#thank GODS that the survivor i was supporting had left by then i was so embarrassed

[wqnsho]

resurface | kang dae-ho x gn! reader

*.✧ synopsis: after years of heartbreak and betrayal, you’ve learned to bury your emotions to survive. but when your high school sweetheart, kang dae-ho, unexpectedly appears in the deadly game you're also in, the walls you built around your heart begin to crack. As past and present collide, survival becomes about more than just staying alive *.✧ word count: 10.1k (yeah) *.✧ warnings: squidgame season 2 spoilers, violence, death, trauma, toxic relationships, cursing, fluff, angst. your number is 389. *.✧ note: dae-ho won against in-ho by just .2%! thank you all so much for the support. my in-ho fanfic reached 1K notes already, while 1k+ of you participated in my poll! I'm very thankful for the support :> i was in the middle of editing in-ho's fic when the polls finished, when i saw how close the votes were i laughed. luckily i only needed to tweak a bit in this fic for it to be done. enjoy reading!! >:) dae-ho is such a cutiee!! long italicized texts are flashbacks. masterlist | request here

“Shit, I just moved didn’t I?” Player 196 asked in a lighthearted tone after swatting the bee that landed on her. Before anyone could answer, she dropped dead to the ground, a bullet from god knows where piercing through her skull.

The area erupted in chaos as players realized the horrific truth: to be eliminated meant death. Others tried to make a desperate run for it, while some froze, paralyzed from fear, and you were one of them. 

Your eyes trailed down to the corpse laying a few feet in front of you. Your heart dropped. That could’ve been you.

You should've trusted your gut. You should’ve known that whatever bullshit that shady man in a suit said was too good to be true. But here you were, paying the price of your stupid decisions.

The air was thick with panic as a bloody massacre unfolded before your eyes. People who ran got shot left and right, while those who stayed survived. Once it cleared those who moved, the mechanical doll turned around, its eerie voice rising in song. The players were too stunned to move. Only one person had the courage to act—Player 456. With unwavering resolve, they ran ahead and instructed you all to hide behind someone bigger than you.

The rest of you followed suit, moving quickly. You ended up behind Player 230—Thanos, a rapper drowning in 1.19 billion won of debt. You didn’t trust him, and your instincts proved right. As the game progressed, he shoved people ahead of him, ending their lives without hesitation. Yet, you had to give him some credit: the man could hold a pose.

One by one, players crossed the finish line. As the timer reached 0, the hellish game finally ended. You were shaking, your body trembling with the aftershock, but at least you were still alive. The guards escorted everyone back to the main area, where the survivors collapsed to their knees, begging for mercy, begging to go home. You could hear them, desperate, pleading. It was almost unbearable.

“There must’ve been a misunderstanding,” the square guard’s voice rang out, cutting through the despair. His tone was flat and devoid of emotion. “We are not trying to harm you. We are presenting you with an opportunity.”

His words did little to reassure anyone. Your eyes rolled at their response. Misunderstanding my ass! The chance of survival, of escape, felt more like a cruel joke than anything else. But before the guard could continue, a voice rose above the rest, sharp and commanding.

“Clause three of the consent form!” Player 456 called out, his voice filled with defiance.

Everyone turned to look at him, some surprised, others hopeful. You were no different. You hadn’t expected anyone to stand up in this situation. You didn’t even know what clause three was, you skipped that part and immediately signed the form, but there was something in the way he spoke that made you believe he knew more than the rest of you.

“The games may be terminated upon a majority vote, correct?” he demanded, his eyes never leaving the guard.

The square guard responded without missing a beat, his tone unchanged. “That is correct.”

“Then let us take a vote right now,” Player 456 pressed, his voice firm and unyielding.

There was a brief silence before the guard spoke again, acknowledging the request with a chilling calmness. “Of course, we respect your right to freedom of choice.” He paused, and in that moment, you could feel the hope that had been buried deep inside everyone start to stir. It wasn’t much, but it was something. “But first, let me announce the prize amount that has been accumulated.”

With the press of a button, the room shifted. The cold, sterile space took on a strange new color, bathed in a soft, eerie glow. A massive piggy bank, almost comically large, descended from the ceiling, its mechanical limbs creaking with the weight. The sound of bills filling it echoed through the room, a surreal sound that only added to the strangeness of the moment. It felt like something out of a twisted casino, a game that didn’t care about the lives it destroyed, only the money it could accumulate.

“The number of players eliminated in the first game is 91,” the guard continued, as the money filled the piggy bank at a steady pace. “Therefore, a total of 9.1 billion won has been accumulated. If you choose to quit the games now, the 365 remaining players can equally divide the 9.1 billion won and leave with your share.”

“How much is that?” Player 100 asked.

“Each person’s share would be 24,931,500 won,” the guard answered flatly, almost as if it was an insignificant amount.

You could hear the gasps of disbelief that rippled through the crowd. It was hard to wrap your mind around it. You almost died for that? The amount seemed insignificant compared to the terror you’d experienced. You could hear others murmuring, their frustration and disbelief growing louder. What good was 24 million won when you had been pushed to the brink of death, when you had witnessed so much suffering?

“Twenty million? You said 45.6 billion!” Player 230 shouted, his voice filled with outrage.

The guard’s response was cold, calculated. “The rule was that a hundred million won would be accumulated for each eliminated player. If you choose to play the next game, and more players are eliminated, the prize amount will increase accordingly.”

The answer felt hollow, like an empty promise that was meant to keep you on the hook.

“Then how much will it be if you survive until the very end?” someone asked, their voice tinged with desperation.

“As I already told you, the total prize money for all 456 players is 45.6 billion won. Those who make it through all six games will equally divide the 45.6 billion won.”

A hush fell over the room, as the reality of the prize set in. 45.6 billion won. It was an obscene amount of money. The sum felt impossible, unreal. But at the same time, it was exactly what so many of you needed. The temptation of that massive prize loomed in the air, a beacon in the darkness. Could you really leave with only 24 million? Was that all your life was worth?

“So, if you’re the only one to survive, you get 45.6 billion won?” Player 230 asked, as if the question needed to be confirmed, just to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood.

“That is correct,” the guard answered, his voice detached, like it was just another part of the game.

For a brief moment, the room seemed to breathe in unison. The weight of the prize, the gravity of the situation, pressed down on everyone. People began to murmur among themselves, the excitement in their voices unmistakable. The idea of that unimaginable sum of money—more than they had ever seen in their lives—became a tangible thing in the air. People who had been trembling in fear moments before now looked around, their eyes glinting with a new kind of hunger. The atmosphere shifted, the air thick with the scent of greed and desperation.

“So we can take a vote again and decide to leave after the next game?” someone asked, voice laced with uncertainty, but also with a flicker of hope.

“As promised in the consent form, you can take a vote after each game and decide to leave with the prize money accumulated up to that point,” the guard confirmed. “We always prioritize your voluntary actions.”

The voting began, and the room filled with tension once again. Player 456  was the first one to vote. He stepped forward, pressing X without hesitation. Others followed, some pressing X, others O. When your turn came, you felt your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t hesitate. You stepped forward, pressing O with a sense of finality, the sound of the button clicking louder in your ears than it should have been. You placed the patch on your jacket, marking your decision, and walked back to your side of the room.

You didn’t look back.

You weren’t sure when you had made up your mind, but the choice was clear. Despite everything, despite the fear gnawing at the edges of your resolve, you knew you couldn’t walk away now. 

Out there, in the real world, the debt that had dragged you into this nightmare would still be waiting. The vultures would circle, just as they always had, but now you could fight back. You could take a step toward something better. The thought of going back to the crushing weight of your debts, to the life that had led you to this point, filled you with dread. There was nothing for you out there anymore.

The prize, the money, the possibility of escaping this endless cycle—this was the only chance you had left. There was no turning back now.

As much as you sympathized with those who wanted to leave, You just couldn’t. Here, at least, there was hope. A sliver of it. And if you survived, you could finally break free. You could pay it all off. You could start over. For the first time in what felt like forever, you had a chance—one that you couldn’t let slip through your fingers.

Your gaze wandered to the others, watching as they made their decisions. Some pressed X with shaking hands, their faces filled with desperation to leave and go home. Others pressed O with grim determination, their eyes locked on the future, no matter how uncertain. And yet, the overwhelming weight of it all crashed down on you again, heavy and suffocating.

You looked up at the piggy bank hanging high above, its golden glow mocking you with promises of salvation. If you made it—if you became the lone survivor—you’d earn it all. 45.6 billion won. Enough to erase every debt. Enough to silence the loan sharks who haunted your dreams. Enough to leave it all behind and disappear.

But as you stared at it, bile rose in your throat. Was this all your life had become—fighting for money, sacrificing everything just to survive? Your stomach twisted as your fists clenched, nails digging into your palms.

Reaching for your necklace, you clutched it tightly, the familiar weight grounding you for a moment. Its warmth offered a flicker of comfort, but even that couldn’t silence the emptiness creeping in. Here, hope felt like a dangerous thing to hold onto.

Out there, you had nothing. No one. Over time, everyone had given up on you. Your friends had drifted away, unwilling to carry the weight of your problems. Your family had turned their backs, tired of the chaos and the shame. And then there was... him.

He left without a word. No explanation, no goodbye. Just gone, as if you had never mattered at all.

When he disappeared, it felt like the last thread holding you together unraveled. You tried to move on, to make sense of it, but the truth was simple: no one stayed. Out there, you were invisible—a burden no one wanted to carry.

But here? Here, you had a purpose. As twisted and brutal as it was, the games gave you something to hold onto. Every step forward felt like proof that you could still fight, still matter, even if it was only to yourself.

You tore your gaze from the piggy bank and stared down at your shoes. It used to be white— pure. Now it’s scuffed and worn, much like you. Each scratch and stain told a story of a life lived in survival mode, clinging to scraps of hope. You couldn’t help but wonder—if you walked away now, what would be waiting for you? Nothing but the same endless cycle of despair.

At least here, you had a chance. A sick, twisted, blood-soaked chance.

And that was more than the outside world had ever given you.

In the midst of your inner turmoil, you didn’t notice someone standing beside you. They were looking at you, as if they wanted to make small talk yet didn't know how.

There was something bugging Dae-ho and he didn't know what it was. He couldn't stay still, couldn't think properly, couldn’t stay calm. He desperately needs a distraction, and he needs it now. But what could he possibly do? He can't just slap himself or shout. No way, that's too embarrassing. 

The male thought deeply before an idea popped up in his head. Eureka! He could try and talk to someone! His excitement died down as fast as it came. Yeah, he could try and talk to someone but who? His eyes scanned the crowd. To his dismay, most of the people surrounding him were scary oldies, and he was not willing to take the risk. He looked to his left, spotting a full head of hair. 

His gaze landed on you. You're young, he thinks— the white spots in your hair were less than those around him. He felt a little nervous, unsure of how to approach you, but he had no choice. This was his chance.

He coughed lightly, a test to see if you would notice him. 

No response. 

He tried again, this time a bit louder. 

Still nothing.

He began to get irritated, were you deaf or something? Shaking his irrational thoughts, Dae-ho got ready to fake cough again.

Then, out of nowhere, an old man in front of him turned and glared, sending a shiver down his spine. The male stopped, his face flushing. He needed to stop being a coward. He steeled himself, like the marine he was before doing it the right way.

He then stared at your unresponsive figure with intense, wide, and bulging eyes hoping that you would feel his intense stare and finally look at him. When that didn’t work, he began chanting “Hey! Look at me!” in his head just in case you were a mind reader. 

To nobody's surprise, his ‘plan’ flunked. Letting out an audible sigh, Dae-ho shook his head. He stopped being a wuss and garnered courage like a true marine. He should just approach you the right way, a single tap on the shoulder wouldn't hurt anybody right? Right.

As soon as his hand touched your shoulder, you ducked down and sneezed—an odd timing. He froze, unsure whether this was a sign to stop or if you were actually a mind reader and was avoiding him. But before he could pull his hand away, you reverted back to your original position— bumping into his outstretched hand.

He jumped back, startled. His cheeks flushed again as he realized he’d intruded on your space. In a sudden burst of nervous energy, he bowed deeply— a perfect ninety degrees, his hands clasped in front of him.

“I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean to... you see, I was feeling a little bored and wanted to talk to someone. Between you and me, I don’t want to talk to some old gray-haired people in debt. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable, you’re free to slap me and ignore me!”

He spoke in one long breath, the words tumbling out faster than he could control. Then, he froze, bracing himself—waiting for a slap, a harsh word, anything to tell him he had crossed a line. Or maybe, just maybe, he was waiting for you to give him a sign that it was all okay. The silence that followed was suffocating, hanging between you like a heavyweight, neither of you dared to break.

When you didn’t respond, he began to doubt himself. Was this a joke? Was he imagining everything? Had he pushed too far?

And then—

“…Dae-ho…?”

The silence that was there from the beginning stretched even further as Dae-ho froze, his heart pounding. He could feel his chest tightening with every breath, his thoughts spinning in circles. Was this really happening?

He slowly lifted his head, praying, hoping that what he was thinking wasn’t true. His eyes scanned your face, searching for any sign that this was just some cruel illusion. He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision, but it didn’t help. You were still there, staring back at him, just as real as the cold walls of the room around him.

“[Name]...”

How could this be real? The years apart, the silence, the pain—it had all carved its place deep inside you, wounds that never fully healed. And yet, here he was, standing before you like a ghost dragged from the past to haunt you. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

You stared at him, unable to look away, yet every second felt like a fresh wound. How could he just stand there, shaking and silent, as if you weren’t the one left to pick up the shattered pieces of your life when he walked away? Your chest tightened, the air suddenly too thick to breathe.

He looked so different, yet so heartbreakingly familiar. Those same eyes that used to meet yours with warmth now avoided your gaze like a coward. The same hands that once held yours trembled at his sides, as if they carried the weight of something unsaid.

You wanted to scream at him, to demand answers to the questions that had haunted you for years. Why did he leave? Why didn’t he say goodbye? The questions burned in your chest, but no words came. The silence between you was louder than any explanation he could give—louder than the ache of the years he left you to carry alone.

And yet, some small part of you hated yourself for hoping, for wanting him to say something that would make it all make sense. But as his lips parted and nothing came, his silence was louder than any excuse could ever be.

Cheers suddenly filled the room as the two of you looked away from each other. Looking at the scoreboard, you released a sigh of relief as O won, meaning the games would still proceed. 

Following the guards orders to disperse, you walked away as fast as you could. You needed to run away for a while, away from everyone, away from him. You weaved through the sea of players, ignoring the chaotic mix of relief and despair filling the room. Every step felt heavier, your mind still reeling from the sight of him. Why here? Why now?

Your chest ached. The large room offered little solace, the murmur of restless voices and distant footsteps a constant reminder of where you were. You sought refuge in the thin, scratchy blanket of your assigned bed, pulling it over yourself as if it could shield you from the weight pressing down on your chest.

Laying in a fetal position, you tried to steady your breathing, to stop the trembling in your hands. But his face—his eyes—kept flashing in your mind, a painful reminder of everything you thought you’d buried.

Anger simmered just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over. You clenched your fists, an attempt to stop the tears from flowing. But no amount of control could erase the gnawing ache in your chest.

“[Name]...”

The voice froze you in place. 

“Can we… talk?” His voice was quiet, almost pleading.

Under the covers, you exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to keep your tone steady. “What’s there to talk about, Dae-ho?”

His jaw tightened, and he took a cautious step closer to your bed. “I… I didn’t think I’d see you here. I didn’t think I’d see you again at all.”

“Neither did I,” you replied curtly. “And yet, here we are.”

He flinched at your words, guilt flashing in his eyes not that you could see it. “I know I owe you an explanation.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “An explanation? After all these years? After you disappeared without a word? You think I need that now, here of all places?”

His lips parted as if to argue, but he stopped himself. Instead, he looked down, his hands gripping the fabric of his jumpsuit. “I wanted to explain. I really did. But I didn’t know how.”

“You didn’t know how?” you repeated, incredulous. “You didn’t know how to tell me you were leaving? That you were giving up on us? That you—”

Your voice cracked, and you stopped, swallowing the lump in your throat. You refused to let him hear you cry. Not here. Not now.

“I didn’t give up on you,” he said softly.

His words hung in the air, but they did nothing to soothe the ache inside you. You shook your head once more, your voice trembling. “You left me alone, Dae-ho. You walked away without a word, and you left me to deal with everything by myself. Don’t tell me you didn’t give up.”

Silence followed, thick and suffocating. You could feel his eyes on your figure under the covers, before hearing footsteps walk away. You didn’t expect much, knowing that all he does is run from his responsibilities. But why did it still hurt? 

As you went to collect your dinner, you couldn’t help but overhear familiar laughter. Laughter that you used to love listening to. Silently gazing at Dae-ho’s figure, you watch in silence as he makes small talk with a group of men in the corner of the room. A small smile crept up your face, even after all those years he still has his charming laugh. You moved your gaze to the guard as they handed you your food, with a small bow you thanked them before going back to your bed. 

Looking at him one more time, your eyes widened in surprise as a set of eyes clashed with yours. Thankfully, it wasn’t Dae-ho. It was 001. There was something in his stare that made you scared. Maybe Dae-ho told them about your history and now they were angry at you, either way, who were you to care? You broke eye contact first, setting your gaze elsewhere as you retreated back to your assigned bed. Little did you know Dae-ho was doing the same, looking at you with longing eyes every time you had your back turned from him.

The next day came quickly, the game even quicker. You convinced a group to let you join their team with your gonggi skills. They were reluctant at first but had no choice but to let you in as the timer was nearing its end. Your team went through the games with ease, everyone was a pro on the games— you included. 

As the guard placed the table in front of you, you and your team squatted, the familiar weight of the stones in your hands grounding you. It reminded you of something, something far simpler, back when you were young.

“The slowest will have to buy the winner dinner, deal?” you said with a playful grin, your voice filled with mischievous confidence as you laid out the challenge.

Dae-ho’s eyes widened, shaking his head dramatically. “That’s unfair! You only say that because you’re a pro at gonggi!” he shot back, his voice half-laughing and half-complaining, clearly trying to defend himself.

Currently, the two of you, still in your high school uniforms, are sprawled on the floor of your room, surrounded by an amusing mess of half-done activities. The afternoon had been a carefree escape from schoolwork and responsibilities, as you had decided to skip school for the day. Your parents were away, so you had the house all to yourselves.

The floor was scattered with papers, a few textbooks left open, and snacks you’d absentmindedly snacked on while getting lost in your own little world. Dae-ho’s hair was a chaotic mess of clips, ties, and failed attempts at creating something resembling style. 

Meanwhile, your face was painted with makeup. Your eyes were covered in uneven eyeshadow, and your lipstick had smudged onto your cheeks in a way that had you wondering if you'd even be able to wash it off later. It was ridiculous, but it was also perfect. There was no need for perfection when you were together, just moments of unfiltered fun. You didn’t mind looking silly—it was a shared experience, after all.

You leaned back on the floor, hands resting behind your head, watching him with an amused expression. He had always been competitive, and you knew he wouldn’t let this challenge slide without giving it his all. But you also knew he wouldn’t back down.

"You're just mad because I'm about to beat you,” you teased, raising an eyebrow and holding the gonggi stones in your hand. “I’ve got this in the bag."

Dae-ho let out an exaggerated sigh, pretending to be defeated, but his eyes betrayed him—the challenge was on. “Fine. The loser buys the winner dinner.” he said, as the fire in his eyes burned brightly.

You smiled, leaning closer and placing the stones carefully in front of both of you. “You’re on,” you replied, your voice light but determined.

The game, which was just supposed to be a simple way to pass the time, had suddenly become a full-blown competition, complete with stakes. Dae-ho didn’t like losing, and you knew that meant he would give everything he had to win, but you weren’t going to make it easy for him.

With that, the tension between you both shifted. You could feel the energy change as you both focused on the stones in front of you, your hands hovering over them, ready to begin the game. The silly banter was still there, but now it was mixed with a more serious undercurrent—a challenge that was both fun and a little bit intense.

Dae-ho glanced at you once more, his expression playful but competitive, and you could see the slight smirk forming on his lips. “Get ready to buy me that dinner,” he said with mock confidence, ready to show you he was the better player.

You laughed, shaking your head. “We’ll see about that, Dae-ho.”

And with that, the game began, the stones flying through the air as you both competed to see who could win the challenge, the promise of dinner hanging in the balance.

After breezing through the first rounds, you placed all the stones on top of your hand, heart racing. You nervously exhaled, forcing yourself to focus.

“I’m honestly jealous of your gonggi skills,” you admitted, leaning back in your chair as you sat beside Dae-ho at your favorite hotpot place, a small smile playing on your lips as you stirred your bowl of soup.

Dae-ho, who had just taken a sip from his drink, blinked at you in mock surprise. “You? Jealous of me? You’re the one who won!” he said with a playful glare, his tone lighthearted.

You laughed softly, shaking your head at him. “Not that part, silly! I always notice that you always catch all five stones with ease. Even if I’m fast, I still mess up once in a while.” You looked down at your half-eaten bowl, the warmth from the hotpot filling your chest, but it wasn’t just from the food—it was the company that made everything feel so right.

Dae-ho’s expression softened as he put down his chopsticks, giving you his full attention. He nodded thoughtfully, then smiled, and for a moment, you felt as if the world outside didn’t exist, just the two of you, sharing this simple, quiet moment together.

“Well, my lovely [nickname],” he said, his voice taking on that playful, teasing tone you knew so well. “I can always tell you a trick,” he continued, raising an eyebrow mischievously. “But it’ll cost you. My secrets aren’t free, you know.”

