#Wind Energy Conversion System

[black-rose-writings]

In terms of Christmas gifts, dad has a really poor taste.

(he gave us all covid)

[summersfirstsnow]

There's also how weird they are about whales. Like the "wind turbines are bad for whales" thing being used to shutdown a conversation about wind energy. It's the what-about-ism thing, going "well what about how wind turbines also impact whales checkmate libs."

The point isn't to actually have a conversation about offshore wind turbines and whales, it's to distract from the conversation where reasonable humans are pointing out that there are a lot of environmental impacts of fossil fuel burning and extraction.

P.S. Here's a good and accessible article comparing the impacts on wildlife of wind power and oil drilling: https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20250129-oil-vs-wind-which-is-worse-for-birds-and-whales

objectively the funniest moral panic to come from conservatives is "alternative energy is bad because birds might fly into the wind turbines". birds, which notoriously have no other man-made obstacles, such as the window

[reasonsforhope]

No paywall version here.

"Two and a half years ago, when I was asked to help write the most authoritative report on climate change in the United States, I hesitated...

In the end, I said yes, but reluctantly. Frankly, I was sick of admonishing people about how bad things could get. Scientists have raised the alarm over and over again, and still the temperature rises. Extreme events like heat waves, floods and droughts are becoming more severe and frequent, exactly as we predicted they would. We were proved right. It didn’t seem to matter.

Our report, which was released on Tuesday, contains more dire warnings. There are plenty of new reasons for despair. Thanks to recent scientific advances, we can now link climate change to specific extreme weather disasters, and we have a better understanding of how the feedback loops in the climate system can make warming even worse. We can also now more confidently forecast catastrophic outcomes if global emissions continue on their current trajectory.

But to me, the most surprising new finding in the Fifth National Climate Assessment is this: There has been genuine progress, too.

I’m used to mind-boggling numbers, and there are many of them in this report. Human beings have put about 1.6 trillion tons of carbon in the atmosphere since the Industrial Revolution — more than the weight of every living thing on Earth combined. But as we wrote the report, I learned other, even more mind-boggling numbers. In the last decade, the cost of wind energy has declined by 70 percent and solar has declined 90 percent. Renewables now make up 80 percent of new electricity generation capacity. Our country’s greenhouse gas emissions are falling, even as our G.D.P. and population grow.

In the report, we were tasked with projecting future climate change. We showed what the United States would look like if the world warms by 2 degrees Celsius. It wasn’t a pretty picture: more heat waves, more uncomfortably hot nights, more downpours, more droughts. If greenhouse emissions continue to rise, we could reach that point in the next couple of decades. If they fall a little, maybe we can stave it off until the middle of the century. But our findings also offered a glimmer of hope: If emissions fall dramatically, as the report suggested they could, we may never reach 2 degrees Celsius at all.

For the first time in my career, I felt something strange: optimism.

And that simple realization was enough to convince me that releasing yet another climate report was worthwhile.

Something has changed in the United States, and not just the climate. State, local and tribal governments all around the country have begun to take action. Some politicians now actually campaign on climate change, instead of ignoring or lying about it. Congress passed federal climate legislation — something I’d long regarded as impossible — in 2022 as we turned in the first draft.

[Note: She's talking about the Inflation Reduction Act and the Infrastructure Act, which despite the names were the two biggest climate packages passed in US history. And their passage in mid 2022 was a big turning point: that's when, for the first time in decades, a lot of scientists started looking at the numbers - esp the ones that would come from the IRA's funding - and said "Wait, holy shit, we have an actual chance."]

And while the report stresses the urgency of limiting warming to prevent terrible risks, it has a new message, too: We can do this. We now know how to make the dramatic emissions cuts we’d need to limit warming, and it’s very possible to do this in a way that’s sustainable, healthy and fair.

The conversation has moved on, and the role of scientists has changed. We’re not just warning of danger anymore. We’re showing the way to safety.

I was wrong about those previous reports: They did matter, after all. While climate scientists were warning the world of disaster, a small army of scientists, engineers, policymakers and others were getting to work. These first responders have helped move us toward our climate goals. Our warnings did their job.

To limit global warming, we need many more people to get on board... We need to reach those who haven’t yet been moved by our warnings. I’m not talking about the fossil fuel industry here; nor do I particularly care about winning over the small but noisy group of committed climate deniers. But I believe we can reach the many people whose eyes glaze over when they hear yet another dire warning or see another report like the one we just published.

The reason is that now, we have a better story to tell. The evidence is clear: Responding to climate change will not only create a better world for our children and grandchildren, but it will also make the world better for us right now.

Eliminating the sources of greenhouse gas emissions will make our air and water cleaner, our economy stronger and our quality of life better. It could save hundreds of thousands or even millions of lives across the country through air quality benefits alone. Using land more wisely can both limit climate change and protect biodiversity. Climate change most strongly affects communities that get a raw deal in our society: people with low incomes, people of color, children and the elderly. And climate action can be an opportunity to redress legacies of racism, neglect and injustice.

I could still tell you scary stories about a future ravaged by climate change, and they’d be true, at least on the trajectory we’re currently on. But it’s also true that we have a once-in-human-history chance not only to prevent the worst effects but also to make the world better right now. It would be a shame to squander this opportunity. So I don’t just want to talk about the problems anymore. I want to talk about the solutions. Consider this your last warning from me."

-via New York Times. Opinion essay by leading climate scientist Kate Marvel. November 18, 2023.

[electronalytics]

Induction Generators Market Overview and Regional Outlook Study 2017 – 2032

Market Overview:

The induction generators market refers to the industry involved in the production, distribution, and sales of induction generators. Induction generators are a type of electrical generator that operates based on the principle of electromagnetic induction. They are commonly used in various applications, including wind turbines, hydroelectric power plants, and standalone power systems.

Induction Generators Market is projected to be worth USD 44.8 billion by 2032, registering a CAGR of 9.50% during the forecast period (2023-2032)

Here are some key points about the induction generators market:

Growing Renewable Energy Sector: The increasing focus on renewable energy sources, such as wind and hydro power, has driven the demand for induction generators. These generators are widely used in wind turbines to convert the kinetic energy of the wind into electrical energy.

High Efficiency and Reliability: Induction generators are known for their high efficiency and reliability. They have simple construction, require minimal maintenance, and offer good performance in various operating conditions. These factors contribute to their popularity in power generation applications.

Varied Power Output Range: Induction generators are available in a wide range of power outputs, ranging from a few kilowatts to several megawatts. This flexibility makes them suitable for both small-scale and large-scale power generation projects.

Technological Advancements: Ongoing technological advancements have led to the development of more efficient and advanced induction generators. These advancements aim to enhance power generation efficiency, reduce costs, and improve overall performance.

Environmental Considerations: With increasing concerns about climate change and the need to reduce greenhouse gas emissions, the adoption of renewable energy sources like wind and hydro power is gaining momentum. Induction generators play a significant role in supporting this transition by providing clean and sustainable power generation solutions.

Government Policies and Incentives: Government initiatives, regulations, and incentives supporting renewable energy projects can significantly impact the induction generators market. Subsidies, feed-in tariffs, and tax benefits provided by governments encourage the adoption of renewable energy technologies, thereby driving the demand for induction generators.

Future Outlook: The induction generators market is expected to witness continued growth in the coming years due to the increasing demand for renewable energy and the transition towards a low-carbon economy. Technological advancements, cost reductions, and supportive government policies are likely to further boost market expansion.

We recommend referring our Stringent datalytics firm, industry publications, and websites that specialize in providing market reports. These sources often offer comprehensive analysis, market trends, growth forecasts, competitive landscape, and other valuable insights into this market.

By visiting our website or contacting us directly, you can explore the availability of specific reports related to this market. These reports often require a purchase or subscription, but we provide comprehensive and in-depth information that can be valuable for businesses, investors, and individuals interested in this market.

“Remember to look for recent reports to ensure you have the most current and relevant information.”

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Market Segmentations:

Global Induction Generators Market: By Company • ABB • GE • Brush HMA • Techtop • Victron Energy • SycoTec • Sicme Motori • Robert Bosch • TRUMPF • VEM Group Global Induction Generators Market: By Type • High Voltage Induction Generators • Medium Voltage Induction Generators • Low Voltage Induction Generators Global Induction Generators Market: By Application • Wind Turbines • Micro Hydro Installations • Other Global Induction Generators Market: Regional Analysis All the regional segmentation has been studied based on recent and future trends, and the market is forecasted throughout the prediction period. The countries covered in the regional analysis of the Global Induction Generators market report are U.S., Canada, and Mexico in North America, Germany, France, U.K., Russia, Italy, Spain, Turkey, Netherlands, Switzerland, Belgium, and Rest of Europe in Europe, Singapore, Malaysia, Australia, Thailand, Indonesia, Philippines, China, Japan, India, South Korea, Rest of Asia-Pacific (APAC) in the Asia-Pacific (APAC), Saudi Arabia, U.A.E, South Africa, Egypt, Israel, Rest of Middle East and Africa (MEA) as a part of Middle East and Africa (MEA), and Argentina, Brazil, and Rest of South America as part of South America.

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• To comprehend consumer behaviour: these research studies can offer insightful information about customer behaviour, including preferences, spending patterns, and demographics.

• To assess market opportunities: These research studies can aid companies in assessing market chances, such as prospective new goods or services, fresh markets, and new trends.

• To make well-informed business decisions: These research reports give companies data-driven insights that they may use to plan their strategy, develop new products, and devise marketing and advertising plans.

In general, market research studies offer companies and organisations useful data that can aid in making decisions and maintaining competitiveness in their industry. They can offer a strong basis for decision-making, strategy formulation, and company planning.

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[astra-ravana]

Types Of Witchcraft

Note: These are general/basic explanations of different classes of magick/witchcraft. Practitioners can fall into multiple or none of these categories. Ultimately, only an individual can choose their labels.

Green: Utilizing greenery/plants/herbs/flowers in herbal/nature magick, such as creating blends of different plants or primarily using herbs in spellwork. May keep a garden and take great pride in their workings/connection to the earth and nature.

Hedge/Shamanic: A type of magick that's more oriented towards spirit work, Otherworld and astral travel, dream work, spiritual power and healing. May work with psychedelic/psychotropic/toxic plants and fungi as spiritual tools (ie: flying ointments/teas made from amanita muscaria or datura)

Sea: A type of magick derived from materials/abstract ideas involving the ocean world. Sea magick is worked using various items from as well as one's own connection to the sea and its creatures.

Storm: Magick that is worked by combining one's own energy with the energy of the weather, most commonly storms. Storm witches may have practices such as collecting storm water or snow, "whistling up" or manipulating winds, or performing rituals during severe weather.

Hearth/Kitchen: Magick performed through kitchen craft and/or mundane tasks/crafts around the home or for loved ones. Typically worked daily through food, herbal mixtures, crafting, decorating, and hobbies. May also work with the Fae/elements/nature.

Tea: Those who drink tea, make their own tea mixtures, or enjoy blending herbal remedies and often use reading tea leaves as their form of divination.

Urban: For those who live in or prefer an urban setting/lifestyle. Magick that is worked in densely populated areas and big cities, without some of the seemingly "traditional" aspects of witchcraft.

Tech: Magick that is skillfully worked through technology. A tech witch might cast spells/do divinatory readings on the internet, use magick based apps/programs, or keep a digital grimoire/library.

Elemental: Magick that is worked by honoring/acknowledging all 4/5 elements (Fire, Air, Water, Earth, and/or Spirit). Elementalists may dedicate part of their alter to each element and call upon them during rituals/spells. Conversely, they may choose to focus on only one element changing the designation to either fire, air, water or earth witchcraft.

Fae/Faerie: The magick of those who work and commune with the Fae. Faerie witches may do rituals/spells around the Fae, ask favors of them, have regular communication sessions, and leave them offerings. The Fae are very unpredictable and strong but, with time and respect, they share their magick with special individuals.

Infernal: A system of spirit work/magick that revolves around Infernal spirits/entities, such as demons, djinn, or other spirits of a chaotic alignment. This practice requires a surprising amount of shadow work and dismantling of oppressive religious systems. They may summon demons, perform rituals/spells with them, make deals, or take them up as magickal familiars.

Necromancy: The practice of seeking the assistance of, summoning, communication, and diving through the dead. Practitioners may frequent cemetaries/burial grounds/haunted locations and perform magick and spiritual/divinatory readings there. Often employ the use of pendulums, dowsing rods, talking boards, black mirrors, grave dirt, and bones.

Draconian: Draconian magick is a practice that involves engaging with dragons as powerful forces and allies in spiritual practice. It can include rituals, symbolism, and techniques to connect with dragons, and may be used for empowerment, healing, and spiritual growth.

Chaos: A type of magick utilizing new, non-traditional, and unorthodox methods. It is a highly individualistic practice that draws from many magickal disciplines (eclecticism).

Blood/Sanguine: A very potent class of magick that includes the use of one's own blood or that of another in powerful rituals/spells.

Sigil/Art: The use of sigils, symbols, glyphs, runes, or artwork infused with will and intention. This practice is vast, versatile, and diverse with each practioner producing truly unique results.

Lunar: Lunar magick is the practice of performing rituals during the different phases of the Moon to bring about physical or psychological change. They may honor/worship the Moon, do moonlight rituals, or make moon waters. Conversely, one could work with the Sun in much the same fashion.

Cosmic/Celestial: Magick that incorporates the stars and planets. Astrology is a dominant force in their lives and witchcraft and they consider the placement of celestial bodies before doing a working.

Crystal: Incorporation of crystals/stones in one's magickal practice. May make crystal grids, include them in their spells, use them in energy work, meditation, or for Reiki healing.

Glamour: Glamour magick is an enchantment type that adjusts or changes your outward appearance, or people's perception of your outward appearance and can include the enchanting of jewelry, clothing, and even makeup for magickal purposes.

Shadow: Magick with a focus on the elements of darkness and shadow. May practice umbrakinesis (shadow manipulation), magickal subterfuge and illusion, and feel at peace, and even practice, in pitch black darkness

Are there any you feel I should have included? Please let me know! I'd love to expand this list. :)

[meadowfics]

throwback to the past (part1)

kang dae ho x f!reader

apart of my 'kang family series'

warnings: this goes to the veryyy beginning of daeho's and your relationship. very long chapter. this chapter contains mentions of death, debt, trauma, neglect, family trauma, the games itself which needs it own trigger warning. this is literally a "throwback to the past" chapter.

I had to split this into two parts

four and a half years earlier: 

the scent of brewed coffee and exhaustion leaves you as you finally step out of the café, the weight of another endless shift pressing down on your shoulders. 

your uniform clung to your skin, sticky with the smell of espresso and steamed milk, your feet aching from standing for nine hours straight.  

nine hours.  

seven days a week.  

all just to keep your head above water.  

the streets of seoul were alive with the usual nighttime stuff. there are couples walking hand in hand, businessmen heading home after long office hours, students laughing outside convenience stores. 

for them, the city was just the backdrop to their lives. 

for you, it was a cage.  

the neon signs flickered above you, their glow bouncing off the rain-slicked pavement as you tugged your jacket tighter around your body. your fingers ached from scrubbing dishes, your wrists sore from carrying tray after tray of overpriced drinks. 

it wasn’t enough. it was never enough.  

millions of won in debt.  

debt that wasn’t even yours.  

you clenched your jaw, the bitter taste of resentment settling deep in your gut.  

your mother, your own flesh and blood had stolen your name, your identity, and shattered your future before you even had a chance to build one.  

you were barely eighteen when you first found out.  

the calls had started coming…banks, credit companies, loan sharks. at first, you thought it was some mistake, some mix-up in the system. then, the truth unraveled itself in the cruelest way possible.  

your mother, the woman who had spent your entire childhood reminding you how unwanted you were, had been opening credit cards in your name for years.  

when you confronted her, voice shaking with fury, she didn’t even try to deny it.  

