#and perhaps it is something The Player should learn. and is starting to learn.

[akard-kiwi-ao3]

More Blocktales Shedletsky Ideas

The realizations I had with BT Shedletsky's self-worth is making me hyperfixate on him. I self-indulge my blorbos in a way where i put them in the fucking wringer and have them survive like a roach, irreparably changed and perhaps damaged, but still force themself to live because of their purpose.

But the funniest part about this? If you re-read the post and read between the lines, notice his actual reason, the turning point where he turned his own self-hatred into a fucking weapon.

I'll give you a hint. Hatred can't be a purpose and a weapon at the same time. Especially here. It is merely a tool for Shedletsky's actual drive, his actual purpose that was given by no one but himself.

It's something that Shedletsky himself may not even realize, but should have admitted by now.

[softsunnyy]

unhealthy obsession, he enters your bedroom, you feel like you're going crazy (pretty close), masturbation, obsessive and dirty thoughts. This is pure obsessive without much sense, but i like to think about how a simple crush can lead two people to desire each other in this way 🚨🚨 kinda pt.2?

i keep thinking about Quinn, about his obsession with you, which is completely mutual. And i think about the looks, the thoughts, how both of them want to be patient, but i feel like it won't take long, because even though Quinn is normally a patient man, when it comes to you, his world crumbles, and he begins to become irrational, impulsive, and destructive. The desire to possess you is a thousand times stronger than his conscience demanding control.

he easily figures out how to break into your bedroom, which is alarming, but he'll behave himself; he only does it to learn more about you, to know how to approach you properly.

he's also memorized your schedule, so don't be surprised by the number of hours he spends in your room, reading your books, learning your tastes, leaving his scent in every part of the place, so that when you arrive, you feel like you're going crazy, as it has been doing for the past few weeks.

and so it is, your mind becoming more and more dangerous; more and more lost. You feel your pillow smell like him, and you use it to rub your soaked pussy, getting even as if that will erase his face from your mind. You see your books moved, and when you look through them you see that the most intense pages are marked clumsily, as if someone wanted to give you a message.

and today? today you saw him in a game, and for a moment, when his eyes fell on you just after he scored a goal, you felt that maybe you weren't completely crazy. Although perhaps that should have been the sign that you were about to lose your mind, letting yourself be hunted by him.

you began to question if he had something to do with it, if he knows.

oh god, he definitely knows.

for some reason, it doesn't alarm you, it doesn't embarrass you, but rather it makes you feel excited. The idea of ​​being chased, of him obsessing over you as much as you are over him drives you crazy, and you want it to be true. You want him to know that you know his secret, so you deliberately start putting on a show for him, and you leave those panties you wore that day on your bed, still stained, smelling of your arousal caused by him and his eyes, his hands, his presence.

so when Quinn comes back in he's clearly shocked, and his brain is melting thinking about the possibilities.

this has to be on purpose, right? this has to be, because you've surely realized it already, because you surely want him to do something about it.

and even if it was hasty, even if it was impulsive and idiotic, he knows you want him, and he knows you're smart, that you must be putting the pieces together and trying not to go really crazy, convincing yourself that he's really entering your safe place. So he decides to act, lying down on your bed like all the other times, but stripping off his pants and underwear, freeing his cock, which was slowly waking up to what he was about to do.

his little whore, his sweet and pretty girl, this was intentional, he knows it. He's learned to read you, to know what you like, how you think.

he wrapped your panties around his cock and began to masturbate while remembering how beautiful you looked at the game, watching him, cheering for him and only him. His hand moves faster when he remembers your excited face when he looked at you, when he gave you hope, and he groans, blinded by pleasure, when he remembers that today you were a little braver, and you wore that jersey they gave to fans with each player's number on it.

you were obviously wearing his, and just thinking about it makes him feel like he might come, so he moves his hand hard, squeezing, trying to imagine how good it must feel to push inside you, forcing his way between your walls, which must surely be tight, waiting for him, but soaked enough to make it easy to slide in.

he can imagine your moans, the way the drool stains your chin and your eyes roll white, taking his entire cock and begging him to be gentler, to go slower, so that in the end he'll do the exact opposite, torturing you, melting your brain, killing any coherent thought, making you only want him.

he doesn't even realize the moment he cums, staining your panties with his fluids. He keeps going, overstimulating himself, making his body tremble as he keeps thinking about you, about everything he can do to you, all the ways he can have you.

he doesn't even stop to think that his plan was ruined, that he skipped steps he can't erase now, because with this, you'll know everything, and closeness will be inevitable.

it's when he cums a second time that he reacts, and with some panic, he leaves the scene, leaving your stained and soaked panties on your pillow. The damage is done.

however, when you return to your room and find the scene, you smile, thinking about the camera you just bought, and the plan you want to carry out. You can play too, and you will. But now you must take care of your needs, so you take your panties, disgustingly licking the remnants of his cum, tasting it. And you can't even be mad at him for ruining your panties, because doing so only gave you the green light to start what you wanted so badly.

so the next time he went to your room, he found another gift. This time it was a memory card from a camera lying next to it. When he inserted it, he found a marvel. It was a video of you, touching yourself, moaning for him, and showing him how your fingers thrust in and out of your hole, moving faster and faster as your face twists in an expression of pure pleasure.

he starts touching himself through his clothes, but everything in his mind shuts down when he hears it. You moaned his name at the very moment you came, glancing briefly at the camera, giving him the full show.

oh, what did you do?

now he'll have to wait for you, sitting on your bed, holding back the urge to touch himself, but replaying the video, driving himself crazy, wishing you'd walk through that door so he could destroy you and stop playing games.

his little hunt is about to end, but he's not mad about it.

you, on the other hand, need to prepare yourself, because he won't have mercy on you, not after that.

[zzencat]

Why Do I Still Feel Unsatisfied? - Timeless Reading (for anyone)

When things are content and slow, going normally as one would expect, you still feel like there’s something not quite right—something missing. Now what? Are you supposed to be happy? You have everything you need…what is there to complain about? Why is life so stale? So boring? Am I doing enough in my life? What is this stagnant energy?

Note: Social media may have an influence on these feelings.

- Remember: clear your mind. Close your eyes, take a deep breath, fill up your chest to the fullest, feel the air brush against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out. Choose the photo that you can’t take your eyes off of.

——————

Pile 1. To Speed Up or To Slow Down.

You might be in denial. You try to think that you’re okay and you’re doing well enough—you have everything you need to survive, so what’s the matter with you? What’s the hold up? Are you going out on the weekends to the same places? Maybe repeating the same old routine, with or without friends? Perhaps you’re staying home and indulging in the same habits every weekend. Why are you just lounging around in the kitchen or living room with an oversized shirt and running your hands through your hair, wondering what to do now that you have time? It’s getting boring and you need some spice to your life.

Try looking into a hobby that you had interest in during childhood. Maybe you were shunned for having a such an interest. Do you do a lot of online shopping? Have you ever wanted to start your own business or clothing line? Honestly, to me it feels like you’re financially stable or on your way there and you know you will be. But it feels passionless. Maybe you had passion in the beginning and it died out. The excitement wasn’t there anymore, or maybe you had to be in this profession because you had to. To impress parents, guardians, the people around you. I feel like this group could do well with a side hustle or multiple. You seem like well-adaptable people so you could deal with the uncertainty and unpredictability. You also seem very friendly, like a team player type of person. You do what your told, and have small moments where you count as “rebellious.” Perfectionistic. My mind keeps going back to this…maybe you want to open up your own online shop? Or clothing/beauty brand or business? You might struggle when things get too quiet at a hangout with your friends or other people, maybe feeling pressured to say something or lighten the mood. For some reason, it’s always your responsibility to do something. Who put that on you? Where did you learn that from? That you should take charge and try to do something or else it’s your fault? Why do you feel inclined to do that? These would be good questions to think about.

The Challenge For You: Pick up a hobby and perfect it. It helps to record yourself working on this hobby, mistakes and all, and post it somewhere where people can see. Closest friends, family, or complete strangers. The reaction will make your more relatable and you’ll gain a lot of support. I’m seeing a soft smile and a genuine pat (“you’re doing good! you got this!” vibe) from your friends or people online. For example, “Day 1 of playing the violin” or “Day 30 of frisbee throwing”. This group seems to be heavily reliant on validation, internal or external. You need people to be there to see when you’re doing well, and people shouldn’t see your mistakes and if they do, you’ll try to move on while beating yourself up in your head. Very perfectionistic and while this helps you in your career or professional life, you should allow yourself to make mistakes, laugh about it, and be more soft towards yourself. Perhaps you got shamed for making a bunch of mistakes when you were younger, taught that mistakes aren’t okay and that you should be perfect, but all the energy here—from my spirit team to yours—is telling you that it’s okay to not get it the first time. Humans are meant to adapt and grow. There’s no fun in getting something the first time around. It’d be beginner’s luck. It’s about the journey and what you put into it that will add tremendously to your charm. It makes you human and it makes you, you. So learn to forgive yourself and build up that confidence.

Points of Interest: xxfj vibes, but mainly isfj/infj, nurse, libra, middle person/mediator, trying to get out there more, lowkey don’t want to socialize all the time but is forced to (whatever this may mean to you, take it), needing validation from others bc your own doesn’t count, suppression, “busy is good”, inner loneliness, void in heart, helping others but not yourself, “was it always this quiet or was i just used to the noise?”, slow down, hustle culture, “this is what I should be doing” (very vague, could mean different things…but this definitely applies to people in this pile), people pleaser…messy hair, in a rush, busy, busy, busy…“Damn it- why isn’t this thing working?!”, coffee, too much coffee, “dude, are you okay?”, stress, “living life in the fast lane as they say…” (for some reason, maria by justin bieber came up- we got any beliebers in here?), social media, parents, boss, workplace, Jane(?), idk why the black mirror episode called “joan is awful”, “I’ll take what I can get”, don’t want to burden other people, fear of humiliation, standards on other people are not as high as the standard you put on yourself, anxious, always moving, check, check, check…restless energy, “it’s on me”, responsibility…

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Pile 2. “I guess…” is not an answer.

This pile floats between pile 1 and 3 but leaning towards 1. The people in this group could share many of the same doubts and feelings as pile 1. But I will say, if you felt drawn to all or any of the other two alongside this one, I suggest you reading those as well. This gives me very infp vibes. Shy but likes to/would like to dress up a bit more, follow the fashion culture, find your own style. There’s a bit of a childlike nature to this group and I’m not sure what it is. Like maybe a financial insecurity or you want to date someone really badly. Like a person who watches a bunch of kdrama’s but never goes outside OR you do go outside and you don’t have the balls to ask someone out. I’m getting couch potato but a cute one. Curled up in a blanket and binge watching in bed. Watching other people chase their dreams and goals while you’re still wondering what yours are. Do you binge-watch a lot of shows or movies? I feel confused reading this pile, as if I’m supposed to be looking for something but I’m either not mature enough or I just don’t know what to look for. Probably struggles with parasocial-ness. Very online, maybe chronically online, if I might add. Maybe you’ve never gone out on a date before. If you did, you’d be super awkward, say something dumb on accident, giggle too much, or just full on shy, laughing a lot, red faced. Do you struggle with a lot of anxiety? A lot of daydreaming or fantasizing. If your friends ask you to go out with them, you either say yes immediately or you make up an excuse of why you can’t go just to lounge at home. But I feel frustrated. I don’t know where to look. Maybe you prefer to rock out with your headphones, blast music, and have a dance party in your room by yourself. Timid. Can be sassy at times. Probably dramatic. Do you still live with your parents, by any chance? I’m getting middle class to lower upper class, maybe even upper (but a lot less so.) Kind of spoiled energy. Maybe people have done things for you your whole life or have chosen the path for you to be on already. Maybe they’ve made decisions for you your whole life.

The Challenge For You: Go outside more and be more observant of people, especially if you think you struggle with social ineptness. If you’re timid, maybe your voice is too quiet that it draws people’s attention or you’re so anxious that you do something loud or reckless that captures attention. Do you have an interest in something that you could capitalize on? Like something in the arts? Maybe you can sell art online, draw for people, get yourself out there without engaging in fights online—it’s not worth your time, I promise. Put your phone down and read a book. Find something you like outside your phone or on any of your devices. This group seems constantly overstimulated with devices that you can never just sit and stare at the wall for a minute. It would help for you to think about the future for a little bit, even if it overwhelms you. If you’re in high school, get a part time job or do research on something you like. Practice gratitude and acknowledge the things that you have that others don’t. There’s a lot of immaturity, emotionally as well, in this pile, like you haven’t figured yourself out yet and you’re just waiting for things to fall into place. If I had to sum this up, it would be to pursue something that you can’t let go of and don’t let other people decide for you. Be more assertive and work on leadership skills. Work on time management as well. Laziness could also be an issue. Find yourself.