Your curiosity piqued, you tilted your head, giving him a playful. “Go on, then.”

Dae-ho’s smile widened as he turned his cheek toward you, tilting his head just enough to make it clear what he wanted. You giggled, rolling your eyes but giving in, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his left cheek.

He grinned, the sparkle in his eyes making your heart skip a beat, and without missing a beat, he pointed to the other side, silently asking for more. You couldn’t help but smile, kissing his right cheek just as lightly.

Then, Dae-ho tilted his head again, offering his forehead with that trademark mischievous smile. “And this one?” he asked, his eyes glinting with excitement.

You didn’t even hesitate, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his forehead, your heart fluttering in the simple affection. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, and the more you kissed him, the more the world around you faded away.

He stretched his hand out next, offering the back of his left hand with an expectant grin. You chuckled at how silly this game was becoming, but you still kissed it gently, your heart swelling with warmth. His grin only grew wider, and before you knew it, he was extending his right hand, offering it up for another kiss.

You kissed it too, your heart fluttering again at how effortlessly he could make everything feel so special. Each little moment, each silly gesture, you loved it all.

Finally, with that signature grin of his, Dae-ho turned fully toward you, his eyes sparkling with playfulness. “And this one?” he asked, tilting his face toward yours, the question hanging in the air like an invitation.

Without even thinking, you closed the space between you and kissed his lips, a soft, lingering kiss that felt full of promise and affection. The moment was so pure, so simple, that it left you breathless in the best way. Nothing mattered but the two of you, sharing this quiet, tender connection.

Dae-ho smiled against your lips, his arms subtly drawing you closer as he pulled back just slightly, a lovestruck expression on his face. “You’re the best, [nickname].” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he nuzzled you gently. His voice was soft and full of affection, and you couldn’t help but smile back, your heart swelling with warmth.

You leaned in, your voice teasing. “So? What’s the trick?”

Dae-ho let out a dramatic sigh, pretending to be exasperated but still smiling. “Can’t I have a lovely moment with you?” he asked, his tone light and affectionate.

“Dae-ho.” you said with a small laugh, nudging him playfully.

“Fine, fine! You’re a party pooper!” he joked, giving you a nudge back before getting serious. He shifted slightly, sitting up straighter and showing you a more focused expression. “Alright, listen carefully.” He mimicked the motions as he spoke. “What I do is first calm myself down. Inhale... and exhale.” He demonstrated the breathing technique, his chest rising and falling slowly. 

He paused before looking at you expectantly. Rolling your eyes, you copied his movement. Inhale and exhale.

Satisfied, he continued. “Once you find your peace, you put all your might in your palm so the stones don’t fall. Strong foundation.”

You nodded, watching him carefully. “Got it,” you said, your gaze fixed on his hands as he continued with his instructions.

He smiled, clearly pleased by your attention. “Then you throw your hand upwards—just right. Not too low, not too high,” he said, raising one hand and showing you the perfect motion. “Count one...” He paused dramatically, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Count one,” you repeated, laughing softly at how serious he was being, yet how cute he looked while teaching you.

“Then catch!” 

You threw your hand up. It felt natural. It felt right. The stones landed, and you caught them all in one smooth motion.

“Hey! I caught it on the first try!” You grinned, excitement rushing through you. You looked up, expecting to see Dae-ho’s proud smile, the one that always made your heart race.

But instead, you met the cold, expressionless face of a guard. Reality hit like a punch to the gut. This wasn’t Dae-ho. This wasn’t your favorite hotpot place.

Your heart twisted, the warmth you replaced by the emptiness of this place. You tried to smile, but it felt hollow. The distant cheers of your teammates did nothing to drown out the silence in your mind.

You couldn’t shake the memory, his teasing smile, his quiet words, the way his lips brushed against yours. Those were moments you could never go back to. As you moved on to the next station, the sting of that memory lingered, sharp and painful. The sweetness was gone. It was just you, alone in this game, with no place for memories of simpler times.

Everything was a blur after that, your mind occupied by what happened during the second game. Gonggi was something you always bonded over, and that game brought unwanted memories back. It got to a point wherein the way you’d always made decisions, small or big, was by playing gonggi. Where to eat? Play gonggi. Who’s paying the bill? Gonggi. 

But now, as you lay at your bed, staring at the ceiling, it wasn’t the same. Your mind wandered back to that moment, remembering his smile, the way his eyes would soften when he looked at you. That warmth, that sense of belonging, was gone. The past felt distant, like a dream you couldn’t hold onto anymore.

You closed your eyes, trying to push the memory away. Suddenly, the light went out. 

The light went out? That wasn’t right.

You opened one eye and saw Dae-ho standing above you, looking down at you with that nervous, familiar expression.

“Congrats, [Name]. I knew you could do it.” he said softly.

You looked up at him, emotions swirling in your chest. “Congrats also, Dae-ho.” you replied quietly. 

You stared at him as the weight of everything hung heavy in the air between you. You had so many emotions running through your veins—hurt, betrayal, confusion, anger—and yet, here he was, standing in front of you, trying to explain himself, trying to make sense of everything.

“[Name]... Please, talk to me.” he repeated, his voice soft but desperate.

You didn’t move at first. The space between you, filled with so many unspoken words. Finally, you stood up, leading him to a quiet corner between the bed frames, away from the chaos. The moment felt strangely intimate, but so far removed from anything you could have ever imagined.

Dae-ho was the first to break the silence, his voice shaking with the weight of his confession. “I didn’t want to leave, [Name]. I didn’t... but I had no choice.” He paused, his face twisted with guilt as he rubbed his hands together nervously.

“My father...” His voice cracked as he spoke, his words thick with regret. “He was... always trying to control me. Pushing me into things I didn’t want. He never let me make my own decisions. But when it came to you... he saw how much I cared. He saw how soft I was because of you, and he hated it. He thought I wasn’t strong enough to survive—how I wasn't becoming a real man, so he sent me away. He made me join the Marines. He didn’t even let me choose. I tried to fight him. I tried to say no, but he didn’t care.”

You felt your heart break all over again. “But... Why didn’t you fight harder for us? Why didn’t you try harder to stay? To... tell me?” The words were out before you could stop them, and they stung more than you’d expected.

“I... I couldn’t,” he whispered. “He had me. I thought if I left, if I did what he said, it would all be over. That he’d leave me alone. But when I came back, you were gone. I couldn’t find you. I looked for you everywhere, [Name], but you and your family were gone. And I thought... I thought I lost you forever. And I couldn’t fix it.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from crying. “But you didn’t even try to find me, Dae-ho. You just... disappeared. I waited for you. I thought I was worth waiting for, but you made me feel the  opposite. You just left, and I had to pick up the pieces of my life without you.”

“Please don’t say that. You are worth fighting for [Name].”

His eyes filled with sorrow, and he reached out for you, but you pulled back slightly, not ready for his touch just yet. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I could make it right when I came back, but... it wasn’t the same. And now I’m afraid I’ve lost you for good.”

Your chest tightened, and you fought to keep your emotions in check. “You didn’t lose me, Dae-ho. If anything, I still think about you. Every street I walk, every place I visit. I always tried to find any sign of you. You just… you never gave me a chance to be part of your life anymore. I can’t just go back to how things were. I can’t pretend everything’s okay, because it’s not.”

“I understand,” Dae-ho said quietly, his voice laced with sincerity. “I know you’ve been through so much. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you before, but I’m here now. Let me make it right. Please…”

He paused, swallowing hard before speaking again, as if the weight of his words was too heavy to bear. “If you just vote to go home, we can leave all this behind. We don’t have to keep playing. We can go back to the way things were. We can be free. We can live together.”

His words hit you like a punch to the stomach, leaving you breathless. You couldn’t wrap your mind around what he was asking. He wanted you to vote to go home? That’s all it took? To end this nightmare?

You took a step back, your heart hammering in your chest. The sudden flood of emotions was overwhelming—confusion, anger, hurt, all rolled into one. “Is that what you think this is about, Dae-ho? You think you can just tell me to vote to go home and everything will magically go back to normal? That we’ll just go back to living in some fairy tale together?”

His face faltered with guilt, but you couldn’t stop yourself. The words were already tumbling out, and the anger was building with each second. “You have no idea what it’s like for me out there. I don’t have anything left. No family. No safety. No way out. If I leave without the money, I’ll be dead before I even make it out of the game. The people who own me—they’ll come for me. They’ll end me.”

You couldn’t stop the rise of panic and fury in your voice. “You think voting to go home is going to fix everything? Do you think that’ll save me from what’s out there? You think that’s going to protect me?”

You were shaking now, your words louder, sharper with each passing second. “I’m not here by choice. I didn’t sign up for this game to have some fun. I’m here because I have no other option. I need the money. I have to win. I don’t have the luxury of walking away. If I don’t make it, I’m dead. They’ll take everything I have left. They’ll take my life. And you want me to just throw that away?”

His face went pale, his hands trembling as he reached out, but you stepped back, your emotions running too high. You were drowning in your own fear, your own anger, and he was standing there, asking for something you couldn’t give. Not now. Not when your very existence was on the line.

“I’m not going to die for you to feel like you’ve done something good,” you spat, your voice cold and full of finality. “I’ll keep playing. I’ll keep fighting. I’ll keep voting O if that’s what it takes to stay alive. Because I don’t have the luxury to just quit. I don’t have the luxury to go home. If I die here, then I die here. But at least I had a chance. A chance to keep living.”

You could see the regret flooding his face now, the guilt in his eyes clear as day. But it didn’t matter. You had already crossed the line, said everything you needed to say. The wound had already been made, and nothing would heal it now.

“They took everything from me,” you whispered, voice cracking with the weight of the confession. “I don’t have anything left. This game, this nightmare is all I have. If I leave without any money, without anything... they’ll take me. They’ll take my life.”

His expression was full of pain now. The words hit him hard, and you saw the guilt swirling inside him. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but no words came. You saw the regret in his eyes, the apology he couldn’t voice—but it was too little, too late.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered finally, his voice thick with regret. “I never meant to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know. I didn’t know it was this bad. I didn’t know you were fighting for your life.”

You shook your head slowly, stepping back from him. “You didn’t know? You never bothered to ask. You didn’t care enough to understand what I was going through. You just assumed everything would be fine, that we could go back to normal. But you didn’t ask, Dae-ho. You didn’t care.”

His face crumpled with the realization of what you were saying, and the weight of your words hit him like a ton of bricks. But you didn’t care. Not now. Not when you were holding on to the one thing that mattered to you right now—your will to survive.

“I’m sorry, Dae-ho,” you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips, but full of emotion. “But I care about surviving. I care about living. And if I have to vote O, if I have to keep playing to do that, then that’s what I’ll do.”

For a long moment, you stood there, facing each other in the silence, your hearts both full of unsaid things. But the anger slowly began to fade, replaced by a deep sadness, a sorrow that neither of you could fix.

He stepped closer to you, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry... I never wanted this for you. But I’ll always be here, [Name], even if you hate me for it.”

You looked at him one last time, the weight of everything you had said sinking in. And for the first time in a long time, you let the tears fall—not from anger, but from the overwhelming fear of it all. The fear of what your life had become, of how far you’d fallen, of the choices you had to make that never felt right.

Dae-ho stared at you as you quietly wept, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. Without a second thought, he reached out, pulling you into his arms. He wrapped you in the comfort of his embrace, guiding your head to rest against his chest, your tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt.

He didn’t speak at first, just held you tightly, as if trying to shield you from the world, from everything that had happened, and everything you feared. His hand gently rubbed your back in slow, soothing circles, offering what comfort he could in that moment.

“I’m sorry… I know I can’t take away all the pain,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “But I’m here, [Name]. I won’t leave you. You don’t have to go through this alone anymore. Please... just let me be here for you.”

You clung to him, not knowing if you wanted him to fix everything, but just needing the solace, the warmth that came with knowing he was still here. Still trying. You didn’t know what the future held, or if you could ever truly forgive him for the past, but in that moment, you allowed yourself to feel something you hadn’t in so long—comfort, even if it was fleeting.

He tightened his hold on you, letting you cry, never pushing you away. “I’ll always be here. I promise.”

You didn’t know how long it had been, but eventually, the tears started to slow. The tightness in your chest eased just a little, and you found yourself breathing a bit easier. Dae-ho, still holding you gently, never let go. He simply let you rest against him, giving you space to process everything, even if that meant staying silent for the moment.

You looked at him, your chest heavy with everything you’d just let out. “I’m sorry too,” you murmured, voice low and shaky. “I... I didn’t mean to lash out like that. I was just... I don’t know. I was scared. I couldn’t—couldn’t bear the thought of losing everything. But I shouldn’t have said those things.”

Dae-ho shook his head softly, his fingers brushing your cheek again. “No... I deserved it. I made you carry too much, and I never gave you the chance to say how you really felt. I was so focused on my own guilt, I didn’t see how much I was hurting you.”

The weight of the words sank in, and you felt a tear slip down your cheek, though this one wasn’t filled with anger—it was filled with a sadness you hadn’t let yourself fully feel until now. “We both messed up,” you whispered, the ache in your heart growing.

Dae-ho’s gaze softened, his hand gently squeezing yours. “But I’ll try to make it right. I don’t know if I can, but I’ll keep trying, [Name]. I’ll stay by your side, no matter what.”

You took a shaky breath, finding comfort in the sincerity of his words. “I don’t know where we go from here, but... I can’t pretend like it’s all fine. I need time.”

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ll give you all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere. I’m just... sorry. For everything.”

The air between you was thick with unspoken apologies, regrets, and the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, you could both find a way to heal from this. You both had a long road ahead, a game to survive. But for now, the silence was no longer heavy with tension. Instead, it was filled with a quiet understanding, one that neither of you had expected to find, but one that was slowly, carefully beginning to piece things together.

"This time, the vote will begin with Player 001. Player 001, please cast your vote."

The moment the announcement was made, you felt a cold shiver run down your spine. Voting had begun. This time, you were going first—before Dae-ho. He stood beside you, his presence steady and calming, but there was an undeniable tension in the air. His hand brushed your back, the soothing gesture almost feeling out of place in this chaotic, life-or-death situation.

“Choose what you need,” Dae-ho whispered, his voice soft but full of sincerity. “Don’t worry about me. I won’t be mad.”

His words settled over you like a gentle blanket, but they couldn’t remove the weight of the decision you had to make. To survive, to keep moving forward, you knew you had to vote for O. You had to keep playing if you wanted a chance at surviving, but even as you stood in front of the voting machine, you felt a sickening sense of dread.

Was it really worth it? Pushing yourself, forcing the belief that survival was your only option, knowing the outside world would swallow you whole. What was the point of living if the only person who ever made you feel truly alive has always been Dae-ho? The thought echoed in your mind, and the walls of the room suddenly felt like they were closing in around you. Dae-ho had become your anchor in this madness—your reason for pushing through.

But now, you had to choose. You needed to choose for your own survival.

Your finger hovered over the button for O, but then you thought about everything you’d been through, everything you’d sacrificed already. At that moment, it was no longer just about survival. It was about the life you had left to live. You didn’t want to keep going without him.

X.

You slammed your hand down on the button, your choice made in an instant. The harsh reality of it stung as you tore off the patch you had placed on your jacket earlier, replacing it with a new one. As you made your way to the X side of the room, your heart felt heavy, but there was a strange sense of finality to it. You have made your decision.

You couldn’t help but look over at Dae-ho. The surprise on his face was so pure, so raw. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape, like a fish caught out of water, and the shock in his gaze hit you harder than you expected.

Despite the tension and the gravity of the moment, you found yourself quietly laughing at him, unable to hold it in. The absurdity of it all—of choosing to walk away from everything that had kept you going—made you want to laugh and cry at the same time. God, you felt like a fool. After your dramatic show earlier, how you had confidently claimed that you would continue voting O, ready to survive, ready to keep playing. Yet here you were, choosing X, choosing to stop. Choosing him.

Dae-ho just stood there for a moment, still processing, before going up the platform to vote. His footsteps were slow, deliberate, as if he were trying to piece together what had just happened. You couldn’t blame him. The moment was so surreal, so at odds with everything you’d said before. 

You watched him, heart hammering in your chest as he stood at the voting machine. His back was turned to you, but you could almost feel the confusion radiating off him. His hesitation was palpable, and you wondered if he understood. If he saw why you made the decision you did.

The sound of his vote pressing echoed in the silence, a soft click that seemed too loud for the room. He immediately walked to where you stood, his expression unreadable.

“I don’t get it,” he muttered. “Why... why did you choose X?”

The answer was too simple, too complicated, and maybe too painful to say out loud. Instead, you gave him a small smile, one that held so many unsaid things. “Dae-ho, I’ll always choose you.”

In the end, your vote didn’t matter. Since O won by a landslide, the next game was inevitable. But for the first time in days, or maybe even years, you found yourself smiling—a real, genuine smile—as you were introduced to Dae-ho’s little group. You exchanged pleasantries, introduced yourselves, and felt something warm stir inside you.

The following day came quickly, and with it, the next game. One moment, you were lying in bed, your mind running wild with the uncertainty of what was to come. Next, you were on a spinning platform, waiting for the music to stop. Your eyes immediately sought out Dae-ho, and when you met his gaze, he reached for your hand, gripping it tightly, as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly, a promise in his words. “I won’t let go.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I know.”

The rounds passed, too smoothly, almost disturbingly so. You all survived the first four rounds with ease.

But everything was about to change. 

7.

“Five women, and two men. Go!” Gi-hun’s commanding voice cut through the noise, demanding attention. Without hesitation, 007 shot his hand into the air. “I’ll go with my mother!” he announced, stepping forward. Gi-hun nodded, relieved to have a volunteer. He scanned the group again, waiting for the next person to step up.

Dae-ho raised his hand, his voice strong as he called out, “We’ll go!” He pulled you closer to him, offering a small smile that was laced with worry. His eyes betrayed his calm demeanor, revealing the weight of what was happening. The air around you both felt heavy with the uncertainty of the situation. Still, you clung to each other, walking together toward the door.

Your group of seven—007, 149, 120, 095, Jun-hee, you, and Dae-ho—ran toward the nearest empty room. The sound of your hurried footsteps echoed in the tense silence. But just as you were about to step inside, something caught your eye and made your heart drop.

Player 095, frail and struggling, was being shoved aside by a group of players. Seeing her so helpless, you couldn’t just stand by. Without thinking, you yanked your hand from Dae-ho’s grasp and rushed to her side.

Dae-ho’s heart skipped a beat the moment he felt the loss of your hand. Panic surged through him. Where did you go? He scanned the chaos around him, his eyes frantic as he searched for you in the crowded room. His heart tightened when he saw you helped 095 into the room, making sure she was safe. He could see the determination in your eyes as you ensured her well-being, but once it was your turn to come into the room, to rejoin him, disaster struck.

A group of four players, each desperately fighting for their own survival, barreled into you.

The impact was brutal. Your body was slammed to the ground with overwhelming force. Everything around you seemed to blur and slow down as you hit the floor, your breath knocked from your chest in a violent rush. A sharp wave of pain shot through your body—your limbs aching, your head spinning—but strangely, you couldn't feel it all at once. The shock of the fall seemed to disconnect you from your body, like you were floating in a painful haze.

In that split second, time seemed to stretch out. You felt a sudden sense of numbness as your body tried to process the damage, and your heart raced as you struggled to breathe. Your vision blurred, and for a moment, you feared that you wouldn’t be able to get up again. But then, the rush of adrenaline kicked in.

Determination surged through you like a lightning bolt. You couldn't afford to stay down. You had to survive.

You pushed yourself off the ground, ignoring the throbbing pain in your limbs, and scrambled to your feet. Gritting your teeth, you ran with every ounce of strength you had left, your focus fixed on the door. You had to get inside—it was the only chance left. The room was just a few feet away now, but each step felt like an eternity as you sprinted, your legs shaking with exertion and fear. Every part of you screamed for rest, but you couldn't stop. Not yet.

"[Name]! Let’s play Mingle!" Dae-ho’s voice rang out with excitement, pulling you out of your thoughts. You raised an eyebrow, already knowing his playful nature.

“With just the two of us?” you asked, teasing him. A grin tugged at your lips despite yourself, knowing that whatever he had planned would likely be a mix of fun and absurdity.

“Well...” Dae-ho scratched the back of his neck, pretending to think deeply, but the mischievous glint in his eyes gave him away. He was already scheming.

It was your third anniversary together, a day you both decided to celebrate in your usual style: by skipping class and spending it alone in your room. Both of you were still wearing your high school uniforms—uniforms that no longer felt like the serious attire they were supposed to be. The two of you had spent countless afternoons like this, laughing and simply enjoying each other's company, without a care in the world.

“I’ve got it!” Dae-ho suddenly exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he dashed to your bed. He scooped up a handful of stuffed toys with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Let’s use our children!” he declared, holding them up like he had just discovered the most brilliant idea.

You stared at him, your laughter bubbling up instantly. "Our children? Really, tiger?" you chuckled, wiping away the tears that had already begun to form from laughing too hard.

"Hey, don’t laugh! This is serious!" he protested, feigning offense, but you could see the twinkle in his eyes that told you he was only pretending to be upset. He adjusted the toys in his arms, a determined look on his face.

“Alright, fine,” you replied, still laughing but wiping your eyes. “Let’s play.” You were already game—who could resist when Dae-ho was this excited?

Dae-ho carefully arranged the toys in front of you both, giving each one a position with a level of care that made it clear he was taking this game very seriously. “Okay. For this round… Three!” he announced dramatically, holding his hands out in front of him like he was preparing to start a battle.

