just below the swell of her chest. 

When she lightly presses back into your touch you grow emboldened, raising a single hand to cup her breast, thumb rubbing at her even through the layers of fabric that separate you. It’s her that releases an unbidden noise this time, a shaky exhale as she forces herself to pull away for a moment to glance around again.

You take the opportunity to dip your mouth and place a featherlight kiss on her exposed neck, just beneath her ear. The breathy way she calls your name is so beautiful you wish you could replay it forever. Instead, you vow to elicit it again.

The hand not occupied blindly fumbles for the zipper of her jacket. Try as you might to pull it down one-handed, you can’t get the angle right especially with your mind as melted as it is. 

It’s a moot point anyway, as she lets out a hum of dissent and lets go of the nape of your neck to pause you in place. “Not tonight,” she instructs lowly. She squeezes your hand and guides it down to the crook of her hip. So close you can feel the warmth of her breath, she murmurs, “will you let me touch you?”

You’re convinced she must be able to feel the vibration of your heart frantically pumping blood to your brain. It’s still not enough, however, as you can’t seem to articulate a single word. Instead, your strangled noise of assent speaks for you. 

For all you know, you may have died and gone to heaven. No more than an hour ago you were worried you were completely misreading Hyunju’s actions towards you, and now you can feel the heat of her fingers dipping below the waistband of your sweatpants. 

The hand on your back has migrated to your waist, thumb lazily stroking your hipbone as her other bypasses your underwear. To your surprise, rather than cupping you, you’re met with the back of Hyunju’s hand. Already wound tight and sensitive, you jerk against her when you feel the unyielding drag of a knuckle against your clit. Your thighs are gripping tight around her but with her frame larger than yours you’re helplessly splayed wide. 

She rubs at you like this, letting out satisfied little breaths at your every reaction. Your fingers are wound tight in the front of her jacket now and try as you might to continue kissing the smooth skin of her neck, the best you can do is keep your lips pressed there with the cool metal of her earring draped on the bridge of your nose. 

“Hyunju,” your voice cracks out, barely audible, but you know she can feel the vibrations by the way she nudges you a little firmer to make you shudder. You wish she’d let you pull down the zipper of her jacket if for nothing else than to give you more access to her unblemished throat. “Please.”

She gently shushes you again but acquiesces to your unspoken request. Her wrist turns between your thighs and you’re met with the pads of her fingers right at your core. Two fingers begin to coax their way into you and you reflexively tense up at their entry. She adjusts with a low hum and an encouraging stroke over your waist to instead begin with one. You go lax as it buries deep inside you, curled up slightly like she’s pulling you closer. “That’s it, sweetheart.”

Despite the fact that the O team may ready themselves at any moment - though that itself is a distant thought compacted to the back of your mind - Hyunju doesn’t rush. It feels like each movement is carefully considered and delivered like she has all the time in the world. Her hands are slightly calloused still from her work in the military and it only heightens the delicious push and pull of her finger. You can’t quite keep still, hips rocking with an insatiable desire for more. 

Like always, Hyunju can read you without words. Her index finger returns, and this time you’re all too eager to accept the extra stretch. Every breath is a shallow gasp now, fraught with the effort of holding back the moans you wish you could let out. The base of her thumb is flush with your clit and every subtle movement of her crooked fingers creates just that little bit of friction against it.

Gathering what little strength you have, you push a little on her chest to lift yourself up, desperate to kiss her. Again, you’re clumsy with it and knock her chin before meeting her lips. Hyunju’s steady pace between your legs doesn’t falter for a second as she indulges just as eagerly as you are. 

It feels like she’s all around you, filling your environment entirely until you can’t think of anything else. Your prior nerves have been replaced by a well of warmth both in your core and in your chest. You feel drunk on her yet every detail is crystal clear. While you wish you could see her, read her eyes and assess the minutiae of her expression, you overwhelm yourself with the rise and fall of her chest beneath your curled-up hands and the barely-audible grunts she occasionally lets out when you can’t help but clench around her. You shiver with the slightest brush of her tongue on your lower lip, so brief it may have been unintentional. You go weak under the strong hand on your hip that holds you anchored down to her. 

“Fa- Y- please.” Your mouth is incapable of anything that doesn’t involve hers, and so verbal communication fails you. Hyunju nonetheless responds and gives you what you need. She speeds up, not enough for the lewd sounds of her ministrations to make it past your sweatpants though the same can’t be said for you.

The moans you’d been suppressing fight their way out with the newfound pressure both inside you and against your clit. She’s undoing you with all the deftness you’d expect a special forces sergeant to have and as a fire begins catching you’re helpless to hold back.

When another fond but insistent shush isn’t enough to stop you whimpering as you tremble above her, she takes matters into her own hands. Your waist is left cold as she lets go of it but you’re quickly met with her fingers winding their way in your hair instead, nails inadvertently dragging against your scalp. 

Cupping the back of your head completely, she presses it down towards her and keeps you there. Your mouth and nose are now buried in the crook of her neck.

Without warning, a third finger joins the others and your shins nearly lift clean off the ground with the way you jerk from the divine intrusion. The broken whine that leaves you is muffled almost entirely by the collar of her jacket.

“I know,” she coos, “I know. But it needs to be now, sweetheart.”

You’re so hooked on her every word and motion that you could cry. The additional contribution of her third finger has opened you up enough for her to seek out the spot inside you that has you lightheaded and taut, and she’s making full use of the base of her thumb to rub against you more intentionally. 

You can’t keep still even as you feel so locked in to her. Every measured, swift stroke has you rocking into her desperately, back arching and thighs trembling, but your head is completely pinned by the strength of her unyielding hold.

It’s the only thing stopping your wanton moans from exposing your location, however, and as you approach the edge she dips her chin and plants it right against your temple. This close, you can hear the whispers of encouragement she offers. Every time she utters your name it’s like a wave of energy and you hope she feels the same when you whine her name right back.

Her strokes are shallow but thorough, dragging up against you relentlessly and speeding up further as you writhe and sob on her lap. Your urge to crest that peak battles with the desire to remain in this moment forever, letting the world fade around you.

Hyunju’s purpose, on the other hand, is clear. As one hand brings you closer and closer with every dexterous drag of her fingers, the other plays almost idly with the roots of your hair. The contrast has you practically keening, the determined accuracy of a sergeant with the sensual embrace of a lover.

You try and force your tongue to come up with any words at all, a warning that you’re right on the verge, but to no avail. But of course, she knows. “Go ahead, sweetheart, let it go.”

It’s like her fingers have electrified you. Your orgasm hits you like a bolt of lightning and you have to grip her jacket so tight your fingers ache just to stop from jerking away as she works you through it almost mercilessly. You’re shuddering and your muscles can’t decide whether to tense up or completely give up entirely. You’ve wetted her jacket, and you can’t tell if it’s from tears, saliva, or an obscene mix of both. 

Her fingers have slowed down but the pressure remains and she deepens every stroke until you’re completely undone, jaw slack with her filling you. She coaxes every last twitch, every hiccuping sob from you as your energy fully depletes. Once she knows you’re not making too much noise, the hand in your hair slides down to run up and down your back. 

She doesn’t return to kissing you, however, even when you try and reach up to wordlessly ask for it. As the time passes, she’s becoming more alert at your surroundings. Reality seeps in too quick as you try to catch your breath and sit back a little. 

When she finally slips her fingers from you and removes her hand, it’s like a part of you has left. You let out an exhausted sigh, fists losing their tension and moving to rest up on her shoulders for a little more stability. 

“Good job, soldier,” she quips lowly, earning a weakened laugh. 

“Holy shit, Hyunju,” you pant, “that was… holy shit.” Clearly, your communication skills aren’t returning as quickly. There’s a movement beneath you and the distinct sound of her dragging her hand against the fabric of her own sweatpants. The mental image brings another breathy laugh out of you, letting your head rock back loosely. 

The two of you don’t speak. The closeness is enough as your hormones slowly return to normal, though the flutter in your chest has only increased. You wish you could stay like this forever, wrapped up in her embrace, sharing the same air. 

However, the moment is cut short. Hyunju tenses up beneath you and before you can even comprehend it she’s swiftly lifting you up off of her and guiding you to duck behind the bed beside her. 

The sudden change of pace has your head swimming a little but you squint out at the dormitory to try and focus in. The only light you can see is from the large O and X symbols on the concrete. It only takes a few seconds before you see the red and blue begin flickering unevenly. Only it isn’t the lights themselves, it’s people moving across them, concealing fragments here and there as they pass. 

You tense up, letting a hand rise up to hold onto the front of her jacket again. You’ve kept yours off all afternoon to stop the neck of it from dragging across your throat, but now a shiver runs through you. 

“You don’t have to talk to 124.” You can barely hear her; Hyunju speaks so lowly that it’s only her extreme proximity that allows you to catch it. “We can stay here until the lights go back on. We’re safe here.” 

Those three words soothe you, but it’s not enough to change your mind. You shake your head before realising she probably can’t see you. “Let’s wait a little to see if he joins the others.” 

When she speaks again, that shiver returns in full force. “He’s already here.” 

That’s your only warning before one of the incoming blue team members bellows out a war cry, and a crowd of at least ten of them descend upon the X team. Again reinforcing how those running the game wanted this to happen, they’ve given you brief flashes of light to both reveal and disorient. 

You’re far enough away from the main group that you can see both the carnage and your friends hidden under the bottom bunks. The reality of your situation comes crashing down, and your knees turn to jelly.

Jungbae was right. Those outside your circle of confidantes are outnumbered and you’re forced to watch them be stabbed and torn at by forks and broken bottles. Nobody is looking your way; you and Hyunju will be absolutely safe if you stay where you are. 

But on the side of the attacking force closest to you is Namgyu, with a face so depraved he looks starved. Your eyes strain to catch details in each split second. The fork he clutches is already bloody. The outline of the necklace sticks out through his shirt, the jacket unzipped. He’s slightly bent at the knees as he moves closer to the chaos, eyes darting around to decide who to go for first.

Two thoughts strike you with startling clarity. First, that he’s not just capable and willing, but excited at the prospect of killing others. And second, that he would not kill you. 

Only one you can be sure is true, but you’re willing to bet your life on both. If nothing else, distracting him could save others. Staying low, you take a rallying breath and scurry one bunk closer with Hyunju hot on your heels. 

She murmurs your name once in warning, but doesn’t further protest. Instead, she slips ahead of you and takes the lead in your painfully slow approach. You’re running out of time, as you realise he’s not just skimming the crowd but scanning for somebody in particular. If it’s one of your friends who have all stuck to the plan, he’ll eventually give up and jump on whoever is closest.

Still, you force yourself to follow in Hyunju’s lead. She keeps the two of you trailing close to the tiled wall to prevent anyone sneaking up from behind. Bed by bed, Namgyu’s glee-filled, blood-stained face taunts you as he spins the glinting fork in his hand. Several times Hyunju pauses to give you a concerned look, before acquiescing to your silent request.

For all your promises, however, when you see Semi backed up against the wall just ahead, you realise exactly who Namgyu was seeking. And Namgyu has found her. 

He holds the fork high up by his face as he stalks in closer, calling out to her in a singsong voice. “Semi,” he chimes, his smile seething with rage, “why’d you have to be such a cunt? She liked me, you know. You interfering little bi-”

His words are drowned out by a bottle smashing right between them. You and Hyunju glance up in unison, along with the two ahead. They presumably can’t see from their angle, but Minsu is cowering on the top bunk of the column beside them.

Semi’s the first to keep her wits about her. She dips at the knees to swiftly pick up a larger shard of glass to swipe at him. Your heart is stretching so frantically in alarm that you’re worried you might actually pass out. The thought that either of them could be seriously injured… 

Ignoring the hands that grab at you, you spring out of hiding as Semi takes a swipe, barely missing Namgyu’s neck. Your earlier plan - excuse, you can admit - of getting Namgyu on board goes out the window as you realise the more pressing need is splitting the two of them up. 

Jumping straight between them is a death wish incarnate, so instead you resolve to get them off their rhythm, and Semi isn’t the wild animal right now. Drowning out your common sense, you yell out to Namgyu and reach out your hands to roughly shove him the second he turns to look at you. 

He stumbles but manages to hook a hand onto one of the bunk ladders and steadies himself too fast for you to actually subdue him. Namgyu looks up with pure wrath etched on his face, but it bubbles into a hyena-like peal of laughter as he splays his hands wide, still clutching onto the bloodied fork. “There you are, baby 123! I missed you today,” he whines with a mock pout. “Did you miss me too? Did she miss me?”

You hope the strobing light disguises the heat on your face. “What’s wrong with you, Namgyu? A week ago you were probably at your fucking nightclub drinking away your own salary, and now you’ve decided to become a murderer?”

In the corner of your eye you see Hyunju low beside you, out of sight of the distracted Namgyu as she tries to subtly wave Semi over. You don’t look at them directly, maintaining Namgyu’s heady gaze. 

“I’m not a murderer, I’m a winner,” he spits with a vicious smile. The worst part of seeing him like this, after Thanos has died, is noticing how much hasn’t changed. He’s still bouncy, still speaking like he holds all the secrets of the world, and still drawn to you as he steps closer and closer. “Don’t you get it? None of this counts. These aren’t real people. It’s just like swatting flies.”

Despite your racing heart, you refuse to step back. A loud shout and bang of metal disrupts both of you briefly and you see a random man latch at Semi’s ankle to try and yank her away. Hyunju immediately kicks into gear to get the player off of her. 

Normally, your eyes would be glued to her in her element, but you know you’re running out of time. It’s too dangerous here, and you’ve already broken Hyunju’s plan. When she’s back, your conversation will be over. 

“Thanos would not be here with a fork in his hand trying to kill a teammate,” you snap back at Namgyu, hoping to appeal to his obsession with the rapper. “He’d be so disappointed to see-”

“Thanos was the noose around my fucking throat,” Namgyu seethes, spittle flying. For the first time since you’d interrupted him, he raises his weapon again, though just to wave it around in frenzied emphasis. “He didn’t understand us! He had no respect, 123, you should’ve heard the shit he’d say about you. I saved you, I looked out for you,” he steps closer, jabbing the fork to point angrily at himself at each statement, “I deserve you!”

The next few seconds stretch out like hours. Namgyu moves forward. There’s strong arms wrapping around your torso from behind as a body steps in front of you. 

As you’re lifted clean off the ground and pulled backwards, you see Namgyu’s face morph seamlessly from mania to pure contempt. 

It’s Semi that moved in front of you. Even if you couldn’t see her, his reaction speaks volumes. With how close the two of you had been, Semi’s even closer to Namgyu. You can’t hear what she says, if she even speaks at all, but you see the way her hand shoots up, a shard of glass clutched so tight it drips red down the sleeve of her jacket.

Unfortunately, you also see Namgyu’s fork, that has a whole lot less distance to travel before it’s plunged into the soft flesh of Semi’s neck. “Hey, you- ah, fuck!”

“That’s what you get, you fucking cunt, you interfering little waste of fucking space, you think you’re better than me?” 

You’re screaming, though it doesn’t drown out hers, and a hand clamps tightly over your mouth to muffle it as you’re firmly lowered onto the floor and dragged under a bunk bed. Hyunju holds onto you so tight that your ribs can barely expand, and your full-body sobs are condensed down to small, hopeless shudders.

“All that time running your fucking mouth, and now what? Nothing to say?”

You can hear every single plunge of metal tines into her body, the blood that rushes out, the screams fading to unaided gurgles. 

Worst of all, you’re forced to listen as Namgyu curses vitriol at her the entire time, even after she’s fallen completely silent. He punctuates every word with another stab into what you’re sure is now her dead body. “This is what you get when you don’t mind your own! fucking! business!”

You don’t know what happened. You don’t know how you misread a person so severely. And now, Semi is dead because you thought you could talk him out of it. 

Once he finally stands up with a grunt of exertion, you think he’s just going to run away and find somebody else to kill. But instead he paces around for a bit. Not just anywhere. In a perfect circle around the bed you’re hiding under. 

“Little pig, little pig,” he sings with a soft laugh, “let me come in!” He only waits a moment, pausing right in the middle of a spreading pool of blood, before he lets out a tired sigh and a click of his tongue. “Sweet dreams, baby 123.”

With that, he paces away, presumably to find the next target. 

You’re shivering violently and the second Hyunju releases her hand from across your mouth you’re covering it yourself by burying your face in the crook of her neck. Your brain is short-circuiting so violently you can barely string a thought together, but the grief within you is in perfect technicolour. Muffling your hysterics, you wait for the ‘I told you so.’ It doesn’t come. 

You can’t say how long it takes for the guards to finally enter the room and turn the lights back on. Just like Gihun said would happen. 

“Come on,” Hyunju ushers firmly, “get out on the floor.” 

As you’d all discussed in excruciating detail before, you’d need to ensure you looked dead when the guards eventually came around to identify those killed. First they had to break up the fights still happening, but as several guards shoot towards the ceiling to grab your attention and many more bleed into the room, the window of opportunity is incredibly slim.

You crawl out so quickly you knock your head on the railing, swearing under your breath and squinting at the sudden brightness. Hyunju exits much more gracefully. You see now that she’s already got smudges of drying blood on her face and jacket, presumably from the fight you’d missed while you were trying to tame a predator. 

You, however, only have your throbbing bruise, which all the guards already know was non-fatal. With the quick thinking you know she’d honed to perfection at her previous job, Hyunju’s eyes flit around before she dips a hand into a rivulet of blood just beside you and promptly swipes it right across the front of your face, careful to avoid your mouth and eyes. 

In shock, you numbly let her lie you down beside her and close your eyes. The tear tracks on your face mingle with the warm red.

Beside you, Hyunju lies on her back, one arm atop her chest for quick access. You hear someone quickly hunker down beside you both. 

Playing dead feels like sinking into a searingly hot bath. It’s as painful as it is relieving. You breathe as shallowly as you can while the sounds of fighting quickly dissipate. The guards are instructed to count the dead. Every one of your friends is probably taut with anticipation right now, waiting for the tickle of a scanner at their collarbone to jump into action.

You, on the other hand, just want to go to sleep and never wake up. Your emotions are running through your mind so fast you feel drunk on them. More than anything, you just feel like an awful person. 

So when you hear quick and violent rustling followed by an ear-splitting shot right beside you, you hardly flinch. You just lie there, letting your eyes remain blissfully closed as Hyunju and whoever joined you subdue two guards. Further afield, you hear the same happen to other guards. There’s something a little satisfying about the way those now-familiar gunshots signify a turning of tables.

A hand squeezes roughly at your shoulder. You let out a miserable little whine, and the contact breaks. Satisfied you’re at least alive, Hyunju moves on to assist the others. 

The shots and sounds of struggle ring out far longer than you anticipated. Eventually, you force yourself to acknowledge that you’re not dead yet. You lift yourself up with eyes still closed and turn towards the sounds of fighting before you open them. 

This way, staring at the others gunning down the pink suits systematically, you won’t catch your friend’s corpse out of the corner of your eye. You wonder faintly if they scanned her already. 

You watch the fight play out, but every split second dissolves from your memory as soon as it passes. At some point, you noticed Geumja and Yongsik cowering behind a knocked-over bunk bed column, and you use that as your goal.

Just crawl, you tell yourself. You’re not strong, you’re not capable of taking down a guard, or shooting someone, or saving someone, but you can crawl. Even a dog can crawl.

By the time you reach them, your eyes are so glazed over you can barely make out the mix of concern and relief on their faces. Geumja immediately reaches out to stroke you soothingly on the back, but you can barely feel it.

You do manage to hear Gihun, as he stands in the centre to address you all. “Listen up! Gather round, please! We’re not trying to hurt you. We just want to get out of here.”

Slowly but surely, realising there’s no more imminent danger, the remaining O and X players step out from their hiding places. You recognise Hyunju’s silhouette as she moves among those with guns, giving them orders to follow. There’s Daeho, Jungbae, player 047. You’re looking at them all, but your eyes just won’t focus. It’s like they have no faces at all.

You’re reminded of that first fateful day, after you’d survived Red Light, Green Light. Just like then, Geumja is comforting you as your brain tries to lock itself out, unable to handle the bleak reality. That feels like a cake walk compared to now. 

Numbly, you watch their bodies move through space, collecting all the weapons, ammo, and radios from the fallen soldiers. They gather at the front, Gihun at the centre. You wonder if anybody else sees this as a grim mockery of the way the square guard would stand in front of you, flanked by his triangle subordinates.

“Everyone,” Gihun calls again, pulling back the room’s undivided attention. “We’re heading up to the masked man’s headquarters. We’ll capture those who captured us, put an end to this game, and make them pay!” He holds up the gun hanging from the strap around his shoulders. “Anyone who knows how to use a gun and wishes to join us, please step forward.”

The room falls silent. A faceless sea of teal.

Beside you, Geumja is muttering, voice thick with worry. You can’t tell who she’s talking to, and it’s too easy to let the words melt away. Even as Jungbae’s comforting tone calls out from the front of the room, all sound begins to be overridden by a muted static. Just like the bleary haze in front of your eyes, it washes out every little detail until it feels like you’re not really here at all. 

