#Most Common Front-end Languages

[written-in-knife]

Love love love you Floyd jump ring fic- the leech boys deserve more love 🧜‍♂️

Would you be able to do a pre relationship of similar epic misunderstandings with Jade, maybe with Yuu not understanding merculture and/or Jade GREATLY misunderstanding human courting culture in his attempts to learn about land culture, I die thinking about how merpeople might misinterpret sayings like “the way to the heart is through the stomach” or “gotta get that ring” when enthusiastically trying to court

Rocks and Flowers

Jade Leech x gn!reader, pre-relationship

they/them pronouns, fluff, miscommunications/misunderstandings, a single use of my dear, poorly translated french damn you Rook

Word Count: 3616

I'M HERE I'M ALIVE. I'm getting ~*Diagnosed*~ finally. Lots of appointments this past week im so tired lmaoo Also I'm changing out all the character banners, so lemme know what yall think as stuff comes out

Jade had a baseline knowledge of land culture, of course. Before they came to land to go to Night Raven, he, Floyd, and Azul had all gone to land camp. It taught them how to avoid social faux pas with the people they'd meet on land, various human traditions, even how to walk. What it did not teach them was just how many turns of phrases the common language had. Some made sense, some even overlapped, but some were... notably harder to understand. And why were so many of them about ways to kill animals? He never bothered to ask questions, he knew they were just phrases that land dwellers often used to get their point across, and most of the time the meaning could be derived through context clues. Most of the time.

When Jade realized his own attraction towards you, he was hesitant to act on it. Land camp had explained a few things about human courting, but mostly in the context of how to avoid making acquaintances feel uncomfortable. He wasn't sure how exactly to go about it. He spent a lot of time trying to look things up online-- a mistake-- and in books, trying to figure out how humans even started their courting rituals let alone what the entire process entailed. He wasn't about to go around asking, knowing anyone who would be willing to give him an answer in the first place would also be the most likely to give him false information. So he was stuck looking through various books trying to find answers for you.

And he had no idea you were doing the same for him.

It was easy to fall for Jade once you got past the subtle menacing aura that was always surrounding him, and you fell hard. You didn't fully realize it yourself until you found that you'd listened to him talk about the mushrooms he'd found on his hike to fill out his most recent terrarium for two hours. You learned more about mushrooms in those two hours than most people would want to know in their entire lives, and you were excited to hear more. When you got back to your room that night, you started researching merfolk romance online-- A MISTAKE-- trying to make sure you wouldn't do anything to insult him. The only people you could ask about the topic were Azul and Floyd. Azul would almost certainly make you sign away something in return for the information, and Floyd... yeah, no. That's a nonstarter. So you ended up in the library, sneaking back to your dorm with books about merfolk courting rituals, both ancient and modern, praying no one would catch you on the way back.

Jade had read through the few informational manuals he could find on human courting-- one written by a merperson decades ago, and another that seemed to be angled towards preteen girls and had some truly terrible advice-- and had to move on to... more unconventional methods. Which lead to him reading romance novels in a far corner of the library. There were a surprising amount of them, many with musclebound men with long hair and a petite woman in his arms on the front. Jade opted for the other plentiful options that wouldn't blow his cover immediately. He was engrossed in his book, one hand propping his head up on the table and the other flipping pages, fingers lightly drumming on the cover as he read. It wasn't a terrible read, but it seemed wholly unrealistic. How would owning a dog get you a romantic partner? He was too deep into the book to notice someone lurking, barely keeping his composure as someone gasped loudly beside him.

"Monsieur Prémédité!" Not many people could sneak up on Jade, but Rook was definitely one of them. "I was not aware of your exquisite taste in literature! Comme c'est merveilleux!"

"This is actually quite far from my usual choice, I'm afraid." Jade corrected as Rook beamed down at him. He carefully flipped the book closed, back cover up, as two others approached from behind him. "Are you familiar with this one?"

"Oui! I find it most interesting how the dog is a pivotal part in the budding romance!"

Of course he does.

Vil leaned forward to skim through the description on the back, confusion growing on his expression at each word. "If this is so out of the norm for you, why are you reading it?" He asked.

"For research purposes." He admits, flashing the Pomefiore students a sharp smile.

"Un étudiant en l'amour?" Rook gasped excitedly as he quickly sat down across the table, lacing his fingers under his chin in intense interest as Vil rolled his eyes and straightened back up. "Monsieur Prémédité, je n'aurais jamais deviné! For what are you researching? Please, tell me everything!"

"Now you've done it..." Epel muttered from behind Vil, sounding exhausted.

Jade hesitated for a moment. The Pomefiore students would certainly be the ones to ask when it came to these sorts of things. They at least would be the least likely to lie to him about the particular subject. "I'm researching human courting rituals. There is little in the way of instructional manuals in our library, so I have turned to these." He gestured to the book in front of him before turning back to Rook, who practically had stars in his eyes. "Unfortunately, there isn't much to be gained from these, as it turns out."

"Are you trying to find information so you can court someone?" Epel asked, looking mildly concerned before Vil swatted him lightly upside the head with a mutter of "too blunt."

"Land boot camp never covered the topic, and I must admit, I've been dreadfully curious ever since I first heard the story of the mermaid princess." It was as easy for Jade to lie through his teeth as it was to breathe, piling on the pitiful tone and expression to try to play at least one of them for a sucker. "The stories never went into detail on how the land prince courted her, I thought I would find more information here, but alas..."

It was unsurprising that Rook took the bait, hand resting on his chest as he nodded along sympathetically. Vil rolled his eyes again and Epel muttered something about courting rituals to himself, neither nearly as invested in the lie.

"On land, courting must be bold!" Rook began without prompting as he stood from his chair, Vil only just keeping him from propping a foot dramatically on the table by grabbing his arm and pulling him back. "Loud proclamations of love! Flowers! Doves! Music!"

"And some people don't enjoy that at all." Vil sighed, shooing Rook down from his soapbox. "You just have to play to your audience. But it does often involve flowers."

"My Meemaw says the quickest way to anybody's heart is through their stomach." Epel chimed in, getting a quick glare from Vil at the accent slip.

"Your grandmother is correct on that front."

Jade stared for a moment at the phrase. Another he didn't recognize and wasn't exactly provided context clues for. The way to win your affections lies... in your stomach?

"The most common way to begin a human courtship is by bringing flowers, admitting your intentions, and inviting them out with you on a date." Vil explained further, Rook quietly waxing poetic about each point next to him. "Which is why it's more commonly referred to as dating, rather than courting."

"I see... This has been enlightening, I thank you all for your input." Jade nodded to them.

"Do let us know how it goes, Jade." Vil gave him a knowing smirk as he spoke.

Jade flashed back his own sharp smile, narrowing his eyes just slightly at the housewarden. "I've no idea what you mean, Vil."

Meanwhile, you'd found some fairly decent information on merfolk courting rituals, turns out their methods were significantly better documented than humans' were. Unfortunately for you, however, a lot of the courting rituals varied between the different species of merfolk and there wasn't a lot of overlap as far as you could tell. The biggest overlap you could find had to do with small gifts; pebbling, as some species of merfolk called it. It seemed to be finding something cool or pretty on the ocean floor and bringing it to the person you were courting, which sounded easy enough. You were already a fan of picking up cool rocks, it wouldn't be any trouble to just bring them to Jade instead of putting them on your windowsill.

Another common overlap you found was the importance of jewelry across all species of merfolk, but it seemed to be... maybe a little too important for just trying to date him. From what you could tell, giving a merperson jewelry was their closest equivalent to proposing, or maybe a promise ring? You weren't entirely sure, but it seemed like too much. Specifically to eel merfolk, the book you found talked a significant amount about a dance that you couldn't quite understand. It was definitely an underwater activity, as far as you could tell, but maybe dancing in general would be good enough on land? The way the book talked about it made it seem like it was common enough knowledge that no one would even bother writing down the details. You were too engrossed in the notes you were taking-- yes, you were taking notes on this-- to notice the floorboards on the other side of your door creaking.

"Hey Yuu, I got yer--" You scrambled to cover up your notes, the book, to be nonchalant about it as Epel walked into your room, holding your potionology notebook in his hands. He looked surprised at your panic as you blocked your desk with your body, definitely not looking completely suspicious. "--notes. What, uh... Whatcha doin'?"

"Nothing. Studying." You spat out, not moving from the uncomfortable position you found yourself in. "Thank you for bringing those back, you can leave them on the armchair."

"Or... I could just hand 'em to ya." He smirked, inching towards you and watching as you leaned backwards over your desk to keep hiding the evidence.

"Or you could just hand them to me!" You agreed in a tone too upbeat to be believable, snatching the notebook out of his hand as soon as he was close enough. "Thank you, Epel, but I really have to study so I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure, sure..." He nodded slowly, just managing to peek past one of your arms, smirk growing devious. "Ya writin' an essay 'bout merfolk courtin' rituals?"

"OUT. GET OUT." You shouted as your face began to burn, leaping up from your awkward position to shove him out the door while he cackled.

"Aw, c'mon, I ain't gonna tell nobody!" He protested. "In fact, I got some interesting information myself in the library today--!"

"DON'T CARE, GET OUT. TELL NO ONE." You shoved him out into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind him.

Out in the hall, Epel simply shrugged, smirking to himself as he walked away. "They'll figure it out eventually." It was nice to be the one in the know.

You were mortified but at least you were fairly sure he wouldn't run to tell anyone about it, you don't think you'd ever be able to live it down if Ace caught wind of this. You twisted the lock on the door into place before going back to your desk to continue your research, face still burning red as you flipped everything back to where it had been.

Vil had given Jade a decent jumping off point, but he found himself going back to the phrase Epel had used. The way to the heart is through the stomach. Of course that had to be a way to win your affection, but through your stomach? He hadn't read anything about the abdomen being involved in any courtship rituals, at least not the initial stages. Perhaps he had missed something? Maybe it was something lesser known that older generations did? It couldn't possibly be as simple as food, could it? The common language turns of phrases were never so simple, even the ones he understood. He turned the phrase over in his head for a few days, too busy analyzing it as he walked into his Ancient Magic class to catch who had put a rock on his desk. Why was there a rock on his desk? He stopped to stare at it for a second before glancing around at his fellow sophomores, none of whom seemed to be taking even a passing interest in his confusion. It had definitely been placed with purpose, squarely in front of his chair so there was no way of him missing it or mistaking it as being for someone else. He picked it up as he sat down, turning it over to examine in his hand as Floyd flopped down in the seat next to him.

"I don't suppose you saw who left this, did you?" Jade asked, presenting the rock for Floyd to see.

"Nah, couldn't give a shit less." Floyd grumbled, barely glancing at the rock before draping himself forward over the desk.

Jade hummed lightly, glancing around one more time before depositing the rock in his bag. He could maybe make use of it for a terrarium, if nothing else. He didn't think much of it the first time, but as the week went on, there continued to be rocks on his desks. Not ever in the same class either, so he could confirm that it was not an accident the first time. They were just small rocks that could fit in the palm of his hand, some of them having interesting patterns or colorations, some having interesting shapes, but they were still rocks. He kept the nicest few to put in his terrariums, the rest were left in his bag to bring with him on his next trip to the mountain.

By the end of the week, you were out of your coolest rocks that you were willing to give away. You were almost certain you were doing this wrong, leaving them for him to find instead of just handing them to him, but you were so afraid that maybe pebbling didn't apply to eel merfolk, or that the rocks weren't good enough. You didn't find them outside in the grass or still in the classrooms, so you considered that a win at least. And Epel was the only one smirking at you whenever Jade walked into the cafeteria or down the hall, so he hadn't told anyone what he'd seen. Another win!

You planned to spend your weekend figuring out how to go about dancing with Jade. The books weren't clear enough on what the dance entailed besides that it was done with tail fins while underwater, but it was very clear that it was done while courting. You were on the couch in the Ramshackle lounge on Saturday evening, rereading the courting book for any sort of clues you'd missed when there was a knock on the door. You quickly shoved the book between the couch cushions, making sure it was completely hidden as you got up and headed for the door, immediately glad you'd hidden the book as you opened the door to Jade standing on the front porch. He was dressed in the outfit he usually wore to go up the mountain, mud still on his boots from his hike and gloves dangling out of his pockets.

"Hello, Yuu." He said pleasantly, looking over your obviously startled demeanor. "I do hope I'm not interrupting."

"No, not at all." You waved him off quickly, trying desperately not to somehow give yourself away. "Just, uh... reading. What's up?"

You froze as he stepped forward, into your personal space, and placed a hand on your stomach, just above your navel. Even through your shirt, his hand was cool, sending a shiver up your spine. You stared wide eyed as he smiled down at you before reaching into his bag and pulling out a bundle of small flowers, presenting them to you. They were a little squashed from being in his bag, and it looked like he had picked them off the mountain himself. You felt the heat rising on your cheeks as you took them from him, the fact he’d taken the time to gather them himself was flattering by itself.

“I was given advice on how to go about this, and was told to just be straightforward with my intentions.” He began plainly. “I’ve found myself drawn to you recently, and would like to begin courting you. I was told it was called “dating” and that I should invite you out with me, if you’re interested?”

You could feel how hot your face was getting as he spoke, not believing your luck. Maybe you wouldn’t have to figure out that dance? Maybe you still should? Would it be rude not to? He, on the other hand, was getting nervous in the drawn out silence that your internal reeling was creating, worried he’d done something wrong. He wouldn’t show it on his face, of course, but he was getting uncomfortable.

“Oh, uh, yeah!” You spat out quickly, chuckling nervously as you realized just how long you’d let that moment drag out. “Definitely. When? And where?”

He paused for a few confused blinks, smile slipping as you watched a light dusting of pink grow on his cheeks. If he weren’t so close, you might’ve not even noticed. “I was... unaware that was something I had to plan ahead of time.” He admitted slowly, internally cursing himself for not asking more details when he had the chance.

“That’s alright!” You were quick to assure him, fiddling with the little bouquet he’d given you. “We can figure that out together, if you want?”

His smile returned at the offer, warmer this time, fonder. “I’d enjoy that.”

“Great!”

There was another pause as you looked down at the small blooms in your hands, then at his hand, which was still rested on your belly. You glanced up at his face, then his hand, then his face again.

“Hey Jade?”

“Hm?”

“What... What is this?” You tried your best not to sound like you disapproved as you glanced down at his hand again. What if it was something the books didn’t cover? Other than the dance-- and the inadvisable internet searches-- there was no mention of physical contact. There was dancing, there was biting which was less for courting and more for established couples, but not... this.

He pulled his hand away as if he’d been burned, the blush on his cheeks growing slightly. “Ah. That wasn’t correct then?”

“I don’t know? What was it?”

He groaned slightly, pinching at the bridge of his nose as he spoke. “Epel had said a phrase that I didn’t quite understand, about the stomach being the key to affections. Even Vil agreed that it was correct, I thought it must be a common courting method.”

You muttered the words to yourself, trying to piece the phrase together, biting your lip hard to keep from laughing when you realized what he was talking about. “The way to someone’s heart is through their stomach?”

“Yes, that’s the one. I’m not familiar with many common language phrases.”

“Food. The way to someone’s heart is good food.”

It really was that simple. Damn it. He let out an awkward chuckle, trying to hide his embarrassed expression from you by rubbing at his eyes. “I suppose I should’ve just looked it up, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay!” You laughed, wanting to reassure him. This was going way too well for him to back out due to embarrassment now! “It’s hard to find information on what’s allegedly common knowledge! I mean, I can’t figure out that courting dance for the life of me--!”

You slapped your hand over your mouth as you realized what you were saying, watching as Jade slowly looked up at you in confusion. You wanted to cringe all the way back up to your room as you watched him mouth the word “dance,” gears turning in his head as he looked you over, before a smile grew on his face. You broke eye contact as you realized he’d clicked everything into place.

“Yuu, have you been pebbling me?” He asked, tone equal parts teasing and astonished.

Well, this was going too well for either of you to back out due to embarrassment now, you supposed. You lowered your hand, narrowing your eyes at him with a smirk. “That depends, has it been working?”

He laughed, hiding it behind his fist as his eyes scrunched closed, and your heart absolutely fluttered. You really did fall hard. And so did he. He was flattered that you’d also done research on courting, relieved that you hadn’t gotten it quite right either, glad it hadn’t deterred either of you.

“It would’ve worked better if I’d know it was you, my dear.” He responded through his laughter, giving you a look of pure adoration. “Typically, you hand the items to people, not leave things for them to find themselves.”

“I wasn’t sure I was doing it right!” You defended lightheartedly.

“Well then,” he started as he held a hand out for you to take, which you did, of course, “how does dinner sound? Since food is the way to the heart.” He pulled you a little closer, tone dropping a bit as his smile grew. “Then, perhaps, I can teach you that dance.”

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO USE MY WORK TO TRAIN AI

MASTERLIST

[lilybecca1]

Wait, Bakudeku is literally considered canon in the Japanese fandom???!!! Like no joke, in Japan Bkdk being canon is actually a widely accepted thing?? Like, let me get this straight.

The manga was meant for Japanese audience mainly, so the romance would also be something that is suited for Japanese audience, not the direct and straight forward approach that non-japanese shows have when it comes to romance. And you guys remember the "Rest of our lives" scene? Well yeah, that's actually a marriage proposal in Japan. In Japan they don't say Will you marry me? Some of the most common proposal lines are literally:

“Let’s spend the rest of our lives together.”

“Having you by my side is what completes me.”

“I can't imagine my life without you in it.”

“I wish I could give you everything, but I hope that this ring is enough.”

"I will protect you forever."

Like bro what?? These are literally Bkdk coded. Like Izuku fr thought once that he can't imagine his world without Kacchan in it. And the “I wish I could give you everything, but I hope that this ring is enough.”?? Replace ring with hero suit and you get the freaking ending of the manga. And I will protect you forever is also so them like I just can't yjxnsjxjnxjdkkxkxkxkxkkdk

I know we were all waiting for Horikoshi to make Bkdk canon in some big way like at the end they're revealed to be together or some confession or some shit but we do forget sometimes that this is set in Japanese culture and in Japan things are very different. Much more subtle and way less straight forward and obvious. Most japanese husbands and wives don't even normally say I love you to each other, because they express love through different ways, like action. And that is very hard for our non-japanese brains to understand cause it's just so different over there and instead of being expressive, love in Japanese culture is more about gratitude expressed through actions and devotion. It's much more symbolic.

So then when we think back on all those Cherry Blossom official arts, well NOW it doesn't seem too far fetched to think it might mean something, does it? For us, all these little hints and symbolism are just that. Hints and symbolism. But for Japanese people? They know how to read it very well and it's common in Japan to express certain things through symbolism. Like "The moon is beautiful, isn't it?" Is a full on marriage proposal line. It doesn't seem like it to us, but to them yes. Also let's not forget we literally have a scene with Deku looking out at the moon and Bakugo too 😭

So, if we look at it in a Japanese sense, and that in japaese culture, love is expressed in a more symbolic way, and through actions and devotion, then it isn't so hard to believe anymore that Bakugo and Deku are actually fully implied canon in the manga. I mean talk about devotion..Bakugo literally spent 8 YEARS to help fund that suit for Izuku. He took "actions speak louder than words" fcking seriously.

Like would it be better if Horikoshi actually made them say they were in love or made then kiss or something? Yeah, but realistically speaking that probably wasn't gonna happen either way. And the fact that the Japanese fandom, who the manga is literally meant for, is fr congratulating Bakudeku for being canon!!!! Like y'all if the japanese fandom thinks that they're canon then it's safe to say that they are. Because in a sense, Japanese people can read and understand that "language" behind those hints better than us. And if they say it's canon, then I bet my ass it is.

TOO BAD I AIN'T FCKING JAPANESE

Like seriously why is it so hard being European. We wouldn't believe something was true until the cold hard evidence was literally laid right in front of our freaking eyes.

[himasgod]

How would Sebek react if his S/O and Malleus got in a fight and weren't speaking to each other anymore? (The fight is absolutely over something dumb and petty)

Sebek x Reader

Where you have argued with Malleus, and you do not speak to each other.

How would Sebek act if he were to mediate the dispute between Malleus and you? <3

Sebek Zigvolt was experiencing something he'd never imagined: his beloved Lord Malleus Draconia and his partner were in the middle of a silent war. And all for a reason that, no matter how hard he tried to understand, he couldn't consider worthy of such a tragedy.

The problem had started in the most absurd way.

From what he'd heard (because, of course, Sebek would never admit that he'd started eavesdropping on other people's conversations out of sheer desperation), the argument revolved around something as trivial as the way a word is pronounced in the ancient Briar Valley language.

You said it one way, Malleus said it another, and instead of letting it go, the two of you had gotten into an argument in which neither was willing to give in.

At first, Sebek thought the fight would only last a few hours. But it had been three days since his Lord and his mate had spoken to each other, and anguish was consuming him from within. It was unbearable! An unthinkable situation! An absolute disaster!

And the worst part was that he was caught in the middle!

From day one, Sebek tried to act decisively.

"This is unacceptable!" he exclaimed, standing with his arms crossed in front of you. "My Lord Malleus and you shouldn't be feuding. Apologize immediately!"

You looked at him in disbelief.

"Why do I have to apologize if he was the stubborn one?"

Sebek felt a cold sweat running down his back.

"Lord Malleus isn't stubborn! He's just… standing his ground with honor and dignity."

"Oh, right. And what about me? An ignorant commoner?"

"I-I didn't say that!"

The conversation ended with you turning your back and leaving, leaving Sebek feeling like he had failed in his mission as a mediator.

But he wouldn't give up so easily.

On the second day, he decided to approach Malleus.

"My Lord… don't you think this conflict with my partner has gone on too long?"

Malleus looked at him with his serene, slightly melancholy expression.

"I'm not upset, Sebek. But if she doesn't wish to speak with me, I won't insist."

"But, My Lord!" Sebek clenched his fists. "This can't go on. I can't allow this gap between you two to widen any further!"

Malleus regarded him calmly.

"Sebek, if you're so worried, why don't you resolve this on your own?"

And so, the challenge was accepted.

By the third day, Sebek had a master plan. And, as expected, his reconciliation strategy couldn't have been more obvious.

"Oh, what a coincidence that I summoned you both here at exactly the same time and place," he said in a voice that tried to sound natural as he led you and Malleus to the same corner of the garden.

"I had no idea you were both coming."

You gave him a suspicious look.

"Sebek…"

"The weather's nice today, isn't it?! Perfect for forgetting trivial differences and getting back to normal, hehehe!"

Absolute silence.

You looked away.

Malleus crossed his arms thoughtfully.

Sebek felt his patience crack.

"Enough!" he exclaimed, his voice thick with frustration.

"This makes no sense! You're both extraordinary, powerful, peerless beings! Why would you allow a trifle to separate you like this? It's an affront to the respect and admiration I feel for you!"

His words echoed in the air. His chest rose and fell with the effort of his impassioned speech.

He had given his all… and now he awaited the outcome.

Malleus and you looked at each other.

And then, you both burst into laughter.

Sebek blinked, stunned. What were you laughing at?

"Sorry," you laughed. "It's just that seeing you so desperate about this makes the fight seem ridiculous."

"Indeed," Malleus smiled "There's no reason to prolong a petty dispute."

Sebek looked at you, first with confusion, then with relief. And finally, with overwhelming pride.

"Ha! I knew my words would bring you to your senses. How fortunate I was here!"

You kissed him on the cheek.

“Sebek... you’re a terrible mediator… but also the best.”

And though his pride wouldn’t admit it, his heart beat faster at those words.

Finally, peace had been restored.

Later, as he walked back to his usual routine, Sebek couldn’t help but think about how exhausting it had been to deal with the situation. Though, deep down, there was also something rewarding about it.

Being able to see his Lord and his beloved sharing a lively conversation again gave him a sense of accomplishment that few things could match.

However, just when he thought everything was settled, he heard your voice in the distance:

“By the way, Malleus, the word is pronounced just like I said!”

Sebek stopped dead in his tracks.

The air around you thickened with tension.

Malleus looked at you with one eyebrow raised, a smile playing on his lips.

“Oh, you really think so?”

Sebek felt despair rise in his throat again.

"NOT AGAIN!"

And so, the peace lasted less than he had hoped.

But at least, he tried <3

[eunoiaflow3r]

better than the books - ron weasley

requests open! please send some!

warning(s): language(?), smut, unedited, rushed ending

word count: 1.8k

request(ed): yes. “one day ron & harry are visiting hermione & reader in their dorm, where the girls are on hermione‘s bed, reading. reader‘s wearing the school uniform with a short skirt and when ron & harry come into the room they have a direct view of readers clothed pussy, because the skirt is so short. harry & ron are very flustered & ron can already feel the boner coming. harry takes this chance & says that him & hermione have to go get something & that ron & reader just stay here until they come back. idk how but somehow smut ensues where he’s fucking her soooo good & hard”

changed the request a bit but more or less the same lol.

————————————————————————

Ron almost couldn’t, no wouldn’t, well, didn’t want to, look away. You just looked so pretty. He and Harry had just come from the common room where they were playing games with Neville. After a few hours of it, they grew weary and thought of no better idea than to come bother the two of you. That was no small feat, of course, they had to do some sneaking and snooping as boys weren’t allowed in the girls’ dorms - but, sneaking was their specialty.

Now he was regretting it. You were sat on your bed, in a tight cami that hugged your torso - more specifically your breasts, where you wore no bra, and had short shorts on that left little to nothing to the imagination. Your smooth legs were pulled up so that your knees were in front of your chest, and you were reading a book that was laid lazily on the top of your knees. Your feet were tucked under the covers, but after no serious inspection there was no doubt that you weren’t wearing any panties.

Ron wanted to groan where he stood. There was no reason you had to look so good. He looked over to Harry. He wasn’t seeing what he was seeing. He was too busy arguing with Hermione about who knows what. That didn’t matter right now. He walked over and sat on the edge of your bed careful not to shift the blanket away from your feet. He knows how you get about your feet being cold - even though you didn't bother with socks at the moment. From this angle, he could see the way your knees pushed against your breasts making them perkier and bigger. He wished he could just reach out and touch them - feel the softness under his fingers. When he sat, you shifted to make room leaving him with a quick view of your hardened nipples. No doubt from the slight breeze in the room.

Ron felt like he was going to faint if he didn’t get this out of his system…and soon.

”How’s your book y/n?” He asks.

Unlike Hermione, the books you read were anything but educational and filled with knowledge. Most of the time they were pure sin on paper. Other times it was teeth rotting sweetness that would make any girl swoon to her knees. Right now, you were reading something that had a little bit of both with just a little more of that sin. You would never admit that to Ron though. I mean, how could you? It’s sort of embarrassing. What would he think if you knew you were reading such things? And what would he think if he knew that when you read the words on those pages…you were really thinking about him?

So you pivot. You close the book quickly and shove it under the pillow next to you.

”Nothing! I mean…nothing interesting…just science.”

“What's scientific about “Passions Promise?”

Fuck. He saw the title. You look over to Harry and Hermione and could see them talking. Much different than the bickering they were doing moments before. You couldn’t really hear what they were saying - they were being unusually quiet, but before you could attempt to eavesdrop or question them, they were getting themselves up and readying to leave.

“Hey!” You nearly leap out of bed - eager to put some distance between you and Ron. “Where are you guys going?”

When you got up, your shorts shifted so that he caught a quick glimpse of what was underneath. And not sure how possible, he was even harder than he was before. Unbeknownst to you, Harry shot Ron a wink before escaping through the door - luckily escaping your interrogation. You didn’t know it yet, but he was doing you a favor. He and Hermione were both sick of the two of you. The awkwardness, the tension. All because you couldn’t admit your feelings.

“Oh you know, we’re just taking a stroll. I’m hungry. Harry’s hungry. We’re going to go find something to eat.”

”But you hate sneaking around at night.”

”Well, yes, yeah, I know. If anything I won’t go much further than the common room. We’ll see, and we’ll be back.”

”But -“ Before you could finish she shut the door in your face and left you alone.

Well, not quite alone.

Ron watches as you turn around and loves the look on your face when you notice what he has in his hands. “Passions Promise.” He watches you take a step forward towards him and can’t help admire your body on the way over. Even though he could tell you were probably embarrassed and that just made him even more giddy. And horny. The things he would do to have you under him right now.

You were horrified. And he was smug. You could tell.

”Her body was on fire, his fingertips lit a blaze amongst her skin she had never felt with any man before. He pressed kisses down her stomach she swore could make her cum had he continued -“

”Ron!” You exclaimed cutting him off. You tried to snatch the book from him and found yourself between his legs while he held it over his head and away from you. Even though you had the height advantage, he was stronger. So so strong. That’s one of the things that turns you on about him. You know if he wanted to, he could have you off of him and away from the book in a second. But he wasn’t…he was playing a game.

You stopped trying to fight against him. It was no use. You were out of breath and so was he. His cheeks were a rosy color and his lips were puffed and bitten from trying to hold you back. He does that a lot. Bites his lip. It drives you crazy.

He looks at you and it’s as if his eyes are saying a million things his mouth aren’t. And boy did you wanna hear what his mouth had to say. You wanted to feel it too.