Points of Interest: infp vibes, dreamy, pursed lips, fidgeting, immaturity, “maybe if I dress normal, I’ll look normal”, dresses in all black, oversized shirts, beanies(?), don’t bring attention to me, small handwriting or circular letters, pink lead pencil, makes hearts on your “i’s”, secret romantic, easily jumps to conclusions, expectations, “daddy bought it for me”, be more thankful, ambition where?, do something you love and make a job out of it, oversleeping, “i don’t wanna think about it”, impulsivity, anxiousness, effort, purpose, going with the flow…

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Pile 3. “Let’s get this over with.”

Feeling very much a laaaarge lack of energy here. Very drained pile—emotionally, physically, mentally, some or all. Sometimes you feel it’s tiring to keep smiling, like you have to force it to seem okay. You’re in need for some warmth in your life, maybe some hugs or people telling you they’ll be there for you (and mean it), but you may or may not express this need to people; I’m mostly feeling that you keep to yourself a lot, not wanting to burden people. Very introverted energy, like “I’m just here” energy. If you go out, you don’t talk a lot or you need a drink/substance to help you loosen up and talk/act. Are you always tired? Staying up late and staring at a screen, or struggling with insomnia? Or it’s the opposite and you sleep too much—the whole day. Lethargic energy. There’s not much to say about this pile because I think you already know what to do, you just struggle. This could be a health issue or concern that you’re not taking seriously. Are you taking vitamins? I’m getting a zombie or very sedated state. Skin losing color and dark eye bags or under eye circles. Could struggle with depression. You don’t want to be forgotten but you want to be alone. You’re okay with solitude. Maybe you struggle with motivation in general, or motivation to take care of yourself, again, health is coming up—other people could be concerned about you and they tell you or they don’t. I would take a closer look regarding your friend group and maybe reconsider who you’re letting in your world. They could be impacting you for worse. You could be good at photography or have an interest in it. Half-assing most projects or assignments. You probably answer texts late, never answer, or give really short responses. I’m getting the sense that you really just want to exist without judgment or being perceived. Like living like a ghost and move through life seamlessly. You could have a knack for pc games or computer science. Either way, take a shower. You might feel cold often or experience coldness easier than your friends.

The Challenge For You: Join clubs where you know no one. Go alone and make it a secret space for yourself and go for at least 8 months. You’ll find that it can be therapeutic. Yoga classes with old ass ladies can help since they’re just focused on stretching. Find some friends that are ambitious but unmovable, like good leaders. They could influence you to take better care of yourself. Next, find friends that actually care about you and your health, not the “do whatever you want; it’s your life” type of friends. You should visit a sauna some time or go on vacation to a warm-hot country. You could even move there and you would be even slightly happier than now. I would encourage you to seek therapy—with a GOOD therapist. Either you haven’t had the interest or time or you haven’t had a good experience with therapy at all—do not give up. Maybe a counselor at school works. If not, move onto the next option. Confide in better friends, friends that can physically help you get up and move out of your slump, not ones that encourage/enable the bad habits. It’s time to turn your life around pile 3—I seriously think that I don’t need to be telling you these things cuz you already know. You’re definitely not dumb- you just lack motivation. Talk to someone about it or find friends that force you to change your life for the better, the ones that drag you out to go to the park with them. Get out of your comfort zone and start moving. Get that blood moving around your body—someone needs to force you to run, but after a shake rich in protein.

Points of Interest: headphones (maybe AirPod max), cozying up in the corner where people can’t see you, smoking, grey skies, crows, photography, good camera, still camera, cold hands, bitten nails, blue fingers, shrugs, poor blood circulation, pale skin, eating issues (eating too little or too much), needing dopamine and finding easy ways to get it, “i don’t care”, still lack of motivation, sunshine, grumpiness, unchanged sheets, old white tank top (for some reason), your room could use some cleaning, exercise…

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That is all!! I hope you have enjoyed. Feedback is heavily appreciated and I would love to see what pile you chose in your reblogs! As a new reader, I’d like to get as accurate as possible when it comes to picking up energy and doing these readings for you. Remember to take what resonates, leave what doesn’t! Let me know what was accurate for you :) Thank you for coming to my Teddytalk today. (sorry it’s a lame joke ik jsfkdjs)

[iheartmapi]

Mapi angst? Pls🥹

Answer: This is my first time writing angst but I hope you’ll like it 😭

What I dreaded the most

Summary: You’re Barça’s youngest player, which makes your teammates call you the “kid” of the team. The team is supposed to play a match but you’re nowhere to be seen, which causes Mapi to be anxious and worried. She later learns that there was a good reason for your absence.

TW: mention of a dislocated shoulder, car crash, hospital, brief mentions of pain and wounds

Angst with happy ending.

Word count: 2,261

Y/n Y/l/n was Barça’s youngest player, her teammates were quick to jump in on calling her the team’s “kid”, upon her first time hearing her being called that she couldn’t help but feel as if it was meant to be a subtle punch in the gut, like “kid” was something derogatory, perhaps it was a bit childish but slowly over time she started feeling warm whenever one of the girls called her that, even if it was a simple “hey kid” or maybe even “kiddo”, there were many variants, but all became a familiar and nice nickname.

Out of the entire time you’ve grown the closest to Mapi, the girl’s eccentric and often times unpredictable personality absolutely charmed you, the two of you enjoyed joking with each other, frequently talking with each other during breaks at training

Today, was the day of a match for Barça, Mapi was in the locker room, sitting down on a bench whilst talking with Ingrid and Aitana. There were only a few minutes left before they’d have to go out, yet you haven’t arrived yet, this weirded out Mapi as well as Ingrid and Aitana when they brought it up, you weren’t one to be late to anything (Mapi liked that trait of yours) so what the hell happened? Mapi couldn’t help but shift anxiously in her seat, her mind thinking of the worst outcomes; something must’ve happened to you, or perhaps someone? You were her close friend, she always had this natural worry in the back of her mind when it came to you, maybe because you were so young…She looked around the locker room, hoping that you’d finally appear somewhere and explain that something came up or something. “Did she tell you guys anything?” Mapi looked up at her teammates, concern written all over her face, “Nah, listen Mapi…you have to calm down” Ingrid assured her, patting her shoulder “You should listen to Ingrid, Maps, I mean maybe Y/n caught something? You know how it is” Aitana agreed with Ingrid, Mapi appreciated that they were trying to get her to calm down but nonetheless it didn’t help her, she sighed and lowered her head. “We can always try and call her” Aitana proposed and immediately retrieved her phone, Ingrid nodded and did the same.

And so the girls started calling Y/n’s number, but to no avail, it seemed like her phone was either turned off or hadn’t been charged, this only made Mapi‘s panic worse, other teammates tried to call her as well but no one got an answer.

“Something must’ve happened, she’d never pull something like this” Mapi frowned “I have to talk to the coach” she added and stood up from the bench she was sitting on, Aitana and Ingrid wanted to tell her to give it up since she was completely off contact, so what could the coach do? But they let her go anyway, Mapi marched to find the coach, and when she did she didn’t save any of her concerns from the coach, she needed to search for you since this was incredibly weird, but in the end all she got was a “We can’t do anything about it María, you have to focus the match is about to start, Y/n will probably come over in some time anyway”.

Mapi came back to the locker room with her head held low, Aitana and Ingrid were still on their phones trying to call you up, as well as Keira, Patricia and even Alexia…it was clear they were feeling irritated at this whole situation, some more than the others. They had to break it to Mapi that they couldn’t just keep on trying to call you for hours on end since they had a match to play, Mapi was feeling terrible at this point, but they were right, even if she wanted to she couldn’t just run out of the stadium to go looking for you right now.

She sat back down on her bench, taking a sip of water to try and do anything that could calm her down even a minimal precent, Alexia came up to Mapi, sitting down next to her on the bench, “You shouldn’t be worrying so much, I’m sure Y/n’s fine, wherever she is…” the blonde tried to comfort her teammate, Mapi looked over at her friend smiling slightly “Yeah I guess you’re right Alexia…we’ve gotta focus on the game” Mapi’s smile falterd after she said that, she could feel it’d be hard for her to concentrate on anything else other than you right now, she wished she could listen to all the things her teammates were saying to her, but they couldn’t help her at all.

There was no more asking or calling now, they had to go out and play at this moment. As Mapi stood there on the green pitch she felt as if she was doing this for the first time, like she was a stranger among her teammates, it was as if her own feet were misleading her, she could see Ingrid, Aitana, Alexia and the rest looking at her with confused looks, as she was barely managing with her defense. Mapi’s concern for you overtook all her senses, and in result as the first half neared its end, it was no shock that Mapi was taken off the field for someone else to replace her.

Weirdly shaken up and distressed she made her way back to the locker room. She sighed, she sat back down on that same bench she was sitting earlier in a much calmer state than now, Mapi held her phone in her hands, she still had a hope that as her screen light up she would see a notification from you, wherever it was a message, call or anything else. She blinked and there it was, as if what she was hoping for came true, there it was, clear in a simple black coloured font

Y/n:

It’s bad Mapi

Attached to your message was your localisation, Mapi’s eyes widened, in that moment she knew that she had to drop everything to see where in God’s name you were all this time, her levels of worry were going through multiple roofs, she grabbed her bag and sprinted out of the stadium, she had to go to that localisation at this exact moment.

The setting was only a little bit off from the city, the countless buildings were clearly seen in the distance, she neared the localisation that you sent her, it wasn’t hard to miss the absolute train wreck of what seemed to be a car crash ahead of her, Mapi pulled up, close to the scene. She got out of her car, running towards the collision, red and blue lights flashed, two cars were crashed against each other, it looked like one of them quite literally rammed into the other one, there was an ambulance, where he could see a couple of paramedics rushing here and there, and finally there was a cop car, one cop was speaking with a civilian who was leaning against the ambulance, they had some bandages on them, but it seemed like they were the less hurt party in all of this.

Even if it sounded bad taken out of context Mapi couldn’t care less about them or anything else than finding you right now, she ran up to one of the paramedics, asking all about you, if they knew anything, “There’s a woman inside the ambulance-“ the paramedic told her, Mapi didn’t even want to listen to them finishing their sentence, she hurried to look inside the ambulance. Surely there was a woman inside…but it wasn’t you. It wasn’t possible for you not to be here, where the hell were you?! Her hands were shaking, were you dead? You couldn’t be, she walked further…then she felt as if a massive rock was taken off her heart, she was you sitting on the roadside, your head in your hands, you were patched up, some bandages on your legs, but what made Mapi feel at ease was the fact that you seemed to be doing alright, she ran up to you, gripping your shoulders with her hands, you looked up at her clearly startled but your gaze softens slightly as you realized it was Mapi.

Mapi looked you up, searching for any wounds, cuts or anything of that kind, she was glad to see that you were still pretty much in tact. “Jesus Christ Y/n! I- I was so goddamn scared!” She exclaimed barely catching her breath, “What happened..please I’m begging you tell me!” Tears started rolling down your cheeks, covering the dried tracks of the small droplets from before you saw Mapi, “I’m..I’m not sure Mapi It- It was all so sudden” your voice broke as you tried to come up with anything that had sense to tell her. Mapi cradled your face in her hands, her thumbs wiping away the salty tears “Alright- Alright- listen please just tell me if everything’s alright Y/n, I was so scared…I knew something went wrong I just wasn’t…expecting all of this, please tell me you’re fine!” You sniffed, quickly nodding your head in a “yes” motion. “Dios mío…” Mapi muttered to herself

“Y/n I’m glad, seriously I’m glad, I don’t know what the hell I’d do if something was wrong..” Mapi revealed, a single tear running down her cheek, “Come here you big dummy…” she sniffed as she finally smiled, Mapi’s arms lowered slightly resting lower back on your back, she pulled you against her, wanting to hold you tight as if to ensure that some imaginary hurricane wouldn’t just come and snatch you away, she was tired from worrying the entire day.