People move to the stage, though they just seem like spots of black passing across your field of vision. Geumja’s voice is raised for a few seconds and you see more black spots flit around but the words are drowned out by that horrible buzzing sound. 

Just like flies.

The acrid tang of vomit rushes up your throat so quickly there’s no time to do anything more than turn away from the crowd. With hardly any food in you, it’s mostly stomach acid, and as you grip weakly onto the metal struts of the bunk bed you’ve just thrown up under your eyes sting at the raw burn. 

You retch again at the sour taste in your mouth, spitting out what you can. It’s a physical catharsis, however, and part of you does feel cleaner for it. Almost as if you’re expelling the horrific events of the day. 

As the last tremors come to an end, you let out an exhausted groan. The shock to your system brings you back to reality just a little, though as you turn to face the room again your eyes refuse to focus on anything. 

Instead, you let them rest on your blood-stained canvas shoes and the polished concrete below while your energy goes into staying upright. You just want the day to be over, but you know there’s no chance anyone is sleeping tonight. 

 You realise belatedly the cotton in your ears has finally cleared, and you let yourself pay attention to the voices calling out in the room. 

“-bit much, but just give her some time.” You could recognise the comforting timbre of Geumja’s voice in your sleep at this point. Her maternal energy has kept you as sane as is possible these past few days. “She just needs a minute to gather her bearings, dear.”

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have a minute.” 

Your head shoots up. Hyunju stands in front of you, face stern with authority even as her eyes remain soft. You’re startled to see just how clear she is to you, startling detail after the dissociated blur you’ve felt steeped in. The tiny divot in the skin over her cheekbone, the fibres of mascara still clinging to the points of her lashes, the delicate cupid’s bow worn slightly dry from days without lip balm or skincare. She’s like water in a desert, something to anchor you in the moment. 

She doesn’t lose your gaze now that she has it either. In fact, she reaches out to carefully but firmly clasp your forearms just above the wrists to emphasise her words. “We’re leaving this room and finding the headquarters now. I want you to come with me.”

Geumja makes a low noise of dissent in the back of her throat, sending you an anxious look. 

“It’ll be dangerous out there,” Hyunju admits, “but I can keep a close eye on you. Of course it’s your decision if you’d rather stay, but…” Her eyes dart away for a moment, mouth tensing. You don’t have to follow them to know who she’s looking at. “I worry.”

“We have safety in numbers here,” Geumja defends, though her voice is more subdued like she doesn’t fully believe that. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Yongsik put a hand on her shoulder, and she curls in on herself a little. “You really think it’s safer out there for her?”

A gentle squeeze on your arms. Hyunju gives a slow nod. “We’ll move swiftly but cautiously. All of us will be armed, you included, and you’ll be with me at all times.” She murmurs your name softly, almost pleadingly. “The choice is yours, but you need to make it now.”

As much as you can understand Geumja’s worries, your choice had been made the second Hyunju voiced her wish. “I’ll come with you.”

Relief softens the tension between her brow just a fraction as she nods again, dropping her grip to return to the front of the room, tipping her head in a silent instruction to join her. 

You go to step forward yourself when you’re enveloped in a tight hug, all the strength in Geumja’s wiry frame wrapped around you. “You be safe out there, girl. I won’t appreciate you canceling our plans.”

Behind the mock sternness is a worry so fierce it makes your eyes glisten as you embrace her just as intensely. “I’ll be back in no time.”

She lets you go reluctantly, and you have to break into a half-jog to join the line of mostly men at the front. Behind them is a guard, unmasked. He’s far younger than you would have anticipated, on his knees in silent resignation as one of the X voters you haven’t spoken to before holds him at gunpoint. 

In the centre of the line-up is Gihun, who sends Hyunju a terse look before handing you a gun, so heavy the strap pulls painfully on the side of your neck where the fainter edges of your bruising begin. You don’t even want to touch it; the cold metal chills you through the thin fabric of your T-shirt.

Jungbae calls out to you all, first instructing you to check your ammo. You wouldn’t have the slightest clue how to do that, so you just stare blankly down at it. You swear you can see a twitch of Hyunju’s lips out the corner of your eye. He holds up a small handheld radio next. “And everyone, take a walkie-talkie so we can keep in touch. We’ll set the channel to lucky number seven.”

That, at least, you can do. A jacket is splayed out on the floor, filled with spare guns, black boxes that must be ammunition, and a series of walkie-talkies. You bend down to grab one and just about trip over your gun as it swings forward on the strap. As you spin the channel dial with a sigh, you wonder if you’ve made the wrong decision in joining this team. It blinks green at you, and you take your place beside Gihun again. 

With the poise of a seasoned leader, Hyunju steps in front of you all, holding her weapon high. “Attention,” she calls sharply. A strange flutter of arousal and pride fills your stomach as you see everyone - you included - straighten up and focus fully on her. Her commanding presence leaves no room for anything less. “This here is an MP5 submachine gun. First, to change magazines, you press this release lever and slide it out.” She grips it by a thick black holster towards the base, and smoothly reaches up to click out another black piece that matches the slightly curved blocks on the jacket ahead.

Clumsily, you try and lift it up, unsure whether you should be grabbing it from outside the strap or dipping your hand under. Like trying to play the guitar as a child, it just feels too big and clunky for you to grab onto it nearly as gracefully as she does.

“It should come out easily. Next, flip this safety down for sustained fire, and switch it up for single-fire.”

You drop the gun again with a grimace at the twinge in your neck, but by the time you glance up you’ve already missed the demonstration. On either side of you, the guys are fiddling with the settings with apparent ease, and your cheeks heat at feeling so out of your depth. 

Though her eyes linger on you for a moment, Hyunju continues. “We don’t have a lot of spare ammo, so set it to single-fire.” Your hands hover uselessly over the gun as everybody else clicks the right switch into place. “Finally, insert the magazine, pull this lever all the way down, then release. That’s how you load it. Are we clear?”

General murmurs of assent mingle with the cocking of guns. Without waiting, Hyunju is already making her way over to you, gracefully hooking the strap back over her shoulder and slinging the gun to rest across her back. Before she speaks, the two of you share a silent look rife with meaning. An acknowledgement of how quickly things have changed, how you’ll have to put aside what you’d done just before. An understanding reached, she softens with an encouraging smile. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, let me show you again.” Her casual tone doesn’t make the pet name impact you any less. You don’t even know if she meant to say it in front of the others with the way she gives a bashful laugh at your stunned expression. Time being of the essence, however, she quickly keeps you on topic. “You have to pick the gun up first.”

“Yes,” you agree easily. You blink. She gives you an expectant look, brow lifting with a slight curl to her lip. “Oh! Sorry, yes.” Actually reaching down to hold it, you glance around at the others surreptitiously to make sure you’re doing it correctly. One hand underneath the barrel - you scoop it up as carefully as a newborn’s head - then reaching around from the side to latch onto the back holster. You lift it up, still put off by the heft of it, then glance up to gauge her reaction. 

Hyunju rewards you with a pleased smile, eyes glittering. “Okay. Step one, that’s good. Show me how you remove the magazine.”

“The black chunk?” Her grin widens as she nods. You at least saw that part of her demonstration, so you can recognise the lever just behind the magazine that will dislodge it from the gun. You adjust your grip on the holster to bear the weight, and hesitantly reach towards it, pausing before you make contact.

She reads your mind. “It won’t go off. It’s not loaded yet.” Though it’s perhaps unnecessary, you welcome her touch when her hand dips down to support yours, guiding your fingers to wrap around the middle of it. She presses your thumb down on the lever and it slides out just as easily as she’d said it would. Her hand lingers before falling away. “It’s not scary, see?”

Your nerves still overwhelm you as you feel the density of the magazine in your hand, almost full. “Oh, absolutely, this killing machine is completely user-friendly.”

She clicks her tongue quietly, though not in annoyance. “I’ve made sure you have one to defend yourself. You may not have to even use it, but it’s important you know how. At least for my peace of mind, if nothing else.”

For some reason, it’s the notion that it would please her to have you know how to fire the gun that really makes you take it seriously. “What next, Sergeant?”

Hyunju pretends to ignore the term, though as always her breath seems to hitch after hearing you say it. “The selector switch. We want it on single-fire.” This time, she simply reaches over to do it for you. The gun is slung low across your hips, and the dial is right above the trigger - which you’ve been avoiding like it’s poisonous. Your monkey brain sees her hand nearing the apex of your thighs, and an instinctual wave of arousal flows through you to pool between them. 

“Put the magazine back in.” You follow, albeit a little shakily from the distraction. “What do you pull back to load it?” Hyunju gives a pleased hum when you point wordlessly to the knob sticking out of the barrel close to the tip. “Good. Load the gun then, soldier.”

For as much of a reaction as you get calling her by her title, you know she’s aware the effect she has on you doing the reverse. You have to bite down sharply on the corners of your mouth to stop your flustered smile but there’s nothing you can do about the blush. Instead, you tuck your chin down, pulling the knob down its groove until you feel a click, and let it go. 

Suddenly, it feels like you’ve got a live bomb in your hands. You follow the others and leave it pointing at the ground, but your spooked gaze finds hers. “Do I leave it on?”

“Not on, loaded. And for now, yes. It isn’t going to fire when your finger’s not even on the trigger,” she points out with a wry grin.

Your cheeks heat up even further. “True.”

Behind you, Gihun has taken up the position of holding the unmasked soldier hostage. The gun aimed at the boy is closer to a pistol, but it looks no less dangerous in Gihun’s hands. “Now take us to the guy who calls the shots around here.” His voice is gravely, determined after years of suffering from the trauma of surviving his hell.

Your first step is to actually get into the hallway. A simple shot to the glass window above, and Gihun is undoing it from the inside. Adrenaline spikes your system again. This is actually happening. You glance back at your friends who chose to stay before you step out. Geumja looks like she’s on the verge of tears, Yongsik not faring much better judging by the way he’s hunched over. Junhee stands beside them, hand cradling her stomach. You can’t track down Minsu.

And try as you might to resist the urge, you seek out Namgyu. It gives you a fright to see his eyes are already intensely locked onto you. He’s on his knees on one of the beds close to the centre, sat back on his heels. The top of Thanos’ crucifix pendant is trapped between his teeth, almost like a substitute for taking a pill itself. He fiddles with the chain lazily. It disturbs you to see he hasn’t made any effort in cleaning Semi’s - and probably other players’ as well - blood off of his face. The spatters only darken his gaze further, and when you step into the hallway out of view, it feels like a tie has been severed between you. 

Gihun leads the group of you as you move single-file through the empty winding hallways. Hyunju is the only one behind you at first, but she escorts you up further, overtaking a few others until you’re closer to the middle. The heavy silence is broken within minutes of you exiting, as the PA crackles to life. “Attention, players,” the female voice announces. You could swear there’s an icier edge to her voice, though it maintains the same level of politeness. “The day has ended. Please return to your quarters immediately for bedtime. If you do not comply with these orders, then you will be eliminated. Let me repeat…”

You try to tune the announcement out, though it doesn’t help the dread rising within you. You begin ascending the stairs, and Hyunju grabs gently onto your upper arm from beside and calls your name. “Hold onto the gun. Finger over the trigger guard.”

That dread sharpens to a fine point as you follow her instructions. You know better than to doubt her instinct, and she’s immediately proven right as a shot rings out with a hollow echo. Gihun returns the fire and a guard up ahead crumples to the floor, but he didn’t come alone. 

Seemingly out of nowhere, a line-up of pink suits have taken up residency in the balconies across from you. Gihun and Hyunju yell out almost simultaneously to duck, but the immediate weakening of your knees has done that for you already. Your shins knock painfully against the step above as you curl in on yourself, eyes squeezed shut as if that would make any difference.

“At your one o’clock!” Gihun calls out. 

You feel so out of depth you could cry, but a reassuring voice from just behind you gives you courage. “We’re moving up to better cover,” Hyunju instructs you, breath warm on your ear as she moves close enough to be heard over the din, “stay directly behind me and stay low.”

She gives you no time to acknowledge her. Maybe because there is no time, or maybe because she knows that you’ll follow her anywhere without question. “Cover us!” 

A volley of fire is discharged as the team keep the guards ducked away while the two of you ascend the stairs. Hyunju jumps in front to guide you. It’s no more than ten steps but it feels like full minutes before you’re reaching the top of the stairwell. The barricade is higher here, and you can crouch normally behind it. Hyunju presses a firm hand on your shoulder to ensure you stay down before she rises above it and begins shooting. 

You watch from below in wonder as she fires off every round with such purpose. Her jaw is set, and though you can’t see her eyes, her gaze is reflected in the efficient way the barrel of the gun moves back and forth. The others shoot too, but your side catches fire as well as the guards take the offence. 

Hyunju ducks down, eyes scanning over you quickly but intently to ensure you’re still uninjured. She must catch another guard in her peripheral, as she quickly springs up to take him out before he can get too close. The sudden sound makes you wince, but then Gihun is blessedly calling for a ceasefire on your end. 

The ex-sergeant confirms, “we’re clear.”

From below, Gihun turns to run a quick headcount. “Is everyone okay?” When he receives the affirmative, he gives a decisive nod. “Then let’s keep moving.”

He overtakes you and Hyunju, who is turning to fire off a few shots. You flinch, expecting to see guards coming out of the woodwork, but instead you see the cameras shot to smithereens with incredible precision. Before you get much of a chance to admire her proficiency, she’s ushering you along in front of her.

The route takes you further up the stairs and directly past the row of balconies the guards from before had taken aim from. They now hang limp over the edges or lay in crumpled heaps on the floor. You try not to look at them, stomach already sick enough from the death you’ve seen so far. 

The line is held up briefly; there’s enough of you that you can’t see the front from where you are. While you can hear Gihun’s voice from around the corner, you can’t make out his words. Hyunju moves the two of you closer to see what the hold-up is.

Suddenly, a single shot heralds a new string of guards along the corridors opposite you. You all duck below the divider and behind columns, but one of you isn’t fast enough. A player right beside Daeho is shot as he’s lifting his own gun. The force of it propels him back against the wall with a dull thud. 

Crouched safety under cover, you’re able to glance out just enough to see a petrified Daeho, fresh blood sprayed across his face and jacket. He numbly wipes it away, eyes frozen on the slumped-over corpse of player 072.

The fire from the guards is relentless. Every time you see Hyunju fearlessly break cover to shoot back your heart stops, but she’s careful and conservative. It seems like each bullet hits from what little you can see. Only when she’s back behind a column does she glance down to ensure you’re still safe. You grip onto the submachine gun in your hands tightly. Peace of mind. You now agree with Hyunju’s desire for you to have one. 

You look down the line, either side of you. Though they all seem shaken with fear, the others have stepped up to take turns trying to gun down the guards. That is, everyone except Youngil. His head is cocked towards the hall, gun at the ready, but yet he doesn’t move. He catches your eye, and you’re shocked to see how emotionless his gaze is, like all the personality he had in the games has fallen away. 

As the rest of your group bravely fight, you feel like the two of you are being cowardly just waiting out of sight. Even Daeho has stuck his gun out to fire wildly, though it seems mostly ineffective. The second you steady yourself and start to lift up, however, Hyunju’s hand is on your shoulder. She moved so quickly it’s like she anticipated your decision before you made it. The hand is firm, inarguable. With a swift shake of her head, she releases you and fires a few more shots off. For every guard down, it seems like two more appear, an endless stream with far more ammo than you have.

Down the other end, Gihun shouts out. “I’ll go look for the management area!”

Youngil frowns. “Will you be able to find it? Should I come?”

Alarm bells ring. Why would him coming solve anything if they didn’t know the way? Gihun moves swiftly past Youngil’s comment and declines his offer. “You need to stay here and buy us some time. I’ll go with Jungbae.”

You see the way Jungbae starts to curl in on himself before he stands to attention, following his friend’s lead as Gihun snags a mask from a guard on the ground and the two run around the corner. You jolt when you realise the previous owner of that mask is the young man who had been caught as your hostage and guide back in the dormitory. His eyes are open, unseeing, with a bloody halo wetting his dark hair. 

After the two depart, you all return your full focus to the onslaught across from you. Hyunju tosses an empty casing and pulls another from her pants pocket. Daeho has run out himself, and all the others are too preoccupied to notice. With yours entirely unused, you crawl low to the ground, weaving around the others to reach him. Hyunju calls out your name sharply, but then leaves it once she realises you’re not putting yourself in the line of fire. 

Gratefully, with a face whiter than paper, Daeho removes his casing and accepts the one you hastily click out of place. As you do so, a player behind you sees the exchange and yells over the din. “Don’t waste bullets like that! We’re running out of ammo as it is,” he scolds. 

Daeho nods jerkily. Your heart breaks at just how shell-shocked he seems already; you wonder if you share the same expression, although adrenaline is keeping you wired. As he tries to slide the new magazine home, however, his hands tremble so much it won’t slot into place.

“Here,” you yell, placing your hand over his to stable it enough that the magazine slides home and clicks in. You’re reminded of the way Hyunju had patiently done the same for you back in the dormitory. It seems darkly comical that you’d be passing the same care onto an ex-marine. 

His lips move like he’s trying to say something, but nothing makes its way out. Without thinking, you grab onto the bottom hem of your shirt and lift it up high enough to wipe some of the blood still gleaming on his cheek and jaw. His eyes are frantic like a cornered animal, but they lock on you long enough for a twinge of guilt to settle in. How long has it been since you’ve made the effort to have a proper conversation with him, check in on him like you’ve done with many of your other friends? 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Hyunju lean out a little to check in on you, only to jump back with a pained grimace as a bullet whizzes past directly in front of her face. Her bangs are whipped to the side for a moment, and she presses her back against the column with a steadying breath.

Your guilt only worsens when you realise you’re a distraction to her. You refuse to be the reason she’s in any more danger than she’s already chosen, and say a quick goodbye and good luck to Daeho before you’re turning to crawl back the way you came. 

“Chaewon-” a weak voice cracks out, and you feel a hand against your ankle, fingers latching onto your pant sleeve. It���s Daeho, chest rising and falling in such uneven stutters you’re almost certain he’s having a panic attack. Torn, you try to gently untangle his fingers, but his knuckles are white with tension that you can’t overcome. 

You feel helpless as you wait on your hands and knees, tugging at his hand while trying to reassure him. “I’m just going back down to Hyunju, you can come with if you like but I have to-”

You’re interrupted by a shout from above, the player who had told Daeho off before for being too trigger-happy. “This isn’t getting us anywhere, there’s too many of them still coming. Let’s follow the others to the upper levels!”

Youngil raises a good point. “We might get surrounded if we move together without a plan!” Still, he hasn’t made a single attempt to fire his weapon. Nor has he offered the others his spare magazines as they run out one at a time. “Let’s wait until they find the control room!” 

Finally, he springs up and attempts to shoot a few guards before ducking back. Just scared, then, you have to admit, like you are. 

In the opposite direction, you hear a yell and a heavy thud. The player on Hyunju’s opposite side is pelted down by a guard approaching from the way you came. Your heart stops as you realise she’s now vulnerable as she seeks cover. With a newfound strength, you rip your leg away from Daeho and scramble for your gun as you spring forward towards her. 

The shot you fire goes off too soon, before you have the chance to actually lift your gun properly, but it does hit. The guard stumbles forward as a spray of blood flies from a shattered kneecap. Without hesitation, Hyunju has finished the job with a single shot to the head, and the guard falls lifeless to the ground. 

Adrenaline thrums in your ears as you realised what you’ve done. What your instinct helped you to do. Despite herself, when Hyunju looks over to check on you, she grins for a split second in what seems like pride. 

The immediate threat resolved, she returns to her prior cover and checks her magazine, tossing it onto the floor when it’s revealed to be empty. Smoothly, from doing it thousands of times before, she replaces it and reloads without looking, her eyes instead doing a scan of those of you still here. “Everyone!” she yells out. “Check your magazines!” 

You don’t know why you assumed there were far more bullets in each black box than there apparently are, as each person’s answer surprises you. Not only are you all but out of spares, the ones in use are all half-full at most. Daeho has emptied his entirely. You would have no idea how to check yours, but you know already it’s practically full. Hyunju shares a terse look with you, so you don’t say it aloud.

“I’m almost out too,” Youngil shouts. 

“Really?” you yell back without thinking. “Did you check?” He’s fired off a few more between now and the first time, but you’re sure it wasn’t very many. 

The stony glare he sends you makes you recoil, but his expression is cut off by the crackling of his radio. It’s Jungbae, who announces, “Youngil, Daeho! We’re right below the control room, I think, but we have hardly any ammo left. We need backup!” 

“We’re running out of ammo, too,” comes the immediate response. Youngil doesn’t make eye contact anymore, and you don’t mourn the loss. You quickly pull out your own radio and hold it up so those of you down the other end can hear a little clearer.

You turn to a movement in your peripheral. Daeho, now with an empty gun, is coming over to you and Hyunju, severely flinching at every single shot of the many that rain down. Daeho crawls like you did, though one of his hands is raised protectively over his head, and it’s slow going on three limbs. He’s looking at you, but his eyes are distant and unfocused like he’s not actually seeing you. 