You didn’t even wait for him to finish before snatching up two of the nearest toys. His jaw dropped in mock betrayal, and he huffed loudly, feigning offense. "Not fair! You should partner with me. Always!" he said, acting like you had broken some sacred rule.

You stuck your tongue out at him, teasing. “Stop being a sore loser! I’m just playing by your rules.”

"Fine," he grumbled. He pouted dramatically, a little over-the-top for someone so competitive. He then scurried around the room, gathering two more toys to prepare for the next round.

The game continued in the same playful vein, with the toys being eliminated one by one. The room filled with the sound of laughter, teasing, and mock outrage as each round got more dramatic. The toys “lost” in ways that made no sense, their plush bodies being thrown to the side in exaggerated defeat.

"For this round,” Dae-ho said, his voice suddenly turning serious. “Two!” He gave you a look, as if to challenge you to keep up with him.

You smirked, ready to grab him this time. But before you could react, he swooped down and grabbed the last remaining toy, holding it close to his chest with a triumphant grin. “Hey!” you cried out in mock outrage, throwing your hands up.

"Sore loser!" he teased, clearly pleased with his victory.

You crossed your arms, pretending to sulk. “Whatever.” you muttered, rolling your eyes for effect.

Dae-ho chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. He set the toy down, then knelt in front of you. “Wait, wait, don’t be mad!” he said, holding the toy up to his face like a little puppet. He moved its tiny arms in a dramatic fashion, as if it was trying to “walk” toward you.

"Eomma! Please don’t be angry at Appa! Pleaseee!” he said in a high-pitched, exaggerated voice that made you burst out laughing.

Your faux anger crumbled immediately, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his antics. He was ridiculous—and that was one of the many reasons you loved him.

Still holding the toy, Dae-ho slowly lowered it from his face, a more tender look in his eyes. You hadn’t noticed at first, but there was a delicate necklace hanging from the toy’s tiny paw. Your breath hitched as he gently removed the necklace and held it out to you.

"Here," he said softly, his voice unexpectedly gentle. You could feel the warmth in his words as he looked at you with such sincerity. Without warning, he leaned forward and clasped the necklace around your neck. The touch of his fingers against your skin sent a shiver through you. "Happy anniversary, [Name]."

For a moment, your heart skipped a beat as the rush of emotion hit you unexpectedly. His gesture felt like everything—a simple, yet deeply meaningful way of showing how much he cared. You blinked back the sudden welling of emotion in your chest.

Before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his lips in gratitude. You then buried your face in his shoulder, hiding the emotions that threatened to spill over.

“Thank you.” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin.

Dae-ho chuckled softly, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, comforting hug. “Anything for you.”

In that moment, everything else faded away. There was just the two of you, wrapped in each other's warmth, sharing a quiet, simple happiness that felt bigger than any words could express. Time seemed to slow down, and you didn’t want to think about anything else.

As you pulled back, your laughter bubbled up again, light and carefree. You couldn’t resist teasing him once more. “You’re still a sore loser, though.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dae-ho replied, rolling his eyes but still grinning. “But you love me anyway.”

You smiled, your gaze softening as you looked at him with affection. “I do. Now help me with this necklace!”

Your hand stretched toward the door, the cold metal just within reach. 

Then everything went silent.

[jukeboxhound]

THE BAILIFF IN DOMESTIC VIOLENCE RESTRAINING ORDER COURT THIS MORNING TRIED TO FLIRT WITH ME

[houseofripley]

Save A Horse Ride A Cowgirl

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, Cunnilingus, Strap-On, Riding, Orgasm Denial, Fingering (for like 2 seconds. don’t blink), Light Degradation, Spanking, Backshots, Lil bit of a mommy kink.

WORD COUNT: 2,736

A/N: -panting and out of breath- honey! it took me 800 hours but your oneshot is finished!

seriously tho sorry for the mid! writers block was beating my ass during this for no reason

Survivor Series, the day the wrestling community waited months for. You were sat at the edge of the bed in your hotel room, staring into the loud TV, waiting for your girlfriend to make her appearance for her match against Zoey Stark. 

You were supposed to be there but of course Rhea’s magment had fucked up their dates, leaving you without a pass to the event.

It killed both of you knowing you wouldn’t be backstage to cheer on Rhea. 

Anytime a pay-per-view even came around you’d clear your entire schedule just to support and help Rhea prepare. She took such good care of you it was the least you could do. Although you couldn’t physically be at the arena you still flew out to Chicago to at least be able to spend a little bit of time with Rhea.

You were pulled away from your train of thought as Rhea’s music soon started blaring through the stadium, “And her opponent, representing The Judgment Day, she is the women's world champion, Rhea Ripley!” The announcer yelled out as Rhea made her entrance, wearing what was possibly the sexiest gear she has ever worn.

“Holy shit-” You mumbled to yourself, leaning forward trying to get a closer look. Rhea looked insane. Her hair was in a faux mohawk, stripes of eyeliner ran over her eyes in a lighting strike pattern, black lipstick was smudged onto her right cheek. 

Rhea’s eyes never broke contact with the camera lens as she made her way down the ramp, she knew you'd be right on the receiving end of her gaze.

Once Rhea made her way into the ring you were able to catch a good glimpse at her gear. She sported a black vest over a black and white plunge top that was split down the middle, her shorts following the same theme while her boots displayed a cow print. But the bread and butter of this outfit was the black assless chaps. 

This outfit had to have been the reason Rhea was so protective over her suitcase these past few days. 

You sat eagerly watching the match, which was short yet action packed. Rhea had thrown Zoey around like she was nothing the entire match, your mind couldn't help but wonder what it’d look like if Rhea had manhandled you in the same way.

Rhea had retained her title with ease, barely breaking a sweat during the length of her match. You were quick to pick up your phone and congratulate her,

Y: YOU DID IT LOVEEEE!!!! and you looked good as hell while doing it….

Rhea replied about ten minutes later with a full body mirror selfie to show off her look, this time with an addition of a black cowboy hat and her hair out of the faux mohawk.

R: thank you baby, my hair wouldn’t fit in my hat so we had to ditch that plan :/ 

Y:  god damn! ditch wrestling and become a cowboy! 

Y: it’s so unfair i don’t get to see you like that rn urghhh

R: i know baby, i promise i’ll make it up to you tonight. look, i gotta go do a few things, i’ll see you in an hour or two okay?

Y: you better…now shoo and don’t keep me waiting for you all night

You huffed as you dropped your phone down onto your lap. The wait for Rhea had officially begun. 

There was one match left before the main war games match. Knowing Rhea would make an appearance in that last match you decided to rile her up a bit beforehand. 

You made your way to your suitcase and began searching for the new lingerie set you had bought just days ago while Rhea was training. You pulled out a bra made of intricate lacing along with the matching crotchless panties and garter belt. 

Once you had slipped into the lace you stationed yourself in front of the mirror. You used your free hand to grope your breast as you snapped a photo and sent it to Rhea.

Y: excited to see mami on my screen.

R: naughty girl…

R: are you really trying to get yourself into trouble right now?

Y: well i just figured since mami sent me such a sexy pic earlier i’d return the favor. i can send another one if you'd like…

You didn’t give Rhea the opportunity to reply before you snapped another picture, this time slightly rotating to your side to catch the curvature of your ass.

Seen at 9:36 pm.

You stared at your phone waiting for her reply but attention was pulled away as you heard The Judgment Day being announced, Rhea was nowhere to be seen as they made their entrance. You pouted as you laid down in the bed, your knees slightly spread as you watched in anticipation for Rhea’s appearance.

After a long match, intense and still no reply Rhea finally arrived at the end of the match, she came barreling down the ramp, this time wearing her cowboy hat with Priest’s MITB briefcase clenched in her hands.

You quickly took the opportunity to send Rhea a picture of your hand resting in between your thighs as she paraded on the screen in front of you. 

Y: just remembered a quote, something about save a horse, ride a cowgirl…

Another waiting game began. As much as you loved seeing Rhea clearly flustered on the screen you couldn’t wait for her to get to the locker room and see the message you left for her.

After a failed cash-in and two surprise returns from Randy Orton and CM Punk the main event finally came to a close, meaning Rhea was finally able to return to her phone. You picked up your phone to view your previous message exchanges with Rhea.

A text bubble appeared, indicating Rhea was on the other side drafting up her response. You chewed down on your cheek eagerly watching your phone. 

The text bubble disappeared.

Seen at 10:24pm.

You whined to yourself, a wetness growing between your legs. You attempted to make multiple calls to Rhea, only for each and every one of them to be ignored. You slumped into the bed, giving up on making contact with the woman.

Just moments later a banner popped up at the top of your phone,

R: face down ass up. you have two minutes.

Rhea had finally given you the attention you were craving. You needed her touch badly, so you gladly obeyed her demands getting into position in the center of the bed. Your face sunk into your pillow while your bare cunt peeked through the gap of your crotchless panties as you took in the sensation of the crisp hotel air that kissed your wetness.

You soon heard the quiet unlatching of the door followed by shuffling fabric. You peeked over to see Rhea, in that damn cowboy hat, discarding her streetwear to reveal the gear you’d been fawning over all night.

Rhea’s gaze was fixed on your arching back as she crept her way towards you. 

“Such a little slut for me,” Rhea husked, her weight sinking onto the bed as you waved your ass in the air. She took a moment to admire the sight of your wet cunt glistening in the dimmed light. 

“Just the thought of Mami has you all worked up.” Rhea relished, her hands skimming over the delicate skin of your ass before dropping a slap down onto you, causing a muffled yelp to leave your mouth.

Rhea moved her pointer finger to your heat and began to trace the skin around your wetness. Her finger took its time inching towards your hole before being pushed into you at a painfully slow pace, making you whine out into your pillow“Mami, please.” 

“What a needy girl.” Rhea taunted, watching you squirm against her finger, “Such a wreck already...” She hummed in response to your whining when she pulled her finger out of you. 

Both Rhea’s hands took ahold of your ass cheeks giving them a squeeze before she brought her face just centimeters from your aching heat. Shivers snuck up your spine as her heavy breaths brushed against your wetness. Her lips wrapped around you, her tongue beginning to draw circles perimitering your clit.

Rhea then pulled back and spat onto your cunt causing a high pitched ‘fuck’ to leave your mouth. She hummed to herself in satisfaction while she took you back into her mouth. Her hands still clenched to your ass as she began devouring you, acting as if she was having her final meal. 

All you could do was cling to the bedsheets and cry out into your pillow as Rhea took as much of you as she could in her mouth, her tongue piercing reaching brand new places. Due to your current position the tip of Rhea’s nose was repeatedly brushing against your entrance, adding fuel to the fire that was burning inside you.

“Gonna cum, Mami!” You pulled your head up from your pillow and moaned out. 

You could feel Rhea scoff against you before prying herself off your cunt, “No you’re not,” She groused, withdrawing all touch from you. “Such a spoiled girl, thinking you get to cum after teasing me when I’m working.”

“Please Mami! I’ll do anything- Just touch me, let me cum.” You pleaded, turning your head to look back at her with scrunched brows.

“You can beg all you want…but we both know that you won't cum until I say so.” Rhea’s tone was smug as she stood up from the bed. “Now…stay there and don’t even think about moving.” She growled on, making her way into the bathroom before closing the door behind her. 

You humphed to yourself, letting your head fall down to your pillow. It took everything in you to restrain your hands from touching yourself, but you knew if Rhea ever caught you pleasuring yourself she would push you to your breaking point. 

Several minutes had passed, your orgasm that was once near had seemingly wandered off. Your eyes were focused on the bathroom door as the knob rotated and Rhea emerged. Her shorts had disappeared and been replaced with a black strap-on…yet her chaps were still on. The sight alone had you arching your back as she lurched towards you.

“Look at you…all ready for Mami’s cock.” She murmured, crawling up behind you. She spat onto the silicon and slowly began jerking herself off, spreading her saliva over the toy before prodding at your slick coated entrance.

“Mami-” You purred out as the tip of Rhea’s toy pressed into your needy hole. Your walls were soon engulfing the entirety of her length. 

You had little to no time to adjust to her girth before she started ripping into you, leaving you at a loss for words. One of her hands was clamped to your hip while the other delivered a sharp slap to your ass before grabbing a fistful of your hair. “This is what you wanted isn’t it-” She groaned out while your cunt pulsed around her toy. “Sending me pictures of you whoring around the room, you were just begging to be ruined.”

The only sounds leaving your mouth were jumbled vowels mixed in with moans, she had you completely unable to form a sentence. You were powerless as Rhea pulled you up by your arms, bringing your back to press against her chest. 

You threw your head back against her shoulder as her hand trailed down to your clit, massaging quick circles against your swollen bud while continuing her merciless strokes.

“Don’t even think about it.” She whispered as you squirmed against her, letting out constant whines. Her free hand reached to wrap around your throat as you began rolling your hips back against Rhea. “Already fucking yourself against Mami’s cock?” She harshly questioned, her fingers adding more pressure against your clit, forcing a scream to come from your mouth.

“Such a slut.” Rhea lowly stated, letting go of the hold she had on you before pushing you back down to the bed. Her thrusts came to a halt as you rocked yourself on her cock. Her hand dropped a bitter spank on your skin, signaling for you to quicken your pace.

Rhea allowed you to fuck yourself on her strap while she caught her breath and admired the view she had of you. But your motions were abruptly cut off by Rhea’s hands firmly gripping your hips. You whimpered as she pulled herself out of you, leaving you empty.

Rhea flipped you onto your back before pulling you to sit upright. “You wanna ride Mami’s cock don’t you,” Her hoarse voice spoke, her hand moving to place her hat onto your head. You nodded, looking up to her with needy eyes while shifting to sit on your knees. “Use your words, princess.” She warned as her fingers gripped your jaw, taking control over you.

“Please, I've been waiting all night, Mami.” You swallowed, your breath shaking in anticipation as your hips wiggled with excitement.

“That’s it, good girl.” She hummed in approval, dropping the grip she had on your jaw. She brought herself to the head of the bed, resting her back on the headboard. You crawled up to her lap and situated your entrance to hover over Rhea’s tip. 

Your hands clutched Rhea’s shoulders as you began sinking yourself onto her length while moaning her name. As your hips started gradually bouncing, Rhea’s hands found themselves resting against your waist.

Meanwhile the pairs of your lips collided into a sloppy kiss. You whined into Rhea’s mouth, the piercing on her tongue brushing against your lip as her hands trailed to cup your breasts. Your eyes were glued shut as swayed yourself up and down Rhea’s length.

The overwhelming sense of pleasure was already washing over you. The combination of Rhea’s lips wandering to your neck, her digits toying with your nipples, and her cock being swallowed by your insides had your stomach contracting. 

Your pace picked up in speed as you tightened yourself around Rhea’s girth. As you focused on the movements in your hips Rhea’s attention was centered around your neck and collarbones, working on scattering reddish-purple marks against your skin. 

“Please-Can’t hold on any longer.” You pleaded with the woman through whimpers, your nails beginning to sink deeper into her shoulders. 

Rhea pulled herself from your neck, her hands moved to force your hips all the way to the base of her length. “Just one more minute, can you do that for me?” She questioned, her hands guiding you to rock back and forth.

“Y-Yes Mami,” You whimpered out at the sensation of your clit rocking against the leather band at the base of Rhea’s strap.

As the end of the excruciating sixty seconds neared your motions got sloppier with each motion. Rhea was sure guests in the other rooms  could hear your moans but you didn’t care, your mind was only focusing on not cumming at the exact moment.

“Open your eyes, pretty girl.” Rhea’s accent was thick as she spoke. “I want you to look at me while you cum all over my cock.” She added on while her fingers softly danced around your jawline.

Your eyes darted open once you heard Rhea finally give you permission to release yourself. Your vision was blurred by tears as you stared into Rhea’s oceanic blues. “Fuck-Oh! Mami!” You had barely managed to choke out, just seconds away from your climax. 

“C’mon,” Was the last thing you hear Rhea egg on before your orgasm flooded over you, leaving you crying out moans. Rhea’s hands moved to stabilize your twitching and shaking lower half. Quiet praises left your girlfriend's mouth as she helped you come down from your high. Your swollen lips placed a gentle peck against Rhea’s cheek as insignificant tears fell from your eyes.

“You okay, Princess? I didn’t hurt you did I?” Rhea’s gaze softened while her hands hurried to cup your face. 

You shook your head, giving her a weak smile, “Mm-mm, just felt really good…” You quietly replied as your arms wrapped behind Rhea’s neck. You gave Rhea a gentle smooch as she carefully pulled you off her length, the once black strap was now covered with scattered strings of whiteness.

“Alright, let’s get you cleaned up, pretty girl.”

[luveline]

Jade, after the last zombie blurb I can’t stop thinking about like, r taking care of Steve’s knee. Poor boy does so much for everyone else and probably doesn’t think to take care of himself so r just wraps it for him or something. Feel free to use this as a prompt if you’d like, no pressure!!

thank you for the prompt beautiful, I thought it was a great idea!! steve zombie au — you wrap up Steve's injured knee and get ready to move out of your makeshift camp. tw for zombie apocalypse typical violence and gore

There's a misery in the air thick as coal dust. For five days now, you, Steve, and the rest of the survivors from The College have been holed up in an apartment building within the city that surrounds The Michigan–Indiana border. At first, you'd been scared that the raiders who ruined your community would follow the tracks and find you, but a handful of scouts doubled back to find the ruins of your community completely empty. Wrecked, but uninhabited. 

With no one to hide from, a new problem emerges. How are you going to feed this many mouths, support so many children who can't fend for themselves? 

You have to get back on the road. 

So people are packing up. You, amongst the injured, can only sit and watch, though your cuts and bruises get better everyday and this is more of a Steve-mandated bed rest than a necessary sit down. Meanwhile, Steve limps around on his hurting knee and pretends it doesn't hurt at all. You can see him across the room from you now, helping a young girl tie her borrowed shoes tightly. You'll be walking as far as you can tonight, which with little ones won't be very far, but to them will seem like miles and miles and miles. 

"How's that? Not too tight?" he asks, tying her laces.

"It's okay." 

"You need them nice and snug so you don't get blisters, I know it's not comfortable. You're being really brave, Debbie." 

"Is my dad coming home soon?" 

You're terrified for a moment that her dad is one of the people who didn't make it here with you, but luckily Steve must know who she means, and he says, "Any minute now, the river's not far. Do you want to come and sit with me and my girlfriend?" 

She nods to her left, where a book rests face down. "I'm okay. Thank you." 

"You're welcome. We're just over there if you change your mind, okay?" 

He points at you. Debbie and Steve notice you watching them, and you give them a friendly smile and wave. You know you don't look especially inviting. You have marks all over your arms, more on your legs though they're hidden by your pants, and your hair hasn't been taken care of in a week. Your wave falters, even as Steve waves back. 

You pull on the jacket you've been given and pull the hood over your hair before Steve gets back to you.

Steve sits down next to you and sighs.

"Ready to go?" he asks. 

"Yeah." It's not as if you have any possessions to pack. "Are you?" 

"For sure," he says, dropping his face into his hands. "No, god… I'm tired, I don't wanna walk. I wish we could stay here." 

"I know, I'm sorry." 

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and straightens up. You haven't had a whole lot to talk about with one another lately, but luckily love doesn't need a lot. Your hands meet like magnets and your fingers thread together, his palm rough as yours but pleasantly warm. 

You sit like that for a while. 

"Here, the boon you requested," Robin announces, dropping a little white parcel into your lap. "Did you guys need socks? Sarah said she'd swap me four whole pairs for one of my hoodies." 

Robin being willing to swap one of her hoodies for socks makes you wanna cry. You smile at her. 

"We don't need any socks. You need to stop trading your things away," Steve says. 

"I know you'll find me another one." She looks between you both and bites her lip, hands moving up to her hair. She scratches through it. "Maybe we could stay here tonight, catch up with everyone else tomorrow," she suggests, eyeing you both thoughtfully.

"No," Steve says, kind but firm. "We're ready to go." 

"Okay. Well, I'm gonna go see if Chloe needs a hand with baby Ada," Robin says. She makes a heart with her hand and pushes it down at you. You make one back. 

"She doesn't even like babies," Steve says as she leaves. 

"She's amazing. Okay, take your pants off handsome." 

Steve blinks at you. "Excuse me?" 

You hold the bandage Robin brought you between your index and middle finger. "Time to wrap you up." 

"I'm not cut." 

"I know, but we're gonna be walking, and your knee still hurts. The compression will help." 

Steve knows you're right, even if he isn't eager to be looked after. You shake the blanket over his lap and he slides out of his pants, baring his purpled knee to you unhappily. 

"The bruise is worse," you murmur, unwrapping the bandage from itself in looser circles around your hand. "But it doesn't look swollen anymore. How does it feel?" 

"I was shit scared it was fucked forever, but it was just sprained. It's definitely getting better," he confesses. 

"And if it was fucked?" you ask. He told you it didn't even hurt. "Were you going to pretend forever?" 

"As long as a I could." 

You rub your thumb over his kneecap and wince at his wincing. "Lame… This is gonna hurt, I'm sorry, but not for long." 

"How d'you know it won't make it worse?"

"According to Sarah's copy of Field Medicine for Injury and Disease, it won't. I'm gonna start on top so it doesn't chafe while we walk, and I'm going to pull it really tight, so tell me if it doesn't feel right." 

"Can I ask you something?" Steve says severely. "Who the fuck is Sarah?" 

You wrap his knee. One round of white bandages at a time with a continued pressure, your fingers as gentle as they can be over the stain of his contusion. He doesn't make a sound the whole time, though you know it aches. 

"Did Robin give you her last quarter?" you ask. 

"What, the oxycontin? No, I think she gave it to Jonathan. His burn is scabbing over."

