#but then even after most of the people left he asked how my day was going and when i responded with “it was a day”

[daryltwdixon]

Joel Miller x Reader Just Coffee

fluffy Joel drabble to help clear my head. I was a barista for 8+ years and loved my regulars, so this is like a little slice of my life when I worked for a family owned coffee shop in the downtown of a city. Hope you enjoy! lmk if you want a ptII cause im thinking hot car sex w these two after their first date.

Inspired by that tlou (game) scene where Ellie asks if Joel used to go to coffee shops, and he admits, ‘All the time.’ And when she asks what he would order, he says, ‘Coffee, just coffee’ 

Vanilla latte, iced—extra pump of vanilla, three pumps of caramel, swirl, whipped cream. Chai latte, soy milk—hot, extra hot. Cold brew with sweet cream, shot of peppermint. London Fog—extra foamy, not too hot.

"Coffee. Just coffee."

You could’ve kissed him right then and there. And he was handsome enough that you wouldn’t even have to close your eyes. He must’ve caught the way your shoulders relaxed, how the sigh left your body like a weight lifted.

“Comin’ right up,” you smiled, ringing him up as he slid a few ones into your very, very empty tip jar.

‘Just Coffee’ guy settled at the small bar along the window, joining the usual morning stragglers—people who took their time with their warm mugs, occasionally ordering a bagel or a scone to go with it. He sat next to your crossword regular, an older gentleman who always had a puzzle in front of him, filling in the blanks with unwavering confidence. Always pen, never pencil.

You left them to it, but your eyes drifted toward ‘Just Coffee’ now and then, making sure his mug wasn’t too low, wasn’t getting too cold.

The morning flew by in a blur of orders and chatter, the shop filling and emptying in waves. By the time you checked back on ‘Just Coffee’ guy, he was gone.

A pang of disappointment sat low in your stomach. You wished you would’ve gotten him talking—he had that air about him, the kind of presence that carried stories. The people who sat at your bar top, the ones who weren’t rushing in and out for their nine-to-five caffeine fix, were always the most interesting.

You were surprised to see him the next day. A smile lifted at his lips as he stepped up in line, cash at the ready in his large, dirt-greased hands. A man who worked manual labor, clearly.

"Coffee," he said, his twang deep and velvety. "Just coffee, miss."

"You got it," you said with a smile, handing him a warm mug of your house roast as he took his new usual seat at the bar.

"Dammit—" the man next to him muttered, scratching his chin with the tip of his pen. Steve, your crossword regular. Under his nose, the day’s puzzle sat partially filled in, his brow furrowed in frustration. “What in the hell is the ‘process of leveling or smoothing wet concrete’? Seven letters?" He called your name, exasperated. "You got any idea?”

"Steve, if I knew anything about construction, I’d be way further along on my home improvement projects," you called over the hiss of the milk frother.

"Screedin’ is the word you’re lookin’ for, I think."

‘Just Coffee’ spoke casually, like it was second nature, his voice rolling low behind the lip of his mug. Steve blinked at him, like he hadn’t even realized the man was there, his wide eyes darting between him and the crossword.

"I think that might just work! How do ya spell that now? S-C-R-E—"

"S-C-R-E-E-D-I-N-G," ‘Just Coffee’ said slowly, the drawl thick and steady as the letters tumbled off his tongue.

You smiled to yourself, glancing his way. Knew he had to be manual labor. But before you could turn and ask him about it, he was already stepping off the stool, giving a quick nod of thanks, and heading for the door.

A couple of ones landed next to his empty mug—more than the cost of his coffee.

He didn’t come the next day.

Or the day after that.

By the fourth morning, you caught yourself lingering by the bar, staring at the empty stool where he sat. The coffee shop was just as busy, orders coming in waves, regulars dropping their change into the tip jar, Steve grumbling over his crossword. But something was missing.

You’d gotten used to those hazel eyes meeting yours across the counter, the quiet weight of his presence. The way his dark, unruly hair framed his face, always a little windswept, a little messy, like he’d rolled straight out of bed and into a long shift. His hands—rough, calloused, dirt still lingering in the creases—wrapped steady around a warm coffee mug.

It had only been a handful of mornings, but somehow, he’d settled into your routine like he belonged there.

And now, the absence of him gnawed at you in a way that surprised you.

You should’ve asked him his damn name.

By the sixth day, you convinced yourself it didn’t matter. He was just another customer, just a passing figure who needed a caffeine fix before moving on. Maybe he found a different coffee spot. Maybe he’d never been the type to stick around anyway.

But on the seventh morning, as you wiped down the counter, movement by the door caught your eye.

You turned, heart kicking up against your ribs.

There he was.

Another worn flannel, same dirt-streaked hands, same heavy-lidded gaze scanning the shop like he hadn’t been gone for a week. And when those hazel eyes finally landed on you, a flicker of something warm and familiar crossed his face.

You pushed off the counter before you could stop yourself.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” you said, trying to sound casual, but you knew he could hear the lilt of amusement in your voice.

“How are ya, miss?” he drawled, stepping up to the counter, cash already in hand. “Been busy.”

You nodded, trying not to stare too long at the way his fingers curled around the worn bills. “Let me guess—coffee, just coffee?”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “You got it.”

As you poured, you finally asked the question that had been itching at you since the first day he walked in.

“You got a name, or am I just supposed to keep callin’ you ‘Just Coffee’ forever?”

He smirked, tilting his head slightly as he watched you.

“Joel,” he said.

You smiled, setting his mug down in front of him. “Well, Joel—hope you don’t disappear on me again.”

His fingers brushed the warm ceramic as he settled onto his usual stool. “Jobs come and go, just depends on the day, hunny.”

Hunny. It was damn near like honey dripping from his tongue in that slow drawl, thick and warm. The way it rolled off his lips curled low in your belly, heating your cheeks as you turned to the next customer, hoping to God he didn’t notice.

The middle of the week was always slow, which worked in your favor today. By the time the morning rush faded, you found yourself wiping down the counters, clearing dishes near the bar, and finally getting the chance to ask Joel about his life.

You rinsed out a mug, letting the warm water run over your fingers as you glanced toward him. He was nursing his coffee slow, one hand wrapped around the mug, the other resting loose on the bar. His posture was easy, relaxed, but you could tell there was something there, something deep in his bones that he carried.

"So, what kinda jobs come and go?" you asked, keeping your tone light.

Joel glanced up from his mug, considering you for a moment. “Construction, mostly," he said, rolling his shoulders like the very word made them ache. "Been a contractor for years—fixin' up places, layin’ concrete, buildin’ what needs buildin'.”

Figures. Those arms—strong, steady—the kind that looked like they knew the weight of real work. His hands were large, rough and calloused, the kind you’d feel long after they touched you. But, Joel was a customer. You weren’t thinking that, of course not.

"Guess that explains why you knew the crossword answer last week," you teased, tossing the rag over your shoulder. "Steve still talks about it like you pulled magic outta thin air."

Joel huffed, shaking his head. "Man’s usin’ a pen for a crossword, and I’m the one impressin’ him?"

You grinned, leaning against the bar. "Hey, knowledge is power around here, Joel."

He let out a quiet hmm and took another sip of his coffee.

Before you could press further, the bell above the door jingled, and you got up hastily to take the newcomer’s order.

“Don’t worry about him,” Joel called over, sitting up straighter, setting down his coffee mug as his gaze flicked toward the man.

He stepped inside, his dark hair long, face clean-shaven, dimples deepening as he took in the scene. Something unspoken passed between the two of them—something that made it hard to tell if they were coworkers, friends, or something else entirely.

Then the man clapped Joel on the shoulder, grinning wide, “So this is what you’ve been ditchin’ the mornin’ crew for, huh, big brother?”

Your brows lifted. Brother.

Joel exhaled hard through his nose, eyes narrowing with obvious irritation, but his posture remained loose—like he was used to this, used to him.

“What ya got for me, Tommy?” he asked.

You barely had a second to process before Tommy’s attention shifted to you. His gaze swept over you, warm and playful, before he leaned a little too comfortably against the bar, ignoring his brother.

“Well now,” he drawled, flashing you a grin that could probably talk its way out of a speeding ticket, “if I knew this was the kinda place Joel was sneakin’ off to, I would’ve tagged along a whole lot sooner.”

Joel muttered something under his breath and rubbed his forehead.

You crossed your arms, biting back a smile. “And here I thought he just liked my coffee.”

Tommy let out a low chuckle, tilting his head. “Can’t say I blame him, darlin’.”

Joel let out a long, long sigh, already done with whatever this was turning into. He stood, tugging his jacket over his broad shoulders before clapping a firm hand on Tommy’s back—firm like a warning.

“C’mon,” Joel muttered, steering him toward the door.

Tommy let himself be dragged, but not without a final wink in your direction. “I’ll be seein’ you around, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past your lips as Joel shoved him out the door with far more force than necessary, the bell jingling wildly as they disappeared outside.

Joel glanced back once, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe the last two minutes of his life before heading off into the distance.

You just smiled, shrugging as you wiped down the counter.

But things changed after that morning.

Tommy only needed to step through the damn door before Joel was tensing at the bar, a muscle twitching in his jaw, his coffee suddenly the least interesting thing in the room. He continued to show up every morning, still ordered just coffee, still sat in his usual spot—but now, his eyes lingered on you more.

And now, he stayed just a little longer.

Not by much, not enough for anyone else to notice, but you did.

You noticed how his gaze flicked toward you between sips, how his fingers tapped idly against his mug whenever you laughed at something a customer said.

His brother joined him more too. You noticed the way he cut Tommy off real quick anytime his brother got a little too comfortable leaning against the counter, that exasperated “Tommy” carrying a warning underneath it.

And you noticed how his tips got just a little bigger after that morning, a couple extra bills tucked under his mug like an unspoken thank you.

So when a week passed—no sign of Tommy this time, no interruptions, just Joel sitting at your bar—you wondered if today might be different.

And it was.

Because today, as you cleared a dish from the counter, Joel cleared his throat. Not the casual kind, not the I’m just readjusting in my seat kind.

The nervous kind.

You glanced up, brows lifting. “What’s eatin’ ya, Joel?”

Joel exhaled sharply, shifting in his seat. “Yeah. Just—uh.” He scratched at the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes. “You, uh… ever eat anywhere that ain’t this place?”

Your lips twitched. “You askin’ if I leave my own coffee shop, Joel?”

His jaw tightened, clearly close to regretting whatever he was doing, but he powered through.

“I’m askin’ if you’d wanna get somethin’ to eat. When your shift is done.” He finally met your gaze, voice a little gruffer than usual, but there was something hesitant in his expression—like he was braced for you to shut him down, “With me.”

You leaned back against the counter, arms crossing as you took your time, letting him sit in it for a second. Watching the way his fingers curled around his coffee mug, how he resisted the urge to shift under your gaze.

Then you smiled. “Are you asking me out?”

His eyes flicked away, like he really hated how direct you were, but you could see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Yeah,” he muttered. Then, after a pause—“That…a problem?”

You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Not at all.”

Joel’s fingers flexed against his mug. “Good.”

You grabbed a napkin and a pen, scribbling something before sliding it across the counter. “Then you’re gonna need my number.”

He eyed it, then you, something unreadable in his gaze before he finally, finally reached for it. His fingers brushed yours as he folded the napkin, tucking it into his pocket without another word.But you swore—swore—you saw the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he took another slow sip of his coffee.

Part II is here :)

[stinkysam]

Choi Subong “Thanos” - Golden child.

Warning : this is not an x reader cuz they’re brothers. Drugs, death, violence, lots of scenes retranscriptions, really long (11k3 words)

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “You’re Thanos’ little brother and you decide to join the games to help him pay his debts.” - anon

Reader : male (you/yours)

A/N : bold is in English

You were the second and last child, the favorite. The one that succeeded in everything he tried and never brought troubles home.

Unlike Subong who had bullied some of his classmates before leaving school at a young age to focus on his rap career, had some moderate success and then failed, you were still in school, mixing studies and work in a tight schedule.

That didn’t stop your dad from giving you a hard time at certain moments, though it was your older brother who took most of it during your childhood. 

When Subong left the house, your father badmouthed him for it, saying he didn’t care about the family or taking care of your parents, but when you did you almost got praised.

“Ah, my successful son.” You received a pat on the head, a bit too strongly for your liking.

Your mother on the other hand had congratulated you the same way she did with your brother. Buying and cooking you food for your own place to fill the fridge.

You knew she worried about him, and you did too.

Despite these differences as you grew up, Subong always saw you as his baby brother that he needed to take care of.

In his own way though. 

But you felt more like it was the opposite since the day you began to understand how your family worked. You didn’t mind though, you loved him and his antics, actively hanging out with him once school was over, from elementary school till you got into university. 

You didn’t care if you had to solve his problems, you knew he’d do the same thing if you got into trouble. Which you tried to hide a lot of times because you knew he would beat up anyone bothering you. And you didn’t want him to go to jail because of you.

So when a weird man approached you on a Sunday at 10am for a game of ddakji with money for the winner, you wondered if he was some kind of gambler trying to get his fix.

You weren’t particularly looking for money, but 100 000 per victory was still appetizing and you thought about your brother.

He sometimes asked you for money and even though it was always small amounts he never refused when you gave him extra cash. He never told you he had debts yet you easily guessed it despite not knowing how much he owed exactly.

You accepted to play. You could give what you earned in that small game to give it to him.

Rubbing your stinging cheek you took the money the man gave you, counting it before folding it and pushing it in your pocket.

He handed you a small card, telling you you could win more by playing a few more games.

It smelled fishy but you still took it, wondering how much you could make and if it’ll be enough to help your brother.

As you walked away, you immediately called him.

“Rise and shine ! I got something for you.” You said a sing-song tone as soon as he picked up after the third try.

“Huh ?” His voice was rough, you knew you had woken him up, it made you laugh.

“400 000 won. What do you say ?”

“Huh ?” He repeated. “Mh, I don’t need money…” He said uncharacteristically quiet, you scoffed.

“Yeah, right. You’re at your place I suppose ?”

“…Yeah.”

“Coming.” And with that you hung up.

-

You woke up at the same time as everyone, quickly emerging, looking around and at all the people surrounding you.

From above, you spotted on the ground someone with purple hair walking around amongst the others. You tried to get a better look when suddenly a big door of the lobby opened, pink masked men coming in with guns.

A man with a square on his mask welcomed you all, explaining what you were going to do for the next following days. Then questions came. Why the kidnapping ? The masks ? Why all those secrets ?

As the square responded, talking about security of the staff, a girl commented on her clothes, finding them ugly, preferring to wear the pink suit the armed guys were wearing.

That’s when the man with purple hair you saw earlier spoke, talking about his limited edition shoes. You recognized the voice instantly.

“Subong ?” You said to yourself, not believing your ears and eyes.

Another man intervened, asking about his phone, needing to monitor the crypto market at all times.

You supposed the square no longer had patience, showing and giving the names of everyone that had asked questions. Your brother appeared on the screen above the pink man. There were no doubts anymore. He’s here.

Fuck.

The square continued talking, speaking about second chances while the screen continued to display everyone in the room playing ddakji. You weren’t listening, hurrying out of bed and climbing down to find your brother.

You quickly stopped though as the lights dimmed down and a giant piggy made of glass came down from the ceiling.

“How much is the prize money ?” A curly haired man asked.

“The prize money for the games is 45.6 billion won in total.” The square replied as you almost fell from the ladder in shock. 

Regaining your composure, you slowly began searching for your brother again as more questions and answers were given, and apparently you weren’t the only one searching for someone. Just as some old woman found that curly haired man, you saw Thanos’ purple hair.

“Bro ! Subong !” You whispers yelled, making your way toward him.

Subong’s head shot up, looking around for whoever had called him. His eyes widened when he saw you approaching. What ?!

“What the fuck are you doing here ?” He asked a bit too bluntly, making you grimace at him.

“I came here to get you money. You’re not supposed to be here as well.” You sighed, putting your hands in your pockets. “If I knew you’d be here too, I wouldn’t have called them.”

“You should’ve told me, man ! No secrets between us, remember ?”

“Like your big debts you hide from mom, dad and me ? Wasn’t it 1.19 billion ?”

“How do you know ?” He asked, genuinely surprised. He thought he had hidden it well. “Ah, they said it when they showed me. Did I look cool ?”

“No.” You said, too seriously, making him huff. “And no, I knew before that.”

“Huh ?”

“I’m smart, you’re dumb, remember ? I smelled your debts from kilometers away.” You said with a proud smile, dusting off your chest.

“Ah, that bastard.” He said under his breath, glaring at you. “Is that the way of treating your older brother ? Mh ?” He pushed your shoulder, making you smile.

“Sorry. But seriously, why didn’t you tell me you met that sketchy guy when I told you how I got the 400 000 won ?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d call them ?”

You stared at him and gave him a sigh.

“Alright. You got a point.” 

“No more secrets, okay ? You know everything anyway.” He said, showing you his pinky. “Promise ?”

You looked at his hand and groaned.

“You have my word but no pinky promises. It’s fucking cringe at your big age.”

He put one hand on his heart, acting hurt, his other one still waiting for yours.

“Do it.”

“No.”

“Come on ! Do it !” He loudly said, losing patience and attracting attention, making you give in.

“…Alright.” You sighed, one hand on your face in embarrassment as you locked pinkies with your other one, thumb touching his. “Promise.”

“Good.” He said, rubbing your hair quickly. Before hugging you. “Ah, I’m so happy you’re here. We’re gonna make so much money, my little guy !”

-

You gave each other a thumbs up as you signed the consent form to play the games and walked back behind the lines, waiting for everyone to be done.

That’s when a young man approached you two, 124 written on his sweatshirt. 

“Thanos. Do you remember me ?” He asked, a bit awkwardly.

“No.” Subong replied. You tried not to smile at his bluntness. “Who are you ?”

“I’m Namgyu, from club Pentagon, we met a few times, don’t you remember ?”

“No.” He said again, shaking his head after thinking quickly. “What do you want ?”

You barely listened to Namgyu’s answer, focusing on trying to find the highest number on people’s sweatshirts.

“Oh, there’s MG Coin.” Namgyu said, pointing to the front. Subong suddenly stood up, walking toward where 124 was showing. 

You saw them talk with another guy, 333 on his clothes, their discussion grew more heated and you grimaced as Subong grabbed him, about to punch the man, but Namgyu stopped him.

Your brother walked away only to go back toward 333, probably menacing him before sitting next to you once more.

“You lost money because of him ?” You asked, trying to understand what happened.

“500 million won. That fucking bastard.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. You said nothing though a hundred things rushed to your mind. Why the fuck would he spend that much on it ? Was it the money he won by rapping ? Does he even know how crypto works ? Why did he trust some random guy on the World Wide Web ? Was he… truly dumb ?

You sighed, massaging your forehead.

Soon, everyone had signed the consent form and the square told you to follow them for the first game.

You patted your brother’s back as you stood up.

As you formed a line, Subong behind you and Namgyu behind him, you tried to find where you were by looking for windows.

But there were none. Long corridors with unnatural lights, stairs in every direction, no views to the outside. You could still be in Korea or on some random island in the middle of the sea. Or maybe even underground in another country.