As soon as he walked into the room pajama pants low, sweater a bit baggy on his arms, and his hair disheveled in the way you loved - you wanted to jump his bones. He was the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen - and he didn’t even know how handsome he was.

You felt as his hand - warm and comforting, made its way to the back of your thigh and pulled you forward. You took that as a hint to place both of your knees on either side of his waist and straddle him. He helped you get comfortable and you felt his hands wander.

Ron was in heaven. The girl of his dreams was in his lap and he honestly didn’t have any thought to be nervous. He just wanted you. His hands made his way up and down your thighs until finally he felt comfortable enough to grab your ass and squeeze. He smiled when he heard you softly moan. He could feel your hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“So is that what you want Y/n?”

”What?”

He brings one of his hands to your stomach lightly massaging the area.

”Kisses down your stomach you swear could make you cum?”

”Ron…”

He started kissing your neck and he could feel as you started to grind against him.

Why have you guys never done this before? Why did he wait so long?

He made his way down your neck and then down your chest. He started sucking a spot onto the top of your breast he knew would leave a mark but he didn’t care

“Tell me Y/N…”

“Yes Ron, please.”

And honestly, that’s all he needed before he stood up with you in his arms and laid you on your back. He kissed you - it was hot and sweet and feverish. He went back to trying to kiss his way down but you had other plans.

You can admit that you were a little impatient. You had waited so long for this the foreplay was the anticipation of you two finally being able to do this. Your hands went down to find the waistband of his pants and he bucked forwards once he felt your hand accidentally, or not so accidentally brushing his dick.

He helped you take them off and went to kiss you before grinding himself against you. Your shorts were long gone. You both moaned at the contact. You needed more.

“Please Ron, please just fuck me.”

“Yes ma’am.”

As he pulls down his underwear you grab a condom from your bedside drawer. He raises his eyebrows at you cheekily but takes it. You watch as he rolls it on and your mouth waters. He was big, curved and just…perfect.

You pull him down to your for a kiss by his neck and he kisses you as he lines himself up with your entrance. He prods as if asking for permission and you nod. You both moan when he’s fully inside and before you know it he has a rhythm going and he’s hitting that spot inside of you. This was better than any words on paper or scenario you could imagine.

This was real, this was tangible. What you’ve wanted for so long was finally happening. It felt so good that you never wanted it to stop. His moans were like music to your ears and you started to think of things you could do just so you could hear them again.

There wasn’t a prettier picture to Ron then what was under him. Well, who was under him. He swore he would love to see your beautiful face twisted up in pleasure for the rest of his life, as long as he was the one who could always pleasure you.

His hand trailed down to your clit which caused you to squeeze around him tighter. He nearly came on the spot but he wanted to wait until you came first.

You were shaking. The penetration plus the stimulations was just too much for you to handle and quickly you were cumming around his dick.

“Fuck, Ron, please fuck I’m cumming.”

“It’s okay baby let it go. Cum for me.”

You came and felt as Ron gently pulled out to cum as well. If you weren’t so tired you’d make a move to cover up but, you were properly fucked out.

Once Ron caught his breath he found your shorts and helped slide them back onto you.

“You’re so beautiful Y/N.”

“Shut up.”

He smiles to himself and gets himself situated as well. Before he could talk to you and and try and discuss where you guys stood now, the door was creaking open and Fred, Harry, and Hermione were coming through.

“God it reeks of sex in here what on Earth -“ Fred starts before eyeing you and Ron. “Oh finally I was starting to think you didn’t have the balls Ronny boy I -“

Ron leaps up and starts to push Fred out of the room.

“Alright that’s enough of that everyone! Show’s over. Y/N, I will see you tomorrow love and I’m expecting a recap of that wonderful novel of yours. We can talk about what it all means -“

“Or maybe reenact what it all means.” Fred interrupts cheekily.

[solarhysm]

DUST OF US - 01

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 2.6k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

AGE: 27 years old

“Where are you going?” Baekhyun asks, stretching as you get out of bed and grab all of your clothes. It was late but you hate sleeping in another bed than yours.

“I should go home.” You simply say, pulling on your panties and jeans as the younger man whines, flipping on his back.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, stay the night.” He suggests as you shake your head with an apologetic smile while putting your bra on.

“Hyesun is getting married, tomorrow. I need to get up early,” You explain, but it was an excuse. You don’t want to be more than intimate enough with anyone.

Once fully clothed, you grab your keys and turn to look at the man still laying completely naked in bed. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Aight, boss,” He teases making you roll your eyes. “One last kiss?”

“Bye,” You smile closing the door of his room, hearing him laugh before making your way out of his apartment.

Once in your car, you sigh, leaning on your seat as you stare at the ceiling. Eleven pm already, and tomorrow’s list kept growing in your mind.

Your way home was silent, you didn’t even put music on, mentally listing all the tasks to do tomorrow morning. Drive Hyesun to the hairstylist, make sure that the flowers are delivered, get her dress, and a lot more.

The house should already be decorated by now. Hyesun was getting married at her in-law’s house. They have a big yard and suggested to make the reception in there. Since you couldn’t be here to help today, you ended up with the stressful tasks tomorrow. Her friends aren’t yours.

Yes, you still have a small circle of friends in common, but Hyesun was a sunshine and most of all: an extrovert. She met her husband by boldly asking his number at a coffee shop where he was working, five years ago. Something you could never. That’s probably why you’re still single and she’s getting married.

Kicking your shoes off at your front door, you’re greeted by your cat. He was a little terror. Or a demon like Namjoon loves to call him. And you can’t blame your friend. Not only was Trash a black cat with only one ear, the other got cut off. You don’t know how.

He was already like that when you adopted him. He was skinny and really ugly when you first got him. Well... he’s still ugly, but now he’s well-fed, maybe too much, you chuckle as you kneel to scratch the top of his head. But he was also a tiny demon who attacked everyone who dared to visit you.

“Did you miss me?” You coo as the black cat let out a meow husky enough to let you think that he smokes too many cigarettes. He’s not a loud cat, he occasionally meows when he’s hungry or when you come home after a long day.

As you make your way to the kitchen, the fat cat follows you. Opening the fridge, you take out a bottle of water and gives him a treat. Your eyes fall on the dress you’ll wear tomorrow, hanged at the bedroom door.

The wedding theme was midnight sky. So, obviously, your dress is navy blue and long enough to end at your ankles with a slit on the right side. You didn’t choose it, Hyesun did.

Palming your face, you take a sip of your water and walk to your bedroom. You need a shower. You could still smell Baekhyun’s cheap cologne on your skin. And you hate it. Too used to your own scent. Not of any men anymore.

The wedding was beautiful, but you didn’t expect less from your best friend. And she was gorgeous in her wedding dress. She smiles a lot, but you never see her smile that way. And all you could think was that her jaw muscles probably hurt after four hours.

“No, what I want, is a whole butterfly starting from my shoulders to my ribs,” Your friend, Hwan explains to you as she flips to show her bare back. You can’t help but scoff, taking a sip of your wine.

“Why? You want to become a fairy or something?” You ask arching a brow as she turns to face you, frowning.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Hwan pouts, folding her arms under her chest, “I saw it on Pinterest, I totally fell in love with it.”

“A tattoo is for life, you know?” You sigh, finishing your glass before tilting your head to brush your fingers on her back, right where her ribs are. “And this part is sensitive. It’ll hurt like hell.”

Hwan shivers at your touch, and you chuckle. You know her. She wants a tattoo today, a piercing tomorrow and in two weeks she’ll regret both. The red head -a dye she did without a second thought- rolls her eyes.

“And you think I can’t handle the pain?” She asks with an attitude, a tone that makes you pinch her forearm as she squirms and step back. “Are you crazy?”

“You can’t handle the pain, Hwan.” You conclude while she rubs the part that start to turn red.

“You’re the worst tattoo artist I know. I’ll give you a bad review on Google.” She groans as you smirk and stick your tongue’s out at her, making her smile amused by you.

Your eyes scan the room full of guests you don’t know before a huge smile spread on your lips as you notice the man all alone. He was sipping his glass of whisky as he looks at his phone, feigning to be interested but he’s probably scrolling emptily. You know him. He hates when people try to connect with him.

Excusing yourself from Hwan and the other girls, you make your way to your friend, too busy on his phone to see you coming.

“Yoongs,” You call him once you’re a few steps closer to him, he lifts his cat eyes from his screen before offering you a slight smirk and opening his arms as you nestle against his chest. You’re not really touchy, but with Yoongi, it was different.

“Nice dress.” He simply says, his nose in your hair before you pull back to look at him. He looks nice too. His hair is longer, but it suits him.

“You didn’t cut your hair?” You ask as he sighs, rolling a strand between his finger as you keep an arm around his waist.

“Didn’t have the time for it.”, He mumbles taking another sip of his whisky. “I didn’t know you would be here. Since you own a tattoo shop, we don’t see you often anymore.”

“It’s my best friend’s wedding, I couldn’t miss it. She would have dragged my ass back here.” you chuckle making him smile and nod.

“That sounds like Hyesun,” He jokes as you smile.

Yoongi wasn’t that tall, but he was still everyone’s type. Calm, mysterious, and good looking. If only dating was on his plans. That guy will probably stay single his whole life, too focused on his work.

“I was looking for you everywhere!” Hyesun groans grabbing your arm.

“I was here,” You simply reply, raising your shoulders, making Yoongi looks at you both amused. You probably get along because you’re both sarcastic. At least you know that’s something he likes about you.

“Thanks Sherlock, Mystery solved!” She rolls her eyes, before pulling you away from your friend, “Come on, follow me, I want to take pictures with you.”

She quickly waves at Yoongi, blowing a kiss at him as he didn’t move before pushing you away.

“He’s like a good old wine. Every time I see him, he’s getting hotter.” She smirks as you make your way to the photographer.

“Aren’t you married?” You joke making her roll her eyes.

“Married, not blind. As long as I touch with my eyes,” She adds as you shake your head, laughing, joining the girls.

Yoongi leaves his empty glass on the table next to him, an amused smirk on his face. If you stayed longer, he would have been part of an interesting reunion.

“Shit, I almost peed myself. There is a whole queue at the male bathroom,” The younger man groans, coming back next to Yoongi as he takes back his beer. “Hyung?”

The older man turns to his friend and arches a brow to show that he’s listening.

“Hyesun told me that there was a private bathroom upstairs for the closest friends” Yoongi simply mumbles, making Jungkook groans as he ties his hair into a bun.

“And you tell me only now?” the tattooed man sighs as he pulls up his sleeves, the temperature of the room getting hotter. Or maybe it’s him from running here and there.

“You left without a word,” Yoongi shrugs like it was obvious, his eyes still on the group of girls making funny faces at the camera. Jungkook lets out a chuckle.

“Which one?” He asks his friend who simply arches a brow. “I’m sure it’s the red head. You always had a think for girls with weird hair colors.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything. He’s used to the teasing. It’s a loss of energy, Jungkook was competitive and if you say that the sky was blue, he would tell otherwise until you tell him he's right.

Jungkook smiles proudly, turning his attention to the bunch of girls. Hyesun had pretty friends, but he’s not surprised. Until he recognized a face. A face he knows too well, a face he loved deeply once upon a time.

You didn’t change. Well… Your hair is shorter. You never liked your hair short, not after your mother spent your childhood cutting it into a bob.

The bangs too. You hated them. But today, you wore it gracefully. His doe eyes trail the length of it, how it brushes your shoulders when you laugh, how you have to push your bang asides.

He never hated you. Even after you broke his heart. Even after coming home to an empty apartment because you disappeared, or when you blocked his number and changed yours. He never hated you.

“You said she wasn’t here.” He frowns, turning to Yoongi who simply arches a brow.

“She wasn’t supposed to.” Yoongi replies, taking a sip of his new glass.

“I shouldn’t have come.” Jungkook sighs, his brows still in a frown creating a slight wrinkle between them.

“Kookie,” Yoongi turns his gaze to his friend who’s clearly uncomfortable. “You’re back in town. You both have the same friends group. What did you expect? You’ll have to confront her one day or another.”

“Y/N,” Hwan calls you as you were taking another glass of wine, facing her with a small hm? “The guy you talked earlier,”

“Yoongi?”

“Yeah, something like that. Do you know his friend?” She asks as you follow her gaze to the large man next to Yoongi, his back facing you. You liked the tattoos, and the muscular frame. The long hair was clearly a bonus.

“No,” You reply, your eyes trailing on Yoongi’s friend. You’ll definitely ask Yoongi who that is later.

“He’s hot,” Hwan comments as you nod, taking a sip of your wine before spitting everything out. You cough when the mysterious man turns around, laughing with your friend.

And almost immediately, you hide behind the table that separates you. Was this a joke?

“What’s wrong? One of your one-night stands?” Hwan chuckles clearly amused to see you, on your knees, trying to hide under the table. If only you could be sucked up by the floor. It was stupid. It was an old story. It’s been seven years since you dumped him like an old, forgotten sock.

“It’s my ex,” You almost whisper, making Hwan wide her eyes and hide with you like she even met him before.

You never thought that you’ll see him again. He disappeared for Japan right after your breakup for his studies. And you didn’t think about him since then. Well, it’s a lie.

You thought about him the three first years after your split. But, he was just some old memories from the shoebox under your bed. 

Some love letters written by a teenage boy, an empty bottle of perfume and a shirt of his that you didn’t have the heart to throw. But that’s all he was. A shoebox of memories.

“Oh damn,” Hwan murmurs, “How did you get that hot piece of man?” She asks as you roll your eyes.

He wasn’t that hot when you started dating him. He had a chestnut haircut, was too skinny even if he was the sporty type, and huge doe eyes. Now he’s…. a man.

“I think… I need to get out”, You swallow, get up and finish your glass. Walking to the backyard, you catch a bottle on your way.

Thankfully, Hwan didn’t follow you. A few persons were outside, some of them making out, the others too drunk, and probably getting some fresh air like you.

Did Hyesun invite him? Why did he come? He knows that she’s your friend. That you’d be here. Palming your face, you lean back against the wall, taking a sip of your bottle of champagne. Fuck… This is childish. You’re twenty-seven, for God’s sake. Act like an adult.

“Hiding?” You heard on your right, making you almost jump.

And here he was, a few meters away, a bottle of beer in hand. His eyes changed. He grew up.

“Good evening, Jungkook,” You breathe as he offers you a slight smile, his lips mostly forming a line.

“Good evening, Y/N,” He replies, making a few steps closer, “Long time no see.”

“Yeah...”

A silence falls between you before he takes a breath like he wants to calm his nerves too. Were you two nervous around each other?

“How… have you been?” He asks with a soft voice.

“Good. You?”

“Good.”

“Nice.”

You wanted to punch yourself. That conversation was stupid. Back then, you two could debate about everything for hours. Now, you can’t even have a basic conversation.

“I… Didn’t know you were back.” You say, looking at the grass at your feet.

“Yeah… I- I missed Korea.” He raises his shoulders slightly before taking a sip of his beer.

“Oh…Okay.” You scrunch your nose and take a sip of your bottle to not look too much stupid but his lips crease in an amused smile at the bottle in your hand. Neither of you says anything. And it’s weird. “That’s… some cool tattoos,” You add, trying to make the conversation as you point his entire inked sleeve with your chin.

“Yeah?” He chuckles awkwardly. “I always wanted tattoos.”

“I know.” You reply, almost immediately, making him lift his gaze to you as your eyes widen. “You- hm- You thought that Yakuza were cool.” you continue as he nods, his eyes still on you while you look away.

“You remembered.”

You clench your jaw slightly and take another sip of champagne. You hate champagne, but you didn’t read what was written on the bottle when you took it.

“Your father must be proud of you. I heard you had your own tattoo shop.” He says as your gaze soften. Jungkook and your dad were always close, he even called him ‘son’. Your father was in fact, proud of you.

“He is”, was all you could reply, and he nods silently before taking a deep breath.

“Can I… ask you a question? I need to understand something” He frowns a little, turning his head to look at the backyard before finally glancing back at you. He is waiting for you to answer and you simply stare at him. “Why did you leave me, Y/N?”

< previous - MASTERLIST - next >

WATTPAD.

buy me a coffee<3 (every chapters/drabbles are posted as soon as i'm done writing them.)

[backtothefanfiction]

The Bet | fratboy!Joaquin x Reader

Summary: you and Joaquin get chosen for the annual abstinence challenge between your two houses. It doesn’t go well.

Warnings: 18+ Only!!! !!!SMUT ALERT!!! PinV, praise kink, abstinence, language that would make Steve Rogers squirm

Word Count: 3.8k+

A/N: seeing as I am still no closer to having Oh baby finished, I thought I’d finish this piece off I started the other week for you thirsty lot. Hope you enjoy. Remember to reblog not just like 👍 have a great weekend!

Abstinence week, the one week of the calendar year no one was looking forward to. Each fraternity and sorority had to elect one member to go the whole week without having sex. Or watching porn. No kissing, touching or anything else of a sexual nature. Most of the college organisations didn’t really care. After all, it was more of a guideline than anything else- but not for your sorority. No, you guys were stuck in that stupid abstinence week bet with the fraternity across the street, a tradition that went back decades to even before you were born.

“Alright, alright, everyone gather round,” Peter said as you all crammed around the sofas in their backyard, ready for the choosing ceremony. The only people who didn’t have to pick a piece of paper out of the cups were those who had been chosen last year (if they hadn’t graduated that was).

“Okay, you all know the deal, everyone picks a piece of paper. Whoever ends up with the black spot, is this years competitors,” Jessica called out. “Ladies,” she said, stepping forward with the cup and making her way around your group, as Peter started to go round and do the same thing for the boys.

Gods you hoped it wasn’t you. You had a really stressful week coming up as it was and if you couldn’t let off a little steam, you for sure felt like you were gonna drown.

When the cup got to you there were only 5 pieces of paper left. You swirled them around as much as possible before you picked, hoping that someone else would have already picked out the cursed one.

“Right, has everyone got their piece of paper?” Jessica called out as she took the last piece from the girls cup and Peter did the same with the boys. “On the count of three, ready?”

“1…2…3!” Peter called out and there was a tense shuffling of paper as the little folded slips were all opened.

“Yesss!!!”

“Thank fuck for that!” People began to say, but you were silent.

Fuck! Absolutely double fucking shit balls! Of course you ended up with the spot.

“Who is it? Who's got it?” Jessica shrieked excitedly now she knew she was in the clear.

“Me,” you said dejectedly, lifting your little scrap of paper with the solid black spot in the air.

“And me,” one of the guys sat in the middle of one of the scruffy sofas said, lifting a couple of fingers in the air to distinguish himself from the group.

You recognised him. Joaquin Torres; fellow junior, basketball enthusiast and expert beer pong player. But he was also a bit of a ladies man and you knew this week was gonna be a lot tougher on him than it was gonna be on you.

You both stepped forward, as per tradition, to shake hands. “May the best man or woman win,” he said as he reached out his hand for yours.

“May the best man or woman win,” you agreed.

The first couple of days didn’t feel too bad. You threw yourself into your college work. Didn’t care when the other girls brought their current hookups over and made out with them in front of everyone. Or had sex with them really loudly in their bedrooms.

Sure it was annoying that due to the rules you had to abstain from reading your usual smutty romance books before bed, but over all, those first few days were easy.

But then the deadline for your paper began to loom closer and suddenly the whole situation felt a little less bearable. You were stressed and you couldn’t use any of your usual ways to relieve the tension building up inside of you. Instead of spending time with people in the common rooms of the house, you now avoided them completely.

Jessica had even set up a sorority cinema night one evening and even just looking at the couple on the screen kissing drove you mad with want for the things you couldn’t have.

“You know, it would be so easy to get him to break,” your roommate Gwen said as she began riffling through her closet looking for the best outfit to wear for tonight’s party. It was a last minute thing organised by the boys across the way, but if you were being honest, you really didn’t want to go. You were stressed out as hell about the assignment you had to finish off and hand in on Monday morning and so frustrated you wanted to tear your hair out. But you also knew the party would be a great distraction- and you could really do with one of those right about now.

“But isn’t that cheating?” You asked her as you closed down your laptop and put it to one side.

“I guess it all depends how you do it,” she said, picking out a black and white dress and holding it up to herself in the mirror.

“What did you have in mind?” You asked her.

“I don’t know, just talk to him. Turn on your womanly charms,” she said, waggling her eyebrows at you.

“But I don’t have any womanly charms,” you retorted.

“Sure you do,” she said, throwing the dress down on her bed as she made her way over to you. “You’ve got boobs. Extremely natural fluttery eyelashes- which I’m not at all jealous of by the way,” she joked. “With the right outfit and makeup, he’ll really struggle to keep his hands off you.”

“Okay…,” you say, dragging out the word, still not fully feeling confident in your ability to pull this off. “But what am I supposed to say?” you asked.

“Tell him he looks good,” she said quickly, as if the idea was just coming to her and she couldn’t hold it back. “Tell him the bet’s had you thinking of him. Back him into a corner,” she kept saying, adding more and more suggestions as they popped into her head. You made a quick mental note of them, despite doubting you ever had the confidence to really go ahead with this plan; but you were desperate and running out of time and needed to do anything you could to help alleviate those feelings of frustration so you could finally focus on that paper.

Two hours later you were stood on the front porch of the boys house in a low cut black mini dress, denim jacket and platform sneakers and still feeling not the least bit prepared for the mission you were coming here to carry out. Gwen had done your hair and make up for you and when you had taken in the final look in the mirror before you left, you couldn’t deny you did feel hot; but was it enough to turn Joaquin’s eye and get him to break?

As you entered the house and moved towards the drinks table for some liquid courage, you kept your eyes on the crowd, looking out for your target. He was of course over at the beer pong table, absolutely decimating the competition as per usual.

“YES!!!” he cried out in victory, as the ball he’d just thrown, bounced into the final cup at the other end of the table.

“That’s how it’s done!” one of his buddies cried out beside him, clapping him on the shoulder as one of the guys on the losing team, fished out the little blue ball and drank the warm beer in the bottom of the cup. “Who’s next?!” The guy then shouted, looked around for a challenger in the crowd, Joaquin’s own gaze moving with him until it landed on you.

His eyes dipped to take in your attire, the little black dress sitting high on your thigh and showing off way more leg than you were used to, but he didn’t seem to mind. You watched him closely as he swallowed hard and tried to move his gaze to anywhere else in the room but you- but his eyes kept glancing back.

You took a moment to look him up and down too. He was in a plain black T-shirt that hugged his biceps and enhanced his bronzed skin, black and white basketball shorts he wore low on his hips and a red and white cap atop his head that he wore backwards. You recognised it as his competitive sports mode look. Although he was a lot less dressed up than you were, he was still hot and you quickly found yourself growing a little bit flustered as your eyes became transfixed on the muscles of his arms. You lifted your cup to your lips to help hide it as he gave you a knowing smirk, but you didn’t think the act was achieving much.

Instead you left the room, seeking out some fresh air in the garden so you could gather your thoughts. As you went to sit on the back steps, the tops of your thighs rubbed together agonisingly and you found yourself silently cursing at whoever it was who came up with this whole godamned idea.

“How you holding up there?” You heard his voice say from behind you and you silently cursed again. Why did you let Gwen talk you into this. You were so unprepared and he was so competitive. He no doubt had already worked out your intentions for the evening the moment he laid eyes on you and was about to go on the offensive. Oh fuck, fuck, fuckety, fu-

“Fine,” you lied, leaning back slightly to look up at him and give him as good a look down the top of your dress at your cleavage as you could.

“Good,” he nodded quietly, trying desperately to keep his eyes on your face, but ultimately failing as they dipped to focus that little bit lower.

“How about you?” you asked him as he shuffled slightly and swallowed deeply.

“Yeah- I mean, yes!” he corrected himself as his voice broke nervously and it made you think, maybe Gwen had been right. Maybe this would be easy after all.

“What you drinking?” he asked as he came to sit next to you, his knee barely brushing yours as he began to man spread a little.

“Vodka, cranberry,” you said to him, as you swirled your cup in your hand.

“Can I try?” he asked, his hand hesitantly reaching out, but not quite touching you.

“You never had one before?” you asked and he silently shook his head. “It’s sweet,” you warn him as you pass him the cup, your finger tactically brushing over his in the exchange. It was a move meant to tease him, but unfortunately you felt it might have instead had the opposite effect, as a shiver moved through your hand and up your arm before moving down your body to between your legs. It was a feeling only made worse when he kept his eyes on yours whilst he drank from your cup, the moment both intimate and suggestive.

“Mmm, it’s nice,” he nodded as he handed the cup back, but you could tell he wouldn’t be exchanging his beer for it anytime soon.

“So have you been a good girl,” he asked. “Keeping your hands to yourself?” He raised his eyebrows at you suggestively.

“Have you been being a good boy?” you rebuttaled and he let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head slightly at your audacity, but you also noticed the way he squirmed slightly.

“A little birdy told me you’re one frustrated little chicken,” he said leaning closer to you, his voice dropping slightly like what he had to say was some kind of secret.

“And who told you that?”

“Gwen,” he smirked, leaning back on the step above as he shifted his legs to spread even wider, his thigh well and truly rubbing against your own now.

“Traitor,” you muttered.

“Come on now, it’s not her fault you’ve been tossing and turning all night and keeping her awake. I bet a nice orgasm would sort that problem right out for you,” he said teasingly.

“Well, unless you’re deciding to be a gentleman and go first and lose the bet so I can…” you said sneakily.

“Uh, uh cariño. Not gonna happen,” he said, shaking his head vehemently, before he took a casual sip of his own drink.

“What if we did it together?” you suggested, suddenly getting an idea.

“What? Like both lose at the same time?” he asked, curiously leaning forward again as if you were both conspiring. Which I guess you were.

“Yeah,” you reply. “If we touch ourselves at the exact same time,” you suggest.

His brow furrowed as he thought it over. “And what if we touch each other?” he suggested seriously.

You took a moment to look him up and down again. “I could be up for that,” you said, your face as equally as serious as his as you began to negotiate terms.

“But what will everybody else say?” he sighed, leaning back and looking over his shoulder at a group of his brothers messing around with a keg in the kitchen. “I mean, they’re gonna want a winner,” he said, his eyebrow raised at you.

“Okay…” you said thoughtfully, dragging out the word. “What about, first one to make the other finish is the winner?” you suggested.

The corner of his mouth turned up playfully and you could tell he liked the sound of that idea. “Alright, you’re on,” he said, holding his hand out for you to shake on the terms.

“You know, I might as well go in there and shout my victory now,” he bragged as you let go of his hand and he began to get to his feet.

“Oh I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” you replied as you let him help you up.

“I guess we’ll see,” he said suggestively.

“I guess we’ll see,” you replied.

He snuck you up a back staircase in the house so no one would see you, before he quickly pulled you into his room and locked the door. You were both so desperate now, neither one of you waited a second longer than the click of the latch to smash your lips against one another, officially ending the chastity rules.

His hands felt firm as they roamed over your body, his fingers slowly inching up the bottom of your dress further to grab ahold of your ass and press you harder against his body. You could already feel his erection pushing against your belly beneath his shorts and you couldn’t wait to feel it within you.

As he blindly began to back you towards his bed, you moved your hand up to knock his stupid backwards cap off and expose his dark and luscious curls underneath. He was just the right side of needing a haircut that it really allowed you to dig your fingers in deep and get lost in them as his mouth opened wider and your tongues began to dance in the space between your lips.

The backs of your knees hit the edge of the mattress and he skillfully dipped you onto your back before he climbed on top you, your lips still attacking one another with fervour.

“Fuck, been wanting to do this for ages,” he muttered into your lips as his fingers gripped bruisingly at your bare thighs beneath your dress.

“Liar, you’d barely even looked my way until our names got pulled out of those cups,” you threw back, as you parted long enough for him to lean back and rip his top off.

“Not true,” he muttered as he leaned forward and began to trail kisses down your neck and across the top of your chest.

“Then why have you never made a move before?”

“Because I didn’t think you were interested in me. I’m not exactly one to stick my nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

“But you’ll do that now?” You teased as he moved down between your legs, lifting up the bottom of your dress and playfully nipping at your clit over the top of your panties. The feeling made your legs shiver and you let out a small frustrated whine.

“Ooh baby, I don’t think you’re gonna last long,” he said, kissing the insides of your thighs.

“Oh yeah,” you said, gripping his curls in your fingers and pulling him by his head back up the bed so his eyes were in line with yours. “We’ll see about that,” you challenged competitively, your other hand sneaking forward to cup his length over his shorts.

“No foreplay?” he stated in an attempt to keep things even.

“No foreplay,” you agreed, before you both parted long enough to completely strip off.

“You got condoms?” you asked as he kicked his shorts off of his ankles.

“In the drawer,” he nodded and you raced to get one out and hand it over to him.

As you watched him roll it down over his hardened length, you lay back on his bed with your legs open, your fingers passing through your folds and pumping inside you a couple of times just to make sure you were ready. He looked up and caught your eyes just as you circled your clit, your teeth biting into your bottom lip as you tried to hold yourself together.