“you owe me,” she had said, her expression cold, detached, as if she hadn’t just ruined your life. 

“i carried you for nine months, fed you, clothed you. if you think you’re going to walk away from me without paying me back, you’re delusional.” 

your older sister had watched silently, unmoving, unbothered. she had always been the favorite and the perfect daughter, the one your mother loved.  

you? you had just been a burden.  

now, you were paying for it. literally.  

every paycheck, every tip you earned, every ounce of energy you poured into your job…it all went straight into trying to chip away at the insurmountable mountain of debt tied to your name or to your rent.  

you exhaled shakily, your fingers tightening around the straps of your worn-out bag.  . 

you had nothing. no savings, no home of your own, no future.  

all you had was dae-ho.

dae-ho came into your life completely unexpected. 

you weren’t looking for love. you were barely surviving as it was. between the never-ending shifts at the café, the crushing weight of your mother’s debt, and the deep-seated resentment that lingered long after her death, romance was the last thing on your mind and then he walked in.  

it was a chilly autumn afternoon, the kind where the wind cut through your jacket and left your fingers numb. the café was packed, as usual, filled with students hunched over textbooks, office workers grabbing their mid-day caffeine fix, and the occasional couple lost in soft conversation and then there was him.  

he stood in line, his posture straight, his presence unassuming yet impossible to ignore. daeho’s dark hair was slightly tousled from the wind, his sharp features softened by the dim lighting of the café. the marine’s hair was short at this point in life. however, it was his eyes that caught you off guard. warm, deep brown, filled with something you couldn't quite place.  

when he finally reached the counter, he ordered a simple cappuccino. no fancy flavors, no extra sugar, just straight to the point.  

you barely spared him a glance at first. just another customer. another name to call out when the order was ready. when you slid the cup across the counter, his fingers brushed yours for the briefest second, and that was when you finally looked up.  

daeho’s gaze met yours, steady, unwavering and then he smiled.  

it was small, barely there, but it changed everything for you.  

from that day on, he started stopping by regularly. at first, it was just once or twice a week. somehow, it became every day.  

he always ordered the same thing. a cappuccino. somehow, no matter how busy the café got, you always ended up being the one to make it.  

he never flirted, never made you uncomfortable, never asked for anything more than that one simple drink. however, he always lingered just a little longer, making casual conversation when the rush slowed down.  

you learned that he had just returned to seoul after years in the marines, that he had no real friends here, no family that he was close to since they lived an hour away. he told you little things… how he liked his coffee extra hot, how he wasn’t used to being in one place for too long, how things can never bring him peace.  

somehow, without realizing it, he became the one person you actually looked forward to seeing every day.  

one thing led to another after a shared coffee after your shift. a late-night walk when neither of you could sleep. a moment when his fingers brushed against yours and neither of you pulled away.  

suddenly, you were his and he was yours.  

that was eighteen months ago.  

a year and a half of loving him, of letting him into your world, of clinging to each other in the chaos of your lives.  

you weren’t just broke… you were drowning.  

you were still trapped under the weight of your mother’s choices, and dae-ho had his own debts to pay. the marines hadn’t exactly left him with a comfortable savings account, and whatever money he did have gone straight to surviving.  

you had both been so close to financial ruin, so close to breaking under the pressure of just trying to exist. so, when your mother died, leaving you with nothing but more debt and a hollow, complicated grief, dae-ho had suggested something crazy.  

“move in with me.”  

it wasn’t a romantic proposal, not at first. it was practical. you were struggling to keep up with rent, barely affording the tiny apartment you had been living in alone. dae-ho was in the same boat, and it just made sense.  

so, you said yes. together, you scraped together just enough to afford a tiny, cramped studio apartment in a worn-down building in a part of the city that no one really wanted to live in.  

it was barely big enough for the two of you. the kitchen was the size of a rich person’s walk-in closet, the mattress was just thrown onto the floor instead of a real bed frame, and the bathroom door was barely locked properly.  

the only real problem? you and dae-ho barely saw each other.  

you worked seven days a week at the café, picking up as many extra shifts as possible just to chip away at your debt. he worked long, exhausting hours at a construction site, taking whatever jobs he could find.  

the both of you had to align your schedules perfectly just to spend any time together. both of you made sure to work the same hours…opening shifts, double shifts, closing shifts. 

so that, at the very least, you could come home together.  

every night, without fail, he would finish work thirty minutes before you and every night, without fail, he would walk to your café and wait for you to finish your shift.  

it was the only constant in your life. seeing him standing outside, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his worn-out jacket, his eyes lighting up the second he saw you step outside.  

he never let you take the subway home alone.  

“not safe,” he would always mutter, shaking his head.  

so, the two of you would ride the train together, standing close, his fingers brushing against yours, his presence keeping you steady in a world that constantly felt like it was slipping through your fingers. your life was hard. exhausting. never-ending. 

at least you had kang dae ho.  

everything felt normal, well…as normal as it could be when you were drowning under the weight of responsibilities that weren’t even yours.  

until that night.  

october 28th, 2024. 

the night that changed your whole life. 

the last hour of your shift felt like every other exhausting day before it. the café was quiet, empty now that the final customers had left, leaving only you and your coworker, jenni, to finish closing. you were behind the counter, counting the registers, mentally preparing yourself for the short subway ride home with daeho.  

the routine was second nature by now. count the cash, balance the drawer, wipe down the machines, lock up, go home. however, tonight, something felt off.  

the numbers on the register screen started blurring together, and a dull pressure built behind your eyes. your hands, which had been moving steadily just moments ago, suddenly felt weak. you tried to shake it off. just exhaustion. just another long shift weighing you down.  

then, your arms trembled.  

your vision swayed.  

your breathing grew shallow.  

the last thing you remembered was the weight of the register slipping from your fingers before the floor came rushing up to meet you.  

everything went black.  

jenni’s panicked voice was the last sound you heard before everything faded.  

when you woke up, the beeping of hospital monitors greeted you first. the fluorescent lights were too bright, the sheets under you too soft from what you were used to, and the sterile scent of antiseptic was clinging to the air.  

you blinked, your throat dry, your limbs heavy, your mind still foggy.  

a doctor stood beside your bed, checking over your chart.  

“you’re awake,” she noted, her tone calm but firm, “how are you feeling?”  

you swallowed hard, your voice raspy, “tired. really, really tired.”  

she nodded, scribbling something down before meeting your gaze, “that’s expected. you were severely dehydrated, and your blood pressure was dangerously low. your body was completely exhausted.”  

you exhaled slowly, staring up at the ceiling. of course, you were. working seven days a week, barely eating, barely sleeping… your body had been begging for rest for months.  

however, the doctor’s expression shifted slightly.  

“there’s something else,” she continued, her voice careful.  

you turned your head to look at her, your stomach twisting at her tone.  

she hesitated only for a moment before saying the words that would change your life forever.  

“you’re pregnant.”  

you didn’t react.  

you didn’t gasp. didn’t cry. didn’t even flinch. you were too tired for the dramatics. you just blinked at her, your brain struggling to process the words through the thick fog of exhaustion.  

after a few long moments, you exhaled sharply, your voice flat.  

“are you serious?”  

she nodded.  

“yes. we’ll need to do prenatal checkups soon, and you’ll have to stay in the hospital for a few days so we can make sure both you and the baby are stable.”  

you just stared at the ceiling, your body too heavy, your mind too drained to react.  

pregnant.  

you were pregnant.  

meanwhile, across the city, daeho was sitting in a near-empty subway station, waiting for the next train home.  

you hadn’t answered his texts.  

when he arrived at the café, it was locked up tight. no sign of you, no sign of your usual coworkers.  

the man’s stomach churned with unease, but he told himself maybe you had just gotten off early. maybe you were already home, too exhausted to text back.  

however, that pressured feeling in his chest wouldn’t go away.  

suddenly, a man in a crisp suit sat down beside him.  

a smooth voice, a practiced smile.  

“hello sir, would you like to play a game?”  

back at the hospital room, everything  was quiet except for the steady beeping of the monitor beside you. it had been a long twelve hours since you had first woken up here, and in that time, everything had changed.  

you were five months pregnant.  

with a girl.  

your daughter.  

the words from the sonogram doctor replayed in your mind, over and over, but the reality still felt distant. its like an echo of something too big, too overwhelming to fully grasp.  

you weren’t happy. not really. not yet. not because you didn’t want her, but because the weight of your life… the debt, the stress, and the constant fight to survive was already unbearable. how were you supposed to raise a child when you could barely take care of yourself?  

what about daeho?  

was he even ready for this?  

he was the only man you had ever truly let in, the only person who had ever seen the real you, the one hidden beneath the exhaustion and the bitterness. he was your safe place, your anchor in the chaos.  

this was something else entirely.  

the sound of the door creaking open pulled you from your thoughts, and before you could even register the movement, warm lips pressed against your forehead.  

“my goodness, y/n,” daeho murmured against your skin, his voice tight with relief, “you scared the shit out of me.”  

you blinked up at him, his face blurry for a second before coming into focus.  

he looked tired, more than usual. daeho’s dark eyes were clouded with worry, his jaw tight like he had been clenching it for hours.  

you offered a small, weak smile, “i’m okay.”  

he pulled back just enough to look at you properly, his hand still resting on your arm, “you weren’t answering my texts. i got to the café, and it was locked up. no one was there. i thought—” he exhaled sharply, shaking his head, “i thought something happened to you.”  

something did happen.  

however, neither of you were saying the full truth.  

he wasn’t telling you about the card in his pocket…the one given to him by the man at the subway station. the one that now sat, hidden, against the fabric of his jacket and you weren’t telling him about the life growing inside you.  

instead, you reached for the bottle in his other hand, recognizing the brand immediately.  

your favorite electrolyte drink.  

you raised an eyebrow at him, “you brought me this?”  

he scoffed with a smile, shaking his head, “of course i did. i figured you’d need it.”  

your chest tightened, an ache settling there.  

he always knew what you needed before you even had to ask.  

“thank you,” you whispered.  

he sat beside you on the edge of the hospital bed, watching you as you twisted the cap off and took a slow sip.  

“what happened?” he asked after a moment.  

you sighed, leaning back against the pillows, “i was closing, counting the registers, and then… i don’t know. my arms felt weak, my head was heavy, and the next thing i remember, i was waking up here.”  

his brows furrowed, and you could already see the guilt forming behind his eyes.  

“i should’ve been there,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face, “i always come to get you. i should’ve—”  

“daeho,” you cut him off, reaching out to squeeze his hand, “it’s not your fault. stop blaming yourself.”  

your boyfriend’s jaw clenched but he nodded, though you could tell he didn’t fully believe you.  

so much was left unsaid between you both.  

for now, it was enough.  

daeho stayed with you for the next few days, refusing to leave your side unless a nurse or doctor forced him to get food. he held your hand when you fell asleep, ran his fingers through your hair absentmindedly while watching TV on the hospital’s tiny screen, made sure you actually ate your meals.  

he is perfect. he always had been.  

yet, you still didn’t tell him.  

it wasn’t the right time. or maybe you were just scared.  

he had enough stress weighing on his shoulders… his own debts, his endless work shifts, the guilt he carried like it was stitched into his skin. telling him now would only make everything harder.  

so, you kept quiet.  

on the morning of your discharge, daeho had to leave for work just an hour before you were officially released.  

he stood by the hospital bed, dressed in his usual work clothes, his hands resting on his hips as he looked down at you.  

“you sure you’ll be okay getting home by yourself?”  

you smiled softly, nodding, “i will be, i promise.”  

he sighed, leaning down to press a lingering kiss against your forehead.  

“don’t do anything,” he murmured, “just rest, okay? i mean it, love.”  

you chuckled, nodding again, “okay.”  

he kissed you one more time before finally pulling away, his fingers brushing against your cheek before he left.  

the moment the door shut behind him, you let out a slow breath, your hand instinctively moving to your lower stomach.  

your baby.  

a little girl.  

a mix of you and daeho.  

for the first time since you heard the news, something shifted inside you… something warm, and something way too real and serious.  

you were going to be a mother.  

an hour later, you stepped out of the hospital, the cool air hitting your skin as you stood just outside the entrance.  

you were about to take your first step toward the subway when a voice stopped you in your tracks.  

“excuse me.”  

you turned.  

a man in a suit stood just a few feet away, his expression calm, unreadable.  

he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, square card.  

then, with a familiar, practiced smile, he extended it toward you.  

“would you like to play a game?”

your brows furrowed, “what?”  

he stepped closer, holding the package out to you, “it’s a simple game. ddakji. if you win, i’ll give you 100,000 won. if i win, i get to slap you.”  

your lips parted slightly at the absurdity of it all. a stranger…an oddly dressed stranger was standing outside a hospital offering you money in exchange for a children's game?  

“no thanks,” you said flatly, turning to walk away.  

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice calm, unbothered, “you could use the money, couldn’t you?”  

your steps faltered.  

something in his tone made your stomach tighten.  

you turned back to him, your expression hard, “what did you just say?”  

he smiled again, unaffected by your glare, “come on. one round. it’ll take less than a minute.”  

you hesitated, glancing down at the package in his hands.  

100,000 won… for a simple game.

your gut told you this was wrong, that nothing in life came this easy, but your exhaustion made you reckless.  

“fine,” you muttered, stepping forward, “one round.”  

the man’s smile widened slightly. he knelt down, setting one piece of folded paper onto the concrete. then, he handed you the other.  

you barely took a moment to analyze it before moving.  

with one swift, forceful motion, you slammed the ddakji down.  

the impact was strong enough that the other piece immediately flipped over, the sound echoing through the quiet hospital entrance.  

you won.  

the man blinked, the smile never leaving his face as he glanced down at the overturned paper.  

“impressive.”  

you straightened, crossing your arms, “where’s my money?”  

without hesitation, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a crisp 100,000 won bill, handing it to you.  

you snatched it, stuffing it into your pocket, already turning to leave.  

“wait,” he said smoothly, pulling something else from his pocket.  

a simple, cream-colored card.  

you already knew what it was.  

“keep it,” you said firmly, shaking your head, “i’m not interested.”  

the man’s smile didn’t waver, “are you sure? my organization has been keeping an eye on you, y/n.”  

your blood ran cold.  

your entire body went rigid, your pulse pounding in your ears.  

you turned back to him slowly, “wha-what the fuck did you just say?”  

the man’s smile grew ever so slightly.  

“you had a rough childhood, didn’t you?” he mused, tilting his head, “your father abandoned you before you could even form memories of him. your mother resented you for it. favored your now dead sister over you. hated you.”  

your stomach turned violently, but you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral.  

“and then, of course, she racked up 250 million won in debt—all in your name,” he continued casually, “when she died, all of it fell onto your shoulders.”  

your hands curled into fists.  

“you’ve been working seven days a week to pay it off,” he went on, “but it’s barely made a dent, has it? you work yourself to exhaustion, yet the numbers don’t seem to change.”  

your breath was shallow now, your mind racing.  

“and then there’s the… other… recent development.”  

the salesman’s eyes flickered downward—just for a second.  

your hands instinctively moved to your stomach.  

no.  

you shook your head, taking a shaky step back. 

“there’s no way you-”  

“oh, but we do,” he cut in smoothly, “we know everything about you, y/n. and we also know that you are running out of options.”  

your body trembled, but not from the cold.  

you felt violated, exposed, like you had been stripped bare in front of this stranger.  

he took a step closer, holding the card out once more.  

“you can refuse this now,” he said, “but let’s be honest… where else can you turn?”  

your throat tightened.  

“this is your last hope,” he continued, his voice softer now, as if he were gentle, as if he cared. 

