#it's a Survival Game. /Not/ a Killing Game.

[charmedimsure]

Hi i like to make an request for an Nam-gyu x fem player oneshot or headcanons whatever works better with you to write with - for reader join their team cause she was once a background dancer during one of thanos shows and is loyal to him but falling for the more brutal (cinnamon roll!) Nam-gyu slowly during the games?

Shadow of Loyalty

pairing: Nam-gyu x f!reader

summary: You get dragged onto the team of a rapper you used to dance for, but you can't complain when another team member keeps giving you that cute smile.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: guns, death, drugs, blood, squid game stuff

A/N: i've been wanting to write for nam-gyu but couldn't think of anything so ty 🙏 if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

"Hey," a voice says behind you. You turn, seeing a girl with short hair standing there. She wears a choker, as well as a nose ring and lip ring. "Do you have a team yet?"

You smile at her, shaking your head. "No."

"We should team up," she says. "I'm Se-mi. What's your name?"

As you're about to tell her, you see a familiar head of purple hair in the crowd. The same head you've been avoiding for the past day.

You lower your face, bringing your hand up to shield yourself. "Oh, crap."

"Señorita, excuse me."

Se-mi turns around, as she hears the voice, staring at Thanos.

"Let's play the game together."

You shrink a bit, positioning yourself so Se-mi is blocking you from Thanos' view.

"Well, why should I?"

"Don't you know who he is?" one of the boys at his side asks. "He's Thanos, the rapper. I'm gonna kill half of humanity with my raps."

You turn your back to them, trying as hard as you can to keep the rapper from noticing you.

The other boy speaks up. "Hang on, a girl? We don't know what the game is."

"I, Thanos the great, will protect you."

Se-mi breathes out a laugh. "Right, Thanos. So have you got all the infinity stones?"

"Of course." You roll your eyes, knowing he's showing off his dumb nail polish. "I'm going to destroy anyone who gets in my way. Just stick with me and you'll be safe. Okay?"

"But I already asked someone to join me," Se-mi says. Your heart picks up.

"No problem. Who is it?"

Se-mi moves to the side and you turn, giving the rapper a tight-lipped smile and small wave.

"No way," Thanos says, a wide smile on his face. He comes up to you, throwing his arms around you. "Señorita! I can't believe you're here!"

"Woah!" the boy to the right of Thanos says, eyes wide. "You were one of his dancers, right?"

You nod, not quite making eye contact with the boy. You look up at the other one and find that he's staring at you, mouth parted slightly.

Both of Thanos' hands grab onto your shoulders, squeezing them. "This is gonna be awesome."

You look at Se-mi, seeing her give you an apologetic look. You just shrug. At least you have a team.

<>

"Please decide players for each mini-game."

You lean forward, looking at your team on both sides from your spot in the middle of the line. "I can do Jegi. I was good at it as a kid."

"I'm doing Jegi," Thanos says. "You do Spinning Top."

You grit your teeth, taking a deep breath. "I'm not good at Spinning Top."

"I can do Spinning Top," the boy between you and Thanos says.

You nod at him, a silent thank you. "I'll do Gong-gi."

"I can do Flying Stones," Se-mi says.

You nod and look past her to the boy sitting on the end. "Are you alright doing Ddakji?"

He nods, a smile on his face. "I was going to volunteer for it anyway."

You smile. "Great. We got this, guys."

<>

"The following players have been eliminated. Players 016, 045, 178, 189, 198, 254, 286, 341, 396, and 416."

A man on the other side of the room stands up. "We should have left! We're all going to die now! We're all going to die because of those who voted to continue!"

Another man stands. "What are you going to do now?! You think you can survive?! Look at them!"

You feel movement to the left of you and turn to see the boy next to you leaning toward Thanos.

"Can you... can you please give me one of those?"

Thanos eyes him up. "'Those'?"

"The thing you took. You're keeping them inside your cross."

You sigh. You're well aware of what Thanos keeps in his cross. He's tried to get you to take them a few times while you were working together. Thankfully, you always said no, not letting him persuade you into anything.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

"If I get nervous and lose the game, we'll all die," The boy's voice shakes. "My hands are shaking like crazy."

Thanos sighs. "Nam-su."

"It's Nam-gyu."

"Right. Nam-gyu." Thanos unzips his jacket, taking out his cross. "Do you know what this is?"

You lean closer, curious. Thanos never told you what they were, part of the reason you turned them down every time.

"Ecstasy? Ketamine?"

Thanos shakes his head. "It's a new kind. It's fucking crazy, man. You can't handle it."

"Hey." Nam-gyu rolls up his sleeve, showing Thanos the inside of his elbow. "I did all kinds of stuff when I was working at the club. I even brought you some when you came to the club."

Thanos opens his cross, taking out one of his pills. "You junkie." He hands it to Nam-gyu, who quickly pops it in his mouth. Thanos looks over Nam-gyu's shoulder, seeing you watching them. "Want one, Señorita?"

You shake your head. "I'll pass."

Nam-gyu looks at you, face falling as you give him a look of disapproval.

<>

The rounds kept going until it was your turn. The boy on the end, who you found out is named Gyeong-su, was able to flip the Ddakji on his second try, and Se-mi hit the stone perfectly on her first attempt.

You walk to the next mini-game, the one you're doing. You take the pieces off the table, crouching as the guard puts the table on the floor. You scatter the pieces onto the table.

Blue. Green. Yellow. Red. Purple. Good.

Purple. Yellow and green. Red and blue...

You deflate as the blue piece falls out of your grasp and onto the track.

"Seriously?!" Thanos yells. "Pick it up and do it right this time!"

You shoot a glare at him. He might not realize it, but his demeaning comments are certainly not helping.

Nam-gyu picks up the fallen piece, handing it to you. "You were so close, you can do it."

You take the piece and nod, once again focusing back on the game.

Red. Yellow. Blue. Green. Purple. Good.

Green. Yellow and blue. Red and purple. Good.

Yellow. Red, blue, purple. Green. Good.

Purple. Green, blue, red, yellow. Good.

Back of hand. Good.

You take a deep breath before tossing the pieces up, quickly grabbing them out of the air.

The pink guard puts their arms up in a circle.

"Pass."

You smile as Nam-gyu shakes you in happiness. The guard takes the small table away from you and you advance to the next mini-game.

The pink guard hands Nam-gyu the top and the string. You watch as he wraps the string. You had been nervous when he took Thanos' pill, but you have to give it to him, his control over the string is flawless.

He pulls his hand back and throws it. You smile as it spins in front of you.

"Pass."

You all celebrate before moving to the final mini-game. Thanos takes the Jegi, pushing the guard out of the way. He throws it into the air.

One kick. Two kicks. Three kicks. Four kicks.

The Jegi falls to the ground.

You huff as Thanos picks it up and throws it again.

One kick. Two kicks. Three kicks.

The toy hits the ground once again.

You can't help but roll your eyes. You would have gotten it by now had he let you play Jegi. Your high score as a kid was 27 kicks in a row. You look at the clock. You still have a minute left. Good.

Thanos lets out a yell of frustration, picking up the Jegi and throwing it.

One kick. Two kicks. Three kicks. Four kicks. Five kicks.

"Pass."

Your team jumps up and down in celebration before regaining composure. You cross the finish line with 29 seconds to spare.

You and Se-mi turn to each other, hugging as you all celebrate. You turn to Nam-gyu, who is already smiling down at you. You smile back and high-five him. At the end of the line, Thanos jumps up and down, nearly knocking you all over.

You put your arms out to steady Nam-gyu and he thanks you as the guards come over to remove the bindings from your ankles.

<>

You watch as five more people walk into the room.

"Hey," you hear a voice next to you and turn to see Nam-gyu. "How many do you think are left?"

You take a quick look around. "Maybe 200?"

"Shit," he sighs. "That's way too many."

You shrug. "I like that there's more people here." Nam-gyu gives you a confused look. "There's safety in numbers."

Thanos raises both of his arms. "Stop talking." He points at you. "How old are you again?"

You roll your eyes. "28."

"So you were born in 1996," he turns to Gyeong-su. "How old are you?"

"Born in 1998."

He turns to Se-mi. "You?"

"Born in 1996."

He thinks for a moment. "It's settled. Gyeong-su is the youngest, and the girls are the oldest." He turns to Nam-gyu. "Nam-su, you were born in 1997, right?"

"It's Nam-gyu."

"Right, Nam-gyu. Is that right?"

Nam-gyu nods.

Thanos points at you while still looking at Nam-gyu. "Hey, call her noona since she's older."

Nam-gyu chuckles. You feel a small smile pull on your lips at the sound.

Soon, the pink guards come into the room, announcing that 110 players had been eliminated in the second game. They bring out the machine for voting and everyone moves to the center.

"You're voting to stay, right noona?" Nam-gyu asks you.

You breathe out a laugh. "Yeah, but this is probably the last time." You smile at him, lightly hitting his shoulder. "And don't call me noona. I'm younger than you, just don't tell Thanos, Nam-su."

He frowns when you call him the wrong name, opening his mouth to correct you but stopping when he sees the teasing smirk on your face. He chuckles again, nodding his head.

<>

Nam-gyu watches as Thanos opens his cross, taking out a pill and popping it into his mouth. He takes a step in his direction, about to ask for one. He stops when he sees you out of the corner of his eye talking to Se-mi, laughing at something the girl is saying. With a sigh, Nam-gyu turns away from Thanos, instead moving to Gyeong-su.

You're all brought into a new room. There are doors lining the walls and a big platform in the middle of the room that looks like a carousel without any horses.

"Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle. Let me repeat. The game you will be playing is Mingle."

"Hey," Thanos says, clearly high off his ass. He turns to your group. "We'll be mingling together. Doesn't that sound like so much fun?"

You all get onto the platform and it begins spinning, a children's song playing over the speakers. The first round is ten, and you find another group of five players, getting into the room safely with ten seconds to spare.

You come out again, once again getting onto the platform. The music stops and the voice calls out four.

Thanos looks between you, Se-mi, and Gyeong-su before stopping on the last one.

"Please," the boy pleads.

"Gyeong-su, you're out!" Thanos kicks the boy to the ground. "Let's go!"

Nam-gyu stands there for a moment staring at Gyeong-su before he feels someone grab a hold of his sleeve, tugging him along after the group. He gets in the room and the door locks, you letting go of him. Nam-gyu tries to look out the slot for Gyeong-su but you pull him away. It's best if he doesn't see it.

"Wait!" Thanos holds his arms up. He points toward all of you. "Where did you leave my boy Gyeong-su?"

You give him an incredulous look, jumping when the sounds of gunfire starts.

Thanos brings his hands to his head before running towards the door and looking out the slot. "Fuck! Gyeong-su!"

You and Se-mi look at each other, both of you thinking the same thing. Thanos would have done that to any of you. He can't be trusted. Especially when he's high.

You're released and you go back to the platform. When the music stops this time, the voice announces three people to a room.

Thanos stands and looks between you and Se-mi. "Who should we take? Rock, paper, scissors!"

Se-mi turns to you, holding her hand out. "Come with me."

You nod, taking her hand. "We'll find one more, you guys do the same."

Nam-gyu nods, grabbing Thanos by his jacket and pulling him along.

Se-mi and you manage to find one more person and get into a room on time. When you come out, you look around for the boys. You see the familiar head of purple hair and smile when you spot Nam-gyu next to him.