“You ready?” he asked as he shifted back up onto the bed, his left hand moving to pull you down the bed towards him, whilst his right hand pumped his length in preparation.

“Don’t lose on the first pump now,” you teased him and he glowered playfully at you. But it was you who almost lost it when he suddenly thrust into you.

You both stilled, holding each other tight, your fingernails grazing his shoulders as you both allowed yourselves a second to adjust and compose yourselves again.

“So you gonna move or what?” you taunted him after a moment of you both being completely silent.

“Yeah, I’m on it. Jeez you’re so impatient,” he said with a suave furrowed brow and teasing smile that made you reluctantly want to swoon.

“Oh my god, come on Torres,” you groaned.

“Ask nicely,” he said with a grin but you just looked at him as if you were questioning if he was being ‘for real.’

“Man, I’ve never known someone so eager to lose a bet,” he teased, still not moving.

You rolled your eyes. “Come on.” you said with a whine.

“Ask nicely.”

“Fine. Joaquin, please would you-“ before you could even finish asking he slowly rolled his hips and his cock moved agonisingly slowly inside you, gliding over just the right spot to make you shiver.

It was torturously slow, every thrust intended to cause as much sensitivity for you, whilst allowing him to keep his control. “Oh fuck,” you whimpered.

“Oh that’s it. That’s it baby. Come on,” he encouraged you.

“Oh my god, would you just shut up,” you snapped back at him playfully.

“Why? You got a little praise kink? My words gonna make you cum?” he asked with a shit eating grin. You loathed to admit it, but you both knew he was right. “Want me to tell you you’re a good girl. That you’re doing so well for me?” he teased. “Come on baby, be a good girl. Cum for me. Cum all over my-“

“Oh my god, just shut up,” you gritted, reaching up to smash your lips into his to distract them and give them something else to do.

You tried to distract your mind. To think of anything else to help you ride this out and distract you from that feeling growing between your legs, but you were so sensitive you didn’t know how long you could hold out. You needed to find a way to make him break first. You needed him to go all out. Stop fucking you slow and timidly just for your pleasure. You had to make him think he was winning.

And there in lie the answer.

“Uh, oh my god. No, no, no. Stop, stop, stop please. I’m gonna-“ you said with faked panic, your body squirming as you tried to get away from him and sell the bit.

“Come on, baby, give it to me,” he countered, his fingers digging into your thighs to hold you in place as he began to pump inside you that little bit quicker.

“I can’t- please, no! Uh!” you cried out, screwing up your eyes like you were teetering on the edge of climax.

“There you go, come on baby, just give in,” he panted as his hips picked up speed. But his thumb moved onto your clit, the rough pad pressing down and putting pressure on the little sensitive spot.

“Fuck,” you genuinely cried, your cunt clamping down on him as you tried to keep yourself in check and hold it in. But he thought you were cumming.

“Ha, yeah. Who’s your daddy?” he cried out in triumph as he continued to pump inside you. “Uh thank fuck,” he cried out as his hips picked up speed, his head hanging with the exhaustion of trying to hold back his own release- but no more.

“Come on Joaquin, cum for me,” you encouraged as you reached round to cup his balls as he thrust once, twice, three times more before collapsing over you as he came with a grunt.

He stilled and you felt his length pulsate inside you as he filled up the condom. He groaned as he slowly pulled out of you and rolled over to flop on his back on the bed. You couldn’t help but let out your shit eating grin as he struggled to compose himself.

“What? Why are you smiling like that?” he asked when he finally looked over and saw the Cheshire Cat wide smile on your face. “Why are you smiling like that?” he asked again, his face falling into a look of worry as he propped himself up.

“You came,” you said to him.

“Yeah but you did first,” he countered.

“Did I?” you asked. “Or did you just assume I did.” you teased him.

“No, you did.” he said growing animated. “I felt it.”

“Did you?” you asked.

His face fell into a look of horror, “Oh shit,” he exclaimed as what you’d done fully hit him. “You faked it.”

“Yup,” you grinned.

“No.”

“Yes. And now you have to go tell all your friends out there that you lost the bet.” you beamed with victory.

He groaned, his head hanging forward. “Uh fine,” he conceded. “But-“ he said, his brown eyes locking onto yours earnestly, “not before I give you a real orgasm.,” he countered, feeling his pride on the line.

“Fine,” you grinned, agreeing to the terms. “But I’m not calling you daddy,” you said, laying back ready for whatever it was he planned to do to you. He let out a small breathy laugh of amusement over your joke, before shifting himself down to nuzzle between your folds until you came all over his tongue… again… and again… and again.

For Joaquin, losing never tasted so sweet.

[wonderjanga]

So Ive had this prompt stuck in my head, dunno if you've done it before, but:

Billy unexpectedly powers down due to a villain's weapon. But instead of being, well, scruffy little billy, he ends up looking like a greek child with the toga (?) and all. What would the JL reaction be?

This whole incident started half a year ago with the divine beings in his head arguing about something. Arguing was a surprisingly common occurrence despite the fact that most of these guys were over thousands of years old. He tended to normally tune them out whenever this was happening.

Achilles: “BILLY!”

Marvel: *startles* “Yes, Achilles?”

Achilles: “Chiton or toga?”

Marvel: “Huh?

Mercury: “Chiton or toga? We’re making you a gift. Aren’t we like so kind?”

Marvel: “A gift…?” *sounds weary* “I don’t like the sound of that. What are you planning?”

Zeus: “Nothing!”

Marvel: “Solomon?”

Solomon: “It really is nothing. This will actually aid you in case of any accidents while in field.”

Marvel: “Okay then…”

Hercules: “NOW PICK!”

Marvel: “Alright, alright, dang. Uh… What’s a chiton?”

Zeus: “What’s a- What’s a chiton? I’ve never felt such a shame for one of my children before.”

Marvel: “I’m not your kid, but okay.”

Solomon: “Billy, a chiton is a tunic that was worn traditionally by the Greeks.”

Marvel: “Oooh. Uh… okay then I pick that one.”

Zeus: “Ha ha, suck it Atlas!”

Atlas: “I also wanted him to pick the Chiton…?”

Zeus: “I know. I just don’t like you. I thought that was obvious by now.”

Billy didn’t know that Robin was like five feet away and watching this entire interaction go down. To Damian, this grown ass man was just having a full conversation with himself, oblivious to the world. He reported this behavior to his father later.

Batman: “That’s normal.”

Robin!Damian: “Pardon?”

Batman: “That’s normal for Marvel. Think nothing of it.”

Anyways, fast forward six months. Billy forgot about the gift thing the Gods were talking about. Mostly because they hadn’t even given him the gift. Then the time came when Billy was forced to be detransformed. All because of a stupid villain’s machine going haywire. Sivana could do better. So now, Billy was standing in front of the JL who had surrounded him in a half circle.

(Ancient Greek is in italics)

Billy: “Uh… Hello?” *doesn’t even realize he’s decked out in the Ancient Greek drip, complete with the chiton from earlier*

JL: *staring in befuddlement*

Supes: “He’s been de-aged?”

WW: *steps forward* “Brother?”

Mercury: “Okay, Billy, stare at her for like three seconds and then be like you’re Zeus‘s kin?”

Billy: *doesn’t even know why he’s doing this but does the three second stare* “You’re Zeus’ kin?”

Mercury: “You’re my favorite champion now.”

WW: “I am. I am Diana Prince. It’s a pleasure to meet you. What is your name?”

Solomon: “Thavma is a nice choice.”

Zeus: “So is Keraunos. Which is arguably better because it means lightning.”

Billy: “Thavma, or Keraunos. Either is fine.”

Flash: *whispering to Batman* “Spooky, what’re they saying?”

Batman: “I don’t know. I’m versed in Greek, not Ancient Greek. I can just barely make out an eighth of the words they’re saying.”

Soon after all of this, he was taken to the Watchtower. The JL dropped him off in a rec room and assigned Robin to watch him so the team could go to a meeting room to discuss the whole ordeal.

Robin!Damian: *looking him up and down*

Billy: *can feel the judgment through Robin’s mask* “What is it?”

Robin!Damian: “What?”

Billy: “I said what is it?”

Robin!Damian: “Tt. A language barrier.”

Billy: *frog blinks* “Language barrier…?”

Solomon: “I’ll just turn off the Ancient Greek for you.”

Billy: *clears his throat* “Can you understand me now?” *slight Greek accent still there*

Robin!Damian: “More clearly. Yes.”

Billy: “Cool, now what is it?”

Robin!Damian: “Pardon?”

Billy: “What is it? I can tell you’re staring at me judgmentally through that thing on your face.”

Robin!Damian: *visibly bristles* “I am not.”

Billy: “Yes, you are.”

Robin!Damian: “I am not.”

Billy: “You are.”

Robin!Damian: “Am not.”

Billy: “Yuh huh.”

Robin!Damian: “Nuh uh-” *realizes he let that leave his mouth* “Why are you acting like a child?

Billy: “I am a child.”

Robin!Damian: *stares at him for a couple moments* “The reason I am staring at you judgmentally, is that I had previously assumed you had been born an adult.”

Billy: “Who told you that?”

Robin!Damian: “Nightwing.”

Billy: *remembers he’s not supposed to know who that is* “Who?”

Robin!Damian: “He’s someone you’ll meet when you’re an adult.”

Billy: “Okay…?”

*silence*

Somehow, the two ended up crawling in the vents together. You couldn’t even ask Billy how it happened.

Robin!Damian: “Crawl faster.”

Billy: “I’m trying.”

They spent a while up there, crawling around, eavesdropping, stopping every now and then in the kitchen for snacks.

Robin!Damian: “This is chocolate.” *hands him a chocolate bar*

Billy: *eyes literally shining as he looks at the bar because he rarely gets to have chocolate*

Robin!Damian: “You open it like so.” *opens his own bar* “Now come. We must continue on the move. Back to the vents.”

This went on until the JL started to look for them.

Flash: *searching the rec room frantically because they should’ve been here*

Robin!Damian and Billy: *descend from the vents*

Robin!Damian: “What do you need speedster?”

Flash: *screams*

[youleftmenochoicebut]

WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW — james potter x reader.

SUMMARY. — the highlights of your relationship with james fleamont potter

PAIRING. — james potter x fem!reader

WARNINGS. — fuck around and find out; use of Y/N; english isn't my first language;

A/N. — so this is inspired by the masterpiece margaret by ldr!! also, first post, yay!!!

๋࣭ ⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭ first meeting; 6th year (1976)

"if you're gonna jump, i'd love to see you do a double flip." James' voice sounds out through the cold night air, and you can hear him chuckle as you turn around, eyebrow raised.

okay, you're totally surprised to see him here, way past the curfew, on the top floor of the astronomy tower while the wind whooshes rather lightly for the winter season. of course you know who he is, everyone at hogwarts knows him and his group of friends, the marauders. but, being a ravenclaw who doesn't stuck their nose in other people's business, you never had the pleasure of being a victim to one of their pranks.

"i'm not jumping." you reply after a moment, stepping away from the edge as you throw the muggle cigarette you'd been smoking to the floor, stomping it out. you reach your hand up, brushing your hair behind your ears, and for a while you two just stare at each other.

"everyone's already packing for the christmas break." he murmurs, adjusting the glasses sitting on his nose, a smirk playing on his lips and he strolls closer to you, leaning back against the railing. "you're going home, or not?"

your brows furrow, nose crinkling, as you eye him up and down suspiciously. you're pretty sure it's a bad omen that James Potter approached you just like that, out of the blue, but you decide to humor him anyway.

"no, i... i'm staying here." you answer his question, biting down on your lower lip, and you look away with a shrug. "don't you have a game tomorrow, Potter?"

"i do, Y/N. what, you gonna come?" James pushes his hands inside the pockets of his pajama pants, smiling at you, raising his eyebrow. you don't even try to ask how he knows your name, you probably don't want to know either way.

you shake your head and chuckle, the air escaping your mouth looking like smoke in the freezing weather. "quidditch isn't really my thing." you respond, and you chew on your words for a beat before adding. "catch the snitch for me, huh?"

he seems taken aback for a quick second, but lightens up soon enough, and nods eagerly. like a golden retriever, you think. with that thought, you take off, waving him goodbye as you swiftly disappear down the staircase.

๋࣭ ⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭ first date; 6th year (1977)

you stand in front of the only mirror in your dorm, most of your dormmates already out and about except for Sage, who's sitting on her bed and watching you closely as you fiddle with the hem of your dress.

"i look ridiculous." you groan, tugging down the tiny skirt of your outfit, glancing back at Sage. the dress is from a muggle friend of yours, apparently very in fashion now as she stated in her letter, but you can't feel more out of your element. it's not that you don't like clothes like that, it's just that you almost never wear them.

however, you're getting ready for a date with the James Potter, and you want to look your best. oh, and it's Valentine's Day, so you want to somehow prove to everyone who'll see you that you're worthy of James.

"you look great, stop whining." Sage rolls her eyes, munching on her chocolate frog, and she scratches her cat behind his ear.

you sigh, nodding at your friend's aggressive approval, then grab your bag, quickly putting your wand into it, and you saunter over to Sage's bed. you kiss her forehead, chuckling when you hear her let out an ew.

you leave your dormitory, run down the stairs, then sigh again as you get out of the common room, bracing yourself at the challenge of getting to the end of the staircase. and so it takes you some time, time that you spend overthinking almost every interaction you had with James in the two months you have known each other.

when you finally arrive at your meeting spot, your hair's all messed up and tousled, your eyes bloodshot from the wind and lips dry from constantly licking them. instead of Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop or the Three Broomsticks, James insisted on you two meeting here. in the Hogwarts grounds, near the Great Lake. usually, even during that time of the year, the grounds were full of students. but now, they're clear, except for a big red blanket on the snowy grass, with James sitting down there. there must be some spell casted around that area that keeps it warm, because James doesn't have his coat on. you approach him with a smile, dropping down next to him, and the heat hits you, making you loose your jacket soon.

for a moment, James just stares at you, mouth agape, his eyes shimmering with pure happiness. "you're beautiful." he breathes out as you nervously tug down your skirt, and a chuckle escapes your lips.

"thank you." your smile widens, and you look at the picnic basket he prepared, smelling the freshly baked cookies and the two bottles of juice. he notices your eyes wandering, his hand reaching out and grabbing a strand of your hair, untangling it gently.

"uh... i made the cookies myself." he murmurs, and when he meets your amused gaze, he shakes his head. "yeah, no i didn't. i asked the kitchen elves to make them. but they were more than happy to do it!"

you laugh heartily, feeling the blush creep up your cheeks at his touch, his hand dropping down and resting over your wrist.

๋࣭ ⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭ first fight; 6th year (1977)

exam season is really fucking with you this year. after last year's OWLs you really thought i'd be easier this year, but clearly not. you're running low on sleep, nourishment, and your patience. almost every waking moment you're spending in classes, doing your assignments or studying in the library with Lily and the other gryffindor girls with whom you've become quite close ever since you started dating James.

well, when it comes to James himself, you haven't seen him much lately. and when you do, it mostly goes one way with you doing both of your homework while James watches you with hearts in the place of pupils, and leaves kisses and touches all over your body.

it's 9.30pm on friday when you're making your way back to your common room after yet another study session in the library, being one of few students out in the hallways at this time. you turn round the corner, your body collapsing against someone else's, and you end up on the floor on your ass. a yelp escapes your mouth, and when you look up ready to shout at the idiot in your way, you realize it's your idiot.

"you look like hell, sweetheart." James smirks, glancing down at you as he leans in with outstretched hand, helping you up smoothly. you let out a huff, rolling your eyes, annoyed out of your goddamn mind, and you step away.

"wow, James, thank you. that's just what a girl wants to hear from her boyfriend after a shitty day." you murmur, wanting to just go past him, because you can feel your temper run short already. but of course, James being James, doesn't allow you to do so. he grasps your wrist as you try to pass him by, and you yank away the moment you feel his hand on yours. "sod off!" you hold your books closer to your chest, frowning momentarily.

"you've been ignoring me, Y/N." he says quietly, and it's probably the first time you hear him so serious and toned down. "i'm trying, i'm making effort, and you're acting like studying is the only thing that matters."

"because, right now, it is! it is to me!" you raise your voice, your hand clasping at the material of your shirt, and you shake your head. "i've been slacking off the whole spring because of you, and now i have all this shit to catch up. i don't have time for nonsense."

you don't even realize the blow that your words are to James, too sleep-deprived to notice the way his lips purse or how he almost seems to physically hurt at your statement.

"is that all you think we are? nonsense?" he whispers, ruffling his curls in an anxious gesture. "cause if that's the case, then i'll stop bothering you."

"no, James, you know that's not what i meant." you groan, shaking your head, and you step closer to him. "i'm sorry. i'm just so constantly tired and... sorry."

๋࣭ ⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭ first 'i love you'; summer of 1977

the sun is hitting your body in all the right angles, a cigarette dangling between your lips, as you lay on your back, on the jetty while the boys play in the water. you, Remus, and Peter have spend the past week at the Potter manor with James and Sirius, and James' parents. it's mid july, summer in all its glory, and you try to live it to the fullest.

you squeal and open your eyes the moment you feel drops of water fall all over you, and you're met with James' athletic figure right in front of you. he kneels down, face to face with you, quickly taking the cigarette from you and taking a drag. rolling your eyes, you sit up, pushing his shoulder playfully. you watch the rest of the marauders with a small smile on your face, Peter standing in the most shallow point of the lake and sipping on some fire whiskey, Sirius and Remus making out with only their heads visible out of the water. James rests his chin on your shoulder, one arm wrapping around your waist and tugging you closer against his chest, and you glance up at him through half-lidded eyes, observing the way he blows out the smoke.

"i love you." you whisper suddenly, as if the thought just struck you, your hand raising to push his glasses up his nose, and you lean in to plant a soft kiss on his cheek.

"yeah?" he replies, his voice having that cocky edge to it, but you can see his heart truly explode, eyes full of love. "i love you, sweetheart."

๋࣭ ⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭ engagement; fall of 1978

after a whole day of unpacking boxes and moving (using magic) furniture around, both you and James are truly exhausted. you’ve just moved into your first house together, having lived with James’ parents for the summer, and despite needing some renovations you are able to live in it without a problem.

as James takes a break on the couch, probably reading this month’s Quidditch Times, you’re trying to cook something for dinner. you’ve decided you don’t want to have a house elf, neither yours or James’ family ever had one, and you two aren’t changing that. but, that means you have to learn how to cook. which actually turns out to be quite the challenge.

two burnt lasagna-lookalikes in, you give up, your face red and eyes filled with frustrated tears. casting a quick cleaning spell, you leave the kitchen and head to the living room, expecting to see James there. but the space is empty.

„Jamie?” you shout out, looking around with a frown gracing your soft features, and after a moment of listening in, you hear him cursing somewhere outside.

and so, with your hands on your hips, already sure he’d just fucked something up, you make your way outside to your garden, through the living room backdoor. you’re immediately taken aback when you see daisy petals just laying around on the grass and it takes you a second to realize it’s a path. growing more and more suspicious you follow it, and it leads you to the small pond in the further corner of the backyard. the rocks around the pond are covered with lit up candles, and James is on one knee next to the wooden bench.

„hi, sweetheart.” he murmurs with a smile, holding a small velvet box in his hand, and as you come closer, you can see the tears already prickling in the corners of his eyes. he opens the box swiftly and the ring nestled inside must be the most beautiful rock you have ever seen. „i… i had a whole speech prepared, you know. about- well, you. us. but right now, looking at you, i cannot remember shit of what i wanted to say. the only thing i do know, and i always will, is that i want to look at you for the rest of my life. i want to see you smile, i want to make you laugh, i want to wipe your tears away. every single day. so, Y/N Y/L/N, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

you drop to your knees almost instantly, a sob escaping you as you’re at eye lever with him, and you just nod. you nod, over and over, letting your tears run down your cheeks, knowing that if you speak you’ll break down completely. James knows that too, and he silently slips the ring onto your waiting finger, bringing your hand to his lips and planting a soft kiss on each finger.

„oh, and before you say anything, i call dibs on the wedding date.” he whispers and you chuckle, pushing your lips against his before responding.

„yeah? so what’s the date?” you tilt your head, just staring at him with the stupidest smile on your face, with tear stained cheeks. you two look like idiots, kneeling in the dewed grass, but honestly you don’t care.

„december 18th.” James replies, clearly proud of himself for the mere idea, and his hands cup your face, thumbs brushing the tears away. „the day we met.”

๋࣭ ⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭ pregnancy; winter of 1980

you’re laying on your shared bed, fingers tapping against the huge curvature of your stomach, feeling your baby kick furiously inside you. you’re waiting for James to come home from work, as you’re already on bed rest, only two weeks away from your due date (which is january 31st)

you’ve been bored out of your fucking mind for the last few days, James putting in more hours at work before he has to take paternity leave when the baby comes, and everything in the house being all done and finished. everything babyproofed, nursery set up and ready, every single thing you could own for a newborn, you have. the only thing that’s left for you is resting and looking pretty, as James had said one evening.

your neck practically snaps from how fast you turn your head the moment you hear James apparate outside your house. you groan, quickly moving your hand to massage the back of your neck, and in just a few minutes James is standing in the doorway to your bedroom, a tired but oh so happy smile on his face.

„hi there, mama.” he mutters softly, dropping his suitcase and his wand onto the desk, getting onto the bed right away. he reaches out, tugging your shirt up to expose your big baby bump that’s covered with stretch marks, and leans in, placing kisses all over your belly. „and hi there, lad or gal. i hope you’ve been good to your mom today. daddy had a long day, you know.”

you smile, running your fingers through James’ curls as he rests his chin on your stomach, hands rubbing at your skin there, eyes set on your protruding belly button. you love when he tells you about his day in that way, talking to the baby about it, a habit you both created somewhere in your fifth month of the pregnancy, when you started showing more and more clearly.

„yeah? anything interesting happen today?” you ask quietly, gently playing with his hair, your tired gaze set on his face at all times.

„i won a bet with Sirius, which one of us would catch the most death eaters in an outing.” he hums after a beat, tapping his finger against your stomach, and both of you chuckle when the baby kicks so hard you can see its tiny foot stretch your skin. „yeah, your uncle Padfoot lost a bet. loser. daddy’s the best at what he’s doing, baby Potter.”

„merlin, you’re teaching our baby unhealthy rivalization and it’s not even born yet.” you roll your eyes, tugging at the ends of his hair teasingly, while he bats his eyelashes up at you.

„after all, they’re a Potter.” he murmurs lovingly, looking at your round and puffy from all the baby weight face as if he’s seen an angel, and he swears to himself that he’s falling in love with you over and over again every time he looks at you. „it’s in their genes, sweetheart.”

[literaryavenger]

Obsessed

Summary: Your crush on Bucky may be getting out of control.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: Dramatic Reader. Language. Angst. Fluff. My poor attempts at being Funny.

Word Count: 1.4K I'm physically incapable of making anything short.

A/N: I wrote this in like 2 hours and I don't even know what this is, just... Yeah.

Masterlist

This is terrible.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to you.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to anyone. It's just the most horrible, dreadful, awful thing that could’ve ever happen to yo-

“Would you stop staring at him for fuck's sakes!” Natasha's hissed words make your eyes snap to her and finally away from the metal armed Supersoldier lifting weights. Shirtless.

You don't know when Bucky stopped feeling self-conscious enough to allow him to workout in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, but it has become literal torture for you.

Needless to say, Bucky's current level of undress is making it impossible for you to concentrate on the stretching you're supposed to be doing before your sparring match with Natasha.

But your very thoughtful and not at all exasperated friend makes sure to keep your attention on her during the entirety of our match by thoroughly kicking your ass.

What a lovely best friend you have.

Anyways.

Your entire mood shifts with one not intentionally overheard conversation. Steve enters the gym and goes straight to Bucky, who was putting his weight set down.

“She’s here!” Is all the blonde says to his friend and your heart stops at the way Bucky’s face lights up with a smile, not needing any more information before following Steve out of the gym.

She’s here? Who the fuck is she? Does Bucky have a girlfriend? And most importantly, she’s here? In the Compound?

Natasha can almost see the gears turning in your brain as you make no attempts to move from the mat after she knocked you on your ass for the hundredth time today. You didn’t even seem to notice her hand offering you help to get up, your eyes still looking where Bucky was just a moment ago, staring at nothing in particular while your brain drowns in your overthinking.

Natasha sighs and decides to end the match here, kneeling down in front of you and placing her hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently to snap you out of it.

“Don’t overthink this.” She tells you when she’s sure she has your attention. “It’s probably just a friend visiting.” She tries to comfort you, but you both know that’s highly unlikely. 

Bucky has no other friends outside the team. He doesn’t know how to talk to civilians anymore after everything he’s been through, and gave up trying to after the hundredth time he saw fear in a person’s eyes just by recognizing him. So his friend circle now includes the team and the agents of SHIELD that are not intimidated by him. Point is, every friend he has already lives in the Compound.

So who the fuck is here just to see him? 

Natasha can see that this is a lost battle, your eyes barely concentrating on her as you start drowning in your mind again. All she can do when you’re like this is try to distract you and keep you out of your head. So she takes your hand and helps you up, leading the way to the common room to watch one of your beloved romcoms together, because that’s how much she loves you.

Big mistake.

“Y/N! Y/N!” The excited high-pitched voice came just seconds after you set foot in the common room. And that’s about the only warning you got before the excited 5-year-old jumped on you, your reflexes thankfully quick enough to catch her.

“Hi, Maguna!” You say while chuckling as the little girl hugs you. “You seem excited today. Did you get into the sugar cabinet again?”

Morgan giggles at your joke and shakes her hand before taking your face in her little hands and dramatically saying, “No! A princess came to visit uncle Bucky! A real princess.”

You frown, confused at what she’s talking about, before you look around the room and finally notice everyone else in it. Pepper and Tony are on the couch, looking at you lovingly as you interact with their daughter.

You love Morgan, she’s like a little sister. You never miss an opportunity to babysit her and you spend as much time with her as you can. She also loves you, out of all the Avengers you’re her favorite, much to everyone’s dismay. She calls them all ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’, but you’re just Y/N. You’re her big sister, you don’t need a title. Which is why you're the only one other than Tony allowed to call her 'Maguna'.

Then you notice the other people in the room: Steve, Bucky and… Shuri. The fucking Princess of Wakanda, standing in the common room of the Avengers Compound and just smiling at you as you carry Morgan.

You’ve never met Shuri, but you know she played an important part in deprogramming the Winter Soldier out of Bucky, and you’re grateful to her for it. She’s important to Bucky, and you can’t believe you forgot Bucky has Wakandan friends.

You put Morgan down on the ground again and the little girl takes your hand and aggressively steers you towards where Steve, Bucky and Shuri are standing, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of a real life princess.

“Hi, I’m Shuri.” She offers you her hand when you get close enough and you shake it with your free hand while introducing yourself.

There’s a bit of an awkward pause and you’re about to say the first thing that pops into your head when Morgan thankfully saves you by pulling on your hand, making you look at her. She tells you to come close and, chuckling, you kneel beside her so she can whisper conspiratorially in your ear.

“She’s a princess and she’s really pretty, but I still like you better.” She whispers and you can’t help but laugh.

God, you love this little girl.

You smile brightly at her and launch a tickle attack, her adorable giggles filling the room as everyone looks at you two with warm smiles.

Your attention is solely on Morgan, until you unintentionally hear the whispered conversation between Shuri and Bucky.

“So, this is the girl, huh? She’s pretty.” Shuri says and your heart skips a beat. 

You glance at them as discreetly as you can while still tickling Morgan, only to find Bucky looking at someone behind you. You turn around less carefully and see Sharon just entered the room, and she's also looking at Bucky with a smirk. You quickly return your attention to Morgan, but your mind is going a thousand miles a minute.

Of course he’d like someone more like Sharon. She’s pretty, she’s talented, she’s a total badass and she’s not afraid to go after what she wants.

She’s not a mass of anxiety in the shape of a woman that overthinks everything and becomes a flustered mess every time she’s even near Bucky.

It’s time to admit it to yourself: Bucky just doesn’t see you like that and you need to move on. 

Natasha is right, your obsession with Bucky needs to end.

What you don’t see is Bucky almost glaring at Sharon because he knows damn well why she’s smirking. She came in just before Shuri whispered to Bucky, when he was very intent on looking at you with heart eyes as you played with Morgan.

Just before you looked at him, Bucky noticed Sharon and he had to hold in a groan at her because he knows that she’s never gonna let him live this down.

Both Sharon and Steve have tried really hard to convince Bucky that you like him back and he should make a move on you. But Bucky, being as stubborn as they come, never believes them.

He obviously makes you uncomfortable, you’re always stuttering when he’s around and you avoid eye contact whenever possible. He’s just glad that you can stand his presence enough for the two of you to work together when necessary and to hang out with the rest of the team without problems.

So he just enjoys looking at you from a distance. He loves watching you play with Morgan and his thoughts always run wild with images of you playing like that with kids that are yours and his.

But he knows that’s never going to happen. Why would you like a damaged, PTSD ridden soldier that can’t even make it through the night without waking up from a nightmare? No, that’s definitely not your type.

