#so i will ignore them i have no choice but to

[levanterhaze]

GAMEBOY — BANGCHAN

♡  ― 󠀬󠀬 fratboy!bangchan x f!reader this one is just pure angst and drama, no smut, just teasing each other like two idiots.

♡ synopsis ― Bangchan is the campus playboy—charming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.

[ 5.7k words ]♡― i had to continue this fic in a 2nd part, i felt necessary. maybe i'll continue it in a few more chapters (PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP ON ME) and thank you thank you thank you to everyone who has commented and appreciated this piece. it means a lot to a person who is non-native english wrt. without further ado, have a good read, loves!

♡― THE PLAYLIST.

♡ [part one]

you’re so indecisive of what I’m saying tryna catch the beat, make up your heart don't know if you're happy or complaining don't want for us to end, where do I start?

The pounding in your head was a testament to last night’s choices. Aspirin was non-negotiable. You could hear Eunji and Sohee's voices from the living room and were surprised that both of them were already awake after their all-nighter.

After leaving the room with Bangchan—because, of course, that happened—you ducked into the bathroom, shot off a text about vomiting and existential regret, and decided to make a graceful exit. Well, as graceful as one could manage after wild sex with the person you’d sworn to hate forever. Pride was nowhere in the equation, but who cared?

As soon as your eyes saw daylight, Eunji and Sohee looked at you judgmentally. You froze in your tracks, still wearing pink Hello Kitty jammies like a monument to your shame. Their judgment was immediate, sharp as a blade. Your heart sped up.

“You’re alive,” Sohee deadpanned, taking a bite of a cinnamon roll. “And looking like shit.”

“Appreciate it,” you shot back, throwing yourself into a chair. “Really warms the soul.”

Eunji’s smoothie slurp was unnecessarily loud, drilling straight into your skull. “We thought about waking you for breakfast but figured you’d need the recovery time.”

You dismissed the idea with a hand wave. "That's okay. Wouldn’t have gotten up anyway.”

"We can have lunch together, if you like. I really need a detox after last night." Sohee curled her lips into a grimace and you almost smiled. Detox advice from Sohee was peak irony.

But then Eunji, ever the chaos-bringer, dropped the bomb. “Oh my God, you guys, I heard the craziest thing last night! Jiwoon—my lit classmate—said he walked in on someone having super loud sex at the party. Guess who it was? Bangchan!”

Your heart plummeted straight into your stomach.

Silence remained and Sohee raised her eyebrows at Eunji.

“Apparently, the guy is a structural hazard,” Sohee chimed in, amused. “Minho said he once broke a floorboard. Who even does that?” Your red-haired friend says giggling.

Eunji giggled. “The girl’s lucky. If Bangchan wrecked me, I’d consider it an honor.”

You summoned your most convincing disdain, rolling your eyes with the energy of someone deeply unimpressed. “Honestly, can we not make him sound like some sort of deity?”

But guilt clung to you like a second skin, mingling with vivid flashes of last night—the furniture banging against the wall, Bangchan’s muscles taut as he tried to steady it. The memory burned, searing and humiliating, until Eunji’s voice yanked you back to reality.

The memory faded like mist when Eunji said it again. "Anyway, the girl’s lucky. I wish I was knocked down by Bangchan."

Lucky. That’s what they’d call you if they knew. Lucky—and a traitor to everything you’d loudly professed about hating him. They didn’t know it was you, and you intended to keep it that way.

From the tone of the chat, Jiwoon didn't see who was in the room with Bangchan, which means he didn't know you were the girl. Trying to ignore the talking and the sweat growing on your hands, you got up and declared that you were going to take a shower and maybe run some laps around the athletics track, because you really needed some fresh air.

The dorm felt claustrophobic. Eunji and Sohee were your best friends and you felt awful for not telling them the truth.

These were your best friends, but the truth felt like a grenade you couldn’t risk dropping. For months, you’d built your personality around despising Bangchan, and now? One night had unraveled it all.

Worst of all? You couldn’t stop replaying every second of it—and how much you’d loved it.

Sex had always been an exercise in mediocrity. Your exes? Predictably average, hitting the bare minimum on their way to their own finish line. As for finding the clitoris? Let’s just say they navigated like someone using a map upside down—an unsurprising disappointment every single time.

Now, though, Bangchan was something else entirely. A campus legend with a reputation as vast as it was unshakable. Everyone knew about his conquests—more women than you had fingers to count. Every rumor you’d rolled your eyes at turned out to be painfully, thrillingly true. He was better than anything you could have imagined.

Even after a long shower, his touch lingered, like phantom fingerprints etched into your skin. You could still feel him, every moment replaying in a maddening loop. No one had ever made you come twice in one night. No one. That fact alone made him unforgettable—and insufferably smug, no doubt.

Pulling on comfortable clothes, you grabbed a bag, stuffed in some essentials, and checked your phone. The group chat was overflowing with photos and messages from last night’s chaos, but you scrolled past all of it. There was only one person you needed right now.

You: Up for a morning run?

The reply came in under two minutes.

Hyunjin: It’s two in the afternoon. You: Morning for me. Hyunjin: Fine. Be there in five.

You tossed your phone into your bag and took a deep breath. A run was exactly what you needed—to burn off this restless energy and, hopefully, forget how guilty you felt.

You found Hyunjin on the running track near the outdoor field, surrounded by lush greenery and bursts of flowers the campus meticulously maintained. He looked effortlessly good, of course—baggy clothes hanging just right, dark hair falling over his face like it had been styled by the gods.

You started running side by side, silence settling between you. It was comfortable but heavy, like a bubble that needed popping. The kiss was the unspoken elephant on the track, but Hyunjin, ever observant, didn’t push. Not yet.

The day was crisp, the kind of weather that made you feel invincible. You poured your focus into your pace, and before you knew it, you’d pulled ahead. “Okay, okay—hold up,” Hyunjin called, his voice carrying just enough humor to make you smirk.

You stopped a few strides ahead, spinning on your heel to face him. He sauntered toward you, not even winded, like running was merely a mild inconvenience.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he said, his tone playful but probing.

“There’s nothing to tell,” you countered, already feeling your resolve falter.

“Uh-huh.” He stopped in front of you, his gaze narrowing. “Then why, exactly, did you ask me to kiss you last night?”

Well. There it was. No escaping now.

You shrugged, trying to play it cool as you grabbed the water bottle from your bag. “I was... needy, I guess.”

Hyunjin raised a brow, crossing his arms like he wasn’t buying it. “Needy, huh?”

“Look,” you said, exhaling sharply, “I’m sorry if it made things weird. You’re my best friend, and the last thing I want is for that to get messed up.”

“Relax,” he said, grinning as he ran a hand through his hair. “A kiss isn’t going to scare me off. You’re stuck with me.”

His easy laugh melted some of your tension, but before you could respond, he clapped his hands together with mock seriousness. “Tell you what—first one to the other side of campus owes the winner a banana milk.”

The sudden challenge caught you off guard, and you raised a brow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he said, already turning on his heel to start jogging backward. “Unless you’re too scared.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you bolted after him. “You’re so on.”

You lost the run, but of course, Hyunjin still paid for the drink. That summed him up as a friend.

After he dashed off to rehearse with Felix—because apparently, everyone else was rehearsing but you—a thought hit you like a lightbulb flickering to life. Rumors? Easy to spread. But if you wanted to get ahead of them, you had to go straight to the source.

With a mission in mind, you swaggered toward the gym where the basketball team was practicing. It wasn’t exactly classified info—every girl on campus could probably tell you when and where their training sessions were. You zipped your jacket up to your chin like it was some sort of emotional armor, grabbed your water bottle for moral support, and marched down the corridors. The door to the gym was already cracked open, and as you pushed it, everything seemed to slow down in the most dramatic way.

The guys were running drills, their shoes squeaking on the court like a broken record. The noise grated on your nerves, but you weren’t here for the sound; you were here for the spectacle. The stands were dotted with girls, some wrapped up in their player-boyfriend fantasies, while others... Well, who knows what they were thinking. You didn’t care. You had your eyes on the real prize today.

There he was, standing out like a sore thumb. His black and white uniform somehow looked too good on him. Focus, girl. You hid behind the staircase, crouched like a sneaky little spy, waiting for the game to wrap up.

It took nearly ten minutes, but eventually, the whistle blew. You adjusted your posture, trying to act casual, though you were definitely still paying attention to how the sweat trickled down Bangchan's forehead. It brought you war flashbacks. When the players scattered to grab towels and water, you took your cue to appear from behind the bleachers, giving a quick, awkward wave before ducking back again.

Bangchan's eyes scanned the area, and when they landed on you, his brows shot up in surprise.  In the meantime, he did the inevitable: he took off his shirt and used it to get dry. Great. Just great.

"Did you come to watch?" He smirked, that cocky grin of his. "Didn't know you were into basketball."

You rolled your eyes. His ability to flirt in every situation was almost impressive.

"Ha-ha. No." You sucked in a breath, desperately trying to obey your brain's commands. Don't look down. Don’t you dare look down. "Actually, I came to ask for a favor."

He leaned against the wall, eyebrow quirked, looking amused. "Okay...?"

“Right. I want what happened yesterday to stay a secret.”

Bangchan's eyebrow arched higher, an expression of entertained disbelief crossing his face. He crossed his arms, flexing those muscles in a way that made the mission of not looking at them impossible.

“'You think I'm going around saying we fucked?"

You roll your eyes, frustration building up, and clench your hand into a fist. Sure, say it louder, let the world know.

“Isn't that exactly what you do? Brag about your sexual life?”

The boy nodded, puffing out his chest, he shot back. "Ever heard me brag about it?"

“I don't need to hear it from you. The campus does it for you.” It was infuriating how this worked out. Everyone thought Bangchan was the type of guy, praising his victories and glorifying him every time he got between some girl's pants. 

Meanwhile, girls were severely censured for even kissing a guy at a party.

"Right. So you're just going off what people say about me?" His tone was challenging, like he couldn’t care less.

In a long drawn-out sigh, you fidgeted with your hands, intending to put the matter to one side. "Can you just keep this between us? I don't want anyone to know."

"Whatever, it's no big deal," he replied nonchalantly, shrugging. "If it's that important to you."

The words stung more than they should have. It wasn’t just the lack of care, it was the way he made it sound like it didn’t matter. No big deal. It hurt your pride, even if you didn’t mean it to. But that was Bangchan, wasn’t it? Haughty and self-righteous. Yeah, he was great in bed, but his attitude? Utterly shitty.

“Thanks.” You said it briefly, biting down your pride and leaving the scene as fast as you could. Speaking to him seemed like a fool's errand, but you couldn't risk it.

Behind you, Bangchan pursed his lips into a thin line, watching you go. To him, you were hopeless—always on guard, never letting your walls down. He knew he was right, even if it was a thin line. Sure, it was fun to rile you up, but it was maddening that you hated him for things he hadn’t even done.

Getting you to change your mind, though? That was the challenge. But if that’s what it took, he was more than willing to play the long game.

Early next week. Only Tuesday, and auditions loomed just a day away. You’d been agonizing over the perfect solo—one that wouldn’t just get you a role but the role. Monday was a blur of brainstorming with Hyunjin and Seungmin, your trusted theater comrades. Between swapping notes, debating song choices, and plenty of eye rolls, you managed to help each other refine your audition pieces. It was productive. Chaotic, but productive.

Your last hour of the day belonged to the theater, and it was sacred. The stage wasn’t just a place; it was a state of mind. The second the music hit, the world faded. Bills, homework, exes who ghosted you—it all melted away. Up there, you weren’t just alive; you were electric. It wasn’t just a hobby; it was instinct.

Your mom used to say you were born for the stage. She loved telling the story of how, as a kid, you’d belt out The Little Mermaid soundtrack so often the neighbors probably debated filing a noise complaint. Singing “Part of Your World” at the top of your lungs? A daily ritual. But the first time you sang for real—no plastic microphone, no stuffed animal audience—it clicked.

This was more than a passion. It was home.

Since high school, your hunger for the stage—and the spotlight—was insatiable. If there was a club, you wanted in. University was no different. People noticed you, not just for your knack for hitting sharp, glass-shattering high notes, but for your versatility. You could slip from sweet soprano to soulful belter faster than a drama major running late to class. On stage, you were magnetic.

Everyone gathered on stage, and Mrs. Baek appeared a few moments later with her round glasses and wavy hair around her face. Her figure was solid and powerful, as was her voice and knowledge.

But today, something was off. The crease on her forehead gave her away before she said a word. It was like a ripple of unease spread across the stage, and you didn’t miss a beat. You were already bracing for the bad news.

Then, a slim figure in a long skirt and boots strode into the center of the circle, sighing like she’d just carried the weight of the world—and maybe she had. “Okay, kids. Listen up.” Every pair of eyes locked onto her as if she were delivering the prophecy of doom. “We’re postponing the auditions. Indefinitely.”

Her announcement hit like a gut punch, and the stage erupted into chaos. Whispers turned to complaints, and complaints turned to full-blown outrage. Seungmin cast a skeptical glance at Mrs. Baek, then at you and Hyunjin, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

What the hell was going on?

“All right, settle down,” Mrs. Baek said, slipping her glasses off and pinching the bridge of her nose with that practiced mix of authority and exhaustion only she could pull off. “Jun-ho, our sound engineer, has officially dropped out of college. And to make matters worse, the university has decided to cut funding for the theater department in favor of... sports.”

“You're shitting me.” Nahee’s voice sliced through the commotion like a whip. She quickly caught herself, mumbling, “Sorry... but seriously—”

“That’s so unfair!” another voice chimed in from the back, frustration rippling through the group like a shockwave. “Basketball and soccer aren’t the only things this university has going for it.”

“I get it, kids. Believe me, I tried.” Mrs. Baek’s tone softened, but her words were anything but comforting. “I went to the administration, pleaded our case... But unless we can find enough volunteers and funding, I’m afraid auditions are canceled. Indefinitely.”

It felt like a cruel joke. The theater had always been your sanctuary, the one place where you could shed your armor and just be. And now? It was slipping through your fingers.

When Mrs. Baek dismissed the group, some students stormed out in anger, others lingered, trying to process what had just happened. For you, Hyunjin, and Seungmin, the next logical step was the canteen. Food couldn’t fix this, but it was something.

“This is absurd. Now we're all supposed to close our eyes and applaud this nonsense?” Seungmin boomed as the three of you walked to the canteen. It was packed every day, regardless of the time of the day.

At a table outside, you spotted Sohee and Minho. Eunji, Changbin, Felix and Bangchan.

Just when you thought your day couldn't get any worse...

“Tell me about it, I'm so pissed off!” Everyone looked at you, hearing loud and clear about your discontent. All three of you pulled up a chair and you sat down facing Changbin.

“Someone's jumpy.” Sohee leaned across the table. “What's wrong? You three look like shit.”

“It turns out the university cut the theater’s funding in favor of sports.” Your voice was sharp, and your glare shot directly at Bangchan, who was busy texting like the world wasn’t crumbling around him. He looked up, one eyebrow raised in confusion, as if you’d just accused him of single-handedly ruining the arts.

You looked away, rage bubbling in your veins.

“That sucks.” Felix shot back with a supportive smile. “I know how important the theater is to you guys.”

“Everyone’s been working so hard,” Seungmin muttered, sinking into his chair like the weight of the news had finally crushed him. “It’s just... unfair.”

A heavy silence settled over the table, broken only by the sound of Bangchan’s nails tapping on his phone screen. You glanced his way, the sight of him completely disengaged making your blood boil.

“Is there nothing we can do?” Eunji twisted her lips, hopeful.

“Car wash?” Changbin suggested with a mischievous grin. “Classic fundraiser, right?”

“Sure,” you shot back, deadpan, “let’s exploit women for the sake of art.” Your glare could’ve leveled him then and there. Changbin leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Okay, fine. What about food?” Sohee jumped in, glancing at Minho for support. “Muffins, cupcakes, something simple. People love that stuff.”

Hyunjin's face lights up like a light bulb. “Felix makes brownies. Amazing brownies.”

Felix smirked, shrugging like it was no big deal. “I don’t wanna brag, but they’re basically legendary.”

“Alright, then.” Changbin grinned, pointing a finger gun between Felix and you. “You two make the brownies. And we,” he motioned to himself and Bangchan, “sell them.”

You and Bangchan exchange glances for a millisecond.

“I’ve got the perfect idea,”  he says, a wicked smile slipping from his lips.

You raise an eyebrow, laughing. “What? Are you going to sell brownies naked around campus?”

The grin widened, and that’s when you knew you should’ve kept your mouth shut.

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

Felix had assured you he could handle everything, but your stubbornness wouldn’t let you sit this one out. If it was for the theater, you were all in. He handed over his famous brownie recipe like it was a national secret.

So, on Thursday, you got hands-on. Literally.

Eunji had come through with the shopping, and soon your dorm looked like a war zone—chocolate smudges on the counters, flour dusting the floor, and batter splattered in places you couldn’t quite explain. You only had a cramped space and a big dream of pulling this off.

You were just pouring the batter into a pan when a sharp knock at the door startled you. Wiping your hands on your skirt, you swung it open, expecting maybe Eunji or Hyunjin. Instead, there stood Bangchan, leaning casually against the door frame like he had nowhere else to be.

“Uh… hello?” You blinked, your brow furrowing. “What are you doing here?”

Bangchan stood back for a second, observing how exceptionally good you looked.

“So… newsflash,” he started, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You might wanna double that recipe.”

Confusion flashed across your eyes. “What do you mean?”

He straightened up, clearly enjoying your puzzled reaction. “I may have the entire basketball team to help out with the sale.”

Your jaw dropped as his words sank in. “You what?”

His grin widened at your disbelief. “You heard me. More hands, more sales. I figured we could use the hype.”

It was insane. But it was also brilliant. A rush of excitement shot through you, lighting up your face. “That’s… that’s fantastic!” you blurted, beaming before instinctively biting your lip to rein in your enthusiasm.

Bangchan tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost genuine. “Thought you’d like that.”

“Oh, shit. I'll tell Felix, we're going to need an extra oven.” You walked over to the coffee table, where your phone was.

Before you could dial, Bangchan’s voice cut through your focus. “You shouldn’t go there.” He was still standing in the doorway, arms crossed, his expression surprisingly earnest. “It’s a mess. Like, biohazard-level chaos.” You lose heart, trying to think of another alternative. “You can use my dorm. If you want.” He quickly adds the last sentence.

Your stomach dropped at the suggestion. The idea of stepping into Bangchan’s dorm felt like walking into enemy territory. Risky. Dangerous. Not worth the potential fallout. “It’s fine,” you said, waving him off. “I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about it.”

But Bangchan leaned against the doorframe, his smirk resurfacing. “You sure? There are a lot of brownies to bake, and I don’t think you’ve got all night.”

As much as you hated to admit it, he wasn’t wrong. Time was slipping through your fingers like sand, and with the entire basketball team now involved, efficiency was critical. “Fine,” you muttered, hating the way the word tasted in your mouth. “But only if you help.”

“You don't have to ask twice.”

It turned out Bangchan’s “help” involved more than just offering his kitchen. He insisted on carrying every utensil, baking sheet, and ingredient across campus himself, as though showing off how capable he was. By the time you arrived at his so-called dorm, you’d pieced together another puzzle about him.

Rich, but not obnoxiously so. Still, his “dorm” was more like a chic little apartment, complete with a full kitchen, two bedrooms, and sleek decor that screamed privilege. The space was annoyingly Bangchan—polished, put together, and just distant enough to be intriguing.