They run up to you. You smile at Nam-gyu. "Glad you made it."

He smiles back. "Me too."

The next round is six, so you find two other players and make it to a room. When you're let out, it is announced that this will be the final round.

"Two."

Se-mi goes to reach for you, but she's pulled away by Thanos as he sprints toward one of the rooms. Nam-gyu watches as Thanos runs away, a look of betrayal adorning his face.

You quickly turn, grabbing Nam-gyu's hand and taking off toward a green door. You're able to get there before anyone else and close the door behind you, pushing your weight against it to keep anyone else from getting in.

The lock clicks and you sigh in relief, moving away from the door. You turn to Nam-gyu. "Are you alright?"

"He left me," he says, a faraway look on his face. "I've been nothing but loyal to him, and he just left me there."

You sigh, walking to him and rubbing his arm. "Nam-gyu, Thanos isn't a good person. He can't even remember your name. A person like that doesn't deserve the loyalty you're showing him."

He keeps looking at the door as the gunshots go off. He turns to you, looking at you for a few moments before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. "Thank you. Thank you for not leaving me."

You hug him back. "I'm not gonna leave you, Nam-gyu."

He sniffles. "I won't leave you either."

You pull back and see his smile. You can't help but think it's kind of cute, making you smile back at the boy, a warm feeling in your face.

Squid Game Tags: @thebiggestigurosimp @vvnbxz @lov3yy @miltzzy @l5byrinth @come-as-you-are-111 @starkeyszn @learninglinesintherainn @galactict3a @sawlover353 @jspidey5

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist

[mocchii-writes]

can you do a dae ho fic, with him being super protective and defending the reader, but she shows her own strength (maybe even saving him) and he is so star struck and falls in love immediately

She's the Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene

Paring: Kang Dae-ho x fem!reader Summary: Dae-ho felt the need to protect you, but didn't expect how starstruck he could be when you returned the favor. Words: 1k Warnings: death, guns, swearing, violence, normal squid game stuff lols A/n: I hope I didn't make this too Y/n lmao ♡ ~🍡🍡

It's definitely hard to trust people here, to say the least. You see it all, just about. The blood of hundreds stains your clothes, and the screams you’ll probably have in your nightmares feel like a fever dream. Your survival instinct can only get you so far, though, and you know it. You need to find a backup.

You expect some kind of weapon to fill the gap in your barrier. You could break a mirror in the bathrooms, maybe? It's an understatement to say the supplies are limited, and you just barely make it through the last game. You can tell you're a target. Maybe not a huge one, but everybody here has someone after them, and it's easy and difficult at the same time to be discreet here.

But it isn't a weapon you get for help--it's a man. He doesn't hesitate to help you out when you need it, and you know that he’s valuable in this setting. You call him Dae-ho. Probably because that's his name, but it still has some meaning to you. Hopefully to him, too. It feels right, rolling off of your tongue, but you digress.

He seems to care about you, at least compared to some of the heartless shells of people here. You've both found solace in each other, and he truly made you feel safe, even if you had only known each other for a few days. You talk to one another. He tells you about his life, his past. You tell him about your past, your life. It's a small feeling of comfort, at least to you.

You're snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of lights out being announced by that cold voice that makes your skin shiver. You kick your legs, sitting on a bed as you look at Dae-ho across the room. He's discussing something with his little group. He'd previously invited you to join, but you said you'd rather keep your circle small. You swing your legs, looking at his face. It's very serious, but he's pretty far away. He says something, and then you feel his eyes on you. He nods briefly at someone else as he heads to you. Your face shows concern as his serious demeanor doesn't falter.

"You need to be near us tonight, preferably in our base." You think he's joking, but you don't laugh, just in case.

""Base"?" You ask, smiling. "Why?" He rolls his eyes a bit, but you can't say you blame him. "I can handle myself." He raises an eyebrow and smiles.

"I'm not going to argue with you about that, but I could." You squint at him but chuckle. "Mr. Seong says people are going to fight tonight. He has a plan to keep us safe, and he said you can join."

"I thought we were gonna place bets." You smile. "My money is on that greasy guy who hangs out with the purple-haired asshole." He doesn't look amused, so you sigh. "How do you know he's not trying to get you killed?" You ask, dropping your egotistic demeanor.

"All he does is try to help us. Please." He says, pleading with you to have some common sense. You knew you would eventually accept, but you didn't like the thought.

"I'll think about it, alright?" He sighs and smiles a little. He knows he should take what he can get, but he hates the thought of someone hurting you.

Dae-ho isn't sure why he's taken the responsibility to protect you, but he has. He thinks of you like a flower sometimes. He can't make you take care of yourself if you don't want to, but he knows he's going to protect you anyway because everybody deserves a chance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were lost in your thoughts, breaking out when you hear the robotic voice again.

"Player 230, 401, 299, 331, and 268, eliminated."

What? How? Your eyes track the room and land on Dae-ho, who's staring at the guards, confused. You make eye contact briefly, before people emerge from the bathrooms.

They go on to accuse each other of attacking the opposing team, creating an edge in the room. You're not listening very closely, though. Maybe Dae-ho was on to something when he said you should hide tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Update: He very much was right.

But you can't really think about that because there are far bigger issues at hand.

The lights are flickering so intensely you're afraid they might explode, and there's too much yelling and screaming to organize your thoughts. People are moving everywhere like scattering ants, and everything is a weapon for everyone. There's blood, a lot of it, all over the floor. You run, but it's like playing operation with corpses. You have scrapes from falling off your bed and defending yourself as you regret acting tough to Dae-ho.

Your ears are ringing, only because of a punch you just took. Everything is moving at the speed of light, and you don't have time to catch up. You kick back and stun the other person enough to run away. You feel a hand on your shoulder as you whip around, ready to fight.

To your brief luck, it's Dae-ho. He says something you can't hear and then pushes you behind him. You almost scoff if you weren't truly afraid for your life. He punches the person following you but quickly takes one himself. You try to move him, but he blocks your entrance again. You shout to him, telling him to let you help, but he probably can't hear you. You see someone holding a glass bottle sprinting to you, and your instinct finally kicks in. Literally.

You shift to the left and swiftly kick them, stunning them enough to drop their bottle as you punch them, their head ramming against a bed frame as they slide down, eyes closed. You force yourself to look away from the small pool of blood forming and push down the sick feeling in your stomach. You look for Dae-ho, to see him still fighting. He appears to be losing, though you can't hold it against him.

You don't hesitate to pull the guy off of him, grabbing his shirt from behind and throwing him down as best you could. He sits up, but you kick him hard in the face, knocking him out. You're better at this than you thought. You see another lady running to you, screaming. You quickly pick up the discarded glass bottle and shatter it against her skull. The lights turn on as guards rush in, appearing to stop the fighting.

You pant, wiping unknown blood from your face as you look to Dae-ho. You expect him to look horrified at least, but he's simply staring at you. You tilt your head at him.

"You... handled that." He says, grabbing your arm and bringing you to his "base".

"I said I could," you smirk, "You seem surprised."

"No, I'm impressed." He laughs dryly.

That stressful moment didn’t feel like it would ever end, but it did, and you found yourself still standing. Or at least, still breathing. Dae-ho was too, which was the only thing you cared about at the moment. You leaned against the wall, your body trembling from the adrenaline. He was sitting across from you, his eyes anywhere but you.

"You're full of surprises," he says, his body seemed to hint at something softer than what his voice did.

"You thought I wasn't?" you say, a smirk tugging at your lips.

"I never said that." He pauses, looking at his hands before looking at you. "I'm just happy you're okay."

His words linger in the air for a moment, and you’re unsure how to respond. You’d only met him a few days ago, but Dae-ho had become more than just an ally. He was someone you could trust in a place where trust was a gamble most people couldn’t afford to make.

"You didn't have to stick your neck out for me," you say, trying to sound nonchalant, but your voice wavers slightly.

"I wanted to," he replies simply, as though the decision had been easy. He finally drags his eyes to look at you. "You make this mess... bearable."

You feel your cheeks flush despite the blood coating your skin. His honesty is unexpected, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. Not anymore. You’d seen too much in such a short time to waste moments of purity.

"Dae-ho," you start, but his name on your tongue makes you falter. You take a breath and try again. "I don’t know how much longer either of us will make it here, but... you give me hope in this place, I guess."

His smile is small, but it reaches his eyes this time. He shifts closer, closing the space between you two. "Then we survive for each other. Okay?"

You nod, a warmth blooming in your chest that you hadn’t felt in what seemed like years.

For the first time in what feels like forever, the world outside of this moment feels small. The chaos, the blood, the fear—all of it fades away. In its place is Dae-ho, his presence holding your soul in an unfamiliar but welcome warmth.

You're both specks of dust in a hurricane, and you both know it. But, for this moment, you know you'll have a place to rest in the heart of this chaos. You can't say you're in love, but as he gently rests his hand over yours, you can't say you couldn't be.

So, I kind of love this, lmk what you think ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

~🍡🍡

[midnite-c6]

Hear me out. Pink Guard Reader (any shape guard; triangle/square/circle) who watches the contestants of this horrendous game fight for the money that glows above them and their own survival for it. Pink Guard Reader who notices two particular contestants, Nam-Gyu and Thanos. Both of them seemingly seem to stand out amongst all the players since everyone seems to be taking these games seriously besides those two, mainly. You keep a watchful eye upon them (and perhaps, sneakily help them in some situations...maybe, saving their lives at one point...?) and it doesn't take for one of them to notice and inform the other. And they now keep a particular eye on you, and perhaps, when they see you standing alone in a certain area with your pink guard uniform and mask..IDK, PLEASE HEAR ME OUT

guys tables turned!!! tthank thank..tjanks for sharing to the class hahahahahah PURRRRR. omg the way theyd absolutely look down on u bcuz like ure the one supposed to kill them and be evil so why r u being so nice? (they take advantage of this ofc) 🫶🏻

thanos & namgyu x pinkguard!reader warnings: 18+, DARK content, dubcon

つ⁠｡⁠☆ you were just so intrigued by them! i mean, they were literally treating the games like... games. no deaths, no consequences, just fun! they were insane. you liked insane, tho. you'd even save them in the game mingle. unfairly killing other players. you wanted them to live because.. you were bored, and they kept the games fun, anyways.

it was now dinner time, when the two guys would line up for their own share of food, thanos would notice it was you! the same guard that saved them since the button on your jacket was slightly broken,, "my bro, can i get extra?" he'd press his hands together, and you'd happily give him extra because, why not? nam-gyu was just behind him, asking the same, he'd even give a polite thank you.

both of them noticed how they were the only ones getting unfair advantages, so when everyone's too busy with their food or talking to their groups, they walk up to you, as you were standing guard next to the bathrooms. you couldn't speak, since you'd be scolded to talk without permission, but the two have got nothing to lose, and they'd make it their life's goal to bother you. "pst. triangleee facee. talk to us!" thanos would poke you, his other hand occupied by the extra milk you gave him earlier. "ah, this dude's boring."

thanos would even offer the small pills inside his cross necklace, you politely decline. simply shaking your head. "do you think there's a person inside there?" nam-gyu would press on your mask as he wonders, "you're right! what if this guy is just a robot..? shiit. technology is getting good." nam-gyu would stare at you intently, trying to find something underneath that mask. he'd take his hands to touch your chest and stomach, in search of any indications on your body, of course, the touch makes you jolt. you immediately point your gun at him. "woah, woah ..my bad." he says as he puts both of his hands up. "ah, fuck dude you angered him!" they'd both laugh, and you lower your firearm. "so it must be a human." thanos would get all up in your face. "hey, tell me, man, why'd you save us?" you can't answer. "why can't you speaaak??" he was getting frustrated, clearly. you'd only turn your face to the guard with a square on his mask, signaling him as your superior. "i think if he talks, that guy would get mad." "ohhh yeah no shit, dude." and before you could react, thanos quickly pulls you to the mens bathroom, guess you have no choice but to speak now..