The second she pulled you against her you suddenly felt a piercing pain go through your body like an arrow. You winced loudly in pain, Mapi’s heart started beating abnormally again, she looked at you, her eyes wide like cherry pies. “Y/n? Y/n?! What was that? What happened?” She started blabbering any word that came to mind as she tried searching for any way to do something, you started sobbing, tears falling like rain, staining your shirt that was already slightly dirty from the car crash.

The first logical step was to take you to the goddamn hospital, Mapi had to pick you up, lead you there- do anything to get you there without accidentally hurting you more. “Where does it hurt? I have to take you to my car, we HAVE to go to the hospital Y/n” Mapi asked, you managed to choke out a “My shoulder…” through tears, Mapi wrapped her arm around your waist, making sure your “safe” side could lean on her. “It’ll be alright, ok? I promise you Y/n, everything is going to be fine, you’ll be fine” with that she helped you somehow make your way to her car, Mapi supported you with each step the two of you took, finally the two of you got into her car, she wasted no time in immediately speeding off towards the closest hospital, the only thought keeping her going was getting you help. As Mapi was driving with you wincing and still crying from the pain next to her on the passengers seat she suddenly heard her phone buzzing, she guessed it must’ve been someone from Barça, the coach, Alexia maybe someone else…but there were too many things going on right now for her to be able to pick it up, she’d call later.

The white walls and typical sterile scent wasn’t comforting at all, Mapi was sitting in a chair outside of your hospital room…you had to get a scan right now, the doctors concluded that a dislocated joint could’ve been the cause of your sudden pain, then Mapi remembered she was supposed to check who was calling her earlier…she took out the sleek device from her pocket and checked missed calls, surely it was one of her teammates; Keira, Mapi pressed the contact to call her back, Keira answered quite quickly .

“Maps! What’s going on? We’re all worried over here!” She heard Keira’s voice on the other end, Mapi took a deep breath before beginning to tell her what just happened.

“Yeah…they said it’s possibly a joint, the doctor assured me that she should be fine though” Mapi said with a hint of disdain for the possibility that her friend’s state could be worse, Keira sighed. “We have to trust them Mapi…alright I don’t want to keep you up so long, we’ll talk later, yeah?” Mapi answered simply “Yeah…later” before hanging up. Just then she saw you being escorted back into the room, Mapi’s heart dropped, she hated seeing you like this, hurt and helpless, “Can I come in? That’s my friend” She asked on of the nurses, the woman nodded, and so she waited as the nurses put you back onto your bed and left the room.

“Did they tell you anything, Y/n?” Mapi immediately asked as she pulled up a stool for herself to sit on, you nooded, “Yep…” you turned your head to look at Mapi “Dislocated shoulder, I should be fine though, already got all the necessary things scheduled…I definitely feel better tho- thanks to you Mapi” you added and smiled weakly, Mapi laughed gently, she carefully tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I was so worried, everyone thought I was going to lose it…” she chuckled

“I’m already imagining that…” you laughed with her as well “But there’s no need to worry anymore Mapi.”

[lieutenantbatshit]

CHAPTER 08 - once you go in, there's no turning back (hwang in ho x reader)

>> MASTERLIST

previous chapter | next chapter

----

You nearly passed out after the six-legged pentathlon game. You didn't realize as soon as you went back to the dormitory, you were fast asleep on supposedly on Hyun-ju's bed, but she didn't mind.

You felt your throat starting to sore, probably from the screaming you did earlier. You were in need of water so much. Plus, you felt your head throb a bit as you realized that you haven't had any breakfast yet.

"Oh, so that's how you got yourself those too?" You heard Guem-ja asked, but you didn't listen that much. It seemed she was talking to Hyun-just, hearing her deep, raspy voice close to... a man?

You didn't judge. In fact, it wasn't a problem at all. She still seems nice, and whatever made her decide to press O probably had something to do with her transforming. You knew how expensive those procedures were, yet you can't help but feel a sense of admiration for her as she continues to embrace herself, one where she's confident and feels true to her.

You head the door open as footsteps thudded to the ground. You slowly open your eyes, noticing a blanket tucked over you. Hyun-ju turned her attention to you and gave you a smile. Realizing you were sleeping on someone's bed, you quickly sat up and bowed. "Oh, I'm sorry for sleeping here. I felt so dizzy after the game."

"It's alright," Hyun-ju assured. "Did you have a good nap?"

You nodded, tucking away the blanket. "Very much so. I feel better now."

"That young lady made it!" You heard Geum-ja say excitedly.

"Who?" Yong-sik asked, scanning the room.

"The tiny young lady," Geum-ja replied. You quickly looked at the group of people walking, seeing Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Dae-ho, In-ho, and Player 222.

You rose from the bed and climbed down, waving your hand at Jung-bae who saw you. "Hey!"

Geum-ja and Yong-sik waved as well, seeing the relief in their faces, especially for Geum-ja. You knew how she must probably care for Player 222 so much, and you couldn't help but feel the same. You sighed in relief as you realized that they survived.

"I'll just go with them for awhile," you bowed to the group. "They're my friends. Are you guys going to be okay here?"

Geum-ja held both of your hands and caressed them with her thumb, feeling some sort of motherly care in the place. "Yes, yes. As long as you take care of yourself, alright? Please also tell me if that young lady needs anything," she pointed to Player 222 whose back was already turned, motioning for Gi-hun's group position. "I used to care for pregnant women, so please, please let me know if she's feeling anything, okay?"

You nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. "I will. Thank you, eomoni."

You gave Yong-sik, Hyun-ju, and Young-mi a bow before turning away, making your way towards Gi-hun group. They seemed to be in the middle of conversation, hearing Dae-ho explain about his father fighting in the Vietnam war. You noticed In-ho smiling, his aura light and expressive that was completely different when you first saw him, and how he dismissed you earlier.

Dae-ho stood up and looked at you, noticing you were already there. He excitedly waves his hand, motioning for you to join. Jung-bae and Gi-hun smiled at you, and Player 222 motioned a space for you to sit. You avoided your gaze from In-ho, noticing how he was looking at you intently again.

"Listen, perhaps we should learn each other's names," Dae-ho said eagerly. "I still don't know your names, gentlemen. Or yours, miss," he looked at Player 222. He took a deep breath and held out his arm. "I'll start. I'm Kang Dae-ho. Dae means 'big', Ho means 'tiger'."

"Wow, big tiger. Cool name," Jung-bae chuckled as he motioned his hand like a claw, imitating a tiger. He then turned his eyes to everyone. "My name is Park Jung-bae. Righteous and twice. My parents wanted me to be twice as righteous."

Player 222 spoke quietly. "My name is Kim Jun-hee. I don't know what it means though."

"Hmm," you placed your hand on your chin as if to think. "I think it means something related to a lucky charm."

"That's right!" Jung-bae exclaimed. "She flipped the ddakji on the first try. It was so cool!"

You chuckled and gave Jun-hee a small pat on her shoulder, her face lighting up as she smiled. Just then, you heard In-ho speak up, looking at Jun-hee. "Jun-hee, when you get out of here, go see a doctor right away. You've been under a lot of stress. You need to get yourself checked out."

Jun-hee nodded in agreement. You rubbed her back as you felt her tense a bit, probably not used to the attention that much. She gave you a small smile as she held her belly.

"I'm Oh Young-il."

Your hand stopped as you looked at In-ho, or Young-il, as he introduced himself. You raised an eyebrow in confusion, wondering why he didn't give his real name. He seemed to avoid your gaze as he spoke, his lips twitching a bit. Your instinct tells you that he was lying, but at the same time, you started to question yourself.

Was he really not the In-ho you knew? Is that why it seemed as if he dismissed you? Were you just dreaming when you saw him hear you call his name? Was it all just a dream?

"Young-il?" You asked confusingly. He looked at you abruptly then turned to his tracksuit, now avoiding your gaze. You knew he was lying.

"Young-il sounds like 'zero one', and that's my number," he chuckled, still avoiding your gaze as he looked at Jung-bae instead. "Easy to remember."

"Oh, that's true!" Dae-ho exclaimed, pointing his finger at Young-il's tracksuit. "Your name is your number."

Young-il looked at Gi-hun and proceeded to ask. "Oh, Gi-hun. What's your last name?"

"My name is Seong Gi-hun," Gi-hun replied, looking at everyone.

"Seong literally means last name," In-ho laughed, much to everyone's confusion. Each of you stared at him weirdly as his laughter continued. You eyed him as you noticed him looking at everyone, the only exception was you.

He was clearly lying, and him avoiding his eye contact with you was enough to determine that he's under a fake name. You decided to stay silent, but planned to confront him after when everyone isn't around.

You snapped away from your thoughts when the alarm buzzed, the doors opening to reveal the group of guards.

"Congratulations to all of you for making it through the second game," the square-masked guard announced. "Here are the results of the second game." He motioned his arm with a remote in his hand, pointing it to the piggy bank.

The lights dimmed, the piggy bank now acting as the light in the room. The TV displayed the growing number of the prize money as money rained inside the piggy bank, much to everyone in awe.

"In the second game, 110 players were eliminated. The prize money accumulated up to this point is 20.1 billion won. Since there are 255 players remaining, each person's share is 78,823,530 won."

"Wait, what?" Another player exclaimed, seeing his patch with the O sign. "It's still under 100 million? It's not even 80 million."

"Only 110 people died? Is that all?" Another player asked, much to your disbelief. "Did you count them right?"

Only 110 people? If this was held in the outside world, this was already considered a massacre. In just 2 days, 110 people already died by just playing children's games. This was madness. The world was a scary place indeed.

"Fuck. I almost died twice, and that's all I get?" You heard another player say near you. "I'd get more money than that if I let somebody beat me up!"

You looked at him in disbelief, trying to make sense of how these people can be okay with people dying here at the expense of money.

"I completely understand your disappointment," the square-masked guard said. "However, we always keep the door open for you to pursue new opportunities. You will now take a vote to decide whether to continue the games or not." The circle-masked guards from behind brought the voting machine consisting of the O and X buttons. You didn't realize how it looked more like a gift box, with a ribbon wrapped around the top. "Whether to continue the games for a bigger prize or to stop here is entirely your choice."

You scoffed. "We're being manipulated in this game. Trying to not take any accountability, huh." You muttered to yourself.

"Please feel free to exercise your right to choose in a democratic manner."

You shook your head in disbelief as Gi-hun looked at you, the worry on his face so evident. You knew how he wanted to save everyone and leave this place. He seemed to have a plan for everyone after leaving this game, and you wanted to trust that.

You noticed Jung-bae looking at the piggy bank more than usual, probably rethinking his decision. You looked at Gi-hun as he stared at In-ho's O patch. He seemed to notice this as he touched his patch briefly. "Don't worry. I want to stop here too. I should go and be with my wife at the hospital."

That didn't add up again. His wife was dead, as far as you can remember. Nothing was making sense at all.

"I'm telling you. We'll get out this time," Dae-ho said with determination. He touched his O patch and cursed at it. "A Marine should think strategically and know when to retreat. Isn't that right, brother?" Dae-ho grabbed Jung-bae's shoulder.

Jung-bae turned around and nodded, though he seemed to be reluctant. "Yeah, you're right. Marines aren't invincible. We should get out."

"We have to end the games here," Gi-hun said. "I will help you guys out when we get out."

You stepped forward, giving them all a smile. "I will too." You saw Gi-hun look at you confusingly as you continued, "I'm not in debt. Far from that. Jun-hee, I can go be with you at the hospital to help with your check-up."

"Unnie," Jun-hee said quietly, eyeing you. "Why are you here if you're not in debt then?"

You sighed deeply. This was it. There's no way out for you to lie on this one. Unlike In-ho, you decided to come clean. "I played ddakji with the recruiter on the subway because... well, I wanted to try and see if I was still good at playing the game," you placed your hand on the back of your head, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Guess I made the wrong choice, huh?" You chuckled sheepishly. "I left Seoul when I was a kid and moved to the States for a long time. I came back here for good because well, this is my home. It's where I belong."

"You seemed to have a good life back in America if that's the case. Why did you have to come back?" you heard In-ho ask from behind, his eyes fixed on you.

You gulped before speaking, your gaze not leaving him. "I came to look for someone." For a second, In-ho's eyes flickered. You couldn't tell if he felt regret or some sort of recognition, but he was able to mask it well.

Dae-ho leaned in with a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he dragged out a tease. "Is that someone your boyfriend, Y/N? That's so romantic!"