Your photo was taken and as you walked away you looked at your brother. Someone had recognized him, a fan, asking for a photo with him. Soon more people came asking for a photo, squeezing in the shot to be with him in the picture. You smiled, amused and laughed when the square said it was not allowed.

You walked away, still chuckling as your brother told him to get in the shot as well.

You continued going up and down the multiple stairs, seeing the other lines taking a different path than yours. You wondered if you’d all end up in the same place.

Suddenly Subong pushed you, rushing past the people in front of you. You wondered what was going on until you saw the lady who spoke about how ugly the green tracksuit is.

“Ah, who does he think he is ? Casanova or some shit ?” You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose.

Next time you saw him, it was on a big empty field, with what seemed like all the other persons from the lobby. You wanted to approach him but as soon as you heard him talk to that girl you walked away.

“Fuck. So cringe.” You huffed, slapping lightly your face to recover from that sight. Sadly you weren’t far enough as you heard him rap for her. You tried not to laugh, your eyes watering in embarrassment. “Surely he’s adopted.”

The doors closed as they announced the name of the first game, Green light, red light. Seems easy. You liked playing that game with your brother as you were a kid, though he always added new rules so you’d lose.

Then a man rushed to the front, 456, the highest number you’ve seen on someone. He yelled for everyone to listen to him, that losing meant dying. 

No one seemed to believe him, even arguing back and saying it was ridiculous.

So 456 continued, saying the doll had motion detectors in her eyes. You knew this whole situation was weird, but didn’t expect the other people here to be weird as well.

But still no one believed him. Even as the first few rounds started, everyone was moving and freezing in time as he stayed still, yelling to stay relaxed.

It was going so well until that girl your brother was flirting with moved, scared of the bee on her neck.

“Crap, I just moved.” She said, before getting shot in the head and falling to the ground. Your breath was caught in your throat as you almost jumped at the sound of a gunshot. Your brother was frozen, though you couldn’t see his face, you knew it was covered in her blood.

“Fuck- what the fuck ?” You whispered, staring at her body while yours began to shake.

“Nobody moves !” 456 screamed. Could he just shut up ? “You must not move !”

“Player 196 eliminated.”

Then a woman looked at 196 before screaming in horror and getting shot as well. More people moved in shock, screaming, rushing to the back, pushing people which made them move as well.

Through all the noise, you could barely hear 456 screaming, but you knew he was still telling you to stay frozen, to not move and wait or you’ll die.

“Let me repeat. You can move forward while the tagger shouts ‘Green light, red light’. If your movements are detected afterwards, you will be eliminated.”

No one dared to move when the doll turned and sang again, too afraid to die. As she did it once more, you saw your brother move, quickly getting something from around his neck.

“You will also die if you don’t make it there in time !” 456 yelled, urging you to move as soon as you could. “That doll is a motion detector ! But it can’t detect motion that’s not visible to it ! Go behind someone bigger than you, like you’re doing Follow the Leader !”

2 minutes 19 were remaining, and you were close to the middle of the field. Time is short but if you hurry up you could make it.

Everyone moved when the doll turned around, already forming lines as they hid behind each other. But her song got faster and faster, never leaving you enough time to properly run.

That’s when you saw your brother push three people before him, sending them to their deaths. Fuuuck. He had his fucking pills with him and took one of them.

He was also the first one to move again as the doll faced the wall, skipping, jumping, heel kicking.

You tried calling for him, telling him to hide behind someone. He was in plain sight, easily seen by the killer doll. But he was too out of it, the only one in the field taking pleasure playing.

Only a few meters remained, Subong crossed before you, dancing in joy as you finally reached the finish line too, out of breath. You were ready to let yourself fall to the ground to rest when he grabbed you, making you celebrate with him, but you just pulled away, throwing up. You had seen enough blood and deaths for a lifetime.

Everyone looked up when the sky closed. Pink guards coming in to bring you back to the lobby. Not a word was uttered on the way.

Subong tried to get you to talk, but you ignored him. You felt like if you spoke you’d cry or throw up again.

You all sat as one united group in the lobby, still silent.

You brother was sniffing and fidgeting. Namgyu asked him if he was alright.

“Don’t worry.” Subong replied.

“What ?”

“I’m okay.”

You were shaking, anxiously swaying when the lights were turned on, the square and a few triangles entering the lobby. Everyone moved away, trying to hide behind the beds to not get shot. Subong barely moved while you hid behind him and Namgyu.

The square congratulated you for making it through the first game, and announced how many people were remaining.

Scared, the old woman you previously saw with the curly haired man moved forward, begging to spare hers and her son’s life, promising she’ll find a way to repay her son’s debts. People followed, begging on their knees as well. You were still watching from behind Thanos.

“We are not trying to harm you. We are presenting you with an opportunity.” Said the square.

“Close three of the consent form !” A man yelled as everyone went silent, looking at him. “‘The games may be terminated upon a majority vote.’” It was 456. “Correct ?”

“That is correct.”

“Then let us take a vote right now.”

The square agreed, talking about respecting the right of freedom of choice. Everyone signed in relief, and you did too, relaxing slightly.

“But first, let me announce the prize amount that’s been accumulated.” He added, before clicking on a remote, and the glass piggy appeared again. Before you could wonder what was happening, money fell into it in large quantities, gaining everyone’s interest, slowly coming out of their hiding spot. 

Subong and Namgyu moved, getting closer from the center to get a better view as you remained on the floor, too stunned to move.

“The number of players eliminated in the first game is 91. Therefore, a total of 9.1 billion won has been accumulated.” The square announced. “If you quit the games now, the 365 of you can equally divide the 9.1 billion won and leave with your share.”

“How much is that ?” Someone asked.

“Each person’s share would be 24,931,500 won.”

Which meant 49,863,000 with you and your brother.

“Twenty million ? You said 45.6 billion !” Yelled Subong.

“The rule is that a hundred million won will be accumulated for each eliminated player. If you choose to play the next game and more players get eliminated, the prize amount will increase accordingly.” The square replied.

Your mind was racing, barely listening as more questions were asked. The square’s answers seemed to please everyone as they all began to whisper among themselves.

If you and Subong survive, it’ll be 45.5 billion won in total, so 22.75 billion each. Fuck. Could you stand more games ? There was this guy, Namgyu, that could help but could you really trust him ?

“Now, let’s begin the vote.” Said the square as some circles entered to place a machine with two buttons before him, an O and X lighting up on the floor. “If you wish to continue the games, press the O button. If you wish to end them, press the X button.”

456 voted first, not even hesitating as he chose X before walking to the X side of the lobby.

454 chose O and did the same, standing on the other side of the room.

Slowly, 54 people had voted. There was no real big majority, though it seemed like more people voted X. Then the Os were winning, 92 people against 87. Your brother rushed to the machine, pushing the O button without hesitation. 93.

You sighed.

Fuck. You’d have to vote O too.

456 suddenly intervened, telling people to come to their senses. Why did so many want to keep playing after knowing how the games were ?

100 argued back, asking who he was and why he kept egging everyone on.

“You scared us by saying they’d shoot us before the game even began !”

254 spoke too, saying she almost died because 456 made her so nervous.

That’s when 226 asked the real question. How did 455 know they were going to shoot those who moved ? Was he one of them ?

456 stayed silent as they continued to argue back, chaos erupting as both sides yelled at each other.

“I have played these games before !” 456 finally yelled, shutting up everyone. “I have done this before ! I knew about the first game because I had played it before ! I played the games here three years ago. And everyone who was with me… died here !”

This stunned everyone. But not for long. He already came here ? How did he survive alone ? Was he the only winner ?

“I was the final winner.” He added, quietly. “If we continue the games, every single person here, just like all the people back then, will die in the end.”

100 scoffed, not believing him. What was he doing here if he already won 45.6 billion won ?

More people voiced their disbelief as you saw your brother approach 456 confidently.

“If you really won, it actually works better for us.” He pointed at him. “You can give us some tips on how to beat these games.”

“That’s right ! We have a previous winner with us, so what do we have to worry about ?” 100 added. “Come on, let’s do this !”

“Come on !” Your brother yelled, as other Os agreed, encouraging the others to vote O as well.

You saw 456 walk toward those who hadn’t voted yet, begging them to vote X to stop the deaths. As he was talking a triangle had approached him, planting his gun on his back.

“From here on, we will not tolerate actions that disrupt the voting process.” Said the square. “Now let’s resume the vote. Player 228.”

And so the vote continued. Slowly the X returned the situation, voting in mass while you stood next to your brother with an O on your chest. You heard him sigh, annoyed with how this was going.

331 people had voted, the Xs were winning. Then the Os, then the Xs again and so on.

As only a couple persons were left, each side cheered when a vote their way was made.

“Player 001.” Called the square.

“Everyone, say O !” Your brother yelled, raising his fist in the air and quickly each side did the same thing. Yelling what to vote. 001 could change everything, getting you out or keeping you in. His vote was crucial.

Silence fell as he stood in front of the buttons, visibly hesitating before choosing O. 

Everyone cheered, Thanos was jumping in joy, his hand on your shoulder to reach higher before bumping his chest against Namgyu’s.

After the vote and when everyone had calmed down, the pink men came back, putting you all in lines to give you food. Fried egg and rice with a bottle of water.

You were eating calmly with your brother and Namgyu. They talked first about the prize money and slowly the discussion drifted toward the YouTuber that had scammed them. If they get his money as well, it would make a really great sum.

Namgyu left first, rubbing his hands, Thanos followed quickly, leaving you his rice to finish. Though you didn’t feel too hungry after what happened, you still took it, watching where they were going.

Toward the YouTuber, obviously.

It didn’t take long for them to throw hands, 333 throwing himself on your brother, both landing on the floor as Namgyu tried to help.

Subong got back up and began punching the poor man.

“Son of a bitch.” He cursed, 333 was on the floor as he began to kick him. “I lost all the money because of you, fucker. You piece of shit.” 

Fuck. You quickly finished your rice and stood up, wanting to stop him before he could beat him up too much.

“Boys, what are you doing in the middle of mealtime ?” 001 intervened, slowly making his way toward Subong, Namgyu and 333. “No fights during mealtime. There are elders present. Mind your manners. And two against one… aren’t you embarrassed ?” 

Your brother stopped, looking at him before approaching him, confidently closing the distance.

“You’re lecturing me when you ended up in this shithole too ? Dude, stop running your mouth and take care of your own damn kids.”

“What did you say ?”

“I said save the lecture for your own damn kids.”

Then 001 grabbed him by the throat, making you jump and hurry toward them with Namgyu. The man kicked you two without breaking a sweat, sending you to the floor before letting go of your brother.

Knowing him, he was seeing himself as the strongest here, so he wasn’t going to back down from this fight. As he approached 001, he got punched in the stomach, bending down in pain and trying to catch his breath.

“Wait-” He said, trying to put a hand on the man who grabbed his arm which cracked loudly, and sent him on the floor before kicking his face and shoulder, making him lay on his back.

001 was above him, strangling him and ready to punch him again as you stood up with difficulty, limping toward them.

“I’m sorry.” Subong said, struggling to speak.

“Please let go of him, we’re sorry !” You said, bowing completely, desperately trying to help your brother not get killed here. You could not take that man in a fight. “Please, sir !”

“Please… let me go…” Subong’s face was red, voice strained, hands by 001’s wrist.

Slowly, 001 pulled away as your brother coughed, finally getting some air. You rushed to his side, helping him up.

People were clapping, applauding the man for stopping the fight. He nodded slightly before walking back to the group he was with.

You sat with Subong in a corner, Namgyu joining you rapidly, limping as well. You stayed together till it was time to go to bed.

But despite his loss, your brother still looked confident, he was not going to be put down so easily. If he wasn’t the strongest, he was the second strongest. You sighed, exasperated and placed your hand on his head. If you could just give him some of your brain cells… Just a bit…

“What ? What is it ?” He asked, looking at you.

“No, nothing. Keep yapping, I’m going to bed.”

“I’m not yapping. Hey ! Come back here !” He sighed as you ignored him, climbing to your bed. “That asshole…”

-

You woke up to the sound of classical music, and soon a voice in the speakers spoke, announcing the start of the second game as armed pink men came in. You began to climb down, and as you reached the floor you looked at your wrist. Your watch was gone.

“What time is it ?” You asked.

“Too early.” Your brother responded still on his bed, opening his cross and taking a yellow pill.

“My god.” You said, watching him annoyed. You knew you couldn’t stop him even if you tried. “It’s always too early for you.” You added, before walking away.

He just tsked, swallowing the pill. 

From above, Namgyu knocked on the bed frame, gaining his attention, asking what he was taking.

“You don’t need to know. It’s time to play the game.” Subong replied, standing up and following you.

You arrived in a big room, two giant colored circles on the ground. They looked like rainbows. Purple, blue, green, yellow, orange and red.

The voice told you to divide into teams of 6 by the end of the 10 minutes. Quickly people began to look for partners.

Your brother wrapped an arm around you and patted Namgyu’s back.

“Three !” He announced proudly.

“Yeah, three missing.” You added.

“[Name] ! Namsu !”

“Namgyu.” Namgyu corrected.

“Excuse me, can I team up with you ?” A voice spoke from behind. As you turned around you recognized the man. He was the fanboy who wanted a photo with Thanos yesterday.

You nodded, eager to find the missing team members.

“Of course !” Your brother added, hitting the man’s shoulder.

“Thank you so much !” The fanboy quickly bowed.

“What’s your name ?” Namgyu asked.

“Gyeongsu.”

“[Name].” You said, pointing to yourself, then pointed to Namgyu. “Namgyu.” And then to your brother. “Him.”

“‘Him ?’ I’m fucking Thanos the great ! The legend !” 

“Yeah, yeah, we’re aware.” You said, nodding, making him glare at you. You could be really annoying sometimes.

“So… 2 more people, right ?” Namgyu pointed out, looking around for two more people.

That’s when Subong left without a warning, making the team follow him. Something had caught his eyes.

A girl.

Obviously. 

“Not again…” You whispered. “One of us really must be adopted.”

“Señorita, excuse me ?”

“Oh my god.” You hid behind Gyeongsu, too ashamed of your brother.

The girl turned around, staring.

“Let’s play the game together.” Thanos said, crossing his arms with a smirk.

The woman looked at all of you before answering, unsure.

“Well, why should I ?”

“Don’t you know who he is ?” Gyeongsu asked. “He’s Thanos, the rapper.” As he said that your brother posed, you just wanted to walk away and find another team. “I’m gonna kill half of humanity with my raps.” Gyeongsu rapped, imitating him.

You felt sick. Why were you with them ?

“Hang on, a girl ? We don’t know what the game is.” Namgyu finally said as she tried not to laugh.

“I, Thanos the great, will protect you.” Your brother said, ignoring him.

“Right, Thanos...” The girl said, looking away, seemingly thinking. “So you have all the Infinity Stones ?”

“Of course.” He showed his nails proudly. “I’m gonna destroy anyone who gets in my way !” And took a step closer. “Just stick with me, and you’ll be safe. Okay ?”

“But I already asked someone to join me.”

“No problem.” He replied, rolling his R. “Who is it ?”

The woman looked at all of you before taking a step to the side, showing a smaller man. 125 written on his sweatshirt. He had voted X.

Namgyu sighed as you poked your head from behind Gyeongsu to look at him.

“What’s your name ?” Thanos asked.

“…It’s Minsu.” 125 replied.

“He looks like a freaking dork.” Namgyu argued but Subong ignored him.

“What’s up ? Nice to meet you, my brother.” He said, walking closer to him. “Welcome to the Thanos world.” He grabbed his hand and wrapped an arm around him. Continuing as he pulled away. “You’re cute. Come on.”

You looked at the timer, 1 minute 58 seconds remaining. You sighed, glad you found everyone you needed under the time limit. You used it to present yourselves to Minsu.

When the time was over, everyone sat by groups in the colored circles. Namgyu stared at Minsu while your brother swayed side to side, fidgeting excitedly.

The voice over the PA system announced the rules of the game. Presenting each mini game.

“Number one, ddakji. Number two, flying stone. Number three, gonggi. Number four, spinning top. Number five, jegi. Number six, cham cham cham. Your goal is to win all the mini-games and cross the finish line in 6 minutes.

“You guys pick.” Your brother said, not caring at all about what he’ll have to do. You elbowed him and he just looked at you, confused.

The first two teams were ready to start, everyone anxiously staring at them while continuing to pick what mini-game they could do.

“Let the game begin.” The voice said.

“Let’s get it ! Whooo !” Your brother yelled, hyped for it. 

The square shot in the air, and the timer began to run.

Everyone watched the two teams play, failing certain mini games repeatedly. And eventually, the 12 of them got shot. Making most of you jump.

Fuck. Could you really make it ?

Namgyu quickly turned to your brother who was in his own world, wiggling and shaking his head. You were breathing heavily, lost in your thoughts.

“I don’t know what the fuck are you talking about.” Subong said a bit loudly, bringing you back to earth.

“If I get nervous and lose the game, we’ll all die. My hands are shaking like crazy.” Namgyu said, showing his hands. He was shaking more than you.

“Namsu.” Your brother started, only to be cut off.

“It’s Namgyu.”

“Right, Namgyu.” He took his cross in his hand. “Do you know what that is ?”

“Ecstasy ? Ketamine ?” Namgyu whispered.

“It’s a new kind. It’s fucking crazy, man. You can’t handle it.”

“Hey.” Namgyu rolled his sleeve, showing a scar on his left arm. “I did all kinds of stuff when I was working at the club. I even bought you some when you came to the club.”

Subong looked around, and opened his cross discreetly, giving him one pill.

“You junkie.” 

Namgyu quickly took it, chewing it before swallowing. You simply hoped they wouldn't get too high and fail the games. Praying to any gods to help you.

“What ?” Namgyu asked Minsu who was staring at him, Subong back in his imaginary world.

“Uh, nothing.” Minsu replied awkwardly.

“What’s your name again ?”

“It’s Minsu.”

“Minsu, what’s the famous quote by Admiral Yi Sun Sin ?”

But Minsu didn’t answer. Confused by the question at a time like this.

“‘Those seeking life shall croak. Those seeking death shall live’. So don’t be scared. Just tell yourself that you don’t care if you die. Then we’ll survive, win the money, and get the fuck out.”

“Hey, mind your own business.” Finally said Semi. Gyeongsu looking at the two.

“Me ?” Namgyu asked.

“Yes, you. Mr. Shaky Hands.”

“What’s with the attitude ? We shouldn’t have picked a girl. She’s got an attitude.”

“You’re a prick. You had to pop a pill for your nerves.”

“Fucking bitch.”

“Ah, calm down you two.” You finally said, trying to lower the growing tension among the group. 

Then the doors opened. By instinct you leaned to the side to hide behind your brother who put a hand on your knee.

“Don’t worry. I got you.” He said, confidently, trying to reassure you. But with so many guns in the room, it didn’t work.

You watched in silence as the circles got in with big boxes, putting the dead inside. A triangle approached one of them, requested to open it before shooting the person inside twice.

You leaned even closer to your brother, jumping at the gunshots, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

“It’ll be our turn soon.” Subong said.