“not just for you, but for your daughter. for your family. if you want to give her a life free from this weight, if you want to finally break free from the chains your mother left you in… then take the card.”  

your pulse pounded in your ears. your mind was screaming at you to run and to turn around and leave, to get as far away from this as possible. however, there was a smaller voice.  

one that whispered the truth you already knew.  

you really don’t have any other options.

your fingers twitched. so slowly and hesitantly, you reached forward and took the card from his hand. it felt heavier than it should have.  

the man smiled, his job done.  

“call the number when you’re ready,” he said simply, before turning and walking away, disappearing into the evening crowd like he had never been there at all.  

you stood frozen for a long moment, the card burning against your fingertips.  

you didn’t want this. you shouldn’t want this.  

your hand trembled as you stuffed the card into your pocket. maybe this was the last chance you had left.

you sat on the edge of the mattress in your tiny studio apartment, staring at the small, cream-colored card resting in your palm. the weight of it felt unnatural, like something that shouldn’t exist, something that shouldn’t be in your hands. it was all you could think about.  

it had been hours since you had gotten home from the hospital, yet your mind refused to let it go. the man’s voice, the knowledge he had about your life…about you…it replayed over and over in your head like a broken record.  

they knew everything.  

your past.  

your debt.  

your pregnancy.  

your fingers curled around the card tightly, your knuckles going white.  

you needed the money. there was no denying that. but the reality of what you were about to do…the idea of stepping into something completely unknown, made your stomach churn.  

before you could spiral any further, your phone rang. daeho.  

you took a breath before answering, “hey, love.”  

“hey sweetheart,” he said, his voice warm but laced with exhaustion. 

“just wanted to check if you got home okay.”  

your chest tightened slightly at how much he cared, at how, despite his own struggles, he always made sure you were okay.  

“yeah,” you murmured, “i got home fine. just been resting.”  

“good,” he sighed, relief evident in his tone, “i–i- i hated leaving you at the hospital like that.”  

you shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you, “it’s okay, daeho. you have work. i get it.”  

a brief silence settled between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it never was.  

“you sure you’re okay?” he asked after a moment.  

your fingers twitched against the card.  

“…yeah,” you lied.  

he exhaled softly, “okay. i’ll be home later tonight. just rest, alright?”  

“alright,” you said quietly.  

“good.”  

another pause.  

“i love you,” he murmured.  

your chest ached.  

“i love you too,” you whispered back.  

the call ended.  

you stared at the phone in your hand for a few seconds before glancing down at the card. your thumb brushed over the embossed numbers, your heart pounding as you reached for the phone again.  

before you could second-guess yourself, you dialed.  

the phone rang once.  

twice.  

then, a voice answered.  

"good evening. please state your name and birthdate."  

you hesitated for only a second before responding, your voice steady despite the nerves twisting inside you.  

"y/n l/n. january 1st, 2000."  

there was a pause, the sound of typing on the other end of the line.  

suddenly,  

"your pickup will be on october 31st, at midnight in front of the yongsan family park."  

click.  

the line went dead.  

the same happened to daeho back at his jon.

"...please state your name and birthdate."  

“kang daeho. may 26th, 1989.” 

a pause. 

"your pickup will be on october 31st at midnight, in front of hongik university campus."  

click.

back at your home you swallowed hard, staring down at your phone, at the screen that now displayed the empty call log.  

this was it and this was happening. you slowly lowered the phone, your other hand instinctively moving to your stomach. you weren’t showing much, not yet, not enough for people to notice. but you knew.  

your little girl was growing inside you.  

and this?  

this wasn’t for you anymore, this was for her.  

a few days later, you didn’t remember what had happened. all you woke up to was the sound of loud, almost playful music that jolted you awake.  

your eyes snapped open, your body tensing immediately as unfamiliar noises surrounded you. murmurs, footsteps, the shuffling of fabric…so many sounds at once. you blinked, your vision still adjusting, your mind trying to piece together what was happening.  

nothing made sense. you weren’t in your bed. you weren’t in your apartment.  

instead, you were lying on a stiff mattress, metal bars surrounding you. a bunk bed.  

your heart slammed against your ribs as you sat up quickly, your hands gripping the thin blanket draped over you. the rows upon rows of bunks stretched across the massive room, stacked high and pressed closely together.  

there were people…so many people. hundreds of them, all wearing the same thing.  

a green tracksuit.  

just like yours. 

the number 399 was patched on your chest. 

panic clawed at your throat. where the hell am i?  

your fingers twitched against the fabric of the jacket you were suddenly wearing, your breath coming out in shallow exhales.  this wasn’t a dream. this is real.  

the details started trickling back into your mind like drops of ink staining water. the phone call. the pickup location. the choice you made.  

you had signed up for this but that didn’t make waking up here any less terrifying. your hands moved to your stomach instinctively, fingers pressing against the fabric, as if to reassure yourself that your baby was still there. you took a slow, steadying breath, willing yourself to calm down.  

no one had noticed you yet, thankfully. the room was chaotic…people were moving around, whispering, murmuring in confusion, in fear. some were stretching, others were already getting into arguments. you forced yourself to stay still, your eyes scanning the room, taking everything in.  

there were no windows.  

no clocks.  

no way of knowing what time it was or how long you had been unconscious.  

however, a sudden, sharp noise silenced the murmurs around you. a large metal door at the front of the room slid open with a heavy clang, revealing a group of masked men in bright pink jumpsuits.  

your stomach twisted. you didn’t move from your bunk as they stepped forward, their presence alone enough to make the entire room go eerily quiet.  

one of them, the tallest, stepped to the center of the room.  

“welcome, players.”  

the voice was distorted by the mask, but it carried through the space with authority.  

“you have all been brought here to participate in a series of games. each game presents an opportunity for you to win a substantial cash prize.”  

a ripple of whispers spread through the room.  

“before we begin,” the masked man continued, “you must sign your consent forms.”  

your throat felt dry as you stepped in line. a pen was placed into your hands when you’ve gotten to the front of the line..  

the contract was simple. three rules.  

1. a player is not allowed to stop playing.  

2. a player who refuses to play will be eliminated.  

3. games may be terminated if the majority agrees.  

you swallowed hard, gripping the pen in your fingers.  

there was no turning back now.  

your fingers were steady as you scribbled your name onto the page, your signature bold against the white paper. when the guards collected the forms, you turned on your heel and went straight back to your bunk.  

you needed to stay out of sight. 

the first game would begin soon and you were about to step into a nightmare far worse than you could have ever imagined.

you didn’t know that, though.  

you thought this was just an opportunity. just some strange, elaborate event where desperate people competed in innocent games for money. the contract didn’t seem that serious. at least, not serious enough for alarm. eliminated meant going home, right? a loss, maybe some embarrassment, but nothing permanent.  

so, you followed the others.  

you were positioned in the far back of the line, your steps quiet as the guards led you and the rest of the players toward a sectioned-off area near the large metal doors.  

one by one, the players ahead of you were stepping in front of a camera. the camera flashed.  

a voice instructed them to smile.  

it was… odd.  

again, you thought little of it.  

when it was your turn, you stood in front of the lens, your hair cascading over your shoulders.  

"smile," the voice instructed.  

you hesitated for half a second before offering a light, polite smile.  

the flash went off and just like that, your picture was taken.  

no explanation. no further instructions.  

before you could dwell on it, a guard motioned for you to move forward so you did. you followed the long, winding corridor with the rest of the players, stepping through a series of doors that opened with a loud hiss.  

then—  

you stepped into another world.  

your breath caught slightly at the sight in front of you.  

a field but it was not just any field.  

it was massive, stretching farther than you had expected, with tall green grass and an open sky painted across the walls.  

it looked too real, like a place pulled straight from childhood, from old memories of running barefoot in the summer. the sun wasn’t real, but it looked real. the sky wasn’t real, but it stretched high above you like it was endless.  

your stomach twisted slightly. this was elaborate. way too elaborate for just a series of games. something felt wrong. still, you pushed the feeling down.  

you weren’t here to overthink things. you were here to win. for your daughter. for daeho.  

so, you stood there, your arms resting loosely at your sides, waiting for the game to begin.

the doll was strange.  

however, the man… that man over there…was stranger. 

player 456, a man who has seen some years, started yelling the moment they led everyone onto the field, his voice frantic, panicked, filled with something that wasn’t just fear… it was experience.  

"if you move, you die!" he screamed, eyes wild as he shoved past people, his breath ragged. 

"i’ve played this before! they’ll shoot you if you move on red light!"  

your brows furrowed, a ripple of confusion moving through the crowd.  

what the hell was he talking about?  

some people chuckled nervously, exchanging glances. others muttered that he must have been drunk, maybe high, maybe crazy.  

you weren’t so sure. you’ve seen fear before, his fear didn’t seem like something alcohol could cause. the man’s voice wasn’t slurred, his words weren’t stumbling.  

no, this was something else entirely.  

paranoia, maybe. but not drunk behavior.  

before you could process it any further, the game began. the speakers crackled to life.  

“green light.”  

you hesitated for only a second before stepping forward, moving cautiously just like everyone else.  

you took a few slow, careful steps.  

then, “red light.”  

you froze.  

so did everyone else, things were okay. 

another green light happened, you took a few steps, then red light, you froze.

however, you weren't aware of the hell that was going to break loose. 

the scream and the sound of a buzzing bee. your stomach twisted violently at the sound.  

a loud, piercing scream from a few feet ahead, followed by—  

BOOM!  

a gunshot.  

your breath hitched. your body stiffened.  

what the hell? before you could even process what just happened—  

BOOM!  

another gunshot, then another, and another, and much more.  

your heart pounded painfully in your chest, your blood turning to ice.  

what the fuck is happening?  

your hands curled into fists as your body screamed at you to move, to run, but something in your gut told you not to. your eyes moved, but not your head.  

you barely shifted your gaze toward the source of the noise, trying to see what the hell was going on—  

before blood splattered across your face. someone panicked and sprinted right past you and now, they were dead. the woman’s body crumpled onto the ground just a few feet away, their lifeless eyes frozen open, a hole clean through their skull.  

your breath caught in your throat.  

no? no!? no!!!

your stomach churned violently.  

your mind screamed at you to wake up, to shake off the nightmare, to claw your way out of whatever horrifying fever dream this was but this wasn’t a dream.  

the man kept yelling.  

"don’t move! freeze! don’t fucking move!"  

your fingers twitched. your knees locked. your pulse pounded against your skull.  you didn’t move, not an inch, not a single goddamn inch.  

when the doll's voice rang out again, calmly repeating the rules, something in your chest cracked open.  

eliminated  

eliminated didn’t mean sent home.  

it meant dead. 

the realization hit you like a freight train, knocking the air from your lungs. you were going to die here… or worse, your daughter was going to die here.  

your vision blurred for half a second before the speakers crackled again.  

“green light.”  

run.  

your body moved before your mind could catch up.  

run. 

your feet hit the ground hard as you propelled yourself forward, dodging fallen bodies, weaving through panicked players.  

run. run. run.  

“red light.”  

you stopped on a dime, your entire body locking up, your breath caught in your throat.  

silence.  

no gunshots.  

you were still alive.   

the seconds stretched on for what felt like an eternity, your entire existence narrowed down to the movement of that monstrous doll, to the moment it turned away again.  

“green light.”  

you ran.  

you ran like your life depended on it because it did. 

step after step, heartbeat after heartbeat, until your foot crossed the finish line.  

you stumbled slightly, panting, your hands instinctively flying to your stomach.  

you made it.  

your fingers pressed against the barely-there bump, your chest heaving, your mind racing.  

she’s okay and you’re okay.

for now.  

you barely noticed when your legs gave out beneath you, the exhaustion catching up to you all at once.  

you sat there, your entire body trembling, your fingers curled over your stomach, trying to ground yourself, trying to remind yourself of the only thing that mattered.  

your daughter and your little girl, your reason to keep going.  

even if this was just the beginning of hell.

after everything and walking back to the dorms, your feet felt heavier than they had ever been.  

it wasn’t just exhaustion, it was the weight of knowing. it is knowing that you had just seen dozens of people die and knowing that this wasn’t a game and knowing that you were trapped here, that you had signed away your life, that there was no easy way out.  

you had made a choice and now, you had to live with it, but god  you wanted to leave.  

you wanted to turn around, to walk in the other direction, to run until your legs gave out but you couldn’t.  

so, you kept walking.  

your eyes drifted toward the man ahead of you…the one who had been screaming before the game started. there were a few people between you and him, but you could still see the tension in his shoulders, the way he walked with something different than everyone else.  

the others were stumbling, still reeling, still whispering in hushed, horrified tones. 456? he wasn’t whispering. he wasn’t looking around in confusion, wasn’t questioning what had just happened because he already knew.  

wait wait wait… he came back to this? 

your stomach twisted at the thought.  

for what?  

what could possibly be worth coming back here for?  

the answer was simple… the money. 

still, your mind raced.  

how had he survived before? what did he know that the rest of you didn’t? how many others here had played before? questions swirled in your mind, but you didn’t have the energy to chase them down.  

you just kept walking, following the others back toward the dorms.  

by the time you made it back, your limbs felt like lead, your breath slow and heavy as you climbed up to your top bunk in the back corner of the room, as far from the others as possible. you didn’t want to be near them, your trust in humans was basically gone.  

you didn’t want to see their fear, their grief, their trembling hands as they processed what had just happened. so, you curled up, pressing your forehead against the cold metal railing, your fingers resting against your stomach. you closed your eyes, trying to block out the world.

only a couple of minutes later the guards entered the room. suddenly, you didn’t have to wonder about the answers anymore because they were about to tell you everything. the moment the guards entered the room, the uneasy murmurs of the surviving players died down to a hushed silence.  

your heartbeat drummed in your ears as you sat up slightly on your top bunk, your eyes locked on the pink-suited figures standing in front of the massive screen at the far end of the dormitory.  

you barely breathed, everyone was waiting. then, the screen above flickered to life, illuminating the room in a dull glow.  

the masked guard in the center stepped forward.  

“congratulations, players,” he announced, his voice distorted through the black mask, “you have all successfully completed the first game.”  

no one said anything.  

no one moved.  

it wasn’t worth congratulating.  

your fingers curled into the fabric of your tracksuit, the metallic taste of fear still lingering on your tongue. the screen changed, showing the bold number 456 in bright ivory.  

the guard continued.  

“as per the rules, players who fail the game are eliminated. with that, the current number of players remaining is—”  

the number on the screen began to decrease.  

quickly.  

400...

378..

you sucked in a sharp breath as it continued to drop.  

the air in the dorm was suffocating, thick with a mix of grief and disbelief.  

you looked around, watching as people’s faces crumpled in horror, as some dropped to their knees, as others turned away, unable to witness the final tally.  

365.

the numbers stopped.  

your stomach twisted violently.  

365.

from 456 to 365 in one game.  

you had just barely made it past the first round, and already, 91 people were dead. 

the guard continued, as if it was nothing.  

“per the rules outlined in your contracts, the prize money will now be distributed accordingly.”  

there was a loud mechanical hum, and everyone’s heads turned up. the massive, glass piggy bank suspended above the room lit up, just as the masked men pressed something into their control panels.  

suddenly, stacks of money dropped into the glass. 

you weren’t sure why, but the sound made you sick. the soft, rhythmic flutter of cash raining down inside the bank filled the silence.  

when it stopped, the glowing numbers below it read:  

₩91,000,000 

you felt sick, this was how they were keeping score. if you did the math correctly, you could walk out with 45.6 billion won if you were the sole winner. however, the chance of winning felt so low right now.

a man in the crowd let out a shaky breath. 

“what the fuck,” he whispered under his breath, his voice cracking.  

you swallowed, your throat dry as the masked man continued.  

“each eliminated player adds 100 million won to the total prize fund,” he explained, “the more players eliminated, the higher the reward. the players that make it through all six games will split up the cash prize money evenly.”  

your hands felt cold. you could see it…the way some people’s eyes flickered to the glowing piggy bank with something a little different from fear. greed.  

some were already starting to rationalize it, you could tell.  

it’s them or me. if people are going to die anyway, at least I’ll be rich. you felt sick.  

the guard wasn’t done.  