"there! surely you could speak now!" he exclaims and after a few seconds of contemplating, you would speak, although the voice is distorted , "that's correct."

"take off your mask then." such a straight-forward request, but you'd do it with no protest, you're just the same as them, nothing to lose. once you've lifted your mask to rest ontop of your head, you'd happily breathe in the cold air. the two stares at you dumbfoundedly. "fuck dude, your pills are starting to make me go crazy." "me too bro!!" "is it just me or are you also seeing a chick?" player 124 would rub his eyes with his hands. "what the fuuuuuuuuck." you'd only snort at their comments. "hey! you've been shootin' people , huh?" the purple-haired one would scold, "is there something wrong with that?" nam-gyu chuckles, "bet she looked hot doing it, to be honest." thanos touches your face with his hand. "you're like.. a guardian angel to us." you're embarrassed honestly, it was such an awkward moment. they'd both look at each other at that moment, reaching to some kind of decision, "hell yea, do i wanna fuck my guardian angel."

nsfw below!!-> 💘

"mmph-. god. fucking a murderer feels crazy." thanos happily blurts out in groans, as he pushes heavily inside you, putting in all his weight , balls deep inside your pussy. you couldn't moan out, with nam-gyu's cock shoved down your throat, his pace was much more abusive and mean than thanos', bruising your poor throat. they didn't even bother to go inside a stall, instead deciding to be right in the middle of the mens bathroom, where your suit was pushed to the side. they'd keep the gun slinged to your body, and your mask still slightly lifted up from your face, the mask stays on, what a hot image. the one thrusting inside your cunt was ecstatic, like he was so pent up he'd thank the gods he could put it all out inside you. "awwh.. pretty pink guard.." he would tuck your hair behind your ears, your forehead dripping with sweat. "pretty pink pussy n' all. you're so evil.." nam-gyu would also thrust far too deep, making you gag, your hands would grip on player 124's legs, letting him know that he was going too rough! and for what! "you're tough, i'm sure you can take it." and he goes even faster! it was like they were punishing you for only doing your job, not even bothering to say thank you for saving them :(

...sadly, the rules are strict when it comes to being a guard. and you've been gone for way too long, atleast you went out with a bang! literally.

I MADE THIS SO SILLY 😭🙏🏻. guys sorry mah brain nawt working LOLs but they can do it day and night every position until i learn fluent korean fr. born to ride both forced to only write and read for them😿 maybe i make masterlist after this 🤨

[paperbackribs]

"You don't get it," Eddie snarls in frustration, "you could have gotten yourself killed."

Standing by the open door of his bimmer, Steve slams it shut as he continues listening to the saga taking place in the Hawkins High parking lot.

"You don't get it," Dustin stubbornly grits out. "We're experienced, we have the slots and the hit points; we'll survive."

And Steve's not dumb. He doesn't personally want to play the game and only occasionally teases Dustin and Luke with the idea that he might be tempted to do so; but, overall, he knows that the verbal brawl in front of him is about imaginary worlds and characters.

But when Eddie leans earnestly forward, gripping one hand to each of their shoulders, Steve thinks he may be a little lost.

Eddie says solemnly, "Then every darkness will pass and a new day will come, fight boys. Fight. And you will live to see anther day."

The boys stare up at him, renewed faith and awe beaming back at the trust he shares with them, and Eddie straightens like he's won the war. Proudly, he glances across the lot only to stutter when he meets Steve's eyes, pride and embarrassment warring in their depths.

Steve drops his head into one palm. He knows he falls too hard and too fast, but even he thinks it's ridiculous at how he's just tripped and stumbled down a flight of stairs with Eddie Munson looking back at him from across the lot.

"What is it?" Eddie asks, hand on Dustin's shoulder, except Dustin pushes past and obnoxiously wipes his feet inside Steve's car before sliding in. Lucas follows with a respectable wave, "Hi, Steve." He settles in the back seat.

Eddie's mouth opens and closes, clearly faced with an unexpected outcome from his usual understanding of the world. He follows Lucas's example and waves a hand. "Hi Steve," he parrots. A beat passes before Eddie's eyes drown in chagrin, his hand lowering even as he keeps staring at Steve.

Steve steps forward. "Hi," he offers, "I'll fight. To see another day, that is."

Eddie raises his head hopefully, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Steve agrees, stepping closer, fingers grazing the back of his and thinking that fight to see another day has never sounded so sweet.

[multiplefandomsyep]

I love the yin and yang dynamics between characters and In-ho and Gi-hun are one of them.

Both of them joined the games because of the desperate situation they were in.

Both of them got back to their houses with all the money just to see that it was already too late to save their loved ones.

Both of them went with that pain and felt that the money wasn't needed anymore, it was just an empty thing because their loved ones were already gone

But here is the difference: they reacted the opposite way to lead with the pain.

While Gi-hun still had hope in people and blamed himself for everyone's death, In-ho just saw them as selfish cruel beings.

Gi-hun didn't kill anyone in the games, he was showing a good heart even at the final, when he wanted to give it up just to save Sang-woo. In-ho possibly did kill people while he was on the games to gain the money, we see he does something similar when he was on the Mingle game. (I guess, when In-ho was only a player, he was more like Sang woo, doing that for the sake to survive)

I think one of the reasons In-ho is so involved with Gi-hun is because he wants to know "why?" That simple but big word, "why didn't he end up like me? Why does he still see good in people when even him is looking on how they still vote to stay and continue the games? He did lost his loved ones, and he's still here, why?"

They are two sides of the same coin, therefore, as yin and yang does, they complement each other. Both of them having a little part from the other (In-ho having some humanity on him, seeing himself in Gi-hun and Gi-hun having this resenment towards the people that did the games "small sacrifice for the greater good"). And it's just, ugh, they are so complex.

[sonderwrit]

the short dramas in c-ent have this as a trope too

can't remember the title but i watched one with an isekai'd woman who traveled to ancient china as the older daughter of a family. she had a younger sister who married a general in their first life while the older sister was betrothed to a poor scholar, but the older sis helped the scholar pass his examinations and became matron of the family while the general died in war etc. and the lil sis was thrown out

lil sis killed big sis in a fit of jealousy before she too died (i forgot how, maybe a carriage hit her or she was thrown in jail and executed etc.) and time turned back with both their memories intact; this time lil sis insisted on marrying the poor scholar and pushed the general onto big sis.

still, big sis won cause of her hard work (and because her scholar husband in 1st life was actually crappy personality wise). she earned the respect of her general husband, helped him survive the war, and still triumphed in the end by being a graceful, support, feminine, and sensible traditional wife XD

they ALSO did a modern version of this story with big sis marrying poor computer programmer/game designer in first life who made it big and lil sis marrying cold CEO in first life whose company went into ruin; turns out programmer husband had terrible brothers + mother and abused big sis in private despite their veneer of success. lil sis didn't see this and only saw her big sis rich and successful so she stabbed big sis during an event and ran away before getting hit by a car

once again time went backwards for them both. this time lil sis fights to marry the poor programmer, convinced he'll make it big (while not knowing how much effort big sis put in to smooth the way for him) while big sis marries the CEO and charms the mother and her husband (despite him already having a sickly white moonlight in the hospital)

i like the contrast between the 2 series because big sis wins at life both times, but in different ways: in the ancient costume drama version she embodied traditional values and meshed with the people well to earn their recognition respect and later trust

in the modern world drama version she was just girlbossing her way through all the bullies hahahaha

I'm on my fourth Woman Married a Loser and Tried Her Best but Died for It and Now She's Back drama (Marry My Husband, Blossom, The Double, Perfect Marriage Revenge) and I love it, I love it, I love it. Because you can feel the feminine rage radiating from the screen. These women swallowed the lie that they were the problem in their marriage. They forgave and excused and bent over backwards just like society told them to and it didn't work. It was never going to work. In the end, nothing they did mattered and their precious lives were still seen as disposable. And now they are back and they are furious and it's great.

[howi99]

A Knight second chance 13

Qrow: *cocking one eyebrow after watching the video of Jaune and Glynda's spar* What the hell was that, kid? Didn't you say you wanted to stay low profile?

Jaune: That was the plan at first, but i'm realizing that if i want everyone to survive, they need to step up their game. And i've got something to distract both Ozpin and Ironwood.

Qrow: *pensive* I see... *Point to Roman* Is this why that weasel sitting next to you, too?

Roman: *smirk* Qrow, nice seeing you again. How's your love life going?

Qrow: *smirk back* I dunno, how was it to be beaten by my niece?

Jaune: You know each other?

Roman: *leaning back in his chair* We went to Beacon together. *Sigh* His sister was a complete psychopath-

Qrow: *Grinning* You stole her sword during your first spare against her, of course she would beat the shit out of you.

Roman: *shrug* It was funny at the time.

Qrow: *chuckle* True that!

Jaune: ... *Shake his head, refocusing on why he gathered them here* In any case, Roman, you got the information we need against Lionheart?

Roman: *placing the documents on the table* All there. He wasn't the best at erasing his trace. *Sigh* 25 mission reclassified as low danger, given to inexperienced huntsmen teams.

Qrow: *picking up the document* For fuck sake... More than 200 huntsmen were killed, how did we not see that?

Roman: Mistral is the kingdom of crime. Falsifying documents was as easy as it gets for him.

Jaune: *looking at his scroll* Welp, i gotta go.

Qrow: *frown* Why's that?

Jaune: *sigh* Miss Glynda, psychiatrist extraordinaire, is asking for immediate attendance.

Qrow: *wince* That little bout with your friend is really biting your ass, huh?

Jaune: *groan* You have no idea. *Leave*

_ _ _

At the end of the appointment

Jaune: *perplexed* Something is weird happening with Penny?

Glynda: *picking up some papers* Miss Polendina has recently been suffering from multiple nightmares. *looking at the documents* Weirdly enough, she keeps saying something about there being "Nothing" and- *looking back at Jaune who is glowing faintly* Jaune?

Jaune: *mumbling* Nothing... Nothing happened...

Glynda: *worried* Jaune, what's wrong?

Jaune: *grabbing his head* What did i do wrong!? Why was i left behind?! Because i didn't follow a script?!? *The glow starts to intensify* I just wanted to get back! I- *feel Glynda sit next to him* ... *Hug her, crying*

_ _ _

Ozpin: *looking up with a smile, as Glynda entered his Office* Ah, Glynda, did- *sees her eyes, red from crying* ... *Sigh* Was it-

Glynda: *shaking her head* Worse. *Sitting on a chair* It was so much worse than anything we might have expected...

Ozpin: *worried* What-

Glynda: *trembling* Nothing happened...

Ozpin: *perplexed* What do you mean?