Bucky accepts the truth: He doesn’t deserve you and you don’t see him like that anyways. 

It doesn’t matter that Sam thinks he’s obsessed, that won’t stop him from looking at you whenever he’s lucky enough to get a glimpse of his little ray of sunshine.

Requested taglist: @vicmc624 @matchat3a @nerd-without-a-cause @sapphirebarnes @cjand10 @mostlymarvelgirl @julvrs @blackhawkfanatic @lillianacristina @armystay89 @imdoingbetternow @spookyparadisesheep @elizalexwil @aceofhearts25 @dontworryboutitsweetheartxx-blog @justab-eautifulmess @buggy14 @thedonswife13

[crescenthistory]

hey how are youu? I’m new here and I’m completely in love with your work especially with the Barty’s ones! I wanted to request the prompt c 11 (you are okay) with the 4 (near death experience) and if you could make it like part of the series of where they bicker all the time it would be perfect! Anyways I really enjoy your writing and I love how you portray my man Barty🤍🫶🏼

hi there lovey! thank you so much for being here and for your sweet words<33 i combined this request with another i received, i hope that is okay

other request: i headcanon barty as a person who has attachment issues (on the ambivalent side), in the way he loves too much his friends and lovers but at the same time is afraid of intimacy bc he also struggles with showing affection in a non sexual way. so my idea is that (gn)reader and barty have an argument because of their insecurities about trust and commitment, but AFTER they've been avoiding the conversation for too long. it could end very much extremely bad or very good.

you can find the other fics for this specific au here and here

Prompts: C.11 "You're okay, you're okay" & 4. Near Death Experience

Words: 6k

Warnings: not proofread, gn!reader (no pronouns used), use of y/n, reader and barty both have mental breakdowns/spirals, attachment issues, miscommunication, "oh shit! love is scary but i do love you so what now" moments, near-fall on the ice, potions accident, choking in a non-sexual way, infirmary, language, talk of death, injured!reader, heavy hurt but heavy comfort, happy ending

this isn't fun anymore

Your relationship with Barty thus far had been interesting to say the least.

After endless bickering led to an impromptu kiss to shut him up in the library, which in turn led to a heavy make-out session in a nearby cot, which led to a “how does it feel to be my girlfriend?” “I wouldn’t know” “do you want to?” “sure” conversation in the Slytherin common room, you somehow wound up being in an established, committed relationship with one Barty Crouch Junior.

To your friends’ flabbergasted shock, and, quite frankly, your own surprise.

Even more surprisingly so, you loved it – which scared you to no end.

As the weeks began to stretch into months, you felt as if you were losing your footing more and more in your dynamic. What was once flirtatious and intense has now become almost intimate and close. It stills you in your movements as you try and find your bearing.

Who are you to Barty when you are not in the mood to quip? Or even talk at all? Who is Barty to you when you allow him to just be Barty and not sparring-partner Junior?

All good questions to ask oneself, but not as productive to spiral over as you walk with him from Hogsmeade, a little stretch behind your boisterous friends.

There are two reasons for this. One is that Barty has somehow learned to read your emotions fairly well despite your inability to communicate them effectively, and he is now scrutinising your distracted facial expressions. Second, and perhaps most importantly, is that it is winter in Scotland.

In your distracting spiral, you step on a snow that covered a perfectly polished sliver of ice, and your foot slips out from underneath you.

You barely managed to squeak out a shriek, scrambling to retract your hand from Barty’s to catch you as you fall, before one of his hands is around your waist and the other on the back of your neck, stabilising your neck. His wild eyes stare into yours, mild panic seeping away to make place for a wicked grin.

“Careful, sweetheart. Falling for me already?”

You roll your eyes before you let out a breath of relief, hands clutching onto his form as he is still holding you up in his grasp.

“You wish, Junior,” you scoff at him, albeit with a smile.

“Every night, on every star.”

You let him place you onto your legs, arm circling around your waist as a remaining layer of protection. You shiver, brushing off imaginary pieces of snow from the fall that did not occur. In front of you, your shared friends had stopped upon hearing you yell.

“Y/N, you good?” Lily called, concern etched onto her face.

At the same time, Sirius, ever the supportive friend, yelled, “Did Barty finally kill you?”

“Oh yes, Big Black, I am incredibly dead,” you yell back as Barty roll his eyes at you both and mutters something about on the contrary.

Regulus, in turn, says something you can’t quite catch over the distance, but you suppose it has something to do with your nickname for Sirius and its insinuations. Little Black did not enjoy being referred to as such.

The group waits up for the two of you to catch up, Barty enjoying taking his time with a lazy stroll.

“You mind picking up the pace, Junior?” Sirius grumbles.

Unfortunately, that only further encourages Barty. “Why would I? Got a pretty damsel in distress on my arm and all the time in the world.” 

You try and rip out of his arms at that, feigning offence at him, but he only holds you tighter. “How dare you. I am neither a damsel nor in distress–”

He cuts you off with a quick peck on your lips. “You are pretty though. Sorry, baby, had to shut the sod up somehow.”

You turn your head away from him with a shake, trying your hardest not to blush at his words or his actions. You bully Regulus too much for his blushing to commit such atrocities yourself. “Whatever you say, Junior, but you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“You don’t even live together,” Remus comments amusedly.

“Doesn’t matter; the sentiment still stands.”

James and Remus shake their heads at the two of you, while Sirius and Lily nod solemnly in support of you. The whole lot begins walking back the short distance to the castle.

Barty makes a comment of some sort to Regulus that both Black brothers and James quip back at, which starts another tireless spat. You are too zoned out to care what they are bickering about today, disappearing back into your thoughts recklessly, despite the dire consequences from last time.

Attachment issues was such a loaded term, you thought, and you didn’t like to think of yourself like that. Yet the fact remained that the longer you and Barty spent together, the more a part of your brain begins dry heaving and screaming. What began as pure fun, tingles along your spine at every back-and-forth, is becoming realer by the minute, and it terrifies you. Not because you cannot stand a relationship or fear being bound down – because you are starting to care for him. Genuinely, wholly, in a way that aches. You have always been one to shy away from emotional aches, and the fact that you now have to decide whether to withstand it or throw it away for another type of pain makes you lightheaded.

With his arm so securely around yours, with his laughter in your ear, you feel right. You feel content and whole. Why should that make sirens go off in your head?

Most of the time you spend with Barty is with others around, where you can’t fully access your emotions. In the Great Hall, if you eat by yourselves, everyone else is still there, when you walk the hallways or the grounds, there are always students and professors around. Even when you visit his dorm, which is becoming more frequent by the second, Evan and Regulus usually aren’t far. You almost wanted to keep it this way, ensure that Barty only sees the fun and open side of you, keeping everything else under lock and key. You almost avoid him when you are able to be alone just the two of you, because the implications are too vast for you to face them.

He has to know. He has to have seen. Have noticed that you keep pushing one front of you towards him and shielding the rest – and it seems like he enjoys that one, but at some point he must want more. Could you give it to him?

“Okay, what’s going on in that head of yours?” Barty’s whisper cuts through your thoughts as you step through the entrances to the castle, once more slightly secluded at the back of the group.

You merely hum in response, trying to pull yourself out of your spiral to look at him.

“C’mon, baby.” His drawl is teasing, but his eyes seem darker than usual. “You have never gone this long without insulting me somehow. What's up?”

“Maybe you’ve just been on your best behaviour today,” you say conspiratorially, putting on your mask expertly. “Haven’t needed to.”

“Now see, that is simply empirically wrong,” Barty guffaws at you. “Did you hear what I said to Reg earlier?” His raised eyebrow is giving you a silent cut the crap that you aren’t ready to face.

“I’ll be honest with you; I did not.” You look away, pulling your jacket further around you. “I’m just mentally preparing for Potions and Slughorn tomorrow, he said we should expect something big.”

“Should I be concerned that lying comes that easily to my girlfriend?” Barty asks, making you whip your head back to him. He is still teasing, but you really, really don’t like the look in his eyes.

“Should I be concerned that my boyfriend can’t take the hint to let something be?” You didn’t think about the words before you let them tumble, instantly getting defensive.

“No,” Barty says, stopping you with the hand on your waist, looking directly at you. “‘Cause I’m just checking on you when something is clearly wrong.”

“Since when do you check on me?” you say, realising your voice is uncomfortably close to a snarl. Barty does, too.

“Since you decided to take me up on my relentless flirting and enter into a relationship with me. You know, the kind where people care for and look after each other? Or is that not us?”

You stare at him for a second, as it uncomfortably settles into your bones that the odd look in his eyes is hurt. Confusion, concern and hurt. You’re at a loss for words.

“I don’t know what to say to that,” you settle on, feeling dumb but stubborn. 

Barty nods, looking away at last, small frown over his lips. “Well. Let me know when you do. Or don’t, you know, it’s whatever.”

He walks away from you, leaving you to stand alone, looking after him. If your friends realised you’re gone, they have likely assumed that the two of you are in some hallway together making-out. No one would come check up on you.

You trek back and sit down, just outside the entrance to the castle, trying to understand what just happened. Sliding down the wall, you watch as new snow begins to fall, large wet chunks flying through the air. You let them symbolically represent your tears as you keep bottling it all up.

That night, you go to your dorm in silence, telling yourself you’re thankful not to see Barty on the way there. You fall asleep watching the door.

Truth is, you had also been stressed out regarding Slughorn’s Potions class for the day after. As you wake and get ready, anxiety rages through your body for more reasons than one. He had been teasing the class for weeks, saying that you would be brewing some dangerous, difficult potion, allowed into the curriculum as a one-time exception for him.

Technically, this would have been no problem, however you are currently paired with McLaggen in Potions. The biggest twat I have ever seen, as Barty described him. While you didn’t have as intense feelings about him, you knew one thing for certain: the boy was absolute shit at potions.

The kind of awful that you really don’t want to be paired with for some exotic and dangerous potion.

Potions was one of the few classes you and Barty had together as your subject selections were relatively different. He would always walk you from your dorm, first class in the morning, soaking up every minute with you. Some of your best banter came from Potions class, often at McLaggen’s expense, for better or worse.

When you opened your door, you were not entirely sure what to expect.

What you found, certainly was not it, though.

“Regulus, what– what are you doing here?”

Regulus looked incredibly sheepish where he stood, weight leaned on one of his hips as one hand scratched the back of his neck. The other held something in it that you couldn’t quite detect as you took the awkward scene of him in.

“I, uh,” he starts, uncharacteristically inarticulate. “Barty said he couldn’t walk you today, but wanted to give you something for, um, your anxiety? About the class? Or something like that. Anyway, here.”

The tips of his ears were burning red at the humiliation of being caught in the middle of whatever this was. He reached out his hand and opened it to reveal a small potions bottle – ironic – with some purple liquid inside.

“What is it?” you asked, taking it tentatively and turning it over in your hands.

“It’s meant to make you calm down and relax– not that I think you need to do that, just, Barty wanted to give it to you.” Regulus winces at his own inelegance. “I got some from James the other week, he apparently has a bunch stacked up in his dorm with the boys, for God knows what reason. Barty asked for one for you. So, here we are.”

“I don’t really know what to say,” you trail off, looking between the potion and Regulus. “Thanks?” 

“I, uh, will tell him that then–”

“Gods, no,” you cut him off. “Don’t tell him that, he wouldn’t appreciate it.” 

As you seem to be thinking over a response, Regulus adds: “If it makes a difference, he said something to me about giving it to you on the off-chance that he was wrong and a massive wanker.”

You chuckle at that. “Well, he’s always a massive wanker,” you joke on reflex. “But you don’t need to act as an owl, Reg, I’ll thank him myself. And thank you for the potion.”

Regulus seems to let out a breath of relief at that, smiling a bit more comfortably at last. “Great, well, I’ll see you around I guess.”

You smile curtly and give him a quick nod before seeing him all but run off. 

Once he’s gone, you drink the potion and the effects are instantaneous. Your shoulders seem to loosen in places you didn’t know they were wound up, your breathing regulates and your heartbeat slows. A little too late, you mull over that this was James’s potion, and you probably should have been careful, given his track record in class. Nevertheless, the potion seems legitimate. 

With a bit more breath in your lungs, you walk off to class, alone.

Barty could not make up his mind on whether to drag his gaze away from you when it instantly gravitated towards you, or if he could let it linger.

The feelings warring in his chest felt impossible to map out. On the one hand, you had snapped at him when he tried to help, which was shitty – on the other, he still didn’t know what he was trying to help with or what compelled you to snap at him. What you were going through. Which honestly is on you, he thought, wincing at his own frustrations.

He was not one to dwell on small spats, but this was entirely unfamiliar territory to him. Barty didn’t do relationships, at least he didn’t think so before you came in like a freight train consuming his being. It was fun to finally have someone properly challenge him and do so with a beautiful smile on their face – the perfect situation for him. It was fun, until his heart began to hurt when you weren’t near, until it was your laugh that ran through his head, guiding him away from a spiral. Until he realised he was not just down bad for you as Dorcas teased, he was something much, much worse.

And he had no idea how to handle it.

His infatuation with you was all-encompassing, a burning passion and loyalty that characterised having Barty’s affection. He knew it, as did all his friends, but when it is with you, he doesn’t know how to handle it. With a friend, he could snog, even shag, them at a random party and it wouldn’t matter for either of them. With you, that first kiss, first anything, was so much more important. With a friend, if he pissed them off enough, they would just cool off without him for a while and then the slate was clear. With you – he had no idea what he would do if you disappeared. Would you come back? He was acutely aware that this was a dynamic he didn’t know how to explore.

Now, it seemed like you needed his support, but wouldn’t accept it. Didn’t want him near it.

He had to respect that, he thought to himself. So, he did his best to tear his gaze away and leave you be.

With the amount of times your eyes met, he knew he wasn’t being successful. He paid no mind to the fact that you did not avert your eyes, either. 

His feet were tapping relentlessly on the ground, his eyes flicking all over the Potions classroom to keep them from you. Barty was losing his fucking mind and he had no idea what to do about it.

“Mate,” Evan cuts off his distracted mental monologue that Barty himself couldn’t really make sense of. “Would you bloody cut it off? I’m trying to not kill us here.”

Barty does not dignify him with a response, but tries to calm his skittishness, albeit not overly successfully. He zeroes in on Slughorn and his peculiar facial expressions as he, a bit too excitedly for 8 in the morning, continues his explanation.

Something about a healing potion that is so particular that if brewed even slightly wrong, it becomes one of the most effective poisons in the world. Something about corrosive to the touch. Something about bezoars healing.

Barty settles his gaze on the bowl of bezoars Slughorn had on his desk, just in case, with a bad feeling in his stomach. He wondered if you felt the same.

As the pairs set to attempt the feat of making the potion correctly, Barty’s eyes drifted back to you, happy to leave the work to Evan – who in turn was happy to work in the silence without his constant chatter.

Your shoulders were relaxed, though your brows were furrowed together as you reread the instructions for the thousandth time. He wondered if you had taken the potion he sent to you with Regulus, he wondered if it helped you. While he knew in his bones you were lying about it being what bothered you, he still could never be too sure. He wanted you to feel safe, whichever way he could ensure it.

He knows what that’s called, which is why he is freaking out so to speak. 

You kept shooting dirty looks at McLaggen whenever he tried to help, keeping him at arm’s length from the potion, fueling the boy’s frustrations. Barty was quite certain he had seen you threaten him with your wand at one point when he tried to stir the potion. He couldn’t blame you.

McLaggen, as incompetent as ever, was trying to make himself useful by reading the instructions aloud to you, though his exaggerated enunciation was more distracting than helpful. Barty withholds a snicker as he can tell you are silently begging him to shut up. The frustration on your face was palpable, the tension between you and your partner practically humming in the air. McLaggen, ever oblivious, didn’t take the hint.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to–?”

“I’m sure,” you snapped, not looking up from the cauldron.

From across the room, you felt Barty’s eyes on you again. His gaze had become a constant presence, burning into your skin. Even when you weren't looking at him, you could feel him there, lingering, watching, waiting. It was maddening, but also strangely comforting. You knew you had to talk together soon, but you still had no idea how to communicate your feelings, if you even dared to.

You had to snap yourself back into it to remain in control of your little situation at hand.

McLaggen, frustrated by being sidelined, huffed and crossed his arms. “It’s just stirring! How hard could it be?”

“Apparently, harder than you think,” you muttered, casting him a side-eye. The potion was already starting to smell off, and you knew he had messed it up.

McLaggen’s face flushed in embarrassment, and before you could stop him, he reached for the ladle, his ego clearly bruised.

"I'll show you–"

“Wait–”

It happened in a blur. His hand snuck past yours, clumsy and wild. It knocked against the cauldron’s edge, sending it tipping over. The thick, boiling liquid surged out, splashing across the table – and onto your leg.

The pain was instant, white-hot and searing, like your skin was being eaten alive. You screamed, recoiling as the potion sizzled straight through your pant leg, immediately finding flesh.

The room seemed to freeze for a moment, everyone turning to see what had happened. The smell of burning skin filled the air as you stumbled back, falling over your increasingly immobile leg, eyes wide with shock and pain.

The world around disappeared from you as you were consumed by the burning, not even able to hear your gasps of pain.

For that moment, no one did anything.

No one but Barty – Barty moved.

Without hesitation, without thought, he lunged across the room. He grabbed the entire bowl of bezoars, eyes never leaving you. His body collided with McLaggen, shoving him aside with a force that sent the boy slamming into the wall behind, just barely avoiding the poison himself. Barty didn’t even glance at him; his focus was solely on you.

Somewhere in the back Slughorn made a sound of shock and disappointment that Barty blocked out.

He dropped down beside you, taking your shaking upper body in his arms. "You're okay, you're okay," he muttered in your ear, as he cradled your jaw with one hand and opened your mouth with another. With two quick, precise fingers he shoved the bezoar as far down your throat as he could, arm circled securely around your waist for when your body convulsed in response to the intrusion. "You're okay, I've got you," he continued to mumble, as if to himself this time, as he looked at you frantically.

Your body's trembling and your small gasps of pain faded, but your leg was still searing painfully and you still looked completely out of it.

Barty’s heart lurched – he had never seen you like this. Never seen you so vulnerable, so hurt.

“Barty–” you gasped, your voice breaking in panic.

The classroom had erupted into chaos around you – students scrambling away from the spill, Slughorn’s booming voice calling for calm. In it all, Barty's eyes kept looking you over, almost like he was itching to give you another bezoar just in case.

“You’re okay,” he repeated, quieter this time, his voice cracking ever so slightly.

Your breath came out in ragged gasps, the pain subsiding slowly. Barty's hands remained around you, grounding you essentially in his lap, keeping you tethered to the moment.

“Someone fetch Madam Pomfrey!” Slughorn’s booming voice cut through the heavy air as he rushed over, his face pale with panic. “Quickly now! That potion– oh dear–"

McLaggen stood behind him, mouth agape in shock and horror as almost all other students had lined up by the walls, putting distance between themselves and the potion. Everyone except Evan, who remained by his desk, grip tight on the wood as he looked in horror and concern.

Barty ignored him. He ignored everyone. His only focus was you – your shallow breathing, your wide, panicked eyes. He didn’t even realise that his hands were shaking until you whimpered softly, and he felt his control slipping further.

“I’m taking her to the infirmary,” Barty said through gritted teeth, not waiting for permission.

Barty scooped you into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he stood. The weight of you felt so fragile, so wrong. You were supposed to be strong, biting back with sharp quips and rolling your eyes at his antics. Not this. Not in pain and trembling in his arms.

“Now, now, I’m sure Madam Pomfrey can come here–”

“No,” Barty said, his voice dark and dangerous, leaving no room for argument. “I’m taking her.”

“Mr. Crouch– wait! We should–” Slughorn tried again, but Barty was already moving, carrying you through the rows of desks and out the door.

His steps were quick but measured, and you were too disoriented by the pain and the shock to protest. Your head rested against his chest, the steady beat of his heart the only thing anchoring you to reality.

“Hang on, my love,” he murmured, his voice rough and shaky. “I’ve got you. You’re gonna be alright.”

You weren’t sure when you closed your eyes, but by the time you tried to open them again, you were in the infirmary.

Your mind was swimming through a haze of pain and exhaustion. The world felt heavy around you, like you were dragging yourself up through thick water. At first, you weren’t sure where you were – the sterile smell of potions and the soft rustling of sheets felt foreign, disconnected.

Then you shifted ever so slightly and the sharp sting in your leg brought it all crashing back.

The classroom. The potion. McLaggen’s bloody idiocy. The burning, searing pain as the liquid had spilled across your skin.

Barty.

Barty was sitting at your bedside, his usual composed demeanour shattered. His shoulders were hunched, his face tight with worry, and there was a wildness in his eyes that you had never seen before. The sight of him like that sent a pang of emotion through you, more potent than the lingering sting of the potion burn.

You swallowed thickly, your throat dry. “Barty…” Your voice came out in a cracked whisper.

His head jerked up, his eyes locking onto yours in an instant. For a second, the relief that washed over his face was so overwhelming that it almost broke you. He moved closer, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached out for your hand, stopping just before touching you, as if he wasn’t sure if he should. If he could.

“You’re awake,” he breathed, his voice rough with emotion. His eyes scanned your face, searching for any sign of how you were feeling. “Are you… does it hurt? Are you in pain?”

You blinked up at him, your mind still foggy as the events of the day came rushing back in fragments. You remembered the burning pain, the panic that had clawed at your chest, and – Barty. Barty holding you, his voice in your ear, telling you that you’d be okay.

And now here he was, sitting beside you, his fingers twitching with the urge to touch you but holding back as if afraid he might break you further.

"I–" you tried, but your voice cut off, throat hoarse from the bezoar you were increasingly remembering. "I think I'm fine."

Barty just looked at you, still searching, clearly unsatisfied with your answer. What an unfortunate theme for the week.

“It’s… it’s not as bad now,” you managed, your voice hoarse. The burning in your arm was still there, a dull throb beneath the bandages, but it was nothing compared to the ache in your chest. “What happened? After… I don’t know if I really remember…”

Barty swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he fought to maintain his composure. “Pomfrey patched you up. You passed out from the pain.” He paused, his voice thickening. “It was bad. You could’ve–”

He cut himself off, his fingers curling into fists as he looked away, his throat working visibly. “It was a close call.”

At his words, you realise how hard you were fighting the tears, the bottle you keep your emotions in clearly shattered by your impact with the floor.

"I'm alright," you whispered, to which he just nodded, beautiful face stained by a frown. Yeah, yeah, you thought you could hear him mutter.

"Barty?" you called softly, hoping for his attentive eyes to be back on you – they were in an instant. "Thank you."

"I would do anything for you," he whispered. "I just need you to be alright. I'm so sorry."

"For what?" Your eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion. "You did nothing wrong Barty. You– you did so good."

Barty leans his head on his fists curled up on your bedside. He was still slightly trembling. "I thought I lost you."

His words hit you like a physical blow. You could hear the desperation in his voice, the crack in his usually cool exterior, and it made your chest tighten with emotion. He wasn’t just worried – he had been terrified. You could see it in the way he refused to meet your eyes now, as if he was still trying to gather himself, still fighting the lingering fear.

Your heart twisted painfully at the sight of him like this, so undone, so vulnerable. It was strange when he was always the one so sure of himself, always the one in control. His usual composed mask had crumbled, leaving raw emotion exposed underneath. You wanted to kiss it better. You wanted to see more.

It was strange, you thought, lying there in the infirmary with a dull ache all throughout your body. Strange how, in moments like these, everything else – the fear, the confusion, the uncertainty – seemed to fall away. All that was left was Barty, his presence consuming every inch of your awareness.

"Barty..." you whispered again. When he looked up at you, his eyes were red-rimmed.

You simply turned your hand laying near his over. An open invitation.

He accepted it immediately, intertwining his fingers with yours and kissing the back of your hand so sweetly it hurt you.

"I thought–" you start, voice breaking from emotion this time. "When it happened, all I could think about was you. How sweet you are with me even when I'm terrible, how stupid it is to let my emotions get in the way of that. I didn't even get to say sorry to you and–" You take a deep breath. "I wanted to. I'm sorry, Barty."

He was shaking his head, cheek against your hand he was holding as it looked at you intensely. "Absolutely not. Apology accepted and then rejected. I don't want you to be sorry."

You try to interject, but he sits up, leaning on his elbow onto your bedside so you are at eye-level. "Nuh-uh. I won't allow it. Thank you, and I'm sorry too, but no."

"Will you at least accept the sentiment that I never meant to hurt you?" you whisper through a tired smile.

"Of course. I hurt myself. I was confused and scared and– shit, this feeling thing is so bloody hard for no reason." You laugh slightly at that, wincing when it pains you. "I hated feeling like we weren't a team."

"Me too," you whispered, not trusting your voice. "I didn't want to fight, I just find it so difficult to trust. That I can, I don't know, show you everything and not run. Because I don't know what to do with myself if you do."

Barty's grip on your hand tightened. "I won't. I swear to you, I won't. That's what scares the shit out of me. How ridiculously much I care about you. What am I to do with that?"

A few tears spilled down your cheeks before you could stop it. His hand instinctively shot forward to wipe them away, frown deepening.

"Can we be scared and confused together?" you asked weakly.

For the first time since you woke up, you saw a smile grace Barty's face, clouded only slightly by his teary eyes. "I reckon we can, love. I– I just need you."

You closed your eyes, triggering the release of a few more tears.

"You'll never lose me," Barty continued, pressing his forehead back against your intertwined hands. "I swear. I don't care what fight we have or how unsure we are. You're the only person who–" He stopped, his breathing hitching as if the words were too heavy on his vocal chords. "I need you."

Your heart clenched painfully at the raw emotion in his voice. The cool, confident Barty you were used to wasn’t here right now. This was a Barty who was terrified and loving, who was stripped bare of all the usual bravado and snark. It made your chest ache in a way that was so full of feeling that it was almost overwhelming.

“I need you too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He lifted his head slowly, his eyes locking onto yours again. There was something so vulnerable, so intense in his gaze that it nearly stole your breath away. He leaned forward then, hesitating only for a moment before his lips brushed gently against your forehead, lingering there as if he was grounding himself in the feel of you, the reality that you were still here.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured against your skin. “I promise.”

For a moment, the weight of those words hung in the air, settling into the space between you. And despite the pain, despite everything that had happened, you felt a small flicker of warmth spark in your chest.

You brought your free hand up to the nape of his neck, guiding his lips from your forehead to your own, kissing him as softly as you could muster. His kiss was careful as he tried to pour as much emotion as possible. All the things you could not say yet, but cared for each other in spite of.

When you parted, you rested your foreheads together and you let out a shaky breath, your heart slowing as the adrenaline finally began to fade.

You opened your eyes to find Barty already looking at you with a slight smile – the look in his eyes was positively lovesick.

With the ease Barty's touch awarded you, you let out a half-choked laugh, relief expanding in your chest, which in turn widened his smile.

"What's so funny?" he asked, a teasing tone finally making it back into his voice.

"I'm just thinking about how ridiculous we are," you laughed, squeezing his hand. "And dramatic, Merlin's beard."

Barty huffed a laugh in return, shaking his head at you. "You knew what you were signing up for when you got with me. Theatrical is my middle name."

"Oh, so you admit it now, do you?"

"Only for you."

You gaze into his eyes and you realise – Barty is not the only one who is lovesick.

"Tell me now," you said, teasing tone finally back in your voice. It made Barty's heart soar, but not as much as your next sentence. "How did you trick me into falling in love with you, Junior?"

"I trick you? Love, I've been heads over heels for you since the first time you insulted me. You're the one who should fess up."

Barty's grin threatened to tear his skin apart as he shook his head.

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely.” He shifted closer, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tenderness that made your heart stutter. “You’re impossible not to fall for.”

“Good,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Because I think you're stuck with me now.”

Barty leaned down, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead, and when he pulled back, his eyes were alight with something that looked an awful lot like hope.

“Stuck, huh?”

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t get cocky, Junior.”

“Too late, sweetheart.”

“In that case," you started, trailing off as if you grew uncertain of yourself once more. Barty's hold on you remained steadfast. "Can you stay? Just stay here with me, until I'm dispatched?”

“I’m not leaving,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles in a steady, grounding rhythm. “I’ll stay as long as you want. You've got me.”

You felt yourself relax into the bed, your eyes growing heavy with exhaustion, but for the first time in a long while, the tightness in your chest had eased. As your eyes fluttered closed, you heard Barty’s voice again, soft and filled with so much emotion that it made your heart ache all over again.

“Sleep well, my love."

[x-prettyboy-x]

I LOOOVEEDD DOMESTICATED !! The part about the street cat turning into a fat, spoiled, indoor cat was so good ughh

if you're down, could you do more domestic scenarios? I'm so into fluff rn hdushs maybe erik asking Bobby and Julia for help in baking a cake for you as a birthday surprise (I feel like Julia's gonna be the only functioning adult in this scenario ngl)

Surrounded by Idiots

Bestie, you're my mutual. I'd write the most out of pocket shit if you asked me to, so ofc. I hope this fits your request, once i got the idea for this chaos i couldnt let it go. So sorry it's so short. Sidenote: I 100% looked up an actual fuckin cake recipe for this even though there was absolutely no reason to.