“There should be spare ammo in the guards’ pockets in the dormitory,” Gihun instructs over the radio, “go get them!”

Hyunju, who had been gunning down some new arrivals across from you, pulls back to grab at your shoulder again once she hears the message. You already know what she’s about to say. “We’ll go get the magazines! I’ll come back as soon as I can, so just hold on until then!”

You don’t miss the way she switches from ‘we’ to ‘I.’ You wonder with a stab of worry if your current situation is worse than she anticipated, given how strongly she advocated for you to accompany her. Down the hall, you see Youngil has already left with two other players, this line of defense dwindling further. 

Before you can decide how you feel about Hyunju leaving you behind, Daeho has caught up to the two of you, shakily raising the hand that was just shielding him. “Hyunju, let me go! I- I’m out of ammo anyway.” To illustrate his point, he hitches the strap over his shoulder and leaves it beside him.

Gyeongseok pokes his head down. “Do you know the way back?”

Even though Daeho nods, Hyunju bends down a little as well to meet his eye. “We destroyed the cameras along the way, Daeho, you just need to follow them there and back.” 

He nods, but his eyes flit towards. “Can-”

Wary of time, Hyunju steps between the two of you and gives him her own gun. “Take this, then. You might run into more guards on the way.” 

He looks on the verge of passing out, but sends her an unconvincing smile. “Thank you!”

She nods swiftly, then waves him past. “I’ll cover you,” she declares as she gears up with the spare gun she’s kept slung across her back, “now go!”

He scampers away, low to the ground, and your stomach rolls in dread. Recently, it’s felt like every time you see someone might be the last time. You never even said anything on his way out. Soon after, however, as the others keep the guards at bay, his voice springs to life on the radio, announcing to the others that he’s on his way to get the spare magazines. 

“Thank god,” Jungbae’s warm but panicked voice returns, “please hurry, Daeho. We’re counting on you.”

A stiff pause. “Yes, you can count on me, sir! I’ll be there soon.”

Hyunju calls your name to catch your attention. She’s holding what looks like an empty case with a grim look. “Could I swap with you? There’s only a few in here.”

“Take it!” With hands shaking from haste, you follow her directions from back in the dormitory and press down on the lever to release yours - only a single bullet missing. After the trade, you click her old one in place.

You notice now she fires minimally, despite the receiving end being louder than ever. Some of the others begin curling down in defeat too as they run dangerously low. “How long is he going to take?” one of the guys questions miserably. “Do you think he got lost?”

Your stomach feels heavy like a sinking ship. Pressing down on the walkie-talkie, you call Daeho’s name over the sound of Hyunju shooting above you. “Are you still there? Have you made it to the dorm yet, Daeho? Hello?”

A rough hand reaches down. Hyunju, face set with grim determination, guides your finger to lift off of the transmission button so you’re not blocking the line. She manages the smallest smile to you before returning into her militaristic posture. 

Still, however, there’s no response. You check the settings, the channel, you even shout down to get someone else to use theirs to make sure it’s actually receiving. Everything works, but there’s no Daeho. “Are you okay? Did you get the magazines, Daeho? I’m sorry but we’re really desperate here.”

Angry, the player who’d tested the frequency presses down to transmit. “Guy, where the fuck are you? We’re not gonna last much longer if we can’t shoot them, you know?”

You flinch at the harsh tone, even as you acknowledge the truth of his words. Glancing up at Hyunju, who has no choice but to conserve bullets for now, you give her a pleading look. “Do you think he’s sh- Hyunju, do you think he got shot?”

Her expression is grave. She shakes her head, not in dissent but in uncertainty. “Something must have happened. We’re going down to check.”

This time, you have no interest in disagreement. Adrenaline is only going to power you so long, and the hopeless look on the others’ faces fills you with dread that’s threatening to override it. 

Behind you, Gyeongseok lets out a shaky, “please do!”

Hyunju announces the plan to the others, before instructing them to cover you both. As soon as the players begin releasing their precious few bullets, she practically yanks you up by your collar to guide you back the way you all came. 

The sharp burst of pain in your throat barely registers as you fumble to get your feet beneath you and hold our own weight.

“Gun up!” she calls back without looking, intently scanning your surroundings as she takes the lead. She’s running as fast as she can without being reckless, and you try to at least keep an eye out for the distinctive pink of the guards’ suits as well. 

It’s a good thing you do, too, because the pair of you only make it around a few corners before you glance a triangle guard taking aim from a turret high up close to the ceiling. Recklessly, you don’t think to call it out before you fire a shot off yourself.

This time, you miss by a long shot, but it at least serves to make the guard duck back briefly and get Hyunju’s attention. She only needs one shot before the guard is tipping over and falling from the turret all the way down to the ground. “Good catch,” she compliments, and the quick smile she gives you again has you glowing.

There’s no chance to cherish it, however, as you continue forth and quickly come across a lone walkie-talkie in the middle of the floor a few metres away from the corridor that leads to the dormitory. Your heart drops. 

“Daeho?” Hyunju screams out intensely, lowering her gun as she puts all her energy into sprinting forward, bounding down the hallway so quickly you can’t keep up. “Daeho! Are you in here? What happened?”

By the time you make it into the hall yourself, Hyunju has already located him thanks to Yongsik pointing the way. Ignoring the eyes on you and Geumja stepping forward as you pass, you follow closely behind. 

Cowering against the back wall with his ears covered, Daeho looks completely distraught. Now in his line of sight, Hyunju calls his name again insistently, making him flinch so strongly it looks like he’s been struck. 

You look over him, but can’t see any injuries. Hyunju steps forward. “Daeho, what happened; did you get hurt?”

His lips tremble. He presses himself back tightly against the wall, putting as much distance between him and the still-armed Hyunju. “I’m sorry,” he confesses to her in a shameful tone.

She springs forward, grabbing onto him by the knee as he fails to back away further. “The magazines - where are they?”

You glance around at the rest of the room for a moment. All of them are dead silent, just watching. Some with empathy, others disapproval. On the far side, a few of the O voters are mimicking his cowering form. 

Daeho has no answer for Hyunju. The only thing he can do is apologise again. When she sees a tied-up jacket just past his feet, she lunges to open it and he actually throws an arm up over his face in defense. 

Instinctively, you step towards him to comfort him, before halting in place, too worried you’ll spook him further. 

The jacket is filled with the ammo you all needed. As Hyunju tights the sleeves to secure the makeshift bag again, she looks up at you with blazing eyes. “Stay here,” she instructs with no room for disagreement. “You do not, under any circumstances, leave here until I come back. Understood?”

Truthfully, you do want to disagree. You want to keep her in your line of sight permanently while the imminent danger persists, but you recall the way her checking for you only served to cause a near-miss from a stray bullet. If you’d be a distraction, it’s better that you stay here. “I understand,” you let out weakly but genuinely.

She gathers the bundle in her arms. You want to go out to at least see her off, but you’re stopped by a grip on your shirt so tight it pinches the soft skin below. Daeho, once curled up in fear, now lets it give him strength as he holds you in place with that same sharp but unfocused stare. 

“I’m sorry,” he pleads in a broken voice.

“I know.”

“Chaewon, I didn’t mean to-” A sob rips through him. His hands fisted in your shirt tremble violently as his head begins to hang limp. “I’m sorry, I’m so…”

You have no idea how to respond to him, but the choice is taken from you anyway as a rapid succession of three shots echo painfully around the open space.

Daeho’s hands fly off of you to cover himself again with a guttural yelp. You immediately turn to run towards the sound, only to bump right into Hyunju.

“Get down on the floor!” The unmistakeable voice of the leader rises above the sounds of panic. Through the bars, you can see at least ten armed guards advancing down into the centre to enforce the command.

Hyunju guides you down in obedience, but then begins using one of the spare magazines to reload her gun. You have to fight past the paralysing fear within you to reach out and stop her hands in their tracks. “We’re outnumbered,” you hiss desperately, “and nobody else has guns anymore.”

Hyunju uses her strength to keep reloading frantically. “We have to-”

“What if they miss?” you ask hurriedly. She pauses for a second and glances up. Around you, all of your friends that didn’t go out on the mission are crouched on the floor with their hands up, sending the two of you worried looks. Reluctance blooms on Hyunju’s face.

In particular, Geumja moves forward to place her hands on her shoulder. She’s fighting tears so valiantly her lips won’t stop trembling. “Don’t do it. Don’t die like this.”

It takes a few moments, but finally something in Hyunju breaks and her body goes lax. She lets the gun lift up and off of her and clatter noisily into the pile of ammo. It’s almost like the sergeant in her has aborted the mission, given up. 

In relief, Geumja pulls her into a tight hug, ushering her onto the ground properly as she pushes the pile of bullets and the gun away from you all. 

“All players,” the PA chimes as armed guards continue to do a full sweep of the terrified players, “it is now bedtime. The lights will go out in ten minutes. I repeat: it is now bedtime. The lights will go out in ten minutes.”

In defeated silence, you watch as a pair of armed guards approach to confiscate the magazines and guns. Hyunju gives them a deeply disapproving look but doesn’t protest. They move throughout the room systematically as the time clicks down. 

The forklifts enter, too, and you bury your face in the mattress beside you to make sure you don’t catch sight of Semi. 

The timer clicks down. Nobody speaks. Eventually, the mechanical whirring dies down and the armed guards retreat. 

The dormitory is left a near-empty cavern. Even the O voters, who had all but remained, are solemn as they sit down on their beds. As those around you reluctantly get ready for a sleepless night, you mourn all those you lost. Without ammo, the others didn’t stand a chance. You and Hyunju probably would’ve been shot down out there too had you not sought out Daeho.

Speaking of, he’s already burrowed underneath his thin blanket to shut out the world. You catch Yongsik sending him a foul look before dragging his mother a few rows down. Junhee joins them after a moment. 

Hyunju hovers, waiting for you. You do move further from Daeho to give him some privacy, but instead of finding your own bed close to the others, you find a spot closer to the wall and begin lifting the mattress off of the bottom bunk. She hangs back a moment in confusion as you do the same with another. There’s barely enough room between columns to squeeze the two side-by-side, but as soon as you do you hear Hyunju let out a laboured sigh of realisation. 

You scout out more blankets from unused beds, avoiding any with crusted-over bloodstains. It’s not until you’ve piled so many on the adjacent mattresses that they’ve formed their own layer that you notice you’ve been crying. 

Sniffling and wiping your face with a blanket you then discard to the side, you look up to give Hyunju a hopeless look. The two of you don’t need to share words; you slip your bloodied shoes off and she does the same. She lies down, holding the topmost blanket back and you slot yourself in the awaiting space. In unison, the two of you turn together as the lights die and plunge you into darkness.

You don’t sleep. But with your hand resting on her stomach and her arm wrapping around your middle from underneath, you at least feel like you can rest.

[theonlymanny]

Batfam x male reader

Angst. Comfort?

Prologue Summary (I forgot to save): Constantine travels to Gotham because he felt powerful, raw magic. Batman and the batfam try to help. Again they tried because none of them knew anything about magic.

Batman was someone that didn’t like metas and magic on his city. It almost never happens, but it seems that Gotham was a little bit too peaceful and calm… really weird.

It was a quiet night, you and the family decided to take some time off the vigilante life, but Bruce didn’t like that. He decided to stay on patrol all night with robin, AKA Damian Wayne.

Things got really messed up when Bruce brought Damian to the manor, the only one that seemed to stand him a little bit was Dick.

Jason and Tim on the other side were kind of not fucking with it. Tim didn’t care, he understood why he was born and it wasn’t exactly Bruce’s fault. Jason lost all the little trust that he was building up with Bruce, once he saw Damian.

He wasn’t pissed off because of having another brother. He was mad because not only did he make another child suffer, but he cheated on you, again.

Dick loved all his brothers, although while time passed he seemed less talkative, less energetic and enthusiastic. Every time Bruce tried to talk to him he would just say hi or just wave awkwardly. He tried his best to be positive and supportive as he was, but he couldn’t help himself from lashing out on Bruce.

The night Dick came back to the manor he thought it was just going to be another kid Bruce found. But as soon as he saw you throw your ring at Bruce’s face with tears on your eyes. His whole world changed. He screamed like he never had before. He couldn’t blame Damian. After all he was the product of Bruce’s infidelity.

You couldn’t hold it anymore, all the emotions you felt when Bruce stabbed you in the back over and over again… you felt trapped. The healthy way of solving things were if you got a divorce and left him behind, but you couldn’t do that. You couldn’t leave your boys and Alfred alone in this mess of a family.

All that thoughts and emotions seemed to bring something back on you. Something more powerful and dangerous than everything you’ve seen before.

3 days after you found out about Bruce secret child, Dick decided that you would stand up and have some fresh air. After all you can’t stay in your room for more than 3 days without coming out of your room. You somewhat agreed and wore the biggest jacket you could find in the manor.

“How about we have some ice cream? Oh remember that place where we used to go every day when I was younger?” You smiled at the memory, Dick begged you to take him there every Friday afternoon. And then there was him… how he would hold your hand and kiss it. How he changed for you and Dick.

As soon as he saw you tear up, he grabbed your shoulder and sprinted to the old ice cream station. “Hey how about we get your favorite?” Dick nervously smiled and didn’t let you think of anything before he interrupted you.

On Dick’s mind, he thought that if you forgot about everything that happened in the past you would feel better. That’s why he didn’t let you think of anything.

“How about we go watch a movie later! Didn’t you use to watch those old movies about magic and fantasy?” You opened your mouth to talk, but you were interrupted again. “A Disney movie? Or maybe a Dreamworks movie?”

“Dick…”

“I do usually prefer Disney movies”

“Dick”

“But if you want to watch-”

“DICK!” You screamed with the energy you had left.

“I know what you’re trying to do… helping forget about the past won’t help. I am so stupid, to think that I could have a happy life with a play boy. I can’t handle it! I mean I forgiven him about 4 time now, and if I forget about what Happened it will just happen again!” You finally let your tears out all those emotions hidden deep inside you.

“You’re right… no matter what I do. I can’t fix anything! I thought I could make a difference. That maybe this time Bruce would learn. But I’m always wrong!” He hugged himself and tried to hide his face.

“It’s okay… really, but I don’t think me and your father will be the same ever again. Don’t hurt yourself because of our decisions… Dick you are always there when I was in my lowest moments, when I felt like my world would crash down… and you were there for me.”

You smiled with some tears running down your burning cheeks. “Soon… I realized that you were my world. You and all of your brothers… that’s why I never give up. I couldn’t afford to see all of you hurt because of me. I’m strong because of you…”

“I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry that I could realize that I was wrong… since the first time I met you dad, I thought I wouldn’t move on of my parents death, but you showed me love, you showed me what Bruce couldn’t give me. You showed me a family.”

After a long 10 minutes of hugging, you noticed something strange. The cashier that you knew was the old, ice cream man’s daughter. She seemed sad and sorrowful. You thought it was just something that happened to her or something, but when you looked around the store.

You panicked, you were ignoring the signs at first, but now it started to worry you a lot. Not only were you controlling everyone’s emotions and thoughts.

“It’s everything okay?” Dick looked at you worried if something happened. Your mind quickly went back to your body making you shiver.

“Yes just this ice cream has sprinkles and I don’t like sprinkles!” You awkwardly and nervously answered. “Hey what do you say about we go watch the movie that you suggested, I’ll help me forget about what’s going on.”

You stood up and walked to the exit not noticing a pair of eyes that were watching every move you took.

“Seems that I have found our magic source…” the man smiled and also stood up to the exit.

—————————————

So… it’s been a while. I wanted to write a little something for my children. Anyway I had this idea for a while, Batdad that has the power of an alicorn from MLP or something like that. NOW HEAR ME OUT, I PROMISE IT WONT END UP LIKE SHIT.

This is just a short prologue to see if it has potencial. Also cuz this has been in my head for a long time. Anyways bye people.

And GO TO SLEEP.

[sinkuna]

୨୧ — You knelt gently on the cool stone floor of his temple, your delicate hands arranging a bouquet of colorful blooms in a vase. Your soft melodic humming weaved through the air and turned the usually oppressive temple into something almost… domestic.

"Still cluttering my temple with this worthless garbage?" Sukuna growled, though his eyes never left the gentle sway of your movements. "Must you insist on filling every corner with these weeds?"

"They're not garbage, they're flowers!" You held up a bloom for his inspection, completely unfazed by his scowl, "This one kind of reminds me of you- all thorny on the outside…" you smiled sweetly at the flower, a tint of pink dusting your cheeks, "but the petals are so soft."

The mouth on his stomach let out a derisive snort.

"Comparing the King of Curses to a common weed? Your boldness knows no bounds, does it? I could burn them all to ash with a thought," he threatened, multiple hands clenching, "Turn your precious flowers to nothing but dust."

"Buuut you won't," you sang out, struggling slightly to stand with your swollen belly. Before you could wobble and lose balance, his hands were there, steadying you. The moment he realized what he’d done his gentle touch turned into a somewhat harsh grip, the action of tending to you making him bare his teeth in self-disgust.

"Pathetic," he spat, though his hold remained carefully mindful of your condition, "You're as weak as these weeds you love so much." He clicked his tongue, "Tch, and I don’t believe I gave you permission to move, know your place… woman."

"Hmmm~?" You arched your brow at him, "And where is my place?" You asked playfully, leaning into his touch despite his harsh words. Your hand reaching up to caress the curse marks on his arm.

The mouth on his stomach snapped its teeth, "At my feet, where you belong."

"Funny," you mused, "that's not where you kept me last night~."

His grip tightened, just shy of painful, "Watch your tongue, little lamb.." One hand found your throat, thumb pressing against your pulse point in warning, "That tongue of yours grows bolder by the day," Sukuna snarled, another hand tangling in your hair with barely contained violence. "Perhaps I should I finally rid myself of that mouth of yours..." his nails drags across your neck, "rip it out and feed it to-"

You merely tilted your head, exposing more of your neck to his threatening grip, "rip it out with those hands that hold me so carefully?" You pressed closer, fearlessly touching the mouth on his stomach, which immediately ceased its smirk.

"You're nothing but a temporary amusement. A warm body to entertain me. A vessel for my-"

The mouth on his stomach started to add something undoubtedly vicious, but fell traitorously silent when Sukuna heard the next words that slipped from your lips, "Is that why you check on us every night?" You asked, eyes looking at him knowingly, "To inspect your vess-!"

He cut you off by pulling you roughly against him, four hands positioning you exactly where he wanted you, "You talk too much." A vein pulsed dangerously in his temple before The king of curses releases a sound of frustration, "I'm ensuring what belongs to me remains intact. Nothing more."

"And you pretend too much," you whispered, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his clenched jaw, "my fearsome lord who also waters his "vessels" wilting flowers as she sleeps soundly with his growing child."

Sukuna's eyes narrowed dangerously, "I do no such thing..."

He should have pulled away. Should have done what he’s done to others and remind you exactly why he earned the title King Of Curses... Instead, he found himself drawing you closer, allowing your warmth to seep into his cold existence.

"Your weeds are still worthless," he muttered against your hair, but all four of his arms continued to cradle you protectively.

Sukuna Ryomen wanted to destroy you. To erase your existence…

This pure, ridiculous woman who dared to mock his threats with smiles and gentle touches. But as you turned back to look at your arrangement of wee- flowers…, humming contentedly in his embrace, he knew with sickening certainty that he would tear apart anyone who tried to harm you and his unborn brat before he ever laid a violent hand on you himself.

⋆｡˚꒰ঌ 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ໒꒱˚｡⋆

[urmum-lovesme]

Ok but toxic!dad!rafe where this don’t effect the children’s life but when it come to the mother of his kids he’s still very overprotective. I mean she is a MILF.

This is the best thing I've ever heard anon I hope both sides of your pillow are cold.

Toxic!Rafe as a dad?

Surprisingly present. 

His kid adores him, and in their eyes, he’s just their cool, protective father. He spoils them, takes them out on the yacht all the time, and he makes sure they have everything they could ever want. He told himself he would never be like Ward if he ever became a father, and he- for a change- was living up to his word.

But when it comes to their mom? That’s where the real problem is.

Because Rafe does not change when it comes to Y/N.

Y/N falling pregnant, certainly wasn't planned. It wasn’t supposed to happen. She was young, she had a future and more than anything, she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to stay with Rafe, let alone have a baby with him. She didn't tell Rafe right away. Not because she was hiding it, but because she knew- deep in her gut- that he wouldn’t react like a normal person. She needed time to think, to weigh her options, to figure out what she wanted before he got involved.

But Rafe found out anyway.

Y/N had been so incredibly careful, she didn't leave any trace of the positive pregnancy test in Tannyhill; but he just knew her too well, sensed that something was off when she stopped drinking.

“What?”

His voice was quiet at first, his brows furrowed, like he didn’t quite believe what he was hearing. But then the realisation hit. His blue eyes darkened, his jaw tightened, and he stepped closer, the room suddenly feeling too small. His voice was calm, but there was something dangerous underneath it.

“You were gonna tell me, right?”