Glynda: ... Their was no knight to save the day, no cat to show you the way and no trees that could help you change for the better... A story that was never written... A destiny that can never be... *Shake her head* No wonder we never found that book, it never existed in the first place...

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> slow-burn, soulmate au, Hunger Games au paring(s) -> ATEEZ OT8 x FEM!READER warning(s) -> murder, mental health, gore, suicidal thoughts. words -> 2.5k

abstract -> who said sacrifices were easy?

Y/N’S PERSPECTIVE 

“What are you two planning?” he asked me and the male tribute… and I didn’t know how to answer. What was I going to showcase after a few days of training? All I’ve been practicing was fish tackling for fishing, swimming, and studying the plants in humid plains. My ally was of help but she couldn’t even wield a spear… how was I a threat to anyone?

“The best thing for the two of you would be to act weak… then you won’t be a target for the career's best-case scenario, where you’d get an average score and won’t be targeted for a while,” he said, and suddenly, the elevator opened… We walked in and saw District Twelves’s mentor.

Kim Hongjoong. The Devil in Disguise… The Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing.

Jeonghan stepped forward standing next to him while we stood before our mentor.

“I heard you’re trying this year,” he said to Jeonghan, earning a scoff.

“I heard you left your tributes to die?” he asked and Hongjoong laughed. How could you laugh when people were dying when you knew what this felt like? When you didn’t even want to help them… when they were just in your position?

“They don’t have what it takes… most of my district doesn’t,” he said and the doors opened as we walked off. I don’t know what came over me but I turned behind me to see him looking at us. 

He waved his right hand making my eyes widen. Another red string connecting to me? 

“Whatever happens here is fine… okay so don’t get too nervous, they go in order of district with the male tributes going first. Good luck”

Everyone, starting from District One and ending at District Twelve, sat in silence, waiting to be called. This was all to showcase how we could survive or kill one another. 

It felt like forever when it was finally my turn… with everyone’s eyes on me as I walked. 

I went inside to see the game makers. Jeonghan had mentioned that they’ll be on edge and watch every tribute this year since Hongjoong won.

Last year, he was given a meek rating of two… he truly was considered weak. But Jeonghan said to avoid that—not only would I be targeted, but sponsors wouldn’t help me, which is something he told me I needed to heavily rely on. 

I still didn’t know what to do so I could use a weapon… so when I decided to go to the plants they laughed and conversed with themselves. They didn’t pay attention to me after. 

I didn’t know if that was good or not so… I had to think of something to bump my score, anything even a little. So I practiced memorizing beaches and tropical plants when I realized… Maybe I should talk to them. 

“This year's arena is favoring District 4 right? Either beach or ocean?” I asked as I looked behind me slightly and they stopped talking to look at me. I smiled as I got confirmation what I was doing was correct. I was relieved as I continued, facing away from them as I showed them everything I chose of tropical plants… stating I knew from the start what they were planning. 

“You want District Four to win this year… but respectfully I don’t think they will,” I said as I finished and bowed, thanking them for my time as I walked out and I was confident. Walking passed all the other District tributes to the outside where I was going to find Jeonghan.

“I’m guessing they weren’t as observant?” I heard and I saw Hongjoong. “That doesn’t matter,” I said, not wanting to tell him anything. “It doesn’t matter about this small little detail. If you were smart like your district is known for… you’d stop fighting for your life. The victor's life wouldn’t suit you” he said and I was confused about what he meant.

“Seonghwa may put hope in your head if your brother already hadn’t but trust me. Death would suit you better than a cage” he said and I didn’t understand…

You’d think being soulmates would—

“y/n!” I heard and I saw Jeonghan’s glare. I walked to him and he looked at me angrily. “Come on,” he said as he led me away from the lobby where I heard Hongjoong’s laugh… we walked away from my psychotic and knowing soulmate. When we were finally out of the public’s view… I had to ask. 

“What did—“ “I think it's time to make a choice… he’s right you know. Living in a cage isn’t fun at all,” he said, cutting me off and I didn’t know what anything meant. What did Hongjoong mean?

We were on the elevator when he asked what I did.

“Plants at first—“ he sighed disappointedly “—but then I asked them about the arena,” I said and his eyes widened. “Why would you do that!? You needed to take the chance rather than…” He yelled but stopped as he saw my reassuring smile… “I needed to know… if I was right or not so I could see if what I calculated was wrong. Jeonghan…” I said and he looked at me worried. Like everything could come crumbling down… the stress in his eyes was evident but I gave him a relieved smile of my own.

“Jeonghan… I was right it's an arena for District Four”

The next step was now waiting for results. Seeing if we could get a high enough score to not be a target and be low enough to also not be a target. However, this year the careers were deadly, the highest ranking being eleven. 

My tribute partner ranked a two for my escort to try to cheer him up while Jeonghan didn’t even try. He waited for mine. I knew he deserved to fight for his life too but… it was him or me and I had to choose myself for Junghwan. 

“It’s okay dear, it’s different in the arena” our escort comforted the boy crying next to me as my name was called out and then a score…“So y/n, a score of… 10” I felt my eyes widen. Just for telling them what arena I knew? 

“Ok… not bad but you did put a target on your back,” Jeonghan said and I felt scared. More than ever.. in just three days of training and now the results of our showcase were… terrifying. 

Tomorrow is the interview… everything was suddenly going so fast. After the interview, I'd step into my death if I didn’t play it right. 

While everyone went to sleep I didn’t know what to do… At first, it felt like a nightmare… What would I even say tomorrow?

“Let me tell you a piece of advice, kid” I heard and I saw Jeonghan with a drink in his hand as he approached me. He put a hand on my head trying to comfort me when he asked…

“You have people to live for don’t you?” I nodded… Junghwan but also… “You said you met your soulmate… is it in your district or here in the capital?” He asked and I didn’t see any point to lie when I might die in the next day or so. Besides… I think I could trust Jeonghan. 

“My stylist and Hongjoong…” I said and he sighed almost like he was also debating on what to tell me... “The minute a victor leaves you get crowded with lights and pretty words from the capitalites and they idolize you but they don’t know nor do they ever realize that you were killed in there… that you have blood staining your hands that won’t ever come out,” he said and I didn’t think of the guilt afterward…. Survivors' guilt.

“But then you meet the president and he will seem to give you a good life and deals… but be smart. Don’t go against the president… or the ones you love will be killed off one by one. Your brother and your stylist could die at any minute just because you misbehaved” he said and I nodded. 

Act good… behave.

“Hongjoong had lost his parents this year because he didn’t follow that rule. I can tell that the only thing pushing you is your brother… otherwise, this would be complete suicide so I don’t want to see what could happen if your brother died because of something you did”

Behave… I’d just have to act the part. Jeonghan said he had to learn to put on a fake mask in front of the audience. I’d have to do the same… be charming, cute, and perfect in their eyes. Get sponsors… and make me a loveable victor that they wouldn't want to see die

His games… he showed me them and he told me everything he did as well as his thought process. He made an elaborate plan and lied to them to gain sponsors. Those same sponsors are the reason he won… so what would I do?

“Hello again” I heard and I saw Seonghwa. My soulmate… someone I wanted to protect but would he look at me the same after seeing what I'd do if I did survive? “Are you ready to look like you belong from the capital?” He gave me a smile. How… could he be from the capital and smile knowing tomorrow there’d be so many deaths?

“You’ll win. You got a score of ten, that's impressive you know!” He praised me as he started doing my hair. He talked on and on about his plans for me and praised me for my score. He was clinging to the idea of me surviving…

He was just as desperate as I was but… the thought ran around my head. Isn’t it better to just… have to protect my brother? He’s safer with everyone thinking that I had only my brother. 

I don’t think I'd ever forgive myself if I was the reason for his death. I can’t imagine… having to attend his funeral or living my life knowing it was all my fault. Not when he looked at me with admiration, hope, and… love. 

“Here, let’s get you to put on the dress my love, it’s going to make you look heavenly!”

“So y/n!!” I heard the caster say as I walked onto the stage in the white feathered dress with gold accessories adorning my hair neck and arms. 

“Well don’t you look like an angel” he smiled. Boo Seungkwan… Jeonghan told me he knew him personally and trusted his character. So I could do the same and I found comfort in him weirdly enough…

“Now, when you were chosen I had goosebumps. Everything was silent unlike the previous districts since yours is the cut-off from careers. But the boy… his pleas were heartbreaking. Can you tell me about him?” He asked and I nodded. I couldn’t help but smile thinking of my silly brother. 

“He's my brother… he turned twelve this year,” I said and he smiled softly. “How about your parents?” He asked and I shook my head. 

“Our parents died a few years back… it’s been only the two of us since then. It’s why… I need to win” I said and I heard the awws from the audience. How could they aww to two orphans and a boy potentially losing his only family left… orphans who lost their parents to peacemakers… workers for their president?

When it was their rules they implemented… that we had to live this way?

“I see my dear… may the odds be ever in your favor for his sake. Let’s talk about the parade… Your dress was a fan favorite. The feathers made you look… like an angel!” He said and I smiled. 

“My stylist had a good eye,” I said and he chuckled “Well of course and even today's dress!” He announced and I smiled. “I could give you a spin?” I offered and he nodded as we stood up. 

He took my hand and twirled me. It cascaded feathers down to the crowd which capitilites tried to get. The dress even had two parts where the feathers separated almost making it look like wings “Even if this dress gives this light, your district represents power. How does this reflect that?” He asked and I chuckled.

“Light is important, isn’t it? Without district three we wouldn’t have electricity let alone the light. We need something to shine in our lives at the hardest times Mr. Boo'' I said and he smiled. 

“You’re very right my dear. Now, how do you feel about tomorrow?” He asked to make the atmosphere serious as we sat down. The audience seemed entranced so now… make them cry as Jeonghan advised. 

“Worried and a bit scared. I’ll get back to my brother either in his heart or in person” I said with tears blurring my vision. The emotion was real… this wasn’t an act. 

“But surely you have some confidence you got a ten!” He said and I had an idea pop inside my mind.

“Yeah… if I’m being honest? I only got a high score because I predicted the arena” I said and his eyes widened and I heard gasps of shock. 

“Predicted it?” He asked, confused and maybe intrigued… I nodded confirming he didn’t hear incorrectly. I’d do the same thing as Jeonghan… differently but the same aspect. He is my mentor after all… this could ruin District Three’s reputation but it didn’t matter to me. 

“Do you wanna know a secret?” I asked and he leaned in. “A dessert arena”

“You little genius!” Jeonghan exclaimed and I smiled. “They’ll be fed wrong information and some of the tributes will take the trap,” he said and I nodded. He gave praise and he honestly looked relieved…

“Ooh! You already have a nickname in the capital!” My escort soon said running to us excitedly. She was too innocent for all of this. 

“Our little angel,” she said and I was going for a bird-like demeanor but the angel was a lot better. “You’re going to win this… I promise you will” she said and I smiled. The rest of the interviews went as planned… but soon everyone was talking about the spoilers of tomorrow’s arena. I took the attention off everyone which was good…

As we had dinner I waited for my partner's tribute and our escort to leave… because if I was gonna die tomorrow I needed to know everything… “What did you mean by Hongjoong was right?” I asked, referring to the other day and he sighed. 