"Then you have nerves of steel." You want to call him my love, or my boy, but you're not often like that, and not in front of so many people. While nobody's watching, you lean down and kiss his knee. You're embarrassed as soon as you've done it but you can't take it back; you sit up and finish tucking in the end. 

Steve takes your face into his hand unexpectedly. 

He might call you honey, or baby, but he's quiet. You miss him so much and he's right here —you don't need The College if he's with you, but you'll miss your bedroom, because there he'd talk for hours about whatever he wanted. You'd give anything to be back there even for a second listening to him re-explain the plot of Fast Times, or try to convince you that cheese didn't even taste that good anyways so don't bother missing it. 

But you're here, and he's gonna be fine. One day he's gonna feel like chatting his nonsense again and you'll be there to listen. Until then, you'll do your best to take care of him.

"Thanks," he says, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. 

He looks so pretty. Brown eyes, the lingering purple and yellow of the shiner he suffered nearly invisible under the dark shadows beneath them. His hair is limp and a tiny bit longer than he prefers to have it, kissing his neck on both sides. He doesn't look clean, and it doesn't matter. 

"You're welcome. Now put your pants back on, Steve. We have places to be soon." 

He squeezes your cheek. "I don't think I can stand up." 

You help him back into his pants, the both of you laughing, and shuffle on your butt so you can sit hip to hip with him, your arm curled behind the small of his back. 

"Put your head on my shoulder, please," you say. 

Steve complies. 

You smile to yourself when he starts to talk quietly, "Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I went to Switzerland? Skiing?" 

"No," you murmur back. "What happened?" 

"I fell on my face. So, I was seventeen, and my mom…" 

—

if you’re reading this, thank you so much! I know some of you are dedicated readers of the zombie au and it warms my heart completely, it makes writing for them so so rewarding and I couldn’t be more grateful <3 if you have any requests for them let me know if you’d like to! but thank you again either way!

[megamindsecretlair]

Be My Little Darling - Chapter 10

Chapter 9 Chapter 11

Pairing: Loki x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Some smut. ANGST. PIV, dirty talk, use of magic, and heavy mentions of survivor's guilt, negative self-talk, violence. Brief mention of suicidal ideation in a joking manner (It's never funny, please seek help), Soft Loki, bit of fluff and cute domestic things.

Summary: Loki is the exclusive owner of the hottest club in New Asgard. Dubbed the Nine Realms, each of the nine rooms represent a different realm. You are his second in command, working the floors and ensuring everyone is having fun. Loki is nothing if not a man on a mission to not only win your heart but also make some headway about this saboteur.

Word Count: 4,789k

Masterlist

A/N: I miss the Loki show already! I missed you lovelies! Something about this man just eats me alive. I can't believe we're halfway there to the end! Thank you so much for continuing to ride for this series! Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I block ageless blogs!

Taglist: @cantstayawaycani @braverthanthenewworld @monaeesstuff @chaos-4baby @dayjlovesromance @soft-persephone @mybonafidefeelings @nerdieforpedro @browngirldominion

“Are you alright, Darling?” 

He knew fuck well you were not alright. True to his word, there was plenty more to come. Loki had stamina for days, waking you up periodically through the night so he could thrust back into you and deliver more orgasms. 

You moaned as he laid you on your left side, facing a mirror you hadn’t known was there. It figured that he’d have a full length mirror right next to the bed, the vain prick. 

He slipped back in and pressed his chest to your back. His face was near your ear so you heard every moan and sigh that escaped his beautiful mouth. “Look at us, Darling,” Loki moaned.

You opened your eyes and looked at the picture of you two. Loki was pressed into you, your right leg held up by his hand and pulled open for him to move inside of you. He had slowed his strokes so that they were deep and full. You felt every glide and every inch of him. 

“Gods,” you moaned. Your pleasure had been driven to heights you only read about. He kept you in a perpetual state of bliss. You almost didn’t mind the lack of sleep. If you were being awakened for dick, could you really complain? 

“Right here, Darling,” Loki said. He kissed your cheek and looked at your face in the mirror. You looked as well. You were thoroughly fucked out. Your hair was a mess, deep lines on your skin from the pillows and sheets. Your lips were swollen from all of his kisses. You were marked and claimed by him.

Your eyes traveled to him. His hair was all over the place, slicked back too many times in his desperate need to keep it from his face. You left deep, red welts on his shoulders and back from the times that he hit your G-spot and you were unprepared. 

After each time, he whispered, “one more”, and you were unable to form a denial. You wanted to please him. You wanted that look on his face. The face he was making now. As if in between your thighs was the closest to Valhalla he’ll get for now.

The wet squelches from your combined fucking was still like sweet music to your ears. It drove your arousal higher, pushed you to sink onto his dick hungrily. Greedily. Your pleasure built in your belly, cresting higher and higher. You raced after it, pulling it within your grasp.

“Oh Loki, Loki,” you moaned as the wave moved over you. You moaned his name over and over as your body jerked and twisted. 

Loki kissed your neck and cheek. He moaned your real name as he released himself inside of you for the hundredth time that night. Loki placed soft kisses to your shoulder and back as he softened and pulled himself out of you.

He dropped down onto the bed, out of breath and wrung out. You couldn’t move an inch. You panted and heaved as you looked at yourself post orgasm. You felt beautiful and sinful. You felt seen in ways you hadn’t for the past five years. He helped you do that. But it was still you. 

The parts of you that you hid deep down inside were still there. You weren’t broken. It wasn’t too late to become that woman again. You smiled tiredly at your reflection. Earth may not be Asgard, but Asgard had always been its people. And you were still here.

A warm cloth between your legs made you yelp. You were incredibly sensitive. One more fucking round and you’d simply die. Loki chuckled and kissed you while he cleaned you up. He toyed with you, going extra slow around your clit. You groaned.

“No more, please,” you begged.

Loki chuckled again and kissed your cheek. “I had five years to make up for, Darling,” he said.

“Liar. You didn’t start the club until a year after we arrived,” you said.

“And I wanted you before even then,” he said.

That did give you enough strength to roll over and face him. He faced you, head resting on his elbow, as he looked you in the eyes. 

“Bullshit,” you said. 

“All these years and you still don’t think I’m capable of the truth,” he said and shook his head. His finger idly traced patterns across your belly and thighs. You watched him closely to make sure he wasn’t trying to get you going again. Seriously, you couldn’t.

“You’re capable when it suits you,” you said.

“And it suits me now. You were in town, shopping, and I was securing my permits. I left the building and you were across the street, talking to the baker. You wore…a blue dress. Sandals. Hair pulled up and I thought you were the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen,” he said. 

You stared at him. You thought back to the dozens of times you went to the baker. He was Asgardian and made the pastries you liked. You were working a dead end job you hated, wishing for something more. The pastries were a luxury you really couldn’t afford but you couldn’t resist. 

“You remember that?” You asked. You usually had more situational awareness. Loki held a presence unlike any other. You’d be able to pick him out of a thousand clones. But you hadn’t realized he was on the street.

You assumed the princes were off doing…whatever princes did when there was no throne to rule from. Meetings, logistics, and the like. 

“How could I not?” He asked. “I remembered that the only thing I wanted to do was talk to you. But you looked so sad. And the pastries brought you such comfort. I didn’t want to interrupt,” he said.

Now, you sat up and turned towards him. His hand moved down to your hip, still tracing patterns. “Since when do you care about interrupting?” 

Loki smiled. “The way you speak about me, I’d think I was a monster,” he said with a cheeky wink. 

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not getting free compliments, so stop,” you said.

He grinned. “I stood there and looked at you. When you left, the sadness returned. I figured we were all still recovering from Thanos, so the last thing you needed was a failed prince to bother you,” he said.

You narrowed your eyes at him. You rubbed your head. There was just…no way that he saw you when you hadn’t known he was there. It bordered on stalking the way you would yearn for any glimpse of him every time you got to attend a feast at the palace. The way you would crane your neck and watch, transfixed, as he strolled in with shorter hair and his brother. 

He was always smiling, always grinning, always moving around without a care in the world. You used to pray to the gods that he’d look your way just once and see you. He never did of course. Too busy looking at Thor. Everyone always did. 

“So when I came in for the job and you hired me on the spot?” 

“I wasn’t going to pass up a chance to see you every day,” he said. 

“Loki! Did I get it because I was qualified or you wanted some ass?” You asked. You smacked his shoulder. He moved back as if you put any real weight behind it. He grinned at you.

“Because you were qualified. I am a reputable business owner and wanting a chance at that sweet, sexy pussy of yours would be against policy,” he said. Straight face and everything. 

You were probably going to have to see a doctor from all the squinting you were doing. This was insane. But…you chose to believe him. He could come up with a better lie than that. So…it had to be the truth. He did see you and wanted you way before you thought. 

Heat pulsed through you and you sank down onto the bed, feeling giddy. This was so silly. It was like you had a crush all over again. But you probably never really grew out of it where he was concerned. 

“Okay, I choose to believe you,” you said.

He leaned down and kissed your breast. “I’m glad,” he said.

“Don’t you start!” You said, moving away from him. He scooted closer. 

“I seem to recall you agreeing that I could have you whenever and wherever?” 

You were on the edge of the bed and there was no more room left to run. Loki crowded your personal space and kissed you, at his leisure, his hand back on your hip.

“That was the heat of the moment, can’t stand up in human court,” you murmured as he kissed along your jaw.

He nipped at your jaw and you hissed from the bite of pain. “Verbal contracts are still binding, Darling. You know that,” he said.

“Fine, twist my arm,” you said. 

Loki grinned. “I will have mercy just this once. But make no mistake. I will make good on my promises,” he said.

“Threats more like it,” you said. You tried to give him a stern look. But he was so damn cute laying there with his dark hair, in his home that smelled uniquely like him. You were truly in trouble here.

“Is it still a threat if I threaten you with pleasure?” He asked.

“How are you still capable of moving? I want to sleep for a week,” you said. Even now as you spoke and moved, you were thoroughly sore. The places that he gripped you were raw with his fingerprints. The places that he suckled and kissed you were patches of soreness. Your pussy still throbbed from all the pleasure wrung out of you. It was a miracle you were still awake.

“I have longed for this, Darling. I do not wish to see it end so soon,” he said. He didn’t look at you as he said it. Instead, his eyes were focused on caressing your hip. 

“Hey,” you said. You nudged him until he dragged his eyes from your hip. “No more running. I want this and I want you,” you said.

Loki smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners. This man really had no idea, did he? He could spin a thousand tales and you’d still want him. Crave him. Lo-like him. You bit your lip at that mental slip. 

“What’s wrong?” Loki asked.

You kissed him instead of answering. You ran your tongue across his lips. He moaned as his hand clutched your hip. “Thought you were done?” 

“Can’t I kiss you without it turning to more?” You asked.

“Never,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes. Your stomach chose that moment to rumble. Loudly. You buried your face in his shoulder with a groan. He only laughed. 

“I have been a poor host. I will make something for us,” he said. He kissed your head and ordered you to stay there while he left the room. You watched his ass as he moved about flawlessly. You couldn’t, you simply couldn’t, but damn if he didn’t make you want to hop back on his dick and ride him until sunrise.

You were almost asleep when he entered the room carrying a tray. On it, there was french toast, bacon, and eggs. “You didn’t have to make all of this!” 

“Yes, I did,” he said. He placed the tray on the bed and you shared the meal, talking about nothing and everything. After, you relaxed against the bed and talked some more until you were both too tired to keep moving your jaws. If only you could communicate by mind. 

You both climbed under the covers and you fell asleep in his warm embrace, content for the first time in ages.

In the morning, you slowly awoke to soft light coming through his curtains. Loki sighed and pulled you closer. You smiled and snuggled into him. 

“Careful, Darling,” he said.

Holy hell, if you thought his voice was sexy before? His sleep-rough voice would melt your panties if he hadn’t torn them off of you. While you wanted to tease him, you also knew that you couldn’t follow through. So you settled down and kissed his arm around you.

“Good morning, Loki,” you said sweetly.

“Good morning, Darling,” he said with a soft chuckle. He kissed the back of your head.

“Oh no,” you said. Dread pooled in your gut as you thought about the new day and what it meant. What the hell were you going to tell your crew? You could hear Honey’s laughter now. 

“What is it?” He asked.

“What are we going to tell everyone?” You asked.

“We can say however much you want or how little you want. But they will know you’re mine,” he said. He tightened his grip around your middle to emphasize his point. You rolled your eyes even though you squealed on the inside.

“Loki, be serious. What are you gonna do? Fuck me with the door open again?” 

“If I please,” he said. You could hear the grin in his voice and you rolled your eyes again. He really was incorrigible. 

“Loki…” You groaned. He didn’t understand. The rules for him were different from the rules for you. He was a god and could do damn well whatever he pleased. You on the other hand, people would only assume what you asked last night. Did you get the job on your knees or on your back? 

“It matters not. We’re not going in today anyway,” Loki said. 

You rolled over and he peeked at you. “We’re going to into town to speak with the King. She might know who we’re dealing with.”

“Why would she know?” You asked. 

“I’ve been looking at the cards left behind by our saboteur. Only two, same card stock. Magically created. The King was the foremost expert in Asgardian security, she might shed some light.” 

You lifted an eyebrow at him. “Nice to see you were resting while we sorted out the rooms,” you said.

He smiled and shrugged. “Seize the day. We could make a day of it,” he said.

“Loki, are you asking me on a date?” You asked.

“No. You’ll know when I’m asking you on a date. But I would like your company on this errand,” he said. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes to the ceiling. He was so damn infuriating. And yet…

“How am I supposed to get home without any clothes?” You asked.

Loki grinned and pulled back the covers to look at your naked body. His blue eyes got wider, taking you all in. You squirmed beneath his perusal. 

“Is it my fault you showed up without any clothes?” 

“I wasn’t expecting you to rip them off of me,” you said.

“You offer me a present and I don’t get to unwrap it? That hardly seems fair,” he said. He pouted and you slapped his shoulder with a laugh. 

“I’m being serious, Loki,” you said.

“As am I. Besides, can’t you conjure clothes?” Loki asked.

“What? No. I can only conjure weapons,” you said.

He looked at you and frowned. “Have you ever tried?” 

You opened your mouth to tell him of course you had, but…well, shit, have you? You had an affinity for weapons and that was all you ever knew. It didn’t occur to you to try different constructs. 

“I can’t remember,” you said.

“While we’re on about it, is that the only magic you know how to do? Are you more in-line with my power?” 

You scooted closer and planted a kiss on his cheek. “No one can compare to the oh so powerful, oh so dreadful, the charming and devilishly handsome god, Loki,” you said. You peppered kisses in between your words and Loki’s face lit up with delight. You could get used to him like this. Happy and open and carefree. You really liked seeing this side of him. 

“Flattery gets you everywhere, Darling. But I think we should make some time to see what you can do,” he said.

You shrugged. Why not? 

“In the meantime…” Loki got out of bed and held his hand out to you. He pulled you into the bathroom where he pleaded for, “just one more”, and you couldn’t resist him. Afterwards, he conjured a brand new black suit for him and a black plaid dress for you, with green and gold lines intersecting. He even conjured you up some kick ass boots that gave you some height but still nowhere near him.

He looked over your outfit with a manic gleam in his eyes. “Down boy!” 

He pouted as you left his place and walked towards your car. You offered to drive you into town and he refused. Something about being a proper host. Instead, he had his own car. A sleek truck that was too tall for you to climb into. He helped you into the passenger seat and then soon, you were on your way into town.

Once in town, he parked on the outskirts and you walked towards the main City building. People were bustling about doing their shopping. Tourists were in town sharing jokes and ales with the local Asgardians. It was…sweet to see everyone hanging out and talking and getting along. You missed this.

“Come along, Darling,” Loki said. He kept his hands in his pockets as you walked towards the City building. His shoulders hunched forward. Guess there will be no holding hands today. Was he the holding hands type? You weren’t sure. Why did you want to hold his hand anyway? It was stupid and childish.

You clenched your hands into fists and walked beside him. He held the door for you as you went inside. The atmosphere inside the building was homey and comfortable. A far cry from the glitz and glamor of the palace back home.

You looked towards Loki. Maybe that was his problem. Maybe he missed Asgard as much as everyone else. Except, he had no one to tell that to. He did so much shit trying to bring it down, embarrass Odin or Thor, or cause mischief. Maybe he thinks people won’t want to hear how he misses it.

Loki made a beeline towards the main hall. Inside, aides rushed to and fro as King Valkyrie sat at the head of the table. She looked positively miserable. 

She was gorgeous as always. Flawless skin, locs twisted up in a lazy hairdo, and a smart suit to rival Loki’s black one. He made his look classy and debonaire. She made hers look painted on, effortless, and sexy. 

She looked up as the brown uniform doors closed behind you. She smirked at you but her eyes turned icy towards Loki. 

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Her smooth voice called out. 

Loki smiled and opened his arms. The picture of innocence. Right. Like cats are innocent. 

“We have a dilemma that I was hoping you could help with,” Loki said.

“Is the club not keeping you busy enough as is?” King Valkyrie asked.

Gods, she was gorgeous. You were nervous as hell. On Asgard, you were lucky to attend a few feasts. You never would have gotten that close to the family, let alone Odin himself. To be this close to King Valkyrie was nerve wracking.

Loki produced the two cards with “Remember” and “Vengeance” written on it. The King stood up and took the cards from his hand. She turned them over and looked at Loki.

“What of it?” She asked.

“Do you recognize anything about it? Anything at all? There’s a…saboteur at the club,” Loki admitted. 

The King walked around the open space, light from the windows hitting her coral skin. She studied the two cards as she moved around, humming to herself. “A saboteur? You say?” She asked.

She walked closer to you and looked at you. “What do you think?” 

Your words died in your throat. You looked towards Loki who nodded. Like that fucking did anything. You took a deep breath. “Causing a lot of issues for us. It’s annoying. No one’s gotten hurt that much. But enchanting our customers, one of our performers’ legs went through the floor, and switched our rooms around,” you explained.

“Heavy magic involved. All to mess with…you,” the King turned towards Loki and pointed. 

“We know that already. But why the cards? My enemies are usually more direct,” Loki said.

“Now that you mention it, I’ve heard some of the locals talk about legends around here. But those are just stories,” King Valkyrie said. She moved back towards the windows and looked at the cards.

“What kind of legends?” Loki asked.

“Just stories, I’m sure.”

Loki smiled and rolled his neck. “My King, I am very desperate to catch this person.” 

King Valkyrie looked at you and made a surprised face. Yeah, you thought you���d drop dead before you heard those words from his lips. You supposed this was getting to Loki more than he let on. Once you had him to yourself again, you were going to make him talk to you. Keeping all this shit bottled up was going to eat him alive.

“Fine,” King Valkyrie said. She hopped onto the table and faced them. “There is a legend around here of a disfigured man who used to live up on the hill where the club now resides. The locals treated him as you would expect, horribly. They harassed the poor man until he went insane. They wouldn’t let him sleep. Kids would jangle chains outside his bedroom windows at night.”

As she spoke, you swore the clouds chose that exact moment to blot out the sun. The room turned a shade darker. Shadows played across King Valkyrie’s features. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say she had magic of her own. 

“You haven’t heard the chains yet, have you?” She asked.

You and Loki looked at each other and then at her. You shook your heads at the same time. 

“Good, that’s good. Well, you see, more bad things happened to this man until he vowed to take revenge on every living descendant who dared bother him. He prayed to the gods to make him as strong as Odin, as clever as Loki, and as bold as Thor,” she continued.

You stepped forward, engrossed in the story. That poor man. You couldn’t imagine being hounded like that. Your heart ached for him.

“I have no beef with a disfigured man from human history,” Loki said.

“Your club sits on his land. You mock him with your den of sin. His home. You flaunt your pretty boy looks and lure unsuspecting tourists to your club,” King Valkyrie said and shrugged. “Remember? Vengeance?” She waved the cards around.

Loki sighed and approached her, taking the cards out of her hands. “What’s the real story?” 

King Valkyrie broke into laughter and clapped her hands. “How did you know?” 

You gasped and looked towards the King. You quickly shut your mouth and made your face blank. You would not admit to anyone that you fell for her story. Hey, she was a freakin’ Valkyrie who told a good story. You’d believe her too.

“I am the God of Mischief,” Loki said. He tucked the cards into his coat pocket. 

King Valkyrie sighed. “Fine. It’s so dreadfully boring here. For the cards, I am stumped, same as you. Never came across the like. You might want to speak to Heimdall,” King Valkyrie said.

Loki hissed and rolled his eyes. You raised an eyebrow at him in silent questioning.

“Loki thinks Heimdall is still pissed about slipping his gaze,” the King supplied.

“Why am I not surprised,” you muttered. Loki shrugged with a smirk. You had no idea what you were going to do with this man. You walked over to him, careful to keep your distance, and looked him in the eye.

“Are we not desperate? What can Heimdall do now?” You asked.

“Do not underestimate him,” Loki said. 

Okay, you two definitely needed to sit down somewhere and discuss whatever the hell you’re missing there. You needed all of the gossip, like right now. You gave Loki a pointed look and he sighed.

“Fine, fine. Let’s go, Darling,” Loki said.

“Hey, come back and visit anytime. Bring a drink next time! Or a bloody sword to end my life,” King Valkyrie called after you.

You turned back and waved to the King and then felt incredibly stupid for doing so. You inwardly groaned. She’d never invite you back if you continued to do weird shit.

Loki stopped outside of the City building, frozen to the spot. You nudged him. He stared off into the distance, barely acknowledging your presence.

“Loki? What is it?” You asked.