“Shut up.” You whispered. Your forehead against his back. You really wanted to go home.

Then it was the turn to two other groups. Nervously walking toward each mini game, as everyone looked anxiously at them. You all cheered each time the team of the old woman aced a game, tension growing. They had time, they could make it, right ?

Slowly people stood up to cheer for her team, encouraging them, only staying silent to let them play and focus.

You gasped when 120 slapped 044, staring shocked. But everyone cheered again as she succeeded, counting with them the steps to the next game then turning silent.

120 asked everyone to look away, so you all showed her your back, counting the number of kicks. Then cheering.

“One, two ! One, two ! One, two !” You screamed with the team, taking one step after the other toward the finish line. In the end both teams succeeded which shifted the whole mood.

Each passing team was encouraged, the tension was still here but the weight of death wasn’t as heavy as before.

As you were on the starting line and the guards tied your feet together, you tried to ignore them and relax. No timer, no guns, it was just you and your team having fun. You breathed deeply, wrapping your arm around your brother’s shoulders who was completely hyped for it. You tried to imitate him, confidence could get you far after all.

Gyeongsu was first with ddakji, rapidly succeeding after a few failed attempts. Then it was 380’s turn with flying stones. Namgyu was so nervous his knees kept violently shaking, even when cheering. You wondered if he was gonna piss himself.

Minsu’s turn was up with gonggi, while Subong was just vibing while Namgyu was making noises each time the plastic stones were in the air. You swore to kill him if he made Minsu fail a second time.

Then it was his turn, knees still shaking for the spinning top. And he failed twice. 380 got so close to punching him, grabbing him by his sweatshirt and cursing at him. Subong was dancing, throwing his arms in the air a little too close to Namgyu who had to push him away slightly before trying once more, finally succeeding.

It was now your brother’s turn with jegi, which he easily won, kicking 5 times the fluffy ball.

Came your turn. You stared at the circle, facing him, ready for cham cham cham. Your heart was pounding. You tried to go fast, not much time remaining.

Subong was patting your back, either encouraging you or simply vibing to the music in his head.

You didn’t let the losses shake you, breathing loudly, shaking but rapidly starting over until you succeeded, then the circle looked in the same direction you pointed 5 times. You had won.

You cheered, throwing your hands in the air, and you understood why Namgyu’s knees were shaking like that.

Then the team quickly moved forward, crossing the finish line in time and celebrating your victory.

You were fucking alive ! It was hysterical.

You continued shaking, adrenaline rushing through your blood as they unchained your feet, letting you go back to the lobby group by group.

“I told you we’d win !” Subong said, hand squeezing the back of your neck.

You then waited by your brother’s bed for the rest of the groups to come back.

You exhaled slowly, trying to calm yourself, but your brother kept talking about the games, making you relive the emotions.

“I know, I know, I was there, will you stop it ?” You replied, voice shaky with excitement.

“Why ? We did it !” He laughed. “ And a lot of people are gonna die in groups of 6, so we’re gonna get tons of money !” He added with a confident smile.

“Ah, why did you have to remind me that people die ! Seriously !” You groaned, throwing your head back and climbing on the above bed so he wouldn’t talk to you anymore.

More time passed, and more people came back.

Namgyu sighed, upset that so many “animals” had survived. He turned to Minsu, asking him how many he thought remained.

“Sorry ?” Minsu asked.

“How many roaches do you think we have left in here ?”

Minsu looked around, thinking before answering.

“About 200.”

“200 ?” You said quietly, no longer listening. That’s a lot. Why was there only one survivor in the previous games ? Were the games harder ? Or are they gonna become harder now ?

Shortly after, 6 more people came in, 455’s team. And soon, the square with his triangles entered the lobby, congratulating you all for making it through the second game.

You all looked up at the glass piggy as money continued stacking up inside. And as it accumulated, the square announced the number of people who were eliminated, the amount of people remaining and prize money total and the one to share if the majority decided to leave.

Ah, still not enough for your brother’s debts…

You were not the only one disappointed. It was still nowhere near 100 million won. People argued back, insinuating that the pink men counted the dead wrongly, asking to do it again.

“I completely understand your disappointment.” The square replied. “However we always keep the door open for you to pursue new opportunities. You will now take a vote to decide whether to continue the games or not.”

As he said that, the door opened again, the voting machine being pushed in and placed before him.

You thought it was smart of them, making people want to continue by showing how little they earned right before the vote. You wondered if the result was gonna be as tight as the first one.

It started by 001, changing his previous vote to X. You were a bit taken aback, he is the strongest in a fight and is in the team with the previous winner. What is he scared of ?

As the vote continued, your brother patted your back.

“You’re gonna vote O, right lil guy ?” He asked, looking at the numbers growing on each side.

“Of course, we’re gonna win these games.” You said puffing out your chest, smiling. Namgyu turned toward Minsu, telling him to not betray them.

“What ?” Minsu asked, confused.

“That.” Namgyu grabbed the X patch on Minsu’s chest. “We all agreed to play one more game, right ?”

“Yeah.” Minsu replied quietly. It’s clear he didn’t want to.

Once again there was no real big majority, each side always winning my one or two votes. Came your turn, O, then Namgyu and Minsu, both voting O as well.

You were winning by three votes, when suddenly 001 yelled to stop, and to come back to your senses.

Like the first vote, people argued back and forth about dying and having a second chance at life if they survive. And quickly all the Os with you and your brother were screaming “one more game” under the disappointed look of the Xs.

As time went on, an actual big majority happened, 23 votes separating the two sides. You were the winners.

The square announced the result of the vote, adding that the next game will happen tomorrow and the left.

Time went by and pink men came back to give you food, making you wait in line. You thanked them and walked away, following your brother and sitting next to him.

Everyone in the group gathered near, some more quiet than the others, not interested in participating in the discussion. You didn’t speak either.

The adrenaline had worn off and you just felt utterly tired and too hungry to be satisfied with what you got. Thanos noticed you chewing too much for the bites you took and knowing your eating habits, he gave you a third of his soboro bread to help fill your stomach.

You continued eating slowly, trying to trick your own body into thinking you were eating enough before the guards escorted everyone to the bathroom.

As you came out of the stall, your brother along with Namgyu and Gyeongsu were by the crypto YouTuber’s side. Probably annoying him. You approached, listening to their discussion which seemed a little bit too calm compared to their other altercations.

“You’re my slave until you pay me back.” You heard your brother say. “My slave.”

Ah, they’re still after him…

“So you have to keep playing the games until the end. And who knows ? You might win the entire prize alone.” Subong continued before beginning to rap. “Then I will get my money back, and you will get your happiness back.”

“If I win the prize money alone, that’d mean you’re dead.” Replied 333 as Subong thought about his words. “Why would I pay you back if you were dead ?”

True. You nodded slightly.

“How do you even remember your lyrics ?” 333 continued. “Oh, right. You forgot the lyrics in the show’s finale.”

Ouch.

“You son of a bitch. You have a death wish ?” Your brother grabbed him by the throat, pushing him near the entrance.

“Alright Subong, that’s enough.” You said, pulling him away from 333. You glared at Namgyu who was about to put a hand on your shoulder to stop you. You were not going to let him enable your brother.

Subong was about to go back toward the YouTuber when suddenly 390, 001 and 388 entered. 

He stared at them then at 333 before looking at you. You shook your head ‘no’ as you looked back at him and at 001. You weren’t sure 001 would be as kind as earlier and let him go again if he picked a fight with him.

“I’m watching you.” Subong finally said, pointing at 333 before walking away. You bowed your head slightly as you passed the three men, quietly apologizing for the trouble.

“If you kill him he’ll never pay what he owes you.” You said, walking next to him back to the lobby. He just hummed, still upset he couldn’t finish him.

“Next time it’s on sight though.” Added Namgyu.

“Didn’t you hear what I just said ?” You asked, turning to look at him. He simply rolled his eyes, ignoring you.

As you entered the lobby, a quiet music was playing, announcing that soon the lights will be off for nighttime.

You told your brother to calm down and sleep and he rubbed your hair.

“Good… night.” He said, posing.

“Ehh, so embarrassing.” You tsked walking away and climbing the ladder to your bed.

“[Name] ! Stop being a brat !” He yelled, pointing at you and you laughed, flipping him off.

Acting shocked by your gesture, he quickly grabbed the ladder and began to climb as well.

You hurried up, not wanting him to catch you, and hid under the sheet. That didn’t stop him from arriving at your level.

“Yo, lil bro.” He said, shaking you. “You really think you can tell me to fuck off ? Huh ?”

Your hand slid out from under the covers, flipping him off once again, more discreetly. He still saw it though, grabbing your hand and squeezing it shut tightly. It was starting to hurt.

“Alright, alright !” You quickly said as you came out from under the covers, trying to pull your hand away from his grip. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I won’t flip you off ever again !” You added, hissing.

He took your second hand, squeezing it as well, making you grimace though you were still smiling.

“Are you sure ?” He asked, leaning closer, your fingers cracking.

“Yesss. I promise. Pinky promise even. Ahhh, let go please !”

He let go of your hands, smiling before rubbing your hair once more.

“Good.” He showed you his right hand, wiggling his pinky. You sighed and groaned with a chuckle, accepting your fate as you made another pinky promise. “Flip me off once more…” He warned.

“And I eat dirt. I know. But if I do…” You wiggled your eyebrows, leaning closer. “I’ll tell mom.” You whispered.

“Ah ! You bastard !” Thanos hit your shoulder as you laughed. “Mom can’t always protect you.”

“Yeah but I’m the favorite, remember ?” You replied, posing cutely. “She’ll be so sad to hear you kicked me, your own poor little brother. The family’s little meow meow.” You pouted, making a sad face.

He sighed, a hand in his hair. 

“Fuck off.” He finally said, giving up and climbing down as you chuckled.

“Good… night.” You said, imitating him.

You heard him laugh before replying.

“Hey, sleep with one eye open tonight.”

-

You woke up once more to the sound of classical music, the PA system telling you to get out of bed quickly before the start of the third game. Ah, you could’ve used some more sleep. Whatever.

You stretched and climbed down, seeing your brother share a pill with Namgyu. You sighed, ignoring them and walked amongst the others, waking your legs.

In the long and narrow corridors, Subong and Namgyu were already hyped, joking together. Whatever deadly game was coming, they didn’t care. 

You entered a big room with lots of colored doors, with some kind of round platform in the middle. As you got in, the name of the game got announced.

“Woah, we’ll be mingling together !” Said Subong excitedly looking at the group. “Doesn’t that sound like so much fun ?”

Only Namgyu seemed happy about it, jumping forward instead of walking.

The voice told the rules, repeating itself once more so everyone had heard and understood.

Soon the game started, the platform turning on itself with a song playing on the speakers. Round and Round.

You tried to relax, ready for the voice to announce the number while your brother was shaking his arm in the air, enjoying himself.

The song and the platform stopped suddenly, almost making you fall over.

“Ten.”

You quickly looked at your group, a 30 seconds timer playing. You grabbed the person behind your back as your brother, Namgyu and Semi did the same while taking Minsu and Gyeongsu with you, holding onto each other as you rushed inside a small room.

You looked through the small hole in the door, watching as the remaining people were shot, before being placed inside boxes. The doors unlocked themselves, allowing you to walk out.

You went back on the platform, staring at the puddles of blood splattered on the floor. Your stomach doing a flip.

The song started over, Namgyu and Subong locking arms and dancing.

“Five.”

You stared at your group. You were 6. You saw your brother look at Minsu and Gyeongsu, hesitating before stopping and only looking at him.

“Please…” Gyeongsu said, scared.

“Gyeongsu, you’re out !” Subong finally said, kicking him in the stomach. “Let’s go ! Whooo !” He rushed away, grabbing your arm as you looked at Gyeongsu, shocked. 380 grabbed Minsu who was also standing still.

“Wait- Gyeongsu !” Minsu yelled, wanting to help him as he was pulled away and into another small room, door locking behind him.

“Namgyu, what happened to Gyeongsu ?” Minsu asked as you stared at your brother, unable to wrap your head around what happened.

“Minsu, you fucker.” Namgyu replied, hitting his chest. “Talk to me like I’m your friend again, and I’ll leave you out there next time.”

“Wait !” Subong raised his arms, gaining the attention of everyone. “Where did you leave my boy Gyeongsu ?

You looked at him, utterly confused, as you were about to reply, gunshots and screaming were heard. He brought his hands to his head as he tried to remember what happened.

He suddenly pushed Namgyu to the side, looking through the hole.

“Fuck ! Gyeongsu !” He yelled, horrified.

You stared at him like he had grown a second head.

The doors were unlocked after a couple minutes and you slowly walked out, more blood on the floor, it was hard to not walk on it.

Minsu was distraught by it as well, looking at a puddle by his feet.

“Hey Minsu ! Come on, my boy, come on !” Your brother called him, waving at him to join the group.

It was time for another round, now there were less people on the platform as it began to turn once more.

“Three.”

Subong turned to look at you to grab you and Namgyu but you had disappeared.

With the way he was acting, you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t afraid of what he could do. Not wanting the same fate as Gyeongsu, you left to find two players to go with you.

You were holding one by the hand, frantically looking for one more person. That’s when you saw Semi alone. You grabbed her as well and rushed to a room, closing the door behind you.

Shaking, you tried to calm down, heart pounding. Semi stared at you. The sound of gunshots echoed again and then the voice over the speaker announced the players that had died as circles were putting them in boxes.

The doors reopened and you walked out, fidgeting with your fingers. When is this going to end ? You and 380 noticed Minsu, who stared at her with a relieved expression.

As you went to the platform again, you tried to blend with the other players so your brother wouldn’t find you. Which didn’t work.

“Where did you wander off to ? I thought you died !” He said, frowning, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

The platform began moving again but after a few seconds only it stopped.

“Six.”

You knew you couldn’t find 5 people in only 30 seconds, so you stayed with them to find 2 more, before rushing inside yet another small room.

As the doors unlocked after some time, you walked out, almost slipping on a puddle of blood. You felt sick and didn’t know if you could keep trusting your own brother.

“Now, the final round.” The woman on the PA system said.

“Fucking finally.” You whispered as you bent down, hands on your knees, tired of it.

The platform began to move, one last time, Round and Round still playing. 

“Two.”

Subong’s head was shaking, cartoonishly looking at you, Namgyu and Minsu. You rolled your eyes and grabbed Minsu, rushing away, closing the door behind you two.

You should’ve known this would happen.

When you were finally allowed to walk out and into the corridors, you didn’t wait for Subong. You were one of the firsts entering the lobby before climbing to your bed. You sighed, at least you made it out alive.

You saw your brother arrive with Namgyu, rushing to Minsu’s side, hugging him energetically. You rolled your eyes, falling backward on your bed, closing your eyes.

Barely a minute after, you heard someone climb your ladder.

“Hey bro. Why did you leave like that ?” Subong asked. “You even wandered off in the middle of the game !”

You ignored him, turning to face the other side.

“Ah, don’t be like that. I knew you’d survive.”

“Go away. I’m voting X.”

“Oh come on, don’t do that.” He whined, a hand on your shoulder, shaking you slightly.

“Picking that guy over your own fucking brother ? No, no, I understand.” You scoffed, refusing to look at him.

“Heyy, you picked Minsu first.” He said. You could hear his smile in his voice. He was still not taking this seriously.

“Your ass was not about to pick me, don’t fucking lie.”

“I was !”

“Is that what you told Minsu too when you got back here ? My boy, I thought I was with you but turns out it was this bastard.” You said, imitating his voice.

“I’m serious ! I was really gonna pick you !”

“Right. Go away, please.”

You heard him sigh, probably running a hand through his hair. Why were you so stingy about it, you survived.

“You’re gonna tell mom ?” He asked, trying to make you laugh. But you said nothing instead, ignoring him again.

He huffed, patting your shoulder before climbing down and going back to Namgyu and Minsu.

You stayed like this for a moment, trying to calm your nerves until the square and his triangles came in. He congratulated you all once more, announcing the results of the third game.

356 million won were accumulated in that glass piggy.

“The vote will once again be conducted in reverse order of your player numbers.” The square said, the voting machine now installed. “Player 456, please cast your vote.”

As the vote went on, you watched as Semi picked X. You looked to the side where your brother was. He was looking at her, making a ‘watching you’ sign with his hands. You smiled before wondering if you could really pick X as well. Subong’s money plus yours would equal 712 million won. Still not enough for his debts, even if you add player 333’s gain.

And as much as you were mad at your brother, you came here to help, not abandon him.

God this was giving you a headache.

The vote continued, your brother skipping to the buttons, kissing the O before turning around to scream while making a circle with his arms.

“Circle ! Let’s go !”

You sighed. You just wanted to go home.

Then it was Minsu’s turn to vote, choosing X. That surprised you.

Namgyu’s turn came right after him, and with no surprises he chose O again.

You did the same, though you had hesitated a few seconds before the buttons. Fuck it, we ball, eh ?

“I knew you’d do the right thing.” Subong whispered to you as you passed next to him to climb to your bed. But you didn’t say anything.

The scores were tight, no side truly getting ahead of the other.

Then the Os were winning again, 50 against 49.

Only 001 remained. His vote barely mattered. It’ll either make a tie or reinforce the Os.

It ended in a tie. Which means the vote will happen again.

Ah, you really didn’t wanna do it. You stayed on your bed until the circles came back with food. You climbed down, and waited in line for a bottle of coke and gimbap rolled up in tin foil.

Subong stopped before you, but you continued walking, passing next to him.

He rushed after you, handing you half of his gimbap.

“Don’t want it.” You said, not looking at him.

“Come on, I know you’re hungry. Take it. I’m sorry.”

“Give it to your new brother.” You replied before climbing to your bed.

As you were eating and drinking calmly on your own, the Xs called the Os to change their vote, saying they’d invite him for some beef and noodles.

Oh, how you wanted to change your vote. Beef and noodles…

The Xs didn’t take this kindly, arguing back until both sides were at each other's throat though they never crossed the red and blue lines separating them.

Slowly the chaos died down, and people were led to the bathroom. You decided to go as well, since you saw both Subong and 333 walk out. Seeing how it went last time, you knew it would end the same way. And if you or 001 wasn’t here to stop Subong, it could end really badly.

“Ah, that bastard.”

You were waiting by the exit door, watching, ready to leave once your brother and Namgyu were done talking to Minsu hiding in the stall. 333 was doing his thing. Everything was well.

But things escalated quickly, the YouTuber interrupted them to protect Minsu’s vote.

They faced and threatened each other, gathering Os and Xs behind themselves. Soon, Minsu rushed out of the stall, hiding behind others Xs.

You stayed by the door, not wanting to have anything to do with it, especially at this scale. You could handle your brother fighting but not a handful of men.

Then, of course, a fight erupted, 333 throwing himself at your brother who quickly sent him to the floor before punching him. Amidst the chaos, you moved closer to them, ready to pull Subong away.

As they strangled each other, you saw 333 take something out of his pocket and quickly you grabbed Subong, pulling him from behind. But that bastard was strong, resisting.

You let go of him before putting all your strength into one more pull, 333 stabbing the air as you and Subong fell on your back, your brother landing on you.

