#your dead to me hit so hard he faked his death

[free-for-all-fics]

So I binge watched Squid Game season 2 a couple days ago and the brainrot is back in full force for The Recruiter and The Front Man. So here’s some more Squid Game prompts! Warning: These prompts are centered around Season 2 and contain spoilers! Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of these and I’d love to read it! 🔴🔺🟥

1. You knew The Recruiter when he was younger, back before he worked in the games and was removing and burning up the bodies of countless people. He was like the game players and homeless people at one point in his life, having hit rock bottom. His actions in the park are an expression of self-hatred and an attempt to set himself apart from them. The Recruiter has nothing but contempt to people who choose the lottery and is more than happy to stomp the bread just to spite them, but he happens to at least approve the people who pick the bread.

“These things aren’t human. They’re just trash, uterrly useless in this world.” He kept telling himself that and worked hard for a few years. Then they gave him a gun. It felt pretty good. Like his existence was acknowledged for the first time in his life. He doesn’t know which year it was but one day he was about to shoot a man who had lost a game. The guy seemed familiar. His dad. His dad was suddenly standing right in front of him. He was in tears, desperately begging him to spare his life. He shot him right in the middle of his forehead, and realized, “Ah. I’m cut out for this job.”

He had absolutely no qualms about shooting his own father dead. He even admits that when he killed his father in the games, he realized he was totally the type for his job, mentioning no remorse or guilt. But what if him shooting his own father proved his loyalty to the people he worked for and so they rewarded him by making him a recruiter and letting him keep you, the love of his life or object of obsession from his past life in the outside world. Asking the Host and his higher ups for a companion is just one thing, but it’s a big thing, and he’s scared to death that he will never see you again once he asks. Most of the staff are ruthless killers motivated by profit, but out of all of them, The Recruiter is one of the few who seems genuinely psychopathic, his businesslike attitude masking a vicious sadist who revels in humiliation, torture, and murder.

Still, it’s nothing short of a miracle in his mind that he’s allowed to have you. You’re just living your life, but then you get kidnapped and brought to an undisclosed location and while the room you’re in is admittedly very nice, you’re terrified. Turns out your kidnapper is your childhood best friend or college sweetheart who you lost touch with years ago when he went into the games. To you, he ghosted you or went missing and you were never able to find him. His own family hadn’t heard from him and didn’t know where he was. He’d go so far to keep you that he’d fake your death. He spoils you rotten but he also punishes you if you misbehave or act out of line. Treats you like a princess, fucks you like a whore kind of thing. He doesn’t keep around those dog bone shaped gags and possibly even sex toys or buy you nice lingerie and jewelry for nothing. He doesn’t want to break you as you’re his favorite toy, but he’ll do what it takes to properly train you until you learn to accept your place as his lover. His amiable facade comes down and it turns out he's psychotic and it frightens you but a part of him gets off on your fear. You see yourself as a prisoner, but he insists it doesn’t have to be that way if you just relax and love him back and be a good girl. You loved him once, didn’t you? You were his only friend. The only woman he’s ever loved. How hard can it possibly be to love him again? He’s the only one who can protect you and love you now. Everyone else thinks you’re dead.

He’d go so far as to kill anyone who stands in his way of having you, even your significant other if you have one or your family and friends. The Recruiter absolutely enjoys what he does to his victims, especially during the Russian Roulette game. You have no one else to turn to for comfort or conversation besides him. A part of him hates it when you cry but the other part of him is turned on by your tears and the fear in your eyes. He doesn’t have a god complex, more like a death complex. He’s given himself over completely to his philosophy of death. He believes he’s Death incarnated into a man with how people’s lives are in his hands, and that includes yours. And aren’t there so many famous artworks of Death and His Maiden? Why shouldn’t he be able to keep you as his?

If he was your first ever sexual partner, he’d make for damn sure he’s the only one through silently and stealthily arranging for your other potential partners to die in tragic “accidents” or go missing with their bodies never found. Just like he’s dedicated himself to the games, he’s dedicated himself to proving he’s worthy of you everyday by protecting you and giving you everything you ask for - except real freedom, of course. He can only give you semblances of freedom by allowing you outside under heavy guard watch or his watch. You can’t go anywhere alone anymore. You can’t have a cell phone that connects to the internet (or if you are allowed the internet, you’re only given access to certain websites while the rest are blocked) or any phone numbers except his. He’s practically isolated you.

2. Going off the idea of what if you knew The Recruiter back when he was younger and working in the games: Alongside him, you’re also a pink guard. You’re one of, if not the only female guard. The Recruiter is the first to find out that you’re a woman despite the mask covering your face, the voice modulator, and the suit covering your body. You spend a lot of time together when you have to shoot the eliminated players and then remove and burn the bodies. You use a separate channel on your walkie-talkies to have private conversations while you’re on a job during the games or to talk from your separate dorms after the day’s work is done. When other male guards try to attack or sexually assault you in your room for getting in the way of their illegal organ harvesting side hustle due to you shooting the bodies in the heart or head to ensure the players die quickly and make the organs unusable, he comes to your rescue when he hears the struggle over the walkie when you manage to press the button. He practically breaks your door down and takes the guards out with his bare hands or a random object in your room. He’s so strong and skilled he doesn’t even need to use a gun or a knife (in the show he subdued two men just with his briefcase). You watch as he subdues both guards, knocking them out with ease. He would’ve loved to kill them in that moment, but he doesn’t have the right to do that. He can only report the incident to the Captain/In-Ho. Pink guards cannot kill other pink guards. They’re only permitted to kill players. Only the Captain can kill pink guards.

After interrogating them and reviewing the security footage, In-ho kills the guards who attacked you and puts an end to the organ harvesting for that year by killing all of the guards operating it. Whether they sell off organs from the dead or devour them, he doesn’t give a damn. However, the most crucial element of this place is equality. Everyone is equal in these games, including guards. Players compete in a fair game under the same conditions. Guards work under the same conditions. They are to follow the instructions they are given. There is a principle to these games. And those guards that attacked you for being a woman and doing your job and the guards operating the organ harvesting side hustle broke that principle.

Later, after work is done for the day and guards are ordered to return to their rooms, The Recruiter sneaks into yours so that the two of you can have sex. When he saw you getting attacked, he wanted more than anything to rush to your side and comfort you and hold your hand and ride his adrenaline-filled high by having sex with you after subduing the guards, but duty called so he couldn’t. When In-ho is overlooking the security cameras and notices The Recruiter in your room instead of his own with both of your masks off, locked in a heavy make out session while he has you lifted in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangling in and pulling his hair while his hands cup under your thighs to hold you up against the wall, your pink jumpsuits half way unzipped, he changes the cameras to play back earlier footage of both you and him so that it looks like you’re alone in your rooms so his higher ups won’t suspect anything while you inevitably do whatever it is you want to do. The Recruiter and you have proven your loyalty. You both deserve a reward. As long as you’re both back in your own rooms by morning call, he doesn’t care.

After that, The Recruiter shoots his own father dead after he fails a game. You and he work your way up to becoming the recruiters you are now, possibly even posing as a friendly married couple to get vulnerable people to trust you more (even better if you’re actually married as it makes the ruse more convincing). You do love each other in your own way, but you also are well aware that love makes people incredibly easy to manipulate and you use that to your advantage in your line of work. Together you prey on people who are hanging by a thread and are the best performing recruiters the games have ever had. In the privacy of your home, you listen to opera music, share drinks, and get down to all kinds of kinky shit when you find yourselves in the mood. You take turns when it comes to who’s dominant and who’s submissive, and your sex games often include bondage, roleplay, pain, and blood. And sometimes the blood isn’t even yours or his. When people get nosy for their too damn good, you and/or he have to take care of that.

3. Underneath the smiling facade, The Recruiter is little more than a small fry. When Gi-hun repeatedly calls him a lapdog and considers him nothing compared to whoever he works for, it gets under his skin, although he doesn't have a complete breakdown over it. Getting reminded of this repeatedly is part of why The Recruiter eventually shoots himself in the chin. But let’s pretend The Recruiter doesn’t commit suicide. Instead of being strictly dominant or strictly submissive, this man is a switch. While he loves to be in control sometimes and use your body however he wants, there’s also times when it’s you who’s the dominant one. You dress up and behave as a dominatrix while you put a mask over his face to blindfold him, gag him with the bone shaped gags and tie him up, doing to him whatever you want and calling him your dog. Your good boy. He runs, barks, wags his tail, does whatever you, his mistress, says and you reward him with praise, treats, etc. You do the same thing when it’s his turn to be the master and for you to be his good girl, his bitch. This man would probably be into puppy play whether it’s you who’s the puppy or him. And yeah that would probably include either of you being locked in a human sized cage or an actual dog kennel as punishment for whenever you misbehave. You’d take turns between who’s holding the leash and who’s on it on all fours, etc. The sex acts you do together, this dominatrix and roleplay arrangement you have, it’s like therapy for him in a way. A way for him to reclaim being called a dog when he was young and poor and turning it into something good. Even if it’s dehumanizing at times. The humiliation and the sadism is part of what turns you both on. Of course you’d have a safe word, aftercare, and all of that. But let’s be real: He’s just as skilled as you are at taking orders, deepthroating objects, and being penetrated.

4. Inspired by the film “The Odds”: You join an underground game of pain endurance, hoping to win the cash prize of one billion won. But it’s not the traditional squid games where you’re competing with other players in person. This is something different. This is the squid games before the squid games became what it is today. Instead, you’re isolated in a windowless room with little more than a table, a couple of chairs, a cot to sleep in and a toilet to shit in. It’s like a prison almost. Whenever you’re given a shower, if ever, you’re heavily sedated so you don’t lash out against the workers bathing you. The Recruiter is one of many who are assigned to players to keep them company, explain the rules of each game, and oversee their progress. Each player has their own recruiter assigned to them and The Recruiter we’re familiar with in the show is the one assigned to you. You have nobody else but him to keep you company. You don’t ever see anyone, don’t ever hear anyone except for him. He looks awfully familiar and you have a strong feeling you’ve met him before, that you know him from somewhere. Throughout the course of the week that you’re there, you’re determined to figure out how you know him. In the meantime, you flirt with each other, playfully talk about getting married and having a house and kids when you get out.

But at some point during the course of the games, the playfulness erodes and The Recruiter turns dead serious, revealing that he’s so in love with you that it’s like an unhinged obsession. Maybe you choosing to come here was in actuality you being lured into a trap, all a part of his elaborate plan to finally get you right where he wants you to fulfill his sick and twisted romantic and sexual fantasies. Maybe before that, he paid sex workers and strangers who looked like you to sleep with him, just to keep him satiated so he wouldn’t snap and kidnap you before the time was right. He might’ve gone so far as to call them by your name and become really scary real fast if they tried to correct him. The things he did to those women might’ve been so bad that they were unspeakable. But he paid good hush money to keep them quiet. And if that didn’t work, a bullet always did. But sleeping with all those women could never live up to the real thing. Nobody watching you now would be able to hear you nor would they care if he had sex with you in between games. He’s done it before with desperate female players who wanted to stay alive a little longer. And if they performed sexual favors for him as he asked - more like ordered them to do - Who is he to deny pretty women an extra five minutes of being allowed to breathe before he pulls the trigger? A deal is a deal and he’s a businessman.

He’s a man of do the wrong thing, yield rewards. To him, he’d feel like he’s entitled to your love and your body after all he went through in his life to get to this point. He’s worked his way up from a nobody who just disposed of and burned bodies, then they gave him a gun, then he became a recruiter. One of the best if not the best in the company. He’d kill for you. Even if you don’t ask him to. Even if you plead with him not to do anything and let it go. But he’s also so unhinged he might even hurt or kill you if you fail to live up to his deluded fantasies. If he does hurt you, he’d do the classic, “Look what you made me do! I didn’t want to have to do that. I didn’t want to hurt you but you gave me no choice so this is all your fault and not mine,” shtick.

You soon discover the game's rigged, and your real opponent is The Recruiter - a sadistic psychopath, who works for the Host and the organizers of the game and knows everything about you. He knows why you’re here and about your child, bringing them up to keep you motivated to continue before you ever mention them to him. He’s just one of many of a network of people ranging from VIPs to guards who are part of this game. The way you see it, you have three choices: Provoke The Recruiter into killing you if you don’t die from the games before then, give into The Recruiter’s sexual advances to survive without playing all of the games and join him, becoming his lover/wife and possibly a Recruiter yourself, or survive through all of the games and kill The Recruiter. He keeps saying you can leave at any point but you realize over time that this is a lie and if you try to leave, you’ll be shot dead either by him or one of the guards.

(Below is some dialogue from the movie with some minor changes to showcase how Recruiter coded this scenario is.)

~

“So, yes, it is necessary to keep the location a secret due to the legal technicalities of the game. You know the rules, right?”

“Yup, but you can tell me again, Mr...”

“No names. It works better for me if we keep things less personal, you know?”

“Right. Kind of like a manager-employee relationship. I get it.”

“If you like. Anyway, the game, there are 19 other players at 19 other locations just like this.”

“In this city?”

“All over the country. There's a clearing house that receives and broadcasts the signal to select clientele. The same clearing house acts as a broker for all wages concerning the game.” He puts in his earpiece and presses a button. “Receiving end, online? Okay. Yeah, just a couple minutes, we'll get started.” He sits across from you at the table.

“Have you done this a lot?”

“A few times, yeah. There are five preliminary rounds followed by the finalist round. If you leave at any point during the preliminary rounds, you will leave with zero prize money.”

“I won't quit.”

“All players who get to the finalist round are committed to the game and may not leave.”

“I said I won't quit.”

“Okay. Now, the finalists will continue to play until there's only one player left. That winner will receive the money.”

“Have you ever hosted a winner?”

“Let's not worry about that. You just stay focused.”

“It's weird that people would bet on something like this.”

“Do you know any real gamblers? Real gamblers will make odds on anything.”

“And the prize money, it's a lot?”

“Some people think so.”

“I heard it was a billion won.”

“Where'd you hear that?”

“Same place I heard about the game.”

“Hm. That's correct, and the funds will be deposited in the winner's account.”

“They must pay you a lot. That's why you're here, right?”

“I'm here for the same reason as you.”

“I doubt that.”

“Now it's almost time.” He takes a candle out of his briefcase and sets it on the table.

“I thought there was gonna be a gun.”

“Not yet.”

“Have I met you before?”

He listens to his device. “Congratulations, your drug test came back clean.”

“Of course it did.”

“I'm sorry, we have to check. Some players come in high, performance enhancing drugs, so to speak.”

“Well, drugs are where you go when you can't stand the pain anymore.”

“Where do you go, if you don't have drugs?”

“I guess we'll find out.”

He listens to his device. “Hm. Yes? We're good. You're good? Okay, standing by.”

“I know that they can see us, but can they...”

“Hear us? No. Say what you want. Your secrets are safe with me.”

“I don't have any secrets.”

“Everyone has secrets.”

“No, all my shit's pretty much out in the open.”

“All the shit you know about.”

“I think I know my shit pretty well.”

“This game has a way of illuminating a person.” He lights the candle.

“Oh, that's nice. You gonna put on some mood music? I'll take the Chardonnay.”

“So here's what's gonna happen, round one, on my signal, you, along with 19 other players, will hold your hand over the candle and keep it there. When three people have removed their hand, the round is over. Those players are out of the game. Everyone else will advance to the next round. Understand? Hello?”

“Yeah, I just... I heard it was different.”

“Used to be. They like to change things up, keep it exciting. You don't have to do this. It's still not too late to leave.”

“I've got nowhere else to be.”

“How about a home?”

“I messed that up.”

“You must have family somewhere. Everyone has family.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Kids?”

“No.”

“But if you did, how would you feel if someone took him or her away from you?”

“I guess I wouldn't like it.”

“And how would you feel knowing that he or she should've been taken away from you...that she...he, was better off...and that maybe now the only thing to do is to win a big pile of money so that he or she could have the kind of life that he or she deserves?”

“Hm. I don't think I'd ever risk my life over a pile of money.”

“Well, that's all mine's good for at this point.”

“Hey, listen. Look at me. We're in this together, you and me. I'm rooting for you, you understand? So just settle in. We'll do this. Word of advice, this is as much a mental game as anything else, so just keep that in mind if you really want to see this through to the end.”

“I'm gonna hear the words ‘you win’, or I'm not gonna hear anything at all.”

“That's it. Visualize success, that's good.”

“You say that to all your players?”

“Just the ones that seem to need it.”

“Have you ever played, from my side?”

“Let's get through round one, then we'll talk. We're about to begin. Last chance before the pain starts.”

“The pain started a long time ago.”

~

Round One

You hold your hand over the candle, while The Recruiter encourages you the whole time.

“That's it. Keep going. You can do this. Come on. Just breathe. Focus on breathing. You can do this. Come on. Just breathe. Okay, focus on breathing. Focus on breathing. Another player's out. Just one more player. Just one more player has to quit. Number three's out! You made it. You did it. Let me see. Come on.” He takes out a first aid kit from his briefcase and treats your wound. “So, we made a deal, and no, I haven't played the game from your side of the table.”

“How many?”

“How many what?”

“How many times have you done this?”

“14.”

“And how many of those players won?”

“You don't want to know.” A long pause before he finally answers, “None of them. Most players quit before the final round.”

“But some of them made it.”

“I've seen two men and three women blow their brains out.”

“You're just a little bad luck charm, aren't you? Did you ask the other players why they did it?”

“Same reason as you, the money.”

“Same reason as everyone I'm playing against now?”

“I wouldn't worry about the other players.”

“I just want to know who my competition is.”

“Most games, you're competing against someone, right? But in this game, you can't affect the other players. Can they make you leave this room? Who can?”

“You could try.”

“Okay, take me out. Who does that leave? That's right, you. And that's what they're betting on, how much you can take.”

“I'll take whatever you throw at me.”

“It won't be me throwing it at you.”

“So there is someone else here.”

“I'm a facilitator. The challenges for each round, they've been chosen by the organizers.”

“So it's not you. You're just doing their dirty work for them.”

“I didn't make you come here. I didn't make you sit there. I didn't force you to put your hand over a candle. You think I enjoy watching you do this? You think I like watching people hurt themselves? Man. Things I've seen, you don't forget it, you know?”

“Then why do you keep doing it?”

“You've never done something you knew wasn't good for you? Sit down. We're on the same side. That's the thing about this game, it...” He’s interrupted by information coming through his earpiece. “Round two, ready.”

“The thing about this game?”

“What?”

“You were just about to say ‘the thing about this game.’”

“The thing about this game is that it changes you.”

“Good?”

“I don't know how good it's been for me.”

“Maybe you've been playing from the wrong side of the table. Are you sure we haven't met before?”

“It's time.”

~

Round Two

“Round two. Players will put their bare right foot inside the box. The three that remove their feet lose. The rest move onto the next round.”

“And there's something in the box?”

“Yes.”

“And you don't know what it is?”

“No.”

Something from inside the box moves and makes a noise, causing you to jump.

“Hey, hey. It's okay.”

“What's in there?”

“I don't know.”

“That's bullshit.”

“They don't tell us.”

“You said that you have done this before.”

“It's different every time. It's probably not as bad as you think.”

“Fuck it, I'm out of here.”

“Now wait. What about your child?”

“Why do you care? You get paid anyway, I assume.”

He removes his ear piece so the organizers won’t hear what he says to you next. “Are you afraid of rats?”

“What?”

“Are you afraid of rats?” He puts his earpiece back in. “You need to decide, soon. One player just dropped out. That just leaves two for elimination.”

“This is insane.” You remove your shoe and sock. “So it's just in there waiting for me to put my foot in?”

“There's a separation barrier. When I get the signal, I remove it.”

“How fun for you.”

“I'm right here with you.”

“That's a comfort.”

“No, I mean it, okay? I'll help you.”

“You better.”

“It's almost time.”

“I must be crazy.”

You put your foot in the box.

“You got this.”

“I got this.”

“I mean, nothing's gonna happen. Oh, god, it's moving. It keeps moving.”

“Breathe. Mm-hm.”

“It's touching me, it's touching me. It's on me. It's off, it's off, it's off. Oh, fuck!”

“Think something else, okay? Don't think about this.”

“Oh, God, ow, ow, ow! It's back on me.”

“Think of something else. Okay, think of something else, don't think about this.”

“Oh, shit. I can't do this.”

“You can, yes, you can.”

“Ow, it's biting me! It's biting me.”

“No, it's not... One player's out, okay? That just leaves one more left.”

“Ow! Ow, it's eating me!”

“Look at me, look at me! I'm right here with you. Do it for me. Say it. Say it!”

“Do it for you. Do it for you.”

“Good. Again.”

“Do it for you.”

“Good. Again.”

“Do it for you. Do it for you. Do it for you. Do it for you. Do it for you. Do it for you. Do it for you.”

“That's it! It's over. It's over.”

You remove your bleeding foot from the box and cry in The Recruiter’s arms as he holds you.

~

He’s wrapping your foot with fresh white gauze. “Don't look. Okay.” He kisses your bandaged foot. “I kissed your boo-boo.”

You have some time to kill while you and he wait for the next game. He gives you a bottle of water. You need to stay hydrated. Lots of water.

“Gonna figure out where I know you from.”

“Well, good luck. Okay, let's say you don't quit.”

“I won't.”

“Right, you won't. Let's say you make it. You've already told me what you're gonna do for your child. What are you gonna do for you? If you really think you're gonna make it through, you should have a plan.”

“Yeah, well, I'm not really big on plans.”

“No, seriously, instead of giving your child the money, why don't you take them somewhere instead? Find a nice quiet place, bring along their daddy.”

“You had me going till you mentioned that asshole.”

“Okay, not him, a nice guy.”

“Why is it that everyone thinks that if a woman has problems, a man is somehow the answer?”

“You don't believe in love?”

“Maybe some people just aren't meant for it. Maybe they're just not built...for it.”

“Maybe some people haven't met the right guy.”

“And that's you? From bad luck charm to Mr. Right?”

“You could do worse.”

“Okay. All right. So say it is you, Prince Charming, man of my dreams, we're living together.”

“Mm-hm, married.”

“Really?”

“I don't do that cohabitation shit. You either commit or you get out.”

“And that's you? Mr. Commitment?”

“Damn straight.”

“So, is this a proposal?”

“I guess it is.”

“Well, either it is or it isn't.”

“It is.”

“Sweep me up my feet, why don't you?”

“You don't find this place romantic? So, we're in our home...”

“I didn't say yes.”

“You playing hard to get?”

“No. Yes. Maybe. A little. I mean, come on, we just started dating. How do I know you're not just marrying me for my money?”

“What if I don't need your money? What if I already have money?”

“Great, then let's get outta here. I don't have to do this anymore.”

“Well, then again, maybe I don't have that much money.”

“Okay, so, no money. Why should I say yes?”

“Because, deep down inside, you believe in love too. So, what's it gonna be?”

“How about we get through the next round, then I'll tell you.”

“You are playing hard to get. Ready for round three.”

~

Round Three

“What the fuck is it? Or should I ask what goes in it?”

“Your other foot. We go till three players drop out. You can do this.”

“Have you ever done this one before?”

“No. This is new territory for me. They're telling me we need to get ready.”

“Should I sit or stand?”

“Whatever you prefer. We're ready.”

“I don't suppose anybody's dropped out yet. Just wait.”

“Okay. Round three, turn one. I'm sorry.”

“That feels as bad as it looks.”

“All players are still in. Second turn. Hey, hey, hey, hey. Do it for me, remember?”

“Wait, wait for me. Wait.”

“Turn number three.”

You pass out from the pain. You wake up to his voice.

“Player three has quit.”

~

He wraps up your other foot. “There. All better.”

“You’re pretty good at that.”

“One of my many talents.”

“Nine players are out by my count.”

“You're knocking them down. So...what about the answer now?”

“The answer to what?”

“Are we gonna do it, when all this is over? Are we gonna tie the knot?”

“Sure.”

“Well, then. Well, then how about a kiss for your fiancé?”

He kisses you. While he does, he slips a pill into your hand. “It's for the pain. Don't let them see,” he whispers into your ear. “Well, passed the halfway point.”

“Yeah, after this, marriage should be easy.”

“Yeah. Maybe every couple should go through something like this.”

“It's a great story to tell the grandkids.”

“Grandkids? We haven't even gone on the honeymoon.”

“Please, honeymoon.”

“Why not? Must be somewhere you want to go. Vegas, Paris, Costa Rica?”

“Not really.”

“Come on, nothing? Nothing interests you? And afterwards, when we get back to our apartment in the city...”

“In our house in the country.”

“Country's boring.”

“Can't have horses in the city.”

“Horses? More than one?”

“You can't have just one horse.”

“I'm not shoveling horse shit.”

“Fine, I want a divorce.”

“On what grounds?”

“Irreconcilable differences.”

“Okay, fine. A house in the country with horses.”

“Wow, what a pushover.”

“What can I say? I'm in love.”

You lay down on the ground with him, side by side, staring up at the ceiling.

His hands are behind his head. “You know, you can rest in that house in the woods.”

“Then I'd sleep for a week.”

“And after you wake up?”

“I don't know, maybe plant a garden.”

“What do you know about gardens?”

“As much as I know about anything else, I guess.”

“You think you could keep a bunch of plants alive?”

“What about you, mister? You're just gonna live off my money?”

He sits up. “There's lots of stuff I can do.” He gets up off the ground.

“I didn't mean anything by it.”

“I know what you meant.”

“Come on, I was just joking.”

“Sounded like an insult.”

“Why would I insult you? You're the only friend that I have.”

“That's true. Standing by.”

“God, can't they just give it a minute?”

“I know, like, what are they in a hurry for? They'll make their money.”

“Have you met them, the people running this?”

“A couple. They're not like what you think.”

“I think they're a bunch of weirdos who get off watching sick shit.”

“That's not it, at all. They're more like researchers of human behavior, and this is the ultimate laboratory.”

“Come on.”

“No, seriously, how do you think they have the money to fund an operation like this? They get to bet on human behavior every day, and win. Of course they'd be interested in a game like this.”

“We're just pawns to them. I doubt they even see us as people at all.”

“But it doesn't really matter what they think though, does it? And anyway, you should be grateful they've even given you this opportunity. If you weren't here, where would you be?” He sits on the table and slides his body over to you. “On the street, in a crack house sucking dick for a fix until your looks rot away and your teeth fall out? Where would your child be? In a group home getting daily beat downs from all the other toss aways with fuck-ups for parents. You know, you should be thanking the people who created this game, and you should be thanking me. This is the best opportunity for someone who screwed up all their other options.”

“Well, I'll be sure to send them thank you notes later.”

He suddenly smiles. “Look at that, our first fight. Come on, I was just playing. Let's get back to our house.”

“Maybe later.”

“Time’s up.”

~

Round Four

“How long can you hold your breath? It's a simple question, really. How long can you hold your breath?”

“I don't know.”

“Round four is easy. You just have to hold your breath.”

“I just have to hold my breath?”

“Yeah, well, that is while I'm holding your head underwater. You don't have a fear of drowning, do you? Hydrophobia, I think it's called. 'Cause if you did, this will be pretty tough.” He takes a bullet out of his pocket. “Bite on this. I'm kidding, just hold onto it. Jeez. Here's what's gonna happen, you're gonna face the tank, and when the time comes, I'm gonna hold your head under the water. You... You hold your arm out. If you want me to let you up, you just let go of the bullet. See? First three players to let go are out. Everyone else stays. You trust me, right? Well, you should, we're married.”

“I guess.”

“You guess? What do you mean you guess? You wouldn't marry somebody you don't trust, would you? Good. You know, it's good that you trust me 'cause that way you know that when it's time when everyone drops out, I won't just keep your head under the water. Oh. Looks like we have someone afraid of drowning. Our first dropout. You're not gonna drop out, right?”

“Right.”

“Because you want that house in the country, and you trust me, right?”

“Right.”

“Say it.”

“I trust you.”

“And you love me. Say it.”

“I love you.”

“Oh.” He tucks your hair behind your ear. “Whoops. Looks like we got another dropout. Okay, we got to get this thing going before we lose any more. Deep breaths. When the third player quits, I'll let you up. Get ready. On the count of three. One. Two. Three.”

While your head is underwater, you dissociate and experience flashbacks of your life before this, of your child. “I love you.” You hear their voice say. That’s the last thing you see before The Recruiter pulls you back up as you cough and move your wet hair out of your face.