Pairing: Erik Campbell x Reader(Though reader isn't present until the end)

Warnings: none

Contents: Siblings dynamics, Julia being the only one with common sense(until she isnt), Bobby just happy to be included and caught in the crossfire.

Wc; 700

No gendered language used:)

Masterlist

Erik had begged. Yes, begged, for Julia and Bobby to help him out with this cake. He'd tried it by himself first and damn near set the kitchen on fire because he forgot the cake was in the oven- definitely not cause he got wrapped up playing the game- he just has a bad memory.

Bobby was happy to help, Julia not so much. But she agreed eventually, after Erik may or may not have agreed to give her whatever tattoo she wanted for free.

Thats how he ended up in this situation, cake ingredients laid out on the counter in front of them while Julia read a recipe off her phone and Bobby just waited for instructions.

"Okay, Bobby. Grease the pan, Erik preheat the oven to 350." Julia hummed, setting her phone down and grabbing a bowl to start mixing the dry ingredients.

"Remind me again why we couldn't just make a box cake?" Erik rolled his eyes, preheating the oven and leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, "I used a box cake last time."

Julia scoffed, turning to him with a hand on her hip "Yeah? And that worked out so well for you, didnt it? This kitchen still smells like burning cake. We're making it from scratch because your partner deserves better than a box cake for putting up with you everyday."

"Wow, thanks Jules." Erik gave her the most fake smile he could manage, watching her add in the wet ingredients and start to mix it together.

Then he had an idea.

Julia gave him a confused look as he dipped his finger into the bowl, "what the fuck are you-"

Erik just grinned as he smeared the cake batter across her face, quickly taking a step back after and licking the excess from his finger "Oops. Gotta say, Jules, browns a good color on you."

Julia took a deep breath to calm herself, turning back to the bowl and carefully pouring it into the pan Bobby had greased. Erik knew better though, there's no way she was gonna let that go. So, he kept his distance while he watched her calmly poor the batter into the pan, and put it into the oven. Erik tilted his head ever so slightly as she walked over to him. By the time he noticed the grin on her face it was too late.

Julia grabbed an egg from the open carton on the counter and smashed it over his head before he had time to react, some of it hitting Bobby in the process. "Oops. Too bad yellow doesn't suit you."

"Oh, its on bitch." Erik scoffed, and within seconds the kitchen was a war zone. Flour and Eggs being thrown, laughs and random swears filling the otherwise quiet room, Erik and Bobby ducked behind a counter like they were dodging bullets.

All 3 of them froze as the front door opened, all of them just praying it was anyone but mom.

You stepped inside and slipped off your shoes, setting your keys down and freezing as you turned to witness the disaster that was once the kitchen.

"What the hell?"

Erik glanced at Bobby and Julia, and within seconds the 3 were on the same page as they slowed walked towards you.

You quickly picked up on what they were doing as you slowly backed away with a small nervous laugh, "Hey, no. It's my birthday. You guys cant do this shit to me on my birthday."

Erik got to you first, wiping cake batter across your face as he kissed you gently, "Happy birthday, baby."

Bobby was way too excited as he tossed a handful of flour at you, Julia quickly following after to smash an egg over your head, the both of them shouting a quick "Happy birthday!"

Let's just say Brenda wasnt at all happy when she came home to her kitchen an absolute mess of cake ingredients, the 4 of you having a food fight and laughing like children.

But once you all had cleaned up the kitchen, you had to admit, the cake wasnt bad. The cake aside, you couldn't be happier with the family you'd one day marry into.

[kabuki-writes]

Twin Suns

chapter: 8 chapter 1 | 2 | 3| 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader

summary: With you being the wife of his brother now and therefore a part of the royal court, it gets increasingly harder for Emperor Caracalla to not seek your company. Noticing his interest in you, Emperor Geta sets up a twisted game to benefit from his twin's desires.

warning(s): MDNI | implied smut warning | partially non consent | Geta being Geta and Caracalla being Caracalla | semi-edited | english is not my first language, faults may occur | please let me know if i missed anything

Note: I know, i know! It took me quite some time to get this chapter ready for you. Writer blocks are sadly a thing and i am not immune to that ughhhh! But this series will continue, even though it might take longer than i initially expected it to be. Also there are some new projects i'd like to work on, but they'll probably going to be one-shots. Stay tuned and thank you for your patience <3!

word count: 3.1k

Rome felt different during the summer days. It barely rained and the bright sun turned the city into a melting pot. The heat could become a torture, at least for the common citizens, who had to live and work in the dense streets of the Aventin or the other districts outside the Palatin hill. In the previous decades, fires caused by drought and bad luck were a common problem, especially in the districts of the poor. It was nothing that was new but it only added to the pile of other injustices, which grab around like a plague, being it hunger or the slow decay of any morals that were once held so high by the Roman elite.

The upper classes themselves however had their ways of dealing with those "problems". A lot of them left the city during those hot months as they owned homes in the countryside with the same amount of comfort they enjoyed in the capital. One of the most lavish and gigantic depictions of such a summer residence was the palace of the Emperors in Anzio, directly built at the coastline and a few miles south of Rome. This place was almost like a small city in itself, a symbol of Emperor Geta's and Caracalla's wealth, even though it was actually their father, who restored the old palace that once belonged to Emperor Nero. Emperor Septimius Severus modernized the old walls and equipped the residence to be a retreat for his family. Just as their palace in Rome, their summer residence had everything Caracalla and Geta expected in their roles as the most powerful men in the world. An army of servants rushed around to cook and clean up, take care of the garden, or simply do whatever was needed. Additionally, as always, the Emperors had their entourage of concubines with them, who stayed with the other servants and slaves in another part of the palace - ready to be called whenever they were needed.

Over the last passing weeks after your wedding with Emperor Geta, you'd tried your best to get used to all of this - to the luxury and the way all eyes were always set on you, ready to watch every damn move you did. You rarely got any moment for yourself, since it was expected from you to stick at Geta's side, smile and be at his service every second of the day. And he had used this situation over and over again. Your husband would say that this was just the way he offered you his love, but the reality was that he was a very lustful and demanding man. One that searched for your approval so desperately through all the touches, kisses and pleasures he viewed as a gift, but you only took them to preserve your pride behind a carefully crafted mask of adaption. You despised the lavish parties, the concubines, the twisted game everyone of the royal court seemed to play, so that they wouldn't end up crucified the next morning. And you knew so well, that just like your father, you were fighting to save your family too - not on the battlefield, but in the front of the Emperor and in his bed.

Letters from General Acacius were a rarity, when he was off on a campaign at the end of the Roman Empire. A messenger needed weeks, often over a month until he was able to deliver to the right person. Holding the papyrus paper in your hands felt like holding a godly present, when you read the written words that were only meant for you over and over again. Beginning with "My dearest, my beloved daughter", Acacius told her about the exhausting travel, the situation of his legions as well as his own, about the siege of Numidia - the last free city of Africa Nova and more. In his letter it was an upcoming and unavoidable happening, but given all the time between writing and delivering, the battle might've been over already.

Although it was a personal letter adressed to the Empress, given that he didn't know if anyone else would lay their eyes on it, Acacius deliberately left out the any critique about the Emperor's decisions to continue Rome's expansions. But you knew your father well enough to read between the lines of his text, which gave you a glimpse about how tired he was about this war and how much it caused pain in him to kill and enslave under the banner of a reign he saw as nothing but a tyranny. You were lost in between his words and the smell of the sea mixed with the one of the papyrus in your hand, when a little squeak caught your ears and pulled you out of your thoughts. Another soft screech and you looked into the buttoned eyes of Dondus, the small pet monkey of Emperor Caracalla, who sat in his tiny tunic on the table next to you.

"I knew i'd find you here!" You didn't even need to turn your head around, to know which of the twins suddenly approached you as you were still sitting on a bench in the Palace gardens, protected by the shdaows of the trees around, but with the beautiful view of the sea right in front of you. Still you followed the etiquette and stood up to greet your brother-in-law with a bow of your head. "My Emperor,..."

"Caracalla", he corrected you, before you could even speak further. "You're part of the family now, there's no need to make it complicate, right?"

The fact that you were his brother's wife still bothered him from the very first day on. A mere thought about his brother's possession of your heart could kick off a tantrum of Caracalla at any given time, especially when he was alone in his rooms and had to face all the thoughts what Geta probably did to you, when he had you in his presence. And it was rare, very rare to get a moment with you alone, one in which you were not with Emperor Geta or accompanied by his personal guard. Those that Caracalla was the only one able to send away since the Praetorians had to follow his orders in the same way they did with his brother's. They were twin Emperors all along. And although Geta took more of the leading responsibilities, they shared the power equally at the end of the day.

You nodded in response to his offering, even if it was still an unusual practice - you weren't this close with him. Actually you thought that he had tried to avoid you for quite some time, after your wedding with his brother, which made his sudden approach even more dubious. Nonetheless you put on the mask of a dutiful Roman woman, graceful and without any falter, as your mouth curled into a smile and your hand started to crawl the head of Caracalla's pet monkey, who suddenly jumped onto your lap. "So you and Dondus have found me. Is there something i can help you with or do you just seek the company of your sister-in-law?" Caracalla's jaw clenched, even if his eyes remained open in a stare and his lips still frozen with a smile. "Maybe both", he whispered, before his hand suddenly grabbed yours, a soft gesture, a caring one combined with his following words, but you knew very well it was inappropriate.

"I know that we haven't seen each other for quite some time now and as you know Geta and i are twins - so i know my brother better than anyone. Which is, why i am more than curious to know how you're feeling now that you're his wife? Given the ... circumstances of your marriage, it was probably difficult to adjust to the court life and the duties of an Empress, with your honorable father fighting for Rome's glory somewhere in Africa Nova." His jaw clenched, when he mentioned the man he saw as nothing more than a traitor and you were well aware of that, which was why you hid your anger behind a well-crafted but forced smile.

„I know what is expected of me. And I do my duty for Rome just as my father.“

"That was not my question", Caracalla quickly shot back with an unbothered grin on his lips, while he was slowly leaning closer to you. Your eyes didn't left him as you watched intensely what he did, while you could already feel his breath on your skin. There was a danger radiating from him, a twisted combination out of friendly words and ulterior motives you weren't able to grasp. An inappropriate chuckle escaped his lips out of a sudden, as if he had done enough to hide it. "Is he not capable to satisfy his Empress?"

Your eyes widened and your lips parted, trying to say something, but no words came from them, shocked by the misguided question. Why, by the gods, did he ask such a thing!? Slowly, you gathered your thoughts again, as you tried your best to not show any emotions that would give off how uneasy you felt. But it didn't help that his hand crept further, as he reached out with his fingertips to trace the exposed skin of your arm. A gesture that caused a shiver running down you spine. It was as if he suddenly felt a sense of boldness, knowing that both of you were alone – even though you were not.

"I don't think that you would like me to tell you how your dear brother takes his pleasure from his wife". The words came from your lips like a confession, while you slowly gained conciousness about his goal. "Isn't it so? When we were at the amphitheater back then, you told me that you see yourself as Nero... and on my weddingday, you presented me the crown of Empress Poppaea. It is ironic, don't you think? That we sit here in the same gardens, those two probably enjoyed themselves too?", you said without a tone-shift in your voice, before you whispered, as if you were telling him a secret. "But i don't belong to you."

Something in Caracalla's eyes shifted, while you spoke, a dark glimpse of something that was buried deep inside him. The way his fingers suddenly snaked around your wrist and pressed themselves into your skin, while his lips shuddere, gave away that it triggered him. Even though it was simply the truth, but you wanted to hear what was going on in his mind. And how to get answers better than by teasing Caracalla in a way his lips would instantly react faster than his brain.

"Soon, i promise!", his voice a muddled with promise, plea and anger. "My brother doesn't deserve to have you", he hissed in a low tone, while his face was close to yours as if he was just a short distance away from simply kissing your lips. It took you a lot to not slip from his grip to escape this madness. Geta was cruel, but Caracalla was insane and you were trapped with their tantrums from the second they'd layed their eyes on you. "He never deserved you, not you, not the Empire, all of this. I do. I do. Don't tell me that you've never thought about it, i know that you do-"

"We shouldn't-"

"Don't deny it! We both know that it is fate that brought us together – that brought us here. It is just another sign that we're here together, like Nero and his love." His voice became louder and almost cracked in his anticipation, while his grip on your wrist was so tight, it started to hurt you. But it didn't seem like he would let go either. You were helpless in a situation like this as every word you said, seemed to make it even worse as he just heard what he wanted to hear. Caracalla was in his own reality, his own world, and you were his Venus, his goddess, the pinnacle of his unrestrained desire.

"Caracalla, please. My Emperor, you need to calm down", you tried it with a soft tone shift, your free hand slowly reaching for his scarred pale cheek. The scars testaments of his mental state as he scratched himself, whenever he had a nervous outburst. If he would voice this nonesense even louder, it might alert someone and you knew that it might get yourself in danger too. The Emperors were untouchable, but you...? Geta were able to punish you, if he would hear this conversation – even though you didn't even wished for the attention of his brother, it wouldn't matter.

Your voice, your touch, whatever it was, it shifted Caracalla's mood. He calmed down like a puppy, who melted under the way your filigran fingers ran over his cheek. His cold-blue eyes still stared at you, but it was almost as if he feared he said something wrong. It was the very first time you experienced firsthand how much power you actually hold over a man, who could easily order your murder. The young Emperor leaned into your touch and suddenly nodded softly. "I- i am sorry, i didn't...– i didn't want to scream at you. It was just- no, there is no excuse, please, you need to forgive me–"

You took your time with him even though there were so many thoughts echoing in your mind, how you were trapped in a seemingly never ending tragedy with no way out. However with Caracalla, you might get a chance to play your own little game... so you used this opportunity. "I already did, no need to worry, Caracalla", you whispered in an encouraging tone, taking away all his fears with just a few words. "But you should go now, Dondus seems to need some rest. And we will meet again for dinner, right?"

Indeed, Dondus, Caracalla's little pet monkey, had already laid down on the table, resting in the shadows of the olive trees. A sad shimmer appeared on Caracalla's face, when he got up. But he didn't leave you without. taking your hand for a moment and placing a kiss on your knuckles. He didn't said a word after this, while he simply took Dondus up his arms and walked off. Silence, it was even stronger than any word now, while your eyes went to your wrists, where he had grabbed you out of desperation. He was pathetic, insane – yet he could become a tool to find a way out of here. Maybe you became to ambitious in this very moment.

----

"Did you enjoy the moment with my wife", Geta's voice hit Caracalla like a dagger in the chest as he walked down the aisle, which lead from the gardens back to the palace rooms. He stopped instantly and turned his head around only to see his twin standing there in his lavish robes and the golden laurel wreath on his short gingerblonde hair. For a second, Caracalla almost favored the thought of simply leaving by ignoring those provocative words. But the accusation between the lines, grabbed his mind and basically forced a reaction from him.

"I just talked with her. Am i not allowed to do this, brother? She seemed lonely."

"Ah yeah, lonely?" Geta simply recalled Caracalla's words, while he did a few steps into his direction, stopping right in front of him as his face turned moe and more red. Not because of embarrassment, it was clear that his twin hated to be mocked like this, although the tease was not completely without a reason.

"And you really didn't thought about anything else as you were just accompaning my 'lonely' wife? Don't fool me, brother, i know you since we've shared our mother's womb."

"Is this an accusation?", Caracalla hissed, his fists clenching together. Even Dondus on his shoulder sensed the emotions that cooked up in his owner, screatching in response. What was Geta playing here?

"An offering."

An offering? Caracalla's eyes stared at Geta for a long minute, visibly trying to make sense of his words. It sounded like a test, like a tease, but nothing in his twin's face changed, while he looked at him with a smile that was too genuine for a moment like this.

"You wouldn't like to fuck her, don't you?"

"Stop playing with me!? Why are you doing this!? What should all of that mean!?", Caracalla complained almost like a child, who was bullied by an older kid.

Geta suddenly sighed – as if he was even annoyed by the way his brother reacted to him and this only fueled Caracalla's anger even more. His hand ran through his gingerblonde hair, while his sky-blue eyes were still locked with his smaller twin, since Geta towered him in height. Slowly, he leaned towards Caracalla's ear and finally revealed, what he was thinking in more clearer words. And they revealed a twisted idea that had grew in his mind from the very first moment he'd seen his brother's interest in you.

"If you would like to get a taste of my wife, i will allow it. I couldn't deny my dearest brother a wish like this, because i understand how easily she put a spell on you like a siren. But–" he paused intentionally to give his words even more weight as he spoke out the condition for such a 'trade'. "Since she is my wife, i want to watch what you're doing with her." Caracalla's eyes widened more and more in response to his offering. An internal fight enrupted in him between the hunger that already burned for you and the shame he would feel to put you in a situation like that.

Whoever thought that Caracalla was the only lunatic of the twin emperors had never seen what Geta was really capable of. He just usually did induldge in his 'fun' behind closed doors. Even before he even met you, Geta enjoyed the brutality of the arena fights just as he enjoyed the wild orgies hosted in the Emperor's palace. It were those orgies with tons of whores and slaves, where he not only developed a love for dominating others, but he also formed a voyeristic lust. Seeing others exposing themselves in front of him and losing themselves in the heat of the act was like a painting for his eyes. He shared a lot with his brother, even their concubines – so why shouldn't he share you as well? As long as you were officially his, bound to him and only him in front of the gods, that was the only thing he needed.

"So... what do you say, Caracalla?"

____________________________

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[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage

First part for a short m!troll x f!reader series

(Edit: this did not end up being short)

1.4k words

As the daughter of a high ranking naval officer an arranged marriage was something you had expected your whole life, but being shipped off from your comfortable home in your human kingdom for an arranged marriage to help strengthen the alliance between your kingdom and the neighboring monster kingdom after the war was not what you had in mind.

No smut yet, but it’s coming!

—————-

The only person in the room that looked like they wanted to be there possibly less than you was the man you were supposed to be marrying. He stood tall and well built, long limbed, and broad shoulders, quite the intimidating sight as most trolls were. It also did not help that he stood in full war regalia and was well armed, looking like the horror stories whispered by soldiers returning from the recently ended war between your human kingdom and the neighboring monster kingdom.

Stiff pleasantries were exchanged between your ambassador and the war council, token words about solidifying alliances and other formalities.

This was not how it was supposed to go. You were the eldest daughter of a high ranking naval officer in your kingdom, an arranged marriage was no problem, but it was supposed to be to some newly appointed captain that showed a lot of promise of rising through the ranks. With any luck he’d be deployed a lot, you would have a few kids together, and continue your life of luxury.

The man in front of you was Zen’jan, some sort of war hero and representative of the local troll tribe here on the war council that advised the orcish king. He stood tall, likely close to 8.5ft though still proportioned like a human, if not a bit long limbed. His skin was a rich sort of sapphire tone with bright green eyes and a shaggy mane of dark green hair that was shaved short on the sides. Pointed, upright ears that would put any elf’s to shame stood up tall on the sides of his head. Most noticeable of all were his tusks though, almost like an elephant’s, long and highly adorned. Elaborate designs were carved into them and gold bands wrapped around the base right before they vanished into the sides of his mouth.

Before you had anymore time to dwell on things, suddenly you and Zen’jan were the center of attention. Several troll women were fussing over you and painting symbols on your arms with a sticky, metallic smelling red liquid you tried not to think too much about. The women repeated the same process with Zen’jan before handing him the bowl of liquid.

As he approached you fought the urge to step back away from him, to run back to the ship that brought you here and hide and wait for this nightmare to be over. Instead you stood there, playing the part of the good daughter who was expected to make her family proud and do what was best for her kingdom.

You watched his hand as he dipped a finger into the bowl, only three fingers on his large hand, and reached out towards your face. Slowly he traced a finger down the center of your forehead and nose, leaving a line of what you were still desperately hoping was not blood, and then a dot in your chin before handing you the bowl.

“The same” he told you, his words heavily accented, human common clearly not his first language.

You held your breath and forced down the urge to gag as you dipped your finger in the bowl and repeated marking his face like he had yours.

Words were exchanged in a language you did not speak, Zen’jan nodding solemnly and seemingly answering in agreement until it was you turn. You turned to face the crowd like he did and were given a word to repeat after each question, some sort of “yes” or otherwise agreement probably.

A moment of silence filled the room and hung heavy in the air while you waited for whatever was next. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him move and you flinched as he went to touch you, catching a flash of resignation on his face for just a second. He held still with his hand outreached for a moment before placing it on the back of your head and pressing his forehead to yours, smearing the possible blood on his hand into your hair and the mark on your face.

The chatter resumed, people approached and spoke to him in languages you did not speak and smiled at you politely.

“You will go with Bira” he directed at you, “She will take you home and help you get settled. I will be home later” his tone left no room to argue.

He motioned to a troll woman at the edge of the crowd who happily bounded over and spoke with her for a moment before she excitedly grabbed your hand.

“It’s nice to meet you! Let’s get you home, I’m sure you’re tired” she smiled, her common more fluent than his.

You followed Bira through the city, learning she was Zen’jan’s cousin as she chattered away for the entire walk. Dirt and dust coated your shoes and hem of your skirt as you walked, barely any paved roads in the city it seemed, just hard packed earth.

After what felt like an eternity you arrived at an unassuming wooden door. Back at your family’s manor you would have been greeted by servants, ushered in and doted on, but here you were just greeted by a small, empty home.

The majority of the house seemed to actually be carved into the rock face of the ravine the city was built in, the small wooden structure you saw from the outside was only an entry way. The main room centered around a hearth in the middle of the room, surrounded by stone floors worn smooth by years of traffic. The far side of the room was raised slightly with wooden floors and a large bed generously covered in blankets and furs. A small door along the stone back wall was closed, something to be explored later.

Bira continued chatting, not that you particularly were paying attention to a word she said.

“I’ll be back in a bit with some food, you just rest now” you caught from her as she let herself out.

Sitting on the bed you wanted to cry. This was not the life you were supposed to have. You sniffled and rubbed at your nose, immediately retching as you realized you just rubbed your bloody hand across you face.

Finally you cracked, crying and wailing at the unfairness of the situation. You were far from being the only unwed daughter of someone important in your kingdom, why did it have to be you?

You stormed through the door at the back of the house to find a spacious bathroom, the sink, a large tub, and toilet all carved from the stone itself. A simple mirror hung over the sink and you took the time to survey yourself. The marking on your forehead was smeared, and blood was smudged across your nose. You looked exhausted and disheveled and still felt worse than you looked.

A small victory, at least there was hot water when you turned the tap for the sink. On the ledge of the sink there was a bar of surprisingly nice soap that smelled of herbs and flowers and you quickly washed your face and hands and at made some attempt to rise the back of you head in the sink.

Once back in the main room you wrapped yourself in the blankets in the bed and curled up, anything you could do to try to shield yourself from everything.

Time passed, Bira came and went with food and you ignored her, the sun set, and now the house dark and cold.

It was late when Zen’jan finally returned and your heart sank, dreading what was to come. His eyes darted across your face where you peaked out from the blankets before he approached. Instinctively you recoiled back as he got to the edge of the bed.

“I am not going to touch you” he snapped and snatched a pillow off the bed before slinking over to hearth and beginning to work on starting a fire.

A small fire now cast shadows around the room and began to chase the chill from the air. Zen’jan laid on the ground with his back to you at the edge of the of the wood floor and the pillow he snatched, but otherwise did not interact with you.

Part of you probably should have felt bad seeing that he was intending on sleeping on the floor in his own home, but much more of you was relieved that at least for now he was going to just leave you be.

Part 2

[delulujuls]

the true one | jacaerys velaryon

hi, here comes the pt3 of my jace series. i was having few ideas for how to end this one but i got carried away and i even started to feel bad how i decided to solve it.

we will see if i will end this up on here or write another part because man i do really feel bad for aegon:( im not gonna lie, at one moment i started to smell a love trangle forming up here lmao

summary: love lifts you up, but it can also hurt you. in case of dragon princess and young prince from dragonstone, love saved westeros from war, but it broke one heart that was already broken enough. a shattered heard from someone who since the beginning wanted love, not the crown.

warnings: mentions of sex, nothing crazy though

pairing: sister!targaryen reader x jacaerys velaryon (ft. cregan stark aka the-best-wingman-in-whole-westeros and aegon 'the broken boy' targaryen)

King Viserys did not engage in many wars during his reign, for he was considered a wise and good ruler. However, those that were unavoidable, he almost always managed to win. There was one battle he unfortunately could not win, and that was the battle with his illness.

Death came for the good king shortly after his 52nd Name Day, leaving Westeros without a ruler. There were two candidates vying for the Iron Throne, each equally certain of their right to it.

Many believed that Rhaenyra, the king's first child, was the rightful heir to the throne. However, because she was a woman, the crown fell to Aegon, Viserys' eldest son. Ultimately, he was proclaimed the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, but not everyone agreed with this decision. One of those who did not was Rhaenyra herself.

The Princess of Dragonstone, believing there had been a misunderstanding, began to gather allies around her who were willing to support her claim to the throne. Aegon, of course, did the same. At some point, however, there was no more talk of a peaceful resolution, and gathering allies turned into gathering armies. A cold wind blew over Westeros, heralding not only the coming winter but also war.

The most distant from the sunny King's Landing to the south was the North. There lay many settlements rich in resources and armies, which were now more valuable than gold. Both Rhaenyra and Aegon had no intention of wasting time. They had to secure allies faster than their opponent.

"You will go North," Rhaenyra told her eldest son. "Lord Cregan is closer to your age than mine. I am sure you will find a common language."

Jacaerys nodded silently and embraced his mother. He understood the weight of the task entrusted to him and intended to fulfill it to the best of his ability. Similar words Alicent Hightower directed to her eldest daughter when she visited her in her chambers one evening.

"Me?" the young princess asked, sitting in front of the mirror and brushing her hair. The maid who had been doing it earlier quickly left the room as soon as the queen appeared. "You have the King's Best Sword and the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard at your disposal, and you want to send me to the North?"

"Aemond may wield a sword skillfully, and Ser Criston may be an envoy of even the Father himself," she said, gripping the back of the chair her daughter sat in. "But they are still men. They are driven by the desire to fight and pride."

When she looked at her daughter's face in the reflection, the girl merely shook her head.

"The people of the North must see the sacrifice we are willing to offer. You will not gain their support by intimidating them with a dragon but with gentleness and a good heart, burning with zeal and the desire for peace."

"The desire for peace," the girl scoffed. "You want to send me there to gather people ready to go to their deaths."

Alicent lowered her gaze. She looked at her daughter's bright hair, flowing down her back like liquid gold. She took it between her fingers and began to braid it.

"You are betrothed to the king, soon to be his wife and queen of the Seven Kingdoms," she said. "You will present yourself to them as the king's prudent right hand and future good queen. No one warms the image of a ruler better than his wife."

"Rhaenyra doesn't need to send anyone to the North to gain their support," she replied, glancing at her mother in the reflection. "You know well that no one will stand by the usurper."

"Perhaps not by the usurper, but by the future queen, they might."

The young princess knew that her mother left her no choice. Knowing that her journey was doomed to failure, she mounted her dragon the same day and set off in the direction from which the cold, winter-foretelling wind blew.

The eldest Targaryen princess and the prince of Dragonstone had not seen each other since they had celebrated Rhaenyra's 32nd Name Day together with King Viserys. Much had changed since then. News of the king's death spread across Westeros, and the Targaryen family split in two. Nothing indicated that the young princes, bound by feelings, would ever meet again. Certainly, none of them expected to meet hundreds of miles from home on frozen ground.

Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell, knew this well. Ravens informing of the visit had reached him from both King's Landing and Dragonstone. The Small Council, in which the Wolf of the North sat, tried to dissuade him from the crazy idea of bringing both warring sides to Winterfell. However, Cregan was hopeful that Jacaerys was not driven by his mother's spirit and that the young princess was not a reflection of her cruel brother. He believed he would see dragons dancing while playing on the snowy sky, not waging war. He believed that youth and good hearts would prevail.

The prince of Dragonstone arrived in Winterfell first. Vermax swooped down from the sky with a roar, causing the inhabitants to watch the winged beast in horror. Neither the dragon nor its rider had any ill intentions. The same intentions did not drive the young princess, who arrived in the capital of the North shortly afterward. Just as the relatively small Vermax instilled fear in the people, so did the sight of the massive Vermithor prompt many to clasp their hands in prayer. May the Old Gods watch over the North.

When the Bronze Fury descended from the sky, Lord Stark and Prince Velaryon were on their way back from the Wall. They learned of the guest's arrival only when a rider came to meet them, announcing the arrival of a dragon.

"A dragon?" Jacaerys furrowed his brow and looked questioningly at the host. "Another dragon has come to Winterfell?"

"Yes, my prince," Cregan replied, urging his horse forward. "Let us hurry, we must not keep the guest waiting."