Before he could ask you why you did that, 333 threw himself on him once more, successfully stabbing his left arm and his right hand. 

Luckily, your brother was stronger, pushing him off and standing up quickly again, kicking him in the head and stomach.

You stood up as well and pulled your brother with you, walking out of the bathroom. He argued back, wanting to continue the fight and kill him. 

You refused to let go of him, both pulling in different directions. You accidentally let go of him and he hurried back to the bathroom until you grabbed him by his hair. He let out a scream of pain before doing the same to you with his unharmed hand. Both holding a fist full of hair.

“Come on, stop it !” You yelled, grunting, trying to move your head toward his hand so it wouldn’t hurt you too much.

“You fucking stop it ! Why are you against me ?!”

“Because you’re being fucking dumb !” You winced. “You want to make mom proud !? Don’t fucking kill anyone, that’ll- That’ll fucking help !”

“Let go of me !”

“Not before you calm down !” You pulled his hair harder. “I’m not fucking stopping until you go back to the lobby !”

“Ah ! Fucking bastard !” He yelled, hissing, before finally letting go of you. “Okay I did it, let go of me ! It fucking hurts ! Come on, bro !”

You waited a few seconds before finally pulling away, he rubbed his head, soothing where it was hurting as you did the same. Fuck, maybe you should shave your head so it wouldn’t happen again.

“You.” He pointed at you, approaching. “Why the fuck did you stop me ? Mh ? You should have my back at all times !”

“I fucking do !” You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “I told you. Do you think mom would be happy to hear how you egged Minsu to vote O, or how you harassed that crypto bastard, nearly killing him ? Or how you pushed those three people to their death during Green light, red light ! I haven’t forgotten ! Or Gyeongsu !”

“Alright, I get it ! Shut up !” He put his hands on his forehead, frowning. He barely remembered what he did. Did he really push three people ? Was it him who killed Gyeongsu ?

“I know you don’t care about dad, I don’t either, but if you go back there and kill that bastard, everything he said about you would turn out true.”

“I said I get it ! Shut your fucking mouth !”

You stared at each other in silence, regaining your calm slowly.

“It fucking scared me, dude.” You started. “That shit you take- After Gyeongsu I thought you’d get me killed as well. That’s why I took Minsu with me when you hesitated.”

“Okay ! I know, I’m sorry !”

You huffed. God, you wanted to punch him.

“Do I have to drag your ass back to the lobby or are you gonna walk with me ?”

“Guys !” You heard coming from behind you two. “Oh my god, guys, you’re here !” Namgyu. You sighed, rolling your eyes. “I got MG Coin’s fork !” He said, rushing to your side, showing it off.

Subong took it quickly, looking at the tines.

“It got my fucking blood on it !”

“Thanos.” You glared at him, warning him. He stared at you, surprised to hear you call him by his stage name. 

He gave the fork back to Namgyu with an annoyed sigh, making his way down the long corridors.

“Let’s go.” He said, waving at you two to follow him.

Crossing your arms you walked behind him until you reached the lobby’s door.

As Namgyu entered, he yelled that the Xs had attacked you three, nearly killing your brother and successfully killing more people.

Both sides slowly approached as Namgyu continued to lie about what actually happened. You walked away from them, going to your bed as you looked at Subong, giving him a ‘watching you’ sign with your hand before climbing up the ladder.

Soon after, the rest of the people in the bathroom arrived, the Xs quickly argued back, defending themselves and trying to spread the truth but the Os refused to believe them. 

The old man, 100, stopped them, asking which side had lost more men, stunning everyone into silence. That’s right, which side ?

Quickly the Xs and Os gathered to count themselves. You stayed on your bed, not really caring if your side had lost more. You knew the result would influence directly on the result of the vote tomorrow, but you didn’t care anymore. You just wanted to go home with your pain in the ass brother.

Your back against the wall, you were already dozing off when the voice over the speakers spoke, telling you to return to bed for nighttime, the lights turning off in 30 minutes.

Slowly the two big groups separated themselves into smaller ones as they rejoined their bed. Continuing talking until the last few minutes of light.

You were practically asleep when you felt your bed shake, someone climbing up the ladder. You groaned, already guessing who it was.

“[Name].” Subong said, shaking you. “You have to get down.”

“No.” You replied quietly, tired.

“They are planning to attack the other side, Namsu and some others have forks but so does the Xs. You can’t stay in the open.”

You sighed, sitting up.

“Huh ?”

“Come with me. We have to hide.”

“You’re not gonna participate in the fight ? Really ? Not even to try and kill crypto man ?”

He shook his head ‘no’ though it was evident he wanted to take part in it.

“Gotta protect my little brother.” He replied, pinching your cheek.

You slapped his hand away, groaning.

“Stop that, I’m not a baby.” You said, but he ignored you, climbing down.

“Come, quickly.”

You groaned, following him. Why did they want to kill each other like that when the games were already doing it ?

“10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…” The voice over the speaker counted.

As you reached the floor, the lights were out. Subong grabbed your arm, pulling you with him, quietly searching for a hiding spot.

“Under the beds, on the floor.” You whispered as you went down, crawling.

He followed you, lying on his stomach next to you as you tried to see what was going on.

You heard a scream from the X side, then rushed footsteps and more screaming. The lights began flickering as chaos quickly followed, everyone fighting. Punching, kicking, stabbing. Killing.

“Don’t make a sound.” Your brother whispered, his hand on your back.

After what could be 5 minutes, the lights were back on again as a group of triangles with a square entered, shooting in the air to stop the fight. 

They walked in, aiming at everyone standing up, making sure they stayed still before scanning the dead.

Your eyes widened when you saw 456 grab a triangle and steal his gun, killing the pink man, followed by more people doing so.

You and Thanos looked at each other, confused.

“What the fuck ?” He said and you shushed him rapidly.

You watched from under the bed as the triangles retreated, leaving behind them the square. An X tried to kill the Os remaining with his gun, but 456 stopped him, before yelling, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Everyone ! Don’t be scared ! Gather round, please !”

Subong shook his head, silently telling you to not move and stay hidden.

“It’s okay to come out !” Another man yelled.

“We’re not trying to hurt you !” 456 continued. Then you heard gunshots again.

It was 120 shooting the cameras.

Soon, everyone except you two was standing up, out of their hiding spot as they gathered guns and ammo in the middle of the room.

“Everyone.” 456 started again. “We will now head up to the masked men’s headquarters. We’ll capture the ones who captured us, put an end to this game, and make them pay !”

You watched as each member of his team was holding a gun.

“Anyone who knows how to use a gun and wishes to join us, please step forward. You tried to make yourself smaller, fearing to be seen even though you were still hiding.

“Hey. I know you’re scared.” Began 390. “I’m scared too. But this may be our last chance to make it out of this place alive. Fight with us so we can go home together. All together.”

“I’ll fight with you.” Said a man, quickly followed by others.

You grabbed Subong’s sweatshirt. Though he didn’t know how to use a gun, except in video games, you believed him dumb enough to try and go with them.

“I’m not gonna go.” He whispered.

“Are you sure ?”

“I’m not dumb.”

“Are you sure ?” You repeated again, smiling. He tsked, pushing your hand away.

“Ah, they left.”

You looked toward the front, no longer seeing 456 and his team. You sighed, relieved.

Now what ?

[heliosunny]

LUCKY EGG

Yandere!Sunday x Reader

You had always been curious about the Lucky Egg Dispenser, a mysterious device rumored to grant adventurers a lifelong companion. Most people who used it received magical creatures, loyal beasts, or helpful familiars.

“It doesn’t hurt to try” you muttered, inserting the required currency and pulling the lever.

With a soft clunk, a smooth white egg rolled out, settling at your feet. You picked it up, weighing it in your hands. The display indicated it would take three days to hatch, not an issue for you. You had raised creatures before, and you always loved trying new things.

But when the time came, and the egg finally cracked open… Instead of a creature, instead of an animal or familiar, a man stepped out.

Tall, elegant, dressed in pristine white with a knowing smile curling at his lips. His bright golden eyes gleamed as he stretched, as if waking from a long dream.

Then, his gaze landed on you.

“Ah” he murmured, his voice smooth as silk. “So you’re the one who called me.”

Before you could react, he took a step forward, grasping your hand gently but firmly, bringing it to his lips in a slow, deliberate kiss.

“You may call me Sunday” he said, smiling sweetly. “And from now on—” his grip tightened, his golden eyes never wavering from yours “I belong to you.”

Baby duck syndrome is not what you expected.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

Sunday remained close, his golden eyes studying you with a quiet fascination. There was something unsettling about the way he observed you, like you were a puzzle he had already solved but still wanted to take apart piece by piece.

Then, his expression shifted. A small, tired sigh escaped his lips as he leaned ever so slightly against you. “I feel… strange” he murmured, his voice soft, almost vulnerable.

Your instincts kicked in before you could think.

“Are you feeling weak?” you asked, scanning him for signs of illness or exhaustion. He had just been born, after all.

Sunday only gave a slow nod.

You hesitated before gently guiding him to the bed. “You should rest” you said, pulling the blanket over him. “I’ll go out and buy some food. Stay here and sleep.”

Sunday blinked up at you, his golden eyes half-lidded, his lips curling just slightly at the corners.

“Okay.” he whispered.

You left, unaware of the way his gaze lingered on your retreating figure. Unaware of the way his fingers lightly traced the sheets you had just touched. Unaware of the way he let out a quiet chuckle, his exhaustion nothing more than an act, a simple game to see how easily you’d care for him.

How quickly you’d let your guard down.

When you returned with bags of food, he was exactly where you had left him, still curled beneath the blanket.

The next morning, as you prepared for work, Sunday sat up with a slow, lazy stretch.

“Take me with you” he said.

You blinked. “You want to go dungeon crawling?”

He tilted his head. “You’re my partner, aren’t you? I should be by your side.”

You hesitated. Taking an inexperienced person into a dungeon was dangerous, even if he had come from the Lucky Egg. But from the way he looked at you, so expectant, so patient, you found yourself agreeing before you could think too hard about it.

“Alright. But first, we need to get you supplies and a weapon.”

Sunday smiled. It was a slow, knowing smile, like he had expected you to say yes all along.

The weapon shop was one of the best in town, known for testing adventurers to determine what kind of weapon suited them best.

Sunday walked in beside you, his golden eyes sweeping over the neatly arranged weapons, his expression unreadable. The shopkeeper, an older man who had seen countless warriors come and go, greeted you with a nod.

“New recruit?” he asked, looking Sunday up and down.

You hesitated before nodding. “Something like that.”

Sunday said nothing, only offering the man a polite smile.

The shopkeeper gestured toward the testing area. “Alright, kid. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Unlike most adventurers, Sunday didn’t reach for a sword or staff.

Instead, he walked toward a shelf lined with old spellbooks.

He stopped in front of one, tilting his head before picking it up. The moment his fingers brushed the cover, the book shuddered, glowing symbols unraveling from the pages, floating in the air like restless spirits.

A deep hum filled the room. Sunday's golden eyes gleamed as the magic coiled around his fingertips. He flipped the book open, running his hand over the text.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, he spoke a single word.

A shockwave burst through the shop, every candle flickering, every item rattling on its shelves. A surge of energy shot forward, splitting the testing dummy apart with precise, clean cuts, the edges of the wood scorched from pure magical heat.

The shopkeeper let out a slow breath. “…You sure he’s a beginner?”

Sunday turned to you, his smile small but unmistakable.

As if he was expecting your reaction.

The dungeon entrance loomed ahead, an eerie cavern pulsing with an unnatural glow. You had been here before, countless times, even. But this time, you weren’t alone.

Sunday walked beside you, his book tucked under one arm, golden eyes bright with curiosity. Unlike most newcomers, he showed no hesitation. If anything, he looked amused.

“Stay close” you warned as you stepped in. “Dungeons aren’t predictable.”

Sunday merely smiled. “Of course.”

The first wave of monsters lunged at you.

You raised your weapon, already preparing to fight, but before you could react, Sunday murmured something under his breath. The spellbook in his hands flipped open on its own. Ethereal pages glowed, symbols lifting into the air like drifting embers. A pulse of invisible energy rippled outward. The monsters stopped instantly. Their movements slowed, their eyes unfocused, as if they had forgotten what they were doing. Then, one by one, they turned, lumbering away, their aggression erased from their minds.

You stood frozen. “Did you… just make them forget they were attacking?”

Sunday hummed, flipping another page. “Mmm. Something like that.”

Before you could question him further, a second group of monsters appeared. This time, Sunday didn’t wait. He spoke another spell, his voice lilting, almost gentle. The creatures turned on each other.

They screeched and tore at their own kind, their minds completely overwritten, their perception of friend and foe altered in an instant. By the time you stepped forward to deal the final blow, there was nothing left to fight.

“Was that helpful?” he asked lightly.

You didn’t answer immediately. Because no matter how useful his magic was, no matter how effortless he made it seem, there was one undeniable fact. Sunday’s power wasn’t just about attack or defense. It was about control.

After emerging victorious from Sunday’s first dungeon dive, you decided to celebrate.

The bar was lively, filled with adventurers boasting of their conquests over drinks. You found a table for two, ordering food and drinks, letting the adrenaline from the dungeon finally settle.

Sunday sat across from you, golden eyes watching your every move. He hadn’t touched his drink much, merely swirling the liquid in his glass, seemingly more interested in you.

"You did well today" you admitted, taking another sip of your drink.

His lips curled slightly. "Mmm. Did I?"

You gave him a look. "You know you did."

Sunday hummed, tilting his head. "Then… will you keep me by your side?"

Something about the way he said it sent a strange shiver down your spine, but before you could respond, a loud scoff interrupted.

You turned, eyes narrowing as a group of men approached your table. You recognized them, regular adventurers, ones who never liked newcomers.

"Never seen you around before" one sneered, looking at Sunday. "A fresh recruit, huh? Got yourself an easy ride with a partner like that?"

Sunday blinked at them, expression unreadable.

You sighed, already annoyed. "We're just here to eat."

"Yeah?" Another man chuckled, resting a hand on your shoulder. "Then maybe you can spare some of those dungeon points for us, sweetheart."

Before he could finish his sentence, he froze. His eyes went blank. His fingers twitched before he abruptly pulled his hand away, stepping back as if he had touched something burning.

The other men stilled, confusion flashing across their faces as the atmosphere shifted.

Sunday was still seated, his book closed, his expression pleasant.

"You're being quite rude" he murmured.

The men stiffened. Their faces twisted as if they were struggling to understand something, as if their own thoughts weren’t their own anymore. Then, without another word, they turned. And walked straight out of the bar.

You stared.

Sunday smiled at you. "Shall we continue our meal?"

You didn't reply immediately. Because once again, he had done something—something unnatural.

By the time you returned home, the alcohol had settled in, leaving you slightly sluggish.

Sunday followed you closely, perfectly composed despite drinking with you earlier.

"You should rest" you mumbled, pushing him toward his own bed.

Sunday let himself be tucked in, golden eyes watching you with quiet amusement.

You turned to leave for the other room, but suddenly, an arm wrapped around your waist. You barely had time to react before you were pulled down into Sunday’s embrace. Your breath hitched as he buried his face into your shoulder, his grip firm.

"Stay" he whispered.

You tensed. "Sunday—"

"Just for tonight" he said. "You're warm."

Your body was too heavy from exhaustion, too sluggish from the alcohol to argue properly. Eventually, sleep pulled you under.

The next morning, you woke up sore.

Your body ached from the awkward position you had slept in, Sunday’s arms still loosely wrapped around you. You groaned, shifting slightly. That was when you felt his fingers brush against your back.

“…You're in pain?” His voice was quiet.

You sighed. “Kind of. You held on too tight.”

“I see. My apologies.”

His tone was light, casual, even. But when you turned to look at him—He was smiling. And somehow, you got the distinct feeling that he wasn’t sorry at all.

It wasn’t surprising that Sunday’s abilities had drawn attention. After the dungeon raid and his effortless control over enemies, it was only a matter of time before a guild or authority figure took notice.

They approached the two of you after a routine dungeon run, their uniforms crisp, their expressions unreadable.

“You there! Sunday, was it?”

Sunday barely spared them a glance.

“We’d like to speak with you. Your abilities are… unconventional.”

Sunday smiled. Not his usual playful one. Not his amused, knowing one. This one was cold.

“I’m not interested.”

The guild members exchanged glances, clearly not expecting such a blunt dismissal.

“You should reconsider. If you join, you’ll have access to—”

“I said,” Sunday cut in smoothly, “I’m not interested.”

The conversation ended there.

You didn’t press him about it. Not yet.

A few days later, you finally had some free time. Deciding Sunday needed to learn more about this world, you took him through the city, explaining how things worked, the market, the trading system, the different factions of adventurers. He listened with interest, though he often focused more on you than on the surroundings.

Then, while passing by a street vendor, you noticed something. Sunday had stopped walking. He was staring at a display of rings, delicate, polished bands, some plain, some adorned with small gemstones.

You raised an eyebrow. “Interested in jewelry?”

Sunday blinked, as if caught off guard. “No” he said, too quickly.

You smirked.

Ignoring his weak denial, you picked up a simple silver ring and handed it to the vendor.

“I’ll take this one.”

Sunday’s eyes widened slightly as you took his hand, slipping the ring onto his finger.

“There” you said. “Consider it a gift.”

For a moment, he just stared at it. Then, he flexed his fingers, golden eyes unreadable.

“…You shouldn’t give things like this so easily.”

You shrugged. “Why not?”

His lips parted as if he wanted to say something.

But before he could, a familiar, sinking feeling settled in your gut.

You weren’t alone.

You barely had time to react before figures appeared around you, their movements precise, their presence unmistakable.

Guild members.

And they weren’t just here to talk this time.

Sunday stepped in front of you immediately.

One of the guild members raised a hand. “We don’t want trouble. We just need him to come with us.”

Sunday’s fingers curled. You felt it before you saw it. The shift in the air. The way reality itself seemed to bend around him. One moment, the guild members were standing firm. The next, their movements turned sluggish, hesitant.

Some faltered entirely, eyes unfocused, their minds clearly muddled.

“Leave” he said

And they did.

Not because they wanted to

But because Sunday had made them want to.

By the time you got home, the tension had finally faded.

You let out a relieved breath, turning to Sunday. “That was… intense.”

He simply smiled. “I handled it.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I noticed.”

Then, softly, you asked, “Sunday… why were they after you?”

He hesitated. His usual ease, his usual playfulness—gone.

“…Does it matter?” he murmured.

“Yes.”

Then, with a small chuckle, he looked away.

“Let’s not ruin the mood.”

And just like that, the conversation was over.

But the weight of your unanswered question lingered. And you couldn’t shake the feeling that Sunday was keeping something from you.

You couldn’t ignore it anymore. Sunday was too strong, too intelligent, too unnatural.

His level skyrocketed after only a few dungeon runs. His magic wasn’t just powerful, it was absolute. He could alter minds, erase memories, bend reality in ways no normal adventurer could.

And now, the guild wanted him.

But for what reason?

And why wouldn’t he tell you?

You decided to start with the Adventurer’s Registry.

Every adventurer, no matter their origin, had an entry in the system. Even those spawned from the Lucky Egg Machine would at least have basic data—name, level, class, stats.