“I thought you were gone! Jesus, why didn't you let go of the bullet?”

“I swallowed it. Only way to make sure that I didn't drop it.”

The Recruiter gives you a towel, admittedly impressed.

~

“You know, with a little effort you could be a very attractive woman.”

“What am I supposed to say to that?”

“Well, when someone compliments you, it's polite to thank 'em.”

“Thank you.”

“How many guys have you dated?”

“How's that any of your business?”

“Well, if we're gonna be married, it's something a husband should know. Come on.”

“Come on, what?”

“How many?”

“I don't know.”

“That many?”

“Do you want to know how many I've dated, or how many I've fucked? Because I didn't keep count, but it was a lot. And sometimes I didn't even know their names.”

“Now why do I get the feeling that you're saying this just to hurt me?”

“You're sick in the head.”

“I bet you were a real looker. I bet the boys couldn't keep their hands off you. Hey, how old were you when you did it the first time? Sweet 16, 15? Yeah. You were an early bloomer.” He cups your breast and you instinctively slap him. He slaps you back, harder. “I'm sorry, but you should not have made me do that.”

“You know, you can't do whatever the fuck you want.”

“Come on, don't be like that. Let's get back to how it was before. And, you know, to tell you the truth, I've been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“You can't do whatever it is that you want.”

“Who are you kidding? Like you didn't want me to.”

“What?”

“Look, if you didn't want me to do that, why are you still here? You could've left at any time.”

“I’m here for the game, that's all.”

“Maybe this is part of it. You ever think about that?”

“No.”

“No? Well, of course it is. Why else would you be here?”

“For my child.”

“No!” He slams his hand on the table. “Don't give me that shit. No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We alone walk the path. The Buddha said that. He was a smart guy, everyone says so. You put yourself here. You decided to stay 'cause you know that we belong together.”

“I didn't ask for any of this.”

“Why else are you here? Look, you could've gone any time. There's the door. It's always been there. Go on. Go on if this is so wrong. Nobody's stopping you. You won't go, because you know you belong here. You deserve this. Your whole life has been a long, long path that's led you to me.” He grabs your face and forcefully kisses you while you sob. At that moment, a guard walks in with a long bag containing something for the next game, causing him to move away and break the kiss. “We're on a schedule. You might want to reconsider. This might be your last chance.”

“For what?”

“To make love as a whole person. Round five. Here's where you really start to leave some skin in the game, so to speak.” He opens the bag, revealing a red hot branding iron. “It's not that bad, really. The Yakuza, you know the Yakuza, right? Japanese mafia, they do this kind of thing all the time. When they've screwed up, they remove body parts. It’s how they apologize for... Oh, forget it. Just take my word for it, you're not the first, you won't be the last, unless you want to leave. You go through with this, you won't be the same. Some cultures would consider you heavily scarred. Personally, I think you'll be plenty serviceable, but, you know.... If you're afraid of the pain, I can give you another Oxy.”

You take the Oxy that he gave you out of your pocket and set it on the table. He quickly swipes it off the table and puts it in pocket so the organizers don’t see.

“Jesus! Suit yourself. After this round, you'll probably be a freak, probably have a limp, from your legs being burned so much. Who will want to fuck you then?”

“I’m sure as long as I have all my lady parts, any sick fuck like you will.”

He pulls out protective gloves from the bag and puts them on. He takes hold of the branding rod.

“We're ready. Scoot your chair forward and remove your pants.”

You do as instructed, not letting yourself feel embarrassed for being sat half naked in front of him.

~

Round Five

Your ears ring from all the pain you’ve suffered so far. The skin on your thighs is burning still, your once flawless skin now marred with dark patches. Luckily the brand isn’t engraved with anything, but you know The Recruiter still gets a sick joy out of branding you. Like he thinks doing so means he owns you. Still, The Recruiter admits to you that he’s impressed with how many burns you’ve been able to endure so far. Some turns he held the branding iron to your skin longer than others, making the coloration in your skin vary. As the rounds progressed, you moved up from your thighs to one of your arms.

“Well, it's about time now. Turn seven. After this, your wrist will hurt so bad you won't be able to pull the trigger with your left hand. That career in trick shooting, it's out. Go on, get ready. You know, think about it, you don't really use your left arm much anyway. It's a right-handed world, you know?”

You’re whimpering and sobbing from the pain. Despite how difficult it is, you get up from your chair and walk away. You stand in front of the door.

“You're about to lose. You go through that door, all of this would've been for nothing. Is that what you want?”

You knock on the door.

“Wait! Three players have all just dropped out. You made it. Don't do it.”

“I have to pee.”

A masked guard opens the door and escorts you to the bathroom. He’s standing there the whole time, watching you impassively while you wash your hands and have an emotional breakdown in the corner. You stare at yourself in the mirror and gradually calm down, your resolve hardening as you think about your child. You hold a middle finger up in the mirror and pretend you’re giving it to The Recruiter.

~

When you make it back to the room, The Recruiter is sat in a chair, holding your discarded underwear in his hand. At some point during the game, it was too painful to wear them when the fabric brushed against the burns on your upper thighs.

“You mind? I thought I'd hold onto these. You know, something to remind me of our time together. What? Like you're not gonna use 'em. I’ll buy you much nicer lingerie to wear for me when this is over.” He tucks your underwear into his inner suit jacket pocket. “Well, sit if you're gonna. You know, I'll tell you something. I knew from the moment I saw you that you'd go the distance.”

“Is that right?”

“Mm-hm. Damaged people are tough. Fire, temper, steel, and all that.”

“You could tell I was damaged, huh.”

“Honey, you shone like a lighthouse. I wish I could've bet on you.” He gestures to the revolver on the table in between you. “Ever use one of those before? Don't worry, they're pretty user-friendly. You just point and click. If you don't hear the click, you're already dead.”

“Have you been a dick to all the players you've done this with, or am I just special?”

“I mean, they're all special, really, but if it makes you feel any better, you're my favorite.” He winks at you.

It’s finally clicked for you who The Recruiter is. “I knew I'd met you before.”

“No. I’d remember you.”

“I've known you my whole life. See, I watched you get drunk and smash my older sister’s head into the front door when you were dating her. I dropped out of high school when you got jealous of my friends because you thought I was sleeping with them. I lied for you every time the neighbors called the cops because of the noise. I know you, very well.”

“You know, now that you mention it, you do look familiar. You look like every smartass bitch I've ever known. All the teachers who thought they were so clever, thought that they could just push around a kid. All the bitches in school who thought they could just lead a guy on, tease him. Those women at the jobs where they just wiggle their tits and their ass to get ahead of some poor son of a bitch who does the real work, who carries his load and hers too. You look like every stupid cunt who thinks the world should bow down and worship her because she was born with a pussy made of solid gold.”

“Nice. You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“I don't know what happened. You know, we started out so good. How did we end up like this?”

“I guess it was fate.”

“You think?”

“I think...I think…you know what I think?”

“Tell me.”

“I think that you found the perfect job to indulge in your sick fucked up fantasies.”

He slaps you, causing you to fall out of your chair and back up against the wall.

“You're right.” He slaps you again. “I can do anything I want to right now. You know what's funny? That's what you want me to do. You screwed your life up so bad, you'll take any punishment I dish out ‘cause you know you deserve it.”

“Don't touch me again.”

“I'm not finished.”

“You asshole. You have sat there and watched me do everything that I've done and you think that you can hurt me?!” You slap yourself.

“Oh, that's cute.”

You slap yourself again.

“Stop it.”

You slap yourself again and again and again and again and again. “You fucker. You wouldn't have the guts to do what I've done.”

Angry, he slams the camera face down on the table so the people watching can’t see as he grabs the gun off the table and wraps his arm around your neck, holding you in place and cutting off your oxygen. “You think you're some kind of hard bitch now?! Is this what you want, hard bitch?! You want to play?! Let's play.” He presses the gun to your head and pulls the trigger three times, all blanks as the gun clicks.

“What? What?!”

“You…don't…scare me.” You choke out.

He lets you go, slams the gun back on the table, and puts the camera back up. “That round’s a freebie.” He sits back down and combs his hands through his hair. “If you're gonna stay... It's time.”

You pull the chair back up off the floor and sit back down. “Just out of curiosity, later, if I decide to quit, what's gonna stop me?”

“You take that chair. If you try to leave the game, either me or my compatriots will shoot you dead.”

You sit down and scoot your chair up towards the table, getting ready.

~

Final Round

“There are five players in the final round. This will consist of as many turns as necessary to eliminate four players. All players will pull the trigger simultaneously.” He puts the bullet into the chamber and spins it, then places the revolver back on the table. “Wait for my signal. Take the position, please.”

You put the gun to your head.

“We're ready.”

He nods at you.

You pull the trigger. Blank.

“Thought you'd be disappointed.”

He laughs. “No. I'm glad you make it through the first round. I hope you last a long time. I want to see you break. That'll be fun, to watch you break down completely before you die.” He removes the bullet from the chamber and sets the gun aside. “Just waiting on the report. And one player has been eliminated. Down to you and three others. Relax. We'll give them a minute to place their bets. Is it everything you hoped for?”

“This is the easiest thing I've done all day.”

“Maybe so, but there's another asshole out there somewhere who went through everything you went through and now he's just a pile of meat, brain splattered everywhere. See, you think your pain buys you something, that you earn some kinda big cosmic karma where now you’ll get what you deserve. I got news for you, pain is just pain. It doesn't get you anything.”

“You're wrong.”

“We'll see, when it's your brains that are on the floor. Oh. Time for turn two. You know, if you die here...” he puts the bullet in the chamber and spins it. “…nobody will know. We'll just scoop up your body, throw it to an incinerator. It'll be like you never existed. Nobody will know you were ever here.”

“But I'll be dead, so I won't care.” You put the gun to your head and pull the trigger. Blank.

“Bang!” He yells, making you jump and drop the gun on the table as he laughs. “Oh. Oh, another one down. They're dropping like flies. The odds are catching up with you.”

“Yeah?”

“How many times you think you can beat this?”

“29.”

“That's a very specific number.”

“Well, it's as far as I ever got.”

“When?”

“When I practiced.”

“You practiced?”

“Oh, yeah. Bought a real gun, put an empty shell in the chamber, spun it around. It almost never came up, and I did it a lot.”

“What's the lowest number of times you went before it did come up?”

“3.”

“Hm. Well, just so happens we're coming up on turn number three.” He puts the bullet in the chamber and spins it.

“What part do you enjoy the most, watching all the pain, or this?”

“Darling, I like it all. Take your position, please.”

You take the gun from his hand and put it to your head. You pull the trigger. Blank. You slide the gun across the table at him so fast it nearly falls into his lap as he gasps.

“Why don't you take a turn?”

“Because I don't have to play.”

“That's a shame. I bet if you had to play, you'd see things a little differently.”

“Lucky for me, then, that I don't.”

“Lucky for you. So?”

“So, what?”

“What was the outcome of that round?”

“Oh. Nothing.”

“What?”

“No players were eliminated.” He tells you slowly, like you’re an idiot. “It happens, more often than you might think. Something wrong?”

“No.”

“Really? Because you look like every other dumb prick I've seen blow their brains out.”

“You ever see anybody win?”

“Not a one.”

“Then I'm due. See, it's kinda like the lottery, somebody's got to win.”

“Except when they don’t.”

“Every time you spin that cylinder, there are five chances out of six that that bullet won't come up.”

“That's true. Let's see if now is one of those times.” He puts the bullet in the chamber and spins it. “I think I got you on this one. No, seriously, I feel good about this. Go on. Do you feel it? This is it. Am I right? I think I have you. Come on, take the position. Yeah. This is the one. You ready to say goodbye? Say it. Say goodbye. Say it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Pull the fucking trigger.”

You pull the trigger. Blank.

“No players eliminated.”

“You think they're enjoying this as much as you are?”

“Maybe, probably more. You know, you last as long as you say you will, you're gonna make someone a lot of money.”

“And that's why they're doing this?”

“Sure, I told you, gamblers will bet on anything. This is the best game in town.”

“So they're putting money down on me right now?”

“Even as we speak, they're betting against you. Some are betting for you. They're betting to see how many rounds this will go on, whether we'll have a winner or not.”

“Whether what?”

“Sure, maybe one of these times, all the players are eliminated. It's possible.”

“But the odds of that happening...”

“Are 50/50, either it happens or it doesn't.”

“But that's not how odds work.”

“It's time.” He spins the chamber and sets the gun back on the table. “Pick it up.”

You hold the gun to your head and pull the trigger. Blank. You do it again. And again. And again. And again. You hold the gun to your head and pull the trigger 12 times. All blanks. You set the gun down again. The Recruiter takes the bullet out of the chamber and sets the gun off to the side.

“No players were eliminated. You know what I think? I think your child would be better off with no money and you dead than rich with a crazy bitch like you.”

“No.”

“No?”

“They need me. They need to know what love really is. They need to know what it looks like. They need someone to help them understand that they deserves it.”

“And that someone is you? You just figured this out?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Well, then this wasn't a total waste.”

“Guess not.”

“You know what I'm gonna do after this?”

“Drown a puppy?”

“I think I'll go find your child. That one got you, didn't it?”

“Tell me, how have you made it this far without someone killing you?”

“Just my luck, I guess. Oh. There's been a change of plans. Seems the longevity of the current players has made the people upstairs change the rules around.” He adds a second bullet. “Now what do your odds look like?”

“It's not fair.”

“All the other players have the exact same challenge.”

“No one said...”

“Said what? You didn't practice for this? I'll be sure to tell your kid you said hi.” He puts the two bullets in the chamber and spins it. “Pick it up. Come on. You know the drill.”

You hold the gun to your head and pull the trigger. Blank.

“How many are left?”

“How many what?”

“Players. Someone has to have been eliminated.”

“Oh, yeah, that. One player was eliminated...as far as you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, as far as you know, it's just you and one other player.”

“I don't understand.”

“Then let me explain it to you. All that you know about this game is what I've been telling you, right? So, what if I told you I've been making up these last couple of rounds? What if I told you you've already won? Kinda funny if you think about it. What if you're the only one playing the game?”

“That wouldn't work. How would you bet on that?”

“Maybe the bet's not about who wins the game. Maybe you're the bet and it's simply how many times you'll keep pulling that trigger until you lose. Think about it. How would you know?” He suddenly laughs. “I'm kidding, yeah, of course. One of the other players really was eliminated. That leaves you and one more. And it's that time again.”

“So there really is another player?”

“I was just joking. Jeez, you got to learn how to lighten up. If the player could take their position please?”

“There really is another player?”

“Yes,” he says, highly annoyed.

“Prove it.”

“Hold on a sec. Assume the position!” He orders you.

“Prove that there's another player.”

“That's not how this game works. You got to trust me.”

You put the gun to your head.

“Ready.”

After staring at The Recruiter for a long moment, you remove the gun from your head, an idea coming to you.

“Pull. The. Trigger.”

You stare at him.

“Do it!”

You put the gun to your head and pull the trigger. Blank.

“I've been instructed that if you fail to comply again, you forfeit the game.”

You laugh. “Forfeit?”

He pulls up his shirt, showing the other gun tucked in his pants. “Then I'm instructed to shoot you.”

“Your bosses, money is just their excuse for playing. They don't really care about winning. They just want to see blood.”

“Now you're catching on. And they don't care whose it is. Oh. And we're upping the ante again.”

He adds a bullet.

“You forgot to say whether a player was eliminated.”

“Did I? What if I told you there wasn't really a game? What if I told you this whole thing was just made up? What if I told you it's been you and me this whole time?” He asks as he loads the bullets into the chamber.

“You're a liar.”

“Well, I guess we'll find out.” He spins the chamber. “It's time. Position. Please. Mm-hm. You got it.”

You grab the gun but don’t put it to your head. “Let me ask you this. What if there is just one bet? What if it's a 50/50 one?”

“That wouldn't make any sense.” He taps his temple to signal you to sssume the position.

You put the gun to your head. You don’t pull the trigger. “You know what? I think I have already won.” You point the gun at him. “I think the bet now is simply who walks out of this room.”

“That's not how this game is played.”

“You said it yourself, real gamblers will make odds on anything.”

“What if I told you that gun doesn't have any bullets?”

“I watched you.”

“Dummies, blanks. The real bet was to see how long you'd play before you quit.”

“Liar.”

“Okay. Okay, you're right. It wasn't fair, so just put the gun down, and we'll talk about changing the rules.”

“You're gonna change the rules?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Guys like you don't get to make the rules.” You pull back the hammer and stand up. “Do you know what your mistake was? You thought that the show was all about me, but you forgot that there are two animals in this cage.” You notice him sliding his hand back towards his gun. “You won't get it out before I pull the trigger.”

“If that chamber's empty, I got you.”

“I thought they were blanks.”

“You don't have the guts.”

You shoot. Blank. He flips the table up and makes a run for the door, failing to notice his gun has fallen out of his pocket as you keep shooting at him, firing off three live shots and then nothing but gun clicks. The door slides open to reveal a guard. You grab The Recruiter’s discarded gun off the ground and shoot at the the guards, killing some of them. You then play dead behind the upturned table. They let their guard down and when they get close, you shoot them dead too. The Recruiter comes from behind and tackles you to the ground and tries to strangle you to death. But you manage to get the upper hand.

Even though he could, he’s too proud to beg for your help as he lays on the ground, convulsing, dying. He just stares at you as he chokes on his own blood until he dies with his eyes wide open. A smile still on his face.

You pull his earpiece out of his ear and put it in your own, listening for the person on the other end to say something. And then you hear those two words:

“You win.”

5. What if The Recruiter faked his death like how Oh Il-nam did in season 1? He died with his eyes wide open and none of the other characters checked his pulse. This man is so unhinged and was always five steps ahead of the other characters, always knowing they were watching him and looking for him. He eluded them for two years. He got the jump on them and subdued two men with just his briefcase. So what if he had planned for every possible outcome during the Russian Roulette game too and had piping lined underneath his suit to spurt out fake blood at the right time and the bullet was a dummy or a blank? Squid game men love to fake their deaths. Gi-hun winning the Russian Roulette game and not giving into his mind games throws him into abject shock. That's the second time he loses his smug smile. Gi-hun throwing his words back in his face only makes it worse, to the point he's driven to suicide rather than admit Gi-hun is right. But what if his “suicide” was just a part of a contingency plan so he could lie low for a while and then eventually go back to recruiting players once Gi-hun wasn’t a problem anymore and it was deemed by the people he worked for that it was safe to do so?

After his fake death, he’s left alone in the room when the main characters leave. He gets up from the chair he was playing dead in, cleans himself up by changing his clothes and washing away the blood on his skin, and goes home to you, his wife, as if nothing happened. You’re kept in the dark about what he really does. (Or you’re in on it and help him get the bloodstains out of his clothes, though you work behind the scenes and use your computer and hacking skills to find potential players and learn everything about them. He has to get his information from somewhere, after all. But you don’t go “out into the field” so to speak like he does.) If you don’t know the truth, he explains that he’s been granted extended vacation time from his work and suggests a holiday outside of South Korea. What about Thailand? Or Italy might be nice. Anywhere you want to go, just say the word. He has plenty of money to sustain the both of you during said vacation so don’t worry if you can’t get the time off. You didn’t really like your job anyway, right? Or maybe you’re pregnant so you take advantage of maternity and paternity leave early. Either way, a months or years long holiday would sound heavenly, wouldn’t it? If you do know the truth, you’re prepared the second he gives you a call on your restricted phone and says just a few words. You’ve been prepared for this day for years.

6. A scenario very much like the Korean thriller movie “Addicted”. You’re the long time girlfriend of The Recruiter’s brother (Of course you know The Recruiter’s actual name but for simplicity’s sake, I’ll just call him The Recruiter so authors can choose whatever name they want to give him.) and get married. While he and his brother are very different as people, and the only thing they really have in common is the parents they share, they are very close despite having very different interests and personalities. You wonder if the only reason they get along so well is because of you since you’re the common link between them. The Recruiter decides to take part in a car race for money even though his brother, who is concerned for his safety, asks him not to do that particular race. With a heavy heart, your husband plans on attending the car race to support his brother. Running late, he has to hail a taxi. The speeding taxi crashes into a lorry, and your husband is seriously injured. At the same time as the taxi crashes, The Recruiter’s car overturns in the middle of the race and he is also badly injured. Both The Recruiter and your husband fall into comas.

A year later, The Recruiter wakes up but is unable to walk properly, due in part to his physical injuries. He is brought home by you, where you attempt to take care of him while he recovers. Over time, you realize that The Recruiter is behaving identically to your husband. He tries to convince you that he feels like he is actually his brother, your husband, unable to explain why. He agrees to go for a hypnosis test and his answers so reflect his brother's character, that the doctor concludes your husband’s spirit has entered his brother (The Recruiter’s) body. You’re devastated by this revelation. You, unable to accept The Recruiter as your husband, tell his girlfriend that you are unable to live with him. She offers to take The Recruiter away and he agrees to go with her for your sake. One rainy day, he appears to you just as your husband had before. You discuss memories together and you finally accept The Recruiter as the "possessed" spirit of your husband. The Recruiter and you then share a slow, emotional night together where you have sex after the tearful revelation. You start to live life together as a happy and loving couple. In time, you become pregnant with The Recruiter’s child. Meanwhile, your real husband is still on life support. The doctor suggests to you that there is no chance of your husband waking up and it may be best if he were allowed to die in peace. You agree, and watch with The Recruiter as your husband is taken off life support.

The Recruiter’s girlfriend returns and tells you that she has accepted the fact that her now ex-boyfriend is no longer himself, and that she can no longer love him. She decides to go abroad to study (she may or may not have been blackmailed or bribed by the Recruiter and the people he works for to keep quiet and get lost or else be shot dead and her body burned and never found). The Recruiter, living as your husband, continues life as normal. Recruiting players for the games and keeping you in the dark about what he does or who he really is. You’re not feeling well while you’re out and about with him, so you decide to go home to get some rest and let him stay as what he’s doing is too important for him to just leave with you. While you’re home, a weird looking package addressed to The Recruiter arrives. You open it and find a necklace which had been given to you by The Recruiter. It went missing one day. You thought you just misplaced it.

You read the accompanying note, from The Recruiter’s ex-girlfriend, saying that she cannot understand his crazy love for you and could never ever hope to be you, no matter how hard he tried to mold her into you. Frantic, you dig through The Recruiter’s workroom and find a number of hidden photos of yourself that were taken by The Recruiter. You realize that he had loved you before you married his brother. You also find a notebook that The Recruiter wrote about loving you and being happy because he is able to watch you and live with you through his brother. You cry sorrowfully. You drive back to The Recruiter. You take him aside and ask him various questions about something innocuous like works of art and comment that some pieces may look good in your home and he should consider bidding on them or buying them outright. You continue to pretend that your husband’s spirit is in The Recruiter’s body despite knowing the truth. The Recruiter scatters his brother’s ashes across the sea. He loved you even before his brother, and had for the entire time you were with him. He faked his leg injury so you’d take care of him for a few weeks before he could pretend it was all healed thanks to you. The Recruiter also confesses that he made use of all of his brother's secrets to "transform" himself into him, to the extent of sacrificing his own identity and behavior. He claims that it was he who died after the accident. He tells his brother that you will forever love him under the identity of your dead husband. He apologizes and asks his brother never to forgive him for his deeds.

7. Hear me out: A consensual non-consent/CNC roleplay fic with The Recruiter. While you’re not a loan shark yourself, you’re part of the team Gi-hun hires to help track down The Recruiter due to being an associate of sorts of theirs and being personally recommended to Gi-hun by them. You’re the only woman and the youngest amongst the many men you’ve worked with the past two or three years. Despite your gender and age, you’ve proven to them and to Gi-hun that you’re experienced and have had great success in finding people that don’t want to be found. You’re highly capable and confident that you can do this and you’re not just in it for the one billion won he promised to whoever finds The Recruiter. You’re with Kim Jeong-rae and Choi Woo-seok when they spot The Recruiter at Jonggak Station. The three of you are told to follow him carefully but avoid making contact and do not approach him. You watch him in Tapgol Park when he gives bread and lottery tickets to homeless people, but he doesn’t approach you, Choi, or Kim. Secretly, while Kim and Choi are shocked at The Recruiter’s behavior and think he’s a total nutcase when he stomps on all the bread after making a short speech to everyone, you think he’s so hot when he’s a little disheveled after all his stomping and combs his fingers through his hair, slicking it back and tucking his tie back into his suit blazer.

Despite Gi-hun’s order to not engage, you get the idea to follow The Recruiter down the alleyway and tell Mr. Kim and Mr. Choi that you might lose him if you wait and should just get him by yourselves. Before they can protest or tell you to wait, you’re running ahead, yelling for The Recruiter to stop. They don’t have time to argue and run after you to help you. When they get close, they witness The Recruiter hit you a couple times, so hard that the force of his hits causes you to stumble backwards and fall to the ground. You’re seemingly knocked out cold when your head makes impact with the hard cement. Despite Mr. Choi having a knife, The Recruiter easily subdues the two men with just his briefcase, knocking them unconscious for real. Once he tells you it’s okay to do so, you open your eyes. He grabs your hand and helps you up. You dust yourself off then help The Recruiter drag and carry Kim Jeong-rae and Choi Woo-seok’s bodies inside to finish setting up the room for Russian Roulette. Together, you stand on the roof of a building and watch Gi-hun from above. When he tells you, you take your place in a chair that’s in the middle so you’ll be in perfect view of both men when they wake up and you’ll have The Recruiter standing directly behind you the entire time, his body pressed against the back of your chair and hovering over you. You nearly moan and rub your thighs together while he fastens your wrists to the armchair and pulls the ropes extra tight. As he ties the gag around your mouth, he gives you a warning to behave or else he’ll make use of your mouth later. But all you can think is, “Mmm. Don’t threaten me with a good time, daddy.” You see the lust swimming in his deep brown irises underneath his faux irritation with you. You know that if he could, he’d fuck you right now. But like you, he’s sticking to the plan and is going to wait to start the game until the real players wake up. On command, you let out a few tears to make your acting all the more believable.

Kim Jeong-rae and Choi Woo-seok wake up and The Recruiter puts on opera music and explains the rules of Rock, Paper, Scissors, Minus One, and Russian Roulette, dramatically illustrating the penalty for the loser when he points the gun to his own head and pulls the trigger. But there’s another twist. They may have noticed you’re tied to your chair a little differently than they’re tied to theirs. That’s because, unlike them, you’re not playing. You’ll be an observer of sorts and won’t need the use of your hands. To their horror, The Recruiter then takes a knife or pair of scissors out of his pocket and violently cuts your clothes off your body. When you try to thrash and pull away from him, he slaps you and orders you to sit still unless you want him to cut your pretty skin. He grips your hair to keep you in place as he grazes the knife or scissors against your cheek, not cutting you, but coming very close. You sob harder and squeal in fear as you comply until you’re left in just your underwear, (because he is the only man allowed to look at your cunt) your shredded clothes in pieces around you. You don’t even have your bra or socks anymore. He explains to Mr. Kim and Mr. Choi that, for every time they tie and have to go again, he will touch you however he wants in front of them, seemingly without your consent. The first time they’ll tie, it’ll be for fifteen seconds. Then thirty. Then forty-five, and so on. And they’ll be forced to watch for the duration. He’ll point the gun and pull the trigger at whoever diverts their eyes before the time is up. He has so many fun toys he could use on you in his briefcase.

Your acting really sells it and adds to their fear and disgust. Whenever they tie, you pretend to cringe and sob every time The Recruiter touches you, letting out muffled screams as you beg him not to. He’d do all sorts of things to you, from fondling and squeezing your breasts, to sticking out his tongue and licking a long path on your skin from your wrist to your shoulder to your neck to your cheek before ending in biting your ear. He’d remove your gag for just a second, not giving you time to cry out before he’s tilting your head back to kiss your mouth, violating your lips with his own and the inside of your mouth with his tongue. He’d kiss you so hard that he’d bite down and your lower lip would bleed. After he’s done kissing you, he’d lick up the blood from your bleeding lip and immediately put the gag back in place. He’d drag the gun down between your breasts and to the inside of your underwear, rubbing it against your mound and teasing the possibility of inserting it inside your cunt, only to actually reach his other hand inside your underwear and finger you instead, using toys on you, etc. You’re such a pretty little actress, aren’t you? So good for him.