The young princess was informed that Lord Stark would soon arrive and was taken from the cold and invited to the chamber set aside for her stay in Winterfell. She removed her warm cloak and sat by the fireplace, rubbing her cold hands. She had been uncertain during the journey, but now she began to feel genuinely nervous. What was her mother thinking, sending her here?

Jacaerys remained silent throughout the return journey, gripping the reins so tightly his fingers went numb. Who had come to Winterfell? Had his mother sent someone after him? If so, why? And if it wasn't Rhaenyra, someone from King's Landing must have come North. Aegon? No, that would be too prudent. Aemond? Had he come to secure allies? And why had Lord Stark accepted this so calmly? Was it an ambush?

When they arrived at Winterfell, they headed straight for the castle. Instructed which chamber the guest awaited in, they went there immediately. Jacaerys' heart pounded wildly, and he did not share Lord Stark's calm demeanor. When Cregan knocked and pushed open the heavy door to one of the chambers, Jacaerys felt his heart leap into his throat. Hearing the knock at the door, the young princess felt the same. She took a deep breath and rose from her seat, smoothing her tunic with her hands. She looked up at the entrance and saw a tall, young man. She guessed that the steely-eyed youth was Lord Stark. However, he was not alone; someone else entered right behind him. The princess could not believe her eyes. She felt as though her mind was playing tricks on her after the exhausting journey.

"Jace?" she spoke uncertain, almost questioningly.

Jacaerys was in such shock that he felt as if his legs had grown roots into the ground.

"Princess," was all he could stammer out as she quickly approached him and hugged him tightly. The young prince closed his eyes and returned the embrace strongly. Feeling her in his arms, her hair tickling his face, he realized it was not a dream. It was truly her.

Cregan smiled at the sight of the dragons lost in each other's embrace. He knew he had no reason to worry. Kindness and youth would always prevail.

Still holding the girl, Jacaerys glanced at the Wolf Lord. Cregan smiled at him and quietly left the room.

"I thought I would never see you again," the girl whispered after a moment, pulling away and cupping his face in her hands. Tears shone in her violet eyes. Jacaerys took her hands and kissed each one.

"I feared the same," he admitted, not hiding his own emotions.

The pair sat by the fireplace, talking animatedly. They held each other's hands tightly the entire time, as if afraid that one might disappear at any moment.

They talked for a long time, forgetting the world around them. They spoke of what had happened to them since their last meeting, about the events that were tearing their family apart, and about the looming war. When their conversation turned to more serious topics, a servant entered the room, announcing that Lord Stark invited them to dinner. The Dragon Princess and the Prince of Dragonstone joined the Wolf of the North. The dinner was sumptuous but did not have many guests. The dining room hosted only the three of them.

"I hope you don't hold this arranged meeting against me, your Highnesses," Cregan said, pouring them wine.

The princess shook her head while eating, taking a sip from her goblet.

"It was a bold move, my lord," Jacaerys admitted. "I guess you had no certainty about how it might end."

"Indeed," Cregan acknowledged. "But I felt that neither of you held the dark values that sometimes blind your families. Luckily for me, and even more for the people of Winterfell, I managed to avoid making another Harrenhall here."

"You can't deny your courage, my lord," the girl smiled, glancing at him. "A bit of madness too."

Cregan smiled at her words and raised his goblet in a toast.

"I hope we can reach a good understanding together."

The princely pair also raised their goblets in a toast. That evening, there was no lack of wine and ale, and the topic of the impending war, though important, was left for another day. That evening was spent on more pleasant and mundane conversations. It did not resemble an evening where three representatives of different values gathered, but rather three friends.

As the wine started to buzz in their heads and the table was cleared of food, Lord Stark declared it was time to retire. After wishing each other a good night, Jacaerys went to escort the princess to her chamber. He held her securely by the waist to prevent her from falling, as their legs wobbled like reeds in the wind. The pair giggled quietly in each other's arms, their cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

"Stay with me," she whispered when they reached her chamber. "I guess the nights are exceptionally cold here."

"How could I refuse you, princess," he smiled, and she returned his smile and pulled him inside. On unsteady legs, she walked to a small mirror and sat down, beginning to undo her hair. Jacaerys approached her and gently, with great reverence, began to help. He carefully untangled her braids, occasionally glancing at her face in the mirror. Their eyes met frequently, eliciting soft giggles. The young prince had never stopped having feelings for her, feelings that had blossomed so vividly when they spent time together on Dragonstone. The young princess couldn't recall a day when she hadn't thought of him. Her heart, which she was supposed to give to another, loved the Velaryon youth unconditionally.

"You're even more beautiful than I remembered," he whispered. He slowly ran his fingers through her hair, feeling as if he held velvet in his hands.

The girl smiled and stood up, facing him. She touched his cheek and ran her thumb along it. Jacaerys did the same, pulling her by the waist closer to him with his other hand. He noticed a necklace with a three-headed dragon, each head holding a green emerald, around her neck. The young prince's face saddened.

"Have you already married him?"

"No," she replied. "And I still don't want to."

Jacaerys looked up at her, about to say something, but she kissed him impulsively. Realizing what she had done, she wanted to pull away and apologize, but the young prince caught the back of her head and deepened the kiss. She cupped his face in her hands, returning each kiss.

"Marry me, princess," he whispered. "We'll run away to where the map doesn't reach. Away from all this."

The Dragon Princess smiled and nodded, kissing him tenderly in response. Their wine and ale-soaked lips exchanged deep kisses, and their hands clumsily removed each other's clothes. Shortly after, they found themselves in a fur-covered bed, lost in each other's embrace. They didn't think about whether what they were doing was wrong. What was wrong was marrying someone you felt only fear and hatred for. The young princess knew she could never feel for Aegon even a fraction of the feelings she had for Jacaerys.

As night turned to dawn, the pair lay entwined together. Their naked, sweat-drenched, and kiss-marked bodies lay intertwined, almost as one. The girl pressed her cheek against the prince's chest, stroking him gently, and he held her, tracing patterns on her bare back with his fingers.

"Let's get married here," she said after a while. "Here, in the Godswood."

Jacaerys smiled sleepily and hugged her tighter. "Do you think Lord Stark would agree to that?"

"I think he'd be the first to bless us."

The young prince chuckled softly at her words. The girl lifted herself and looked at his face.

"I love you, Jace," she confessed almost in a whisper. "And I'm afraid I won't be able to stop."

The boy smiled and cupped her face. His heart swelled at her words. The love he saw in her eyes was boundless.

"I love you too, princess. I would give my life for you."

The next day, even before the three of them sat down for breakfast, Lord Stark knew what had transpired in one of his castle's chambers. He had heard that the bed in Jacaerys' room remained unmade and that he had arrived at the dining hall in the company of the princess. Cregan would be lying if he said he wasn't pleased. He hadn't realized the feelings the pair of dragons had for each other. It turned out that love could indeed conquer war. Still filled with apprehension, Jacaerys decided to present the Wolf of the North with the idea of marriage.

"Who am I to dissuade you from this idea?" he replied. "I will gladly lead the princess to the wedding myself."

That same day, in the Godswood, the wedding ceremony took place. Compared to weddings held in the Faith of the Seven, it was modest. Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell, fulfilled his promise and led the dragon princess to the Weirwood tree, where her Velaryon prince awaited her. Beyond the wall of the Godswood, two large dragon heads watched, occasionally breaking the silence with squawking and growling.

The witnesses to the wedding were dragons, the Wolf of the North, the Heart Tree, and the Old Gods, who silently observed the marriage. Dry leaves rustled in the icy wind, and snowflakes settled on the rosy cheeks of the soon-to-be-married couple, who became husband and wife after a brief ceremony.

"So, it is done," Lord Stark smiled. "But what kind of wedding would it be without a feast?"

The newlyweds exchanged smiles and, holding hands, followed the Wolf of the North towards the castle. That day, the specter of war had to wait as well.

However, the next day, the issue of northern allies and whose side they would take had to be addressed. The dragon princess represented the greens, while Jacaerys the blacks.

"Have your lords side with us," the princess proposed during a Small Council meeting, gripping her husband's hand tightly under the table. "Not with Aegon or Rhaenyra. Let them withdraw from this battle for allies."

"With all due respect, princess, are you planning to fight? To be a third party in this conflict?" one of the men at the table asked.

"There will be no war," Jacaerys interjected. "And even if there were, it wouldn't be the North's war. They won't participate in what's happening in the South. This will weaken the military forces."

"We can't be neutral," another man stated. "Lack of a side is worse than betrayal. What if someone less benevolent than you comes on a dragon and razes us to the ground?"

"No one will do that," the princess assured. "I guarantee your safety."

"I do too," Jacaerys added. "The capital must understand that this conflict has no higher purpose and will only bring unimaginable misery."

"I'm afraid, Your Highnesses, that neither Princess Rhaenyra nor King Aegon will relent," one of the men replied. "Do you think your marriage would dissuade them? The King could annul it at any moment."

"The King can continue doing what he does best, drinking himself into oblivion and fucking whores," the girl snapped, involuntarily squeezing Jacaerys's hand harder. "If the news of the wedding isn't already on its way to the South, it will be soon. Tomorrow we'll head back and announce that the marriage is a peace treaty. And if that doesn't impress anyone, we'll send a message to all who have allied with both Aegon and Rhaenyra to withdraw their commitments. I swear by the Seven, no one, given the choice, will go to certain death. The fight between dragons will bring nothing else."

The princess's words brought silence among the gathered. After a moment, Lord Stark stood up and drew his sword, kneeling before the girl.

"You can count on me, princess. The Stark family will side with the young couple."

The dragon princess smiled and nodded to him. Grateful, Jacaerys did the same. Soon after, each of the men at the Council meeting followed the Wolf's lead. The girl's passionate and convincing words withdrew not only the Stark family but also the Umbers, Karstarks, Mormonts, Boltons, Ryswells, Reeds, Hornwoods, and Cerwyns from the conflict. And it was just the beginning.

That same day, ravens were sent to all who had castles from the Wall to Moat Cailin, from the Stormy Shore to Widow's Watch. Each message was signed by the young couple and the Wolf of the North himself.

"I wish you much perseverance, Your Highnesses," Cregan said before they mounted their dragons. "But I believe you will manage to dissuade us from war."

It might not have been appropriate, but the girl hugged him tightly in farewell. Cregan had done unimaginable things for them in just a few days. The Wolf of the North smiled and hugged her back.

"I've never met someone with a heart like yours, princess," he admitted. "You have my word that the North will always protect it."

Jacaerys extended his hand to him, but Cregan hugged and patted him on the back. The Prince of Dragonstone smiled and returned the embrace.

Two dragons left Winterfell, but the icy wind carried them for a long time. That same wind brought news of the wedding to the South shortly after, before they had traveled even a quarter of the way.

"May the Seven protect us," Alicent sank into her chair when the maester came to her with the news. She strictly forbade anyone to speak of it, especially to Aegon. She quickly sent for the Hand.

Otto laughed when he heard the news. His daughter, however, found no humor in it.

"Brilliant," he remarked, filling his goblet and taking a sip of wine.

"Brilliant?" Alicent thought everyone had lost their minds. "She broke off the engagement. Aegon could burn Dragonstone to the ground when they return."

"If I were Aegon, I'd pack the crown in the finest cloth, seal it with the best wax, and send it to Dragonstone immedatiely."

Alicent shook her head and buried her face in her hands. Otto did not share his daughter's pessimism.

"Or better yet, he should place it on dear sister's head himself when she returns from Winterfell," he corrected. "The girl circumvented a code we didn't even know existed."

"She caused a catastrophe!" Alicent exclaimed, looking at her father in disbelief. "She was Aegon's betrothed and the future queen. She was only supposed to go North to gain allies!"

"And she decided to end the war," he replied. "We definitely placed the wrong child on the throne."

Alicent shook her head in disbelief. She didn't know if her father was joking or if he genuinely saw no problem with the situation.

"So what should we do?" she asked, looking at him.

"First, we should wait for them to return and announce this joyous news," he said.

When the dragons reached the South, they decided to separate. Jacaerys returned to Dragonstone, wanting to personally deliver the news to his mother not only about the marriage but also about the withdrawal of the northern armies from the war. The princess returned to King’s Landing and immediately made her way to Aegon’s chambers.

She didn’t know if the news had reached her brother, but she decided to handle the matter herself and as a priority. A small dagger hung at her belt, and she had no guards with her except for the two standing in front of Aegon’s chamber doors. The men greeted her and bowed slightly, but she dismissed them as soon as she stood in front of her brother's chambers. She took a deep breath to muster some courage as she raised her fist and knocked on the door.

When a voice from inside instructed her to enter, the young princess pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside. Aegon stood before a large mirror, dressed in armor. Three men were fussing around him, making adjustments, adding and removing parts of the armor. Three guards stood beside Aegon, talking animatedly with him. However, when they noticed the princess, they bowed, and the two tailors did the same. Aegon saw in the mirror’s reflection a figure he hadn’t seen for several moons. He smiled and turned, taking a sip of wine from the goblet he held.

"My brave, sweet sister," he said, stepping down from a small stool. He was drunk, as always. "Did you secure the North for me, my dear?"

"I need to talk to you," she approached, glancing at him. "In private."

"You heard the future queen, out!" Aegon commanded, waving his hand. Shortly afterward, the room was empty except for the siblings. The young king finished his wine and set the empty goblet aside, stepping closer to the girl. When he was within arm’s reach, he raised his hand to touch her cheek, but she pulled her head back.

"I hoped that your visit to the North would cool your temper a bit," he admitted, lowering his hand. "But i see that even the harshest cold can’t chill a dragon."

"I married Jacaerys," the girl said quickly, almost as quickly as if she had shot an arrow from a crossbow. Her voice didn’t tremble. She raised her eyes to her brother’s face. "I won’t be your wife, Aegon."

The boy snorted, but seeing her serious expression, he couldn’t help but laugh.

"What did you do?" he chuckled. "Repeat it, because I must have misheard."

"We got married in Winterfell, and Lord Stark decided to withdraw from the war. His vassal lords too, and the whole North was given the same choice."

Seeing that his sister wasn’t joking, Aegon wiped the smile from his face. His eyes, though glossy with alcohol, looked at her in shock. His eyelid twitched.

The young princess clenched her jaw. However, she didn’t take a step back. Her muscles tensed involuntarily, readying for a fight or flight. Aegon, however, didn’t say a word. He was the first to retreat. He reached for the goblet and poured himself some wine, drinking it greedily. The girl expected anything. She was ready for his screams, insults, and threats. She was even ready for him to raise his hand against her. But Aegon did none of that. He sat on the stool he had stood on moments ago and gripped the goblet in his hands.

"Why did you do it?"

The princess didn’t expect to hear that question. Now it was she who felt as if she had misheard.

"To weaken and humiliate me?" he asked, raising his eyes to look at her. "Or to hurt me?"

"I love him," she admitted sincerely. She wasn’t lying. It had never even crossed her mind to strike at her brother in such a way. "And he loves me. He is kind to me."

Aegon lowered his gaze, staring at the goblet in his hands. Despite the armor he wore, despite the title of king he held, he felt like a rat. His reaction surprised the girl. To such an extent that she didn’t know what to say.

"Would I be incapable of loving you?" he asked after a moment, looking at her again. The girl couldn’t meet his eyes.

"You only fill me with fear," she admitted quietly.

Aegon’s eyes roamed her face. He recalled a time when he had gone too far and threatened her with a knife, the times he bullied and intimidated her. He lowered his gaze. You fill her with fear, monster, he thought. You are a monster, Aegon.

In silence, the girl raised her eyes to her brother’s face. Deciding that the conversation had no chance of continuing, she turned to leave his chambers.

"I'm sorry," his voice called out behind her. The young princess turned and looked at her brother. Aegon’s cheeks were wet with tears. "I apologize for everything I did to you."

"I was never your enemy," she replied. She couldn’t muster anything more to say.

She quickly left her brother, heading to her chambers. She wasn’t ready for a confrontation with her mother. She needed to recover from what she had just experienced.

Nevertheless, Westeros managed to dispel the looming specter of war. The wind from the North brought only winter, not bloodshed. Every few days, ravens arrived at Winterfell with news that another castle had joined the young dragons’ marriage and withdrawn from the war. Families from the east, west, and south did the same, sending their assurances directly to Dragonstone. Rhaenyra and Aegon had to abandon the conflict. Viserys’s eldest daughter even planned to go to King’s Landing to reconcile with her brother and acknowledge him as king. The same day she planned to set out, a messenger brought her a small chest.

"What is this?" she asked, glancing at the young man. She accepted the gift uncertainly.

"From King’s Landing, Your Grace."

Jacaerys stopped his mother’s hand as she reached for the latch on the chest. "It could be a trap."

"Would Aegon want to kill me in such a way?" she looked at him with amusement. The young prince hesitantly withdrew his hand.

Rhaenyra opened the box and had to blink several times. She reached into the chest and pulled out a crown. The same one her father had worn on his head.

In shock, she looked at her son and niece, who were as astonished as she was.

"Aegon returned your crown," the girl said quietly.

"It doesn’t have to be Aegon," Jacaerys shook his head. He didn’t believe in any good intentions from his uncle.

The girl took the crown from Rhaenyra and examined it in her hands. In several places, she noticed fingerprints stained with wine. She had no doubts.

"It was Aegon."

[ilovebabygirls]

PERSEVERANCE . kang dae-ho

pairing — kang dae-ho × female reader | mention of kim jun-hee × female reader (platonic)

tags — pure angst | some comfort & fluff | third person point of view

warnings — no happy ending | english is not my first language!! | use of lowercase intended | canon accurate violence | blood | death | assault | hint of misogyny | capitalism | major daddy issues | toxic masculinity

words count — 15k

summary — she was nowhere near a fighter, barely surviving through the games. that is what she believed until she encountered a certain former marine who swore he would protect her with his life. will he be able to keep his promise when a fight breaks out?

last updated — 20/02/2025

requested by @miy-svz

latest work — kang dae-ho boyfriend headcanons

heads spinning. bodies were trembling in fear. the repetitive circular motion of the carousel causing unsteadiness. her heart was beating out of her chest in panic. she was on the verge of tearing her ears off, the eerie melody and children's voices haunting her. she felt nauseous and the smell of blood was doing nothing to help out. her feet were anchored to the ground. her legs were slightly spread apart so as to not lose her balance. she felt dizzy but distraction would rush her to her demise. at this point, she regretted all her life choices, from the great amount of student debt she amassed to study abroad, to accepting playing children's games she was unfamiliar with because of cultural differences.

fortunately, in this living hell, [your name] found hope. she had allied with seong gi-hun's group, also known as the previous winner of the games. the young woman was grateful to be part of this team. the odds had to be in her favour. she was surrounded by strong and reliable people, and in particular one of the kindest souls.

kang dae-ho.

although the first impression he had made on her had not been the greatest, she eventually realised she had been mistaken. she had noticed him in the dormitory after the first vote. a small crowd had gathered around player 456. most players who had come had voted to remain in the games, they were definitely asking for guidance to work on a strategy for the next round. perched on top of her bed on the opposite side of the room, she had deeply sighed as she watched the scene unfold with disdain. the crowd had seemed to consider they had a fair chance of triumphing in these games. she was incapable of fathoming how anyone would gamble their life for money. then again, compared to some of the people who ended up in this place, she was not the one with the most debt amassed.

the young woman had lifted her gaze to the clear golden piggy bank hovering over the room, a constant reminder of their desperation. all that cash hanging over her head and she was unable to reach it. it spoke to her, messed with her mind and interfered with her common sense. these people were toying with the players, a system exploiting the penniless for their profit and entertainment. regardless, greed did not consume her yet, and the student was far from willing to sacrifice her life.

the woman was ripped away from her string of thoughts when a deep exclamation erupted. two men were standing where the crowd once was. she recognised one of them as the man who had stayed close to player 456 during the first game. player 390 was proudly smiling in front of a tall man and muscular in a half ponytail, slapping his arm in a fatherly manner. his form was strict, worthy of a soldier, as he saluted the older man. he was the source of the disturbance. macho and prideful were a few of the terms she had come up with to describe the view. she had sent their way the most judgmental look she could have mustered, which they did not catch, too focused on their little show.

"the lunatic said the next game was going to be dalgona." she had overheard a woman say near her bunk.

dalgona? like the sweet? were they gonna have an eating contest?

[your name] had officially met the man as she was looking for a group during the six-legged pentathlon. the players had entered the artificial and colourful courtyard as the feminine voice was introducing the next challenge.

it was not going to be a dalgona.

thank god.

the young woman had been slightly relieved at the announcement since she had never competed in the presumed game. moreover, being part of a group was reassuring, knowing she could count on her teammates to win, or instead, they could bring her down with them. at least if she managed to be accepted, nay tolerated, in a group. [your name] had been dragging her feet around the playground for a while, scrutinising her surroundings. the walls were painted a baby blue shade, clouds drawn haphazardly all over them, similar to events in kindergarten where children would decorate the classroom with their craftwork. the main entrance looked like school gates with inspiring words on top of it. alongside the main entrance were countless fake windows with different coloured curtains and chalk drawings on blackboards. rainbows adorned the doors throughout the arena contrasting with the deathly atmosphere.

many players had already formed teams of six, men sticking together assuming letting a woman in was suicide. less than three minutes were left on the clock, time was ticking fast. everyone she had asked to join had either rejected her, laughed in her face or the team was already full. [your name] had been so desperate that she had even approached that marvel fan rapper wannabe known as thanos, however, she had been immediately shushed by his lapdog with a bob who insulted her under his breath. the purple-haired man had simply pouted at her, tilting his head like a puppy. thanos said something in english she did not comprehend, despite speaking the language, before jiggling his hands in front of his face, displaying his tattoos and ridiculous multicoloured nails. the rapper turned his body away, jumping and crossing his legs, and strutted away with an exaggerated movement of his shoulders, his two teammates on his tail. she shook her head in disbelief and pulled her attention away from the trio.

it was now easy to detect who had been left behind. her eyes darted around the playground in search of a despairing soul. her gaze eventually locked with the one of a young woman her age, who she remembered from "red light, green light". [your name] had stood behind her during the crocodile line strategy presented by player 456, she had helped the girl up when the latter's legs had almost given out under her weight. [your name] had pressed the stranger's back against her chest, tightly hugging her body. however, the student had been startled when she felt a large bump but had chosen to keep quiet.

her legs had a mind of their own and led her to the unmoving player.

"did you find a group yet?" she questioned, her fists clenched in her pockets. she tried to appear nonchalant, when in fact, she was terrified. her eyes betrayed her as she blinked too much to be relaxed. what would happen to people without a group? would they form a group together? or would they be eliminated on the spot despite being an even number, allowing them to make equal teams?

"not yet..." the woman responded. her interlocutor hummed in return, slowly nodding.

"do you wanna team up?" [your name] proposed, pursing her lips, nervously waiting for the girl's reply.

"yes, please." she quickly agreed. "i'm jun-hee." she introduced herself.

"[your name]." she coldly responded, offering a weak smile.

"now, we just need four other people. easier said than done..." the young woman admitted as jun-hee nodded.

they roamed around one more minute, eyeing groups who would perhaps take them in. they were not demanding, anyone would do. however, they were aware they were a not sight for the sore eye or promising candidates. a pregnant lady (most were not aware of her condition, regardless, she was still a frail-looking woman) and a foreigner (she would be a millstone round the neck simply by her cluelessness concerning the rules of the games). jun-hee landed her eyes on a specific group and began to walk in their direction. [your name] directed her gaze to where her teammate was heading and her eyes widened. she ran after player 222 in a hurry.

"i don't think they are gonna be very welcoming, jun-hee." she warned. jun-hee paid her no mind and maintained her pace. the man who had been previously yelling in the sleeping quarters had already fetched two players just as spirited, player 390 seemingly the most satisfied by the young man's find. too late, the team was full, not that they had any chance of joining. nevertheless, jun-hee would not let this prevent her from shooting her shot despite [your name]'s vain murmurs of protest.

jun-hee planted herself in front of the group and spoke up, her teammate awkwardly standing a step back.

"excuse me. please let us join your team." she pleaded, her eyes wide open. she appeared like prey in the wild.

"sorry, we've already got six people—" player 390 replied before he was abruptly interrupted.

"she is pregnant!" her teammate suddenly blurted out. all eyes were on her as she stood next to jun-hee, who was as startled as the men. the young woman straightened her posture, released a breath she had been holding and cleared her throat.

"you don't need to let me join, but please let her..." she whispered, getting a hold of herself after her short outburst. she hoped the men would show some empathy or, at best, pity her new acquaintance. if one of the two women could escape from an evident death, she deemed it necessary to overshare personal details even if it was not her place to do so.

"please help us." jun-hee finished, instinctively placing a hand on her bump and grabbing the other woman by the wrist.

a few seconds of unnerving silence ensued. none of the men knew the appropriate way to react. they all gawked at the woman's belly, her grip tensing on [your name]'s wrist in apprehension.

dae-ho had been the one to break the silence, advocating for the two women when he had recommended the two marines for the team.

"we can't let them fend for themselves. especially a pregnant woman. i say we let them join." he said, holding his hand up in a fist as his mouth tightened into a thin line. he threw an apologising look at the men, feeling slightly embarrassed. he had brought them over just to let them go in a matter of seconds. gi-hun immediately agreed with the young man and player 001, who seemed to follow anything the latter declared, acquiesced. player 390 was the only one who had not said anything since [your name] revealed jun-hee's pregnancy. regardless, his opinion would not count as his teammates had reached a decision.

"you have two marines to protect you, girls. you're safe with us." he forced out a smile. the group dismissed the other two men whose protests were ignored. they walked away, one patting the other's back. [your name] could not feel sorry for them, they would find a team in no time, however, the newly formed team was disadvantaged if people's opinions were taken into consideration.

to everyone's surprise, the team crossed the finishing line a couple of seconds before the end of the countdown. after all, the two girls turned out to be a valuable addition to the group, both of them completing their mini-game in one attempt (unlike young-il who had crashed out and cost them priceless time).

as the guards escorted them back to the dormitories, dae-ho walked alongside her and decided to strike up a small conversation.

"i am glad we survived. are you okay? i mean, after all that." he began, skimming over her figure to confirm any scrapes she could have. she frowned at the sudden interaction.

"don't worry, i'm fine." she assured. "you... uhm, you were really good at gonggi. like you did that all your life." she added to dissipate the awkwardness that only she was feeling.

"you could say so." he chuckled before moving his attention to the woman's mini-game. "i don't know how you passed 'cham cham cham' in one go. are you a telepath?" he joked, throwing [your name] a wide smile which she responded with a genuine giggle.

"actually, the guard made it pretty easy. i just had to observe how he did it with the other teams. he would start with the same two moves and the third one would be different. so i just had to pick the first direction he chose on the third round." she explained with a proud grin. dae-ho let out a long impressed noise, briefly clapping.

"i wouldn't have caught on." he praised with a toothy smile.

"what's your name?" he bluntly asked, taking her off guard as he tilted his head.

"oh, uhm... my name is [your name]." she introduced herself as the man hummed.

"that's a pretty name. i'm dae-ho, kang dae-ho." he replied placing his hand on his chest. "nice to meet you." he finished, an optimistic glint in his eyes. then, the group was stopped in front of the door to the dormitory.

[your name] was happily surprised by dae-ho. she was wrong all along. it will teach her before judging a book by its cover.

dae-ho was the quintessence of sunshine. through the darkness, he was the light she longed for. he never allowed her to renounce hope, always cheering her on. during their free time between games, they would talk about their childhood memories, dae-ho eagerly telling her how his sisters would use him as their human doll, and how, as a child, he much preferred their company over the one of kids his age. as for her, she would describe specific aspects and customs from her home country, attempting to teach him some words from her mother-tongue as he would miserably fail to pronounce syllables.

as maladroit as he could be, it was heartwarming.

jung-bae's sudden question brought her back to reality.

"what do you think it'll be this time?" jung-bae asked gi-hun from behind. she prayed it would be the last round as the uncanny and robotic feminine voice did not indicate how many more they would be compelled to play. before gi-hun could answer, young-il beat him to it.

"two." the imperturbable man promptly said as jung-bae made him elaborate.