“Cool place.” You muttered after he closed the door behind you. Scanning the room and trying not to sound impressed.

“Thanks.” he gave you a smile. “So, this is the kitchen.” He motioned to a modern setup that looked like it belonged in a Food Network show. Top class stuff. “Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks,” you replied, slipping your hands into your pockets. “Not just for the space but… you know, for helping.”

It was obvious that he was making this effort because the theater was important to his friends Seungmin and Hyunjin. Why else would he do all this? Still, you appreciated it.

His lips twitched into a grin. “Wow. Didn’t think I’d ever hear you say that.” 

You rolled your eyes, biting back the retort bubbling at your tongue. Play nice. He’s helping. 

“Relax,” he added, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Just kidding. There’s booze in the fridge, by the way. Help yourself.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” you said, sidestepping the offer.

“I’ve gotta sort something out with the coach,” he said, grabbing his phone. “I’ll be back in 20. Think you’ll survive here alone?”

Honestly, being in his apartment without him sounded like the best possible scenario. You gave a small nod. “Yeah, no worries.”

With that, he left, and the door clicked shut behind him. You exhaled, a long breath that carried the weight of the past few days. Now you were in enemy territory, surrounded by his world, and somehow, that felt far more personal than it should.

How had this become your life? Baking brownies in Bangchan’s kitchen? It was almost as absurd as sleeping with him—a mistake you’d promised yourself you’d never make. But here you were, crossing one forbidden line after another.

You weren’t exactly a disaster in the kitchen, but you weren’t a pro either. Somehow, though, in thirty minutes flat, four trays of brownies were baking away in Bangchan’s fancy oven. The rest of the kitchen, however, looked like a war zone. Eggshells piled in the sink. Flour scattered across the floor. Chocolate batter smeared on your shirt. Your skirt? A masterpiece of handprints from raw dough. But hey, it was all for the sake of art—and funding.

While you whisked and poured, you couldn’t resist turning on your favorite song, What Is This Feeling from Wicked. Singing along word for word, you hit every high note with a grin. That song had landed you the role of Glinda in high school, and the nostalgia hit you square in the chest. Those were good times. Simpler times.

The chorus was still ringing in your ears as you crouched to scrub a stubborn chocolate stain on the floor. That’s when the door swung open, and Bangchan walked in, freezing mid-step as he surveyed the chaos.

“Holy shit. Are you all right?” he asked, his tone somewhere between amusement and genuine concern.

Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest as you scrambled to turn off the music. In your rush, your phone slipped from your flour-dusted hands and landed on the counter with a soft thud. You straightened, cheeks flushing. “I’m fine,” you said quickly, brushing your hands on your already-ruined skirt. “Sorry about the mess. I’ll clean it up, I promise.”

He looked around, clearly trying to hold back a laugh. His eyes flicked from the chaotic kitchen to you, taking in the state of your clothes. “You’ve got something… there,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the chocolate smear on your shoulder.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze. “As soon as I’m done here, I’ll head back to the dorm and clean this up.”

Bangchan tilted his head, clearly unimpressed with your plan. “I can lend you a shirt. Might make you feel more comfortable.”

“No, no. I’m fine,” you said, waving him off. “But thanks.”

He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. Then, without hesitation, he reached behind his neck and yanked off the black shirt he was wearing, leaving him in nothing but his jeans and a devilish grin. “Here,” he said, holding the shirt out to you like it was the most casual thing in the world.

You blinked, completely caught off guard. “You know you could’ve just grabbed another shirt, right? Like, one you’re not currently wearing?”

He leaned in slightly, the grin widening in a way that made your stomach flip. “And where’s the fun in that?”

For a moment, you just stood there, staring at him, equal parts annoyed and flustered. His shirt hung in the air between you, a silent dare. Finally, you snatched it from his hand, muttering, “You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been told,” he replied, unbothered, and strolled over to the counter like he hadn’t just walked into the kitchen half-dressed.

After a few minutes, you walked back into the kitchen, now wearing Bangchan’s shirt. It hung a little loose on you, the soft fabric brushing against your skin and carrying a mix of fresh laundry and whatever cologne he used. Not that you noticed. Much.

Bangchan was at the sink, scrubbing a mixing bowl. His back was to you at first, but when he turned around, his gaze lingered a second too long before he coughed and looked back down. “Did you know,” he started, shaking his head with a teasing grin, “that you’re officially the world’s clumsiest cook? There’s brownie batter... under the sink.”

You glanced at the cabinet beneath the counter, then back at him. “Hey, I said I’d clean up,” you defended, marching into the kitchen with your head held high. “And for the record, I never claimed to be a good cook. I’m just trying to help.”

Bangchan barked out a laugh, drying his hands on a towel. “Help? No fucking way. You’re a disaster, love.”

You froze, raising an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?” You crossed your arms, the oversized sleeves of his shirt only slightly undermining your indignation. “I didn’t see you stepping up to bake anything.. Let’s see you handle a whisk without breaking something.”

He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, clearly enjoying himself. “Trust me, I’d still be better than whatever chaos you’ve got going on here.”

Your lips quirked into a slow smirk, and you reached for the bag of flour on the counter. “Oh yeah? Well, let’s see you handle this.” Before he could react, you scooped a handful of flour and tossed it right at him, the fine powder exploding across his chest like a smoke bomb.

Bangchan froze for a second, blinking down at the mess. Then, his lips curved into a wicked grin that should have been your warning. “Oh, it’s on now.”

With your hands on your lip, you realized that you had fucked up. “I'm sorry, I...”

Too late. In the blink of an eye, Bangchan scooped up the sugar and poured it all over your hair. You stared, half-shocked, half-impressed by his audacity. You parted your lips to fire back, but before a word could escape, the sound of his laughter erupted from deep in his chest.

“Really? Is this how it’s gonna go?” You grabbed the cocoa powder with a grin. Oh, he wanted a war? You were so ready. “Bring it on,” you shot back, face lighting up with mischief. 

You were almost halfway to smearing him with chocolate when his hand shot out and stopped yours midair. The cocoa slipped through your fingers, and just like that, your plan hit the ground.

Then, you collided—chest to chest. Bangchan wasn’t laughing anymore, and you could feel the shift in the air, the heat between you two now undeniable. His lips curled into that damn smirk, the one that told you everything. Your heart was racing, but the thought of pulling away didn’t even cross your mind. The only question now was who was going to make the first move.

A silent battle passed between you two. His gaze locked onto yours, sensing the shift in your expression—less defiant, more... willing. And just like that, the tension morphed into something else, something undeniable.

Without hesitation, you leaned in, your lips brushing his. Bangchan’s breath hitched, a soft grunt escaping him at the sudden contact. Your hands, still coated with the remnants of your baking disaster, slid over his broad shoulders. You were a mess, sugar and flour everywhere, but somehow, it made everything feel a little more real. And Bangchan? He didn’t seem to mind one bit.

All he seemed to care about was having your lips on his. And fuck, you could feel how much he wanted it.

Bangchan grabbed your ass possessively, squeezing it and making a raspy moan escape your lips. You pushed him against the wall, without detaching your lips, savoring how the softness of his lips felt like cotton candy.

When you finally broke away, your chests heaving, your fingers still pressed into his skin, you met his gaze. His chest rose and fell beneath your touch, and you could feel the pull between you intensify again, magnetic.

“I should probably clean up this mess.” your voice broke the tension, but the realization hit harder than it should’ve. Bangchan was clearly fed up with your habit of diving in and then ghosting the consequences. 

“Don’t you dare.” his voice was low, the words like a command you weren’t about to ignore. His eyes locked with yours—intense. “You want this.” his lips brushed against yours, a tease that made your heart leap, while his words hung heavy in the air. “I know you do.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears, drowning out everything but him.

“Bangchan.” You whispered, barely able to breathe. The heat from his hardness spread like wildfire, and your body seemed to betray you. “We can’t.” you licked your lips—stupid, because he was already there, sealing your protest with a sloppy kiss, stealing that last ounce of restraint.

You were losing it. Why did he have to be so... goddamn good at this?

“Oh yeah?” he pulled away, just enough to make you regret the distance. “Tell me one good reason. Just one.”

You snorted, doing everything you could to hold it together, but the pull between you was undeniable. “Please.”

He tilted his head, lips twitching like he wanted to argue, but instead he closed his eyes and muttered a curse under his breath. “Fine,” he grumbled, walking away, but the air between you two still crackled.

The rest of the kitchen cleanup was like some strange form of punishment. You moved in sync, two people acting like they hadn’t just burned down every ounce of decorum in the room. The silence was deafening, the kind of awkward that made you wish you could pull the floor open and swallow you whole. But instead, you just scrubbed harder, hoping it’d drown out the thundering thoughts in your head.

He pulled away, no jokes, no teasing—just silence. It was like a switch had flipped, and the tension that had once sparked between you now lay dormant, suffocating. You didn't know if you hated the quiet or if you hated yourself more for letting things go as far as they had.

When everything was finally done, he still helped you carry your things to the dorm, his touch lingering just a little too long as he adjusted the bag over your shoulder. You were too busy battling the whirlwind of your own thoughts, replaying every moment, every look, and cursing both him and yourself for what you’d just crossed into.

You hated how easy it had been. How natural. And you hated even more that you couldn’t quite bring yourself to regret it—at least, not yet.

♡ taglist ― @kenia4 @chrizrizz @meerabmalik

[darinawrites]

✦-Drunk for love-✦

Pairing: Thanos x implied f!reader

Summary: you've picked up on some bad habits of your lover, him not being by your side for so long, he hadn't noticed. Only once he came back, eyes transfixed on your passed out body, did he notice his mistake. (thanos finding you passed out from drugs).

Contents: angst and a bit of fluff, pre game, drugs and alcohol, inaccuracy of drugs? (I can't be bothered to let my knowledge expand, only knowing some side effects they have).

A/n: This feels so rushed, I wrote this before (again) passing out of exhaustion, so I apologize if its rushed/badly written 😓 but please give my man anything other than non con, there aren't enough fluff and angst fics of him.

Word count: 1.3k

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ｡｡

How long has it been? You hadn't bothered to check the days anymore, knowing its been a few months since you last saw him. Vanishing with pathetic excuses at your lowest.

You should hate him, you really should. The burning aftertaste of alcohol lingering in your throat. Because of him, to simply forget your worries for one night, multiple bottles of wine and beer surrounding you. He's luminary, letting you follow his leads of bad habits.

Taking another sip, it just wasn't enough. You could still think clearly, thoughts still occupied with him. You wanted to the alcohol to gnawn on your brain, a pernicious affect of a headache the next morning. But it wouldn't give you that, your body getting used to it over the months.

Groaning as your limp body pulled itself up, checking your phone for any messages, his message. Yet none popped up, silently letting your eyes glisten at the empty phone. Shaky hands putting it down, closing your eyes.

In that moment you suddenly remembered where Thanos kept some of his drugs. Ideas rushing back to your mind, ideas you've tried to ignore. But the alcohol rushing trough your veins made your mind beg for it, for a release.

Hopping off the couch, accidentally letting bottles shatter as you could barely walk, but you couldn't be bothered. Setting your destination to the bedroom.

You could still remember his voice, blabbering out how strong these new drugs are, your eyes setting on a colourful puny pill you picked up. You could just take the pragmatic approach. Letting the pills fall and rest your body, whom is filled to the brim with liquor. But, why should you? You contemplated, thoughts whirling inside your head as you just stared. Staring at the small pill in your hand that could change everything.

Glancing at your phone beside you, no indication of a message, you knew your choice. Popping the pink pill in your mouth, immediately feeling a difference in your body, a sudden feeling of drowsiness washing over you.

People really weren't lying with how strong even one pill was. Your brain not comprehending anything, mushed by the alcohol and the newly intruding drug in your vein.

You lost your balance, the weight off your body too much to bear as you simply collapsed against the floor, drunken smile on your face, pupils dilated, the world around you becoming smaller.

Giggling for no reason, you let out slurred words, seemingly talking with yourself before the drowsiness traveled to your eyes.

Not fighting the sleepiness, the room blurring as you let your body go limp, mouth agape with your irregular breathing, eyes closed, the darkness so comforting to you. Your thoughts chewed up, exactly how you wanted it, as everything went blank.

Now passed out on the floor, your body not being able to react as your phone buzzed beside your face, the screen enlightening as a message was delivered.

Thanos had a big smile on his face, finally being able to come back as he strode to the door. How long has it been? His fingertips wanting to relish the softness of your skin again, your lips clashing against his. Gosh, he couldn't wait.

The blinds were pulled down, not being able to peek over them. Impatiently pulling against the doorknob, but instead of being met with your lovely perfume, a lingering smell of cigarettes and alcohol were in the atmosphere.His smile faltered, yet his voice still called out with a tinge of hope. Within seconds of no presence to be known, he rushed into the living room and let out a small gasp.

An immense amount of beer and wine bottles laying everywhere, glass shatters between gaps they didn't fill. He knew you as the girl who threw up after 2 shots of vodka, the girl that forced him to take a shower if there even a slight smell of alcohol coming from him.

"What's all this? Heyy, where are you!?"

Worry depend though as your figure could not be seen anywhere, his words once again the only ones that echoed trough his ear. Despair now coming in as he looked around the house, only finding out where you've been once the bedroom door creaks.

Your hair over your face as you were laid down on the floor, familiar pills right beside you.

There's no way, right? You wouldn't have taken what he thought you did, he always tried his best to not let his bad habits rub off on you. He's been away for so long, he couldn't even stop you.

He kneeled in front of you, shaking you, yet your eyes didn't budge. A sign of life was against his fingers as your pulse was irrational, yet still there. He was simply in disbelief, staring down at your resting face.

He wanted to see you, not just a limp body. The urge to take the pill you still held in your hand becoming strong, but he refused. He couldn't do that to you. Breaking out of his trance as his arms wrapped around your torso, freezing to the touch as he lifted you up on the bed.

"Fucking hell...why didn't you tell me" he muttered to himself, running his hands trough his coloured hair. A 'surprise' he wanted to show you.

He normally didn't mind the smell of alcohol or cigarettes, but he couldn't help the scrunch of his face when he smells it on you. That shouldn't be there, guilt now evident in his face.

Sighing, he got out some pain killers for tomorrow placing them nearby before simply plopping down beside you and hugging you tightly, fingers creeping back to your pulse. The stress was too much to deal with, and with not wanting to get high, your one sided embrace set his mind at ease. Not long before his loud snores came back, setting his worries aside for tomorrow.

･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ･ﾟ

Waking up with an ache in your head, your body sore as you softly groaned. You could barely remember last night, mind hazy as your memory seemingly left you. Yet your body was warm and flushed against an unknown person.

A strong and familiar grip around your waist, ears now picking up snores in the air. Nose filled with the smell of alcohol and an extra added weight was on top of your head.

Your breaths turned to small pants, all the evidence leading to the person you've longed for.

Turning around, you could recognise that face anywhere, even beneath the veil of darkness. Eyelashes fluttering up to see his relaxed features.

Gosh, you wanted to scream, to hit him and blame him for everything. To explain how he ruined you, to let him see his mistake, your candor personality spilling everything. But at the same time, his warmth was all you were begging for. Wishing his idiotic face would leave marks all over you.

Overwhelmed. Emotions all over the place, you simply let your head fall onto his broad shoulders. Sniffles coming as tears swelled in your eyes. No matter how conflicted you feel, your tears could always stain his shoulders. The ache in your body only adding to the situation as your arms wrapped around him tightly, wanting your skin to feel his touch.

He gently stirred, but you couldn't pay attention to it, your focus on the tears streaming down your face. You were disillusioned that you let yourself get to this point, how could you? What was-

A hand on your head broke the train of thoughts, caressing your hair. The touch was surprisingly gentle, accompanied by the metal on his fingers.

"Go to sleep, señorita. Rest up." he hushed in your ear, pushing your face in the direction of his neck.Your instincts rushed to let your head nuzzle against his neck, stifling your sniffles as he softly smirked against you.

You'll save your energy to argue for tomorrow, when the day is young and your mind more clear. For now, you let his embrace guide you back to sleep. Mumbling out a 'I love you' before closing your eyes.

How you missed this.

[creole-cappy]

While much of this (particularly the parts about many men's unwillingness to mature and value women respectfully and compassionately) are true, as another voice in the world, I would like to add that there's obviously cultural/value differences at play in the shaping of these dynamics as well.

I agree that the male loneliness "epidemic" is almost entirely self-imposed, but let's not forget that the trends of women's reactions and responses to their treatment by men is just as direct or indirect as men's reactions and responses to their treatment by women, with the added influence of socialization, economic stability (because why wouldn't feelings of existential security affect social attitudes and personal priorities?) and any relevant kind of abuse or manipulation people face at large in both cases.

The patriarchal ideas of social norms affect everyone equally damagingly. It serves neither men nor women for people not to be able to trust and respect each other. Men are very obviously in a cultural/cross-cultural trial of sorts, THANKS TO the liberalization of social norms that countered the fascistic, patriarchal trend of women (and children) being the property of men. That is where the entitlement comes from. It's not the more liberal values that encourage entitlement, it's clinging to ideas of women as means to an end that supports their commodification in things like porn for instance. If anything, the divergence from men being "providers" is a humanization of their being and something which (rightfully imo) supports their emotional autonomy and maturity as humans with natural rights. It's not good to treat women OR men as simply means to an ends.

Never used dating apps much, never really cared to involve myself in "hook-up culture". It seems to be vapid and the driving force behind the situationship problem where people can't openly attach to one another while acknowledging they truly desire emotional intimacy. I won't speak much on it because that's just something I know little about. The comments about the "DL epidemic" also seem just like an opinionated distaste for non-hetero norms. If it's not your thing, why bother with it? (What's odd to me is I hear FAR more about women's non heteronormative trends in recent times, but again, never really substantiated with research or something to make it more than anecdotal claims)

Regardless of how anyone feels or thinks, if men and women can't find a way to manage maturity and respect, everyone's gonna feel the consequences. Men in particular have to really see this manosphere bs for what it is (narcissistic misogyny) and understand their mother is a very significant relative who is NOT a model for how all women should be seen or related to.

@ men, grow up, actually tap into those feelings you were trained to ignore, humble yourself, stop trying to be kings and superheroes and start being good friends and kind people.

The parental-relationship thing also goes for women and their fathers. Treating a man like a security measure is a sure way to embody the exact same kind of narcissism, entitlement, and lack of compassion that causes men to treat women like toys and breeding tubes. You're not obligated to respect somebodies choices without your own boundaries, but you are obligated to acknowledge their humanity and their struggle to make something out of their life. This is everybody's first time on earth. Neither women nor men can cherry pick what parts of the patriarchy are "good" for them and get away with it. It was explicitly made to destroy emotional maturity and trust, because that (compassion and trust) is not what superiority looks like. So if a man is a pathetic pos and a danger to others, other men should check him and keep that ego small. If a woman is entitled and emotionally abusive to the men in her life, I'd like to ask other women to find a way to help each other not ruin your own chances for healthy relationships and happiness. It takes two to tango. It takes a village to raise a child.

Since we have to deal with the influences from others, we may as well start adding some positive influences into the equation ourselves. If you aren't sure what that looks like, now's always a good time to learn. My recommendations to anyone who wants to make sure they have the healthiest relationships, romantic or not, are to learn about your attachment style, learn about your personal or cultural values and the dynamics that support them, to think about your childhood and figure out what you learned or internalized from it, and lastly, to really ask yourself if you want mutual respect or power over others. If the solution to you is wielding power against men/women, I hope you know why.