The exhibitionism, the humiliation, and Mr. Kim and Mr. Choi’s fear of death makes it all the more exciting for you and The Recruiter, especially when Choi and Mr. Kim beg him to stop, for you to be left alone. Though their pleas are just as muffled as yours. The shame and pity in their eyes as they’re forced to watch what they believe to be you being sexually assaulted by a sadistic stranger almost makes you want to laugh. But all games must end eventually. The time comes when The Recruiter puts five bullets into the chamber, increasing the chances of death to 5 in 6. When Mr. Kim refuses to take a hand away and sacrifices himself to spare Choi Woo-seok, The Recruiter shoots him dead. His blood splatters over the space between your breasts but only a little bit of it lands on The Recruiter’s cheek. As he passes by you, he strokes your hair with one hand, running his fingers through it and then letting it go as he bends down and congratulates a traumatized Choi on his win. He looks over his shoulder at your practically naked form, shivering and twitching with the aftershock of everything he did to you with just his tongue, hands, and toys thus far. He hasn’t even given you his cock yet and already you’re like this. He gloats that while Choi won the game, he’s the real winner who received the grand prize - you. He asks if they can have a talk. The Recruiter asks questions on Gi-hun’s location.

After the interrogation, The Recruiter knocks Choi out again and unties you so he can unbuckle his pants and manhandle you however he wants so he can have sex with you properly. Against the wall, on the table, on the floor, on the couch, it doesn’t matter. He’ll take you wherever and however he wants to take you. Rock, Paper, Scissors, Minus One and Russian Roulette was just a warmup. But this…this is even more intense. Even more passionate, primal, painful. When he inserts his fingers and/or cock inside you, it always hurts so damn good. He’s demanding, he’s high maintenance, but you always are able to keep up and know exactly what he wants without him even having to say a word. You read his body language so well. He’s the same way with you. He can tell exactly what you want just from the noises you make. Though he loves to hear you use your words and say it. He can be such a tease sometimes. He loves driving you to the precipice but withholding your orgasm from you until he believes you’ve earned it. He planted you within the Loan Sharks’ circle and tasked you with earning their and Gi-hun’s trust by using the information he fed you so you could pretend to be good at finding people. The ploy worked. Good girls deserve rewards and bad girls earn punishments. And while you’ve been bad at times over the past three or more years you’ve known him and have been punished by him accordingly, you were such a good girl for him in the game, so he’ll reward you by fucking you however you want and then giving you amazing aftercare. He hit you rather hard to make the act believable and your skin might be bruising, but you took it so well. He’ll get out the first aid kit and make you feel better in more ways than one. This plan was as much your idea as it was his. God, you’re so fucking brilliant, a perfect match for him in mind and body. He fucking loves you, even if he’s not the kind of man to say it often.

You change into the outfit he picked out and bought for you, including new lingerie to replace the set he half-destroyed. Could be a nice women’s dress suit similar to his. Something expensive but overall inconspicuous. When he goes to confront Gi-hun and play Russian Roulette again, you’re hidden in an alley nearby, waiting behind the wheel in the getaway car for after he either wins the game or fakes his suicide/death. Whether The Recruiter wins, loses, or Gi-hun breaks the rules and tries to shoot him, it doesn’t matter. You’ve planned ahead for every possible outcome, and they all end with the both of you getting away and lying low for a while, continuing your work for the games from behind the scenes. It’s not long before he opens the passenger door and has you drive, opening his briefcase where he has guns at the ready. He gives you the directions throughout the drive and you’re off. You’re like a professional stunt driver at the wheel, having no issues going high speeds, making smooth and fast turns, and weaving in and out of traffic to evade pursuers if you have to. He needs to keep his hands free in case you’re followed and he needs to lean out the window and shoot at anyone.

8. Going off of a previous thought I had now that season 2 revealed In-ho had a wife who died young from acute cirrhosis of the liver, and that he took bribes when he was a dirty cop because of her condition: What if In-ho went so far to save you from your illness that it turned into a Nora and Mr. Freeze situation? You were just a happily married couple but then you started feeling unwell. You didn’t think much of it at first, thinking your symptoms were from something else like the flu or food poisoning. It possibly got so bad that you fainted and hit your head on the way down. When he got home from work, your place was filled with smoke but no fire as the smoke alarms went off. Covering his mouth and nose, he was quick to open windows to let the smoke out. He found you unconscious in the kitchen, your hair matted by the pool of blood forming on the floor from your head wound. He’d never been so terrified until that moment. As much as he wanted to rush to you and make sure you weren’t dead, he had to secure the house first. He had to make sure you weren’t attacked and that, if you were, the attacker wasn’t still inside, hiding somewhere. With his gun pointed, he searched every room. All clear and nothing appeared to be stolen or out of place. He didn’t care about the burned dinner you were in the middle of making as he rushed you to the hospital. He was there with you, holding your hand during every doctor appointment, every test. And that was when you got the news. When he has a heart to heart with Gi-hun while undercover as Oh Young-il/Player 001, he tells him the truth. Not the whole truth, but some of it: That you’re very sick with acute cirrhosis and need a liver transplant (or any other disease and treatment of your choosing). But when you were going through the tests, you found out you were pregnant. The doctor suggested a termination, but you wouldn’t listen. You said you’d give birth even if it killed you. You’re stubborn. Your husband has never been able to change your mind about anything. You were struggling to find a donor and your condition was getting worse.

“Breathe. I'm right here. Look at me. Where's the formoterol?” He kneeled down next to you, wrapping his arm around you as you coughed violently (possibly coughing up blood) and struggled to inhale and exhale properly. He found the bottle and gave you the pill, helping you to drink by tipping the glass of water to your lips. The attack gradually subsided.

“That was the worst one yet.”

“That was the last pill. Why didn't you tell me?”

“I'm sorry. I forgot. There's so many. There's so many,” you cried.

“If you have another attack and you don't have this medication, you could die. You can't let this happen again.”

“Why? Does it matter?”

“It matters. I'll be back. I need to get this refilled.”

He went to the pharmacy, leaving you alone in your house.

“Next.”

“I need to get this refilled.”

“Do you have the prescription?”

“I have the bottle.”

“That's not the same thing, is it?”

“Please, I just need it refilled.”

“The original prescription doesn't have a refill order. If it doesn't have a refill order, I can't refill it.”

“This medication is for my wife. She's sick. She's in pain.”

“Everyone that comes in here is sick or in pain. Have your doctor write a new prescription. Then I can refill it.”

“Just give me the medication.”

“No.”

“You son of a bitch!” In-ho lunged at the man, trying to strangle him. He was pulled off and away by two other workers.

“Get out! Get him out of here! Get out of here before I call the cops, you kook!”

Call the cops? He was a fucking cop.

“You shouldn't have done that. I'll be back,” he warned, pointing a finger as he left.

You were admitted to the hospital though you could barely afford it and your husband visited every day until his visits suddenly stopped. You were worried but he never returned your phone calls. For an entire week, you didn’t hear from him. He borrowed as much money as he could, but it still wasn’t enough. He was desperate, then one of his oldest vendors heard about the situation and offered to help. So he borrowed money from them. But people saw it as a bribe and he got fired from his job. He had devoted his entire youth to it. The games were his last hope. He really needed that money even if it was blood money. He needed that money to save you and your child. That all happened in 2015 during the 28th annual squid games.

When he came back after he won a week later, he was all in black, including gloves and a mask that covered his entire face and changed his voice (not his Front Man outfit, but something similar). He was carrying a Heckler & Koch MP5A3 sub-machine gun and his Smith & Wesson Model 19 revolver from back when he was a cop. Though he’d gone against the protocol of leaving one chamber empty and another filled with a blank. He had five live bullets loaded in the chamber and ready to fire as he pointed it at the worker that denied him before.

“Formoterol. Now.” He demanded. Upon entering the pharmacy, he shot the only other worker and person in the building not to kill but to incapacitate him so he couldn’t call for help.

“Okay. Okay. Take it all. Please, don't kill me. Please. I’ll-I'll do anything you want.” The worker begged, holding his hands up. He wasn’t so smug now, was he?

In-ho took all of the medication you needed. “Thank you. You and your friend here...are helping to save my wife.”

He shot both men dead and left.

To make sure nobody would make a missing persons report or come looking for you when he inevitably kidnapped you from the hospital you were staying in and brought you to the island, he faked your death by doing something crazy like impersonating a doctor and drugging you with something that wouldn’t kill you, but make your heart rate so slow that it caused a Code Blue and set off the alarms, making it look like you were flatlining. He even forged legal documents making it look like you consented to a “Do Not Resuscitate” order so that medical staff wouldn’t accidentally kill you by shocking you or break your ribs from performing chest compressions. Once they disabled all the alarms and unhooked you from the IVs and monitors that were attached to your skin and moved you to the morgue, he kidnapped you and replaced your unconscious body with an unclaimed female corpse that was unrecognizable in the face and teeth but looked enough like you to pass by planting stuff on it so his family would false identify it as you after DNA tests matched with you. After whisking you away to the island to get you the treatments you needed to overcome your sickness, whenever you were awake, he smoothly lied to you to leave you oblivious and in the dark about where you really were and what was really going on, taking advantage of your confusion and disorientation and other side effects from your condition to gaslight you.

“In-ho...?”

“I'm here, darling. I brought you home,” he said, holding your hand.

The room you were in didn’t look familiar. It didn’t look like home. It looked more like a luxurious hotel room.

“I'm so tired.”

“I know. It'll all be over soon.”

“In-ho... I want you to let me go. Let me die,” you begged, cupping his face in your hands.

“Honey, you don't mean that. We can do this. A donor has been found. The surgery will work. I'll be there when you wake up. I'll be there.”

“Okay.” You nodded your head and he kissed you.

Just as you were about to be put under, you stopped him and who you assumed to be doctors standing nearby (though they were dressed rather strangely) from injecting you with the sedative or putting the mask with knockout gas over your nose and mouth by grabbing his hand. “In-ho, wait. My necklace. The one that you gave me on our first anniversary. I left it on the nightstand in my hospital room when I had to go in for scans. Did you get it for me? Please, dear, tell me you did.”

He hesitated, unsure if you were just stalling for the sake of stalling or not. He brought it with him. Of course he did. “I got it. I've got it,” he said, pulling it out of his pocket to show you.

“Can you put it on me? Please, honey. I know it’s silly, but it’d make me feel…less afraid.”

He complied with your wish, bending over you to put it around your neck, clasping it into place. You fiddled with it, the familiarity of the metal bringing you comfort under your fingers. Now that he was close enough, you put your other hand on his cheek, rubbing it as you ran your fingers through his hair. “In-ho. I love you. If I don’t make it off the table… Please don't blame yourself.”

“You’ll make it. I’ll see you soon.” He reassured you, giving you one last kiss. “I love you,” was one of the last things you heard. A few minutes later, you were unconscious.

It’d take months, possibly even years to even begin to get you back to where you were, though you’ve shown signs of improvement after undergoing treatment. You were often unconscious from the surgeries and operations during your pregnancy and he’d tell himself he wasn’t gaslighting you out of malice, but out of love. The less you knew, the safer you’d be. He’d go as far to make sure you didn’t find out that he keeps hidden cameras around his quarters and a tracker hidden in either a piece of jewelry he knows you always wear or possibly under your skin even, claiming it was part of your surgeries so you wouldn’t question the stitches or the healing scar. You don’t feel it so you don’t know it’s there. You spent most of your pregnancy on bedrest. He couldn’t drug or sedate you too much because of the risk to the baby’s health, but even when you were awake, he’d do his damnedest to keep you safe, healthy, and comfortable even while lying to you or expertly deflecting your questions. Where’s your cell phone? Deflect. Why can’t this Apple computer in his office connect to the internet? Deflect. When can you go home? Deflect. Where are you? Deflect. Even though the circumstances of your new living situation were unclear and left you unsettled, you were excited to give birth despite the somewhat shady doctors your husband brought to care for you. If he ever detected you trying to leave his quarters, an alarm beeped just loud enough for him to hear it, signaling to him to put his quarters on complete lockdown with a push of a button so you couldn’t wander off and he’d rush to check on you. He’d either sedate you again if he absolutely had to out of fear your lashing out at him would be a danger to yourself or the baby, or he’d otherwise distract or dissuade you from asking too many questions or wandering too far. If you asked questions, he’d tell you to think of it as a dream, that it isn’t a bad dream for you anyway since you’ll have your baby soon. When the time came for you to give birth, your husband was there with doctors that were hired for their discretion (or he’d just kill them afterwards) and you gave birth to a healthy baby and survived, though the birth was difficult and took a great toll on your body. That was in 2015 or 2016.

You thought you’d be able to go home eventually, but in reality, you’re still practically a prisoner on an unknown island. During the first couple years, you took care of your baby while your husband oversaw vulnerable people being driven to kill others or themselves out of desperation for blood money for the entertainment of bored rich people in sadistic death games. Whenever it was lights out for the players, he came back and gave you your much needed break, taking his turn to care for your baby while you rested. You’re not sure why you’re still here as you’re feeling much better, but your husband and doctors keep saying your condition isn’t stable yet, you’re not in the clear, a few more tests and treatments. It’s always something. He won’t let you leave. You can’t leave this place without his permission.

And even worse, when your child reached a certain age, maybe around three or four (old enough to walk and talk), he took them away from you, sent them to be raised and cared for by people he knew he could trust until the time was right for you to take them back. He couldn’t let your child grow up in this place and become old enough to have awareness of their surroundings or start asking questions. When children reach a certain age, they get curious. Too curious. He couldn’t risk that. And this is no place for a child anyway. They need proper socialization and a healthy environment to grow and learn. When you found out what he’d done, you yelled at him, screamed at him, hit him repeatedly. He took it all. Then you ignored him, gave him the silent treatment. He took that too. He’d understand if you never forgive him but he needs you to understand that he does all of this because he loves and cares about you and your child - his family - more than he does a bunch of strangers. He’ll kill however many he needs to if it means you both get to live. And that’s why when Thanos is talking shit while he’s undercover in the games, telling him to stop running his mouth and take care of his own damn kids, to save the lecture for his own children, he snaps and beats the shit out of him, nearly choking him to death in the middle of the dorms. But, unbeknownst to him, after your child was taken away from you, you became more proactive in discovering the truth and getting off this damn island. You weren’t just gonna lie down and blindly love and trust your husband anymore. You can play dual roles and keep secrets as well as he can. You know your husband would never kill you. He’s done everything to save you. And even if he does kill you for going behind his back, you’re not afraid of dying. Your resolve is strong, unwavering. You’ll either get off this damn island and get your child back or die trying, with or without your husband. It’ll be up to him what he wants to do, if he comes with you or not. You just have to bide your time and play your cards right.

9. You’re a player and while In-ho is undercover as player 001/Oh Young-il, you and he form some kind of connection and stick together during the games. You likely have a considerate age gap between you. He’s probably at least fifteen years older than you but despite that, you’re hot for each other. You have been ever since surviving the six legged relay race. You’re so thankful he and his team took pity on you and let you join and bonded with him in the dorms afterwards. He sticks by you during the Mingle game and saves your life by grabbing your wrist and running with you, keeping you close for every round so you’re always in a room with him, no matter how many people are needed. On the last round, he kills a man in ten seconds before your very eyes after he refuses to leave. After the game, he comes to you during lights out and asks if you want to go with him somewhere away from everybody else to have some “much needed alone time together”. You know, despite his use of euphemism or polite language, that he’s inviting you to have sex to blow off some steam and come down from the high that the combined stress of playing the latest game and left over adrenaline gave you.

You follow his lead when he knocks on the door and asks a guard to use the bathroom. Together you ditch the guard (unbeknownst to you, he used his authority as the Front Man and subtly signaled the guard to go away.) and he takes you back to the room where the Mingle game was played, now spotless from clean up. No blood or bodies anywhere. The lights are mostly off and the few that are on are low, making the lighting in the room look dark purple, almost black, with hints of red. He tells you to pick any door of your choosing. You pick a door that’s your favorite color and he grabs you by the hand or lifts you up to carry you bridal style or over his shoulder into the room, closing the door behind you. You barely pay attention to the sound of the lock clicking into place as In-ho/Young-il is instantly on you, his hands and mouth all over your body, touching and feeling everywhere he can before you even begin to take your clothes off. That comes soon enough as, finally alone, you have sex on the floor in the colored room, the light above reflecting off the painted walls and creating makeshift “mood lighting” as you meet his hot kisses and touches with equal fervor. The potential danger of being caught by the pink guards only further turns you on. Unbeknownst to you, there’s no danger at all since you’re having sex with the Front Man and Host of the games. You’d hate to admit it, but you thought he was so sexy when he was strangling that man to death. It almost turned you on when he didn’t break eye contact with you and you heard the player’s neck snap. While he’s thrusting in and out of you, you beg him to choke you. He asks if you’re sure, and you confirm your consent. He tells you to tap his shoulder or scratch down his back three times if you want him to let go. While he fucks you, he chokes you so hard that your vision begins to blur and you see stars as you struggle to breathe. He doesn’t apply enough pressure to kill you or knock you out, but it’s enough to make your orgasm that much sweeter of a high.

10. While In-ho is undercover as player 001/Oh Young-il, he becomes obsessed with you because you’re visibly pregnant and/or have a resemblance to his deceased wife somehow. Even if it’s just one thing like your smile, eyes, or personality. After his wife got sick and both she and their unborn child died, he was devastated at the loss of his family, believing he went through the games and won, but it was all for nothing as he got out only to find his family was already dead. He felt guilty for not spending time with his wife in the hospital and being there for her before she died. (“I should go and be with my wife at the hospital,” he said to Gi-hun.) He never really forgave himself for just abandoning her without a word. And with nothing to go back to in the outside world - no wife, no child, no job - he dedicated himself to the games as the Front Man. That’s why he snapped and beat the shit out of Thanos and nearly choked him to death after his insensitive comments about “save the lecture for your own damn kids”. He thought he lost his beloved wife and his baby forever, but seeing you makes him believe he can have both a wife and a child again.

He becomes immensely protective of you, so much so that it’s unnerving to the other players at times, possibly even you, but nobody would dare to say a thing to his face. He’s one of the most formidable players in the game. He kills several players in the games personally while telling you sweet and caring things when you’re given moments of respite during the games and when you’re back in the dorms after the games are over.

“When you get out of here, go see a doctor right away. You’ve been under a lot of stress. You need to get yourself checked out.”

He gives you his milk or shares his food with you, insisting on you taking it since you’re eating for two and need it more than he does. He lets you use his pillow or blanket during lights out. He’s always asking if you’re all right and cracking jokes to keep the mood light and make you smile despite the circumstances. He keeps you stuck to him during every game like velcro. During the six-legged race? Your arm is interlocked with his. During the Mingle game? He’s holding onto your arm or wrist so tightly when you run to gather enough players and get to a colored door in time that there’s no chance of other frantic players pushing you to the ground or separating you from him. When you need to go to the bathroom outside of hours and sneak out of bed, he’s awake and asks what you’re doing. When you sheepishly admit you need the bathroom, he’s there with you at the door demanding for you to be let out if the guards tell you no at first. Despite being a man, he’s in the women’s bathroom with you. You’re the only two people awake and using the bathroom, so who cares if he’s a man in the women’s bathroom? The guards definitely don’t care. (Because he’s their boss, but you don’t know that.) He’s leaning against the stall directly across from the one you go into or the sink and keeps you company, asking if you’re sick and if you need him to hold your hair back for you if you’re feeling nauseous when he notices you’ve been in there for a long time. If he hears you crying, he’s knocking on the stall before opening it and kneeling in front of you, immediately fretting over you, asking if it’s the baby and if you’re in any pain, are you in labor, is the baby coming? Then he’s holding you and comforting you when you admit you’re afraid. Same for if you have an emotional breakdown over not being allowed to go home after the vote doesn’t go the way you want it to. He’s there to hold you, stroke your hair and stomach (with your permission of course) and tell you you’re going to make it out of this and both you and your baby will be fine. You swear sometimes you hear him say “our” baby, or that he’s calling you pet names like darling, honey, and sweetheart, but he gaslights you and tells you that you must’ve misheard him whenever you call it out and ask him about it.

When he goes with the men to find the control room, you stay behind. While you’re not sure if you love him, you have grown to care for him and see him as a dear friend at least and are worried for him. After the game is over and he goes back to being the Front Man, the pink guards storm into the dorms, firing off two warning shots and ordering everyone to get down on the floor. The sight of the pink guards rushing forwards with their guns pointed and no sign of Young-il or any of the other players makes you fear for the worst. Curled up on your side on the floor, you panic when your water breaks at the exact moment you believe Young-il is dead. Other players might think you’ve peed your pants from fear, but you can feel the contractions already starting. Unbeknownst to you, the Front Man sees your water break on the cameras from the control room, the small puddle staining your sweatpants wet and forming on the floor under you as the women nearby try to comfort you. He orders some of the guards in the control room to escort you out of the dorm room and to his private quarters while the other pink guards are busy defusing the situation. He emphasizes to them to be gentle with you, meaning don’t walk too fast, make sure you don’t fall, and keep their guns pointed away from you at all times. You’re terrified when three or four pink guards approach you and two of them slowly lift you up by your arms and force you to follow them out of the dorms the second you get back on your feet. You’re the only player singled out and escorted away from the others. Your friends are yelling your name, asking the guards where they’re taking you, but they receive no answer. Once you’re in the hallways of many colorful stairs, they blindfold you so you can’t know where you’re going, making you more scared. Your arm is held the whole way to wherever it is you’re going. They don’t tell you anything or answer your questions. They only tell you when there are steps in front of you so you don’t trip and fall on them. But you think they’re holding onto you so you can’t run. You think for sure you’re going to be killed and your baby will be cut out of your dead body and sold to a black market along with your organs or something.

But when the blindfold is removed, you find yourself lying down on a plush bed in a very nice, almost luxurious room with the Front Man and who you think is a doctor of sorts. The Front Man orders the doctor to help you by giving you everything you need for a safe and healthy delivery. But while you’re given a clean and plain men’s t-shirt so you can change out of your ruined track suit, you’re unnerved that the Front Man won’t leave. He’s considerate enough to turn his back or let you change in his bathroom and doesn’t turn back around until you’re back in his bed with your lower half covered with the blankets and the men’s shirt, which is so big and long on you it’s like a nightgown almost. He stands either on your left or right side near your head so he can’t see between your legs. While a part of you is relieved you have that semblance of privacy, he just stands there, watching over you. And you can’t read his face since it’s covered by his black mask. And you can’t tell much emotion from his voice either. It unnerves you.

But the terror becomes confusion when he eventually asks if you need to hold his hand after watching you struggle through a few contractions despite the epidural you were given. What? He repeats the question. When you shakily say yes, he removes his black leather gloves to hold your hand in both of his, letting you squeeze as tightly as you can when the contractions are at their worst. Your strength is nothing compared to his so he barely feels it. His skin is so warm. This bed is warm too. Much warmer than the cot you were sleeping in. You hate to admit that it feels nice. He puts on some jazz music to help you relax. He tells you not to think and to just focus on the music, breathe, and push whenever the doctor tells you to. After who knows how many hours, you give one last push and hear a baby crying. Your baby. After the doctor cleans them up and does what needs to be done for aftercare for you including any stitches or disposing of the placenta, etc., the Front Man orders him to leave. Your baby is wrapped in a soft towel or sheet as a makeshift blanket and resting on your chest. For a moment, you’re too in awe of them to care about the Front Man or what’s happening around you.

But then you hear a soft click as he takes his mask off and reveals himself not as player 001, Oh Young-il - but Hwang In-ho, Captain and Host of the squid games following his predecessor’s death and, even more alarming, your husband and the father of your child. You can’t believe it. He joined Gi-hun's assault on the staff, dispatching several guards personally. He killed two players to effectively fake his death to resume his place amongst the staff. When you’re horrified and exclaim that all those players who went with him are dead because of him, he is quick to correct you that no, they’re all dead because of Gi-hun. Even worse for you, if the real father of your child is still alive, whether or not you have a relationship with him, he won’t be alive for much longer. Even if he’s in the outside world and not a part of the games, In-ho will still find a way to kill him discreetly and dispose of the body so he can have you and your child for himself. He effectively kidnaps you and keeps you and your baby captive in his quarters because he’s all kinds of fucked up after his wife and unborn child’s deaths. You thought the games made him so relentless, that the games changed him. What you don’t know is that this relentless drive to get what he wants was apparent even before becoming the Front Man, as there were many self-help books on achieving one's desires in his old apartment.

OR

If you’re not already pregnant when he meets you, he’d be determined to impregnate you and would go out of his way to seduce you through emotional and mental manipulation or bribes during downtime between the games. Even worse for you if it works and you sleep with him in a moment of clouded judgment due to your hormones and/or fragile mental and emotional state from the high stress of your near death experiences. Either in your bunk, a bathroom stall, the stairs, or inside one of the colored doors from the Mingle game. Whether or not you’re already pregnant, once you have sex with him, your fate is pretty much sealed. He’d be even more protective and possessive of you, as your consenting to have sex with him would affirm for him the delusion that you love him back and accept him as your husband and father of your child, whether or not he actually is the child’s father biologically.

Either way, it’d be like a Basement Wife trope but he keeps going back and forth between sweet and doting and cold and ruthless personalities so it’s like you’re dealing with a Jekyll and Hyde type situation while prisoner. He’d never hurt you, especially not while you’re in such a fragile condition. He doesn’t want to chain you to the bed or sedate you as it can’t be good for you or the baby, but he will if you persist in misbehaving and lashing out. Stress isn’t good for you or the baby. He has no fear about you harming him, he can easily overpower you without hurting you, but he won’t let you harm yourself or your baby in any way. He might strap a monitor on your wrist that you can’t take off because it has a very special lock only he has the key to. Kind of like a house arrest ankle monitor. But this monitor allows him to monitor your health, whereabouts, and call you if he’s away for any reason - like an Apple Watch. Either that or he’d implant a tracking chip under your skin somewhere on your body while you’re passed out from being sedated. If you wake up, he knows. If you get out of bed to get a glass of water, use the bathroom, take a shower, or otherwise move around his quarters, he knows. If you so much as get a goddamn paper cut from reading a book, he knows. He won’t let anything happen to you or your child. You should’ve known something was wrong with him when he strangled a man to death and broke his neck in front of you during the Mingle game just so you and he could be the only two people in the room needed to pass. He looked at you and you saw no remorse or horror in his eyes. Only pride at protecting you.

11. You’re pregnant during the games and go into labor at an inopportune moment, possibly during the games or during the “special game” of the lights out free for all when everybody was murdering each other. If it’s the special game, he’d hide under the bed on the bottom level with you and his “friends”, his arms wrapped around you and his body almost on top of yours like a human shield. His hand would clamp over your mouth to keep you quiet if you cried out from seeing a player get murdered right in front of your eyes. You’d cry out again and that’s when you’d both feel wetness coming from your sweatpants and you both know it’s not pee. However it happens, In-ho/Young-il is so fiercely protective of you, having a soft spot for you ever since you revealed you were pregnant when you approached him and his team for the six-legged race and since then giving you special treatment that you thought was just him being nice, like giving you extra food and milk or letting you use his pillow and blanket so you’d be more comfortable during lights out.

When pink guards burst in and the players enact their plan to steal the guards’ guns and infiltrate the control room to capture the Front Man, In-ho makes sure you stay down and out of the rain of fire as he shoots many pink guards dead. When enough guards are dead and the others have retreated, he gets ready to head out with Gi-hun and his team. He waits until everyone else in line is ahead of him before he helps you up and takes you out of the room with him, telling you that you can’t stay in the dorms and he knows a place where you’ll be safe to deliver your baby. While the others are being led by the pink guard they took hostage and aren’t looking at him and you at the very back of the line, he takes you down a different hallway. You’re confused as it appears to be a dead end. He looks up towards a camera and nods. You don’t have time to react or understand what’s happening when the wall behind you opens up and a couple of pink guards blindfold you and grab hold of you from behind, pulling you away as you scream Young-il’s name for help. The others are too far away and can’t hear you over the sounds of their own yelling and all the gunfire. The last thing you hear is gunfire and Young-il’s voice telling you to trust him and that you’re going to be fine before the wall slides shut again, cutting you off from him and everyone else. You have no choice but to go wherever the guards are leading you and hope you and your baby will be okay along with Young-il. That’s why when after In-ho shoots players 047 and 015 in the back, he tells the control room to start wrapping things up. The sooner Gi-hun’s failed attempt at playing the hero ends, the sooner he can drop the facade of being Young-il and be at your side while you give birth in his private quarters.