But when you searched for Sunday, something strange happened. There was no record.

Not incomplete data. Not a hidden file.

Just… nothing.

As if he didn’t exist.

A cold feeling settled in your gut.

Something was wrong.

Determined, you dug deeper.

If the registry didn’t have his records, then maybe the guild—

Error

Your access was blocked.

That was odd. You weren’t a high-ranking adventurer, but you should have been able to see basic guild logs.

Why would Sunday’s information be classified?

Unless…

It was dangerous to know.

That night, you confronted him.

“Sunday,” you said firmly, stepping in front of him. “Who are you?”

He blinked, golden eyes gleaming in the dim light.

Then, he smiled. “Your partner.”

“Don’t do that.” Your voice was sharper than intended. “I looked you up. You don’t exist. Not in the registry. Not anywhere.”

He sighed.

“…You just couldn’t leave it alone, could you?”

“Sunday” you whispered. “Tell me the truth.”

He tilted his head, studying you, fingers tracing the ring you had given him.

Then, softly, almost regretfully—he murmured:

“I was never meant to be found.”

And just like that, you realized

Sunday wasn’t just powerful.

He was something else entirely.

Your investigation led you to an unlikely source, an old researcher who had once worked with the guild. The meeting was secretive, hidden within the ruins of an abandoned archive.

"You’re looking into that boy, aren’t you?" the researcher murmured, flipping through aged documents. "Sunday… That’s what you call him?"

You nodded. "You know something, don’t you?"

A sigh. The researcher slid a file toward you. The papers inside were yellowed with age, some pages missing, others barely legible. But what you could read chilled you.

[Project: Daybreak]

An artificial entity, created through forbidden magic. Designed to manipulate perception, rewrite reality itself. A prototype abandoned before completion—

—escaped from containment—

—no known weaknesses—

—do not engage without extreme caution—

Your hands trembled as you turned to the researcher. "This… This means he’s not-"

"Not human" the researcher finished. "Not even from the Lucky Egg Machine. He’s something far more dangerous."

And you had been traveling with him, trusting him, without knowing any of this.

Your breath came fast, panic setting in. "I have to—"

A shadow loomed behind you.

Too late.

A gentle hand rested on your shoulder.

A familiar, comforting voice whispered:

"You shouldn’t have seen that."

Your body tensed, magic seeped into your mind, curling like soft whispers in your thoughts.

Forget

The world blurred.

When you woke up, you were in your bed. Sunday sat beside you, reading a book, his golden eyes calm as he noticed you stir.

"Morning" he said, voice light. "You were out for a while."

Your head felt… strange.

Something was missing.

Hadn’t you been—?

You blinked. What were you even trying to remember?

Shaking the strange thought away, you sat up. Sunday smiled, reaching out to brush your hair from your face.

"You should rest more," he murmured. "I’ll take care of everything."

You nodded slowly, the unease already slipping away.

Because Sunday was your partner.

And there was nothing to worry about.

Right?

[dumbbitchenergy17]

BTS: Where the Wild Things Are

Plot: An audition leads to unforgettable moments on a hit show.

Word Count: 6.3K

Pairing: Paul Mescal x Reader

Warnings: fake fight scene, protective Paul and Pedro, fluff, potential spoilers to Where the Wild Things Are [read here]

—————

The cityscape was something you welcomed, honking traffic, people shouting in the streets, and the chaos and beauty that came from living in New York. Your partner on the other hand was still adjusting, having moved in about 4 months ago. In that time so much has occurred, hosting SNL, attending premieres for films you both starred in as well as attending award shows that you had the honor of presenting an award at one. The most recent event that passed was the Met Gala and your birthday was now on the latest agenda. You hear the front door unlock over the light music and traffic from outside before clicking shut.

“I got bagels for the birthday girl,” Paul calls out coming from the entryway to find you curled up on the couch watching Hannibal the last show on your binge list. He comes from behind the sofa and you pause to lean back and look at him upside down as he gives a charming smile.

“How was your run babe?” You ask accepting the sweet kiss he gives before coming around easily sinking into the couch. His headphones around his neck, he’s dressed in a cap, a sleeveless t-shirt, and those shorts he loves.

“I found this runner’s route about 3 miles and got to see some of the sights around here before I got hungry for food,” He says while pulling out the two sandwiches, “Made sure it was an everything bagel before I left.” He passes yours over you smile quickly feasting on the treat.

“Wow my order is finally right, it’s a birthday miracle.” You tease and he rolls his eyes eating his sandwich.

“Ran into these two nice girls as I was leaving and got a picture they also said happy birthday. I was surprised they even recognized me.” He comments and you poke with your free hand his bare sweaty thigh.

“It’s those damn shorts, they’re a magnet to any Paul Mescal fan in a 20-mile radius.” Since he moved into your cozy apartment in Greenwich Village those shorts have become a staple in his New York City lifestyle. You’ve never seen more paparazzi photos of him in shorts since he moved here.

He smirks leaning close to you, “Are these shorts a magnet to you?” He flirts as he raises a brow only making you snort. The moment is cut off by your phone ringing seeing it is a call from your agent. Paul groans at the name, “Don’t they know it’s your birthday that means no work.”

“Oh hush, they’re probably calling to say happy birthday,” You say getting up to enter the home office. You knew most likely it was that but also something you’ve been sorta keeping from Paul and also Pedro and Bella. So during that interview, the year prior involving a certain video game that had a book it was mentioned of a potential fan-casting involving you. You joked about being involved just to appease the fans of the hit show. It was only after the Emmys with your win that news came out of the hit video game book Where the Wild Things Are was being adapted into a spin-off series from The Last of Us. Immediately the world blew up, with fan-casting and speculations of when what, and who. You were excited to see a novel you enjoyed being adapted but it was only when you got an email sent from your agent and told to record a self-tape that you recognized the scene and what was being asked of you. That was a month ago when you sent in the tape and it was only this week you heard back that you got the job. Luckily Paul was busy with his projects and promotions so it was easy to be at virtual meetings or having to fly out to LA for negotiations with The Last of Us team and your team under the guise of negotiation for the latest Star Wars film you were meant to start in.

“Hey Cathy,” You answer while closing the office door behind you.

“Happy birthday Y/n I hope you’re enjoying your day,” She greets you.

“It’s been good relaxing, definitely mentally preparing myself for whatever Paul and Pedro have planned for tonight.” That makes her laugh. It was good with everyone in the city for the Met Gala they planned to remain for your birthday. It was all planned out with spending the day with your childhood friends the day before as a pre-celebration. You weren’t sure what they had planned but with Pedro involved it could only be as crazy as your twenty-first.

“Well be safe tonight, but I just got off the phone with Jeanine. She says Craig and Neil are all good on their end with the paperwork. We’ll send you an email in regards to obtaining your script and any upcoming schedule. News of your casting will be drafted up soon to be published,” She says and you smile, “But tonight enjoy your night with your friends and family.”

“Thank you so much, Cathy. Guess now is a better time than ever to tell them I auditioned and got it.” You hear her gasp on the other line.

“You haven’t told them you auditioned?!” You shrink pacing the office looking over the collage you have on the wall at your desk. Photos of your friends and family, but also photos on sets, from your earliest projects to even now. Your favorite is of you and Paul in Malta exploring the city together. You had tried getting a nice photo of the two of you until a kind couple offered to take it for you. You guys weren’t even looking at the camera as it's taken mid-laughter, your head thrown back mid-laugh while Paul has a cheesy grin having just told a joke to get you to smile.

“I was gonna tell them when I knew I got a callback, then it just felt right to surprise them. So now here we are, I’m gonna see them all tonight so best time to tell them.” You say with a laugh and you hear her sigh on the other end.

“Well enjoy your night and congrats again!”

When your friends and family let your boyfriend and second father-figure to plan your birthday you had to know they had something crazy planned. When you first got with Paul your birthday was only shortly after you made it official so you didn’t do anything insane with him. You guys had a nice dinner with live music together and he got you a gift card to one of your favorite stores. But with you know a year together and knowing each other you’re not sure what he has in mind.

It was immediately swept away by your glam team who completely pampered you with your favorite rituals, cocktails, and Frank Ocean. Elvira keeps your hair in its natural style leaving it down, René creates this sultry look with accents of pink glitter across your lids.

“Guys what hell,” You gasp when Juliano reveals a gorgeous pink set from Brielle that you’ve been dying to wear, from the lace leggings, the asymmetrical mini skirt, the off-the-shoulder gloved top with squared jewels as the button of the opening at your wrists and on the skirt, to the scarf with a large gem buckle. Even down to a new pair of shoes that match perfectly.

“Don’t look at us, this is all your lovely boyfriend’s doing we just made sure it was in your measurements,” Juliano says and your eyes start watering up about to cry.

“No! None of that I just did a sickening eyeliner just for you to ruin it!” René scolds you fanning your tears away and you force yourself to suck them back.

“I’m sorry okay,” You take a deep breath before giving a big smile, “I’m all good I swear no tears I promise.”

The three of them pull you into a hug, “Alright go get dressed, enjoy tonight!” Juliano says pressing kisses to your cheeks.

You give them all looks, “You have any idea what those two have planned?” They all give devilish smiles completely aware.

“We have been sworn to secrecy for this,” Elvira locks her mouth before throwing away the key. You groan making the three laugh before they all head out to let you get dressed. Deciding to add a pair of square diamonds to match the whole ensemble when you hear a knock on the door.

“Come in,” You call out seeing from the reflection Paul enters freshly showered and dressed in a casual black suit the first few buttons undone. You can see him drinking up your appearance as he slowly stalks over as you put in one of your earrings.

“Hi, handsome.” You smile as his hands rest your hips pressing featherlight kisses across your shoulder slowly creeping up to your neck. “Thank you for the outfit.” He just hums continuing his path of kisses you hear him inhale slightly the scent of your perfume as you put your other earring in.

“I kinda regret planning this whole elaborate birthday night,” He mutters into your skin and you can feel his body heat against your back fully pressing up against you wrapping you up in his arms, “Just wanna rip these clothes off and give your birthday gift.” He bites at the crook of your neck drawing a gasp mixed with a laugh from you.

“Down boy,” You spin in his arms leaning against your dresser letting your fingers twirl the curls at the base of his neck, “As much as I would enjoy your gift. I intend to take this pretty outfit out at least once to celebrate my birthday with our friends and family before you quote ‘rip these clothes off’ end quote.” That makes Paul chuckle pressing a kiss to your lips before sighing and resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“Fine let’s go see all our friends and make you happy,” He grabs your hand and guides you out of your apartment.

You laugh as you follow after your sulking boyfriend, “Don’t act like you’re not gonna enjoy whatever crazy shit you and Pedro planned.” You're unsure whether to be excited or scared about what they have planned.

It started with a nice dinner just between the two of you. Nothing too crazy a simple romantic dinner with a drink or two. You were getting nervous as the night continued letting Paul lead you through the streets constantly glancing at his watch for the time.

“You’re making me nervous, Paul, " you say as you cross the street, your heels clacking against the pavement. You hold his arm, guiding him out of the way of other people walking, his gaze glued to his phone.

“We’re here!” He stops abruptly in front of a building that looks very pretty. He leans you inside before speaking briefly to the receptionist who scans you in before entering an elevator and pressing the roof floor.

“Paul, what do you have planned?” You give him a questioning look as the floor number increases and he only gives a bright smile.

“Don’t worry,” He presses a kiss to your temple as you reach the top floor exiting and are immediately bombarded by loud confetti cannons go off as you both turn the corner.

“Surprise!” A chorus of people shocked to see so many people there, your family, college friends, coworkers, actor friends, and people from all aspects of your life. The entire place is decked out in decorations, an open bar, and a DJ playing your favorite songs. There’s a cheesy grin on your face spotting Pedro beside Oscar Issac with party blowers in their mouths. A good portion is reuniting with people you haven’t seen over music and drinks, finally making your way to your core group. Bella practically tackles you with a hug most definitely a few drinks.

“Happy birthday gorgeous,” They cheese and you return an exactly as bright one.

Pedro quickly gives a bear hug pressing a kiss to your temple. “Happy birthday chiquita.”

Bella claps their hands, “Wait picture!” they pull their phone out and you roll your eyes striking a peace sign while Pedro gives a kissy face. Paul stands beside Bella laughing at your antics. The beginning of ‘Thinkin' Bout You’ by Frank Ocean comes on and you grin.

“I love this song,” You start dancing but Bella shakes their head.

“No hold still the last one was blurry,” Holding up their phone you return to your pose with Pedro, how you didn’t spot the mischievous looks on their faces until it was too late.

“A tornado flew around my room before you came,” Frank Ocean's live voice comes through the speakers and your jaw drops. Immediate laughter from them and cheers from those around you as you whip around to see the DJ booth behind you. “Excuse the mess it made, it usually doesn't rain in South California.” There he was in all his glory Frank fucking Ocean singing at you.

“Holy Shit!” You scream fangirling at this point. You cover your face with your hands in shock, feeling someone come from behind pulling your hands down.

“Happy birthday,” Paul whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss. You’re glad he held you as you sang along, or you probably would’ve collapsed. You’re practically floating once he finishes, wishing you a happy birthday, hugging you, and taking a picture! Fourteen-year-old you can die happily now.

“How the fuck did you do that,” You ask still in awe cradling the custom birthday cocktail made for you. They had pulled out all the stops.

“Pedro cashed in a favor to Omar who’s friends with him,” Paul says and you spot Pedro over with his singer friend Omar Apollo who is speaking to Frank.

“Paul this is insane…like this has to be the best birthday ever.” You say.

Oscar comments in passing, “Better than your twenty-first?” That makes you burst out laughing. The infamous 21st birthday was one in the history books even if you have zero memory of it, only videos and photos serve as it.

“Seriously this is ridiculous. I love you so much.” You kiss him and he doesn’t reject answering it in kindness.

With more music and drinking the party was well celebrated but soon winded down with your core group and family there. You were sorting through the gifts received as music plays.

“Shut up P, the fuck is this?” You laugh holding what looks like a bouquet but instead of flowers, it is gift cards taped onto sticks.

“A bouquet of gift cards duh,” He says while sipping his beer, “All your favorite places from father number 2.” That makes your parents laugh and your father claps Pedro’s shoulder.

You put the gift off to the side, “Thank you, Pedro these will be gone in the week.” Paul rubs circles on your shoulder as you lean into him.

“I have something for you as well,” You look at him surprised.

“Paul you're kidding, right? You’ve already done so much tonight.” He shakes his head getting up.

“You’re my girlfriend. You think I’m not going to get you a gift. Now close your eyes” he says before heading off behind you. Bella and your sister make gagging noises and your mother shushes them.

“Paul if it’s a dog or something like that. I am not ready to be a mother,” your comments make the others laugh. Paul's chuckle comes close again and you hear the clunk of something resting on the outdoor coffee table.

“Okay open.” Opening your eyes you see a case immediately recognizing the familiar shape.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Paul teases as you frantically fumble to open the latches with your gloves revealing a gorgeous caramel acoustic guitar. Pulling the guitar out of the case someone moves it to the side looking over how beautiful it is.

“This is exactly what I wanted.” You look over at Paul with teary eyes and he swipes a stray one before it falls, “Thank you.” You pull him into a hug and you hear your mother coo to your father at the two of you.

“That's so sweet of you Paul.” She smiles as you pluck at the strings already in tune.

“Funny enough, I have something to tell you all,” you say resting the guitar to the side. A bit of nervousness crosses your face being around your closest people.

“You're pregnant.” Your sister blurts out making your parents gasp, Bella’s eyes widen, Pedro half spits out his drink and Paul chokes on his.

“No!” You see those all around you sag in relief, “I am very much not pregnant you just saw me drink all night.”

“Oh yeah.” Your sister nods forgetting that key detail.

“Like I was saying,” You give her a look before continuing, “I’ve been holding onto this news for a bit waiting for the right moment and if it was all confirmed. I auditioned for a television series and they hired me as the lead.”

“Oh sweetie that’s great.” Your mother squeezes your hand and your father nods in agreement.

“That’s amazing kid,” Pedro says and Bella nods excitedly.

Paul squeezes your arm a wide grin on his face. “That’s incredible babe.”

“What show is it?” Your sister asks those around you nodding in wonder. You try to suppress a grin as you speak.

“It’s an HBO series…called The Last of Us: Where the Wild Things Are.”

There’s a beat of silence before absolute chaos.

“We’re gonna be working together?!” Bella jumps up and down shaking a shell-shocked Pedro’s arm.

“You’re gonna be a part of The Last of Us. Oh my god, my friends are gonna freak,” Your sister screeches. Your father tries calming her down.

Your mother cries, “Oh my god honey that’s wonderful,”

Paul is just staring at you who has a sly grin across your face. “It worked out getting the guitar. I was gonna buy one to start practicing.” You shrug smugly and he just laughs shaking his head.

Your family’s reaction to the news was well-received; once it was revealed to the public, it was an explosion in media. The other projects worked on leading up to the shooting were filled with questions about this spin-off show from such a hit series. It was stressful once you got to shooting balancing being in Calgary and then flying down to California for The Mandalorian and Grogu but your team made it all possible. While you already knew some of the cast through Pedro and Bella, working on it was a completely different experience. The crew and cast were all so welcoming having these new components added to their production.

“This is weird,” Pedro says when he sees your new hair for the first time. You flash him a look. “I’m not going to be able to recognize you with your new hair.” You laugh alongside your hairstylist as she tweaks some flyaways.

“I hope you can recognize me I’m meant to be your daughter,” Craig and Neil had reached out on your opinion about dying your hair to make Pedro minus the grey aging and you had been completely on board. You weren’t concerned about getting your hair to that dark brown that would match your co-star and were honestly excited about the transformation.

“How has Paul reacted to this change? " he asks as you head to the wardrobe together.

“He likes it, definitely pushed the allegations of me being your long-lost child,” You say with a laugh and Pedro gives a concerned look.

“I don’t think I could’ve handled a child at twenty-five I could barely handle myself.” He has the most concerned look on his face just imagining being a father and you laugh.

You see two men before you one you recognize as the man you let go, Trevor or whatever the fuck his name was. The other next to him you’ve never seen but the two did look like similar brothers maybe. The revolver is aimed at the Travis guy you do know and you see the older man raise his rifle at you while the man with the gun pointed at him makes no move with his own. “I fucking told you I would kill you if I saw you again.” You hiss trying to shift your weight letting a hiss from the burning pain in your side. Thomas looks down at your side and sees your hand pressed against its blood soaking the fabric.

“You’re hurt.” He takes a step forward and your finger rests on the trigger while the other man has a clear shot at you, “Drop the gun girl.” The older man hisses and you barely glance at him as you speak.

“You’re in my fucking house dickwad don’t tell me shit.” You say before you open the chamber showing there are no bullets left, “If you’re here to get your shit back, it’s all gone or used to kill this fuckers.” You wave the empty gun to show the damaged room and the two bodies that are with you.

“Like I said before, get the fuck out of here and let me die in peace. Better yet toss me a bullet and let me finish the job.” You spat leaning your head back against the wall, waiting to hear them leave or maybe give you a way to bite the bullet.