Tldr, a lot of men are fucked up and it's their fault they aren't getting better, but maturity takes learning and effort. Many women (probably less egregiously common than the men) are also immature af and the cause of their own problems if they refuse to learn & grow. Discriminate accordingly for your personal relationships. Don't look to people you don't like for connection, and don't act like being narcissistic is gonna make you happy.

P*rn, dating apps/hook up culture, and 50/50 normalization are the three main culprits as to why the men of this generation seem so different than men from previous ones, and why so many beautiful and accomplished women are unable to secure a relationship without settling. Men always had their issues collectively, but it was never to the degree that we see today, and it’s largely due to the normalization from an early age to those three things.

The brains of men these days have been wired in a completely overly s3xualized manner. They don’t view women as people but as objects of strict desire and nothing else. Consumption of p*rn has not only given them unrealistic expectations of intimacy, it has influenced their s3xual orientations (see DL epidemic), and their social behaviour. Nowadays many don’t find regular girls attractive, which is why they choose to engage in “taboo” activities to feel some arousal. This leads them to becoming socially inept and to falling easy prey to manosphere content that only reinforces the objectification and dehumanization of women.

Dating apps then come in as an easy way for these men get the illusion of options, because while they might be generally not attractive, in the apps they get instant access to women they otherwise would never have in real life. And because many women have become desperate, by entertaining these men and giving them easy access to their bodies, the men no longer feel like they have to improve and work on themselves to attract a quality partner. It also gives them the idea that women are disposable because at any point they can ghost them for no reason and then swipe right to get another one. It makes them devalue access to us.

This easy access is then transferred to their expectations of relationships. They abuse the concept of equality to manipulate women into financially abusive arrangements where she’s expected to provide fiscally while also performing her feminine duties and taking care of a grown, able-bodied man. Naturally this continues to reinforce men’s lack of respect and gratitude for women in their lives, while increasing their own sense of self-importance, narcissism, ineptitude, and ungratefulness.

Obviously women are not responsible for the actions of men, but we do have the power to not reinforce and condone their sick ways. By deleting dating apps, standing our ground when we oppose 50/50 dating, and choosing to remain abstinent until marriage, we are taking the power dynamics back to our advantage. No, you are not unreasonable for not wanting to be with a man who consumes p*rn, or who wants to be sexually fluid with other men, or who views red pill content that dehumanizes you, or seems unwilling to provide things for you and cherish you in his life. It’s on you to stand firm in your decision to only entertain the gentlemen whose mindsets haven’t been completely fried by modern societal trends.

The “male loneliness epidemic” that we hear so much about is entirely self inflicted (not that anyone cares when it’s women who are lonely), and it’s a direct response to women saying no more to men who exhibit the behaviours outlined above. Hold the line, because they either leave their toxic ways and get better, or they will doom themselves to a life of solitude. Either way, that is their responsibility to fix, not yours.

[wonderjanga]

Imagine Billy and Mary and Freddy say from the start that they're siblings.

And the three of them somehow are all homeless street kids. Chaotic little gremlins.

And one day Black Adam sees them transform and is like 'WHAT THE ACTUAL-'.

And you choose what happens next-

Teth didn’t even know how this happened. Or, well, he does, but he’s still having a hard time comprehending it. See, he was minding his business in an appropriate(suspicious) disguise while scouting Fawcett for the Champion. As for why he was looking for the champion, it was because the man was missing. The champion having disappeared was suspicious, considering the man washed over his city like a hawk. Anyways, he was walking around when all of a sudden he just spots this child with the bluest eyes he’s ever seen with a little girl who also has the bluest eyes he’s ever seen. The little boy unfortunately noticed him.

Billy: “Can I help you, mister?”

Ah. Adam was staring. Though, that was mostly because the young boy looked strikingly like Aman. Anyways, Adam didn’t even know how it happened, but one moment he was talking to the kid, the next he was giving him a bunch on Kahndaqi currency as if that’ll be useful to the boy. The kid still took it though.

Billy: *bright ahh smile* “Thanks, mister!”

Black Adam: “Yes…” *wondering if the kid used mind control for a moment* “I am now off to go torment Captain Marvel. Good day, stupid children.” *flies off*

Mary, Freddy, and Billy: *offended* “Hey!” *watch him go*

Billy: *still watching him fly off* “…Adam really sucks at disguising himself.”

Freddy: “No duh, he literally said he was gonna go torment you.”

Mary: *picks up one of the coins Adam gave them* “Do you guys think we could trade this with a fairy for money? They like shiny stuffs.”

Billy: “We probably could.”

Anyways, fast forward, three months and Teth, whenever he was in Fawcett, which was unfortunately becoming more and more frequent, kept feeding and giving money to these three little urchins that are somewhat (it’s actually more than somewhat, but he would never admit it) tolerable.

Then, the fateful day came. The children were standing at their usual spot, and Adam was flying over. Then, the blasted little old bald fool with the glasses, psoriasis or Savana or whatever his name was started attacking. The children ran into an alleyway, and because of the fact Adam could care less about Savannah he flew after them because the alleyway looked shady. He was then greeted with the three of them… transforming… into his worst enemies. Specifically, the one who looked like Aman, Billy, transformed into the Champion.

After the fight with Sivana…

Black Adam: “You…”

Marvel: *startles* “Black Adam! What’re you doing here?” *suspicious*

Black Adam: *ignores him and is kind of angry monologging* “I’ve… I’ve been giving you three money and food for months… You’ve been making a fool of me!”

Marvel, Junior, and Mary: *share looks with each other cause ��uh oh, he knows*

Marvel: “Uh… well, no. We all actually eat all that and make good financial choices. All the money I get from my job goes to rent, and on top of that we all work odd jobs for food and utility money. You’ve been a great help.” *super duper sincere*

Junior and Mary: “You’ve helped us a lot, mister!”

Black Adam: “You’ve still been making a fool of me! Also, why do you three have the power of the Living Lightning?! You’re children!”

Junior: “So?”

Black Adam: “So, none of you should have anything to do with the Rock of Eternity or being the World’s Mightiest Mortal!”

Mary: “That’s more the Wizard’s fault, not ours. Or wait no, that’s Billy fault cause he’s the one who gave us our powers.”

*silence*

Black Adam: “…I can’t believe I’ve been fighting children the entire time.”

Junior: “I know, right? And you still lose.”

Black Adam: *wants to get angry at that but just can’t muster it* “I…” *in his mind says ‘f this’, turns around and flies off*

Adam basically stewed in anger while in Kahndaq before he came back after like a week and started feeding and giving money to the kids again. He now just ignores the fact that he knows Billy is Cap and just chooses to believe that they’re two different people and still fights him.

[br0nzefox]

I’ve seen quite a few people complaining about how quick Will forgave Hannibal for killing Abigail and I have some thoughts

So first of all I don’t think Will (or Hannibal for that matter) loved Abigail.

Will cared about Abigail because he felt responsible for killing her father. I also think he loved the idea of having a child.

After all he doesn’t deny feeling paternal about Abigail and as they later discuss with Hannibal having a step child / surrogate child allows Will not to be scared of passing on his traits he’s afraid of.

So to sum it up Will loves the idea of having Abigail as child. Will cares about the potential Abigail represents, but not Abigail as a separate person.

Hannibal sees Abigail as an opportunity to have an apprentice. She interests him. He sees the groundwork her father has laid and he thinks he can push her to become like him. I think Hannibal also sees Abigail as a tie to Will. A way to keep Will close to him. (Which is also why I think Hannibal doesn’t hesitate to kill Abigail - he wants to hurt Will and he wants to sever that tie he has to Will). So to put it simply Hannibal cares about the potential Abigail represents, but not Abigail as a separate person.

As you probably noticed among the feelings I mentioned - a love for Abigail is not on the list. After all Will’s paternal feelings, Hannibal wanting to get closer to Will and their care for the potential Abigail is does not equate love for Abigail as a person. So Hannibal killing Abigail was not him taking away someone Will loved, it was him taking away that potential.

Second reason I think Will seemingly forgave Hannibal so quickly for killing Abigail is that he didn’t really forgive Hannibal (neither did Hannibal forgive Will for his betrayal). Will and Hannibal’s relationship is complicated. Their love is complicated. Their love isn’t one dimensional. It has enough room for hatred and anger and betrayal. They simply choose to look past it. To ignore it for their own convenience. To love each other despite it. To love each other with it.

As Will said himself their relationship is based on ignoring the worst of each other to enjoy the best.

I think they would view past hurts as steps in the path that led them to where they are.

And the final point: they don’t have a choice other than to forgive each other (in whatever form forgiveness looks like for them). Not really. As Hugh Dancy himself said about their relationship: “imagine you are playing chess and you are the only person in the world who plays chess, and then someone else walks in the room with a chess board”.

They are two of a kind. And for the longest time they both thought they were the only one, that they were unique, doomed to be alone in that uniqueness. And then they met someone like them. Someone interesting. Someone who could understand. They each got a taste of companionship, of understanding, of being seen. And after that, going back to their aloneness would have been a different kind of death. It would have been devastating. After seeing what they could have they just couldn’t go back to how they used to be.

Will and Hannibal have no choice other than to seek the other’s company despite everything because they know they can never meet anyone who could understand them, who could see them. Not how the other can.

Betrayal, killing Abigail, killing Beverly pales in comparison to that extasy of beeing known. They would be willing to tolerate, to accept almost any amount of pain from the other, in return for that pleasure.

They are doomed to each other.

[melercies]

imagine this...

pairing(s): nam-gyu x pinkguard!reader (specifically triangle) x thanos imagine

warning(s): gender-neutral reader(!!), slightly suggestive at the end. Read at your own risk, intended use of lowercase. my best interpretation of these two characters.

author's note: I PULLED UP BOTH OF THEIR WIKIS TO READ AND TRY GET THEIR CHARACTERS FROM THEIR PERSONALITY. i remembered that i had request this as an anon towards someone's blog (specifically midnite-c6; heavily inspired by their incredible writing), and figured to emphasize it with some ideas of my own. i'm grateful for them for writing it. I did give a subtle background for the reader too. :) Please let me know if I missed anything. Likes, Reblogs and Comments are highly appreciated!

you were simply just like any other ordinary pink guard, managing, upkeeping, and enforcing the rules of this horrendous game under the order of the Front Man. since you were given the opportunity to work as a soldier in the games due to the hopeless situation you were in before becoming a pink solider. desperate times calls for desperate measures you suppose.

all you had to do was follow the rules; never remove your masks to reveal your identity, no questioning of any command given or initiate any friendships to gain any forms of attachment. just eliminate players and make sure none of the contestants broke any of the game's guidelines. simple enough, right?

wrong. there were two particular contestants that had caught your attention. you shouldn't have been intrigued by them, you mentally scolded yourself. But it was hard not to be. they were literally acting as if these death games were the same as a children's playground. it was absurd. but it was amusing...to say the least.

after watching the purple-haired contestant who seems to go by the name, thanos, who was skipping around, killing players and having the time of his life in red light, green light along with nam-gyu following around, and partaking within the tense conflict between player 333, thanos and himself, you've made your choice.

of course, you were cautious and careful about the decisions you've made. you were as subtly as possible, if you were caught, dire consequences were to be delivered your way or, to save the effort and time, kill you.

you've made sure to ensure their safety for now, wanting to keep them alive to draw out the possibilities as to what they could do next to entertain you. even if it meant to kill other contestants unfairly as you kept a sharp eye towards their direction.

you've given them small advantages sneakily here and there, managing to slip by without a singular witness or anyone catching what you were doing. going from preventing conflicts that could get both of them killed to giving them extra food within their meals given in comparison to other players' meals.

of course, it didn't take long til one of them took notice before informing the other. the only question lingering within their minds, why? they knew you were one of the guards who were tasked to eliminate those who lose within the games, so why are you...helping them?

despite the triangular mask you wore to conceal your identity, they plan to find out who you were and confront to you. both keeping a rather particular eye on you. they knew which guard you were, often catching you taking a slight subtle glance towards their direction or they could just sense it, they just fucking knew it was you.

especially when it came to meal times, you would stand there with one hand that held a drink and the other that held the given sustenance (if you could even call it a proper nourishment for the players...) giving each player their limited ration, ignoring their complaints and noises of disbelief until it came to them.

the main dormitory was noisy, filled with the atmosphere of weary players who had just endured another brutal round. the smell of the tasteless food wafted through the air, mixing with the lingering fear and tension that never seemed to fade in this place. the players grumbled and complained about their meager rations, their voices filled with frustration, but you, as always, stood motionless behind the food station, handing out the same bland meal to each one of them.

the mask you wore, that stark triangular symbol, was meant to hide everything; your face, your emotions, your identity. to blend in with the other guards, to remain invisible. but it was becoming harder. they were starting to notice you.

as you handed out the meal to the next few contestants, you couldn't help, but feel their eyes on you. nam-gyu's calculating gaze lingered for a moment longer than necessary, though he remained silent. thanos, however, was blatant. both of them trying to figure you out despite the appearance you kept up was hard enough to get a read from.

when thanos had appeared next in line, you could feel the tension between you, thick and almost palpable. thanos was grinning, his usual cocky self, but this time there was something behind that grin, something more calculated in the way he sized you up. nam-gyu stood behind him, calm as ever, but you could see the flicker of something behind his eyes. an awareness that wasn't there before.

you moved to hand thanos his ration, a carton of milk and bread wrapped in plastic. you handed it to him with your usual blank expression, but before you could pull your hand away, you subtly slide an extra piece of bread, quickly and barely for anyone to notice.

thanos didn't flinch, didn't make any overt sign that he saw it. he simply took the rations with a slow, deliberate motion, his eyes not leaving you for a second. he stared at the food in his hands, looking back at you with a sly, knowing smile before turning around and heading back to his bunk. nam-gyu, on the other hand, stepped forward, an undeniable intensity within his eyes. he knew. they both knew. the question now was what they'd do with this knowledge.

without saying another word, you turned and moved to hand nam-gyu his rations, finding your own heart racing, but maintained the same calm demeanor as you slipped an extra piece of bread. just the same thing you've done for thanos, feeling nam-gyu's gaze on your form, sharper than ever.

his fingers had brushed against yours for moment, and you felt a brief shiver at the subtle touch before he politely thanked you. he took his rations and headed where thanos was sitting. you knew that thanos and nam-gyu would be conversing upon it, no one noticing that they were getting these advantages when the other contestants were too busy conversing upon what could possibly be ahead for them or the food in front of them.

you handed out the last of the rations with a quick, controlled motion, ignoring the lingering eyes of thanos and nam-gyu. "enjoy your meal," you stated, your voice cool, almost disinterested. then, without another word, you turned and moved away, the weight of their scrutiny following you.

it was risky. you knew it was, and yet, you still continued on. both of them were still alive. because of you.

there was at one point, where thanos had tried offering you the small pills inside his cross necklace which you were questioning as to how it managed to get within the game itself with no detection. which you declined, shaking your head while nam-gyu was poking your body, and touching your mask. you didn't know if he was doing this out of curiosity or simply for his own enjoyment, but each touch caused you to flinch and when he was about to pull your mask off, you didn't hesistate to lift your gun and point it directly at him as a warning. obviously, they backed off from that, not wanting to get killed.

questions would tend to spur towards you between both of them, but you never answered a singular question of theirs. and it certainly didn't take long til a confrontation occured during your shift of covering the bathrooms, making sure no one is causing trouble. one of your shifts would be where things would certainly take a turn for you.

the dimly lit corridor of the bathroom hallway felt strangely still, a quiet echo of the chaos that always surrounded the players. you stood with you back pressed against the cold wall, your triangular mask in place, you eyes scanning the hallway within an unblinking focus. the task was simple, stand guard, make sure no players caused trouble, and ensure no one broke the rules. as long as you kept your distance, it was easy to blend in.

but tonight was different. the air felt charged, a tense electricity crackling around you as you stood. you had a feeling something was coming, and when thanos and nam-gyu appeared, you knew the storm was finally here.

thanos strutted toward the bathroom door with his usual carefree swagger, his purple hair messy and wild. but his eyes, those sharp, calculating eyes, flicked toward you for a split second, and you could feel the weight of his gaze. he had already started to sense something.

behind him, nam-gyu walked more slowly, his posture calm, but there was a sharpness in his steps. he had always been more observant, and it didn't take long for his eyes to lock on you as well. you did your best to keep still, not giving anything away, but they were too good. they knew.

"you," thanos's voice broke the silence, teasing but with an edge of something darker. he stopped in front of you, his lips curling into a smirk as he looked you over, then glanced to nam-gyu. "i knew it was you. always watching, always giving us just enough. don't think i didn't notice, guard."

"you've been helping us," nam-gyu said, his voice low, almost cold. "extra food, extra attention...you're not just doing your job. you're playing a different game, hmm?"

thanos's grin widened, sensing the opportunity. he leaned in, close enough that his breath fanned against your triangular mask. the one thing that separated both you and him, and you somehow found yourself gripping the firearm in your hands tighter. "what's your angle, guard? what are you getting out of this? you've been pretty... generous to us, haven't you?" his voice dripped with amusement, but there was something more dangerous in the way he spoke now.

you stood there, frozen for a moment, your heart pounding under the mask. you have been careful. you have bee subtle. but here you were, both of them were standing in front of you, catching onto your quiet acts of defiance. the games weren't just about survival for them; they were about control, about manipulation and right now, they were flipping that dynamic onto you.

before you could respond or move away, thanos's hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with a sudden force that left no room for protest. "you're not going anywhere," he said, his voice low and insistent, a playful glint in his eyes as he pulled you towards a door that lead to the men's bathroom. "we've got some questions for you, guard." nam-gyu didn't need to speak; the message was clear. you weren't going to get away without giving proper answers.

the door to the men's bathroom slammed shut behind you as thanos pushed you inside, dragging you further into the dimly lit room. it was empty; just you, thanos, and nam-gyu.

thanos leaned in, his breath hot against your mask as he whispered, "you thought you could sneak by, didn't you? you thought you could just help us without anyone noticing." he took a step back, his grin growing wider, more dangerous.

nam-gyu moved closer, his movements deliberate, but a quiet power was evident in his eyes that sent a shiver through you. "you've been careful, but not careful enough," he said, his voice mockingly soft yet piercing. "we know what you've been doing. and now you're doing to explain it to us, right?"

you took a slow step back, but thanos was faster, his hand shooting out to block your retreat. his fingers brushed against you as he leaned in once more. "you've been playing both sides, haven't you? helping us, getting close. do you like it? do you like being close to us?"

the tension between the three of you was thick, the silence hanging in the air, broken only by your steady breaths underneath the mask. you had never been this close to them before, and now the weight of their scruntiny was more suffocating than you had anticipated.

thanos stepped forward, his face inches from yours, his smirk never wavering. it almost felt he and nam-gyu could see through your mask. "you're not so good at hiding, are you? i can feel it. you want something more from us, don't you?" his voice was suddenly soft, almost teasing though, as if he were savoring the moment. "maybe you just want to be seen."

nam-gyu didn't speak immediately as you felt nam-gyu suddenly holding onto your mask, almost as if he was about to lift it and reveal your identity towards them. his other hand holding onto your shoulder in a grip, rubbing it slightly. you didn't stop him, remaining completely still. "you're playing a dangerous game, y'know?" nam-gyu murmured close.

the words hung in the air, thick with tension, and just as you thought they might let you go, thanos leaned in, a final whisper of threat in his voice. "i think you like this. being caught. being trapped between us." his hand grazed your arm as he spoke, his grip tightening slightly on your wrist.

nam-gyu's eyes traced over you, intense and unwavering, his gaze heavy with unspoken meaning. a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he took a step closer. his voice was low, almost a whisper. "you'll figure it out soon enough," he murmured. "what it really means to play with us...and what happens when you finally stop pretending you're not interested." his hand then lifted up your mask.