“Rafe, I—I don’t know what I’m going to do yet—”

Wrong answer. His hand shot out, gripping her jaw, forcing her to look at him.

“The fuck do you mean, you don’t know?” His breath was hot against her face, his fingers digging into her skin.

“That’s my kid, Y/N.”

Her stomach churned, her heart hammering against her ribs.

“I just- Rafe, I need time to think—”

“No, you don’t.”

He cut her off, shaking his head like the idea itself was ridiculous, angrily running a hand through his messed up hair.

“You don’t need to think. It’s already decided.”

She tried to take a step back, but his grip tightened, his other hand settling on her waist, firmly keeping her closer to him.

“We’re having this baby.”

Her breath caught in her throat as the words passed his lips, tears stinging her eyes before she could stop the feeling.

“I don’t- Rafe, this is my choice—”

His fingers pressed harder, his face inches from hers.

“No, it’s ours.”

Even now when they have a child together, he still watches her like a hawk. Still gets unreasonably possessive when she dresses a certain way, still makes a scene when he catches another man looking at her for a second too long. And she knows better than to fight him on it- most of the time.

It’s a summer afternoon, and she’s lounging by the pool, drink in hand, wearing a bikini that makes Rafe’s jaw clench. The sun was high, casting a golden glow over her as she adjusted the thin strap of her bikini top. It was tiny- too fucking tiny. The black fabric barely covered her tits, which, thanks to breastfeeding, were even fuller now, spilling slightly over the edges. His jaw clenched as his gaze dragged down, taking in the way the strings hugged her hips, digging into soft, newly gained curves that had him gripping the bottle in his hand just a little harder.

His friends are over, and while they’re talking, his eyes keep flicking toward her, watching the way the fabric clings to her curves. And then- Topper nudges him, nodding toward one of the new neighbours talking to her.

Rafe’s face goes dark.

She’s laughing at something the guy said, totally unaware of the way Rafe’s grip tightens around his beer bottle. He doesn’t make a scene- not yet- but when the guy finally walks away, Rafe strides over, towering over her as she peers up from her sun bed. His voice is deceptively smooth, but she knows that tone.

"Having fun, baby?"

"Yes."

His fingers skim her thigh, tracing the edge of her bikini bottoms.

"You looked like you were having a little too much fun."

She sighs, pushing her sunglasses up to rest on her head, she had a feeling she knew exactly where this was going.

"Seriously?"

"Dead serious." He leans down, voice dropping.

"Go inside and cover up."

She scoffs, shifting to sit up, the towel underneath her crumpling slightly as she moved,

"It’s our backyard and it's a pool party-."

"-I don’t give a fuck."

"Rafe, you’re being ridiculous."

"Yeah?" His grip tightens on her thigh.

"Then why’s he looking at you like he wants to fuck you?"

Her stomach flips.

"Stop," she hisses, even as heat creeps up her neck. But Rafe just smirks, leaning in so only she can hear.

"Maybe I should remind you who you belong to, huh?"

Her breath catches.

And the way he says it? The way his hand tightens on her thigh, just enough to send a warning? It sends a shiver down her spine, even as she glares at him. Because she knows- if she doesn’t listen now, he’ll make her.

Somehow, their kid never see this side of Rafe, he makes sure of it.

To them, their dad is just protective, he just 'cares about mommy so much!'. They never see the way their mother bites her lip in frustration when Rafe pulls her away from conversations. They never see the bruises he leaves- not always from violence, but from gripping her too tight, kissing her too hard. They don’t hear the way she argues in hushed tones behind closed doors, or the way she eventually gives in and melts into him anyway.

Because as much as she hates his jealousy and his control, she loves him too much to walk away.

He is the father of her child after all

[hail-dondus]

Pixar did not have to go as hard as they did with the Kronos Unveiled scene in The Incredibles (2004), yet they did anyway and gave us one of the best scenes in modern cinema. Literally cannot stop thinking about how good this scene is, from the animation to the build up to the soundtrack.

I don’t think I truly understood how dark this scene - and this film - was a child: Syndrome is systematically and strategically luring in superheroes and killing them off in order to test and improve his Omnidroid design… these people were not only supers but they also had family and loved ones too, just like Bob, and one day they would have just disappeared because chances are they weren’t telling people where they were going because it was "top secret" and against the law. They thought they were doing something good, like helping the people in the island, while also getting to relive their glory days, perhaps even paving the way for superheroes to make a proper comeback… only for Syndrome to kill them in cold blood.

Most of these people can actually be seen at Bob and Helen’s wedding in the beginning of the film - they weren’t just random supers, they were their friends, people they worked alongside and cared about. It’s even worse when you realise that Bob probably blames himself because, after all, Buddy/Syndrome was his biggest fan and he dismissed him by not letting him help.

The relief on Bob’s face when he realises Syndrome doesn’t know where Helen is - meaning he also doesn’t know where their children are because he didn’t realise they were married at this point - is so realistic and gut wrenching to see. The relief contrasting with the anguish of knowing how much danger they and their entire family could have been in the entire time without even knowing...it's so well-done, you can literally feel it.

It’s also worth noting that originally the next target wasn’t Mr Incredible but Frozone - that was who Mirage was trailing, hence why his location is “known”. Imagine if she/Syndrome hadn’t realised that Mr Incredible was with him and they’d lured Frozone in instead as planned; he would have gone to the island to fight the Omnidroid 8 in a volcano setting. We saw how being in the burning building dehydrated Frozone and made it impossible to use his ice powers - presumably it would have been the same in the middle of a lava filled volcano, and he’d have been slaughtered just like the other superheroes before him.

This scene shows an entire generation of superheroes - Bob, Helen and Lucius’ generation - wiped out all because Syndrome felt slighted by his hero as a child, because he internalised that slight and let it drive him to revenge. And, if we take into account the deleted alternate opening scene, it’s mentioned that superheroes "aren't supposed to breed” - meaning there’s a likelihood that Violet, Dash and Jack-Jack are among the very few supers of the next generation. I know that it's deleted and so not really canon, but it's definitely a concept to consider, I think.

Then there's the fact Syndrome named the project "Kronos" - Kronos was a God who overthrew his own father in order to take over his rule, and then he ate his own children to prevent them doing the same thing to him. It feels like it reflects Syndrome once looking up to Mr Incredible and even saying "I could be your ward!", meaning Mr Incredible adopting or fostering him - the project name is a metaphor for Syndrome destroying the Supers, especially Mr Incredible, who he viewed as a father figure. The Omnidroids he built killed two birds with one stone: not only was he able to acquire the data to upgrade the robot to its final design, but it also eliminated the real super heroes and so left him as the last remaining "superhero", even though his powers are man-made, not something he was born with.

Not only did he want to become the only remaining superhero by killing the real ones in revenge, he also planned to sell his inventions at some point so everyone can be super - because "when everyone is super, nobody is". It's like a final blow to the memory of the superheroes he had killed.

I've talked too much about this scene but God... I love it so much more as an adult because it's just so chilling to think about. I'm sure other people can put it much more articulately than I just tried to, but I just really wanted to appreciate this scene.

[marvelslut16]

Robby's Biological Clock

Pairing: Dr. Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x resident!reader

Synopsis: Robby opens up to the reader that he realizes that he wants a child after finding out that he almost had one.

Word count: 2k+

Warnings: Mentions of abortion. Standing a little to close to the edge of a roof. My poor writing, felt cute might delete later.

A/N: The writing bug has bitten me yet again. And I have another Langdon one half done already. Wrote this over the course of 2 days and I didn't proof read it, so I really hope it makes sense!

You keep your eyes trained on Robby after he passes his caseload off to Abbot, you’ve kept an eye on him for the last few hours really. Something shifted in him a few hours ago, and he went from his stern but friendly self to closed off and distant. With everybody. You’ve been watching, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for him to snap completely. Or have a breakdown.

You watch as Robby slips out a side door into the stairwell, and you know right away where he’s going. You’d never seen it with your own eyes, but it was a poorly kept secret in the ED that after a long grueling shift either Abbot or Robby would go up to the roof and the other would talk them down. Everyone who knew, knew they wouldn’t actually jump, it was just a release for them. 

This time you can’t ignore Robby’s obvious distress, watching Abbot get dragged into South eight by one of his residents for a consult, you make up your mind to follow Robby. Up and up and up the stairs you go, until the wind is rushing past your face. Taking a deep breath, you let the cooler air wash over you after a long shift, and a part of you understands why your two favorite attendings come up here. 

“I don’t want to talk tonight, Jack,” Robby’s voice floats to you with the wind at the sound of the door shutting, never bothering to turn around.

“It’s a good thing I’m not Jack then,” you walk over to the railing, looking at the sunset, not at your attending. 

“(Y/L/N), what are you doing up here?” Robby turns around at your voice, and you reach out your hand a little for him to grab if he needs to be steadied.

“Thought you could use someone to talk to, you’ve been off the past few hours,” he sighs at your words, and turns back to the sunset. “Can you at least come back on this side of the railing? Please?”

“I’m fine,” he ignores your plea, and your offer to listen to him, leaning back against the railing.You stand in silence with him for two minutes- you counted- before deciding to do something you have absolutely no interest in and, frankly, scares the shit out of you. Hiking one leg up, you swing it over the railing and slip to the other side beside Robby.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he whips his arm out in front of you to keep you from slipping or stepping too close to the edge. 

“The same thing you are,” you sass at him against your better judgement. 

“So if I jumped off a bridge you’d do it too?” he matches your sass, sounding just like your mom when she would talk about the dangers of peer pressure.  

“No, I’d be waiting at the bottom for your dumb ass so I could save you,” your voice is harsh, wanting to nip any conversation where he could possibly die in the bud. “So…”

“So?” he mimics your voice causing you to roll your eyes at him.

“Are you going to tell me what's wrong?” you shift slightly to face Robby, back to the pink hues of the sunset.

“I found something out today,” he pauses, sighs, and rubs his forehead. “My world got turned upside down.”

“You aren’t dying, are you?” you tried, and failed to keep your voice neutral, fear lacing every word.

No,” he leans forward, and you clutch onto his arm desperately to make sure he doesn’t go tumbling if there’s a strong gust of wind. “Nothing like that.”

“Do you have a secret kid, or something?” you tease, and by the way his lips pull down into a frown, you know you’ve struck a little too close to home. “I’m sorry, I was just joking.”

“It’s fine,” his voice is gruff, but his soulful brown eyes give away that he is in fact, not fine. “Today a woman I used to date admitted that while we were together she became pregnant, and made the decision to terminate the pregnancy.”

“Robby-” he stops you before you can start pitying him.

“It really is fine. I understand. It was her decision and I support that, I would have supported her decision in the moment, too. But now I can’t stop imagining what my life would be like if I had a child,” he glances at your face, before looking back over your shoulder at the descending sun. “I love Jake like he’s my own, but any day now he could decide he wants nothing to do with me, and never talk to me again. For years I put off the idea of having kids, I didn’t want the burden while I was still in medical school, then I was focused on advancing my career, then I met Janey and she had Jake, and with Jake I felt like I didn’t need my own children.”

“But now you feel like you do?” you ask cautiously, surprised that by talking he’ll remember you’re here and clam up.

“I have to have a child soon if I want to see them grow up and see them off to college, my biological clock is ticking,” he tries to ease the tension with a stupid joke. “Since I found out this afternoon, all I’ve been thinking about is how I’d have a toddler now, I’d be taking my child for their first day of kindergarten, I could be signing them up for dance class or little league. I would actually take days off to take them on vacations, and go to waterparks, and fairs.”

“Well when you’re ready and announce to the world that the great Michael Robinavitch is ready to have children, there will be a line of women at least two blocks long offering up their ovaries for you. I’ll have to fight them off and keep them out of the ED so we can still treat patients.”

“You’re more confident than I am,” he locks eyes with you, finally. 

“Oh please, you’re kind, caring, funny when you want to be, and you have fantastic genetics!” you don’t know what you’re thinking, you aren’t thinking really, and reach out to brush your fingers lightly through his salt and pepper hair. “You still have a good head of hair, and gorgeous brown eyes that would look so adorable passed down to a baby. You’re going to be a fantastic dad someday soon, Michael.”

The door to the stairwell creaks open, both you and Robby jolt out of the little moment you’re having. You wobble a little and Robby practically throws himself at you to catch you and keep you upright. 

“I’m okay,” you whisper, face closer to his than it’s ever been before. You could just lean in two more inches and your lips would be on his. But you can’t do that, you can’t take advantage of him and his vulnerability he’s shown you tonight on the roof, and especially not when someone else has joined you two. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Jack barks out a laugh from the doorway. 

“Nope,” your voice cracks, and you carefully step away from Robby this time.

“Just trying to keep (Y/L/N) from falling,” Michael answers at the same time.

You thought the stairwell door opening was jarring, but nothing matches the cold feeling of reality washing over you at the use of your last name. It’s not like you expected him to fall to his knees and beg you to give him a child, but you at least thought after bearing his soul to you Robby could call you by your first name in front of other people, especially his best friend.

“Well I won’t take up anymore of your boyfriend's time,” you try to cut the tension, but it’s so thick you can’t even hack away at it.

“Myrna calls us the same thing,” Dr. Abbot shakes his head and offers you his hand.

“Thank you,” you smile at your second favorite attending as he helps you climb back over the railing. 

~

Everyone you worked with in the Pitt knew that you were having a tough time deciding if you wanted to be an ED attending or go into pediatrics once you graduate. You’ve always had a soft spot for kids, and they seem to always be attached to you, no matter how shy they were when they walked or were rolled through the doors. And that’s why Dana always makes sure you take the cases involving children. Today for instance, there’s a two year old back in the ER for the third time in just as many months because her fevers keep spiking and causing her to have seizures. 

Robby watches you with the girl, Eliana, you recognized her right away from her last few visits. He watches the way you crouch down to her height when she wants to ask you a question, making sure that you’re eye level with her. Watches the way you pull a dumdum out of your scrub pocket, you always have some in there in case a little comes in. The way you effortlessly scoop her into your arms to get her to stay still long enough to check to see if she bit her tongue or cheek too hard. 

Today you’ve promised Eliana that you’ll stay after your shift and sit with her until her parents arrive, both were at work when Eliana had her seizure at daycare. When Robby looks back over at you, you're curled up on a chair that he brought into the bay just for you, and Eliana is sitting daintily on your lap, both of you engrossed in the picture book Cassie’s son left in the break room a few years ago. If he strains his ears just enough, he can hear the different voices you give each character.

“Dude, you’re obviously in love with her,” Jack appears out of nowhere, waiting for Robby to hand off his cases.  Michael scoffs in denial, but his words are cut off, “even Gloria is betting on you guys.”

“Probably so she can send me to HR and fire me for dating a subordinate,” Robby pushes his readers back up, going back to the chart he was pretending to update while he stared at you.

“She won’t be a student anymore in one month man, I hate to break it to you, no one cares that you're her attending. Just you,” Jack sighs at his friend's stupidity. “So stop trying to come up with excuses for why you can’t go for it. I saw you two on the roof, the tension was palpable.”

“What are you, some kind of walking romance novel?” Robby puts his tablet down, the guise of updating a patient's chart long forgotten. 

“I’m just saying, if I had a woman as caring and as gorgeous as her offering to carry my babies, I would jump at the opportunity,” Jack throws his hands up in surrender at the glare Michael is sending his way. 

“How long were you out there?” 

An hour later you can finally leave, Eliana’s parents arrive with apologies, their eternal gratitude, and promises of them stopping by with donuts in the morning for the whole crew. Slowly, you trudge to your locker, doing mental math to figure how much longer it’ll be until you can slip into bed after a nice, long, steaming, shower. 

“Do you want kids?” Dr. Robby corners you by your locker, you thought he had left over an hour ago when his shift ended. 

“I’d have one in nine months if I found the right guy,” you refrain from swearing at his sudden appearance. “Why? Do you know a guy?” 

“I do,” Robby nods, backing you up into said locker. “With your nose and his gorgeous brown eyes, you two would have the cutest baby around.”

“You think?” your body relaxes into his when he rests hand on your hip, thumb sliding under your scrub top. 

“Most definitely,” he whispers, breath skimming across lips.

“Well Dr. Robby, your biological clock is ticking, we should probably get started now,” you laugh as he fumbles to open your locker, having given him the code over a year ago so he could grab you your cardigan when he grabbed his sweatshirt. He rips your purse out of the locker, grabs your hand and drags you out of the hospital. 

[sevsgiirl]

— sevika being needy when you’re mad at her

synopsis: sevika has very good self control, and she doesn’t usually cave in to most situations that bother her, but you giving her the silent treatment? well, that’s a whole different story.

note: this is just another sevika drabble because I can’t get the thought of her being needy out of my head.

sevika is straightforward. she doesn’t have the time nor patience when it comes to silent treatment, if she has a problem with someone she goes out of her way to tell them without sugarcoating it. romantic partners included.

there are perks to it but there is definitely a downside as well because oftentimes she can be too blunt for her own good.

you know she doesn’t mean it when she accidentally hurts your feelings or says something that catches you off guard, but then again you’re still human. so whenever you two end up disagreeing with each other, you try to be as understanding of her perspective as much as possible. but sometimes it doesn’t always work.

“where are you going?” she asked you late one night when she catches you dolling yourself up in your bedroom.

you spared her a glance from your cracked vanity mirror before rummaging through your makeup bag “I’m gonna go to the bar just to meet up with some friends. I’ll probably be back in two hours.”

you were expecting her to agree because you barely go out anyways. sevika could be a bit jealous and possessive but if there is one thing she isn’t, it’s controlling.

that’s why you were taken aback when you catch sight of her shaking her head on the mirror, a scowl on her face “no.”

you were quiet for a moment before you swiveled around to face her.

“excuse me?”

“I said no. it’s late. had you gone out earlier today I wouldn’t have minded but it’s dangerous to go out this time of night and I’m not gonna let you especially when you’re all dressed up like that.” she said.

you honestly couldn’t believe it as you stood up “well, if you’re so worried then you can just come with-“

“it’s a saturday and silco’s been on my ass the entire week. I was hoping we’d use this night to just unwind and stay in.”

you chuckled, a bitter sound “so wait, I can’t go to the last drop because it’s late but you can especially if it’s about work?”

“it’s not about where you’re going, it’s about the time. you can go out tomorrow morning or the afternoon but it’s 9:30 for crying out loud.”

“you’ve got to be kidding me. sev-“

“I’m not arguing with you.” she reprimanded “I mean it. you’re a grown adult and I got into a relationship with a grown adult. so I don’t get why you’re acting like a fucking child.”

perhaps it was the stress of her job getting to her that made her speak that way towards you, but you’d be lying if you said her harsh words didn’t get to you because they did. making your eyes well up but you refused to let her see you cry, instead you just shoved past her and into the bathroom where you took your makeup off and got undressed.

and she was glad you gave into what she wanted… or so she thought.

truth be told, she didn’t think much of what she said because in her mind she was just looking out for you. sure, if she thought about it she might’ve sounded a little harsh but it wasn’t personal. she just tends to be strict especially to those she cares about.

however, she didn’t think you’d take it to heart. that’s why in the following morning when she was cooking breakfast and heard the bedroom door open, she was surprised that instead of walking up to her and giving her a morning kiss like you always do, you aimed directly for the bathroom and slammed the door shut on your way in.

she couldn’t mask her surprise because not only did you ignore her, you didn’t sit down and have breakfast with her first. which is something you always do before showering and heading off to work.

“aren’t you going to eat?” she asked with a frown when she saw that you were already dressed and were about to head out.

without missing a beat, you replied in a dry tone “I’m not hungry,” before walking out of your apartment, again no kiss on her cheek or a goodbye. leaving her standing in the dining room alone, dumbstruck.

she thought you’d snap out of it soon but it only got worse when two days had passed and you still haven’t exchanged at least three sentences with her.

it was just the occasional ‘no’ ‘I’m fine’ and ‘nothing’s wrong’ even though you hadn’t been talking to her through dinners and had your back turned to her when you slept. no cuddling, no kissing, just pure silence.

sevika thought she was about to go crazy.

usually, she wouldn’t give in to this kind of pettiness but there’s only so much of you withholding affection from her that she could take before it started affecting her.

she didn’t even know what she did wrong but if she had to take a guess it was probably when she didn’t let you go out to meet your friends. but come on, really? she was just looking out for you.

but of course, she had to set her pride aside, and so without you expecting it, she cornered you while you were rummaging the fridge trying to find something to eat - not noticing her broad figure looming close behind.

you jumped when a pair of strong arms suddenly wrapped themselves around you “what the-“ you begun wiggling out of her hold “sevika, what are you-“

you were silenced when sevika nuzzled her face in the crook of your neck and only tightened her hold on your waist.

“can you please stop ignoring me? I’m sorry, okay? whatever it is I did, I’m sorry.”

it took you a second to process her words but when you did, you just rolled your eyes “you don’t even know what it is that you’re apologizing for.”