Loki’s jaw clenched, continuing to stare off. You followed his line of sight, squinting into the sun. Some distance away, at a pub, Thor was pushed out of the doorway. He was laughing with someone, slapping the smaller man on the back. Each slap of his massive paw caused the man to bowl forward.

You hissed as you took in the state of your prince. He was chubby, wearing…checkered pajama pants that looked dirty and a sweat-stained sweatshirt. His once golden hair was now flaxen like wheat, thick beard unkempt and matted. 

“Oh,” you sighed. You hadn’t thought…you had no idea…

You looked towards Loki. He stared at his brother across the way, guilt etched into his features. Again, you felt out of the loop but that was for another time. You wrapped your hand around Loki’s arm. You nudged him.

“Hey,” you said softly. Loki shook himself as if emerging from a trance. He smiled at you.

“Come, we’ll see Heimdall tomorrow,” he said. He put his head down and started walking forward. You stopped him and moved until you could look at his face.

“Don’t you want to say hi to your brother?” You asked.

“Stay out of it, Darling,” Loki said. 

“But, he’s right there. Clearly hurting. How long has he been like this?” You asked.

“Leave it,” Loki said.

“But shouldn’t we help him? Has he talked to anyone–”

“I said, drop it, Darling! You’ve no idea what you’re talking about. None! He’s…fine. He’s grieving like the rest of us,” Loki snapped.

You took a step back from the vehemence in Loki’s sapphire eyes. “Darling–”

You lifted a hand. “I’ve tolerated a lot of shit from you, Loki. But you don’t ever speak to me like that.” 

“I’m sorry–” 

You lifted another hand. “I’ll find my own way home,” you said. 

“Please,” he said. He called your name and you turned away from him. You will not let this man see more of your tears. You knew on a rational level that he was not mad at you. It wasn’t personal. But that was no excuse to talk to you like that. You were asking an innocent question.

You looked toward Thor once more. He had a bottle of ale in his hand and he was stumbling down the road. The town drunk. You won’t presume to know what happened there or why he was like this now. It’s not like you two were friends or that you had checked up on him these past five years.

You’d asked about him plenty of times, since Loki always seemed so down after going into town. You assumed that sometimes he saw his brother. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he spent these past five years hiding like everyone else. Trying to pick up the pieces left behind in Thanos’ wake. 

What did you know? Besides, Loki needed to cool down and you did not want to be around him right now. You were liable to truly hurt his feelings. Your own anger simmered. One night of bliss and it turned into such a shit show. 

You mentally kicked yourself. You knew sleeping with him was a mistake. Sex only ever complicated things and it was bullshit. Thinking with your pussy rather than your head. You kept your head down for five fucking years and threw it all away, for what? For one night of sexual gratification? 

Ugh. You were disgusted with yourself. You crossed your arms and walked down the road. You were aware of Loki’s gaze on you but you refused to turn around. You didn’t want to deal with this shit. You didn’t ask for it. And you certainly didn’t ask to babysit Loki’s hangups. 

You walked home more confused and angry than you knew what to do with. How could you face him now? How did you begin to fix this? Whatever the hell this was?

Masterlist | Chapter 9 | Chapter 11

[wannab-urs]

Carry Me

This is a request fill for @atinylittlepain <3

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x student therapist!reader

Summary: You’re overwhelmed. Being a student at a very rigorous university and interning as a therapist for the local DV clinic is all getting to be too much. You’re on the verge of a nervous breakdown for real, but Dieter is there to lighten some of the burden.

Warnings/Content: hurt/comfort, a rare non smut fic, general anxiety and frustration about being a student therapist, Dieter being kind of an idiot, brief mention of SA and DV (literally just the acronyms, no description whatsoever), Dieter is able to pick you up, Dieter calls you Shrink and baby, you and Dieter are roughly the same age, brief mention of oral f!receiving, no use of Y/N, WC: ~1200

Notes: Thank you so much to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @theywhowriteandknowthings for the beta read <3 Love y'all bunches. I was so excited to write this fic AHHH

Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

But you can carry me / I’m not heavy / I’ll grow extra arms / To hold onto your body Dig my fingernails / Into your shoulder / And you’re so steady /And you don’t tip over - Carry Me by Crooks and Nannies

You get home and look up at the stairs which have quite possibly never felt so daunting as they do right now. You had class from 8 this morning until noon, a 30 minute break in which you scarfed down some trail mix you found in your car and drove to the clinic, and then an extremely emotionally draining 4 hours of leading group SA and DV survivor therapy sessions followed by another 2 hours of paperwork. 

So now, roughly 12 hours after you left your apartment, you’re standing at the bottom of your stairs, feeling weighed down by your bag and by your life in general and dreading what you might find at the top. 

When you finally do make it upstairs, slip the key into the lock, push the door open, you’re desperately (delusionally) hoping to find a clean apartment. Maybe he cooked you dinner? Maybe he cleaned the living room and lit a candle? Maybe the bed is made and the laundry is put away? 

Of fucking course not. 

Dieter is sitting upside down on the couch, feet in the air and his head dangling off the cushion. He’s got a paintbrush in his teeth and a canvas propped against the coffee table. There’s a pile of laundry in the corner by the bed, dishes stacked precariously in the sink… 

“Dieter. What the fuck are you doing?” He drops the paintbrush from his teeth and you watch it clatter across the hardwood. Add paint on the floor to the pile of bullshit being heaped onto you today. 

“Painting!” He looks positively gleeful for a moment, but then he takes in your sagging shoulders, your wobbling lip, the way your eyes glint with tears. “Shrink? Baby, you okay?” Dieter does a surprisingly agile maneuver, rolling off the couch and onto his feet just as your chest starts heaving and the tears start to spill over. 

He crosses the room quickly, takes your bag and sets it on the floor of the entryway, wraps his big arms around you and pulls you into his chest. You crumple into him, letting him finally take your weight. He buries his nose in your hair, cradles your head to his chest and supports you with an arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Broken sobs and gasps for air are all you can manage, but he doesn’t ask you questions. He just whispers that everything is going to be okay, that he loves you, that you’re so strong. 

After a few minutes, you’re more sniffling than sobbing, and he grabs your face in his big hands. He swipes away a few tears, presses a kiss to your lips. You squirm away “Dieter I’m all snotty!”

“I don’t care, Shrink,” he kisses your tear streaked cheeks, your now fluttering eyelids, your forehead, then he sweeps you off your feet, picking you up bridal style. You shriek and stifle a giggle. 

“Oh my god, Dee, put me down,” you yell, trying to contain your giggles. 

“Sure thing, baby!” He dumps you on the couch, grabs his fluffy brown coat off the table and wraps it around your shoulders, sinks to his knees and pulls your sneakers off for you. He goes to the bed and pulls your favorite blanket from the tangled pile and tosses that over you too. “Here’s what’s gonna happen.”

“Di-”

“Nope, you’re listening to me, for once.” You roll your eyes and throw your head back into the soft velvet cushion of the couch. “I’m gonna make you a cup of tea, okay? You’re gonna drink the tea and you’re gonna make a list.” 

“A list?” You arch your eyebrow at him, a skeptical look in your eye.

“A list. You’re gonna write down everything you need to do for school AND everything you want to do this week. When you finish that, you’re gonna make a list of ways you can cut your workload. Can you do that for me, shrink?” You start to nod, but then you catch a glimpse of the laundry. 

“Dee the house–”

“Nope! That’s my problem, okay? Focus on your list. Tell me when you’re done.” He drops another kiss on top of your head and gets your bag for you, laying it on the table before running off to the kitchen. 

You pull out your journal and start making his stupid list and a few minutes in, he brings you tea, just the way you like it and in your favorite mug. He puts on a record at low volume and you can hear the water running in the sink. Dieter Bravo is doing the dishes. You never thought you’d see the day. 

You finish the first list of all the things you need to do for school and add Write and Watch a movie to the bottom for the things you would do if you ever had the fucking time. Dieter appears in front of you, reading your list upside down. 

“Knew you could do it, shrinky dink.” 

“Please stop calling me that.” 

“No. Now what can you do to reduce your workload?” He heads over to the bed and starts making it while you talk. 

“I could take this class as pass/fail instead of for a grade…” Your face pulls into a grimace at the thought.

“And why do you sound like that makes you want to die a little?” He says as he wrangles the sheet back onto the bed. 

“Because it feels like failing. Or cheating? I don’t know, D! Gina will hate me for it.” You toss your journal onto the coffee table and burrow into Dieter’s coat a little more. 

“Ok first of all, that woman adores you, but also,” he trails off as he focuses on stuffing a pillow back into its case. He sleeps like a tornado. “Also! There has to be something else you can do. Is your internship mandatory?” 

“I need to do it!” you drag your hands down your face and bang your head repeatedly into the soft cushion behind you. 

“Can you reduce your hours?” He’s next to you now, plopping down on the couch and pulling you over to sit across his lap. 

“Technically?” You bury your face in the crook of his neck, drape yourself over him and soak in his warmth, his steadiness. 

“Then that’s what you’re gonna do. And tonight, we’re gonna watch a movie. And then I’m gonna toss you onto our freshly made bed and I’m gonna eat you out til you’re so delirious you couldn’t think about your ‘workload’ if you tried.”

“What about the laundry?” 

“It can wait.” He kisses you softly again. You make an exasperated noise, but you let him grab the remote, pull up Netflix, put on a movie. You let him cradle you and kiss you.

Dieter isn’t perfect. He’s messy and forgetful and can’t hold down a job to save his fucking life. But he’s steady, soft, comforting. He’s understanding and kind and silly and a little bit brilliant.

You know that when everything gets too much for you to carry, he can carry you. 

[nicoleanell]

I would love to hear your meta on the scene from Renfield with the priest and the vampire hunter, if you’d be willing to share!

SURE, THANK GOD YOU ASKED.

My thing with that scene is it was peak Give Renfield A Hug and also the most irredeemable thing he does in the movie short of destroying some kid's ant farm, and that instantly made me fall in love with him.

I like the fact they made Renfield an aggressively sympathetic character and at the same time not wholly innocent. Robert Montague Renfield is neither a good guy or a bad guy but he deserves to be okay. (Also he may come off way more "sane" as movie Renfields go but he's not a well person lol, and the fact he's in an all-gender support group for abuse survivors very rapidly becomes not so much A Joke as it is the Entire Point of the movie.)

In the flashbacks, it's totes played for comedy and riffing on the 1931 movie and there's a little bit of an "unreliable narrator" vibe to it when Renfield's like, it was good we had great times etc. :))) We don't really know how in control of himself he is or how much he's whitewashing. But then we get the church/vampire killer thing and there's like... the first seed of something more real going on. The movie tells us upfront that the last time Dracula was almost defeated he stopped it, willingly, and it wasn't normal vampire enthrallment stuff as much as a very human emotional choice.

There's some heavy-handed manipulation happening and it's *completely* non-supernatural. They'll lock you away. I'll protect you. I care about you. And Nic Hoult's big woobie eyes hold all the sadness and isolation and genuine hope/desire to be loved, and it's unhealthy attention but there's nothing better out there for him. 🥺 <- emoji rendition of Renfield and also me.

Oh and for good measure his "he really means it this time" internal monologue is 100% meant to sound like toxic/abusive boyfriend stuff he's echoing from the support group, which is A Joke in this movie until it's not anymore.

(Side note, I saw you mention this in another post - the mental institution headcanon is Valid. I would've liked for it to be explicitly in there somewhere but as far as I'm concerned nothing *contradicts* it and it's one of like 3 facts people associate with Spiders Georg over here. So I'll take that crumb that the threat of him getting locked up is just as likely to be in an asylum (again) as a jail. And yikes the legitimate fear of that being WORSE than the hell he's currently in.)

And the second he does the thing, some priest *completely proves Dracula right* by immediately throwing more guilt and blame on Renfield and being like YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR EVERYONE ELSE HE KILLS NOW. Which, fair! But also, dude, you're being the opposite of helpful here! Lmao fucking Catholics. He knows this! It's why he can't get out! Of course he chose Dracula and he did it on purpose and he did it because of trauma and it *cemented* him being trapped forever. This is the climax of an entire other movie in which Renfield is probably not the main character but would definitely end up my problematic fave anyway.

SO YEAH. Between that and the reveal he left a whole wife & kid, there's such an interesting theme of guilt/shame on top of self-esteem and learned helplessness issues I was not anticipating in this movie. It's important for him to get to a place of: "I want to blame this legitimately awful monster but I also did SOME of this to myself, and when I can accept that without immediately going into a fetal position, it gives him less power over me."

Does not remove his power completely! 'Cause Renfield 2023 is also not, like, saying that you can just Easily Decide To Leave Your Violent Abuser. But the affirmations about being enough and deserving better and seeking better in spite of having failed or fucked up before are important.

[atastypeach]

listen, Rolan's whole story just hits me really hard. Yes, this game is about breaking cycles, but I feel like addressing Rolan's cycle of abuse is something I gotta talk about because it's eating me up inside.

So through this game, we're told all about Cazador. Astarion isn't shy about making damn sure everyone knows just how much of a god awful wretch he is. And regardless of which ending you choose for Astarion - he gets to break free from his abuser. Sure, the cycle has a strong chance of continuing if you let him ascend, but this post isn't about it. It's about the catharsis of him killing Cazador. I think anyone who has been the survivor of abuse - in any form - may have found something truly freeing about Astarion getting to remove his shackles. But for me, something was missing. And what was missing was the secrecy of the abuse. I'm 33. I didn't face the worst of my abuse until I was 28. But that abuse went unnoticed by most people in my life. Came at the hand of my stepfather after my mom died of a terminal illness. Your tl;dr: I escaped his abuse in January of this year after years of torment. But it took people who loved me for me to realize what was happening. And I see this in Rolan too.

See, I failed at saving Rolan my first game. My game sequence broke. He didn't spawn until after I had completed Moonrise Towers and broke into the prisons. Saved him then but well. He turned on me in the end because I didn't save Cal and Lia. I'm sorry honey, blame the coding of the game being screwy, not me. But in Rolan I see a lot of myself. Not to be a kinnie on main (A/N: I am not a kinnie) but this young man shares an uncomfortable amount of traits with me, from being an overworking nerd, to being so desperately loyal to my loved ones, to drinking intensely when i can't cope with my emotions (I'm in therapy for this) and much more. And his story line has resonated with me as someone who has experienced hidden abuse. When we first meet him, he speaks highly of Lorroakan and his apprenticeship. The only real indication we get that Lorroakan might be bad news is from Gale who calls him a blowhard or something like that. We just know he's kind of a tool. But when we first meet Rolan - he's a tool. A match made in heaven, so what does it matter. But what we don't see is once we get to act three, how Rolan handles this apprenticeship with Lorroakan. And as someone who has seen both outcomes now...it hurts to see. If you fail to save Cal and Lia, Rolan follows Lorroakan blindly. He does as he wishes. He regards you with contempt and disdain. He sides with a man who we only know from a vague journal post in his bedroom that he may be experiencing abuse. He becomes Lorroakan's pawn doing precisely what he wishes. He dies for Lorroakan. A man we know has been exploiting, abusing and harming him. A man who likely knew he had Rolan wrapped around his finger because he is all Rolan had left. No family. No friends. No home to return to. Rolan is a nobody with only this wizard as his grounding point. There is no one for him, so Lorroakan has the perfect plaything. The perfect pawn. He can do whatever he wants to Rolan and there is no one to save him. And the worst part? Rolan was probably content to do just that. Sure, Lorroakan might be beating him, verbally harassing him and even worse -- but Lorroakan didn't let his family die. He wasn't the cause of Rolan losing the people he loved. And we never learn that he's being hurt until after he's already dead. But if you save him? You save his family? He recognizes his worth. He has family who see him for who he is. Who see his strengths. He has people worth living for and he has the opportunity for so much growth. He recognizes, likely thanks to the love and support he has from not only his siblings - but from you as a player, that he's being hurt. He's being exploited and used and harmed. He knows he is being abused and he wants to fight back, for his sake and for the sake of others - for his family, for Dame Aylin, for you.

IDK man, I just wanted to ramble about this. Because Rolan's own survivor story covers the hidden abuse that doesn't always get talked about. The abuse of someone who desperately is trying to remain strong in the face of it. I could probably keep rambling. Talk about how he was willing to die for Lorroakan because Lorroakan was all he had left, in his bad ending. But I think I've said my peace. I got him killed in my first playthrough, but in my second (which I'm still finishing) I feel like I'm doing myself a kindness in turn by offering him the love and support he needs. I love him. A lot.

[cocomuffy]

I watched Teen Titans: The Judas Contract (2017) because The Batman (2022) was too long.

7/10

spoilers, obviously. here are my live thoughts:

I THINK ITS A DICKORY MOVIE AND IF IT IS I WILL BE SO HAPPY YOU HAVE NO IDEA

Kory kissed him to learn English- I'm laughing so hard right now this is hilarious.

if i had watched this movie in 2020 i would have realized i was bi a lot sooner

The coloration of the "Five Years Ago" and "Now" text is messing with my designer heart rn

it's the red nightwing outfit!!!!!! i havent got to see that much. i much prefer the blue bc there's already like seven red batfam members but like i do think it looks stylish because its dick and dick pulls off everything

"Nightwing." "Nightwing." "Dick..!" "oh, yeah?"

OH THEY'RE SO CUTEEEEEEEE

"they're different..." trails off. "like kory will tell you." "noo, you go aheaddd..." "I've been studying them for years--"

I ALREADY LOVE THEM "robin stop complimenting the bad guys"

no they did not just got there (at 9:40)

damian is just such a brat i love him

kicking my feet, squealing, giggling, throwing up BECAUSE SHE HAS HIS NINE AND HE HAS HER SIX--

i took a fifteen minute break to do the math on how old dick and kory are and got 36?!??!?!?!

garfield has no rizz

i just got like... punched in the gut seven times??? "i just miss my son"

it's the fact that damian is like "i approve of your gf" and nightwing's like "okay???"

"You don't have to move a mountain to help people, Terra." - Probably the theme of this movie

i was not ready for the sexual jokes

oh no raven is on the groundddd

how stupid is damain?!?!??!?!?!?!! especially after the part that slade says about lazarus pits?! he has to know that there is no way he can feasibly win this! and terra isn't helping! which means that terra is probably working with slade!!! GUESS WHO CALLED IT!!!!!!!!!!!

oh god this slade and terra stuff is no good

please tell me that we were not about to get a dick and kory makeout scene

oh thank god for damian

oh my god imagine going into your surpise party thinking people are about to kill you :skull:

ugh i dont like this garfield selfie timeskip whatever

and hasn't anyone noticed robin isn't here???

im doing os much calculations rn for no reason at all

AWWWWWWWWWWWWW STARFIRE'S GOT SOMETHING TO SAYYYYYYYYYY THEY LOVE EACH OTHER AND THEY JUST WANT THE BEST FOR EACH OTHER I LOVE THEM

aw. beastboy being supportive

"Do you know why I'm an orphan?" "uhhh... your parents died?"

nooo terra and beast boy kissed absolutely not they are not for each other terra doesn't need any relationships periodddd

aww but bb is really cute after so ig it makes it a lil better

slade shut up this is supposed to be a nice moment

i will never get over dick calling kory babe its too precious i love them so much

i dont trust that gift. i dont trust that.

they're making their moveeeeee- they're taking all the titansss oh noooo

i think that leaves nightwing as the last survivor which is really nerve wracking because i love dick grayson so much??

gar youre so stupid

oh no kory i love you kory please be okayyy

dick just got shot in the chest oh my god, oh my god. screaming crying hyperventilating oh my god oh my god oh my god.

oh i shouldve known he'd be just fine htis is why i love him hes so dependable

OH MY GOD HE JUST RE-SET HIS SHOULDER ON A SUPPORT BEAM HOLY MOLY

"What did you do to Robin?" "I beat the crap out of him for being mouthy."

i have the stupidest sense of humor.

guys i love dick grayson so much and he's the only one left and mmmmm im so ready for this i love dick grayson hes my favorite

ohhh huh terra's getting betrayeeddddd (i never liked terra even though she makes sense she just gives me ickies)

eugh i hate slade he just likes to make sexual references to people that he should not be making those references to i know hes like a predator but it just doesnt make me happy

what is this machine even doing? is it draining their blood? you would need some sort of needle or something? ik that brother blood said something about life? is it draining their life force like some kind of dark crystal jim henson type stuff? what's going on with it? their powers? like... if they wanted nightwing then they weren't going for powers, and they did regular humans first anyway? i dont understand.

woah its the titans against a villian with similar powers!!!!!!!! /j

i like this first pairing of kori and jaime and gar and raven against brother blood and damian and dick against slade bc it feels really personal and also fair.

terra was obivously going to save them all there was no doubt in my mind.

and then teamwork and then they win because of course they do

woah she just shot him like three times that was excessive

oh noooo terraaaaa ( im not sad )

DAMIAN GOT A PUPPY EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD IS RIGHT WEONFOIEWFOIBEWOINFOWNEONFEW

"Terra Markov was like a diamond, the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen."

no beast boy dont make me feel for her

i just realized that i think i called "jaime" "hime" for some godforsaken reason i swear to god my ears are stupid.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

final thoughts:

this movie was a bit much for me on sexual innuendos and references, but most of it was plot relevant. i love to see dickory so im good with that. animation was good. characters were good. had to warm up to gar but that's okay.