OR

In-ho arranges for you to be exempt from the game so you can be taken away and brought to a medical bay or his personal quarters quietly without the other players putting up too much of a fuss since you can’t compete while in labor. It wouldn’t be fair and the games are all about fairness, or so he likes to preach. (Just like how he exempted Mi-nyeo from the marbles game when nobody wanted to pair up with her.) Could be part of my previous ideas of you being pregnant or could be its own separate thing.

12. You’re his wife and you’re very sick with acute cirrhosis and need a liver transplant. (Or any other disease and treatment of your choosing.) But when you’re going through the tests, you find out you’re pregnant.

"What-what are you saying?" In-ho gasps out as panic and wishful thinking begin to battle in his mind.

You brush your hand against his and smile with teary eyes. "The doctor is saying I'm pregnant, In-ho. We're going to have a baby."

You’re happy about this. He can’t believe it. Under different circumstances, sure. He could understand you being happy then. But now? With you so sick? Being pregnant now is far too dangerous. Even the doctor suggests a termination, but you won’t listen. You tell your husband you’ll give birth even if it kills you. You’re stubborn. Your husband has never been able to change your mind about anything. But in the following weeks, you’re struggling to find a donor and your condition is getting worse. He borrows as much money as he can, but it still isn’t enough. Then one of his oldest vendors hears about the situation and offers to help. So he borrows money from them. But people see it as a bribe and he gets fired from his job. He had devoted his entire youth to it. He’s desperate. Desperate enough to do something terrible. An irrevocable betrayal.

The first scare is...relatively simple, in retrospect. That night, In-ho comes home to you, perfect and lovely, preparing a meal meant to be shared. He doesn’t have much time to stay before he has to leave for “work” once more, but just seeing you in your shared dingy little kitchen creating something with him in mind makes his heart skip a beat in his chest. It’s a wonderfully simple moment the two of you spend together, holding hands like lovestruck teenagers across the table while you eat. As he’s preparing to depart, you sit by the window and sip at a glass of your favorite non-alcoholic beverage, illuminated by the lights of the city. In-ho is certain he's never seen you more beautiful. You take another sip of your drink before a strange expression crosses your features. It’s mostly an unreadable expression, but there’s the undercurrent of something...sad. It’s something In-ho has never really seen before, and it makes the first tendrils of anxiety curl in his stomach.

"Darling? Is something wrong?" he asks, walking over to where you sit.

"No, no, not at all," you assure him. When you look up at him, the twinge of sadness is already gone. "I just had...a strange thought, that's all. I'm being silly." You reach over and place your hand on his cheek. He can’t help but nuzzle into the simple touch and press a kiss to your soft palm. "Go," you say comfortingly. "Work hard, do good."

In-ho manages a smile and places his hand over yours for a lingering moment before pulling away. "I’ll see you soon, my love."

The two of you share a smile before he turns to go. He’s halfway to the door when he hears your voice again. And what you say makes his blood run cold. To you, it’s something so innocent, so innocuous. But In-ho almost drops what he’s holding. Just from that one sentence, he can tell you’re worsening. He scrambles to remember when your last injection was, and his mind is already cataloguing the work he will need to do to prepare your next one. He curses himself internally for letting it go so long, for putting you in this position. You need your medicine and he’s going to get it for you.

In-ho almost forgets about that incident by the time something else happens.

You place his hand over your stomach, encouraging him to splay his fingers out as if you’re expecting something to happen from his touch. "Do you feel anything? Anything out of the ordinary?"

"Not at all." He tilts his head at you with confusion and a hint of worry. "Why? Are you feeling all right, is everything okay, darling?"

"No, In-ho, everything is fine!" You still hold his hand over your stomach, gently stroking over the skin on the back of it with your thumb to reassure him. "I feel great. You...didn't notice anything?"

He shakes his head, brows furrowed but relishing in the feel of your soft skin.

"Oh," you say with an edge of...disappointment? "I guess it must be too early, then. I thought I felt movement. Must’ve been phantom kicks.” The smile on your features steadily grows nevertheless.

His throat tightens and he feels the beginnings of hot tears prick behind his eyes, so he has to look away from you. All he can hear is the blood rushing through his ears, your words falling away somewhere behind him. Imagining you pregnant was one thing. It gave him a private thrill, the idea of having a family. With you. It was a beautiful fantasy he kept close to his heart, but he knows now that you’re getting further along, that you won’t survive childbirth even if you do manage to carry to term. In the forefront of his mind, he knows that his fantasies of having a child with you has to remain exactly that. Fantasies. At least until your disease is cured or, if it can’t be, then at the very least, he can get you treatment to pull you out of danger and make you healthy again. At a different time, perhaps, your pregnancy would be a joyous moment. How exuberant he would be were things different, to prepare to bring new life into the world. How beautiful you would look, growing with his child, your body undergoing glorious metamorphosis. His child.

But that is not the reality he can live in while you’re still sick. You’re in danger, a danger he helped perpetuate. The thought makes In-ho shudder almost violently. There is no way to guarantee your survival if you go through with this pregnancy, or even the child's survival if you do bring him or her into this world. The thought of you suffering hours of labor, of dying…only for your baby to die after a few feeble hours of breathing in the NICU… That shakes him down to his core, makes him sick to his stomach. It would be better, merciful even, to not introduce a child to this world at this time. It breaks In-ho’s heart to realize, but worse, he’ll have to break yours, too. He can’t just tell you why there’s so much danger in this joy. He tried that when the doctors first gave you the news and advised you to terminate. You wouldn’t listen to him then and it resulted in an argument that he worried would only add too much stress onto you. He pretended to acquiesce to you, telling you that you’re right and together you’ll find a way, you will. There's always hope. As long as you're alive, there's hope, right? And you told him yes. There's hope. And that was the end of the argument. If he brings it up again, what will you think? You definitely won’t change your mind now. Talking to you will get him nowhere. He knows that. He has to do what he has to do.

It isn’t hard to get the pill. It’s a simple thing, a beige color, unassuming overall. Yet, it seems to have the weight of a brick in In-ho’s coat pocket. Since your pregnancy reveal, you had managed to find books on prenatal care and baby names and were going through them religiously. It’s...painful for In-ho to reconcile your eagerness, your pure unadulterated excitement, with what he’s about to do. It’s necessary, he knows that, and he hopes you will understand that. Eventually. He trudges into the house and sure enough, there you are sitting at the kitchen table, flipping through the pages of one of your new baby name books with a highlighter. When you hear the door close, you smile up at In-ho and go to stand to greet him.

"Stay seated, darling, it's fine," he assures you, walking over and kissing your temple.

You giggle at him. "In-ho, I'm only three months along at most, I won't overexert myself by getting up to welcome my wonderful husband home."

"I know, I know." He plants another kiss on your forehead before he walks into the kitchen. "Hungry, my love?"

"I can make dinner, you've been working so hard lately. All that overtime at the precinct."

"Just tonight, honey. Let me do this for you. For...both of you."

Maybe it’s an underhanded manipulation tactic, but it works. You smile with a dreamy look in your eyes, turning back to your book.

In-ho isn’t much of a cook, but he grabbed a few fresh fruits and vegetables the last time he went out for groceries, purposefully so. With a blender he hasn't touched in years, he’s able to whip up a basic green smoothie. He hesitates when he reaches for the pill in his pocket. In that moment, he hears something from behind him: you begin humming to yourself. When he listens closer, he realizes the song is an easily recognizable lullaby. Nausea swirls in his gut and he has to fight the urge to look back at you. If he looks, he won’t be able to go through with it. He crushes the pill into powder and sprinkles it into the mixture, stirring it with a spoon before he can think about it anymore. It’s blended so much that you won’t feel or taste it at all. You won’t notice. When it’s finished, In-ho pushes a glass towards you and is greeted with a curious smile.

"Trying to keep me strong and healthy for the baby?" you tease. You smile warmly. "Thank you, honey. It looks great." You reach out and start to drink without hesitation.

It’s over. In-ho feels like he can breathe again, at least for the moment.

It doesn’t last long.

In-ho goes away to “work”, hoping you’ll be asleep while the pill works. He’s ready to be there for you once he returns, to be with you in any grief you feel.

The house is eerily silent and dark when he returns. In-ho climbs the stairs, eager to slip into bed with you for just a few moments of fitful rest. Just some time to be with you, before he has to face your hurt. The bedroom is empty when he walks in. The bedsheets on your side are haphazardly tossed aside, and you’re nowhere to be seen. He walks over and flips on the nightstand light, and notices out of the corner of his eye a discoloration in the sheets. A large stain rests in the middle of the bed, right where you would be lying, and when In-ho touches it, the tips of his fingers come back red. That’s when he notices the door to the master bathroom is closed, and a bit of light shines from underneath. If he focuses on the silence of the room, he can hear...something, from the other side. He makes his way over, slowly, a death march to the door. He reaches up to knock, but stops when he hears the faint sound again. Tiny gasps, hiccups. Sniffling. Muffled sobs. His heart shatters all over again.

"Darling?" He eventually calls, giving the door a strong but soft knock. "Darling, I'm coming in."

"In-ho?" You gasp out, your voice heavy with tears. "In-ho, no, please, don't-" you dissolve into more pronounced sobs, and In-ho hears something clatter to the floor.

"My love, please let me-"

"I said no!"

He freezes. He has never once heard you like this, the agonized sharpness turned to venom in your words. Not even when you were arguing with him in the doctor’s office over whether to terminate your pregnancy or not. He doesn’t try to knock or speak again, but he cannot bring his feet to drag his body from the door. He ends up sitting with his back against the door, listening to you cry. Alone. He doesn’t get any rest that night. Eventually, In-ho has to regretfully rise. Shady characters are in need of him once again and, in exchange, they’ll give him money he so desperately needs. It’s through such shady characters he was able to procure the medications that you needed so far. How he was able to get the pill to terminate your pregnancy. As he gathers his coat to go, he hears the door creak open, and turns to look at you. It’s like seeing a ghost. You’re pale, eyes red and ringed with dark circles, and even the way you hold yourself is as if you’re being dragged down to the earth. There’s a moment where the two of you simply exist in the same space. In-ho watches your features for even the most minuscule change, and it feels like hours pass as he waits. Eventually, you sigh in an attempt to speak, but your voice shakes with even the simple release of breath. In-ho takes a single step forward and waits again. This time, you meet him halfway, but keep your eyes firmly down and away from his own. Is it shame that motivates you to divert your gaze? The shame that rightfully only he should be feeling? The shame that is, in fact, burning in his core as he observes how much grief is weighing you down? You make an attempt to speak again, but just shake your head. You press your eyes closed to keep from outright sobbing but still stray tears escape. In-ho reaches up and brushes them away, letting his knuckles brush against your cheeks. The contact of his skin against yours shatters the tension and you walk forward into his arms, burying your face against his chest. He holds you close, knowing he’s wholly undeserving of the beautiful creature that is his wife seeking his arms for comfort. He allows himself a single tear that falls into your hair, not any more than that. How dare he compare his grief to yours, how dare he try and appropriate your sorrow? He can almost hear your voice in his head: How dare you? How dare you? Somehow, the embrace ends and he’s helping you into bed after stripping the bloodied sheets and putting on fresh ones. He pulls the blankets around your unmoving form, tucking you in and making sure you’re warm enough.

"I have to go," he whispers regretfully, not even sure if you’ll respond.

And you don’t. You don’t even look at him but, before he leaves, he kisses your lips and your hairline then steals a glance back at you. Your eyes fall closed, and silent tears are streaming down your cheeks as you cry yourself back to sleep.

But it doesn’t end there. You’re hospitalized shortly after and he’s driven to compete in the squid games after being recruited. The games are his last hope. He really needs that money even if it’s blood money. He needs that money to save you since he couldn’t save both you and your child. He could only save one. He wants to return home to you so he can get you the operation and medication you need to ensure you could one day have a healthy and safe pregnancy. He knows you still want a child despite the traumatic loss you suffered. You’ll never know what he did. After he won, you’re still in the hospital, waiting for him. As part of his reward for winning, a donor is found for you on top of the cash prize of 45.6 billion won. But he can’t go back to his old life after all the bridges that have been burned behind him. But he wants - no, needs to keep you. If there’s anyone or anything from his old life he will never let go of, it’s you. Bound by his duties as the Front Man for the games and his marriage vows to you, he has no other choice but to go undercover as a doctor and create a diversion to kidnap you from the hospital so he can whisk you away to an unknown and private island where you can receive the best medical attention for your condition. Somehow, police have already been notified of his activity and what he plans to do.

“He’s in the building, posing as a doctor. He’s armed and has already killed five people. Evacuation is underway. We have to go,” an attending physician says.

“No. An evacuation is exactly what he wants. The staff bailed when the alarms went off. This is a deliberate diversion to get everybody out and away from her. He’s here for her. We can't leave her alone in her room. She’ll die if we leave her alone here or if he takes her,” your personal doctor insists.

“So we take her with us. Come on. Careful.”

“Thank you,” you say weakly as your doctor helps you out of bed and into a wheelchair.

You don’t get very far when you’re stopped by your husband standing in the doorway to the ward you’re kept in, dressed in black scrubs, black gloves, and a medical face mask, just like the police said he’d be. He’s holding a Heckler & Koch MP5A3 sub-machine gun that’s strapped over his shoulder and across his body. “Ah... I'll take it from here.”

“In-ho… In-ho, listen to me. We're trying to help her.”

“You're killing her.”

“No. No, In-ho.”

“In-ho...” you rasp, your voice and body incredibly weak from your disease. Your eyes water when you look at him. Despite his black attire, you can still see the blood on him and you know it’s not his. You’re terrified.

“I understand why you're doing this,” your doctor tries to sympathize.

“I'm saving her life.”

“At the cost of how many other lives?”

“Too many to turn back now. As soon as I've done what I need to do, I'll give myself up. But now we have to leave.”

“In-ho, listen to me. I'm her doctor. I know her history. I’ve known her her entire adult life. If we move her now, she might die.”

“Her doctor. Good. You're coming with us to push the wheelchair. Let's go.”

“No. No way!” The attending physician tries to stop this from happening.

“I'm going. She's my patient,” your doctor insists.

“I can't let you do that. I'll go.”

“It's not your call. She needs me.”

“I'm not gonna hurt her. I don't want to hurt anyone, unless I have to.” Your husband insists.

“I'm going.”

“In-ho, please...don't do this. Please, she’s pregnant.” Pregnant just like I was, you want to say, but you don’t have the strength. Your voice shakes like a rattle as you struggle to breathe while you beg for him to not do this, to leave your doctor out of it, trying to get through to him, to get him to see reason.

“Honey, don't worry. It's all under control.”

“Help...” you beg, your body already feeling worse.

“We have to go. Now.”

You sob when you hear bullets go off, your husband having shot dead the attending physician left behind. He can’t afford to leave any extra witnesses.

“In-ho, please think about this. How will you take care of her if you're in prison?” Your doctor asks as she follows behind him and pushes your wheelchair.

“I won't. You will. The city will. It's the law. As long as she's legally alive, she's a ward of the city and the city has to keep her alive and safe.”

“So I shall undergo countless operations and spend days or weeks in medically-induced comas only to wake up one day with you in prison or dead? A life alone isn't one that I want. There must be another way. Please, In-ho,” you beg him again to reconsider, but he doesn’t listen.

Holding your doctor at gunpoint in her car, he gives her directions and orders her to drive exactly where he tells her to go. You reach docks where a speedboat is waiting for you with masked and armed guards on board. He orders your doctor out of the car and to board the boat at gunpoint, then carefully lifts you into his arms bridal style and carries you onto the boat himself. You’re unconscious for most of the voyage, unable to bear the stress of the situation anymore, though it doesn’t take too long to get to your destination. Against your will, you’re taken to the island. You’re given the surgeries you need, the treatments and medications you need, etc. but despite the success of your operations and treatments, recovery still takes months. Most of it is spent on bedrest and In-ho is still hovering over you whenever he returns to your shared personal quarters, asking both you and your doctor how you’re faring, if you’re eating well and sleeping well, etc. as he comes to your bedside and rests his hand on your head to pet your hair and rub your cheek. You feel guilty that your doctor has been held captive alongside you all these months, kept by your side to attend your every need whenever In-ho is called away and can’t do it himself. You’re terrified of what might happen to her if you were to suddenly take a turn for the worst. It’s not rational, but you have a horrible sinking feeling in your gut that if anything involving you were to go wrong, In-ho would blame her, even if it’s something out of her control. And that he’d kill her if you were to die under her watch.

One day, when you’re alone, you confess to your doctor that she may be able to escape.

“I heard In-ho talking when he thought I was asleep. There’s speedboats and oxygen tanks docked on the coast of the island not far from here. If you hurry, you can take one and make it out before he gets back,” you plead to her.

“I'm not leaving you,” she insists, holding your hand to comfort you.

“This must be very stressful for you and your baby. And you’re almost due.”

“We're fine.”

“Could I have some water?” You ask instead, and she walks away to grab a glass and fill it with water from the sink. She hands it to you. “Thank you. You’ve heard him all these months. He's not a bad man at heart. You’ll get out of here alive, I promise. I’ll talk to In-ho. I’ll do everything in my power to make it so. If I’m not standing on the shoreline and waving you off as I watch you board a boat headed for home, then I’m not breathing at all.”

“Don’t talk like that. You’re going to be fine. The surgeries have been successes so far and your body has accepted the new organ with minimal issues. There have been no signs of rejection.”

“When you’re sent home, you have to tell them that he’s not a bad man. That he only wanted to save me because he loves me. Please.”

“I will.”

“And please tell them that I'm very sorry for my part in this. I saw the man that he was becoming and I did nothing. Because I loved him. You know what that's like, don't you?”

“I do.”

“Thank you. You've been very kind. Can you…would you mind if I ask… Have you picked out any names for your baby?”

You’re desperate to talk about something else, to think about something else. Something happy for her even if it’s bittersweet for you. You need a distraction from your current predicament. When she tells you about the baby’s gender (if she knows it) and the names she likes and has been considering, you smile and tell her about the names you highlighted in the baby name book you had at home. You’re not sure if you would’ve wanted to know the gender or be surprised. You talk about the dreams for the future you once had, whether you wanted your first to be a boy or girl, if you had a preference or not, etc.

During your recovery, your husband still acts as the Front Man for subsequent annual games and you’re kept in the dark. He’s in deeper than he was when he won the games. He’s now taken to arranging the games and acting as the Host following the original mastermind's death. He has continuously run the games for several years. It’s now 2024. Your doctor was set free and sent back home before her due date after all the precautions were taken to ensure she couldn’t find or disclose the location of the island, including having her being closely monitored by the pink guards, ready to shoot her dead and dispose of her body if she ever spoke out. But she’s kept quiet and gone along with the story that you and In-ho are dead, because of you. Because of you, she’s still alive and got to have her baby. And you? You’re still on the island. You understand that recovery for your condition could sometimes take more than a year, but you’ve been here nearly ten years. You can’t leave without his permission. You’ve tried more than once. Rather than tell you there’s no life for you to go back to since the world thinks you’re both dead, he keeps you here for so long by lying to you over and over and over. If he told you the truth, how could he admit to any of it without losing you? It’s his duty to protect you, the love of his life. Even if it’s painful. This relentless drive to get what he wants was apparent even before becoming the Front Man, as there were many self-help books on achieving one's desires in his old apartment.

But disruptions to his facilitation of the 36th iteration of the games have forced his hand to resort toward more drastic measures. As retaliation for Gi-hun's continued defiance against him for three years, he repeatedly tries to break him by forcing him to participate in the game. He joins the games specifically to break Gi-hun's spirit, and intentionally works his way into his inner circle, with no indication that he truly sees him as a friend, all to successfully sabotage his efforts to bring the game down by force. When Gi-hun's rebellion is successfully suppressed, the Front Man spares his life while personally ordering the execution of Jung-bae in front of him and telling him it’s the consequence of trying to play the hero. At the same time he’s undercover as a player, he’s still fulfilling his duties as your husband through proxy, having the pink guards give you whatever you need and keeping an eye on you so you don’t learn too much. He’s hidden the remote control he uses to watch the games on the big screen so you won’t know. But what if you’re stronger, smarter, and more resilient than you let on and manage to gather very valuable information by eavesdropping on In-ho’s conversations by feigning being asleep whenever he checks on you, sneaking away and stealthing around the building, etc., all to slowly discover the horrific truth your husband so desperately has kept hidden from you for the last ten years?

13. Like above with The Recruiter, a scenario very much like the Korean thriller movie “Addicted”. You’re the long time girlfriend of Jun-ho and get married. While he and In-ho are very different as people, and the only thing they really have in common is that they’re both cops, they are very close despite only being stepbrothers. You’ve also been very close to In-ho, though you always thought of your relationship as strictly friendly due to him being your brother-in-law and himself having a wife that you believe he loves. You’re there for In-ho and his wife when she gets sick and she views you as a sister not just because of your relation as sister-in-laws but because you’re always there to support her and do what you can to care for her and comfort her, from little things to big things, especially whenever In-ho is away due to his job. He and his wife can always count on you. You visit her more in the hospital than her own husband does. You’re the only other person besides In-ho to learn of her pregnancy and when she confides in you about it, she swears you to secrecy in case the worst happens. She tells you that in case she dies, she doesn’t want Jun-ho or his parents to know and feel even worse. In-ho tries to get you to talk to his wife, to try to convince her to change her mind and terminate the pregnancy, but she’s stubborn and won’t listen to anyone, not even you, despite your pleads that In-ho is only worried for her health and she can always try again after she’s better. Sometime in 2015, In-ho goes missing for a week. Neither you, Jun-ho, or his wife can get a hold of him. You’re all worried. You were always concerned for his safety while on the job and even his wife asked him not to be away from home so much anymore, but he’s just as stubborn as she was. You can understand that he needed more money to help her, but you grew concerned that he was putting himself at risk. And when she worsens and later succumbs to her acute cirrhosis, you’re devastated. Even more so when In-ho returns home and you have to break the news to him. You’re there for In-ho, taking him through the worst of his grief. In subsequent years, he asks you to go with him when he visits his wife’s grave on her death day to bring her fresh flowers, etc.

But then he goes missing again. For real this time.

Your husband becomes so obsessed with finding In-ho that he neglects you. You don’t divorce, but your marriage is deteriorating and while a part of you still loves him, the spark is slowly flickering out. You feel less like a wife and more like a single woman as time goes on. With a heavy heart, you carry on with your life and try to move on and find ways to be happy despite all the loss you’ve suffered. But your depression worsens when your husband stops coming home and stops answering your calls. It’s like he’s also vanished into thin air, exactly like In-ho. You can barely stand to be in your house anymore and often spend time outside or in hotels. One night, you have to hail a taxi when your car breaks down. The speeding taxi crashes into a black van, and while the driver is seriously injured, possibly even killed on impact, you’re only knocked unconscious with minor injuries.

Unbeknownst to you, this is a deliberate and orchestrated car crash, part of a plan to kidnap you and bring you to an unknown island. Under the Front Man’s orders, you’re sedated during the whole transportation process. You later wake up in an unfamiliar room, strapped down to a bed. You freak out, but freeze in shock when In-ho enters the room and comes to your bedside. He looks older, which is to be expected since you haven’t seen him in over five years, but it’s definitely him. He calms you down from your lashing out and panic attack, explaining the situation in a way that’ll keep you in the dark about what’s really going on but also serve his ulterior motives for why he brought you here. He takes care of you while you recover from the minor injuries you suffered in the collision, nothing major besides a concussion and a minor head wound and other scrapes and bruises. He tells you a fabricated but believable story about why he went missing, which includes that Jun-ho is dead, that he was shot and fell into the sea while on a job. To “prove it” he shows you doctored but eerily convincing confidential police files and death records from when that random body was found with Jun-ho’s ID on him. It was so damaged it was unrecognizable in pictures. With evidence in front of you, you have no choice but to believe In-ho and everything he tells you. Still, you’re devastated by this revelation. But he swears to take you through the worst of your grief, just like you did for him when his wife was sick and died.

Years go by of you living on the island, still kept in the dark. Could be through the use of drugs to make you disoriented and confused and blurring that edge of reality, gaslighting, and other manipulation tactics. When he does take you outside his private quarters to get some fresh air, it’s always brief and he stealthily knocks you out so you don’t get a full grasp of where you really are. You never know how you got there or how you got back. It’s so subtle you hardly notice and think you just fell asleep. You and In-ho eventually share a slow, emotional night together and have sex after the tearful revelation that you’ve fallen in love. You didn’t confess to him your feelings sooner because you felt so guilty due to being married to his brother even if he’s dead and you’re a widow now, and because In-ho’s wife was like your best friend. You felt awful for “stealing” her husband even though she died and he’s a widower who suffered the same loss you did. He helps you to overcome that guilt and you start to live life together as a happy and loving couple, despite the strange and unusual circumstances. In time, you become pregnant with In-ho’s child. One day you’re not feeling well, so you decide to go back to your private quarters to get some rest after he takes you outside for fresh air. While you’re there, a package addressed to In-ho arrives. You open it and find a necklace which you remember In-ho had given to his wife. You read the accompanying note from her, saying that she cannot wear this necklace anymore as it wasn’t meant for her and she cannot understand In-ho’s crazy love for you.

Frantic, you snoop around the other doors and find an underground chamber. You dig through In-ho’s secret workroom and find a number of hidden photos of yourself that were taken by him. You realize that In-ho had loved you before you married his brother and before he married his wife. You also find a notebook that In-ho wrote about loving you and being happy because he is able to watch you and live with you through his brother, Jun-ho. Through these secret documents, you discover your husband is possibly alive, having only been shot in the shoulder by In-ho himself and fallen into the sea. He lied to you just so that he could have you to himself. You were talking about getting married because you’re so in love and you thought it’s what Jun-ho and In-ho’s wife would want, at least for the sake of your unborn child. You were so happy mere hours ago and now, you’re crying sorrowfully. You don’t know what to do with the new information you’ve uncovered. Luckily, through some miracle, you’re not caught by In-ho. You put back everything exactly the way you found it as you’ve spent enough time in his personal office at home and remembered how he organizes his things, even down to which direction he sets down the phone receiver.

Do you take him aside and ask him various questions about his wife and where you are and when you can go home? Every time you tried in the past, he’d change the subject after giving you non-definite answers. Do you continue to pretend that Jun-ho is dead and you’ve moved on despite knowing the truth? You love In-ho and you know he loves you but this…this is much more than you could’ve ever imagined. You couldn’t have ever expected this. It’s been revealed that In-ho loved you even before Jun-ho, and had for the entire time you were with his brother. In-ho also confessed in a secret letter to Jun-ho that he’d never send that he made use of all of yours and his brother's secrets to "transform" himself into the perfect man for you. He tells his brother that you will forever love him as your husband. He apologizes and asks his brother never to forgive him for his deeds.

14. In-ho’s wife managed to successfully give birth to a healthy baby girl despite dying in the process. That baby girl is you, born sometime in 2015. When In-ho returned home and went to the hospital his wife was staying in after winning the 28th annual squid games, he received the bittersweet news that his wife was dead, having died in childbirth, but that you, his baby daughter, was alive and would be fine. You were either being kept in the hospital still or staying with Jun-ho and his parents. When he saw you and held you for the first time, he almost didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to set you down or let you out of his sight. He gave you the name his wife picked. It’s now 2024 and you’re eight or nine years old. What would your life be like? Would In-ho take you with him to the island from infancy to keep you safe and under his watchful eye while he acts as Front Man/Host for the squid games because you’re the last living piece of his wife that he has and he doesn’t want to ever lose you or miss out on any milestone in your life? What would it be like, effectively being kept prisoner on the island but kept in the dark and oblivious about what he does? Having no real friends to play with except maybe the Pink Guards who are under strict orders to play with you or keep an eye on you? Or would he leave you to be raised by his parents and Jun-ho? Or would he keep your existence secret from Jun-ho and his parents and come up with a secret third option that entails you having a normal-ish life with other “family” of his that he personally arranged, but he visits you or sends you messages on a very special encrypted phone or through the mail through mysterious envelopes without return addresses on them whenever he can, even if it’s at the most random of times? Would you know he’s your father from the beginning or would you learn this fact later in life?