“as stated in the rules, players who refuse to participate will be eliminated. however, should the majority of players wish to discontinue the games, all players will be permitted to leave, and the prize money accumulated so far will be divided amongst all of the players.”  

a new image popped up on the screen.  

a yes and no option appeared with two large buttons at the bottom.  

“you will now vote.” the murmurs grew louder.  

people shifted, glancing at one another, exchanging hesitant whispers. the rules had said that the games could end with a majority vote.  that meant there was still a way out.  

your pulse pounded.  

could this really be over? could you really leave? or was this just another game?  

your fingers unconsciously moved to your stomach, pressing against the barely-there bump.  

your daughter.  you had to get out.  

you swallowed hard, watching as more people looked up at the piggy bank and weighing their options. you already knew that some people weren’t going to let this go. some people would stay because for some, the risk was worth it.  

you weren’t sure how you would vote.  

all you knew was that if you left here with nothing, the life waiting for you outside was no better. your life was already drowning in debt, your body was already exhausted from years of survival and now, you had a baby girl to think about.  

the guards began calling people forward, one by one, leading them to the giant two buttons in the center of the room.  

your turn was coming soon, and you had a choice to make.

“player 399.”  

your heart thumped in your chest at the sound of your number being called. your legs felt stiff as you moved through the crowd of players, stepping toward the massive red button in the center of the room. you could feel eyes on you, but you ignored them.  

without hesitation, without a single second of doubt, you pressed X. 

you weren’t going to stay. there was no way in hell you were going to risk your life in this nightmare. the second the red light confirmed your vote, one of the guards handed you a small badge, a symbol marking your decision.  

you took it, pinning it to your tracksuit jacket before turning around and heading straight back to your bunk. you didn’t want to talk to anyone. you didn’t want to hear whatever arguments people would make to stay. you didn’t want to be involved.  

you just wanted to go home.  you climbed back onto your top bunk, exhaling a long, shaky breath as you buried your head into your arms.  

then—  

“player 388.”  

you weren’t paying attention at first, too deep in your own panic, in your own exhaustion. however, when the next player stepped forward, something made you look up.  

something made your body go rigid. 

long black hair, tied into a low ponytail.  

broad shoulders.  

a familiar stance, a familiar way of holding himself.  

your breath caught in your throat.  

no.  

it wasn’t possible. you sat up straighter, your heart hammering wildly against your ribs as you watched him move toward the button.  

your stomach twisted.  

he looks just like daeho. 

gosh does daeho have a twin?

you clenched your fists, shaking your head, telling yourself it wasn’t him…it couldn’t be him.  

he pressed O. 

he voted to stay.  

you swallowed hard, watching him closely as he turned…and the moment his face came into full view, your world stopped.  

your lungs forgot how to breathe and your heart plummeted.  

daeho.

your head spun, your pulse a frantic, erratic rhythm in your ears.  

he was here.  

he was here!!  

the realization hit you like a freight train.  

what the hell is he doing here?  

you barely registered your own movements as you slid off the bunk, your legs carrying you forward before you even had time to think. your eyes locked onto him, your stomach churning as you watched the exhaustion etched onto his face, the tension in his shoulders, the way his face looked so much thinner than he had just days ago.  

had he even been sleeping? had he been eating? how long has he been here? a large panic surged through you.  

this wasn’t supposed to happen, since daeho wasn’t supposed to be here.  

you were supposed to go home, to find a way to fix this, to crawl your way out of hell and back to him—not meet him here in the middle of it.  

you immediately jumped up from your bunk, walking before stopping right in front of him.  

he was staring at the ground, lost in thought, unaware of your presence…until you spoke.  

“daeho.”  

the man’s entire body went rigid.  

slowly, his head lifted.  

the moment his eyes met yours, something inside him broke.  

daeho’s worst fears came true in an instant. he had been worrying about you from the second he stepped into this place, but he never expected to actually see you here.  

his breath came out shaky, “y/n?”  

your lips trembled, “what the fuck are you doing here?”  

your boyfriend’s mouth opened, then closed, his jaw tightening, “i…i didn’t know—”  

you shook your head, “why the hell did you vote to stay?”  

daeho’s fists clenched at his sides, “because I didn’t know you were here!” his voice cracked slightly, panic laced in his words, “i thought—i thought you were home!”  

your chest tightened, your stomach twisting painfully.  

he thought you were safe.  

he thought he was doing this for you.

your voice was quieter this time, hoarse, “daeho?”  

he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, “for the money. for you.”  

your heart twitched.  

of course.  

of course he did, because that’s the kind of person he was but god he shouldn’t be here.  

suddenly, the thought it hit you.  

the guilt settled into your chest, sharp and suffocating.  

he doesn’t know.  

your lips parted slightly as the truth crashed down on you.  

you never told him about the baby, not about your shared daughter, not about the fact that he wasn’t just risking his life for you anymore…but for the family you were supposed to have.  

your hands trembled.  

“daeho,” you whispered, the weight of it all pressing down on you.  

you had to tell him.  

before you could, the next name was called.  

the next vote was cast, and the countdown continued.  

time was running out.

you stood next to daeho, your body still tense as you both watched the rest of the players step forward one by one, casting their votes.  

more O’s lit up on the screen than X’s, and with each one, your stomach twisted even tighter.  

you wanted out.  

you wanted out so badly but as the final votes were cast, the screen flickered…confirming the final decision.  

your heart sank. 

majority vote: the games will continue. 

a low murmur spread across the room, some players reacting with relief, others with quiet despair.  

you just felt numb. so that was it.  

you weren’t going home, you weren’t getting out, and you were staying.  

you swallowed hard, your hands trembling slightly as your mind raced with the realization that there was no escape.  

this was happening.  

you barely registered daeho’s hand as it found yours, his grip warm, firm, reassuring.  

when you turned your head, he was already looking at you, his dark eyes filled with something unreadable. he exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening just slightly around yours.  

“baby, i am so sorry. i wouldn’t have voted to stay if i knew. i’ll keep you safe,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the chaos around you.  

you stared at him, the promise settling deep in your chest.  

you wanted to believe him.  

goodness, you wanted to believe him so badly.  

so, instead of responding, you just leaned into him.  

daeho’s strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, his warmth grounding you for just a second. you closed your eyes, letting yourself feel it.  

the exhaustion. the fear. the reality of where you were.  

however, you let yourself only feel daeho for this moment. the man who had spent a year and a half loving you, even when you didn’t know how to love yourself. i mean… daeho is the man who had worked himself to exhaustion for you, he is the man who had voted to stay…not because he wanted to, but because he thought you were back home waiting for him.  

you were so tired and so terrified, but at least he was here…at least you weren’t alone.

the next morning, you woke up beside daeho on the same bed. you didn’t care, you needed some type of content comfort.  

your mind went to the next game, whatever it could possibly be. it was as if the room itself knew that whatever was coming next was about to break even more of you. you had stuck close to daeho. it was the only thing keeping you sane besides the baby in your womb.  

the two of you had moved quickly, forming a group with three others—gi-hun, the man who had warned everyone during red light, green light, jung-bae, his friend who barely spoke, and young-il, a man who looked like he had seen too much in his lifetime.  

five of you.  

it felt safe.  

daeho used his charm and playfulness to make the group while you just trailed behind him. you were quiet, wondering if you could trust these people. 

when all of the players were moved into the next rooms for the next games, you seen a rainbow on the ground in a circle. once the feminine voice spoke about the next games, the six legged pentathlon, you were relieved since you and daeho were in a group of five already. daeho, young-il, jung-bae, gi-un, and you.

at least until she appeared.  

you didn’t notice her at first… not until she was right in front of you, her voice soft, almost drowned out by the low murmurs around you.  

"hi.. um, can i join your group?” 

player 222’s voice was soft, pleading. 

“i’m sorry, but we already–” jung-bae tries to speak.

“please... let me join,” she reaches for her lower stomach, “i'm pregnant."  

everything stopped.  

your breath hitched and your eyes snapped down toward her stomach.  

it was full. round. unmistakable. that woman was full term and she was due at anytime this month.  

your stomach turned violently, an ache spreading through your chest as you swallowed thickly, your mind barely able to process what you were looking at.  

she was so far along, farther than you could even imagine being in a place like this. your hands twitched slightly, your nails pressing into your palms, trying so hard to not reach for your own stomach.  

this wasn't right, neither of you should be here. pregnant women were supposed to be in hospitals, in their homes, surrounded by warmth and safety, not standing in the middle of a death game, begging for a spot in a group so they wouldn’t be left alone to die.  

your throat tightened, and for the first time since stepping into this nightmare, you felt like you were going to be sick. 

gi-hun looked at jung-bae.  

jung-bae looked at young-il.  

then… 

they all looked at you.  

you felt their eyes on you before you even turned to meet them.  

they were asking you, without words, to step down, to give up your spot and to let her take it.  

it was you were the smallest. you couldn’t be offended, you were the only person that knew about your pregnancy, even daeho didn’t. you weren’t showing so nobody could guess.   

your body felt too still, like the weight of the decision had already settled into your bones before you even had time to think about it.  

suddenly daeho spoke up. 

"i’ll go," he said, his voice firm but unreadable, "y/n, you can stay."  

your head snapped toward him.  

no.  

he didn’t understand and he didn’t realize why this was eating at you the way it was, why your fingers were trembling, why your heart felt like it was aching for this stranger in a way you couldn’t explain.  

he didn’t know.  

he had no idea. 

you exhaled sharply, your voice quiet but steady.  

"no."  

daeho frowned, his brows pulling together, "y/n—"  

"i'll go," you interrupted, cutting off whatever protest was about to leave his lips. daeho’s entire body went rigid.  

"y/n, don’t—"  

"make sure she’s protected," you said, and for the first time, your voice shook.  

daeho’s lips parted slightly, his eyes flickering with something unreadable.  

he was noticing the way your hands clenched at your sides, noticing the panic in your eyes, the way you looked at this woman as if you understood her pain. as if you had been in her place before. before he could ask, you turned and walked away.  

you had just left your group.  

you had just left him.  

your only protection.  

your only safety, hoping that he could keep the more-developed pregnant woman safe.  

you walked through the growing clusters of players, your stomach twisting violently with each step, your hands trembling as you scanned the faces of strangers, looking for a group…any group…that would take you in.  

your lips parted, a shaky breath escaping as you pressed a hand over your stomach, feeling the soft curve beneath your palm.  

"please let me survive this.”

you were lost in your own thoughts, your mind spiraling with every worst-case scenario possible. the weight of your decisions pressed down on you like an unbearable force, making it hard to breathe. your hands trembled slightly, and your stomach churned, but you forced yourself to keep moving. you needed to find a group. you needed to find safety.  

then, a hand touched your shoulder.  

it was soft, the touch so light you barely felt it at first. it startled you nonetheless, your body jerking slightly as you turned around, expecting to see one of the guards or maybe someone trying to push you out of the way.  

instead, you found yourself looking up at a tall woman.  

player 120. 

the woman’s expression was calm, steady, a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding around you. she held herself with quiet confidence, and for a brief moment, you forgot about the panic clawing at your chest.  

during your day here so far, you had heard whispers about her. people had always whispered about what they didn’t understand.  

you weren’t the only one who had overheard the murmurs about how she “used to be a man,” how some of the more conservative players scoffed at her very existence, making crude comments under their breath.  

not you. you didn’t give a damn about that.  

your eyes met hers, and despite the fear coursing through your veins, despite the sheer exhaustion settling into your bones, you gave her a small, hesitant smile…one that was probably more fearful than anything else.  

she returned it with a nod before gesturing to the player beside her…a shorter girl with round cheeks and scared eyes, player 095.  

“do want to team up with us?” she asked, her voice smooth, unwavering.  

your lips parted slightly as if you wanted to say something, wanted to hesitate, but there was no time for second-guessing.  

you nodded.  

it wasn’t because you trusted them and it wasn’t because you felt safe, it was because you had no choice.  

so, you trailed behind them as they moved through the sea of players, looking for more members to complete their team.  

soon, they found them.  

a mother and her son.  

players 007 and 149. 

the mother held her son’s hand so tightly that his fingers had turned white, and his eyes darted around the room as if looking for an escape route that didn’t exist.  

there were five of you now which is the perfect number, but that didn’t ease the suffocating feeling in your chest.  

your hands had started to shake again, your breath unsteady as you sat down with the group.  

you couldn’t stop thinking about the baby inside you. this life—this tiny, innocent life that had no idea what kind of danger it was in. you wanted to protect her, but how could you?  

your fingers twitched as the nausea in your stomach worsened. suddenly, a hand slid over yours, steady, grounding.  

your head snapped up to see player 120 watching you closely, her fingers wrapping around your trembling ones.  

"relax," she murmured, her voice softer now, more reassuring, "it’s okay, we will win."  

nothing about this was okay but for some reason her words helped.  

she held onto your hand for a few more moments, letting you absorb her warmth before finally letting go. then, she offered something you hadn’t expected.   

"my name is cho hyun-ju," she said, giving you a small nod, "what’s yours?"  

you hesitated for only a second before responding.  

"y/n," you said quietly, "y/n l/n."  

you sat on the cool, hard floor of the massive game hall, you felt an eerie sense of detachment from reality. everything around you…the murmurs of players strategizing, the sound of anxious breathing, the soft shuffle of feet as people made last-minute adjustments, felt distant. 

the gunshots from when the first groups lost nearly sent your heart running out of your chest. you are scared, terrified. the sounds of those guns and how loud they were, you found yourself flinching at sounds that seemed a bit too loud.

your mind wasn’t fully present. instead, it wandered, restless and heavy, only half-aware of the discussions happening within your own group. your fingers idly traced over the sleeve of your green tracksuit as your eyes drifted across the room, searching. 

you weren’t looking for just anyone, you were looking for him. it didn’t take long before you found him.  

daeho sat with his group, leaning slightly toward jung-bae, the man who had quickly become his mentor and friend in this nightmare. they spoke in hushed voices, jung-bae’s expression firm, instructive, while daeho listened intently, nodding along. 

you couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you didn’t need to. daeho had always been quick to form connections, to find comfort in people even in the darkest situations. it was one of the things you loved about him, one of the reasons you had fallen for him so deeply.  

it made you think of how you two first met, how he had walked into that small café where you worked, how his effortless charm had wormed its way into your life before you even realized what was happening.  

this wasn’t then. this wasn’t some small, warm café in the city.  

this was hell and daeho was here with you. well, at least in the same room as you. 

you should have been relieved, should have felt safer knowing he was nearby, but instead, a deep, sinking sadness settled in your chest because when his gaze finally met yours, it wasn’t with that usual spark of lightheartedness, the kind he had when he was teasing you or when he pulled you into his arms after a long day.  

it was with quiet understanding and with concern. 

you tore your eyes away before he could read too much into the emotion behind them.  

your gaze fell onto player 222…the pregnant woman who had taken your place in your former group. she sat quietly, cradling the full swell of her stomach, her expression unreadable.  

your throat tightened. your sadness wasn’t jealousy. how could it be? nobody knew about your pregnancy. nobody knew that, like her, you were carrying a child into this nightmare but you weren’t showing. you were still small, still able to move freely without anyone questioning your condition unlike her.  

you swallowed, your hands resting over your stomach for just a second before pulling away quickly, hoping nobody noticed the motion. you weren’t worried about yourself as much as you were worried about her.  

she shouldn’t have been here and you shouldn’t have been here but the world didn’t care about fairness.  

the conversation in your group continued, pulling your attention back to the present. they were discussing the games…deciding which one each of you would play.  

the six-legged pentathlon consisted of five traditional childhood games: Ddakji, Biseokchigi, Gonggi, Paengi Chigi, and Jegi.  

your lips parted slightly, your mind running through the list, the names triggering distant memories. before you even fully processed the decision, you spoke,  

"i’ll play ddakji."  

your voice was steady, confident.  

hyun-ju, who had been leading the discussion, turned to you with an interested tilt of her head.  