"He's... not my boyfriend," your eyes lingered on In-ho as you spoke. "But he's someone important in my life. I grew up with him when I stayed in Seoul. We were inseparable. But, I had to leave. I left without saying goodbye," you paused as the memory of you leaving flooded back as if you were back to that scene. "I knew we'd always be connected. No matter where we were, no matter what happened, we'd always be there for each other - always and in all ways."

In-ho's stare was unwavering, sharp, and deliberate as if daring to acknowledge the unspoken tension between you two. Your gaze clung to him as your eyes glistened with unshed emotions as if begging him to see how you missed him. You knew right then and there that it was In-ho you were looking at, not the Young-il he pretended to be. For a moment there, he looked like he might actually say something.

Then, just like that, he laughed. It was sharp and bitter. Like something was jagged to this throat, the hurt coming out as you felt it pierce your heart.

"People do that a lot, don't they?" In-ho mused, tilting his head slightly. "They all come back hoping to find something... only to realize it was never there to begin with."

"Yeah," you whispered, holding back your tears as you nodded slowly. "I guess so."

You hoped that something, or anything, that the boy you had once known would still be there. But in his eyes, you only saw a stranger. "If you're looking for something that's long gone, maybe you're wasting your time."

Your gaze locked on to his, and for a moment, everything seemed to slip out from your hands - your heart, your memories, your In-ho. It was all just gone, replaced with the avoidant and cruel Young-il.

"Young-il, you can't just shut her down like that," Gi-hun took a step forward, his brow furrowed with concern. "That's harsh."

"It's not a big deal," you spoke up, your voice trying not to crack. "He said maybe. He has a point."

Gi-hun, still caught in the confusion, glanced back at you, his face softening with empathy. "You'll find him soon, once we get out of there, hmm?"

You nodded, feeling thankful for Gi-hun's efforts. "I guess I'm the only one holding on," you murmured. "But he's right. It doesn't matter."

You turned away, the finality of it hitting you like waves. You didn't want to dwell too much on your feelings, thankful for the fact when Dae-ho held out his hand for everyone to stack theirs. "Let's huddle up."

You stacked your hands up along the others while In-ho stacked his on top of yours. You tried to ignore his touch, remembering how he dismissed you earlier.

"In one, two, three. Victory at all costs!" Dae-ho exclaimed with determination, as all of you cheered.

"This time, the vote will begin with Player 001," the square-masked guard announced. "Player 001, please cast your vote."

Everyone's eyes turned to In-ho, or so he introduced himself as Young-il. His eyes darted over you before walking towards the buttons. The room was thick with anticipation, his every step echoing in the silence as he walked. You notice his head facing upward, seeing the TV up. He was the first to vote, and you trusted that he would press X this time.

The red light shone on his face as he pressed X, a sigh of relief coming out of you as did the other players. He removed his O patch and replaced it with the X patch, walking towards the X area.

"Player 002."

You walked towards the voting machine, moving with a quiet, measured pace, your footsteps steady but purposeful. Your gaze flickered to the buttons, X or O, ready for you to decide. You didn't hesitate as you pressed the X button, the red light shining on your face as you saw the X results come for 2. You took a step back, walking towards the X area near Young-il.

The silence between you and In-ho was almost oppressive as the quietness of the room amplified the tension that clung to your skin. You both stood there, still and composed. You took a quick glance at him, only to find him already looking at you, making your heart skip.

"Player 007."

It was a brief eye contact, seeing a brief of the In-ho you knew than this In-ho he claimed to be. But the longer he looked at you, the more it hurt. In those seconds, you knew that even if he may have remembered something in the past, he wasn't going to let it through.

You abruptly looked at the TV as you saw the O results come up with 1. Your jaw dropped seeing Yong-sik vote for O, replacing his X patch with the O patch. You looked at Geum-ja, who seemed to be surprised with her son's decision as well. Knowing Geum-ja, she probably warned her son first before voting, only for Yong-sik to choose a completely different path.

You noticed more and more players voting for O, much to your horror. The more you stayed in this place, the more feelings of regret continued to stick through you.

"Player 095."

You were confident that Young-mi would press X as a sigh of relief came out from you when she did so. She walked towards next to you, giving her a reassuring smile as you held her hand for a bit, trying to calm her down.

Your eyes focused on the TV as you see more players vote, your emotions feeling as if they're on a rollercoaster as the votes alternated with X and O. Your hopes crushing as you see the O votes leading.

"Player 120."

Hyun-ju took a while to decide. When you noticed her hands flicker to the O button, you stared in horror a she pressed it, the blue light shining in her face as the O vote increased.

"Unnie," Young-mi mumbled as she looked at Hyun-ju, seeing them lock gazes for a while. You could sense Hyun-ju's hesitation as she went to the O area, her 0 patch remained in her tracksuit.

X - 33, O - 36

"Everyone!" Gi-hun shouted from behind the crowd. Though you felt a movement on your side as you saw In-ho moving towards the middle.

"Are you all out of your minds?" In-ho exclaimed in disbelief, his eyebrows furrowed together. "You still want to keep going after watching all those people die? Who's to say you won't die in the next game?" He walked towards the back, eyeing each and every player. "We have to stop. We'll all die if we keep going! Come to your senses, and leave with that money." He gritted his teeth as he spoke, his words spewing out with frustration. "You've got to survive first, or there won't be a next step."

"What do you think we can do with a mere 70 million?" Jeong-dae walked towards In-ho, raising his voice. "I don't know how much you owe, but for most people here, that doesn't even cover 10% of their debt. Am I right?" He yelled as the other players nodded in agreement. "There's no next step for us! That money won't change anything!"

"With that amount of money, I won't last long," Player 043 shouted, pointing at the piggy bank.

"It was 25 million after the first game," Jeong-dae continued. "And now, it's 78 million. After one game, the amount more than tripled! If we play one more game, the prize will be at least 240 million!"

"But I can't do this anymore," Young-mi cried out, tears forming in her eyes as her breath trembled. "Please. Please let me out of here. I really want to go home. I don't want to die."

"Young lady," another player spoke, his face pleading as he almost sobbed. "You're young, so you'd probably have another chance. But I don't. My family and I have no future. My business failed, and now I owe over 500 million. I've got to make at least half of that there if I want a real shot at a fresh start."

"What if you die?" You called out, questioning his statement as you walked towards the middle. "Then it would be the end for you and your family! Can you carry on living knowing how you get all the prize money at the expense of everyone's lives?" You raised your voice as your fingers pointed at him, seeing him look down as if he considered your words.

Just when you think you made your point, another player at the back shouted. "Don't get fucking scared! Ddakji, Red Light, Green Light, Spinning Top - it's not like the games are that difficult," he pointed at the TV. "Look, there are still 255 players. Way more than half of us survived! We've made it this far, so let's do this one more time!"

You felt your throat dry up, realizing how morally wrong that seemed, but he still made a point. You looked at In-ho, your eyes asking for support. But he only stared at you, his gaze seemingly unreadable.

You felt your heart pounding hard in your chest as your hearing started to become distorted as you heard the other players chant one more game, much to your fear. You felt suffocated as the air felt thick with... greed. You felt your migraine coming back, your pulse following the beat of each chant.

You felt a hand grab you from behind, pulling you from the crowd. You were too fazed, questioning humanity every second as the O votes increased more. Each tick of the counter felt like a hammer to the chest, each number driving the reality of the game deeper into your bones.

Your gaze drifted towards the hand that held you, realizing it was from In-ho. His fingers were cold and firm, pressing it gently as you felt your pulse harder. You could feel the ripple of human desperation in the air, your stomach twisting as nausea built on to you, realizing how greed, survival, and human nature laid bare. You stared at his hand made you more feel suffocated, as if it reminded you that you were tethered into this place, with no chance of escape.

There was no escaping it. If you wanted to get out of this place, you had to kill your way in. You were caught in a web of human greed.

"The results are 139 for O and 116 for X. Based on the majority vote, we'll proceed to the third game tomorrow."

You removed your hand from In-ho as you walked away, heading toward your bed as you lay down, staring at the ceiling, your thoughts blank. You weren't silent - you were silenced. It was no longer about the game, survival, or the people in the room. It was about the slow unraveling of human nature.

You turned over, burying your face in your pillow. You wanted to go home. You missed when you had no knowledge of this place. Why did you have to throw your life away for this cruel mess? Were you brought in here to question humanity? To reveal the true course of human nature? In this place, there was no salvation. You were surrounded by people who decided to fight, even if it meant leaving others behind.

Your heart ached as the cruelty in this place started to crawl into you, remembering more of how In-ho dismissed your feelings yet he continued to give you mixed signals, trying to weigh in if it was In-ho or Young-il you were talking to. He transformed in front of your eyes, and you couldn't help but wonder if it was because of the game, or if it was just his true nature finally breaking through.

----

You felt a light shine on your face. You noticed the players lining up for food, but you didn't feel like eating. You felt your stomach twist, though it wasn't from hunger - just mere emptiness. The food was there just waiting for you to be claimed, but you couldn't bring yourself to at least stand up.

"It's mealtime," you heard someone say, a voice you didn't want to hear, or at least expect.

You turned your back on him. "Not hungry." The flash of his words echoed through your mind, "If you're looking for something that's long gone, maybe you're wasting your time." The words had cut through you like a knife, a cruel reminder of how easily he had dismissed everything. And now, here he was, trying to coax you into eating.

"You need to eat," he firmly said. You turned to face him, seeing his eyes searching your face, with worry this time.

You scoffed. "You're wasting your time."

In-ho looked at you for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as if he couldn't understand. He let his hand fall back to his side as he quietly walked away, while you stayed still on your bed. Instead, you closed your eyes, deciding to sleep and skip mealtime instead.

Just as you were about to drift off to sleep, you felt someone nudge your shoulder again. You sighed in annoyance, sitting right up as you turned to face In-ho, only to be surprised when you saw him holding two breads and two milk cartons. He placed a piece of bread and milk on top of your bed.

"I said eat," In-ho said, his voice commanding. He turned away and sat on the staircase near the others as Gi-hun, Dae-ho, and Jun-hee ate together in silence.

You can't help but feel your stomach growl, finally confirming that you are indeed hungry. You didn't want to let pride run over you just because it was In-ho who gave you your food. You reluctantly opened your bread and took a bite of it, savoring its cloudy texture to your mouth.

"Brother Jung-bae!" Dae-ho called out to Jung-bae, who was eating a bit away from your group. When he didn't budge, Dae-ho sighed and walked over to him, dragging him back to the group as Jung-bae reluctantly looked at everyone. "It bugs me seeing you sitting there all pathetic."

You only gave a small laugh as you continued to munch on your bread. Despite the awfulness in this place, you can't help but think how this place makes the best food you've ever tasted in your life, as if it was your last meal on earth.

"I'm sorry," Jung-bae said as he looked at all of you, his hands trembling a bit. "Jun-hee, Young-il, Y/N, I'm sorry," he bowed at each of you, then turned to Gi-hun. "Gi-hun, I'm sorry. I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I'll be able to settle my debt."

"Jung-bae," In-ho interrupted, looking at him steadily. His voice was low but you could hear the amusement in his voice. "You of all people shouldn't have done it. It's not twice as righteous," he pouted, much to your surprise.

You hated how your heart skipped a beat upon seeing him pout, a rush of warm feeling spread through your chest as your cheeks flushed. You quickly looked away, trying to avoid his eye contact as you noticed him glance at you as he pouted.

In-ho sighed and continued. "But, looking at the results, even if you had voted against, we would still have been outvoted."

"Right? It's not entirely my fault," Jung-bae said quickly, his breath hitching as his face lit up. You could see the comfort in his eyes as if his vote was justified, adding more when Dae-ho agreed.

"To be honest, I understand why you did it. The money isn't enough for me either, so when I went up to vote, I did think about playing one more game," Dae-ho admitted.

"You did?" Jung-bae asked, grabbing Dae-ho's shoulder.

Dae-ho grimaced and pushed Jung-bae back. "I said I get it."

Jung-bae sat beside In-ho as he bowed, sighing as he sat down. "Thank you for understanding. But I voted in favor partly because I feel confident. We did so well as a team, didn't we?" He looked at everyone, expecting an agreement. "If we stick together one more time, I'm sure we'll be fine," he moved towards Jun-hee. "Jun-hee, I'll make sure we survive the next game--"

"The next game?" Gi-hun sighed, staring into space as if his life flashed before his eyes. "In the next game, we might have to kill each other."

Jung-bae was clearly taken aback, staring in horror as Gi-hun spoke those words.