OR

For a darker and more fucked up version: What if Jun-hee isn’t the first heavily pregnant player to compete in the games? Sometime during his years working as the Front Man and overseeing the games, he kept a close eye on a heavily pregnant contestant. After she was shot and killed for failing a game (the guard responsible making sure to avoid her stomach and shoot her in the head), her body was quickly loaded up into a box and taken away. The guards working in the morgue only had about ten minutes if they wanted to save the baby growing inside her. And they were under clear and strict orders by The Front Man to do so. A post-mortem c-section was performed and, when they cut her open, they pulled out a crying and screaming baby girl. The baby was cleaned up and checked by the doctor stationed on the island, then wrapped in a blanket and handed over to the Front Man per his orders/request. And that’s how you came to be his daughter. He’s your father now. And as far as you’ll ever know, he’s your biological father who solely raised you after your mother, his wife, died in childbirth from complications of acute cirrhosis of the liver.

15. Being in a poly relationship with the Front Man and The Recruiter would include? I don’t know any specific plot ideas exactly or how you got to be their personal whore/toy, but just imagine being a sugar baby or lover to both of these men that are two different flavors of DILF. You’re given everything from clothes, lingerie, and jewelry to a car and a house, as well as all the money you could ever need to pay for whatever it is you need - college tuition, medical bills, etc., even if it’s not for you but for one of your loved ones. In exchange, you’re on call for whenever either or both of them are in need of you and your services. You do whatever they ask of you, no matter what it is. Doesn’t matter what time it is, you go to them whenever they call. (Or maybe The Recruiter would go so far as to having a key to your house and letting himself in through the door or through a window, without giving you prior warning he’s coming. He comes whenever he feels like it. Could be any time of the day. And if you’re not home when he gets there, he’ll call you and tell you to get your cute ass home. Now. Then he’ll make himself comfortable in your house while he’s waiting for you. But you know that the longer you make him wait, the worse your punishment will be. Maybe a stipulation to having the house is leaving the doors and windows unlocked. If it’s late at night, he’d just sneak into your bedroom while you’re asleep and rouse you awake by going down on you or something. Classic Somnophilia.)

You either drive to them yourself or a car and/or a boat is waiting for you to be picked up. Imagine being squeezed in between these men like a sandwich or being in an Eiffel Tower with them, whether or not either or both of them are covered in blood from shooting players. (They wouldn’t care if you were on your monthly cycle. If anything, your blood would turn them on even more.) Imagine getting fucked on the hood of or inside the white limousine. Imagine them taking turns to watch while the other one fucks you. Imagine them turning fucking you into all kinds of thrilling and borderline dangerous sex games along the same vein of the actual squid games. Like they tell you do something under a time limit and if you fail and the timer runs out, they won’t kill you, but they’ll punish you sexually. And sometimes their punishments are so intense they make you wish you were dead because being denied your orgasms over and over and over is a special kind of torture and the coiling in your gut from your building orgasm that’s unable to be released is almost unbearable. What if you’ve been at this “job” so long that it gets to a point where In-ho wants to give you a “raise” and get you pregnant because he wants a child after the death of his wife and their unborn child and he may or may not have a pregnancy kink?

That is all for now. Thank you for listening to my brainrot.

[junespriince]

Pirate au no name yet

Bruce and Dick having a huge fight

King Bruce: you are dead to me!

Prince Dick: fine! *Faked his death and became the pirate*

Wally: you did tell your siblings you were faking your death out of pettiness, right?

Dick:

Dick: shit.

[romanticintheory]

thinking about fellow soldier!reader coming back to ghost after having been mistaken for kia

gn!reader x simon "ghost" riley

-maybe he's back in your shared apartment, holding the last photo he took with you.

-it was taken the day of your birthday, with your arms around simon's waist and a gleeful smile permanently etched on your face.

-you were looking directly at the camera with your eyes crinkled at the corners. simon, however, was looking at you and only you with an expression only a lovestruck fool could manage.

-he had long since stopped crying about what he believed was your death. when price came to him with a somber expression and the news that you were on the wrong end of an explosion, the only thing he could do was cry or be angry.

-now, he felt nothing.

-you could imagine his surprise when he hears the front door open. did he forget to lock it? was someone breaking in? he didn't care enough to prepare himself for a potential attack.

-but, no, you walked in with an ungodly amount of bandaged wounds and a tired look on your face.

-you expected him to stand from his place on the sofa to meet you, but he didn't. he thought he was imagining things, again, so he said nothing.

-"simon," you said softly, not bothering to take off your shoes and throwing you things onto the ground next to you.

-still, he said nothing.

-"i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry. price said he tried to contact you but that you never answered," you continued. nobody knew where you and ghost lived, and simon's grief took the form of self-isolation.

-he still didn't answer you at this point, and it was becoming unsettling.

-"simon, can you hear me?"

-"you're not real," was all he could muster. he didn't have the heart to tell "fake" you to go away or beg himself to wake up from his supposed dream. "i can't do this again. you're not real."

-you realized just how hard your false death had hit him.

-"i'm real. i promise. i was able to take cover last second and-"

-"no. you're dead with not even a body to recover because i wasn't there to protect you. god, i..." the words got stuck in his throat as he leaned forward on the sofa, holding his head in his hands and near trembling.

-you dropped to your knees in front of him like a follower worshipping their god. taking his hands, you held them tight as you could in a silent attempt at convincing him you were alive.

-there was a moment of silence between the two of you before he drew his hands away from yours. it made your heart hurt.

-"simon..." you were grasping at straws, now, trying to figure out how to convince him of what was true. maybe there was something in your luggage that might help.

-as soon as you turned your body to your bags by the front door, you were pulled right back in by a pair of strong arms.

-he was hugging you like the moment he let go, you'd disappear into thin air (and, in a way, he believed it to be a possibility). after being pulled from your shock, you immediately brought your own arms to reciprocate the embrace.

-"(y/n)," he said, trying to keep his voice stable. there was still a part of him that couldn't believe he had you with him. if he weren't so thankful, he'd be lecturing you about acting wreckless on missions and convincing you to quit your job so nothing like this happened again.

-but, for now, he was content like this.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

By Your Side Always

Summary: You comfort Astarion after he breaks down due to your near-death experience.

The last thing you feel before the ground hits you is a burning hot pain in your stomach where a sword had run you through, your mouth opening in a small ‘oh’. The last thing you hear is a familiar voice screaming out your name, filled with anxiety and fear. The last thing you think about is how Astarion would react when he saw your body. Would he mourn? Would he continue on with his life as though nothing had happened? You hoped that he would find the strength to carry on and become his own person, unafraid of others. With the last of your strength, you try to search for his face, wanting to see the vampire you had fallen hard for one last time, but darkness claims you before your eyes can lock with his.

“Y/N!”

The first thing you feel when you wake up is the coldness of someone’s hand tightly wrapped around yours. The first thing you hear is the soft whisper of his voice telling you that you’re safe, that he’s right here with you, sending waves of reassurance through you. The first thing you think about is whether you’re in heaven or hell, but that wouldn’t make sense since Astarion was here. You were pretty sure you died or something when that sword ran you through.

“Y/N.” You look up into ruby red eyes filled with concern.

“Star.” The word catches in your dry throat, sending you into a coughing fit. Astarion quickly hands you some water and makes sure you finish it all before speaking again.

“Where are we?” You rasp.

“At camp, darling. Don’t you worry,” he presses a quick kiss to your forehead.

“The goblins –”

“All take care of, dearest!” He chirps, far too chipper for your liking.

“Astarion, what happened to me?” The smile falls from his face, ruby red eyes downcast. He stares at the bedroll you’re lying on, playing with the cloth of his tunic before looking back up at you, his smile no longer reaching his eyes.

“Nothing Shadowheart couldn’t fix.” The smile is plastered to his face, a facade perfected over the course of almost 200 years but you see right through it immediately.

“Did I die?” You decide to go straight to the point.

“Well, I don’t believe I’m dead dead so I doubt you’d be seeing me if you were in the afterlife,” he gives a hollow laugh.

“Astarion,” you frown. “You don’t have to fake anything around me, I won’t hurt you.”

His face falls, his genuine feelings shining through at your words and you automatically reach out but he pulls away to compose himself. He fears he will simply break down if you were to hold him right there and then, giving you more problems. He’s on the cusp of baring himself to you, and the very thought scares him. He searches your face, looking for signs that you will tear him down after he’s shown how vulnerable he is but as per usual, finds nothing. The nagging voice in his head, however, says otherwise and he’s torn between trusting you and trusting that voice.

“If it’s too much for you, you don’t have to say anything. I’m just worried about you bottling it all up, I don’t want to see you suffer.” You force yourself to sit up despite the sharp pain the action brings, schooling your face to ensure Astarion doesn’t notice the pain you’re feeling. He’s already struggling with his own emotions, you don’t want to add to his burden.

“I thought you were dead.” The words leave his lips in a whisper. “I was afraid, far more afraid than I’ve ever been. Your barely conscious body scared me far more than Cazador ever could. You were lying so still with that damn sword sticking out of you and all I could do was wish that you were still alive, still breathing as Shadowheart did everything she could to heal you.”

He squeezes your hand so tightly it begins to hurt, his bottom lip trembles and he bites down on it to stop the trembling. Astarion can feel tears pricking at the edges of his eyes, a lump swelling in his throat that he tries to choke down.

“Didn’t work for me,” you grin, pressing a kiss to his tear-stained cheek. “I’m right here, alive, and the goblin who tried to kill me is dead.”

He clutches at your sleeve, desperately hugging you as he inhales your scent and feels the warmth of your skin against his. You’re here, alive, warm. Your heart is beating, a steady thrum in your chest that fills his ears and reassures him that you’re safe.

“I’m sorry,” he presses his forehead against yours, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left your side, I should have been faster, I should have seen the attack coming.”

“I failed you.”

He shrinks at his words, body tensing up. Sharp nails dig into his palms as terror floods his mind. He failed you. You’d punish him for it, kick him out of the party, leave him to fend for himself. He can’t bear the thought of leaving your side, he can’t envision a future where you’re not there, lying right next to him as you hold him in your embrace. He doesn’t want to.

“My star,” you murmur, reaching out to wrap him in your arms despite the twinge of pain in your chest. You can feel him shaking and your heart shatters, an ache that is replaced by a wave of anger at Cazador for what he did to your lover. You nuzzle into his soft silver hair, pulling him close so that you can tuck him in your embrace. The pain from your stab wound is nothing, not when your beloved so clearly needs you right now.

“You didn’t fail me. I’m alive, you killed the goblin who attacked me, and you’re right here, by my side. That’s all I need.” Pressing your lips against the top of his head, you gently rub circles on his back all whilst cuddling him. He leans into your touch, gripping your shirt and curls against you, biting back his sobs. He’s supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around and yet here he is, getting all emotional while you console him.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you whisper, pressing comforting kisses all over his face. “I promise, I won’t leave or abandon you. You’ll always have a place with me.”

“You…mean it?” He hates how pathetic he sounds but the soft look in your eyes eases some of his worries. You look at him with such genuine love and care, eyes devoid of the lust he’s used to seeing in the prey he brought back for Cazador and devoid of the malice Cazador’s eyes always held. Your every touch is filled with gentleness and warmth, flooding him with a nice feeling he can’t quite describe, he only knows he can never get enough of it.

“Of course, Astarion. You’re my star, I’ll get lost without you.” If your younger self could see you right now, they would never believe their eyes. It wasn’t long ago when you would do anything to avoid physical contact, hissing whenever anyone brushed against you, even if by accident, and yet here you were, initiating a hug so tight that Astarion would have suffocated should he have needed to breathe.

Astarion squeezes his eyes shut, imprinting the feeling of your arms around him in his mind. He feels safe, loved, needed in your embrace.

“Promise me,” he chokes. “Promise me you’ll never put yourself in such danger again, innocents be damned. I don’t care what happens to anyone else, I just need you to be safe.”

“Then I’ll need you to continue fighting by my side to guard my back, don’t I?” You run your fingers through his hair, admiring how soft it is despite its owner clearly not having taken care of it in a good while.

“I suppose you do. After all, what will you ever do without me?” A hint of confidence floods back into him, a small smile playing on his lips. He gives you a grateful look, undead heart soaring at your declaration of your need for him.

“Hmm, I don’t ever want to find that out,” you give him a peck on the lips, “but I would like my star to at least clean himself up before cuddling with me any further.”

“Anything for my love,” he happily nuzzles you. “I’ll see you in a bit, Shadowheart should be here any time now to check up on you. After that I’m all yours.”

“And I’m all yours too,” you smile. “Now go.”

With one last kiss, he reluctantly leaves your side and you let out a sigh of relief. He was dealing with your near-death experience rather well considering how new he was to having someone to call his own.

“No more martyring then,” you chuckle to yourself, “not when there’s someone who cares so deeply about me.”

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 24

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing : Y/n x dealer!Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, angst, cursing, mentions of death, mentions of murder, descriptions of crime scenes, grief, anger, mention of shootings

*POV's that are in italics indicate flash backs*

Y/n’s POV

My chest felt tight, my breath caught in my throat as Chris climbed over the balcony railing, the rain streaming off him. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead, and his clothes clung to his frame, drenched from the storm. But none of that mattered, he was here.

Alive.

“Chris” I whispered, the word barely audible over the rain pounding against the windows. My legs felt rooted to the floor, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing.

He stepped closer, his hands raised slightly as if he needed to show he meant no harm. “Please, Y/n” he said, his voice low but urgent. “Let me explain.”

I wanted to move, to scream, to cry, to do something, but I couldn’t. My heart was racing, my emotions tangled in a mess of anger, relief, and confusion.

“Explain?” I finally managed, my voice trembling. “Explain what Chris? how you let me believe you were dead, Chris? How you just left me to grieve you?” My voice broke, and I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms as I tried to hold myself together.

“Please, Y/n” Chris begged, his voice low and steady, though the weight of his plea made my chest tighten. “We can explain.”

“We?” I asked sharply, my voice cutting through the sound of the storm outside.

Before he could answer, movement from the driveway caught my eye. I turned my head and froze.

Nate.

He was standing by his car, his hoodie pulled tight against the rain, his expression unreadable as he stared straight at us.

“You’ve got to be kidding me” I muttered, the weight of realization hitting me as hard as the storm. I turned back to Chris, my voice rising. “He knew? Nate was in on this the whole time?”

Chris hesitated, his jaw tightening as he glanced toward the driveway, then back at me. “Yeah..” he admitted quietly. “He helped me.”

I let out a humorless laugh, the sound harsh even to my own ears. “Unbelievable.” I said, shaking my head. “You two conspired to fake your death, to leave me in pieces, and what? You thought I’d just forgive you when you decided to show up again?”

Chris took another step closer, his hand reaching out as if to touch me, but I took a step back. “I didn’t want to hurt you” he said, his voice breaking. “I thought it was the only way to protect you from Vince.”

“Don’t you dare.” I snapped, cutting him off. “Don’t you dare act like this was for me. You don’t get to make that decision for me, Chris.”

Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall. “Do you have any idea what you put me through?” I asked, my voice shaking. “The nights I couldn’t sleep, the days I couldn’t breathe because I thought you were gone? Because I thought I’d lost you?”

Chris’s expression crumbled, and for a moment, I saw the boy I used to know, the boy who would have done anything to make me smile. But that boy was gone, replaced by someone I barely recognized.

“I’m sorry” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I never wanted this.”

“Then why?” I demanded, the word breaking in my throat. “Why didn’t you just tell me? Why didn’t you trust me?”

His gaze dropped to the floor, and the silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating.

“I couldn’t” he finally said, his voice raw. “If Vince found out..if he thought you were a distraction..” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t risk you.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the sight of Nate walking toward the balcony made me stop. I fixed my focus to ground level to see Nate standing there.

“Y/n” he said, his voice calm but guarded. “We need to talk.”

I stared at him, disbelief and anger boiling to the surface. “Oh, now you want to talk?” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “After everything? After helping him disappear without a word? And watching me grieve for days?”

“Look” Nate said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “I know it was messed up. I know you’re mad-”

“Mad?” I interrupted, my voice rising. “Mad doesn’t even begin to cover it, Nate.”

Chris stepped forward, his voice urgent. “Y/n, please. Just let us explain everything. You deserve to know the truth.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, my heart pounding in my ears. “You’ve got five minutes.” I said, my voice colder than my body after being engulfed in this storm. “And it better be good. Nate, come in through the front door.” Gesturing to the front of the house as Chris followed me into my bedroom and down the stairs to the living room, soaking wet, leaving puddles through the house and I’m hoping it leads me to the trail of truth.

The room fell silent except for the sound of rain against the windows as Chris and Nate exchanged a glance. Whatever they were about to say, I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear it. But I’d come this far, there was no turning back now.

“Firstly I want to know how you managed to fake all of this. But before we get into anything let me make a call first.” I say, taking out my phone.

Chris’ POV 

The small kitchen in Nate’s house was dead quiet except for the ticking of the clock and the scratching of Nate’s pen against the notebook in front of us. My leg bounced under the table, the urgency of the situation pressing down on me like a weight I couldn’t shake. It was already 3pm, and I had less than three hours before I was supposed to meet Vince. If we didn’t come up with something foolproof, this wasn’t just going to blow back on me. It would destroy both of us. 

“This has to be airtight” I said, running a hand through my hair. “No loose ends, no room for Vince to start asking questions. If he even sniffs that this isn’t real..” I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

“I know, I know” Nate said, chewing the end of his pen like it was a lifeline. He looked just as stressed as I felt, his usual laidback energy completely gone. “But we’ve got this, man. We’ve just gotta keep our heads.”

“Keep our heads?” I repeated with a humorless laugh. “You’re talking about faking my death, Nate. This isn’t some petty scam.”

“Exactly why we can’t screw it up” he shot back, his tone sharp. He leaned forward, jabbing the pen at the notebook. “We need to sell this. Make it so airtight even Vince can’t poke holes in it.”

I sighed, leaning back in the chair and crossing my arms. “Alright, genius. How do we make that happen?”

Nate’s eyes lit up with an idea, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What if we use cops?”

“Cops?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not real ones” he clarified quickly, holding up a hand. “I know some guys. They’ve stolen cop cars before, uniforms too. We can pay them to set up a fake police presence at the scene. You know, flashing lights, police tape, the whole nine yards. We’ll pretend you got shot out front, have a sheet laid over a mannequin. Make it look legit.”

I stared at him, turning the idea over in my head. It was risky, but it could work. Vince wasn’t stupid, but even he wouldn’t question something that looked like an active crime scene.

“Alright..” I said slowly. “How are we going to make it known? He’s gonna start wondering why no one’s talking about it.”

“I’ll handle that” Nate said, grabbing his phone. “We call the local news outlets ourselves, anonymously. Tell them there was a gang related shooting. A fatality. Feed them just enough details to make it believable. If it’s all over the news by the time he hears about it, he’s got no reason to doubt it.”

I nodded, the pieces of the plan starting to take shape. “And what about after all this? We’re going to have to have a funeral?”

Nate paused, tapping the pen against the table as he thought. “We’ll buy a coffin, something cheap.” he said finally. “Say the shooting was so bad it has to be a closed casket ceremony. That’ll keep anyone from asking too many questions about, you know..” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at the empty air between us.

“Right” I said, swallowing hard. “And the ceremony itself? How are we meant to pull off a funeral without an actual dead person?”

“Evening mass” Nate said with a shrug. “I’ll hire a priest. No one’s gonna be around, and we’ll tell people there’s a cremation afterward to avoid burying an empty coffin. Keeps it clean and simple so Vince will buy it, not that he’d even show up to it, you know what he’s like.”

I nodded, the plan solidifying in my mind. But one thought kept nagging at me, a knot tightening in my chest the more I thought about it.

“What about Y/n?” I asked quietly.

Nate looked up at me, his expression unreadable. “What about her?”

“You know she’s going to get wind of this.. And If when she shows up at the funeral..” I trailed off, the thought of her being dragged into this making my stomach churn. “I don’t want people knowing who she is. If Vince finds out about her.. I don't want him to ever know who she is.”

Nate frowned, thinking for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right. We need to find a way to keep her anonymous”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my green bandana, holding it out to him. I had it in my pocket, ready for when I went to meet Vince later, just on the off chance of any surprises. “She can wear this” I said, my voice firm. “Tell her it’s for her own safety. Make sure she understands, Nate. Keep her quiet for the whole funeral, don't let her stand, don't let her speak. And if someone even thinks about going near her..”

“She’ll be fine” Nate said quickly, taking the bandana from me. “I’ll make sure of it.”

I leaned forward, my eyes locked on his. “No, you need to promise me, Nate. If anything happens to her, if someone so much as looks at her, you’ll protect her. You’ll get her out of there, no questions asked. Do you hear me?”

Nate nodded, his expression serious. “I promise, Chris. I’ll look out for her. She’s your girl,I get it.”

The weight of the plan settled over us as we finalised the details. Nate made the calls to his contacts, arranging for the fake cops and the news tips, while I sat there trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my gut. By the time we were done, the clock read 4:30. We had just over an hour to set everything in motion.

“Alright” Nate said, standing up and grabbing his keys. “I’ll set off a fake gunshot in about an hour, it happens so often no one in this neighbour good will flinch, after that i’ll handle the fake cops and the news. You focus on keeping your mouth shut in here, you can stay in Danny’s room for the foreseeable. The room is usually locked, and no one will be looking in there.”

I nodded, standing and grabbing my jacket. “Let’s make it count” I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.

Nate smirked, clapping me on the shoulder. “We’ve got this.”

-

I sat in Danny’s old room as the fake crime scene was cleared, after sitting seeing flashes of blue and red through the window for hours, hearing all the commotion outside. I stared at the four walls that seemed to close in tighter with every passing minute. The hum of the old air conditioner was the only sound, aside from my own restless breathing. I couldn’t stop replaying her face in my mind, how she’d looked the last time I saw her before this whole thing started. I imagined her smile replaced with grief, and it killed me.

Nate walked in, tossing a paper bag of takeout onto the table. He looked tired, worn out in a way that only stress could explain. “You need to eat something” he said, pulling up a chair across from me.

I ignored him, my jaw clenched tight. “How is she?” I finally asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He paused, rubbing a hand down his face. “She’s.. not good, man. She was outside the house, seen the whole crime scene. She came to find you, thought it was me that got killed. She was losing it out there. I called Willow and got her home though.”

That hit me like a punch to the gut. I leaned forward, my head in my hands. “Why didn’t you tell her then?”

“Tell her what, Chris?” Nate snapped. “That you’re alive and playing dead so Vince doesn’t put a bullet in both your heads? You think that would’ve made her feel better?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

“She was hysterical, man” he went on, his voice quieter now. “Kept asking why it had to happen, why I couldn’t have stopped it. She wanted answers I couldn’t give her.”

My fists clenched. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve-”

“No, Chris. You shouldn’t have” Nate interrupted sharply. “You showing up would’ve made everything worse. Vince is probably trying to figure out what the fuck happened, you can’t be dumb enough to break cover.”

I slammed my fist against the table, the sound echoing in the small room. “This is killing her, Nate. She thinks I’m dead. You don’t understand what that’s doing to her.”

Nate’s face softened, and he leaned back in his chair. “You think I don’t know? I had her break down in my arms thinking you were dead.”

I stood up, pacing the length of the room. “I can’t do this. I can’t just sit here while she’s out there thinking I’m gone. I need to see her. Just once.”

“No.” Nate said firmly, standing up to block my path. “You’re not going anywhere, Chris. You show your face, and Vince finds out you’re alive. Then he comes after you. Is that what you want?”

I shoved him back, anger boiling over. “I don’t care about me! I care about her. She doesn’t deserve this, Nate!”

Nate grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to stop. “And you think she deserves a bullet in her head because you couldn’t stay hidden for a few weeks? Think, Chris! Vince doesn’t mess around. You know that. He’d kill her without a second thought if he thought it’d get to you.”

The fight drained out of me, and I slumped back into the chair. Nate was right, as much as I hated to admit it. Vince wouldn’t stop until he was sure I was out of the picture for good.

-

The day of the funeral came too quickly. Nate left in the early evening to make sure everything went smoothly, while I stayed locked away in this damn room. I paced for hours, knowing Y/n would be there, crying over an empty coffin while I was only a few miles away. The thought made my chest ache.

Before midnight, Nate came back, looking more somber than I’d ever seen him. I didn’t even give him a chance to speak before I was on him. “How was it? Was she okay?”

“Chris-” he started, but I cut him off.

“Don’t give me that ‘it’s for the best’ crap. Tell me how she was.”

Nate sighed, sitting down heavily on the bed. “She wore your bandana, man. The green one. She had some bear with her too, was clutching it the whole time, like it was the only thing keeping her together. She barely said two words to anyone. Just stood there, staring at the coffin.”

“Raplh” I thought to myself, feeling like I’d been punched in the chest. “I need to see her.”

“No, you don’t” Nate said sharply. “You stay put, Chris. This is almost over. We just need a little more time.”

I couldn’t sit still after that. I kept picturing her standing there, broken and silent, because of me. Every part of me wanted to run to her, to tell her the truth, to make it all better. But I didn’t. I stayed hidden, knowing it was the only way to keep her safe.

It didn’t make it any easier, though. Every day felt like a lifetime, and every second without her felt like a knife twisting in my gut. I just hoped she could forgive me when it was all over.

The next morning, I sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the floor. The TV was on in the background, but I wasn’t paying attention. My head was pounding, a mix of the stale air in this room and the weight of knowing what Y/n must have gone through yesterday.

Nate burst through the door, carrying a bag of coffee and pastries. He didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Eat. You look like hell.”

I ignored him, same as I had every time he tried to shove food at me over the past few days. “How is she?”

Nate sighed and set the bag down on the table. “I’m not doing this again, Chris.”

“How. Is. She?” I asked, my voice low and steady, the tension simmering just beneath the surface.

He turned to face me, his expression torn between frustration and sympathy. “She’s wrecked, okay? What the hell do you think? She just said her goodbyes to the guy she loves-”

“Don’t.” I cut him off sharply, standing. My hands balled into fists at my sides. “Don’t talk about it like I’m actually dead. I’m right here, Nate.”

“Yeah, and that’s the problem!” he shot back, throwing his hands up. “You’re right here, but she can’t know that, because if Vince finds out, we’re all dead! You think this is easy for me? Watching her go through that? Knowing she’s blaming herself? I hate this just as much as you do, Chris, but it’s the only way.”

I paced the room like a caged animal, my chest heaving. “I can’t just sit here while she’s breaking like this. I need to see her. I need to-”

“You need to stay the hell out of it!” Nate barked, stepping into my path. “You showing up now would undo everything we just pulled off. Vince isn’t stupid. He’s probably still watching her, waiting for you to slip up. You walk into her life, and you might as well put a target on her back.”

“What if she’s already got a target on her back!” I shouted, my voice cracking. “That damn air tag, the shooting, all of it, it’s because of me! The least I can do is let her know I’m alive, Nate. She deserves that much.”

Nate’s face softened, but his eyes stayed hard. “She deserves to live, Chris. That’s all I’m trying to make sure of.”

I slumped back onto the bed, my head in my hands. “She’s not going to forgive me for this. When she finds out, it’s going to destroy her.”

Nate sat down across from me, the fight draining out of him. “She’ll forgive you. She loves you, man. That’s why this hurts her so much. But if you go now, you’ll be putting her in even more danger. Is that what you want?”

“No” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

Nate rubbed the back of his neck, looking conflicted. “Look, maybe.. maybe if I can make sure no one’s watching, I could bring you to her. Just for a little while. But we can't bring her here. It’s too risky.”

I sat up, my heart racing. “You’d do that?”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. But only if I’m sure it’s safe. And you have to promise me you’ll stick to the plan after. No running off, no trying to fix everything yourself. We’re in this together, Chris.”