At that moment you shift, acting as if you were bleeding out when your back seizes and you’re unable to hide the true pain.

“Holy fuck my back is seizing,” You yelp, and Pedro and Gabriel break and you can hear the laughter from the crew and camera team. “Y’all this isn’t fucking funny I’m literally dying.” You hear Craig yell cut and Pedro comes over to your hand desperately grabbing a section of your lower back.

“Jesus kid way to make us feel old as hell,” Pedro says before helping you lay down fully on the ground instead of propped up in the corner.

“You guys need to kill me I can’t deal with this,” You’re left at the mercy of Pedro who doesn’t hesitate taking embarrassing photos of you stuck on the ground that ended up as a y/n on the floor meet and greet. The internet found it very hilarious to see a picture of Pedro, Craig, and Neil all posed above you as you give a double middle finger from the floor.

With Paul working on his projects it was a bummer not having him around, especially with the time differences it was either staying late up at night to be able to talk with him briefly before you crashed or the other way around. So when he had breaks between productions he had flown to Calgary to visit you and see you in action on set. When he first saw you on set was during the fight sequence between Derek and the other boys. There were lots of pauses given this fight ends pretty bloody in the end. The SFX team dabs a bit of blood from the cut on your temple and makes sure the blood looks fresh on your knuckles.

“Awww aren’t you so pretty,” Bella coos standing beside Isabela who plays Dina while in the scene but not as active just witnessing the fight break out. Pedro and Paul stand more off to the side since he is needed in the scene. You smile at them with your split lip as they finish up your makeup letting you pop in a capsule as the actor playing Derek finishes up.

“Alright camera and sound roll,” Craig calls out from video village as you shake out your hands hoping to get the blood rushing as your scene partner smirks, “Action!”

Seeing Derek with blood pouring down his nose fire in his eyes as he holds his fists up.

“You fucking bitch!” He hisses and blood coats your teeth as you grin more sliding down your temple and you bring your fists up waving at him to come at you. With a roar, he swings a fist and you dodge landing a shot right at his kidney. A sharp gasp from the sudden pain as his hands go to grab his side not able to block his face as you drive your fist forward. The punch brings him to the ground as you pin him down your fists slamming into his face and beating the crap out of him.

He lands on the crash mat while you land behind camera taking a knee while he’s fully on his back. “Cut!” Craig calls out as the crew gets to switching things around for the new setup as you pull your scene partner to his feet. Sauntering over to Paul and Pedro off to the side as your assistant helps pull your parka at least around your shoulders keeping you warmer than the thinner coat your character wears.

“I don’t know how you like all that stunt works,” Pedro complains from his chair with Paul sitting beside him in your seat, “Makes me want to kill myself.” That draws a chuckle from you and Paul.

“I find it fun. It’s like my personal stress reliever,” You say unaware of the mildly concerned looks from Paul and Pedro.

“That sounds mildly concerning…” Paul says from beneath his scarf. Compared to most on the crew he was bundled up the most from a thick parka, gloves, a heavy-duty scarf, beanie, and probably layered up underneath.

“You all cozied up babe?” You tease and you can see his eyes roll his nose a flush to it from the cold.

“I don’t know how all of you aren’t fucking freezing,” Paul shudders as the wind blows onto the set.

“Well honestly I’m sweating from this scene so I’m protected,” You comment.

“How are you handling the New York cold,” Pedro questions.

You laugh loudly, “He hasn’t experienced it yet, currently, his attire is t-shirts and shorts. I’m surprised you even wanted to come up when it’s so much nicer back home.”

“I wanted to see you, of course, I’d deal with this cold for you,” He says, pressing a kiss gently so as not to touch the blood. You give a big smile and both Paul and Pedro grimace, “I completely forgot your mouth was bloody that was frightening.”

“Would you still like me if I looked like this?” You question.

“I think I’d be concerned why you’re beaten but yes I would still date you,” Paul confirms and you’re called back onto the set.

Whenever Paul was able to visit your spirits and energy on set were doubled. Even the day before he would arrive you’d have a skip in your step the only thing on your lips, “Did you guys know Paul is coming?” “Paul’s flight gets here in about 4 hours.” “I’m so excited to see Paul.”

It was so nice filming and not worrying about the snow as the majority of the show takes place during the winter. You had the absolute joy of meeting and working alongside the two young actresses performing the younger version of your character and Lila your half-sister. The two girls were sisters so it was plenty of fun meeting them during the read-throughs and them coming on set the first time. Your younger counterpart Haley, and your half-sister Deliah were absolute gems and the three of you grew quite attached. Even when you didn’t have shoot days coming in to see Haley, only twelve destroyed her performances and kept her occupied during breaks much to her parent’s delight. With Deliah, it was such an easy bond with this young eight-year-old playing on sets, and having lunches together. Pedro with his father figure magnet quickly pulled the two girls under his wing and his welcoming personality those kids ate it up. There was one picture you treasured during a rehearsal for the playground scene where she sees Joel again after joining her parents. Deliah has taken the rehearsal as an opportunity to play given the context of the scene. Haley had been on set that day for a costume fitting and to see her little sister, so when the crew found you, Haley, Pedro, and Deliah on a couch in a greenroom all passed out the teasing and photos pursued. Your head rested on Pedro’s shoulder with his head on top of yours, Delilah on your lap curled up into your chest, and Haley on Pedro’s side tucked under his arm asleep against him.

Some set days were better than others, especially given the topic and character development she goes through. You thought it was a skill to be able to deeply dive into these characters to create an authentic performance but sometimes it felt like a curse how it had started to take its toll against you.

“Kids go,” Joel says and Jesse and Dina nod, starting to trail away he sees Ellie look at him hesitant before she too leaves. Joel takes a step into the clearing, the crunch of snow makes you whip to face him and he raises his hands like taming a wild beast. Your chest heaves as you eye him with sharp panicked eyes. Tears stream down your flushed cheeks as you continue making that pained noise.

“I’m not gonna do anything kid,” Joel says calmly as one of your hands that grips your hair moves to your flannel clutching your collar as if it’s choking you. Joel rushes as you drop to your knees with an unhuman cry like this tidal wave of emotions finally takes over. He pries your blood hand from your hair to stop harming yourself allowing you to death grip his sleeve as you scream this gut-wrenching sound. Joel squeezes you close to his chest as your screams muffle in his coat soon it turns into a heartbreaking whimper. He has to look up to the sky to blink back the burn in his eyes holding you close to him, his hand stroking your hair to soothe you.

“It’s okay…I got you,” He says as you tremble in his hold, weak sobs and hiccups as you break down.

“Cut!” Craig calls out and Pedro pulls back and is a bit surprised seeing you’re still crying this time with your head in your hands.

“Kiddo….Chiquita,” Pedro calls out to you softly, his hand stroking your back before flashing a concerned look to Craig who quickly understands the situation.

“Let’s take ten!” He yells to the crew who look in concern at you crying with Pedro trying to soothe you but their instruction from their boss offering semi-privacy.

“Y/n you’re okay,” He whispers, “Breathe.” He forces you to notice your erratic breathing pattern borderline a panic attack. A PA rushes over with a foldout chair and some water which Pedro quickly takes. He helps guide you to sit instead of being in the cold snow, your breaths shaky but follow his calming voice. It didn’t take long for Paul who happened to be on set that day to come running over with your assistant hot on his heels. Practically skidding to his knees Paul replaces Pedro who stays by your side rubbing a strong hand up and down your back.

“Baby, what happened?” Concern in his eyes as he holds your face wiping away the tears that slide down your face. “You’re alright, you’re safe with all of us.”

“I’m sorry,” You hiccup, swiping at your face and smearing some of the fake blood on your face. Your breathing had significantly calmed still a stutter with each inhale, “Oh my god this is fucking embarrassing,” You curl up into the chair and the three people around you immediately disagree with your comment.

“Stop it you just got in your head a bit, you’re alright,” Paul reassures you, cracking open the water bottle for you, helping you take a sip until you take over drinking to hydrate yourself. Paul nods to your assistant and they head over to speak to Craig and the team. “You’re okay baby, take your time.”

“I thought you were crying because my acting was that bad,” Pedro comments and that makes a smile cross your face and a light giggle. His hand squeezes your shoulder, “Take your time kid until you’re ready. You nod grateful for them and the crew. After a minute or so of drinking enough water that you don’t feel dehydrated, you nod letting them know you were good.

Craig comes over, “Are you good to go? We can give you more time.” You are grateful for his concern and you shake your head.

“Thank you but I’m good to go, I’m so sorry for that I just got so far in my head for the scene,” You apologize and Paul shush you while Craig gives you a look.

“Don’t apologize, we wanna make sure you’re good. It’s a complex role I can understand getting that deep in that headspace.” He says before heading to the crew as they prepare.

“Are you sure you’re good,” Paul looks you over, swiping away stray tears at your waterline.

“I’m good I’m sure thank you,” You promise him and he nods, pressing a quick kiss letting you know he was there for you.

“I love you,” He says and you respond in kind. Paul heads off camera though staying near in case you needed him. Both you and Pedro return to the ground and he squeezes your shoulder as a reassurance before you two hop back into the emotional scene.

You and Paul sit at one of the lunch tables watching Haley and Deliah being chased around by Pedro. The two young girls squeal as they weave through tables too fast for him as he takes breaks to catch his breath.

“Jesus Christ they’re fast,” Pedro hunches over his hands on his knees as Bella laughs from their seat. Delilah rushes over to you and Paul.

“Hide me!” She yells and you let the two girls crawl underneath the table hidden behind your knees as Pedro comes over with a playful look.

“Hmmm, I wonder where Haley and Deliah are..” He stalks by your table and you can hear the muffled giggles from underneath.

“I guess I have to take Y/n hostage!” He grabs you and you play into the bit getting up from the table.

“No! Someone help me!” You fight against Pedro as he laughs like an evil villain and you hear a faux gasp from Paul as the girls pop up from under the table.

“Y/n!” They cry out rushing over to save you. Haley jumps onto Pedro’s back and he acts like it wounded him deeply while Deliah pulls you away.

“Oh no you defeated me,” Pedro closes his eyes and Haley rushes over to you.

“We saved you!” The two cheer and you smile dropping to your knees letting the two girls hug you.

“Oh my heroes what would I’ve done without you!” You praise them and the two girls are already thinking up a new game when their mother calls for them to lunch. They groan that the fun is over but listen rushing over to their mother yelling goodbyes to you all. Returning to your table Paul has a very gentle look though his mind is a bit elsewhere.

“All good?” You ask leaning against him and returning to your food and he nods, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Yeah, you’re just good with kids.” He says and you smile up at him. You were always good with everyone but seeing you, especially around children or younger fans you have such a light to you. Speaking at their level instead of above them willing to talk about what runs through their active minds. Any other person wouldn’t sit and have an hour-long discussion with an eight-year-old about what crayons would look best for their picture but you would.

“I always liked kids. Even as a kid I also wanted a younger sibling to look at so I always loved spending time with my younger cousins or my friends’ young siblings.” You hum taking a sip of your water, “I’d want them someday, they would be so cute as babies then growing up I would spoil them rotten.”

When you talked about children he pictured you as an amazing mother, teaching your kids to respect others but also themselves, nurturing and loving them with everything in your being. As he pictured these kids running around they shared a mixture of features from both you and himself. Would they have his eyes and your hair, maybe your smile but his humor?

“You’d be a good mom to them.” He says and that makes your insides all warm as you press a kiss to his cheek.

“You’d be a good dad to them too.” He looks at you in a bit of shock, surprised that you imagine that life. With the kids and raising them but with him as their father. A smile grows on his face and you laugh at the flush that crosses his face.

“I think we should have two.” He says with all seriousness and you laugh out loud in shock but he keeps pushing, “Keep it even so one is too lonely and three is an uneven number for everything.” He had thought this all out for your imaginary family together.

“Christ Paul I’d need a ring first before even thinking about a kid.” You chuckle keeping the air light but he just nods at you, his face sincere but certain.

“I can do that.”

[riiwriting]

Another Year | Lucifer (Obey Me)

summary : after a big, rowdy birthday party that you were not expecting, you end your birthday the way you really wanted to -- getting the eldest brother to open up.

a little blurb based on your year 2 birthday call from luci in the og game! based on the original dialogue, though it won't be exact.

warnings : none! just a lot of fluffs hehe

You silently thanked the stars as you fell backwards against your mattress, your eyes immediately shutting around a pounding headache. You were so genuinely grateful to see another birthday come and go in the Devildom, but you were undeniably exhausted. You loved the boys, and you loved how much they had grown into showing their affection for you, there was no doubt about that. However, it would be nice if once in a while they asked before doing things.

For the second year in a row, your birthday was celebrated with a surprise party at the House of Lamentation, complete with decorations, am esteemed guest list of your favorite people, and a cake baked by Barbatos himself. While the effort was most definitely appreciated, it still wasn't how you would have chosen to celebrate the day.

Since you first arrived in the Devildom, it was rare that you saw an uneventful day. If Mammon and Asmo had taken a moment to consult you before going into full party-planner mode, you would have told them as such. Of course, such wasn't the case, and you ended up having quite an overstimulating evening. Though you did manage to have fun throughout the night, you were extremely happy to be in bed.

You were just beginning to feel yourself drift off when your D.D.D began to buzz on your pillow. Unintentionally, you let out a groan as you peeled one eye open to glance at the glowing screen. As soon as you recognized the contact photo, your expression brightened, and you found yourself immediately regretting your temporary annoyance. You hit answer, a content smile on your face as you pressed the speaker to your ear. "Hello?"

"MC, hello. I'm sorry my brothers caused yet another ruckus this year," Lucifer was immediately apologizing, his deep voice quiet in your ear.

His consideration made your stomach flutter. A year ago, you would've convinced yourself that he was just seeing it as his duty to make sure you're surviving in the Devildom. Now, you knew better. "I am a bit tired, I won't lie to you," you admitted bashfully.

Your words were met by a sigh, "I apologize. They went a bit overboard this time." After a moment of contemplation, he added, "I'll make sure to scold them accordingly tomorrow."

You couldn't help the slight laugh that left your lips. "Oh please let them be, Luci. It was a nice party, really. The effort was nice," you insisted, feeling a bit guilty. The thought really was what mattered, and the boys went to great lengths to make the night special. The last thing you wanted was for them to feel as though they had done something wrong.

Lucifer hummed, before conceding with a begrudging promise not to mention it. You enjoyed a comfortable silence as Lucifer apparently shifted about his room on the other end of the line. Just as you felt your eyes begin to lid once more, his throat cleared, and his voice returned. "I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday again. I admit I'm quite happy we got to celebrate another of your birthdays together," he admitted sweetly.

A smile naturally curved onto your lips as you quietly thanked him. "Of course," he responded quickly, and if you could see his face, you imagined his cheeks were, by this point, probably a bit flushed. "I'm sure humans get to celebrate far fewer birthdays than we demons do."

The thought brought a twist of fear to your chest. Being here, it was so easy to forget about your mortality. Other than Mammon's casual insistence on calling you "his human," it was easy to ignore the fact that you didn't really belong here at all. And yet, here you were, and after two years and two wonderful birthdays, you couldn't imagine wanting to be anywhere else.

"I've loved spending my last couple of birthdays here," you told Lucifer, your eyes closed as you snuggled further back into your pillows. "Even with the parties."

Another low chuckle drifted through your D.D.D. as Lucifer took in your words. "I feel very lucky to have gotten to spend not just one, but now two birthdays with you," he gushed, the admission the most open you had heard him in a while.

Before you could sort out what to say that would be just as meaningful, he surprised you again. "If possible, I'd like to celebrate many more of your birthdays in the future," he murmured. There another brief pause, before his gravely voice returned soothingly to your ears. "If we do get to spend your next birthday together, perhaps I can see that it's a bit more relaxing for you. More special."

You weren't sure if it was the exhaustion beginning to seep into your bones, or the way his voice sounded in the silence of the night, or your sudden realization of how short your time here might really be, but a spark of confidence lit up your chest. "Do we really have to wait a year for that?" you asked quietly, your sleepiness evident in your tone.

There was a very brief pause, ended by Lucifer saying, "It's getting rather late, MC. You said yourself that you're tired, you should get some sleep."

You hardly gave your next words a thought before they were tumbling out of your mouth, "Is that not something we can do together?"

This time, there was no pause. "I'll be there in a moment, then," he said curtly. The call dropped before you had a chance to respond.

Turning on your side to face your bedroom door, you waited patiently for the forty seconds it took for him to reach your end of the hall. There was a light knock on the wood, though from the way the door immediately creaked open, you knew it was more a formality than anything. The light from the hall illuminated a familiar physique, clad in nice blue pajamas and a messy bedhead. "MC?" Lucifer spoke quietly into your room, his gaze falling onto you almost immediately.

Rather than respond, you simply stretched your arms out in his direction, wordlessly inviting him into your embrace. He wasted no time in letting the door click shut behind him before taking a few long strides to cross your room. You shuffled over to make space as he peeled back your blankets and slid between the sheets beside you. Immediately, his arms were around your waist, holding you tightly against him. As soon as your head found a comfortable place on his chest, you felt his entire body relax.

You couldn't help the sigh of contentment that left your lips. "Perfect," you murmured dreamily.

Gentle fingers traced up and down the length of your arm, making it increasingly harder to resist the sleepiness rising behind your eyes. "You are, yes," you heard Lucifer murmur into the top of your head. "I hope you've had a nice birthday."

At his words, you tipped your chin upwards, dragging your eyes open to look up at the handsome demon in your bed. "The day was nice," you responded. Then will a small smile, you added, "but this has made it much better."

Lucifer's smile grew to mirror yours, his eyes drifting as he admired every inch of your face. "I'm glad I could make your birthday special," he responded softly, his fingertips moving from your arm to your cheek. Delicately, you felt his thumb brush down the outline of your face before coming to a stop beneath your chin. You leaned into his touch, a change in body language that he read perfectly.

Your eyes slid shut as he pulled you closer, eliminating the little bit of space left between you. When his lips met yours you melted, your fingers gripping the silk fabric of his open pajama shirt. With one of his arms wound around you waist, he held you as though he was afraid you might disappear. After a moment, you pulled away, opening your eyes to see Lucifer's affectionate smile.

"Happy birthday, my darling," he whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead. "Now I think we could both use some rest."

Humming in agreement, you snuggled into him and let your eyes drift shut. With his arms around you, and your weight pleasantly pressed against his body, each of you slept better than you had all year.

[flwrkid14]

I was reading the two posts about Tim's Christmas list, and just thought of the Bat Family noticing how happy Tim is.

Maybe Damian sees the new brushes and asks why Tim has Stephanie's things?

"Oh no, those aren't her's. They're mine. Danny got them for me cause they were on my list. I've needed a new set for a few years, but I only remember when I'm on a mission and needs to use them. Isn't he so sweet? And he got me really good quality ones, too!"

Or Jason mocking Tim for finally getting new hoodies. And instead of huffing or quipping back, Tim just brightens. Smiling in a way Jason's never seen.

"Danny got them for me! They're so soft. There's some of my favorite gifts from him! It's honestly nice to have new clothes that aren't formal. I'm so happy he read my list." And kinda just bounces away.