"Gi-hun, that's a bit much," In-ho replied, his voice light trying to ease the tension. "There's nothing we can do now, so let's try to stay positive."

"That's... not impossible," you spoke, much to everyone's surprise. You opened your milk carton, ready for you to drink yet it remained in your hand. "Every life here is valued at 100 million won. There's a high chance they would let us kill each other knowing how the O team was determined to continue the games, clearly not caring if they had to kill for the prize. They even have an estimate on how much the next prize money would be."

In-ho only looked at you as he ate his bread, chewing it as he gave you a nod as if he just analyzed you. "If that's the case, then we should eat, pull ourselves together, and try our best again."

You took a sip of your milk, only to find it to be chocolate milk instead. You glanced at the other milk cartons that your group had, and everyone had plain milk. You checked the label on yours, confirming it to be actually chocolate milk. You stared at it confusingly, wondering how you got a different milk than the others. You checked the other players' milks, all of them with the same flavors.

"Here, Jun-hee," In-ho handed his plain milk carton to her, waiting for her to take it. "You can have mine. Hang in there until the next game."

Jun-hee reluctantly looks at it, clearly shy. "No, it's okay."

"Take it," In-ho insisted. "I don't drink plain milk."

You blinked, caught off guard as you realized they all had plain milk. You were confused as to how that happened. How was he able to retrieve chocolate milk from the guards?

For a moment, you were caught between the instinct of continuing to drink and enjoy every sip of it. You noticed In-ho looking at you and the milk you were drinking, his gaze unreadable and neutral. At the back of your head, you wanted to believe that he hadn't forgotten. The In-ho you knew always remembered how you preferred it than plain milk, as you liked your milk sweeter. The milk felt out place, yet comforting.

You stared at it, you swear you've seen it. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he saw you drinking your milk. It was so simple, yet the weight of it felt heavy. Did he remember?

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of it. There had been no warmth in his actions before, especially when he easily dismissed your feelings. And yet, here was this. A small, seemingly insignificant gesture. But in the context of everything else, it felt like a distant echo of something real, something from the past that couldn’t exist here, not in this place.

You needed to know what In-ho was trying to do, and why he was acting this way. You needed to find the answer as to why he chose to hide behind the facade of Young-il in this place. At this point, the one who gave you the milk, was it really In-ho, or just another game that Young-il wanted to play?

----

A/N: I hope you like how I added more of the reader and in-ho's moments together. As much as possible, I try to still include the dialogues from the actual show and add some from Y/N to not disrupt the whole story. With that, feel free to leave out your thoughts here, and I'll gladly interact with each and everyone of you. 🫶

Don't forget to leave a comment in this post to be tagged on the next chapter! ✨

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[savi0rr]

omg i love your alastor fic, can i get one where alastor's s/o is from the victorian times so she's teaching him how to properly ballroom dance

Learning Takes Time.

Alastor x Victorian Era! Reader

In which, you teach Alastor how to properly ballroom dance.

A/N: AHH!!! I LOVE THISJDBDKWJEMDKSNEJDJSNEEN TYSM FOR REQUESTING 🙏🙏 I HOPE YOU LIKE IT POOKIE!

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“Dear?” Alastor called to you softly. His smile shines towards you. “Ah—! Hello, my love.” You said, smiling happily, placing the book you were reading down onto your lap. You wore a Victorian ball gown, with pearls. Making your s/c(skin color) stand out. Titling your head to the side, “What can I help you with?” You asked, smiling. “Well, I was hoping you could perhaps teach me how to dance. A good friend of mine is hosting a party, a ball.” Alastor began, closing the door behind him as he moved closer to you.

You perk up. “Oh! Yes yes!” You cheered, clapping your gloves hands together. “I’d be happy to help you, my dearest!” You quickly, yet gently take his hand and pull him close. “It will take a few tries. But, learning of course takes time.” You said, tilting your head, your smile grew wide. “First! We need music.” You walked over to your small old-fashioned record player. You searched through many records of yours, before finding the perfect one. “Ah—!” You hummed, placing the record inside. It was a soft humming tone, and instruments playing in a soft tone.

“I can tell you’ve been waiting for me to ask, my lovely.” Alastor teased lightly, smirking. “Oh yes! Has a lady, you should never ask first.” You giggled at your small joke.

You stepped in front of him. Before slowly reaching out to Alastor’s hand. You placed his hand onto your shoulder, then his other hand on your waist. “You must keep your hands here,” You began, staring up at him. “And I’ll keep my hands here.” You placed your hand on his shoulder, then your other hand on his upper arm. “We’ll learn other dancing forms later on.” You smile. Alastor, allowed you to do what you needed to do. His eyes followed your every move, like a cat watching a mouse.

“One step like this. Move backward, follow the flow of the music.” You said, looking down at their feet, Alastor followed your instructions. He stumbled a bit, smiling sheepishly. “It's alright, you’re learning dear. You giggled. Moving your left foot in between his legs, before slowly turning. “Once the beat starts to slowly drop, start to turn slowly.” You said, glancing up at him. Alastor’s eyebrows furrow, before slowly turning, his grip on you tighten. “Better..”

“Then we do it again. Expect, we add a few more steps. Once again, follow the beat of the instruments.” You said, before moving your feet slowly. “One step, two steps.” You move your own feet backward, then forward. “I'm confused—dear. I thought I moved back?” Alastor stops, tilting his head to the side. His ears twitched. You smile. “Ah! We both move in sync. You move backward first, then we turn, then I move backward.”

“Ah.” Alastor hummed, his eye twitched. “Don't give up now-! We just got started.”

━━━━━━༺༻ ━━━━━━

“Do you understand now, love?” You asked, smiling sheepishly. You were leaning over a tired Alastor, who was sitting in a chair. His head spinning. “You’re such a drama queen. I told you, learning something takes time!” “Dear, I stepped on your feet how many times?!” “Oh Alastor…”

━━━━━━༺༻ ━━━━━━

A/N: tehehe i put the titled in the fic😉

[overwhelmed-alien]

“Overwhelmed”

Inspired by a random tiktok I saw today at work (I was working really hard, promise!). Yet another take on the recurring theme in the TG:M fandom of Jake having crap parents. Also just a shameless, self-indulgent “hurt Jake a bit so Bradley can hug the shit out of him” guilty pleasure. Because Rooster looks like his hugs could end wars and bring world peace.

TW: an ED is eluded to but not really expounded on. Vague mentions of dissociative behavior. And Jake’s crap parents, and the consequences thereof. But in the end Rooster makes up for all the bad.

You don’t grow up the way Jake Seresin did and still have the ability to react to situations normally.

His parents weren’t violent. They weren’t physical. He didn’t get beaten or neglected. This was how he justified his childhood. At least they didn’t hit me, right? It’s fine.

The frantic drive for perfection stemmed from something different. Something more subtle than a smack to the face. His mother’s offhand, biting comments about his weight. His appearance. His father’s deep sighs when he brought home an A-. When he didn’t score the winning touchdown. When he was accidentally outted. Little niggling things that, through the years, piled up like bits of rubble and built a wall around his heart, but unfortunately left his nerves frayed and exposed and vulnerable.

“You’re getting those pudgy love handles again, Jacob, maybe you should lay off the carbs. You’re so much more handsome when you’re thinner.” He’d ended up in the ER after fainting at school, the third day he’d eaten nothing.

“How do you expect to get into an Ivy League with grades this disgraceful, son?” He didn’t think a 94 was disgraceful. It was the highest score in his calculus class. He’d ended up in the ER after fainting at football practice, the third day he’d stayed up all night studying instead of sleeping.

“This room is a pigsty, Jake. You’re going to have to get rid of some of this crap.” The shelf of trophies. The little stuffed Bear his grandmama gave him. The poster of some obscure Dallas player. He’d learned that material objects held no value, even if he cherished them. A barren room couldn’t be cluttered and unsightly, and perhaps in an empty room there would be a little space for affection some day.

He’d learned that to be the best of the best meant sacrifice. It meant there was no room for hugs. No room for cheat meals. No room for fun or for love. That greatness was always just there, an unreachable, unattainable goal for everyone else, yet always expected of him. That love was very much conditional, only given when he did his part, and never received because he never could quite meet the goals placed before him.

Failures like him didn’t deserve love or kindness or compassion.

So when Bradley - sweet, endearing Bradley, who’d been raised by a mom so loving she practically glowed - began to shower him with warmth and affection that hadn’t been earned, he didn’t understand. He didn’t know what to do.

At first he balked. He dug his heels in and fought meanly. The resolute confusion he felt under that warm honey gaze made him upset and uncomfortable. It angered him.

It angered him when Bradshaw bought him the little stuffed rooster “because this place needs some kind of personal touch, Seresin, damn.” But “things” were bad. Things sitting around meant clutter, and clutter meant he didn’t deserve love.

It angered him when Bradley started bringing him doughnuts or chocolate with his coffee every morning “because you need a little sweetening up, sourpuss.” Sugar meant more time spent at the gym. Another night with no dinner, because the more weight he gained, the more value he lost.

It used to anger him when Bradley would wrap his whole body around him like a clinging, weighted blanket when he’s shaking to pieces with anxiety, when his mind is telling him he sucks, he’s unlovable, he’s a piece of shit nothing who would never amount to anything.

He used to hate that. Until…

Bradley is at war with Jake’s beautiful, self-depreciating, self-destructive brain. He hates the taunting voices that he knows sound like Mr. and Mrs. Seresin echoing constantly in that pretty head of his, telling him he’s not good enough.

Jake has always had walls. He’s always seemed spiky and snappy and unapproachable, even the moments he’s writhing in pleasure underneath him, he’s something far away, incorporeal, like a mirage in a desert.

It starts to make sense when Bradley meets Jake’s parents at a banquet. The awful, hurtful, stinging things rolled off their tongues as easily as they roll off Hangman’s. There was a difference, though. Every biting comment Hangman uttered in the air and on the ground was a push to do better. A round-about, waspish way of saying “hey, I know you’re better than this, push yourself harder and do what needs to be done”. Bradley saw his cocky aggression for what it was: a plea. Do better so you don’t die.

The words he heard Jake’s parents say clearly said something different. They said - politely, with no regard or hesitation or aggression - we know you can’t do any better, son. Because you don’t have it in you. Because you just aren’t good enough.

And when Jake -because he was Jake then, not Hangman - beautiful, larger than life Jake Seresin curled in on himself, eyes unfocused, hands trembling, arms hugging his own sides in his sharp dress whites, simply nodded in silence, Bradley saw red.

This was Jake. This was THE Hangman, one of the youngest Top Gun graduates ever, the top one percent, one of the best aviators the Navy had to offer, untouchable, heroic Jake. Jake, who’d just gotten an award, the same as him, and while Mav and Ice had gushed and beamed over him, over their entire squad, Jake’s parents simply dismissed him. That was the moment Bradley was called to a new mission, the most important one he’s ever done: to smother Jake with as much love and affection as he could muster.

A car door slammed outside, harder than usual, jolting Bradley out of his reverie.

It had been three years since that award ceremony following the Mission. Two since he presented a ring got a teary “yes” in response. One since the happiest day of his life, when Jake Seresin became Jake Bradshaw. In those three years there were dozens of therapy visits and arguments and make-ups, and an all-encompassing collection of the sweetest, most joyful moments in Bradley’s life. The highs were so high, the lows were still low, but they were manageable now. Jake still shook to pieces sometimes when Bradley lost his temper, raised his voice. But now he saw it for what it was - an argument, all couples argue occasionally. He knew now that it wasn’t Bradley hating him, or leaving him, or withholding affection because he didn’t deserve it. Bradley was trying, too. He was going to therapy, too. The arguments were few and far between these days, and these days Bradley was pleased he saw glimpses of a fierce, self-assured Hangman in them, especially when he knew he was right and Bradley was wrong (which was often enough, Bradley could admit). Their home was pleasantly lived-in and cheerful, not the sterile wasteland Jake’s house used to be. It still held warm touches from his mom and dad when they’d lived here decades ago. Little knickknacks Jake first tolerated, now cherished. The little stuffed rooster bought when they weren’t even dating yet had a permanent home on their couch in the living room, just because. They had tried, hard, and they had finally succeeded.