Y/n’s POV

I sat on the couch, my arms crossed tightly over my chest, staring at Chris and Nate as they stood before me. My mind was racing, trying to make sense of everything they had just explained. Why go through all this trouble, faking his death, staging a funeral, paying off people to play cops and priests, when they could have just run away? It felt like an elaborate, unnecessary nightmare.

"You couldn’t just.. leave?” I asked, my voice trembling with a mix of confusion and anger. “Why fake your death? Why not just disappear and start over?”

Chris ran a hand through his hair, his face tight with frustration. “It’s not that simple, Y/n. You don’t just leave someone like Vince. Not without consequences.”

“Consequences?” I scoffed, shaking my head. “You made me think you were dead, Chris. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

Before he could respond, there was a knock at the door. The front door swung open, followed by the living room door. I had called Willow earlier, desperate for someone to help me process this mess. She walked in, her expression a mix of worry and confusion, only for her face to freeze the moment she saw Nate and Chris standing there.

Her jaw dropped, and she turned to me, eyes wide. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”

“It’s not a joke” I muttered, still trying to piece together my emotions.

Willow crossed her arms, glaring at the two of them. “So, what? You’re alive? And you thought it’d be fun to traumatize Y/n for.. what, a laugh?”

“Willow” Nate started, his tone unusually serious, “this isn’t what you think.”

“Oh, I think it’s exactly what I think” she snapped. “You two cooked up some crazy plan, and you didn’t stop for one second to consider how it would hurt her.”

Chris stepped forward, his voice low and steady. “Willow, just listen. Let us explain.”

Willow shot me a look, but I nodded hesitantly, signaling for her to give them a chance.

Chris took a deep breath, glancing at Nate before speaking. “We pieced it all together after.. after Danny.”

Hearing his name sent a chill down my spine. Chris hesitated, as if saying it out loud made the situation even more real.

Chris glanced at Nate, who gave him a subtle nod before leaning forward. “Just leaving..it wouldn’t have worked” Chris said quietly, his tone so certain it made my stomach churn. “Not with Vince.”

I folded my arms, trying to steady myself as my world tilted again. “What do you mean it wouldn’t have worked? You could’ve just left, Chris. You could’ve-”

“It’s not that simple, Y/n.” Nate cut in, his voice sharper than I expected. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration radiating off him. “Vince doesn’t let people leave. Not alive, anyway. You don’t get to walk away from the cartel like you’re quitting some nine to five job.”

Chris leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his eyes locking onto mine. “Danny tried, Y/n.” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “He tried to reason with Vince. Thought maybe if he talked to him, if he was ‘man enough’ about it, that Vince would let him go.”

My breath hitched at the mention of Danny, and I felt my throat tighten. “What.. what are you saying?”

Chris hesitated, his jaw clenching as if the words physically hurt to say. “Danny wasn’t randomly ambushed.” he said finally. “Vince killed him.”

The room fell silent, the words hanging in the air. My mind raced, trying to piece together everything they had told me.

“You’re saying Vince.. murdered him?” My voice cracked, the realization making my stomach churn.

Nate nodded grimly. “Danny wrote a note before he tried to talk to Vince. We found it the day we..” He trailed off, his voice thick with emotion. “He knew trying to leave was dangerous, but he thought he could do it. He thought Vince might respect him enough to let him go.”

“But Vince doesn’t respect anyone” Chris said bitterly, his hands gripping his knees. “Danny was a warning. A reminder to the rest of us that there’s no walking away from this life.”

“Here, if you don’t believe us.” Nate says, pulling a piece of paper from the inside of his waterproof jacket. He held it up so I could read it, not allowing me to touch it.

I felt my stomach drop. “Oh my god. So you think Vince would’ve done the same to you?”

Chris nodded grimly. “If I’d gone to that meeting, yeah. No doubt in my mind. Vince has been testing me for weeks, trying to figure out if I was still loyal. And that was confirmed to me when the mechanic found an airtag stuck to my car after I got the back window replaced.”

“An airtag?” Willow repeated, her brow furrowing.

“Yeah.” Nate said. “That’s how Vince was tracking him. That’s how they knew where he was the night of the shooting. They’ve been following him for God knows how long.”

I stared at Chris, my heart pounding. “The shooting… you’re saying Vince set it up?”

“Shooting?!” Willow exclaims, looking at me in disbelief.

“I’ll explain another time, Will.” I say taking a deep breath in, realising the gravity of all this information.

Chris nodded, his expression dark. “I think it was to scare you off, Y/n. Vince mentioned something about ‘distractions.’ If he thought I was distracted by you, he’d want to eliminate that problem. He probably thought if he scared you enough, you’d leave me.”

My mind reeled. It all made sense now. My hands clenched into fists.

“So, instead of running, you faked your death?” I asked, my voice sharp.

Chris winced. “I didn’t see another way. If Vince thought I was dead, that would be it. He’d never think of me again.”

I sank back into the couch, still sopping wet, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of me. “This is insane. All of it. You made me grieve for you, Chris. You made me believe you were gone.”

Chris stepped closer, his eyes full of guilt. “I know, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. But I was trying to protect you. I didn’t want you to get caught up in this any more than you already are.”

Willow, who had clearly been rocked by this information, spoke up. “Okay, so what now? You’re alive, Vince thinks you’re dead, but for how long? And what about Y/n? What’s happens next?”

Chris exchanged a look with Nate, and for the first time, I saw hesitation in his eyes. “That’s why we need to figure out what comes next.”

My chest tightened. “We?”

“Yes, we.” Nate said firmly. “We need your help”

I locked eyes with Chris, waiting for him to speak up.  “I’m not leaving you behind, Y/n. Not after everything.”

I wanted to argue, to tell him that I wasn’t going anywhere with him, but deep down, I knew there was no escaping this now. Vince’s shadow loomed over both of us, and until it was gone, we’d never be safe.

Willow looked between us, her expression softening slightly. “Well, if you’re running, you’re not doing it alone. You’ll need help. And I’m not letting Y/n go through this by herself.”

Chris gave her a small nod of appreciation, but his focus was back on me. “Y/n, I know this isn’t fair. I know I’ve hurt you. But I need you to trust me. Please.”

I met his gaze, my heart heavy with the weight of everything he was asking. Trusting him meant stepping into a world I never wanted to be a part of, but not trusting him meant facing Vince alone.

For better or worse, I knew what my choice had to be.

a/n: i really hope this was easy to follow this chapter WRECKED my head trying to get the order of events to make sense

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @bernardsbunny @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend @lvrsturniolo @sophand4n4 @ilovepurpledragons @mattsside @riasturns @sturnslutz @chrisstxrnsaxe @2prcntmilkluvr

[the-universal-sun]

little stan crying for his mom and ford/fidds having to try and comfort him 🤞🤞🤞🤞

Nonny, I had a hard time deciding on whether I wanted to do Ford or Fidds as Stan’s caregiver, but I decided there wasn’t enough Stan and Fidds! Forewarning, there is mention of death of a loved one and some minor cursing! So, please don’t read if this is sensitive, uncomfortable, or triggering for you!

Stanley’s had a rough day. No scratch that, he’s had a rough week. No, scratch that, he’s had a rough life. But he thinks today might just take the cake for how damn shitty his life is. He got a call from Shermie today, technically Ford did because he, Stanley, is literally dead to his family. And now normally he likes his calls with Shermie, the updates on his nephew and his eldest brother's life are a nice reprieve from the tourists and the portal work, but he wishes he never picked up the phone today. Shermie didn’t call to update him on his son's college life or how California is. He called to tell him that mom passed. Their mom. His mom. She’s gone, going into the ground and he’ll never see her again. Hug her again, never talk to her again. Or taste her Latkes, she’s never going to send him Sufganiyots every holiday season.  He’s never going to be around his Ma’ ever again. He hasn’t been around her since the fake funeral, and now he’ll never get the chance to again.

He slid down the wall he balanced himself on when he first heard the news, the telephone hanging by the cord, he didn’t even realize he dropped it, were his hands shaking? He’s on the floor, but his knees still feel so weak, why? He lifts his shaking hands up to his face, wiping off the tears that keep streaming down his face, his white shirt already darkening where the missed tears hit. His chest hurt and his head felt tight, or was that the other way around? He doesn’t know, he doesn’t think. He doesn’t want to think. He can’t think. He just wants his mama, to be held in her arms again like he used to, before he got too big and grown up to be held and rocked, with her stories and lullabies. He can’t even stifle his sobs, and he hates himself for it because he’s a man and men don’t cry. He didn’t cry when Flbrick passed. Hell, he didn’t even show up to the funeral, so why is he sobbing like a baby now?

“Stanford? Stanford are you there? I-I know this is a lot to process, but I need your help planning her funeral. Can you-” At Shermie’s mention of a funeral, Stan let out a wail before he clasped his hands over his mouth, not wanting to alert Fidds or Shermie to his aching chest and furthering fuzzy head. He’s so in his head that he doesn’t hear Fiddleford’s footsteps or register his voice.

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“Stanley, are you alright? I heard a noise an’ I-” Fiddleford stops short at the scene in the kitchen. He takes a moment to process what he’s seeing. Stanley’s sobbing on the floor with the phone off the hook. He can hear someone’s tinny voice coming through the hanging phone. He walks over to Stan, kneeling down and trying to see his face.

           “Stan? Hon, are you alright? What happened?” He asks quietly, voice panicked. Is Stan hurt? He doesn’t see anything indicating that, and Stan’s usually so strong against pain, he’s only seen him cry when regressed….Oh dear. Oh this isn’t good. Stan was having a good day, a really good one, until he briefly stepped away from dinner to take a phone call and now he’s on the floor sobbing and most likely regressed. Fiddleford pulls at his hair, not as hard as he used to before Stan but still hard enough to get him to focus. Focus and be calm is what he needs to do. He’s a Father, a Big Brother, and a Caregiver, he can deal with tears. He can do this. He takes a deep breath in, exhales it out, and stands up, grabbing the phone on his way. He’s going to see who and what just upset his baby.

“Stanford! C’mon man! I need you to talk to me here-” Fiddleford heard from the telephone receiver as he brought it up to his ear.

“Dr. McGucket, who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?” He asked coldly, not liking the angry tone of the man on the other end. This is the one who probably upset his Pumpkin, and he will not stand for that yelling or anything as such directed towards his family. It doesn’t matter who the man on the other end is, he will shut down any and all attempts to strong arm or deride Stanley.

“Dr. Mc-What it? Listen, I need to speak with Stanford right now, so just-put him back on the phone. It’s important family stuff, so, none-ya-business-” came the irritated reply from the man steadily making an enemy out of a one Fiddleford Hadron McGucket.

“I’m Stan’s research partner, Dr. Fiddleford McGucket, and Stanford is currently-” he looks down at his boy, still sobbing, but now wrapped around his legs, and his eyes softened, “-indisposed at the moment. I assure you, Sir, that I’ll be sure to relay any messages back to him. Now, I ask again, who are you and what’s your business with Stan?”

“It’s Shermie, his big brother. Listen, I’ll call back whenever he’s not uh- “indisposed”-” Fiddleford can just hear the air quotes, “and all. Just let him know that I need help with Ma’s funeral, okay, Dr. Whatever? Bye.” Fiddleford hears that dial tone and his heart feels heavy in his chest. Oh no, oh his poor, poor baby. He loved his mama so much, always smiled for hours after talking to her, and now she’s-

Fiddleford lowers himself to kneel beside Stan, whose arms are still wrapped around his leg, and gently lifts his face to look at him. He sees Stan’s tear stained face, his lips in the biggest and wobbliest frown he’s ever seen on his boy's face and he finds himself at a loss for words.

“Oh Honey, I’m so sorry about your Ma’.” Is the only thing he can think to say at the moment.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Hearing those words, Stan feels the ache in his tummy get worse, his throat burns, and he can’t stop the new tears as they go down his face. He wasn’t dreaming it or thinking wrong, if Fidds’ is saying that, then Mama must really be gone, but he doesn't want her to be gone! He wants to hug his Mama now!

He buries his head in Fidds’ chest, sobbing so hard he finds it hard to breathe. He knows he’s gettin’ tears an’ snot on Fidds’ nice white shirt, but he doesn’t say anything. He just rocks them and rocks them, and pats his back and talks to him. Stan can’t hear what he’s saying, but he always likes to hear his voice, Stan’s always found it so nice to listen to his Fidd speak to him, even though he can’t understand what he says.

He feels Fidds chest rise and fall in a big way, and matches it because Fidds taught him that to calm him down when he’s feeling these big emotions, when he can’t swallow and his tummy hurts like it does now. He looks up at Fidds, and he can’t say what the look on his face is, but it makes Stan's tummy ache worse, so he just buries his face in the shirt again.

He feels himself being lifted up and walked somewhere. He doesn’t want to walk anywhere, but his knees were hurting sitting down, so he guesses this is fine. He blinks when a bright light turns on and he’s sat down. They’re in the bathroom? He sniffles, bringing his hand up to rub his eyes and looks around, he’s confused on why they’re here, he doesn’t want to take a bath. He doesn’t want to do anything but lay down with Poindexter and cry and miss Mama. Except he doesn’t want to do that either because it hurts to cry and miss her, it always does, but there’s no more calling her when he misses her any more because she’s gone! His lips wobble and he can feel the tears in his eyes again, but he doesn’t want to cry again, he’s a big boy and big boys don’t cry! Stan startles when he feels a warm and wet washcloth gently touch his face, wiping away his snot and tears. He looks at Fidds, who’s kneeling in front of him with a serious look on his face.

“Now, Stanley, I know what you’re going through is hard. It’s the toughest thing anyone can go through, so it’s alright to cry. Ah!” Fidds cuts off when Stan shakes his head, “None o’ that, Love Bug, crying is healthy and good for the soul. Lord knows I’ve done enough crying to know how it can feel like a release. So it’s okay to cry, you loved your Ma’, and it’s a painful feeling, that loss. I lost my momma when I was about to graduate high school, and it was the hardest thing I’ve been through. I cried like a baby every day for weeks. Does that make me less of a man?” Stan quickly shook his head, feeling dizzy from the force of it. Fidds was one of the manliest people he knows (excluding the entire Corduroy family), he’s super duper smart, and he can cook, and he can chop woods, and Stan saw him tackle a Deer once! Fidds is so cool, smart, and manly!

“Exactly, crying is nothing but a human emotion, and you’re a human, you can let yourself feel your emotions, Stanley. I promise you, I will not make fun of you, no teasing, no nothing of the sort, ya’hear?” Stan nods his head, “Good. It’s okay to grieve, I want you to grieve, I want you to remember your Ma’, all the good she’s brought in your life and how much love she filled it with, I want you to always remember her, okay?” Stan feels more tears fall down his face, his Fidds is so wise. He knows how to help Stanley, what to say and do, even when Stanley doesn’t know why he’s feeling a sort of way, or can’t find himself to speak or think. He loves his Fidds, he wishes he had him as a dad instead of him, then life would’ve been super better, probably great even!

“But, don’t get stuck in your feelings, you can remember and love your Ma’ all you want and need, but you need to remember there’s other people that care about you. I care about you so much, so many people in town care about you. So when you find yourself feeling too much about your Ma’ or your past, remember your present and the people here that love you. Remember me, Stanley, remember how I love you as much as I love to breathe. Remember that you’re my baby, that I love taking care of you, that I love being here, in the now, with you. Can you do that for me, Sweetpea?” Stan sniffles and throws his arms around Fidds’ neck sobbing into him. He also loves his Fidds! He loves how he cuts his sandwiches just right, how he does the voices when he reads to him, he loves how Fidds doesn’t call him stupid or girly. He loves how he can just be small around him, that he’s allowed to cry. Fidds would be such a good Pa’.

Stan feels Fidds softly pat his back as he cries again, for what feels like forever this time. When he feels his tears stop, he sniffles and leans back, wiping his nose on his hand. He giggles as he feels Fidds swipe at his face with the cloth again, covering his face from the ticklish feeling of the cold water. He softly pushes Fidds’ hands away with a soft spoken “stop”, breathy from his giggling. 

“There’s my boy! Now, I think we both need an early bedtime, hmm? What do ya’ about getting in your comfiest pajamas-I’m thinking your Whale long johns-and getting cozy in bed with Poindexter and “Goodnight Moon”? How ‘bout it?” Stan nods his head slower this time, crying always makes his head hurt. He doesn’t want to think anymore right now, he just wants to cuddle his Fidds, Poindexter too of course, he couldn’t leave out his bestest friend, and fall asleep under a warm blankie. Fidds helps him off the toilet seat and into their room, helping him step into his fuzzy whale pajamas and tucking him tight into bed. All the way up from his feet to his neck, just how he likes, and finishing with a forehead kiss that has scrunching his nose up into an adorable smile before settling under the covers with the book open. 

“In the great green room there was a telephone and a red balloon…” Fiddleford began reading.

And, as he drifts off to sleep surrounded by warmth and love, he lets out a whispered “G’night, papa”, which squeezes Fiddleford’s heart, which in turn means he squeezes his boy even tighter, resting his head on top of his Stanley’s. Promising, to both himself and the little nestled right here in his arms, that he’ll never waver in love and devotion to his little family.

[irisintheafterglow]

One-Shots

Gojo Satoru

You Are In Love - "you're my best friend," and you knew what it was

...Ready For It? - knew he was a killer first time that I saw him

Hits Different - it hits different 'cause it's you (or, struggling in a situationship with gojo satoru)

Never Grow Up - meeting megumi for the first time

The Archer - all of my enemies started out friends, can he hold on to you?

invisible string - the first time megumi uses ten shadows

even in my worst times, you see the best in me - being the strongest has its downsides, but at least you're suffering with him

life's no fun without a good scare - you have the brilliant idea of playing hide and seek in a corn maze against the most powerful sorcerer in the world. should be fun, right?

it's all me, just don't go (meet me in the afterglow) - satoru is jealous but refuses to admit it.

every dead end street led you straight to me - former fuckboy gojo has some things to say at the top of a mountain

i hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this! - coworkers to lovers with a healthy amount of teenage eavesdropping

he's the death you chose (you're in terrible danger) - married life with husband!gojo means cleaning up bodies at 2am.

Geto Suguru

The Great War - somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

Back to December - you gave him all your love and all he gave you was goodbye

say you'll remember me - you were destined to fail from the start, so why does it hurt so badly when he's gone?

dazzling haze, mysterious way about you, dear - need some fluff after reading all the angst above?

tell me that you love me, love me 'til my lips turn blue - being partnered with suguru on a mission takes an unexpected turn

what if all i need is you? - after failed attempts to find a date to a relative's birthday party, your best friend acts as your fake boyfriend.

Nanami Kento

of daisies and collisions - nanami kento felt a little out of his element, with a small bundle of flowers sitting in his lap and brooding in the dark corner of the jazz bar. yet, you play that song he likes again, and nothing else matters.

Blurbs/Drabbles

the stakes are high, the water's rough, but this love is ours - holding satoru and letting him rest, even if it's only for a little bit

it took so long to know someone like you - he doesn't know who he is with you and it scares both of you

bad days and blanket burritos - good ol' satoru bf fluff

Imagines/HCs

And the touch of a hand lit the fuse

how gojo and geto react to their partner being obsessed with them (fluffy !!!)

Gojo Satoru

What, like it's hard? -> law student!gojo / university!gojo

general hcs

when he buys a motorcycle

flirting via the library

I'm with the band -> rockstar!gojo

rockstar!gojo meet sexyy

the valentine's day show

quiet moments and teaching you guitar

awards show

Falling for you, on and off the ice -> hockey player!gojo

someone steals your usual rink slot

watching a game

living in winter, i am your summer - he's terrible at figure skating

Kachow -> professional racer!gojo

on the radio

smoke his ass! - pro racer!gojo needs some motivation after a newcomer to the track pisses him off

Geto Suguru

oops? - satoru finds out that you've been seeing his best friend

a quiet moment in the aquarium

napping with you :)

scare actor!suguru

Save a horse, ride a cowboy -> gunslinger!suguru

gunslinger!geto au

big iron - he's not the first to go after the crystal-eyed bandit, but something tells you that this one will keep his promise to buy you a drink when the hunting is done.

Theta Phi Fuckhead -> enemy frat!suguru

ancient grudge, new mutiny

move fast, keep quiet

half the things that haven't happened yet

Series Masterlists

End Game (volleyball captain!gojo x you) COMPLETED

Co-Parenting Megumi with Satoru COMPLETED

I Don't Wanna Live Forever (gojo x you during shibuya) COMPLETED

VIGILANTE SHIT (vigilante!au, IN PROGRESS)

[spideyhexx]

tw; death

being Coriolanus’ friend in the Capitol and Sejanus’. Sejanus was more-so, since he’s a bit more friendly given the fact you always showed him kindness. You flirted with him, and he flirted back. He might’ve held your hand a couple times. Hugged you tight in your bed during difficult moments. Maybe you kissed him on his rooftop garden after he told you how pretty you were. Nothing more than that.

Coriolanus wasn’t that close. You spoke to him, gossiped with him, studied with him, but there was always a wall put up, and you were not one to break it down. Still, he was a friend.

You’re devastated when they leave to be peacekeepers. Only for a few months to pass and Coriolanus is back, alone. Sejanus’ death already spread to you and his family before Coriolanus came back.

And it hits you hard. You don’t leave your room for weeks. You’re given some of Sejanus’ belongings, courtesy of his Ma, who thought her son’s most talked about person deserved a remnant of his. You sleep with his blanket until it doesn’t smell like him anymore. You wear his necklace. When you finally get yourself outside, maintain your appearance to what it used to be, it’s still a facade. Inside, you’re cracking at the seams. If one person utters the name, you’d be sobbing at a street corner.

When Coriolanus is back, he feels cold. Distant. You blame it on yourself. Maybe you’re the one that’s cold and distant. And you give him a fake friendliness back. He plays along, but his guilt is eating at him too much.

He gets it in your head that Sejanus wanted to marry you. Wanted to live a nice life in the districts, helping people alongside you. Or even that Sejanus would suffer in the Capitol if it meant being at your side. That he wanted to call you more, but his actions as a traitor preoccupied him.

Not all of this was false, but Coriolanus exaggerates it. He wants your grief to end because it’s stressing him out. He tried to tell you anything he can come up with, he spends nights thinking of what Sejanus has said of you and how he can make it more so that you’re quenched, accepting of the boy’s death.

But it never comes. Instead, one day, Coriolanus is so fed up, he plans to yell at you when he sees you. To get it through your head that your beloved Sejanus Plinth is dead and gone and you need to move on, or else you’ll end up a shadow of yourself the rest of your life.

But when he goes to your home, your mother is crying. He expects the worst but somehow the words that fall from your mother’s lips are worse than death. You left for district 12. To be where Sejanus was. Where he died.

Coriolanus learns you left a note, took all the money you had saved from allowances and hopped on the next train. How you got past the peacekeepers who knew you, knew your family, he isn’t sure. But he never hears from you again.

Part of him aches about it. Wanting to know if you’re alive. If you made it to District 12, if you could even stand it. Your mother was sure you’d come back as soon as your feet hit the mud, but you didn’t.

Coriolanus eventually comes to think you were better off running away. Once you got over the grief, Coriolanus was sure you’d question him too much about what happened. You’d come to your senses and wonder more about the circumstances of Sejanus’ death. Coriolanus can lie, but you were always a pry-er. Another part of him wanted you to be dead so he didn’t have to worry.

But again. He never hears from you. Never again. Nothing to worry about.

let's chat, here :)

psst. let me know what you think pretty please :)

[aeonstale]

JING YUAN — THE GENERAL'S ADVISOR

[17:56]. Being the general's lover while being his advisor was a challenge. Between falling for his charms and having to force him to complete his work. (slight spoilers for 1.2, gn reader) word count ★ 498 note ★ second work after like a year lmao.

Rushed footsteps sounded through the corridor, arms struggling to hold stacks of papers. You opened the door in a loud slam muttering a not so sincere apology. The sight of your superior sleeping peacefully halted your walk. His hair covering that beautiful face of his, head nestled in the warmth of his crossed arms set on the table. Jing yuan looked adorable.

You walked toward him, gently setting the papers down. You fished out your phone and set an alarm to ring in the next ten (10) seconds, as well as setting the volume to the highest point. 

Putting the phone close to his ear, you slowly backed up, counting the seconds in your mind. 

7…6…5…4…3…2…1!

The loud ringing of the alarm shook the sleeping man awake. You smiled at his alerted face, now making your way back to his desk. “ glad to see you awake sleeping beauty~” Your hand gently stroking his disheveled hair. “ What makes you so alert? ” the general looked at you, unamused. You tried to bite back the smugness, but it was so hard when you caught the dozing general off guard. 

Jing yuan noticed this and sighed, “ I can't believe my own lover would do this to me, how cruel.” he fake cried. 

You stared at him with a dead panned face. 

“ I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t sleeping more than you work.’’ You took a few papers and started what jing yuan calls ‘ bore to death talks ’. Funny title if it weren't you who made the talk.

Not even ten minutes in has jing yuan started to doze off, and each time you hit him with the papers. Hard. Ignoring his whines, you continued on with your reports occasionally finding yourself waking him up more often then you’d liked. 

“ These are the reports from the divination commission, Miss Fu Xuan would like you to get back to her as quickly as possible.” you left out the part where she threatens him if he doesn’t. Glancing up, you sigh at the general. Fast asleep already.

‘ I don't blame him, after all he’s been through with the stellaron hunters and that phantylia..’ a part of you wants to smack him awake again so he can finish working, however another part wished to let him. 

As his advisor, you should’ve chosen the first one. 

But the soft look on his face as he dreams of whatever warms your heart. If it’s for a while, it won’t hurt to indulge him, right?

Placing the paper works on the table, you set an alarm for two hours. This time you lower the volume. Crossing over the table separating you both, by gently placing his head on your laps you start playing with his hair. Unconsciously braiding a few strands. 

“ For now, rest well Jing yuan.” 

Unbest to you, said man was aware of your actions. A soft smile spread across his lips. But for his sake, you pretended not to see.

©—jingyuqn. 2023

[pizzabox-box]

Haha hi good morning I woke myself up with this one I was thinking about it so hard. I may look back on this in four hours and have regrets. Hi Peppino I'm taking you up on your offer...

Noise and Doise broke apart and stumbled to opposite sides of the arena. Noise winced as he realized he was one good hit away from collapsing. That was his fault - he hadn't taken his intruder seriously until he had gotten critically wounded. Fortunately, the Doise was in a similar condition. Noise was certain that was because he had been using bombs instead of -

He spotted the rock barreling down towards his head just in the nick of time and jumped backwards. The projectile burst into a cloud of blue-gray dust from the impact, almost blinding him. He barely saw his assailant lunging towards him, narrowly avoiding the final blow. Two figures, completely covered in blood and dust, rolled out of the cloud, trying to get and stay on top of each other to finish the other off. The observers could barely tell them apart - in fact, even Noisette wasn't sure who her Noise was!

Suddenly, one of the figures was yanked off the stage by an unseen force, and with a sickening crack, his neck was broken and he was unceremoniously dropped to the floor. Immediately, the uncanny tendrils that had covered the studio started to recede, releasing their captives and returning the set to its former glory, if slightly color shifted.

Noisette stepped forward, a little nervous. "Theo?" she asked, shakily. The remaining figure turned to her and sighed with relief. "Noisette, are you all right?" he exclaimed, rushing up to her. Noise and Noisette hugged, and Dougie Jones ran to his master's side and started to heal him. The rest of the cast also gathered around him, generally asking about his well-being. Noise assured them all that all he needed now was a shower, a change of clothes, and some fresh makeup, and he'd be ready to start filming again.

However, the little Noisy was acting slightly odd. He tried to call attention to the body that was lying in the dust not three yards away. Noisette picked the little creature up and hugged him. "Aww, are you worried he's gonna hurt daddy again?" she asked. "Don't worry," Noise reassured them, "I'll make sure nobody ever sees that - that - THING, ever again!" The two decided to return home to get cleaned up and recover, and left the set, with a squirming Noisy in tow.

Later that night, Peddito returned to the studio. Something still felt off about the whole situation. He inspected the blue-gray, bloody corpse carefully, trying to see if Doise could have POSSIBLY faked his death - but no. The body was real, and stone-cold dead. So what felt so wrong? He looked up - and if he could have died again, he would have from the shock.