[kayhi808]

OK, let’s say he comes back from a mission and it was really rough on him and he kind of relapsed into the winter soldier(slightly very very slightly) and Steve let’s reader know that a lot happened. Abby has went away with Natasha for a weekend together as reader was really busy w work. Bucky comes home and is so so on edge and is afraid he will hurt reader and isolates himself especially after he almost hurt reader when she crept up too silent behind him. so he hates himself rn. BUT THEN ABBY RUNS IN OUT OF NOWHERE AND HUGS HIM CUS SHE WAS WAITING FOR HIM TO COME BACK AND BOOM man either lets out the craziest sigh or low keys cries because he realizes he is okay. idk something like that if it makes sense ¯\_(ツ)_/

🧹

Thank you, to my favorite anon!💕 It took me forever to get to this one. This was a lot to go on. It could have gone really dark and angsty, but I'm trying to keep my Abby stories a little lighter. Hope you like it.🤗

Bucky was gone on what turned out to be an intense mission & word just came back that his team was returning. Steve and Bucky were heading the mission so you weren't too worried. You always like when they are sent out together because you knew they had each other's backs. ALWAYS

The quinjet touched down & the crew disembarked. You saw Bucky and Steve walking down the ramp, deep in conversation. As soon as Bucky made eye contact with you, you felt something was wrong. Then he veered away from you to another entry into the Tower and you knew something was very wrong.

You started to follow him, but Steve blocked your path. "What happened? What's wrong with Bucky??"

"Y/N, give him some time, this mission was rough on him."

"Is he hurt? Is he ok?"

"Physically he's fine..."

Impatiently, "then tell me what happened!"

"It's his story to tell. He needs a little bit of time to sort out the demons in his head. That's all."

"That's all?!?"

"It's what he wants."

******

You were able to give him 2 days to himself, until you caved in & tried calling Bucky just to hear his voice. For him to tell you he's ok but needs time to himself. You'd understand that. But for him to send your call to voicemail pissed you off. You left a message last night & today's you were leaving to pick up Abby, you tried again & you got his voicemail.

"Babe? Can you please call me back, text me...or something, so I know you're alive yet purposefully ignoring me? That would be great." You sigh, "Is this how we are going forward in this relationship? This will be the new communication norm?"

You gather your things to head out of the building, but up ahead you see Steve & Bucky. You hurry to catch up with them. You grab onto Bucky's arm & before you can even say his name, his hand is on your sternum, and you're shoved against the wall. A startled yelp escapes & he releases you immediately. "Fuck!" His hands drop to your arms, "Are you ok? Did I hurt you?" Steve pulls Bucky back.

You reach for his hands, "I'm fine. You startled me." You look up at him and he looks so tired. You go to hug him but he pulls away from you. "Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on, Buck?" You turn to Steve, "Would you do me a big favor and pick-up Abby from pre-school, please?"

"Yea, sure " He shoots Bucky a worried glance before he leaves.

*****

Once you're back at Bucky's residence, "Are you ready to tell me what happened?" You flop yourself down on his couch.

"I can't... I can't let those things...touch you. You don't need to know about HYDRA."

"Bucky, I know about HYDRA. I work here! Nick Fury is my boss."

"You don't need to know about the Winter Soldier. You don't need to know about me back then." Bucky stops pacing & drops down into his chair.

"You don't think I've done my research before dating you? Before I let you be around my daughter? What you did back then was not your fault. You weren't given a choice. HYDRA had control of you. Babe, you are not the same person."

"I'm still capable..."

You move to sit at the foot of his chair, "No! Stop it."

"Doll, I could have killed you back there!"

"You didn't. You wouldn't. You're James Barnes, not the Winter Soldier!" You squeeze his hands. "Talk to me, Bucky. Let me share your burden. We're in this life together. Please tell me what happened."

With a deep sigh, "We went to hit an active HYDRA base camp." You nod. "Doll, there were cribs there. In the lab, there were children's bed and restraints." You softly gasp, squeezing his hands tighter. "We couldn't locate any of the children, but now I know they're out there somewhere."

"Oh, Bucky." Tears prickling your eyes, "I'm so sorry."

"I killed them all. Whoever was there." You kneel up to wrap your arms around him. It took a while for him to return your hug, but you didn't let go. He gives in and pulls you tightly to him.

"You think I wouldn't do the same if I could? Wouldn't anyone do the same? The only difference is that we don't have your skill set." Pulling away, cradling his face between your palms to get him to look at you, "Just because you have the skills, does not make you the Winter Soldier." You give him a soft kiss. "The job you took on isn't an easy one, but you're making the world a safer place. For people like me and Abby."

"I saw the cribs and beds and I...I thought of Abigail. And...I snapped." You nod.

"I understand how that could happen." Bucky pulls you onto his lap & he holds you for a long time in silence. You offered him comfort any way you could. You understand now why he was so affected by this mission. "You need to talk to me and tell me what's going on. You can't shut me out, Buck. I was so worried. If the situation was flipped, how would you handle me shutting down on you?"

"Not well." He gives you a slight smile.

Nodding, "exactly." You lean back against him as he wraps you in his arms.

"I'm sorry."

*******

Steve picks up Abby and visits with Ms Grace before returning to the Tower, hoping you and Bucky ironed out your differences. He texts you both letting you know he's got Abs in the common room watching TV.

"You knows what, Uncle Steve?"

"No, what Abs."

"Chloe and Mia says a new Lilo & Stitch movies coming outs."

"Oh, yea? Wow."

Abby stands up on the couch next to Steve and slings her arm across his shoulders. "Rights?? I so 'cited! You know what, Uncle Steve?"

"No, what Abs?"

"You wants to take me to the Lilo & Stitch movies?"

"Won't your Mama and Bucky take you to see it? Did they say no?" Steve has to ask. He's not going to be caught up in one of Abby's tricks and get in trouble with you.

"Mama gonna takes me, but you can takes me," holding up two fingers, "two time." She gives Steve a sweet smile.

"Abigail."

She cackles. "What if I likes it so much and wants to sees it again? Like Wicked?"

Steve rolls his eyes, "Fine. If you like it so much, I'll take you to watch it again."

Abby squashes her cheek against Steve's while strangling him around the neck, "Oh, tank you! Yous the best Uncle in all the worlds!" She sees Bucky in the doorway and Uncle Steve is quickly forgotten. "Papa! You homes!!" She bounces off the couch and runs to Bucky with arms spread wide.

Bucky steps back, away from your incoming toddler, banging into you. "It's ok, Bucky."

Abby doesn't slow down, so Bucky is forced to catch her and lift her into his arms. "I missed-ed you so much!" Abby peppers his face with kisses. She pulls away & squishes his face between her palms, "You missed-ed me, too?" A happy hopeful smile on her face.

Bucky nods, answering quietly, "Yea, baby. I missed-ed you, too," dropping a kiss on her nose which makes her do a happy wiggle.

@waywardhunter95 @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @buckitostan @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05 @ozwriterchick @crazyunsexycool @baw1066 @nommingonfood @jvanilly

[nick-writes-stuff]

Special Delivery

Hwang In-ho x gn!reader

summary: After Dae-ho goes into shock, you decide to take the ammo out to the rebelling players. You witness your closest ally turn on the other players, but after you are injured, he proves his loyalty to you. (~5k words)

!warnings: canon-typical violence, seriously injured reader, mentions of PTSD, swearing, use of y/n

---

As your friends started planning to overpower the guards, you couldn't help but feel nervous. While you believed in the cause, you just had a bad feeling that this wasn't going to go the way they hoped. When the group split apart after Gi-hun's presentation of his plan for the upcoming brawl, you found yourself sitting next to Young-il. You tried to ignore your heart leaping every time your shoulders touched, no matter how fleeting.

“What do you make of all of this?” He asked you.

You sighed with a shrug. “I don't know. I think it's a worthwhile fight, but it won't be an easy one.” You said. You glanced over at him. "And you?" You asked.

He nodded slightly. “I don't know either. We tried so hard to make it through the games, so going out there and risking our lives feels like we're throwing it all away.” He said.

You paused for a moment. “I could give you the lecture of ‘It's for the good of the people’ but that's bullshit.” You said.

He turned and looked at you, surprise evident on his face.

You turned to look at him. You spoke with a serious tone. “You don't have to do this, you know?” He stared at you for a moment. “You can say no.”

He shook his head. “I can't just abandon them like that. That's hardly what a good friend would do”

“You have every right to value your own safety over the good of the people, so deciding not to help doesn't make you a bad person. ” You said softly. “It's your choice.”

He sighed. This conversation was fascinating to him when he considered his position. Would you still say that if you knew who he really was?

After a moment of silence, you looked back over to him. “I won't think of you any differently if you decide not to help stop the games.” You said softly.

His breath caught in his throat as he turned to you. He was suddenly aware of your proximity to him. His eyes landed on your lips, but before anything could happen, he heard the commotion coming out of the hall that led to the bathrooms.

He leaned back a bit before clearing his throat. You felt your cheeks flush, but you didn't say anything. You made your way to where your alliance was typically placed and crawled under the bed.

As this plan continued to unfold, you got increasingly more nervous about how good of an idea this was. You knew that some of them had military experience, but this seemed like an uneven fight. What were a dozen starving, sleep deprived players with limited ammo going to do to take down the small militia carrying out these games?

Before they left, you took a step toward them. “Good luck out there.” You said. Your eyes scanned the group before landing on Young-il. “Come back here safe, alright?” You were both speaking to the group and him specifically. He smiled slightly, giving you a nod before following the rest out.

You stood still there for a moment, but you eventually sat on a bed near Jun-hee. She was really the only one you knew who was still in the room. You've talked to some of the others before, but she was the only one you really felt safe around. You would be screwed if none of them returned. All of your allies were in danger. You'd be left alone.

Even outside of the strategic aspect, you didn't think you would be able to get over their deaths. How could you? Especially Young-il. That first night after Red Light Green Light when neither of you could sleep, it cemented him as your closest friend here.

And you tried to hide it as much as possible, but your feelings for him had grown more than platonic. You knew it was stupid to let yourself catch feelings while in a death game. You mentally scolded yourself every time you felt butterflies in your stomach whenever he laughed at a joke you made. You pretended you didn't feel sparks fly anytime you accidentally touched him. When he grabbed your hand during Mingle, you felt like you could faint.

The only thing that made you hesitate was the fact that he later used that hand to break a man's neck right in front of you.

He knew what was happening despite your attempts to hide it. He found it fascinating, but he couldn't lie and deny that the feeling wasn't mutual. It would be hypocritical to call you naive when he was in the same boat. He had come into the games to watch over Gi-hun and learn more about what makes the man tick, but he found something that intrigued him even more. You.

Maybe it was twisted for him to say, but he was very curious about how you would react when you thought he was dead. And that thought led him to consider finding a way to let you live. But what would you do if you found out he was pulling the strings?

You didn't know what to feel right now. You wanted to be hopeful, but you couldn't quell the feeling that something was going to go wrong. That feeling only grew when you saw Dae-ho rush into the room. He was trembling, fumbling around in the pockets of the deceased guards. You stood up, moving toward him. “Dae-ho, what's going on?” You asked.

He stumbled over his words, hardly getting out a coherent sentence. You thought you heard something about ammunition, and your assumption was confirmed when he shakily grabbed a magazine. You turned back toward Yong-sik and his mother. “Can you guys help gather their magazines?” You asked. Dae-ho stammered out a word of thanks for your help.

The four of you gathered all of the ammo the guards had on their person. It wasn't much at all, definitely less than 20 magazines. It would help a bit, but this seemed like it wasn't going to be enough. Geum-ja had the idea of wrapping them up in his jacket to make a makeshift bag. She said something about having to do that back in the war. You couldn't really focus on her words as Dae-ho ran back to the hall. You took a deep breath before going back to your spot.

You didn't get to stay there that long. He ran back into the room with his hands over his ears. You grimaced, knowing he was probably reliving memories he'd rather forget. But then it hit you that he never delivered the ammo. They needed that ammo desperately.

Despite your better judgment, you got up from your spot, heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” Geum-ja called out.

You looked back at her. “They need that ammo.” You said. You left the room before you could change your mind.

You saw the radio, but you left it there. You wouldn't know how to work one anyway. You found the ammo where he dropped it. You wrapped it back up and started walking into the unknown.

You quickly noticed the broken security cameras, likely Hyun-ju's doing. You followed them and the sound of the gunshots. It made you nervous that you were running into danger, but you couldn't help but imagine how grateful Young-il would be when you brought it to him. The way the lines around his eyes would crease when he smiled.

You stopped yourself from continuing the thought. Daydreaming would get you killed out here.

You didn't see any guards on the way. You didn't know if that was a good or a bad sign. You did eventually find Hyun-ju and the others. Well, some of them.

She looked shocked to see you. “Y/N? What are you doing? Where's Dae-ho?” She asked. She was glad you got here in one piece but she was somewhat shocked at the poor decision making that led to you coming here unarmed.

“Dae-ho is out of commission. I think he's having a PTSD episode.” You said. From what you had gathered, Dae-ho's time in the Marines wasn't exactly a good one. She gave you a knowing look. You set out the magazines on the floor. One of the men came to start distributing the ammo. They got 2 clips each, if that.

You looked around at the people she had left. “Where's everyone else?” You asked. Your heart dropped to your stomach, but you were somewhat relieved by her words.

“456 and 390 ran up ahead a while ago to try to find a control room. They got pinned out there. Young-il and two others went to try to help them.” She said. You tried to hide your instinctive wince upon hearing that. Did he really have to go out and play the hero?

“Do they still need ammo?” You asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, I can run it out to them.” She said.

“Maybe you should stay here. You guys are the last line of defense to the others.” You offered.

She chuckled lightly, but she was definitely confused. “And what are you suggesting?” She asked.

You shrugged. “I could take it.”

She shook her head. “Hell no. That would be a suicide mission, especially without a gun.”

“Who said I wouldn't take a gun?” You countered. Unfortunately, there were a few downed allies among them. Their guns lay next to them without their magazines.

You really didn't want to take the gun.

“Have you ever held a gun before?”

You shook your head. “I could still take one. How hard could it be?”

She looked very annoyed by your statement. She knew there would be no use arguing with you. “I'm not giving you a gun, but if you want to run in there blind and unarmed, I'm not gonna stop you. I'll at least make sure you have some cover.” She leaned down and pulled a few magazines for herself before gesturing to you to take the rest. As you scooped up the rest of the ammo, she yelled “Covering Fire!”

You dashed your way across the balcony they were shooting from. You eventually made it into a set of hallways in a different design scheme than the stairs. You hoped that was a sign that you were on the right track.

And you were on the right track. You could tell because they had made a trail of dead guards, bloody footprints, and broken security cameras.

You were surprised that there weren't more guards out and about. They seemed innumerable every other time you saw them. During Mingle, there had to be 100 guards at least helping to carry out the game. It made you a bit suspicious, but you didn't have much time to think about that.

The sounds of gunfire got louder and louder until you saw movement down a corridor. You stopped to peek out from the corner. You were greeted with teal jumpsuits. Jung-bae and Gi-hun.

You moved close to them. “Hey, don't shoot me.” You called out. Gi-hun jumped and turned toward you. His gun was pointed at you for a moment before he realized it was you.

“Jesus, Y/N, you scared the shit out of me.” He said, exasperated from shock.

Your name got Jung-bae’s attention. “Y/N? What are you doing here? Where's Dae-ho?” He asked.

You hesitated for a moment. Would Dae-ho want you to tell him? Would he be okay with showing that vulnerability, or would he want you to hide that and maintain his ex-marine facade? You decided to tell the truth. It was easier to explain than making up a lie. “I think he's having a PTSD episode. He couldn't come back out here.” You said.

Jung-bae gave a knowing look, just nodding. You hoped that meant he understood.

“But why did you come here unarmed? That's too risky.” Gi-hun asked.

You chuckled. “Hyun-ju wouldn't give me a gun. She was going to run it over to you, but they… took some casualties.” You said, trailing a bit on the last few words. “Where's Young-il?” You asked, raising your voice to be heard over the gunfire. You started to pull out two magazines for Gi-hun from the bundle, handing it to him as he answered you.

“You just missed him. He and two others ran ahead to find a way to ambush them.” He said.

You grabbed two more clips from the bundle for Jung-bae. “Cover me?” You requested. He leaned over and began shooting at the guards. You dashed through the gap, dropping the clips near the man before trying to find where the trio went.

It was fairly easy to guess where they went, seeing as they were only trying to get around the guards. There seemed to be only one way to do that. Everything went quiet for a moment. That made you even more cautious, checking around each corner before you continued. Eventually, you saw who you were looking for. Another figure in a teal jumpsuit with no guards around.

You realized you were smiling. You were happy that he was okay and that you would be able to help him after all and-

A series of gunshots rang through the hall. Your smile dropped. You felt your blood run cold.

If the guards fired… why was Young-il still standing still? As he took a step forward, you slowly crept toward him, praying that he didn't hear you.

“It's over, Gi-hun. I'm sorry.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. You peeked slightly around the corner.

That image would forever be burned in your mind. Young-il was very much alive. He was low to the ground, holding out the radio to the player as he took his last breath. Then fired one more shot into the man's head. He turned a dial on the radio with certainty.

You heard him clearly. You were sure of it.

“Let's wrap this up.”

You started to back up, but you stopped when he turned. Your escape was interrupted by his voice.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He asked. He turned toward you and, in turn, pointed the gun at you without thinking about it.

You froze, instinctively dropping the magazines. You held up your now trembling hands.

He looked at you confused, almost hurt that you thought he would shoot you. Then he realized he was still holding the gun. “Oh shit. No, no, I'm not going to shoot you.” He said, slinging the gun's strap around his shoulder.

“What the hell just happened?” You asked, mostly just confused but also a little nervous.

He sighed. “I know, I have a lot to explain but we can't stay here, okay? Follow me.” He said.

This confused you further. After what you just witnessed, you weren't going anywhere without a bit of explanation. “Where are we going?”

Before he could respond, you heard a pair of footsteps coming from behind you.

Two armed soldiers were coming up the hall. You raised your hands again. One aimed at you. The second lagged behind the other and tried to stop him, reaching for his shoulder and shouting “No, don't!” But he didn't react fast enough, and the soldier put a round in your gut before realizing who he was aiming at.

You screamed, hands shakily touching the wound. Your hand came back bloody. You stumbled slightly, but Young-il caught you, helping you down to the floor.

The voices around you were coming in and out of your awareness. You could see that Young-il was saying something to you, but you only saw his lips moving.

In-ho looked you over. “No, no,no. This wasn't supposed to happen, I'm-” His gaze then darted up to the soldiers.

He glared at the one who shot you. His tone was cold but you could hear the intense anger behind it. “I believe I made the instructions very clear. Player 134 was to be unharmed. Also, your aim could use some work.” He said before aiming his gun at his head and firing.

At the noise of the gunshot, you cried out, thinking someone was going to come finish the job. He looked back down at you with concern. “Hey, hey, it's okay.” He murmured softly.

He gently peeled the shirt from your wound. You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut. “Sorry.” He said. The wound looked to be away from any vital organs, mostly a flesh wound. “You're gonna be fine. I'm going to get someone to help you, okay? You'll be okay.” He rambled, both reassuring you and convincing himself.