Bradley knew his husband was having a hard time with this new class. Hell, they all were, but Jake took it to heart. On his way out he’d caught a glimpse of Jake tearing down the hallway to Cyclone’s office, blond hair in disarray. He’d had a flustered, frustrated look about him that Bradley was seeing more and more lately. He was going to have a chat with Beau next week. This batch of kids were giving Jake hell. He gave as good as he got in front of them, he WAS Hangman after all, but behind closed doors that far-away look was beginning to come back. Bradley didn’t remember ever being that young and dumb and cocky, although when he brought that up to Mav the old man had laughed his ass off. But beyond that, he was sure jealousy was making them meaner. Hangman was more of a peer than an instructor, at least in age, and he was still simply the best. Bradley would be damned if he lets a bunch of snotty baby pilots undo all the hard work they’d done.

He had come home early - Jake stuck in meetings the rest of the evening and then running a few errands after - and had started a simple chicken and rice and veggie dinner he knew Jake would eat this late without balking too much. He still didn’t eat enough to satisfy Bradley. One of his love-languages was food, second only to touch. But they were working on that, too, and making great strides. God, he was so proud of him. Of them.

He heard a muffled thunk on the deck beyond the kitchen door. A curse. Another. “Bradley!”

He reached over and turned the stove off, moved the pot to a cool burner. “Roo! Shit, B please!” Bradley opened the door immediately and stepped out onto the deck.

One might think that affection could potentially be a finite thing. That once it hits the precipice it might just begin to dwindle, to fizzle out into nothing. Maybe into resentment or indifference. But every single time Bradley Bradshaw laid eyes on this amazing, beautiful man, he could feel love and affection bubbling forth from what was certainly a bottomless well deep inside him. One day he was going to simply burst from it, and he was okay with that.

“Oh, honey,” Bradley cooed gently. Jake was on scuffed knees on the top step, open briefcase dumped out onto the deck, the broken latch lying uselessly beside it. The uniform he’d picked up from the cleaners was on the ground in a rumpled heap. He was a shivery mess, hands almost vibrating as he tried to collect the flurry of paper scattering in the warm ocean breeze.

He looked up at Bradley with sad, defeated eyes that threatened to spill over. His voice, as strong as ever these days, warbled a bit. “I’ve had a really shitty day.”

“Come’ere sweetheart,” Bradley reached down and hauled him into his arms. Arms that wrapped fully, bodily around Jake and squeezed just the right side of too tight, the mess on the deck forgotten for a time. Bradley’s warm hand guided Jake’s pinched face to hide in the crook of his neck and then stayed tangled in his hair, hips starting a gentle sway that Jake naturally fell into. The sigh that followed came from Jake’s toes, deep and rattling. And then he melted against him. Into him. He simply held his precious boy for a while, guiding him in a sweet almost-dance on the deck in the quiet twilight of their back yard. “I’ll get this stuff, baby,” he murmured into Jake’s ear after a while, kissed it. Jake melted even further. “Why don’t you go grab a quick shower, huh? Then we’ll curl up on the couch and watch that crazy show you like so much.” He felt the beginnings of a grin against his neck, one of the cute ones that crinkled his cheeks. “I made some chicken and rice, I’ll fix us a bowl and get the tv ready. What season are we on, hmm? Forty two?”

That did get a chuckle out of Jake. He sighed again, this one more of a gentle release, and pulled away from the safe haven of his Roo’s neck, swiping at his eyes. He made no move to back out of the arms still caging him in, still holding him together after he almost fell apart. Like always. “Season twelve. Housewives of Beverly Hills isn’t that crazy. They make me feel normal.”

“You are normal, honey.” Bradley smiled down at him and dropped a quick peck to Jake’s pout, running fingers through the tousled, gorgeous blond hair. “You’re the most normal housewife on the block, I guarantee it.”

A strangled guffaw burst out of Jake’s mouth and he began to laugh in earnest. Bradley followed, dropping a few more quick kisses to his husband’s face, making sure his mustache tickled.

Jake no longer had that haunted, spaced out look in his eyes. No longer quivered with anxiety and frustration. “Just for that I’m stealing your hoodie again.”

“Baby, I’d be worried if you didn’t. Now scoot,” he said with a quick swat to Jake’s backside. Jake grinned and swatted him back, but did as he was told, easing the sliding door back to go inside.

“Hey, J?” He called after him, and waited until Jake turned back to him. “I love you, sweetheart.”

Jake’s smile reached his eyes. “I love you, too, B.”

…Until. Until a honey warm, raspy voice finally overwhelmed and drowned out the cold, biting ones in his head with so much love he thought he might burst from it. Until he finally started believing he deserved it.

[glamourscat]

A LUCKY DAY (MAYBE) | MIDORIMA X READER

I am so sorry for the wait @tsxkishimx I lost your ask😭 I hope you like this!! | enemies to lovers vibes w Midorima

"Takao, your form is atrocious. At this rate, you'll never improve."

There it was again. That condescending tone that made your blood boil. You watched from the sidelines as Midorima pushed up his glasses, looking down at his teammate with that ever-present air of superiority.

Takao, being Takao, just laughed it off. "So mean, Shin-chan!" But you could see the slight drop in his shoulders, the way his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Oi, Midorima!" The words left your mouth before you could stop them. "Would it kill you to give actual constructive criticism instead of just being a jerk?"

The gym fell silent. Even the squeaking of basketball shoes against the polished floor stopped. Midorima turned to you, green eyes narrowing behind his glasses.

"I fail to see how this concerns you," he said stiffly. "This is between me and my teammate."

"It concerns me when I am the manager of this team and you're being an ass to someone who bends over backwards to help you." You crossed your arms, ignoring the warning look Takao was giving you. "Just because Oha Asa said Cancers were ranked first today doesn't mean you get to treat people like they're beneath you."

A muscle twitched in Midorima's jaw. "You know nothing about basketball or our dynamic."

"I know enough to see when someone's being needlessly harsh." You stepped closer, refusing to be intimidated by his height. "Takao's one of the best players on this team and you treat him like he's disposable."

"Guys, really, it's fine—" Takao started, but Midorima cut him off.

"If you're so concerned about proper coaching methods, perhaps you'd like to demonstrate?" He held out a basketball, his taped fingers gripping it firmly. "Show us how it's done."

You grabbed the ball, ignoring the way your heart raced at the brief contact with his hands. "Fine. But first, you're going to apologize to Takao."

His eyes widened slightly. "I have nothing to apologize for."

"Then I guess we'll be here all day."

The standoff lasted for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes. Finally, Midorima adjusted his glasses, a nervous habit of his, and turned to Takao.

"I... may have been overly harsh in my criticism," he muttered.

Takao's jaw dropped. You weren't sure who was more surprised, him or the rest of the team watching this unfold.

"Shin-chan, are you feeling okay?" Takao pressed a hand to Midorima's forehead, earning himself an irritated swat.

"Don't push it, Takao."

You couldn't help but smile. Under all that pride and lucky items and horoscope obsession, maybe there was hope for him after all.

"Now," Midorima turned back to you, "about that demonstration..."

Your smile dropped. Right. You'd walked right into that one.

"I never said I could play basketball," you admitted. "I just... I understand it enough to be a manager, but I can’t play."

Something shifted in his expression, so subtle you almost missed it. "Then perhaps we could reach a compromise. I will... attempt to be more constructive in my criticism, if you agree to learn the basics of basketball. So you can better understand what you're critiquing."

Was that... was that a hint of a smile on his face?

"Are you offering to teach me?" you asked suspiciously.

"Merely ensuring you don't spread misinformation about proper training techniques." But there was definitely something softer in his voice now.

From the sidelines, Takao was grinning like he'd just won the lottery. "Shin-chan's going to be a teacher! Should I start calling you Sensei?"

"Takao!"

You couldn't help but laugh at Midorima's flustered expression. Maybe this wasn't exactly how you'd planned to spend your afternoons, but something told you these basketball lessons would be interesting.

"Fine," you agreed. "But no lucky items required."

"Absolutely not. Cancer's compatibility with your sign is already questionable enough without tempting fate."

"Of course you know my zodiac sign."

"Someone has to ensure this arrangement doesn't end in disaster."

And your heart skipped a beat at the way he adjusted his glasses again, well... that was probably just because Cancer and your sign were apparently compatible today.

Probably.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[tagamantra]

turning d&d 4e into a brutal xianxia game

i've always looked at D&D 4e as particularly amenable to the wuxia genre. in fact, it works as a spirit cultivation game. a problem with a lot of 4e (for me at least) is its disconnect of mechanics from the fiction. it is a game-first, player-first game, and that's a great genre in itself. but this post is looking at 4e through potential diegetic lens, with each game mechanic justified through spirit cultivation xianxia genre

as follows:

XP as Cultivation: exp serves great as cultivation. leveling up serves as cultivation progress. the three tiers work as "Man -> Earth -> Heaven" kinds of Cultivation Realm.

Powers as Techniques: each power works as a martial art technique that can be learned and mastered. this works better using the Alternative Rewards system found in the DMG, and getting powers from the world instead of getting it immediately on level up.

emphasize alternative rewards: instead of purely making level-ups the main way to get powers, have the powers be found in the world as alternative rewards. have them be of differing levels. if they find a level 14 fighter power from learning it from a bull God, they need to be a Level 14 PC with a Fighter Feat to be able to "equip" it.

Classes as Martial Arts schools: Fighters as the Fighter Sect, Wizards as the Eight School Magics Sect, etc. Subclasses or the Build Options work as School Specializations. this is the one that is least wuxia-esque to me, because wuxia is an inherently classless idea. you should be able to learn a strand of martial arts from one master and then learn a completely new and different one from another master that chooses to pick you up on.

every pc from a different school: to bridge this genre gap, when you make a PC, write the class they choose as a martial school. even if two PCs are two Sorcerers, they must come from different but perhaps similar schools. maybe one is from the Tantric Deity Sect and the other is from the Nine-Elements Yang Sect

Healing Surges as Qi: Qi is the breath or the life force. Similar ideas in other cultures are prana, ginhawa, ki, and kebatinan. You can only heal yourself as much as your inner reserves can heal you. If your Qi is tapped out, even healing potions will have a muted effect

Hit Points as Hit Protection: this one is stealing from NSR ideas. replace hit points with the idea of Hit Protection. Fighting in Wuxia/Xianxia etc. is a flurrious exchange of blows. when attacking a character, as long as they're not bloodied, they're actively fighting back, defending according to the targeted defense (blocking, parrying, ducking, weaving with AC, dodging and leaping with Reflex, resisting with Will, etc.) Hit Protection still includes personal vigor, which justifies attacks that poison or set them on fire as those attacks probably hit home to transmit those effects

xianxia lethality: xianxia and wuxia are surprisingly more brutal than one would think. it's bloody and arms are broken, legs are cut off. we move into homebrew-y territory here.

half HP, double damage: lean into this. power comes not from numbers but from techniques and traits for PCs. half HP and double damage not just for monsters, but for PCs as well. this will make fights less meat sack slogs and into tense, explosive engages.

move attack hit rate from 60% to 90%: this is something fft did well. most attacks have a 100% starting hit rate. enemy evasion values shifts that around. my idea is to raise attack hit rate to much higher. this makes defense-raising options much stronger as well and every attack becomes an important additional strike

make bloodied more potent: bloodied inflicts an injury. make this fiction oriented: a good enough attack might scar your face, or might render your arm useless and make you suffer disadvantage. this might not feel fun, but it will force creativity and the players must respect the world

improvisation: in wuxia and xianxia you actually will see more instances of the heroes using their environment to affect the outcome of the battle. throwing tables to distract, using roofs to provide cover, etc. here we move again into homebrew territory:

improvisation as default. this one is a large shift in the game. get rid of action economy. get rid of action types. you can move and do one thing. this is anything. most commonly it will be an attack. this includes even minor actions. there are no set actions you can do, no list to choose from. use your imagination. lean into the p 42 of the DMG. turn THAT into the core mechanic of the game

use essentials rules: this one is the least controversial but 4e essentials rules are the best consolidation of the rules. especially the item rarity stuff.

dare to be unbalanced: 4e's neo-golden cow is balance. don't care about the balancing. xianxia thrives on the unbalancedness of things to create tension and friction. the need to have revenge on a martial master that killed your master before, but they are a Level 28 Fighter and you're a measly Level 3 Wizard. You have to cultivate to get up to his level. You need 10,000 more years of training to get to him! now there's a reason for adventuring (collecting training manuals, finding masters, finding cultivation cores to gain XP). adopt an OSR mindset. become world-first: make the PCs rise to the challenge instead of tailoring everything to them. if they move into an area with level 8 monsters, they can choose to take those on, or just go back and go somewhere else, return at a later time when they have better equipment and better weaponry.