Standing in front of him was another phantom. He wore the same clothes he had in life, permanently tinted the color of Doise's stones, cape and costume. Under his mask, his face was completely blacked out. Peddito couldn't see his expression, but he could hear him as he asked, "What... happened? Why does my head hurt so much... who are you?" Peddito tensed up and took a fighting stance. "Don't play dumb with me, Doise! You might have followed me into the afterlife, but I'll make sure you burn - "

They were interrupted by a Noisy loudly climbing in through a window. The wee beastie ran straight towards the body and started rubbing against his face, looking straight at Peddito. The phantom gently but swiftly scooped the critter up, exclaiming, "No, don't mess with that! He could still - " he stopped short. If he had had blood left to run cold, it would have. "No," he muttered, barely able to get the word out, "it can't be!"

Pulling the fresh yellow suit on, Doise laid Noise's extensive collection of makeup on the bathroom counter and looked in the mirror as he put on his disguise, laughing triumphantly. The cast, the crew, the bosses, the wife, even Peddito - he had tricked them ALL!

Blind Man's Bluff

OH THIS IS GOOD. Send shivers down my spine, dang! Doise you sneaky little motherf- Oh, Peddito you got tricked, all of you got tricked actually, oh the poor Noisey...

If you're willing to continue to continue the story I'm willing to read more 👀 It has a really interisting premise

Glad that my work inspired others! :D

He doesn't regret anything.

Conveniently your story also answers this ask that has been laying in my inbox for a while.Double thanks! :D

[crithaus]

It's 2 am but I'm awake so tlovm fans get this right in the episodes where Percy and gang are retaking Whitestone, specifically the ones where Vax is mind controlled and they've just escaped the residuum melting acid tank, Keyleth and Vex both call him via the magic earrings trying to snap Vax outta being bisexually mind controlled and keyleth gives him a half seconds pause, barely anything but Vex fakes dying in the ACID on her turn, lies through her pearly little teeth to him and that stops Vax dead in his tracks for a second, it's enough to shake him outta damn mind control by former cerberus assembly archmage delilah goddamn briarwood for a moment

I will scream a new singularity into the universe, and they keep talking for a moment actually and right after Matt-as-delilah asks Vax just who tbe fuck he's whispering to he LIES, RAW Vax should have told Sylas and Delilah right then and there that the acid trap failed but he lies by ommission to protect his sister and family and girlfriend, sobs, and then when they're all seconds before the actually ziggurat fight Matt is explaining the parameters of mind control to Liam, yea sure Vox Machina is still technically your friends but the Briarwoods are your new friend-ier friends now and if shit pops off youll be protecting the briarwoods, and Liam's like :/, mostly accurate quote, "so if I see," points to Laura, "her, the most important person in the world to me, I wanna fight her?" Like twinnies on top forever I fear, he would punt scanlan off of the ziggurat for free at that moment but Gods forbid he has to lay a hand on his sister, and then he's like well I'll just guard Delilah's body and not hit anyone anyway, he isn't even willing to entertain the idea of fighting Vex (and co but...)

And then like during the fight after sylas dies, like sam said that tlovm is its own canon and also that the twins specifically got so wicked pulverized throughout the entire campaign that he had to start giving all but their very biggest owies to everyone else so the runtime wasn't 140+ minutes of footage from exandrian intensive care but I'm still SAD about Keyleth getting Delilah's last hurrah attack instead of vex cuz Vex was DYING, in a room with a magic dampening sphere too so no healing and Vax was like hey dm I will run up this 90° wall to reach my sister take those laws of gravity and shove them up ur ass my boy, like she was getting tossed around like a ragdoll, Liam was going to cry it was awesome, he had tunnel vision and it was getting vex somewhere safe and blowing all their useless potions on her, he wouldn't put her down until keyleth started testing fate fucking with the endless abysmal orb, Vex was fine but oh man the future of her death at the hands of something Percy was involved in?? Foretold tens of episodes before, insane how an unscripted dnd game shakes out

Anyway twinnies goes insanely insanely hard in the campaign it's unreal it's wild, Liam spent 2 and a half whole hours in one of his trials of the take episodes mourning by his own admission his sister being gone for about 8 hours away from Him, i am a codependent siblings enjoyer and this shit will feed you

also I fear I need to reiterate, twinnies? Perfect, no notes. Twincest? An abomination, please do not misconstrue my affections here abeg

[saddleups]

hey diva… love your work you’re doing for the james sunderland girlies… we are a rare breed and im loving our representation. also saw you are looking to write for mgs and let me say… i am SO EXCITED RAAAA. would love to see some solid snake x reader during mgs2 smut 🙏 there is so much potential for angst with the whole double identity/fake dying and you slay the hell out of that.

anyway… thank you queen for your service ❤️

★ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 . . . 3.6k

★ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 . . . request , complete. SOLID SNAKE ( DAVID ) X F!READER !! 18+ SMUT MDNI !!

★ 𝐂𝐖 . . . death . grieving/trying to move on . they are kind of mean to each other ? rough/angry sex . slapping p_rn with a little plot !

★ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . . omg diva :') i love you for this but i think i need to be sedated. this takes place after he fakes his death but before he helps raiden, if the context even matters ? idk don't ask me about mgs lore i'll start crying lmao

There was always a car parked outside your window, an unremarkable presence that somehow offered comfort—a silent sentinel ensuring your safety. Day after day, it lingered, a fixture of your life, almost as though it were watching over you in his stead. But today, for the first time, someone stepped out. You watched as a man exited the car, hesitated in the driveway, then straightened his coat and approached your porch.

A gentle knock echoed through the stillness, and with dread weighing down each step, you opened the door. The man before you was plain, almost forgettable. He wore a hat that cast shadows over his face, his gaze obscured behind thick glasses he adjusted with shaking fingers. He couldn’t look at you, eyes darting to the floor, as though seeking a way to soften the blow he was about to deliver. But you already knew. You could feel it—a familiar, creeping cold that began in your chest and spread like ice through your limbs.

“Ma’am, I'm sorry but...your fiancé is dead.”

The words were soft, like a whisper from another world, but they hit with brutal force, each syllable closing in around you like a vice. His words crashed against you, and in the hollow silence that followed, all you could hear was David’s voice echoing in your mind. How many times had he warned you, tried to push you away, his face grim and serious, telling you that loving him would come with risks you couldn’t yet fathom? You’d heard him, but you’d never truly listened. You’d been so sure that this wasn’t something you’d ever have to face—that the risk was part of who he was, not of who you were. He had been so insistent, as though trying to prepare you, in his own way, for the life that followed in his shadow.

You thought you could bear the long silences, the days and nights spent wondering where he was and whether he’d make it back to you in one piece. You thought the sacrifices were worth it, believing love could shield you from the reality of his work. But standing here now, with the weight of those words still settling over you, you finally understood the depth of the danger you’d dismissed, the gravity he’d tried so hard to make you see.

The world outside dulled into a low hum, and inside, the air thickened, pressing in from all sides. Your knees trembled as the walls seemed to close in around you. But before you could collapse, the man’s hands reached out to steady you, grounding you just enough to keep you on your feet.

"He was a hero."

Of course he was.

Time moved on around you, indifferent to the hollow ache in your chest. The seasons changed, the leaves turning, falling, and growing back again, but you hadn’t let him go. His side of the bed was always untouched, pillows fluffed and blankets smoothed, as though he’d walk in any moment, casting off his jacket and boots, filling the space with his warmth.

His clothes remained in the closet, his razor and toothbrush undisturbed in the bathroom. To you, it felt as if the world might have forgotten him, but you couldn’t, and even though your mother insisted it was time, you couldn’t bring yourself to remove your ring. To you, he was still yours, no matter what anyone else believed.

Eventually, at your mother’s urging and your friends’ encouragement, you tried to pick up the pieces. It wasn’t easy, but little by little, you let yourself imagine a future—one that didn’t hurt as much as the memories you held onto.

Tonight, after months of emptiness, you had finally agreed to a date. He was nice, polite, everything you might’ve wanted if you’d met him in another life, under different circumstances. And even though you’d forced yourself to smile and engage, trying to find a spark of something, your heart was still somewhere else, tangled up with someone who wasn’t coming back.

As he walked you to your porch, your date paused, his gaze lingering a bit too long, that expectant look in his eyes clear as he offered to stay the night. You hesitated, your hand on the doorknob, and smiled apologetically, murmuring a gentle, “Not tonight.” You leaned in to kiss him softly, hoping he’d take it for what it was—a polite goodnight and nothing more. He accepted it, albeit with a disappointed smile, and waved as he headed back down the steps.

Part of you wished he didn't. You couldn't help but to feel guilty, but it'd been so long since you felt the touch of another man. The sensation of feeling ravished, relentlessly. "I'm acting like a bitch in a heat." You muttered to yourself as you unlocked the door and stepped inside. The familiar quiet settling around you, a calm you hadn’t been able to recreate with anyone else. But then you froze, feeling a presence in the room.

There, sitting at the edge of the couch, looking like he’d just walked out of one of your dreams—or nightmares—was David. He watched you, a small, almost sheepish smile playing on his lips, and your heart slammed into your ribs. He looked tired, his clothes worn, his hair a bit longer than usual. And he was unmistakably, undeniably alive.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression hovering somewhere between amused and wounded. “So… nice date?”

As you stared, struggling to process the sight of him sitting there like a ghost brought to life, David’s hand shifted, revealing something small and gleaming between his fingers. Your engagement ring. The one you’d left tucked in a drawer after trying to let him go. He turned it idly in his hand, the light catching on the band as he ran his thumb over the smooth metal, almost absently. It was like he was testing the weight of it, feeling its significance without quite understanding it.

It was odd seeing David have such an attachment to it. He never wore his own, swore it was for your safety. Nobody could know that The Solid Snake had a tether to the earth, they'd kill you for it. It never bothered you much, especially after his assumed death you dramatically convinced yourself that, perhaps, your own death would've been kinder.

He shrugged, a small, almost cocky smile playing on his lips, and he held the ring up with a casual flick. “Didn’t expect to see you… moving on so fast.” He tried for humor, his tone light, almost teasing. “Guess I can’t blame you for needing a warm body around. You must’ve missed me.”

Seeing him holding that ring, the very symbol of the life and love you’d mourned, felt like a slap in itself. You took a shaky breath, heart pounding as the reality of it—the casualness, the nerve—sank in. Your shock turned to anger, and you clenched your fists at your sides.

Noticing your demeanor, David stepped closer. He reached out his hand and the anger that had been simmering finally erupted. Before he could touch you, your hand shot out, slapping him hard across the face. The sound echoed through the room, the sharpness of it as raw as the pain he’d left you with. His head snapped to the side, and he froze, his cheek reddening where you’d struck him.

You took a shaky breath, every part of you shaking with the tension you’d held back for so long. “Do you think this is a fucking joke?”

His smile faltered, his expression shifting as he took in the fury in your eyes. “I… Look, it was part of the mission,” he said, a hint of guilt creeping into his tone. “I thought it’d be easier if—”

“If you let me think you were dead?” you cut him off, voice rising. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? What it’s like to believe I lost you for good?”

David’s face fell, the weight of your words finally settling in. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I thought you’d… be okay.”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes as everything poured out. “Do you know what it’s been like, David? Trying to live without you? I thought I’d lost you forever. I went on a date tonight because I thought I had to let you go!” Your voice cracked. “And now you’re just… sitting here, like it’s nothing?”

For a moment, he was silent, his expression growing somber. Then, quietly, he reached out a hand to you, regret darkening his gaze. “I didn’t understand how much it would hurt you, baby. I was wrong. And I’m sorry.”

“Fuck you,” you whispered, barely holding yourself together. “You left me to grieve you. To go through all of that alone. And now you’re just here, acting like it’s no big deal?”

David lowered his head, his voice barely audible. “I’m sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing, but… I see now how wrong I was.”

The anger ebbed, replaced by the pain of everything you’d carried alone, and you couldn’t stop yourself from stepping closer, needing to feel him, to know he was real. His hand reached up to cradle your cheek, and he pulled you into his arms, his voice thick with regret as he murmured, “I’m here now. For good. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me.”

You wanted to stay mad, to push him away—but you couldn’t. His arms around you, his warmth and heartbeat steady against yours, brought a sense of calm you hadn’t felt in so long. For now, you let yourself sink into him, allowing the anger and grief to fade, if only for a moment.

You're such a fool for him.

David kissed the corner of your lip. His hands find their place on your hips. His warmth envelops you, steady and familiar, as if he could melt all the time and distance that had separated you.

His lips capture yours completely, a slow, lingering kiss that feels like a claim, pulling you deeper into the moment, grounding you in his touch.

He pulls back just enough to brush his nose against yours, a faint, teasing smile curving his lips. “You had wine?”

You shiver, his breath warm against your cheek, the scent of him intoxicating. “A little,” you admit, barely a whisper.

“Expensive?” he murmurs, his fingers tracing a gentle line along your jaw, sparking tingles that send a thrill through you.

You nod, biting your lip. “Yeah. He went all out for me.”

David lets out a low, amused chuckle, his hand slipping to the small of your back, pulling you closer. “God… and you didn’t even put out?”

You can feel his heart beating against yours, the intensity in his gaze holding you captive. “Because,” you say softly, voice catching as you press your forehead to his, “I missed you.”

“Tell me what you missed most,” he murmurs, his voice a low, teasing drawl as his fingers brush along your waist, his touch both familiar and electrifying.

You open your mouth to answer, the words on the tip of your tongue. “Your coc—” But you catch yourself, cheeks warming as you meet his gaze.

A flicker of amusement dances in his eyes as he leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “Go on…”

You let out a frustrated sigh, trying to steady yourself, to hold onto even a sliver of your anger. “I’m supposed to be mad at you, asshole.”

David chuckles, his thumb grazing your cheek. “I know,” he whispers, his voice soft but unrepentant. “But tell me anyway.”

His lips press against yours once more, filled with urgency and longing. David's strong arms lift you effortlessly and your fingers instinctively wrap around his neck, seeking comfort and security. It feels like a fairy tale as he leads you to the bedroom that was once shared between you both.

With care, he sets you down on the soft mattress, and your hands trace the contours of his back, cherishing every touch as if trying to imprint it in your memory. You have to remind yourself that this is real, that he is here with you now. The scent of his cologne fills the room and adds to the atmosphere of passion and longing, it’d been too long.

His lips press hard against your neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses that ignite your skin. You can feel the familiar heat radiating off of him and it's almost impossible to resist. "Tell me what you missed," he demands again, his voice dripping with eagerness. He needs to hear it, to know that he still has this hold on you.

You furrow your brows, trying to maintain some semblance of anger as his hands roam freely over your body, disregarding any barriers. But when he whispers in your ear, all thoughts of resistance disappear.

"I missed your cock," you confess brazenly, feeling a rush of arousal at the thought of him buried inside you.

David responds by thrusting his hips against your clothed slit, causing you both to moan in unison. He leans back slightly and groans into your mouth, unable to contain his pleasure at hearing your admission. You reach for his hand and bring it to your face, hungrily licking and nipping at his fingers before taking them into your mouth.

"Did you miss me?" you ask seductively, locking eyes with him. "Did you spend countless nights jerking off thinking of me?" With a devilish grin, you dart your tongue out and trace it along his palm and between his fingers before sucking two of them into your mouth. A fire ignited in you both, parting for air you taunted, “David, you came in this hand didn’t you?” Your saliva is coated between his fingers, “and you wished it was inside my cunt.”

You glare up at him, daring him to say something, to try to justify what he’s put you through. He’d never seen you so forward, he found enjoyment in being the dominant one. His libido getting the better of him, he blamed it on being a man. David doesn’t speak. Instead, he leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a rough, demanding kiss.

"What about you?" He growls, his grip tightening on your hips as he thrusts into you relentlessly.

"Did you finger fuck yourself?" He sneers, each thrust hitting deeper and harder. "With the showerhead? Or did you buy a fake cock to fuck?"

His hands wrap around your throat, choking off your breath. "Why didn't you fuck him?" He demands, his voice dripping with jealousy and possessiveness.

"Your date, or anyone else. Did you know deep down that no one else could stretch your cunt like I can?" His words are filled with rage mixed with betrayal, fueling his rough movements as he claims you.

You can’t let him make you come like this. Clothed, like a bitch in a fucking heat. The second you feel his body shudder above yours, you take advantage of his weakened state. With all your might, you push forward to sit upright. The shift in position, the sudden display of power causes David's eyes to widen.

"On your back, Snake." It isn't a request, it's a demand. And like the loyal dog he is, he quietly obeyed.

Straddling his hips, David's erection is pressed firmly against your core. The dry humping session leaving both of you soaked. You're fine like this. It isn't ideal but, you can easily come with the sensation of his cock against your clit and then leave them him there to fend for himself. But for David? He bit his lip to stifle a whimper. He desperately craved for his release.

"How dare you?" You ask, voice still frayed with anger. With an open palm, you slap him again. A silence washed over you both, David grasped your wrist and kisses the same palm you slapped him with. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled into your hand.

Snatching your hand back, you dismount from his lap to kneel on the bed. Unhooking the straps of your dress revealing your bra, you taunt him. “Maybe I should just leave you here and head out for a real man.” You could feel his cock twitch. The clasp of your bra is now undone and you present him your hardened buds. “For a man who won’t lie to me.”

“No! Baby please.” David begged, “I’m sorry—” he repeated. He straightened his posture, sitting up right to face you. Defeated and pathetically aroused, he exhaled another apology. "Let me make it up to you." His voice was desperate, his cock harder than ever. "I can't take it anymore." He pleaded, gripping his dick in a show of desperation. "I need you so fucking bad."

Impulsively, you press your lips to his in a heated kiss. "Don't make love to me," you command breathlessly, "fuck me." You kiss him again, this time softer, before lifting your dress over your head and tossing it aside without a care. David follows suit, undressing himself in a swift motion. The two of you are naked before each other, locking eyes with an intense flame burning between you. Gathering your courage, you confess to him, "I want you to fuck me, hard.

David lies back on the bed, pulling you on top of him. "Then be a good girl and come get it," he growls in response.

His cock is rigid against your stomach and you run your hands up his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath his skin. David teases your slick opening with the tip of his cock before sliding into you with a powerful thrust. The sensation of his coarse pubic hair brushing against your sensitive skin sends shivers down your spine and elicits a gasp from your lips. David grunts in response, the sound sending waves of desire through you.

Starting off slow, David stretches your tightness as he moves in and out of you. With each thrust, he slaps your ass hard, leaving red handprints behind. The combination of pleasure and pain has you whimpering and gasping for more. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you bite down on your lip to stifle your screams as ecstasy courses through every inch of your body.

"Fuck...you feel so good," David groans, his voice raw with desire. "Tell me how badly you need this dick." His dirty talk only fuels the flames of passion within you and you throw your head back. Mouth agape, you’re moaning loudly as he reaches between your bodies to rub circles on your throbbing clit.

"Please...I need it so bad," you whimper, unable to hold back your desperate need for him. Your body trembles and pulses around him as he continues to thrust into you with a fierce hunger, filling you up and satisfying your every wish.

His eyes spark with a mischievous gleam, "Say my name," he commands.

Feeling shy, you look at him and stutter, "David?"

He clicks his tongue in disapproval.

Suddenly, it hits you. "Snake," you moan in ecstasy.

Gripping your hips, David flips you over onto your stomach without taking his cock out. Your cries of surprise turn into moans of ecstasy as he slams himself back inside you without warning. Grabbing your hips roughly, he angled your body to hit that sweet spot deep within you, making you see stars. His grip on your hips bruises your skin but all you can focus on is the way he pounds into you like a man possessed by a primal need only you can fulfill.

"Is this how you want it?" he growls in your ear as he grinds his hips against yours with a feral intensity. Each impact makes the bed frame creak with your passionate movements, banging against the headboard.

"Yes! More Snake...harder!" You beg for more, arching your back to meet his powerful thrusts. David's balls slapped against your ass cheeks with each brutal thrust, and before long, his heavy breathing and the wet slap of your bodies colliding are the only sounds filling the room.

David's grip on your hips tightens even more, fingers digging into your skin as he fucks you harder and faster, pushing you to the edge of the abyss. Your face is buried in the sheets, gripping on them for dear life. Wet walls squelch and clench around him, words are incomprehensible. “S-Snake, fu-fuck!” It’s caught in your throat, until you release. Your orgasm coming at you fast, hard and unforgiving. “Oh my f-fucking god. Yes!”

"I...I'm... oh God," David pants, his face contorted with pleasure and pain. "I'm going to—" but before he could finish his sentence, his hot, sticky cum spurts inside you, covering both of you in a sticky sheen. He exhales sharply, collapsing back onto the bed spent.

You both lay there panting heavily, trying to catch your breaths as the heat between you cooled. David caresses your cheek lovingly as he whispers apologies in your ear. "I'm sorry for keeping secrets from you... I won't ever do it again... I promise."

The weight of David’s words hung in the air. You turned to face him, chest rising and falling rhythmically as you met his gaze. The hazel of his eyes softened, revealing a rare sliver of vulnerability. His hand, warm and tender against your skin, gently brushes away a stray lock of hair from your forehead. You shifted closer to him, curling into his side and burying your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent mingled with sweat and sweat-soaked sheets.

“We can talk about it in the morning.”

[yona049]

𝐀𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 ♤

Joker x fem!Reader x Jason Todd

Part 2

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°°°°°°°°°°

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

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Disclaimer!

>Head crushing.

>Parent death

>ptsd

>mental patients (Arkam Asylum)

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Y/n just captured by Batman and Red Hood. Only for them to come face to face with her in Wayne mannor. Y/n took the first opportunity she got to dive Jason.

"I'm gonna KILL you, Jason!"

She yelled looking down at the blue eyed boy, dark fluffy hair with a white streak through the front. Jason Todd. The one and only Vigilante Red Hood.

He slowly smirks and moves his hand onto Y/n's cheek giving it a gentle rub with his thumb.

"I missed you too, babe."

He whispers watching Y/n smile for a second before growling again.

"You could've been a little more gentle with the dart! Fake blood is hard to clean out of a clown costume!"

She stands up slowly wobbling a bit, but Jason quickly slips his arm around her waist.

"Gotcha!" he mocks while holding her steady.

"Can't be that bad? Atleast the bullet looked real? Might leave a bruise."

He boops Y/n on her nose making her look back up at him. She sighs and pushes herself onto her toes giving Jason a delicate kiss.

"Thanks for getting me out of there." she whispers against his lips until a certain bat clears his throat.

Y/n smiles and turns to the batman before jump-hugging him.

"Hey, Bruce!"

Batman was much bigger in size, so a hug from him lifted her off the ground until he sat her back down.

He pulls the cowl off his face and gives Y/n a pat on the head.

"Sorry about the wait, Y/n. We weren't sure when you'd be out again. Jason went out on every patrol."

"Awww! Jason!" she teases tossing the Red Hood helmet onto the bed.

She follows shortly after and sits on the fluffy duvet before pulling off the polkadot socks she wore.

"Joker had a long business period! I couldn't get him out of base for anything! It was constant paperwork and gun shipping."

She pulls a small piece of paper out of her sock and hands it to Batman.

"All recent shipments and crate numbers are there. You should be able to find some other interesting numbers."

She falls back onto the bed with another big sigh.

"We eventually went out, but it took a bit of teasing to get him to draw attention to us. I thew a grenade into an empty shop. I hope it helped you find us."

She glances over at Jason who had an annoyed look on his face. Y/n figured it was probably the kiss he walked in on, between her and the Joker.

Batman quickly pulls her from her thoughts.

"I'll look at this. In the mean time I'll have an armored truck take you to Arkam in two days. Best you take a shower and sleep before then. Joker is sure to take you back."

He places his hand on Jason's shoulder heading for the door.

"Y/n. Good job."

Y/n smiles getting some well deserved praise from Bruce Wayne. He finally walks out closing the door, leaving Jason and Y/n alone.

Outside the room Damian Wayne was leaning against the wall with crossed arms. The newest Robin to the family, dressed in a black turtleneck looking mature for his age. Once Bruce walks out he follows him to, presumably the Bat-cave.

"Father! Why have I never heard of this Y/n?"

Bruce unfolds the paper Y/n gave him and starts reading.

"Well, Damian. She's been undercover for a long time, and Jason talks about her alot."

Damian stops dead in his tracks in shock.

"That is his girlfriend! I thought he was making her up since we've never seen her!?"

He runs down the hallway catching up with Bruce who walks up to the piano in the middle of the study. He hits a few keys until the platform underneath their feet starts going down.

"She was before your time. I can give you her file."

Damian nods walking off the platform and into the Bat-cave.

A large caved out space with drip stone covering the walls along with Platforms holding all sorts of other bat related things. The Batmobile, Batman's suits, and finally the large screen, the bat computer.

Damian lifts himself onto the counter watching Bruce pull Y/n's file onto the screen.

A picture of a young Y/n pops up, with short hair and dyed streaks in her hair. She looked like a typical rebellious teen with an angry expression.

________

Y/n L/n. (Alias : Y/n Caster.)

Age : 20

Gotham resident.

Occupation : Criminal.

Parents : James Caster (Deceased)

Abigail Caster (Deceased)

________

Damian lifts an eyebrow and glares at Batman.

"How can her parents have the same last name as Y/n's alias?"

Bruce smirks and hits a few more buttons before another profile pops up on screen. This time a picture of Y/n with a bright smile and longer hair.

"This is her real file, albeit a little out dated."

________

Y/n L/n.

Age : 17

Gotham resident.

Occupation : Student.

Parents : Marideth L/n (Deceased)

Harrion L/n(Deceased)

________

Damian looks settled with his thoughts then asks another question.

"How did This Y/n come to work for Joker? Surely he wouldn't trust some mentally challenged girl!"

Bruce quickly snaps.

"Hey! That's rude Damian."

"Sorry. But I'm still curious!"

With a sigh Batman sits down on the chair.

"It's a long story."

Damian wiggles himself into a comfortable position and hits a button on the bat computer.

"Please bring some popcorn down to the Bat-cave, Pennyworth."

A small confirmation from Alfred and Damian eagerness to listen made Bruce chuckle.

"Very well, If you're so willing. Here's the story of my secret adopted child."

○○○

"Y/n was young at the time. Maybe just 8? Her parents worked at psych Wards all over the world, but eventually they settled at the toughest one of them all."

"Arkam Asylum." Damian answers.

"That's right!" Bruce congratulates.

A large medieval castle with a looming darkness over it. It held the laughter and cries of all their patients.

A young couple rushed into the building holding their coats over their heads. One older man is the first to shake off the droplets with his wife following behind.

"Well! Wasn't expecting your first introduction to our work to start out like that, huh, Y/n?" Her father pats her on the head as she hid underneath his coat.

Mother takes her hand and walks with her down the hallway.

"Now, honey. Remember our deal."

Y/n nods looking around curiously.

"Stay close! Only go where mom and dad says. Don't talk to patients."

Mom giggles and kisses Y/n's forehead.

"Good! Now let's get to the office before we get to the really scary patients!"

Once the family was in the cozy office, Y/n immediately took to the bookshelf covered in different old books.

Dad walks up behind her and points to one specific red colored book. 'The Phycology of a Disheveled Mind.'

He hands it to Y/n who smiles and takes a seat at the big desk with a spinning chair.

A small chuckle from dad as he kneels down beside her.

"We'll be back soon to give you a better tour, first we need to go check on some patients. Read up so I can discuss with you after ok!"

Y/n nods excitedly watching mom place a packet of gummy candies on the table.

"A surgery snack for a buzzing mind." she uses her finger to imitate a bee and makes a buzzing noise before landing her finger on Y/n's nose.

"Love you, Bee!"

Y/n laughs.

"Love you, Mom! Love you, Dad!"

They make a swift exit with clip boards in hand. Soon their both in the ward with patients all around them in cells. Bane, Scarecrow, and a few empty ones awaiting their escaped patients. Like Penguin and Dr Freeze.

"As you can see, Mr Wayne. Your sponsorship is greatly improving our necessary medicines and holding cells." Mom shows.

A young Bruce wearing a tucks and neatly combed hair looks around intently.

"I see, and The patients are treated well?" Bruce asks.

"As well as they can be treated, the staff almost treat them too nicely unfortunately. We had a Doctor try sneaking a machine gun in, a few weeks ago."

Bruce sucks air though his teethad they reached the end of the hallway.