“is it because I didn’t let you go out to meet your friends the other night? I’m sorry but I just didn’t want you to go out while it was late. you know I’d never boss you around-“

“sev, it’s not that.” you sighed “it’s about the comment you said afterwards. about me acting like a child?”

she was quiet and you shook your head “it was such a shitty thing to say. I could’ve understood where you were coming from but you know how I hate it when people talk down on me and you’re the last person I expected that from.”

a pang of of guilt shot right through her chest when she realized her mistake, because you were right. perhaps she should’ve been more careful with how she phrased her words because no matter how much you two disagree on certain things, her intention is never to hurt you.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” she placed a soft kiss on your shoulder “you’re right. it’s my fault. I was a dick. maybe it’s because I was stressed but that still isn’t a good reason to have talked to you like that.”

you were about to make a snarky remark when out of nowhere, sevika dropped to her knees in front of you and pulled you forward by your hips. looking up at you with big puppy dog eyes and it was like all your self restraint flew right out the window because here she was, your big strong intimidating girlfriend who’s feared by many, acting needy and desperate for your forgiveness.

“I’ll do whatever it takes, just please stop with the silent treatment.” she said, lifting your shirt up to kiss your tummy and you let out a shuddering breath “please baby, I’m sorry. really I am.”

you bit your lip, taking her jaw in your hand as you examined her face “who would’ve thought you’d be the type to beg?”

she looked down sheepishly and you couldn’t help but laugh, amused.

“but fine,” you said, leaning down to kiss her and you made sure to slip your tongue in, making her groan because this was the first time in three days that you gave her any sort of physical affection.

so she didn’t stop not until you two found it hard to breathe.

you smirked “since you asked so nicely after all.”

[freyadragonlord]

Recently I’ve been thinking about the different types of love languages in Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, The S-Classes That I Raised, and Lout of the Count’s Family…

Not to say that each of the stories describes only one single kind of love language; they are, after all, all novels that focus on Found Family, with many different types of relationships between characters that express their love for each other in as many different ways.

Yet, I’ve noticed how at the core of each of these three stories there is one specific act of love that recurs more than others, and that becomes the true Theme each novel revolves around.

In Lout of the Count’s Family, the main love language is providing food and a home.

“Home” is such an important concept in LCF that Cale collects houses like they were pokemon cards. The source of his trauma when he was a child as Kim Roksu was that he was not given sufficient food, and that where he lived was not truly a shelter where he could feel safe, just a place he was trapped in.

And I don’t think there are ever more than 2 chapters in a row without a character offering food to others, or asking if they’re hungry, if they’ve eaten, why haven’t you eaten, here have some apple pie!!

Cale uses his newfound money and power to make sure his loved ones are provided for. That’s how he adopts bonds with most of his new family.

The first thing Raon does after he’s freed from the prison he’s been trapped in all his life, is to leave food for this hopelessly weak human.

Choi Han, who has lived alone in a dangerous forest for decades, would do anything to protect his home.

The Crown Prince, who has been isolated and untrusting of everyone ever since his mother died, makes sure to always have cookies in his bedroom in case guests “break in” for a visit at any time of the day or the night.

I love you, you’ll never be hungry again. I love you, my home is your home.

In The S-Classes That I Raised, the main love language is words.

Yoojin’s powers are literally activated by telling people “I love you”. Because all he ever wanted was to say “I love you” to his brother one last time.

Because the tragedy that starts the story happens because Yoohyun loved and protected his hyung in secret for years. Silence creates misunderstandings, it creates distance, it leads to loss.

Loving someone isn’t enough, tell them! Reassure them. Remember what they say, because their words are important!!

Ever since the regression, Yoojin always let people know when he loves them and appreciates them. “You’re perfect, you’re cute, you’re so talented, you’re so handsome, you are loved.”

And as the novel progresses, whenever Yoojin is in pain, or doesn’t know what to do, he turns to Sung Hyunje because he needs to be reassured, he needs to know he did well, he needs to hear he is still important to the people he loves.

I love you, please know that I love you! I love you, please tell me you love me back.

And finally, in Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, the main love language is time.

Time is one of the greatest sources of horrors in ORV. Eternities upon eternities of suffering, being trapped for ages in the same, hopeless loop, wishing for everything to just stop.

And yet, time is also the greatest gift characters give to each other.

Because the wounds Dokja suffered as a child, and then again and again through his whole life…. They need time to heal. They need so much time. They will probably take forever.

So let them take forever.

Despite how much pain and worry he causes his companions by giving up on himself over and over again, his companions never give up on him. And he doesn’t understand why!! He doesn’t think he’s worth it. But it’s not his choice, it’s theirs. And they will go through as many tries, as much pain, as much time as it takes, before they can finally save him.

I love you, so I will wait fifty years for you. I love you, so I will live through thousands of lifetimes to find you. I love you, so I will read and reread your story for the rest of time, just to keep you alive.

[raven-dor]

me and my husband

In which gwayne hightower is overprotective of his pregnant wife, and she begins to worry about the outcome of the birth

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x reader

WARNINGS: angst, anxiety, rough pregnancy, mentions of blood, arguing, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

🎶 : me and my husband - mitski

AN: ♥️💗 - I read "chose me" by @entitled-fangirl and had to write something similar for gwayne!! this could also be read as part of the come back to me universe, but you do not have to read any other fic to understand the context!!

She watched from the dark hall, her heart fluttering as he leaned back in his chair, exposing his neck and upper chest. Pregnancy awoke a dangerous animal inside her, one that needed her husband near her at all times. 

Instead, he sat in his office. 

She could not blame him; it was hard work, taking care of Old Town in place of his uncle’s absence. Seeing as his cousin had died recently, Gwayne would stand to inherit the Hightower title, and he all but jumped at the chance to begin his training.

But as of late, it seemed as if she needed him more than he needed her. Mere thoughts seemed to drown out her happiness, every attempt to block them futile. The larger she grew, the closer she got to the inevitable. She cleared her throat, making herself known to her husband. 

“Gwayne?” He looked up, smiling brightly. 

“My love! You should be in bed.” He stood up, ushering her over to a cushion. She glared, letting him coddle her for now.

“I am not inept.” 

“I know, darling.” He knelt in front of her, kissing the back of her hand gently. “But you also know that I cannot help but worry for you.” He caressed her stomach, whispering. “And how is our little one?” 

“You have no need to worry, I assure you. The Maesters say the babe is perfectly healthy; there is no cause for concern.”

“And you?” He kissed her hand once more, his tone softer than before. “How do you fare?”

She was taken aback by that question, avoiding a direct answer entirely. “Do not worry about me.” 

“That is my job as your husband.” He walked back to his desk, putting out the flickering candle. “And Maesters are not always correct.” 

“That is a rather skeptical view.” She grabbed the chair's armrests and pushed herself up. Gwayne glared. 

“Please ask for my aid next time you plan on standing.” 

“Shall I ask you to help me relieve myself as well?” She glared back. “I love you; you know that I do. But I am not a frail piece of straw. I will not break from a gust of wind.”

“You are carrying the future heir to the Hightower name, my dear.” 

Terms like that make her uneasy. That is all she heard all day. ‘Future heir,’ ‘Hightower name,’ ‘a boy.’ All phrases she had heard over a hundred times. She just wanted a moment of peace where she was not reminded how little she mattered in this situation. A tight smile graced her lips, and all humor once held in her tone vanished. “As I am ceaselessly reminded.” 

He grabbed her hand, walking slowly out of the office. “All I ask is that you take care. If not for me, then for the sake of our child.” 

“I am careful.” She glared. “You know this. It’s not as if I go looking for things to hurt the babe. Do not treat me like a child to be watched over.” 

He rubbed a thumb over the back of her hand. “I do not mean to upset you-” 

“Well, you have.” She scoffed. “You have somehow managed to insult my care for your future line and my child in one blow. It is astonishing, truly. I applaud you.” 

“You know that was not my intention.” He shut their bedroom door, removing his shirt. Y/N tried to keep herself from blushing at the sight, but when he looked like that, it was hard to do. He knelt in front of her, holding both of her hands in his. “I am sorry.” 

She hummed, walking away and sitting in front of her vanity. “Yes, well, I suppose I forgive you.” 

He grinned. “I am glad of it.” 

The woods were peaceful, a nice retreat from the bustling of Old Town. Her velvet green dress dragged behind her as she strolled along the frequently traveled path. She hummed, closing her eyes and listening to the sound of the trees swaying.

There was a lake nearby that she desperately wanted to swim in and stare up into the sky of blue. Pushing the tall grass out of her way, the clearing stretched out before her, the lake at the center. She grinned, running down the hill with a newfound joy.

“Y/N? Where are you?” 

Her smile fell, remembering the whole reason she had even been ‘allowed’ to go on this excursion. He’d only let her go if he came along. She sighed, turning around and walking back up the hill. “Coming, my love.” 

The auburn-haired man smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Where did you run off to?” 

“The clearing.” She traced shapes on his chest. “I was thinking, perhaps you could join me for a swim. It is the perfect day for it.” 

“I woul-” 

“My lord.” Their guard’s voice echoed through the forest. Y/N groaned, falling against her husband’s chest. Gwayne kissed the top of her head, smiling sympathetically. “Another time, I swear to you.” She sighed, nodding. A finger hooked under her chin, his eyes serious. “You look far too melancholy, my love.” 

“Well, perhaps if-” 

“My lord, I’m sorry, but it is most urgent.” 

Gwayne sighed, intertwining his hand with hers. “What is it?”

The Maester’s Wing was dim, with just a few candles keeping light. Gwayne had been summoned to settle a squabble between the townfolk, leaving Y/N to visit the old man herself. She tapped her foot against the stone floor, waiting for the Maester to ask her the questions she dreaded.

But those questions never came. 

“My lady.” 

Y/N smiled, nodding. “Maester Jon, it is wonderful to see you.” She held her stomach. “Tell me, any developments my husband or I should be aware of?” 

“Unfortunately, yes, my lady.” He sat down. “It seems, from what we can tell so far, that the birth may result in a breach pregnancy.” Y/N’s blood ran cold, and she felt her breath catch. “A breach pregnancy may result in a choice needing to be made.” He leaned forward, a sympathetic look on his face. “Do you understand what this means, my lady?” 

She nodded, standing up quickly. “I do. Thank you, Maester Jon. I shall relay the news to my lord husband.”

She gave one last glance at the dark corner before practically running out of the wing. She burst through the hall doors, dinner in full swing. There sat Gwayne, eyes drooping, visibly exhausted from his duties. 

Who was she to worry him anymore?

Y/N sat beside her husband, kissing his cheek. “How was your day, my love?” 

“Infinitely better, now that you are here.” He smiled. “How was the visit?” 

She took a large sip of her wine. “Well. All is well.” She grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. “I love you.” 

He grinned, squeezing back. “I love you much more, my dear.” 

If he chose the babe, she knew she would surely die from heartbreak before she bled out. She laughed, her eyes watering ever so slightly. “I do not think that is possible.” 

Since learning of the news, she’d been restless, barely sleeping and often waking before the sun. Its bright rays peeked through the curtains, hitting her skin. The warmth soothed her for a moment, but it was just that, a moment. 

The babe kicked harshly, a quiet groan leaving her lips. She stared at the ceiling, thinking that in just a few short weeks, she’d be giving birth in this very bed, staring at the very same ceiling. 

It had always been described to her as horrible and painful beyond recognition. And now that she was carrying an heir, which could possibly be breach, she almost wished she could go back to when they first met and stop herself. When she didn’t have to worry about what she did or where she went, she could just be free. 

He would be pressured into choosing the child over her; she knew this. Sometimes, when the need for an heir was strong, women had been carelessly cut open, being left for dead. It had been done many times, most notably in her lifetime, by King Viserys. Rhaenyra had told her of his actions: how he’d carelessly cut Aemma open, and her mother bled out on the bed without ever getting to hold her babe. 

She looked over at her husband, fast asleep and dead to the world. His hair covered his eyes; his face was shoved into the pillow haphazardly. She giggled; he’d always slept like there was no tomorrow; it was heartwarming, to say the least. She leaned over, pushing the hair out of his face, kissing his forehead gently. 

 Rolling to her side, she quietly stood, careful not to wake him. Pulling on her deep green robe, she made her way to the dining hall, eager to eat something of actual sustenance. 

After learning of the news, she'd picked at her dinner, telling Gwayne it was because the babe made her nauseous. 

In a way, it had. 

The smell of bacon and eggs flooded her senses, and she rounded the corner, the doors of the hall wide open. Greeting the occasional servant that passed by, she sat down, piling food onto her plate. 

“My lord.”

Her attention was drawn to the threshold of the hall, smiling for a moment at the sight of her husband.

He looked angry, stalking toward her, not even acknowledging the man who had greeted him. Odd, he normally slept as long as he could before starting his day. She smiled brightly. “Good morning, my love.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Is it a good morning?” 

“Quite.” She tilted her head. “Why? Is something amiss?” 

He nodded, crossing his arms. “I awoke, and my wife was gone. Imagine my surprise.” 

She felt horrible leaving him, she could admit. And fighting would only give him more cause to choose the babe over her. “I am sorry if I scared you.” 

“You should be. And another-” He stopped, shock adorning his features. “You are sorry?” 

“I should have woken you. It was my mistake.” She pat the chair next to her. “Please, join me.” 

“I’m afraid I cannot. I have to meet with the steward this morning.” 

Her heart clenched. “I can join you if you’d like-” 

“It is not necessary. I will only bore you.” 

She murmured, reaching out to grab his hand. “You have never bored me.” 

“You are kind, but I’m sorry, I cannot be distracted.” He grabbed a plate, placing a biscuit and two pieces of bacon haphazardly.

She scoffed, glaring at her lord husband. “I did not realize I was such a distraction."

"Y/N...."

"Perhaps I should stay in my chambers for the remainder of my pregnancy. To keep you from further distraction.”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it.” 

She stood, her eyes cold. “I know nothing of the sort.” She looked over his shoulder, beckoning over a servant. “Please move my things into the adjoining room. I will be sleeping there-” 

Gwayne sat his plate down, looking at the servant. “Do not move her things.”  

“My lady?” The young girl looked frightened, scared of the argument she was caught in the middle of. 

Y/N sighed, dismissing the girl. “It is alright.” She walked away, yelling back at her husband. “I shall do it myself.” 

“Y/N!” Gwayne yelled, dropping his plate and running after her. “Come back here at once.” 

She ignored him, walking faster. The stairs proved to be a challenge, holding the railing tight. Gwayne placed a hand on her back. “Let me-” 

She flinched, pushing him back. “Don’t.” 

He mumbled. “You may hate me all you want after this.” 

“After what-” He hooked his arm under her legs, carrying her up the stairs. “Gwayne Hightower! You let me down right now!” 

The top of the stairs was a relief; she practically leaped out of his arms. She walked into their joint chambers, filling her trunk with things she would need. Gwayne sighed, watching from the doorway. “Will you please just-” 

“I will leave you to your devices, my lord. I hope your meetings prove well spent.” Dragging the trunk through the door, she slammed it in his face. 

That had been three days ago. Other than the meals they shared or meetings both were forced to attend, she had steered clear of her husband. For the better part of the day, he would be in a meeting with the patrons of Old Town, or so she’d heard. Y/N took that as an opportunity, rushing out of the castle’s gates. Squealing, she cut through the tall grass once more, racing down the hill towards the lake. She threw her dress off, her petticoat barely revealing her modesty. Not that anyone would see, this part of the wood was only known by the family. 

The water did wonders for her nerves, cooling her skin. Her hair stretched out past her waist, flowing like the tall grass that surrounded this oasis. She floated for what seemed like hours; the babe had not stirred once. She hummed, caressing her bump gently. “It is quite peaceful here, is it not?” 

A kick. 

Y/N grinned, her eyes tearing up. “Please, try your best to make this an easy birth. It would break my heart not to meet you. If that is the case, don’t worry. Your father’s a good man; he’ll raise you well.” 

No kick. 

She laughed. “Do not ignore your mother. It’s quite disrespectful.” 

A kick. 

“I miss him too, my love.” 

A voice broke through the silence. “Miss who exactly?” 

Y/N jumped, standing in the water. “My lord, I did not expect you-” 

“I was in a meeting when a guard informed me you were running out of the castle gates.” His face looked conflicted, but she didn’t want to address the fact that he most likely heard that whole ‘conversation,’ so she remained silent. “Is there something you wish to tell me?” 

So he had heard.

She smiled, trying to act as if nothing was wrong. “I do not know what you are referring to, my lord.” 

“Stop.” Gwayne sighed. “You haven’t called me that since before we were engaged, and I do not wish for you to start again.” He stepped forward, extending his hand. “Please come out of the lake.” 

She walked past his hand to her dress, every attempt to retrieve it proving futile. “Here.” Gwayne knelt down, picking it up off the stump. “What would you have done if I hadn’t been here?” 

“I would have figured it out, thank you very much.” She glared, pulling the frock over her head. “Do you not have another meeting to attend, my lord?” 

“I canceled them.” He laughed, stepping forward. “After I heard my wife was running away from our home, I thought it best to tend to the matter myself.” 

“How wise of you.” Y/N crossed her arms. 

“Shall we go to bed?” 

“I am not tired.” She walked up the hill, leaving him behind. “Have a restful night, my lord.” 

She slammed her bedroom door shut, leaning against it. She was tired; she hated to admit it. But she wouldn’t have told him that. She walked over to the window, placing the bouquet she picked on the mantle. A reminder of the freedom she once had. A reminder of life before she faced death itself. 

A knock rang out. “May I come in?” 

She tensed. “If you must.” She faced the window, too scared to face him. If she looked at him, truly looked at him, his eyes bearing into hers, she knew she would begin crying. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” 

“I have to ask you something, and I want you to answer me honestly.”

She nodded, walking away from the window and placing her robe in her wardrobe. “Ask it then.” 

“Do you still love me?”

Her heart stopped. “I-” 

Gwayne stepped forward, wrapping a singular arm around her waist. He drew her in, his scent engulfing her senses. She fought herself not to fall for his spell, but as he leaned his head down, and his breath hitting her neck, she knew she would not last. “If you do not, speak it plainly because I- I cannot go on like this any longer.” 

She turned around in his arms, placing her hands on his chest. “I do not believe I could ever stop loving you. Trust me when I say this.” She smiled. “I’m afraid it’s terminal.” 

“Ah.” He let out a sigh of relief. “Then what is it that troubles you so?” 

“I do not know what you-” 

“I beg you, do not finish that sentence.” He tilted her chin up, worry in his eyes. “What ales you, my love?” 

“I am simply nervous.” She could not be in his arms any longer. The more she lingered in his embrace, the more compelled she would feel to tell him. “It is nothing, I swear to you.”

He raised his eyebrows, pulling her hands from his chest and kissing them gently. “Please do not lie to me.”

“That night I visited the Maester, he told me something.” He nodded. “He said with the way the pregnancy is progressing, it is possible that the babe will be born breach.” Her voice grew quieter the longer she spoke. 

“That’s not all, is it?” 

She pushed out of his hold, walking to the other side of the room. “I’m so sorry, Gwayne. Truly, I am. Please forgive me-” a sob wrecked her body. “But I want to live. Please.” 

Gwayne shook his head. Where was this coming from? “Whatever are you talking about?” 

“I know I have been acting radical as of late, and I apologize, I just thought-” She hiccuped. “I thought it would make your choice easier.” 

“What choice, darling?” 

She whispered. “Between me and the babe.” 

“Why would I-” It dawned on him. Had she really been dealing with this all by herself? “Oh, my sweet girl. Why did you not tell me?” 

“I didn’t want to stress you any further.” She hugged herself. “Please, Gwayne. I swear I will give you another heir if this pregnancy-” She shivered. “Just don’t cut me. I beg you.” 

He dropped down in front of her, grabbing her hands in his. “Listen to me well. I could sire a hundred children, but you. You are one of a kind, and I will always choose you.” He kissed the back of her hands once more. “Irreplaceable. You must know this.” 

“No one is truly irreplaceable, Gwayne.” 

He stood, his eyes dark. “Do not say such things again. Swear it to me.” 

“I-” 

“Swear it, Y/N.” 

“I swear.” She whispered, cheeks red. “I swear to you.” 

He nodded, smiling lightly. “I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” 

“For coddling you.” He stepped closer, caressing her bump. “I am scared as well. My own mother had many a difficult pregnancy, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.” 

“I am sorry as well.” She placed a hand on his cheek. “I should have come to you with my worries. I did not want to burden you. And I will make sure you have your heir. I promise you that.” 

“I do not care if the Hightower name crumbles away into nothingness. As long as you are content, I will be as well.” He leaned down, their foreheads touching. “There would be no point to this without you. I fear I could not do this if you were not by my side.” 

“You have been doing perfectly fine as of late.” She frowned. "I truly am sorry.” 

“No more of that.” He whispered, staring at her lips. “May we please go to bed?” 

She nodded, knowing if she tried to speak, that words would fail her. She lay on the bed beside him, tracing his freckles. “Sleep, my love.” He wrapped an arm around her waist. “I will be here when you wake, I promise.” 

taglist: @beebeechaos @i-padfootblack-things @milesdrift @maryjaneeeee

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO JOIN!