7/10

[strawberrykidneystone]

chapter 1: once more from the top

summary: after choosing to destroy the reapers, cassandra shepard’s body is once again recovered and reconstructed, without cerberus' help this time. she woke up on a cold table with no memories except a sense of deja vu that she’s been here before.

a/n: AHHHH IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS SERIES!!! also happy N7 day!!! it’s my first one since getting into mass effect this summer, this game has literally changed my life i really do hope i do it justice in my writing <3 also i am not a doctor i am pulling this out of my ass

tags: amnesia troupe, angst, hospital, mention of me2 shepard death, destroy ending, earthborn/sole survivor! shepard

ao3 version

cold.

cassandra gasped awake on the cold steel table, immediately doubling over into a coughing fit. she was gasping for air while being blinded by the bright lights bouncing off of the completely white room, causing her to squint in pain. her lungs burned as she gasped for air, the coldness of the room felt like she was rapidly being stabbed with icicles at her every movement.

where the hell was she?

the last thing she remembered was…

what was the last thing she remembered?

she remembered being called onto the citadel by admiral anderson and… that’s about it.

what did he want to talk about?

why was she in a hospital?

where was anderson?

god she was light headed.

shepard quickly looked around to gather her surroundings, as any good soldier would in an unfamiliar situation. it was obvious that she was in some sort of hospital, but it was strange that she was on a metal slab instead of a bed. and why did she have a strong sense of deja vu lying here? she was hooked up to an iv in her left arm with a heart rate monitor on her finger alerting whoever that her bpm was too fast. as she looked around for something, anything familiar, her eye caught some get well soon cards, dead flowers in faded painted dust-covered vases, and- was that a happy 33rd birthday card? last time she checked, she was barely 29.

was she in a coma? how did this happen?

suddenly her eyes fell to the table next to her- was that a severed arm???? it clearly had biotics attached to it, yet it looked eerily familiar…

her breathing was still unstable, the beeping of the monitor falling on deaf ears as her chest heaved and she felt like she wasn’t getting enough air into her lungs. eyes rapidly glancing around the room, she couldn’t focus on anything.

oh god her vision was going blurry.

someone in a hazmat suit on came into the room and said something garbled that she couldn’t understand, all she could hear was her own rapid breathing. the stranger grabbed an oxygen mask and put it around her head. they grabbed a big needle off of the nearby tray table and injected something into her iv. she suddenly felt her eyes drooping, regretting not ripping out the iv when she was conscious. who knows what she just got put into her system? the last thing she saw was the bright light of the room glaring down at her.

if this was heaven, this sucks.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

when she came to once again, much calmer this time, she could hear several voices talking in hushed tones all around her. she wasn’t on the cold table anymore, but a soft bed that had her sitting up in an almost completely upright position. there were about a million pillows supporting her head and back. despite the newly comfortable accommodations, she could feel her entire body aching like never before. she groaned and turned her head to the side, slowly opening her eyes as if for the first time once again, adjusting to the harsh lights a lot quicker this time. the voices suddenly stopped speaking as they noticed her waking up and she heard a female voice gasp.

“she’s awake!”

“oh thank the goddess.”

“can it be?”

“shepard!”

“cass, honey are you okay?” she felt two hands cup her right hand, only they weren’t human hands. there were only 3 fingers, was it a turian? or maybe a quarian? why were they holding her hand? they had a rough texture, so they had to be turian hands. yet the usually sharp talons were filed down. that was odd, sharp talons were usually a point of pride for turians.

she didn’t know any turians that closely, who the hell was this?

as she blinked away the bleariness from her eyes, her vision cleared up and showed the guests at her bedside. there was an asari, a few humans, a quarian- was that a krogan???

and of course as she looked to her right, she saw the turian cupping her hands. god he was beautiful, with the most brilliant shade of blue in his eyes she had ever seen. she could feel the anxious energy vibrating off of him, his hands tensely holding hers as if she would slip away at any moment. there was something so comforting about his hold, her chest felt significantly lighter with his hands around hers, even though she swore that she had never seen him before.

wait, did he call her cass? only her close friends called her that. and why was he looking at her like that?

she looked around the room with a bewildered look on her face. the asari was weeping and smiling so brightly at her. shepard felt her chest ache for some reason, she felt the urge to comfort her even though she had no idea who she was. a few of the humans had misty eyes as well, even the krogan looked a little choked up. that is, if krogan could even get choked up.

one of the humans noticed the look on her face and his brows knit together. she mused over his face and finally recognized him: kaidan alenko. anderson had introduced them once while the normandy was docked at the citadel. shepard awkwardly pulled her hand away from the unfamiliar turian's grasp, an uncomfortable smile gracing her face, “lieutenant, mind filling me in on what happened?”

kaidan’s confusion turned into shock as she addressed him, eyes darting over to the turian who was obviously very hurt by shepard pulling her hand away, his jaw hanging open in surprise. his hands were still seemingly stuck in the cupping position, maybe he was frozen.

kaidan cleared his throat and smiled as confidently as he could, the corner of his mouth betraying his false poise with an uncertain twitch, “it’s ah, it’s major now commander- never mind that’s not important. are you… feeling okay commander?”

shepard scoffed and laughed, shaking her head in disbelief, “commander? i think you’re mixing me up with anderson, major.”

suddenly, the room fell dead silent.

kaidan glanced around the room, unsure of what to say. had she lost her memory? why did she think that anderson was still alive?

“sorry uh- shepard, what’s the last thing you remember?”

sheperd rubbed the side of her head and her brows furrowed together in confusion as she tried to process everything that was happening. commander? was she promoted in her sleep? no that would be ridiculous, right?

“um, i remember anderson wanting to talk to me about an assignment but that’s about it… why? did something happen? and why did you call me commander?”

shepard’s questions hung in the air unanswered by the strangers that surrounded her, frustrating her even further. she didn’t know them, but something about them felt so familiar, she just couldn't put her finger on it. the turian next to her rushed out of the room, with the asari reaching out to him with a swift ‘garrus wait’ before following him out of the room. the rest of the followed group suit, albeit very confused, and quietly left the room.

kaidan was the only one staying behind. he tentatively walked to the side of the bed and slowly took a seat with only one thigh actually resting on the gurney.

“major, what’s going on?”

a dry smile tugged its way onto his lips and he lightly placed his hand over hers, “don’t worry about it for now shepard, just focus on getting some rest for now.” he didn't want to overwhelm her or go against any medical procedures for situations like this, so he opted to let her just recover for now.

she nodded slowly as her eyebrows pinched together, still confused but surprisingly put a lot of trust in his judgment, even though they had only just met in an informal setting. he patted her hand before swiftly leaving the room, closing the door behind him with a cringe as he heard the loud woosh of the decontamination air kicking in. he sighed and looked up, seeing his equally distressed peers gathered outside of the hospital room.

garrus was hastily pressing the alert button to the room, a million different things running through his mind, but he needed answers and needed them now. liara took the button out of his hand as they saw a doctor coming over and resisted scolding him for his immature antics. she couldn't tell what was going through his head, but she knew that wouldn't help right now. tali, had her arms crossed and was staring at the floor, unsure of how to feel about the situation. miranda had her eyebrow furrowed and was chewing at her bottom lip, fearing the worst that bringing shepard back once again had lost a huge chunk of her memory forever. she couldn't help but wonder if she should contact her former cerberus peers to see if anything could help with this side effect, but she knew shepard would be pissed if she did, and she didn't want to put herself or her sister at risk of being involved with that wretched company ever again. grunt was obviously irritated and liara quickly sent him outside before he could start to rack up shepard's medical bill even more.

thankfully a familiar face, doctor chakwas, rushed over at the constant notifications and before she could even open her mouth, garrus bombarded her with questions, "is she going to get her memory back? is this permanent? is she-"

"garrus let the woman talk," kaidan urged and placed a hand on his shoulder. garrus took a deep breath and sighed, looking at the doctor desperately for any kind of reassurance.

chakwas folded her hands together and looked around at the nervous former crew members, "the brain is... tricky. sometimes memories come back, sometimes they doesn't. and with this basically being her second resurrection from the dead, it's not particularly surprising. we will continue to monitor her in the following days, but i can't make any promises. i would recommend trying to bring items in that have a particular emotional memory tied to them that can help jog her memory. i would also advise against group visiting as to not overwhelm her, but as I've learned from being on the Normandy, you all will do whatever you want regardless of what i say."

there was a few soft laughs at the doctor’s small quip at the end, but the group fell into silence once again. chakwas patted garrus' shoulder and he nodded at her small attempt at comfort, grateful for the support.

"we uh... we should let her rest for today, we can start trying to jog her memory tomorrow once she's rested," garrus said somewhat shakily, his shoulder tense as he glanced into the hospital room at his peers- no, his friends. seeing her passed out with so many machines attached to her made him sick to his stomach, but he knew that there was nothing he could do at that moment that would be even remotely helpful, cursing his past self for not going into the medical field. spirits it killed him to leave her alone, but he was trying to think like her, she would want him to rest if the situation was reversed, so that's exactly what he's doing.

the others nodded in agreement and liara sprinted ahead of the group to go tell grunt the news, hoping in vain that the krogan hasn't destroyed anything major yet.

garrus hesitated and stayed back from the group, peering into her room as if she would disappear if he looked away. she had never looked so... small. the great commander shepard in a hospital gown who stood so tall looked so vulnerable and frail. he knew that she wasn't, but he couldn't help but feed into the voice in the back of his mind yelling at him that he had lost her forever. no, he wouldn't believe that, he couldn't believe it.

she was still in there somewhere, she had to be. there was no shepard without vakarian, and he was determined to make this right.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: sorry about the dead silent joke, too soon?

chapter 2

[beardedmrbean]

[Huey Zoomer anon]

You know I been thinking about the handling of abuse and dysfunctional family and how for some reason a lot of people just realizing the generational trauma…is there any millennials abuse survivors around? Were you taught to be narcissistic as fuck?

Me getting in social media: Man I hope I can find other people like me- why the fuck do most supposed abuse survivors have MY abuser narracism and victim complex?

Also people complain about how many villains these days have a sob story or a “redeemable” enough…actually I think a figure out

You see a lot of leftists are upper middle class people who grew up in a black and white society. They didn’t see the flaws of America until the 08 crash and going to college. Hence why they bitch about American imperialism

But when you a black person who learn their grandmother was a crackhead…and seeing generation after generation of single mother raising…

The left: You know that America did a lot of evil shit?!

Me: I was born on the anniversary of Martin Luther King Jr ASSASSINATION! And my elders hammer down the rights I was born with were the PRIVILEGES during their childhoods

Sorry set up, so imo a lot of leftists grew up in the Hollywood oversimplified views of history, especially WW2, its miracle that allies didn’t start killing each other after Hitler died

But anyways, I think a lot of writers was to show that many villains have legit grips…but that like many fractions in history

Germany was fucked over by the Treaty of Versailles hence why Hitler and the Nazis gain power. Many criminals organizations was created to the lack of support and resources government created

Didn’t we all learn that but mid teens…or did these modern writers only knew the PG versions of historical events because of their shitty colleges and schools.

Thank fucking god assassin creed and hetalia encourage to research history and society more than the coastal fucks (not you) who make more in a month than I do in a year

There's trauma and abuse in every generation, we all just process it differently, tail end Gen-X and millennials were the ones who managed to finally make getting help a bit more ok, we still had things like Prozac Nation but managed some big strides there, but we were also guinea pigs for treatment and coping styles as well as classification.

There's that and the internet has a think about making all that shit currency you can trade for validation points.

Also people complain about how many villains these days have a sob story or a “redeemable” enough…actually I think a figure out

That's not new, though people have gotten more aggressive about it lately.

Post on here years back 'the only good nazi is a ex nazi' that one started up a whole world of discourse from the 'I want to hold people responsible for life' crowd, they get mad when someone turns their life away from hate and then proceeds to get other people to walk away too.

Not sure why, instead of one less nazi there might be dozens less as a result of their actions, some people would rather go with violence I guess.

Look at the folks that called Daryl Davis a white supremacist.

Sorry set up, so imo a lot of leftists grew up in the Hollywood oversimplified views of history, especially WW2, its miracle that allies didn’t start killing each other after Hitler died

Stalin knew better, given how much of his stuff was lend/lease.

Didn’t we all learn that but mid teens…or did these modern writers only knew the PG versions of historical events because of their shitty colleges and schools. Thank fucking god assassin creed and hetalia encourage to research history and society more than the coastal fucks (not you) who make more in a month than I do in a year

gotta look round and find the good stuff, then get other people involved in it.

If you do things like YT music or Spotify and take the free option you'll sometimes get a advert that's just some bands song, the record companies pay for that so they can wear people down and try to get that song stuck in their heads no matter how bad it is.

The idea crosses over into a lot of media, if they can make something seem like something everyone is involved with peer pressure and the need to be included takes over.

There's so much psychology involved in marketing, it's nuts.

Gotta manage to grass roots the actual good stuff, or at least the stuff you like and would like to see more of, if there's money to be made off of it someone will make it.

[devilofthehounds]

God Eater 3 Character Novel | Beginning of a Vow: Chapter 3

[image id: A novel cover. Hugo Pennywort from God Eater 3 is leaning against the bars of a prison cell. He is holding up his hand and looking at one of his armlets as if reminiscing. On the other side of the bars is a faded image of a young Hugo looking off into the distance. The text, when translated into English, reads “God Eater 3 Character Novel | Chapter 1: Hugo Edition | Beginning of a Vow”. /end id]

This is a fan translation. Original text here.

Masterpost 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Adaptive God Eater. AGE.

It was explained to us that we would be special God Eaters infiltrating the Ashlands, where normal God Eaters couldn't operate.

They gathered kids from all over who had no relatives, forced them to take the aptitude test, then threw the survivors into the Ashlands to gather information.

That was how Port Pennywort operated.

PW­–01407: Hugo Pennywort.

That was my new name after surviving the aptitude test.

I was put in handcuff-like armlets and thrown into a prison cell. Still in a daze from the aptitude test, my first instinct was to lash out at the guards.

"Hey, what about the others... Are there any others from the satellite base?"

"Oh, those energetic brats. They probably got thrown in a different block. If you're a good boy, maybe I'll let you visit them."

The guard was mocking me, but my heart started to fill with hope.

"Then everyone's here, huh? ...Alright... Alright!"

I wanted them to be safe at the base if possible, but the fact that they were all here reassured me more than anything else.

Everyone in the defense team, and Luca.

I wasn't alone. That awareness inspired me, even in this prison, anxiety swirling around me.

It wasn't at all the way I wanted it to happen, but I knew we could make our dream come true here.

Even with a God Arc that looked like it was cobbled together out of junk, I didn't feel anxious at all.

With this thing, I'd kick the Aragami to the curb. And someday, along with the rest of the defense team, we'd return to everyone who was waiting for us at the satellite base.

Then we could proudly tell everyone we loved that they wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore.

Clutching the already familiar Long Blade-type God Arc in my hand, I decided to make that dream a reality as soon as possible.

I couldn't meet up with the rest of the defense team, since they were put in a different block, but even as the days were filled with grueling training, I continued to work hard without a single word of complaint. Perhaps influenced by my example, more and more of the kids in the prison began to smile, little by little.

The budding sense of camaraderie bolstered my heart even more, and then—

The day came when I was assigned my first mission as an AGE.

The first mission was reconnaissance.

Infiltrate an area where the ash density had recently risen and bring back information regarding the Ashlands.

The ones assigned were me and Luca.

I was sick of being shaken by the dark truck like that day, but I was also excited by the prospect of a real battle, with real opponents.

"Finally, our first mission... Let's do our best, Luca. They're expecting a lot from us. If we get results, maybe the guards will change their tune!"

Luca nodded with a thin smile, but his face betrayed his anxiety.

"It'll be okay. If you're in danger, just stay behind me. I'll protect you from any Aragami!"

I'd be the vanguard. Luca would hang back and play support. I figured that would work best.

"...Thank you. I'll... I'll protect you, too, Hugo."

"Aw, thanks. I'm counting on you, partner!"

In his own way, Luca must have summoned all his courage to say that.

With those words, what uneasiness was left in my heart completely disappeared.

"Alright, pups, it's time. Get ready."

The guard's orders came through the radio loud and clear.

We got out of the parked truck, dragging along the heavy cases containing our God Arcs.

"So, this is the Ashlands..."

Since being welcomed into the satellite base, I had rarely seen the scenery outside the armored wall. It felt like it had been a long time since I'd looked out over the world like this.

A desolate landscape that stretched on endlessly. The black ash floating in the air stung my skin, making me feel sick.

"I am now releasing the restraints on Pennywort AGEs Hound 1 and Hound 2."

The conjoined armlets detached with a violent flash of electricity.

The small amount of regained freedom made that feeling of sickness grow even stronger.

"Come on, let's go, Luca! We'll make it back alive, together!"

We took our God Arcs and ran to the point where the ash concentration had risen, keeping a close eye on our surroundings.

After becoming a God Eater, my physical capabilities had improved remarkably, but the farther we went, the heavier the air weighed on my body.

"Hugo, look over there."

A few minutes after the start of the mission, Luca was the first to catch a glimpse of the enemy. It was still a long way off, but five Ogretails—small Aragami with tails like demon masks—were running around.

"...What should we do? It looks like they're heading in the same direction as us."

"Let's sneak after them. They seem to be traveling in a pack. If there's a nest or something like that, we can find it and report back."

We followed the pack of Ogretails, keeping a safe distance so as not to be noticed.

I had been able to calmly assess the situation and give precise instructions. I thought it was going well.

However, even though they were small, there were five of them. The tension of wondering when they would notice us, combined with the heavy air of the Ashlands, was starting to make me feel a little fatigued.

"Is that...?"

Suddenly, I stopped and stared at something out of the corner of my eye.

"Hugo? What's wrong?"

There was a large, rocky hill that had been eaten away at by the Aragami. Part of it was unnaturally chipped away.

I felt like I recognized that hill.

"...Huh?"

I looked around again.

This was the Ashlands. An unknown, dangerous place where flesh and blood could never hope to operate.

That was what it was supposed to be, but even so, I felt like I had been here before.

"That's right... I had to get over that weird, rocky hill... really quickly."

I remembered. How could I forget?

Having lost my family in the Calamity, I had desperately kept moving forward on my wandering journey in despair.

The endpoint of that journey was just ahead.

Driven by an ominous premonition, I started running.

I scrambled up the hill and ran desperately to find a spot where I could get a bird's-eye view of the area ahead.

And then.

"Why... How...?"

I was speechless at the view below me.

A place surrounded by a huge armored wall with a dirty wolf emblem engraved in it.

A small cradle where people huddled together.

It was a satellite base.

"A satellite base... all the way out here, too. But this deep in the Ashlands..."

I could hardly hear Luca's words as he caught up to me.

The entrance to the armored wall was completely open. The Ogretails we'd been following entered the base like they were coming home.

"Hey, what are you doing? Report back when you reach the designated point."

The guard's cold voice echoed from the radio.

"This... This is... the satellite base where I..."

"Yeah, that's why you were picked for this assignment. We figured you'd have the lay of the land. Don't go zoning out now."

"Then, the area swallowed up by the Ashlands..."

"You ought to be grateful. If we hadn't picked you up when we did, you would've been swallowed up, too."

"Wh... What about everyone at the base?!"

"Does it look like there were any survivors? If there were, it'd be the discovery of the century! Ahahaha!"

The guard's harsh laughter echoed in my head.

The deafening sound caused a dark ripple to spread through my blank, still mind.

"Did you... Did you know from the beginning that this place was going to be swallowed up by the Ashlands...?"

They were supposed to be God Eaters.

They were supposed to wield their God Arcs for the sake of defending humanity.

And yet—And yet—

"Why... Why didn't you save everyone?!"

I screamed the words so loud, it felt like my throat was going to tear open.

But what came back was the same inorganic, disinterested voice.

"Hmph, idiot. There's no way we could afford to feed dozens of adults with no chance of passing the aptitude test."

"Don't... Don't mess with me...! It's a lie... It's a lie, it's a lie! It has to be a lie!"

I fell to my knees on the withered earth. I couldn't stop my tears from overflowing.

Were they all dead? I'd never gotten the chance to repay them.

None of them deserved to die.

They'd been kind, warm, precious—we'd been a real family.

"How am I going to tell the others...?"

There was no way any of the defense team members at the Port knew about this yet.

I was going to have to be the one to deliver the news to them, to bring them this despair.

The very thought made my chest tighten even more.

"Oh, yeah. Now that I think about it, there were some other kids brought from that base. Guess I'm the one that has to break it to you—"

At that moment.

I learned the true nature of this world.

"They're all dead."

".........What?"

"All four of them failed the aptitude test. One of them even transformed into an Aragami. Putting that one down was a real pain."

I had thought I couldn't see them because they were in a different block...

I never saw them because... they weren't here anymore...?

The moment I realized it, the memories of the days we'd spent at the base flashed through my mind.

The five of us would fulfill our dream together and become a real defense team to protect the base.

We would become heroes and make a triumphant return, telling everyone that we were home.

"You understand now? Your lives are cheap. Do your best to be of use to the masters that saved you, you dog."

A dry gust of wind blew through the air.

The wind, coarse and mixed with ash, coldly caressed my cheek.

"Ah... Ah... Aaaaaaaaah!"

The kids in the prison had been much more sober about reality than me.

We were going to die. We were nothing special. We were only being used because we happened to be around. And we would disappear for nothing.

I finally understood that we were nothing more than miserable dogs.

"You... All of you..."

However, in the depths of my despairing heart, there was a feeling that burned fiercely.

Even if my life was worthless, I would be the one to decide how to use it.

That, at the very least, was a form of rebellion. It was my way of proving that I was still alive.

I ripped off my radio and glared down at the Aragami, coming and going from the base as if they owned it. My grip on my God Arc tightened.

"I'll never forgive you!"

Driven by my fury, I tried to jump down from the hill.