"you’re good at it?"  

your fingers flexed slightly as a memory surfaced. you were good at it.  

when you were younger, you had watched the neighborhood kids play, fascinated by the way they slammed the paper tiles onto the ground, flipping their opponents’ pieces with precision.  

as a foreigner, you had been introduced to the game later than most. but that hadn’t stopped you from picking it up quickly…too quickly. within weeks, you had become undefeated, beating the same kids who had taught you the game in the first place.  

it was why you had won against the salesman on your first try.  

the thought made your stomach twist slightly.  

if you had lost that day, if you had hesitated, if the paper had landed just a little differently…you wouldn’t be here but you were. so, you forced the memories away, locking them behind the same mental wall that kept you functioning in this place.  

you looked up at hyun-ju and nodded.  

"yeah," you murmured, "i’m good at it."  

hyun-ju smiled slightly, satisfied with your answer.  

"then it’s settled," she said.  

one by one, the rest of the team chose their games.  

hyun-ju would play jegi, the mother/player 149 would play gonggi, the son chose biseokchigi, and young-mi, the quiet woman who had yet to say much, chose paengi chigi.  

everything is decided, the weight in your chest lifted just slightly.  

the last two groups made it to the finish line on time, so there were no gunshots as you stood up, stretching your stiff limbs. you glanced at hyun-ju beside you, watching as she reached up to pull her long hair into a ponytail. 

the smooth motion, the way she tied it up with effortless ease, made her look ready. you envied that. shaking off the nerves, you turned your head toward daeho’s group.  

you weren’t sure if you expected him to already be watching, but when your eyes landed on him…he was. not just him, all of them.  

jung-bae. young-il. gi-hun. even player 222, the woman who’s name you didn’t know yet. 

all of their eyes held a mixture of emotions… hope, uncertainty, fear. 

when daeho’s gaze met yours this time, it wasn’t just concern, it was something deeper. he wanted to throw up at the idea of seeing you compete for your life but there was nothing either of you could do.  

as you stood in the open space of the massive game hall, waiting for your turn, the weight of everyone’s eyes started to press down on you. you felt the silent judgments. they were boring into your skin, scrutinizing your every move, every breath.  

it wasn’t just you, it was your whole group. you turned your head slightly, noticing the way some players…mostly the stronger, more confident ones…glared at 120 and the mother in your team.  

that’s when it hit you. they thought you were weak. they looked at you all and *expected* you to fail. a group with only one man, a transgender, a young scared woman, a mother, and a foreigner who happened to be pregnant as well. you could almost hear the unspoken assumptions.   

your fingers twitched and anger simmered deep inside you, but you pushed it down.  

let them think that. let them underestimate you because as the games started, something beautiful happened. you all proved them wrong. one by one, each of you stepped up in sync, played your game, and won. 

you saw their faces change. at first, some people laughed, as if watching you all struggle would be entertaining. suddenly, each victory made the room shift and people started to cheer.  

suddenly, it was your turn to play ddakji, third in the lineup.  

you stepped forward, well as much as you can with player 120’s ankle next to yours, inhaling deeply as you held the envelope firmly in your grip. the guards placed your opponent’s piece on the ground.  

you exhaled, focusing, and calculating.  

 you threw.  

the slap of the paper hitting the ground echoed in the cheerful room.  

it took less than a second for the other piece to flip.  

“success” the guard made a circle motion with their arms. 

you barely processed it before the entire room *erupted.*  

all of the players watching cheered, however one voice cut through them all.  

"good job, baby! keep going!"  

daeho. you knew that voice anywhere.  

your heart skipped, but you didn’t turn to look. it wasn’t because you didn’t want to but because you couldn’t afford to get distracted.  

instead, you bit the inside of your cheek to fight off a smile as your group immediately led each other to the next game.  

when your team crossed the finish line with twenty seconds to spare, you let out the biggest breath of relief you had ever taken in your life. it felt like oxygen itself had returned to you. your lungs filled, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your body shaking from the sheer exhaustion of it all but you were alive. 

your hands instinctively rested on your stomach, just for a second, as if to remind yourself…she’s okay, too. as the guards motioned for the winners to exit the hall, you turned, about to follow the others…  but something pulled you back.  

when you looked over your shoulder, your breath hitched.  

daeho was already looking at you since his group hadn’t gone yet.  

they were still waiting for their turn but instead of focusing on that, instead of looking ahead—  

he was looking at you.  

you froze, just for a second, taking him in.  

what if this was the last time? what if this was the last time you’d ever see him alive?  

your heart clenched painfully in your chest.  

your lips parted slightly, and without thinking, you mouthed:  

"i love you." 

across the room, amidst all the noise, amidst all the fear, daeho held your gaze.  

daeho’s lips moved, barely a whisper, but you knew what he said.  

"i love you more."

you lingered, your eyes memorizing his face, as if it was the last time you’d be able to.  

suddenly, you force yourself to turn and you walk back to the dorms.

part two

[rottenherbs]

Just a Squib (pt.9)

Pairing: F.W x Squib! Reader Summary: With this newfound trust for Fred, you both made your way back to your appt to pack. Could he answer some questions in the mean time? W/C: 1.7k A/N: I tried my best to write this realistically as someone who had no idea of the wizarding world and how one would react to new information. Kind of a hard one! But you can sense y/n is slowly trusting Fred and letting her walls down hehe. [masterlist] Much love, Saige 

Fred left you at the counter and stepped just out of ear shot to make the phone call. Watching the back of his head shake with inaudible whispers brought you anxiety. This wasn’t the right answer. Your insistence to get answers suddenly weighed on you. Had you spoken out of fear? Fear of never knowing the answer, fear of not knowing who you were, fear of knowing who you were?

 You tried your best to not watch him, his eyes met with yours every few sentences, a soft smile as  he did his best to keep a brave face. He would constantly look to make sure you were still there. His body language was tense, the conversation visibly not going well, but his face showed an innocence that you believed. 

With a deep sigh, you turned to face the counter, fidgeting with your water cup aimlessly. The cool water grounded your senses and calmed your racing thoughts. 

Your inner doubts crept up with every passing second.

An hour ago you despised him, wanted him thrown in jail, shown and embarrassed by the masses for stalking you…but now you felt confused and childish. Asking for his help. Who have you become? 

Maybe he put a spell on you. Maybe it’s some wicked magic. Or maybe he slipped something in your drin-

Your thoughts were interrupted by Freds presence. His arrival back to the counter started you, jumping slightly at the sound of his voice.

“They said they’ll arrange something tonight for you.” Fred announced, taking his seat next to yours, he hadn’t noticed how timid you had gotten since he left. 

“Who’s “they”?” You probed, interested in any and every detail that could be told. 

“My family - well… mainly my mum I suppose. But your brother will be there.” Fred’s voice trailed off. “She’s lovely. My mum- I mean.” Fred coughed lightly, a sense of awkwardness rushing over his face.

 “I’m sorry. I suppose this all is very confusing for you. I just .. never thought i'd have to reintroduce you to my family.” His eyes met yours, happy at the idea of you relearning everything about your life, but deeply worried you wouldn’t fall back in love with him again. 

Sitting in silence for a moment, Your eyes scanned around the coffee shop, unsure what was to come next. 

“Ahem.. well we can take the floo network, if you're comfortable, otherwise I know the train system pretty well.” Fred tapped his finger against his chin, wondering how well your stomach would handle the floo network after all this time. 

“Maybe we should stick with the trains.” You interjected, already feeling a sense of unease at using magical transportation. You couldn’t remember what Floo was or how it worked, but you already were exhausted and a good long train ride might be soothing. 

“Right, that's probably for the best..” He smiled, nodding his head sheepishly. “You can ask me any questions you have on the way.” 

———

Fred walked you back to your apartment, little conversation happening as you walked. Luckily for you both it was a short jaunt, but nonetheless it was uncomfortable. The cold winds had you both tucked tightly in your jackets, walking quickly to keep up with his long strides. It was unsettling how casually he escorted you to your own apartment. He had no need for your directions, and you had no energy to give them.

Once you both got to the front of the building, Fred stood to the side and allowed you to unlock the door 

“What? Don't you want to use some spell to unlock it.” You taunted, a subtle attempt to clear the air between you two. Freds eyes lit up at the opportunity, not catching the faint sarcasm on your tongue. 

“I can if you wan-“ He started, stuffing his hand in his pocket to retrieve his wand. 

“No! No. Just-“ You held your hand out, laughing lightly at his eagerness. “Keep it in your pants. You're on thin ice you know.” You pointed a stern finger up at him before turning and unlocking the door manually. 

“Hey - you asked.” He chuffed, walking in behind you, taking his hands out of his gloves and massaging his frozen fingers. 

“Hmph.” You replied, suddenly feeling conflicted in the comedic timing of your encounter. Your mind bounced back and forth on your trust of him, yet see how the walls you kept building up were softed and broken over time. 

Tensing your shoulders, you rounded the stairs up to your appt, sensing your walls forming again. Before you both arrived at your room, you turned and faced him.

”Have you ever come to my apartment?” You asked with strong conviction. Freds brows furrowed, as if the question was insane to ask. 

“No dear god no. Never inside.” He shook his head, showing a firm persistence of absolute belief in his words. “That was always a rule. From the start.. but your brother was the one to break that one.” His hand scratched the back of his head sheepishly. You couldn't tell if he was annoyed that your brother broke it, or if he was just too scared to do it himself. 

“The package.” You whispered, suddenly feeling like things were coming together, small puzzle pieces latching together in your mind with each new bit of information. 

Fred watched your eyes dart, suddenly fretting your keys between your fingers, attempting to open the door to your apartment quickly. He knew to let you take it at your own pace, but worried how’d it all settle. 

Scrambling around your apartment, you stepped over your whining cat, searching your desk space for the round object.

”Who is this sweet thing?” Fred lulled, picking up the large orange cat and holding it close to his chest. 

Your mind wandered over your belongings, suddenly worried that you had lost the orb. Realizing that you had been moving too fast, you took a deep breath and took a step back, focusing for a moment on Fred. 

“I um.. never named him.” You shrugged, watching him caress the feline sweetly, swaying him softly as he took small steps left and right. “I suppose he is just Cat.” You added disapprovingly. Saying it out loud made it seem worse, you loved that cat more than life itself. 

“Never named him? That’s downright awful.” He spoke, planting small yet feverish kisses across the cats face and body. He squirmed lightly in his arms, settling after a moment. You were astonished by how comfortable he was in Freds arms, so quickly. If only the cat had warmed up to you that fast. 

“What can I say, commitment hasn’t exactly come easy to me.” You chuckled sarcastically, finally seeing a small sparkle out of the corner of your eye. Snatching the orb and holding it out in front of you, your eyes became more focused, waiting for Fred to notice. 

“Ah yes.” He said softly. His demeanor changed ever so slightly, suddenly back from his daze to reality. For a second he relished in the calm atmosphere he shared with the cat in your space, all while forgetting the tall task that was in front of him. 

“It’s a snitch.” Fred said plainly. 

“A snitch? It can listen to me!” You held it closely to your ear, hoping to hear small ticks or cranks as if it was a small microphone. Your eyes widened in fear. 

“Noooo no no no no.” He laughed, letting the cat drop to the floor. He held his hand out urging you to pass the orb. 

“It’s a wizarding sport.” He threw it in the air a few times, catching it flawlessly. “Your brother was a seeker, a mighty good one at that. He has to find this in a field and catch it.” He caught it once more, holding it softly between his forefinger and thumb, activating a small click and revealing two incredibly thin wings on either side. The snitch hovered in the air between you two before moving around the room. 

You felt your stomach drop at the sight. It moved as if it was living, the beat of the wings flapped at such a velocity it reminded you of a golden hummingbird. It flew around your head as if it was tied to you, barely slow enough to keep your eyes on it. 

“Its…” you started, holding your hand out to catch it, missing several times. 

“Frustrating?” Fred laughed, watching you intensely. 

“Fantastic.” You whispered, mesmerized entirely. You suddenly felt like everything Fred had spoken of was real, not fiction. This small beautiful piece of magic was in front of you, and a gift from your supposed brother nonetheless. 

“Here. Just hold it steady.” Fred walked over, reaching to your wrist and holding your arm out. You flinched slightly at the touch, but relaxed as he kept his eyes on the snitch. Your heart raced, but allowed him to continue, intrigued. 

Your hand shook slightly in the air, the room becoming silent between you twos; only the sound of the small mechanical zoom of the snitch barely audible. 

In a minute's time, the snitch hovered around your hand, acting almost curious to your gesture before quickly slipping the wings back in place and landing heavily in your palm. You clasped it quickly, not sure if it would fly away again. 

You looked at Fred with childlike wonder, a large smile plastered across your face as soon as you caught it. 

His heart ached, wishing he could snatch you up himself. To hold you tightly between his arms like he used to. He could see your spark come back, one moment at a time. 

You shoved the snitch in your coat pocket, a deep sense of relief came over you, finally understanding what the gift was. Clearing your throat, you looked around your room, unsure where to start. 

“How much should I pack?”

[dirtbagwitch]

MAGIC FOR THE CITY DWELLER

CHAPTER ONE: WELCOME TO THE CONCRETE JUNGLE, WHERE MAGIC NEVER SLEEPS

magic isn’t just for the deep woods and moss-covered stones. it’s not limited to candlelit covens or ancient runes etched in a sacred grove. magic is where you are. in the humming neon signs, the flickering streetlamps, the rhythm of bus doors opening and closing, in the energy of walking amongst a crowd on a busy street.

urban magic is about finding the mystical in the mundane, harnessing the city’s restless energy, and using every graffiti tag, liminal space, cracked pavement, and forgotten coin as a tool for enchantment. the city is alive—a churning, breathing, chaotic organism—and if you listen closely, it’s whispering spells in the wind between skyscrapers.

this isn’t some high-brow, ceremonial magic doctrine. here, we work with sigils written on coffee shop napkins, metro card protection spells, and phone screens charged as scrying mirrors. this is magic for the streets, for the punks, for the witches in walk-ups and studio apartments, for the ones who find the divine in the hum of a dive bar at 3 AM.

WHAT MAKES URBAN MAGIC DIFFERENT?

the biggest shift between traditional and urban magic is the environment. instead of sacred groves, we have community gardens. instead of rivers, we have storm drains. instead of bonfires, we have neon lights and power grids pulsing with raw electricity.

but just because the setting is different doesn’t mean the magic is weaker. city magic is potent as hell, because it’s charged with movement, history, technology, and millions of lives overlapping in real-time.

ELEMENTS IN AN URBAN CONTEXT:

• earth → concrete, bricks, asphalt, parks and park dirt

• air → the wind between high-rises, the whispers of overheard conversations, the endless streams of information moving across the city

• fire → electricity, neon lights, the heat of a crowded bus, a match or lighter

• water → rain pooling in the streets, sewer systems, fountains in public squares, water dripping from rooftops

• spirit → the city itself, the collective energy of its people, the ghosts in old buildings, the echoes of everyone who’s walked these streets before you

this practice isn’t about forcing the old ways into a modern setting. it’s about adapting magic so that it fits your world, your reality, your city.

THEORY & FRAMEWORK: CHAOS MAGIC, QUEER MAGIC, AND CITY SPELLS

urban magic thrives on three key principles:

1. ADAPTATION – use what’s around you. city witches need to be resourceful as hell. your “wand” can be a pen, a drumstick, or a crowbar if that’s what speaks to you (though a crowbar is a little extreme). your “altar” can be a windowsill, a shoebox, or even temporary like the back of a bus seat where you traced a sigil in the condensation.