He stood up and addressed the soldier who was still living. “Get them to the doctors. If they die, so do you.” He ordered before storming off toward the management room. Honestly, he was going to kill him anyway since he saw his face.

Unfortunately, he still had a part to play in this special game. He entered the control room, going into the restroom that had been deemed the dressing room for the special game. He needed to get dressed into the Front Man ensemble, but first, he tried to scrub your blood from his hands. His hands were trembling, and his breathing was fast. He felt like he could still see the red staining his hands no matter how long he washed them. If you died, he would probably see it for the rest of his life.

Your memory of the next several hours were flashes of hot pink and black and too much blood. You were taken to an area of the compound that was clearly not meant for players to see. It was very industrial compared to the surreal colorful halls meant for the players.

You were eventually lying on a table with someone who appeared to be a doctor standing over you. You heard someone stressing that you were supposed to be kept alive and with your organs. You would have laughed if you weren't in immense amounts of pain. Eventually, you blacked out.

-

You came to on a leather couch in a room you didn't recognize. You felt the dull ache radiating from your side. It took all your willpower to lift the fabric off your stomach. The wound was bandaged up, which was a good sign. They wouldn't have taken the time to dress your wound if they were going to kill you.

Before you could even think about getting up, you heard a door open. You stayed still, not being able to see who it was. You could hear the faint sound of a dial tone, and you heard a voice.

“Front Man speaking:” He started speaking. The voice was coming through a voice filter, but you knew who it was. It was him.

“I believe I made myself clear during our discussion, but apparently, I was mistaken.” You heard him say.

He paused for a moment, presumably listening to the person on the other end of the line.

“I gave them an order which they disobeyed, and we both know what happens to people who disobey orders.” He said.

Despite your better judgment, you decided to attempt to stand up. You slowly sat up, holding your breath and wincing from the pain. You didn't make a sound even though it was intense. From there, you stood up with fewer difficulties. You took a few steps toward him until he started speaking again.

“The player is fine, luckily.”

He was talking about you presumably. And whatever the person on the phone said pissed him off even more.

“It doesn't matter what you think about the orders. You are expected to follow them. I don't care if you think my feelings are clouding my judgment. That's not for you to decide. Now you can either stop your train of thought here or we can discuss your future here in this operation.”

You opened your mouth in surprise. His feelings? What feelings? You were shocked and excited at the prospect that your feelings may be mutual.

“Continue the protocol as usual. The next vote will take place at 0600 tomorrow morning. I'll see you then.” He said shortly before putting down the receiver. He turned around and froze when he saw you.

He stood there for a moment, expecting you to say something, but you just stood there silently. He was confused for a moment until he remembered you were seeing the polygonal facade. He pulled off his hood and the mask, tossing the latter to the floor without a care.

You had already known it was him. That was an easy assumption to make. But seeing the concerned look flash across his face as well as the realization that you had been listening made the butterflies return to your stomach.

“Hey.” You said softly.

He smiled. He closed the distance between you and pulled you into the gentlest hug you had ever had. This hug had been meticulously planned in his mind, just like every other action he takes. He thought out the placement of his hands, the tightness of his embrace, everything.

You melted into his arms, taking in a deep breath and leaning into him.

On the other hand, he was tense, like he was carrying a heavy weight. Which he was. He was carrying the weight of his fear that you would hate him for every decision he has made.

“Thank you.” You murmured.

“How are you feeling?” He asked you.

“Like I got shot.” You said. He could hear the smirk in your voice. You laughed a bit at your own joke, but he just let out a deep sigh. At this, you pulled away to look at him.

He looked anxious, an emotion you never saw in him. Even in the most dangerous situation, he managed to keep a cool and level head. It's something you admired in him, so seeing him so worried about something was concerning. But you need clarification.

“Young-il, what's going-” You began, but he cut you off.

“In-ho.” He said.

“Hm?” You hummed in confusion, eyebrows knitted together.

“My name is In-ho.” He said.

You didn't have much of a reaction to that statement. “In-ho, what's going on?” You repeated. He was taken aback by how nonchalant you were about this whole thing. He just admitted that he'd been lying to you and hiding his identity, but you didn't seem to care.

“You're all stitched up. The doctors made sure of it.” He said

“I mean with what happened before that.” You said. Your voice was a strange mix of stern and soft. You were trying to be gentle, but you wanted answers.

He sighed. He felt his heart drop as he began to speak. “I'm the one who organizes the games.” He admitted. You didn't seem shocked because that felt very obvious to you. “I went into the games to watch Gi-hun and make sure he couldn't succeed with his attempt of a takeover.” He said.

You nodded. “What happened to them?” You asked.

He didn't look at you. “Jung-bae is dead. The higher-ups have plans for Gi-hun.” He said.

That did surprise you. From how Gi-hun explained it, you had assumed the man in the polygonal mask was the man in charge, but apparently, he wasn't as pivotal as previously thought.

“Did you really tell them not to hurt me?” You asked quietly.

His gaze landed on you quickly. “Of course I did.” He said, matter-of-factly. He felt that was obvious. He cared about you more than he could wrap his head around. “I didn't want you to die in here. If you hadn't come out with the ammo, I was going to arrange a way to get you out safely.” He said.

Your eyes widened with surprise. “Oh.” You murmured. You paused for a moment before speaking. “You know, I only came out with the ammo because of you.”

“I'm still not sure what happened there. Why were you the one bringing the ammo?” He asked.

You sighed. “Dae-ho came back and tried to gather the ammo. I think he went into shock. He wouldn't leave, so I brought it out. I didn’t think that would end well if you all ran out of ammo.”

He nodded. “By the way, what were you thinking? You went without a gun?” He asked, playfully scolding you for the poor decision.

You scoffed. “Hyun-ju wouldn't give me one.” You insisted.

“I don't blame her.” He said with a smirk.

You crossed your arms, sending him a lighthearted glare. “You know, next time I'll leave you to rot.” You said, even though you knew that wasn't actually a possibility in this scenario.

He laughed. “How about there's no next time?” He offered.

You smiled at him. After a moment of quiet, you asked the question that part of you was dreading. “So what happens now?” You were afraid he would send you home. Would you ever see him again? He wouldn't kill you… right?

He seemed to have been dreading that quite as well. “I could arrange a ride to the mainland if you would like.” He said softly, trying to gauge your reaction to the statement. “But if you don't hate my guts and think I'm an irredeemable person, you're welcome to stay here if you like.” He offered. He sounded defeated almost, like he already felt like you hated him.

You had to hate him, right? Everyone always does. He put you through all of this. The bloodshed, the danger, the trauma, it was all his doing.

Maybe others would despise him. But not you.

“I told you already, ‘I won't think of you any differently if you decide not to stop the games.’ Remember that?” You asked. “Nothing's changed.”

He shook his head adamantly. “But I put you through all of this. You got shot for goodness sake.” He raised his voice somewhat at the end, clearly getting more emotional. He couldn't pinpoint what emotion it was, but you knew it was just anxiety.

You reached out and touched his shoulder, hoping it would catch his attention and get him to look at you. “You saved my life. Without you, I'd be in a black box.”

“But I-” He said shakily.

“The blame isn't as black and white as you think it is.” You cut him off. You took a deep breath, shoulders shaking slightly. “Plus, outside of here, it probably would have been worse for me.” You said. You hadn't talked about it much, but it wouldn't have been much longer until your debts would have caused some serious dangers to you.

He still wouldn't look at you, so after a few seconds of silence, you continued speaking. “At least here I met you.”

His breath hitched at your words. He finally looked at you, and you could have sworn his eyes looked somewhat misty. You pulled him into a hug.

He quickly reciprocated the hug, no longer as tense as the first, but he was still cognizant of your injury. He tried his best not to shed a tear. He was just so happy. After years of being alone, he finally found someone who wouldn't shut him out just because of his position in the games.

More than that, he finally found someone who he didn't have to push away because he was afraid of them turning on him once they learned of his work.

Cutting ties with his brother was the hardest thing he'd had to do in his life. After the confrontation with Jun-ho, he thought he would have to resign himself to a life of isolation and live with the fact no one would see him as anything more than a ruthless leader ruling with an iron fist and a penchant for murder.

You didn't take much care to the moral dilemma he created. Playing the games firsthand and seeing so many of your friends die really changed you. This same thing would have happened out there. Maybe this wasn't the best solution to this societal issue, but you sure as hell didn't have a different one that would actually work.

Regardless, you really cared about In-ho. You had grown to trust him the most, not only in the games but probably of everyone in your life. You didn't care that he had been hiding his identity or that he was running the death game that could have killed you. He cared about you. He went out of his way to keep you safe. Hell, he was willing to break the strict rules of the games just to save you.

And he'd do it again in a heartbeat. If his work somehow put you in danger, he would do anything for you. He'd burn it all down if he must. You were the first person who had managed to break through the walls that he had put up.

You pulled away from the hug, still standing close to him. When you looked up, he could see a slight mischievous glint in your eye, but he missed your eyes taking a glance at his lips for a fraction of a second.

“You know, after almost dying, I'm going to do something I would have regretted not doing if I had died.” You said. Before he could ask, you grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled him closer to you, pressing your lips against his.

He was surprised for a second, but he quickly began to kiss you back. You smiled slightly against his lips.

This should be something that felt foreign to him. He hadn't kissed anyone since his wife passed. It should remind him of her, but this was an entirely new feeling for him. Kissing you just felt so right.

You felt the same way. He kissed just like you thought he would. Everything felt methodical and planned, but there was also some underlying force underneath it all. It was exhilarating.

When you pulled away, you both were breathless. He chuckled lightly. “You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that.” He said softly. You nodded in return.

There was still more you had to talk about. You wanted more information about how he got involved in the games in the first place. You wanted to know what happened to Gi-hun. You wanted answers, but you allowed yourself to enjoy the moment a little longer.

But maybe this was a decision that would doom several thousand people's lives. You could be dooming Gi-hun by not taking the initiative to get information. Maybe you could save him or even stop the games entirely.

Or maybe you'd be performing a suicide mission. It would ruin the strongest connection you have forged. You could be kicked out of this place and back onto the streets. You would be at the mercy of the loan sharks waiting to take out their prey. Maybe the soldiers would kill you on the spot for trying anything. Maybe In-ho would have to kill you. You'd become another face that would haunt him whenever he dared to close his eyes.

Perhaps it was selfish, but you didn't care.

[twstfanblog]

hello! hope the new year has been going well so far!

i would like to make a request; can i ask for a Vil x reader, can be platonic or romantic your choice, where the reader is an artist that has drawn a portrait of everyone EXCEPT for Vil and he just tries to do everything to get the reader to draw him. like, posing more dramatically while doing mundane things or sets up dramatic lighting in a classroom

just to have the reader finally draw him after he gets caught in the rain or something XD

sorry if this is too much, feel free to change anything or ignore

Draw me, I demand it

Vil x Reader

Vil would insist he wasn't petty or Divine forbid, jealous. He was a celebrity, an icon, he knew his worth more than anyone. But to know one of the few people he'd ever dare call his friend seemed to be purposefully excluding him made him a bit...upset.

The prefect was a lovely person, fun to talk to and occasionally had an outsider perspective on the media he was engrossed in. While they didn't have the pleasure to talk often, he considered them fond of each other at least. He did anyhow. That was until he learned from Epel that the prefect was an artist, traditional in sense with the medium of simple pen and paper.

Such a fact had been made know because Epel had shown him a sketch the prefect had done. While it wasnt a masterpiece, Vil wouldn't deny it carried potential and clearly show cased a high amount of skill. It was during the conversation that Epel had stated the prefect had drawn all of them.

So the next day, when their paths had crossed, Vil had asked with a teasing edge to see one of the sketches they had done of him. Thats when he learned Epel was wrong. The prefect had done at least one sketch of everyone from their collective friend group, except him.

He'll admit, he was mad in the moment. But now, days later, he finds himself putting more effort into his makeup and hair in the morning. Wearing new tie and shirt combinations with various patterns and textures. Trying new shoe styles for the sake of the Seven. But nothing seemed to spore the prefect to pull out that damned spiral bond black book and annoyingly powdered yellow pen.

At some point, he had even enlisted Rook to plan and stage worthy environments to spark artistic creation. None of which worked, other than Rook appearing all too happy as he put together an entirely new scrapbook of his own.

It wasn't until the weekend. A torrential downpour had suddenly affected the campus, sending students flocking into buildings and dorms. Vil had been in the middle of another attempt to swoon the prefect into sketching him when the rain started. An hour of crafting a vine and flower arch ruined. By the time they had made it to Ramshackle, they were both nearly soaked through.

So now he sat in the lounge of the rundown dorm, a towel that smelled lightly of mothballs and holding an old mug of cheap hot chocolate being warmed by a fire. The prefect had just stepped in the lounge, mouth open with their own mug before they froze. Then they scurried away, returning with that forsaken notebook and started to scribble.

Vil raised an eyebrow, confused as to what they could possibly be sketching. Looking out the window at his side, Vil noticed in the sanctuary of an overgrown bush and the windows ledge were two butterflies. One noticeably bigger, wings packed with technicolor blues and purples, while the other was a simple silver-grey. He huffed, seeing the cosmic irony of the two insects cuddled together while he sat across the room from his own plain butterfly.

The rain didn't let up. It rained for hours at the same intensity it had started. With his drink gone and the prefect lulled to sleep, Vil finally stood to gently pull their sketchbook from their limp hands. Looking through the pages, he couldn't help but pout at seeing multiple sketches of the others and none of him. But on the newest page, he was met with a picture of him waterlogged, sitting by the fireplace and smiling into the mug of hot chocolate.

"..." Vil chuckled, looking to the sleeping freshman before slipping the book back into their hands, "Silly potato. At least you captured my beauty properly..."

[somefanchick]

-Leona’s Pride and Prejudice-

(This story is from Leona's perspective anytime the events of book three. It does include mention of the Cloudcalling on the Savanna event. I only know information from the English server story and events so sorry if anything is terribly out of character. This fic is platonic and is cannon for my Yuu-sona, but I do just call them (Yuu) in the story [she/her] [feminine terms]. Hope you enjoy!)

(Triger Warning: cussing, derogatory terms, drunk individual, and some sexual harassment towards (Yuu).)

I had a hard time understanding the Ramshackle prefect. She would put up with things that would piss most people off and then fly off the handle at things that only seemed to bother her. Hell, she seemed more pissed at me for not wanting to let her stay in Savanaclaw while she dealt with the octopunk then she was at me for overbloting. She would entertain Grim, Cheeka, and freshmen alike while they did every annoying thing they possibly could, but then lose her mind at Jamil just brushing by her in the hallway without saying a quick apology. 

I could never tell what she was going to do next. I would find myself observing her whenever she came near, making a game out of trying and failing to predict her choices. I would guess she was getting a sandwich for lunch only to get the fish platter and give it to Grim. I would think she came to the library to read or research only to find her pulling out a pen to work on a paper for class. I couldn’t understand her. 

Once again, it was time to play the game. I had hidden in a large tree near mainstreet to sleep, using the people below as some sorta white noise. However, (Yuu) had entered the picture, keeping me awake. The statues had gotten dirty as migration had caused flocks of birds to pass over campus during the changing seasons, leading the headmaster to commission his little errand-runner to clean them. 

She was working on the King of Beasts' statue when I noticed that a group of sophomores had stopped to talk and loiter on the side of the street. I didn’t even notice them at first, but they kept raising their voices to force everyone around to listen.

“Maybe people wouldn’t hate her so much if she wasn’t such a bitch,” the leader of the imbeciles spat, pointing the words at (Yuu), “Maybe then she’d have someone who wants to keep her around.”

“Maybe,” another boy took (Yuu)’s lack of response as a go ahead to keep pushing, “she needs someone to put her in her place.”

The leader wasn’t even trying to hide his smirk. I couldn’t even hear what he was saying properly anymore. My head was racing. As the insults kept hurling towards her, I kept watching for a reaction. Nothing. It’s like she wasn’t even hearing them. 

On the one hand, I knew she could handle herself. Seven knows she can dish out even more than she takes. Plus, she’s dealt with more overblots than anyone with nothing more than her own physical ability to keep her safe. I knew that she could send those cocky assholes to the dirt if she really wanted to. But she didn’t. I kept waiting. 

“I would understand her ego if she wasn't such an ugly prude,” One of the boys snickered, “You would think she’d want to show off the only ‘nice’ thing about her, but she always covers up those long legs of hers.”

She ignored them again, climbing onto the statue base to get bird poop off the mane. They kept getting louder and it was starting to piss me off. They made comments that were more and more specific and vile. I knew she could handle herself, but I also knew that I could handle it. I started to run out of patience. 

“And what is with those freshmen she hangs out with?”

I finally saw her react. It was small and subtle enough to where I don’t even think the assholes saw it. But she froze for a second. I could almost see her switch from ignoring them completely to analyzing everything by the second.

“They are so stupid! I don’t think a single one of them is going to pass their classes,” the boy rolled his eyes, “Plus those guys are weak as hell. I bet any one of us could beat the shit out of any of them while the bitch just watched.”

“Say that again?” (Yuu) had finished with the mane of the statue and was now leaning against it while towering over the sophomores, “I fear my ears may be fooling me.”

“He said,” The leader took over for his friend, approaching the statue in some attempt to look threatening, “that any one of us could beat the shit out of any of those dumbass freshmen while all you did was bitch and moan about it while sobbing your eyes out.”

“Cool,” She jumped down from the statue, leaving the cleaning supplies on the base, “So now that you’ve gotten your delusions out of your system, you can start preparing for the consequences of running that shithole you call a mouth.”

“Oh really?” He got in her face, I was almost out of patience, “And what consequences are those? You getting on your knees to beg for mercy on behalf of your little boy toys?”

“Nope.”

She socked him in the face. It was a perfect attack. A clean hit to the jaw before driving her knee into his crotch. She moved back as the friends went in to make their own attacks. I actually recognized the tactics she used as she quickly dodged and hit the others. They had been the same techniques I had taught at the Bead Brawl tournament.

Soon all of them were hauling their sorry asses to the infirmary. I knew she wouldn’t get in trouble because idiots like those wouldn’t admit they got their ass handed to them by a magicless girl. 

She just moved on to start cleaning the next statue. It was like nothing had happened.

I was in one of the trees in the courtyard, once again trying to sleep while Ruggie was in PE. (Yuu) entered the courtyard in her own PE uniform, probably at a break in her schedule after her own flying class. She sat at the fountain and began reading some history book. I didn’t recognize it from Trein’s class, so I assumed it was one of her ‘fun’ reads. 

I could see a pair of Savanaclaw freshmen at a table near the fountain, and I could see them talking in hushed voices. If I had been anyone else I wouldn’t have heard them, but being me, I did.

One of the students was a jackal beastmen, “I still can’t believe that lazy prick is King Falena’s brother. I’m so glad there's no chance he’ll be king. He’d run the country into the ground.”

“Dude,” One of the other student’s joined in the conversation, “You didn’t even see his meltdown. The dude almost disintegrated Ruggie with that terrifying spell of his. He must be real fucking stupid to try and kill the one person who puts up with his lazy ass.”

I watched as (Yuu) slammed her book closed, not bothering to mark her place, “Could you twats shut your traps?”

 “Excuse me?” The second boy looked at her with disgust and confusion, “We’re having a private conversation.”

“Yeah,” She stood, “Loud enough for anyone in the school to hear. Plus, what your saying is bullshit. I’m not letting bullshit interrupt my reading during my half-an-hour of peace, solitude, and quiet.”