[itsnesss]

Is it possible for you to do max verstappen x pregnant reader, where she goes to one of his races even though max told her not to and he finds hers there and rushes over to her, maybe you coukd pick the rest? Tyy

𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭 | max verstappen × fem!reader

summary | you attend max's race despite his wishes. afterward, he finds you and is worried but also angry

warnings | fluff, pregnancy-related stress, emotional conflict, mild anxiety, protective behavior

word count | 1.5 k

🖇 more mv1 🖇 f1 masterlist

The crowd cheered wildly as the cars zoomed by, but your mind was elsewhere. You had been standing in the pit area for a while now, your fingers nervously clutching the edge of the railing as you scanned the area for him. Max had told you, repeatedly, that he didn't want you here.

He was already under enough pressure as it was, and he didn’t want to risk you being in danger with everything going on around him. But despite his warnings, you couldn’t stay away. You had promised him you’d be there for every race, and you had every intention of keeping that promise—no matter how much he protested.

As the race continued, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach twist in knots. Your pregnancy had been a constant reminder of how fragile things could be, and Max’s concern for your safety weighed heavily on you. But you had always been his biggest supporter, and today was no different.

You just needed to see him, to feel connected to him in a way you couldn’t from the comfort of your couch or the distant view of the TV. You wanted to be there when he raced, when he lived his dream. You wanted to share that moment with him.

But, no matter how much you tried to reassure yourself, the anxiety gnawed at your stomach. He had warned you. You were here, and you didn’t know what to expect when he saw you.

It wasn’t until the race had ended, and the crowd began to clear out, that you finally spotted him. He was making his way toward the paddock, his eyes scanning the area. You felt your heart skip a beat, and a mix of excitement and fear flooded your chest.

You saw him spot you across the crowd.

When Max finally reached you, the air between the two of you seemed to thicken. He hadn’t seen you until after the race ended, and you could see the mix of shock, concern, and a touch of anger written all over his face. Despite the adrenaline from the race still coursing through him, there was no hiding how upset he was to see you here.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, but there was no mistaking the intensity behind it.

You felt small, like a child caught in a lie. The moment he spoke, the guilt hit you full force. You knew you had disobeyed him, and the disappointment in his eyes stung. But how could you have stayed away? How could you have not been here to support him, to watch him do what he loved?

“Max, I… I wanted to be here with you,” you said, your voice shaky. “I swear, I didn’t mean to make you angry… I just wanted to see you.”

His gaze never left you, his face unreadable for a moment, and you could feel the tension building between you. He was upset, and you could see the conflict in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you listen to me?” His voice grew more serious now, though he still kept his voice low. “Do you know what I told you? Why didn’t you listen?”

You watched him, your heart in your throat. You knew he was right. You had let your own need to be close to him overshadow his concerns for your safety. He always worried about you, about your well-being, and you had ignored that. How could you have been so reckless?

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I really am. I shouldn’t have done it. I promise I won’t do it again.”

Max closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, there was a softness in his gaze, though the frustration was still there. He looked you up and down, checking to make sure you were okay, his mind clearly torn between anger and relief.

“Are you alright?” His tone was softer now, and for the first time since the race ended, he allowed himself a moment to make sure you weren’t hurt.

You nodded quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to support you… like always.” You stepped closer, fully aware that the world was still buzzing around you, but in this moment, nothing seemed to matter more than being close to him. “You know I never want to put you in danger, but I just couldn’t stay back. I wanted to see you win.

A small, genuine smile appeared on Max’s lips. He seemed to calm down just a little, but the emotions were still fresh.

“You can’t do that again,” he said, though his tone was gentler now. “Next time, listen to me. Don’t make me worry like that.”

“I won’t,” you promised, feeling the tension slowly lift as his anger faded away.

Max took a step closer and, with a deep sigh, placed his hands gently on your shoulders, looking directly into your eyes. “I love you, you know that, right?”

The simple words hit you like a wave, and you couldn’t help but smile. His hands felt warm, his presence comforting as he stood there, reminding you that despite everything, his love for you never wavered.

“I know,” you said, softly. “And I love you too.”

The noise of the event continued around you, but to you, the world had shrunk to this small space where only Max and you existed. The pit crews and cameras went on with their business, but in this moment, it was just him and you. Max’s face, now much softer, remained close to yours, his gaze fixed on you as he searched for any sign that everything was alright. Though the anger had ebbed away, there was still something unspoken between the two of you, something that needed to be addressed.

Max seemed to be processing everything, his hands still resting on your shoulders as though he needed that connection to keep himself grounded. He took a deep breath before speaking, his voice softer, almost as though he had decided to open a door he had kept closed for a long time.

“You care too much about me,” he said, his words heavy, yet sincere. “I… I always want you to be safe. And I don’t want you to put yourself in danger over something like this.”

You knew what he was trying to say. He was talking about the love he felt for you, the need to protect the woman carrying his future, his life, his family. And even though he hadn’t mentioned the baby directly, you could feel the weight of his words. He wasn’t just worried about you; he was worried about the life you were building together.

“Max,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I just want you to be happy. I know you’re doing all of this for us, for me, for the baby… but I can’t stay behind. I want to be there with you, to share those moments with you. I want to be part of it all.”

Max stayed silent for a moment, as if weighing every word you said. Then, slowly, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your face, and he kissed your forehead tenderly. The touch was brief, but it held a depth of feeling that made your heart race.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, looking you in the eyes with a soft, yet firm intensity. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. I just… want you to be safe. Always.”

You felt a rush of emotion wash over you, and instinctively, you closed the distance between you two, craving the closeness. The noise around you no longer mattered; all that mattered was being with him in this moment.

“I know,” you said, your voice steady now. “And I promise I won’t do something like that again. But you need to know… I’ll always be here, supporting you.”

Max looked at you with a mix of gratitude and love, and something in his eyes shifted. He wasn’t just the competitive driver now, he wasn’t just the man under pressure. In that moment, he was simply Max: your partner, the man you would share everything with, even the hard moments.

Still, there was something more in the air, a tension that hadn’t quite been resolved. Maybe there was more to say between the two of you. There were emotions that needed to be shared, feelings that had yet to be fully addressed. But for now, just being here, together, in this small corner of his victory, was enough.

Max hugged you gently, his strong, protective frame enveloping you as the sounds of victory echoed from afar. The pit crew was still working, but now, for you, nothing mattered more than this moment, this unspoken promise between the two of you.

Max sighed, and with his face close to yours, he spoke softly, “I love you, you know that, right?”

Hearing those words from his lips made your heart beat faster, and without thinking, you nodded, giving him a small kiss on the lips, one full of calm and sincerity.

“I know,” you answered softly. “And I love you too.”

[ynbabe]

Be Untrainable ୨୧ Rookies+grid x Male! Driver! Reader

The one where the rookies are menaces and somehow the worst culprit? Y/n L/n, i.e. the 4 times Y/n caused his Pr manager to cry and the 0 times he got into trouble for it.

It was gonna be 5 but I decided that part could be a standalone with reader x franco so lemme know if yall wanna read that.

F1 was sacred, it was also a battle ground and what would a war be without its soldiers. Unfortunately the youngest, the futures of the prestigious sport, were absolute menaces that couldn’t be media trained by even the best.

The rookies were all walking around, excited for the race, the Australian gp. Interrupting their gossip, an interviewer stopped them, flashing a mic and camera in their faces before they were prepared.

“Hello rookies!” The man started, and the rookies smirked at eachother, interrupting their sacred gossip time could only mean one thing- chaos.

“Uh, hi!” Y/n answered for the group, jumping from behind hanging his arms around Ollie and Jack.

“Oh, hello! Y/n L/n, the boy of the hour!” The mic was shoved to him. “So there’s rumours around that you’ll be sitting out the practice sessions?” He asked vying for scandal and if it was scandal he wanted scandal he was going to get.

Y/n pulled down his shades just a bit, signature smirk on his lips, “oh yes, I’m out for paternity leave!” He laughed, startling everyone around him. The interviewer was awkward not knowing if he hit a gold mine or if he had to shut the camera.

“Paternity?” He asked for clarification.

“Oh yea- Ollie’s the mum,” he nudged Ollie’s hips with his making the rookies cackle and the interviewer peeved.

“OI!” Ollie yelled, “what gender roles are we pushing here?!” He looked from the group to the camera, a fake pout on his face.

The group was uncontrollable at this point, only boldened further by Y/n.

“Who else, sweetheart, you know you’re the only one for me!” He fake kissed, Ollie moving last minute to not let it land on his lips, “what!? Oh come on-”

Gabriel pushed y/n calling him out, Isack yelled over all the voices, “Y/n you’d be a dad many times over if it was possible, yea- Salope!”

Your eyes widened pushing him back, and looked to the camera like it was your own show rather than an interview, “he called me a slut! Did you get that! That was slut in French, right?” You looked around for confirmation.

The interview looked done by this point, scoffing and rolling his eyes, when Kimi waved his hands as if to clear the air, “he has-eh- what do you call in English? Wisdom removal?” More laughter, “Yea! Wisdom teeth removal!” He answered looking proud of himself.

The group had moved on and the interviewer asked to cut the camera.

The next day the clip had gone viral, and Y/n only added to the fire.

ynlnunofficial

ynlnunofficial THEY TOOK MY FUCKIN TEETH- also thanks @/olliebearmen for driving me and giving me a beautiful daughter 🥹😂

userone omg whose child is that 😭

usertwo these rookies don’t play man tfym they actually got a child for the bit-

userthree HELLO? are we sure they aren’t actually dating? Cause wdym he drove him after his wisdom tooth removal

jackdohaan DID YOU STEAL A CHILD

olliebearman NO-

ynlnunofficial YES (it’s his niece) unfortunately I can’t get him pregnant

userfour BRO WHAT 💀

charlesleclerc I am too young to be a grandfather- Oliver explain yourself!

olliebearman uh- I- @/ynlnunofficial!

ynlnunofficial I was joking I swear! Pls don’t tell my pr manager😭🙏

The next time was after the race, Kimi had a spectacular race and the rest of you? Well most had shunted into the wall and you? You had to be sent to the medics, the crash opening the stitches from your surgery, making you bleed from your mouth.

As usual, podcasters and pandits had a lot to say about that. Calling you and the rest of the rookies failed investments, unfit and even some going as far as useless. For you, one woman had even gone as far as calling you dangerous.

“Well, if he focuses more on driving rather than opening his mouth, there wouldn’t be blood or his foot in it right now, ” she’d said, “he’s dangerous! Today it’s him bleeding, tomorrow it’s someone else!” She continued. Y/n tried not to take it to heart, after all, the best drivers were called dangerous, and he had a long career ahead of him, right? Well, no time to ponder life when you had to go to Kimi’s party, well technically it was Lando’s party but rookies gonna support rookies.

kimiantonelli has posted a story

(a thirty-second clip of Y/n and Lando dancing closely and taking shots, pulling each other close and jumping to the music and Y/n turning towards Kimi and flashing a card to the screen pointing to it and screaming, making Kimi and others scream behind the camera as well)

kimiantonelli drinks on Lando for rest of the night!!

ynlnunoffcial

ynlnunoffcial Lando appreciation post + rookie after party!!

landonorris WHY IS THERE A 5000 CHARGE ON MY CARD??

ynlnunofficial ASK LIAM! HE WANTED CHAMPANGE

liamlawson Y/N TOLD ME HE WAS PAYING

ynlnunoffcial KIMI TOLD ME TO TAKE LANDOS CARD

kimiantonelli YOU HAD TO JOIN CREDIT FRAUD CLUB!

landonorris YOU DIDNT HAVE TO DO SHIT!?

userfive mind you, this post is after he stole his card.

usersix this is why he's dangerous!! This is a crime! He shouldn't even be a driver

userfive stfu obviously its a joke, do you think lando would be talking to him if he was actually pissed?

maxverstappen thank you for the g&t's y/n- i mean Lando 😂

ynlnunofficial OMG MAX- i mean you're welcome

landonorris woooowww im telling zak

You had gotten some backlash over the card 'theft', but hey, it was Kimi's idea, so you weren't the only one on the chopping block. Unfortunately, EVERYONE loved Kimi, and while you had a cult following, people definitely didn't like you like they loved the Italian.

After that night, Max had invited you on his jet, an invitation that had got you jumping in your room with joy till you realised you were still violently hungover and had to run to the washroom.

Max was your hero, and everyone had noticed, while most rookies said their idols were Micheal Schumacher or Lewis, you were the opposite; it was always Sebastian, Mark or Max. Your love for Red Bull ran deep, noticable by anyone, and the minute you could get that seat, you were going to jump. Fortunately, it didn't cause much tension between you, Liam and Isack, though.

On the flight, it was you, Max, Liam, and Lando. Yuki and Isack choosing to take their own travel.

You were practically vibrating with excitement. This was Max! Max Verstappen, 4 time world champion and an absolute legend and your idol, and he invited you to travel with him! How could you not be excited?

Liam knew about your slight obsession with Max, choosing to tease you about it on the way over.

“You’re just jealous that after today he’ll be my grid dad,” you puffed your chest with pride making Liam stutter.

“Wh-what? Absolutely not! He’s no one’s grid dad! He’s 26 and why would I be jealous?” He looked like an angry penguin, if penguins could even look angry.

You bounded up the private jets stairs, “See! You’re already jelly- he’s my grid father now, blondie, SUCK IT-” you yelled as you walked, Liam following you shaking his head, looking up to god as if asking ‘why me, man? Why me?’

“You are insane-” he’d begun when he saw you sitting right next to Max, where he’d usually sit, but was interrupted by Lando.

“I agree, Max why is this absolute menace on our plane?” He asked out loud with a grin, showing there was no real heat behind his words.

Max looked at the man across him, amused, “Our plane? I think you mean my plane, that I so graciously allow you on? For free?” He deadpanned, making Lando wave his hands.

“Tomato, potato-” he stopped himself to shake Liam’s hand, where Y/n had forced Max to move so he could sit in the window seat, Liam, even though younger had accepted his aisle seat.

“So, menace, what brings you to Air Max, today?” He smiled at the rookie, who looked like a puppy on caffeine- an unhealthy amount of redbull if Liam had to guess.

The younger blonde had begun to answer when he was promptly kicked, “Free travel and I’ve never been in a private jet before,” he answered animatedly.

He looked around nervously as the plane took off, clutching the arm rests making the rest of the men laugh.

“Aww are you scared!?” Liam cooed, making the rest laugh and Y/n scowl.

“Man, shut up-” he grabbed on harder when some turbulence hit, “it my first time flying without my dad, okay?” You felt like a 10 year old again, not missing the soft looks of pity the older men cast at you.

Thankfully, a stewardess came by with a cart full of drinks, the majority of them being different flavours of Red Bull. You jumped with excitement, both Liam and Max pushing you back in your seat. Lando and you looking at them in surprise.

“Wha-“ you’d begun but Liam interrupted you this time.

“No you gremlin, you’ve already have five!” He yelled, making Lando gasp.

“Five?” He asked,

“Five!” Liam replied like it was a musical.

Y/n looked to Max with pleading eyes, hoping the other redbull addict would understand, but nope.

“Sorry, kid, your Pr manager already told me not not to let you have any, apparently you become a ‘safety risk’ and she doesn’t have time for another ‘international incident’ whatever that means.” He shrugged.

But Y/n was relentless, he pulled his best Leo Leclerc impression, “but you have the new summer edition, the people need to know my thoughts! Think of the people, Maxie!” You yelled.

Lando had a matching glint in his eyes, happy that the target would now be someone else, “Yea, Max, think of the people.”

Max was about to give in, but looking at the panicked look in Liam’s eyes and the strong shaking of his head told him he’d have to listen to authority on this one. He told to stewardess to get them all some water much to Lando’s and y/n’s chagrin.

It turned out to be a blessing in disguise (for y/n atleast,) because when he fell asleep half way through the flight, knees to his chest, head in between his knees, Max couldn’t help his paternal instincts.

“Oh my god, he looks like donut,” he whispered, making the others look at him weirdly, “like Donatello, my cat,” Lando gasped.

“HE DOES-” he yelled, Max immediately shushing him.

“You are going to wake the kid!” He hissed quietly, placing his much larger jacket around the boy. Y/n, who seemed to notice the disturbance, moved but didn’t wake up, instead resting his head on Max’s shoulder. The older man stayed still instead of waking him up.

Liam’s eyes widened, “No fucking way- that Bastard- he actually did it-” he said to himself.

Lando, on the other hand, was taking pics, much to Max’s annoyance.

landonorris

landonorris @/maxverstappen has a new cat @/ynlnunoffical

landonorris just want everyone to know their favouraite war criminal is actually a softie

userseven lol which criminal Max or y/n?

landonorris Max mans didn't move an inch for five hours cause 'the kid's asleep'

userseven omg lando replied to me!! also omg Max and y/n 🥹

liamlawson I was also on the flight???

ynlnunofficial HAH get replaced bitch Max is MY GRID DAD NOW

liamlawson YOURE AN ADULT!!

ynlnunofficial told you you'd be jelly

liamlawson can you just be normal pls

ynlnunofficial @/maxverstappen @/charlesleclerc dad, mom- liam's bullying me!!

charlesleclerc why am i here? and why am i the mother?

usereight omg i love this kid so much

usernine pls their comments are killing me 😭 Liam's getting the full younger sibling experience.

userten not lando calling Y/n a cat 😂

Races weren’t going good. Australia was ofcourse the rookie killer, in the next your tires decided they didn’t want be tires anymore, the third was going well till Nico wanted to feel gravel… and take you with him and Bahrain? Well atleast nothing happened there but you didn’t get points. No where near actually. Hate was at an all time high, one mistake and you were dangerous again. Jay walking? Put him jail, messing around with your friends? You’re a distraction trying to sabotage their races. Post? You’re more focused on being an influencer than a driver.

Everything was getting too much, so of course, you could only think of one thing.

You ran to gather the rookies, Ollie and Kimi were ready, Isack, Jack and Gabi even more so, but Liam looked like you'd dragged him out of bed (you had).

“Men, today were gathered here for a holy purpose-” you began, trying to look as priestly as you could.

“I’d like to go back to bed!” Liam yelled, making Isack shush him, which caused them to start fighting between eachother.

“SILENCE!” You whisper-shrieked, “as I was saying, we’re here on a mission- a mission to steal Leo Leclerc-” another interruption.

“WHAT?” Barked(ironic huh?) Liam, trying to get others to see the stupidity in your actions.

Fortunately, everyone else was just as insane, “no no, let him speak,” said Jack,

“He’s got a point,” shrugged Gabi.

And that’s how there were seven of you outside Charles Leclerc’s room (curtesy of Ollie, of course.)

You heard the water running inside and knew this was the moment.

“fuuuuuckkkk-” you let you, dragging your hands down your face to everyone’s surprise, “the door?” You pointed out to everyone, their faces immediately accepting the information and falling with defeat.

“Well I guess we can go back to bed now,” Liam smirked, happy you looked pissed off.

Gabriel stepped ahead, shoving Liam making him falter, “not so fast,” he cracked his knuckles and pulled a card out his pocket. Everyone’s eyes widened as it actually opened the door.

You were astonished, “wha- how?” Everyone around was in the same shock. You looked into Gabi’s eyes and saw a whole new man looking back… a whole new bunch of opportunities too.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m not telling you shit!” He whispered into a cackle as the pushed the handle down.

“If I didn’t want to kiss you right now,” you muttered, pushing him.

The scene was almost comical, seven rookies with their heads peaking through the door, stacked with a Scooby doo scene, and one Leo Leclerc gnawing on what looked like… a sock?

“Psst, pssst, here doggy-” Isack called making the dog look up and honest to God roll his eyes.

Jack smacked him from above,“ he’s a dog, idiot,”

You shushed them both, “none of you are doing this right,” you said pulling out a strip of bacon from breakfast, making Kimi bellow you squirm.

“How long that has been in your pockets?” He asked revolted.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You winked before turning to Leo, still chewing on the sock, “Leo, look what I have! It’s bacon! Doggies love bacon!” You waved it in the air to nothing but a huff and judgmental look… from more than just the dog. “Bougie ahh dog what does Charles feed you-” you began to complain when the shower stopped.

Suddenly everything was completely still- you could see the dust particles fall, and the shallow breathing of the boys above you. You were all currently peeping into Charles Leclercs room-without invitation- right as he was coming out the shower!

Then everything moved, you fell to the ground, trying to shield Kimi from the weight of six others, when you saw a blond run out in front of you and run out a second later. The door closed as fast and quiet as possible and then you all were running back to your room. Panting and staring in surprise.

“What. Happened!?” Ollie screeched, looking at you, and for the first time, you didn’t have an answer.

Then there was a yip, then silence… then jumping on Liam- half to scream about him finally getting involved and the other to get Leo.

ynlnunoffcial

ynlnunoffcial BOYS SLEEPOVERRR + Leo for emotional support @/charlesleclerc you should get him therapy certified atp

charlesleclerc THATS WHERE LEO IS??? I THOUGH I LOST HIM I CRIED

maxverstappen its true he called me

ynlnunoffcial in our defence were about to kill ourselves 😫

liamlawson don't let that picture fool you, kimi and y/n slept for exactly five (5) mins

olliebearman mate i usually love pillow fightsThe- THESE IDIOTS WERE FIGHTING A PILLOW WAR

isackhadjar just to let everyone know my football team won

ynlnunoffcial just to let everyone know Leo chose me (1st pic is proof)

usertwelve THEY STOLE LEO??