2. INGENUITY – urban magic is subtle, fast, and often disguised. your ritual circle might be drawn in spilled coffee, your sigils hidden in street art, your glamour spells worked through fashion choices and body language.

3. INTERACTION – the city is alive. talk to it. work with the spirits of your apartment building, the crows and raven and wandering city cats who see a lot, the graffiti messages that seem to answer your questions in cryptic scrawls, street names that feel like answers to questions. trust your gut, keep watch for the synchronicity

MAGICAL SYSTEMS THAT THRIVE IN THE CITY:

1. CHAOS MAGIC: THE DIY APPROACH TO WITCHCRAFT

urban magic truthfully falls under the umbrella of chaos magic.

chaos magic is sort of like punk rock spellwork. no rules except what works. it’s the belief that magic isn’t just about ancient texts and strict traditions—it’s about belief as a tool. hacking reality, using symbols, and experimenting with what actually gets results. if something stops working you chuck it and move on to something new.

• create sigils from street signs, corporate logos, and subway maps.

• use “reality hacking” spells—like placing intent in a QR code or whispering an incantation into a social media post before it goes viral.

• swap out outdated correspondences for modern tools—your phone can be your scrying mirror, your router a beacon for intention-setting.

chaos magic thrives in the city because cities are chaotic. they’re full of random encounters, glitches, synchronicities waiting to be tapped into.

2. QUEER MAGIC: BREAKING RULES, BENDING REALITY

witchcraft has always been the domain of outsiders, rebels, and the marginalized. queer magic embraces fluidity, resistance, and radical self-expression.

• use genderfluid deities, archetypes, and spirits in your workings.

• cast spells at drag shows, pride marches, and underground raves—because those are modern sacred spaces.

• turn self-love into a spell, defying the narratives that say queer people don’t deserve power, joy, or love.

urban queer magic is loud, unapologetic, and built on the bones of those who paved the way before.

TOOLS & MATERIALS: USING THE CITY AS YOUR SPELLBOOK

urban witches don’t need fancy supplies. we use:

• 📱 smart phones – scrying mirrors, digital sigil boards, enchanted playlists

• 🎫 metro cards & transit tickets – protection charms, travel blessings

• 🗝 keys – for unlocking opportunities, closing doors that need to stay shut

• 🖋 pens & sharpies – sigil-making, graffiti spellwork

• 🪙 spare change – prosperity charms, offerings to city spirits

• 🧾 receipts – paper magic, petition spells, glamour workings

if it exists in your daily life, it can be a tool.

EVERYDAY SPELLS & RITUALS

🔮 PROTECTION SPELLS FOR NAVIGATING CITY LIFE

• “doorway ward” – rub salt along your threshold, whispering “no harm may cross this line.”

• “metro shield” – imagine a glowing energy bubble around you before stepping onto public transit.

💰 PROSPERITY & SUCCESS SPELLS

• “lucky coin” – pick up a found coin, say “bring me fortune,” and carry it for a week.

• “resume enchantment” – anoint your job applications with cinnamon for luck before sending.

💡 HACKING REALITY WITH CHAOS MAGIC

• “digital sigils” – set a sigil as your phone wallpaper and charge it every time you unlock your screen.

• “parking spell” – whisper “open the way” as you search for a spot—watch as one appears.

🌀 COMMUNITY SPELLS & URBAN COLLECTIVE MAGIC

• “city-wide sigil work” – drop the same symbol in different places and see what manifests.

• “full moon offerings” – leave a quarter at a crossroads to honor the city’s spirits.

THE CITY IS YOUR ALTAR

this is your grimoire, your spellbook, your guide to turning the city into a magical playground. don’t just live in it—work with it, enchant it, let it enchant you back.

magic is everywhere, babes. you just have to know where to look.

[melodi-jackson]

🌌~✨♾️Paragon♾️✨~🌌

I made another tsams/leas/ and an eaps oc

Meet paragon! They aren’t an astral being and is NOT related with star power. They do have a very deep connection with the astral bodies and other celestial entities. They are VERY ancient. They are an eldritch cosmic entity with the ability to create and destroy life. This isn’t there original form, they look like a dca attendant model which they are very fond of but why do they look like a dca attendant model? There’s a WHOLE lore story behind it.

Pronouns: they/them

Gender: none

Age: ??? (Ancient, immortal)

Alignment: lawful neutral

Personality: ???

An ancient eldritch cosmic entity which they are known to represent “the pillar of creation, balance, perfection and destruction”

There are more pillars, they only know a few other pillars and some of those they are familiar with and have a close bond. There’s only two pillars who they know and relatively close to and have a special bond known as the pillars of Suns and Moons :)

Very fond of dca attendant models and obsessed with advanced technology

They are responsible for every aspect of existence and responsible for everything to exist that’s yet to die eventually.

They know everything.

♾️✨Powers/ Abilities✨♾️

Has the ability to create all life for those in misfortune and the ability create destruction and rain down despair and misery to cruel, unforgiving souls

Can naturally produce and absorb energy

Has an infinite digestive system

Regeneration

manifestation

Divination

Purification

Restoration Magic

Gravitokinesis

spatiokinesis

realitokinesis

Astro-Psionics

Astrokinetic Combat

Astral Manipulation

Astral Projection

Black Hole Creation

Black Hole Manipulation

Constellation Creation

Inter-stellar travel

Cosmic Awareness

Cosmic Concentration

Cosmic Constructs

Cosmic Conversion

Cosmic Creation

Cosmic Defense

Cosmic Deformation

Cosmic Destruction

Cosmic Earth Manipulation

Cosmic Element Manipulation

Cosmic Empowerment

Cosmic Energy Absorption

Cosmic Energy Manipulation

Cosmic Fire Manipulation

Cosmic Generation

Cosmic Immunity

Cosmic Manipulation

Cosmic Medium Manipulation

Cosmic Pressure

Cosmic Projection

Cosmic Radiation Generation

Cosmic Solidification

Cosmic Storm

Cosmic Telekinesis

Cosmic Warping

Cosmic Water Manipulation

Cosmic Weaponry

Cosmic Weather Manipulation

Cosmic Wind Manipulation

Cosmic-Electric Manipulation

Cosmological Force Manipulation

Esoteric Cosmic Manipulation

Galactic Energy Manipulation

Galaxy Attacks

Galaxy Creation

Galaxy Destruction

Galaxy Manipulation

Gyrokinetic Combat

Heliokinetic Combat

Infernal Manipulation

Magic Portal Creation

Magical Telekinesis

Planet Creation

Planetary System Creation

Planetary System Destruction

Planetary System Manipulation

Plant Destruction

Platform Creation

Solar Energy Manipulation

Solar Generation

Solar Manipulation

Space Energy Manipulation

Space Wind Defiance

Star Creation

Star Destruction

Stellar Energy Manipulation

Stellar Generation

Stellar Manipulation

Stellar Manipulation

Stellar Pillar Projection

Void Manipulation

White Hole Creation

White Hole Manipulation

telescopic vision

morphing

soul creation

soul destruction

(power list is very LONG im still writing it 🥲👍)

[gxr25256]

A Skyward Promise - Thundercracker x Reader (3)

🌵 If there are any mistakes, please forgive me, my illness makes me quite distracted 🥲.

🌵 Anyway enjoy the story.

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

The sun was barely cresting the horizon when you set out, the early morning air crisp against your skin. In your backpack, you’d packed carefully: a small canister of gasoline—something you figured Thundercracker might find useful, though you weren’t entirely sure how Cybertronian fuel worked—and a DVD of Top Gun, a movie you thought might resonate with a Seeker who once ruled the skies. The weight of the bag felt grounding, a reminder of the strange, exhilarating connection you’d forged with a Decepticon over the past two days.

As you approached, the faint hum of his systems greeted you, a low vibration that seemed to pulse through the earth. The barn’s rusted doors creaked as you approached, and you called out softly, “Thundercracker? You in there?”

A low rumble answered, followed by the sound of metal shifting. His blue optics glowed faintly in the dim interior as he stepped forward, his towering form filling the doorway. “You’re back,” he said, his voice gruff but laced with something softer—surprise, maybe. “Didn’t think you’d show up again so soon.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, setting your backpack down on a patch of dry grass. “Figured I’d bring you something.” You unzipped the bag, pulling out the gasoline canister first. “Not sure if this is useful to you, but… thought it might be.”

Thundercracker tilted his helm, studying the canister with a raised optic ridge. “Human fuel,” he mused, taking it gingerly between two massive digits. “Not exactly my grade, but… thoughtful.” His tone softened at the last word, and you felt a small thrill at the acknowledgment.

“Oh thanks, it’s the best I could do on short notice,” you said, laughing. “Thought it might help with… I don’t know, something. You’re a giant robot; you probably burn through energy like crazy.”

He huffed, a sound that might’ve been a chuckle if he’d let it. “It’s… appreciated.” His gaze shifted to the movie disc, and one optic ridge arched. “And this?”

“Oh, that’s a classic,” you said, holding it up proudly. “Top Gun. Figured a flyer like you might get a kick out of it. Jets, dogfights, cheesy ‘80s music—it’s got it all.”

Thundercracker took the disc gingerly between two massive fingers, turning it over like it was an alien artifact. “You humans and your obsession with screens. Alright, I’ll bite.” he muttered, but there was no real bite to it. He set it aside, his optics flicking back to you. “So, what’s the plan? You just gonna keep bringing me trinkets like some kind of offering?”

You laughed, settling onto a nearby crate. “Maybe. But mostly I just wanted to talk. You know, like normal people.” You paused, then added with a teasing grin, “Or, well, normal people and giant alien robots.”

He snorted, but he didn’t respond right away, instead setting the DVD down carefully beside the gasoline. And leaning back against the barn wall, the structure groaning under his weight.

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. The two of you fell into an easy rhythm, talking about small things—the weather, the way the barn creaked in the wind, the oddities of human culture that Thundercracker still found baffling. He told you about a time he’d accidentally startled a flock of birds mid-flight, his dry humor slipping through as he described their indignant squawking. You laughed, and for a moment, he seemed to relax, his massive frame less guarded than it had been the day before.

But as the conversation lulled, your mind drifted back to something he’d said yesterday, a fleeting mention that had stuck with you. “Hey,” you said, your voice softer now, “you mentioned flying yesterday. Just… casually, like it was nothing. But it’s not nothing, right? What’s it like?”

Thundercracker’s optics snapped to you, and for a second, you wondered if you’d crossed a line. He shifted, his servos flexing at his sides. “What’s it like?” he echoed, his tone guarded. “It’s… freedom. The closest thing to it, anyway. Up there, it’s just you, the wind, and the sky. No orders, no war. Just… being.”

You nodded, absorbing his words. “But you miss it, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer right away, but the way his wings twitched—barely told you enough.You could almost feel the weight of his thoughts, the conflict brewing behind those glowing optics. You hesitated, your next words caught in your throat. It was a big ask, maybe too big, but the image of him soaring through the sky was too vivid to let go “Thundercracker… could you—would you ever fly again? Could you… show me?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

The air in the barn seemed to still. Thundercracker’s optics widened, and for a moment, he looked almost startled. Fly? Here, on this backwater planet, where every move could draw unwanted optics? The idea was reckless. Dangerous. Humans had their sensors, their militaries. If they spotted him, it’d be a mess—capture, dissection, or worse. And Decepticons… if Starscream caught wind of him exposing himself, he’d never hear the end of it. Or worse, Megatron might take an interest. Autobots were another problem entirely. Optimus and his do-gooders would probably try to “save” the human, and that’d complicate everything.

But the skies… Primus, he missed them. The rush of air over his chassis, the weightlessness, the way the world fell away until it was just him and the horizon. He hadn’t flown properly since he’d crashed here, nursing that slagging wound in his wing. It was healed now, the nanites finally doing their job, but he’d been cautious. Too cautious, maybe. Grounded, he felt like half a mech, his spark aching for the freedom he’d taken for granted on Cybertron.

And then there was them. This human-you- with your earnest eyes and fearless curiosity. You weren’t like the others he’d encountered—scared or scheming. You looked at him like he was more than a machine, more than a weapon. Those eyes… you were bright, alive, and when you’d asked to see him fly, there was something in them that stole his words. Hope, maybe. Trust. It made his spark pulse in a way that was unfamiliar, almost unsettling.

He wanted to say no. He should say no. It was the smart move, the Decepticon move. But when he opened his mouth, the words wouldn’t come. He saw the way you leaned forward, waiting, believing in him. And for reasons he couldn’t name, he didn’t want to let you down.

The silence stretched, and you felt your nerve falter. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have—” you started, but he cut you off.

“Evening,” he said abruptly. “We do it in the evening. Less chance of being seen.”

Your eyes widened, a grin spreading across your face before you could stop it. “Really? You’ll do it?”

He shifted, looking almost… embarrassed? “Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he grumbled, turning his head slightly. If a robot could cough, you swore he’d be doing it now, trying to cover up whatever passed for Cybertronian shyness.

You laughed, unable to help it. “Okay, okay. Evening it is. Where?”

“There’s a wooded area, west of your city. Secluded. Meet me there tomorrow, just after dusk.” His optics flicked back to you, and you could’ve sworn there was a hint of warmth in them. “And don’t be late.”

“I won’t,” you promised, still grinning. The idea of seeing him fly, of witnessing something so fundamentally him, made your chest feel light. “Thanks, Thundercracker. This means a lot.”

Thundercracker looked away, his wings shifting as if to hide his embarrassment. He made a low, rumbling sound . “Yeah, well… don’t get too excited. It’s just a flight.”

But you could tell he was flustered, and it only made your grin wider. You stood, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. “I should head back before it gets too dark. But I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? And… thanks again , Thundercracker. Really.”

He didn’t respond, just gave a curt nod, but his optics followed you as you left the barn, a faint glow in the fading light.

Back at your house, you couldn’t sit still. The thought of seeing Thundercracker fly—actually fly—kept your heart racing. You tried to distract yourself with chores, then dinner, but your mind kept drifting to tomorrow. What would it be like? Would he soar like the jets in Top Gun, or was it something entirely different? You fell asleep with a smile, dreaming of wings cutting through the sky.

Meanwhile, in the barn, Thundercracker sat in the dark, the Top Gun disc playing on the battered portable DVD player you’d left him last time. The screen flickered with images of jets roaring through the sky, but his optics barely registered them. His processor was elsewhere, tangled in thoughts he didn’t recognize as his own.

This was reckless. Stupid, even. He’d only known this human for two days, and here he was, agreeing to risk exposure just to show off. On Cybertron, he’d never have done something so impulsive. He was a Seeker, a warrior, not some sentimental mech chasing feelings. But when he thought of your face, the way your eyes had lit up, his spark did that strange, rapid pulse again. It wasn’t just the flying. It was you. The way you looked at him, like he was worth seeing. He wanted to see that look again, wanted to be the reason for it.

He shook his helm, optics narrowing. “Get it together,” he muttered to himself. Maybe you were right about the TV—too much of it was scrambling his circuits. Or maybe it was you, this human who’d stumbled into his life and turned everything upside down. Either way, he needed to recharge. But as he slipped into a low-power state, his thoughts weren’t of Cybertron or the war. They were of you, and the sky, and the wind he’d feel tomorrow.

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

[legrzybek]

i wanna introduce my very cool regretevator oc + my selfship of her and folly on here ^_^

i hope someone likes her as i've put a lot of effort into her & her story,,she's probably my proudest and dearest creation, she means a lot to me :>

GUHH SHE REALLY NEEDS A NEW REF BC ITS THE FIRST EVER DRAWING I MADE OF HER AND ITS UGLY BUT I CANT BE ARSED TO REMAKE IT 💔💔i did folly so dirty ong

more info + art of her under the cut :D

Cinder is an angel who after many years of complicated, repeatedly badly ending relations with her peers and following heaven's standards, has become bitter and hateful. The pent-up rage in her caused her to truly test the limits of her powers on the humans she was supposed to watch over, both as an act of rebellion and for her own personal sick satisfaction of sorts.