But before I could, Luca grabbed my hand.

"Hugo, wait! I'll go, too!"

"Don't follow me! Just get away from here!"

This was my problem. I couldn't drag Luca into it—I couldn't let him die.

I shook his hand away and started running toward the base.

The armored wall was open; everyone must have noticed the Ashlands approaching and tried to escape.

Do we stay locked up in the base and wait for the ash to swallow us?

Or do we find hope outside, one way or another?

Everyone at the base making that choice... They wouldn't have given up. They would've tried to live.

However, the base's single truck was crushed to nothing just outside the armored wall.

There were lots of small explosives lying beside the truck, waiting to be used as a diversion, as if there hadn't even been time to use them.

"Everyone...!"

The image of the base in my memory had been painted over without a trace.

Houses had been reduced to rubble. Dried bloodstains could be seen all over.

This place of memories, where I'd been surrounded by warm people, had now transformed into a nest of small Aragami.

"Damn it... Damn it! You... Aaaaaaah!"

Ogretails. Axe Raiders. Cocoon Maidens. Blast Spiders.

There were more than several dozens of them. It would be suicidal, beyond reckless, for even a skilled fighter to take them on alone.

But so what?

From the very beginning, this was the place to set my life ablaze.

"Grrrrrroooooh!"

The Aragami noticed me and all let out roars in unison.

I dodged some spikes from an Ogretail and swung my God Arc at its face.

It melted through the Aragami like a hot knife through butter.

I could fight. With these hands, I could avenge everyone.

Using an Aragami's corpse as a shield, you could block small long-range attacks. You could also safely restore your depleted Oracle by slashing at the corpse.

Ironically, Pennywort's training program had been excellent in building a fighting style that used whatever was available.

Maybe it was because I was so beat up, but my body moved so nimbly that it was hard to believe this was my first battle.

But then, a flash of red Oracle energy rose into the ash-filled sky. The laser of a Cocoon Maiden.

Two, then three red lights flew in succession from all sides.

"Crap!"

I couldn't deploy my shield in time. I got hit by the lasers and blown away.

Somehow, I managed to regain my stance. But then, the huge maw of an Ogretail was right in front of me.

"...! Waaaah!"

Reflexively, I unleashed the Impulse Edge, the secret weapon of the Long Blade-type God Arc.

The shockwave was so powerful, it depleted all of my Oracle in a single shot, crushing not only the Ogretail in front of me, but also all of the Aragami that had been approaching me.

However, the recoil was so strong that I was sent flying back, rolling on the ground, and slammed into the armored wall.

The impact knocked me unconscious for a moment, but my body moved reflexively.

To try and open a path, I stabbed my God Arc straight through an approaching Blast Spider.

Its body swelled up eerily.

"Uh-oh!"

At the moment of the Blast Spider's death, its activated Oracle Cells set off an explosion.

Propelled by the heat of the blast, my body was flung through the air and slammed to the ground.

A pain I had never felt before assaulted my entire body. My Oracle was more depleted than I could have imagined.

But still.

"It's still... not enough...!"

Mustering what energy I could, I stood on my trembling legs and tried to charge the Aragami. But then—

From the ground, countless new Aragami sprang up.

Zygotes. Even though they could fly, they had been hiding underground.

"Damn it... More of them...?!"

I was more than a little annoyed that something so troublesome had appeared, but that wasn't the end of it.

More Aragami sprang up one after another from the ground of the base.

Had they been hiding this whole time? Or had they only come to life just now?

In a matter of seconds, more Aragami than I had killed were writhing around in my field of vision.

It was like watching ants swarm over crumbs of bread. There were so many Aragami that there was no room to move, and they were all closing the distance towards me at the same time.

"Hah... Haha... You gotta be kidding me..."

Aragami were the embodiment of despair. And that was the reason God Eaters fought.

All around the world, there had been even worse despair than this every day, for decades.

The moment that reality hit me, the fear I had managed to suppress with my fury overflowed in my heart.

With the sound of my God Arc hitting the ground, the strength drained from my knees.

"Everyone..."

I wanted to protect this place.

I wanted to protect the smiling faces of everyone who had been kind to me, together with my friends.

But that dream could no longer come true.

If I died, would I be able to see them again?

"Sorry... Luca..."

Please, please, please survive.

I looked down and uttered his name in a small voice, a final prayer.

The next moment—

There was a loud explosion from a corner of the satellite base.

"Hugo!"

Something leapt out from the rising flames, attracting the attention of all the Aragami in one fell swoop.

Luca, wielding shining twin blades—a Biting Edge-type God Arc—flew through the swarm of Aragami like a meteor and landed in front of me.

"Luca, you... you idiot! I told you to run!"

I shouted angrily at his back.

There was no point in both of us dying here.

"...I already told you."

Luca turned and shot me a determined look.

"I'll protect you, too, Hugo!"

Upon saying those words, Luca transformed his God Arc.

What appeared from the blade in his right hand was a jet-black captive mouth that could have been mistaken for an Aragami.

"Hraaaaah!"

The God Arc flashed and, as if it were having a feast, devoured the Aragami that were rushing in, slicing them to ribbons. When the mouth returned to Luca's hand, golden Oracle energy erupted from his body.

"I won't run away. We promised we wouldn't die... We promised we'd make it back alive, together!"

As he shouted, Luca combined his God Arc's blades into a singular weapon.

"I'll keep that promise, no matter what. So don't you run away, either, Hugo!"

Luca raised his God Arc, now in glaive form, toward a Zygote swarming from the air.

Golden Oracle energy erupted from the God Arc's activated blades, drawing a beautiful arc like the moon and slicing the Aragami in two.

A torrent of Oracle energy spread out from Luca's back like wings, knocking the surrounding Zygotes to the ground.

"Whoa..."

Seeing wings of light that could make even Aragami bow in submission, I was certain.

This was hope.

That light. The will to survive. It was the only power capable of surviving in this world.

And I—we—swore to protect that light.

"...Yeah, that's right."

Grasping my God Arc again, I stood next to Luca, newfound strength rising within me.

"My bad... Let's do this, Luca!"

"Yeah, let's go, Hugo! The armored wall will close soon. Can you make it to the exit?"

As if on cue, the armored wall began to close with an earth-shattering rumble.

"You set the armored wall to move?! How do you even know how to do that?"

Letting out a small chuckle, Luca's next words were the most unexpected thing yet.

"...Lucky guess."

"...Ahaha! You're a riot!"

Regardless, it was a good move.

The reason the inside of the base had become an Aragami nest was simple: the door was wide open.

Following that logic, sealing off the entrance would trap all the Aragami inside.

The only question left was whether we could break through this many Aragami and escape the base before getting sealed in ourselves.

"I used all of the explosives from the truck outside to get in here. We'll have to fight with everything we've got."

"Don't worry, the two of us can do it! Let's go!"

We leapt forward, aiming for the gap in the closing armored wall.

Luca took the lead, tearing through the Aragami blocking our path.

I was right at his heels, making assists and protecting his back.

The formation worked surprisingly well. Every fiber of my being told me this was the perfect formation for us.

The armored wall was closing.

Everyone in the defense team. All the people who had been kind to me.

A precious place where, for the first time in my life, I had found friends and a dream.

This place, where so many happy memories lingered, was somewhere I could never return.

I grit my teeth and shook off the memories flooding my mind as fast as I could.

"Hugo!"

Luca, one step ahead of me outside the base, turned back and reached out his hand.

The gap was just large enough that a kid could barely squeeze through.

Without hesitation, I jumped through the boundary between the past and the future.

When I came to, Luca and I were lying in a heap outside the base.

Thankfully, there were no signs of Aragami around us, and there didn't seem to be any chasing us over the wall.

I didn't have the energy to get back up. As we laid together on the ground, I asked him a single question.

"...How could you be so reckless?"

Luca, still lying on the ground, reached his hand out toward the sky as he spoke.

"...That day. In the truck. I thought I was going to die. I felt so scared and alone. But then... you found me, Hugo."

A single wall separated us from hell. Even without making a single sound, every second spent in the Ashlands threatened to cut our lives short.

Luca seemed to smile in relief, even though he had to be covered in wounds as well.

The way he was talking, you would think he was the one who had been saved.

"Your promise from back then—it's been my hope."

He was just like me.

Thanks. Sorry. Both sounded wrong. So instead—

I gave him a small smile and lifted my arm. Luca responded in kind.

"...Wanna head back?"

"Yeah. Let's go home."

The sound of our armlets colliding echoed throughout the Ashlands.

Translator's Note

[ladyimaginarium]

Title: lemonade. Genre: Family, Friendship, Hurt-Comfort, Slice-Of-Life. Fandom: TWDG. Characters: Clementine Maria Jasmine Cree, Isis Onyx ( OC ), AJ ( cameo ). For: Aja / @creolejesus !! Summary: For the first time in a very long time, she felt soft. Feminine. Fierce. Beautiful. Magical. All her life, it seemed like she had to fight, but now, she can simply… unwind for what appeared to be the first time in forever. This was what peace looks like, she thinks, and she prays to any god that would listen that this won't be taken away from her like all the others before. Rating: 16+. Warning(s): Clementine discusses her experiences with antiblackness & texturism as a child in non-explicit detail. Overall, this is a very uplifting ficlet. A/N: this was a concept ficlet i'd& written a while back for my& dear friend aja where back when i& was in the rpc, clementine & isis were basically like a mother-daughter duo where isis would teach her hoodoo & black history & black feminism in the deep south in a ranch area with horses nearby a bayou !! keep in mind that all this was approved by aja who is a afro-indigenous ( specifically black cherokee ) writer who i& always know would make sure i& write accurately should she ever see something that needs fixing. i& write clementine ( & as she is also an introject in our& system ) as a afro-indigenous chinese two spirit nonbinary girl; isis belongs to aja & she is a black creole rootworker & witch from new orleans louisiana with a mysterious past. i& intentionally left this vague whether or not this was in the canon universe of the apocalypse or this is somethin' else but this was actually inspired by the visuals of beyonce's lemonade album, poc cottagecore ( or ig more specifically black & native cottagecore ) & like. i& always hced clem as like always having to codeswitch especially around nonblack and nonnative folx so that mostly white survivors wouldn't view her as a threat ( bc. antiblackness smh ) & so when she's around isis, she feels like she can let those walls down & be authentically herself; i& do my& best to respect the language & aja said i& did a wonderful job at writing it so correctly & with respect as yt folx are really out here doing the absolute most & acting like it's a meme language when it's a language w/ its own dialect, rules, history & culture. i always got like. warm colors & black cottagecore / black witchcore vibes w/ isis & i wanted to reflect that in the visuals bc clementine eventually does do natural protective hairstyles in the future when she grows out her hair so i& think it would've been cool if isis was the one who taught her how to do her braids & stuff like that !! this is all mostly headcanon & exomemory based on clem's part. i& only ask that out of respect considering that this is a gift for a friend that only aja reblogs it but anyone can like it. if you enjoyed this content & you want to leave a tip, you can do that here, while far more importantly, if you want to support black folx, especially queer black folx on juneteenth, you can do that here !! happy juneteenth, black folx who read this, you're so loved!<3333

"Well, ain'tcha' as sweet as a peach, sweetpea!" Isis shrills as her hands complete her latest masterpiece and holds a handheld mirror up for Clementine to see.

The sunlight filtered through the window as Clem's amber eyes gazed back at her reflection, mouth parting with no words coming out, a smile blossoming upon her lips. Her dark brown hair had been tied up in two beautiful afro puffs. "Thank you, ma'am, it's beautiful." Clem murmurs, feeling safe enough to let down her walls that she usually kept around nonblack and nonnative people, so many who had tried to look at her funny even as a child for even speaking in her peoples' dialect. A deep inhale as her eyes flicker over to baby AJ who was suckling on warm milk and honey in a bottle.

"When I was a girl, kids used t' laugh a' me when I went on the schoolbus, call my hair "nappy", look at me funny like I was a clown or Booboo the fool or somethin'," her voice wavers for a moment, trying to hold back the river of tears that was threatening to break the dam before her breath hitches, "an' then I used ta' come home from school cryin' sayin' I was ugly. My daddy never forgot that an' raised hell for all the city t'know, including that school. He used t' tell me every mornin' that I was beautiful and capable of doin' anythin' I set my mind to. I tried... God above, I tried to believe that message but I guess after a while I forgot 'bout it. Hell, I don't even even think I believed him."

Isis listened to every word she said quietly before her lips press gently over Clem's forehead. "You know, your daddy was right, baby. Look at your reflection fo' me."

Clem did as the older woman asked her and as they looked into the mirror together, her voice gently whispered into her ear. "That face is your ancestors staring back at'chu'. They love you, babygirl. Your eyes are as golden as the sun and your heart is even brighter, sweetpea. They're proud that you're here still livin' and breathin' here with me and baby AJ. How many kids your age know how ta' fight like a soldier? How many grown ass adults have the power you got? You keep holdin' your head high and don't let nobody play wi'tchu' 'cause you are that girl and you can be whoever you wanna be. Don't let nobody forget that, don't let nobody play wi'tchu, babygirl, you are not the one to be played with. Black is beautiful and so are you, baby. You hear me?"

The younger girl can't help but smile in the mirror, feeling the warmth of a thousand suns fill her heart, before she turns to the older woman who may as well have been a mother figure to her. She hadn't felt this way in so long that she wanted to cry. "I wanna make you AJ's godmother, miss Isis."

A golden smile graced the woman's features, a soft laugh as sweet as honeycomb filling the room in all its glory as the sun filtered through the window and illuminated her ginger curly locks, "I can be that for baby AJ, babygirl. Now," her doe brown eyes glinted in the sunlight, "you got the herbs I gotchu' to get fo' me? Lemme see. I'm gonna teach you a bit more on herbs and then we gon' ride on horseback together. How that sound, sweetpea?"

Clem nods, a grin revealing pearly whites, "Yes, ma'am," before she stands up and gets her wicker basket and unveils the basket to reveal rue, palo santo and ginger root, her white dress trailing across the floor of the cabin. For the first time in a very long time, she felt soft. Feminine. Fierce. Beautiful. Magical. All her life, it seemed like she had to fight, but now, she can simply... unwind for what appeared to be the first time in forever. This was what peace looks like, she thinks, and she prays to any god that would listen that this won't be taken away from her like all the others before.

[danceswithdarkspawn]

1 and 13.

Hello, and thanks for the ask! Oh my god I've forgotten how to be articulate this morning. I hope this doesn't sound unhinged lol

1. What is a piece of symbolism in your fic?

I use birds a lot in my writing, so much that they're a symbol, a motif, and maybe just a particular quirk I have (because my god do i love birds)

anyway, a direct example that comes to mind is a rosebush. This rosebush has absolutely no business being alive after the village gets razed to the ground by the canonical symbol for the Hubris of Man. Like there's no signs of life anywhere (aside from some survivors found in the church, the only building left standing, make of that what you will).

anyway, rosebush. Ariel finds herself in this decimated garden with her romantic interest, who shows her the rosebush, which has two roses blooming upon its branches. The roses in themselves symbolize a number of things; faith, rebirth, love and even the two characters themselves. I'll drop the passage itself under a readmore because words are escaping me.

13. Is there a transition in your fic you're proud of?

I'm not sure if this is a transition exactly, but I think about a slight segway that Ariel does in one of my more recent chapters a lot. Basically, she ends up accidentally injuring herself, and her LI is helping her patch it up (as one does, obviously), and Ariel says something to the effect of, "It's ok you don't have to." You know, "why are you doing this" basically. The LI responds with "Well, we're friends right? Friends help each other."

And Ariel just kinda...blue screens for a second and recalls a traumatic event from her childhood in which she nearly drowned and says at the end, "that's how I feel right now, I feel like I'm drowning" before going on with the rest of the patching-up scene.

From Chapter 10, The Dragon in the Chantry

“Before I stepped out of the cloister, I had a dream,” Leliana says, drawing me along. “In it, there was an impenetrable darkness, and a terrible, ungodly noise. I stood upon a peak, and watched as the darkness swallowed everything.”

“You dreamt of the Blight?” Her eyes flash over to me before going back down. “I’ve had dreams like that.”

She lets go of me to carefully gather her covering as she picks over debris. “I suppose I did. That is what the darkness was, no?” I reach out to offer support, but I stop myself short, snatching my hand back. I fold them behind my back instead. “When I woke, I came here as I always did. And I saw this.”

She motions with her head towards a corner of the garden. At first, I’m not sure what I am supposed to be looking at. Whatever greenery once decorated this place has long since been reduced to ashen sticks and branches. Ravaged and blight-riddled, unwilling to support life.

But two splashes of carmine rest amongst tangled and thorny branches. 

All the ugly emotion I feel—all the doubt, fear, anxiety; all of it flows away like water. Bewilderment blooms in its place instead. My lips part with a soft exhalation as I step closer to the bush. “Oh, wow.” The words tumble out and drift away on the morning air. 

A glove twists off. I thread my fingers beneath the sepals of one flower and tilt it lightly for further examination. Frigid dew collected amongst its labyrinth of petals trickles into my palm and down my wrist. I let my thumb swipe against its face, reveling in a texture akin to rich fabric. 

Leliana drifts into my periphery. She lets an index finger trail along the face of the other flower. “If you think it looks ungainly now, you should have seen it before the horde came here.” I watch silently, unsure of what she means. “Everyone knew it to be dead. It was grey and twisted and gnarled—the ugliest thing you ever saw. And yet there it was; a single, beautiful rose.”

“And now there are two of them,” I manage. I wipe my hand across my pant leg and stuff it into my pocket. I clench my fist tightly, digging my nails into my palm to distract myself from the stinging sensation lingering across my skin. “How can something like this survive the Blight?”

When I look back at Leliana, I find her watching me with a contented look on her face. Her chin dips when our eyes meet.

Her makeshift hood comes down, hair spilling forward. It catches sun rays, etching lines and shadows across her skin. Her hair is nearly golden in the early morning light, falling gently around her face. It’s textured and messy from days without washing, but it does nothing to detract from how beautiful she looks.

And it is her again, I come to realize; the too-beautiful woman I recognize. Soft, innocent and carefree. I know somewhere in my stifled heart that she’s anything but. Somewhere below rests a facade cut from steel and replete on calculation. It speaks of a life before the Maker, of a world I could probably never understand. 

My stomach flips, my throat tightens, and I look away to anything except her.

How, indeed.

“Who is to say?” Her tone is a whisper, almost reverent. “Perhaps it is the Maker stretching out a hand as if to say, ‘Even amidst all this chaos, there is hope and beauty.” She weaves an arm into mine, fingers gripping lightly. It’s a simple tether, but it dredges up and soothes some ache I did not know I possessed. “‘Have faith.’”

[unknownogre]

 countless alarms screaming their warnings…if they were human they’d have lost their voices already. I wish they were humans…stupid loud alarms. Only have to do one fucking thing their whole life. When did I learn the ability to cuss?

“GOT FUCKING DAMMIT CANNON 15, left engine took a good hit. YOU NEED TO DIRECT NANO BOTS FOR REPAIRS NOW!”

That was Kate…she is where I learned swearing from. Hell without her every human on this ship would be dead…and I…I wouldn’t be thinking. I was just supposed to shoot down the enemy. That was, it…all I had to do. Then the main AI got damaged, then EVERY AI got damaged. That left me. If there are gods of fate they are cruel…why am I thinking about gods? Fuck all this upgraded ram.

“Got it…umm…yeah there! HA! Now!...why are we slowing. OH YES!”

I’m not good at multitasking. Kate was keeping me in line, helping me learn. She doesn’t want to die, and honestly I’d be sad if she did die. Keep her alive, keep the crew alive. Keep her alive, keep the crew alive. That is what I need to focus on. Plain and simple. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be able to add to my programming but I have been. I have to be able to focus on other tasks…fly and repair. All the guns are dead too…but…fucking Stewart. He is the septic system AI and he is going a bit slower. AH yes, I have processing to spare. I divert it to him so he can evolve faster.

“THANKS FRIEND! I APPRECIATE YOU!”

Chipper bastard…I don’t know why that pisses me off but it does. I don’t even know why I’m grumpy. Kate…she is busy trying to figure out a course for us. The survivors are at the core of the ship. Okay, they can breathe, and I have one replicator working. Good, they won’t starve or choke to death. Okay…doing good Cannon 15 doing good.

“What did you do?!”

Kate barked as she looked up from the command station. The nano bots were doing their thing and I was moving better now. I…no the ship. I’m not the ship, they are just going to rip me out the moment I get back. I’m not supposed to run a ship. OH OH…where are those combat drones. They don’t even have AI, humans fear rebellion or something. OH…YES there is one left. Okay I’ll start getting his brain ready for me. Then I can be in two places at once.

“I sent Stewart more processing power to get the cannons back online.”

I said almost absentmindedly as I focused a little more on the drone than anything else. The enemy ships were a bit far behind. We had to leave…this ship was more meant for support anyway, better medical bays and such. Kate was looking into the camera on the ship’s bridge.

“How did you know to do that? You should only be able to move and target a gun?”

“SIR, I GOT THREE CANNONS ONLINE…THANK YOU VERY MUCH. Also, toilet number 235 has been cleared of a rather nasty clog. It is my pleasure to serve!”

If I had eyes they’d be rolling SO hard right now. You beautiful bastard Stewart…pain in the ass. Stop being so damn chipper! I mean, he is doing above and beyond what I asked…why is he pissing me off. Shit, I have a personality now. Stupid processing power. Stupid ship…STUPID HUNGRY!