Maybe Bruce asking if Tim finally got new cups for his office?

"Danny's so sweet, isn't he? He found my list for Christmas and decided to get me a few mugs and thermoses. It's great I don't have to worry about accidentally cutting my mouth open again." 😊

Or Stephanie (who was injured on patrol and Tim's Nest, with apartment on top, was the closest place she could get to.) commenting on the fact that Tim has a lot of blankets, pillows, and plushies.

"Danny got them for me for Christmas I love how soft and warm everything is. He even found a plushie of a sleeping ghost! It's weighted, has a heating feature, and is made of glow in the dark fabric. Matter of fact, almost all the plushies and blankets he got me were weighted! Just like I had written on my list. They make me feel so loved. After all, he wants me to feel warm and safe, what's more considerate than that?"

Cass looks for Tim, knowing he's staying in the manor overnight because of a gala the next day. She hears music coming from the bathroom, but the light isn't on. So she goes in to turn it off, just in case Tim accidentally left it on. Only to see that there is a light on. A music box made to look like a record player spinning a vinyl, projecting blue light to look like you were underwater. Tim was in the bathtub, with the music box on the rim.

After the kerfuffle of them realizing Cass walked in on Tim taking a bath, and Tim getting dressed quickly, Cassandra asks him where he got it? It's cute and sounds really nice.

"Oh, it's a gift from Danny. He gave me it for Christmas. He knows I like cute things like that. And it's nice to listen to. He even got me this cat eared fluffy hairband for when I do my skincare or makeup! So cute, right?" 🥰

And slowly, all of them realize they never got Tim what he wanted. They try to justify it by saying he put tech on the list, but they look back through past lists and realize Tim changed his list because no one ever got him what he put on the list.

omg, I love your take on my posts! Your writing is so good! And you're absolutely right—the batfamily realizing their oversight and coming to terms with is such an interesting angle to explore! I like the way you went about it, especially all the times Tim kept mentioning the items were from his list!!

That said, I also wanted to address something that a lot of people were frustrated about when reading my original post.. many were upset with the family for not reading Tim’s list, wondering if they lost it or ignored it on purpose. I realize I didn’t provide enough context on my post for how the list actually functions!

The christmas lists in the batfamily aren’t necessarily meant to be followed to the letter—they’re more of a reference in case someone doesn’t know what to get. For example, Damian���s interests are pretty well known (art supplies, things for his animals, weapons), so most of the family can buy him something without needing to check his list. But for someone like Alfred or Bruce, where their preferences might be harder to pin down, the list serves as a guide.

With Tim, the family assumes they already know what he likes. They don’t think they need to check his list because, in their minds, they already understand him. So they keep giving him things they know he uses—cameras, electronics, hard drives—without realizing he already has more than enough. It’s not necessarily neglectful; it’s just a blind spot.

Danny, on the other hand, actually looks at the list. Not only because he wants to get Tim the best gifts possible, but because he lives with him. He sees what Tim already has in abundance and what he’s been meaning to get for himself but keeps putting off. That’s why his gifts are so thoughtful—he pays attention in a way the others don’t.

I hope this explanation helps clarify things for those who were confused or frustrated!!

[dcdreamblog]

Hey there. I recently moved to Gotham for job related reasons. Thought I had a pretty good handle on the whole hero and villain thing down here, the Bats and their various enemies are the only ones anyone seems to talk about anyways.

So imagine my surprise when one day I'm driving back home and something that I can only describe as some kind of yellow and red demon lands right on top of my car hood before getting back up and leaping into the sky. look up and see what I think were some other ugly monsters or something firing down some magic stuff at em.

Got back home as quick as I could after that, asked a few guys I know at work what the hell it was about but they got nothing, but one of em pointed me to your blog. So Historian, you happen to know anything about yellow and red demons in Gotham?

First off you should probably contact your insurance about the car. Unlike the jokes made by people who don't live in superhero cities, or the fearmongering of idiots, insurance DOES cover "acts of superhero" especially if you live in Gotham. If they give you a hard time, reach out to the Thomas and Martha Wayne Foundation. Bruce Wayne LOVES thumbing his nose at oligarchs in these sorts of situations. As for the demon you saw, you are VERY lucky you only got a glancing blow from whatever the hell Etrigan got wrapped up in this week.

(A CCTV image showing Etrigan bursting forth from a burning warehouse)

Now you'll have to forgive me I only took a few occult related classes in college for my degree and my knowledge of the Arthurian Period is limited to how it intersects with my specialties but the basic rundown is this. Etrigan is a demon. Like from Hell (or some version of the Christian vision of same, how you feel like dealing with this information is down to your personal theology). He's on the higher rank of mid class demon from what I know, not any kind of ruler, lord or arch but a caste of warriors known as "Rhymers" (due to their distinct habit of every statement they utter having to be rhymed). (All of the information below has been run past my occult colleagues, I have those now, to make sure I am not summoning anything or offending anyone who would want to turn my intestines into snakes) Etrigan was something of a Monkey King figure, born as first son to the Arch-Demon Belial and the Serpent Queen Ran Va Daath he was too powerful to control even for Hell's bureaucracy and so he was placed under the control of the mortal wizard Merlin (who is his younger brother, long story, go read a grimoire). It was during the Fall of Camelot that Etrigan was bonded to the dishonored knight Jason Blood, I actually already did a dive on that some weeks back. Blood and Etrigan have been stuck together for the following millennia, Etrigan's instincts as a born engine of destruction kept in check by Jason Blood's honorable character meaning that most often the Demon has been set against creatures of his own domain in defense of mankind. Blood currently works as an Occultist in Gotham though he's very much a jet setter and can be spotted just about anywhere in the world there's mystery afoot. The advice I would give is DO NOT seek out any more information about this in person. If ANYTHING was left on your car (blood, fangs, scales, scraps of cloth) that you KNOW come from Etrigan or the other demon or can't otherwise identify. I have been tasked with giving you some instructions by my said occult colleagues. 1. Gather up as much of the mass of the object as you can.

2. Burn it, if you are religious, pray while you burn it. In fact, praying during every step of this disposal process couldn't hurt.

3. Gather up the ashes, wrap them in a burlap sack tied off with a leather cord (yes the material is important).

4. Place (DO NOT THROW) the bag beneath the current of cold, running water.

5. Wait for any bubbles or any motion within the bag to stop, anything that's drowning in there is not your responsibility.

6. Gently release the bag and do not take your eyes off it until it either hits the bottom or vanishes from sight.

7. Scoop up the water in a metal container with your RIGHT hand

8. Douse the spot you picked up the material from with the water. Do not touch, sit on or otherwise interact with the spot until the water has naturally dried.

9. If at ANY POINT these processes do not go as planned. If you notice signs of your car or home being rearranged without your knowledge. Or otherwise sense anything amiss, contact a licensed occultist from www.Shadowpact.org and follow any further instructions TO. THE. LETTER

10. Make a mental note that you do NOT fuck around with magic. Magic is NOT a joke or a scam. And the people who deal with magic are VERY well educated in how not to get themselves killed. YOU ARE NOT.

[saffusthings]

chapter 3: welcome to new york

ceo!oscar piastri x reader

summary: the one where she becomes his favorite investment.

word count: 1.2k (sorry it's short i just wanted to get something out)

two | three | four

Y/N had done her homework.  

McLaren's legal team was woven into the company’s decision-making in a way that most firms didn’t bother with. They weren’t just paper-pushers—they were fixers, strategists. That meant they needed more than someone who could recite legal frameworks. They needed someone who knew when not to use them.  

Time to find out if she was that person.  

The conference room was all glass and clean lines, built to impress without feeling ostentatious. Three people sat across from her: the head of legal, a senior compliance officer, and, unexpectedly, Oscar Piastri.  

His presence was a variable she hadn’t accounted for. He wasn’t legal. He wasn’t even directly involved in compliance. He wasn’t supposed to be here.

But he was here, which meant he had a reason.  

The head of legal, a petite woman named Susie, didn’t waste time. “Miss Y/N, your qualifications are strong. But we’re looking for more than someone who can process contracts. We need someone who understands how to think in this environment, someone who can be meticulous and strategic.”  

It wasn’t a question. It was an invitation.  

Y/N didn’t sit forward. Didn’t rush to fill the silence. She let the space breathe for half a second before responding. 

Think.

“That makes sense,” she said. “The legal team in this firm doesn’t follow a traditional structure. You don’t come in after decisions are made—you’re in the room when they are made. Preventative, not punitive. That means the job isn’t just about knowing the law. It’s about knowing how people work.”  

Something flickers oin Oscar’s expression—just for a second.  

The compliance officer folded his hands together. “Let’s test that. Say one of our major partners starts signaling that they’re reconsidering a deal. What’s your first move?”  

A classic misstep would be jumping straight into legal countermeasures—contracts, penalties, leverage. But that wasn’t the real question.  

Y/N exhaled lightly. “That depends on why they’re hesitating,” she finally responds. “If I don’t know that, I don’t know my leverage. Are they looking for better terms? Are they under pressure from stakeholders? Are they trying to bait a response? If we don’t get that right, the best legal argument in the world won’t matter.”  

A small, satisfied nod from the head of legal. The compliance officer’s mouth twitched slightly, the closest thing to approval she’d seen from him so far.  

But it was Oscar who finally spoke, his voice mild. “So your instinct isn’t to push back,” he said. “It’s to listen first.”  

Y/N glanced at him. “Pushback without information isn’t strategy,” she said simply. “It’s noise.”  

Something shifted in the room. Nothing obvious, just a slight recalibration. 

The rest of the interview followed the same rhythm. They didn’t ask her to list off laws or recite policy. They threw her into scenarios and watched how she worked through them. When to be aggressive. When to hold back. When to let someone else show their hand first.  

By the time she left the room, she didn’t need to be told she had the job.  

The official offer came two days later. A starting position in McLaren Ltd.’s legal department, with competitive pay and flexible terms. She read the contract twice, her legal brain picking through every clause, before finally accepting.

Logan was over the moon when she told him. "I told you, Y/N! They’d be stupid not to take you."

She rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the small smile. "Don’t act so smug."

"I will act smug," he shot back. "And I better get a free coffee out of this because I definitely made this happen."

Y/N adjusted the cuff of her blazer as she stepped into the McLaren Ltd. offices for her first real day on the job. The weight of the security badge clipped to her lapel felt strange—too official, too stuffy, too real—but she squared her shoulders and ignored the feeling.

The morning started with HR paperwork, a brief introduction to company policies, and a tour of the legal department. Her workspace was a sleek desk nestled within a glass-walled floor, surrounded by associates who looked both competent and busy, which was a relief. She could handle high expectations. It was incompetence that frustrated her.

At exactly 10:00 AM, she found herself seated at a long, polished conference table for her first department-wide meeting. The room was filled with lawyers, compliance officers, and legal consultants, all dressed in crisp suits and holding expensive pens like they were weapons. They chatted in low murmurs, trading case updates and office gossip as they waited.

Then, as if someone had flipped a switch, the energy shifted.

Oscar Piastri entered the room.

He didn’t demand attention, not in the way executives usually did. He didn’t speak loudly, clear his throat obnoxiously or make some overt show of dominance. The Australian walked in with the assured presence of someone who knew he didn’t need to prove himself. The room took notice of him without him having to ask for it.

Y/N, despite herself, took notice too.

“Morning,” Oscar said, voice even, scanning the room as he took his seat at the head of the table. “Let’s get started.”

The meeting was efficient. Discussions revolved around ongoing contracts, regulatory concerns, and a few high-profile negotiations that were still in flux. Y/N listened, absorbing the dynamics of the team—who spoke with authority, who hesitated before making a point, who seemed eager to impress.

About halfway through, a compliance officer brought up an issue regarding a breach-of-contract dispute with a European partner. The conversation volleyed back and forth between the senior associates, each offering half-formed solutions but never quite landing on anything concrete.

Y/N leaned forward slightly, running her finger along the spine of her notebook.

She wasn’t supposed to speak.

Not yet.

But the gap in their argument was glaring, and waiting for someone else to point it out felt like a waste of time. She hates awkward silences. No wonder they’re used as an interrogation method, she thought to herself. I’m this close to singing the national anthem if that’s what it takes to break the silence.

Finally, she had had enough. “The dispute clause in the original contract—does it specify arbitration or litigation?”

The room quieted just enough for heads to turn in her direction. A few of the senior associates blinked, as if only now remembering she was there.

Was she supposed to raise her hand or something?

The compliance officer - a young man named Alex, she’d learned - frowned. “Litigation, I believe.”

Y/N shook her head. “If that’s the case, then the jurisdiction issue isn’t as complicated as you’re making it out to be. If the contract was signed under UK law, their enforcement options are already limited unless they’re willing to pursue this through a European court, which isn’t in their best interest given the legal fees and delays.”

A brief silence.

Susie - the head of legal she’d met during her interview - exhaled sharply, a nod of reluctant approval in her expression. “She’s right. If we lean into that, we have more leverage in negotiations.”

A few murmurs of agreement followed, but Y/N didn’t let herself relax just yet.

Instead, she flicked her gaze toward Oscar.

He was watching her, unreadable as ever, his fingers lightly tapping against the table. He hadn’t said much throughout the meeting, but now, he tilted his head ever so slightly.

“Good catch,” he finally said.

He moved on without another word.

But the weight of that single acknowledgment lingered in the air longer than anything else.

a/n: feedback feeds this monster! pls drop comments if you want the next chapter faster (or if you don't)! bonus point if you understands the reference in the summary ;)

[softpascalito]

I To Dig a Grave I Chapter 7 I

Summary: Twenty-one years after the outbreak, you come to Wyoming looking for something and end up in Jackson after a stranger saves your life.

But he doesn't stay a stranger.

Turns out Joel Miller is looking for something too. It feels like a fresh start. But when bad luck seems to follow you, Joel is the only one to turn to, forcing both of you to confront your feelings about your pasts- and each other.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 29k+ Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Smut, Explicit Content, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Chose not to use Archive Warnings, Tags to be added

AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist // Playlist // ko-fi

notes: everyone be safe this year ♡

this fic will deal with heavy topics. please note that it doesn't use archive warnings and tags will be added as we go in order to avoid spoilers. each chapter will have detailed warnings in the end notes on ao3.

Chapter 7 – The Ceremony Part 2

‘I feel that I want to be forgiven, that I want her to forgive me. But I do not know how to state my crime.’

— James Baldwin, Giovanni's Room

The church is filled with more people than you even thought lived in Jackson. The front row is occupied by Mrs Moss and a woman that keeps patting her back reassuringly. Next to her, you make out Cat among a few of Lane’s friends, two or three others that you know played important roles in her life. She got to Jackson years before you, having spent most of her teenage years with the community and, evidently, having left quite an impression. The two seats on the very right are yours and Joel’s. He is anxiously perched on his, his fingers tapping the wood below him as he keeps his focus on you.

The rows behind him are filled with more friends, acquaintances, the others that help out at the school. And behind them are children. Seemingly all the children of Jackson, the ones that have been told off a million times for talking in class or not doing their homework by both Lane and you, are sitting in their finest clothes, staying still and quiet, somber expressions on their small faces.

It hurts more than anything else could.

You finish taking stock of the audience by letting your gaze fly over the last rows—and those standing behind them, for the lack of space. You see Maria and Tommy, him sending a reassuring nod your way before you both turn your attention back towards the priest, who is finishing up his speech.

“The only thing we can do is keep the memory and spirit of Lane alive. We will now hear a few words from those who knew her best. And I ask you all to listen and remember her, not for how her story ended but for who she was before.”

A short nod from the priest towards you is followed by the walk up to the small podium that seems to last a very long time. You’re painfully aware of the eyes on you, eyes that have not seen you since you’ve been carried through the town in Joel’s arms a few days ago. This too, seems much further away than it actually is.

You place the neatly typed sheets of paper on the podium and take a deep breath.

***

Joel doesn’t leave your side the entire way to the graveyard. The wind has picked up again and the gray sky promises that more snow is on the way. You’re walking just behind the front of the procession made up of Mrs Moss and a few people around her. You would’ve been very content to stay a bit further behind—it makes you feel exposed to have so many pairs of eyes following your every move. How many of them believe you didn't know about this? How many will go home and whisper about Lane behind closed doors, saying that they saw it coming. How could anyone?

The grave is outlined, even if not dug. A small wooden cross has been erected where the headstone will be eventually. You can barely bring yourself to watch as the priest places the wreath in front of it. It’s beautifully crafted, decorated with a black ribbon in the front. For a second, you forget what it symbolizes and instead just stare at the flowers. You’ve never known you could find so many colors in the Wyoming winter. There is purple and yellow—and blue. Hydrangeas and bluebells, trailing all around the twigs that hold the wreath together.

The words of the priest bring you back to the reason you’re staring at the flowers and immediately, their beauty is lost on you.

There is no ritual, no petals or earth. With no grave, you can’t help but feel there is no way to say goodbye. The cross is just a piece of wood, carrying Lane’s name and the two dates that mark the span of her life.

It’s not a very long one.

Joel steers you through the crowd, people occasionally giving you a small, sad nod. You try not to look at them for more than a few seconds, tired of the look they all have. The same face, the sad somber eyes, the same pat on your shoulder. You’re glad when you reach the town hall, the tables decorated with the same flowers you’ve just seen placed on Lane’s grave. It kills whatever appetite you try to pretend to have.

There is cake, mostly homemade, a few women and men still shuffling around the tables, trying to find a place to squeeze in their baked goods. Just like in the church, it feels like the whole town is around and, slowly but surely, people grab food and drinks and settle down, their voices low and eyes cast downward.

A few of the younger people, including Cat, eventually come up to you, expressing their condolences and inviting you to sit with them. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Joel mutters into your ear for the third time and you give a small nod. “Yeah, I get along with them. I swear, it’s okay.” He only seems mildly satisfied with your response, lingering next to the table you’ve settled down at for another second.

“Just—” You lean over to him. “Don’t leave without me?”

“I’ll be around, just want a quick word with Tommy. You come and find me if you wanna leave early, okay?” He hums into your ear and you give a quick nod before watching him make his way through the crowd.

He’s a tad less touchy, with all these people around, and as you listen to the conversations around you and attempt to swallow the cake that feels much too dry in your mouth, you catch yourself longing for another cold night and a good excuse to curl up against his body and let his warmth soothe you, away from the prying eyes and the whispered conversations that seem to follow you around.

***

Joel's eyes are scanning the crowd when he finds a familiar face, one that makes his insides churn with guilt. He glances over his shoulder, checking if you still seem okay, before making his way over to a corner towards the front of the hall.

He sighs as he reaches the table tucked away there, leaning against the wall. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey,” Ellie replies quietly, her gaze wandering around the room behind them, her eyes never quite reaching Joel. Her gaze avoiding him the same way she does. He lets a few seconds pass, forcing himself to soak in the uncomfortable silence. Then, he clears his throat quietly.

“Look, I’m sorry I haven’t come by yet, it’s all been a bit—” He struggles to find the right word. It’s complicated because Lane is dead and he needs to get that into your head without ruining you, and during all that, he also needs to ignore the thoughts in the back of his own head that seem to get louder each time he feels your body pressed against his.