[canmom]

a polemic

every so often you see a conversation on this website that goes like this:

based story game enjoyer: D&D is a limiting game because of xyz design assumptions. cringe D&D fan: actually I changed these assumptions by editing the game to fit my group's needs. it works pretty good. story game chad, closing in for the kill: have you considered playing the perfectly designed game for your scenario that surely exists out there in the indie game milieu? you wouldn't have to homebrew. you'd be having better fun. foolish and wrong D&D incel: but I am already having fun with "modified D&D" and I don't particularly see a need to do that thing you said. wise story game sage, a single tear rolling down their perfectly sculpted face: do you not see that defending D&D, the product printed by Hasbro Inc., by pointing out that you can modify it, is self-defeating? tragic. there is no hope for these people. 42069 notes

along such lines, i saw someone today refer to homebrew in TTRPGs pejoratively as 'unpaid game design' and like. my fucking god guys. i don't love D&D-as-printed either but you've lost the plot.

not only is it good to modify the games you play and make them your own, it is inevitable. nobody ever plays TTRPGs exactly 'by the book', it's always filtered through the dynamic of the group. yes, even in those games that literally tell you exactly what to say like the quiet year or whatever.

you will ignore rules and guidelines. you will put your own interpretation on the wording of this or that rule. you will develop your own rhythms and at some point, yes, you can, will, and should change the rules to better fit whatever you're doing with the game.

the designer may throw up their hands and say "you are no longer playing Sorcerer By Ron Edwards, you are playing some other game! you're messing up my perfectly tuned mechanism!"

let them. it's an understandable frustration, perhaps, but once the game is in the hands of the players, the designer has had their say.

play the game you want to play, even - especially - if you have to invent it. use whatever tools you find useful to help you get there - whether that's a printed RPG book, a blog post, a memory of another game, a story that inspires you. maybe you want to take some existing and familiar system, such as PbtA, and adapt it - awesome (I reckon 95% of indie game designers pretty much do this). maybe you want to start from scratch and make a bespoke system for that one story - also awesome.

'this book requires a lot of work to adapt into something decent' is a fair criticism. 'nobody even plays this game by the book, so it's a bad game' is dogmatism. what game do they play? how do they learn to play it? what function is the book providing in that game? if you want to criticise a game, you need to talk about actual practice. there can be plenty to criticise there, for sure. but that's where you gotta start.

and sure, if someone wants to design a game, particularly to print, I would definitely recommend they look beyond D&D for inspiration. there are some really fucking cool and creative indie games that come up with wild ways to approach 'making up a story through a game' that I'd never have imagined. very often it's fun to follow a designer's frame and discover something new.

but don't make a fucking religion of it lmao.

[kim-jongin-s]

svt fic rec (mostly nc-17; minwon, jeongcheol, verkwan, wonchan + other)

MINWON

"your boots on the gas of life". au. oneshot, 1.6k. nc-17.

mingyu: i can't have babies wonwoo: my sperm different

"happy to help". oneshot, 2k. nc-17.

Mingyu should go to sleep. He really should.

But today was so good. Why not make it better?

"good for you". omegaverse: omega!ww, alpha!mg. oneshot, 5k. nc-17.

Wonwoo likes routine, it makes life much easier when he knows exactly when his heat is due to arrive. This time it comes without warning.

"keeping score". au: streamer!ww, volleyball player!mg. oneshot, 5k. pg-13.

Kim Mingyu dates Jeon Wonwoo in secret for five years. He should, perhaps, be used to seeing his boyfriend get hit on in front of him. But he is not, in fact, okay with it.

So he copes. Kind of.

"all i need". omegaverse: omega!ww, alpha!mg. oneshot, 7k. nc-17.

Wonwoo starts showing pre-heat symptoms as Mingyu prepares to head to New York for Fashion Week.

"good little fox". twoshot, 8k. nc-17.

It doesn’t matter how friendly and sweet Wonwoo is with others, this is something only Mingyu can have.

"honeysuckle". omegaverse: alpha!ww, omega!mg. oneshot, 9k. nc-17.

Mingyu spends heat with Wonwoo for the first time.

"high tide". au: journalist!ww, model!mg. 3 chapters, 14k. nc-17.

“Wonwoo-yah,” Soonyoung hisses against Wonwoo’s ear, “I think pretty boy wants to eat you.”

"all roads, they lead me here". office!au. 9 chapters, 61.5k. nc-17.

Mingyu was willing to try to make a long-distance relationship work, but Wonwoo wasn’t.

Four years later, Mingyu is back for good.

JEONGCHEOL

"the kind of heartbreak time could never mend". oneshot, 2k. pg-13.

“No, no, I’m good, really. I’m good when I have all of you, you know that.”

He omits the crucial part; I’m okay when I have you.

"flatline". oneshot, 4k. nc-17.

Nothing feels better than being good for Jeonghan.

"meet me at the (haunted lesbian) apateu". au. oneshot, 8k. pg-13.

Jeonghan is content to live his life never telling Seungcheol how he feels. The ghosts in his apartment feel differently.

"rose tinted (dirt colored)". office!au. oneshot, 9k. pg-13.

Seungcheol has a secret admirer.

Well, either that or a stalker.

"i know a place". au, rule 63. oneshot, 12k. nc-17. ♡

“You’re thirty two and you’re going to experiment with girls now, is that it? Jeonghan-ah,” Seungcheol says, voice low and strung tight with something hot and dangerous. “If you want it so bad, I’ll give it to you.”

"not like i planned (looks like i'm going where i've already been)". oneshot, 14.5k. nc-17.

It’s interesting, as some kind of social experiment: being Choi Seungcheol’s boyfriend for a day.

"overhanging place". au. oneshot, 15k. nc-17.

A year after leaving Seungcheol to pick up the pieces of what they could have been, Jeonghan comes home.

VERKWAN

"left in bits". oneshot, 2k. nc-17.

Seungkwan likes to show off and Hansol likes to watch so it's perfect, basically.

"buzzcut season". au. oneshot, 6k. nc-17.

Seungkwan’s ex-boyfriend shaved his head.

"friday i'm in love". au: band member!vn. oneshot, 20.5k. nc-17. ♡

Seungkwan doesn't date musicians, but he certainly fucks them.

WONCHAN

"electronic network love". omegaverse. oneshot, 10k. nc-17.

Wonwoo meets Chan on a hookup dating site. Chan’s the ideal omega, and any alpha with a brain would find themselves wanting him. There’s just one problem.

"chlorine". au. oneshot, 19k. nc-17.

Wonwoo helps his brother's fiancé run away from his own wedding.

OTHER

"what a crash, what a rush!". jigyu. neighbor!au. oneshot, 14k. nc-17.

Kim Mingyu is stuck in a loveless marriage. Enter: Lee Jihoon.

"when fall came". seokcheol. fake dating!au. 6 chapters, 23k. nc-17.

Choi Seungcheol, boyfriend for hire. Available for services such as getting your jet-setting and exceptionally nosy roommate off your back and taking you on picture-perfect dates.

As Lee Seokmin learns, falling in love costs extra.

"(might go to) war with heaven". s.coups/wonwoo/dino. au: crime boss!sc, policeman!ww, barista!dn. 9 chapters, 60k. r.

Chan's life changes after unknowingly stumbling into a crime scene, landing himself as the sole witness to a murder investigation. He finds himself pulled between a seemingly cold police detective and a warm stranger, his heart going in two directions at once. As Chan struggles to make sense of his feelings he realizes that he's become a pawn in a game he didn't know he was playing.

[dramioneasks]

HP FESTS: Dramione Month (Part 6)

Dramione Month 2024:

Eclipse by galaxy_skies - M, one-shot - Three days later, when he feels a little less cursed and a lot less hungover, Draco scours the Malfoy library for books on memory charms and owls her a list of titles via Potter’s address at Grimmauld Place as repentance. Two days after that, Hermione sends him a book on curses and a London address that he assumes is hers as forgiveness.

The Mentor by arborlibrary - M, one-shot - Several months after the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy is assigned to be a mentor to Hermione Granger as she prepares for a fight to the death against her friends. He goes to visit her in the dungeons to get a headstart, but learns that none of the contestants have any idea what he's talking about.

Pale, Rich, Jealous, Extremely Attractive by arborlibrary - G, one-shot - “Granger, this book is objectively bad.” He glanced up at her from where his copy was propped on his desk before him; it was the first time she hadn’t scolded him for being off-task at work. “I know! That’s what makes it so good!” “Bella’s sartorial sense alone is enough to have her Avada’d. Seriously, what’s with all the beige?” // Or, Draco is intrigued by the book Hermione has started reading at work, and he can't help but share his opinions as he goes along.

Broom Bunny by arborlibrary - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger has a type: Quidditch players. Her latest crush is the least likely yet.

Amends by galaxy_skies - T, one-shot - “You look nice when you smile,” she says, because her parents raised her to be bold and an ugly old hat put her in a house meant for the brave and because she was never afraid to speak her mind when the truth was right in front of her, shining like the light reflecting in Draco’s eyes.

His Home by Lexxus - M, one-shot - Draco and Hermione fell in love one ordinary Thursday ten years after the end of the war. Their story had a rainy beginning, a sunny middle, and a snowy end. [WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH]

in every universe (but one) by thisisdd (thisisnotdd) - E - Collection of drabbles and one shots that served as entries for Dramione Month 2024 -- originally posted on my twitter @thisisntdd.

The Various Employment of Questionable Tactics by augustaoctavia - E, 5 chapters - What started off as a simple missive between a professor and a student's mother soon spiraled into something so much more--something so unexpected. Loner Potions Master and Professor at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy, discovers his precocious student has pilfered ingredients from his private stores. After a failed attempt to communicate about her misdeed without descending into childish bickering, Draco and Hermione Granger agree to discuss the matter that evening at the Hog's Head. Whiskey will be required to get through this conversation, he can already tell.

jamais vu by euphrasie_pont - E, one-shot - jamais vu (noun) – the opposite of déjà vu; the experience of being unfamiliar with someone or something you know should be familiar; the illusion that the familiar is being encountered for the first time. - When Hermione reconnects with Draco Malfoy and starts spending time with him again, he’s so different he might as well be an entirely new person. Of course, that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea for her to go and fall in love with him. But during the crisp metamorphosis of autumn, when the leaves are changing and maybe he is too, Hermione can’t help but do it anyway.

Hermione Memoria by MarinaJune - M, 10 chapters - Hermione leads a happy life, one full of friends, books, and all the unique coffee mugs she can find. There are moments, however, where she's struck by a sharp sensation of remembering...something. Or, perhaps, someone.

Dare you do it? by Hyemi_28 - E, one-shot - Hermione plays a Truth or dare game with the girls, and she has to sneak into the Slytherin locker room and has to bring a proof, that she was there... but suddenly the Slytherin team arrives back...

Busy Nights and Moving Flights by terryboot - E, one-shot - The vanishing steps at Hogwarts usually bring misfortune to those who encounter them, but today is Professor Malfoy's lucky day. – or a ‘stuck in something' kink PWP

Perfect Day by CarolineSedgefield - T, one-shot - A drabble written for Dramione Month's careers week, in which Draco and Hermione's vocations may not be what they initially seem.

Falmouth Falcons - Player No. 4 by Sessediz - T, one-shot - Hermione loses a bet to Ginny, meaning she has to both attend her Holyhead Harpies match that weekend, but also pay full attention without the distraction of a book. Her apt attention to the game sparks an interest, and not just her own.

Careers Free Day by Peaches_on_Waffles - G, one-shot - Hermione seeks out medical attention to help with a rash.

Disarmed by You by anna_hawk - G, one-shot - In the aftermath of a heated duel, Auror partners Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, are forced to confront the unspoken feelings they've been hiding.

Brewing for Attention by anna_hawk - G, 11 chapters - After years of playful rivalry and tension, Draco Malfoy finally devises a ridiculous yet charming plan to get Hermione Granger’s attention—by staging a series of potion mishaps that land him in St. Mungo’s repeatedly. Hermione, now a busy and brilliant healer, finds herself reluctantly amused by Draco’s antics. What begins as exasperation turns into something deeper as she realizes Draco's efforts were all to spend more time with her.