“Would you die for your brother?” he asked and I nodded. “That's the problem,” he said, confusing me. “Hongjoong lost his family this year to a ‘disease’… that's what the public knows. But our lovely president killed them to punish him and now he’s free. Your brother would be in danger–"

"So it would be better if I die in the arena?” I asked and he sighed. He looked at me conflicted… there wasn’t a right or wrong answer to this. It seems there wasn’t an answer at all…

“I'll be honest… you're a pretty girl, so prostitution, escort ship, paid company, whatever you'd like to call it… he might assign that on to you,” he said and I was confused. 

“So if I behave my brother is safe?” I asked and he nodded with nervousness in his eyes but even with knowing this detail... 

“Then nothing else matters”

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please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[ooooo-mcyt]

Gnawing on Joel and Etho again.

When he's hurt or angry, Joel tends to lash out at Etho overtly. Killing Etho's cows or swinging an axe at him. Joel snaps verbally and physically, makes his feelings of abandonment and betrayal impossible to ignore. Joel isn't good at communicating, but he is direct. He's fire, burning anything he can reach to ashes until Etho looks at him.

Etho isn't so easy to read. He can be overtly violent, and many times he has been. Lighting tnt and chasing down his target. But worse is the way Etho lies or obscures things. Swearing to Joel that he wants to team and needs Joel's help escaping the zombies when they both know he's infected or joining Joel's family just to join every other team on the server too and eventually kill Joel's teammate.

They have both hurt each other, undeniably, but I think Etho's brand really stands out to me because of how Joel has been penalized for trying to bridge the gap. Etho is demonstrably willing to take any opportunity that presents itself to use their rapport for his advantage. Which I don't necessarily fault him for- you have to do what it takes to survive in a death game, and Etho has his own reasons to avoid genuine vulnerability- but which I think can be used for massive Joel angst.

[zepskies]

Aw welcome back, Wayne!! 😘 I'm so happy to hear that you've been thinking of this series. 🥰 And I'm so excited to see what you thought of Part 2...

I'm so in love with their little bonding sessions. Being stuck inside a cabin and playing games? I want that 😍

Aww it's the little moments with Dean that I would so love -- along with just being snowed in, in a cabin with him. 😏

And lol it's gotta be so awkward for true mates when they're still strangers. I absolutely adored her thought process throughout 😆

Lolll YEP exactly. 😆 Like, realistically how do you broach that conversation with someone? I'm glad you liked that attempt to inject some realism there. 🤣

Love how Dean doesn't realize he's oversharing and that his whole childhood might not have been normal 😂

ahaha Dean got so into his story he didn't realize he was giving himself away there! Bit of a rookie move, but she's his literal soulmate, so he's probably a little distracted. 🤪

And oh God, all those journal entries 😭😭😭 I know they're from the OG journal, but it just rips my heart right out again rereading it 😢 Those portray John's despair and heartbreak way better than the show did...

Girl I had never read the official journal, and it hit me in the feels in just the same way. 😭 I had that exact same thought -- that they served to humanize John and explain why he became the way he was with the boys way better than the show did.

Ooooh, let's think about it, shall we? 😏 Her dad might have totally been snatched by something supernatural. Considering their location and how it happened in her memories, it might have been a Wendigo?? 🤔

Ooh you're red-hot! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Dude! Goosebumps! Wendigos scare the shit outta me 🙈 It's still why The Descent is the scariest movie for me. I die from a heart attack every time 😂 🫣

ooooh my God, I haven't seen The Descent, but if it's anything like the Wendigo episode, than I don't wanna know. 😭 Legit when I was first starting to watch SPN I had to take a break after that episode -- and it was only episode 2!! 😩

No! Alex!!!! YOU KNOW THIS IS WHY I HATE SNOOPING Girl, you're killing me here... 😆😆

LOLL I love that you referenced Smoke Eater -- it's those same vibes from Part 8, isn't it? I have a little less sympathy for the reader in this situation, but she is ultimately sorry for going through his private journal/invading his privacy to the nth degree. 😅

OMGG I LOVED that gif of the little polar bear. 🥹🥹 Took me right out with the cuteness lmao. I laughed so hard at all your commentary with the reader and her lack of bear knowledge. 😝

N'aw, I know it was necessary but poor bear – wrong place, wrong time for the fella 🥺💔

Aww I know, I felt bad for writing that part. Poor Ted. 😭😭

My heart is full 😭❤️❤️❤️ (Also, I doubt he can ever stand to let her go her own way after this lmao)

Ha! You're right about that one. I just love me some protective Alpha Dean. 😏

Huh. Never eaten bear before... Never even thought about it before lol Also seems like something the Shaws would've done 😂

Me either lmao, but I've read about people who actually hunt for a living who survive off bear, caribou, bison, etc. I imagine it's a hard way to live, but omg yeah I could see Ashton making his kids learn how to shoot, but them not wanting to shoot a bear or a deer. 😭

Omg I love that ending! Dean's finally coming around, and she's putting the puzzle pieces about her dad together. I wonder what Dean will do when he hears the full story? Would he go hunt the thing? Is it even still out there??? Questions upon questions... 🤔

Aw I'm glad! Yesss it's about time with him lol. Good thing all your questions there will be answered in Part 3...

So excited for the next part!! I'm loving this story and everything you've put in it, and the dynamic between them is amazing. So well done, friend 😍🩵🩵

Aw thank you so much, my friend!! I tried to balance the slower "getting to know you" parts with some of this actiony/dramatic stuff as they slowly grow closer. 🥰💜💜

Also, don't think I forgot about the last two chapters of Polaris. I'm so looking forward to diving into those chapters soon!! 😘

Against the Wind - Part 2

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Thank you guys so much for all the amazing feedback on Part 1! Now, most of your theories and questions will be answered...

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, and peril, the other kind of "hunting."

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 2: Seems Like Yesterday

“I’ll raise you 25,” you say, tossing five chocolate covered pretzels into the middle pile. It’s a risky bet, considering how much you lost in the last hand. Dean regards you with an amused, if critical eye while he holds his cards.

“Ooh, you’re bluffing,” he says. You pop your brows at him, a subtle smile tugging at your lips.

“You want to test that theory? Put your money where your mouth is,” you challenge.

He tilts his head at you with a raise of his own brows.

“Cheeky omega,” he mutters. His attention returns to his cards as he deliberates on his next move.

You attempt to be nonchalant as you glance down at your cards again. It’s a shitty hand, but he doesn’t need to know that. The alpha’s won the last two hands of Texas Hold ‘Em, but you did win the first one. Though you suspect he let you win.

You want to at least even the score before he resumes his work out in the shed. He spends most of his time there during the day, or making sure the firewood is stocked. It seems like he takes any excuse not to spend too much time in your presence.

More than anything, you want to ask him if he feels what you feel—the same tug in the pit of your stomach every time he’s nearby. You just haven’t found a way to broach that with him.

Hey, I know we just met like two minutes ago, but I think we’re supposed to be together. Do you feel it too?

You nearly roll your eyes at yourself. Yeah, that’ll go over well.

So you have to be content with mornings like this and in the evenings, where he lets you put on one of his records, and you two share dinner together, maybe another round of cards. Or you’ll read a book while lounging on the chaise, and he lays out on the couch, listening to his music with his eyes closed. You like watching him like that, with a relaxed, damn near peaceful set to his face.

Too often he holds that harder, stoic expression, or that divot between his brows that makes you want to soothe two of your fingers there; or better yet, lean in and press your lips—

“It’s your move,” Dean reminds you. He’s finally played his hand, but you were too distracted to hear what he said.

“What’d you do?” you ask, surveying the piles of cards.

“Call,” he repeats, popping a few pretzels into his mouth. He washes it down with beer and more barbeque chips. Those are worth $10 in this little fantasy betting. He points a finger towards you with the same hand that holds his beer, teasing, “You got all the lights on in there? Or am I boring you?”

You glance up at him, fighting a smile. “All right, keep your pants on. Let me see…”

As the dealer, he’s already turned over the River: the last card in the hand. It’s a 10 of Clubs, which means your One Pair is actually a Two Pair. It’s still not a great hand, but it’s decent enough to maybe let you get the best of your opponent.

After you go “all in,” Dean’s lips twitch at a smile, and he humors you, going all in as well. You’re on tenterhooks when he finally reveals his hand.

“Ooh, it ain’t a cheesy ‘90s sitcom, but it’s still…a Full House,” he brags as he lays out each card in a smooth line of overlapping cards, the mix of glossy red diamonds and black spades showing the truth. He won again.

You huff in defeat, your shoulders sinking in your seat at the kitchen table. You turn over your measly hand. Sweeping the winnings toward himself (a mound of chocolate covered pretzels, a stack of barbecue chips, and a handful of Oreos), Dean chuckles and tosses you a wink.

“Ah, don’t beat yourself up, sweetheart. I’ve been hustlin’ poker for a long time. Hell, I’ve been playing this game before I even knew my times tables,” he says as he collects the cards.

“That young?” you reply. “Who taught you?”

“My dad,” he says. “Oh, believe me, I used to get my ass kicked many a’ time, but by the time I turned sixteen, I was hustlin’ grown ass men in skeevy bars out of their daily paycheck.”

“You were hanging out in bars at sixteen?” you ask incredulously. There, Dean seems to realize he’s said too much. He becomes more guarded as he puts away the deck and cleans the crumbs off the table.

“My dad was always working. You could say I didn’t really have a curfew,” he says.

“A latchkey kid, huh?” you reply, hiding the way you’re trying so hard to glean any more hints of truth between his words.

“Heh, yeah.” He gets up from the table and tosses the breakfast dishes in the sink, then travels to the front door to don his jacket and boots.

“All right, I’ll be out back,” he says.

Out back, code for out in the shed. You nod, and in a flash, he’s shutting the door behind him.

You’ve learned another small tidbit about him, one that feels more important than it seems on the surface. And yet, it only elicits more questions you doubt he’ll be willing to answer so easily. He’s more than tight-lipped about his past, only giving vague outlines and general pictures.

Even his stories—like being raised up in a family of traveling mechanics, putting Nair in Sam’s shampoo when he was a kid, or the guy’s serious fear of clowns—feel like they’re missing some key details.

You decide to take up your crutches and head for your room. There you unearth the journal from its hiding place under your pillow. This time, you turn to the very beginning. Before all the jargon about mythology (and an odd footnote about a “Turducken Slammer”), there are actual journal entries. The first one dates back to November 6, 1983. The first line already captures your attention.

I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed… When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.

This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.

Dean’s mom…

He writes about their house burning with all their memories inside, along with Mary. Somehow, he saw her pinned bloody to the ceiling.

Along with these pages is a clipping from a news story:

House Fire Kills Mother of Two

Lawrence, Kansas.

You’re spellbound by it all. You keep reading.

November 13, 1983

…Most of our clothes and photos are ruined, even our safe—the safe with Mary’s old diaries, the boys’ savings bonds, what little jewelry we had…all gone. How could my house, my whole life, go up like that, so fast, so hot? How could my wife just burn up and disappear?

The police don’t believe his story, about how she died before the fire, about what he saw. So he tries to convince himself that what he saw wasn’t real. Still, he can’t find rest, and he worries about his sons’ safety.

December 4, 1983

I haven’t let them out of my sight since the fire. Dean still hardly talks. I try to make small talk, or ask him if he wants to throw the baseball around. Anything to make him feel like a normal kid again. He never budges from my side—or from his brother.