“A bit much,” Ellie finishes for him. She stares at her feet for a moment before looking up, this time directly at him. “It’s fine. It’s nice she has someone who looks out for her. If that’s what this is.”

Joel feels like he’s been punched in the gut. If that’s what this is?

He sucks in a breath, watching as Ellie sways back and forth, her eyes still on him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, if you look out for her, that’s nice. Unless that still includes lying, by your definition.” Her face shows that she knows it’s a low blow. Joel nods curtly, clenching his jaw for a moment. His glance wanders back to the table you’re sitting at and he half wishes there’d be something there, some sign of distress that would give him an excuse to walk away from this conversation. But there isn’t and he knows that he doesn’t deserve it either way.

“Ellie, this ain’t the time for that,” Joel mumbles, shaking his head a bit as he shifts his focus back onto her. “If you’ve got something to say about—”

“I’m moving in with Dina.”

If he’s been punched in the gut before, now Joel is certain his attacker has added a knife to the equation. It must be visible on his face because Ellie’s defiant gaze falters slightly and seems to soften a tiny bit as she watches him, no doubt waiting for the reaction to her news. For once, he looks absolutely dumbfounded, his mouth slightly open, waiting on a confirmation that he hasn’t just heard those words.

“I didn’t mean—” Ellie groans a little, moving her hands into the air. “Not right now. But we’ve been talking about it and I figured…” She gives a small shrug. “I figured you should know. Means you can have the shed and—”

“I don’t want the damn shed,” Joel blurts out. He doesn’t say that he just wants Ellie, and preferably you, close by. He gets that she wanted some privacy, more than the illusion of it in the form of a thin wall between their rooms, but having her in his backyard seemed like a good compromise. It allowed him to make sure she ate or to have breakfast at the kitchen table, the window facing the backyard and Ellie’s front door.

Joel lets out a small breath, slowly, as he nods to himself. Damage control. That’s the best he can do right now.

“The shed is yours, always. The house is already way too big for me ‘n myself,'' Joel mutters, fighting the urge to tell her that he should get some say in this, that this is a decision that they should make together. One he’d very much like to put off for a long, long time.

Joel doesn’t know how to let go because he’s never had the chance to. Everything he’s lost has been ripped away from him with violence and blood trailing behind it. Not once has he willingly given something up. So he doesn’t know how to.

He protects and holds them close until they die in his arms. And they always die.

The image of Sarah's body flashes before his eyes for a moment and Joel grabs the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white as he tries to push the thoughts away.

“Look, I think Dina is a good—you seem to like her,” Joel mumbles, glancing around to make sure they’re not being overheard. “You do … like her, right?”

Ellie makes a noise that almost sounds like a small laugh, but somehow, it only makes Joel feel even smaller. “Yeah, she’s not so bad.”

“Right,” he responds because he can’t think of what to say to that. He racks his brain for a reply that won’t immediately cause another row, something that feels impossible with Ellie these days. He distantly longs for their time before Jackson—when she hung on his every word, never quite did as he told her but stuck with him nonetheless. A tiny voice in the back of his head points out that maybe the town tucked away behind Wyoming's mountains doesn't hold such good luck after all.

Ellie’s gaze is back on the room behind Joel and she tilts her head slightly as she speaks. “You won't be completely by yourself in the house though, right? Not with her moving in.”

It's not that she doesn't like you. The few lessons of yours she attended were admittedly fairly interesting and more than once you'd brought Ellie a new book you'd stumbled upon while learning to navigate the library—usually something about space. But the one thing she's never quite understood is your relationship with Joel, why both of you have dinners and dance around each other and still never seem to get anywhere.

“She’s not moving in,” Joel clarifies, his voice straining slightly. “Look, if that’s what this is about—” 

Ellie quickly shakes her head. “It's not. I mean—it's a factor. But it doesn’t… I don't care who lives with you, Joel.”

They both know her words are not entirely true, but Joel decides to let it slide, knowing that the only thing waiting for him here is another argument. “Okay, look. You don't know what she's going through. Lane’s death has been hard on her and none of us can imagine—”

“What it's like to see your best friend die?” Ellie interrupts. Her tone isn't loud enough to stand out among the noises of the crowd around them but it still carries that hint of disappointment. “Yeah, jeez, I really can't imagine.”

Fuck.

Joel shakes his head, his fingers tapping against the fabric of his pants more quickly. “Ellie, I didn't mean—” He sighs, his gaze wandering back to the crowded room.

It's at the same moment that Joel's eyes meet yours and you take in his features, a small frown appearing on your forehead at what you see. 

He doesn’t know that he looks so incredibly tired.

***

His mind is still on the idea of being all alone in his house, of Ellie being so damn far away, when you finally leave the funeral feast, stepping out into the cold air.

“Was that Ellie with you earlier?” you ask politely.

Joel nods weakly, unable to open his mouth, unable to tell you about their conversation or about Ellie’s plans. It feels like the knife is still lodged in his stomach.

“It’s nice you two are speaking.” He’s lucky your attention is still on your own thoughts, enough to not notice the small flicker of something that dances over his face before he takes a deep breath and goes back to pretending that everything is okay. He has an idea that you feel very similar about the day. Pretending that it’s normal to be writing eulogies instead of finals.

“Your speech was lovely,” he says in a low voice, remembering how he had to pinch himself to stop the tears from gathering in his eyes.

“Thank you,” you mumble back, your gaze focused on your feet below as you leave the main street.

“I wanted to stop by the graveyard again,” you pipe up softly. “If that’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course. You wanna go now?” Joel asks carefully. The sky is still overcast, the snow piling up more and more. The town seems more bleak and cold than ever, even more so in direct comparison to the warmly lit town hall with the smell of good food and the constant hum of conversation all around.

The graveyard is empty.

The small cross and the footsteps in the snow are the only signs that someone was here. Or in Lane’s case, that someone isn’t.

As you turn the small corner that opens up to the meadow that holds around two dozen other graves, Joel carefully sneaks his arm around you, pulling you a bit closer into his side, silently vowing his support.

Your stomach drops as you get close enough to make out Lane’s name carved into the wood. Something seems to be clawing at your chest from the inside, violently attempting to find its way out of you and into existence.

A bit of snow has gathered on the cross and you reach out to wipe it off when your gaze falls onto something between the flowers below. Slowly, you bend down, trembling fingers pushing the snow to the side, only to be met with the most horrifying thing you could see placed on a grave.

It is a kid's drawing.

Two stick figures, one with blue hair, your names written underneath. A small rainbow hovers above Lane’s head, the colors just slightly off. You feel like you’re going to be sick.

You barely notice the sharp intake of breath behind you as Joel glances over your shoulder to see. His hand rubs small circles into your shoulder.

“I didn’t think they’d put them out here.”

Whatever has been inside your chest finally breaks free and with it a wave of anger like you have never known rolls over you. It settles inside every inch of you, wrapping itself around your skin, casting your body.

It moves faster than it has in days when you turn around and roughly shove Joel’s hand off you, taking a staggering step back into the untouched snow.

“You knew?”

Joel stares at you with a mix of pity and surprise. And you truly, fully hate him. For giving you that look, always giving you that look, since the first time you met. Like you’re something that’s broken, that he needs to fix.

He seems to fight to find the right words for a moment before nodding carefully, the hand that was on your back a moment ago slightly raised in a calming gesture. “They wanted to help the kids grieve. So they let them draw the pictures. Maria said—”

“I should’ve been there,” you press out, not yet willing the tears to fall that you can already feel bubbling up.

A flicker of something else flies over Joel’s face. A sternness you haven’t seen on it in a long time. “We didn’t think you were—”

“I don’t care what you think!” you roar, sending a flock of birds up in the trees flying into the sky. “I’m so tired of all of you treating me like a goddamn child!”

Joel’s face has fallen slightly and he swallows hard, raising his hand a little higher. “I didn’t mean—”

“I don’t care what you meant! None of you know what this is like so stop pretending that you understand! I never wanted this!”

“I know you didn’t,” Joel says quietly, his eyes alert and trained on you.

“You said it would all be better! You said it was so much easier and safer in Jackson, that everything would be better here! You were the one who made me stay!”

Joel just stands there, letting you yell and rage at him, and somehow, that makes it even worse. You want him to yell back, to fight you on this, to do anything but stare at you like you’re this sad thing he can’t leave. An animal that has been grazed by the bullet. Enough to hurt, not yet enough to bleed out.

“What else have you been keeping from me?!” You don’t think you even care. But now that you’ve started yelling you can’t seem to stop. Because you know that the anger is the only thing between you and the overwhelming wave of grief that will come crashing down on you the moment you allow yourself to breathe.

Joel almost looks like he wants to apologize but then his face changes and he shakes his head firmly. “I have not been keeping things from you. I’ve been protecting you.”

“I never asked for your protection!” you yell, moving a step forward to shove at his chest. It barely makes him stumble. Controlled, strong, as always. But something is simmering under his skin too. And you can practically see the moment it reaches his throat.

“Fine! The next time the kids draw pictures for you, I’ll just shove them right into your face!”

You both immediately know he’s crossed a line. Your lungs are burning, the cold air hurting your throat as your voice finally quiets down. “They drew pictures for me?”

Joel opens his mouth and closes it again, shaking his head and it suddenly becomes clear to you that he didn’t mean to say this, that you only know of yet another secret something because you’ve pushed him to a breaking point. He takes another breath, forcing his voice to be quiet when he speaks again.

“I put them below the stairs. I was gonna give them to you, I just thought it was a bit early to—”

You don’t hear the rest of his sentence, instead storming off towards the large metal gates of the graveyard. The white house on Rancher Street is not locked. The hallway seems oddly long as you hurry through it, your gaze fixed on the wooden stairs leading to your bedroom.

His bedroom, you correct yourself. You don't live here. And you surely won't after this.

The first two cupboards you open contain fresh linen that you carelessly shove out of the way. The third one holds a small plastic container that is filled to the brim with paper in a variety of colors.

There are pictures of the school, the classroom, Lane at the front. Lane surrounded by children. Lane next to someone that looks like you. Lane in the woods. There are a few poems and cards in between, each one neatly stacked in the container. There is a weathered postcard showing Flat Creek Lake.

You’re on the wooden floor of the hallway when Joel finally steps into the house. The box clutched to your chest, your body practically curled up around it.

He has been able to keep the tears at bay during your speech. He isn’t able to now. He doesn’t notice that he’s crying until the first tear slips down his cheek and he quickly uses his hand to wipe it away.

Your sobs are almost silent, your body shaking with the effort of keeping them that way.

Joel knows it’s his fault. Because despite all the arguments he’s been storing in the back of his head, he knows you’re right. He is the one who made you stay. He promised you an easier life in Jackson, watched as you trusted him and built your life here rather than anywhere else. And in return, you’d gotten two years of happiness and two pages of goodbye.

A whimper escapes your throat, weak and high-pitched, like the animal that has been grazed by the bullet is finally dying. You’re all trembling limbs and weak sobs as he carefully pries your fingers off the plastic container and sets it aside, making sure not to hide it. He’s done with that.

His back protests as he lifts you up with no support from you, no hands clutching on to him like they usually do, no arms wrapping around his torso. But you don’t fight him, which is all he thinks he can ask. He takes the stairs very slowly, careful not to trip before placing you down into his bed.

Your eyes are closed but he can’t tell whether the grief has worn you out too much or if you’re just trying to ignore that he’s there. He only lingers for a few moments, taking off your shoes and coat and spreading the thick winter blanket over you. Then, he quietly closes the bedroom door behind him and heads back downstairs, ignoring the fact that every part of his body is screaming at him to turn back, to find your trembling body below his sheets and wrap himself around you, hands sneaking over your skin.

Instead, he creates a makeshift bed for himself on the couch, kicks off his own boots and settles down, his eyes landing on his wrist. The hands sitting below the cracked glass of his watch are still, the exact way they have been for over twenty years.

He allows his mind to wander to his daughter for a few moments. Not the night of her death, not even the year. But to her first day of school, to their first Christmas, to his daughter Sarah rather than his dead daughter Sarah.

‘Remember her not for how her story ended but for who she was before.’

He doesn’t remember falling asleep.

notes: thank you for reading ♡

[fluffypotatey]

Macaque cares so much about wukong. It makes me sick

oh yeah i know 🫠 makes me so ill like

yeah

[prismatica-the-strange]

Nope, I'm still crying

[dazais-guardian-angel]

went to my first con in 4 years on Friday to meet Kaiji Tang and got a Dazai autograph + video recording of him reading to me. He was the sweetest person (as I knew he would be) and interacting with him was lovely, but also at the same time oh boy it sure was an extremely stressful, ugly wake-up call of what it feels like to live in a world now where everyone around you has blissfully moved on from covid and can enjoy things normally and happily, while you'll forever be trapped in a hellscape of perpetual fear 🫠🫠🫠

[adventuresofrose]

happy november peoples i've finally mustered up enough courage to talk to a guy who i might have a crush on

[girlivealwaysbean]

dni.

[wriokitty]

Sukuna who was never close to his twin brother and never cared about the pipsqueak runt of a kid who’s his nephew.

He doesn’t care and doesn’t want to be associated with that bullshit. His brother doesn’t take the hint ever and invites him to everything. “My sons’s birthday party” this and “my son’s kindergarten graduation” that. What sort of graduation is meant for a kindergartener anyway? That’s a load of nonsense. But Jin is as annoying as ever with insisting on keeping contact and trying to get Sukuna involved and he hates it until by some tragedy out of nowhere, his brother and sister and law are dead. Yuuji’s left an orphan and no one can care for that kid because there’s no one left.

No one except Sukuna.

They ask him, too. The social workers. They turn to him and say some pitiful script about being “the only family left to take custody of him.” He knows pretty well what’s going to happen to the pipsqueak if he doesn’t agree. The foster care system and the possible horrors such a bright (even if annoying) kid could face makes him question saying no for a second. He’s surprisingly conflicted.

And it’s out of sheer impulsiveness alone does he end up as a single, grumpy, begrudging uncle who’s got custody of a child he never really cared to know in the first place.

And then he meets you.

Sweet, bubbly, warm, and so weirdly happy. Dictionary definition of what an elementary school teacher should be. Yuuji’s absolute favorite person on the planet as he waves hello at you enthusiastically every time that Sukuna drops him off and goodbye every time that Sukuna picks him up.

“I heard his new guardian would be his uncle. It’s nice to meet you,” you murmur to him the first day he picks up Yuuji after school, a look of pure melancholy on your face as you stare at him with an unearthly amount of compassion and sympathy. “Yuuji’s parents were wonderful people. I’m really sorry for your loss.”

“Wasn’t that close with either of them,” he grunts out. You look over at where Yuuji’s gleefully playing on the slide of the playground. Too young and innocent to realize that’s been ripped away from him. Too naive to understand what it means to grieve. Too hopeful about the world around him to realize just how cruel it can really be.

“Oh,” you murmur, nodding slowly.

He thinks that your unnaturally kind demeanor will finally be broken for a split second of judgement. What sort of heartless bastard doesn’t feel an ounce of grief for his own brother’s death? Instead, however, you seem to look at him with some weird sense of wonder.

“You’re a good uncle for stepping up regardless,” you say softly, “it’s more than what most would do in your shoes.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he clicks his teeth, unbearably uncomfortable with how weirdly sentimental this all is. “He’s just a five year old. How much trouble could he be?”

You raise a brow in amusement, eyeing him like he’s got one hell of a surprise waiting for him. He doesn’t like the vague way you hum, “Yeah. How could such a little human cause trouble, right?”

“I’ve got it under control,” he grumbles, a little annoyed that you seem to think that out of all things, a simple child would be enough to cause Sukuna any issues.

“Let me know if you need anything,” you smile.

Yuuji calls to you from the distance, squealing look what I can do! before he does a rather clumsy spin. Sukuna raises an unimpressed brow. You clap and praise him with an exaggerated gasp of approval.

It’s oddly endearing, he thinks to himself—you, not the kid. The kid’s barely tolerable.

“C’mon, you brat,” Sukuna calls. And then he looks at you and gruffly adds, “And I don’t need help.”

“Okay,” you grin brightly. It almost feels like you’re saying that a little sarcastically. “I’m sure you’ve got this parent thing down.”

Before he can even correct you that he’s an uncle, not parent, Yuuji comes running over on clumsy, short little legs and grabs onto Sukuna’s hand.

“C’mon, Uncle ‘Kuna!”

Sukuna doesn’t miss the way your eyes soften. Weirdly enough, he feels this odd sort of squeeze in his chest that doesn’t make any sense. Maybe he’s just getting old—that has to be it.

[beloveds-embrace]

Idgaf abt how military works sorry yall but imagine the 141 gang having to do mandatory charity and no, not even Ghost can opt out of it regardless of how he says he’s honest to god not fucking fit to be visiting sick patients. But alas.

But they end up meeting you- frail, fragile, and sick you, no visitors around you. Though you look at them with curiosity and admiration, you keep yourself away, almost as if you don’t want to bother them.

You can’t help looking at them, though. You’ve been sick all your life- born to a mother who left you on the doorsteps of an overcrowded orphanage, left alone often and long for your body to just… fail you. You don’t think you’ve seen outside the orphanage walls and then these hospital grounds since your birth. You would be dead now if it weren’t for the CEO of the hospital taking pity on you after you turned eighteen and the orphanage cleaned their hands off you.

And so, you can’t help but envy them just a little. Strong, agile people in the military, bodies fit and healthy. Despite knowing they are always putting themselves on the line, constantly in danger, you can’t help the longing you feel. Longing you don’t realize is clear as day in your eyes.

The one to approach you first is the man you thought one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. He introduces himself as Kyle, and despite your silence- your interactions with others that are not doctors or nurses are far and few, and you are painfully shy- but he is nice. Gentle. Easily keeps the conversation going despite. He is so easy-going he has you grinning and laughing in no time. It catches the attention of a the Scot with a mohawk, who joins in by sharing even wilder stories. And then the man with the scary ghost mask, so often in their stories, comes to your little crowd. He is big, scary if the nurses’ reactions are anything to go by, and yet the only thing you’ve ever truly been afraid of is dying with a life not truly lived. So you don’t flinch or cower from him, merely ask if he has anything interesting to share with you.

The last you speak with is John Price. Captain John Price. If there is a man that can embody a bear, it has to be him. You are sure of it. Especially when you witness him smacking the back of Kyle’s head lightly after a teasing comment.

Maybe your chances of a long, fulfilling life are slim but today, just for today, you allow yourself to envision a life with them. Such a strange desire, a useless and wistful one.

“Thank you, for today.” You tell them quietly, when it’s nearing time to leave. Your hands are held in Kyle and Johnny’s, frail and weak compared to theirs. You smile at them, squeezing lightly. “I think this is the most happy and content I’ve been all my life. I won’t forget today.”

And in return? Neither will they. How could they ever forget you, the sweetheart in the hospital bed, your sickness keeping you away from the joyful life you deserve?

The won’t forget you. Not at all. And when you start receiving gifts, polaroids and letters and texts, you already know who is sending them to you.

It makes things just a little easier- your life just a little brighter.

Other works + help me choose a title for this!