Once heaven caught wind of this, they deemed her a failure in their whole system and wanted to be rid of her. They couldn't strip her of her power or kill her, so they sealed it in her and imprisoned her in the very ruins she created.

The sealing of her power took a toll on her both mentally and physically, making her feel more weak, drowsy and numb for some time. All she can do is aimlessly wander around the once bustling town she destroyed. Try to find something to occupy herself with. But it's all pointless. All she wishes for is to be put out of her misery, however her immortality doesn't let her.

But there's something. Something she sees whenever she passes out from sheer exhaustion, or tries to sleep just to make time go forward. Like a distant red light, trying to break in, drawn to her suffering.

One day, she finally hears a voice in her slumber. Taunting words, belonging to someone she's never met before. Yet she has no energy or desire to snap back. She just listens, and nods along.

This goes on for who knows how long. She can't keep track of the hours, days or even months anymore. Every day, she converses with the woman in her dreams, as she very slowly recovers from her fatigue.

She is lonely. Desperate. She finds some kind of odd comfort in the parasite's presence. Cinder knows she isn't well-intentioned, but does she care? At least someone is there. Someone to speak to.

Yet, Folly... after all this, strangely enough, she pities the fallen angel. Even if at first, all she wanted is to feed on her misery, she can't help but feel some sort of sympathy for the woman im front of her. It's confusing to her. Why does she feel this way? She hates it.

''You'll find a way out, eventually." She continuously reassures the angel.

...And eventually, a door opens amongst the rubble.

An elevator on the other side.

GO MY EVIL YURI

i can only fit a few drawings in,,,...ough,,so i might make more art dump posts

[trombonechurchill]

mel/santos ♡

Send me non-sexual intimacy prompts!

Oh you think you're cute, I see how it is

♡: Accidentally falling asleep together

-----

Trinity had a system. One honed throughout high school and then well perfected through college and med school. She knew just the right balance of caffeine and energy drink intake to keep herself on her feet and hands steady without the crash. At least. Normally.

The Pitt wasn't pretty, that was for sure, but Trinity was thriving. She'd survived varsity lacrosse, she could survive her ER rotation no sweat. But God if it wasn't tempting to join Mel right now.

She wasn't sure when it'd happened. One second they were in the breakroom, chairs pressed closer and closer to match the quiet drag of conversation. Mel talked quickly, sure, lilting sentences that sometimes stuttered to awkward stops that had Trinity twist a smile into the corners of her mouth as she watched Mel wind herself back up again, but Mel always kept herself soft. Quieter. Like she was compensating for the loud chaos of the ER outside.

Next she knew Mel was tucked against her shoulder, mouth slack, the soft fabric of her shirt ("No tags, it's just more comfortable, you know?") pressing against Trinity's arm.

She watched the soft play of Mel's lashes over her cheeks as she breathed, holding her own breath as she reached to gently tug and snag her glasses from her face. She'd have a heck of a crick in her neck but that wasn't like it was Trinity's problem. At least she didn't need these pressing into her arm, she thought, reveling in the brush of her fingers across Mel's face as she pulled them free.

Glasses settled on the table in front of them, Trinity sat back in her chair, careful to not jostle Mel free. Maybe her system could use a few adjustments, she thought, chancing a glance at the clock before resting her head ever so slightly against the crown of Mel's hair. Maybe she could benefit from closing her eyes too. Just for a minute.

[orions-choker]

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Serial Killers, Murder, Obsessions, Yandere tendencies, Gore, more to be added.

Chapter Twelve

A/N: Hoooh boy were winding down to the end, I think I have two more chapters for you guys after this <3 Hope you enjoy.

Settling into the fact that she knew was an uncomfortable feeling. The room had been devoid of their voices for hours. She already knew she was wrong for having stayed. Her knees curled up to her chin as her eyes stayed steady on Kirk’s figure. His hands were busy tracing along his guitar, plucking away mindlessly. Still, she thought about those pretty lean hands wrapped around the rough handle of his kitchen blade instead. It was dizzying the way he was so easy and lazy about continuing through the motions. Like the previous conversation hadn’t even happened he smiled at her sweetly when he caught her staring at him. He shifted his body weight, readjusting the body of the guitar where it rested on his bent leg. He parted his lips to speak before deciding against it. She was thankful for that. The silence between them was the only thing stopping her from going on another insane psychobabble rant. He was good at guitar, she had known that from the first day she had been in his room. She missed that day, things had been so easy. The moment she had settled into his room to listen to that record with him, watching him learn each riff. He had been so sweet and dorky and god he still looked like that boy. Yet distinctly she remembered the uneasy feeling that had settled over her skin the entire time. Her body had been screaming at her this whole time that she was in danger and she hadn’t listened, god why had she not listened. Now she couldn’t appreciate his skills the way she wanted to. Looming at the back of her mind was that night at the bar that he had played. The dripping heard in the alley, the strong metallic scent in the air so thick she could still taste it. How he had crept up behind her, the way his arms curled around her and his hand heavy over his mouth as he muffled her scream. Maybe he had been trying to kill her then…no, no he hadn’t. That had been his last victim, she was pretty sure anyways, no other bodies had turned up after that and she was positive he was killed with the intent of them being found.

“How long had she been dead when I went outside that night?” She asked in a small whisper, a little afraid to know the answer but mostly curious. Had his hands just been freshly scrubbed of the blood coating them? Maybe if she had braved the dark just a bit more she would have found the girl, would she have been in a state to be saved if she had? The what ifs and the guilt ricocheted off the confines of her mind. She wanted to puke. Kirk’s hands paused, his brows furrowed in confusion. She watched, able to see the way he combed through his thoughts like a sick filing system of every crime he committed, trying to remember what she was talking about. It stuck out so vividly to her but for him it had been another fucking Monday. Finally she watched his dark eyes brighten slightly. “Oh,” He mumbled, his fingers pausing against the thick strings they pressed against. “Awhile,” He nodded. He frowned, it wasn’t guilt over the crime he felt, just guilt over the way she was feeling. Y/N was thankful he didn’t go into any more detail than that. It eased her guilt ever so slightly, enough for her to breathe again. At Least she knew she couldn’t have saved that girl. God what the fuck is wrong with you? Her face scrunched up, lips curled into a deep frown as she mentally berated herself for that line of thinking. “You’re disgusting.” She mumbled. “I know,” Kirk sighed, it felt like he was almost annoyed with the conversation. She could feel the anxious energy in him, he wanted to get over this already, pretend like it didn’t exist. As if the revelation wasn't that he was a murderer. How could a boy so anxious and nervous like this be capable of taking innocent life. God she just couldn’t wrap her head around it. Like if she continued to question everything she knew she could find an answer. There was no answer though, no justification. Maybe she just needed to give it up. Absently she rubbed her hands along her still bare thighs, digging her nails into fresh bite marks he had left in her skin. The feeling that he wanted to genuinely eat her alive had never faded, now it only felt more real. It was like being close wasn't enough, needed her inside him to feel whole.  There were no signs on any of the victims of consumption. That was a desire unique to her, and it made her warm with a sick sense of pride. “If you killed me would it be different, would you treat me any differently?” She asked with a disgusting curiosity. Kirk looked at her like she had hit him. The way his mouth dropped open in disgust like what she had just said was worse than anything he had ever done. “I already said I will never hurt you.” He emphasized. His knuckles went white as he gripped the neck of his guitar. Her eyes glazed over slightly as she trained her gaze on the veins threatening to burst from his skin, the strain of his knuckles, that's what his hands would look like around his throat. “What the fuck is wrong with you.” The snap of his voice made her frown and flinch. There was that unmistakable look on his face, that so quickly switched from doe-eyed and needy to burning anger. From prey to predator. “It's a hypothetical.” She defended herself. It sounded like domestic bickering, not even a full blown fight. “I just want-” She paused and swallowed the words. I want to feel special. 

“For someone so disgusted by me you sure are interested to know every detail.” He hummed, callously calling her out. He was right. He pouted at her, face going all soft and gentle again. “I don’t want to talk about it, I don't want to think about you getting hurt, I love you.” He insisted and placed his guitar back on the stand as he got up. He hadn’t crossed the invisible line she had drawn across the room in hours and a weird sense of relief washed through her when he got close again. She sat up on her knees as he approached the bed. Her arms wrapped around his neck in a soft hug. “I know you do.” She whispered, it was the only thing she did know. He loved her in every fucked up twisted way he was capable of.  She hummed when he wrapped his arms in turn around her waist and crushed her against him. So, so warm. “I love you too,” That was getting easier to say without the crushing feeling of shame. “What happens if they catch you?” Gentle patterns were drawn across her skin as he pushed his face deep into her neck. He was soothing her, pressing butterfly-light kisses into her like silent promises. “They won’t.” She blinked open her eyes to look behind him out the window, a gentle coating of burnt orange blanketed the room. The late summer sunset finally settled over them and with it came the new comfort of night, they could be hidden under the dim lighting of the stars. “I promise, I made sure nothing could ever pry me away from you.” His grip tightened, briefly painful before relaxing again. How could he be so sure of that? He wasn’t actually spectacular at hiding it considering… “I figured it out and I’m no detective.” She whispered. She half expected him to flip the switch again, his sweet voice to go all shrill and harsh again as he snapped at her. Instead, he laughed. The warm innocent laugh she loved, boyish and untainted by his sins.

“I wanted you to figure it out.” He pulled away from her neck to look at her again. Rubbing his thumbs just beneath her eyes to coax her into opening them. Angelic. The word repeated in her head every time she looked at him. This wasn’t a monster, couldn’t be. Purposefully she deluded herself. “I never want to keep anything from you, you know that right?” He pressed a gentle kiss against her hairline. “We’re partners, no lies.” Partner . The word instantly curdled her stomach. Partner implied she helped, that she willingly complied with him. It was the cold water of reality that finally washed over her. Her eyes snapped back into the focus she hadn’t realized she had lost. The room wasn’t warm, his hands felt cold and painful, and standing before her was a pretty boy with a fucked up empty look in his eyes. Sick, she was going to be sick. All the color drained from her face and she scrambled to get his hands off her before pushing off the bed and skidding into the bathroom across the hall. Hunched over the porcelain she could hear the sickly concern in Kirk’s voice as he gathered her hair back away from her face. His hand rubbing across her shoulders did nothing to comfort her. He loved her, that much was clear. She loved him but that couldn’t scrub away how wrong it was. She had to be better than this, she couldn’t be selfish. She wouldn’t be his partner. When she finished she sat back on her heels, tears brimming the corners of her eyes. “Sorry,” She mumbled thick and watery. “I think it’s just been too much stress from everything.” She lied. Kirk nodded as he leaned down next to her. His hold on her did nothing to remove the cold that was seeping into her from the bathroom tiles beneath her bare legs. He was shushing her, hands gently running over her hair, smoothing it away from her clammy face. “Yeah I bet,” He whispered in all his faux loving concern. “Just relax, okay, let's stop talking about this, I’ll put on a movie.” He offered. It was like he was comforting her from a bad day and not the revelation her boyfriend was a serial killer. She supposed that was a bad day, the worst actually. 

“Yeah, that, that sounds nice I'm sorry I-” Y/N swallowed hard. She could play this off, just to the end of the weekend. She had been doing fine before, just needed to make it through. “Sorry I need to brush my teeth.” She let out a weak laugh as Kirk gathered her crumpled form off the floor. Leaning all her weight against the counter, her body still weak from upheaving everything inside her. Kirk grabbed the toothbrush that she had left here, sitting delicately in the holder beside his, and loaded it for her. He held her upright with all the gentleness of a good boyfriend as she scrubbed her mouth clean from the acidic taste until all that remained was mint that could convince herself she was clean. 

He doted on her, unaware, blissfully so. Gentle hands, fresh water, soothing words whispered in her ear. This time she didn’t allow herself to get lost in it. Didn’t dwell on the what-ifs and the thoughts about all the potential they could have had. How they really could have been perfect. She played her role well, a better actor than she had been before. Let him fuck her slow and gentle when she felt better, everything she needed to do to sell her position, her compliance. No matter how filthy and rotted it made her feel. It didn’t feel selfish anymore, it was selfless. She was the sacrificial lamb to end more slaughters. If she did this, pulled it off, she could bring true justice. Not the rage induced self inflicted justice she had weighed in her mind at first. No, she would leave Kirk rotting behind bars for the rest of his life, or preferably strapped in the electric chair. God could forgive her for these indiscretions if it was for the greater good. Sunday came and Y/N kissed him sweet and slow on the front porch of his house, the routine that had come to them each weekend. “My parents are having my going away dinner on Wednesday, you’ll be there right?” She asked. He wouldn’t, she would make sure of that. He would never step foot in her house again, never press his lips to hers again. It hurt, made her insides feel all twisted and knotted because she loved him, she really did. But this couldn't be forgiven. She was a good person, she was. Kirk's face fell at the mention of her leaving again. His lips pulled into a soft pout, dark eyes flicking away from hers again. “Yeah of course I’ll be there.” He sighed, squeezing her hands just a little tighter, like it could hold her in place. “I would never miss it.” With a final kiss to her cheek he released her hands. Leaning against the frame of his front door he watched her walk across the connecting lawn back to her house. Giving her a small wave and crooked smile as she looked at him over her shoulder once more. This was it, this is the way she wanted to remember him. Bathed in soft morning light, face easy and relaxed, yearning. The cute awkward way his body moved. She would lock this feeling away deep in her heart, the love she lost. It was for her and her only. She would leave the rest to shrivel and die. Flashing her teeth at him in a bright smile she disappeared inside her house. 

Instantly her legs felt like jelly. The exhaustion from pretending finally came tumbling down on her and she wretched out a sob that echoed off the walls of her otherwise empty house. Thankful for the peace to let her grieve in peace, mourning every possibility she could have had with Kirk. With all the strength she could muster she pushed herself off the door, stumbling further into her house. Trembling hands outstretched for the phone sitting unassuming on the receiver. She was going to need therapy after this to ever feel comfortable calling someone again. First the empty threats on her life and now she would be the undoing of the boy she loved. Sucking in a breath she tried to fill her lungs, the action forcing uneven wheezes from deep within her chest. She pushed her finger into the dial and pulled. 

9 

Again her finger hooked on the plastic and tugged. 

1

She hesitated, staring down at her trembling hands. Knuckles red and splotchy, nails bitten down to the skin, raw and angry. 

1

With the phone tucked in between her ear and her shoulder she listened to the deafening ring, once, twice. She was underwater, the deadpan voice that answered her on the other end sounded like nothing more than noncoherent mumbling but finally Y/N was able to force her voice out. Barely above a whisper she spoke, “I’d like to make an anonymous tip to the police department please.”

[weepingflowerbonkcop]

I'm trying to finish these headcannons before moving on. I'd be more than happy to answer any questions about the headcannons. Enjoy reading!

Warnings: Wild being Wild, nothing else.

What the Chain thinks about a Modern! Reader using slang/meme references:

Part 2

Sky

• Sky has some basic education for Skyloft. I'd say he finished high school standards for them, but elementary in our standards. He's still pretty smart but just doesn't show it as much as Four does.

• Sky didn't know what to think of when he first heard modern slang.

• He's one of those people that pretend like they know what you're talking about. Reader would be talking casually and Sky would nod his head, listening intently even if he really doesn't understand.

• He likes it when reader goes to talk to him, but sometimes he'd like subtitles to exist.

• He goes to Four and Wind whenever he doesn't understand a word, hoping that they'd be able to give him some indication/translation of it.

• Memes on the other hand - he's actually pretty good at understanding them. He might not find all of them funny but he does manage to catch what they're about.