The beastman stood, trying to use his size to get her to back down, “Look, I’m just expressing an opinion. Why do you even care? It’s not like he’s ever done anything for you. He’s just lazy.”

“And that’s how I know you’re just imbeciles who don’t know anything other than what you’ve been told to believe,” She stared him in the eye and showed no signs of backing down, “What exactly do you expect from him? Do you expect perfection without praise? Perfection without any hope for something to come out of it? Do you expect him to make plan after plan to improve everything for everyone else only to get shot down because it’s his idea and not someone else's or because it hasn’t been done before? Do you expect him to try and improve the lives of the people who are figuratively slapping him in the face on the regular? Try to be productive while being ignored, constantly overshadowed, and being put down by everyone around you. After you do that, then you can shoot the shit all you want and I won’t complain.”

“Why are you being so defensive about this?” The other student interjected, “You of all people should know how destructive he is. You’re the one who dealt with his overblot.”

“Exactly,” She smiled a wicked smile that sent a chill through me, “I dealt with it. You cried in the corner. It’s not that he’s scary. You’re just a coward. Plus, it is rich of you to call him lazy or stupid when you are completely aware of his little scheme to win the spelldrive tournament. The plan was actually well thought out and took a good deal of effort. The only folly was that he underestimated me. And Seven knows that he never made that mistake again. He’s constantly aware of every factor he can’t predict. That takes intelligence and diligence. Now will you please give me my…” she checked a pocket watch that someone must have given her at some point, “twenty three remaining minutes of peace, solitude, and quiet?”

The freshmen were silent. The jackal-boy sat back down. An odd emotion swirled inside of me. She seemed to somewhat get it. Everything she had said about me was at least a thought that had crossed my mind at one point or another. Sure it wasn’t everything, and it wasn’t like she knew everything. However, it was odd that she could read that much of me. Especially since I thought her head was too far up her ass to see others so intimately, let alone me.

She sat back down at the fountain and the freshmen left the courtyard. Part of me hoped she would look in my direction. Show some kinda sign that she only said those things or intervened because she knew I was watching. Some part of me thought that would make it seem less personal. Make it feel like she was doing it with some ulterior motive of gaining my favor or getting me to ‘owe’ her. But she didn’t.

She just sat down and began reading again. 

She was strange.

She could handle herself. I knew that. I had seen that first hand. She could fight or outwit any of the other herbivores. But I could never understand her. 

I don’t even know what possessed me to take the bus into town. An odd craving for this one sandwich made by a local business that refuses to deliver and an absent Ruggie maybe. 

(Yuu) was also on the bus. I found myself almost following her when she got off. She had a bag with some books in it, so I assumed she was trading them in at that one bookstore full of used literature. I told myself that I was just going the same direction as her because the two businesses were near one another, but part of me knew it was just to see what she would do.

She turned the corner and ran smack into a man that was all but blocking the entrance to the bookstore. 

“Pardon me,” She didn’t smile as she moved to walk past the man.

“Hey,” Even from the distance I had put between her and myself, I could smell that the man reeked of booze. He hiccuped, “What’s the rush pretty lady? Got a hot date or something?”

“No,” She kept a neutral expression, “Just errands and a limited time to do them.”

He stopped her from moving past him, “Well then why don’t you stay a while? Pretty thing like you shouldn’t be all alone. Plus,” I could see him scan her form, “I’m sure I could find something good to entertain both of us.”

I wanted to rip his head off. He was being annoying and (Yuu) at least deserved some assistance after she went out of her way to defend me. However, I knew she could handle herself. I waited and watched for her to do something. For her to punch and kick, knocking him to the ground like those asshole sophomores. For her to talk him into the grave and bathe him in shame like she had with the freshmen. But it was nothing. She let him keep going.

“Why aren’t you smiling? Beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be frowning,” He put his arm against the wall, keeping her in place, “Come on sexy, smile for me.”

Why wasn’t she doing anything? I know she didn’t typically do what I would think she would do in any given situation, but to do nothing? What in the name of the seven was going on in her head? 

I didn’t even notice I wandered closer until (Yuu) and I made eye contact. I had never seen that look in her eyes. It wasn’t exactly fear or numbness, but an odd mix of the two. As if she had completely disassociated but some small part of her was screaming for help. I didn’t even think she realized that it was my eyes she was looking into. She only knew that it was someone who could possibly help. 

She could handle herself. But not right now.

“Hey,” I found myself gripping onto the man’s shoulder, “Leave.”

“Excuse me?” He swayed as he turned to try and confront me.

“You’re drunk, not deaf,” I nearly growled, “I told you to leave.”

“What’s your deal?” He seemed even more drunk close up, “It’s none of your business. I’m just talking to a pretty lady. What happened to being a bro and not cockblocking a perfect stranger?”

Sevens the bastard was drunk off his ass. 

“Leave before I tear your fucking head off,” I grinned to show off my teeth, “Or don’t. I don’t mind catching a charge.”

The man put his hands up in surrender, “Whatever dick cheese. A guy can’t shoot his shot with a sexy lady anymore? Sevens!” 

I didn’t take my eyes off him until he completely disappeared into the streets. I just hoped someone called the police on his ass for public intoxication or some shit.

“Leona?” (Yuu) finally spoke again, the look in her eyes replaced by her normal neutral or annoyed tone, “What are you doing here?”

“Getting a sandwich,” I put my hands in my pockets, “What else?”

She sighed, “Can we just not talk about what just happened? It’s a pain in the ass.”

I tried not to smile, “Yeah. It sure is.”

I went with her to the bookstore and she followed me to the sandwich place. The day was filled with a comfortable silence, only broken by random comments that never really led to a full conversion. It was nice. Plus, I no longer felt like I needed to pay her back for her defending me to those freshmen. It was a win-win situation. 

It still didn’t stop me from thinking about it. She had no trouble standing up to people at school for talking shit about me and her freshman. However, she seemed to completely shut down when it was about her. I didn’t get it.

She sat next to me on the bus as the sun set. She laid her head back on the seat and I could see the moment that she fell asleep. It was oddly peaceful. 

… 

I had a hard time understanding the Ramshackle prefect.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

𝐀 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 (𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝) || Severus Snape ||

A/n: I low key love Snape (idk leave me alone) Au where he only saw Lily as a sister, survived the war thanks to the Reader ( the girl he always loved )

-and Harry is a professor here like he should have been.

Severus Snape had endured many things in his life—war, betrayal, incompetent students, Harry Potter’s entire existence—but nothing could have prepared him for the utter chaos that came with bringing a one-and-a-half-year-old into his classroom.

And yet, here he was.

You had come down with a rather nasty bout of illness and was currently confined to his quarters at Hogwarts, leaving Severus with no other choice but to bring his son, Elias, with him to class. He had considered leaving the toddler with Minerva, but the mere thought of McGonagall indulging Elias’ every whim sent an unpleasant shudder down his spine.

So, there he sat. At his desk. Resigned. With his son.

Elias sat happily in a conjured high chair beside him, swinging his little legs while munching on a biscuit, blissfully unaware that he had just become the single greatest distraction Hogwarts had seen in years.

The students were losing their minds.

From the moment they entered the dungeon, every single one of them froze, eyes going wide before they exploded into whispered squeals and awed whispers.

“Oh my Merlin, is that—?”

“Professor Snape has a baby?”

“He’s so cute!”

“I never thought I’d see the day—”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose as a Hufflepuff girl audibly gasped, clutching her friend’s arm in excitement.

“If anyone so much as utters the words ‘adorable’ or ‘precious’ within my vicinity,” Severus drawled, rubbing his temples, “you will all be scrubbing cauldrons until next Christmas.”

A Ravenclaw girl raised her hand and without being called upon exclaimed. “But sir, he is adorable."

Severus glared. “Detention.”

“Worth it.”

Elias, as if sensing he was the center of attention, turned his head, blinked at the students… and then let out a tiny, delighted giggle.

The entire class melted.

Several Gryffindors gasped audibly. One Slytherin put a hand over her heart like she had just witnessed something life-changing.

Elias, pleased with the reaction, clapped his little hands together and giggled again.

Severus exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling like it might give him strength but as if his day could not get possibly worse.

Enter: Professor Potter

The moment the door to the classroom swung open, and in strolled Harry Potter, now a professor himself, his grin far too wide for Severus’ liking.

Harry took one look at the situation and immediately let out a low whistle.

“Well, well, well,” Harry said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “Now this is something I never thought I’d see. You, Snape, forced to bring your baby to work.”

Severus glared. “Spare me, Potter.”

Harry ignored him completely and walked right up to Elias, who beamed at him.

“Hey there, little man,” Harry said, ruffling Elias’ dark hair. “Having fun driving your dad mad?”

Elias giggled again and held his arms up, clearly expecting to be picked up.

Harry immediately complied, because who could ever deny such a cute baby.

Severus scowled. “Put him down, Potter.”

Harry grinned. “Oh, come on, Snape. It’s not my fault your son clearly likes me more.”

Elias, as if to confirm this, gently patted Harry’s face, then turned toward Severus and—with the biggest, most innocent smile possible—said: “Dada funny.”

The entire class burst into laughter.

Severus closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose.

You owed him for this. So much.

By the time class was over, Severus had accepted his fate. His students had spent more time cooing at Elias than focusing on their potions, and Potter had not let him hear the end of it.

As the last student left, Harry still grinning like an idiot, Severus stood, plucking Elias from his high chair.

“You,” he muttered to his son, “are a menace.”

Elias snuggled into his father’s shoulder, completely unfazed.

Severus sighed, running a hand through Elias’ messy dark curls. He was exhausted. But somehow… he didn’t mind.

When you were finally better, he was going to pretend this entire day never happened.

Harry, unfortunately, would never let him and it seemed that Dumbledore wouldn't either.

Severus Snape had endured an entire day of humiliation.

Students cooing over Elias. Harry’s endless teasing. McGonagall smirking at his suffering. Even you, his own wife, had laughed yourself into a coughing fit when you had heard about what had happened in his classroom.

Surely, surely, he would find some peace in the Headmaster’s office.

Severus swept inside, Elias still clinging sleepily to his robes, and collapsed into the chair behind the desk, letting out an exhausted sigh.

That’s when the chuckling started.

Severus froze.

Slowly, too slowly, he turned his head toward the portraits lining the walls.

And there, in his grand frame, sat Albus Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief behind his half-moon spectacles.

Severus sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No,” he said flatly. “Not you too.” A headache already forming.

Dumbledore merely smiled. “Oh, my dear boy,” he said, his voice far too pleased. “How could I possibly resist?”

Severus glared. “This is not a spectacle for your amusement.”

Dumbledore’s portrait chuckled. “Severus, I have watched you suffer through many things in life. But this—” he gestured dramatically toward the sleeping toddler curled against his father’s chest—“this is by far the most entertaining.”

Severus scowled craddling his son against his chest as his gaze looked away from the large portrait.

“I must say,” Dumbledore continued, his eyes twinkling brighter than ever, “I never imagined I would see the day where Severus Snape was reduced to being a walking bed for a sleepy child.”

Severus gritted his teeth. “If you are quite finished—”

“Oh, not yet,” Dumbledore said cheerfully.

Several of the other portraits chuckled in agreement, some nodding along.

“You know,” Dumbledore mused, resting his chin on his hand, “if dear Elias does end up in Hufflepuff, I do believe Minerva will never let you hear the end of it.”

Severus groaned. “Enough.” Fingers running through his hair.

“Perhaps a yellow scarf for Christmas?”

“I am leaving now.”

“A badger plush in his Hogwarts trunk, perhaps?”

Severus stood abruptly, shaking his head in pure exasperation. “I refuse to participate in this absurdity.”

Elias stirred in his sleep, mumbling softly, before letting out a content sigh, his little fingers gripping onto Severus’ robes even tighter.

Dumbledore’s grin widened.

Severus looked down at his son, his scowl softening for just a fraction of a second. He let out a long suffering sigh, then turned one last glare at the portrait.

“You are insufferable,” he muttered.

Dumbledore beamed. “And you, my dear boy, are adorable.”

Severus left immediately.

As the door slammed shut, Dumbledore’s portrait chuckled again, his blue eyes twinkling with satisfaction.

“Ah,” he mused, leaning back in his chair. “That was deeply satisfying.”

[ineffectualdemon]

On the topic of mpreg this how I think the SVSSS characters would actually handle any surprise pregnancies

Shen Yuan- would fully ignore every pregnancy symptom and evidence as long as he could using the: "if I ignore it isn't real" technique. This would result in him having a baby and a LOT of panic attacks. He would love the child but wouldn't be good with them until they were old enough to talk and stuff

Shen Jiu - abortion. Unless something prevented him from finding out he was pregnant until he went into labour or his pregnancy was super seeded up or something. But if he has a choice he's having an abortion and he's correct in doing so. If he does have a kid he's forcing it on Yue Qingyuan and not having anything to do with them except hate them from a distance

Yue Qingyuan: keeping it and doting on it. The most likely to think some shit like "it's a precious life, I can't kill a life inside me?" Shen Jiu will at least seriously think about slipping him an abortifacient in his tea

Mu Qingfang: abortion. He's got too many children to watch already

Qi Qingqi: abortion. She feels like she's happier as a cool aunt

Wei Qingwei: keeping the baby and having the best time. He's super enthusiastic

Liu Qingge: keeps it because he helped raise his sister and that was easy enough. Discovers it's harder with your own newborn but doesn't really mind. Gives everyone a heart attack when he goes monster hunting with a baby tied to him

Mobei Jun: assuming it's Shang Qinghua he is delighted and keeping it and trying to get knocked up again immediately after the birth of the first one. If it's anyone else immediate abortion

Shang Qinghua: assuming it's Mobei's he actually could go either way depending on when he gets pregnant. But it would be an agonising decision for him. Any other partner he happily aborts

EDIT: I FORGOT LUO BINGHE! CUCUMBER WILL MURDER ME IN MY SLEEP

But also Bingmei is keeping that baby but he's going to have Issues around being a parent. He could do it well but it's gonna be a struggle

Bingge is absorbing the baby and going on with his day

Tianlang-Jun similar to Bingge unless he's horny about it

Zhuzhi Lang lays eggs and then eats them

[callsign-dexter]

A Father's Nightmare

Request: Hi!!!! 

OMG I am obsessed with Twisters!!!!!! 

I was wondering if I could please request a Tyler Owens x daughter reader where Tyler and his daughter are at a rodeo and a tornado happens but they get separated so Tyler isn’t able to find the reader until after the storm. 

maybe the reader is like 5 or so?

totally your choice and it is no pressure and feel free to change anything 

thank you

Pairings: Tyler Owens x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, tornadoes, cursing

Masterlist

When Tyler found out he was having a child he was ecstatic and when you arrived, he was even more ecstatic. The team loved you and were surprised that Tyler actually had a child but took you in with open arms. Your mother was never in the picture since it was a one-night stand with your father and when she told him she was having you, he stayed with her and when you were born, she took off. Tyler was devastated but he had you and that was perfectly alright with him. If you ask him, he would say that you two were better off without her and that you're the most important thing to him and nothing was going to change that even if he dated other women besides your mom, then again you were too young to know who your mother was anyways.

When the team went chasing you usually stayed in the van with Dexter and Dani. Most of the time you were with your dad in his truck with Boone while not chasing. You loved the chasing of the storms always had and always will. You had been through so many states probably more than any kid your age and you loved it. Each time you got a souvenir from the state either from your dad, the team, or everyone. Your room back at your home was full and it just kept growing especially thanks to your dad that knew how to make more storage. 

Currently you are heading to Oklahoma. You had a passenger with you, a reporter from London, Ben is his name and you liked him especially his accent. You loved listening to him talk. “Dad?” You asked from your booster seat.

“Yes, Sweetie?” He asked looking in the rear-view mirror.

“I'm hungry.” You said and he chuckled.

“Uncle Boone has some snacks for you.” He said and you lit up and Boone smiled as he pulled out Goldfish and turned around to give them to you.

“There you go my favorite Owens.” He said 

“I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that.” Tyler said and Boone chuckled and turned to him as you watched them as they bickered.

“I mean, Tyler. C'mon on man. You're handsome but you can't beat that cuteness back there.” Boone said and Tyler knew he couldn't argue with that.

“You're right. Nobody can compete with that.” He said looking at you through the rear-view mirror as you watched him and munched on your Goldfish and offered some to Ben who gladly and politely took what you were offering to him. 

—

By the time you had arrived at a gas station in Oklahoma you were fast asleep. Tyler didn't want to move you or wake you but you needed to be transferred to the RV. So, after he met the crowd and got them hyped up, he went over to you and carefully and skillfully got you out of the truck and transferred to the RV and now it was time to go chasing. You only woke up when you started moving and noticed you were in the car with Dexter. “Dex?” You asked and he briefly turned to look at you.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” He said and turned back to the road.

“Daddy?” You asked 

“He's in the truck in front of us.” He said and satisfied with that answer you went back to doing your own thing. Your own thing was looking around at the scenery and the tornado up ahead and you got really excited. Your eyes widened in excitement and you loved every second of it. When the chase was over everyone was parking and celebrating and your dad held you and paid attention to you.

Throughout the days you were there you hardly rode with your dad for safety reasons. Whenever you weren't chasing you were in your dad’s arms just being with him. You got stares but he ignored them and had his attention on you and only on you. One tornado tore through a town and instead of chasing like your dad had planned you were heading to town to help people out. As he was helping the town out, he stuck you with Dexter who was handing out food and dealing with merchandise by the RV. You had a clear view of your dad and some lady. You watched him intently and could tell they were arguing and that made you upset but didn't say anything. After you were done there, everyone was heading back to the motel. Once everyone was settled in and became dark out Tyler got word of a rodeo and decided to take you there along with the girl he was talking to “Come here, Sweetie.” He said picking up.

“Where are we going?” You asked as he walked towards his truck. 

“We're going to a rodeo.” He said as he opened the truck.

“A rodeo?” You asked confused but excited. 

“Yup, a rodeo.” He said starting to buckle you in. 

“Are there going to be horses there?” You asked excitedly and he chuckled. Ever since you were little horses have always excited you. 

“Yup there are going to be horses there.” He confirmed.

“Yay!” You said as he finished buckling you. He smiled and kissed your forehead and then got in the front seat.

“We need to make a stop first.” He said and you nodded at him as he took off driving. It wasn't that far until he was pulling into a spot and then quickly got you out. “Hold my hand.” He said and you nodded latching onto it. You didn't say anything as you walked up stairs to a door and he knocked. “Hi.” He said and the woman looked at him.

“Hi.” She said and then she noticed you.

“This is my daughter, Y/N.” He said “Y/N this is Kate.” He added and you looked at her and became insanely shy and zoned out on the conversation at hand. Next thing you knew you were being picked up and carried. You kept staring at Kate as you walked to the truck and he buckled you in. It wasn't a very far drive to the rodeo and you were silent. “Sorry she gets shy.” He said.

“You don't need to apologize. I get it.” Kate said as he parked the truck. He got out and then got you out.

“Hold my hand, remember.” He said and you nodded.

“Ok, Daddy.” You said quietly and grabbed his hand. The three of you walked into the grounds. “Daddy, I'm hungry.” You said as he looked down at you.

“Alright, we'll get you something. Anything you want?” He asked 

“Surprise me.” You said giggling.

“Anything for my girl.” He said and Kate looked at the two of you smiling. Tyler got something for you and a drink and then you were heading to find seats. You found them and sat mainly on his lap but had moved over to his side. The rodeo started and you were in awe as you ate. Kate and Tyler talked and you tuned them and every now and then excitedly got your dad's attention.