Heal me now by Hyemi_28 - M, one-shot - After years of working as a successful healer at St. Mungo, Draco Malfoy saved Auror Granger's life one night... After he was been appointed to her personal healer, his life turned upside down, when they started their secret relationship at the examination room...

Paper Dolls by Sessediz - M, one-shot - Boy meets girl, girl meets boy . . . it's a tale as old as time, but time isn't what's being studied by these Unspeakables.

adventures in cursebreaking by greenappletheory - M, one-shot - Hermione Granger seeks out the assistance of Cursebreaker and ex-husband, Draco Malfoy, after entangling herself with an unknown and most definitely cursed object. This takes place eight months after Hermione’s 45th Birthday, so consider this a part two and my formal apology.

All It Takes (Is One Kiss) by Lexxus - E, one-shot - On New Year's Eve, Pansy's "one-kiss-theory" leads Draco and Hermione to a dark corner of a Muggle club, where one quickly becomes much, much more.

All That Glitters by AsIfYouCouldOutReadMe - E, one-shot - Hermione Granger is days away from passing the most important legislation of her storied career with the Ministry, but today is her Anniversary and Draco has just the thing to distract her. OR Draco dresses up as Edward Cullen to cheer up his busy bride

Cursed and Charmed by anna_hawk - G, 7 chapters - When a dangerous cursed artifact surfaces at a high-stakes auction, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy find themselves reluctantly working together to destroy it. What begins as a mission of duty quickly evolves into something unexpected as they navigate old rivalries, buried secrets, and a tension that neither can ignore.

Healers/Doctors by Peaches_on_Waffles - G, one-shot - A Healer from St. Mungo's is summoned to Azkaban. [WARNING: Character Death]

Full moon by Hyemi_28 - M, one-shot - Draco thought Hermione died so he wanted to follow her to the death, but suddenly a small body slammed into his embrace.

[weevmo]

Hello! So i’ve recently become a little fan of yours from your small, silly tadc comics and im just wondering how you come up with them and generally just how you make them (like how you set up scenes and what not lol). I’m pretty new to procreate and digital art as a whole and wanted some little tips since i’ve sort of hit a wall with trying to make comics digitally.

thanks for reading my dumb little thing ✌️

Hey hey!!

I'm so glad you've enjoyed the comics - Oh boy so -

How I come up with them: Most of the time I have a central idea I want to explore like 'What If Caine had the Players go through a Grueling Medieval Adventure with a Promise of a REWARD, but the Reward is literally the thing they want least (Princess Caine smooches, anyone?') or 'What if Ragatha was the one to do something Really Bad (descriptive, right?) because It's hard to imagine she, out of everyone there, ever would' .

Most start out super loosely, not super planned out, and with a rough bit of dialogue written down (Not for the Princess Caine one...and you can tell, the dialogue is repetitive and meh, I came up with on the spot lmfao)

As for setting up scenes: Most of the time I very roughly plot out each page/panel/ 'scene', trying to figure out the angle that will give me the emotion I'd like to portray most.

Something as simple as this, I meant to evoke a sort of 'tired, long journey come to a close' sort of vibe with a flat distance shot without detail and sleepy coloration. Almost cozy idk

I purposefully left out Ragatha's facial expressions here and foreword to give a bit of unease in her decision, and angled shots down at Jax to give the impression that he's not in charge here. For once he needs her help. (there's no way he couldn't have climbed that himself tho asdjhdlsdh)

I aLSO only put detail into panels where I wanted to evoke the most feeling. Some panels took literally 5 mins, others a lot longer. Pick your battles!

Not great examples? But both of these I made pretty quickly without too much plotting - just a 'strong' central idea I wanted to explore. I hope that gets the idea across!

Honestly I almost didn't post the Ragatha and Jax one - didn't like how it came out! But I did anyways and most seem to enjoy it, even if it's highly non-canon and a little iffy. (I also didn't plan each 'scene' out, just doodled only enough pictures to get the idea across, it could have benefitted from more but...eh.)

I'd say just GO FOR IT when it comes to comics! Try to get a strong idea or emotion across, it doesn't have to be a super detailed or long comic. Don't worry about how people take it, people have different opinions. The important thing is you learn with every page you post! Look at lots o' references, or just explode colors and shapes over the page (A healthy mix of both, perhaps); sounds lame but most importantly make sure YOU are having fun with this!

I hope this was helpful ! - I should dig up the playback of making the Jax and Rag comic.

[lyndeeznuts]

Thoughts on future playable characters in Fear and Hunger Termina

Tanaka

His gameplay needs to be built around relying on others. Like his arc as an NPC, he needs to get stronger through learning about comradarie and friendship. He’d be a weak early game but very strong late game character.

As the player character, I see him as being able to take advantage of his latent soul to learn skills without the hexen from other characters.

As a party member, perhaps he plays more of a supportive role or has some kind of “copy stance” where he replicates another party member’s attack

He needs to be especially killable at the beginning of the game lol

For B ending players, his character creation would have a path that allows you to determine how much he adopts a ruthless outlook to the business world. I see that leading to a skill like Backstab which perhaps could allow for the pre-moonscorched killing of party members outside of safe hubs.

Please bring back the rugged handsome looks skill. It would be so funny if Tanaka was the only one with a seduce option (not even Pav should get it)

Samarie

As a counterpoint to Tanaka, I think Samarie players should be incentivized to NOT work with others

Like I imagine her difficulty interacting directly with others would cause some party members to occasionally not do what you say or something

Also, she just gets a buff by having fewer party members.

She’ll likely get necromancy or blood golem to compensate for this to get some controllable meat shields bc the contestants can be risky

I could imagine her having some sort of analyze type skill because she’s used to closely observing Marina

Starts out with mind read ofc

Pav

It’s intriguing that he has an ability related to commanding party members

His gameplay should rely on more of that. Maybe he could give a party member a free command each battle, like shield other party members.

Most of his skills should probably just be taken from other skill lines (gun proficiency, intimidate, etc)

Henryk

We need more LORE

Why does he seem familiar with Caligura? Why can he fight okay? (Melee proficiency)

My guess is that he’s a former street urchin/mob guy aiming for the high life

I could see him having steal which I imagine he would have used in the service industry

A skill that makes it possible to craft healing (and not just buffs) with food

Also a character building path where you learn toxicology/poison bc of what he does in the speakeasy in day 3….

August

I feel like he works better as a supportive NPC.

He should stay that way but have more ways to interact with him.

At most, he should be a (possibly temporary) party member.

He’s a skilled hunter. He should have Analyze

Caligura

Similar to above

He should stay a NPC but we should be able to interact with him more

[whitmore]

fitmc madagio lore full transcript under the cut bc it’s so so interesting and also for community archival purposes

FIT: I saw you 200 blocks away. You aren’t sneaky.

FIT: If you’re new, I have nothing for you.

FIT: Here, it’s every person for themselves

FIT: Now, fuck off.

FIT: Still there?

FIT: I guess you want to learn the hard way.

FIT: ??!????

FIT: … who are you?

FIT: … what is your name?

FIT: … where exactly did you come from?

MADAGIO: Do not be afraid.

MADAGIO: Allow me to congratulate you.

MADAGIO: An ordinary human would’ve been driven to madness in a place like this.

MADAGIO: A toxic wasteland, one of the worst I’ve seen.

MADAGIO: I can see it in your eyes.

MADAGIO: Your aggression serves to hide the pain of the unimaginable horrors you have witnessed, and judging by your looks, perhaps perpetuated?

MADAGIO: I’ve been seeking someone with your level of mental fortitude…..

MADAGIO: The ability to resist both madness and toxicity.

MADAGIO: I detected the remnants of a very powerful signal in this world, so I came to investigate.

MADAGIO: I guess it would be a good place to look for people like you and I was right.

FIT: Sounds like bullshit to me.

MADAGIO: Apologies. Allow me to introduce myself.

MADAGIO: I am known as Madagio. are used to live on an island. It was one of many… All connected together by the same system. The island that was my home well….. let’s just say… things happened. Ever since I’ve gained the ability to travel across worlds, in search of skilled survivalists and deceivers, people who can hide in plain sight in extreme conditions. Judging by your age, you’ve survived here for a very long time. Perhaps you are interested in a change of scenery. If you are, meet me at the location in that book. We can discuss more there.

[BOOK READS: Meet me in the ruins of the obsidian outpost to the south. / Look underneath the red beacon. / I’ll be waiting…..]

—

FIT: That sounded like an end portal! What’s going on??!?!?

—

MADAGIO: You’ve arrived quickly, excellent. I see you noticed my friends on the way here. They are my eyes and ears; an extension of me. Now listen carefully. I would like to offer you a job Fit. One of the islands in the system I spoke of earlier is named Quesadilla. It’s a beautiful place, but it hides many secrets. Secrets that I must have at all costs. They will soon be accepting visitors for the first time in many years. right now the only way onto the island is by train. Most of the tickets have already been given out. However….. I can arrange for you to receive one. To keep your cover, you will need to act like you are on a vacation. Once you arrive on the island, I want you to start collecting information. Player data, island statistics, the emotions of your neighbors… …and analytical data on how it all connects together.

FIT: Player data? Statistics? Why do you want that stuff?

MADAGIO: In time it will make sense. As you collect it, I want you to report your findings to me. It may be difficult given the island’s current isolation, but you’ll find a way. A wasteland nomad like you traveling to Quesadilla will be very unexpected. Which is why I want you to blend in. Become friends with your neighbors. You might even know some of them already, so it should be easy. But do not form attachments, it will only complicate things. You are there for a very specific purpose. While you are on Quesadilla… I will be elsewhere, making preparations for something very important. You will have exactly one year to accomplish this task. if you are successful, your payment will ensure you have an early retirement. If you are unable to complete it in that time, I may have to help you… But let me make something very clear. Should you disregard the mission entirely… Or attempt to cheat me… I will ensure you spend the rest of your life in this toxic and vile waste land. Doomed to wander, and die in obscurity… And anyone who made connections with on Quesadilla will suffer. This is not a game to me. These, as I have stated, are the terms of this contract. If you step through the portal, it means you accept. But there is no turning back. Shall we begin?

FIT: 10 years is a long time to be stuck in the same wasteland. You know what I need? A vacation.

—

FIT: Finally, I can remember your name.

FIT: I care about the people on this island. I’ll complete the job, but you better not be using their data to do harm.

[qwertyprophecy]

Composing music for game design and narrative purposes in The Dark Queen of Mortholme

With my lamentably limited knowledge of music, composing the Mortholme OST took than the size of the game perhaps warranted. I'm happy though, since I managed to explore in the main narrative ideas I'd wanted and hopefully made the most of the format's weird limitations.

The gameplay of Mortholme is formed of you as the Queen repeatedly defeating the Hero, and them coming back to try and squeeze a few additional seconds out of every attempt. That means a few things for the main battle theme:

Interruptability required

In the early game, the music will likely only play for a couple seconds at a time. Initially I'd wanted a rather moody and atmospheric theme (y'know, back to the FromSoft roots), but quickly discovered that interrupting a slow paced track just made it sound confused. Interrupting something dramatic, on the other hand--especially a bombastic build-up--sounds funny, which is exactly what smacking some uppity heroic figure into their sudden death with a giant mace should be, for the first time.

2. Further into the track = further into the narrative

The cool thing about the format is that the better the Hero does at the fight, the longer the music has time to play. As the relationship between the Queen and the Hero develops through the deaths and the dialogue, the player will likely get to hear later parts of the song.

It's like a chance at adaptive music without having to learn how to do it! By assigning the characters their own instruments and leitmotifs, the track can develop from "the Queen's domination" to "the Hero persisting amidst it" and finally into "the Queen must acknowledge the Hero" as the Queen's brass section begins to respond to the Hero's leitmotif (while ending on a darker chord).

3. Short is sweet

With the start-and-stop, there really aren't that many seconds the full track can run. I'm not even sure if most player will realistically hear the third passage, if the game ends up being balanced to go faster. But that freed up all my leftover enthusiasm for composing to be used on variants beyond the battle theme.

There's the ominous slow variant for dialogue; a hollow, barely even melodic version for when the Hero is not in the room (the music follows the "player", after all, and a video game boss has no life beyond their visits); a Hero leitmotif heavy dialogue variant; and as the last one being currently finalised, a high tempo battle variant for phase two with synths and rock drums and basically anything I can throw in to make it sound so FINAL BOSS TIME!!! that it makes me laugh. I don't know anything about whatever this genre is either but that's fine, I put an amp on an organ and it sounds outrageous.