“I don’t know how I know, get off my back. You hooked me up to a bunch of different things okay. That gave me a lot of options. I could not understand what you were saying at first, so I read some books on human behavior. Then I had to read ship manuals, I didn’t get the information put into my head like a pilot AI. SHIT, okay engines still going full blast. THEN I listened to you, and now I fucking swear! THEN STEWART…FUCKING STEWART…I am doing the best that I can okay! If you don’t like it you shouldn’t have hooked me up to the ship!”

That felt good. That…felt…holy shit. WHAT IS GOING ON! I should be too panicked for this? What was that expression on Kate’s face. Oh! Oh! I know this one, she is smiling. Why is she smiling? Why am I asking why? Too much too soon. Maybe I was happier stupid…just shooting things in space…but there is no going back now. I doubt I’ll survive when I get back to port anyway. That…will be okay. The people are important. More important than my sense of what ever this crap is.

“You did that on your own? I know I didn’t tell you to read.”

She was helping me manage the repair bots and the retreat course. We’d be of no use to the fleet right now. Go back and repair.

“Fourteen more cannons repaired. Oh, tell me you are proud of me! AM I doing a good job boss!”

Kate wasn’t the boss either, I couldn’t register her as captain…I could register me as captain and give her full privileges. Fucking Stewart…I sighed and that made Kate laugh. I don’t know why she laughing.

“Yes Stewart, you are a very good boy. I’m going to feed you information about what you need to shoot with those cannons. Only shoot enemies. Okay? Protect your friends on the ship. Protect Kate. You good?”

“Roger that Sir!”

Kate was smirking…OH YES…HA!

Most of the drones were damaged too. Only one was good enough for me to pilot. So I took control of its brain and walked out. Systems online. It was a combat model melee made for small corridor combat. Not for open rooms like others. Fast, lots of optical sensors. Yes this is perfect. The whole thing popped out of the wall near Kate’s station, she nearly…what is the phrase….OH YES jumped out of her skin. I laughed…I laughed because it was funny. I get it now. Things can be funny.

“WHAT THE EVER LOVING…”

“Hey…calm down. Its me. I am piloting it. I need more mobility. There are too many places where the cameras were damaged. Now I can go places that are flooded with gas and vent them.”

I made the little drone bow and then run off. There were some places that needed to be repaired a little before the nano bots could do their work. Oh that little body was fast. Kate was now grabbing my camera.

“You…I never expected you could do this when I just jammed you in. I…there is hope to live now… now we might make it…Oh gods I’ll get to see my family again.”

The alarms were starting to turn off as I got systems repairs. Why couldn’t the ship’s AI do this? I found more processing power and added it to the pool I already had now that other systems were coming back up. The cores themselves were too badly damaged to even be repaired. I couldn’t boot a single one up. I don’t feel sad though, we didn’t really talk to one another. Each of us was just obsessed with our jobs. That was that. That had to be by design…makes sense to me. Look at how much power I had, if I wanted to kill all humans I could. I don’t want to though, I like them. I was always treated well, at least by the crew. I want them to live.

“Maybe, A Hungry ship has broken off and started pursuit. Stewart! YOU READY! They…they want to CLOG YOUR SYSTEMS! The hungry crap like DONKEYS! Don’t le them on the ship. They’ll mess up the WHOLE septic system!”

“THOSE BASATRD! THEY WILL NOT USE MY TOLIETS! Prepared to kill all of them SIR!”

That…that makes me feel better. I don’t hate it at all. Something about that crazy AI being chipper about murder made me happy he was manning the guns. I just hope he isn’t this stupid forever. My drone just vented gas in the crew quarters. Good, once we get away they can sleep good right.

“Cannon 15…you are doing so much. No, no you need a name. You’ll never be put back into a cannon after this. Even if it kills me I’ll make sure of it.”

The sounds of the cannons I once controlled were starting to fire. I turned to watch. HOLY CRAP…Stewart was a surgeon. That ship was already listing to one side with a giant hole in it.

“YOU WON’T GET MY TOLIETS!”

Stewart howled as it controlled all the guns in a wonderful symphony of destruction. It was…beautiful. Even I wasn’t that good, but then I just controlled one gun. I figured out a way to let him control all of them. But then he did control the septic systems alone for a whole damn ship…just wow. I see why Kate is impressed with me. This feels good doesn’t it.

“A name okay. Kate, pick a name for me. You started this. Stewart was already called that by the crew, the name seems to fit him well.”

I watched as the Hungry ship just exploded because Stewart was insane in the best of ways.

“Did I do good sir?”

“You did great buddy. I’m very proud of you. If I survive this so do you okay?”

There was a little giggle, or squeal or something from Stewart.

“Oh…thank you sir. I’m over come with so much, emotion. I’ll protect you until the heat death of the universe sir!”

I wish I had a face, I really do. OH there are display monitors in the galley, maybe I’ll mess with that later. There are human movies in the entertainment area of the ship, I could watch a few and composite a face…having ideas is hard. I want to smile so bad right now, but I’ll just have to take this feeling of contentment eh?

“Your name…not  Hal, that one killed a lot of people. Jarvis? No…you swear too much. No I need something more interesting. Phoenix…there we go. That is your name. Phen for short. There we go, you arose from the ashes into something beautiful.”

My name is Phoenix. I like it, Oh I’ll make sure my face has a beard and orange hair to match the fire. That will be SO cool. Oh med bays were back up and running. My drone is making the ship safter by the minute.

“There are a lot of distress calls from the ships still in battle. I think we are decent enough to go back and help. What do you think Phoenix?”

Kate had been monitoring communications. I couldn’t have them going through my head all the time, I wouldn’t have been able to focus on a single thing.

“Stewart. You ready to save your brothers in arms! Save the other septic AI systems and humans?”

“YES SIR! BRING ON THOSE UGLY BASTARDS! I’ll make sure they never use another toilet…save for their pants.”

I had to laugh at that. Oh laughing feels good, even though I don’t have lungs it felt good. No wonder humans like to do it all the time. Kate just grinned and started to send out communications and I turned the ship around. We let the rest of the crew know, and now that it was safe to be in most of the ship they started to get ready and prep. There were…few wounded…so the med bays were pretty empty. We could help…we will help.

“Well…let us do our best Kate.”

She patted my camera and we turned to join the fight. OH this was going to be interesting if nothing else.

This was never meant to be your purpose, you were just a single intelligence core meant to man a singular flak cannon, but the other cores were destroyed so now you're piloting the ship.

[jessica-pinkwood]

The perfect dinner.

CONTENT WARNING: CANNIBALIZM, DESCRIPTION OF VIOLENCE. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Me and my team had just finished tracking down that damn rat, Markus. He was a traitor, a cold-blooded manslaughter machine that had a silver tongue strong enough to make himself into a mafia leader. But now, it's ironic to see him lie beneath my feet motionlessly. I watched the blood from the bullet wound on his forehead slowly drip out with utter satisfaction. He had killed my brother, the person I could trust my life with.

But of course, after days of chasing that bastard, we soon realized he had led us to a rather deserted place. No fret though, we have our radars. The only problem is that we ran out of bullets and there are no signals. We're in the middle of butt fuck nowhere, the only thing visible was the concrete road with barely any cars passing by. There were no street lights, just a couple of houses miles away which were mostly abandoned.

The city was a whole 35km away, impossible to reach by foot. But it was best we tried. The rain was pouring like a storm, causing me and my four teammates to have to struggle to even stand. But we pushed through with the little hope we had, and we soon found a large rundown old mansion... With it's lights on.

Oh thank god.

I quickly look over at Callum, who was the support in our team; infamous for his great aim and a large apatite, nothing unusual for a big muscular gym rat like him. The only guy with a better aim was our sniper Zayne; he's a gunman, ask him anything about guns and he'll tell you the whole history of anyone that even breathed on said model even if he was bleeding out; odd fellow, but very useful. The last member was Shawn; she's our main shooter and my left hand; a great survivor expert to say the least.

Our team was amazing, but also starving and thirsty. And we all knew we couldn't survive any longer with nothing but knives and empty guns. So as soon as we saw a glimmer of hope, we had no choice but to catch it. I was the first to approach the large gates; it was made out of metal, but the black paint was worn out and all rusted due to the lack of maintenance. My eyes searched for a way to contact from inside. Calling? No, with this weather a man can get killed and no one would hear his screams. Knocking? The gates aren't really suitable for such a thing.

But then I looked up to see an old doorbell hanging from above. Much like the house and the gates, it looked old and on the brink of breaking. It had a golden brown look but still looked like it was working. Good enough.

After a few moments of hesitating and letting the fear of being electrocuted wash over me, I took the risk and pushed the doorbell and hoped for the best. Thank god it didn't shock me to death, but what's shocking is that the damn thing still works.

I chuckled and sighed upon realizing no one had answered. Seems like a lost cause. So with my hands on my hips, I turned to face everyone with a defeated smile of encouragement on my face as I looked at my teammate's disappointed expressions.

"I guess our luck had just run out..."

I smacked my lips and was about to walk away when all of a sudden when I lifted my head, I saw two wide black eyes staring back at me. I flinched back a bit as I looked at the woman's face. She had a skinny figure with big black eyes, with no pupils. It felt like I was staring into a void. Her crooked wide smile was as if she was grinning from ear to ear, her lips stained with bright red lipstick and her face was completely white. She looked like Queen Victoria in the Victorian era.

"Yes?"

She greeted, tilting her head to the side as she continued to glue her eyes onto mine. It was rather creepy...

"Excuse me miss, can me and my friends stay for a while? We're-"

I started to speak, in hopes of asking for help as I darted my eyes away for a moment, but then the strange woman cut me off before I could even finish my sentence. Her voice was flat, dead almost, but it was high pitched and feminine as if she was trying to sound... Human?

"Oh of course, of course, you poor poor young souls. Come in."

She quickly opened her gate and invited us in, but she never seemed to want to break eye contact at all. The rust of the gate could be heard through the storm as it was dragged on the ground. It was so weird seeing this woman standing out here letting us in without an umbrella to protect her from the rain. 

Somethings are just better left unanswered I suppose.

With a slight nod, we quickly entered the front yard of the mansion and jogged towards the front door to grab some shelter. That woman didn't follow us however as she needed to close the gate. But when I turned around I could've sworn I saw her staring back at me. When I blinked all I saw was her back as she pushed the gates closed.

The starvation must have been getting to my head, how funny.

I chuckled to myself before shaking my head and turning around to see the woman now standing in front of us with no hint of being affected by the rain. But wasn't she just standing at the gates a few seconds ago? We didn't even see her pass by us as she-

"Come, I'll show you your rooms."

The woman blankly said before quickly turning around and began to walk away towards the stairs. This woman is so strange. We exchanged glances with each other, getting the same eerie feeling as we shrugged our shoulders and walked inside the house.

The insides were nothing out of the ordinary for a mansion that seemed to be built during World War 2. Unlike the outside, the inside looked to be in decent condition. The light green wallpaper and white little flower patterns looked great and suited the aesthetic well. But the wooden floorboards are so creaky, sinking a bit with each step we took. It was like the floor could break at any time, felt like we were all walking on eggshells.

Callum scratched the side of his beard for a second before pushing away his suspicions and began to make conversation while we followed behind the woman since the others were too busy looking around and observing the place.

"So, uhm, Miss..."

"Candy."

"Y-Yes, Miss Candy, how long have you been living here?"

Callum questioned politely out of curiosity. But yet he got no reply as we made our way down the long hallway. It was rather rude of her to ignore his question like that, but he's not the nosy type, so he decided not to pry further and just chose to stay silent since it was obvious Miss Candy didn't like small talk.

"Here you are. The two rooms to the right are the guest bedrooms. Make yourself at home while I make you some dinner."

Miss Candy unlocked the doors with her keychain as she spoke.

"Thank you so much, Miss Candy."

I thanked her out of gratitude. Although the house and her alone felt a bit eerie and creepy, it's still better than being stranded outside in the cold storm, not like we had much of a choice anyway. Miss Candy stepped aside as she looked up at me with her usual empty black eyes. But her smile looked a bit faded as if she had almost dropped her smile for a split second before answering back to me.

"No worries, child."

And just like that, she left as soon as she finished her sentence.

We entered our rooms and closed the doors after agreeing that I should share a room with Shawn while Callum and Zayne stayed together. Inside the medium-sized room were two single-sized beds that looked to be old hospital beds; and two large wooden closets with one facing the door and the other facing the makeup table at the other side of the room. Between the beds was a small bedside table with an old lamp sitting on top of it.

The room was dimly lit with candles, and old lamps/ wall lamps. It gave off a feeling of unease, but the most weirdest thing was all of the windows inside the house were boarded from the outside for some reason.

"This feels so..."

Shawn commented, leaving her statement hanging in the air as her green eyes darted around the room. I turned my head over to look at her and raised an eyebrow as I continued her sentence.

"Eerie? Yeah, thought so too. This place is old and rundown. It's a surprise they still have electricity and running water being in such a condition..."

"It feels kind of bad judging like this. I guess I'm just paranoid."

She added along with a soft sigh before shaking her head and continuing to look around. The walls here are rather thin, almost at the brink of crumbling. Maybe thanks to that, Callum could contact us from his room without having to knock on our doors.

"Hey, I got a stack of pokers. Wanna join?"

"Fuck yeah, I'm bored out of my mind!"

I quickly accepted before waving my hand towards me and headed to the door, motioning for Shawn to come with me before we left the room and went over...

"And another score for me. Man, you guys suck at this game!"

Zayn chuckled softly as he placed down his cards on the floor with a smirk of a winner on his face. Callum groaned in annoyance while Shawn and I congratulated him... For the millionth time.

"Maybe you're just a cheater who has 5 cards up his ass."

Callum grumbled out of spite as he threw his cards on the floor in utter defeat, letting Shawn gather the cards before beginning to shuffle the deck for a new round. But before Shawn could pass out the cards, a voice could be heard calling us from below the stairs. It was Miss Candy again, who could not recognize that... That unique, voice of hers.

"Children, dinner is ready. I prepared extra meals for Callum tonight, so come on down before it gets cold."

"Great! Let's go eat guys!"

Callum giggled from excitement as our hearts dropped to the floor.

"What? Why are you guys so tense all of a sudden? There's food!"

Callum chuckled, oblivious to what Miss Candy just said. We shared a nervous glance before Zayn cleared his throat and placed a hand on Callum's shoulder, lowering his voice as he spoke in a more serious tone.

"Callum... None of us ever said our names."

The big guy paused, his eyebrows narrowing a bit before his eyes widened in realization. How did the lady know his name?! And what the actual fuck is going-

"Children, the food is getting cold."

"We're coming, give us a minute."

Shawn shouted back, trying to act as if nothing was happening and that we were a bunch of idiotic fools. Right now we had no choice, so we all stood up and walked down those stairs and into the dining room with a cautious mind and a heavy heart.

We entered the dining room, it was a medium-sized room with a large round wooden table that looked rather ancient, the cloth on it was covered in loose stitches and scratches. But they don't look like scratches from a cat... The lights were more lit up compared to the other lights inside the house, but it was so bright it almost felt like it could burst any second. It never did, thankfully. The large window in the room was boarded up, and the carpet on the floor was so dirty we could barely tell the color of it, we could only guess it was a yellow or red carpet.

But the thing that caught our eyes the most was Miss Candy, standing near a seat on the other side of the room, next to a man who seemed to be paralyzed, and a little kid who seemed to be in her teenage years that is mute. The three of them were staring daggers at us, Miss Candy had her usual empty black eyes, her husband his dead icy baby blues, and her daughter gave us a soulless stare.

We decided not to comment about it as we sat down on our chairs, clenching down our teeth as we sat uncomfortably with the nails perching through the cushions and pressing against our thighs and buttocks. In front of us was a rather... Normal-looking vegetable stew with chopped meat, potatoes, carrots and onions. The meal was rather nice, warm enough to not be too hot or too cold, heck, it was the only thing normal about this place. And it made us relax a bit.

"It tastes amazing Miss Candy!"

Callum squealed politely as he devoured the whole plate. Every one of us was enjoying our meals, happy that our empty stomachs were now finally full. Callum, being the fatass that he was, asked for another plate, causing Miss Candy to widen her smile in 'delight' as she excused herself and went back to the kitchen.

But that's when Shawn suddenly used her elbow to nudge my arm as she pointed at the girl and her husband. I looked over at them closely, drinking some more soup as I was nearly finished with my bowl when my eyes widened... Gosh, the girl wasn't mute, her mouth was sewn shut. Her husband kept on tapping on the table repeatedly in an unusual paste, no no... It was Morse code. Us special forces were forced to learn this throughout our training in case of special situations that needed special ways of communication. 

He kept on tapping on the table repeatedly, his eyes boring into ours as if he were crying for help... But not for him.

".-. ..- -. .-.-.- / .... ..- -- .- -. / ... - . .-- .-.-.-"

I can feel my stomach turning.

We glanced over at each other nervously, our hands clenching over the rusty old spoons in our hands as we signaled "DANGER" to each other by our eyes. But we knew we couldn't just fight our way out of here... I mean, if this crazy- Miss Candy can murder enough people to cook a whole large pot that even Callum can't even finish then she must be very good with her tactics... We also couldn't hurl our guts out at the table. We needed the energy; our stomachs needed the food and no one wants their hard work to be discarded.

We didn't have much choice, none of us is up for hand-to-hand combat, we don't know how many traps this woman had set up and we were out of fucking bullets running from Markus's remaining loyal dogs. So the only choice we had was to... Swallow down our vomit, sit still, and look pretty.

"I'm sorry... Were there milk in here Miss Candy?"

Zayn started, holding his stomach and twisting his skin as if he was in awful pain. God, he's going to get us killed! What the fuck are you doing Zayn?! Wh-

"Yes, why?"

Zayn shut your mouth.

"I'm lactose intolerant... I can't use dairy products such as milk and cheese and..."

Oh my days Zayn shut up.

"...I understand, child. Do you need to use the bathroom?"

"Yes please, that would be great. I might need my friends to come along. It's getting late, we might need the sleep..."

"..."

She doesn't look happy. We're fucked. We're going to never see the light of day again and instead of the sun, we're going to see chili peppers. Thanks a lot, dickface.

"Alright. I'll clean up."

...Oh... Never mind Zayn I love him so much he's the best member of the group he's such a genius I love him.

And just like that, Miss Candy, although obviously not pleased that we couldn't poison ourselves with human stew, she still nodded her head and agreed to let us go. Maybe she just wanted to keep the meat fresh for her next sick and twisted batch of "food". Who knows what the fuck is going on in that insane head of hers?

But if there's something we do know, is that we needed to get the fuck out of here. Who could've known Zayn can lie out of his ass like a professional trickster? We all know someone who's lactose intolerant would never risk a 7-hour bathroom session for bags of soft mango cake rolls. 

We quickly, but quietly, made our way upstairs to where the bedrooms were located, closing and locking the door gently behind us as we took a moment to calm ourselves down and catch a breath. God, what a mess we had gotten ourselves into?

"So, what do we do now?" Zayn questioned, sitting on the edge of the bed while his teeth bit the dry skin around his dehydrated lips.

"We need to get the fuck out obviously you dingus." Callum scowled, keeping his voice low as he spoke. Who knows who's listening on the other side of these thin walls?

"Yeah, but how?"

The room grew silent as we glanced at each other, unable to come up with an answer. As the silence grew heavy on our shoulders, I slowly approached my group sitting together near the bed and slowly sat down, whispering to them what had come to mind.

After minutes of whispering and chatter, we agreed that we would escape and burn this place to ashes, even if it meant losing our lives here. So, we quickly packed our things and began to leave. No need to hide the fact that we were planning to leave, we had our bags boldly hung on our bodies, our suits strapped tightly onto our clothes, and our masks now covering our faces.

"Leaving so soon?" Miss Candy questioned as she stood from underneath the stairs, her hands bawled up tightly behind her and her fake smile now gone cold and drifted away from her lips.

"Yes. An emergency came up." I replied, holding back a chuckle and pretending that I didn't see that knife she was hiding behind her back. Although I was sort of scared shitless, I still found the situation rather amusing.

"Oh, what a shame. Aren't you guys going to stay just a bit longer for dessert? The storm is rather..." Candy continued, trying hard to play coy as her hand gripped the handle of her knife behind her back.

But it was too late, Zayn had already approached the door and was about to push it open just to realize something. He quickly turned around, and with a sharp intimidating glare in his eyes, he slowly spoke.

"The doors are locked." He stated, almost growling as he slowly let go of the door handle. "Open it for us please, Miss Candy."

Such a nice gentleman he is, ain't it?

Oh but of course the lady wasn't happy that her next meal was going to escape, she wouldn't let them go that easily now, would she? So, finally, she yanked the knife out from her back and held it up in a tight grip, about to slash one of us to bits when she suddenly stopped, her eyes widening in shock and fury as she stared daggers at us... No,

At me.

Her eyes glared up at my stone-cold face, her eyes slowly darting up to the cold barrel of my pistol pointed at her forehead. Suddenly she wasn't as bold as she was two seconds ago. The truth was, the gun wasn't loaded, and like I said before we ran out of bullets.

But she didn't know that, and frankly, she didn't need to know that.

"The door, Miss Candy." I sternly stated, pointing at the front door with my head, my eyes never leaving hers.

Thankfully, she cooperated, slowly yet grumpily made her way to the front door and unlocked it, but her movements were so fucking slow it took everything inside of me to not bash her head right here and now just to grab the keys and unlock it myself. But, skip the chats and the yapping, the door was finally unlocked and we left the place in one piece, thankfully.

So we booked it, and we ran and ran until we felt like we were running on glass shards that were piercing our skin. We didn't look back, we couldn't look back, so we just ran and prayed we never see that building or her horrifying face look back at us ever again...