"there are one hundred twenty-six people left, and there are fifty rooms. so there won't be enough rooms for everyone. only for hundred people." he explained. how did he know all that? did he manage to calculate the probabilities? did he just guess? it was irrelevant. "the rest will be killed."

over half of the players had already lost their lives in this nightmare.

she was fucked.

gi-hun would obviously pair up with his best friend. young-il was beyond her reach to run to safety within the time frame offered (and quite frankly, she was a little bit afraid of the man since the stunt he pulled during the six-legged race). hyun-ju would pair up with young-mi as she was her protege, and the old woman and her son were holding each other for dear life. as for dae-ho, he had made it his life mission to guard jun-hee. after all, she was pregnant, which made her a priority.

priority or not, [your name] wanted to live just as much.

she had voted to leave this place without hesitation since the voting system was introduced to the contestants. she deserved to live as much as anyone else, nonetheless, she also wanted her teammates to survive. young-mi would have died in the last round if it had not been for another group that had dragged the young girl into their room at the last second. hyun-ju was out of her mind when her friend was nowhere in sight, ramming into and yanking the door almost busting the hinges when the countdown ran out. the tall woman had lunged at the man who had forced himself into the safe room by pushing her out of the doorframe, preventing her from looking for young-mi. player 333, also known as a scammer, lashed out, claiming he saved everyone (he only saved himself uninterested by the people surrounding him). according to him, young-mi was condemned since she fell. harsh, but had the merit to be honest. everyone fell silent and eventually slowly agreed with him. when the nine of them finally exited the room in a dreadful frame of mind, young-mi yelled out hyun-ju's name, throwing herself in the woman's arms as she uncontrollably wept in her shoulders. both women collapsed to the ground trembling and choking out sobs.

she could always pair up with the new addition to their group, player 246. he seemed dependable and close enough to reach. she had never interacted with him, but pleasantries were not necessary in a game where death flirted with you every now and then. her strategy was to cling onto the man and bolt for any door while fending off frenzied players.

the machine abruptly halted as players held onto one another to keep their balance.

"two!" the voice announced as the lights began to flash.

young-il was correct.

[your name] looked around as player 246 got off the platform, holding gi-hun by the arm. her ticket out was slipping away. young-il was also out of the picture as he had grabbed jung-bae and bolted away the moment the number was revealed. her frenetic eyes failed to find any of her teammates on the carousel. players were fighting, pushing and pulling each other off the platform, ripping their tracksuits up. the melody was maddening as her pulse quickened. she felt palpitations in her whole body, unable to properly think without panicking. logically, one of her friends was still here considering the group was now made up of an even number.

where were they then?

tears threatened to spill, she was petrified, alone, like in the outside world. she eventually resigned herself to her fate, instead choosing to bravely endure it.

death.

[your name] closed her eyelids and faintly exhaled, welcoming the end.

as the first tear rolled on her cheek, she was yanked from the platform and rushed to a bright yellow door. her eyes widened, landing on a broad figure with a tiny ponytail. dae-ho grabbed her arm as he reached her and raced to the first door he laid eyes on. no one was in front of them, if they kept the same pace they would reach the safe room in time without any trouble. her lungs were on fire, dae-ho's grip was definitely cutting off her blood flow, and her shoes were slipping on the floor. but, adrenaline was pumping in her veins and she was determined to live. if she did not do it for herself, she owed it to dae-ho to ensure his survival.

the former marine nearly crashed against the door as he twisted the doorknob, jerking the door open. he entered the safe room, looking over his shoulder to confirm his partner followed close behind despite tightly holding her by the wrist. [your name] had managed to put a foot past the entrance before another player seized her by the collar, nearly choking her in the process. the player snatched her from dae-ho's grip when the latter brought his guard down and threw her in a puddle of blood. her head took a harsh blow at impact and bounced against the floor.

only ten seconds remained on the clock. the player who had attacked the young woman tried to push past dae-ho, stepping on the woman's ankle without a care for her well-being to enter the room. she felt a throbbing pain in the area and screamed. dae-ho sprung into action and blocked the player's way giving him a swift kick in the abdomen with his knee. as the attacker stumbled back, dae-ho rushed to [your name]'s side, clutching onto her wounded ankle as she winced because of the sharp ache, dragging her into the room with one second left. she lied still as dae-ho charged at the door, keeping it closed until it automatically locked. the ex-marine tried to overlook the despairing pleas in the arena as the player who assaulted his friend banged on the door. the player launched a string of curses at the man while simultaneously imploring for his life. the player stuck his arm through the small rectangular peephole, grabbing dae-ho by the collar and pressing his face against the door until blood eventually squirted on the ex-marine's face. gunshots echoed through the arena as a hole appeared in the middle of the contestant's forehead, life gradually vanishing from his eyes. dae-ho tightly shut his eyes to dismiss the monstrosities as the player's body slumped, hanging from the peephole like a rag.

both of them were heavily panting. dae-ho slid down against the wall, his legs finally giving out. his body tensed up and trembled as more gunshots were fired in the circus tent. the palms of his hands were pressed against his ears as his knees were pulled to his chest. he tried to do that one breathing exercise his therapist had taught him, and he ultimately managed to get his heartbeats under control. he opened his eyes and scanned the room. [your name] was lying on her back, her hands hiding her face as one of her legs was folded and the other casually stretched out. dae-ho hurriedly crawled to her shaking figure and delicately laid his large hand on her shoulder. her body relaxed under his gentle touch.

"are you okay? tell me you're okay." he begged. he helped the woman to sit up, placing her back against his chest carefully. she winced and moaned, the pain in her ankle and head intensifying.

"did you just use me as a mop?" she broke the silence out of breath, kidding to lighten the mood. dae-ho was speechless as she began to softly giggle.

"i was so scared when you got attacked by that guy. i thought i lost you." he said, tightly hugging her, his face buried into her hair. his hands clutched onto her vest, which was drenched in blood, tainting his hands, but he could not care less.

"you're not gonna lose me, dae-ho. never." she hugged him back with as much devotion.

"you saved me. i really thought it was gonna be the end for me back there." she admitted when they pulled away. she was ashamed since she had doubted him, assuming he would reach for another teammate, taking the easy route to save himself.

"you did scare me a little bit. you were frozen in place." he explained exhaling. the beeping of the forklifts that carried the coffins could be heard outside the room. they would be freed from this torture in a few minutes. "i grabbed your hand, but you didn't move at first, so, i had to be a bit more forceful." he said, softly stroking her back.

[your name] had been in such a state of panic that she had not felt his touch. dae-ho wanted to save her, he wanted to partner up with her this whole time. he had never hesitated one second. guilt flashed in her eyes and she lowered her head, her reaction confusing dae-ho. he leaned in to make eye contact with the girl before she abruptly threw her arms around his shoulders, crying in the crook of his neck. a restful silence settled between the two as dae-ho consoled her, all her emotions conveyed in an instant. the man suppressed his own feelings, convinced the only way to calm her was to be tougher on himself.

"everything is gonna be okay. i'll never let anything happen to you." he whispered in her ear as he delicately caressed her hair.

eventually, the door unlocked itself. dae-ho carefully stood up, lending a hand to the injured woman. he snuck his arm around her waist as she used his shoulder for support. she was struggling to hold herself. dae-ho was using most of his strength to prevent her from collapsing into another puddle of blood.

as they left the room, they were met with jun-hee embrace who had run as fast as possible towards them, given her condition. player 333 was on her tail with a defeated look, probably annoyed jun-hee's attention was on people he deemed unimportant. [your name] tensed up at the sensation, still hugging her friend back. however, the grimace the wounded player pulled did not go unnoticed by the pregnant woman.

jun-hee took a step back and scanned her friend from head to toe.

"what happened to you?!" she questioned, her eyes widening at the woman's pitiful condition.

"just the price to live." she answered, forcing a smile out.

"some player pushed me and walked on my ankle. i think it might be sprained. i hope it's not broken, though..." she continued, lifting her leg to show her ankle from different angles.

"let's just go back in the dormitory. she needs to rest." dae-ho added as the guard ordered the remaining players to gather in a crowd in front of the entrance of the arena. everyone was exhausted, their shoulders slumped, their steps slow and sloppy. a hundred players were left indicating the amount of the jackpot had to be massive by now.

they would finally be freed. far away from this torment.

safe and sound.

despite the pain, this thought brought a small smile of relief to [your name]'s face.

she survived.

she was going home.

these were the dumbest people she had ever encountered in her entire life. they truly did not cherish their lives.

after "mingle", another vote had taken place. casting her vote had been rather humiliating. she was limping and relatively slow. someone on the other side had even roared at her to hurry up, that they did not have all day. unfortunately, they did have all day, unable to escape this horror if more people had no regard for human life. she had shot him a glare and resumed limping towards the console displaying the bright red and blue buttons. moreover, she had exposed her injury, turning her into an easy target for the ill-intended players. she was served on a silver platter to eliminate.

soon enough, the results were in. it was depressing.

a tie.

the most disappointing part was that most people would have been able to pay their debt with the amount each player would have been given. however, the call for money was apparently too tempting. the players, proudly wearing their blue patches, did not understand they were doomed, or perhaps they were too arrogant to even consider it. they believed they were more qualified to beat these games than the people they viewed as cowards. they already pictured themselves in a pool of bills, grazing the upper-class society like they merited, free of concerns for the clear-sighted people who knew they would never be accepted by the rich. there is no winning for the poor in capitalism. the players were just puppets in these people's cruel games. lambs willingly throwing themselves in the slaughterhouse after being shown the outcomes.

in the beginning, [your name] understood why most players had selected to stay in the games. for a lot of them, the outside world had nothing to provide and dying was certainly better than their tough and tedious routine. however, they would all have had sufficient funds for a fresh start. they would never leave the game until only one of them came out victorious. selfishness reeking from their soul. they had been repeating they would play "one more game" since the rules of these silly, yet murderous, tournaments were revealed. they would not quit at any obstacle, each one of them's greatest wish undoubtedly was to obtain the whole cash prize.

money had a hold on them and had clouded their better judgement.

this was further proven when a ferocious fight broke out in the men's restroom, taking the lives of five players. [your name] had insisted on heading to the restroom by herself, deeming it unnecessary to be chaperoned by hyun-ju, although the others had insisted. she needed some space to reflect on what had occurred and to freshen up.

she entered the empty austere restroom, grateful no one else was present. finally some peace and quiet. she chose a random stall and slopped on the toilet lid, exasperatedly exhaling. she meticulously rolled up her pant leg to examine her injury. it was not pretty to see. as a matter of fact, her ankle was severely swollen and a slight blue hue had appeared on the skin. if it was not broken, it was at least severely sprained. she could barely maintain a straight posture, which caused cramps on her hip, let alone move her foot. she sighed, irritated, and rested her back against the toilet tank, relaxing her entire body and basking in the short serenity she was offered.

a short-lived moment.

shouts, insults and banging erupted from the men's restroom which lasted for a good ten to fifteen minutes. she jumped, climbing onto the toilet seats, in case anyone peeked under the stall if, eventually, the fight carried on to the women's restroom. she disregarded the pain in her ankle as her survival instinct took over, and pressed her hands on the cheap walls to balance herself on one foot. worried she would be preyed on if she made a single noise, she stayed hidden until a triangle mask guard knocked on the door.

it was not until she regrouped with the men that she realised the extent of this madness. she was met with a barbaric sight. guards had their guns aimed at the players ordering them to keep their hands up and visible. they were drenched in blood, a lethal glint in their eyes as they trembled with fury as some had been disfigured and tumefied in the confrontation. player 124 was the most striking with his erratic breathing, his hair obscuring a part of his face, and his constricted cat-like pupils. his friend was nowhere to be seen, he had probably perished in the fight which explained player 124's belligerence.

money had these people walk on a leash.

after they were escorted back to the dormitory, [your name] directly headed to her bunk where she had been staying with dae-ho and jun-hee. she ignored the absurd allegations player 124 threw as they walked through the doors, keeping her head down. she did not want to draw any undesired attention.

dae-ho instantly laid his eyes on her fatigued figure. she was walking close to the bunks, hiding herself from prying eyes. she trudged, relying on the metallic bars for support. he hastily pushed players out of the way, stepped over the rigid mattresses spread on the floor and clumsily hopped over the ones still on the beds. he rushed to her side as she stopped in her tracks, finding it increasingly difficult to even graze the floor with her wounded foot. the man snuck his arm around her waist as she instinctively placed hers around his broad shoulders.

"my saviour..." she joked breathlessly, holding onto dae-ho's muscles. he furrowed his brows, concern spread all over his facial features.

"tell me they didn't hurt you?" he asked, his eyes begging for clarification.

"don't worry, i stayed hidden in the women's restroom." she explained. "thank god you weren't there, though..." she finished, looking up at dae-ho, who agreed.

he could not even imagine what she had witnessed back there. everyone was astounded when both groups came back from their trip to the restroom. during the games, the players were not explicitly pitted against one another. "red light, green light" was an individual game, the six-legged pentathlon formed alliances as cooperation was the core of this challenge, and "mingle" made these same groups depend on other teams for survival. now, players directly attempted to harm one another bare-handed or with makeshift weapons.

"let's not think about it. you need to rest. you've barely touched your food." he said as they reached one of the beds in the far right corner.

[your name] carelessly flopped on the rigid mattress, letting out a groan. she put her weight on her arms to get into a comfortable position. dae-ho had walked where he had negligently abandoned his food. a few pieces of stale and cold kimbap sat in the crumpled aluminium foil as some grains of dry rice had scattered on the stairs. her rolls were untouched, still warm thanks to the preservation of the foil since the cheap wrapping was sealed. dae-ho grabbed her meal and his scraps, dodging the players who were heading to the stairs and sitting down after player 47 hurried the red team to gather.

"here, eat your food. you need some nutrients to stay healthy." the man urged his friend. he unwrapped her kimbap rolls, grabbed the fork provided with the meal and held it in front of her mouth, encouraging her to eat. she obliged, sitting up against the cold metal and devouring the piece of tasteless food.

"there are some leftovers, too." he informed, stabbing another piece of kimbap. [your name] shook her head once she glanced at the half-eaten food on the bed.

"we don't get enough food, dae-ho. you should eat it all." she argued, pushing the leftovers towards him.

"tsk! you need it more than me! i ate enough anyways." he insisted frustrated, catching the attention of a couple of bystanders. the fork still loomed over her lips which she simply pushed to the side.

"just at least eat half of what you have left. ii makes me feel guilty, like i'm stealing from you..." she admitted as she ended up eating the rolls by hand.

"don't be silly. i'm offering. you need to be cared after, especially now. i'm just doing my job as a marine when a comrade is down." he explained, warmly smiling at her. after some convincing from the young woman, he eventually shoved a roll down his mouth, obnoxiously chewing.

"happy?" he said his mouth full as [your name] playfully gagged at the sight.

the red team was anxiously huddled up on the stairs, some of them uncontrollably fidgeting. the silence was unbearable as player 047 counted the people still alive. the older man had started over three times by now to guarantee an accurate answer. one of the teams would be unmistakably disadvantaged during the second vote considering the fight had killed five participants, an odd number. dae-ho and [your name] were sitting on the nearest bed, shoulder to shoulder. the man stared into space, unable to stop his shaky leg. he kept flexing and relaxing his fists continuously, deeply inhaling and exhaling to tame his racing thoughts. the young woman noticed his strange nervous demeanour, her eyes softening at the sight. she gently placed her hand over dae-ho's knee, startling the man. their eyes met, [your name] offered a friendly smile as she squeezed his leg in an attempt to ease his mind from his apprehensions. his shoulders instantly loosened as his chest warmed up from her sweet gesture. she was such a good friend.

player 47 finally stated the total.

forty-eight.

two contestants had died on their side.

they would win the vote by one (if nobody changed their mind by tomorrow, which was less likely to happen).

the bell rang throughout the sleeping quarters, announcing thirty minutes before lights out. player 047 insisted on tomorrow's vote's importance, one last chance to escape this place. the group vehemently agreed with him and attempted to conceal their happiness to avoid roughening up the opposite team. the blue team stood ferociously in their military-like rows, appearing more threatening than usual, surely because they were predominantly men, not the most trustworthy kind. their faces had completely dropped, and their snarky remarks were cut short. the opposite group slowly dispersed and disappeared into their bunks, throwing daggers on the red team's way.

ten minutes had passed, and a small group congregated around [your name]'s bed, who could not walk long distances, sharing their apprehensions. jung-bae was still optimistic, affirming they would win the next vote no matter what. gi-hun instantly pooped his bubbly and lugubriously described what would ensue in the next hour. the blue team would massacre them one at a time to increase the prize and guarantee the prolongation of the games. young-il suggested attacking them first. he highlighted their foolishness, firmly assuming the red team would sit and wait, clueless of their intentions.

a couple of players agreed with him, however, the point was not to kill before being killed but to put an end to the games, to get revenge for all those the masked people murdered due to their classism and for their amusement. the red team was indisputably physically disadvantaged, indeed elders and young women were considered a liability. young-il had proven himself to be an amazing fighter, humiliating thanos and his minion. jung-bae was a former marine, but his prime was in the past. as for dae-ho, he was young and also a retired marine, he had a rather strong build (not that [your name] had noticed his broad shoulders or his muscular chest when he was distracted). however, these three would still be outnumbered by the bloodthirsty and money-hungry players.

gi-hun knew it.

[your name] knew it.

everyone knew it.

they could not lie to themselves.

gi-hun did sound like some crazy conspiracy theorist, vaguely talking about an organisation whose desire was to see the participants butcher each other. after all, this made sense. they were here playing deadly children's games for money. for all they knew, the events could be broadcast all over korean billionaires' televisions. even worse, this could be a worldwide concept with the lower class population preyed on and manipulated into believing they had a choice, that it was simply the consequences of their actions.

"you're telling us the pink dudes are not the only people there? there are more fucked motherfuckers? like higher-ups? [your name] angrily asked, supporting herself on her elbows, after dae-ho asked where the people watching the games were. everyone looked up as gi-hun brought their attention to the ceiling, implying the people in charge were on the upper floors.

"fucking cowards..." she whispered under her breath.

gi-hun carried on with his detailed plan to overthrow their system, but the more she listened, the more sceptical she became. it was one thing to advocate for everyone's freedom and dismantle an illegal organisation, it was another to jeopardize the lives of innocents by keeping them unaware. quite frankly, they had little to no chance of defeating the oppressor either way. however, more people seemed on board than not, and regardless, gi-hun would not change his position. he was determined, but was he prepared?

the group dissipated, leaving dae-ho and [your name] by themselves. ten minutes remained on the clock. jun-hee stayed with player 149 who fussed over her baby's health as her son sat embarrassed by his mother's over-the-top behaviour. hyun-ju, young-mi and gyeong-seok sat on the staircase between bunks. young-mi was beyond consolable after gi-hun's statements, tears streaming down her cheeks as hyun-ju tightly hugged her. gyeong-seok stroked her back, the young girl reminding him of his toddler left at home. she was absolutely terrified. she had begged the blue team to be reasonable and spare everyone's life, in vain. gi-hun and the other men were discussing in the corner, surely coming up with a more effective strategy than hiding and stealing the guards' guns. they did not have much room to improve the plan since they had to act quick.

"so... this is like... the end, i guess." [your name] broke the silence, dae-ho whipping his head in her direction.

"what do you mean?" he asked, frowning.

"we're getting out of here." she elaborated as the man slowly nodded, not contributing much to the conversation. tension was palpable in the already oppressing atmosphere, this place knew what would happen tonight.

"are you scared?" she asked, her voice hardly above a whisper as she anxiously fidgeted with her fingers. dae-ho parted his lips as stammering murmurs came out. the man was contemplating lying, containing himself by putting on a brave facade, perhaps he also did not want her to perceive him as a wuss. however, he opted for honesty. she had been kind and caring towards him these past few days. she would not judge him for showing emotions.

"yes," he answered, gulping. "'i'm terrified..." he admitted, humourlessly chuckling.

she hummed in agreement, she was just as frightened. she was not only afraid for her own safety but her friends' too, particularly for dae-ho and jun-hee to whom she quickly grew attached. harbouring such strong feelings for people in such a short time would usually be judged pathetic, nay creepy. in this place, societal norms were pointless, and bonding over a shared life-threatening experience had a way of bringing people close. life was short and regrets were futile, befriending the pregnant woman who was ghosted by her shitty ex-boyfriend had been a great decision and falling in love with the gonggi expert was effortless. she would no longer listen to people's opinions and let them walk all over her. it was a bit heartbreaking that she realised it a little late though.

"now that i think about it, we never really got to know each other." she pointed out.

"what do you mean? i told you so much about my life. what more do you need to know?" he laughed, tucking his hair behind his ears.

"that's true, but i don't know anything basic about you. i know a lot about your sisters, some things from your childhood, but nothing else." she explained. "if we're gonna die, i wanna know everything about you." she mumbled, avoiding eye contact. however, dae-ho caught her words as a grin crept on his lips.

"i mean we have seven minutes left. should i start?"

from favourite food to favourite films, indirectly sharing cultures, the two got to know each other on a deeper level with superficial questions. nearing the end of the countdown, both were lying down, facing one another, making direct eye contact during brief silence. dae-ho's eyes were gentle, glimmering at the view. she glowed like the sun, the brightest star of all.

"okay, let's dive deeper." she hummed.

"oh, i'm scared." he joked as he feigned shivers all over his body. the woman giggled, playfully pushing his shoulder.

"why did you let your hair grow this length?" she wondered, twirling one deep black strand of dae-ho's hair around her finger. despite the lack of showers and hygiene products in this place, his hair remained soft. in fact, most people's hair had become greasy because of how much they sweat and the humidity. dae-ho's hand instinctively laid on top of [your name]'s to feel her closer. she cupped his face, her thumb softly rubbing his cheek.

"to have control over myself, i guess." he answered, unsure.

once again, the opportunity to lie grazed his mind. dae-ho was usually reticent to open up despite being such a joyful and light soul. he could be seen from miles away. people assumed he was an open book, not one nonchalant bone in his body. he just preferred to keep to himself despite his loudness. but he felt like he could tell anything to [your name].

"in the marine, they cut my hair really short and i had to keep it that way until i was discharged. growing it felt like a weight lifted off my shoulders. like moving on from this part of my life, you know." he admitted, unintentionally biting his lip. her eyes held compassion and pride. despite their current predicament, she could tell dae-ho had bounced back and gotten back on his feet.

all by himself.

she whipped her head up to glimpse towards the countdown. three minutes lights out.

"one last question for me. why did you come here?" she asked. until now, their financial distress had not been brought up.

[your name] had supposed the man had been scammed or had a gambling addiction, but dae-ho did not seem the type to gamble or spend money on ephemeral pleasures. perhaps he was in a similar situation as her with student loans. it was less likely the reason, she had learned in their conversation that he did not attend college, his father enrolling him in the marines right after he graduated high school.

"well... i never told anyone..." he began, his eyes avoiding her gaze in shame.

"you don't have to tell me anything." the young woman assured. "it's up to you." she gave a sympathetic smile.

"i know... i still want to tell you though." he admitted which gladdened her heart.

"so basically..." he started, sighing. "after i was discharged, i had to be institutionalised. it was court-mandated. i stayed there for over a year, i think? not sure. and they diagnosed me with pstd."

[your name] intently listened to his story without interrupting. she could not imagine how hard his life had been. dae-ho always had the impression he needed to prove himself to his surroundings, always bringing up his time as a marine in conversations, like it legitimised him. most of the time, players would roll their eyes or mock him. however, these people only wished they could be half the man he was. brave, benevolent and gentle.

"all my savings went to paying my medical bills. i had to take out a loan to pay the rest and it got me here. i couldn't pay rent anymore and there was no way i would reach out to my family. they don't know where i am to this day..." he shamefully mumbled the last sentence. "i got a loan and around five months ago shark loans went after me. they've been more persistent this month, saying if i couldn't pay we could find another arrangement like giving some bone marrow and a kidney." both of them grimaced at the gruesome proposal. "i was already living paycheck to paycheck, i can't even hold down a job..." he finished clenching his jaw.

she was left speechless.

"i'm so sorry—" she uttered as dae-ho interrupted her with a frustrated groan.

"aish, don't be. you didn't do anything." he retorted, scowling. "if anything you make this place bearable." he confessed, rubbing circles on the back of her hand. their faces were only a couple centimetres away, hot breath tickling their skin. [your name]'s lips parted as she struggled to come up with a reply. dae-ho caught on to her effort, seeing the gears turn in her brain. he let out a breathless chuckle and continued.

"i think i have time for one more question." he said as he peeked over his shoulder, the countdown indicated one minute. he had to be fast.

"i don't wanna have any regrets, since— you know... we could die any moment." he mumbled, biting his lower lip nervously. "when we get out of here, do you wanna go on a date with me?" he finally asked, directly staring into her widened eyes.

in truth, dae-ho had already developed a sort of infatuation for [your name] the night they kept watch in case of players attacking them. she had been a bit dubious about gi-hun's claims, why would anyone go on a killing rampage wen they were already stcuk in deadly games? the group was building barricades out of mattresses. some had been placed on the floor under the metal bed frames, much to jung-bae's dismay, and some propped up like shields. she was not the only one sceptical, young-il mirroring her doubts. gi-hun, restless, insisted on the nature of these games, and how the masked people got into people's heads, turning them into cold-blooded murderers. he had witnessed it with his own two eyes. young-il backed away as fast as he voiced his query.

that night, gi-hun and jung-bae's banter had woken up the young woman who rolled out of bed groaning. she harshly rubbed her eyes, softly slapping her cheeks to pump some adrenaline as she violently shook her head. she had begrudgingly opened her eyes, blinking and squinting to dissipate the wet blurry layer over her pupils. [your name] turned around to see if jun-hee was awake, but was met with an empty spot, only a messily spread thin blanket as the sole attestation of a prior presence. dae-ho was still sound asleep on the other side of the bunks, his lips slightly parted with soft snores barely noticeable.

"you're so noisy, you sound like pre-teen girls." she compared as she approached them on all fours. both had turned around and eyeballed her, offended by her comment.

"just go back to sleep, we are holding up here." jung-bae waved her off with a grin. gi-hun had merely nodded in agreement, skimming over the area.

"you're probably my only chance of getting out of here with just a scratch. i'd rather you not snooze off mid-game." she replied, sitting criss-cross behind them.

"a marine is always on the lookout, don't worry." jung-bae said roughly slapping her on the shoulder, which she grabbed and squeezed to ease the discomfort. gi-hun side-eyed his best friend and turned towards the young woman with a tight-lipped smile.

"just go to sleep, you need it." he had assured her, his face immediately dropping as his stare returned to the room.

"for all i know you're not immune to fatigue either. i won't be able to go back to sleep anyways, so at least let me be helpful." she retorted. jung-bae was about to argue but was interrupted by gi-hun who agreed after briefly staring at her.

she was left alone with her thoughts, her eyes kept flickering back and forth between the quiet room and the cash prize. she did not think of herself as a materialistic person. she did have a phone, but an old busted one, she enjoyed dressing well, but could not even afford fast fashion. when she could, she enjoyed treating herself to a good meal or a trip to the mall to window shop. even before her crippling debts, she would barely spend money on herself, too busy worrying over saving money or too guilty to spend it on herself.

look where it got her.

raking over two hundred billion wons.

risking her life playing children's games to pay her debt.

she felt pathetic.

she closed her eyes, relaxing her shoulders, relishing in the quietness and the light glow emanating from the golden piggy bank. she imagined herself in the streets of seoul, in a coffee shop scrolling through her phone with a pastry and her drink of choice. something plain but she had taken for granted when her life had not gone downhill yet. now, affording public transportation was a luxury, taking short and cold showers before heading to her job, always refraining from going to the grocery store at the end of the month after a quick peek at her bank account, surviving on oversalted instant soups and cheap eggs. with the prize money, [your name] would stop by any convenience store as the fancy took her. she would fill up her cart to the brim with fresh fruits and vegetables, no more of those frozen meals with ice left even after heating up the product thrice. she would high-quality hygiene products instead of these thin pads and unbranded soaps. she would not steal anymore, often hiding items in her pockets, hoping no one witnessed her act of thievery before heading for the cash register.

she was in dire need of stability.

the frugal life was necessary but tiresome.

she wanted more.

she wanted to live the dream.

she was torn away from her moment of peace when a large hand fell on her shoulder, her body tensing up.

"i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to scare you." dae-ho apologised, chuckling when [your name] whipped around to face him.

"you? scaring me? you wish." she huffed as she turned back to the room. her blasé countenance made him overthink their fleeting interaction, clearing his throat to get her attention back.

"it's my turn to keep watch. you can go back to sleep." he explained, crossing his legs with his back hunched and his forearms resting on his thighs.

"actually, i'd like to stay here. i can't sleep anyways." she nonchalantly responded, not even bothering to look at him. dae-ho ruminated on her answer. she was being so dismissive, unlike her behaviour with jun-hee, fooling around and talkative. was he making her uncomfortable?

"then... i hope you don't mind if i stay with you." he confidently answered.

"i mean... i wanted to be alone." she slowly replied, pursing her lips. "but, i wouldn't mind the company." she admitted, an imperceptible grin hanging on the corner of her lips.

"that's settled then. let's be alone together." he beamed, straightening his posture. his enthusiasm was contagious which earned him a smile.

the buzzing from the light, their soft breathing and the agitated movements of the sleeping players were all that could be heard. plain silence. neither comfortable nor unbearable. no tension. no awkwardness. absolute silence. both in their own world.

dae-ho drummed his fingers on his knees, goggling at the piggy bank. no one could pry their eyes off the voluminous container and he was not an exception. dae-ho had never seen such a huge amount of money in his entire life, except when he would watch these american films about money heists his father owned. dae-ho was not used to wealth, being the youngest of five siblings. his family was not poor, far from it, they were upper-middle-class. his father earned enough for his mother to be a stay-at-home, and he attended an all-boy private school with tutoring lessons once a week. they were well-off, but his family was respectful and, therefore, never flaunted their wealth around. however, dae-ho always received his sister's hand-me-down clothes, he did not have any toys as his father believed they were too distracting, and throwing a birthday party after the age of twelve was out of the question. if it had not been for his sisters, he was pretty sure his childhood would have been entirely morose.