Usertwo man why are yall shirtless (my girls on here man chill)

userone bro forget your girl im ovulating

userthree youre literally a man 💀

userfour talking about teenagers btw-

The sleepover had gone wonderfully, and everyone was a bit more relaxed. Leo had chosen to sleep in Ollie's lap after being cuddled by you all night (between the pillow fights).

There was only the quiet hum of the TV, with the occasional TikTok, when there was a loud banging on your door.

"OPEN THE DOOR!" A monacan voice yelled.

"OH SHIT" yelled seven others.

[thequietkid-moonie]

Little things they do when they are in love

[ HEADCANONS ] [ Wise, Lighter, Haramusa ]

[ Zenzless Zone Zero ]

Some of my favorite boooys ~ i been craving to read ANYTHING with them so i guess it would be better IF I JUST DO IT MYSELF SINCE I DONT FIND WHAT I WANT!!!

Hope you enjoy it, dear reader ~

Wise

Slowly getting involved on what you like. This is his way to share and get more into your life, he keeps mental notes of things you like and whenever he come across a tape about that topic he keeps it to watch it later (if it is a documental it is even better!), and he does it by things like music and TV shows too, he finds himself having your favorite songs in the background as he works or watching some of your favorite TV shows whenever he doesn't know what to watch and just want to relax

Keeping reminders about important things. Wise in an organized guy, he values a lot order so whenever you tell him something important for you he keeps mental notes, and sometimes even keep little notes about things that are important for you, special upcoming events and dates, he have notes in his wall and reminders in his phone (thanks Fairy for that actually)

Treating you like a child. Its not his intention to accidentally offend you or underestimate you but he is a big brother, he is used to her caotic sister so is just almost instictively that whenever you do something reckless or start to goof around his big brother side kicks in and somehow end up being the responsible adult of the relasionship, letting you just be but being aware in case he need to stop you before you injure yourself or something (although, he does end up talking to you as if you were a child)

Sharing interesting stories. Thanks to his work as proxy he had quite some experiences and funny stories, and after having to restart with a new account after being hacked those stories have just increased since he met interesting people, so he is always up to share those stories (without revealing names or concerning details), and whenever he isn't sharing stories about his work as proxy is about a tape he just saw that it was really interesting!

Giving you unexpected gifts. Wise has the costum to surprise you with small gifts, nothing too extravagant nor expensive but there are incredibly meaningful, but at the same time some of them are quite weird and unique, sometimes he gifts you things he have build himself, other times are small things he got back from hollows thanks to Eus (free from corruption) and other times are things he get thanks to his new friends, but no matter from where it comes the gift or what it is it is always given with a lot of love, just hoping it will make you smile

Lighter Lorenz

Remembering important things for you. Lighter doesn't remember much things, specially from the fights after all for him the fighting is not really important, is just his work (unless, of course, is someone who has ill intentions to any of the Sons of Calydon or you), however he does always remember important things for you, you are important for him so he make mental notes of things he sees important to remember for you, and thanks to that he would surprise you more than once with saying something you mentioned some time ago or by gifting you something incredibly meaningful

Shielding you from everything and anything. Lighter isn't the type to underestimate you but he is the type to put himself between you and danger, between the love and adoration he has for you and his past being protective over you is almost an instinct, he is quick to step infront of you when someone is mad at you, even threat anyone who means to actually harm you, but he is also quick to take place at your side to shield you whenever you two are in crowded places or just when you show the slighlest hint of discomfort

Carrying something that reminds him of you. Lighter carries some things on him of the people he lost, and since can be busy at times for long period of times so he always carries something on him that remind him of you too, he makes sure to never lose it nor get damage, specially if it is something you gifted him (if it gets damage because of a fight he will be furious before start feeling incredibly sad when seeing you again)

Letting his guard down whenever you two are together. Lighter is used to be on guard and to don't express much, he used to be almost all the time in fights and now that he is the champion of the Sons of Calydon too, but whenever is just the two of you Lighter find himself relaxing, his shoulders relaxed a bit as a sigh escape his lips with a smile, something that only happens with you

Openly expression love but in indirect ways. Despite his past and intimidating presence Lighter can be quite shy when it comes to romance, he has no problems with accepting his feelings nor admiting them out loud (well, not much problems) still when it comes to romantic and more direct gestures of his feelings like pda are actually dificult for him, he gets quite shy but still he finds way to express how much he loves you, keeping you close, putting an protective arm around you and giving you meaningful gift and things that could express how much he loves you without words

Asaba Haramusa

Patting your head. Haramusa is someone who loves cats, he love pampering them so there are times when for him you just look so adorable that he can't stop himself from patting your head like if you where a kitty, he may be caught of guard if you point it out and may even feel a bit embarrased but it doesn't really bother him, even if you try to tease him about it he will just laugh before turning around the teasing (and if you get flustered he will just think you are even more adorable!)

Staring at you in disbelieve. Harasuma had quite a lot of problem because of his sickness and the doctor that was taking care of him as a child, he was pretty insolate and sometimes feel self-councious because of his condition so there are times where he doze of while staring at you, his mind wandering around the memories he has with you, wondering how he have even been so lucky to have someone so amazing sticking at his side because of pure and sincere love

Always seaking your company. Between how comforting your presence is and how much he loves you Harasuma is constantly seaking for your company and comfort, but he isn't exactly clingy so he does in more subtle ways and is actually greatful for everytime you two get to spend some time just doing nothing special, those are times where he apreciate still being alive and being able to be with you

Expression love in indirect and child-like ways. Haramusa prefers to takes things easy and in a more laid back way, he does love you deeply but getting specially emotional isn't exactly his thing (he doesn't like it much), so he end up doing it in more child-like and innocent ways, by giving you silly compliments like how you are the best pillow or leaning over you whenever he is pretending to be sick to skip work

Keeping you as emergency contact. Haramusa doesn't like much giving more importance than necesary to his sickness, he doesn't like being stopped by it nor spend the time he still has worrying about it, so keeping you as an emergency contact is pretty much a big step, showing that he trust you with his life but at the same time indirectly saying that he trust you won't look down at him nor pity him for his condition

[teaboot]

hi tea, idk who to ask so i thought id give it a shot asking you but you dont have to answer if you dont want to o7 i was wondering, as an adult now, how do i know if i was abused/neglected as a child? lot of stuff was Not Normal but it wasnt anything super obvious like physical abuse, so im struggling to wrap my head around what used to happen vs the nice ppl my parents are now (mellowed a lot), to the point im questioning if i made some stuff up… does a therapist "confirm" if it was bad? where do i go from here? any words would be appreciated,, thanks in advance and much love, you (and ollie!!!) have brought me a lot of joy scrolling tumblr o777

Oof. Okay so MY primary issue im this was gaslighting and neglect, which of course is difficult to identify as the ‘victim’ because it’s the ABSENCE of a thing combined with a determined effort to reduce your confidence in your own ability to perceive and retain accurate data.

While it was happening, writing things down IMMEDIATELY after experiencing them and then holding on to notes helped me retain an account that I could refer to later when I was doubting myself.

AFTER…. Yeah, that’s hard.

What I learned from MY therapist is… well, a few things.

First off, depending on what issues you want to address and what goals you’re aiming for, there’s a limit to how much “real or imagined” matters. Like… if nobody is in danger anymore, and you aren’t pursuing legal action, “did my dad flush a hamster down the toilet or was that a dream” may be as simple as, “You feel as though you experienced it, and real or not it was traumatic, so let’s handle it like any other experienced trauma”. Again, though, that’s just my experience IN therapy, I’m no therapist myself.

As for “what is normal”- I myself HAVE asked my therapist to confirm if certain behaviours are universal or just things that happened in my family, and they were helpful with that. Again though, whether it was “normal” or not (most was not) we focused more on how I was affected by it and how to handle how I was impacted, why it was causing me distress NOW.

And some things fall into a weird grey area there. For example, spanking- there is still a decent amount of the population who are adamant that it’s not abuse. Legally, it isn’t recognized as abuse im a lot of areas. But studies have repeatedly shown that spanking your kids is just as traumatizing as hitting them. So is it “normal”? Kinda. Is it healthy? No. Can it fuck you up? Yes. So… stuff like that happens, too.

So like. Again, just my uneducated opinion and personal experience, but a therapist CAN help you figure out what is normal and what isn’t, or what’s healthy and what isn’t, but after that I’d let go of the social idea of “normal” á but and ask- regardless of if it’s normal, was it healthy for me, and how is it affecting me NOW?

(also. One thing that helped me a bit was knowing that most of the time if you’re questioning the normality of weird childhood shit,?- lot of the time that’s a sign.)

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 8 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: How beautiful your life could be, if only you weren't so damaged and he wasn't so deranged. And despite all that, you can't help but want him and submit to his twisted desires. You also can't help but think something about him is more off than usual.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, smut, (rough) oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, degradation kink, mouth-spitting, dom/sub dynamics, daddy, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

You felt a tight knot form in your stomach as you stared down at the blister in front of you.

Of course you knew it was necessary. You couldn’t imagine a more irresponsible thing than to conceive a child of a psychopath like him. And yet, you felt your thoughts wander down a dangerous path again.

He had never explicitly said he wanted you to take them. It was almost like a part of him was keen on getting you pregnant. Like the mere thought of filling you up again and again and again, serving the purpose of knocking you up, turned him on even more. And still, he bought them for you and left them on the kitchen table. It was your decision, you suddenly realized.

How irresponsible of him.

Didn’t he understand you were hardly able to even take care of yourself? Let alone a child.

Let alone birth a child.

There was actually nothing that scared you more. Not your mother, not him, not even the prospect of being sold off into some sick psychopaths’ fangs. Another psychopaths’.

No, the thought of having to bear a child, dying during the delivery or – God forbid, something going wrong and you losing it – was your worst fear.

You didn’t even know where the fear came from. It had simply always been there, even when you were a child.

Even when you thought you’d never have sex.

And now you had had sex. And he bought the pill, because he was considerate like that.

He was twisted and cruel, scary and sadistic and yet he put on this façade, this front, of a perfect man, whenever he wanted to. He paid bills and he owned this beautiful apartment. He was obviously well-read and he knew how to cook. He wasn’t a rapist. A murderer, yes. But not a rapist.

He was many things. One of them was always far more prominent than the others.

He was sick.

You couldn’t tell if he had been born like this or if there were things that happened which made him turn out the way he did. Whatever it was, he was sick now.

So far, you only had a hunch of the things he truly enjoyed. He had briefly mentioned some of them. Others you had guessed. The erection he got whenever he beat you was enough for you to realize he liked to hurt people.

He threatened you with words and objects more than once. A knife, a gun, a belt, a whip.

So far, so good, right? Many people were into pain, either receiving or delivering.

He was also into blood. For some reason, you could tell.

He enjoyed degrading you. Calling you names whenever he got angry, making you crawl around like a dog and drink from a bowl on the floor.

So far, he had always taken care of his insanity on his own. Treated the bulge in his pants with silence, ignoring it skillfully like it wasn’t there. But you saw it, felt its’ presence like a specter.

The one time you had sex had been nothing like you expected. The gentleness in his touch, his kisses on your neck and body and God, the sinful things he did with his tongue.

You remembered the feeling vividly and it immediately sent a shiver through your body. You took a soft breath and tried to focus back on the pill, but somehow your mind didn’t comply. You kept asking yourself, if you had somehow signed a death warrant when you agreed to be his girl.

You did it to survive, surely, but you slowly felt your resolve crumble. There was more to it, you acknowledged it. But you didn’t allow yourself to think about the things you felt, while you had sex. You blamed his gentle touch. His ardent kiss. The way he subtly threatened all the people who had ever wronged you.

You closed your eyes. God, what was going on in your head?

All you needed was a breath of fresh air to clear out your head.

Would you ever breathe real air again?

You wanted a family one day, didn’t you?

Now you couldn’t tell if you would ever get that. Looking back, it hadn’t been all too sure before he abducted you either. After all, all you ever did was hide yourself behind computer screens and book pages. But now you were here and he had taken that chance from you.

Or had he?

Would he ever let you go?

No. You remembered his words like the lyrics of a song you hated, yet it kept playing on the radio day and night.

I’ll never let you go.

And for some reason, you knew he didn’t just say that. He meant it. And you remembered what you thought when you first came here.

You wouldn’t ever leave this place. At least not alive.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the front door open. Your head perked up and before he had the chance to enter the kitchen, you choked down the plan-b-pill with half a glass of water. You swallowed and stared down at the empty blister with wide eyes.

You had to play along, yes. But you couldn’t give him some foolish, twisted hope for something that just wasn’t an option.

The kitchen door opened and he came inside, his briefcase still in his hand. He looked down at you, taking in your flushed expression and his gaze wandered down to the empty blister. A faint hint of recognition flashed over his handsome features, followed by something you were sure was disappointment. But he schooled his expression so quickly, it immediately reminded you of the instability of his mind.

He tilted his head to the side and smiled at you. You couldn’t quite grasp the meaning behind the smile. It most likely wasn’t genuine. When had it ever been?

“Darling”, he said in a soft tone. Then he did something that made your chest ache. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You felt like throwing up. You were sure you were stuck in some kind of cruel video game, a sick simulation of yet another psychopath who enjoyed torturing poor, deranged girls. Girls who never had a chance anyway.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to smile back, but it was indeed a failed attempt.

Things were somewhat less tense between you, since you had sex. Sometimes he let you speak your mind without hurting you in return. And sometimes, like that day, he came home and kissed you. Like you were a normal couple.

Like you were a couple at all.

It was painful. Because, no matter how hard you tried to shut the dangerous thoughts out, they always snuck their way back into your head.

He would have made the perfect man, if only he was normal.

If only he was human.

And if only you were, too.

He turned away from you and set the briefcase down on a chair, before he washed his hands. You couldn’t help but stare. It looked so normal, almost innocent.

A man who came home and the first thing he did was to wash his hands.

A man to fall in love with.

You forced your gaze away.

“Did you eat anything today?” He asked matter-of-factly, without even looking at you.

You still nodded. “There were a few of these things left. You know, the ones that look like sushi, but aren’t.”

“Gimbap.”

“Gimbap.” You repeated and he smirked.

He dried his hands and turned to look at you. “That’s all you ate today?”

You shrugged and he sighed. “How did you even survive up until now?”

You thought about it. Breakfast was easy. Back in England even. But lunch was where it got hard. You either ate leftovers or nothing. It was like you were unable to cook if it was for you only.

As if you were unable to exist properly when you were alone.

It made you realize how empty your days were whenever he left. You spent most of your time waiting for him, reading or crying and brooding over the horror that was your life.

But even before that, even before him, you had barely functioned on your own.

It was like your depression got worse, the longer you were alone.

It didn’t matter that your mother was the devil in human form, at least you ate when she was around.

Whenever she’d let you.

At some point in your life, you learned to really appreciate food, especially when it was homecooked. You weren’t good at this. You didn’t doubt that you could cook and all that, you just didn’t know how to really live.

A part of you appreciated the numbness even more for that exact reason. Your sadness was your solace, your darkness your shelter.

You didn’t need to worry about existing, when you weren’t really there. It was just a body trying to keep itself alive, while your soul floated around in non-existence.

A small frown formed on his face and he stepped closer, resting his hands on your shoulders. You had almost grown accustomed to his touch by now.

You could tell when to expect a blow and when not.

In most cases.

Was now the time?

“Go, take a bath.” He purred in your ear. “I’ll make dinner.”

You closed your eyes and suddenly you were all too aware again. The thought you had so skillfully avoided since that night.

Today was the day.

The night, actually.

And he’d finally get to have his way with you.

The thought equally sent a warm shiver as well as cold sweat spiraling down your skin.

“Alright.” You murmured and got up. You exhaled a soft sigh and before you left turned back to face him once more. He was still looking at you, the soft, seductive smile on his lips. But his eyes were narrowed in a way that told you there was indeed more on his mind than he let on.

You forced yourself to look away and leave the room. Within a few minutes, you prepared yourself a bath and with a soft sigh sank into the warm water. It felt like a gentle embrace, which was so very needed after everything you went through every day.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes and try to relax for once.

He had kindly repaired the door and put it back in its place to give you a semblance of privacy, but he didn’t restore the lock.

You didn’t get the privilege of ultimate privacy.

You kept your eyes closed as you tried to imagine what tonight would bring.

Mostly, you dreaded it.

He’d be cruel.

He’d be selfish.

You’d wake up the next morning, feeling battered and bruised.

So not much different from how it had been so far. Except for that one night. But as much as you loved to think back at it and revel in the memory, you knew it would be more clever to try and erase it from your mind.

That had never happened.

He had never kissed your neck or the inside of your thighs.

He had never called you princess.

Never taken your virginity with such gentleness and care.

Your brows furrowed and you felt your hand itch to move down your body, when you heard the faint knock on the bathroom door. Your eyes shot open and your first reaction was to cover yourself.

What a ridiculous thought, but you still fumbled for a towel. When he came in and witnessed that, you all wet and reaching for a towel you would never reach in time, he raised a brow and smirked. He had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves again in that way that made you weak.

When you finally realized you wouldn’t reach the towel without breaking your neck, you instead delved back down into the water, keeping your gaze on him.

“You’re still shy around me. How cute.”

You attempted to shoot him a glare, but that worked about as good as your smile did earlier.

“Did you want something?”

He hummed and slowly inched closer, as he let his gaze shamelessly rake over your body in a way that made you feel hot and cold all the same.

“Actually, yes.” He purred as he slowly leaned down to get a better look at your wet, shivering form. The warm water didn’t prevent him from staring at you and it didn’t prevent you from feeling exposed and excited under his gaze.

“You looked so miserable earlier. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

You immediately frowned. That was hardly the reason. As gentle as he happened to be sometimes, he wasn’t caring or soft like that. Or even genuine.

He was cold and cruel and psychotic.

“I’m-“

Your words died on your tongue when suddenly he slid his hand under the water surface. It didn’t take him two seconds to force your legs apart and slide his fingers over your already slick core.

You inhaled sharply and your brows furrowed in a mixture of surprise, embarrassment and arousal. You looked up at him with half-lidded, confused eyes.

“I thought…after dinner”, was all you managed to gasp out.

He hummed in response. No muscle on his face moved as he slowly slid his index finger inside you, curling it torturously.

“Oh God.”

It didn’t take him longer than a few seconds to have you writhe and moan. You had quickly noticed that he was good at what he was doing. He knew where to touch you, how to move his fingers and when to use his tongue instead. He knew exactly how to roll his hips. When to be rough and when gentle.

The thought filled you with as much relief as it filled you with jealousy.

There had been others before. That was all you could think about.

It wasn’t the fact that he barged into the bathroom and took control of your body whenever he pleased, that bothered you. It was the thought that he might have done this to someone else before he met you.

And the thought made you feel nauseous with jealousy.

You almost wanted to be angry at him, for being able to, for having the audacity to have had someone else before you.

While he was the only one who ever took you.

The only one who ever parted your lips with his tongue.

The only one who had ever felt you around him, envelop him and take him in like he belonged there.

You wanted to stay angry, but his fingers did things to you that clouded your mind. Your eyes rolled back and you were nearly there.

“Please-“

But the next moment, you let out a desperate whine, when you felt him swiftly withdraw his hand.

“Please…”

He smirked.

“Please what, sweet girl?”

Your face flushed furiously and you looked down at the bath water.

The spell was intact again. And you were unable to speak your wicked mind.

“Look at me.” He said in a rather firm tone. You immediately did. His eyes were a mixture of curiosity and wariness. He narrowed them slightly.

“Say it.”

You wanted to bite your lip and avert your gaze, but the way he stared down at you with such an intensity made you reconsider.

“Please let me cum.” You whispered in a voice that was hardly your own.

He hummed. He was obviously pleased and the smirk was back.

“Please let you cum, what?”

Since he didn’t have a name, he made you choose between Daddy and Sir, whenever one felt like it made any sense in the situation.

Daddy was far more embarrassing, but also more intimate.

Calling him Sir felt more degrading though. Which was something he probably liked.

You didn’t know which one was worse, so you always went for the one that fit the aesthetic of the moment best.

“Please let me cum, daddy.” You whispered, your face red.

He chuckled. A horrible sound.

A beautiful sound.

“Good girl.”

He slid his hand back down and instantly you felt his finger back inside you, before he slowly added a second one. It was enough to let you release a soft sigh and lean your head against the edge of the tub.

It was so easy to relax when he had you like this.

You could always count on him to make you cum.

And that was exactly what he did. He moved his fingers inside you in such a pleasurable and skilled way, that he had you writhing and begging within a few more seconds. An explosive wave of warmth and bliss filled you, while you arched your hips up against his hand, desperately seeking the friction and the release that only he could give to you.

You had never felt anything close to this before.