Every morning when I wake up, Dean is inside the crib, arms wrapped around baby Sam. Like he’s trying to protect him from whatever is out there in the night.

Sammy cries a lot, wanting his mom. I don’t know how to stop it, and part of me doesn’t want to. It breaks my heart to think that soon he won’t remember her at all.

You don’t realize you’re crying until a droplet lands on the page. You quickly wipe it away before it becomes a stain, and you dry it all the way with your breath before you move on to the next page, sniffling. Your heart hurts, even as your guilt grows. You know now that you’re really, truly invading Dean’s privacy by reading his father’s words. You just can’t stop yourself from turning the next page.

John becomes convinced that someone, or something, started the fire that destroyed his life and took his wife away from him and his sons. He leaves his job and the remnants of that world behind, to venture deeper into the darker one. But in that darkness, he finds truth.

He visits a psychic, Missouri, who leads him back to his house and senses the echoes of an evil presence—something that shakes her to the core, and John too: the creature that killed his wife.

December 20

…She told me that it was the most powerful, awful thing she’s ever come across.

On January 1, 1984, John makes a New Year’s resolution. He determines to find the answers himself.

A shiver runs down your spine. In John’s words, your heart breaks for Dean, but you also see yourself. You try not to think about why.

You keep flipping through the rest of the journal past January. There are translations of a Latin exorcism, and like you read before, strange drawing of evil looking creatures—as well as what they are, scraps of their history, and how to kill them.

Silver bullet to the heart, can’t withstand iron, salt and burn.

You pause on a certain page, more filled with lore than the rest, and a primitive drawing in the center.

WENDIGO

Cree: Evil that devours.

Wood spirit. Eats live flesh. Lives in forests.

Perfect hunter.

Your breath stills in your lungs as a cold sweat forms across your skin. The more you read, the faster your heart beats.

The crunch of dead leaves. Your father shouting at you to run, and keep running.

The coarse shout of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short. You turn around with your rifle in hand, poised to shoot blindly.

Your stomach churns as bile rises into your throat. You feel sick, and wrong, and you suddenly have the urge to throw the journal against the wall.

“Omega?” calls Dean’s sharp voice. “You okay?”

You jolt badly at the sudden noise. You didn’t hear him reenter the house. He likely caught the scent of your distress. He pushes the door of your room open to find you, but he stops short in the doorway. His surprise quickly morphs into a frown when he notices what you’re holding in your lap.

You gasp, freezing where you sit, but there’s no point in trying to cover up what you’ve done. With an angry purse of his lips, he reaches over and takes the journal from your hands.

“What the hell are you doing with this?” he demands.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I just—” You swallow past the lump in your throat. “I was just curious. I wanted to know more about you. I thought it was…a normal journal.”

“So this is how you go about it, huh? Got everything you wanted, Columbo?” he says, his sarcasm cutting into you. He flips through the journal to make sure all the pages are intact before he tucks the journal under his arm. “Seriously, going into somebody’s stuff? Who the hell raised you?”

At that, you begin to bristle.

“My dad,” you snap back. Though remembering the passages you’ve lived with for the past few hours, you soften with a painful twinge of sympathy in your heart. 

“And it looks like yours raised you to be some kind of…well, what are you, a ghostbuster or something?” you ask.

His jaw locks. “Or something.” 

With an exasperated sigh at his hedging, you swing your legs around the edge of the bed and haul yourself up with your crutches so you can at least match his stance (more or less).

“Dean, please, just talk to me,” you implore, gesturing at the journal tucked under his arm. “The things I read—”

“Are none of your goddamn business!” he growls, making the omega inside you cringe. The alpha’s voice is deep and sharp, and even though he isn’t crowding you, his height and broadness are still intimidating.

“The sooner you heal up, the sooner I can ship you back to where you belong,” he says. “Back to your life, so you can stop sticking your nose into mine.” 

Your mouth actually falls open in shock. His vehement words feel almost as powerful as a physical blow, if to your soul. They make your arms tremble while holding yourself upright on your crutches. Hot tears well up in your eyes, though you try to blink them away. After a moment, you’re able to collect yourself enough to speak.

“I’m sorry for going through your stuff,” you say, in a quiet voice.

You hobble awkwardly past him out of the room. You don’t stop until you reach the front door, where your snow boots are. You manage to get them on by yourself so you can go outside and get some fresh air, not to mention some much needed distance from the alpha’s burning presence. You can still feel him trailing behind you. You hear his heavy boots.

“Where the hell are you going?” he grits out.

You hobble faster.

Dean watches you go out the door without a word in irritation, even though it triggers an alarm deep in his gut every time you leave the safety of the cabin. 

The snow depth has lightened somewhat since the storm, but it’s still not easy to navigate on your crutches. You get some distance from the cabin, mindful not to go too far. You know you’re limited, and you didn’t even take a gun with you.

Finding a solid tree to lean on, you rest there and try in vain to stifle your tears. You know you were wrong for snooping, and he had a right to be mad, but did he really have to be such a freakin’ bear? 

Fucking alphas. I swear.

You thought you were starting to connect with him, but clearly, Dean wants nothing to do with you. He wants you out of his life. 

Does he not feel the same pull you feel to him? Does he really not realize…that he’s meant to be your mate?

You take in a shaky breath through your nose. If he does, apparently he doesn’t care.

Just then, you hear the crunch of snow nearby. Twigs snapping.

Your body stiffens with a terrible memory—of that day in the woods. Your breath comes out in short puffs on the cold air, your eyes wide as you listen closely.

Hearing nothing, you allow yourself to breathe a little easier. You venture a few paces forward and to the right, but you stop shy of how it slopes downward. Some unnamed feeling tells you to look over the edge.

You lean over and cast your gaze down the slope, but all you see is snow and trees down below. With a shaky breath, you lean back and look out to the north again. Plodding along the trail, heading towards you, is a bear.

Oh shit…

You remember Dean mentioning something about a bear passing by his cabin a couple of days before the storm. Looks like he’s back to make his rounds.

His fur is dark; from this distance, you can’t tell if it’s a black bear or a grizzly. It doesn’t make much difference when all you have on your person is a can of bear spray. His gait is massive, unhurried, but he lets out a braying sound when your gaze meets his, as if acknowledging you. He stops there for a moment, assessing. Your body locks up with fear.

The bear groans again, this time sharper. You finally snap out of your reverie and force your body to move slowly backward with your crutches spearing into the snow. The cabin isn’t that far, maybe thirty or forty yards at most. Still, the bear can probably beat you.

Instead of trying to run, you stand your ground and shout at the bear, hoping he’ll back off. Your voice dies in your throat when he rears up on his hind legs, with a loud roar. Trembling, you miss a step and get knocked back into the snow on your ass, your crunches falling out at your sides. You scramble inside your jacket for anything that might help you. 

Bear spray!

You hurry to get the cap off with shaking hands, but before you can even aim, the creature’s heave paws thudding into the ground in front of you—a gunshot rings out and hits the animal in the chest. 

The bear falters, then roars in pain and anger.

Two more shots finally bring it down to an even heavier thud, not far from your feet.

In this moment, these are the things you don’t know about Dean Winchester:

For one, the scent of an omega in distress always calls to an alpha’s protective instincts. But the scent of your abject fear feels like someone tried to rip his lungs out through his stomach.

Second, when he sees you there, your wide, shiny eyes filled with the remnants of panic, yet relief at the sight of him, it takes everything within him not to drop to his knees, grab you by the hair, sink his teeth into your neck and claim you, right there in the snow. Maybe then you’d start listening to him and stop taking your life into your hands.

Instead, his lips purse as he wracks his rifle and slings the strap of it over his shoulder. He stalks toward you and scoops you up, crutches and all. He brings you back to the cabin without a word.

His jaw is once again locked with silence and strain; he doesn’t trust himself to speak until he’s brought you inside and carried you over to the chaise. He sits beside you there and takes an inventory of you with his eyes.

“You okay?” he asks at last.

You manage to meet his gaze and give a little nod.

“Okay. Don’t move,” he says shortly. He gets up and goes to the kitchen, where he grabs a foldable set of knives and a cooler from under the sink.

You watch him in silence, and you realize he’s going back to gut the bear. You didn’t know that he actually hunted out here…well, hunted to eat. He continues to gather items in silence. It gets to a point where you can’t stand it, or his curtness, any longer.

“Thank you,” you say, halting his steps. Dean glances at you over his shoulder, then continues strapping up his supplies. He huffs in response.

“We’re gonna be eatin’ good for a while,” he says without looking at you. 

His attitude both hurts you and aggravates you, so much that you refuse to take it anymore. 

“Look, Dean. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have butted into your life,” you say. Frustrated tears well up in your eyes. Expelling a sharp sigh, you amend yourself. “I’m sorry for invading your privacy. I’m sorry about what you went through, and I’m…I’m sorry about your mom. I’m sorry for today. I’ll just…stay out of your way, and I’ll leave as soon as I can.”

Dean finally turns your way, but your lips tremble as you turn your face away from him and shut your eyes tightly against the salty burn of tears. Deep inside, his heart withers in his chest. He sighs and drops his supplies on the couch. He walks over with those heavy boots, and he sits on the edge of the chaise beside you. He hesitates for a moment, but eventually, he rests a warm, calloused hand on your arm and earns your tearful gaze. 

“I’m sorry. I, uh…shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he says. 

You sniff, quickly wiping away your embarrassing tears as they come. Your cheeks are hot with it.

“What is it you wanna know? About me,” he asks, surprising you that much more.

 Your mouth parts, but nothing comes out. It takes you some time to think, but the first thing that comes to your mind is…

“Everything in that journal,” you say, licking your dry lips. “Is it real?”

Dean holds your gaze steadily. You know the truth without him having to say it, but he does.

“I was a hunter,” he says. “Those things you read about, I found ‘em. Killed ‘em. It was my job.”

“And now?” you ask, once that large bit of information has time to set into your brain.

His lips tug at a half smile. “Consider me…mostly retired.”

You exhale softly, and you nod. It earns a furrowed look from Dean.

“You don’t seem all that freaked out by this,” he says, with a more scrutinizing gaze on you.

“Should I be?” you say, with an unsteady laugh.

He raises his brows. “In my experience, yeah.”

You chew on the inside of your lip. You don’t know if you should even put into words what you’ve been holding onto for months. Like John, no one believed you. Even your own mother had started to look at you like you needed a shrink.

“Omega?” Dean presses. His green eyes are perceptive as they take in the conflicted look on your face. “There something you wanna tell me?”

You deliberate for a moment longer. Then, you release a sigh and glance down at your hands clenching in your lap.

“A few months ago, I lost my dad,” you begin.

Dean nods. “Yeah, you said—”

“I lost him in these woods,” you say.

That quiets the alpha.

You shake your head, and you find your words as the memories that have been haunting your nights return to you.

“Like I said, we used to go hiking here every year…”

AN: Just so you know, all of the journal entries appear in the official "John's Journal" SPN merch. 😉

Next Time:

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name louder, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 3

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[aphroditelovesu]

Hiya! Hope ya don’t mind me dropping in on your inbox, I’m craving some angst currently so I was hoping you could write Yandere Finnick Odair with a darling that’s pregnant with his child and what goes on through his mind during the 74th hunger games. I wonder how it would affect how the games would go since I feel since he would be a yandere and darling is pregnant that he would prioritize her over everyone else

(author did him dirty when they killed him and he never knew she was pregnant😭😭)

❝ 🏹 — lady l: I focused more on what he feels and since it's been a while since I've done this, I hope it turned out okay. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! Also, he's more of a soft yandere for his darling 💚 he's hate is for the others! :)

❝tw: angst, slight canon divergence, mention of pregnancy (but it doesn't really show).