• He's that person that hears a joke and goes into a full detailed interrogation of the joke. Something like, "Yeah nah, the bro took his cuzy out to the pub. After he met this nice sheela and got a nice rootin' only to find out the day after it was no sheela." Him not knowing what's going on just goes, "So, you've told me before that a 'she - lah' is a girl, yes? And you've also said a 'bro' is a shorter term for brother. So, what does 'cuzy' mean and what does the root have to do with the story?"

• After you do a break down of the slang he just lights up with a 'ooh' and does a little giggle to himself.

• It's cute but ruins a good story when you have to go into another full explanation of said story.

• He's also an 8/10 at least he'll laugh at memes even if he doesn't find them funny.

Wild

• Thinking about him losing his memories some of his schooling had also been lost since his resurrection.

• I believe Wild is the most adaptable of the Heroes. He had to be adaptable out in the wild in order to survive.

• So, he'd be the quickest - next to Wind - to catch Modern! Reader's slang.

• He would also interpret it into his own day to day talking. His Hyrule is more flexible in my opinion to different ways and languages than other Hyrules.

• Him along with Wind and Four are your main translators to the others. So, when someone is in doubt they run to Wild to ask about a certain word or abbreviation then run back to reader and continue the conversation.

• However, Wild does radiate chaotic energy and sometimes whenever the others try to learn, he'd casually tell them the complete opposite of what it means for shits and giggles. An example, "Wild, what does 'Yo - lo' mean?" "You only lick once." The person would thank him and run back to you, "Indeed only one lick." "What the -"

• This annoys the living daylights out of Twilight, Time, Warriors, First, Calamity - basically all the serious Links.

• Wild appreciates memes from Modern! Reader's world. In fact he sometimes tries to recreate them with readers guidance.

• Other times he would try and create an entirely new genre of meme little does he know he already is with some of his really cursed selfies on his Sheikah Slate.

• Overall 10/10 best boy cause he gets it and screws with people that don't.

Hyrule

• In my honest opinion I don't think this boy had any type of schooling. Most of the things he knows comes from pure experience. He might've been taught more about magic, curses and things more related to the fae since he was raised by them, but no school system like ours.

• Hyrule much like Twilight thought it was just an accent rather than the modern day and age talk when he first heard it.

• Someone had to sit him down though to tell him it's not.

• Hyrule learns from Wild about the terms and their meanings as Wild starts using them more frequently in his own speech. So, Hyrule starts picking up that habit as well and sooner or later you got two four in actuality people talking like anyone from your world!

• I believe he would purposefully go to Legend and start telling him some of the slang that he's learned through either you or some of the others. It's similar to a kid running up to their parent to show them a picture that they drew. Legend actually appreciates this and finds it cute but wouldn't admit it.

• He does surprisingly catch on to memes quick.

• His brain works in mysterious ways as well so he'd instantly understand Modern! Reader's references.

• He does go and have little back and forths with Wind when referencing memes that reader uses the most. It's turns into a challenge between Hyrule, Wild, Wind and Four of who is right with Modern! Reader as the referee.

• He genuinely believes its interesting to hear how different the people in Modern! Reader's world talk in comparison to any of their Hyrules.

• Overall he's an 8/10.

[princeash28]

Excerpt from my Gratsu Fanfic, in which Gray is depressy espressy and Natsu wants to help... in his own way 😅

The sounds of Gray’s window being broken into was surprisingly unalarming. Soon after, his bedroom door creaked open, and he knew without knowing who it was.

“Go ‘way,” Gray muttered into his pillow.

“So, you are alive,” Natsu chuckled, and opened the door fully, letting in light that made Gray groan. “Didn’t think Bickslow walloped ya that bad. Or ya just slackin’ off for no reason?”

Gray turned further away into the pillow stubbornly. “What part of ‘go away,’ did you think meant ‘come in?’”

Natsu went quiet and his footsteps retreated. Thank the gods. Gray didn’t want a conversation right now, much less with a pyro who snuck in whenever he saw fit.

“Got'ny grub?” Natsu called from the kitchen, and Gray grunted in annoyance.

Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Not for you,” Gray said shortly. “When are you going to stop breaking in?”

Natsu didn’t answer. The sounds of Gray’s pantry being pilfered lit his stomach up in annoyance, but he didn’t have the energy to move. Didn’t have the energy to do anything since the Battle of Fairy Tail a few days ago.

A heaviness was pressing on him like a weighted blanket, pawing at him to just stay in bed, to just not think about—

Burning villages and dying masters and his best friend stopping him from sacrificing himself twice. Running away from the imploding Tower of Heaven while Erza and Natsu were still inside. Getting his ass handed to him by Bickslow and letting his family down when they needed him. Natsu knowing how weak he really was.

—that.

Natsu padded back into Gray’s room with something crinkling, and Gray finally lifted his head with a scolding already on his tongue for whatever he’d stolen—but it tripped over his slack jaw and wide eyes. Natsu’s bandages were mostly gone.

Gray had never seen Natsu with burns before.

‘From the lightning,’ Gray realized.

They flowered over his skin, almost like frost on a window blooming and leaving red, angry roots. They were almost pretty in their intricacy, winding up on both arms like vines, up the right side of his neck, wrapping around his ear and holding his bruised eye hostage—the one that had been bandaged the last time Gray had seen him. His right arm wasn’t in a cast anymore, replaced by a more flexible brace that he recognized from Porlyusica’s supplies.

But there were no more blue veins under his skin; no more alien flecks of sapphire in his green eyes. It seemed Laxus had shocked the last of the ethernano out of Natsu’s system.

Then Gray’s eyes landed on the source of the crinkling sound, and he blinked in confusion at a bag of jerky he didn’t even know he had had.

“…Where did you find that?”

“Under the couch.”

Gray deadpanned. “’Course ya did.”

He held out a stiff piece of jerky that smelled awful. “Want some?”

“What I want is some peace and quiet.”

Natsu clicked his tongue and popped a piece of jerky into his mouth. “Fresh outta that. Want anything else?”

Gray cocked an eyebrow. “…What?”

He rolled his eyes. “To eat,” Natsu elaborated around a mouthful of dried meat probably left from the previous tenants of Gray’s apartment. “Have ya had anything today?”

Gray stared, and the frozen flutters within him began to thaw.

‘He doesn’t mean anything by it,’ Gray told himself sourly. ‘Why would he?’

Gray’s warring emotions created a glare on his face. “Why do you suddenly care about my diet, fire breath?”

Natsu chewed with an unimpressed look. “Answer the question first.”

“…No, I haven’t.”

“That’s why,” Natsu said, and then went back to eating his jerky. “You got a lotta weird food in there. Bet I could make somethin’ with it.”

Gray was starting to feel like he was having an aneurysm, so he finally sat all the way up. He tried to ignore how dizzy it made him. “I—what? You want to cook…? You?”

Natsu glared in offense. “Why not?”

“Because the last time Lis—” He caught himself at the last moment. “The last time someone tried to teach you to cook, you almost burned the whole guild down.”

“That’s because you came in there and picked a fight with me!”

“I was trying to put out the fire you caused!”

“Yeah, right! You were just jealous of my skills!”

Gray scoffed. “Skills? You would burn water.”

“Oh, yeah?!” Natsu barked, and jabbed a finger in his face, “You just watch, Ice Prick! I’m gonna make the best damn slop, and you’re gonna eat it!”

He marched out of Gray’s room with the jerky. Then, he poked his head back in.

“And joke’s on you, dumbass, ‘cause you can’t set water on fire!”

“Let me guess, you’ve tr—”

“’Cause I’ve tried!”

Read the rest of "Don't You Dare (Make Me Fall in Love with You)" on AO3

[cherr-22]

TNGDH 25

“Cashew. I’m really leaving now. I’ll only be visiting the horse stables, so it won’t take too long.”

Kyle spoke dejectedly with me sitting on his palms.

―Squeak (Hurry and go.)

“Sorry for leaving you so often. Even though I should be taking care of you more before we start infusing mana into you.”

―Squeak squeak. (I’m telling you to go away.)

The first time he said he would be leaving was 10 minutes ago.

I pushed against his face with my front paws and turned my head away from him, but he failed to read the meaning behind my actions. Instead, I was kissed five more times before being let go.

‘It’s finally over.’

I’m completely beat. You damned hamster otaku.

Kyle let me down into my home and then left the study.

As I reorganized my messy fur, I turned towards the door to confirm that Kyle left and used ‘Summon’.

‘System! You know the drill. To that room.’

[o(*￣▽￣*)ブ]

My vision went white and instantly changed. It was the new room I received from Kyle the day before yesterday.

I wore my newly bought clothes and surveyed the room. A large window, a cozy fireplace, a soft bed, and a wooden wardrobe and a desk. There was even a warm rug on the floor.

It was so clean that it was almost unbelievable that the room had never been used before.

“He paid a lot of attention to it.”

I chuckled and closed the closet.

All the clothes I bought before were hung inside. Things like a small lamp, paper, and a pen were on the desk even though I never bought them. Same with the pillow and blanket on the bed. Oh, there are even slippers.

I opened the thick curtains to take a glance outside and laid down on the bed. Staring at the ceiling reminded me of the first rental house I signed.

It was a home I obtained from doing part-time jobs from early morning to late night. It was small and cramped, but I was proud of earning it myself. It was particularly difficult period of time back then since my uncle refused to help me at all.

That was why from the time I was Bae Soohyun until now, this was the first time someone actively supported me like this. I have been always alone since I was little, so it was natural to feel that I had to endure everything alone.

“……Is that why I’m having a strange feeling.”

Providing me money and a place to call home out of kindness, Kyle gave me an unfamiliar feeling. It felt as if it were obvious to request them at the time, but actually holding them in my hands felt strange.

“I will make sure to save you.”

I muttered to myself and turned around. Then I saw a table next to the bed…… huh? Wait.

“This is…….”

I bolted off the bed and clenched the bracelet on the table. It looked just like the <Shocking news! Beneficial mana energy is flowing out!> bracelet from before.

“No wonder he was talking nonsense about how I’m short and how weak I looked!”

I pounded my chest in distress and shoved the bracelet into my pocket. 

I should go refund it right away. No matter how rich a person may be, he shouldn’t be ripped off of a scam. This wasn’t cheap either.

“You Grand Duke bastard!”

I opened the door and left the room. You said you were going to the horse stable? Wait just right there. I will come straight to you to make you refund it.

*

As if it were never warm before, the weather turned chilly. However, the anger within me was stronger than the bitter Northern winds.

I took long strides towards the stables. Kyle was there as expected. In his hands were a handful of sugar cubes to feed to the horses.

First, I took a deep breath and neatly straightened my clothes. Pretend we are meeting in a coincidence. Pretend it’s a coincidence. Act as if I never knew he would be here.

“……Cough, cough. So you are here.”

I cleared my throat and walked closer to Kyle. He turned his head upon hearing me.

“It sure is hard to see you around.”

“Yes, well……. I’m just rather busy.”

“You didn’t stay in your room either. Is it not to your liking?”

“Oh, no no. Of course not. ……but!”

It was supposed to be a short conversation, but it was difficult to hold back after he mentioned the room. I pulled the bracelet out of my pocket and shook it in front of his face.

“What is this! You really bought this from the market? Even though it was obviously a scam!?”

“Scam?”

“Some mana good for your body emitting out or whatever, do you think that’s really true? Even if it were, there’s no way they would sell it like that at a marketplace like that!”

“I didn’t buy that at the market.”

“What?”

Kyle chuckled as he held one of my wrist, took the bracelet from me, and unclasped it.

“I requested a magician yesterday to make one. It doesn’t emit any mana, but wearing it may bring you luck.”

“…….”

Saying that, Kyle put the bracelet on my wrist.

The bracelet, accented with blue gems on a silver chain, was light and beautiful. So beautiful that my wrist didn’t seem worthy of it.

And here I was about to rip it apart thinking it was just a germanium bracelet…….

“But is it alright to give me such a precious item?”

“I felt bad that you got hurt at the banquet when the chandelier fell, yet I couldn’t do anything for you. It may be late, but I hope you’d take this as an expression of apology and gratitude. Please accept it.”

He said with his eyes still on my wrist. A lucky bracelet you say? Are you saying you hope I won’t get caught up in another incident like that?

“Even though you already gave me a room.”

“That’s because you looked after Cashew for me.”

“……Anyways, this looks rather expensive. Since you gifted it to me, I won’t give it back even if you ask for it.”

This kind of situation felt unfamiliar, so I avoided his eyes nervously.

“By the way, why are you at the stables? It’s not like you need to maintain it yourself.”

“Because it seems that you’d need one for yourself.”

Kyle put down the sugar cubes and patted the brown mare. The horse nuzzled its face into his hand and neighed happily.

“Um, I don’t know how to ride one.”

“You can learn.”

“Who would teach me?”

Kyle looked at me as if it were the most obvious answer.

“Me.”

“……Are you not busy?”

“I have about an hour.”

He opened the door of the stall the brown mare was in.

I took a step back in hesitation. I’ve only seen them at the zoo when I was young and it was my first time seeing one up so close.

He saddled the horse and took the reins as if it were familiar to him.

“Come up.”

“Oh my back is still hurting a bit so…….”

“We’ll move slowly so don’t worry.”

After staring at the horse for a while, I gave in. I stepped my left foot into the stirrup and climbed onto the horse. It was a small horse, so it didn’t feel as scary as I thought it would be.

I held on tightly to the handle of the saddle and Kyle started moving forward slowly. The horse followed his lead and headed out of the stable.

‘……This feels weird.’

The ground was hard, but it felt as if it were oscillating like waves in the ocean.

“Why do you treat me so well? Is there a particular reason? Something like I resemble someone or something.”

I mumbled absentmindedly while looking up at the clear, blue sky. Kyle didn’t respond so I continued.

“On the surface, His Highness the Grand Duke may be wealthy and be called the king of the North, but I cannot take everything you give me for granted. I know that nothing in this world is free and that there would always be some sort of purpose behind your favors.

I am old enough to know better that there was no kindness without compensation.

There was something to obtain, which was why you were taking care of the other. Part of the strange feeling I felt in the room before could’ve been due to this fact. Just what exactly do you want from me?

Kyle seemed to ponder for a moment before opening his mouth.

“I suppose you wouldn’t believe me if I said I had no motives behind my actions.”

“…….”

“You looked lonely, that’s all.”

I opened my mouth, only to close it without saying anything.

‘……looked lonely.’

I frowned unconsciously and clasped the handle harder.

“I wasn’t even fifteen years old when I wandered around the North alone, not having anyone to trust. Trust could become a weakness and favors could turn into traps. For that reason, I tried to do everything on my own. But the winters of the North were harsh, and it was difficult to even stay alive. In the end, I realized I needed help from someone else.”

He sounded calm as he recollected his past. He pulled on the reigns to stop the horse and raised his head towards me.

“No human can live alone, no matter how tough and strong they may be. In fact, even dragon hatchlings are heavily guarded by their pack when they are young. And when they grow to a full-fledged adult, they often blend into the human society to overcome their loneliness. Which is why I embrace those who need help, and receive help myself when I need them. I am only doing the same to you.”

It was a very idealistic statement. Even though the world could never always go so smoothly, he spoke with confidence in his voice.

What if the person who received your help betrayed you? What if you die because of that betrayal? Would you still think the same way then?

My mouth felt bitter, especially knowing to whose hands Kyle died in the original story.

I spoke out after pressing down the heavy feeling in my chest.

“Then, please don’t die.”

I spoke a bit too bluntly, making Kyle laugh as he lowered me down from the horse.

“Alright. I promise you.”

[A new imprint was made on Kyle Jane Meinhardt’s life.]

[Hidden quest, ‘Collective Destiny’ achieved!]

[Miracle Value has increased.]

[Current Miracle Value 26.0%]

I looked past the blue system window to Kyle.

I hope you continue to live. Regardless of whether or not our fates are tied together, you are someone who deserves it.

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

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