"what are you gonna do with your share of the money?" he absentmindedly asked out of the blue. she raised her eyebrows in surprise and pondered.

"uhm... i haven't really thought about it to be honest. obviously, paying my debts. but then, i have no idea." she said, shrugging. "i'm probably just gonna live life the same, minus the struggle for rent and food." she humourlessly laughed.

"what about you?" she returned the question, finally looking at him. dae-ho was still staring at the money looming over them. she had planted her elbows on her knees and her cheeks were pressed against the palms of her hands.

"oh, me?" he said, unexpecting the interest she took in him. "well, paying my debts too, but i always wanted to move to the countryside. buy a house somewhere quiet. maybe start growing my vegetables." he explained, lost in thought.

"i would like to start a family too." he confessed, he lowered his head with a dreamy smile plastered on his face.

"didn't know you were that much of a family guy." she replied. "i mean, it makes sense, you're close to your sisters." she hummed, nodding.

"i love kids. i've always idealised the perfect family." he revealed, sighing.

dae-ho had always craved his father's attention. just the bare minimum of tenderness from the stoic man he idolised. he would participate in extra-curricular activities he did not particularly enjoy such as wrestling just to be noticed in a positive light. he eventually gave up on the idea of a close bond with the patriarch, indeed focusing on healing the toxic mindset pushed on him over the years under his family's roof.

dae-ho wanted to be a better man than his father.

a better parental figure.

he wanted to give what he had always craved to his future son.

"i am sure you'll be an amazing dad, dae-ho."

his heart sunk to the pit of his stomach, his palms were damp and his breath was stuck in his throat. she patted his back in a friendly manner, with a tight-lipped smile thrown his way.

validation.

all he longed for given to him by a girl he had met the very same day.

was it that easy? was his father just that callous?

he profusely blinked to prevent the sea of tears from streaming down his face. dae-ho harshly rubbed his eyes, clenching his jaw to choke down the coming sobs. he would not allow himself to be vulnerable, especially in front of a stranger, let alone a woman. he had to be tougher.

but how could he when such a random act of kindness touched his inner child?

"no, i'm fine. i— umh— thanks..." he stammered, clearing his throat she checked on him. "it just means a lot to me." he finished, locking eyes with her. a hint of the young boy he once was showed her his deep gratitude.

back on the shared mattress, [your name] was left speechless. she was stumbling on her words because of the bomb dae-ho had dropped. dae-ho frowned as her answer never came.

he screwed up and had misinterpreted her behaviour around him for something more than friendship. to her, it was just casual. why did he have to be so selfish? he should have kept this information to himself. no matter the circumstances, no one developed feelings for someone in such a short period. confessing before the fight was reckless, his thoughts would be stuck on the woman who was about to reject him. how stupid of him.

"just forget what i— humph!" he tried to excuse himself but was interrupted by [your name] crashing her lips on his in a passionate kiss.

the kiss was clumsy and rough as teeth accidentally clashed, an unpleasant sensation. it was out of character for both of them, but a way to let out some pent-up frustration. one simple kiss that turned into a makeout session, blatantly ignoring their surroundings and curious eyes. her hands clutched to the collar of his dirty shirt as his hands grabbed her hips, pulling her as close as humanly possible. they wanted to freeze in time, stuck in this warmth for eternity. regardless, the eerie voice brought them back to the harsh reality, announcing lights out. their friends were already in bed, hugging the thin blanket to their necks, anxiously waiting to go through with the plan.

the couple pulled away and gazed into each other's eyes.

they felt like they belonged.

a puzzle and its last missing piece reunited at last.

beautiful and complete.

"we'll have to plan that date later, i guess." she whispered as he hummed. every player around had already regained their bunk, people still glaring from across the room at the rival team.

"i have to go..." he mumbled and reluctantly stood up. a hand grabbed his wrist preventing him from getting away, forcing him to sit back on the mattress.

"stay safe." [your name] whispered, concern washing over her face.

"i will." he swore.

dae-ho captured her lips in a brief but severe kiss. it was a simple peck filled with explosive emotions. it was a promise. it was the hope for a bright future. it was determination.

"you too." dae-ho whispered back. "don't ever leave your hiding spot, even when the fight ends." dae-ho instructed. he was hesitant to leave her side but eventually walked over to his bed. he looked over his shoulder one last time, worriedly chewing his cheeks as he forced out a smile to reassure the woman who reciprocated the effort.

the room darkened, merely illuminated by the artificial hue of the two letters on the floor.

they would be in for one hell of a night.

cries, wails and shrieks echoed through the slaughterhouse. the hunt had begun and the predators were bloodthirsty, attacking without hesitation, unbothered by the stench of the poor lambs' blood. the place was wrecked as bunkbeds were knocked down on the floor, pillows stabbed and metal poles used as weapons. corpse pilled up, both from the murderers and their victims. the perks of being killed by a guard were the prompt death and the efficient technique employed. a bullet to the head or the heart and your final breath was barely taken.

it was a massacre.

[your name] was hidden under her bed alone. she had her hands tightly clasped over her mouth, holding her breath to not be detected by the menace. no one could hear her gasps due to the din, but she could not lower her guard under any circumstances. her eyes were firmly shut to protect herself from this horrifying spectacle, feeling the intense pounding of her heartbeat resonating in her chest. already forced to listen to the cries of agony, she did not need to witness it too

shouts came from above as the bed loudly squeaked. two players were fighting. she felt her body tremble with each blow hurled at the man pinned down by his assailant. the blue player pushed his victim to the ground, the man had a long gash across his face and was unable to stand up. [your name] and the player locked eyes for a brief second before the latter was harshly grabbed by the hair and violently rammed into the metal of the bunk bed. she could not handle the sight and hid her face again. as the helpless cries of the victim ceased, she peeked through her fingers only to be faced by a hollow stare and teeth jammed into his gum.

she began to hyperventilate.

she was frightened, convinced she would be next.

the young woman was completely isolated from her group. apparently, their strategy would be more successful if people trained in combat were paired together. therefore, dae-ho was with jung-bae, gyeong-seok with hyun-ju, and gi-hun with young-il. the more vulnerable players stayed together, jun-hee was with young-mi, and, as expected, yong-sik clung to his mother (even if he had any fighting experience, geum-ja would have forbidden him from involving himself in this grand rebellion).

dae-ho had pleaded with gi-hun to stay by [your name]'s side in case a mishap happened. however, the older man reasoned with him, swearing the young woman would be safe as her bed was secluded from the others, insisting that, if they wanted to achieve the revolt, following the plan to the tee was crucial. dae-ho eventually dropped it and reluctantly agreed.

he would soon realise it was a great mistake.

[your name] felt a strong grip on her bad ankle and was dragged from her hiding spot. she tried to hold onto the floor with her sweaty palms, digging her nails in, to no avail. she screeched at the top of her lungs from terror as the pain in her ankle intensified. a last resort to save her life, the young woman threw her arms around the metal pole supporting the bunk bed. her assailant flopped on her back and yanked her arms away from the pole. she yelled for the person to get off her as she was flipped on her back, her body forcefully slammed on the ground.

player 124.

a bloodied fork in his hand and a hysterical glint in his eyes.

his face was dripping with blood.

not his.

nam-gyu straddled her, limiting her movements. he raised the fork above his head and aimed for her stomach. she dodged his blow by rolling on her flank, crossing her arms around her body to protect her organs. the fork smashed to the ground, slightly bending due to the force used. the player raised his weapon again, but adrenaline rushed through her veins. she sat up and struck his torso with both forearms, injuring his airway and resulting in a fit of coughs. as he stumbled back, she took it as a chance to crawl away from the fight. her back was met with another bunk bed, she rapidly flipped on her knees and grabbed the metal bars to pull herself up. she slowly climbed the row of beds to escape nam-gyu, pushing on her wounded ankle despite the ache.

nam-gyu quickly got on his feet and lunged at the woman, seizing her by the back of her jacket, and tossing her on the floor once again. the ferocious man straddled her with more force than before, this time aiming for the jugular. [your name] blocked the first blow by shielding her face with her arms. the second blow stabbed through the palm of her right hand, the tines poking through, just mere millimetres away from her nose.

the fork was ripped away from her hand, causing severe bleeding, as player 124 was struck in the head from behind. she grimaced, the pain was intolerable, moreover, she was further weakened. the young woman clenched her hand into a fist to restrict the gushing flow. she was panting with the exertion, limping to the dark corner of the arena, hoping to blend in with the shadows. she had considered going through with climbing the bunk bed until she saw payers knocking them down like dominoes, crushing players. she quickly gave up on the idea and fled the scene.

her eyes were set on her target. despite the excessive flashing lights, they would not flutter. she limped to the corner, invisible to the metal players, her clenched fist close to her chest which stained her already filthy white top a dark red shade. [your name] almost reached shelter when a muscular arm snuck around her throat, tightly squeezing which obstructed her airways. her hands instinctively grasped the limb, attempting to pull it away from her neck. her head was about to explode like a balloon as her eyes bulged out of her skull. suddenly, a sharp ache shot through her right thigh. she dug her nails into her assailant's arm, but his grip only tightened. she forced her chin under his forearm and brutally bit his exposed skin. a deafening cry pierced through her ears, tasting blood on her tongue.

the lights turned back on as guards barged into the arena, one of them shooting his weapon into the ceiling to startle the players. her attacker let go of her, pressing his hand onto his fresh wound as she collapsed on the floor. her leg muscles convulsed, unable to move. the weapon had drilled a deep hole into her leg, perforating her femoral artery.

she was about to bleed to death.

two guards approached them and ordered them to surrender. her attacker complied as the guard backed him up against the wall, the second guard threatened the harmless woman with his gun.

"don't shoot... i'm alive..." she begged, her voice sore as tears streamed down her cheeks. the guard simply shoved the barrel of his gun to her face. he would not hesitate to shoot a bullet between her eyes if he deemed her a danger.

nobody knew of the trouble she was in, her group believed she was hidden under the bed, out of danger. therefore, the revolt began. as he was lying on his back, having witnessed the player's penchant for murder, dae-ho had his mind stuck on [your name]'s well-being. he knew she was secure, sheltered from any risk, but she had to be scared.

the rebellion broke out. a bullet through the brain and the guard intimidating her dropped to the ground. bullets flew around as panic coursed through the guards' veins. indeed, they had their fair share of traumatising experiences working this job, in addition to their upbringing which clarified their career choice, however, players rising up in revolt was out of the ordinary. the first guard turned on his heels, taking cover behind a flipped bedframe, and instantly fired shots in her teammates' direction. [your name] was really close to the retaliation, terrified of getting shot by a lost bullet.

amidst the chaos, she wondered if anyone cared about where she was. did jun-hee notice her absence? would anyone go look for her?

the rebels fiercely resisted, fearless of the endless possibilities of this fight. dae-ho knocked out one of the guards who had restrained jung-bae. his act of bravery was short-lived, frozen in place, racked with crippling fear, cowering behind the staircase, unable to process the present. dead bodies and detonating noises triggering him.

the uncanny voice ordered the soldiers to retreat in an oddly sweet tone. the soldiers were outnumbered, having lost too many of their colleagues, more would go down if they stayed. the entrance doors slowly closed, and soldiers rushed to safety, except for their superior who had been too focused on emptying his firearm on those he considered vermines to save himself.

beginner's mistake.

well...

he was still a kid after all.

they took the chief guard, hyun-ju disabled their surveillance cameras and proceeded to collect the guns and magazines scattered around the room. dae-ho let out three brief breaths to cool his overheating mind down and followed gi-hun's directives.

"everyone! don't be scared. gather around, please! we're not trying to hurt you!" gi-hun yelled as jung-bae backed him up.

the room fell somehow quiet, [your name] took it as a chance to make her presence known.

"help... help! p-please— somebody, help!" she gathered her remaining strength to implore.

hyun-ju whipped her head towards the commotion and bolted to its source. she gasped at the sight and threw her rifle on the ground, dropping to her knees on the woman's side. she was a leader at heart, being a former sergeant first class in one of the special forces brigades of the republic of korea and all, it was second nature to her. a little bit of blood was nothing as she had witnessed worse in her time in the military. however, her friend's frail condition broke her heart, but hyun-ju did not let it transpire.

she assessed the problem as [your name] uncontrollably wept, furthering the pain as her leg jerked with the added tenseness. she judged her attitude to be puerile and childish, she was just relieved someone had bothered to come and rescue her.

"you're going to be okay, [your name]. everything will be fine." hyun-ju comforted, fondly stroking her hair.

hyun-ju jumped on her feet and ran to the beds used as barricades.

"someone help me! we have a player down!" she yelled, beckoning to her allies.

"coming!" dae-ho shouted back. after the lack of assistance he provided during the rebellion, he wanted to be as helpful as possible. oblivious to the sight he would be confronted by.

his pupils shrunk.

his breath stuck in his throat.

his mouth was agape.

his hands shook.

"we are gonna flip her on her back." hyun-ju instructed, crouching on the young woman's side.

thousand words to be spoken, none suitable to the crisis. he was dumbstruck with panic, loathing injuries and blood, he was confronted with such a stomach-churning sight. he should have relied on his gut feeling and blatantly disobeyed gi-hun's orders. rage bubbled in the pit of his stomach, aimed at no one but himself.

naivete had struck as trustworthiness was granted.

an innocent victim paid the price.

"right now, dae-ho!" she ordered once she noticed his unresponsive state. the severity of her tone startled him and regained his composure. dae-ho rushed into action, throwing his weapon and kneeling on the opposite side of [your name]'s body.

"it's going to hurt." hyun-ju informed the girl who kept crying. she counted down to three as dae-ho carefully placed his hands underneath the body. they flipped the woman on her back, landing in the man's embrace, as she shrieked from the ache.

"[your name]... it's dae-ho, i'm here." he weakly stated, his lips quivering. overwhelming nausea flowing through his stomach as he held onto his own tears.

"you're gonna be fine, hyun-ju knows what she is doing." he reassured, unsure. she finally opened her eyes, diving into dae-ho's gentle stare. he forced out a tender tight-lipped smile, a semblance of optimism. a sense of familiarity.

"raise her leg a little, i need to stop the bleeding." hyun-ju instructed. she removed her jacket and ripped the sleeve up to use it as a bandage. he lifted her leg like a fine priceless china, but she broke into pieces.

"dae-ho, you're shaking." hyun-ju warned, peeking at him through her eyelashes. he jerked his gaze to the woman, patiently waiting for him. dae-ho swallowed hard and corrected his posture, mumbling an unnecessary apology.

[your name] undeniably required professional medical aid, but for now, hyun-ju had handled the excessive bleeding. after her significant blood loss, it was a miracle she was still conscious, swimming in the crimson river that had steadily poured for a couple minutes.

"we have to move her." hyun-ju informed in a monotone, after tying the dirty piece of cloth around the deep gash. "carry her to the bed where the others hid." she ordered. dae-ho rushed into action and scooped her up, his arm under her knees and back.

"tell me if i'm hurting you." he stated. her head was leaning against his broad shoulder, her tears damped his shoulderblade, and her low irregular breathing tickling his neck alarmed him.

gi-hun beckoned to hyun-ju when she entered his line of sight, standing in stunned silence as dae-ho followed behind carrying [your name]. victim of his recklessness in overthrowing the masked people.

you could have heard a pin drop if it was not for the injured woman's whimpers. jun-hee, who had moved from her hiding spot, shouted her friend's name and scurried towards them, holding her pregnant belly.

"what happened?!" jun-hee frantically asked, grasping her friend's unwounded hand.

"i w-was attacked." she feebly uttered. dae-ho laid her on the rigid mattress, placing her head on the cleanest pillow.

"who attacked you?" dae-ho continued, anger boiling within.

"player 124." she stated, dae-ho clenched his jaw at the revelation. despite never interacting with the man, he was familiar with his despicable behaviour. "he pulled me from under the bed. and then some other guy did that to my leg." she explained.

dae-ho skimmed over the crowd, his eyes locking on nam-gyu. a coward hiding behind the beds after the killing rampage he went on. the ex-marine aggressively got up, marching towards player 124, driven by outrage, but was inevitably stopped by jun-hee.

"it doesn't matter, dae-ho." [your name] coughed out.

"it matters to me, [your name]." he insisted as he kneeled before her.

"i'm alive, and you're here. that's all i care about." she breathed out, reaching for his hand. he swallowed and tenderly reciprocated the gesture, bringing the back of her hand to his mouth for a kiss.

dae-ho gazed into her eyes, afraid she would vanish into thin air if he tore them away from her. he was memorising every single one of her features. from the moles scattered across her face to the pores. from the eyebags to the shape of her mouth that he longed to kiss one more time despite its dry skin.

she was the embodiment of perfection.

"dae-ho, come here!" jung-bae beckoned. the rebels formed into a line once they collected all the weapons and magazines spread around the room, displaying them on a wood plank. these had already been used, and hardly enough to fend off the troops they rebelled against, how were they supposed to reach the headquarters against an entire army with these?

dae-ho began to get up when [your name]'s grip tightened, stopping him in his tracks.

"don't go, please." she pleaded, tears welling up. the frazzled woman was desperate.

"i have to." he curtly answered.

it was his duty.

"no you don't!" she retorted. "this is a suicide mission. gi-hun is out of his mind if he thinks any of this will work." she harshly said, a tone of urgency slipping through. a small group against trained snipers, their chances of success were slim.

"i have to protect you." he claimed. "we'll get out of her and you'll get the medical help you need in a hospital." he assured, letting go of her hand.

"i promise you, i'll come back." he swore before joining the rebels, ignoring her pleas. an easy lie to give, short and sweet. nothing was set in stone. their fate as treacherous as their life beyond the island.

dae-ho was lined up with the other men, he was handed a weapon he clumsily held, scrutinising it in puzzlement, clueless and afraid. his jumpiness betrayed his confident facade.

jun-hee was sat next to an emotionally distressed [your name], caressing her hand as she quietly sobbed. the pregnant woman had dissuaded her ex-boyfriend from joining the fight with a simple nod when the latter seemed to consider gi-hun's request. dae-ho had willingly chosen to endanger his life despite [your name]'s desperate pleas. jun-hee believed he should have stayed by her side to soothe her pain. the injured woman persevered but was not spared from affliction. in the hope of escaping this prison, dae-ho had selflessly chosen to risk it all but had selfishly joined the revolt to prove something to himself. most players lacked the courage to even contemplate fighting for anything other than their own gain, yet dae-ho continued to see himself as a coward.

"he is gonna be okay." jun-hee said, unconvinced with her lie.

"don't lie to me, please." [your name] retorted in a faltering tone.

after hyun-ju's brief demonstration on how to operate the rifles, the group headed for battle. dae-ho glanced one last time over his shoulder, jun-hee weakly waved at him and [your name] was indiscernible behind the makeshift barricades. although her feeble state justified her lack of effort to bid her final goodbyes, she did not want her last memory of dae-ho to be sorrowful.

around half an hour had passed, ear-shattering bullets were fired in the colourful labyrinth and ricocheted on the walls startling the players shielded in the sleeping quarters. yong-sik was shivering on the floor, his eyes focused on his shoes. on the staircase, young-mi clung to geum-ja who was doing her best to reassure her. jun-hee was still by her friend's side whose blood loss had drastically increased. the mattress had absorbed most of the liquid that oozed from the gash, and the excess dripped on the floor forming a sticky puddle. her heartbeats had slowed down and her skin felt cooler. her complexion was sickly. her gaze was unfocused, her vision blurry from tears as well as the haemorrhage.

"i need water..." [your name] voiced, her throat burning from her cough.

"i know." jun-hee replied, her lips quivering. "i'm sorry."

the group had roamed around the room, seeking help from other participants, wondering if they had any spare water or a clean piece of cloth to dry her sweaty forehead. some shared remorseful looks and apologies as others, such as player 100, could not care less about the girl's well-being.

"why don't you let her die, already? put her out of her misery!" the old man shouted, pointing his finger at geum-ja who had kindly approached the group of men.

"you greedy scumbag! don't you have some empathy?!" the old woman yelled louder, anger laced in her voice.

"when she dies, it will be more money for us." he spat cruelly.

"you're probably gonna be the first one shot when those guards come back, you asshole!" geum-ja countered at player 100's face before getting pulled away by her son.

in a grim atmosphere, the group sat on the staircases by [your name]'s bed. any remaining hope had vanished, however, geum-ja could not bear to wallow in sorrow. she cheerfully turned around and raised her fists.

"when they get us out of there and you're out of the hospital, you should join us for dinner." the old woman suggested, referring to jun-hee and [your name]. as no one spoke up, she resumed.

"hyun-ju and young-mi are already coming. the more the merrier as they say." she grinned at the weakened woman who blinked, her lips apart.

"you can even invite dae-ho. such a brave young man." she praised clasping her hands.

the young woman faintly smiled. for a brief moment, she entertained the idea.

laughter echoed through the dining room, everyone passed food around, enjoying the delicious dinner geum-ja had cooked. dae-ho was by her side, fingers intertwined as his thumb stroked the back of her hand, chortling at one of yong-sik's jokes. she and young-mi were gushing over jun-hee's newborn (girl or boy [your name] was spoiling that baby rotten). hyun-ju was done with her transition, glowing as her true self. geum-ja told stories about her childhood on the couch and showed yong-sik's baby pictures. the latter whined behind his mother with flushed cheeks as she insisted on the importance of capturing every moment before they grow up to be ungrateful brats. losing track of time, dae-ho and [your name] eventually left the house around midnight to get home to their shared apartment. a rather small apartment, but it was home. their home.

the dream.

but it was only a dream.

"i-i don't w-wanna die." she blurted out, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"don't say nonsense, you're not gonna die." geum-ja berated. "you're a strong girl, and we're getting out soon." she lingered waiting for the group to back her up. once they noticed her expectant glare, they agreed with the old woman, wavering tones and unconvinced sentences. good intentions but an awkward execution. it was the thought that counted.

an unnerving silence arose cut by [your name] whimpers. they were worn out, plagued by the sweet fragrance of death and the melody of misery. the shots fired in the distance as the sole sign of their friends' state until dae-ho barged into the room like a madman murmuring something inaudible like a mantra.

"dae-ho..." [your name] whispered as she heard his trembling voice. what was he doing here?

yong-sik carefully approached the crazed man, observing his behaviour. dae-ho had flung himself at multiple corpses, rummaging through their pockets.

"dae-ho, what happened?" yong-sik tentatively asked. "why are you back by yourself?" he continued after being met with shuddery breaths.

"magazines!" dae-ho blurted, holding up one of the items. "get the magazines from those bastards' pockets. hurry!" he urged and rushed towards another corpse.

the former marine was drowning under the pressure, fully submerged by his mission. bearing the burden of the revolt on his shoulders. his eyes scanned the area, dae-ho was erratic and dizzy, repeating one thing.

magazines in pockets. magazines in pockets. magazines in pockets.

"dae-ho—" [your name] repeated above a whisper as she was taken by a coughing fit.

geum-ja took it upon herself to chase after dae-ho, no longer capable of witnessing the young woman's suffering. she struggled to keep up with his pace, scurrying after him. dae-ho eventually stopped running to count the magazines he had collected, giving her some time to reason with him.

"dae-ho, my boy. you're killing yourself." she scowled, skimming over the young man's a. her apprehension was gone in one ear and out the other as continued to rummage through the magazines. his ears were ringing, filtering out any outside noise.

yong-sik returned with half a dozen magazines, placing them in the pile formed in a green jacket.

"this was all i could find." he informed as dae-ho nodded. his skin grew paler by the second, his sanity gradually declining. geum-ja reached for his arm to prevent him from disappearing into the labyrinth again, to no avail. his mind was dark and foggy, he was unable to see farther than his task.

"kang dae-ho!" jun-hee angrily shouted from the barricade. the man froze like a deer caught in the headlights, her outburst ripping him away from his dissociative state. before she could go on, something in the background caught dae-ho's eyes, he dropped the magazines and ran past a confounded geum-ja and yong-sik.

despite the stinging sensation in her hand, the piercing pain in her leg and her aching muscles, [your name] had gathered her remaining strength to roll off the bed, ignoring young-mi's alarmed voice. she fell on the cold floor with a loud thud. she had landed in a puddle of her own blood, splashing some on her face as well as on young-mi's already dirty shoes. her physical appearance was the least of her worries. young-mi dropped to her side, grabbing her friend's elbow to usher her back to bed. [your name] harshly brushed her off and crawled towards the centre of the room. she collapsed several times under her weight, barely capable of dragging her body. she was met with stunned stares, disgust or disinterest from the same people who caused her harm. blood gushed from her wound, leaving a glistening red trail behind her.

she had pushed herself to exhaustion, unable to crawl any more. the young woman tried to stand up but fell onto the floor.

she was giving up.

dae-ho fell to her side and cradled her to his chest. he cupped her face in his sweaty hand, unnoticed by [your name] who was drenched in cold sweat and drained of energy.

"you came back." she coughed out, looking up at him through her hooded eyelids.

"i'm so sorry, i'm so sorry, sorry, sorry," he profusely apologised, uncontrollably weeping, tightening his grip on her sickly frame. "i should've stayed with you." he cried.

"you're here now, that's all that matters." she muttered, her chest hardly rising.

"dae-ho?" she called out weakly. the man hummed, sniffling.

"where are we g-going for our d-date?" she sweetly asked, as dae-ho erupted in a flow of tears. he let out a trembling breath before describing what he had planned for their first date.

"i was thinking of taking you to this korean barbecue near my apartment— or a picnic... i just want to spend the evening with you." he confessed as she lightly smiled, picturing the cosy evening. just the two of them, sitting close to one another, eating some smoked veggies and meat, relishing in each other's presence.

"i was thinking of bringing you flowers. a really big bouquet, because you deserve the most— and with the money i could have bought the most beautiful one for you." he choked out.

"tulips." she whispered. "i love tulips."

"i would have brought you tulips." his voice wavering as he sniffled.

"then, we will stroll hand in hand around town, just chatting— just hearing the sound of your voice makes me happy." he faintly chuckled as [your name] weakly grinned.

"we will sit on a bench, i will place my arm around your shoulders." he said as the young woman's head leaned against his chest.

"then, if i don't get cold feet... i will kiss you. and i will make the first move this time." he murmured waiting for her reaction.

nothing.

nothing came.

"[your name]?" he asked, slightly shaking her body to wake her up.

she was not dozing off.

"[your name]?!" he let out a gut-wrenching scream as he shook her body.

she was gone.

hyun-ju barged into the room yelling for dae-ho, her deep voice resonating throughout the room, only stopping in her tracks after catching a glimpse of the scene. dae-ho was wailing, his eyes were tightly shut as her empty ones stared into space, his hand firmly pressed to her cheek, his lips on her forehead as he rocked his body back and forth. his lungs scorched, his head reeled, his heart broke, he felt nauseous. she had passed away in his arms, helpless as he held her mutilated body.

so much wasted potential.

the ambition of making a name for herself gone, the determination to prove herself as a foreign student fading, the ashes of the past never reincarnating in a magnificent phoenix, instead flying away with a gust of wind. nevertheless, she was not to pity. she was free. free from the horror of this world. free from unrealistic expectations. free from her misery. her friends were still there, in this hellhole, traumatised and exhausted, drowning in debts. now mourning a loved one.

dae-ho lost someone who would have undoubtedly been the love of his life, the one to offer him the respect and tenderness he deserved, the one he would have desired the spend the rest of his pathetic existence with.

his reason to persevere.

"get down on the floor." the square mask guard ordered, firing his weapon into the ceiling as all participants obliged.

the pink guards barged into the room, their guns aligned to their line of vision. each guard loomed over a player, threatening to kill them at any wrong move. coffins were brought right after the soldiers and they proceeded to gather all the corpses, starting with the players. a guard raised his weapon at dae-ho, who had not taken notice of the chaos ensuing, and if he did, he did not bother to acknowledge it.

"let go of the body." the guard demanded. the grief-stricken man was unresponsive, too distraught by his loss, refusing to leave her side.

the guard turned over his colleagues, giving them inaudible directives. two circle mask guards moved towards the devastated man and ripped her lifeless body from his embrace. dae-ho fought back, alternating between shouting insults at the guards and begging them.

"no, no, no— please don't take her away you fucking assholes! no! please, please— oof!" he implored, clutching onto her lifeless form. the soldier hit him square on the head with the back of his rifle, dae-ho stumbled face-first onto the floor as his nose bled. the soldier pressed the barrel of the gun to his temple.

the two circle mask guards had grabbed [your name] by her ankles and from under her armpits, her body slouched in their negligent grip. they laid the body in the coffin, dae-ho's final glimpse at the woman before she was no more than a past memory.

the man's lips quivered as he broke out into tears. jun-hee pulled him into an embrace, her sobs matching his until they could no longer cry, tired and devastated.

he failed.

he failed to protect her.

he failed to bring the magazines to hyun-ju.

maybe his father was right.

after all...

... he was a failure.

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