Once you slowly came down from your high, you took a moment to regain your ability to breathe and then you slowly opened your eyes.

You looked up at him and the way he smirked down at you with such smugness. It made you want to punch and kiss him.

“Thank me.” He whispered.

You swallowed. It was always far more embarrassing afterwards. “Thank you for making me cum, daddy.”

He bared his teeth in a grin. “Good girl. Now, open your mouth for me.”

You didn’t even have the time to digest his words, when you already felt him push his fingers in your mouth. A soft gasp came over your lips as he parted them and rubbed his fingers over your tongue, making you taste yourself on him.

Were you supposed to be embarrassed or repulsed? Probably. But all you truly felt was how the arousal slowly began to build again. The heat pooled between your legs whenever he got like this. Demanding, rough, but also gracious enough to let you cum.

You moaned when he pushed his fingers deeper in, all the while he had his eyes fixed on your face. His lips were slightly parted and there was a thoughtful frown on his face, as he began to fuck your mouth with his fingers, making saliva drip down your chin.

You choked back the gag that threatened to escape and forced yourself to keep looking at him, despite the way your eyes watered and slowly got more and more red.

“Come out.” He whispered. “Come out of the tub. On your knees.”

You withdrew your mouth from his hand, only to hold onto his arm and get up in a hurry, not caring that you got everything wet.

It was what he did to you all the time, anyway.

You knelt down on the cold bathroom floor, ignoring the ache between your legs. Had you just released? You couldn’t tell. You already felt desperate for him again.

He made you do this every so often, kneel and look up at him like an obedient little doll. Suck on his fingers and look into his eyes.

But he’d never gone further than that. Until now. You could tell. Now was different.

And it made you as nervous, as it turned you on.

“Take my belt off.” He whispered.

You forced your gaze away from his face just long enough to slowly unbuckle his belt. Your fingers were shaking against the leather. The nervousness won.

When you kept fidgeting with it restlessly, he gently stopped you and pushed your hands down and instead, did it himself. He got rid of the belt within seconds and it landed on the ground with a soft click. His slacks followed in a swift movement, until all there was left separating you was the thin material of his boxers.

His hardness strained against them and you found yourself aching to free him of them.

You had never known you were so terribly wicked.

And you were sure you hadn’t been, until you met him.

You hadn’t had any form of sex aside from the way he sometimes teased you and fingered you to oblivion ever since that night. He wanted to give you some time to adjust to your new role as his girl.

His princess. His fucktoy.

And now here you were. On your knees, wet as hell and desperate to feel him.

The memory of that night shot back into your head and it made you ache again. You remembered how you had expected him to send you back to your room. To just be finished with you and get rid of you like you were nothing more than a toy he’d use whenever he felt like it.

But instead he let you stay. You had spent the night curled up against his side, feeling his heart beat next to yours.

He was so terribly confusing.

Of course you didn’t find any sleep that night. And he probably didn’t either. You were unable to fully trust him, despite your gentle and considerate encounter. And he was probably unsure if he had broken you enough to not try and slit his throat in the middle of the night.

Maybe he’d trust you fully one day.

You liked to think that.

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts again. “Kiss me.”

You licked your lips in a desperate attempt to fight the dryness of your mouth, but nothing worked. So instead you took a shaky breath and slowly leaned in. You brushed your lips over the waistband of his boxers and slowly, so very slowly, moved them further down. By the time they reached his arousal, you felt him breathe out a moan.

“Take them off.” He murmured. “And I don’t want to see your hands for the time being.”

You could imagine what that meant. With a shaky breath, you slowly brought your hands behind your back and dug your nails into your wrists.

Oh God, he would ravage you.

And oh God, you wanted him to.

You bit down on the material and tried to carefully pull the boxers down. It took you two more attempts, but eventually you managed to pull them down to his knees and then they slid off of him on their own. You pulled your head back and were greeted by the sight of his hardened cock, throbbing and waiting to ruin you even more.

Your heart skipped a beat and your chest heaved rapidly under the weight of your nervous breaths. You licked your lips again. This time, they weren’t dry.

You slowly looked up at him, your eyes wide and nervous.

He didn’t mock or tease you this time. He seemed more focused and stern than ever before.

You felt his fingers tangle in your hair and gently curl up in it.

“Worship me.”

The words were enough to draw a soft whimper from your lips.

“I’m not sure, how.” You murmured.

He shook his head. “You’ll figure it out.”

You swallowed again and nodded before you slowly let your gaze wander down again.

Even his cock was perfect.

You took a deep breath and leaned in. The moment you brushed your lips over the tip, he exhaled a soft moan. You closed your eyes.

Fucking hell.

You slowly moved your lips down his length and back up again, unsure how to start and where.

The feeling of him on your lips was enough to drive you insane and you caught yourself wanting more. You were nervous, but also eager.

You wanted to watch him throw his head back in pleasure and call out your…well, however he would call you.

When he got a little impatient, he bucked his hips and you felt him press forward and slowly part your lips on his own. A moan came over your lips when you felt him slowly press further and further forward, until he bumped against the warm wetness of your tongue.

“Ah, yes.”

The sounds he made were enough to motivate you further. You opened your mouth wider and coated him in your saliva, feeling him go slick and throb against your tongue. His hand in your hair tightened and he pulled you closer against him.

You hummed against him and slowly wrapped your lips around him, sucking gently and moving up and down like you’d seen in countless videos.

His grip only ever got tighter and God, the sounds he made.

You tried to glance up at him as he moved. The reaction to your touch was written on his face. He bit down on his lip and stared down at you with a focused frown.

You felt so dirty and sinful, naughty and wicked and every time he bucked his hips up, you were sure you felt yourself get close without even being touched.

“Good girl.” He breathed out. “My good girl. My dirty girl. Let me fuck your pretty mouth.”

His hand tightened even more in your hair, until his grip was bordering on painful. He held your head in place as he began to move his hips, thrusting against your mouth like a madman. You found yourself in a chokehold, gagging against him and desperately gasping for air. All the while you were sure you felt your own arousal slowly drip down your thighs. You had a hard time keeping your hands behind your back.

All you wanted was to touch yourself. But you knew better than to try that.

He roughly pulled your head back by your hair and you had to suppress a wince of pain. You were about to ask what the hell was going on, when he gritted out: “Open your mouth.”

You immediately obeyed, parting your swollen, aching lips for him. You knew what was coming, you knew he would degrade you and you didn’t mind.

You would probably hate yourself afterwards, like you normally did when you fantasized about such things. But in that moment, you didn’t care the least bit. You wanted to make him feel good. You wanted to make him cum. You wanted to please him.

You opened your mouth and just a second later you felt his saliva slide past your lips, gliding down your tongue. An involuntary moan came over your lips and your brows furrowed as you stared up at him, feeling a myriad of emotions.

“Good girl. Swallow.”

Your mouth fell shut and you obeyed. You swallowed his spit like a good girl.

His good girl.

His girl.

The sound he made was torturous. A moan mixed with a sigh.

“Yes, just like that.” He murmured. “Fuck, yes. Suck me off, baby. Make me cum.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You parted your lips and took him back in. He kept bucking his hips against you, but you were determined to meet him halfway.

Fighting against the gagging and the small scare you got whenever you felt like you couldn’t breathe, you kept moving. Again and again, flicking your tongue against him and moaning against him, until you felt him tense up. His grip on your hair became so hard, it felt like he was trying to rip your hair out. All the while his painfully hard cock throbbed against your tongue.

And then he came.

You felt him coat your mouth and throat with his seed, causing you to moan at the intensity and surprise of it.

He was shaking and grunting in pleasure, keeping himself pressed against you as tight as possible, until the throbbing began to subside slowly.

He licked his lips, since his own mouth seemed to be pretty dry by now and finally released his tight grip on your hair. Instead he soothingly rubbed his fingertips along your scalp and sighed deeply.

“Fuck.” He breathed out. “Show me your mouth.”

It took you a moment, but you swallowed the evidence of his lustful outburst and eventually opened your mouth to show him it was empty.

He hummed in approval and gently cupped your cheek in his hand. You found yourself leaning into his touch like a cat craving attention.

“My good girl.” He praised in a soft whisper. “God, you’re so good for me. I-“

He frowned deeply and stopped himself. You quickly looked up at him.

Oh God, you had done something wrong.

Oh, no, no, no, not right now, damn it.

But the dreaded yell never came and he also didn’t attempt to push you back or slap you. Instead he cleared his throat and gently pulled you back up to your feet.

“You enjoy being my girl, don’t you?”

You stared at him speachlessly. What were you supposed to say to that? And why was he asking that right now?

Despite the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts you had, you found yourself nodding.

“Good.” He said quietly and gently caressed your cheek.

Something was off. Something was always off, but now, you were sure you had no connection to his thoughts whatsoever. You could never really tell what he was thinking, but sometimes you got lucky and got a glimpse of whatever it was he hid behind nonchalance and psychopathy.

Or was that truly all that there was to him?

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “Come. We have a bath to finish.”

He got rid of his shirt and within seconds submerged under the water. You watched him with a thoughtful expression, before you quietly followed him. You sat with your back pressed against his chest.

He would say something cruel.

He couldn’t be gentle, without having a cruel jab follow. He just couldn’t.

But all you felt was how he slowly poured some warm water over your hair, before he gently massaged the shampoo into your scalp.

The same scalp he had just bruised while he used you like a doll.

He washed the water out and it felt like a piece of Heaven. You allowed yourself to close your eyes and lean back against him.

If only every moment of your life could be like this.

“I never knew you could be so wicked.” He whispered as he began to gently massage your shoulders. You sighed at the touch. Another thing he was so skilled at.

Another thing to get jealous over.

His words made your face flush and you suddenly remembered how you had writhed in agony while he used your mouth, how your fingers had ached to touch yourself.

“I…”

“I like that side of you.” He murmured without taking his hands off you. “When you let go, I mean. I can tell you’re enjoying it. You’re just too ashamed to think about it.”

When you didn’t respond, he leaned closer and his breath tickled your ear when he whispered.

He was indeed the devil.

Beautiful, dangerous and manipulative.

“Don’t worry, my sweet girl. I’ll make you overcome that, too.”

_____________________________________________________

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If I forgot anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it!

I freaking love you all!

[bats-and-the-birds]

I made a post involving young/feral/perceived cryptid Dick Grayson and someone tagged something about Barry Allen losing his mind when this terrifying child befriends his nephew and I have NOT stopped thinking about this since.

Because like, imagine you're Barry Allen. You've been doing this hero thing for a while, and you've seen a lot of things, but now your nephew has gotten himself wrapped up in this too, and goddamnit, you're worried because you know this life isn't easy.

Then he makes a friend - Ollie's boy, Roy Harper - and you breathe a little bit easier, because you know that however rough this life is, it's worse without friends. Besides, it's sweet. They're young boys, and they roughhouse, and tell stupid jokes, and play video games together sometimes. It's nice to see Wally just be a kid with someone that he doesn't have to hide from. And, yeah, sure, they get into trouble sometimes, pull pranks that go too far, get themselves in danger because they think they can take on something they can't, but it's still a net positive, because you need friends in this line of work, and that's exactly what they've found.

And you think about Robin. Not often, but you do think about him. Because you know nothing about him, and you don't want to, but he still has the face of a boy that's younger than your nephew. You wonder if he has friends.

But really, you don't think about him that much. You don't want to. He's freaky, and generally, thinking too hard about anything to do with the Bat is inadvisable.

Then there's a fight. A big one. You don't even really know who's fighting on your side until everything has cleared. It was basically the entire Justice League, no one dead, but a few injuried. And your nephew's there too. And Roy. And Robin.

No one really goes near Robin, ever. It was an unspoken rule, of sorts, and you're pretty sure it's just because everyone's scared of messing with Batman's little bird, though whether that was due to fear of Batman or the bird himself, you're not sure.

But Wally doesn't seem to know this. Wally doesn't seem to care. He runs up to Robin with a big grin on his face and grabs his hand, trying to tug him over to where Roy was patching up some injuries.

You notice that Robin doesn't go with him immediately. In fact, he looks confused. But if you know anything about your nephew, he's persistent, and eventually Robin lets himself be dragged over. Roy seems unconcerned, but you can tell that the other adults in the vicinity shift uncomfortably, unsure of what they should do, or if they should do anything at all.

It doesn't last long anyway. Batman calls for Robin and he bounds off, but you notice he stops and hesitantly waves a gloved hand at your nephew before he leaves. Wally waves back.

You don't think much of it.

Then, the next time you and Ollie catch Wally and Roy fighting something they shouldn't be, Robin's right there with them. It's the first time you've seen Robin without Batman in close proximity, and you think he looks just a little bit more human. He smiles sheepishly with the other boys when they're chastised for fighting things that they shouldn't, and you watch Roy ruffle his hair like there's nothing to be worried about. You're still worried.

You still don't think much of it though. Even when Robin's there with the two of them the next time, and the time after that.

But then, oh dear god, he's in your house. You don't actually notice him at first, for two whole hours, because it's normal to see Wally and Roy sitting on the couch and playing video games. You just don't realize that there's a third head in between them until you sit down in an adjacent armchair to see what they're playing, because Robin is just short enough that his head doesn't peak over the back of the couch.

You have to blink a few times to make sure what you're seeing is real, because nestled in between the two slightly older heroes in their civilian attire is Robin, sans his gloves, cape, and boots, but otherwise still in full uniform with his mask still firmly in place, holding a video game controller and laughing while Wally elbows his side to try to make him lose.

And you just sit back in your chair and stare, because what the hell are you even supposed to do in this situation? Your nephew has decided to make friends with Batman's goddamn son - the boy that you've seen sneak up on League members with super hearing, break a grown man's femur, and somehow fade into shadows in a bright yellow cape - and it worked. And now he's playing video games on your couch. And you don't know what to do about that.

[emiqip]

Pt.2 Apocalyptic Ponyo AU ft. Shockwave and his menaces @keferon

If there was something you learned while living in the ugly, rotten and forgotten parts of the city your whole life, it was that trust was to be given away scarcely and returned fiercely. 

Damus learned this lesson fast. Abandoned beside a squalid garbage bin after his guardian couldn't afford to take care of him anymore- not that they tried in the first place anyway. Life got only more complicated from there: food and shelter were always scarce and had to be fought for, especially if you were a scrawny kid like him and had to tussle and shove middle-aged junkies daily, to be able to scavenge inside the most recent load of trash from the local shitty restaurant in hopes for some lukewarm scraps. 

And then years passed and he became less and less alone. Other kids joined him and life became just a tad bit more bearable. He slowly warmed up to them, feeling for maybe the first time the warmth of what could resemble a family, even if his was little and a bit broken. They looked out for each other: yes the older kids obviously held the most authority and weight out of all of them, but it wasn't unusual to see the twins putting on their best intimidating appearances and stand tall in front of any adult after they dared pick on one of their older siblings- he had seen the scratches and bite marks covering the poor soul who tried to steal Windcharger's lunch...

It had always been left unsaid, but it was clear they loved and cared deeply for each other- that sort of care that looked rough and jagged from an outsider perspective, but it was their kind of love and nobody- adult or whatever could ever have a say in this. 

But it was when you cared so intensely that even at the mere prospect of losing something so dear, your body and soul started betraying you.

He felt it when the apocalypse hit and now... as he watched Blue- young, naive and kind Blue, caged behind a massive wall of sharp teeth and even sharper claws, smiling happily, without a care in the world.

The beast followed the gaze of its small prisoner and finally locked eyes with the new arrivals. Sharp cat-like blue eyes curiously took in the presence of the remaining kids, with its mouth slightly open in surprise, the monster tilted its head and from its throat came forward a small melody of clicks and trills. 

Damus felt his heart sink. God, what did he do in a previous life to deserve this? When he caught himself moving forward on shaky legs, it was already too late. His brain was in overdrive. He had to get the kid out of this situation now. 

"...Blue, buddy, I want you to listen to me very carefully." His throat felt dry and the hands that were clutching his weapon were clammy with sweat. 

"Uh? O-okay." The younger kid briefly looked at his captor before returning his focus on his brother. 

"...walk slowly towards me and hide behind us." 

"What?! Dee I'm not in danger yeah I know Sir. Pancake can be a bit intimidating at first even I was scared but he patched up my knee with some sea moss I don't know how he knew how to do that but-" 

"Buddy please- just- sigh come here Blue!" He hated interrupting his littlest brother during one of his spiels, but now was not the right time. Stress and frustration began eating up at him from inside: why couldn't he see how dangerous this thing really was?! 

"No." 

Wait. 

"WHAT?" 

"I said. No."

Bluestreak huffed, crossing his arms in a pure show of defiance. "I'm perfectly safe where I am, you're being a jerk." To everyone's absolute horror the child lifted his right hand and patted one of the beast clawed fingers to prove his point- in return he got a quiet happy trill. 

"If he really wanted to hurt me he would've done so already and I'm not letting you shoot him." 

He hated to admit he kinda had a point. When the twins left the scene they left the two alone, leaving the youngest completely unprotected against a beast several times bigger than himself. If that thing really wanted to see them all dead, he wouldn't even be here to ponder the possibility. 

Oh for fuck sake, he knew where this was going. They were NOT going to adopt a random fish person. 

Were they?

 \\\

Well wasn't this quite the situation he found himself in? 

Honestly, he had been only searching for a place to finally experience some peace and quiet, away from the grubby hands of the Senate and, consequently, his very dear colleagues. If he had to speak with esteemed senator Tyrest again and entertain him as he blabbed away about 'Rectitude' and 'Order', while an impressive persistent piece of algae clinged on his front teeth- he was going to lose it and offer himself as lunch to the first frenzied monster he found. 

As he reached the surface he began to notice the utter and total destruction around him. Apparently a massive cataclysm had hit a few days prior, leaving the city in utter squalor- he wondered how many lost their lives in the wreckage. Wondering the landscape now engulfed by water. He passed what were once streets, houses and parks- ordinary places where people like his spent their time just... living. 

He wasn't unfamiliar with humans, of course: little hardy creatures, with a knack for destroying everything they came across, even themselves. But he would be lying if he didn't admit he came to favor them- oh, yes! Their utter lack of self preservation had wholly endeared them to him. How depressing things turned out to be. 

He let his train of thoughts race aimlessly as he finally let himself breach the water and slowly heave himself on a random slab of abandoned concrete, perfectly warmed up by the midday sun and he prepared himself to doze off to the calming lull of the waves around him...

A voice- oh no, a couple whispering voices reached his audial fins. They sounded young, very young, but he could not discern the meaning of their words. Too entranced by the new language he didn't notice that one of the speakers was getting quite close to his face, until he felt a sharp poke on his cheek that abruptly made him open his eyes and stand on alert. 

What came after happened too quickly for his still foggy brain to follow entirely: three small humans, most likely guppies, scrambled away from him. The two he presumed were the oldest sprinted as far as possible, while the runt of the bunch got his tiny final caught on a stray rock and fell miserably on the hard ground. 

The other screeched once more as they hurried away to who-knows-where, leaving him and their tiny companion alone. Surely not the best wake-up call he ever had but it can only go better from here, can it? 

A tiny whimper woke him up from his stupor as he once again focused on the small pile of human still plastered on the floor before him. Poor dear must have hurt himself, well that won't do. Slowly, gently he caressed the back of the little darling as he kept softly hiccuping- it was a shame humans skin wasn't as tough as his, it would prevent such inconveniences to happen, not that he blamed the little thing for his own poor biology, of course. 

"Oh sweetheart, it's going to be okay I promise. You're a very tough small fry, I've got you." He let himself coo softly like he heard parents do to their own off-spring. Still minding his own size and sharp points, he dared to nudge the guppy over and inspect the damage himself- turns out the little one had only grazed his right limb, nothing a small dab of sea moss cannot fix. 

As he tended to the guppy's injury, he witnessed the little thing's mood change completely: from an inconsolable heap on the floor to a lively chatterbox- even if the meaning still escaped from him, the constant stream of sound made for a pleasant background as he continued his ministrations. And anyway, the guppy was happy just talking his audials away, who was he to stop his fun? 

Once he deemed his work acceptable enough, he gently prodded the little one to stand beside him, close enough to cover him with one of his fins as a make-shift blanket, and keep him cozy and warm against the evening ocean breeze. Sleep crept closer to him once more, as he listened to his new small ward rant about this and that, while the last rays of the sun warmed his back. Content and at ease he felt his body betray him as he recognized a familiar pleased rumble start in his throat. 

He let himself relax further, knowing this far out nothing would dare attack him and his little guppy. However, he was pleasantly surprised when from the rubble emerged three more small humans. 

Well, he counted six unattended little ones so far- this was getting quite awkward really, who was leaving all these children lying around? They were clearly sporting some sort of weapons, he guessed- although he felt that was reasonably natural, considering humans didn't have any claws or sharp fangs to defend themselves with. 

He watched as the two parties shared a fairly animated conversation. These were most likely his guppy's little friends or... siblings? No matter really since they were all way too young to be wandering around alone in a place like this. 

It was final then! He ought to protect and care for these little ones, until they wouldn't need him anymore.

pt.3 !!