❝🏹pairing: soft yandere!finnick odair x female!reader.

❝word count: 1,128.

When you announced your pregnancy, Finnick felt for the first time what it meant to be completely overcome by the purest happiness. Well, maybe it was the second time, because he had already felt something like that the moment he met you. In that moment, when your eyes met for the first time, he knew that his life would never be the same again. But the true explosion of happiness came when you accepted being his, when you made it clear that you shared the same deep and unshakable love that he felt for you.

For Finnick, you were more than the woman he loved; you were the center of his universe, the reason why he could endure the horrors that the world had imposed on him. And now, with the news of the arrival of a baby, everything seemed to finally make sense. That little being growing inside you was living proof of the love between the two of you, a piece of both of you, inseparable and eternal. For him, the baby was not just a symbol, but the confirmation that you were completely his — and he, yours, in every possible way.

Finnick knew, at that moment, that he would protect you both with everything he had. You were his reason for living, his happiness, and nothing in the world could change that.

But then, the Hunger Games ripped him away from you, like a storm that destroys everything that is precious. He was separated from his growing family, forced to leave behind the dream of a peaceful future by your side and the hope of being present at every moment of the baby's arrival. The cruel and relentless duty imposed by the Capitol took him away from everything he loved most, and the weight of this separation was almost unbearable.

Finnick knew that every second away from you and the baby was a second stolen from a happiness he might never be able to recover. He left with a broken heart, taking with him the image of your smile and the promise that he would do whatever it took to return to you. Even if the Games were relentless, even if the Capitol tried to destroy him in every way, he would fight with all his strength to survive and return to the family that was waiting for him.

In the arena, every step, every strike, every strategy was not just for survival. It was for you. It was for the baby. It was for the promise of a future that he refused to give up. The only way he'll give up on you, on your child, is if he dies.

But Finnick couldn't focus on what he was supposed to do. How could he? You were on his mind all the time. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the arena, his mind always kept returning to you and the baby. His heart felt torn between two worlds: the brutal chaos of the Games and the home he dreamed of building with you. His soul, his very essence, was with you. He felt like he was living a nightmare, unable to protect the two people he loved most.

He desperately needed to make sure nothing bad would come to you. The thought that the Capitol might use you or the baby against him tormented him at every moment. But in this situation, he was powerless. Trapped in the arena, surrounded by enemies and manipulated by forces much greater than himself, Finnick felt useless. He, who had always been strong, fast, skilled, was now completely at the mercy of fate — and it was destroying him inside.

He remembered the moment he swore to protect you for the rest of his life, the silent words that carried the promise that nothing would ever harm you as long as he was by your side. And now, here he was, unable to fulfill that oath. The weight of that helplessness crushed his spirit, but at the same time, it fueled a fire inside him. Even though the odds were slim, he knew he had to survive. Not for himself, but for you. For you and the baby. He would fight, even if he was broken, because giving up would never be an option.

And he was broken without you.

Anguish gnawed at Finnick like a cold, relentless blade. Every second in the arena felt like an eternity, every heavy breath a cruel reminder of his distance from you. He saw himself surrounded by enemies, but none of them were as threatening as the thoughts that haunted him. What if something happened to you? What if the Capitol decided to hurt you as a form of punishment? What if he could never again hold your hand, hear your voice, or meet the baby that was part of him, part of both of you?

These questions consumed him, making it impossible to focus on anything but his fear and guilt. Finnick had always been a survivor, a fighter, but now he felt weak, broken in a way that even the original Games had failed to do. He was a man divided, struggling to maintain the appearance of strength while inside, everything was falling apart.

He relived the moments with you over and over in his mind, as if he could cling to them to keep from succumbing. The first time you smiled at him, the feel of your fingers intertwined with his, the night you told him about the baby. He remembered the sparkle in your eyes, the hope you shared in that moment. And now? Everything seemed so distant, so fragile.

He hated himself for being here, for not being by your side, where he should be. Finnick had always believed that his strength lay in protecting those he loved, but now he felt helpless, unable to fulfill the most important promise of his life. The guilt was suffocating, a weight that made him question his own usefulness. How could he be the man you needed, the father the baby deserved, if he couldn’t even be there?

Yet, amidst the despair, there was a spark of determination. He knew he couldn’t give up, no matter how much he was hurting. He had to survive, he had to get back to you and the baby. Because even if everything seemed lost, the love he felt for you both was the only thing keeping him going. And he would hold on to that with all the strength he had left.

And he would get back to you, to your baby. The only way he would give up was if he died, and Finnick was determined to survive, no matter what.

You, your baby, were worth any cost.

[dilfismz]

In-ho X Younger!American!reader HCs

Warnings: Age gap ( reader is implied to be about 19/20 while In-ho is in his 40s), manipulation, dubcon mentioned, jealousy, I’m sure there’s more. I switch between Young-il and In-ho so don’t be confused :) DDDNE

Hwang In-ho who spots your timid form immediately while you’re hugging your knees and sitting on your bunk.

Hwang In-ho who introduces himself as Oh Young-il and urges you to meet his group.

Young-il who finds your broken Korean adorably pathetic, serving as a translator during the games.

Young-il who feels pangs of jealousy whenever Thanos hits on you, the “hot foreign girl”.

Young-il who grabs you by the wrist, his grip rough as he pulls you away from the younger man.

Young-il who scolds you, telling you that young boys your age aren’t to be trusted.

Young-il who forces you to move your bunk next to his so that he can “watch over you” at night.

-You reluctantly would oblige because Young-il has been oh so kind and generous to you, he’d never do anything to you…right?

Young-il who strokes the hair of your sleeping form at night, being careful not to wake you up, all while he grows hard at the small touch.

Young-il who would often ask you questions about University during meal times.

Young-il who refuses to let you out of sight during Mingle, his tight grip constantly on your arm.

Young-il who kills a man so that the two of you can survive. But he was only doing what was necessary, right?

Young-il who slips into your bed that night, claiming it’ll be safer that way.

Young-il who finger fucks you in your sleep that night, covering your mouth when you wake up, “Shh don’t you think you owe me for watching out for you these past few days. Without me you’d have been dead day one, silly American girl”.

Young-il who only grows harder at you squirming away.

Young-il who finally slips his large member inside of you, telling you that if you take it like a good girl he’ll continue to watch over you.

Young-il who spills his seed inside of you and immediately tucks himself into his pants, slipping back into his kind facade.

Young-il who wraps an arm around you, telling you to “rest your pretty little head”.

Young-il who falls asleep next to you, satisfied and excited for more.

[zeroseuniverse]

Dance of Familiarity

Word Count: 1.4K Summary: “You... should’ve let me die,” he managed, his voice rasping with pain. “Not a chance,” She said, her hands working quickly to apply pressure to the wound, staving off the worst of it. “You’re not getting off that easy.” Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem Reader

Disclaimer: Please be aware that this is apart of the from the ashes series. This series will have aspects of violence, weapons, angst, blood, injuries, killing, and will heavily focus on oppression and segregation of mutants, Look after your mental state if any of these make you uncomfortable please.

Series Masterlist

The neon-lit city hummed with a pulse of danger, its streets lined with shadows and secrets. Beneath the buzz of illegal deals and whispered alliances, a storm was brewing—one that would threaten to unravel the delicate balance of power.

She had always prided herself on staying out of the underworld’s mess. A bounty hunter for hire, she’d worked the fringes, always calculating, always detached. Her reputation was built on precision, taking down targets with a mix of skill and efficiency. No emotions, no attachments—just the job.

But tonight was different. The contract she’d accepted felt... off, like a wrong turn down an unfamiliar alley. The target was a rogue assassin, someone who had been dismantling high-profile crime lords like clockwork, leaving bodies in his wake. No one knew his name. No one knew his face. All she knew was the trail of chaos he left behind, each kill more graceful than the last.

The job was simple—or so it seemed. Track him, kill him.

She had followed the breadcrumbs to a run down warehouse at the edge of the city, the scent of rust and rot in the air. Her eyes scanned the area, picking out every detail, every movement. She’d been hunting killers long enough to know when things didn't feel right.

The moment she stepped into the building, the air shifted—like the world had held its breath.

She’d barely noticed the shadow darting across the rafters above, a quick movement almost too fluid to track. Before she could react, a blur of motion descended, and she was face to face with the one person she never expected: the rogue assassin.

Hyunjin stood still, his backlit figure framed by the dim light filtering through the cracked windows. His eyes locked onto theirs, the faintest flicker of recognition crossing his face, though whether it was curiosity or something else, she couldn’t tell.

"Didn't expect company," Hyunjin’s voice was smooth, like velvet, yet laced with danger.

Her grip tightened on her weapon, but she didn't fire. Not yet. This wasn't just any target. There was something about Hyunjin—something different.

"You've been killing our clients,"She said, her voice steady, betraying nothing of the storm brewing beneath her calm exterior. "I’m here to put an end to that."

Hyunjin smirked, the glint of a blade flashing in his hand, his movements a slow, deliberate dance. "I’m not your enemy. Not unless you make me one."

And in that moment, she knew this wouldn't be like any other hunt.

A deadly game of cat and mouse began, each of them testing the other’s limits, their movements a blur of precision and grace. Every strike, every counter, seemed more like an intricate performance than a fight for survival.

But the moment the ground shifted beneath their feet, they both knew they were no longer alone. A third party—rival syndicate operatives—had entered the fray.

It wasn’t about the mission anymore. It was about survival.

As the chaos erupted around them, Hyunjin offered a brief glance, the unspoken challenge clear in his eyes: “We fight together, or neither of us makes it out alive.”

For the first time in years, she hesitated, caught between the urge to fight and the strange pull of an unexpected alliance.

The sound of gunfire echoed through the crumbling warehouse, and the once tense, calculated fight between her and Hyunjin morphed into something chaotic. The rival syndicate’s operatives flooded in, their weapons drawn, intent on silencing both of them.

Hyunjin didn’t flinch. His every move was fluid and precise, as if this was nothing more than a familiar dance. But her instincts were sharper than most—she had no choice but to adapt quickly, her mind racing.

In the midst of the chaos, Hyunjin's movements began to change. Where his strikes had been lethal, now they seemed... restrained. He wasn’t going for the kill shots anymore. His every motion was a carefully calculated move to incapacitate, to subdue, and not to finish the job.

It was subtle, but she caught it—a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, a momentary look that passed too quickly to decipher.

A sudden realization hit her like a punch to the gut. Hyunjin wasn’t here to eliminate her. He wasn’t even here for the syndicate’s contract. Something deeper, more personal, was driving his every action.

But before she could process the thought, one of the rival operatives made a dangerous move—aiming directly at her.

Instinct kicked in. Hyunjin lunged forward, faster than she could react, taking the bullet meant for her. The impact sent him crashing into a stack of crates, the air thick with the sound of his breath escaping in sharp gasps.

"Hyunjin!" her voice broke through the din of the battle, her focus snapping to him. He lay there, vulnerable, blood seeping from the wound.