“Daddy! Daddy! Look!” You said and he looked at a beautiful horse.

“I see, Sweetie. He's beautiful.” He said and you nodded as he watched your eyes light up. When the bull riding came up and a friend of your dad's signaled to him, he saw you and waved at you and you excitedly waved back. You snuggled into your dad still intently watching and food having been eaten. The barrel racing started and you were so excited it was your favorite. That was going on for a while and then the wind started to pick up, you knew what that meant and looked at your dad who looked at you and then Kate. 

“Are you tracking anything out here?” She asked and when he didn't reply she knew her answer. Suddenly everyone's phones started to go off and the overhead speakers were going off. As the thunder and lightning lit up the sky you saw the tornado and got really scared.

“Daddy.” You whined and he could hear how scared you were in your voice. 

“It's going to be ok. Stay close to us.” He said and you nodded and then chaos erupted and everyone was rushing to take cover. You were carried down the steps and set on the ground. You grabbed your dad's hand but your little legs couldn't keep up. 

“Daddy!” You yelled out but didn't hear him over the chaos. You stood frozen and started to cry. 

“Hey, you ok?” A couple asked and you recognized them as the ones that sat behind you on the bleachers.

“I lost my daddy.” You said as the woman picked you up. 

“He was sitting in front of us, right?” Her husband asked and you nodded. 

“Yea.” You said 

“Ok, ok. We're going to keep calm and take shelter and we'll find him afterwards.” She said and you nodded and buried your head into her shoulder. The three of you took shelter and now it was time to ride the tornado out. You were shaking and freaking out. The woman and man comforted you but you really wanted your dad.

—

Tyler and Kate moved together. “Stay with me.” He said “Y/N?” He asked not feeling the weight of your hand in his and that made him look down and he froze. You weren't with him.

“Tyler!” Kate said as she felt him stop.

“Y/N! Y/N is not here!” He panicked and that made her go rigid.

“Oh shit!” She shouted over the commotion and she didn't know what to do. As he started to shout your name and look around.

“We need to find her!” He said and started to backtrack but she stopped him.

“I want to find her too but right now safety is the key right now. Let's get to safety. Maybe someone took her to safety.” She said as she was urging him to move. 

“If she ends up being hurt or worse. I will never forgive you.” He said and started to move and it hurt Kate to hear that but she understood it. They got most of everyone to safety inside a pool including a mother and child and that just made Tyler 10x more anxious he needed and wanted to find you. For the first time since the first tornado, he witnessed he was terrified. 

The tornado seemed to last forever but it was only a few minutes and it was over. He uncovered Kate and then stood up and the search for you began. He was quick to get out of the pool and started to look for you. He was calling out your name but got nothing back and that scared him. He was close to tears in fact he knew some slipped out. “Y/N!” He yelled out starting to lift debris and hoping you weren't under there but knew he had to check. 

“Tyler!” Dani yelled and he turned to look at her.

“Y/N is missing. Please help me.” He pleaded and she nodded.

“Ok ok. Let's keep calm. I'll get the others to help. We'll find her.” She said and he nodded. She took off from him and he resumed his search. He started towards the fairgrounds. 

“Y/N!” He yelled out looking under debris and people that were hurt. He asked people if they had seen you and showed a picture of you and they shook their heads. He sent a pain throughout his chest; he was close to giving up but knew he had to find you if he didn’t, he would never forgive himself or Kate since she made him leave you. As he was yelling out your name and looking through the wreckage, he was becoming pissed at Kate for making him leave you. Who knew where you were, you could be hurt and scared or wish dead, he wasn’t going to think about the second one though he would be lost without you. “Y/N!” He yelled in a desperate tone. He could faintly hear the others calling out your name too. He was about to look in another place when a voice, your voice caught his attention.

“Daddy!” You yelled out and he straightened up and looked around trying to find the source, if there was one.

“Y/N!” He yelled your name again and waited to hear you call back again hoping his ears weren’t playing tricks on him. 

“Daddy!” You yelled out and again and he was rushing to the sound tripping over stuff along the way. “Daddy!” Your voice carried to him. He was close.

“Y/N if you can hear my voice, come to me Baby Girl!” He yelled out and sure enough you did and you were accompanied by two people, a husband and wife he assumed.

“Daddy!” You yelled and he kneeled down as you ran into his arms throwing your arms around his neck and he hugged you tightly. Tyler started to cry and he was never going to deny that. Almost losing you was the scariest part of his life. 

“Oh, thank goodness. You're alive. I was so worried.” He said burying his head into your neck. You started to cry as well. “I should've just picked you up when we started evacuating.” He said as the couple came up to him. He looked up at them with tears in his eyes “Thank you. Thank you so much. How can I repay you?” He asked and they shook their heads.

“No need. We were able to get your little girl back to you. Seeing you happy is all you need to repay us with.” The man said and Tyler nodded as he stood up with you in his arms and you clung to him and buried your head into his neck. 

“She's a really sweet girl.” The woman said and he smiled and nodded while sniffling. 

“She really is.” He let out a watery laugh. “I would be lost without her.” He said.

“Well now you're both safe and reunited. We can rest easy knowing so.” The man said and all three of them smiled. Tyler shook their hands and you, him, and the couple took off. He started walking back towards the group. 

“Y/N!” You heard Boone's voice and looked over his way but went back to hiding in your father's neck.

“Thank goodness you found her.” Dexter said as everyone came to the two of you.

“Yea a couple had her and made sure she was safe.” Tyler said, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “I think after this we will take some time off. I need some time with my girl.” He said and everyone nodded.

“That sounds like a good plan.” Lily said of course they would feel sad about it but they understood it since Tyler was close to losing you. 

“Let's go head in for the night.” He said and everyone agreed. Tyler took you to the truck that somehow managed to survive, and buckled you. Everyone else rode together; they knew he needed time with you. When the two of you arrived back to the motel, he was quickly shutting the engine off and scooping you up. Without a word he carried you to the room and opened the door and shut it and turned around getting ready to grab your pajamas.

“Daddy.” You said and he was quick to turn and face you.

“Yes, Baby Girl?” He asked, kneeling in front of you. 

“I love you.” You said and he smiled as tears sprang to his eyes.

“I love you too, Baby.” He said hugging you and you hugged him back. After a minute he pulled away and the both of you got ready for bed. He laid down and you snuggled underneath him. Tonight was a scary night and he almost lost you but you were safe and unharmed with him now and that's all that matters. Once he knew you were sound asleep, he let himself fall asleep. As he was drifting off, he whispered “I'll always protect you as long as you let me.” and then laid a kiss to your forehead which caused you to snuggle into him more. Tyler finally fell asleep with you safe in his arms. He would deal with everything tomorrow but right now he just wanted to be with you and only. 

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

@angenu01-blog

@twistersmaverick

@callsign-revenge

@lauraseresin

[baphometsss]

my childfreeness is projecting again so here, have some of my childfree headcanons

Solas is sterile because he's old as fuck and his balls just don't make baby batter like they used to (Trick lk confirmed this teehee 🩷)

Did they ever work though?? I mean he literally just manifested as a fully grown man like all the ancient elves did. Iirc that's why modern elves don't have DNA. We never seem to find out when they started having babies naturally so it's possible he was always sterile (kind of like in TRC when Ronan pulls people out of his dreams and they don't even have internal organs)

Taleani Lavellan has always liked spirits and animals more than people because they're kind of uncomfortable around kids and people in general so not breeding is a very natural choice for them

Not to say they don't care about them at all bc she had a duty as her clan's midwife and helped all the new mothers out etc but she just doesn't have a clue how to talk to kids and has no desire to learn

Solas also doesn't know wtf to do around kids and either ignores them or talks to them like they're fully grown adults while they stare back at him blankly

He also canonically doesn't like loud noises and bollocks Blackwall for training the kids right outside his room in DAI

"Not now kitten Daddy's lamenting his war crimes and I have to talk him down again"--Lavellan probably

Being childfree makes them focus on each other a whole lot more. Makes me think about that old photo of some soldier returning from war to meet his kid for the first time ever and just shoving it under his arm upside down so he can kiss his wife. That would be Solas as a dad

Seriously they would have 0 time for that kid while the other was present . Tough luck kiddo your mother's wearing a low cut top today and her titties look divine. Go play in the Fade and don't come back for at least a couple of hours

Straight up Gomez and Morticia Addams if the kids weren't there

Absolutely fucking awful parents . No time to be normal when there are blighted titans to deal with

Also they can explore the Fade much further and learn so much more without having to get a spirit babysitter in

They can nerd out over all the new discoveries they make and do all the dangerous experiments they like without having to worry about the safety of a person with no sense of danger

They can have impromptu shags on the kitchen table and not worry about getting walked in on and scarring that kid mentally with their outrageous sex life

When they're stressed from a hard day of titan soothing and they just want to relax and talk they don't have to fight the bedtime battle or deal with whatever stinky mess the kid made

Lavellan doesn't have to worry about losing her teeth, or becoming incontinent, or having any of the myriad health issues that arise from pregnancy and childbirth with limited resources to do anything about it

Solas can teach Lavellan how to take a big wolf form like him once he binds her to his life force so they can live forever and it won't endanger the kid

Taleani doesn't give a shit about having a legacy but who needs one anyway if you live forever?

No kids stuff littering the house means more space for books and dangerous artefacts and frescoes that won't get ruined by sticky hands

No arguments about how to best raise a child. Just arguments about philosophy and war crimes

No kids mean they can sleep all they want and have epic dream escapades without interruptions

Just. No kids in the Fade prison allowed. Or the Fade. Or within a 500 mile radius of Solas and Lavellan. Seriously who the hell thought that was a good idea in the first place

[ladylooch]

Bones - Part 15 [Mack x David]

A/N: I have said this so many times, you are all probably sick of hearing it BUT THIS IS MY FAVORITE CHAPTER!!!! This was the first chapter I wrote for their series and it has stayed mostly the same since I originally wrote it in May 2024. Considering that, I think I've been patient long enough! I can't wait any longer so it's going up a few days earlier than I said. Please, please, please come talk to me about this one 😭 I want to know every single thought that comes across your beautiful brains as you read this. Literally on my knees and begging. Okay, okay, go.. now.. run please! Read! Enjoy 🥹

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: Vivid descriptions of child birth, birth trauma (nobody dies, promise!), mentions of bodily fluids including blood.

July

“It’s David. Leave a-”

Mack clicks off the phone as she gets her husband’s voicemail again. She pouts her lips out, looking out the window at where she can see Felix and two other farm hands in the barn. 

Maybe he knows where her husband is. 

Normally, Mack doesn’t worry about where David is at lunch time because he comes home, or she drives out to meet him in the field. Today, neither of those things happened and Mack ended up eating lunch without him. The unusual behavior makes her want to get eyes on her husband to make sure he is okay. 

The closer Mack gets to giving birth to their son, the quieter David has become. Mack knows it’s not about second guessing their choices or any of that. But it is another moment in his life he is navigating through without his parents. She gets to talk to her parents about what this was like for them- creating life, those last few weeks before everything changed, the delivery room. He doesn’t have that and as such, Mack treats those conversations as a luxury.

Mack kicks off her house shoes, then slides into a pair of sneakers. Her belly is so big now, she has to lean slightly to the side to make sure her foot is going into the shoe. The second Mack opens the door and feels the Iowa humidity, she groans. What was she thinking being this pregnant in the summer? Oh yeah, that her husband would be home for the birth. Crazy of her though, to think that being 39 weeks pregnant in the middle of July would be fun. 

She never wants to do a summer baby again. She would do another baby, but not in the summer. Bring on the winter coolness that would help alleviate the furnace of a baby inside of her. Clearly, this one is going to run hot like his daddy.

Mack braces a hand on her back, then grabs the railing to walk the three steps down the porch. Her tired feet scuff along the dirt as she flips her sunglasses down over her eyes, heading towards Felix. When she gets close to the barn, a tickle sticks in her throat as the wind whips up some dry dirt from the road.

“Hi Felix.” Mack murmurs as she pauses at the entrance of the barn. He is working with another farm hand in replacing a section of rotting wood in the far corner.

“Oh! Mrs. Mackenzie, there’s a lot of dust. Stay out there. I’ll come out to you.” Mack can see the dust flying around and wisely stops her forward progress. She stays in the opening of the barn, edging her way back out slightly. “Hi.” He says breathlessly as he comes out to her. “How can I help?”

“Do you know where David is? I’ve been calling to see if he is coming up for lunch but he isn’t answering.” 

“Oh, uh, he’s right there.” He points behind her. Mack turns around, shielding her eyes over her sunglasses. On his knees in black dirt, is her husband, shaping and working in his mom’s rose garden. She didn’t see him with the angle she took out of the house. 

“Ah… wow, I didn’t see him. So sorry for bothering you!” Mack apologizes with a grimace.

“No worries. He should have answered your calls.” Felix gives her a shrug. Mack supposes that is true. But it is not like David to ignore her, especially 39 weeks pregnant.

She walks over to him, hands crossed over her chest as her shoes kick up dust around her feet. The wind is blowing hard today. A storm is set to sweep into the area tonight, bringing with it some cooler, less humid weather. Music to this pregnant woman’s ears. 

“Hey.” Mack calls to David as she gets to the edge of the garden. 

He is shirtless, tanned skin pulling tight over this muscular back, chest, and arms. He has work gloves on his hands, protecting them from the black soil he is working with. Specks of black dot his forearms up to his elbows. The distinct white of his AirPods against his slightly curled black hair tells Mack he is deep in another world right now. She walks around the garden towards the house, getting in his line of vision. He glances up, then immediately sits back on his heels seeing her. Mack’s heart skips a beat, taking in his sexy, sweaty form looking at her like she’s his next meal. 

“Hi honey.” He says, tilting the brim of his ball cap up and wiping at his forehead with his dirty forearm. Dirt smears across his skin. She smiles as he pops an AirPod out. He looks so good right now- her hard working man, grinning at seeing her hand as she strokes her bump. “You okay?”

“I am now.” She murmurs back.

“Now?”

“I’ve been calling you?”

“Oh shit. I’m sorry. Had my notifications off cause I am listening to a pepper podcast. Tryna figure out what the fuck I’m doing wrong with the bell peppers this year. They’ve all got bottom rot out there.” The peppers were for their family use, not the farms, but David takes anything that doesn’t grow perfectly personally. “What’s up?”

“You thinking about lunch anytime soon? It’s after 1.”

“Ah… I’m not that hungry.” Mack bites her lip with worry at his response. David is always hungry. He also was supposed to be out checking fence this morning, but here he is knee deep in his mama’s garden again.

“Okay.”

“Sorry, honey. Were you waiting for me?”

“No. We can’t.” She laughs, tapping her big belly. “Your son wouldn’t allow it.” 

“Our growing boy.” David smiles. He looks down at the garden. “What do you think?”

“It looks great, babe.” She says. “Will be nice to look out at this from the baby’s room.”

“Yeah.” He nods, hands on his thighs as he scans the various colors of rose bushes.

The bedroom in question is the smallest in the house, normally an office, but the closest to the master bedroom, which is on the main level. The house layout is a little discombobulated, but David wants to keep the integrity of the farm house. He isn’t ready to change what it was like for him growing up here. The only work he has done in the house is re-doing the flooring on the main level, put a new coat of paint on, and renovated the shower into a mini spa for himself after a long day of work in the fields. 

“Mama would love it. Good growth this year. I’ve been working on splitting up a few of these big ones. Thought maybe I could plant them by her and dad.” 

“That would be really nice.” Mack nods. “I’m sure your mom would love that. Your dad would allow it.” She smirks. She never got to meet David’s parents, but she knows enough about them to feel confident saying so.

“If mama was happy, he was happy.” David smiles. “Sound familiar?”

“Mhm.” She grins at him. “Come give me a kiss. I’m going back in. My boobs are melting off right now from this heat.”

“Can’t have that.” He murmurs, pulling his gloves off. “I’m filthy.” He warns her.

“I’m well aware of how dirty you are, sir.” She winds her arms around his sweaty body, pulling him down to her height. He smirks against her mouth, making his mustache tickle her nose. She squeaks, pulling away to rub the tickles away from her nostrils. “That thing is out of control. You need to trim it.”

“Not what you were saying this morning.” He jokes. “Ohhhh baby, don’t stop.” His words hiss through gritted teeth like hers were, then he attempts to nip at her neck. 

“Shush!” She slaps his bare stomach, looking over her shoulder towards the barn. “You’re such a dick.” He laughs loudly, pulling away from her. 

“Then you must like me.” He wiggles his eyebrows. 

“Put some more sunscreen on.” Mack calls back to him, slowly meandering her way back towards the porch. She carefully steps up the porch, hand braced on her back and the railing as she does so. She glances over to her husband who watches her with careful, green eyes, then waves one more time before getting his knees back in the black dirt.

- - - & - - -

While the Iowa weather thunders and soaks outside, Mack tries to get comfortable in David’s embrace. She shifts every which way, grabs extra pillows to stuff between her legs, but nothing seems to work. It’s been like this especially since dinner when the storm clouds started to roll in.

“Ugh. This baby is so damn low.” Mack snaps. “It feels like I can’t even close my legs anymore. I might need to put a mirror down there to make sure he isn’t actually coming out.” She throws the pillow she was trying to wedge between her legs across the room in frustration.

“What can I do?”

“Nothing.” She grumbles. David brings a hand to her thigh, rubbing up and down in reassurance.

“You’re amazing, hon. I’m sorry things are tough right now. I love you.” Mack mumbles a thank you. She deeply appreciates that David has sympathy for what her body is going through, and that he regularly tells her how in awe he is of her, but tonight she is grumpy. She doesn’t want him to make anything better. She wants this damn baby out.

Mack only lasts five more minutes of her sour mood and uncomfortably shifting positions. With a final sigh, she wiggles her way to the edge of the couch to stand. David stands too, giving her his hands to help her get up with a limited struggle.

“I’m going to bed.” She tells him. His lips twist into a disappointed frown, but he nods without much fuss. A loud clap of thunder makes Mack jolt in surprise. “Holy mother of…” She trails off in Swiss German. Her heartbeat sprints in her chest as David chuckles then gives her a kiss.

“Well, you’re at least going to lay in bed.”

“Yeah. I guess.” She shakes her head, moving towards the kitchen to fill up her water bottle.

“Goodnight, baby. I’ll be in soon.”

“You don’t have to go to bed because I am.”

“I know. I want to.” He says simply. “Wanna hold you if you’ll let me.” 

Mack smirks in the kitchen, twisting on the top of her water cup before padding through the living room. On her way behind the couch, she drops a kiss on David’s head. She cups his face, gently tilting it back towards her to smooch his lips, stroking his jaw sweetly before continuing on to bed. 

“I love you.” She murmurs over her shoulder.

“Love you, hon.” He calls back.

Mack goes through her night time routine of washing her face, putting on lotions and creams as well as ten minutes of meditation through her Calm app to try and get centered into a less frustrated state. She reminds herself how grateful she is to be pregnant and have the opportunity to bring life into the world. Being pregnant in conjunction with Savannah has encouraged Mack to be appreciative for how easy her and David’s journey has been. Savannah and her have become close, sharing in so many experiences together.

Mack works on a pair of compression shorts and a t-shirt of David’s that allows for her boobs to breathe. She pulls the covers back on their bed, then slides into the cool sheets. She savors the temperature with a little shiver, but knows this feeling won’t last long. She grabs her phone, texting David to turn down the air conditioner before he comes to bed. Even with the storm blowing through, the humidity lingers more than she would like. 