"Well! Keep up the good work you two. I'm glad to see my funds are helping better the mental health of patients."

Saying their goodbyes, Mom and Dad make their way back down the long hallway.

Mom smiled scribbling down some notes.

"Let's get back to Y/n, I'm sure she's pretty sick of that book by now."

Dad laughs and shakes his head disagreeing.

"Our little girl is brilliant! She's probably studying that book cover to cover."

He walks up to a cell and smiles making notes. He looks up at a man wearing a top hat and a grin on his face.

"Good evening, Jervis. How are you feeling tonight."

The man only smiles with a glare towards dad. Dad sighs but keeps his smile.

"You're doing better than yesterday. Don't tell the others. But I brought you a snack!"

He places a round cookie in a tray and pushes it into the cell. With a warm smile the patient grabs the cookie and takes a small bite of it.

"Thanks, Doc!" he grumbles and continues eating the cookie.

Dad smiles happily and nods.

"Your welcome-"

A sudden explosion sends a Shockwave through the hallway causing mom and had hit the wall hard.

The entire building shakes causing Y/n to Scream. She hides under the table as the heavy bookshelf falls straight down onto the ground.

Y/n calls for Mom and Dad but the open office door beckons her to run out to find them.

Back in the Cell block. Scattered debris welcome a Crown Prince of crime, like a red carpet.

Joker was still a very young and very new Criminal in Gotham, so no one expected him to break into Arkam for reinforcements.

He laughs at the chaos he caused with alarms going off and a few Criminals running wild.

He snaps his fingers and points some of his Joker Goons towards Bane's cell.

They make use of another explosive to blast the cell door off its hinges.

Y/n runs in just in time to see her dad hunched over her mom. Mom was trapped under the heavy wall that had been blasted off.

She runs closer already starting to feel the tears run down her face.

"M-mom!"

Dad was bleeding from his head when he looked up at Y/n running towards them. A dark shadow followed behind her.

Bane was about to grab her until dad pulls Y/n behind him and out of the way, just in time for Bane to grab him instead of her.

Dad yells and struggles as Bane holds him off the ground by his head.

"Stop this Bane! We can help! We can Change what happened to- Ugh!"

Y/n stares at her dad in horror, her mom's body unmoving and bent in so many unnatural ways.

"Dad! No! Leave my dad alone!"

Y/n watches in horror before charging towards this huge man. Bane, now only using one hand to hold the entirety of Dads head, smacks Y/n into the wall with great force. A small child getting hit into a hard wall.

She blinks a few times, dizzy from impact but crawls towards her dad. A laughter fuzzy in the background, until a horrible sound fills her ears.

The cracking of bone and a mush before a final thud, as her dads head is crushed.

She froze looking at both of her parents infront of her. But only for a second until a big black cape crosses her eyesight.

"Don't look!" a growled voice. Batman came to save the day, but just too late.

He pulls her into his arms, squeezing her broken terrified body. Once he knew she was in his arms safe, he uses a grappling hook to pull them out of the chaos.

○○○

"After that, we brought her back to Wayne Manor. Even after revealing my identity, she didn't react. She was like a ragdoll for months. Dick tried everything to help her grieve."

Bruce taps his foot thinking back, feeling her little traumatized body.

"It was only after that, when we found Jason again. Jason was so battered and bruised once Joker brainwashed and tortured him. After what Joker did to him, and Joker did to her. They bonded over it."

Damian looks down at the empty popcorn bowl in his lap with a growl.

"How did she manage an under cover mission around the man who killed her parents! I would've taken the first opportunity to cut him with my katana!"

He slips off the table with an angry growl. Before he could storm off Bruce lightly pats his head getting him to calm down.

"Y/n took alot of time to train and work though her anger."

Batman quickly looks to the side when his attention is pulled by a Zooming engine.

A motorcycle echoes though the bat cave and with a screeching holt it stops on one of the platforms.

A blue bird on his chest and incredibly strong build, Dick Grayson also known as Nightwing steps off the bike and lifts his helmet off his head.

"Hey Bruce! Hey Damian!" he walks up to them lifting his mask off his face with a satisfying sigh.

He looks up at the Bat computer and his eyes light up seeing Y/n's picture.

"Y/n's back? It's been forever!"

Batman smiles and nods.

"7 months to be exact."

Damian gasps and growls annoyed.

"You knew about Y/n too?"

"Yes! I helped train her." Dick assured grabbing the empty popcorn bucket Damian was holding.

"I wanna go say Hi before she goes back undercover."

He takes a few kernels, chewing on them a little before patting Damian on the head. Bruce shakes his head and presses a few more buttons.

"Not yet! She's catching up with Jason right now. She needs rest."

Dick stops chewing for a second then places the popcorn bowl down. He looks straight at Bruce with a serious face.

"How long is this gonna go on, Bruce? How long does he have to stay near that phyco?"

Batman stops typing for a second and turns to look at his two boys waiting anxiously for an answer.

"She doesn't want to leave, I've asked her. She's determined to stay." he looks down a little worried.

"Y/n has been undercover for a long time. I'm worried that before long. She'll become Ace instead of Y/n."

[ticklishraspberries]

Ren Faire (Eddie/Steve)

Summary: Steve, Eddie, and Robin go to a Renaissance Fair and see some interesting demonstrations. (This fic is for my lovely friend @gigglyrambles!! I literally just pulled this whole plot out of my ass and wrote it in one sitting, so I really hope you like it, LOL. Also, shoutout to @wordstrings because I know she has written something similar for Our Flag Means Death, I hope you don't mind me taking inspiration!!)

Steve isn’t sure how he ended up being dragged along to a Renaissance Fair with none other than Robin and Eddie, but he found it hard to say no to either of their puppy dog eyes and incessant begging.

His outfit is simple, consisting of a white, long-sleeved shirt with laces at the neckline, tight brown pants, and brown boots. He feels only a little bit ridiculous, but after seeing what his friends are wearing, he supposes he isn’t the weirdest looking one.

Eddie is decked out in black, an intricately detailed top with ruffles and buttons. A fake sword sits in a holder on his waist. Robin has gone for a more masculine look, a cloak over her shoulders and a bow and arrow in her hand.

“Screw historical accuracy,” she’d said.

“The fact that you’re a girl isn’t the problem, it’s that you couldn’t hit a moving target with an arrow to save your life,” Eddie had teased, and Robin had elbowed him in the ribs, making Steve laugh.

Now that they’ve arrived, Steve has relaxed a bit. He used to feel out of place whenever he attended events that he wouldn’t have been caught dead at in high school. Corroded Coffin concerts, DnD campaigns, and that one time he drove Eddie and Robin to the nearest gay bar in Indiana. It had definitely been more awkward sober, and before he realized that he’s bisexual, and could have totally had more fun if he’d been aware of and okay with that information at the time.

He’s sort of glad he wasn’t, though, because kissing Eddie Munson during a childish game of truth or dare was a much funnier way to have your queer awakening, and dating Eddie Munson is way more fun than hooking up with random guys in a bar.

“They have really good beer here,” Eddie comments, to which Steve holds up his car keys and jingles them. No medieval mead is going to keep him from being the designated driver.

“I can drive us home,” Robin says, absolutely joking, but Steve still gives her a horrified look and makes a show of sliding his keys back into his pocket, patting the denim for safe keeping. She sticks her tongue out at him, and he flicks her cheek.

Eddie does end up getting some beer, and Steve allows himself a few sips. They’ll be here for at least a few hours, he’ll surely sober up by then. He also samples the gigantic turkey leg that Eddie gets, and Robin wrinkles her nose in disgust at the messy nature of the food.

As they walk around, Steve finds himself getting into the spirit more than he had expected. They eat, watch musical performances, and shop at the little stalls set up by various vendors. Eddie buys a few rings for himself, and buys a handmade mug for Uncle Wayne. Robin indulges in candles and soaps, and even dares to see a fortune teller.

“She said that I’ll meet my future husband soon,” she says, giggling. “Clearly she’s a fraud, or she’d know I’m not interested.”

When Robin runs off to find a bathroom, somehow, Eddie and Steve end up standing around a demonstration about medieval punishments and torture, which Steve expects to be gruesome, and quickly finds he would rather hear gritty, gorey details than stand her and watch this happen.

A pretty girl, probably around their age, is locked into a pair of wooden stocks, and—

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Steve mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

Eddie looks absolutely delighted as he leans in close. “What’s wrong, Stevie? The demonstration isn’t bothering you, is it?” he asks. His cheeks are flushed, too. A few months ago, Eddie would probably be the one stuttering and staring at the ground right now, but ever since he introduced this little world to Steve, he’s gained a confidence about it that only comes out when he gets to tease Steve into oblivion.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up, I’m trying to watch. Maybe I can get some pointers from these guys.”

‘These guys’ refers to the two men who have started tickling the girl’s trapped feet, and frantic giggles fill the air and make Steve’s stomach flip.

“Oh, she’s handling this better than you would,” Eddie continues to tease. “I’d already be called every insult under the sun if you couldn’t kick me instead.”

“I will kick you right now,” Steve threatens. It’s a complete lie. He’s frozen to the spot on the grass, torn between watching and focusing on the grass. Everyone else in the crowd is behaving like this is so normal, no big deal, just a silly show.

One of the men has moved behind the girl to tickle her ribs, her arms secured above her head. Steve crosses his arms over his chest, subconsciously protecting his own sensitive spots, like just watching her could tickle him, too.

“You love that spot,” Eddie coos. “You make the cutest sounds when I tickle you there.”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you,” Steve grits out.

“Sure you will, sweetheart. Can it wait ‘til after I’ve made you cry real pretty for me?”

Just then, Robin appears at his side. “This looks like my worst nightmare,” she says. “I hope this girl is getting paid well.”

Steve makes a noise of agreement, but can’t bring himself to look over. Eddie Munson is going to be the fucking death of him. Thankfully, Robin is immediately bored of the display and drags them off to explore. Eddie subtly gives Steve’s side a quick pinch as he walks past him, and Steve suddenly can’t wait to go home.

***

“You are a fucking menace,” Steve accuses the moment they’ve made it through the door.

His parents aren’t home, Robin was dropped off back at her house, and now, Steve is alone with Eddie for the first time all day, and he refuses to voice how excited he is for whatever Eddie’s got planned.

But Eddie just grins, tugging off the more elaborate pieces of his costume, leaving himself in socks, boxers, and a white t-shirt. He makes his way to the kitchen, comes back with two cans of beer, sits on the couch like he isn’t ignoring the clear tension in the room.

Steve gapes at him for a minute before joining him on the couch, kicking off his boots and taking a beer as well. Maybe Eddie’s changed his mind…Maybe he just isn’t the mood, and Steve isn’t going to pressure him into anything.

But…Well, he has a sneaking suspicion that isn’t the case at all.

“If you’re waiting for me to ask, it’s not gonna happen,” he says.

“Ask for what?” Eddie tilts his head curiously, but there’s a glint in his eye that proves Steve’s theory.

“Nothing,” Steve replies, playing along. “All that talk back there just made me think you had a plan for when we got home. But if you’re not interested, that’s fine too.”

“Did you want me to have a plan?”

Steve huffs. “Maybe. But if you don’t, then let’s forget about it.”

“Oh, c’mon baby,” Eddie says, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulders and pulling him close. “All you’ve gotta do is ask if you want it so bad.”

His cheeks burn. Stubborn as ever, he shakes his head.

Eddie sighs with exaggerated disappointment. “If you insist. I guess I’ll just keep my hands to myself tonight…”

“Good,” Steve says, and turns the television on.

It takes two beers and a stupid scene in a film to break him. It’s a quick, barely there tickle, but the character’s laugh makes Steve perk up like a dog hearing a doorbell ring.

“Fine,” he says.

“What’s fine?” Eddie asks.

“Just fucking tickle me, you dick.”

Eddie grins and wastes no time, lunging across the couch and pinning Steve to the cushions.

“I knew you’d crack eventually, sweetheart,” he teases. “Sorry we don’t have quite the same set up, but I’ll hold you down real nice, okay?”

Steve is already grinning. He can’t help it, he’s so lovestruck by his boyfriend and desperate to laugh his head off. And laugh he does when Eddie goes straight for his ribs, scratching at the dips between each little bone.

“There’s that pretty sound,” he says, pressing a kiss to Steve’s jaw that is both sweet and ticklish under the current circumstance.

The stupid shirt with the laces is pulled over his head and discarded on the floor, and Eddie pins Steve’s wrists and tells him to stay still before exploring each ticklish spot on his torso, making him shriek and cackle and snort like a fool.

He doesn’t stay still for very long, arms shooting down to his sides when Eddie attacks his belly with blunt fingernails, and Eddie scolds him but doesn’t stop.

As he squirms on the couch, giggling like mad, he wonders if they sell some of those bondage contraptions there. He thinks that they should go back to the Ren Faire sometime. 

[bensonsbobblehead]

The Village it Takes

pairings; Spencer Reid x Mom!reader (ft Daughter!oc)

Spencer fakes his death ( basically how Emily did) leaving you and your 11 year old daughter behind.

Content Warnings; angst, sadness, talks of death and grief, fluff

a/n; Hiii, so so sorry about the wait, I've decided not to make a taglist because I don't know how and I don't want to do it the wrong way. Im also back active for a while now so please send request. {first , second}

[masterlist]

You held your daughter as she was shaking in your arms watching as Spencer ran to catch the elevator before it closed. You ignored him only squeezing Ronnie tighter as she calmed down.  He hit the emergency stop causing Ronnie to cry harder burying her head into your chest. 

“What the fuck Spencer? You're scaring my daughter." You never referred to Cameron as just "yours" until now, you knew how badly it would hurt him especially after seeing the shock in his eyes.

“Just listen, I’ve spent the last three years trying to get back to both of you. I hate that I missed so much of your lives especially you, my moon.” He grabbed Ronnie’s chin and wiped her tears.

He started calling her that on the long nights when she couldn’t sleep. Spewing facts about the moon with a little Cameron on his chest. Making her completely fall in love with the nighttime. Cameron had so many questions and ideas about the night sky and it was something special the both of them shared.

He never could wrap his head around why she loved his voice so much as a baby. Probably because of the countless hours he spent talking and reading to your pregnant belly at night or even over the phone when he was on a case. 

“I begged Aaron to bring me back I’ve looked for loopholes for years so I can get back home to you both, You guys lost one person but I loss both.” He said with tears in his eyes, it was true this entire time was hard for Spencer. Not being there for his daughters birthdays and christmases. Missing your anniverises and birthday it was hard. 

“I’m so sorry my Ronnie, you didn’t deserve this. I know I missed your ceremonies and games and I wish I could go back in time to change it all. I’m so sorry, Please accept my apology whenever your ready.” Looking at his daughter and taking in her beauty, he never wanted to hurt her. 

She looked liked the both of you and was an even better person than you both. She looked up at her father with tears still falling taking a breath before speaking, “I just missed you so much daddy.” She buried herself into his chest and they both sobbed together. 

“My life sucks without you in it, please don’t leave again. I wouldn't know what to do” the teenager begged,

“I won’t baby, I won’t” Spencer said rubbing the top of her head. 

“Let’s go home” you said turning the elevator back on. You all headed to the car Spencer getting in the back with Cameron, holding her tightly, you watched them in the rear view mirror. 

You had no idea how to feel. You had him back, your husband, your first real love was alive after three years of thinking he was dead. Yet you were still so angry at him and everyone involved for faking his death, especially Hotchner and JJ.

They watched you breakdown at family dinners that they were so kind to invite you to. Barley holding it together until Cameron was in the back chasing the other kids. 

Aaron was there a lot, with Jack and Cameron going to the same school, he would take her on the days he knew you couldn’t handle it. You hated them, this all could have been avoided. Why not make us all disappear? Why just Spencer? 

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you arrived at the house. All of you hopping out and heading in. 

“Go shower and get ready for bed Ron” you said as you took of your shoes and sat your bag down. 

“Can I sleep with you guys tonight?” She asked softly looking at you for approval, Spencer allowing you to answer. 

“Of course sweetie.” You said as she smiled and headed to the bathroom, you waiting until she closed the door and started the shower before turning around.

“Y/N.. I have no idea about how you feel—“ 

Before he could finish your anger took over, you had never been this upset, especially with him. You smacked him again before you could stop yourself, and continued to hit him in the chest repeatedly. 

His chest was bigger and stronger which made you even more upset, he was here, and you thought he was gone.

“Y/N, Stop!” He yelled grabbing your arms and pulling you into his chest. You fought back but he pulled you into his chest.

“No idea how I feel? It was so hard to breathe without you Spence. Raising a teenage girl who was grieving while grieving myself it was impossible. And you were still here? Jeez Spencer maybe a sign you were still out there?” You cried harder as he wiped your tears falling into his touch. It was like home no matter how upset you were, Spencer could and would always make you feel better.

“I’m so sorry, I hate that it happened this way. I fought y/n, every chance to get back to you and Cameron.” He broke down as you watched silently before you burst pushing him away.

“Not hard enough! Look, I understand it was to keep you safe and it worked and I’m so thankful for that but you weren’t here. 

On top of the way Cameron was grieving, I almost didn’t make it without you.” Thinking of her first panic attack since his death and the long hospital visit that followed after. It was when you really saw the effects of grief. Helping her heal was your only priority but it took a toll on you. 

Now wasn’t the time for that cause you finally let yourself go and buried yourself into his chest.  You were one of the very few people to be this lucky. Your husband was dead but now he’s back and holding you tighter than ever. 

“I know that was unbearable and I know I can only apologize. Y/n I promise I will never leave you or our daughter again. 

I spent three hundred and seventy eight days away from you and I never want to again. You both are life and I was nothing without either of you. 

I even sometimes wish I was really gone. The thought of never getting back to you guy’s consumed me. I’m just glad to be back”

 He cried harder causing you to whisper sweet nothings into his ear. Your heart broke more for him knowing how much he struggled, he lost you both too.

“Don't say that Spencer, you knew you were coming back to us. I’m just so glad you’re home and safe.” you said pulling away to look him in his eyes. Moving to connect your lips, kissing him was always perfect. You fit into each other perfectly. You both pulled away as you heard the shower turn off. 

“I love you Mrs.Reid.” He said kissing you on the forehead causing you to smile. You all continued to get ready for bed until you all were finally laying down, with Cameron in between you and Spencer. 

This was the first time you genuinely seen a smile on your daughters face. You’re so grateful she has him back that you both have him back. 

"Are you going to leave us again?' Cameron spoke up as you all watched the movie together.

"Because I don't think I would be able to handle it dad" her voice broke with a tear falling from her eye as she looked up at her. It was a good question, would he leave again?

"Oh honey, I promise I will never leave you again, it was a mistake to go without you both ill never do it again" he told her looking at you both so you knew too. You smiled at your wonderful husband still in awe at the fact he's home.

Cameron snuggled into her dad laying her head on his chest with you snuggling into her back. You all sat and watched your favorite movie Ron was fast asleep with you following behind. Before you fell asleep you heard Spencer. 

“I’m so sorry I left. I love you both so much” as he leaned in to give Ronnie and kiss and then you. 

“We love you too” you muttered as your eyes shut with a smile on your face. Having Spencer back was everything you needed. 

[iamjucie]

Astarion the Musical

Today, I spent several hours creating a playlist that tells Astarion's story (a version of it) through songs. I want to share the playlist with you, along with this post as a companion to describe the context.

In my mind it plays out like a musical would- context and dialogue happening between musical numbers. I hope you enjoy.

Song explanations:

The Code: Post game Astarion introducing his story to the audience. A synopsis of his story from the POV of the person who lived through it. 

"I, I went to Hell and back To find myself on track I broke the code, whoa-oh-oh Like ammonites I just gave it some time Now I found paradise I broke the code, whoa-oh-oh"

The story starts when he is attacked by the Gur and is approached by Cazador.

The Killing Moon: Cazador turns him into his spawn.

"Under blue moon I saw you So soon you'll take me Up in your arms, too late to beg you Or cancel it, though I know it must be The killing time Unwillingly mine Fate Up against your will Through the thick and thin He will wait until You give yourself to him"

Dead Arms & Dead Legs: After he has turned, coming to terms with his new undead self. 

"I have been out walking with these Dead Arms & Dead Legs And the mysteries of the universe are patterned in my head The terrain becomes unbearable - too steep to stick your heel I imagine myself here again in 50 million years I run to the left... I run to the right And all my fears become a life And what is left... and who are you in the end?"

Queer: He is seducing victims and luring them to Cazador using his body and charm.

"Hey boy, take a look at me Let me dirty up your mind I'll strip away your hard veneer And see what I can find The queerest of the queer The strangest of the strange The coldest of the cool The lamest of the lame The numbest of the dumb I hate to see you here You choke behind a smile A fake behind the fear The queerest of the queer"

The Dead Come Talking: Feeling guilt about the victims he led to death. He can't seem to forget them.

"Feel the worms eating holes through my mind Like regrets that'll kill me in time Walking backwards is always a guess Distant faces burn holes in my chest, mm-mm, mm-mm Shadows floating, they're out in the hall They still haunt you long after they're gone Buried in the basement, cold cement Dead come talking, can't put them to rest"

rises the moon: Montage of his life as a slave under Cazador, time passes and his hope for an escape becomes less and less. 

"Days seem sometimes as if they'll never end Sun digs its heels to taunt you But after sunlit days, one thing stays the same Rises the moon Days fade into a watercolour blur Memories swim and haunt you But look into the lake, shimmering like smoke Rises the moon"

Abbey: He is out in the city hunting, daydreaming of freedom. 

"There is a light, I feel it in me But only, it seems, when the dark surrounds me There is a dream and it sleeps in me Keeps me awake in the night Crying, "Set me free" And I wake every night Crying, "Set me free" "

Kidnapped by the Nautiloid.  Nautiloid crashes. 

Hand Me My Shovel, I’m Going In!: He wakes up at the crash site and is freaking out. He is in the sun, and not burnt to ash.

"This is not enough, this is not enough to prove it yet No, I need to hit the bottom This is not enough, this is not enough to prove it yet No, I need to hit the bottom Gotta get to the bottom of this Gotta get to the bottom of this Gotta get to the bottom of this"

Meet Tav.

Survival: He realizes he has an actual chance at freedom now that he met Tav.

"You won't pull ahead I'll keep up the pace And I'll reveal my strength To the whole human race Yes, I am prepared To stay alive I won't forgive, the vengeance is mine And I won't give in Because I choose to thrive Yeah, I'm gonna win!"

Biting Down: Drinks Tav’s blood for the first time. His first time drinking blood from a thinking creature and he realizes why it was kept from him. He feels alive. He feels powerful.

"Skip a hit, don't make a sound (It feels better biting down) Breathed so deep I thought I'd drown (It feels better biting down) Listen to the beats resound (It feels better biting down) It feels better biting down (It feels better biting down)"

Little White Lies: Gaining Tav’s trust, making her fall in love with him for protection.

"Would you leave me for dead, or would you come to my aid? If I don't tell you some pretty words Should it keep you coming my way I never meant to lie, but there are things we do and say to get by Little white lies, a small surprise, how big they grow in size It all starts simple enough Your present is dark because your childhood was rough So you shed your skin and you change your name in the hopes of Putting air in between you and the pain, so grab a mask Fill up a flask, slither like a snake into the mascaraed"

Terrible Thing: Seduces Tav enough for her to sleep with him.

"I know what you're doin' here Made your intentions clear Oh you, you terrible thing, you Terrible thing, you Terrible thing, you Beautiful thing Honey, you're so cold You left me on patrol Lose my self-control with you (when I'm with you) Do things I don't want to do, ooh"

Laplace’s Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!): Feelings for Tav are growing, and the guilt of manipulating her is starting to get to him so he tries to justify his actions.

"It doesn't take a killer to murder It only takes a reason to kill We've all got evidence of innocence, it's "everything's coincidence" The difference twixt fate and free will is whether you're singing Ooh, could you take a look at me? Am I bad, am I bad, am I bad, am I really that bad? And now we're singing, ooh Whatever you think of me If you were in my shoes (yes, it's only natural!) You'd walk the same damn miles I do Oh, oh, right!"

Gilded Lily: After Tav does not force him to drink Araj’s blood. He is processing his trauma. He realizes that Tav cares for him more than anyone ever has.

"Haven't I given enough, given enough? Always the fool with the slowest heart But I know you'll take me with you We'll live in spaces between walls Every city's got a graveyard The service bought and paid for Now I'm sleeping in the backyard Passing out as night turns into day"

Against the Kitchen Floor: He confesses to Tav that he was originally manipulating her but now has genuine feelings for her. He has never known the feeling of somebody wanting him for more than his body and he doesn't know how to handle it well.

"I don't owe you my heart And I don't owe you my body But you should know that I'm sorry For being careless with you Lord knows I owe you more Than I'm pretty sure I ever could give anybody But I can't pin down what normal people want from foreign objects Bottom shelf erotic products like me So, I could hold your hand but keep you at arm's length Or hang me from a branch too high to climb and shake Less rare than scarce, less diamond than rough Unlikely to be more than just the coal you fail to crush, and I swear, I'm really trying It just don't come natural to me to think that you'd want me for me I swear, I'm really trying Oh, I'm sorry, I promise, I'm doing my best I just haven't learned how to be human as you are yet"

you should see me in a crown: They find out from Raphael what his scars on his back mean, and about the Ritual of Profane Ascension. He is fantasizing about what he would do if he managed to overtake it in private. He wants the power it would grant him.

"You should see me in a crown I'm gonna run this nothing town Watch me make 'em bow One by, one by one, one by, one by You should see me in a crown Your silence is my favorite sound Watch me make 'em bow One by, one by one, one by, one by one"

Perhaps Vampire is a Bit Strong But... : Astarion fights and confronts Cazador for the centuries of abuse he put him through. 

"'Cause all you people are vampires And all your stories are stale And though you pretend to stand by us I know you're certain we'll fail I've seen your eyes as they fix on me, full of confusion Your snarl is just so condescending Try to explain that we're onto a win If the fee we are in near recoups what we're spending"

He can choose to complete the ritual in Cazador’s place, or kill him. Tav convinces him to not go through with the ritual, he kills Cazador:

What Was I Made For?: He kills Cazador and doesn’t complete the ritual expecting a sense of relief and gratification but feels nothing. He thought he would feel free without a master to rule over him, but he feels lost.

"What was I made for? Hm 'Cause I, I I don't know how to feel But I wanna try I don't know how to feel But someday I might Someday I might"

Two Coffins: He is coming to terms with Tav’s mortality. He is mourning the loss of the opportunity to have her forever by not going through with the ritual.

"Two coffins for sleep One for you one for me We'll get there eventually In the dark of our graves our bodies will decay I wish you'd never change How lucky I ever was to see The way that you smile at me Your little moon face shining bright at me One day soon there'll be nothing left of you and me Two coffins for sleep Two coffins for sleep All the things that I have yet to lose Will someday be gone soon Back into annihilation All things will fade Maybe it's better off that way I wish you'd stay with me"

Rain: For a moment, he regrets not going through with the ritual and feels a slight disdain for Tav for stopping him. This song is when he comes to realize it was the correct choice and is thanking her. He knows that he would have just become just like Cazador, and thanks to her he is breaking the cycle of abuse.

"For so long, I have waited So long that I almost became Just a stoic statue, fit for nobody And I don't wanna get in your way But I finally think I can say That the vicious cycle was over The moment you smiled at me"

My Instincts Are The Enemy: He is confiding in Tav that he wants to be with her forever, but explaining what that means for her. He is tied to the night, and she is tied to him. Is she ok with that?

"I'm paralyzed, engaged in civil war What can I do? Either way, I lose You lose, too Days are nights, and nights are unbearable What can I do? Chained to this mood You're chained to me Keep asking different questions The same answer I receive I need you more than ever To tell me what you've seen"

Sunlight: The Netherbrain is defeated and the tadpoles are gone from their minds. Without the tadpole he is now unable to withstand the sun. He is coping with the lack of sun by replacing it with Tav. From now on she is his sunlight.

"I had been lost to you, sunlight And flew like a moth to you, sunlight, oh, sunlight Oh, your love is sunlight Oh, your love is sunlight But it is sunlight All the tales the same Told before and told again A soul that's born in cold and rain Knows sunlight, sunlight, sunlight And at last can grant a name To a buried and a burning flame As love and its decisive pain Oh, my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight"

Fin.