She rushed to his side, ignoring the gunfire still ricocheting around the warehouse. He was breathing, but barely, his hand clutching the bullet wound in his side. His face was pale, his usual cold demeanor slipping for the first time since their encounter.

“You... should’ve let me die,” he managed, his voice rasping with pain.

“Not a chance,” She said, her hands working quickly to apply pressure to the wound, staving off the worst of it. “You’re not getting off that easy.”

Hyunjin’s eyes flitted between her and the approaching enemies. “They’re coming for you next. They won’t stop until you’re—"

"Then we leave," she interrupted, her eyes flickering to the shadows as she dragged Hyunjin to his feet. "We don’t have time for this."

But as they turned to run, something struck them both at the same time—a figure in the shadows, hidden just beyond the edges of their vision. Someone had been watching the entire time, someone who shouldn’t have been there.

A woman stepped into the dim light, her eyes cold and calculating. Her features were sharp, her movements smooth like she was part of the night itself. She was dressed in black, the faint shimmer of a blade at her hip—one that seemed eerily familiar.

Y/N froze, her pulse quickening. She recognized her.

"Well, well," the woman said, her voice smooth like Hyunjin's but colder, more menacing. "You thought you were the only one tracking him down?"

Y/N’s throat went dry. The woman was no stranger. She was the one who had hired her.

"You," Y/N growled, her grip tightening on Hyunjin’s arm as realization dawned. "You set me up."

The woman’s smile was dark, almost cruel. "Not exactly. I just... provided the right incentive. You see, I don’t care who kills him. I just need him gone. But I’ll admit, the two of you working together has been... entertaining."

Hyunjin struggled against Y/N’s hold, his gaze flicking back to the woman. "You knew," he whispered, a flicker of understanding passing between them. "You knew I was dismantling your empire."

The woman’s lips curled. "And you were never meant to get this far. Hyunjin. And you," she turned her gaze to Y/N, "Well, you’re just a pawn in a much bigger game."

The realization struck Y/N like a thunderclap. The woman wasn’t a contractor. She was the one pulling the strings, the real mastermind behind everything. She had orchestrated the entire scenario—the rogue assassin, the rival syndicates, even Y/N’s involvement—just to clean up a loose end.

Everything she had believed about this mission was a lie.

The world around them tilted as Hyunjin pushed himself to his feet, his eyes locked onto the woman with burning fury. "You’ve been playing us both from the start," he said, his voice low and deadly. "But you’ve underestimated one thing."

"What’s that?" The woman arched an eyebrow.

Hyunjin smiled—a dark, dangerous smile. "I never play by the rules."

Before she could stop him, Hyunjin lunged, his movements so swift and graceful that the woman didn’t have time to react. In a heartbeat, the blade he had hidden in his coat was in his hand, and with one swift motion, he sent it flying.

The woman barely had time to dodge, but not fast enough.

The blade sank into her shoulder, and she staggered back, fury flashing in her eyes.

"Game’s over," Hyunjin muttered, his voice cold with finality.

But Y/N could see it now—the uncertainty in his eyes. The fight wasn’t just about survival anymore. It was about something far deeper, something far more personal than either of them had realized. They had both been players in a game they didn’t fully understand, and now the stakes were higher than ever.

Now, there was no turning back.

[aceduchessdragoness]

[Updates Part 3]

22 November 24

These essential dressings for diabetic foot cost more than $50, and I need them on a daily basis so that gangrene does not spread in my father’s foot until he can perform the operation to open the femoral arteries. I hope you can help me in providing this.

22 November 24

My father has been in intensive care for two days and his health condition is very deteriorating. I hope you can help me and my family.

22 November 24

I hope you see this message of mine well Yesterday we lost two members of our family My brother's wife. And the little son In a hideous massacre and in conditions that no human being can bear My family and I are very afraid of loss, and I hope that you will help us secure the money necessary to evacuate my family to a safe place so that we do not die from burning.

22 November 24

400 days and the whole world stands watching

22 November 24

Displacement, killing, destruction, burning, deprivation, and living in tents for 400 days in the harshest conditions. I hope you can provide more support to my family.

22 November 24

These are not Halloween games. This targeting, which happened near our tents and destroyed everything, did not differentiate between stones and humans

22 November 24

We just want to live in peace and security We don't want wars My children have the right to live a decent life. Please stand by my family more

22 November 24

Despite the occupation's claim that aid has entered the besieged Gaza Strip, the famine continues and the insane price hikes continue due to the lack of what meets the needs of the citizens. Today, the price of a bag of flour is $140. The price of a kilo of tomatoes is $17.5 The price of a kilo of cucumbers is $8 The price of a single blanket is $110 The price of a tent has exceeded $1,500 The price of a bottle of mineral water is $3 The price of the medicine my father needs on a weekly basis is $450 I don't know what I can do, but everything is killing us today and no one cares about that I hope and implore everyone who donated to us to donate again so that we can continue to stay alive

22 November 24

I told you about this situation this morning. Truly, we do not know what to do, and our children cannot find a loaf of bread to eat Here there is famine again and the price of a bag of flour exceeds $300 Donate to my family so we can survive please

[More in Updates Part 4]

6-year-old Joan Al-Habil is has been repeatedly hospitalized due to severe gastrointestinal problems and overwhelming fatigue. This poor girl has been to multiple facilities and seen multiple doctors, undergone extensive testing (as extensive as is possible in Gaza's collapsed medical system), even having to endure an unsedated endoscopy.

She has now been diagnosed with severe gastritis due to starvation and hazardous living conditions. Remember, she and her family are living on the streets, which are cold and wet due to winter rain. Homelessness, stress, exposure to the elements, her previous injury when the lOF firebombed her tent, and malnutrition all conspire to sap little Joan of her strength.

Her condition is so serious that she even had to undergo surgery. Gastritis very rarely requires surgery to treat, so this is an indication of how dire her condition is. The surgery was successful to a degree, but she is going to need ongoing treatment to manage her symptoms.

The treatments are administered weekly and cost $500 USD (just under €500 EUR). Her family has no income and cannot afford this. If Joan goes more than a few days without treatment, her symptoms worsen rapidly, and she sometimes has to be hospitalized. It is vital that we help her family procure her treatments so that her condition does not worsen!

You can help Joan get her surgery and treatment by

reblogging this post

copy-pasting this link (https:// gofund.me/85a1b400) in your own Tumblr posts and all across your social media accounts to share her family’s story

boosting posts from her parents @mahafamily1 and @ahmed-family-1

donating to her family’s GFM campaign below

Current: €22,271 EUR

New temporary goal: €22,771 EUR

Need to raise: about €500 EUR ($500 USD)

[deusvervewrites]

First of all: Happy Birthday Deus!

Secondly, I have more thoughts about the whole "The Villain must Die" thing. You already allude to it in your original post, but one of the reasons that people tend to dislike it is definitely the fact that, if they were to acknowledge & accept it, they feel they would also have to "blame" themselves for liking "bad" media that does not follow this "rule".

You point out Star Wars, so some people will simply read this as "If you enjoyed Star Wars, specifically Palpatine dying, YOU ARE A BAD PERSON!"

Which is not what you said, (and I assume not what you meant) but some people will just read this into things, and feel like they have failed some invisible "vibe check" or something by liking the "wrong" media, and it all starts becoming some weird purity test even if it's often only in peoples head.

Like, stop reinventing Catholicism over here, stories can have different meanings and lessons, and one single thing doesn't mean that the story is no forever tainted and everyone who ever liked it should be branded as evil or some-such nonsense.

To use an extreme example, Metal Gear Rising Revengeance very VERY much kills its villains. It also has a very strong and important message about politics and ideology and how people justify atrocities in it. It's a different kind of story with a different kind of message compared to things like BNHA. Also, it even implies itself that the protagonist might have been wrong in killing his enemies, the fact that he did so anyway and that that was the only way he could see is a flaw that the game directly points out! So good news, liking MGR doesn't make you "bad" just as liking SU or BNHA doesn't mark you as inherently "good" or "righteous".

People need to take a step back and consider that not everything is an attack on them or what they like. Good stories are allowed to have flaws. Because most of them do. Any you are still allowed to like them. That's also fine. You can even like something and criticize it anyway, that's allowed!

This is getting long, so I want to end with another example that helped me realize how much I love villains surviving:

Fairy Tail, and the Arc of Jellal. Long Story short, when we first meet Jellal he is THE WORST. Absolute scum of the earth, sadistic maniacal supervillain that, inevitably, ends up blown up in a big anime battle.

Except, nope, ~2 arcs later, he is back, with amnesia, and involved in some other villains plot. Over the course of the arc he works with the heroes but then regains his memory and is utterly devastated to learn who he was in the past, to the point that he tries to noble suicide sacrifice himself to stop the villain. It does not stop the villain, but he still wants to go through with it to "atone", until the hero that he had hurt to most slaps him in the face and yells at him to Live and Struggle.

Because his death wont change anything. It wont heal those he hurt, or revive those he killed. He can only make up for this, only truly become better, by living.

And, spoiler, he does not sacrifice himself, but instead starts to go on a long and arduous and messy journey of atonement and it absolutely rocks. It makes him and his story a million times better than if he had died.

Anyways, sorry for the second wall of text I send you today, once again, Happy Birthday and best wishes!

One of the many things I love about Metal Gear Rising Revengeance's dialogue on the nature of violence is that, as you said, Raidon loses the moral victory at the end. When he kills Senator Armstrong, Armstrong names Raidon as the inheritor of his ideals that Might Makes Right. The entire game shows Raidon martyring himself by sacrificing his morals in an effort to save lives, implicitly comparing this to real-world warfare

[ralfmaximus]

okay, so do you actually have faith this entire "democracy" thing will work out for the US, or are you being nice? because youre one of the few people on this hellsite that has any damn sense and i've spent the last few months in a bit of a panic. i cant trust my own judgment anymore

It'll work out! There will be genuinely good things happening in our future.

But make no mistake: we'll go through hell to get there. The next four years is gonna be rough. People are going to die.

MAGA assholes feel empowered now because they managed to hijack our democratic process. But they're like the dog who catches the car; what the fuck do they DO with it?? Government is hard. None of Trump's people are serious choices to govern. What they WANT is personal enrichment; to loot the coffers and kill their enemies. But once extremists start cleaning house then everyone becomes the enemy. And MAGA is already fighting among themselves. It's like if 500 bank robbers all robbed the same bank at the same time, and now their arms are so full of bulging bags of money they can't fit through the vault door. Now they're fighting.

Their hatred & thirst for 'revenge' will be their undoing. Like I've said previously, all it takes is a few flipped Congressional seats and it's Game Over for them. MAGA actually does best when they're a minority.

We just gotta survive until that happens. Possibly as early as the 2026 midterms.

What that means is conserving your energy for that time when it's needed. Avoid doom scrolling. MSNBC and CNN/CBS/ABC (etc) are entertainment services, not news. They exist to enrage & inflame, not inform. Their profits go up when they hook you on whatever stupid shit Trump just said.

Instead, check out What The Fuck Just Happened Today? which is a delightful summary of important daily news, curated as bullet points. You can drill down to learn more, but usually it's enough just to keep tabs. Without, y'know, losing hours doom scrolling.

So yeah, I really am optimistic that we'll survive. Most of us, anyway. We just gotta find ways to protect the most vulnerable among us until the immediate danger passes.