Mack is scrolling through Instagram when David comes into the bedroom. He heads to the closet where Mack observes him pulling back on his work jeans and a clean Carhartt grey t-shirt. He grabs another pair of boot socks, which clues Mack in that he is heading back outside.

“Something wrong?”

“Yeah. I gotta head out to help Bob. A fence blew open and his cattle are scattered along the southern edge of our property and into the road. Gotta round ‘em up.” He flips the light off in the closet. “Just gonna help til his hands are able to get over there.” He puts a warn, Coors hat on his dark locks after pushing his hair off his forehead. “Won’t be long.” He comes to her side of the bed. He puts a hand on her bump, then at the back of her neck, stroking fire across her lips when they touch. 

“Be careful out there.” She tells him. 

“It’s done storming. Well East of us at this point.”

“Yeah, but still be careful.” He smiles, kissing her again.

“Always so worried.” He chuckles, kissing down her chin and chest to her bump. He presses his nose in, green eyes closing as Mack places a hand on the back of his head to cradle it.

“Yeah, cause I don’t want to raise this baby alone.” 

“I’ll never let that happen. Promise, mama.” He murmurs against her belly. “Be good.” If he is talking to the baby or Mack, she can’t tell. 

Despite her best efforts, Mack still cannot get comfortable after David leaves. Again, the baby feels so low and the pressure is almost unbearable. She gets up, wandering around the room, trying to find what position relieves the ache of pregnancy from her body. She practices her breathing exercises, then again tries her Calm app. Still nothing is working. She throws her phone onto the bed in frustration, then says fuck it, and heads to the freezer where pints of Ben and Jerry’s is waiting for her. It won’t solve being pregnant, but it will provide comfort. 

“What flavor do we want?” She asks her belly. She opens the freezer, looking down at the tops of the lids, reading off the options she has. “I feel like… Ew, why did Daddy get Cherry Garcia? We hate that one!” She chuckles, picking it up. It has already been opened, half eaten. David likes the weirdest, most out there flavors sometimes. “Mmm brownie or strawberry cheesecake?” She murmurs, tilting her head. “Strawberry sounds good. And it has fruit in it, so we can both lie about it having nutritional value!” She leans down, grabbing the top of it. As she comes back up, wetness begins to dribble down her right leg. 

Mack pauses. 

She focuses in on her body, then realizes exactly what that liquid is.

“Oh fuck.” She squeaks. She drops the pint of ice cream, then puts both hands on her belly. “Buddy…” She trails off. 

It’s David. Leave a message or I’m not calling you back.

Mack rolls her eyes at his voicemail and hangs up, incredibly more stressed than she was this morning when this happened. She immediately dials his number again. From her perch in the kitchen, she faintly hears a buzz. She pauses, tilting her ear towards the living room to listen better. The sound cuts off when his voicemail plays again.

“Oh you have to be kidding me.” She sighs. She presses his name again, then watches between two couch cushions light up. “What the hell, David.”

Mack puts her hands on her lower back, rubbing vertically up and down the muscles. She closes her eyes as she begins to pace, trying to stay calm as she feels some tightness happening in her back and abdomen. She remembers the coaching from the doctor’s that first time mothers tend to be in labor for awhile. She figures she has time, so there is no need to try to find her husband. She can wait until he returns.

Time is not on her side tonight.

Mack starts to experience intense pain in her abdomen while she is cleaning herself up. She grips the counter in the bathroom, moaning out in pain as another contraction takes over her. These are fast, much faster than she was expecting. She feels her abdomen release it’s tension, then stands back up to her full height. She meets her eyes in the mirror, seeing the intensity of what she is experiencing there. This must be active labor. Is it possible for her to be at this stage already?

With immense struggle, she finishes getting clean clothes on, including her roomiest pajama shorts. From their bedroom, Mack looks across the first few fields to the other house on the property. She can see a single light on in Felix and Lorena’s kitchen. She grabs her phone and the keys to the Gator, then makes her way there as fast as she can. Being alone seems like a terrible idea right now.

After parking, she stands up, then immediately bends over, moaning at the horrible pain rocketing through her. 

“Holy fuck. Why does my ass hurt so bad?!” She screeches in Swiss German. Her knuckles go white around the metal pole of the Gator. Lorena notices from where she is washing dishes at the sink. The front door flies open and she rushes down.

“Are you in labor!?” She exclaims. “Where is David?”

“He went to help Bob and- uhhhhhhh.” Mack squats down on instinct. She breathes out the way she learned in the brief Youtube video she watched, then opens her eyes into tiny slits to look at the other woman. “He doesn’t have his phone.”

“Felix!” Lorena snaps loudly, slapping the dishtowel against her thigh. “Get out here!” Felix rushes to the door, looking concerned at Mack’s state. “Go get David from Bob’s. Fast! She doesn’t have much time.”

Mack looks at Lorena, delirious from pain. She has time… right? It’s just painful. This is how labor is.

Felix takes off in his truck as Lorena puts Mack back in the Gator to get her home. Lorena stays with Mack, holding her hand as the contractions continue full force. Lorena times them and they are closing in on three minutes apart. There is no doubt anymore that Mack is in active labor. She thinks about that long, half hour drive to the hospital and tears fill her eyes. She needs relief but the drugs are a ways away at this point. 

“Ooooooo…” Mack trails off as the pain from the contraction steals the noise right from her throat. Holy shit, this is so painful. She is pretty sure cartoon stars of pain are floating in her vision as she looks across the wall at a picture of her and David laughing at their wedding. “Where the fuck are you, babe!” She howls through the room. Lorena pats her hand assuringly. 

“It won’t be long now. I’m sure Felix found him. They’re on their way.” 

On cue, David storms through the front door, bringing with him the smell of wet dirt and the cooled summer breeze.

“Honey, how we doing?” He calls to her.

“Horrible!” She yells. David walks into the living room, tossing his work gloves to the side and kneeling on one knee between her legs. He rubs the outsides of her thighs, collecting her forehead on his shoulder.

“Can you walk?” He mumbles against her right ear.

“Honestly, I don’t think so.” She cries, tears leaking down onto his shirt. “Everything is so intense- ugh.” The next contraction hits her, more forceful than the last one, somehow. She wildly searches for David’s hand. He threads her fingers into hers. 

“Great job, baby. Keep breathing.” He coos into her ear. He keeps one hand in hers, then uses the other to rub her lower back. Mack focuses on his tight, circular motions, letting his skin on hers keep her grounded through the pain. 

“We gotta go. I need drugs. Like now.” She says after the contraction is done. 

“How long between contractions are you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe like two minutes.”

“Damn. Are you serious? Maybe I should have started with that question.”

“Yeah, I probably should have said that.” She nods rapidly.

“Arms around my neck.” He instructs. Mack does so and then he lifts her into his arms. Mack looks up, seeing Felix and Lorena in the doorway.

“Thank you so much.” She says to them both.

“Good luck you two.” Felix tips his hat to them. “I’ll lock up for you. Just go. Truck is running.” 

“Thanks.” David sighs in relief. The truck’s headlights beam across Mack and David as he carries her to the passenger side. The door is open already, so David can slide her in easily. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Mack hisses, gripping David’s shirt as he tries to work his way out of the cab. He halts, putting his hands on her thigh and shoulder. This time, he doesn’t say anything. When Mack comes out of this contraction, she looks at her husband. “Are we going to make it?” She may be a first time mother, but she can tell the baby’s head is close to crowning. The ring of fire is so severe she can feel vomit pushing at her esophagus. 

“I don’t know.” He says honestly. “But I’m gonna try, honey.” 

Not even five minutes into their drive, Mack already knows the answer to her previous question. The pressure between her legs has her moaning at every dip and bump in the Iowa highway. This isn’t good. Her eyes screw shut again in agony.

“David, he is coming…” She pushes through her gritted teeth. Her finger nails pierce into the palm of his right hand as his thumb rubs at her thigh.

“I know, baby.” He takes his hand back to put both hands on the wheel, pushing down harder on the right pedal.

“No, he is coming. Right NOW.”

David takes his eyes off the road, looking at Mack’s face. It’s flushed and twisted in pain. Her breathing is labored as she shifts uncomfortably in the seat. That Youtube video didn’t have the best suggestions for when you’re raw dogging labor in an old truck at 90 MPH. Listen to your body, Mack can hear that calm, mocking voiceover of the video. Personally, Mack wants to turn that communication all the way the fuck off right now. 

“Okay. Do you want me to keep driving or stop?”

“Um.. ahh!!!” Mack starts to whimper.

David takes his right hand off the wheel again, giving it to her so she can squeeze. Her fingernails pierce through the skin on his knuckles. A gush happens and Mack startles. Something feels different now, she cups her stomach, feeling it slightly squishy. In concern, Mack brings her other hand down, then gasps at David, looking wide-eyed at him. “I can feel his head. Ohmygod, it is partially out.”

David immediately guides the truck off to the shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Mack panics. “We have to keep going!”

“Baby, we need to focus on getting him out now. There isn’t time for us to get there. I gotta make sure you’re both safe.” He dials 911 as he gets out of the truck. Mack watches him, shocked and dumbfounded at what is happening right now. 

“Hi, we need an ambulance on County Road 63 near Anderson Lake Trail. My wife is giving birth.” He pauses, pinching the phone between his shoulder and his head as he opens Mack’s door.

“Turn, honey.” Mack is horrified, yet finds herself trusting David completely as he tilts his head in. He gently peels her shorts and panties down, looking directly at her spread legs. He works them all the way off so she is bare and spread eagle in the country night.

“Oooohhhh my god.” Mack hiccups in disbelief. “What’s happening?” She slaps a hand on her forehead. 

“She is 39 weeks. And, uh yeah, his head is partially out. I can see his hair.” He looks up at Mack with sparkling green eyes. Despite it all, she tearfully grins back at him. Their son has hair! David reaches for the lever on her passenger seat, tilting her back further. 

“Scoot back a bit, hon.” He rubs her calf comfortingly with his thumb. Mack watches him in awe now, how completely calm he is as he puts a hand between her legs, ready to catch their child when he enters the world completely. Tears collapse over her lashes and she hiccups from the fear of it all.

Another hearty contraction forces Mack forward, she bares down as David tosses the phone onto the dash. Her knees come up her body and she puffs her breaths through the contraction. 

“Perfect, Mack. You’re doing perfect.” Her husband encourages her softly. A sob retches from Mack’s chest as she feels the baby progress further. “Head is completely out.” David calls towards the phone as more instructions are murmured by the operator. 

“Ow, ow, ow!!” Mack’s howl sears through the dark night. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.” Mack grits down on her teeth, shaking from adrenaline and pain. Tears coat her cheeks as she shakes her head no at David. His face is calm and controlled, even his green eyes as they search her face.

“The only way through this is to get him out now, honey.” David says calmly. Mack wants to ask him if he is as scared shitless as she is, but before she can, she feels the build of another contraction. The next scream gets lost in her esophagus. She slams her head back into the headrest, closing her eyes to try and keep from completely losing it right now. Her baby needs her to get him out. She can’t be scared right now. David is here. He won’t let anything happen to them. He is going to get them through this.

And so is she.

“Okay, guide the baby down and to the side for the shoulders to come out.” The 911 operator coaches David. Mack arches off the seat in pain as the pressure builds excruciatingly fast. Then the next contraction comes and she pushes as hard as she can to end this for all of them.  A roar sounds from her chest that sounds nothing like her. Then the baby hits David’s palms as he hollers excitedly, his hearty “Yes!” filling the dark night.

“He’s out!” Mack opens her arms for the baby and David settles their son’s face into the exposed skin coming through her V-neck. “He is on mama.” David tugs his shirt off, gathering the soft cotton to put on their son.

“Great job, mom! Be careful not to pull anything. Is the baby crying?” The operator asks.

“No.” David says, already rubbing at the baby’s back. He has delivered hundreds of farm animals. He knows there needs to be a noise coming from their baby to deem him okay. He needs to breathe. Mack adds her hand too, rubbing limply at him with her husband until that first cry hits their ears.

“Oh!” She exclaims joyfully. Once the baby is consistently sobbing, David leans into the truck more over Mack’s face to kiss her tenderly. 

“You are a fucking badass, baby!” He kisses her harder then works his way over the tear tracks on both of her cheeks, smearing who knows what on her face too. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” She nods, holding tighter to the baby. David’s eyes drift down to their son and he grins wider.

“Look what our love made, honey.” He whispers as the faint sound of sirens crawls closer. David looks over his right shoulder, seeing the flashing red, white and blue lights. “Hold on.” He murmurs, reaching into the back seat for a blanket. He covers Mack’s still spread legs to give her some modesty until they have to check on her. His big hand drapes over her head, thumb brushing her forehead as she closes her eyes and sighs. “You’re okay, baby. He is too. You’re bleeding some still, but it’s not too much.” David assures her. Fresh tears leak out from her corners. Their son continues to cry in his mama’s arms. Then red and blue lights flood over Mack and David’s faces. She opens her eyes, seeing two paramedics rushing to them.

“How are we doing?” One paramedic asks. David steps aside for them, but opens the back door of the truck to stay close to his wife. He gets in, putting his hands on her shoulders so she knows he is right there with her.

“Um, okay?” Mack laughs, letting them see the baby. He has gotten quiet and curious of his new surroundings. They put a blood pressure cuff around her arm, then put the stethoscope on the baby to hear his heartbeat.

“Baby’s heart sounds good!” The paramedic confirms.”I’m gonna check you, okay?” She moves down between Mack’s legs, assessing the situation. With all the adrenaline pumping through her right now, Mack can’t tell how she is doing. She’s on fire and numb all at the same time.

“We might need a new truck.” Mack says nervously.

“Nah, it’ll come out in the wash.” David assures, kissing the top of her head. 

“Dad, did you deliver?” The other paramedic asks as he checks on Mack’s vitals. 

“Yeah!” David grins excitedly. “I knew all that calf birthing would come in handy one day.” Mack scoffs at him.

“Did you just compare me to a cow?”

“No! You were much nicer than the heifers, honey.” The paramedics chuckle in agreement. 

Mack smiles tiredly.

“Weirdly comforting.”

In another few minutes, they have Mack and the baby strapped onto the stretcher. Mack assures David they are okay and he should drive the truck the rest of the way. He follows behind, using the ambulance as an excuse to rip down these old highways from his childhood. He parks the car fast, then runs to the ambulance where they are unloading Mack. Several nurses and two doctors are waiting for them. They all converge on Mack at once.

“David?” She calls weakly, losing him in the sea of people. 

“I’m right behind you, baby. It’s okay.” She nods, holding their son tighter. 

“Congratulations! What a night for you!” A doctor in a white coat says, holding a clip board. “Did anyone happen to catch a time when baby came into the world?” The doctor asks. “Not that you were busy at all?” David laughs. 

“11:14pm.” Mack swoons, thinking of how incredible he is. Everything felt so rushed and crazy. How did he even think to get the time of birth? Because he is David- calm, cool and collected in the rawness of any moment. She loves that about her husband.

Once Mack is settled into a room, they finish the final steps of delivery. The team checks her over, deciding she will need a few stitches. No one is surprised. Their son came fast and furious and Mack didn’t even quite know it was happening until he was being put in her arms by her husband on the side of the road.

Mack looks down at their son as they work on her. He has been cleaned and diapered, covered by a hospital blanket advertising back is best and a striped hat on his head. David stands next to her, rubbing her scalp gently as a tension headache throbs against her skull. The room is quiet and calm, much different than the last hour. Their son closes his eyes and puckers his little lips, already content in his new world.

“Does baby have a name?” A nurse next to the computer asks from across the room. David looks at Mack, kissing her as they both smile, thinking of the person they are naming their son after, who they hope he takes after too.

“Nico Carlson.” Mack answers. 

“Welcome Nico!” The room cheers excitedly. Mack starts to weep, thinking of her dad back in Switzerland, going about his day having no idea he has a grandson with his name now.

Later, when the lights are dim and everyone has left them alone, David sits in a chair next to Mack’s bed, looking down at their son in his arms. They’ve both already done skin to skin, now it’s time to rest, but David can’t. His gaze lifts from their son, who will go by Nicky, to Mack who is sleeping lightly in her bed. She glows now, even after her hard night. He can’t believe how lucky he is to have her.

The night replays in his head- the storm, Mack’s constant discomfort, how low she kept complaining the baby felt. David should have known. He should have sent Felix to help Bob so he was there to help his wife through labor. Instead, he barely got to hold her hand through any of it like he promised her. David reaches out for her hand, resting by her hip. He is careful of her IV as he threads their fingers together. Mack’s eye lashes flutter open. 

“Is he okay?” She asks.

“Yes. Are you?”

“Yes.” 

“Then we are all good.” He squeezes her hand.

“You need to get some sleep. You’re going on almost 24 hours being awake.” 

“Nah, I run on minutes.” Mack quietly looks him over, then slides her hips back across the bed.

“Come lay with me.” 

David slides into bed beside her, carefully holding their son in his arms. Mack settles on the other side of David’s chest from their son, looking at his sleeping face. His little lips are split open, with fast breathing pushing in and out of them. 

“How did we live without him before?” Mack murmurs, rubbing her fingers along his swaddled arms.

“I don’t know. Suddenly, he’s all the world revolves around.”

“I can’t stop staring at him. He looks like your twin.”

“Minus those big dimples in his cheeks. Those are mama’s.” Mack chuckles. Yes, but before they were hers, they were his namesake’s. David sighs, pressing his fingers deeper into her back as he kisses her head. “I’m so sorry you had to do so much of yesterday alone. I should have checked for my phone and I didn’t. I let you down.”

“You delivered our baby…” Mack trails off, blinking incredulously. 

“Well, I had to deliver the baby in the truck because we were so late. If I had my phone, or didn’t go to help Bob-"

“We will never know.” Mack says quietly. “And as parents now, we need to let that stuff go. The things we can’t change or the paths we didn’t take, like not being parents. We are here- exactly where we are supposed to be- perfect and healthy.” 

“I knew you were going to be an incredible mama and wife. Thank you, honey, for giving me my entire world.” 

Mack puckers her lips. He leans down to kiss her hard, lovingly, relentlessly. His hand cradles her firmly to his chest, then they both turn back down to stare at their son’s face. 

Nico Carlson has already changed the world.

[wc-confessions]

i hate swiftpaw x brightpaw tbh. like even besides the fact that they're first cousins which is a semi recent retcon (not all that recent really but not stated clearly in the first arc) what does making them romantic add to their story?? it adds a weird undertone to brightheart immediately moving on to cloudtail, even though she actually already liked him and never showed signs of liking swiftpaw instead, aaand... that's it

they barely even have any scenes together before the dog attack so the extent of their romance and what's always shown in art of them is brightheart mourning swiftpaw and feeling conflicted about getting with cloudtail and swiftpaw watching on sadly but approvingly from starclan and i honestly just think this is kind of a bummer. like that's a sweet dynamic but it's not them! it's just not in any way. brightpaw and cloudpaw were already sharing a nest and grooming each other to sleep i really really doubt she had a secret crush on swiftpaw the whole time. and ignoring the immense guilt, regret, anger, shame and grief swiftpaw must have been feeling after the dog attack to focus on how sad he is because the girl he almost got killed has a new boyfriend is... a bummer!!! there's a lot you can do with swiftpaw and this is the least interesting choice imaginable in my opinion

warriors has more than enough romantic tragedies already, why can't one story be about a pair of best friends or family? why is someone mourning a close platonic friend they lost in a traumatic accident so unheard of that they just HAD to have had a crush on them?

ฅ^>⩊<^ ฅ